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The Individual's Kingdom
21 - One Last Little Bit of Fun

21 - One Last Little Bit of Fun

Luke had not known they would be crossing into Terra Daeva until Daniels told him on the way there. They would be spending the night in Gilos, a town on the northeastern border of Ursa.

Technically they had already crossed through the tip of the triangle for a short interval already, Daniels explained, but it was a formality of political maps to pretend the space of non-intervention reached as far as the Asundrian Cracks. In reality, it was more of a large bubble around the easiest entry points up into the Pruinan mountain range. The two walls of the triangle were loosely guarded by Mirastelle and Terra Daeva’s own armies respectively.

For two reasons, the captain thought the best way into the triangle was through the Daevan side. First, it was highly probable that many of the soldiers manning the wall had been called to duty, to join with the greater force to the south preparing to face Ulciscor. Fresh recruits or the otherwise unreliable would be left in place of the real soldiers who were stationed there. And second, he really didn’t want to run into the Mirastelle army right now, given his current status as a deserter. That, and he knew for a fact that while Mirastelle’s outposts did have some blind spots here and there, they do actually do their jobs sufficiently well in keeping intruders out.

Stuck in this musty automobile day in and day out made him feel like he was losing track of time, but he was very certain how much longer they had until the letter’s deadline. The setting sun ahead of them marked exactly two days remaining. According to Daniels, they would arrive in Cherima tomorrow afternoon. They’d done nothing but drive since leaving Little Verte, besides a quick stop so the captain could replace the wolf’s head ornament with a plain radiator cap.

The Magenta coiling his ribs worked unceasingly to restore the damage he’d taken as surely as a tailor threaded his works together. He could see it if he glanced down, a steady pinkish light that bore no glow and left Daniels no clues that anything was amiss right beside him.

Could he trust the captain with his secret?

Trust. Luke was always at cross-purposes with that, wasn’t he?

Before he could think further on the subject, the skyline of a large town rose on the evening horizon. The endless waves of pines upon pines thinned as they approached the Ursan settlement, twinkling with artificial lights visible even at a distance.

As they neared he could make out horse-drawn carriages and automobiles along the paved streets, a mingling of the old and new worlds. Both kinds of transporation bore electrical lighting at the front to banish the creeping shadows of the coming night. The carriages outnumbered the automobiles, but everyone back in Aetas Origo said that would change in his lifetime.

The buildings they passed were of the new style, rectangular and tightly packed against one another. There were no signs of old war wounds— Gilos was untouched, flourishing even, by the looks of all the people milling about, chatting and laughing.

Luke did a double take. Most of those people were soldiers. In the dim streetlights, he could pick out their uniforms, light brown save for yellow at the throat and the white Daevan circle of unity at their backs highlighting a minimalist shield design. Asmari Capella’s men.

“It’s not a secret anymore,” Daniels said, glancing at Luke as he waited for an automobile to pass. “The Shield must have sent soldiers to gather supplies from this town. I imagine the rest of them, like those fellows, have been given leave to have one last little bit of fun before things get serious.”

Daniels was right, now that he looked again. Five soldiers sauntered along in a disorganized group down the sidewalk, their hair disheveled and white buttons undone. One had a drunken stumble to his gait and leaned on another, laughing about something. He saw the same sort of story repeat with other pockets of soldiers they drove past.

After picking a tavern out at random and discussing a simple social strategy— if pressed, they were uncle and nephew, but otherwise offer the locals as little information as possible— Daniels parked the automobile. They headed in after Luke convinced him a man strolling around with a huge spear on his back was anything but inconspicious.

The tavern was spacious inside and smelled of smoked mutton and mead atop polished granite tables and smooth wooden benches, almost all occupied by people drinking and chatting in a low din. Two carefully spaced chandeliers offered electric lighting to the entryway and dining area, assisted by wall-mounted bulbs with shades.

