“Sure. Oils from a pressed Black Nut cause fevers by heating the blood while simultaneously triggering an autoimmune response by designating red blood as a foreign object. It is especially dangerous to mana breeds because it interferes with the mana gate flow.”
“Right, thank you...This is just what I need!”
Priestess plucked the arrow from Zettai’s chest and provoked a yelp of pain. She snapped her fingers and a complex lattice of golden-brown power settled in its place. Before Noisop’s eyes, all the damage Priestess caused with her reckless act mended. Wrapping up the arrow in cloth, she put it away in her own pouch.
“This should be the extermination solution that planet needs, hopefully,” Priestess muttered to herself. “...By the way, when did you say we met?”
“Twenty years ago in Rlawader’s Mirror Forest.”
“Got it! See you then!” Her body shimmered, became transparent, and disappeared.
While this was going on, Raki was tending to her uncle. She gently lowered him to the floor and was especially careful with his head and neck. Closing her eyes and with her hands in a prayer position, she intoned, “Luke, Bladi Founder, I beseech thee. Give me your eyes so I may see the truth.”
She opened her eyes and they had changed. The light of ancestral blood shined in them and revealed the mystery of Basilard’s blood to her. Unlike the healer from the street, she saw the source of his paralysis.
“Uncle, what does it mean when someone’s blood is overshadowed?”
“Overshadowed? Do you see any odd shapes or markings?”
DING! went the front door.
“Team Fifteen reporting—holy fire, what happened here?!”
A human man garbed entirely in plants became the third person to kneel at Zettai’s side. Mia filled him in on what happened while he waved his staff over her. Unlike Noisop’s metallic contraption, this one looked like he picked it up in a forest. It enveloped the small girl in green light.
“Why aren’t you helping?” Mia demanded of the plant man’s teammate.
He was also male but clearly not human. The four ebony spikes growing from his elbows and shoulders alone proved that. There was also a clump of white fur sticking out the collar of his shirt and out the sleeve of his left arm.
“Because I don’t want to be killed in my sleep,” he responded. “If the Old Bloods in your clan heard that I saved a Bladi convert from their assassination attempt, they’d come after me next. The sum total of my other patients outweighs her life.”
“Tsilaer, you’re an ass,” the plant man said.
“Verde, you’re a bleeding heart,” the spike man said in reply.
“My relatives would not go this far,” Raki said.
“Where wouldn’t... Dear Ancestor! What’s going on?!”
A fifth Bladi walked into the lobby. Like Basilard, she wore a red scarf trimmed in gold around her neck. Unlike him, she wore clothes similar to that of a cleric instead of a warrior.
She was the oldest one present; strands of white streaked her pale red hair, which she wore in a bun. Though her face was free of wrinkles, it was blemished by black spots and unnaturally pale. She leaned on her staff and walked slowly towards her relatives.
“Someone tried to assassinate my daughter,” Basilard said, “and they used Bladi Paralysis to stop me from protecting her.”
“But that’s...” The woman clutched her staff. “No, no one in our clan is that extreme.”
“I have a prisoner,” Mia said. “I’ll interrogate him and report back.”
“You’re going to interrogate them?” Tsilaer asked. “Little Miss Smiles and Hugs?”
Mia glared at him. “I’ll be back in a minute.” She disappeared.
“Vastray, while we wait, please tell me what you’re doing here.”
“If you could move, you would kill me, wouldn’t you?”
“It’s been that kind of day.”
Vastray closed her eyes and bowed her head. “I was here to request the service of Dragon’s Lair Squad Two. There is a plague at the Bladi main compound.”
This news so shocked Basilard it took him time to form a response. “It must be serious if you’re requesting outside help.”
“A curse born of necrocraft is spreading through our family. Everyone except adoptive children and in-laws has been affected. In two months, it will kill all of us. The Bladi line will end. I consider that very serious indeed.”
“Necro-poisoning?” Basilard asked. “That’s a cause for concern, but we can cure it.”
