Elia gaped at the sight of two ninjas in the flesh. Their style was traditional, their bodies swaddled in dark cloth to hide them in the shadows, their steps light due to the sandal-sock combo. She went back and forth on whether to tell them that their ninjato swords were technically ahistorical, but decided in the end that the hidden weapons mattered more. Who knew, maybe the taller one had a hidden blade strapped to his wrist, or maybe the smaller one was palming a pair of tiger claws tipped with venom.
She crouched next to the taller figure and poked them, just to make sure they were real.
“Oh my gods, you’re real!” she said. “I would love to be a ninja! Or kunoichi, I guess. Actually, would I have to do the… you know… I’ve read some spicy literature and I’m not too sure I could pull the seduction aspect kunoichi are known for off so… yeah, maybe just murdering people?”
They didn’t move from where they were. These ninjas were professionals. It only made Elia want to poke them some more.
“If you could stop prodding my underlings, that would be nice.” Zane sighed as Elia did, instead trying to tickle them. The larger one visibly twitched, barely withholding laughter. Zach looked slightly incredulous at being ignored. “Hello? I invited you to our secret lair, don’t you have anything to say?”
“Yeah, yeah, you have a thieves’ guild, it’s a legitimate taxable business that doubles as charity work if you steal from the rich. Wait, are you paying taxes?”
“No?”
Elia inhaled sharply. “Well, here’s to hoping you’re sneaky enough to evade the IRS.”
“That’s not… why…” They stared at each other for a while, Elia smirking, Zane with one eye twitching. “We originally came here to have you truth-tested, to make sure you’re not a spy. Number One, number Two, where is my father?”
The lanky one, Number One, answered first. “Young master, your father is out on a secret mission.”
“Alright,” Zane said, looking mildly relieved. “Fetch Number Three for me, and we’ll have this interrogation over quick enough.”
The smaller one, Number two, raised her head. “Three is with elder brother Zach. They are looking into the suspicious disappearances of Lady Nightingale and John Kale as well as a number of dreg servants. Zonja is helping prepare the party.”
By the look on Zane’s face, that meant he did not have access to a truthsayer. A pity, considering how much that would have smoothed everything along. Then again, Elia was under no impression that it would have been enough to just answer truthfully. People had a habit of thinking she was lying the more they got to know her.
Elia clapped her hands. “So, since there will be no interrogation today, how about you just tell me about what’s what and who’s who in the pact?”
Zane looked down at her from atop the stairway. There was a glint in his eyes as he recognized who exactly was in command. “I… I think not. You’re still not cleared of suspicion.”
“I followed you all this way willingly.” He didn’t seem moved. Elia groaned. “Zane. I whooped your ass in a fair duel. You owe me an explanation.”
His face grew red as his two ninja underlings looked between each other. That was possibly the wrong thing to say. He rose, puffing up like an angry rooster.
“Then I’ll tell it to you plainly: You saunter into the pact, a mishmash of people among them our princess in tow, and we’re just supposed to not suspect foul play? I don’t trust you, I can’t afford it. The pact is my home, and it is not big. Someone like the Rhuna can afford to lose a spy or four, but if we fail even once, then we have to leave everything behind and run. It’s game over.”
“Then tell me what you know so I can prevent that!” Elia yelled perhaps a little bit too loud. “I’m on your side. I’m here to help. All you have to do is meet me halfway.”
Zane just shook his head. “I can’t afford it. I really can’t. Until we have our answers, you won’t leave our estate either.”
He was serious. Elia couldn’t believe it. It was a mistake going this route. “Excuse you, I’ll go wherever the fuck I want.”
He chuckled, but his high voice didn’t lend him the mustache-twirling villain factor he was going for. “Maybe, but you were stupid enough to follow us all the way here. You’re in our guild, our home territory, and nobody can find you here. Now, are you going to let yourself be confined, or will we have to get physical?”
“Definitely physical.” Elia cracked her neck in what would hopefully become her signature intimidating move.
With a snap of his fingers, Elia was surrounded by the two ninjas and the rumormongers, hidden weapons gleaming beneath all their clothes. “It’s five on one, what can one girl hope to do?”
More misogyny. Great. In all honesty, while Elia had hoped he would do something irredeemable, she could settle for beating him up for less. Not much less, but this qualified.
“I’m gonna beat the nineties straight out of you, bash you through the two-thousands, then pop you like the housing market bubble of ‘08.”
----------------------------------------
The fight was chaotic.
“Get her!”
“The flanks! Go around the flanks!”
“Mud-mud no jutsu!”
“FUCK, someone do something about that godsdamned SPOON!”
But for all her fighting and close quarters expertise, Elia did note that she was missing one thing: range.
