by Eric Ugland
“Yes,” I said, triumphantly.
“Were they being served?”
“Only after they’d been caught.”
“I feel as if I have misplaced my trust in you.”
“Look, bub, you want to stay with me? Get small, get in my pocket. You want to try to make it in the wilds? I’ll toss you over the wall and you can see if the night goblins want to learn etiquette.”
The book trembled for a second, then zipped into pocket size. I scooped him off the balustrade, brushed the snow off, and slipped him inside my pocket.
Which was right around the time that Nathalie, at the head of what seemed like a hundred guards, burst into the ballroom, pushed everyone out of the way and stormed onto the balcony.
“Your grace,” she said, shock evident in her voice as she surveyed the surrounding damage. “Are you well?”
“You know, the note said to be discrete,” I said with a sigh.
The ball-goers had all crowded against the windows, peering out.
I saw a young woman vomit onto her dance partner at the sight of the headless corpse. Or maybe the sight of the faceless corpse. Or just the dead bodies in general. Or maybe all the blood. Actually, the answer is probably D) All of the Above.
Naturally, as soon as one person vomited, the puke train left the station, and in mere moments it was nearly as gross inside as outside, though with less death. Which, you know, impressive end for the night.
The older guests at the party started shuttling the younger guests out, leaving the mess behind for the mystery cleaning crew.
Eliza came to the door, pushing through the guards until they recognized her and let her go.
“What happened?” she asked, stepping carefully to stay in the few spots of virgin snow.
“Uninvited guests,” I said.
“Assassins,” Nathalie said, kneeling at the masked body of Tall Man. She had her hand on the mask.
“Hold up,” I said, “you don’t want to remove the mask.”
I pointed to the other mask, and also the missing face.
“It takes some skin with it,” I said.
One guard burped, and excused himself.
Eliza bit her lip and looked to the sky. Then she put her hand on her mouth and promptly moved through the ballroom at speed.
A moment later, Nikolai pushed his way through the guards, smacking and muttering at them.
“What is all this mess?” he said, his face contorted against the putrid smells.
“In there, it’s mostly vomit,” I said. “But out here, it’s mostly blood.”
Nikolai grunted, but otherwise seemed unconcerned but what he saw.
“You were attacked?” he asked.
I nodded. “Four opponents. All wore black, can’t take their masks off without their faces going with it.”
“Morðingi masks. They require an antidote to be removed.”
“One we probably don’t have.”
“It is usually something specially made for each wearing,” Nikolai said, crouching at one of the corpses. “Pity none are alive.”
“I tried.”
Nikolai just nodded. He started patting the bodies down, taking out what he found and setting it to the side. More knives, a throwing star, some very thin rope. He found something strange and mechanical looking that unfolded into a complex grappling hook.
“I can say that they didn’t speak Imperial,” I said. “Something called Koäðemarrian.”
“Oh?” Nikolai asked, an eyebrow going up. “Now that is surprising.”
“Why would they be interested?” Nathalie said.
“Who are they?” I asked.
“I think it’s very possible these were just a group of killers hired for the specific purpose of killing you, your grace,” Nikolai said. “If we assume the language those men used is the language of their home country, I find it quite improbable that that government sent these men here.”
“Where is this country of theirs?” I asked.
“Far to the south and west,” Nikolai said. “Across the ocean a ways and well below Carchedon. Koäðemaar is a group of islands off the coast of The Glowing Lands.”
“Too far to be involved here,” Nathalie said.
“Too small to be involved here,” Nikolai said. “But their assassins often come highly recommended.”
“By who?” I asked.
“Those who traffic in such dark markets, your grace. Koäðemaar is a strange nation, bordered by an ever-present storm. The nation supposedly exists in a state of perpetual peace and perpetual strife. No open conflict is allowed under their rulers, though the noble houses fight shadow wars to exert control. So, it is said if you desire some of the best at fighting who will remain unseen, hire the Koäðemaarian. But I would imagine most of that is merely good marketing.”
“Clearly,” I said. “Four versus one, and they failed.”
“You are not exactly a normal one,” Nathalie replied. “Still, where were your guards?”
“Dancing,” I said.
The minotaurs looked as ashamed as I’d ever seen them.
“But I told them to enjoy themselves,” I said. “If any blame is to be laid here, it’s to be at my feet.”
“Not exactly wise,” Nikolai said. “Considering the strangers currently within our midst.”
“It seemed safe, but yeah. Dumb. I messed up. Now what do we do?”
“I would have preferred a slightly less obvious response to this,” Nikolai said, looking pointedly at Nathalie.
“She was just—”
“I can defend my own actions, your grace,” Nathalie said. “I received word the duke was in trouble and I reacted how I, as the head of the guard in Coggeshall, felt appropriate.”
“Perhaps we need to establish certain protocols for our actions and reactions,” Nikolai said, pulling out his notebook and jotting a few things down quickly. “Council meeting tomorrow morning.”