“You don’t understand!” Vastray said. “This is not mortal magic. It’s not even divine magic. It’s a cosmic disease. A reaper explained this and told us the solution.”
“That is not a solution!” Basilard shouted. “We will not use it.”
Vastray wrinkled her nose at his insistence. “We are looking into other solutions because we couldn’t use the reaper’s anyway. You were missing. That kind of unilateral decision-making is why the council doesn’t like you.”
“The council doesn’t like me because I exist. I still remember the wringer they put me through when I came back with BloodDrinker but not the Exile’s head.”
“It wasn’t that bad...” Vastray said.
“They tried to execute me.”
“That was only Tarquin Superbus!”
“The others didn’t object!”
“Do you see now, Verde?” Tsilaer asked. He was leaning casually against a wall. “This clan is not only dysfunctional, it is treacherous. It’s not safe to get involved.”
“When I see a child bleeding on the floor,” Verde said while he worked, “I don’t think about what her family can do to or for me. Not everything is a cost/benefit anal –”
Mia stepped out of nowhere and everyone gave her space. Her mouth was dripping blood, and more of it stained her dress. Her nails were more like claws than works of teenage art. Her eyes glowed ominously, yet her face was as cheery as ever.
“Good news! I made a new friend and he confided in me what happened.” She skipped to her uncle’s side and petted his hair. “Poor Uncle Basi. He’s a victim of a Forbidden Art.”
“Not Bladi Paralysis?”
Mia bobbed her head. “Uh-huh. It's truly Bladi Coffin. Someone obtained a sample of your blood and is using it to arrest your system. They would have gone further, but you’re the chief, so your authority protects you. If you were holding BloodDrinker instead of Zettai at the time, then it wouldn’t have affected you at all.”
“I recall that you reported a blood theft some time ago,” Vastray said. “It was at the Mana Mutation Summit. The council is still trying to figure out how you lost to an academic mage.”
“There was an Order Domination Field and he was wearing Ordercraft Armor,” Basilard said. “He was ready for me.”
“Didn’t The Trickster pick you because such things did not bother you?” Vastray asked.
“Zettai’s conversion did not drain me of strength,” Basilard said. “She had nothing to do with it. That theory is just an excuse for these extremists.”
“That is slander,” Vastray said.
“That is fact,” Basilard said. “Only a bladi can use bladicraft. Mia, trace the blood.”
“One moment.” Her tone chilled and her voice sharpened in malice. “My new friend is Polil Superbus Bladi, the son of Tarquin Superbus Bladi.”
“Polil is dead,” Vastray said. “He was killed by a monster one month ago. We held his funeral last week.”
“You didn’t invite me,” Mia said, “again.”
“You couldn’t attend it, so there’s no point.”
“It’s a matter of courtesy!”
“Mia, focus.”
Mia tapped her head with her fist. “Sorry, Uncle Basi. It’s him without a doubt.” She pinched air between her thumb and forefinger and raised her hand upwards as if she were unzipping something. “Take a look for yourself.”
Vastray stuck her head into Mia’s pocket dimensio
n and gasped. Chained by all four limbs and bleeding in five places was the man whose burial she watched. Stepping fully into the dimension, she demanded, “Do you know what you’ve done?!”
“Kill the abomination. Protect the clan’s traditions.” Polil spoke in a monotone and stared into the distance. “I cannot in good conscience allow that creature to live. I have a sincerely held religious belief that it must be destroyed.”
“You sound ridiculous!” Vastray said. “The last thing our clan needs is in-fighting.”
“The council authorized the extermination,” Polil droned. “The abomination is the cause of the necro plague. Death himself is calling for her.”
“That’s not what they told me! We can’t pass this off as youthful foolishness. Basilard could lawfully kill you for this; feed you to BloodDrinker to repay the blood you spilled!”
“Kill the abomination. Protect the clan’s traditions. I cannot in good conscience allow that creature to live. I have a sincerely held religious belief that it must be destroyed,” Polil repeated. “Kill the abomination. Protect the clan’s traditions.”
Vastray shook her head and walked out of the pocket dimension.
