The gang’s headquarters was nearby, apparently, and after ten more minutes of walking we arrived. The sun had finally crept below the horizon, and in the fresh darkness it took me a moment to realize that the pile of half-rotten wooden planks we had stopped at was actually a building of some kind and not a refuse pile. It still wasn’t until we circled around to the door that I fully accepted it. The man standing outside knew Shayng but was wary of me, and he only grew warier once Shayng muttered a brief explanation of who I was to him. The pair probably thought I couldn’t hear them, but I heard enough to know that they probably weren’t trying to set up an ambush unless the group had very secure code words. Considering the state of their headquarters and the caliber of their members, I considered that possibility unlikely.
Shayng instructed me to wait outside while he smoothed things over, then went into the building and had the door shut behind him. As I waited, I let my mind wander, ignoring the piercing stare from the door guard. There aren’t a lot of women here, I thought, usually they’re about one-third of the foot traffic in cities, but here it’s less than one-tenth by my estimation. I wonder why that is. If it was a measure to stop reproduction I’d think they wouldn’t allow any women in, so it can’t be that. All of a sudden I was overcome with the desire to yawn, and I realized how tired I was.
What happens if they recognize me? I asked myself. The implications of the officer’s statement that I didn’t look like Yuwniht Lihyveyz were promising for keeping a low profile, but didn’t entirely remove the possibility that someone knew me. I have to operate under the assumption that it’s been somewhere around ten years since I fought R’vaajh, I decided, If it were much longer than that there would have been some linguistic drift… probably. Aaljh said it was seven years since he shot a rifle, so the timeline would fit as well. If it’s been ten years they probably won’t know me immediately, so maybe I should try to come up with a cover story.
“You’re awful quiet” the door guard muttered, interrupting my thoughts.
“And you’re awfully loud,” I growled back. The officer said they didn’t put anyone they couldn’t handle in here, I continued, that means that it’s quite unlikely they have a kehpveht or yihzhae level fighter in here at all, at least intentionally. Not that I shouldn’t be careful, but if it does come to blows I can probably attack under the assumption that nobody is going to have any unconventional techniques. That way I can eliminate them quickly before they can group up and become a threat. With my worst-case course of action decided I began drawing on my knowledge to make a temporary fake identity, then someone knocked on the door from the inside. The door guard leaned back to hear a whisper, then grunted and gestured to me.
“Get in,” he ordered, opening the door. Without a word, I walked past him into the dark hallway and he shut the door behind me. The interior of the building was a bit more orderly than the outside, evidently it had been “properly” constructed at one point and probably just buried in boards and rubble as a defensive measure. Looks almost like it was a barracks, I thought as I walked by several small rooms that could have fit beds, but instead were being used as storage. At the end of the hall, I found another door, tried the handle, then realized I had to knock. There was some laughter from inside before it opened to reveal what was certainly once a storage room, repurposed as a meeting hall.
“He doesn’t look that big,” a deep but somehow distinctly female voice grunted from the back wall. Since the interior of the building was lit with torches and the ventilation was poor, I could barely make out the features of the people standing along the back wall until I was almost halfway into the room. Looks almost like the Hatchet Crew, was my first thought once I saw them. Most of the gang members wore torn-up or otherwise modified versions of the prison uniform, with some having animal skins stitched in. Everyone had at least a knife, two men had makeshift spears, and the short-haired but muscular woman who had spoken up first held a strange macuahuitl-like weapon with metal blades.
“Did Shayng tell you what I want?” I asked.
“Is that any way to start a conversation?” the man in the middle scoffed. He was very obviously the leader of the bunch, being visibly the oldest with slight wrinkling and greying hair on both his head and in his beard. Even though he was smaller than average for the room, his presence communicated authority and everyone was subtly following his cues.
“Did he or didn’t he?” I asked, finally finding Shayng in the corner glaring at me.
“You want a work ticket,” the leader said. “I have to say, ‘friend’, I’m not inclined to give it to you with your attitude being as it is.” Eleven people total, I counted, out of them, about three look like they can fight properly. Pretty much everyone in the room except the leader and the two people on either side of him held themselves like amateurs with a complete lack of discipline. They reminded me of the street criminals in Vehrehr.
