Chapter 13

Tythos’s eyes snapped open and he took in his surroundings. Log farm house, band of misfits, fire nearby. He came fully awake. Looking over at the kid, he was curious what had woken him. The kid still had his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, but he had his eyes closed and was moving his hand in the air like he was holding a pen. Tythos nodded as he watched the progress of the kid’s hand. If he’d been drawing, he’d likely have recreated a decent sketch of the sigil. Not good enough to channel power into it, but still not bad for a couple minutes of study.

Looking over, Tythos saw that Sigrun was questioning the two soldiers he’d brought in. The one he’d dragged here was awake. He nodded. He’d have to go ask him some questions after he made sure the kid was not about to kill himself. A soft sound drew his attention and he turned to the short girl sitting nearby. Ah, so that’s what had woken him. She met his eye, still wearing that half-smile that came easily to her. Tythos realized the girl was beautiful. She wasn’t as young as he’d first taken her for, but she was still much younger than he was. She had a face that aged gracefully, and dark intelligent eyes. He felt guilty for liking the way she looked and the way she was looking at him. She was still young, while he’d already lived enough for several lifetimes. He was also bonded to a nightmare. He bundled up the feelings and pushed them aside.

“Were you sleeping, really?” She asked.

“I was.” Tythos said. His internal measure said it hadn’t been long. “Did you wake me just to ask that?”

“What are you doing?” Her dark eyes studied him. He coudln’t read her expression.

“I’m wondering why I’m awake when I could have gotten twice as much sleep.”

“I’ve watching you.”

“Could’a done that while I was sleeping.”

“You’re supposed to be big killer.”

“Yeah, lots of people have told me they thought I would be taller.”

“But you’re a soft.”

“Excuse me?”

“How you say… a bloody heart.”

“No. I am a killer.”

“Oh? This why you bargain for the lives of some common?”

“I don’t like your tone.”

“Make you uncomfortable, I say you care?”

“I’m no hero.”

She smirked at him. This was irritating. Somehow her smug attitude reminded him of the creature and its constant company. He leaned forward.

“How many people have you killed today?”

Her smile faded.

“And how many did you torture?”

He leaned closer, got in her space.

“Because so far today, I’m eleven and three. I got about seventy to add to that first number and at least two to add to that second. Call me a bleeding heart again.” He leaned closer, invasive. He wanted a fight.

“I think I got it!” Said the kid. His bright chipper voice cut the tension and Tythos leaned back and turned toward the kid.

“Good,” Tythos said, “Show me.”

The kid was giving him a funny look. He had a little smile creeping onto his face.

“Were you and Regina about to kiss?”

“No,” Tythos and Regina said it at the same time. He made a note to try and remember her name. If she lived through the night. He didn’t look at her.

“Sketch the sigil in the air so I can see you’ve got it.”

The kid did it and Tythos followed the progress of what he drew. It did look like he had it down. Tythos could feel Regina’s stare on the back of his head.

“Sheee likes you,” said the creature.

Tythos ignored it.

“You like heeer. You’re old enough to be her father. You’ve still got it old man. Time to go get you some hunty.” It made a playful imitation of a little growl.

Tythos was clenching his jaw, but didn’t respond. He tried to focus on something else.

“It’s been a while, wouldn’t you just love to have her scratch your itch?”

His missing hand started to itch and he bit back a curse. He stood and walked toward the corner of the room where the nightmare crouched.

“Are you fucking doing that?” He roared.

The smile on the thing’s toad-like face crept wider than it already was.

“Ten years and it’s been you the whole time?” Tythos shouted.

The smile broke into a grin.

“I’m amazed it took you this long,” said the nightmare.

Tythos pointed his handless arm at the creature. Its grin melted away into a frown. The luminescent orbs in its baggy head took on a worried light.

“Hang on,” said the creature, “Don’t do anything rash.”

Tythos narrowed his eyes at the creature, he set a picture in his mind, and pulled. The nightmare’s eyes went wide and it turned to flee. It got two steps away, but then stopped moving forward. Though it kept running, it began to be pulled inexorably back.

“You’re overreacting,” it said, a note of fear in its voice. “Doing this now might kill us!”

“Tough shit,” said Tythos. “You should have thought of that earlier.”

The creature began to melt, appearing to bubble and smoke, the wisps of black boiling off being drawn into Tythos’ stump. They whipped across the space like they were being blown by a gale, all disappearing into the space where his hand should have been. It filled out from the outside in. The outline of the hand formed, looking like a charcoal sketch. Tythos flexed the hand and then opened it wide.

The nightmare screamed, “Noooooo!”

It appeared to be in pain. Tythos slowed the pull, just enough that the creature was able to take a step away, before yanking back hard. A large chunk tore free from the creature and it began to beg.

“Please! I’ll be good, I promise! You need me tonight!”

Tythos pulled again, and another chunk flew off the creature and formed one of his fingers. He smiled and used it to motion the creature with a curling, come closer gesture.

“Are you gonna kill him?”