----------------------------------------
If there was a blow Elia’s confidence didn’t need, it was the memory of how she was jumped by five little shits and failed to even take down one of them. She would have blamed it on external factors if she could, but the verdict was simple. She had underestimated them, and more importantly, they had not underestimated her.
They each had boons, greater souls, and – gods forbid – teamwork. Number Two was built completely for speed, Number One could turn the ground and walls into a sticky swamp in three different ways, Cat had some boon that could falsify visual information while Crow stuck her with little feathers that sapped her strength. As if that was not enough, Zane took every opening to flutter around all fancy-like before kicking her from anywhere but the back.
Maybe this was how Partlight or Hall had felt.
Elia was shoved roughly into a cell, because of course a thieves guild had their own jails. Irony was lost on these fools. She shot Zane a nasty grin as he nursed a shattered jaw. That should have taken him out, but he had used some half dozen elixirs, potions, or other consumables beforehand.
Yeah, it was a lot more fun fighting against dregs than being treated like a raid boss herself. Though she did get a few good licks in.
“What, not gonna gloat about beating up a girl? Where’s the torture rack mister cop, I thought you wanted an interrogation?”
He took a swig from a plastic bottle, which realigned his face enough that he could finally frown. He offered her the bottle as well. Elia didn’t take it.
“We’re not savages,” he said, as if she should be thankful for it. “You’ll like these a lot more than Rhuna’s prisons.”
“I couldn’t say,” Elia grunted. “This definitely sucks more than earth-prisons. I want my lawyer.”
He snorted, and walked away.
“Your [Threat music] track is weak!” Elia yelled after him “It tells me all about your many insecurities!”
His steps grew quieter until they went completely silent in the distance. Elia immediately went about undoing her constraints. The little ninja was great with ropes, which Rye would certainly know how to appreciate. Elia on the other hand appreciated that she had the presence of mind to act like her gauntlet was just normal and not summoned. She de-summoned it, the rope falling slack around her wrists.
Maybe she was giving these people too much credit. They knew how to fight, but not the first thing about operational security. She did not expect anything more from Zane’s leadership.
Now all she needed to do was get out of the cell, then get the heck out of dodge. Time was awasting.
She attacked the lock with all her lock-picking might. Unlike the cheap locks everyone else seemed to use, these ones had pins and rollers galore. Her gauntleted fingertips were thin and long, but they weren’t ideal lock-picking tools. What was more, with every press she accidentally added a drop of poison to the lock’s insides, making them extra slippery.
An hour passed. Two hours passed. Food came by the third, which was nice, if not the same quality as she’d consumed during the party. She ate it with an equally rabid appetite. By the seventh hour, she was just about ready to give it up when with a click, the lock fell open.
“Yesss!” Elia quietly hissed, fist-pumping the air. “I’m so awesooome!”
She peeked out of her cell and slowly set one foot in front of the other. The entire house was so quiet you could have heard a fly buzzing from across the room.
“Elia!” A whisper nearly had her heart jumping out of her chest. “Down the left, I’m in the last cell!”
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Elia hurried along until she was face to face with a familiar pink bard. “Cesare?”
“In the flesh and gaol.”
Elia looked to the next cell. “Mouggen?”
“It’s pronounced ‘jail,’” Mouggen groaned from a cell nearby.
“Why is that, when it says right here: G-A-O-L?”
“That’s an older language. You’re reading it phonetically, instead of shutting up and helping Elia get us out of here.”
Cesare huffed and turned away as if insulted.
“No need for help, I got this,” Elia said, getting down to work right away. She knew how these locks worked now, they were difficult but all one and the same. “So, this is the place they were holding you guys?”
“Yeah, the little shit is currently running this place in the absence of a heap of more qualified people.” Saying that Cesare sounded unhappy was an understatement. “We answered a bunch of asinine questions in front of a truthsayer and were promised that we could go afterwards, but the only people we’ve seen since are him and his mooks. A real shame too, there’s apparently some sort of party outside and we’re not invited.”
Elia paused, but only for a brief moment. The party had started, which was roughly around the time she had woken up at Kasimir’s place last time. One day left. But Mouggen and Cesare should have been outside already. Zane must have been spying on her ever since their first encounter, but leading him back was likely what had delayed her companions’ release.
Either way, Zane was not at all a reliable ally. Crow and Cat were only if under the implied threat of Karla. And Karla was unreachable until the last day, which was too late to do anything significant.
“Let me guess, little Zane wanted to keep you for ‘further questioning’? I’m starting to guess he’s on a power trip now that his parents aren’t home. Youngest-child-syndrome and all that.” Elia practically spat the words out. “Why didn’t I hear anything from you? Our cells were basically in yelling distance.”