“I have one to trade if you want it,” I offered, removing my ticket. “Servant work in fifty-eight days.”
“Then why do you need mine?” the leader jabbed.
“I need to get outside the walls as soon as possible,” I replied flatly.
“You sound like you’re planning to try to escape,” the leader snorted.
“And if I am?” I challenged.
“Then I have even more reason not to give it to you,” the leader snapped. “If you try to run on the job that means whoever gave you the ticket gets killed if they’re lucky. Even if I knew you, even if you could pay for the ticket, I wouldn’t sacrifice one of my men like that.” They even go that far, do they? I sighed, I should have suspected as much. It’s about the only way to keep prisoners in line.
“Trade the ticket officially to someone else, then have them trade it to me,” I said.
“Wouldn’t fool me, won’t fool them,” the leader spat. “Now I hear you’ve been beating up a few of my boys, care to explain yourself?” The woman beside him with the macuahuitl cracked her knuckles, probably as some kind of threat.
“Those two idiots started and lost two fights with me,” I said. “Both of them should consider themselves lucky to be alive, assuming the one who isn’t here didn’t choke to death.”
“He’s lying,” Shayng yelled. “He just came out of nowhere and demanded money from-”
“You offered me money to leave,” I interrupted. “I don’t have the patience to deal with this nonsense. If you won’t give me the ticket peacefully I’ll just find Zvawr and take it from him. It’s not like I plan on coming back anyway.”
“You think we’ll just let you leave?” the leader laughed.
“I think you can’t stop me from leaving,” I corrected.
“Pretty confident, are you?” the short-haired woman sneered. She reminds me of Taaljheyz, I thought with a twinge of disgust. Something about the way the woman looked at me just made me dislike her. Apparently it showed on my face, because she took a step forward aggressively.
“Raav, stop,” the leader ordered. “You, sehpeylay, what’s your name?”
“I’m not telling you anything,” I laughed derisively. “You seem to have misunderstood the purpose of this meeting. I’m only here because I reasoned it would be quicker and easier to ask you for what I want instead of killing people until I found it. If you’re not going to give me what I want, I’ll just do what I was going to do before your idiot subordinate tried to lead me into an ambush that never materialized.” Shayng noticeably winced at the remark.
“Nobody said we can’t work something out,” the man to the leader’s left said, speaking for the first time. His voice was strangely hoarse, as though he had suffered a throat injury that didn’t heal properly. His neck also had a ring of rough scarring near the jawline, so it was possible that was exactly what had happened to him. “I have an idea that might work for everyone here,” he continued, and the leader didn’t say anything to stop him.
“If it doesn’t end with me getting that work ticket, it doesn’t work for everyone here,” I said.
“What’s your name?” the hoarse man asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” I replied.
“It’s awkward to talk to someone when you don’t know their name,” the hoarse man said. “I’m Zhoyl, she’s Raav, and the boss is Taaznay. Now you.”
“Yaet,” I lied, and at least four people in the room all sighed at once. Maybe I should have picked a less common name, I considered. Out of all the male names I had overheard in chatter, Yaet was one of the more frequent ones, though I had never met anyone with the name personally.
“Okay ‘Yaet’, we’re not going to give you Zvawr’s ticket,” Zhoyl said. “Even if you weren’t planning to bolt he’d probably quit and join another gang if we screwed him like that. We do, however, have another job outside the walls in eight days that we would be willing to part with under the right conditions.”
“We do?” Raav asked.
“We do,” Taaznay confirmed. “You’re thinking of the one we swiped a while ago from Zhahleysay’s group, right? The one she hasn’t realized is missing yet.”
“I am,” Zhoyl said. “Yaet, are you planning to run no matter what?”
“Yes,” I nodded, seeing no reason not to admit it.
“Then I think we can work something out if you’re willing to wait a few more days and lie to the officers and guards about who you got the ticket from,” Zhoyl offered. So assuming the ticket’s owner is tracked and the one they’re thinking of is stolen, if I run away it’ll set the guards after their enemy, probably, I thought.
