If I’d expected Chomai to be happy with my decision to let Ishar live, I would have been horrifically disappointed.
“What do you mean, that son of a bitch is coming with us?” she hissed when I told her the deal I’d made.
“Kamath thinks we’re dead, Chomai,” I explained patiently. “That means we can travel a lot more freely, now. In return for that, I promised I wouldn’t kill him or the other two marshals.”
As it turned out, only four of the marshals survived the fight. Two of those were the ones Ishar accidentally severed, using his rune without realizing that the explosion had taken their hats off. Those I executed, leaving the other two to be dragged with Ishar to the jail, stripped, and locked together in the cell with Ashua watching over them. I gave the man strict orders not to hurt them and to make sure they got food and water. He didn’t like it, but he wasn’t about to argue with the man who’d just killed eight marshals and captured two–and blown the hell out of the train platform in the process.
The dynamite–or whatever the locals called it–had done a number on the train, the platform, and some of the passengers. The platform was basically ruined, with holes where the explosion had gone off and cracks that made it too unstable to load and unload heavy wagons. The Flame Wave had set large parts of it on fire, and the blasts had spread those fires rather than knocking them out. Fortunately, the townsfolk had plenty of time to lay down temporary planks over the weak spots since the blast rocked the train slightly and took its closest wheels off the track. Once they realized the fight was over, the railroad employees had gotten to work shifting the wheels back on. Each axle seemed to be free-floating, so they could lift them on one at a time with a hydraulic jack and a long prybar, but the process was slow and laborious, and they’d only gotten one axle back on by the time we’d left the platform with our prisoners. Afterward, we returned to the hotel so I could tell them what I’d learned, and that was when Chomai exploded.
“I don’t give a good damn what he did for you!” she snapped. “That asshole don’t deserve to keep living!” The woman’s nostrils flared, and her tan skin flushed crimson with her anger. The three of us sat around the dining room table. We were the only people in the hotel until the platform was repaired enough to let people off the train, and with the door leading out closed so the gossipy hotel owner couldn’t hear us, it was about the safest place I could think of–even more so with the Sanctum rune wrapped around us to muffle any sounds we might make.
“Calm down, girl,” the sheriff said. “This ain’t that big a deal.”
“No, I ain’t gonna calm down!” She took a step toward me. “You don’t know nothing about that man, Naasi. You don’t know what he’s capable of or what he’s done already. If you did, you’d have already put a bullet in his skull.” She reached for her pistol, rising to stand.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the old man asked.
“I’m gonna do what he should have, old man!”
“Sit down, girl,” he sighed.
“Not a damn chance. Naasi agreed to let him live; I sure as hell didn’t!”
“I said, sit down,” he repeated, his voice gaining a slight growl. Danger practically emanated from the man, rolling off him in waves, even though he hadn’t moved or reached for a weapon. Chomai paused, staring at him, then sank back into her seat in silence.
“Now, I don’t know this marshal, like you said,” the sheriff continued, his voice calm once more and any hint of threat vanishing like a breeze, “but I do know the boy, here. He ain’t much on kindness and mercy–or leaving enemies alive if he don’t have to. He’s got a reason for doing what he’s done.” He looked over at me. “Mind sharing it with the girl, so she stops losing her damn mind?”
I nodded, then looked at Chomai, leaning forward on the table and giving her a serious look. “I didn’t leave him alive out of mercy, Chomai. I did it because we might need him.”
“Need him? We don’t need him or his kind.” She snorted contemptuously, but I ignored her obvious anger.
“We might. If Kamath reaches out to him again–no, make that when he reaches out again because I’m sure he will–if Ishar isn’t around to talk, it’s going to make Kamath suspicious.”
“Why would Kamath need to talk with him?” she asked dubiously.
“Because eight marshals died today, Chomai. Ishar told Kamath about it. Do you think Kamath isn’t going to want to find out more about that?” I shook my head. “Someone’s going to have to answer for those deaths.”
“You think Kamath cares about his people dying?” Ramka asked dubiously.