“Someone was making an awful racket with her lock,” Mouggen grumped.
Cesare nodded. “Can’t rightly make you quieter and open communications. Didn’t want to distract you either. I did get some juicy gossip before though. Apparently, the pact is expecting an attack.”
“Expecting?” Then why hadn’t they done more the past loop around? Why had they just let Rhuna cause so much chaos?
Cesare eyed her for a long moment, evidently enthralled by how she’d let the pins slip again. Or maybe he could just read the frustration emanating off her. “I don’t think you realize how small the pact really is. Their main form of survival stems from having a few heavy hitters, the fear their reputation garners, plus the fact that they are just too small of a nuisance for the knights, the legion, or Rhuna to divert larger forces to. It’s a three-way stalemate between those, which has left the pact in a comfortable position to craft alliances with other smaller collectives, like the witches.”
Mouggen nodded. “From what I’ve heard their council is content with making no big moves and letting the waves roll on by. In their eyes mustering troops would give one of the big three a reason to attack them. A choice few people – Camille, Randy the spymaster – think otherwise, but they’re butting up against the resistance of the comfortable ignoramus.”
“They should be screaming,” Elia said. “They should be running around with their pants on fire. Rhuna is coming and she is coming tomorrow.”
“What, is this your famed oracle ability?” Mouggen snorted. “You sure as hell didn’t say that we were going to find a shardbearer, nor a greater in the tower. But foresight be damned, we slew the beast, and so I am inclined to forgive. Did you see it, how it fell when I smote it with my own two hands–”
Cesare held up a hand and Mouggen quieted. “Also, Elia, I need to talk with Rye. Urgently.”
It was always ‘Rye’ with him. ‘Rye’ this, ‘Rye’ that. “Rye is currently unavailable. But if you want, you can leave a message after the tone. Beep.”
He didn’t leave a message. Elia let him stew, she thought she had the lock. Success was within hands’ reach. Then, her hand jerked an inch, and all the pins reset. She fumed quietly as she started from square one again. She noticed perhaps a bit late that there were only two of her three companions in the cells.
“Where’s Nali?” she asked.
“Gone.” Mouggen coughed. “She’s always had a knack for not being in places, or being in places she ought not to. I have no idea how she does it.”
“A boon maybe?” Elia hedged. “Which brings me to a bit of an important discussion: Loot. I know you’ve all been stuck in here for a while, but I’ve got all our loot with me. Greater souls, shards, etc. How are we going to divide it up?”
“We talked about it.” Cesare said, cutting in before Mouggen. “If you want to roll some boons, go for it.”
“... what he said,” Mouggen muttered. “‘s not like I can get any boons anyways.”
That… that was true. She did have a free slot. Elia should have done that ages ago, but having explicit permission took a small load off of her heart.
“Thanks…” Elia shot them a smile and sighed. “I think I’ll need actual lockpicks for this. Stupid good locks.”
“Your gear should be in one of the rooms down the corridor. I’ll muffle your footsteps, but only until you fall out of earshot.”
“And I will give emotional support,” Mouggen said, grumping. “Not that I’m much good for anything else these days. Except for killing giant slugs. Gods, the size of that lad–”
All sound abruptly cut off while Mouggen kept on flapping his lips. Elia smirked, then made her way to where her gear was supposed to be. Quietly and quickly she zipped past armories and rooms cluttered with paperwork. No doubt there was a treasure-trove of information hidden in there. The secret service, rather, the thieves guild really wasn’t expecting any hostile actors to make it into their hideout.
And why would they? The windows were shuttered, the doors leading outside completely blocked by rubble stacked a story high, and the chimneys were stuffed with some sort of rubbery material. It wouldn’t surprise her if the entrance behind the illusory wall was the only way inside.
She really needed one of those little anti-illusion brooches Zane had had. It would be good enough loot to justify him having wasted so much of her time on the second day.
As the bubble of silence dropped around her, she slowed down considerably, checking every corner for possible enemies. Nobody was around. Maybe Zane and friends only used this hideout as a meeting and staging point rather than actually living in it. Still, it was odd that she hadn’t encountered even one person so far.
Suddenly, Elia heard a familiar sound coming from inside an armory filled with ninja weapons. Quibbles was squeaking in distress; her pack was wedged against the wall and he couldn’t get out of his pocket.
“Hey, everything’s fine,” Elia said, trying to calm her toad as she ruffled through her gear. Everything was in place, and what was more, the amount of weapons in the armory spoke to her looting instinct.
Scalebreaker
A short straight sword with a thin tip made for penetrating all but the strongest of defenses. Hails from a land to the east, where good metal is scarce. Such a weapon is a rarity, and prized among mortals.
She grabbed the shortsword, a bag of caltrops, and a few other knick-knacks.