“Seems I’d be doing you the favor in this case,” I replied.
“We’d be doing each other a favor,” Taaznay countered.
“If I have to wait eight days, I’m going to need somewhere to sleep and food to eat,” I said. “More food than just the once-a-day slop, as well.”
“Both are at a premium here,” Zhoyl replied.
“I would imagine people who are suicidal enough to attempt a prison escape are at a much higher premium than food and a bed,” I shot back.
“We don’t need you, doymztoyl,” Raav growled.
“You’ll need something to do while you’re waiting around,” Taaznay said, holding out his hand to silence Raav. “You wouldn’t object to working a little bit, would you?”
“Depends on the work,” I shrugged.
“You talk a big game, but how good are you at fighting, really?” Taaznay asked.
“I’m not getting involved in your stupid gang disputes,” I replied, cutting off that avenue right away. “If I’m going to be dealing with that, I might as well just kill everyone here, kill Zvawr, and take what I want.” Raav bristled at my words, but it was Taaznay who replied.
“That’s not an answer,” he said. This could go on all night, I grumbled, I need to sleep, I can feel the lack of rest from last night catching up with me.
“Just let her take a few swings and I’ll show you,” I sighed. Raav’s eyes narrowed and she reached for the macuahuitl weapon on her waist.
“He said I could,” she told Taaznay, who shrugged.
“No killing,” he commanded.
“I wasn’t planning to kill her,” I said
“It wasn’t you that I was talking to,” Taaznay replied. Raav didn’t even wait for some kind of signal before running at me, weapon raised, and taking a swing. She tried to feint, initially looking like she was going to do a vertical chop but then shifting to horizontal at the last second, but her footwork gave her away. Not that it mattered anyway, because she was so slow I didn’t even need to use magic to detect when her weapon was close enough to grab telekinetically. The look on Raav’s face when she realized that her strike didn't even reach my skin was so amusing that I almost smiled.
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“If this were a serious fight, you’d already be dead,” I told her. Before she could reply, I planted my feet and jammed both of my fists into her abdomen in a vicious double uppercut, crushing her lower ribs and lifting her off the ground from the force of the impact. As the bones in my wrists and forearms strained and fractured, my opponent flew into the ceiling and broke several of the boards above us before flopping limply onto the ground, gasping for air and bleeding from the mouth. The macuahuitl, which I was still holding in place with magic, floated into my right hand.
I expected one or two of the other people in the room to try to jump in, but everyone exceeded my expectations of their intelligence and stayed in position. Zhoyl had a hard look on his face, Taaznay was smiling, and when I looked over at Shayng his eyes were so wide that they were nearly popping from his skull. Raav continued to cough and struggle to recover from being winded for another few seconds, then got to one knee and glared at me. It was then that I noticed that the impact had also popped the blood vessels in her left eye and knocked her nose out of place.
“You’re a kehpveht,” she coughed. “There aren’t supposed to be any of you in here.” I didn’t correct her misunderstanding since it was advantageous to me.
“Are you satisfied?” I asked, suppressing a sudden urge to yawn.
“Yeah,” she grunted. “Gimme that back, not like you need it.” I handed her the macuahuitl, and she took it from my grip, snapping her nose back to its original position with her left hand and snorting out blood as she did so. “Could’ve just told me,” she muttered as she slunk back to her previous spot.
“Shayng, you should consider yourself a very lucky man,” Taaznay finally said, his amusement at the situation clear in his voice. “And you, Yaet, I’ve got a bed for you tonight, on me. We can discuss the rest of this deal tomorrow. It’s plain to see you’re half asleep on your feet.” As much as I didn’t trust him, the prospect of a bed was too tempting to ignore, so I nodded in agreement.
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...
“Ninety-two points. Identify main subject of image.”
“Adult jaguar, feeding on prey animal carcass. Subject is partially obscured by nearby flora. Carcass appears to be of a capybara.”
“Eighty-one points. Identify main subject of image.”
