“I can pay for help,” the strange girl had said, tears in her eyes. Her voice broke, “I just want to go home. I’m worried about my cat and—”
The sickening crunch echoed through the empty street as Yvadne’s club lashed out, solidly smashing the newcomer in the side of the head. The shiner fell like a stone, lying on the pavement with a surprised expression, tears still in the corners of her eyes, blood oozing from a nostril. Yvadne’s club had broken.
The strange girl’s eyes had been open, unseeing, and her body had started spasming with nerves. The scene had taken on a dream-like quality, like I was an observer. Like I wasn’t part of the world. I was usually the type of woman to react quickly to changes, but this situation had not struck me as real yet. I’d just been trying to understand what the girl had been saying, and now she was just...gone.
My reflection ended; the deluge of memories slowed to a trickle. I snapped back to reality, and back to the present. An uneasy feeling was growing in my heart, a premonition I had not felt for a long, long time. I sincerely hoped that it was just nerves, but the last time I’d felt this, my life had changed completely.
I’d been ten years old at the time.
Gaanal snarled, “Yvadne, you dumb cunt. Why did you do that? She’s dead now!” The Jackal girl’s dark, shoulder-length hair swished as she shook her head. “She was pretty, and I didn’t recognize her from another gang. Maybe she wanted to join! She wasn’t threatening us, and she had a club! Maybe she was a fighter without a group.”
I noticed that Yvadne’s pupils were dilated, maybe with adrenaline, but it was possible she had been using drugs again. Normally I didn’t judge. Bittertown was a people-swamp, and as long as my pack didn’t put the rest of us in danger, they could do what they wanted. At that moment, I began questioning my stance on the subject.
The auburn-haired killer bent down, first testing the body for a pulse, then picking up the fallen club. Yvadne swished the weapon through the air and tsked. She growled, “This club is shit. It has no force.” She threw the unfamiliar weapon to the side where it clattered on the cobblestones before coming to rest. “I didn’t mean to kill her. She just sounded dumb as rot with that, ‘Wah wah wah’ language she was using. None of you understood her, either. How could she join up if she couldn’t speak Luda?”
Not for the first time, I was struck by how stupid Yvadne could be. It seemed she hadn’t even paused to wonder why a strange girl in unfamiliar clothing would have been walking towards us in Bittertown, not speaking Luda.
“You’re going to bring the Guard down on our necks!” Gaanal hissed.
“Gaanal is right,” said Arren. “You really shouldn’t have killed her. That was a waste. Plenty of people probably saw it, too. These streets always have eyes.” When I heard that, I nodded, agreeing with my best friend.
Yvadne rolled her eyes. “Oh shut it, Arren. You’ll agree with Gaanal on anything.” Arren tried to school her expression, but I noticed her embarrassment. Arren’s crush apparently wasn’t a secret.
“We can claim self-defense,” Yvadne said. “This bitch had a weapon, and she walked right up to us. She was asking for it. The Guard don’t care about anyone dying in this part of the city anyway, not unless they have money. I doubt this normie had any money; she wasn’t wearing shoes.” Yvadne pointed at the dead girl’s bare feet as she bent down again, grabbing the box that she had been holding.
“What’s this?” she muttered as she opened the box. When the lid came up, I saw the Dolos orb. I’d never seen one before, but I immediately recognized what it had to be. A small note that had been in the box fluttered down to the street, and nobody moved at first.
Gaanal reached towards the box, almost in a trance. “Let me see that,” she said.
Yvadne jerked the box away, and it fell to the ground. Gaanal bent down, grabbing for it, but froze when a bronze blade materialized in her throat. I followed the weapon up the arm holding it to see Yvadne’s wild expression. She breathed heavily, staring down at Gaanal, then deliberately jerked her shiv out of her packmate’s neck and let her fall.
Gaanal eyes were wide as she managed to land on her side, staring up at Yvadne with dismayed, confused eyes. The blade had penetrated all the way through to exit out the back of her neck. Her hand on her throat didn’t stem the torrential flow of blood; the strike had been mortal. Gaanal’s dark eyes eventually darkened with betrayal and despair, her full lips moved soundlessly as she tried to speak, but the terrible wound prevented her from making anything but a croaking sound.
