As if she was committed to avoid detection.
She had probably been hiding on some level for the last fifty years. But it didn’t make sense for my Breath to suddenly stop working on her.
Then again, the Breath had suddenly stopped working on a lot of things.
The Horde were becoming harder to track through it, except for the small groups emerging from the Pits every day.
Even the idiot who had roared at me from the desert wastes was being quiet right now.
It was aggravating.
“Breena,” I asked, as everyone else got up to get ready, “Anahita has a lot of anti-detection abilities, doesn’t she?”
“Oh yeah,” the pink woman said as she finished chewing a large desert date. “Loads of them. Stealth and misdirection is her thing. So she’s probably okay. The rest of us would feel it if she wasn’t.”
Then she grabbed a small square of what my mindscreen registered as a basbousa cake—a moist, sandy-textured cake sweetened with syrup and various nuts—and gobbled it up with a few bites.
“See?” she said brightly. “Not worried.”
Come on, Breena, I heard her think the next moment. Sell it hard, or he’ll be able to tell that you’re lying. And don’t let anything leak from the mindlink this time!
But I already knew.
Breena never ate sweets that slowly.
But worrying over what we didn’t know was only going to make things worse.
“At any rate,” I said, getting up, “we need to move. Now that I have Chris’ warning, it’s even more important to hit as many Horde Pits as quickly as we can. They can’t travel through them if we keep blowing them up.”
“Yup,” Breena said, flying over to me. “As far as we know, anyway. But you’re right that we should stay positive! The sooner we act, the less plans all our enemies can make!”
She’s really worried, I reflected.
But there was nothing else to do about it.
Davelon and Rachel’s group had arrived to deal with the Horde armies spawning from the Pits every day. I worried about them getting overwhelmed, but so far these Horde didn’t seem to be careful. They just tried to rush for Mejem in big groups. They had been easy to ambush, especially when I took part in said ambushing, because they would come howling for my blood with an intensity that surpassed even the Raw-Maw Icons.
My friends from Earth had already handled two groups yesterday, and seemed to have gotten much stronger for it. Perhaps in time they’d even catch up to the power level of my own group, which would be great.
As it was, though, they were doing an awesome job, and now more forces from Avalon had arrived today, with at least one veteran Wealthwalker in every group.
The ancient pathfinders had existed long before the Horde had ever come to Avalon, but so far, they had proven more than capable of dealing with them.
I would have to trust in their competence and leave the battlefield around Mejem in their hands.
Especially since there were signs that others needed me much, much more right now.
And for all I knew, my leaving would shift some of the Horde’s focus, forcing them to divide their attention toward me, and away from the territories I was taking.
My people and I headed to the stables. Mejem had been much better off than Nedjena was in many ways. One of which was that it had a larger, better stock of Risen horses.
I was starting to feel like I might need my own mount soon, though.
Let me see what I can figure out about that, Teeth said, speaking up suddenly. And we still need to talk about yesterday.
What do you mean? I asked as I approached a tawny, lanky horse, already saddled and tacked. The animal snorted indifferently at me, until I produced an apple. After that, the animal nickered affectionately at me, as if to let me know it wouldn’t toss me from its back as soon as I mounted it.
I mean the rival claimant, my inner dragon unhelpfully clarified as I carefully set my foot in the saddle stirrup.
You mean the giant, asshole, wannabe ventriloquist that tried to kill us with our own spell? I asked as I successfully pulled myself into the saddle, my superhuman Dexterity and Deftness going a long way in helping me overcome my unfamiliarity with horses. Instincts from my Riding skill helped me settle in completely, and I grabbed the horse’s reins, glancing around to make sure my companions were doing the same. So far, Val was the only one needing help, but she was still riding with Salima, who lifted down to help her up.
She also seemed to have a twinkle in her eye whenever the older woman offered to teach her something. I figured that was a good thing. Virtus and I would teach her whatever we could, but I knew she’d get something special from an older woman mentoring her.
Yeah, that guy, Teeth replied, pulling me back into our current conversation. The one sending Dark Icons and shit at us. I think I know why he thinks we’re a threat.
Isn’t that obvious? I asked, slowly sending my horse into a trot. My retinue all did the same, leading our animals out of the stable yard and toward the city gates. We corrupted their Horde, transformed their disgusting torture-pits into lovable heal-jellies, et cetera et cetera?
That stuff’s thrown the Horde itself into a frenzy, Teeth admitted as hooves sounded off the cobblestones. But it’s still not the main thing. The main thing is the threat we pose beyond that. Our biggest threat is what will happen if we kill him—and his biggest threat, bigger even than his conquering all of these worlds, is what will happen if he kills us.
Instead of immediately asking what he meant by that, I took a moment to concentrate on driving my horse through the open city gates. The guards there wore proud faces as they waved us goodbye, cheering and shouting out that we should take the rest of their lands back.