“His father must have put him up to this,” Mia said.
“Tarquin is not the council,” Vastray said.
“He thinks he’s the council with all posturing about his unofficial role as—” The door dinged and Mia spun to it out of reflex. “Hello and welcome to the Dragon’s Lair! Please pardon the blood.”
The person dashed past her and raised a spiked boot to impale Zettai’s heart. Then suddenly, they were implanted in a crater at the lobby’s far wall. Basilard was sitting up and clutching BloodDrinker, whose tip he pointed at the attacker.
He shifted to his feet and stalked forward. His eyes were glowing and his mouth was set in a predatory grin. Like the lunge of a snake’s fang, he plunged BloodDrinker into the assassin’s body and it consumed her.
The woman’s body withered until it was dry dust. BloodDrinker shimmered with satisfaction. Of all the blooded beings, a Bladi was the most delectable.
“You just murdered a family member!” Vastray shouted.
“In defense of my daughter!” Basilard shouted back.
“Legal ward!”
They stared each other down.
“Regardless,” Basilard said, “that was the third attempt on her life within half an hour and all three of them were carried out by Bladi.”
“That...That can’t be right...” Vastray examined the corpse for herself. BloodDrinker thoughtfully left a single drop of blood for this purpose.
“...Tarquin’s niece...Lily...but...that...” She shook her head, unable to reconcile this fact to herself. “Let’s go to the main house. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“Lead the way.”
“Uncle!” Raki said. “I didn't put BloodDrinker into your hand so you could run into a lion's den!”
Basilard displayed BloodDrinker. “I am the chief of this clan and BloodDrinker is our deity. No Forbidden Art can affect the one who forbade it in the first place.”
One hand on the door and one hand around BloodDrinker’s hilt, he turned back to the lobby. Raki looked worried. Mia looked worried. Zettai was unconscious due to painkillers.
“Take Zettai to the Dragon’s Head and keep her safe until you hear from me.”
Both sisters saluted. “Yes, Uncle Chief.”
A carriage was parked in a side street next to the guild. Basilard helped Vastray into it and then sat across from her. On the way, she explained to him in more detail what had occurred in his absence and he told her about the wonderful time he had with his new daughter.
“Do not push for the Adoption Ceremony,” Vastray said. “Now is not the time.”
“It will happen and soon.”
The Bladi clan’s main compound was in the countryside of Ataidar. An outer wall and palisades made it resemble a fortress. A gate had to be opened to allow entry and two towers to each side watched it. Both soldiers and mages staffed them. It struck Basilard that Zettai once snuck past them all and he felt a smile creep onto his face.
Inside the walls, there were a lot of things he expected to find; an angry mob with torches and pitchforks for one and a warzone was another. Given news of this necro plague, new graves, an empty courtyard, and over-zealous cleaning were top on his list. What truly awaited him was unlike anything he imagined.
“What should we do with a drunken sailor; What should we do with a drunken sailor; What should we do with a drunken sailor early in the mor-ning?!”
His relatives were having a party. If anyone was ill and vomiting because of this illness, then it was from drinking too much alcohol. Then he got closer and noticed boils on their faces and hands, and a magic sphere encompassing them.
“Behold the New Blood solution to the necro-curse,” Vastray said dramatically. She pointed out the many bottles scattering the field and piles of food debris. “Drink themselves stupid and stuff their guts with junk food until the end comes.”
“It is admirable that they would refuse to murder an innocent child.”
“It is disgraceful.” Vastray hobbled toward the council hall. “If they were around in the Great Bladi Hunt of the fourteenth century, you and I would not be alive today.”
“It is because our ancestors were like them that you and I are alive today.”
Vastray sighed. “It is unfortunate that we disagree.”
The Bladi Council Hall was a red building resembling a fortress’ central keep. It was a stone building with two flame-retardant doors and all the windows could be barred from the inside. It was set apart from the industrial buildings and the domestic sector. It stood alone as the clan’s administrative center. As the chief, Basilard himself technically had a seat here, but the other council members treated his role as something separate from themselves. He was not surprised to find them already assembled.
