by TR Cameron
“Defender?”
He gestured at her hand. “The name of the Leblanc family sword is Defender.” He used her moment of distraction to advance in a smooth glide that brought him into range. He slashed abruptly and she met it with a high block. Her foe disengaged and circled his weapon for a straight thrust, and she twisted to the side to avoid it instead of meeting his force with her own. She skipped in and delivered a sidekick to his ribs while she held her blade interposed to prevent him from cutting her. He made a loud huffing noise and she thunked her hilt down on his hand to knock his sword free.
Cali kicked the pommel and the weapon spun away. Unfortunately, it scraped directly toward his partner, who lifted a boot and stamped at the perfect moment to stop it. She stooped, picked the sword up, and twirled one in each hand like it was her preferred style of fighting.
With a sigh, the girl asked, “Do we honestly need to continue this? I’m not ambitious and I am the head of the house. Can’t we simply…you know, agree to work together?”
The other woman raised an elegantly sculpted eyebrow. During the pause, Cali took stock of her foe. There were some wrinkles but not that many. She looks more like fifty than three hundred and fifty or so. Her straight red hair, a shade darker than Cali’s, was bluntly cut at the level of her chin. Her cheekbones were sharp and perfect, which inspired envy. She spun the swords as if the weight didn’t bother her at all, while the younger woman’s arms were already aching. “Sure we can. After you’ve proven you’re worthy of more than donating your magic to Defender’s reservoir.”
“It wasn’t exactly the answer I was hoping for.” She set her feet into a back stance and raised her blade to guard position. Fortunately, she and Ikehara had done some training with two blades against one. She would unquestionably have to up her game before she fought the Malniets, though, since they’d no doubt bring the best of the best.
The other woman shrugged and attacked. Cali twisted away and the man stood at the side, his arms folded and a grin on his face. He resembled his partner, she suddenly realized, enough that they were probably parent and child. Either he was older or had gone prematurely grey, as his short-cropped hair was all the shade of light ash.
Her evasion dealt with the first cut, but the second sword lashed at her back.
She raised her blade and stabbed it along her spine to catch the incoming blow with a resounding clang. When she kicked back, she caught only air and dove forward to avoid whatever the other woman was doing. The swords whistled through the space behind her and she came up running. Sensing her adversary’s close pursuit, she feigned a hitch in her leg and leaned to that side, then used the motion to make a fast twist. Her sword arced along a horizontal plane at neck height.
The older matriarch caught it between both her blades and yanked it down and reflex took over. Cali released the weapon and launched a jump kick while her foe’s guard was down. Her foot snapped into the woman’s chest and thrust her back. The girl stayed close so the swords couldn’t intervene and launched punch combos to her enemy’s midsection, followed by an uppercut to her jaw. Her opponent landed hard on her back and the weapons fell out of her hands. She raised her arms to cover her face and shouted, “You wouldn’t hit an old lady, would you?”
The younger woman stared at her incredulously, and both her adversaries began to laugh. The man approached and she gathered the swords and moved to a safe distance. He ignored her and helped his partner to stand.
They both turned to regard her with smiles before he said, “Well done, Matriarch Caliste. You have earned the right to wield Defender.”
She tilted her head to the side, confused. “But I didn’t defeat you with my sword.”
The other woman shrugged. “That wasn’t the point. We don’t care about skill but what’s in your heart. On behalf of the others, we have recognized you as one who shares our principles.”
“You can tell that by how I fought?”
The man gestured toward her. “Everything you need to know about a person is there to be discovered by watching them fight.”
Cali’s confusion seemed to only increase and it was time to put a stop to it. “So we’re done?” They nodded as one. “Okay, then, how do I get home?” The woman waved a hand and the forces that had brought her there began to gather around her. Suddenly, something they said penetrated her brain. “Wait, there are others?”
A whooshing sound was her only reply.
The girl opened her eyes and sighed at the sight of Nylotte’s basement. The surrounding shields fell and Fyre was instantly at her side and rested his always shockingly soft scales against her bare arm. The sword lay across her legs but felt different than it had. Like it now belonged to her as opposed to something she simply wielded because it was in her hand. She looked up as the Drow sat opposite her. “You might have warned me.”
Her teacher chuckled. “Of what? I had no idea what to expect. You’re the first student I’ve ever had who’s also the matriarch of a noble house that possesses an heirloom sword. I have considerable knowledge but I don’t know everything.”
Cali shook her head. “Uh-uh. You won’t get out of this that easily. Surely you’re aware of how other people with sentient swords have interacted with them. You could have maybe mentioned the whole fighting for credibility thing.”
The Drow’s expression turned inquisitive. “For credibility, you say? Usually, it’s for dominance.”
“Ah-ha,” she almost shouted. “You did know and you said nothing.”
Nylotte flashed her a wide grin. “I could never steal the joy of self-discovery from one of my students. So, what’s the sword’s name?”
“Who says it has a name?” She hoped she sounded less petulant than she thought she did.
