Chapter Forty-eight

I wanted to gulp — Krissy was taking this plan of hers quite far quite fast, wasn’t she?

‘Krissy? Are you serious?’ I demanded immediately, worried about where this may lead.

I am. Do you have a better way to sell yourself as a friendly, invisible tentacle-critter? She asked.

‘Critter? I used to be …

I know, I know, don’t get offended now, just do the thing you did with Quenta and Tommi!

‘Do you even know how painful it will be to undo it?’ I asked.

To them?

‘To me!’

You can handle some pain, no? She sent the thought, shrugging.

‘Well, I can, I just don’t want to,’ I said, wishing she had a little more empathy and consider my plight, but then I started thinking.

Yes, ripping the threads out of my comm-node would be as pleasant as a chainsaw to the guts. I’d done it before, most recently with Akela, Kenta and Tommy, before leaving Gal Themar. The primary node would grow back and fix itself in a day, the secondary node would need some work. But the benefits of being able to speak with Arde and Hisa certainly outweighed the pain, especially in our current circumstance.

The elven rangers were an efficient, well organised military — maybe not even regular military but something like special forces. But what they lacked was long distance communication — I was sure someone at some point in the future would discover radio waves, but by the look of it, it would take some time for this world to get there, and I wasn’t a scientist or engineer, so no help from me there. The rangers relied on runners carrying messages, and marks left on trees. It was, well, slow. Having … let’s say four or five teams, each team having one ranger connected to my comm-node, they could pass messages between the teams instantly — provided none of them ventured further than about three kilometers from me, because currently my threads refused to stretch longer than that.

I wasn’t sure if this was what Krissy had in mind, or if she just wanted to show off her familiar, but I was beginning to like the idea. Finding orks and letting everyone know quickly was the desirable outcome of our expedition, so I took a deep mental breath.

‘Are they alright with this?’ I asked Krissy.

Arde and Hisa were looking at each other as they walked side by side with Krissy, dodging trees, roots and rocks. They seemed intrigued by the idea, but I could tell they weren’t a hundred percent convinced about talking to a spirit.

‘So?’ Krissy asked them. ‘Do you want to?’

‘Krissy, tell Hisa and Arde that it’s a useful feature, and there would be no strings attached if they agree to … attach my strings,’ I said to Krissy, pun absolutely intended.

What? Krissy asked, not understanding.

I explained my thoughts to her, about long distance communication, and asked her to tell them that we weren’t looking to gain anything by it other than to ensure the success of our mission.

As it turned out I had been right: Krissy just wanted to get the guys to warm up to me, and hadn’t thought of the communication issue. In all fairness, it should have occurred to me sooner, considering how glaringly obvious it was. Well, I’d been called dumb before.

Arde and Hisa listened to the idea — they mulled it over as we marched, and agreed that being able to pass messages that fast would be an advantage. But they didn’t want to be the ones to make a decision — no surprise there, they were only trainees — so they stopped and invited Dimal and Timo for a discussion.

Krissy explained to them how it worked, mostly repeating and rephrasing my words. Timo was instantly terrified of the idea, but to my surprise, Dimal looked like he was seriously considering it. In the end the decision was left to Dimal, as the only full fledged ranger in our midst.

‘I’m sure it works, you wouldn’t be offering otherwise,’ Dimal said, not doubting my ability to do exactly as advertised. ‘What’s the catch? Doesn’t your patron god have enough shrines already?’

I snorted. Unfortunately only Krissy could hear it. Or maybe fortunately.

‘We’re not interested in shrines, sir,’ Krissy said to the ranger.

‘Unusual,’ the man said.

‘It is, but we have our Bureau. Besides, Master Fenar has personally discussed this with out patron god,’ Krissy lied with the proficiency I’d come to expect from her. ‘We’ve already got what we wanted. Not a shrine. Something else.’

‘Oh? Fenar is … talking to gods? Again?’ Dimal asked, looking nonplussed.

Again? I was as surprised as the elf — I didn’t know the scar-faced hellspawn used to talk to gods. Was this well known to the elves? Then I remembered someone mentioning that Fenar and his wife were so called “First Wave Settlers”. The picture that was coming together in my mind was that Fenar used to be a spiritualist, back in the elf homeland, Fayr-Sitan. Then something happened that broke their trust in gods and spirits, and Fenar had been among those who had decided to leave it all behind and settle here. Maybe he used to be monk — he had instantly known how to send his thoughts to me, and Dimal had just claimed he used to talk to gods.