The fallen Dolos orb came to a stop in the growing puddle of blood. The piece of paper that had come with it was already submerged, ruined.
The three of us still standing knew that there would be no saving Gaanal. Gaanal knew it too, and after one last accusatory glare at Yvadne, the loyal Jackal closed her eyes and let oblivion take her. I felt shocked to my core, everything felt surreal, like I was drunk and high on several drugs at the same time. Once again, there was a still moment before Arren, breathing heavily, screamed and threw herself at Yvadne. “You killed Gaanal! Fake Jackal! Rotting traitor!”
Arren had acted before I was even past my shock yet, and in horror, I watched my friend’s wild swing hit nothing before she got stabbed once, twice, three times in the chest. Arren had never been a great fighter. Yvadne, on the other hand, was a born killer.
The beautiful woman stood over my fallen friend and my first reaction wasn’t rage or fear. Instead, I experienced a deep, aching sadness. The Jackals had been my second family. For over a decade, the rough but loyal group had included all my closest friends and greatest rivals. With very few exceptions, I loved all of them.
And in that moment, I knew it was all rotted. I wasn’t able to see Arren’s wounds, but I knew she was hurt badly to have fallen the way she had. Both as the leader of the Jackals, a friend, and a real woman, I knew what I had to do. I shied away from the dismay of what I’d just witnessed by embracing my duty. Life might be grey, but duty was black and white.
“Just you and me, huh, Nora?” Yvadne licked her lips nervously. She held her shiv in a practiced hand but faced me warily. I studied her face and noticed she was sweating, her eyes were not normal. There was definitely something wrong with her.
“You killed Arren,” I said simply. I let my club drop and drew my own shiv from my boot. The weapon was really nothing more than a bronze blade with two pieces of wood bolted on for a handle, but it was sharp and effective. For this fight, keeping my club would have been an advantage, but for something like this, I had to do it right; blade to blade.
Yvadne squared off with me cautiously, and for good reason. The beautiful woman had a dangerous reputation in the Jackals, but she’d never beaten me in a spar. In fact, after I’d turned fifteen, nobody had.
Not once.
Lisa Dalone might be a horrible person who had taken my innocence, but she was one of the most dangerous people in Bittertown. And when she’d taught me, I’d unexpectedly learned I had a talent for violence only rivaled by my head for languages. The irony was that I hadn’t really wanted to hurt anyone for most of my life. Whenever I fought earnestly, it was usually because I had to. Like now.
“Hey, Nora, we have the Dolos orb. How about we sell it and split it, fifty-fifty?” Yvadne’s knife twitched, and she’d begun slowly circling. I absently wondered if her offer was sincere. Probably not. She was more than likely just trying to distract me. The only reason she probably hadn’t tried running was that I was faster than she was, and she knew the moment she turned, my knife would be in her back.
“You should join up with me,” she said. “We need to move fast, though. I bet people are sending messages about the orb right now. I mean, it’s in the middle of the rotting street. Someone is always watching.”
“I don’t know what you were thinking, Yvadne,” I said, shaking my head. “You were always a crazy bitch, but this is a new level. What did you think would happen? Like you said, people are always
watching. Did you think you’d get away from the Jackals? You’re a dead woman, even if not by my hand.”
Yvadne laughed, the sound shrill. “The same goes for you, Nora! You think Lisa is going to ignore this chance to put you in the rotting ground? Not a chance. You’ll be the Claw that killed her pack. You know she can and will make that stick. Listen, Nora, I have some new friends, friends that I think would take me in and maybe you, too.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I have discovered religion, Nora.” Yvadne grinned, and in that moment I knew something was truly wrong with her, deeply wrong. Maybe something had been changing for a while, and I’d just been too blind to see it. This was not the same Yvadne I’d known a year before. “What has the Creator ever done for you, Nora? We get shit on our whole lives and still just die for people who don’t care about us. The dark gods give real gifts, Nora. Things you can see and touch. You should come with me!”
I shook my head, my sadness deepening. What was going on with my city, my world? I’d noticed strange things over the last couple years, but largely ignored them—one of my bad habits, I suppose. One thing Yvadne was right about was that people would be coming soon. I also knew she was right about the Jackals. I wouldn’t have been in danger if Lisa hadn’t been the second leader, but she was...and my fate was sealed.