Few eyes passed over the pair as they entered, and those that did quickly returned to their meals and conversations. Only one kept her eyes on them as she approached, a short, stout brunette woman that asked if they were here to eat or sleep.

“Both, preferably. Still have rooms?” Daniels made a point of surveying the room. “Looks packed in here.”

“You’re in luck,” she said. “Last one’s yours.”

As Daniels and the innkeeper’s conversation drifted to payment and what they’d be eating for dinner, Luke took the opportunity to pace around, listening idly to the conversations nearby.

“You had the nine of spades?” an exasperated man said, laying the cards in his hands on the table. The woman across from him was looking quite smug, and the other two at the table seemed to share the man’s dismay.

“The kids won’t be happy,” a blonde woman with a thin golden necklace at another table close by was saying to the man across from her. “What do you owe them anyway? They have plenty of hands as it is.”

“I signed up to be a soldier,” the spectacled man said. “I can’t back out like that. I didn’t know this was going to happen. I’m sorry, I know this is going to be hard on all of you.”

“You’re full of it,” a grizzled man said at yet another table, laughing raucously. “Not a chance. Not a chance.”

“He was! No, you listen to me!” the man beside him protested. “Listen. He was walking down these very streets yesterday morning with this guy that looked like a fancy butler. No, I’m serious! Had the flockin’ diamond-backed coat and everything!”

“Listen to this guy!” a third man laughed, clapping the protesting man on the back. “We get it, you went to acting school.” That one got the grizzled man laughing even harder.

He heard more, but focused his ears on the couple and their quiet argument. She sounded devastated. It hadn’t occurred to Luke until that moment that there could be Daevans who didn’t want this war. They weren’t all just blindly following whatever the emperor told them to do.

Depressing as it was to hear, it was refreshing too in a way. At least it was until a woman in a dark traveling cloak sauntered up to the woman and asked her if Pica had flown off with her mind.

“Excuse me?” the woman wearing the necklace asked loudly, waving her hand. “This is a private conversation. Can I help you?”

“I couldn’t help but overhear your disrespect of the Terra Daevan military,” the woman in the cloak said. Her hood was still up and her back was to Luke, so he couldn’t make out much. She spoke with a strange, unplaceable accent, and her boots still tracked loose gravel from outside. Whoever she was, she’d just arrived.

“My husband and what he does is none of your business,” she said, indignant. The husband kept quiet, adjusting his spectacles. “Stop bothering us.”

“Your husband is doing a great service to His Majesty,” the hooded woman snapped, backhanding the wife. “You will show respect!”

That was enough. Luke took a step forward, the sight of it stoking the fire in him. Deen grabbed him by the shoulder, but he shook him off. This was going too far, even for Daevans.

“Is service to Munitio really so great,” Luke said loudly, “or is that just the lie you tell when you’re forcing your will on others?”

He smirked as the hooded woman froze mid-sentence. She turned away and stared at him. The smirk slid right off his face.

Luke did not believe in the Twelve Flocks, not really. He knew about them, sure, but did he think there were mythical armadas of birds flying around up there? He’d watched the clouds all his life and not seen so much as a single feather. What would they even be doing, he’d often wonder watching those clouds float past. Blessing people who favor them with house decorations and trinkets? Cursing those who use their names in vain?

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The woman whose face he could now clearly make out was that of dark hair framing a caramel-skinned beauty with deep green eyes now staring right at him. Her left eye was underlined by a mark designating her Ahraran clan, a pattern not quite as intricate as Aisha’s.

Right then, Luke was pretty sure of three things.

That he’d only ever met two Ahraran women in his life.

That the number was still two.

And that he was definitely cursed.

“Zaba!” the Ahraran shrieked, reaching for a belt dagger hidden beneath her cloak. She raised it high and took three steps by the time Luke pulled a ribbon of Green from somewhere beyond sight. It shot down his chest into his legs. Her expression shifted from grim purpose to surprise as he sidestepped her and she went off-balance.