I planned on it, even as I puzzled out what Teeth was having trouble saying openly.
This is about the consumption thing, isn’t it? I finally said, as we began our trek through the sands. The fact that dragons usually eat their opponents. I take it we’d both gain something from eating each other, due to Aegrim’s mantle, or whatever?
That’s right, Teeth confirmed in a relieved tone. You remember how badly I wanted to eat the Tidefather? You uh, kind of had to stop me there, and for once because I was actually wrong?
I gave him my best mental glare.
Well, we absolutely need to kill Volagro, and this time I can’t let you talk us out of it. I’ll explain why.
Go ahead, I said blandly as I tugged on my horse’ reins. These animals were faster than Nedjena’s mounts, and Nedjena’s mounts were already several times faster than a normal horse. With our magics enhancing them, we were probably traveling faster than the average automobile.
Okay, I’ll go ahead and lead with the fact that Volagro’s power is going to be much easier to digest than the Tidefather’s was. Despite the fact that the asshole in the Lost Deeps is even stronger than the Least Wyrm we fought underneath Avalon was, Volagro’s power won’t put us under. The Tidefather’s power was alien enough for us to need to devote much of our body’s energy into storing it properly. But our shared kinship with Aegrim is going to ensure that we’ll have a much easier time digesting him when we tear out all his throats. It may take a decade or two to process it all, but we’ll be able to do whatever random, obnoxious crap you feel like making us do. Assuming there will be anything left to worry about after we liberate the Lost Deeps.
That takes care of most of my concern regarding the idea, I conceded as we passed another dune. I’m still not a hundred percent comfortable with the whole cannibalism thing.
Yeah, well you’re my stupid human side, so I forgive you, Teeth attempted to say graciously. I’ll try and make it even easier for you, though. Imagine what you could do for people if you had a smooth transition to unlocking your draconic power, one that eventually led you to becoming the next Pendragon. One that gave you both additional power and control, without any risk of that corruption stuff you keep worrying about.
I’m serious, Teeth said, Imagine if you were eating a four-pound steak, only if it was good for you. Or maybe a four-pound kale salad that was actually tasty. It’ll take a while to digest. Now yeah, some cows and all vegetables are jerks, but you won’t suddenly become a jerk just because the cow or vegetable in question was a jerk back when it lived. But still, that’s not the biggest issue.
Go ahead and tell me the biggest issue, I told him dryly, blinking as a stray bit of sand blew past. I’m dying of suspense.
Ha-ha, Teeth sent back, fuck you too. It’s not my fault this issue is important and I want to make sure I have your attention. The really big issue is, with a Wyrm of Volagro’s power, and one who is a Master in the Ideal of Blood—and probably several others—killing him won’t be easy. He’ll have contingencies, and if we don’t eat him all on the spot, enough of his essence will escape to execute those contingencies. Then you’ll have to deal with him again later, when you’re least expecting it. And then our people will be in danger again. So that’s why our feud should be important on our end. He’s got even more at stake though.
I’m still listening, I replied to cut off his next dramatic pause. Salima took us through a left turn around a dune, and another breeze blew across my face.
Volagro will gain even more from devouring us, Teeth continued. He’s already at the Wyrm level. And not only are we a rival heir to Aegrim’s power, we’re a Planetary Lord. One with a bond to his ancestor’s greatest rival. If he slays and eats us, then not only will he gain all sorts of unique powers, he’ll receive enough raw might to assume Aegrim’s mantle completely and fully evolve into a Cosmic Wyrm. Then, he’ll be as strong as Aegrim was, and no seal will bind him to any world. He’ll be able to go wherever he wants, whenever he wants, and fly through the Expanse without needing Pathways. And that will be with an army at his back, an entire Pantheon of Icons at his call, as a Master or Grandmaster of several Ideals. All of that without a rival Cosmic Wyrm or army of Earthborn heroes to stop him this time.
I winced at that, as my horse continued to follow Salima’s.
He’ll be even stronger than Cavus is, I admitted, assuming he isn’t already.
Fuck Cavus, Teeth growled, but yes. He’ll probably be stronger than an entire army of Umbra. He’ll be strong enough to travel wherever he wants, eat whoever he wants, and grow all the stronger for it. He might even grow strong enough to hunt out any surviving Cosmic Wyrms that are still sleeping, eat them, then grow even stronger. Assuming there isn’t some hero or dragon out there somewhere strong enough to put him down, he’ll devour or enslave the entire Expanse.
That actually makes a strong case for us not encountering him, I pointed out as my caravan crested around another dune.
