Chapter 25: The Fall
The night had been an all around pleasant time, with new experiences, lots of food, followed by some cool lights.
Dantes’ favourite part was the desert that kind of looked like the aurora. It was apparently only made for the festival, as the process involved several days of involved, dedicated work to create the substance. Nonetheless, the end result was sublime, melting in his mouth in a yummy harmony. With Mitty gone, he’d eaten hers too.
He’d been worried he’d be too full for whatever Mitts made, and his worries had mostly come true. He could probably cram it in, but something his friend had cooked with him in mind deserved more than that. He knew hunger was the best spice, and he wanted to give her and her work the full consideration it deserved, so he resolved to try it in the morning with his full attention and empty stomach.
She didn’t have to cook for him he knew, despite their loose agreement, and he found himself appreciative she went out of her way to make him stuff anyway. He was glad she loved cooking because it perfectly complemented his talents of eating. Is that what true friendship is all about? Probably.
His thoughts were interrupted by a tug on the hem of his jacket. It was Doe.
“Excuse me Sir Wolf, will you escort me back to my room?”
“Oh, are you lost? I’ll help you; I have an excellent sense of direction.”
She batted her eyes at him. “Oh, how noble of you. It will be reassuring to have you here to handle any ruffians that might show up.”
He didn’t know what any ruffians would be doing here, tens of kilometers off the ground in a floating palace of glass, but if she were worried about it, then perhaps it was a valid concern.
They walked through the extravagant halls for a time, Doe holding his hand like he would run away any moment.
As they rounded a corner near what Doe had indicated was her room, a man in a falcon mask approached them.
“Apologies emir, I have a message from your companion. Would you come with me for a moment?”
He recognized the man from the banquet; he and his sister had been wearing matching outfits.
“Oh? It must be very urgent if she didn’t come herself. What is it?”
The man shook his head.
“I’m afraid it’s very sensitive in nature. Hannah requested I tell you in person, Dantes. Alone.”
“Who’s Hannah?”
The man swore unintelligibly under his breath.
Doe cut in sweetly, but not kindly.
“I’m afraid Dantes is my escort for this evening sir, and I cannot part with him tonight. If the matter is urgent, you may relay the message now, and if not, convey it in the morning.”
A slow clapping sounded out from behind them.
“Amazing performance yet again, brother. Another bungled attempt for the report. It seems our little shadow gave you the slip in more ways than one tonight.”
It was the man’s sister, he’d learned from the casual conversations of the evening, though looking closely, they did not much resemble each other. Or act like siblings. The man definitely seemed wary of her from the way his eyes refused to meet hers.
“It’s like catching smoke in your hands, sister. Not much I can do. Regardless. Amira, it pains me to say we will need to take your escort for the evening. Don’t worry, we just have a few questions for him.”
As he said this, the man withdrew a long straight sheath from his boots. Not quite a sword, but too long for a dagger.
Behind him he could hear cloth shifting and presumed the woman was preparing a weapon similarly.
Though he was flanked, he bade Doe get between him and the wall, preparing his staff to fight. He whispered to her. “I did not expect your concern with ruffians to be a likely occurrence. I’m sorry for not believing you.”
The estharian man stepped slowly forward, but as he drew his dirk, an overbearing pressure manifested, physically crushing him into the floor.
He struggled for a moment before he realised the man was also flattened, and as the pressure subsided, he saw only Doe had been spared.
The man in purple rounded the corner, face a stone mask.
“Who. Would threaten violence in my home?” he asked, taking stock of the two recovering estharians and Dantes.
Doe rushed over to him tearfully. “Oh, daddy! These two scoundrels waylaid us outside my room. They tried to separate me from my escort, but when he declined, they drew swords!”
The man, no, the king looked at the duo with a cold light in his eye, walking up to the woman and inspecting her dirk.
“I should throw you in our highest prison for daring to bare steel in my daughter’s presence” he said icily.
“But it would be pointless as your master would have you out soon enough. I will extract reparations myself.” He threw the dirk at the wide-eyed woman’s feet. “But if I hear of one more problem from you two, I’ll toss you off my mountain myself. Now scram.”
The two fled without even looking back, leaving behind a blade in their haste.
“And you, boy” said the man, turning to him. His face softened.
“Good work tonight. Anyone who is willing to fight in defense of my daughter is a friend of mine. Now daughter dearest, come with me. I’m afraid your old man will have to do for an escort tonight.”
Doe followed him with a bounce in her step, appearing completely unaffected by what had just happened.