I would figure everything out later. For now, Arren was hurt, and I needed to get her some help. Before I could do that, I needed to deal with Yvadne. She’d been in my pack for two years, though. I had to do this right.
“Yvadne, one of us will live, and one of us will die. This is a Jackals death duel.”
“So be it, Nora. I’ve always wondered if you were really as tough as everyone thinks. I guess with a real fight we can find out.” Yvadne grinned, but I noticed the edge to her expression. Maybe her offer to come with her had been sincere.
Dark gods? Betrayal? Rot that.
I closed with Yvadne. It was time to fight my former packmate to the death and hopefully save Arren. I didn’t want to think about how badly my best friend could be hurt, but I couldn’t do anything for her while Yvadne was still mobile. I absolutely didn’t trust the crazy redhead not to try finishing what she’d started. For her to do anything other than run away wouldn’t be rational, but I’d seen the madness in her eyes, now. There was also the Dolos orb, worth a fortune, and she obviously wanted it.
I rolled a shoulder and entered a special state of concentration—my floating time, I called it. The shiv in my hand felt like part of me as I nimbly stepped forward on the bloody cobblestones. I set my jaw and steeled my heart. Complaining about rotten situations didn’t make them go away. I’d learned that lesson at a young age.
Promises
Yvadne attacked first, which was unusual for her. Usually, she would wait for an opponent to make a mistake then strike lightning-fast, creating a lethal moment. I guess she decided to change things up because she was facing me—she knew I was quicker than she was, after all.
The auburn-haired woman threw a fist at my nose, but I leaned my forehead into the strike, letting her hand hit the top of my head. Just like I’d expected, she’d been shuffling in to stab with her weapon hand. I pivoted, dodging the strike. The arm of her punching hand was a handy target, but she’d be prepared for a slash there, so I went for a lethal counterattack. Yvadne dodged my thrust and backed away. I’d been hoping she’d be crazy enough to grab my hair, but I wasn’t that lucky. The madwoman had stayed rational enough to keep her hand. Damn.
We circled for a few seconds after that, and Yvadne didn’t try to talk to me anymore. That suited me just fine, but I could feel the seconds ticking by. Arren was hurt. I couldn’t let this fight drag out.
I’d never been very good at acting, but Yvadne had never been very good at not being crazy. When I pretended to stumble on the edge of a flagstone, she took the bait.
Just like I’d expected, the beautiful killer darted in, her knife going for a killing strike to my heart while her other hand darted out to secure my knife hand. If I’d actually stumbled, the attack would have been extremely effective. Instead, I dodged the strike and twisted my weapon arm, circling my hand, and deeply gashing Yvadne’s forearm.
She fell back, hissing, and I noted the way the blood began falling from her free hand—good cut. Her hand looked limp, but I was wary. Yvadne was a tricky bitch and could be faking tendon damage.
Normally in a knife fight, both fighters should expect to get cut. It’s a good rule of thumb that shiv to shiv, the fight will be nasty and even the winner will still lose. I’m not normal, though. My reflexes were good, but more importantly, when I was in my floating time mode, I had a knack for sensing the right moment to act. It was hard to explain, but when I felt like I should, I went all-in. I’d only ever told Arren about it, and she’d explained to me that it wasn’t something she had, maybe most people didn’t have it.
Arren. I needed to finish this fight quickly.
For a few seconds, Yvadne and I circled, our blades flicking out, testing the other’s defense. I really needed her to commit to an attack. The problem with short blades was that going for the kill might win the fight, but it will probably also get you stabbed or cut in the process. This was less than ideal...even if you managed to win.
Yvadne was a cagey fighter, and I didn’t think she’d fall for the same trick twice. If I’d had time, I could have worn her down...but I didn’t; Arren was bleeding out. I would have to take a gamble.
The next time I slashed and Yvadne counterattacked, I let her nick my offhand arm. I recoiled, letting the actual injury sell my feign. In response, she didn’t commit as much as I would have liked, but she still stepped forward to push the attack.
