Eight 4

People came out of their homes. A whistle sounded, and then the town’s alarm drums began to beat, the sound muted by the downpour. Still, the militia found their way to our doorstep, and it was up to Mumu and Tegen to explain that there’d been a saboteur.

Haol was fine, although the shirt he’d worn would have to be mended and laundered. Anya and Weni handled the emergency well and put off asking questions for the time being. We gave them the basic rundown on the Maltrans anyway, just so they knew what to watch out for. Snow found a spot on the rooftop across the street. In the dark and rain, and with the militia on alert, we weren’t taking chances with the blynx’s safety.

The whole time I was a bundle of nerves, checking everyone with my Status camera and verifying the entries by merging with Yuki to make sure the readings weren’t spoofed.

The town’s reeve showed up to take charge and learn the extent of the threat. Once he heard it was sabotage and not a monster invasion, the tension went out of him. Messengers were sent off, and the drums’ rhythm changed to signal that no creatures had gotten inside the town.

The chaos lasted for a little longer afterward, but no one wanted to be out in the rain, and the reeve decided that the investigation could safely begin in the morning. After all, if the lauded hunters of Voorhei couldn’t track the perpetrator in this downpour, the land soldiers wouldn’t be able to either.

Before the reeve left, Mumu asked about alternative lodgings, but the Wholesome Ox was full up. And he knew it for certain, because he was one of the owners. As were the town head and the world speaker assigned to the town. The three of them were all members of the same family.

Everyone eventually left except for a couple of land soldiers who were stationed just inside where the longhouse roof was still intact. The rest of us moved the beds deeper in and cleared the debris from them as best we could.

The cold blew straight through the new gap in the wall, but we were out of the rain, and we had our gear. We treated the rest of the night as if we were in the wilds, bundled and keeping watches.

None of us slept, though, and all the way until morning we discussed how to proceed.

###

As dawn broke, a fresh batch of land soldiers arrived to escort Mumu to an interrogation. Haol went with her to watch her back.

Also, the longhouse’s owners were allowed to sort through their stuff to tabulate the damage. They were rightly angered by what had happened, but weren’t sure who to confront about compensation. Our lodge was well known to be wealthy these days, but we weren’t exactly at fault, were we?

After a couple of hours, a messenger was sent to relieve the land soldiers “protecting” the longhouse from their duty. We were allowed to wander around town again, so we made a beeline for the Wholesome Ox.

People were still eating breakfast and hanging around in the common room. The space should’ve been lighter without its ghosts, but the mood was heavy and the gossip all about the previous night’s bombing.

Immediately, we headed to where the Albei hunters had gathered and embedded ourselves there. They closed in around us like bodyguards.

The fee was answering their questions about what had happened, but it was worth it for the extra eyes watching for trouble. Plus, this way we could address everyone in the room. There was no way the other expeditions weren’t eavesdropping, and the more people aware of the Maltran threat, the better.

Speaking of which, we arranged for a courier to Albei to inform the land knight of the Maltrans presence in Bashruuta. Mumu had already used her calling stone, and it was likely something the reeve would also do, but none of us felt like taking chances.

Mumu returned with a hand on Haol’s arm. They made a fetching pair, and it nicely hid that she was feeling woozy in the aftermath of the interrogation’s truth-telling drugs. As we got some food into her, Haol spoke to the table about the town leadership’s intentions: “The land soldiers and militia will keep the peace, while they wait for the hierophant’s arrival.”

“That’s it?” I couldn’t help asking. “That’s the plan?”

Haol glanced around the room, brimming with the dawn and dusk. “They mean to keep us all penned until someone more powerful arrives.”

“But the Maltrans,” I said.

“We trust your eyes.” Haol gestured to himself and the rest of our expedition. “But it was a glimpse on a dark, rainy night, and the town’s leadership is hoping you made a mistake. And if you didn’t, then that’s an even better reason to wait. There were silvered among the Maltrans, right?”

“At least two survived, yes.”

Haol made a gesture as if to say, “Well, there you go.”

Mumu put down her spoon. “More than that, there is also politics involved.” Haol glanced worriedly at her, but she signed to the table, “I’m well. Clear minded.”

“Politics,” I said to get the explanation started again.

“That’s right,” Mumu said. “We don’t hear it much in Voorhei, but not everyone in the Three-City Alliance is in agreement about how to handle the Maltrans.”

Tegen nodded solemnly. “There are those who admire their empire.”

“A sad truth,” Mumu replied.

“But their sabotage,” I said, offended. “And I don’t mean just the explosion last night. There’s also the attack on the Glen and everything else the Maltrans have done to disrupt the peace in the whole of Albeityel.”

Tegen’s smile was bitter. “Albei is least among the Three Cities. If not for the quality of the raw materials we provide, we wouldn’t be considered a partner at all.”

Anya had been willing to just listen up to that point, but then she asked, “How will this affect the expedition?”

“The level of danger has increased,” Mumu said. “We expected a certain amount of interference, but the attack last night shows that we’re being targeted.”