Neither I nor Krissy had ever asked why the some of the elves had decided to leave Fayr-Sitan behind, migrating to this island and becoming the Solace elves they were to day. Perhaps we should have, but we’d been busy.

‘Well, it was a short conversation, filled with obscenities and then a mutual understanding that there would be no shrines in Solace,’ Krissy said, doing an excellent job of sounding like someone who had witnessed the imaginary meeting. Krissy was really good at this.

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‘So what is it you and your familiar are getting out of helping Third Rangers and Fenar?’ Dimal asked.

‘That’s between us and Fenar,’ Krissy said, sneering under her mask. ‘It’s a personal matter for me, nothing noteworthy.’

‘I see,’ Dimal said, then pointed at her face. ‘Why the mask?’

‘It’s creepy, isn’t it, sir?’ Krissy said.

‘A little. Looks like one of those theater masks from the Mainlands,’ Dimal said.

‘That’s exactly what it is, sir. Just … a tradition of the Bureau,’ she said. ‘Shall I take it off?’

‘No. Keep it on. Makes you easily identifiable, even from a distance,’ Dimal said, then fell silent for a few seconds, probably mulling things over in his mind. The other three trainees watched him think — Hisa and Arde fidgeting in their uneasy anticipation, and Timo with disbelief wrinkling his face. Then Dimal said, ‘Alright. So … how is this going to work?’

‘Sir,’ Timo said, stepping forward to protest immediately, but the ranger lifted a hand to stop him, giving him a stern look, and said,

‘And advantage is an advantage.’

‘What if she’s lying?’ Timo pressed the matter.

‘Hellspawn Fenar vouched for her, didn’t he?’ he said, turning to look at Krissy. ‘You can accuse the man of many things, but he’s neither a fool nor a liar.’

And that was the end of the discussion — Timo stepped back, shaking his head in disapproval, but an order was an order, and he had no choice. Hisa and Arde were … I wasn’t sure. Cautiously optimistic, perhaps?

‘Whatever it is your familiar will do, it will do it to me first,’ Dimal said. ‘If it works and if it’s safe, then the others.’

***

Is this thing on? Can you hear me? Arde asked, his thoughts clear in my mind, sounding, or rather feeling similar to his actual voice.

It’s like you’re both next to me and a mile away at the same time. Hisa replied to him, definitely awestruck.

This is a bad idea. Timo grumbled.

It’s only temporary, trainee team-leader. We deal with the damn marauders, then whatever this is, it will end. Is that clear, Misery? And … what’s you’re familiar’s name again? Dimal said through our brand new spiritual voice-chat.

Crystal clear, sir, Krissy said.

‘My name is Kevin, scout-master Dimal. It’s not a difficult name, you know,’ I said, somewhat offended. This was the third time he didn’t remember my name. Was he doing this on purpose?

Kevin. That’s right. Strange name for a spirit. Dimal said.

Have you heard a spirit introduce itself before, sir? Arde asked.

First time. I don’t know what I expected, but not Kevin. I think I remember a Kevin from somewhere … The ranger said.

This is …hm … the familiar is rather friendly, but his voice is … unsettling. Hisa commented.

This is a bad idea. Having a spiritualist with us is a bad idea. Timo commented again, but no-one said anything to him.

Alright, spread out a little more, and lets see how we can coordinate using this thing. Dimal said, and the trainees obeyed.

I was surprised how fast the elves had got used to communicating with their thoughts — a mere ten minutes, and they were as proficient as Krissy or the sailors. I was beginning to think it wasn’t just the elves’ bodies that were superior to humans’ but maybe their minds as well. Or maybe it came down to the training and discipline they had received as rangers, I wasn’t sure.

The sun was long gone from the sky. The dark forest gradually turned into a dark field, spotted with lone trees, bushes, and occasional, deserted farmhouses. I could see well enough, but Krissy could barely see anything — the moon tried to shine through the clouds but mostly failed, the team was spread apart more than usual, and she was using both my Mana and my verbal directions to navigate and to keep up with everyone.