However, Quibbles was only squeaking more frantically. He wasn’t hurt, but it also wasn’t the kind of sound he made when he was glad to see her. She got a bad feeling and as if to underline it, Rye’s [Threat music] started nervously plucking the violins ever so quietly.
Something really was not alright.
She hurried out of the room. Her footsteps echoed awfully far in the completely silent hallways. She turned right, then left, then right again. Instead of arriving at the jail, there was another hallway just like the one she’d come from. Elia turned around, slowly, and peeked into the nearest room.
It was the same armory.
“Shit,” she muttered.
Someone must have noticed that she was here and used a boon, or some sort of illusion magic. Maybe she was just asleep and this was all a dream but – no. Rye had control over dreams, certainly more than whoever used a simple boon.
She retraced her steps and found that not every path led into an infinite loop. Turning left for instance left her in the foyer. Walking up the stairs worked like always as well. When Elia walked down the stairwell, it seemed to stretch into infinity.
The power was drawing her closer, drawing her in towards some unknown point. Elia would bet a thousand souls that it was towards whoever was using this boon. It seemed a fair tradeoff considering how strong the overall power was. Once you were in its clutches, there was no escape.
Well, she could always think of one way out. Kill the caster.
She ascended the stairway fully, aware of a blood splotch smearing along the wall. Around the next corner a human figure lay on the ground. One of the ninjas, the taller one. Where Elia would normally have felt some form of vindication, all that clouded her mind was worry, worry, and pain as if she’d been stabbed herself.
“Hey,” she said, pouring bowl water into number one’s mouth. “Hey, talk to me.”
He coughed, spilling most of the water.
“Can’t run,” he said weakly. “Too many arms.”
And that was when Elia saw it. It was a thing like the plague-masks from the first loop, long, and lanky, but oh so much worse. It stalked the halls, crawling along the ceiling with the help of six hooked arms. It turned, twisted like an acrobat in slow motion, and touched the ground without making a single sound. When it spotted Elia, it tilted its head in an oddly bird-like fashion.
“Friend?” it croaked, as the [Threat music] played a discordant march. “Rhuna. Friend?”
You have challenged: The Rhuna’s little birdie, the Sun-bleached Moonstrider
A boss. A twisted pet of Rhuna, stalking the pact at the eve of the attack. This was worse than a simple spy, this was the vanguard. But even as it unfurled its horrifying bird-like form in the hallway, Elia felt calmer than ever. Intrigue and diplomacy were not her forte, but she knew how to deal with violence.
Elia let number one lie on the ground, instead turning to face the thing. The Moonstrider appeared to recognize the challenge for what it was. It chirped like a cricket, a series of clicks followed by an abrupt clack of an all too real beak. “Not a friend. Not-not-not.”
It burst into motion, and with it came sound and violence and the threat of death. In a split second it had cleared the hallway and then it was upon her. Six arms descended in a rabid flurry of blows and Elia didn’t have time to breathe between desperately parrying and dodging. She could see the moves, knew how to counter them, but it was like fighting three strong enemies condensed into the body of one.
When the assault relented for a split second, it was only for the reserve arms to start tugging at the air.
A ball of fire and a spear of ice manifested moments before slamming into Elia. She screamed, as she was missing her good armor, and the spear tore a good chunk out of her flank.
Then it was back to dodging and parrying, except with the additional hazard of blood loss. She may have gotten an increase to her body stat thanks to the shard, but even then, this was an inhuman amount of punishment. A strike snaked past her defenses, drew blood across her face. One of the random rings she had taken from Karla’s stash glowed bright, throwing up a golden glowing shield that was near instantly shattered.
It deflected the lethal strike, sparing Elia’s neck. But Elia was at her limit, and so it was merely the next one that took her head.
You have died
Divine grace protects thee, loyal undead
You have lost: Ring of grace x1
Elia woke up again and there they were, freshly returned from Yolon’s fight. The lingering anger in her throat made way for a quiet and cool air of planning.
All in all, that loop went off the tracks pretty quickly, but she had learned a lot. The so-called ‘spy’ that Rhuna had planted was going around murdering people, and would arrive in the thieves guild somewhere around eight hours after waking up on the second day. It was likely going to make good evidence, if Elia found the right tools to transmute it into a corpse.
“Fuck me, I wish Rye was here,” she mumbled as she opened the twin doors, then yelled into the ongoing party. “RHUNA IS ATTACKING, EVERYONE RUN!”
Screaming the equivalent of ‘everyone run, there’s a bomb’ at a bunch of people mid-party went about as expected. Chaos ensued as the dreg and non-dreg security piled in on her.
But that was alright. Tomorrow was a day full of infinite possibilities.