He felt ribbons of Green slither like scribblesnakes up his neck as he swiveled his head. Daniels was engaged with a man in a cloak. Luke caught sight of a tattoo underlining that man’s left eye as well. Both of the assassins from before. But how?

A primal sense of panic gripped him. Some of the tables had noticed what was going on with a mixture of reactions, mostly stunned or horrified. The spectacled man was up, shouting something that didn’t quite register with Luke in the moment.

“I am Niya of Cathartes,” the Ahraran woman announced. More than a few at the tables paled at that. She flipped her dagger impatiently and stared hard at the spectacled man until he sat back down with a shamed expression. She lowered her hood. Her hair was disheveled and looked like a very dark orange in the light. “Young though he looks, he is an agent of Mirastelle. Anyone who interferes with myself or Zaba dies. No second warnings.”

The other assassin, a male Ahraran that looked and dressed as though he could be Niya’s twin, grunted from an elbow to the stomach delivered by Captain Daniels. A failed surprise attack, Luke guessed.

And I’m not the same person you chased through the forest last time, he thought, pulling an aqueous red light into his chest. He felt liquid crimson crackling along his arm like lightning.

He silently thanked Aisha for the scare she gave him, without that experience he might still be frozen with fear. Adrenaline had begun to replace his panic. His ribs began to hurt— he had dropped the Yellow and Magenta to maintain the Green and Red. He hoped the adrenaline would carry him.

It worked as perfectly as if he were cheating at a game for children. Luke sidestepped her thrust again and came in close, uppercutting her. This Red-enhanced punch sent her flying into one of the closest tables, the ones who’d been playing cards until a moment ago. Plates and cups of glass shattered at the table broke in two and toppled over.

Luke bolted for the exit as Daniels shoved the assassin Zaba aside, a bewildered look on both the captain’s and assassin’s faces. The innkeeper flung herself out of their way, terrified.

He spared one last glance behind them while Daniels threw open the door. Niya was climbing to her feet. Her face was thunderous, contorted in anger and pain.

They dashed out into open air— cool on the skin— and headed for the automobile. The sun had nearly finished setting, only a sliver of color hanging on like fingers to a cliff’s edge. The captain scrambled over to the driver’s door, flinging it open in a hurry. He jammed the key in to start the engine.

“Get it moving. I’ll follow you,” Luke said as he caught the eye of Zaba stalking outside. He knew Daniels wanted to call him a reckless idiot, but they both knew there was no time for an argument.

Daniels got to work while Luke locked eyes with the assassin. A deep green color, just like his companion. Perhaps they really were related. It made him think of his Green, a raging torrent inside his legs. His ribs were really starting to hurt, but he couldn’t summon the Magenta back. Maybe if he practiced some more he’d be able to switch more efficiently, but calling the colors purposefully took a measure of concentration and effort he just wasn’t used to. He needed Red or Blue on demand. Anything else was a distraction right now.

He half-expected to be staring down the barrel of a thunderflute. Instead, Zaba drew a shortsword from his belt and leveled it at Luke. There had been so many crates at Filose. Were there not enough for the assassins? Or was there some other reason?

Living on the streets and stealing to survive made Luke no stranger to someone angrily coming at him with a knife. It was one of the most terrifying things that could possibly happen to a person, he thought. So Luke had naturally picked up a useful strategy for this kind of thing.

Run like the Bane’s behind you.

Luke spun on his heel and tore his way down the street on Green-fueled legs away from the captain’s automobile, glancing back to make sure he was still being pursued. He was. Good.

Now to lose him and circle back around for that bread.

———

Deen Daniels gritted his teeth and turned the key. The engine started running . He pressed his foot to the pedal just as she outstretched her hand to grab the passenger door handle. He could hear her curse as the automobile jerked away into the street proper.

Deen pulled forward for a few seconds to dissuade her chase, then stopped to lean down and grab a spear out of a cylindrical bag packed full of them like a bunch of golf clubs. He affixed one to his back in a hurry, tugging on the strap to check if it was secure.