The Dark Elf rolled her eyes. “Of course it has a name. All of them do. Cara’s daggers are Angel and Demon. Diana’s sword is Fury. I’ve never come across a sentient weapon without a name.”
“So you’ve been around others?” Her teacher nodded. “And you still didn’t tell me? You suck.”
The woman raised an eyebrow. “So I’ve been told. Will you keep the name secret like some kind of whiny child?”
Maybe I will. Fyre snorted and Cali sighed. “No. I won’t keep the name secret. It’s Defender.”
The reply was sarcastically condescending. “How noble.” But the emotional distance between them faded as her mentor smiled again and she sensed the concerned goodwill in her tone. “Now, we need to discover how it can best serve you by trying everything I’ve ever heard about a magic sword and what it’s able to do.”
Cali fell back on the stone floor of the basement with a groan. “You mean we need to do that after I’ve had a nap, and food, and maybe a good night’s rest, right?”
The words she’d feared were imminent were tinted with the Drow’s typical wry humor. “There’s no time like the present. Quit complaining and get up, Matriarch.”
Fyre’s laughter filled her mind, and she levered herself to a seated position with a groan. “You’ll pay for this. Both of you. A horrible, horrible price.” The fact that the Draksa’s mirth only increased told her the threat, as hers most often did, failed to worry its recipients in any way whatsoever. I really need to get better at that.
Chapter Three
Ozahl stepped through the portal onto the docks of New Atlantis and looked around in satisfaction. “It’s been too long since I was here for any useful length of time and far too long since we were here together.”
Danna Cudon took his hand and squeezed it. “But soon, we’ll be able to do what we want, when we want, and where we want. Including New Atlantis.”
He glanced at the love of his life and nodded with a smile. She’d dressed down for the occasion and had traded in her normal suit and tie for a simple pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. Her typical slicked-back hairstyle had been replaced by one that allowed the straight locks to fall where they would, and it was dyed strawberry blonde to hide her recognizable ebony hue. T
o him, she looked amazing, as always. To those around them, she would be merely a face in the crowd, which was the point of her choices.
His transformation had been even easier. He’d cast an illusion to alter his features into an imitation of a businessman tourist he’d once seen. Below that, he’d used makeup and hair dye to alter his true appearance in case anyone penetrated the magic. His clothes matched hers. They had no doubt that the man they intended to visit would identify them quickly—you didn’t play games with patriarchs and matriarchs without assuming they would use all the resources they had to hand. But the rest of the city could stay ignorant of their identities.
For now, until we return as the leaders of a new noble house. They hadn’t decided yet who would take the titular role and be burdened with political duties. Playful arguments generally devolved into denials of any desire to do the job. Despite that, he knew she was as ready for it and as eager to do it as he was. He shrugged mentally. We might have to flip a coin in the end.
Ultimately, which of them led wouldn’t matter. Claiming one of the nine noble houses was the only thing that did. Well, and surviving to enjoy it. That’s why they now visited the underwater city. Their primary route to becoming New Atlantean nobility required Caliste Leblanc to defeat House Malniet and leave a power vacuum in her wake, as she had no family ready to step in and take the vacant place.
The mage shook his head to banish the thoughts and returned his companion’s hand squeeze. “Right you are, my love. Now, it’s time to make a patriarch unhappy.”
Danna released her grasp and produced a coin for one of the runners who were always available on the docks, young folk from the surrounding settlements who would never be able to afford to live in the domed city, no matter how many menial tasks they performed. He had been like them once, as had she. They’d both known they were destined for more and when they’d found each other, they had decided that together, they could rise very high indeed. He followed, and they climbed the stairs side by side.
“So, should we stop for food?” she asked. “Some light shopping?”
Ozahl chuckled. “You paid that girl to tell the patriarch we’d be coming immediately.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like he’ll see us immediately. And if he does have to wait, anger can be a useful lever.”
He shook his head. “We need to keep our eyes on the prize here and you know it.” Her grin told him she did. “You’re only screwing with me.”
Her laugh held no worry. One of the things he most loved about his partner was her capacity to truly live in the present. Others might be concerned about the events they were about to set into motion, ones that bore the very real danger of having a price placed on both of their heads. Because Styrris Malniet never does his dirty work. But not Danna. She had the ability to flow from moment to moment without any baggage at all when she chose to, and he envied that skill. She nodded. “Of course. You can’t be serious all the time, love. It’s not good for you.”
“Maybe now is an appropriate juncture for seriousness? Given the gravity of the situation?”
She shook her head. “This is when it’s least useful. I think you need a drink before we do this. I know I do. Let’s get a move on since we wouldn’t want to keep dear Styrris waiting for too long.”
They’d stopped for a single glass of liquid courage at a bar that was along their path to the Malniet mansion. Thereafter, they took the first ring road on their route to reach the appropriate spoke heading toward the center. Taking the circle that ran around the palace would have been more efficient but would also have made them very visible to many more noble eyes, something that wasn’t to their benefit at the current moment.
Danna clearly thought along the same lines because she broke several minutes of silence by observing, “Soon, they’ll all know who we are and will condescend to us at their own risk.”
