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Chapter Seventy-seven

Chapter Seventy-seven

Krissintha Arlonet Dar Ghelain didn’t have a reason to complain, if she was honest, so she only grumbled to herself, making sure none of her thoughts were accidentally leaking out into Kevin’s voice-chat ability. Complaining was a lady’s prerogative, so she could afford to find, or failing that, make up reasons to do so. For instance, the ridiculous wheeled chair Kevin had cobbled together for her, using the same mysterious spiritual techniques he had when making the ill-fated Island Queen nearly a year ago. It wasn’t even the chair itself that bothered her; it was being confined to it for large parts of the day. She knew she should have been happy and grateful that her injuries weren’t too serious, or that she was alive in the first place, because it could have been so much worse. But why was healing taking so long? A broken arm? A twisted ankle? She’d never had such infuriatingly limiting injuries, and she wasn’t even sure if she could count the scuffs and scratches of her childhood as injuries at all.

Then there was Kevin. Life had been dangerous for Krissintha ever since the usurper took over Thyssa, and meeting the spirit had added an element of strangeness and wonder to it. She was somewhat amused that what bothered her about the spirit weren’t things like him getting drunk, almost eating a dog, or the wholesale slaughter he was capable of committing. Instead, it was his ability and occasional willingness to leave her behind. Sure, he was an evil spirit — strictly speaking — but he was also her familiar, and familiars did not leave their hosts. At all. Only in death. Kevin was both fickle and reliable at the same time, she concluded.

She glanced up at Kitala Iwani, pushing her “wheelchair”. She liked the elven woman. She was a warrior through and through, always ready for a fight, and so far loyal in her recent allegiance to Wensah, to the Bureau — which was still to be established — and to her. But why was she so straightforward, almost to the point of being … simple? And why was she so outstandingly gorgeous, even among the elves? And why was she so oblivious about it? Was this … jealousy she felt? Surely not.

The forest path came to an end, and Kiwa pushed her out to the clearing, the location of today’s exercise. It might have been the same place as before, Krissintha wasn’t sure — she hadn’t paid all that much attention to the surroundings yesterday, despite Toven and other instructors at Third Rangers trying to hammer such things into her for the past half a year.

Oh. Toven. He was pissed at them, wasn’t he? The icy tone of his last words before parting ways yesterday was a promise. Of what, she could only guess, but she was sure it wasn’t anything good. Setting aside the how and why of the strange relationship between him and his prized mug, she agreed with Kevin that keeping them apart would have been the wrong thing to do. Normally the consequences of doing the right thing should be taken into account, but for some reason Kevin had decided consequences be damned, and now they just had to put up with whatever revenge Toven was going to enact, probably very soon. So much for being “nice and agreeable”.

She wasn’t worried about Toven hurting anyone — with Kevin around, he couldn’t even if he tried. Which he wouldn’t. He wasn’t that kind of person. Now that she thought about it, most elves weren’t that kind of persons. Elves were nice and agreeable, mild-mannered and peaceful. Their cities were safe, crime and poverty absent, and verbal confrontations were the furthest most of them were willing to take things. She had come to realise it took a special kind of elf to become a ranger or a marine. Unlike humans or orks, violence just wasn’t a part of the elven mindset. During her time in Solace she had gradually come to understand the thoroughness with which instructors slowly but surely transformed meek trainees into rangers who were willing and able to take up a weapon and kill. “Knowing how to wield a weapon is the least important of the skills you can have. Your mind, your body, your attitudes, discipline, habits and determination are the things that will make you a decent fighter.” Master Fenar’s words echoed in her mind, and they made more sense than ever.

But that wouldn’t help now. Toven was going to lead the first assault, and it was up to Kevin to deal with it.

‘Are you nervous?’ she asked the spirit.

Well, let’s just say I’m regretting some recent choices. The reply came.

‘Hm. What do you think he’ll do?’

Not sure. I guess he’ll throw everything he has at us. I overheard some rangers. Three or more teams together will be the norm for today. And Toven will have the first crack at us.

‘That’s twelve rangers minimum. You have nine tentacles you can use, correct? Out of ten?’ she asked.

Correct. Three teams will be difficult to fend off, especially with the five metres … sorry, about eight paces set range. Or is it nine paces?

‘Nine-ish, I think,’ Krissintha nodded.

It made sense — based on the elves’ previous experiences, “five metres” was the average reach of an evil spirit. Unless of course you were a Tentacle Horror like Kevin, but that wasn’t something she wanted to think about too much.