In the rearview mirror, he caught sight of the assassin ducking into a nondescript beige automobile just across the street.

Oh. Oh, that’s not good.

The automobile protested as he slammed the pedal, making all sorts of noises but eventually giving way to a dangerous speed for a populated area like this. One drunken pedestrian crossing the road without paying attention is all it would take for something that couldn’t be undone. He swallowed hard.

The screech of the tires had drawn onlookers, people nearby cursing from startlement. One woman was already trying to flag down someone from the town’s watch, a very confused man who took one look at Deen speeding past and wrung his hands. They’d be long gone by the time the local constables got their act together. No, the immediate threat was…

That beige automobile crawled onto the road, then began to accelerate after him. He watched it all with such intensity— the road, the people, the mirror— that he almost slipped up right then and there. With a curse, he hit the brakes and went skidding to the right. He needed to go around the block and grab Luke so he could get them out of this clipping town.

He had around fifteen seconds on her, he guessed. That was how long it took the assassin to turn the same corner. Maybe he was counting fast, though. His heart sure was pounding fast.

He rounded the next corner. Still no sign of Luke. The turn put him back on the long part of the rectangular town block, so he pushed harder on the gas pedal. The engine growled in response, propelling forward, like a wild cat after its mark.

There! Racing out from behind a building on the edge of the street was Luke. Something about the way he moved had an unnatural grace to it, as if he were carefully taking each step while at a dead run. And that punch earlier was just like…

Stay focused, Deen told himself. Worry about it later.

The gap between them narrowed in an instant. Their eyes met as Deen weaved diagonally between two parked automobiles, slamming the brakes. He reached over and threw the passenger door open.

Luke reacted like lightning, spinning as he passed the hood. He leapt into the automobile, shaking it as he landed inside. Deen didn’t bother waiting for him to shut the door and floored it. Metal scraped against the automobile parked ahead and nearly the automobile ahead of that as well until Luke righted himself and pulled the door shut.

Deen glanced at Zaba through the mirror as they continued straight onto another block. The assassin was catching his breath on the corner. He looked expectantly at the beige automobile racing up the street, but Niya passed him by without a thought.

Flocks. Flocks, Flocks, Flocks! She was almost on top of them now!

“Why are they so clipping determined to kill us?” Deen cursed.

He swerved around a horse-drawn carriage in front, shouts and rude gestures from the man holding the reins lost on the wind. A heartbeat later, he watched Niya do the same. She was a skilled driver.

Luke bent down suddenly, saying something.

“What?”

“I’m going to try something,” he repeated. “One of these through her windshield.” He came up with one of Deen’s spears.

“Be my guest,” Deen said. “Careful leaning out. I’ll tell you when a turn’s coming up.”

Luke speared the road twice. The attempts weren’t close. His form for a javelin toss was good enough for someone hanging halfway out of an automobile window, but even if he could do the surreal things Deen suspected he could, the wind resistance was still too much.

“I can’t land the hit,” Luke said, sounding frustrated. “Even if I use all of these—”

“When I say,” he said suddenly, “Act like you’re trying again.” There was no time to explain. No time to think. He saw the answer. “Now!”

Luke ducked out a third time, and he knew Niya would divert her attention to him. Anyone would keep an eye on the guy who decked you across a table. Maybe this spear would hit its mark. She’d be watching.

Watching. And not seeing.

Deen braced himself and threw his automobile onto the other side of the road. They were now traveling the wrong way. And dead ahead, an oncoming automobile with the markings of the local constables mirrored the swerve in a panic.

It wasn’t the worst crash he’d ever seen, thank the Twelve. But it did the job. Metal bashed off metal, and in the mirror he could see both automobiles come to a halt.

He navigated to the north end of town and kept going. The pounding in his heart didn’t die down until they were once again surrounded in all directions by pine trees and oppressive darkness.