“I think the Service will.” I looked at Chomai, whose face no longer looked like it was about to catch on fire. “Chomai, about how many marshals does the Service recruit in a year?”
“Top five are chosen from each class,” she said promptly and with a touch of pride. “You don’t make the top five, you don’t make the cut.”
“Five out of how many applicants?”
She shrugged. “Depends, but it’s usually around twenty or so.”
“Marshals have high standards,” Ramka added. “They don’t take nobody who’s got less than four and a half in any stat, and they only take applicants with at least one five or better. Not many folks make it.”
“Those are stringent standards, John,” Sara added. “Maybe one or two in fifty thousand will qualify.”
“So, think how long it’s going to take the Service to replace their losses,” I explained. “Probably twenty marshals have died so far, at the very minimum. That’s four years’ worth of recruits, and they’ll be replaced by people fresh out of training, with no experience. Do you really think the Service is going to sit back and let this happen without demanding answers?”
“No,” Chomai shook her head. “They’re gonna want blood. Marshals are rare, but they’re also expensive. They tell us that training a marshal costs fifty sonats each, and equipping us costs about the same.”
“Damn,” Ramka said appreciatively. “That’s probably as much as all of Murkburg is worth.”
She nodded. “A woman could live well off that for a long time. They like to remind us of it when they give us shit duties, so we think we owe them.”
“So, these lost marshals are a major blow to the Service,” I continued. “And the Service is going to want explanations of why so many died, and how they’re going to get their money back. It doesn’t sound like the Empire is going to be able to recoup these losses with taxes.”
“Not unless they bleed the whole basin dry,” Ramka chuckled. “Even then, I ain’t sure they’d get 2,000 sonats out of it.”
“And Kamath doesn’t strike me as the type to accept the blame himself,” I pointed out. “He’ll want to pass it onto someone–and Ishar’s the best candidate he’s got. Really, the only one.”
“So?” Chomai asked. “Why the hell should I care?”
“A man don’t make it as high in the marshals as Kamath without being able to play politics, girl,” Ramka said. “He’s gonna be busy setting Ishar up to take the fall for this. The boy’s right; he’ll be in touch with Ishar again, this time with witnesses around to hear the man admit that he got eight marshals killed.”
“So, he needs to be alive at least until we reach Chatrig,” I said. “Just in case.”
“And once we get there?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t much care what happens to him at that point. Personally, I don’t think it’s going to be an issue.”
“What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“The boy means, Kamath’s the type to solve his own problems,” Ramka chuckled. “He’s probably gonna plan a warm reception for Ishar up in Chatrig, and there’s a good chance that whatever Kamath means for him is a lot worse than a bullet in the skull.”
She sat back, her face thoughtful, then nodded. “That’ll do for me. I only hope I get to see it.”
“You really dislike this man, don’t you?” I asked with a grin.
“Dislike don’t quite cut it,” she said, biting off the words as she spoke. “I think the phrase you want is ‘eternal, fiery hatred’.”
“Damn, girl,” the marshal chuckled. “Those are some mighty strong feelings. Care to share the reason for them?”
She made a face, then sighed, folding her arms over her chest defensively. “Fine. You wanna know? I was Ishar’s deputy once, right out of the academy–and his lover.”
“I could see both of those explaining the hatred–if it was him hating you, that is,” Ramka chuckled.
“Watch it, old man,” she growled, reaching for her pistol but not drawing it. “I’ve killed men for less.”
“No, you haven’t, girl,” he snorted. “I take it things ended badly, then?”
“You could say that,” she replied coldly, sliding her chair back and rising to her feet. “It ended with the two of us fighting a duel and a hundred dead people who never did nothing to deserve it. It ended up with him getting a damn promotion, and me getting a formal inquiry. It ended with me promising that one day, I was gonna shove my scattergun up his ass and pull both triggers and laugh while I did it.”
“So, badly, then,” he said amiably.