Well, all I can do is my best, so let’s not worry yet. Kevin said, his thought-voice nervous like a peasant’s right before his first — and probably last — audience with his lord.

***

Krissintha looked around for the tenth time, scanning the treeline. Nothing. Not a single ranger in sight, not in the small bushes popping up all over the clearing, not in the woods, not anywhere else. She began to wonder if they were at the right place — one clearing looked as another to her, despite having taken a few classes about trekking and navigation.

‘Why haven’t we started yet?’ she whispered. ‘Are we even at the right place?’

‘We are,’ Kiwa whispered back to her from behind the wheelchair. ‘Maybe the rangers got lost?’

I doubt that. Kevin chimed in.

‘Rangers don’t get lost.’ Krissintha agreed. ‘Where are they then?’ She demanded, still looking around, still thinking to herself that either they were at the wrong place, or at the wrong time, or maybe Fenar had canceled the whole exercise and neglected to mention it to her. ‘We’ve been here for almost an hour. Kevin, you can see souls, right? Anything?’

I can’t see through trees. If they’re hiding behind solid objects I won’t see them.

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‘Tilry?’ Krissintha tried her luck with her bodyguard’s familiar.

I’m sorry, I can’t see anyone. The spirit replied.

Krissintha sighed. This was becoming uncomfortable, and not just physically. Where the hell was everybody? Was not showing up and making her wait for hours Toven’s idea of revenge for his stolen mug? No, that didn’t make sense — this was an official ranger exercise, and even Toven couldn’t just go against his orders, could he? They must have been around somewhere, sneaking and waiting — something rangers were good at. An ambush then. They were waiting in ambush. That was the only explanation.

‘They must be around here,’ Krissintha stated.

She heard Kiwa taking a breath, probably wanting to say something, but the sound of rustling grass interrupted the hushed conversation, coming from not too far. She looked to the side.

A hog, at the edge of the clearing, rushing out from the woods thirty or so paces away.

That’s … not a ranger. Kevin commented.

‘Really? How did you deduce that?’ Krissintha sneered, annoyed.

Kiwa chuckled.

Oi, no need to be an ass. Kevin complained.

The hog noticed them immediately — it slid to a halt and stared at them, then turned its head to look back at the forest from which it had emerged. Krissintha had never had the need or the chance to learn about the behaviour of wild animals — her father used to have hunters in his employ, and even if she had wanted to tag along one of them, they wouldn’t have let her. Still, she was sure that the animal was confused. It was looking back and forth between the forest and them, as if both options were bad ones, trying to figure out which of them was the lesser evil. In the end, the animal decided on a third course of action, slowly walking away both from the trees and her.

‘They’re there. Behind the trees.’ Krissintha came to the conclusion.

You sure? Kevin asked.

She wasn’t sure if the hog had just happened to be there, or its appearance was deliberate bait or distraction the rangers had arranged, but she was sure they were there.

‘Yeah,’ she said.

So, what do we do? Kevin inquired.

‘Well, this is an anti-evil-spirit-exercise, isn’t it? You’re the evil spirit here, so you tell me,’ she said.

Kevin didn’t reply immediately, and she was about to say something else, when the spirit said,

Hey, Hank!

I’m Hank. The other evil spirit said, sounding excited about his new name.

We know. Kevin said, his thought-voice flat. Don’t you dare go full Groot on us, you hear me?

I’m Hank! Hank repeated the declaration.

Listen, you’re the actual evil spirit here. See the hog? What would you do? Kevin asked it … him. Probably him.

Krissintha sighed. How had she ended up with not one but two spirits of the semi-evil variety? Fate? Luck? Misfortune? Something else?

Eat, eat, eat. Let’s go eat it! Hank shrieked excitedly.

Hank had only been a fact of life for a few days, at least for her, but she already knew what the second spirit’s answer would be to most questions.

Well, you heard our resident expert on evil-spirit-affairs. Kevin said.

‘Boss!’ Kiwa whispered, stretching her arm over Krissintha’s shoulder, pointing at the forest where the hog had appeared moments ago. ‘Movement. They’re there.’

Krissintha snapped her head in that direction, and just about caught the sight of something moving. She couldn’t really tell what it was, but if an elf with her superior eyesight said they were there, then they were there. And that settled it.

‘Alright, let’s go have a look then.’ She gave the order.