“Human female, deceased, cause of death was massive brain damage from point-blank gunshot to the forehead, as evidenced by powder burns around the wound. Subject has been placed on an examination table and drained of blood.”
“Eighty-seven points. Identify main subject of image.”
“Human infant, sex unknown, ethnicity unknown. Lack of significant skin melanin suggests northern European descent. Subject’s lower half is obscured by white fabric wrapping and arms of a second human.”
“Seventy-nine points. Identify main subject of image.”
“Winchester model 1873 level action repeating rifle in pristine condition. Subject has been placed on a wooden tabletop.”
“Ninety-nine points. Identify main subject of image.”
...
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My eyes snapped open to an unfamiliar roof, then threatened to close again right away as they realized how tired I still was. I had been having a dream that I couldn’t quite remember, except for a section that was from some of my earliest training. If I had a sense of time during those tests I probably would have gone insane, I groaned quietly. The notion was strange, considering that I was likely not capable of anything but sanity until I was put into a human brain. More fatigue built up in me, clearing my mind of the useless line of thought. After a brief struggle, I gave in, rolling over and drawing the thin blanket atop myself once more.
Sometime later I woke up again, and the light that was spilling in between the cracks of the window shutters told me it was much later in the morning. With a groan, I rolled out of bed and got to my feet, shaking off the lethargy of deep sleep. I had been allowed to stay in Shayng’s quarters while their owner was being punished for his stupidity, and while they were decent the bed was far too soft and a bit too short for me. There was a container of dried fruit last night, right? I wondered blearily, rifling through the cupboard until I found the container in question. Good, I thought as I began stuffing them in my mouth, I probably have half an hour before someone comes to get me, so this should help me wake up.
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When noon finally came I heard a knock on my door and didn’t even have the time to reply before one of the spearmen from the previous night’s meeting let himself in. Good thing I didn’t decide to practice magic at all, I huffed, I need some time to work out what’s different now, but it might have to wait until Awrehrehzha.
“Boss is ready for you,” the man said, scratching the short-cut sides of his hair. Why leave it long on top but shave the sides? I wondered as his action drew attention to his head.
“Alright,” I nodded, and I allowed myself to be led outside. Shayng’s quarters were in a four-man joined cabin that was just a hundred meters or so from the main headquarters, so we didn’t have to walk very far to get to our destination. As we did, I saw some of the gang members muttering to each other and sighed. It’s only going to be worse once I leave the prison, assuming people out there know what I look like, I reminded myself. Fame was anathema to subtlety, and it seemed that my abilities were bringing it to me whether I liked it or not.
“Inside,” the man directed, and I followed his order, hearing the door close behind me and walking back into the smoky conference room.
“This place needs better ventilation,” I commented as I saw the main three leaders seated around a table with an open chair for me.
“We like it like this,” Raav grunted as I sat down. “It’s atmospheric.”
“And it hides how bad it smells when you get twenty men in here with about a bath and a half between them per week,” Taaznay grumbled. “So, ‘Yaet’, did you enjoy your rest?”
“Let’s just skip the pleasantries,” I suggested. “What’s the offer?”
“Food is coming in a few minutes,” Zhoyl informed everyone. I wasn’t full from the snack I had, so it was welcome news.
“How new are you here?” Taaznay asked. “I haven’t heard if you before yesterday, so you can’t have been here more than a few days.”
“Six days,” I lied.
“And how in Rehv’s name did you manage to get yourself locked up in here and not somewhere more secure?” Zhoyl asked.
“They didn’t know I was a kehpveht, or rather a foreign equivalent,” I continued to lie.
“Yet, you must have done something to make them think you needed to be put in with the followers,” Taaznay noted. “Something to piss off those shahpeymoyt filth that run our city now.” His words confirmed a suspicion I had about the state of Awrehrehzha, but they also demanded an answer. I guess I can improvise something, I thought.
“I came to this country to steal rifle technology for Yahn Gwah,” I began, spinning a probable tale. “When they caught me trying to smuggle one of the weapons out I was apprehended, but they didn’t seem to realize I was trained in combat magic. Once I realized their mistake, I cooperated with the guards in order to be put into a lower-security area. I believe they thought your people would kill me, so they threw me in here.”