He nodded. “Soon. But not yet, unfortunately.”
Discussing plans wasn’t necessary as they were both very clear on their objective and the possible ways to reach it. When they talked, it was therefore of insignificant things—this piece of architecture, that piece of greenery, and the kind of parties they might host when they were part of the city’s upper crust. The comfortable conversation kept them occupied until the moment when they arrived at the front gate of the tall metal fence that bounded the Malniet property. It was closed and two guards stood inside.
Danna nodded briskly at each of them. “We have an appointment with the patriarch.”
The one on the left made a show of scrutinizing them lazily. “That seems unlikely,” he drawled.
“Nonetheless, we do,” Ozahl replied.
The other guard responded with a frown. “Come back when you’re appropriately dressed for an audience.”
Danna laughed. “An audience, is it? It sounds like someone thinks they’re a monarch, rather than merely one of nine nobles.”
The property’s defenders bristled at that and perhaps even considered emerging from the safety of their metal enclosure, but the situation was saved by the appearance of a servant in formal attire. “You are welcome at the Malniet estate, Ozahl and Danna,” he intoned. “Your runner described you both quite well.” To the guards, he snapped, “Open the gate.”
They leapt to obey, all traces of condescension replaced by fear. Apparently, the majordomo or whoever this is wields a fair amount of power. That’s good to know. The man introduced himself. “I am Charles. Please come this way.” He turned to lead them into the house. As they walked, Ozahl noted the unusual thinness of their escort, a look he’d formerly only associated with addicts and the poor. This person was unlikely to be the latter, but if he was the former, it presented…possibilities. He filed the information away at the back of his mind as they entered the mansion.
The entryway was opulent, with staircases that led up on both sides to a second level and a hallway that stretched down the center of the space. The servant led them down it and they passed numerous closed doors before they emerged into a sizeable living room. It was equivalent to half his apartment and held three couches, a love seat, several tables, bookshelves, and a large cabinet filled with alcohol and beautiful glasses for serving it.
On one of the couches, clad in a business suit that would likely make Danna jealous of its fine quality, was the man himself with a book open on his crossed legs. Styrris Malniet was the perfect example of what a wealthy zombie might look like—tall, thin, and with protruding cheekbones under short dark hair. On the rare occasions when he’d seen the patriarch before, the man had worn a longer style. One could read anxiety into the new choice but that would be assuming a little too much. Styrris was an individual who knew well how to manipulate others, and such slight touches would be a part of his repertoire. Exactly as they are of mine.
He looked up at their arrival but did not deign to rise. His voice was low and rough. “Your messenger said you had information for me that would be, and I quote, ‘vital for the survival of my house.’ If I find you are wasting my time, I will see you both destroyed for your impertinence.”
Ozahl bared his teeth in a false smile and forced his natural aggressive response down in favor of a measured reply. “Of course, Patriarch, we would never seek to waste your time. The information we bring is indeed vital, both to the survival of your house and your person.”
His host raised an eyebrow. “One could interpret that as a threat.”
Danna shook her head. “That is certainly not how it’s intended, Patriarch. We have no desire to threaten you, only to share what we know as well as an opportunity.”
Styrris sighed, closed his book, and placed it on the couch beside him. “I’ll give you five minutes.”
They’d decided Ozahl should be the primary speaker and predicted that the patriarch would respond better to a man, given that his current nemesis was a woman. “Then we’ll be brief,” The mage said. “You have a problem and her name is Caliste Leblanc. Doubtless, you think you have her under
control, but many others thought the same, only to discover their error too late to save themselves. We would hate to see you make the same mistake.”
The patriarch snorted softly. “The girl is nothing. A nuisance.”
He smiled. “As the others before you believed. And yet, she has won every battle she has fought, most recently against a superior force you sent to kill her. Outside the rules of ritual combat, I might add.”
“The girl has already invalidated those rules by making an alternate proposal.”
“So I’ve heard.” He nodded. “I’ve also heard you haven’t accepted. Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that she is resourceful beyond all expectations. However, we know a time when she will be vulnerable, which would give us an opportunity to remove this problem for you.”
“The Atlanteans on the surface have a final combat to resolve with the girl,” Danna explained. “We, too, would love to see her dealt with outside the rules to avoid any risk of her victory. But since that would also serve your needs, it’s only appropriate that you should share in the cost of such a thing.”
“And so we’ve come to make you the offer,” Ozahl added. “Our part is finishing the girl. Your part is giving us the resources we need to do it and a particular reward thereafter.”
The Malniet patriarch rolled his eyes, but his body language suggested he was interested. The mage’s constant use of illusion had taught him to recognize such signals. Unfortunately, the other man didn’t display enough of them to suggest he was sold on the idea. “So, for the sake of conversation, what reward are you seeking?”
This was it. This was the moment. His mouth was suddenly dry and he had to force the words out. “House Cormier.”
The older man laughed. “What?”
Danna folded her arms and fixed her gaze on Styrris. “You heard him. When you wed Matriarch Cormier, you will gain control of that House. In order to save your own, you grant it to us, free and clear of any obligation.”