“You know, old man, I’ve never actually done that to someone,” she said warningly. “I might need a bit of practice before I try it on that son of a bitch. More and more, you’re looking like a damn fine candidate.” She turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
Ramka watched her go with a chuckle. “That is one hell of a woman,” he shook his head. “She’s gonna make some man’s life a joy and a misery all at the same time someday.” He looked at me appraisingly. “You know, Naasi…”
“I’m good, thanks,” I cut him off with a laugh, reaching into my pocket and pulling out three slim decks. I tossed them on the table, and he picked one up. The case was small, holding maybe ten cards, and it had a leather belt attached to it.
“Bandit’s case,” he pronounced. “Meant for hiding valuable cards under your clothes. I take it one of the marshals was wearing this?”
“Yeah. Ishar had it strapped against his lower back.” I leaned back. “I was thinking about doing something similar, actually. It’s a good idea, hiding an emergency deck away in case of being captured.”
“In theory, sure. In practice, anyone with a brain is gonna strip you down and find that case. Everybody does it, so everybody knows to look for one.”
“Then what’s the point of doing it?”
He shrugged. “No harm in it, and maybe you’ll get lucky, and the handler that catches you will be an idiot or a damn fool.” He tossed the pack back toward me. “Might as well keep it and use it. It can’t hurt.”
“True.”
“So, what next?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. “I presume we’re heading to Chatrig?”
“That’s the plan,” I nodded. “The next northbound train is supposed to come through in six days, but I don’t know if the train getting derailed will delay that.”
“Nah,” he waved a hand. “They can make up the time. The trains don’t travel as fast as they could, you know. They travel as fast as is comfortable for passengers. Out east and way on the other side of the world in Sarjay, they’ve got trains that only carry goods, not people, and those go two, three times as fast as the ones out here. They can just speed up a bit to make up the lost time.”
“Good.” I rose to my feet as well. “That gives me enough time.”
“Enough time for what?” the old man asked curiously.
“Come on. I’ll show you.”
I headed out of the hotel with the sheriff in tow, heading to the stable to claim our roadwalkers. We mounted up and rode to the north, past the damaged section of town.
“You know, John,” Sara said as we rode in silence, “I might have a solution for your emergency deck dilemma.”
“Really?” I asked. “What’s that?”
“I might be able to absorb the Storage function from your holding deck into your Adaptive Weapon. It wouldn’t hold much, but it doesn’t take much space to hold cards.”
“That would be handy. What do I do?”
“Just touch the holding case to your whip. I’ll see what I can do. It’s a pretty straightforward property, really. It just adds an extra dimension to the case that you can’t see but can access.”
I didn’t even try to reason out what she meant as I surreptitiously slipped the deck from my pocket and touched it to my whip. As I did, a new notification began blinking in my vision.
“Got it,” she said with satisfaction. “Go ahead and analyze your whip to see.” I glanced at the whip as I slipped my pack back into my pocket and was happy with what I saw.
Adaptive Whip
Item Type: Basic Weapon
Abilities: Adaptive, Bound Item
Adaptations: Golost Blade (Locked), Storage
Golost Blade
This weapon does extra damage to spellcasters and can be used to deflect or block spells.
[Locked–This adaptation cannot be used on this world]
Storage
You can store up to 130 cubic centimeters of nonliving material in your weapon. Storing and removing an item requires the use of magical energy.
“Nice,” I thought appreciatively. “About how many cards is that?”
“Packed tightly? Thirty or so. 130 cubic centimeters isn’t a lot of space, but it’s the best I could do with your current energy levels.”
“It’s a lot better than what I had. I’ll have to fill it up when I get a chance.”
The townsfolk had been busily clearing the train platform, and the first thing they’d done was drag off the bodies. The bodies of the marshals, all stripped of their gear, had been carried out to the town’s graveyard or wherever they buried their bodies, but they’d hauled the beast carcasses out of town separately, loading them on top of the pile of lumber too damaged or contaminated to reuse so they could burn them. I’d asked them to hold off on lighting that pyre for a bit, and when we reached it, my pets had already gathered around it.
As we dismounted, I turned my thoughts inward and pulled up my waiting notifications.