“What does Yahn Gwah want with those damnable weapons?” Raav demanded.
“We are developing armor that can resist them,” I lied. “Some time ago, samples of black powder began appearing in Yahn Gwah, smuggled in by Uwrish criminals. As far as we know no forge in the country has yet produced a workable rifle, but it is only a matter of time. My employers need a working weapon so that they can test their new armor designs and begin reproducing the ones that work, to avoid a breakdown in social order once the weapons become widespread. To that end, they sent me here.”
“You don’t work for Yahn Gwah, do you?” Zhoyl asked, and though I didn’t react physically I was immediately ready to begin killing, spine tingling with energy. “You work for Sihz Gwah,” he continued after a short delay. “The Yahn would want to make more of the rifles, not to mention they wouldn’t be nearly as paranoid about a ‘breakdown in social order’. If anything, a Yahn house would relish the opportunity to take advantage of the chaos. You need to be less obvious, we’re not ignorant in here, some of us used to be nobility.” Smiling to falsely admit defeat, I exhaled through my nose, then inhaled deeply.
“You are correct,” I sighed. “Sorry for lying, but I’m under orders to say that I’m working for the Yahn. You understand, right?”
“A seytoydh spy,” Taaznay chortled. “I guess this next bit will be easy for you then. There’s a fight club we host around here every twelve days or so. The next event is in five days. I want you to join it.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Money,” Taaznay explained. “Lots of betting goes on during those events. It’s not huge amounts of money, mind you, but the volume is quite large and most of it is in assets, not currency. Usually, it’s just a way to have a skirmish without having a skirmish, if you know what I mean. Everybody bets on their own boys, a few independents enter to try to win big, the crowd picks whoever they like, and the stronger gangs end up with more at the end of the day. Simple stuff.”
“The implication being that if you bet on the right independent fighter it’s possible to make a lot of money,” I continued for him. “You realize this plan will become very obvious very quickly, right?”
“If you just beat everyone in a single strike, sure,” Taaznay agreed. “That’s not what I want. I want you to join and I want you to either throw or win fights on my command, under the conditions that I set.” Winning fights won’t be a problem, but throwing them might be, I thought.
“The idea of intentionally losing a fight doesn’t sit well with me,” I said. “Tell me again why I should do this. Am I not already doing enough for you by setting the guards against your enemy during my future escape?”
“To put it bluntly Yaet, I don’t trust a seytoydh thing coming out of your mouth about that,” Taaznay replied. “You could just as easily seyt us over by implicating us, or rat us out to Zhahleysay, or any number of other things. If you get caught and tortured and you mention us, it’s going to be a serious problem. In fact, the gang is going to be laying low for a few weeks after you leave, just in case. If you do what you say you’re going to do, great, but I can’t base the value of this exchange on that when I have no way of enforcing it.”
“Hm,” I grunted. What he’s saying makes sense, I thought, it’s just inconvenient for me. “And if I decide to simply take the ticket by force?”
“If you fight your way out of here and we don’t check in with our man holding the ticket, he’ll destroy it,” Taaznay smiled. I should have guessed as much, I sighed, it’ll get someone banned from working, but it’s only one person. Neither of us thinks this is coming to blows anyway, not at this point, the check-in is just insurance.
“What constitutes ‘throwing’ a fight, exactly?” I asked.
“Generally a fight can end either when one fighter is unconscious, surrenders, or is rendered physically unable to fight by the removal of a limb,” Zhoyl said.
“I will not throw a fight by allowing myself to be knocked unconscious,” I said flatly. “I can fake it if needed, but the real thing is off the table.”
“Funny that you’d go to that and not the limbs,” Raav snorted. “Somebody has a high opinion of themselves.”
“So you’ll do it on that condition?” Taaznay asked.
“We need to discuss more details, but generally yes,” I answered. “Just so you know though, if your thought is to tire me out with fights and then somehow renege on your end of the deal it will not go well for you.”