I sighed, and thought about complaining, but it was probably for the best. Get everyone on the same page before Fiends’ Night.
“I think it best we all get on the same page prior to Fiends’ Night,” Nikolai said.
I squinted at him. Was he reading my mind?
“As to what to do right now, if you are injured, your grace, I would imagine it best to see yourself to the healers,” Nikolai said. “Nathalie, if you would prefer a different avenue, by all means take it, but I would like the opportunity to have these bodies examined, see if there is anything else we might learn about their identities.”
“Of course, chancellor,” she said. “I will also increase patrols around the duke’s stairwell and post guard on his balcony.”
“Can we check about missing persons?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Nikolai asked. “What have you heard?”
“Well, I heard this guy was supposed to be out here smooching some girl and he didn’t show—”
“Your grace, we—”
I put my hand up. “But that’s not what I’m interested in. If these four asshats came here with some group, don’t you think they’d be noticed as missing?”
Nathalie started nodding. “Yes. That is very true. They could not come in as guests without being noticed. I will look into it—”
“I have that,” Nikolai blurted. “I have been keeping track of newcomers, I will add this to our to-do.”
“Good,” I said. “And if you get bored, find out where this guy, uh, Edwin might be.”
“Is he the reluctant smoocher?” Nathalie asked with a smile.
“Yeah. Supposed to be out here meeting... shit. I didn’t get her name.”
“Might be challenging.”
“Can’t be that many Edwins here, can there?”
Nathalie shrugged.
“Your grace, I beg of you,” Nikolai said, “clean yourself up. Even to a battle-hardened veteran like myself, you are disgusting.”
I gave myself the quick once over and decided that Nikolai was actuall
y being kind. So I nodded, and headed upstairs.
46
It’s always nice returning home to find your room occupied.
This time, it wasn’t even Emeline. I had a new buddy joining the fun.
Darius was stringing up a hammock on the far side of my bedroom, directly over a box holding something covered with a heavy black quilt.
“What’s this?” I asked.
Darius turned around and paused mid-tie.
His eyes opened wide, blinked a few times, and then turned back to what he was doing.
“There has been some movement within the egg,” Darius said. “And I thought I should make sure it is closer to you in case it hatches.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Imprinting.”
“What’s that?”
“Do you know anything about animals?”
“Not really. I had a dog when I was really little, but no other pets. Unless, you know, you consider Ragnar a pet.”
“I do not.”
“It was a joke.”
“I’m aware.”
It was so nice to have a fun and warm new roommate. Not that I would have that with Darius.
“I’m going to take a shower now,” I said.
“Good,” Darius replied. “You need one.”
“Feel free to avail yourself of the facilities,” I said. “Shower’s pretty clutch.”
“Thank you,” Darius said, finishing up the hammock and giving it a test swing. Then, he crouched down near a box, pulled back a blanket a little and started whispering to the egg.
I nodded. Because, you know, totally normal behavior. Then I went and took a shower.
After a good wash with some of the rough and hearty soap made on the premises, and I felt good as new. Mostly. I felt tired. Could have been the after-effects of the poison, or just having gone through as much as I had in the past few days. I couldn’t quite remember when I’d slept last, but it probably wasn’t quite as long ago as I thought. Still, I had the feeling I was going to enjoy sleep.
Which made it so annoying to go into my bedroom and see Emeline stretched out in my bed, very much asleep and snoring. Her clothes were still on, and she was drooling.
“Drunk,” Darius said from his hammock, swaying ever so slightly.
“You need a blanket or anything?” I asked.
“You have extras?”
I nodded and went over to the dresser’s bottom drawer, where I kept extra blankets.
There was one blanket.
Did I give away my one blanket and spend the night on the floor with nothing to make myself comfortable?
Yes.
I walked over with the big blanket and laid it over Darius.
“Didn’t have to tuck me in,” the big minotaur said as I tucked the blanket around him.
“Perks of sleeping here,” I replied with a wink.
I made sure to go to the other side of the bed, where Darius couldn’t see that I had nothing, and I laid down. I had my towel on — I could, if need be, use that as a damp blanket, or fold it up and sleep naked on the stone floor. I’d certainly slept in worse conditions. I folded my arms under my head and stared at the ceiling.
Emeline snored particularly loudly, and I sighed in response. This was more in line with what I’d hoped for in this world. Sharing a room with friends, sometimes sleeping on the floor. Living in luxury seemed, well, foolish, all things considered.
Somewhere in thinking about rooms I’d shared over my life, I slipped into sleep.
47
I felt something crawling up my body.
My eyes popped open to see red glowing things on my chest.
I sat straight up, and my head connected with my suddenly open nightstand drawer.
There was a loud crack as the drawer exploded outward and pain exploded inward.
I groaned, and tried to see what was on my chest despite the ache in my head.
Nothing. But there was a book scuttling across the room.