Except that we don’t have a choice anymore, Teeth retorted. He’s going to come after us no matter what, and even if he’s not the one that kills us, he can still have his Horde track our essence down and bring it back to him. It will take longer, but the result will still be the same. And if we hole up in Avalon, more worlds will fall, and then his armies will invade there as well, and in a much stronger position than if we took the fight to him directly. We don’t have a choice, Teeth added bluntly. It is literally eat or be eaten—and the winner will be all the stronger for it. We save nothing by hiding from him, and gain everything by eating all five-plus of his scaly faces.
Fair enough, I thought back, grimacing at Teeth’s choice of imagery. I’ll move his punk ass up my list next to Warren and Cavus. Especially since I know what I can gain from killing him, now.
I had seen enough by now to know that the Expanse was full of dirtbags.
Once I had stopped all the immediate threats, I’d spend enough time making both myself and my worlds strong enough to where no other tyrant could ever threaten us again.
Hell, if the Stellar Council was still around like Peitan believed, I should get preemptive and wipe them out, before they could outmaneuver me and stab me in the back like they had with my prehistoric ancestors.
An ounce of prevention was supposedly worth a pound of cure.
So dropping a couple tons of prevention on those assholes’ heads might be the equivalent of curing a thousand global pandemics.
More wind whipped across my face, bringing me back to the present. It would be hours before we reached the next city, but we were back in enemy territory now, and could run into one of their patrols any moment. Tajam was one of the major population centers in this world, and would be the largest city I had encountered on any of Avalon’s worlds yet, with a population rivaling the largest of the Woadland tribes.
Which meant that the Malus presence there would be much larger. I wasn’t attacking backwater posts anymore.
In fact, I was attacking a territory I probably wouldn’t be able to hold, but I needed to deny my enemy every Horde Pit and Malus operative I could.
And maybe, just maybe, during the ride I could figure out either how to link up with Anahita and the local resistance or come up with a way to protect the citizens from retaliation if I couldn’t hold the city.
That last possibility really bothered me, but I had to remind myself that I couldn’t save everyone. People had been suffering in my absence, they were going to continue to suffer if I did nothing, and if I tried to save people I actually couldn’t save, then I’d wind up saving no one at all.
No, you’re right, Salima spoke up over the mindlink, a commander needs to hear this sort of thing. Go ahead and tell him, Val.
Yeah, Val, I sent with a sigh to the both of them, figuring Salima had let her last comments slip on purpose. Go ahead and tell me.
I—I’m sorry, my little adopted sister spoke up, I didn’t want to distract you. We talk all the time, and I know you’re busy with a lot of things, and I don’t want to monopolize—
Val, I interrupted as gently as I could. It’s fine. We’ve got hours before we reach our next destination. I’m free. And you’ve already been discreet. If Salima thinks I should hear this, she’s probably right. And if it turns out that the news isn’t a big deal, this is still the best time for us to find out. What’s up?
Back when we were her foster family, Dad had told me that Val was really good at putting up a lot of false confidence. She learned how to survive by looking and acting tougher than she felt she was. He said she had needed to do that to protect herself from creeps back when she was homeless, but now those instincts would make it harder for her to figure out how to behave in an environment that was actually safe for her.
He also said that the best thing I could do as an older brother would be giving her plenty of time to figure it out.
No one could really teach her how to be okay with herself.
We could just communicate that we were perfectly okay with the way she was right now.
Well…okay, my Asian sister decided, and I felt her resolve firm up through the mindlink. I think Ball-ee’s started acting weird.
What do you mean? I asked, projecting through the mindlink that yes, this was probably super-relevant.
I mean I’ve been kind of taking care of him since the beginning. Him specifically—the original one, I mean. He’s the same one we’ve been bringing every time we’ve had to undo one of the Pits. I’ve been making sure I haven’t been slacking off with all the other stuff though, she added quickly.
I continued projecting unbothered confidence through the mindlink, and she continued speaking the next moment.
I’ve noticed that he’s actually changed a little each time he’s purified a Horde Pit. Each time he makes another little heal-jelly. He hasn’t just gotten bigger. That mist he’s been emitting has been getting thicker…and he f
eels bothered.
Really? I asked, surprised. Ball-ee usually didn’t show any emotion beyond cheerful curiosity and a burning desire to help others recover from trauma.
Yeah…Val said, sounding more and more confident, he’s still not saying anything more than his ‘di-rec-tive’ questions, but he twitches now, and wiggles like he’s frustrated. I think he’s trying and failing to do something, over and over.
So it seems like he has some kind of new power, that he can’t figure out how to use or describe yet? I asked, because that sentiment was a hundred percent familiar to me, to the point that a certain Starsown was probably tired of dealing with it.
I think that’s exactly it, she confirmed, he keeps muttering ‘di-rec-tive’ but he doesn’t follow it up with his normal questions. Then he kind of scrunches up and makes these tense little wiggles.
Knives in the Night Page 25
