CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX.

"I think I figured out why you're so terrible at magic!"

We were on the move again, the two of us practicing from the forward observation deck while watching the swamp pass around us. I gave Shani a flat look as she exuberantly waved several of the glass slides from her aetheric spectroscope. A look she happily ignored.

"I was right— naturally— in saying that you are very dense, aetherically. There's probably a substantial size difference between your transformed states?"

At my cautious nod, Shani plunged forward.

"Well, that's part of the problem right there. You're currently in a compressed state, and that's affecting your ability to create new spells for yourself. Twice as hard for half the result kind of thing. Also, and I can't believe I didn't think of this earlier, your body is wrong!"

There was the briefest flash of deja vu as her words echoed the Nomad Murgui's all the way down in the heart-ward, and I couldn't help shaking my head self-deprecatingly.

Seems to be a common thread with me. Right person, wrong body.

Shani interrupted my brooding with a wink and a mischievous smirk.

"Not that there's anything wrong with your body! This one is very nice."

I felt my cheeks heat up and experienced a sudden desire to bury my head in my hands.

Ok, she's definitely feeling better.

She grinned at my growing embarrassment and giggled, making her teasing almost worth the trouble just to have her back to normal.

"Guess I'll take the compliment," I muttered with an exasperated sigh. "How is my body wrong?"

"You're welcome. And it actually has to do with how you cast spells. Basically, the way you use your magic is strange. You move like an Archmage; like you expect magic to flow instantly by your will and get surprised when it doesn't work that way. It would be hilariously arrogant— and for a while, I thought you were just trying to impress me— except I can tell that this style of casting is habit-formed. Which meant at one point it did work for you. I couldn’t figure it out until you told me your story and I realized that you’re trying to mentally transition from bestial instinctive casting to traditional spellcraft."

I berated myself mentally for underestimating how perceptive Shani could be. Honestly, I thought I'd done a pretty good job at the time of covering for the gaps in my skill, but the brunette had seen right through me from the start.

A perfect reminder that you're never as clever as you think you are.

"So how do I fix it?" I asked.

"Simple! First, you need to transform." She leaned forward, an excited gleam in her eyes.

I looked around us incredulously.

"What, here??"

"Where else? Come on, I wanna see!"

"No. Transforming would ruin my clothes and I just got them back… And I'm not stripping naked in front of the whole caravan."

"Hmm? Oh, I'm sure they won't mind, it's for science after all." She said, widening her eyes with an entirely too-innocent look.

"You do realize that— transformed— I look like the nightmare love-child of a predatory squid and a particularly angry lobster, right? Not exactly sexy." I retorted flatly.

"Really??" Her face lit up with interest.

"Ugh." I facepalmed in exasperation at Shani's enthusiasm.

"Great One—"

"Aaaaahh!"

Both of us yelped in surprise as Nezzick suddenly announced his presence.

"How the hell did you get up here!?" I exclaimed once I got my heart working again.

"I walked, Great One. Perhaps you were merely distracted by your woman." He eyed Shani with critical approval. "A beautiful and powerful fire-witch. She would make a fine first consort."

I want to die now.

"First consort?" A sharp note entered Shani's voice that sent tingles of alarm down my spine.

"Indeed, there are many among the People who would be proud to entertain the Great One's interest—"

"Ohmygod dude shut up!!" I hissed.

Shani looked at me archly, and I felt myself withering in place.

Ok correction, now I want to die.

Standing with a huff, Shani stalked off into the ship.

"Maybe you'll have more time for 'your woman' after dinner, 'Great One'. Unless you'd rather be spending time with someone else…" She called over her shoulder as she left.

Ah shit.

Holding my head in my hands, I took a deep breath.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Is there a reason you came up here other than ruining my day?"

"Indeed. You must change our course, Great One. Our current path takes us around the edge of Champion's Folly, and the beasts are sure to be stirring in the darkness below. I fear even these mighty vessels will not last long against the horde that slew our gods."

"Wait wait, back up. Champion's Folly? Is that like another chasm down to the Hollows?"

"Yes, Great One." The shaman nodded deferentially. "It is the ruins of a city built long ago by one of the gods' champions after his duty was complete. He desired easy access to the tunnels below for his expeditions, but when he eventually vanished in the deep— as all delvers do— the city soon followed. It is but one tale of many like it in the great swamp— a powerful fool leading many to their ultimate doom."

Guess that checks out.

Sighing heavily, I pushed myself up to my feet.

“Alright, well hopefully I can convince Teadran to take an alternate route or something.”

----------------------------------------

“Absolutely not.” The captain growled out harshly.

“But the villagers—” I began.

“But nothing.” He cut me off. “I am not altering the path of my caravan based on the superstitious ravings of a half-mad village shaman. We are already more than a week behind schedule, and I have made this trip hundreds of times. This caravan is armed beyond what most of the tribes can even comprehend. The Folly can be dangerous, but there is nothing this high up that we cannot handle— no matter what the damn shaman says.”

“Ok, I understand what you’re saying, but wouldn’t it be better to play it safe?” I asked, trying my best to be reasonable.

Teadran shook his head angrily.

“A ‘safe’ detour around would add an additional two weeks of travel time at minimum— the swamp is too deep here. I don’t suppose you have the funds squirreled away somewhere to reimburse us all for this delay, outworlder?”