New Rune Learned: High Severing Shield
Arcania Required: 18.3
Counters a Severing Rune of High rank or lower
New Skill Gained: Trapmaking
Rank: Initiate 1
You can create simple traps.
You have 68,714 XP that needs to be assigned.
This XP can be assigned to the following Professions:
Generalist
I’d had Sara hold onto the XP I gained instead of assigning it to my profession automatically. I planned to use some of it to level up, of course, but Ishar’s story was still fresh in my mind. If Kamath was really as powerful as the marshal said, I was going to need every advantage I could get–and maybe even more than that. As they were, my pets simply weren’t ready to handle Kamath. They needed to be better.
“Sara, what can we do with this much XP?”
“Nothing for your High pets, John. The sparksnake and moonstalker aren’t close to ranking up, I’m afraid. You can bring the rest up a rank, though.” She hesitated. “Actually, I might be able to get the shellsnapper or the cloudglider up two ranks. That’s risky, though.”
“Why?”
“Because ranking up is an evolutionary process, and as you can tell from how diverse the life in this world is, evolution here is a bit chaotic and unpredictable. If I pour that much XP into the creature, the changes could be extreme.”
“What are we doing out here, boy?” the old man asked curiously as he slid off his roadwalker, interrupting my thoughts.
“You know that I’ve been hunting pretty much continuously for the past ten days, Sheriff. One reason was to get used to my new pets, but the other was to try and get them ranked up. I’m going to need them to be stronger to face Kamath.”
He nodded. “That’s smart. And all these bodies will help, no question–especially that steelscuttler.” He shook his head. “It might take weeks or even months to get them all ranked up, though, boy. I don’t know if you’ve got that kind of time–and I certainly don’t need to be here to watch them eat.”
“No, not weeks. I picked these creatures to bond not just because they were appropriate for me, but because they were all close to ranking up already. Between the hunting and the battle today, they should be just about there.” I ordered everything but the sparksnake and moonstalker to grab one of the carcasses and begin eating. It wasn’t necessary, but it provided an explanation for what was going to happen next.
“There ain’t no way to tell if a pet’s ready to rank up, boy,” he shook his head. “People have tried. It just ain’t poss…” He fell silent as Sara channeled some of my XP into the feasting creatures, and one by one, they stopped eating and crept back away from the corpse, their movements jerky and unsteady. The shellsnapper broke away first, its crablike legs scuttling awkwardly backward until it backed into a tree. Pinkish slime began to ooze from its tentacles, slime that it coated itself with, smearing the sticky substance all over its rubbery skin. The cloudglider was next as it lurched drunkenly up to a nearby branch and began belching the same slime out onto its feathers, twisting its beak around to coat itself thoroughly. Each of the creatures found a spot in turn and began to pour forth pink goo, coating themselves in it.
“Sara, go ahead and boost the snapper up two ranks,” I told her after a brief thought. “I don’t really need the cloudglider to be High rank just yet; it’s mostly a scout, after all.”
“Of course, John. Do you want to add the remainder to your profession?”
“Yes, please.”
“Done.”
More notifications appeared, and I examined them, as well.
Your pets have begun ranking up!
Estimated time to completion:
4:19:41–5:14:26
Profession: Generalist has gained a level!
New Level: 5
For each level of Generalist, you gain:
Dominia, Personia, Arcania, Reason, Intuition, Charm, Prowess, Vigor, Skill+1
4 Skill Points
“What the hell, boy?” the old man said in a near-whisper, his face amazed. “How did you do that?”
“I can feel how close they are to ranking up through the bond,” I lied easily. “It’s like a pressure, pushing back at me. When that pressure feels close to bursting, I know it’s time.”
“I ain’t never heard of anyone doing that, and if I hadn’t seen it, I’d have never believed it.” He shook his head. “That’s one hell of a gift you’ve got. If you could figure out how to turn that into a rune, you could get rich as hell selling it.”
“That might be possible, John,” Sara suggested. “I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll look into it,” I told the old man. “For now, let’s head back to town. We’ve got a few days before these guys wake up, and I want to spend them getting ready for what’s coming.”