Toren Daen

Hofal and I bounded over the rooftops, making a beeline for the warehouse owned by Blood Jasper. I jumped through the air, a pulse of telekinesis launching me a good thirty feet. The air whipped at my cloak, and it would’ve made a fluttering sound if I wasn’t constantly suppressing any noise around me with my magic.

I hit the next rooftop running. Hofal jumped from where we had just been, using the extra strength his runes provided him to leap across the gap. Noticing he wasn’t going to neatly clear the street below, I used two telekinetic pulls on his body, adding extra momentum to his leap.

At the same time, I pulled on the opposite edge of the rooftop, using a single pull instead of two. I ground my feet into the wood roof beneath me, making sure I wouldn’t be lifted into the air by my own magic.

Hofal landed the jump with barely a stumble. With a nod, he ran toward the edge of the roof, making to leap again. I added a couple of pushes of telekinesis to his back, stabilizing myself so I wouldn’t be thrown backward.

He soared over a wide street, then kept running. I jumped after him, continuing our roof-bound trek toward the warehouse.

Hofal couldn’t jump as far as I could, so whenever we reached a particularly wide gap I had to assist.

It was a foggy night. The clouds hung low in the sky, blanketing the streets and obscuring the senses of all. For anybody else, it would be foolish to be running about right now. There could be thieves and scoundrels about, ready to jump you from the mists.

But I was that thief and scoundrel, so I embraced the cover the fog provided.

The blithe warehouse we were going to was owned by Blood Jasper. It was just along the border wall of East and North Fiachra, making it far out of the way of the other two stockpiling locations further south. One of those was being tackled by Karsien and Naereni together. The other was assigned to Wade. Once those went up in flames, they’d all join Hofal and me for a final assault on the distillery.

After a bit of maneuvering, the buildings began to be more sparse. We were entering the wealthier–relatively, of course–parts of East Fiachra. Our objective was easy to spot: the symbol of Blood Jasper was, unsurprisingly, an illustration of the mineral from which they got their name. With the logo plastered prominently on the large three-story warehouse, it was easy to tell that this was our target.

Hofal settled onto the rooftop next to me. It had been explained to me that Hofal and I would work together for the same reason Naereni and Karsien would: a more experienced mage working alongside a rookie helped balance out chances for failure.

I stared at the windows of the warehouse. I knew the inner mappings of it well because of Wade’s reconnaissance, and just like my last attack on a warehouse, I knew the best entry and exit points.

Hofal noticed my hesitation. The man wasn’t smoking tonight, something I found a bit odd. His older face was hidden behind a familiar mask. “Feeling nervous?” he asked.

“A little,” I admitted. I had talked with Lady Dawn a bit before finally setting out tonight. It had been a day since the plan was first explained to me, allowing me to get my thoughts in order. She had agreed with this course of action, believing it to be my best shot at Blood Joan.

“It’s just… this is it. I’ve waited for months to actually hit the Joans, and tonight is that night.”

I would be avenging my brother soon. I felt a wave of guilt as I remembered that I hadn’t even visited his grave since I left the Healer’s Guild in a huff all that time ago. Would I be able to when we were done? Would I deserve to?

Hofal nodded. “If you weren’t nervous, there’d be something wrong with you. Too many youths have rushed headlong into danger thinking themselves invincible. Like a man thinking his knuckles are tougher than stone, then being surprised when they break after punching a brick.”

I turned to look at the man slightly. Hofal acted as a sort of grandfather to the entirety of the Rats, always offering emotional support and advice when it was needed. I learned recently that he had been one of Karsien’s regular ascension partners, and had followed him to Fiachra when he decided to start this merry band.

I flexed my hand. It still hurt slightly, but the pain was proof that my blood was as red as it was in my previous life. I wasn’t invincible.

“Just gotta do it,” I muttered standing up.

A few guards were circling the perimeter of the warehouse, something that I didn’t have to worry about in my last heist. I could sense a bit of mana from them, too.

It seemed word had gotten out that the Rats had hit Blood Ilason.

I dropped to the ground, silent as a shadow. Hofal fell next to me, the collision of his boots on the cobbles muffled by my magic. We were still out of sight of the mages nearby, but probably not out of sensing range. When I was sure that the patrol had passed, Hofal and I darted to the edge of the building.

We only had a few seconds of blind spot to act. Hofal began to focus on one of his runes, then touched the brick wall.

It folded inward, the earth inside bending to Hofal’s will. It smoothed over the nearby bricks, bolstering a small ring around the opening with an extra layer of rock. The parts that smoothed over gained small patterns and shapes lined deep into the stone, showing marks of where Hofal had touched.

I grinned, then darted into the dimly lit warehouse. Hofal followed a second later. There was a slight draft in the opening, but we wouldn’t have time to try and close the gap.

Apparently, Hofal’s shield crest focused solely on making earthen walls. But the source of that earth could be anything, and he utilized that to his advantage to peel an opening apart and reform it as ‘walls’ on the side.

Stacks of boxes piled up ten feet in the air, covering the ground. A few of them had the stylized ember of Blood Joan on them, the illicit product inside proudly declaring their source.