The voice came from right beside Tythos and he was so startled he stopped pulling. The whole room fell silent. Tythos looked over to see Camfer, the crossbowman he’d questioned, standing beside him, his eyes fixed on the nightmare.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“You can see it?” Tythos asked.

He still had his hand out, partially formed. The creature was looking back and forth between Tythos and Camfer.

“Yeah,” said Camfer. “Big fuckin black thing that eats people. Sometimes has the face of a man, sometimes it’s a Giant toad. Kinda hard to miss.”

“You’d be surprised,” Tythos said.

“I didn’t even chew on you,” said the creature, addressing Camfer. “Tell him not to do it. He’s going to kill us both!”

Camfer took his eyes off the nightmare and looked at Tythos.

“Can you hear it too?” Tythos asked.

“Why are you asking dumb-shit questions?” Asked Camfer.

“What the hell is going on?” Said Sigrun.

Tythos looked over. She was standing just behind them. She looked from the men to the corner where the nightmare stood, its smoke still trembling. Camfer glanced from her to the nightmare, then back at her.

“Ohhh…” Camfer said. “You can’t see that thing, can you?” He said to Sigrun.

She looked down at the Camfer, “Thing?”

“Yeah, looks like a smoke demon pretending to be a giant toad. A mean one that likes to sass this man and eat people.”

“Giant toad?” Sigrun’s face creased with worry.

Tythos looked at the creature, and began to laugh. He released the hold he had on it and the pieces of his hand blew back into it. The nightmare shuddered, then folded its arms and sat down. It glowered at Tythos.

“You’re a sadist, you know that?” Said the nightmare. “You felt that pain too. I know you did. You were ready to rip yourself apart just because I can throw some wicked shade. Stubborn brute.”

“Pain is irrelevant. The world would be better off without both of us. Don’t push me.”

“Camfer,” Tythos turned away from the creature. “You and I are going to have more to talk about. First I gotta see if I can teach hot-shot over there to channel, or come up with another plan.”

“Another plan?” Sigrun said. “We need to talk about your first one.”

Tythos ignored her and walked back over toward where the kid was sitting, a worried look on his face.

“Giant toad,” Tythos said to himself, chuckling.

“That’s just rude,” said the nightmare.

The kid was pointing at Tythos as he walked over, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead.

“What, kid?” Tythos asked, sitting down. “Use words. I ain’t gonna guess what you want.”

“Your hand!” The kid said, still pointing.

Tythos raised his hand, looking at it. The outline of his missing hand was still there. He opened and closed it. He had some feeling in the fingers. He reached down and picked up the stick he’d drawn the sigil with. He was able to raise it almost eye level, before it fell through the outline of the hand. Holding the stick was like trying to hold a mental image. He hadn’t had feeling in the outline before, or been able to hold the reigns so easily as this. It was also now visible outside of direct sunlight.

“Well that’s new,” Tythos said, looking over at the creature.

“I tried to warn you it wasn’t a good idea right now.”

“So?” He held up the outline hand, “Do you know what this is or not?”

“You broke something.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you won’t be able to do magic or manifest anything until it heals.”

“How long will that take?”

“How long? Impossible to guess, there’s no guarantee it will.”

“Fuck,” Tythos said. “What happens if I try on reflex?”

The creature shrugged. “Maybe nothing? Or maybe we both die horribly. I didn’t write these rules, so I don’t know what’s in the fine print.”

***

The kid had a look of intense concentration on his face. His hand was in the middle of the sigil and he had his eyes closed. Tythos was watching him, twirling the stick between the fingers of the outline hand. It was exceptionally difficult. If his mental image of the stick faltered for a second, or he tried to move it too fast, it would fall through the hand. He retracted his previous thought that it would be better than having to use will to do it. He wouldn’t be able to touch anything he couldn’t clearly see in his mind’s eye.

“We were not done talking,” said a voice behind him. “It’s rude not to let a lady finish.” She said in a coy tone.

Tythos lost concentration and dropped the stick. He pretended not to hear her, instead reaching down and picking it back up.

“Ok,” said the kid. “I can see it clearly now. What next?”

“Good,” said Tythos. “Now imagine it filling up with power from that other place.”

The kid nodded.

“That’s not going to work,” said the nightmare, from across the room.

Tythos looked over at it, the stick fell through his fingers. He made a rude gesture at the creature with the outline hand.

“Sticks and stones,” said the creature.

“Mind getting up off your giant toad ass and telling me what will work then?”

“Rude.”

The creature stood up, stretching languidly. This involved contorting into strange shapes as it rolled and flowed. After it was done, it sauntered over. Camfer gave it a wide berth as it passed. He had been standing in a group with Sigrun and Bird. They were talking in low voices while Tythos worked with the kid. Tythos had been ignoring them. Regina was still sitting nearby. She was watching him. He could feel her eyes on him. He was ignoring her too. The nightmare stood behind the kid and loomed over him, looking down at what he was doing.

“Definitely won’t work,” said the creature.

“Alright kid,” Tythos said. “Give it a break for a second.”

The kid relaxed, sitting back, which caused him to share the same space as the creature. He yelped and sat forward. He looked behind him and rubbed his arms.