“I know better than to push a kehpveht too far,” Taaznay assured me. “I was never a frontline soldier but I’ve seen what people like you can do at many points in my life. It’s what led me to Rehv, though it seems he had other plans for me. Believe me when I say that I’d prefer to survive until the shahpeymoytz get what’s coming to them, not die painfully at your hands. You do this, we’re even. Actually, I do want you to do one more thing as well.”
“What?” I asked.
“Bring a translated book of Rehv back to your country with you,” Taaznay said. “You’re going to have to go west to Mehzowrow if you don’t want to be arrested again, so you’ll end up in our territory eventually. Towrkah, Duwbkaav, and Owsahlk will all be safe for you as far as I know. The temples might give you shit on approach for being a foreigner but if you explain that you just want a translated book they’ll give you one. It has the original Holy Inscription with translations below on each page.”
“I can do that, but why?” I asked.
“If the shahpeymoytz get what they want every copy of the book is going to be burned and everyone who has ever read it is going to die without passing it on,” Taaznay snarled. “It can’t die here with us. It might be… improper to suggest that Rehv would let us perish, but if we truly are unworthy of him I want someone else to have the chance to be better. Just preserve it so that anyone who wants to read it can read it.” The mood had turned somber all of a sudden, and all three of the gang leaders looked upset.
“Fine,” I agreed. “If it means that much to you.”
“Good,” Taaznay sighed. “Good. Now, after we eat would you be willing to go do some practice with Raav? We can run you through the rules of how the fight club works.”
“I was going to request the same thing,” I said, looking back to see some men walking in with water and trays of meat. “Let’s eat first though, I’m quite hungry.”
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“In the fights we want you to use as little magic as possible,” Zhoyl said as Raav and I stood opposite each other in the smoky room. I had hoped that we would be able to do the practice fights outside, but there was no way to keep anyone from observing the combat if we did and Taaznay wanted to keep his plans as secret as possible from the other gangs. “To that end, we need to know how well you can cope with such a fighting style. Not to be insulting, but without magic, many kehpveht fighting styles are virtually worthless.”
“And why is she using her… sword?” I asked, gesturing to the macuahuitl.
“Because we can game the odds further if you’re less armed compared to your opponents,” Raav smiled malevolently. “Don’t worry, I’m definitely not pissed off from coughing up dried blood for hours last night, so I’ll make sure all your parts are still attached.” She rotated her right hand, spinning the weapon in a vertical arc.
“You can use magic,” Taaznay said, leaning against the far wall. “We’ll just be watching and if we notice that it’s too much, we’ll stop the fight and call it out. That goes for Raav too, we don’t want anyone fighting you to catch on to the fact that you could tear them to bits barehanded. If she thinks you’ve used magic, she’ll tell us. We want you to come off like an inexperienced foreigner, not someone with training.”
“Fine, let’s just get on with it,” I sighed. This is just sparring with Vaozey all over again, I grumbled, looking at the woman, No, actually, she’s not half as crazy as Vaozey.
“For now, just try to keep up with her,” Zhoyl instructed.
“Think fast!” Raav yelled, running at me with the weapon overhead. Since the blades only extended about a centimeter past the wooden frame of the weapon, I just raised both hands and caught it in midair, then twisted my hips to launch its wielder past me onto the ground. By the time Raav was back on her feet, my palms had already healed back together. “Oh come on,” she protested, gesturing to Zhoyl.
“Didn’t look like magic to me,” he shrugged, which only further annoyed her.
“It wasn’t,” I confirmed, handing her the weapon back. “I also have one more thing I want as part of this deal.”
“What?” Taaznay asked.
“I want a room with a lock on the inside,” I said, wiping my hands on my shirt. “Also, if I want something like a block of wood, some water, a knife, or anything that is reasonably easy to acquire here, you need to get it for me.”
“We don’t have locks but we can get you one with a door you can bar,” Taaznay counter-offered. “Any particular reason why? We’ll break even either way on this so I’m fine with it, but I’m just curious.”
“I like my privacy,” I replied. And if I’m going to be stuck here for a few more days, I might as well use that time for magic practice, I added, though only in my mind.