The mana signatures I sensed were more closely packed toward the offices on the opposite end, no doubt wary about another attempt to steal the precious money and information inside as we had a few days ago. But now the modus operandi of the Rats was about to change.

Hofal withdrew a few flasks from his dimension ring. Inside each of the glass bottles was a certain trapped gas, one that the sewers had in plenty.

Methane.

Prior to the operation, Naereni and Karsien had worked together to concentrate some of the released methane gas from the sewers into these tiny bottles. It was difficult work and their actions only yielded a few bottles with high enough quality, but we didn’t need much.

On top of the bottles was a small mana artifact that was the core of this operation, sealing them shut and keeping the deadly gas contained.

Hofal handed me a few of the bottles. I nodded to him in acceptance, then dashed to one of the first stacks. I set down the bottle in a corner of the boxes, right next to the ember of Blood Joan. I pressed a button on the artifact, starting a countdown timer of five minutes.

I moved stealthily from tower to tower, setting down bottles in opportune places and starting the timers. A few times I sensed a mage wandering near, which caused me to withdraw deeper into the shadows. The men around here were clearly on edge, from the hunch of their shoulders and the darting looks in their eyes.

I’d show them why that fear was warranted.

In a couple of minutes, I’d planted all the bottles in place. I covertly darted to the edge of the building at the agreed-upon meeting place.

This wouldn’t have been possible without Wade’s thorough scouting of the building interior, allowing me to plot a route near perfectly through the stacks of boxes.

Hofal arrived a minute later. I was starting to get antsy, the nerves from the countdown hurrying my steps. But I didn’t need to worry: Hofal arrived soon enough, none the worse for wear.

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He began to focus on the rune that allowed him to mold earth. Pressing his hand against the bricks, I watched as the bricks folded away, morphing them as he did before. The earth flowed as if liquid, and when reformed had a dozen different symbols and designs on it.

But not fast enough. A mage rounded the corner, then froze at the sight of us. His eyes widened in alarm. He opened his mouth to yell, raising his staff between us.

I dashed toward him, creating an echo of sound as I moved. He didn’t have any time to react as my fist buried itself in his stomach, knocking all the air out of his lungs in a wheeze.

I dropped him a second later, but that brief bit of time was enough noise to alert everyone else.

It didn’t matter. We’d already set the flasks, and from my internal counting, there was barely more than a minute left on them.

Hofal had moved outside the wall. I could hear the bustle of men moving as I dragged the unconscious mage to the opening, hopefully getting him clear of the warehouse interior.

Outside, I could hear the sounds of a faint scuffle. When I poked my head out into the night air, Hofal had already knocked a few mages unconscious. But between that and the noises from inside, our cover was effectively blown.

“We’ve gotta go,” I said, stating the obvious. “Only a couple of seconds until those things go off!”

Hofal nodded, running back into the streets. I bounded after him, using telekinesis to help me catch up to him. A few guards noticed our frantic escape, calling after us and preparing for pursuit. I could feel their mana flaring, preparing some spells to throw.

Before they could even try, the first of the methane flasks went off.

Hofal was good with artifacts and machines. He was the one who had set up rudimentary plumbing to the Cistern, leeching off the city’s water lines. But what he made here was far more flashy than a water pump.

Inside each of the mana timers was the head of a cigar lighter. When the timer reached its end, a small contraption struck two bits of steel together, causing a single spark.

And that was all it took. I couldn’t see it, but I knew a couple of the flasks had exploded. The bursts weren’t large: they weren’t designed for that, after all. Instead, they threw fire to all the crates nearby.

And blithe was very, very flammable.

The chain reaction was audible as the crates exploded behind us. Booms sounded out loud, acting as thunderous applause to our victory. A few nearby windowpanes rattled from the noise, making me grin.

I leapt into the air, aiming for the rooftops. I pulled Hofal after, working in tandem to get him on the roof with me.

I could already smell the smoke. I turned around, looking at the warehouse which was already a block or so away. Thick black smoke billowed out its windows, tinged with a strange scent I couldn’t recognize.

Probably the blithe burning.

Using the devices as we did instead of actual spells was intentional: spells could be sensed and detected by mages, while mana artifacts were more difficult to pinpoint, especially ones so very small. Planting those devices gave the least chance of discovery.

I watched from afar as the smoke poured out of windows, part of me hoping the mages inside managed to find a way to escape the hellfire. Most of the people I could sense inside were huddled near the main offices, expecting to have to fight off thieves reaching for their wealth. Instead, we sent their ‘product’ up in flames.

But another part of me didn’t care. These men willingly guarded this death drug, seemingly content to help their employers further poison the denizens of East Fiachra. I should let them burn in the aftermath.

My own thoughts on the vigilante justice I was performing were manyfold. The me from Earth would be utterly appalled at what I had been doing. Going after drug makers? Stealing from people?

But that was my previous world. On Earth, there was a due process that, while not perfect, did protect those at the bottom. If a millionaire beat me up on the street, I could expect outrage from the public and a settlement in court.

Here? Here, you turned the other cheek. You were weak, so you suffered and only had yourself to blame. It was ingrained, even into Toren himself.