Dantes, seeing that the man had effectively dismissed him, made his way back to his room, which was on the other end of the wing.
Upon his return, Dantes noticed Mitty asleep on his bed, right in the middle of it. Rather than squeeze on either side, he just curled up on the floor, content to be with his friend once again.
***
Morning found Mitty well, for once. Usually waking involved a routine amount of grumbling, followed by complex cat stretches and some quick practice of her disdainful look before she could really get into the day.
This morning though, she was still invigorated from her success last night, and shot out of bed, only to find Dantes asleep on the floor. She practiced her disdainful look as she nudged him awake.
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“Wah? Oh, morning Mitts. I’m awake.”
She blasted him with maximum disdain before inquiring about the night before.
As he recounted it, she was pleased to find that pink hussy had been completely ineffectual at corrupting her loyal friend with her pretty smile, and stupid pink frilly dresses. She hated pink and frilly things.
Another win for Mittens. She mentally high fived herself.
“Anyway, we need to come up with a plan to deal with those two clowns” she said.
“What? Why? The purple guy said he’d throw them off if they caused more trouble.”
“Whatever the desperate option is, I’m not sure I want to give them a chance to enact it. They seemed confident in being able to leave right away once they had one of us.”
Dantes scratched his head. “Maybe they have one of those glider things.”
That was surprisingly reasonable. She didn’t know how common such things were, but it seemed a safe bet someone prepared to kidnap her would bring means of escaping.
She knew they would all have to leave at noon, so she had a couple hours to make a plan. Or she could just wing it. That sounded like more fun.
***
Hawk was having a wonderful morning. He got a full night’s rest, knowing full well no one was searching for him. His daily reports were a thing of the past, as was his master’s harsh punishments for perceived disobedience, or worse. Failure. He shivered at that despite being safe for now.
While his track record was perfect, more by dint of his short service than anything else, he’d seen what happened to agents who fumbled badly. The Sultan made sure everyone in his service knew the price of failure.
Sometimes, if they were valuable enough, they would leave everything still attached. Newer ones like him with nothing to prove his worth save years at the academy? He’d be lucky to be recognizable.
It was like a vacation, in a way. One he’d never thought he’d get. Nonetheless, his duty involved gathering info, and when he eventually regained his name, he’d need something to show for it.
Getting into the spire had been simple enough. The guards of Windcrown were naïve. When granted the ability to see mistruths, one begins to see the world as black and white rather than the shades of grey it really was. So it was for the guards, being able to skirt around their questions with mostly truths. It had been somewhat lucky, the way they worded some of their questions though.
The true stroke of luck in fact, had been the boy. He recognized William Crowley right away, having been thoroughly briefed before his deployment. While he’d originally come here to meet with the Mitty woman, he would not say no to an opportunity to learn more.
The boy was immune to more violent approaches, here in Windcrown, unfortunately. When the son of the Queen’s friend goes missing, and the guards able to sense lies, even the Sultan would not choose to act so ham-fistedly.
No, the only viable targets were Shadow, whose true name was Mitty he’d recently learned, and her friend. This was the best time to interview her, as despite his searching, he hadn’t been able to locate her in the past week. It was a shame about the other deal he made regarding the woman; he’d quite liked her that night they’d posed as chefs. She seemed like fun.
Speaking of Shadow, he hadn’t seen the eponymous kitty recently. He’d originally thought the cat was some some druid messing with him, but an analysis spell had revealed she was not a shapeshifter, but truly just a cat. Hopefully nothing bad had happened to her.
It had been nice to have a little friend, even if it was only a cat. Unfortunately in his world, his only friends could be animals; humans were too easily exploited, and growing attached to one was dangerous.
That brought him to now, where William was excitedly telling him about this humungous fish he’d caught for the woman. The whole story reeked of a fisherman’s tale, but building rapport was an important first step in any interrogation, whether the target knew it was one or not. That, and alcohol. He poured the ‘young man’ a bit more. Truthfully, it was disgusting stuff, basically fruit juice, but it was strong, and palatable to someone inexperienced to drink.
“…and then she made me the best fish and chips you’ve ever tasted! They were awesome mister! She makes the best food. It’s a shame I won’t see her after today.”
“Oh? Why’s that?” he asked, pretending to be invested in the boy’s obvious crush on the woman who likely barely remembered his name.
“We’re heading north to New Vairon on our usual winter trade route. Dad also likes to visit my mom’s family when he’s there.”
That was information of note. He tried to work that line a bit more.
“Oh? Are they close?”
“Eh, not really. He spent a long time when he was younger away, looking for something, and I think they wanted him to be closer to home.”