The Council of Blood sat in their throne-like chairs like a crescent of hounds. He gripped BloodDrinker’s hilt.
“Thank you for gathering on such short notice,” he said sarcastically.
“You are the chief, however unusual your ascent might have been,” Logius Bladi said. Her outfit consisted of a military-style uniform, army boots, and hair styled into a crew cut.
“Tarquin Superbus.”
“Yes, Chief?” Tarquin was bald except for a thick red skullet. He wore red robes festooned with bladi symbols.
“Three attempts were made on Zettai’s life today and two of them were carried out by your son and niece,” Basilard said. “There are witnesses in Warrior Town as well as in Central Hearth, digital evidence from the Dragon’s Lair, and also your supposedly dead son is alive and well in Mia’s pocket dimension.”
“That’s outrageous!” Pompey Bladi could be described as a taffy human because his lankiness made him look stretched out. His business attire didn’t reach his wrists or his ankles despite their large size.
“It’s true,” Vastray said. “I’ve seen it for myself. I watched Lily enter the Dragon’s Lair and attempt to spear Zettai’s heart.”
“Chief Basilard,” Tarquin said, “I would love nothing more than to see your legal ward dead, but I would also hate nothing more than to order her death. Official status aside, she has your blood in her veins and murdering the offspring of a relative is a greater sin than Bladi Conversion. Surely you don’t believe I would commit a great sin to wash away a lesser sin.”
“If anyone’s a stickler for rules, it’s you, but then how do you explain these attacks?” Basilard asked. “I’m not just talking about today. Zettai has given me hand-written notes threatening her life. I have seen bruises on her body. She’s scared of you. Why?”
“She is killing our clan,” Tarquin said. “However unintentional it may be on her part, her presence is a poison to the Bladi clan. This has nothing to do with our doctrine. It has to do with the cycle of life and death, and how she violated it.”
“While in Ceiha, she was killed by a Black Rose choker created by a mage with illegitimate necrocraft,” Tarquin said. “Because of this user’s illegitimacy, her soul did not completely leave her body. Then a reaper pulled the choker off, and in doing so, revived her. What’s worse, that reaper was outside of his jurisdiction because she summoned him. Finally, a reaper whose authority was revoked by that reaper but reclaimed it through a blessing from Order removed her soul from her body and she usurped his quasi-legal authority over souls to return it to her body. That is as many as five violations of the Book of Death.”
“Fine,” Basilard said. “I will talk with Lord Death during our next drinking game and sort out these petty misdemeanors. He’s a nice guy and he will understand.”
“What is Lord Death’s category as a deity?” Logius asked.
Basilard grounded his teeth.
“Well?” Logius prodded.
“...Natural Order God.”
“Exactly. He did not create the rules because he is the rules,” Logius said. “He cannot make exceptions for anyone.”
“I thought you learned this lesson when you tried to revive your first batch of students,” Pompey said sardonically.
“I don’t expect someone without students or children to understand!” Basilard yelled.
“My wife is barren, you asshole!” Pompey screeched.
“That’s not an excuse for ”
A resounding thud cut them off. It came from the closed fist of the biggest Bladi in the room. He stood head and shoulders above everyone. A big red beard descended from his mouth and short red hair stood on his head.
“Personal attacks will get us nowhere,” he said in a deep voice. “The facts, as they stand, are as follows. Number One: members of our clan contracted necro-poisoning around the same time that Zettai became a Bladi and committed these Death Violations. Number Two: the disease has spread and grown worse since then. Number Three: standard cures have failed and those inflicted show no trace of possessing necrocraft themselves. Number Four: a reaper appeared to us yesterday to explain Zettai’s five Death Violations to us and that her death could nullify the offenses and save us. Number Five: Zettai’s status as a Bladi Convert is not the root of the curse, and thus, it is irrelevant to this crisis. Give these five facts, we must calmly and civilly discuss solutions.”
Transcending Limitations Page 43
