Arc V - The City Beneath
Chapter 61 - To Go Below
It took the better part of three days of painstaking, single-minded work to carve an entirely new deck that included three extra copies of the four of knaves. The distant communication spell Annalisa simply called deviltongue was something plane-touched could all do—a fact of which I’d had no idea. Apparently, it wasn’t common knowledge. The devilborn didn’t need another reason to be stigmatized beyond the extent they already were. Having a secret method to communicate behind peoples’ backs would likely have that effect.
When Hawkley set me on the path of the black fjord pine and the mooncap resin, he hadn’t undersold the difficulty in learning to use the fungus-based ink. But he also hadn’t oversold the final effect. I fanned the finished deck out on my desk, admiring the silver sheen of the portraits against the coal-black of the polished and varnished wood. When the mooncap caught the light of the wane dragons, it didn’t just shine. It glowed. This was a handsome deck, and no bones about it. I still caught myself admiring my own work overmuch. My lines were fine, my carving was precise, and my designs were immaculate. But it’s hard not to be proud knowing that even your castoffs are going to advertise to upper city mages.
Annalisa had been bouncing off the walls (and probably Damen’s bed, the poor elf) for that whole time. I’d had to ban her from my office so that I could concentrate. While she waited for me to emerge from my office, I could still hear her driving the rest of the mop somewhat crazy. When I finally did come out, it was as a whole Soul Seeker once more, able to perform true readings and evoke a variety of cards.
“Finalllyyyyy!” groaned Annalisa. Then, she brightened. “Does this mean we’re finally…?”
“Yes,” I said, sighing. She pumped her fists in the air like she was doing rapid uppercuts. “We’re finally going to the undercity.”
I was out of excuses and reasons why not. With the wolves managing Kindledown, things had been quiet over the last few days. The wards on the Mop had kept several Mayazian agents away, and intel suggested that the remnants of the Teeth were more interested in devouring each other than cooperating to mount any kind of resistance—not a metaphor. They were literally killing and eating each other. A fact my wolven agents in the matchbox were all too happy to exploit. They still had a lot of grudges to settle.
Not only that, but our stolen guild badges had elevated again. They’d gone from pig-iron to true-iron after our impromptu two-versus-two battle against Foe Skull and her champion, Sump. But it had been a close thing, and they hadn’t even had magic items. If they had? I probably wouldn’t be alive to tell you about it. Gods, that axe of hers had been plenty deadly. We couldn’t afford to keep putting the delve off. We needed either items or the money to buy them.
Before anything else, I found Mithra, and Miss Trundi and gave each of them a copy of the four of knaves with a tiny sliver of my will embedded.
“These will let me talk to you remotely,” I told Mithra.
“Oh, I remember,” she said, offering me a coy smile. Recalling the lurid images she’d planted in my head made me blush just a bit, which was her intent. But got down to brass tacks almost immediately. “What’s the range?”
“About a quarter mile. But it’s getting larger as I get better with the deck.”
“Can I use it to talk to anyone with one of these?”
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“No. If you need to, I can relay messages to anyone in range.”
Mithra considered. “How about interference? Would I be able to contact you on your delve?”
“We’ll be well out of range unless you’re right on top of us,” I said. If I’d been reading the charts correctly, the areas Alondalis outlined were just under a quarter mile beneath the surface of the city.
Miss Trundi was not nearly as receptive to the possiblities. “If yer a quarter mile away, just come say it in person, ye ruddy git!”
she slipped it into her shift abutting her amble bussom. I was quite glad at that moment that I could only hear through the cards, and not see through them.
Jeedle was next on the docket, and he was putting a crop of new fighters to the test at the main pit, where they baked in the sun as they threw each other down into the ash. I whistled for Jeedle’s attention, and I saw the fighters stop the fight and look up, several pointing at Annalisa and murmuring to each other.
“Ain’t anyone tell you louts to stop!” roared Jeedle. He shot me a nasty look as his fighters got back to work, but I held the ladder steady as he climbed out of the pit and wiped the ash and sweat off his forehead with a rag so grimy I’m fairly sure it left more on than it cleaned off. He took a pull from the water barrel.
I looked down in the pit while he cleaned up. “I don’t recall you having this many fighters, Jeedle,” I said.
“They all come running after Anna’s fight, wanting trained up. Most of ‘em ain’t even fighters. Just apes with eyes bigger’n their teeth. Bone King’s share of ‘em are worthless. Some of ‘em, might show promise in time, though. Just wish I knew which was which afore I wasted it sorting ‘em out.”
I looked down at the crowns on a few of the fighters. There were as many fighting styles across the world as stars swallowed by the dragons, and each had its virtues. But there were a few cards I’d come to associate with strong martial prowess. The three of Spears, for balance and positioning. The Four of Ways, inverted, for exploiting the missteps of others. The Mountain, like Storm-laden, for fortitude and immutable strength. And, of course, the Precipice, for those rising to great heights. Like Annalisa.
I motioned Jeedle over and pointed down in the pits. “Those two girls, that redhead, that drakkyn with the scar, those half-orc brothers, and that half-elf with the quarterstaff are your best bet. The wild-marked with the feathers and the she-drakkyn might take some work, but they’ll get there.” I paused, looking at another pair. “He’s a shark spy—don’t react, we can feed him false info to take home. And the other I think might actually be a free undead.
Jeedle’s eyes tracked the fighters as I called him out. Then he cocked his eyebrow at me. “Lad. I’m not even gonna ask. I’m not gonna argue. Not going to even doubt. Just gonna say: you fuckin’ scare me.”
I grinned. “These are the future of Barrowdown, my friend. Strong fighters with faith in their leaders.”
“Faith in one of you,” said Jeedle. “They adore Annalisa. But the rumor mill has its claws, too. Fighters respect strength, and they doubt you had anything to do with winning that fight because you never threw a punch.”
“Ouch,” I said.
“It ain’t you, lad. It’s a mage thing.”
It was also a me thing. Annalisa had done a lot of the heavy lifting in our fight against the Teeth. Not only had she battered down Sump’s defenses enough to completely soften him, she’d managed to get in a few licks against Foe Skull as well, and even kept her axe from cleaving me in half. But I wasn’t even fresh going into that fight, and the she-orc had kicked me in the back down a twelve-foot drop. And hell, they expected me to punch an orc wielding a war axe?
“I think I might need to take a moment to fix some notions people have gotten,” I said, shrugging out of my suspenders and beginning to unbutton my shirt. “Scar and one of the girls, I think.”
“Both at once?” asked Jeedle. He looked at Annalisa for confirmation, but she was looking at me disrobing with an odd intensity, or maybe a focus I’d not normally associate with the flitting attention of my partner. I narrowed my eyes and activated the four of knaves, catching her sending an impression of what she was seeing to Mithra. She stopped, looking appropriately chagrinned at being caught in the act.
I sighed and draped my shirt over the edge of the water barrel to keep it out of the ash. I made my way down the ladder into the pit as the new hopefuls watched. The regular fighters had also stopped to watch, knowing something was about to happen.
My new deck was ready for its first test run. I pulled it out and released the binding.