“What was he searching for, if I may ask?”
“I’m not really sure. Apparently he spent a lot of time in the Florial Jungle before I started sailing with him, but he never really talked about it much. Not after mom passed.”
He could tell the boy was holding at least something back, but he’d gotten some actionable information, and the time was approaching noon, so it was time to follow his other lead. He could see the guests starting to gather on the other side of the span, trickling into the plaza that marked the entrance and exit to one of the world’s wonders. The bridges were slowly beginning to align into place, though it would be another ten minutes before they were ready to cross, he knew.
Or maybe not. He saw a scuffle, as someone ran out onto the bridge early, quickly pursued by three others. No, two were fighting he thought, though from this distance it was hard to tell, and the one making a break for it… he knew it from here. It was her.
***
She’d gone too early she knew. By just a minute or so, but it was too early. The gap had looked smaller from the plaza, but ahead of her she saw the glass bridges slowly, too slowly inch into place.
Behind her, her determined pursuer sprinted towards her. She was trapped. There was no way out. The gap was too far. She turned to face the man. He did not slow to meet her.
From afar, she could see Dantes trading blows with the woman. He’d gotten stronger this past week, his staff a blur, but for all he’d improved, he appeared outmatched. The woman slowly pushed him back in a flurry of steel.
She refocused on her opponent. She wasn’t much for fights, but that didn’t mean she was helpless either. She withdrew a vial from her pocket.
The man’s eyes widened in recognition, but he had no further words for her. She could see a grim determination that could only be borne of desperation in his eyes.
She uncorked it, and blew, the dust glittering in the sun as it wafted towards him… and was snatched away by the winds, whisking it away like a dream.
Cursing she stowed the vial, withdrawing her chilli pellets instead, flicking several at him.
Some of these too, were snatched by the wind, but not all. The increased weight and now decreased distance separating them helped. One landed on his chest, and the other on his cloak raised over his eyes. This at least slowed him down, but she needed more time still. She hurled random junk now, whatever she had in her pockets. Dice, a fish, her backup kitchen knife, a brass rooster, clothing.
The man wove between her projectiles gaining ground, so she turned to run once more, only there was no more room to run. The bridges inched towards each other, but the gap was still too big.
She tried to poke the man in the eyes as he closed in, but she was no fighter. He countered her final strike with his wrist, than grabbed it with his other hand, quickly twisting it behind her back, and before she knew it, she was pinned on her stomach, his knee in her back driving the wind out of her.
She could feel his panting breath on her nape.
“You’ve given me a lot of trouble this past week, bitch.”
She struggled, but he responded by twisting her arm behind her back, bending it hard.
She screamed.
“This could’ve been painless if you didn’t take that powder. Instead we’ll have to do this the hard way.”
She inched her other arm, that was just trapped to her side by his leg down, towards her pocket. She didn’t have much mobility, so she tried to wiggle it past his leg. Just a bit more…
“Stop squirming.”
The man pulled her arm again, harder this time. She felt a pop and her whole world was pain. Pain was nothing new. It was almost an old friend. It had been with her often, those first, miserable years.
She pushed through it, snagging her pocket, and out tumbled a stone. Barely a pebble really. It was enough. She divested all her magic, all her power into this little rock she’d received from Delphi at the beginning of her journey.
“What are you, an eel? Hold st- what the.”
She felt his grip loosen, either from surprise, or because her limbs had shrunken, her form shortened, and face lengthened, her clothes falling in a pile surrounding her. Unlike her cape, they were not enchanted for such things. Oh well, the party was over anyway.
She limped out from under her clothes, quick as she could, her front right leg useless.
As soon as she was free, she activated the stone again, which she felt as part of her mind as a cat, flickering back to her human form mid limp, changing into a stride. The bridges were closer now. Close enough to jump, and she had the space for a running start.
A man was running towards her, on the opposite bridge. Hawk, she thought.
She ignored the confused shouts behind her as she dashed forward, wind snatching at her cloak and biting into her bare skin.
She ran, planting her bare foot on the glass edge and pushed. She leapt, soaring through the air, legs pushing against ground that wasn’t there. She was going to make it.
And then the wind blew. It wasn’t a strong gale wind, barely a gust. But it was enough.
She landed, chest first on the corner of the opposite bridge, her one good arm flailing for purchase. But it was smooth crystal, there was no grip to be found, no purchase to be had. She quickly slipped until only her fingers held onto the edge.
Hawk lunged towards her, but he was too late. His grasp met air.
She fell.