Dimal was an efficient team leader: he conducted his improvised coordination drills without slowing down and losing time, issuing orders and arranging the trainees in different formations via our voice-chat.

After a few hours we were approaching the coast where we were supposed to find and meet up with another team. By my best estimate it was around two in the morning when the fields terminated in a sharp cliff overlooking the sea. The beach was at least fifteen, maybe even twenty meters below, as rocky and unappealing, running for miles in both directions. I wished I could have taken a deep breath and smell the salty air, but I had to be content with the sight and the sound of the waves splashing and rumbling under the moon.

Anyone see anything? Another team? A runner? Marauders? Dimal asked.

The scout-master was at least fifty metres to our right, Timo another thirty or forty metres past him. Hisa and Arde were on our left at around the same distance from us as the others.

A ranger is coming up to me. A runner. Timo reported.

Alright, tell them who we are and ask where to find Sitanel Niraki’s team. Dimal instructed him.

About a minute later Timo spoke again.

Her team should be about three miles south. They’re watching one of the dips where you can go down to the beach. Another team is searching nearby caves in that area with the other spiritualist.

That’s Kitala Iwani. Krissy said.

Alright, we’ll join Sini’s team at the dip, and we’ll see how we go from there. Move out! Dimal gave us his instructions.

Krissy turned right, and we begun to trudge along the dangerously sharp and abrupt edge of the cliffs. I sincerely hoped she wouldn’t take a bad step in the darkness, then stumble, plummet and splatter on the rocky beach.

***

It didn’t take long to reach our destination.

Scout-master Sitanel Niraki did not look happy — that was the full name of the grouchy woman we found. She was rubbing her eyes with one hand while mumbling some obscenities I could barely hear. Hisa and Arde — the two of them had been the first to arrive to the dip — stood at attention, enduring the curses directed at them, and they sighed with relief when they saw Krissy coming.

Sini stopped rubbing her eyes and squinted at us as we arrived.

‘What the hell?’ Sitanel Niraki croaked, then turned back to Hisa and Arde. ‘That’s not Dimal, that’s a torture-jester. Did I miss something? Or did the top decide theater troupes are the new way to fight barbarians?’

‘Uh … no, sir,’ Arde said. ‘Master Dimal will be here in a minute. This is Misery.’

‘Oh? Misery?’ Sini asked, frowning at Krissy’s mask. ‘Can you even see properly?’

‘I can see fine, sir,’ Krissy told the woman, grimacing under the mask, sticking her tongue out at her. Luckily no-one could see it.

At this point I had to reassess the meaning of the elven word I had put down as “sir” — it must have been a unisex word, used to address people of higher rank or status, both male and female.

‘Alright, well,’ Sini said, sighing, or maybe yawning, then pointed at the sole ranger standing behind her. ‘This is Gavil. The others are Sivet and Narak. They are some way away, watching the path going down.’

Sini then looked past Krissy and the others — Dimal and Timo arrived running, kicked up small pebbles as they slid to halt.

‘Ah, Dimal,’ Sini addressed the ranger.

‘You look terrible Sini,’ Dimal remarked instead of just saying hello like a normal person would have. And he wasn’t even breathing harder, not even after having to run who knows how many kilometres to get here. Neither was Timo. They sure made it look easy.

‘Haven’t slept for two days,’ Sini said, almost spitting the words. ‘I was about to get a minute or two, then this … band of clownsprouts decided to show up.’

‘Sorry about that, but we have a job to do,’ Dimal said and was about to continue speaking, but the woman interrupted him.

‘Where’s your team?’ she asked, looking around as if said team was hiding behind one of us.

‘Out and about. Runner duty,’ the man said.

‘I see. So you’re just delivering the Hellspawn’s spiritualist?’

‘Yes, that, but I’m staying,’ Dimal said.

‘Oh, good. Then take over watch and let me sleep for a bloody minute, will you?’ the woman half pleaded half demanded.

‘No time for that, Sini,’ Dimal said, a smile creeping up on his face, making him look outright scary as the moon painted him with lights and shadows. Dimal than patted Krissy on her shoulder, and said to Sini, ‘You will love what the torture-jester and her familiar can do.'