Blood trickled into my eyes, and I swore softly, so as not to wake anyone. I stood and looked for the book.
Gone.
I clenched my fists.
“Where’s the etiquette in surprise night attacks,” I hissed.
“All is fair in love and war,” came the whispered return that seemed to just hang in the air.
“This better be love,” I hissed back. “You don’t want war with me!”
“Who are you talking to?” Darius asked sleepily.
“Talking in my sleep,” I replied. “Sorry.”
He grunted, but quickly went back to snoring.
Emeline didn’t wake up even a little.
I glanced around one more time, trying to find the damn book.
Nothing. It was still hiding.
I went and washed the blood off my face, pulled a few splinters out, and yanked on some clothes. I tied my knapsack to my waist and did a little quiet stretching.
I needed to go for a walk.
The minotaurs snapped to attention as I stepped out the door.
“Easy there,” I said.
They relaxed — not much, but a tiny bit.
Then they got in step with me, and I stopped.
“You two need to stay here,” I said.
“We are to guard you,” one said, confused.
“Emeline is a bigger target right now. Stay here, guard her.”
They frowned, but then one nodded, and they both stood back against the wall.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “I’m just going down to the smithy.”
MountainHome never fully seemed to shut down. But in the wee hours of the morning, there was a different pace to things. I could hear the clanks and hammering going on in the smithy, and there was a bright orange glow coming out from under the door.
I walked inside to see the night crew at work.
And Zoey, somehow, sitting on a stool with a large mug of something steaming, looking over drawings.
“Morning,” I said.
She looked over and frowned. She asked: “Your grace! Why are you here?”
“Partially because I couldn’t sleep,” I said, “and partially because I was thinking about something.”
“Is there something we might smith for you, your grace? Besides, of course, your full suit of plate in mithril?”
“More I was wondering what we had in terms of weapons capable of hurting fiends.”
She frowned, setting her mug down on the drawings.
“You are thinking of going to battle the devils?” she asked.
“I’m just trying to be prepared,” I said. “If something happens, I want to be able to fight back. Especially if I need to throw down to retrieve someone.”
“That might be important,” she said.
“Right?”
She sighed and got up, stretching.
“This way,” she said.
I followed her out of the smithy and down the hall to another heavy door with a big lock on it. Zoey pulled a massive key out of her pocket, and unlocked the door.
“The other armory,” she said, opening up the door.
“Other armory?”
“The main one is for the Guard and the Legion. This one is, well, not.”
Weapon racks went all the way from one end of the room to the other. It was a sizeable room, full of a lot of weapons.
“We have not had as much time to sort our collection as I would like,” she said, “so I cannot say, for certain, where celestial weapons might be. Or if we have any blessed weapons. It’s a bit of a mess in here. That said, have a look.”
She patted me on the back and dropped the key in my hand.
I looked over the weapons.
Then I sighed. No identification spell.
I leaned out the door.
“Can’t identify things,” I yelled.
“What?” she asked. “Why not?”
“Magic issues.”
“Even basic?”
“It could be, um, expl
osive to try.”
“For fuck’s sake, your grace,” she said, and sighed. “Can I do this a little later when I have more of my crew in?”
“Of course,” I said, taking one longing glance at the armory before leaving the room and returning the key to Zoey.
48
Since I was awake, I decided the best thing I could do was stay out of people’s way. I made a patrol of the deeper portions of the base. I knew the dwarves had been digging pretty far down, partially because they wanted to make a mine happen, but also, it seemed, because that was just their way. But most of that had stopped when we had to shift our resources to building a ton of Fiends’ Night housing. It might take quite a long time before they got back to digging.
Down and down I went, into the bowels of MountainHome, where the tunnels were no longer perfectly square and angular. These were rougher, almost exploratory.
I could hear things moving about. A quick drop into tremorsense, and I felt a horde of things moving.
I jumped around a corner, surprising a rat. The little rodent stood upright for a second, and then shot off the other way down the tunnel.
Following the rat just led me deeper into the maze, and while I could feel where the rats were, I couldn’t quite catch up to them.
Round and round I went, chasing rats and brushing off spider webs. I found a few barrels set out to collect dripping water, and something that was either mold or moss growing along a crack in one wall. Small clumps of mushrooms sprouted here and there, including quite a few that glowed. I remembered my scouting, and didn’t so much as breathe near any of the fungi.
After a few hours of chasing my proverbial tail, I decided there was nothing there. I’m not sure what I was expecting. Maybe I thought I’d discover The Master holed up at the end of a tunnel. That’d certainly be an easy end to all his nonsense. No such luck.
There were a few bones scattered around, but I couldn’t tell what they were from. They looked chewed up. My best guess was that the dwarves dropped food to keep the rats away from their dig sites.
I went upstairs, assuming I’d pissed away enough time.
Not the case — The sun was just starting to come up.
I went and got breakfast.
And drank coffee.