Once again, her action would have been correct if I hadn’t been bluffing. Unfortunately for her, I knew exactly how to reverse the momentum on her.
I darted forward, grabbing Yvadne’s knife wrist with my free hand. She tried to disengage her wrist from my grasp, hop back, and turn away all at the same time, but it was too late. In a last-ditch effort of defense, she attempted to grab my knife hand. She failed. I’d always been faster.
My shiv danced forward, my hand guiding the blade around Yvadne’s flailing arm. The first strike was bad—I hit a rib. The bronze shiv bent from the strike, but I didn’t let it stop me. I kept stepping into Yvadne as she backed away. In my floating time, Yvadne wasn’t an old comrade anymore, or even the woman who had attacked her own packmates. She was an obstacle to overcome.
Strike, strike, strike, strike. My blade stabbed Yvadne in the stomach, under the ribs, and near the collarbone. I really wanted to put my shiv in her throat, but her last-ditch defense was at least good enough to stop me from doing that. I also didn’t want to chance a reversal of the situation, so I remained hyper-focused and brutal as I struck down the beautiful redhead. After one last slash to her arm itself, she stumbled, and I kicked the cancerous bitch away.
Yvadne fell back to the cobblestones, coughing up blood. She weakly threw her shiv at me, which I easily dodged. I shook my head, dropped my floating time state of mind, and knelt next to Arren. Yvadne was a dead woman now. Even if I hadn’t hit anything vital, she’d bleed out soon. I doubt she’d have the strength to crawl.
I gently put my hands on Arren and checked her pulse as the red-haired girl I’d just dispatched painfully propped herself on one arm to look at me.
The pool of blood under Yvadne was massive and growing. The entire street was slick with blood at this point. “You think you’ve won, but you’ve accomplished nothing,” sneered Yvadne. Then she laughed, sounding even madder than before. “It doesn’t matter. Asag is coming to Ludus, and all of you will die, raped by demons, your entrails pulled out. The Faithful will inherit this entire world! I was just following orders, Nora. Orders from the dark god. I will be rewarded. What about you?” Her voice was shrill, and I shook my head at how she sounded.
Until I turned over Arren.
My f
riend had been mortally wounded. After one look at Arren, I got up to retrieve Yvadne’s shiv she’d thrown at me. I closed on the beautiful killer and thoughts were cold as a cellar wall. Yvadne was still laughing until I put my foot on her neck. I leaned my weight forward, digging the edge of my boot into her throat. Then when her hands began clawing at my ankle, I bent down with my entire body weight and slammed her own shiv into her heart.
“Laugh about that, you rotting traitor,” I snarled. I watched Yvadne for a couple seconds as her body spasmed in death before spitting on her corpse.
My heart was heavy as I walked back to Arren. Then I sat on the bloody flagstones, gently levering my friend’s shoulder high enough to put her head in my lap. I was covered in blood, and getting more on me, but I didn’t care. When I saw water falling, it took me a while to understand that I was crying. How was that happening? I hadn’t cried in a long time.
I avoided looking at Arren’s wounds, but the image was burned in my mind. Yvadne had known what she’d been about, and there was nothing I could do. Maybe if I was rich and had access to a fancy hospital or surgeons...While I was dreaming, maybe I could coincidentally know a Body school mage. But no, we were Bittertown Jackals. We didn’t know fancy folks. Nobody would help us. Usually, we liked that just fine, but as I cradled Arren’s head, I wondered if there was a better way.
The fact I had a hard decision to make was knocking on my mind, but my emotions were holding the door shut. I couldn’t do anything to help her, but I couldn’t leave her, either. She was...Arren. What should I do?
I was staring at my friend’s face when her eyelids fluttered, and she opened her eyes. I realized I’d be stroking her hair. She must have felt it because she smiled weakly at me.
“Hey, Nora; how are things?” she asked.
I really tried to speak normally, but I think my voice cracked. I said, “Pretty good. I just killed Yvadne. She didn’t kill me.”
“I’m so sorry, Nora.” Arren sighed, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry I was careless, and I’m sorry you had to do that. I know you, and I know you will carry it in your heart even though you shouldn’t.”
Mitigating Risk Page 2