His words were a blatant reminder that I was here with basically nothing, and he knew it.

“No sir,” I said helplessly.

“Then we will continue along the planned route as I have ordered. What happened to the villagers was terrible, but I have no reason to believe what drove them away will repeat itself here. And if it does? Then we will face the threat and destroy it utterly. You are dismissed.”

That went about as well as I expected…

Leaving the captain’s cabin, I didn’t honestly have an objection to his stance that we could handle whatever could be thrown at us— especially if Shani and the other dozen-odd core tenders throughout the caravan got involved. If anything, I agreed with Teadran on this. I was just in a weird place with the villagers right now and felt an odd sense of responsibility for them, even if I wasn’t sure exactly what to do. Their objections might not be heeded, but I could at least make sure they were heard.

The next few days passed without incident. The caravan endured the constant barrage of monstrous creatures, with Shani and I occasionally helping out from the observation decks. She eventually stopped teasing me over my ‘harem of village girls’, though not without making sure I was very aware that she would not, in fact, be ok with a position as my ‘first consort’. If I was interested, it would either be an exclusive thing or it would be no thing.

Fine by me!

The conversation marked a change in our relationship as via some nebulous background shift we were now an official ‘item’— I say it like that partially because I’m not sure the term ‘girlfriend/boyfriend’ exists in this lexicon, and because saying courtship is weird as hell. In the background, I was increasingly concerned about how the relationship would work with her job on board the Duchess and me leaving sometime in the next week, but I solved this like I do many of my problems:

I ignored it and hoped it would go away.

Despite his professed indifference to Nezzick's warnings, Teadran grew increasingly tense as we drew closer to Champion's Folly. The crew was on edge as well, with word of the shaman's predictions making their way through the caravan. A hushed silence gripped the ships as we pushed through the ever-present mists, wary eyes peering outward with a heightened vigil as restless hands tightened around weapons kept close at all times.

The tension kept me from sleeping, and I found myself drawn to the observation decks in a fruitless attempt to pierce the endless fog. My instincts itched at the back of my consciousness, hinting at danger but refusing to give me anything concrete. My hands tightened around the railing with a white-knuckled grip and I couldn't help growling in frustration.

"You alright, kid?" Leigh asked, coming up behind me on the deck.

I grunted in vague dissatisfaction.

"Can't sleep."

The priest snorted and leaned on the rail beside me.

"You and everyone else. The tension is so thick you could make a decent soup from the air. Almost felt sorry for the last few monsters to attack, that last Urrken scout took damn near a full broadside to the face all by its lonesome."

An involuntary chuckle dragged itself past my lips before quiet retook the deck.

"Still…" Leigh muttered. "Been pretty quiet the last few hours."

"Dude, you can't say stuff like that. You're basically inviting things to attack now!" I grumbled at him.

He shrugged helplessly and pushed himself off the rail, patting my shoulder as he walked back towards the hatch.

"Alright, since I've invited an attack I'll be getting back behind the armor. Try to get some sleep. We'll be hitting the…" he trailed off abruptly, eyes darting to the swirling mists. "Eyes up, Ray. Something's here."

Jerking my head back around, my gaze frantically swept the murky vista but found nothing. Glancing back to Leigh, I felt my perception suddenly speed up like never before as the priest's movements slowed to a crawl. Instincts screaming, a dense ring of hex shields flashed into place around my neck just in time to deflect a scythe-like blade of black chitin from decapitating me.

With a grunt of effort, I twisted in place, ducking down and summoning more shields to pin my attacker. For a moment we struggled like that, with me barely dodging a blistering assault of chitinous claws that came out of nowhere before I finally managed to lock them down. There was something interfering with my vision, keeping them invisible inside my shields until a golden pulse from Leigh washed over them and dispelled it. And then I froze as my heart seemed to stop in my chest.

A cross between a xenomorph, a praying mantis, and a black panther. Six limbs; four catlike, with an extra pair of scythe-tipped arms dripping with venom. A double set of vicious jaws and mandibles on an elongated, fox-like face. It was a figure I saw in my nightmares every day as I relived the moment I was dragged away by a powerful current into the heart-ward. The day Dezzahn took him from me.

"Skritter?"

The figure howled and shrieked, tearing at my imprisoning shields until a spiderweb of cracks began to show.

"Buddy, it's… it's me. Don't you remember?"

"Ray? Ray, you need to kill it!" Leigh shouted in the background but I barely heard.

"Come on, you gotta recognize me. You know me, right?"

The cracks in my wards spread as the creature's struggles intensified, and I couldn't help staring in confusion.

"Skritter?"

"Ray there's more of them! Help!"

Leigh's frantic shouts finally got through to me and I suddenly saw that the creature I had captured was just one of dozens that were scaling the side of the ship. My eyes spun wildly between the creatures, all nearly identical to the one I held. Nearly.

Imperfections made themselves evident for the brief moment my thoughts were clear— legs too short or deformed, armor twisted and unhealthy, all attacking with mindless savagery and none of my former minion's grace. The obvious deformities marked these creatures out as copies— inferior copies.

You're not him.

Black rage clouded the edges of my vision, and my hands shook as I clenched them into fists.

"You'Re noT HiM."

My voice twisted in my throat, barely escaping my lips as my whole body writhed from beneath my skin. I knew there was only one being on Haven that could be responsible for this… defilement.

"I'll KIlL yOu ALL."