The smoke stretching into the sky warned me that the window to attack the distillery would begin to close now. I didn’t know how good of an information network Blood Joan possessed, but all three warehouses being struck in succession was a blaring siren telling them that everything blithe-related was going down.

I trusted Naereni, Karsien, and Wade to finish their assignments just fine. What I was worried about was the assault on the distillery.

In both my and Lady Dawn’s opinions, there were many flaws to this plan. I questioned some things about it: Why not wait to destroy the distillery after the warehouses, and prepare more thoroughly? Couldn’t we try and get more information about the distillery before attacking it?

Karsien had pointed out that the Joans were likely to pull their distillery underground if the warehouses were destroyed. And besides, the point of the operation was to be big and loud. There were always going to be pitfalls in attacks like this. Not every variable could be accounted for.

Hofal patted me on the shoulder reassuringly. Pulling myself back to the present, I turned northwards toward the tall dividing stone that separated the rich from the poor. It was a living monument to the truth of this canal city, no matter its beauty.

Instead of trying to leap over the wall like I did the first time, Hofal and I dropped into the sewers once again. The sewer systems between East and North Fiachra ran on different lines because the wealthy refused to let their shit mix with that of the poor. But there were places where they ran close enough that Hofal’s rune could peel the gap apart.

I trudged through the wet muck of the North Fiachra sewer, each step taking me closer to my goal. I thought over the plan one more time, trying to iron it into my memory.

Karsien, Naereni, and Wade were further from North Fiachra than we were. The Rat and his protege were busy destroying their own warehouse, while Wade sent rats carrying bottles of methane into his assigned warehouse to deposit the mini explosives remotely.

Wade had done some initial reconnaissance of the distillery building, but his range and control with his crest didn’t extend far enough to allow him to spy as well as he wanted. He had to be within a certain radius of his rats for them to maintain their ‘orders,’ and apparently, the area around the distillery was being watched heavily enough that it made it difficult for him to approach.

That was where Karsien came in. His mist spell would allow us to approach a lot easier, masking our positions from the enemy. It would also be indistinguishable from the fog that was already obscuring so much of our natural vision. Wade would be able to get close, allowing him to get more accurate details of the structure and its layout from his tiny little minions.

Hofal and I reached a ladder, which allowed us access to the world above. We climbed out slowly, then the shield used his signature artifact to freeze off the remnants of sewage on my boots.

North Fiachra felt wealthy, even under the starlight. The canals were narrower, fitting the more personal nature of the Blooded district. The average house rose three stories tall instead of the normal two, and lighting artifacts lined the streets, keeping everything in perpetual illumination.

Unlike the warehouses, the distillery wasn’t above ground. It was nestled underneath a nondescript cabin that bordered a canal. Wade didn’t know much about the interior, but he did relate to us that the side of the canal slid away, revealing an access port for small boats carrying men and shipments deeper within.

I vaulted onto a nearby roof, then helped Hofal up. This was the agreed-upon meeting place for our group, as the area directly around the distillery was tightly monitored.

But as I settled in to wait, something began to gnaw at me. The streets around were too quiet; too deserted. Where everywhere else I heard the chirping of crickets and the buzz of lighting artifacts, now there was only a strange silence.

It was like the world had exhaled its last breath here.

Hofal shifted where he stood, his eyes darting around nervously. Whatever it was, he sensed it too.

I covertly scanned my surroundings, cautious and on edge. Was there something I missed?

It took a minute for me to finally put the pieces together.

There’s nobody patrolling around, I realized with confusion. Even the warehouses had mages constantly circling about, but I can’t sense any mana signatures.

I frowned, feeling a mix of confusion and dread. Wade had said that this place was patrolled heavily enough that he couldn’t approach close enough, so why…

I turned to look in the direction I knew the distillery was. Something was wrong here.

I ran over all that I knew in my head. The current situation didn’t match what Wade had spoken of, which meant either something had changed, or the young librarian was wrong, which I didn’t believe. But what had changed?

I needed to know. I was the most mobile of the Rats, so I had the best chance of noticing the difference and getting out quickly.

“Hofal,” I said, trusting my instincts. They’d gotten me through the Clarwood Forest; they’d get me through here. “I’m going to scout ahead for a little bit. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Hofal started. “Wait a few minutes for Karsien to get here,” the older ex-ascender said. “I agree that there’s something… off right now, but rushing headlong in will only limit your options.”

That caused me to pause. Hofal was right: if I waited a little bit, then I’d have backup in the form of Karsien and Naereni. But the part of me that was telling me something was off was also screaming that whatever was here, I didn’t want them to be a part of it.

A shiver ran down my spine as I thought over the problem in front of me. If there was danger up ahead, it was better that I alone encountered it. I was more powerful than I let these people think.

I shook my head. “No, that’s not a good idea. I’ll just go a few blocks over and check to see if anybody is actually watching the distillery. Wade said that the security around here was tight, but I can’t sense a living soul.”

Hofal stilled. “I still say you should wait for backup. I’ve known too many warriors who died because they’ve had a gut feeling.”

I licked my lips, peering through the illuminated streets. “Then you’d better hope I’m not one of them.”