“Brrr!” He said. “I think there’s a draft or something. I just had a chill run down my back.”

“Someone step on your grave,” Regina said.

“Something like that,” Tythos siad.

The kid held his hands out to the fire, and tried to repress another shudder. He glanced over his shoulder again, and scooted forward. The creature was looking down at him and grinning.

“Why do not you use his name? Call him kid and hot-shoot. He is Peony.” Regina said from behind him.

“Okay,” Tythos said to the nightmare, ignoring Regina. He made a note to try and remember the kid’s name. “Why won’t it work, and what would?”

“What?” The kid looked perplexed, but Tythos held a finger to his lips and pointed behind him. The kid looked around and seemed to grasp what was going on. He scrambled up from where he was sitting and took several steps back.

The creature looked down at the sigil on the board and stroked its chin in thought. This caused the smoke of its chin to peel off in its fingers and then flow back.

“First,” said the creature. “It won’t work because there is no, other place, like he believes. So power can’t be drawn from it no matter how much he concentrates.”

Tythos picked up the stick again, “So where does the kid get the power he uses from?”

“You don’t know where the power you get from me comes from,” said the nightmare.

“Irrelevant, unless the kid can pull from the same source.”

“No. He can’t.”

“Then tell me where he’s getting it… unless you don’t know.”

“Of course I know—“

“Then tell me.”

“I don’t have the words.”

“You sound like a child. Make an attempt to help me understand.”

“If you you’d just deepen our bond…”

“No.”

“But then you’d know, and probably be able to do magic again yourself.”

“I said no.”

“You may even be able to take me inside the wards.”

“Yeah, and I might lose my soul while handing you the reigns of control. Not happening.”

“I told you that’s not how it works.”

“You’re just stalling because you have no idea, aren’t you?”

The nightmare blew a raspberry, “Fine. Ask him if he can see them?”

“Them?”

The creature folded its arms and turned away.

Tythos sighed. He turned toward the kid and asked,

“Can you see them?”

The kid looked confused, “Uhh, what?”

Tythos looked back at the nightmare, “You see what you get for being vague? Do you care to clarify, or are you going to admit you don’t know?”

The creature stuck its tongue out at Tythos. “Ask him, when he does what he thinks is an invocation; if he can see the magic before it activates.”

Tythos eyed the creature, “I don’t like how you make magic sound like it’s alive.”

“Knowing you, now you’ll search until you find a way to kill it. How would you feel if I told you that water’s alive too?”

“Like you’re a liar.”

“Fine. I won’t even talk to you about fire.”

Tythos shook his head, “Yeah, yeah, and the pearth and the rocks and then you’re going to argue even the statesmen and the nobles now, aren’t you?”

“I like statesmen, they’re so vicious.”

“You’re disgusting.” Tythos turned toward the kid again. “Okay, when you set things on fire, can you see magic before it manifests?”

“No,” the kid shook his head, “Is that really possible?”

“That’s going to make this harder,” said the creature. “Peony is going to have to call fire, then in the point between when it lands and when it goes off, he’ll have to draw the sigil in his mind to redirect the power. Too soon or too late and it won’t work.”

Tythos turned toward Peony and relayed the explanation the creature had given. Peony whistled. He put his hands on his hips and scrunched up his face, looking into the middle distance.

“Think you can do it?”

“Getting the timing right won’t be easy,” Peony said.

“Good,” said Tythos. “This sort of thing shouldn’t be easy.” Tythos muttered the name “Peony.” He studied the kid in front of him for a minute. “What’s your full name kid?”

“Peony Delmont, why?”

“Thank the halls… because I needed a way to stop thinking of a flower every time I see you. If I think of you as Delmont in my mind, it’s going to be easier to take you seriously.”

“Umm…”

“What are you waiting for?” Tythos indicated the sigil with a glance. “Get cracking hot-shot.”

Peony sat back down and placed his hand on the sigil. He began to speak his strange words. The long syllables really did sound like a cat, and Tythos almost snorted. Not wanting to break Peony’s concentration, he reached for the stick again. He began to twirl it between his fingers.

“Is it true, your thing looks like a toad?” Regina whispered in his ear, her tone dripping with lascivious implication.

Tythos dropped the stick. The board burst into flame and Peony yelped and leapt back. Regina started laughing. It was not an unpleasant sound. Tythos was starting to like Regina, and this irritated him. He tossed the board into the fireplace.

“Try again,” he said to Peony, he avoided looking at Regina.

Peony looked into the fireplace, “We’re going to need another sigil.”

Tythos reached down and picked up the stick again. He handed it to Peony. Peony looked down at it with a fearful expression.

“But… what if I get it wrong?”

“That attitude will motivate good practice. Get to it.”

Tythos selected another bit of kindling to try and pick up. It took several tries, the mental image of the last stick incompatible with the new one. Peony had gotten another board and sat down, drawing the sigil with his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, before Tythos managed to pick it up. The exercise made the inside of his head feel sore.

“If you need help grasping your stick, a girl might be talked into giving a hand,” Regina said behind him.

Tythos dropped his stick. Regina laughed again.

***

Edit: typos