Kiwa began to push the wheelchair forward, bumping towards the trees, going around the small bushes and mounds littering the clearing. Krissintha watched the hog run off, still wondering if it was a deliberate distraction arranged by the rangers.

They made it to the trees in about a minute — pushing a wheelchair in the tall grass was at least as slow a way to move as the twisted shambling of a possessed host, so it was a somewhat realistic imitation of the speed with which an evil spirit could move.

Kevin’s power flashed blue for a split second as three arrows hit it at the same time. Then another flash, another three arrows falling to the ground harmlessly, all before she could even blink in surprise.

Kiwa swore like a drunk coachman, pointing at the crowns of the trees. Another three arrows hit the wall of Mana protecting them, and this time Krissintha saw where they had come from. The archers were up on the branches, way higher that the nine paces Kevin was limited to.

‘They’re up there!’ she yelled, gripping the armrest of the wheelchair with one hand, pointing up at the trees with the other.

Can’t reach them! Kevin wailed, just as a third volley of arrows hit the Mana Armour covering them. Shit! Behind us!

Before either Krissintha or Kiwa could even turn their heads to look, the body of a ranger flew past them, the blade of his blunted sword missing Krissintha’s neck by an inch. The man tumbled on the ground, a momentary flash of blue power the evidence that it was Kevin who had fended off the attack.

Krissintha only had a second to comprehend how strange the ranger looked — like a bush, actually, covered in twigs and leaves, so much so that if his head and arms weren’t sticking out of the unusual costume, she wouldn’t have known it was an elf.

I got that one! Oh shit, there’s more! Kevin screamed, his panicked thought-voice filling Krissintha’s mind.

Then it was all a blur, lasting another two or three seconds. Arrows bouncing off Kevin’s power-wall, the nearest of the bushes standing up and sprinting to her, four or five at least, blades and spear tips swinging and chipping off blue power as they hit them, then the disguised rangers retreating faster than a rabbit fleeing a bunch of hounds.

‘We’re dead, aren’t we?’ Kiwa said, completely calm. Unlike Krissintha, who was panting frantically despite not having done anything except trying to come to grips with what just happened.

Uhm, well, yeah. Kevin admitted, clearly not happy. Krissy, you basically got chopped into pieces, and I am now immobile. Man, these guys are fast. I only got one of them.

Krissintha slowed her breathing and looked around, counting the weird half-bush-half-elf creatures surrounding them, standing at a safe distance, watching them. Five of them. Then four archers appeared among the trees and walked to their leafy comrades, their eyes on Krissintha, their bows ready to loose more arrows. At least the archers looked like rangers, wearing their dark green capes instead of piles of the local plant life. Krissintha squinted at one of the living bushes; it had Toven’s head poking out of it, his branch-covered hood removed.

‘What the hell?’ she whispered.

Ghilli-suits. Kevin said. Clever.

‘You know what this is?’

Well, yeah. I mean they’re called that where I come from, I don’t know what the elves call them. Back home hunters and certain types of soldiers use them to get close to their targets unnoticed. It works like a charm.

‘I see,’ Krissintha said, looking at the grin on Toven’s face.

All she’d seen were bushes and grassy bumps in the ground. To think some of them were rangers, waiting for them … yeah, it had worked like a charm. Damn.

‘So?’ Toven suddenly asked.

‘You got us,’ Krissintha replied with a lot more venom in her voice than she’d intended or actually felt— it was just an exercise, one for the rangers’ benefit. ‘One immobile evil spirit right here.’

The guy Kevin had managed to tap-out of the fight got up and trudged over to his fellows, who began to congratulate each other on a job well done.

Master Fenar and his retinue walked out of the woods, almost right where the archers had before, and joined the men and women in their discussion, instantly crushing their high spirits, and that made Krissintha smile.

‘Well, this was interesting,’ Kiwa said, letting go of the handles on the wheelchair’s back, stepping forward, keeping her eyes on the closest of the vaguely elf-shaped, moving bushes. ‘I’ve heard of these disguises, never seen anyone use them.’

Can we go eat now? Hank asked.

Krissintha looked around, hoping Kevin’s weird brother was thinking about that hog and not the rangers.

If that hog comes around again, we’ll get it. Kevin answered before she could, and that was fine with her.

‘Are you ready for the next round?’ Fenar yelled to Krissintha.

She sighed and nodded.

This was going to be a long and uncomfortable few days.