“You mean, you’re being targeted,” Wensatsu said, clarifying.

“A truth,” Mumu said. “As for how to proceed, first we need a place where we can safely talk.”

“There’s going to be nowhere private,” Haol said.

“We were counting on our smallness to shield us from scrutiny,” Tegen said, “but that’s no longer possible. The inn does have a shielded room…”

“One that can withstand the depth of talent in this room?” Anya asked, doubtful.

“The innkeepers claim it to be so,” Tegen replied.

I asked the sisters, “You don’t happen to have any anti-espionage spells, do you?”

“Our family’s magics tend toward the eclectic,” Weni answered, “but we don’t have anything along those lines.”

“The philosophers do,” Anya added. “Unfortunately, I spent the merit I’ve gained elsewhere.”

“We’ll have to trust the inn’s meeting room then,” Tegen said. “It’s meant for sensitive negotiations and planning. Hopefully that will be enough.”

###

The innkeepers were delighted to provide a secure meeting room… for a fee. We also had to wait until the afternoon, which was the soonest when it would be available. There were two expeditions ahead of us in line. So we went back to our seats, twiddled our thumbs, and distractedly watched the entertainment.

To observers, we were a taciturn, silent bunch. On the Yuki network, however, my team talked in endless circles about our options. None of it meant anything, though, until we could consult as a group.

Lunch came and went—a bean casserole of some kind. The performers changed twice, and it wasn’t until nearly the end of the third’s set that we were finally summoned. Sighs of relief sounded all around.

The secure meeting room was a ten-by-ten box, the walls covered in runes. In the center was a round table, but it only sat four comfortably. A pearlescent stone embedded in the table was supposed to be where we contributed our mana to power the magics.

Mumu took a seat and gestured for me to do the same. Ikfael would also sit, of course, once we knew the room truly was secure. To check, Anya examined the runes, the others moving out of her way as she went from wall to wall.

“I…” she began, paused to think, and then started over, “I believe some of these are decorative, but the rest are legitimate. They deal with sight, sound, presence, and intention.”

“So we can talk freely?” Mumu asked.

“Maybe,” Anya said. “While the public may not be able to spy on us, it’s likely the inn’s owners have included a way for them to do so.”

“I don’t like it, but this is still probably our best option,” Mumu said. Then she put her hands on the stone to share her mana, and the runes around us glowed.

Anya sniffed and said, “Those are the decorative parts.” The walls brightened when she sat and also put her hands on the stone.

“It seems impressive, though,” I observed. “If I were a worried merchant, I’d feel safer knowing the magic was at work.” The stone drew a steady trickle of mana from me, and the runes brightened once more. Snow came over to place her head in my lap—her way of supporting me.

Mumu tapped the stone. “Focus, please. We have limited time and much to discuss. But before we begin—the other expeditions will eventually learn of our full roster and the purpose of our participation in the race. Those, we will speak about. Anything else is not to be trusted to these walls. Understood?”

Both those sitting at the table and those standing around it, all nodded in reply. Even Snow yowled along.

“Then, Ikfael, please join us,” Mumu said.

The spirit of the land appeared out of the figurine and onto the table in her otter form. She looked at the walls, but only briefly, shaking her head to indicate that she didn’t have anything to add about the room’s security. Then she hopped down to take a seat and said, “I’ve been listening.”

Anya a raised hand to begin the discussion. “As I see it, we have four options. One, we pull out of the race entirely. Two, we continue, but without Voorhei’s help. Instead, my sister and I attach ourselves to another expedition. Three, we continue, but leave behind Eight. And four, nothing changes. The expedition continues as planned.” She glanced at her sister—

But before she could say anything else, Tegen interrupted her. “We will not leave Eight to fend for himself.”

“No, of course not,” Anya said. “But a clear decision requires clear understanding. I will not leave out options because they are unsavory.”

Weni tapped the silver feathers running alongside her head. “I’ll remind my sister that our aunt has made our entry in the race contingent on Eight’s participation.”

“True, yes.” Anya cleared her throat. “That means just two options are open to us. We either pull out or continue as planned.”

“It’s still not that simple,” I said, gesturing toward Ikfael.

The spirit of the land was owed first choice among the treasures recovered by our expedition. What would happen if that expedition was suddenly canceled? We’d technically already begun even if the race itself hadn’t started.

“We have to continue,” Ikfael said. “We are all links in a chain of exchanges that cannot be broken. The balance maintained is delicate, and the repercussions would be severe. To all of us.”

“And there’s no room to wiggle anywhere in that chain?” I asked.

“One cannot cheat intentions,” Ikfael said. “The World Spirit would know.”

“So nothing changes,” Mumu said. “Nothing can change.”

“Everything’s changed,” Weni said. “We’re being actively targeted. There’ll be no slipping in and out while the ruins’ protectors are distracted.”

That wasn’t quite right, though, was it? “I killed the Maltrans’ diviner, so there’s a decent chance they don’t know Ikfael is here. That means the explosion targeted me to get revenge for their dead. If that’s true, then I can lead them off, and someone else can carry Ikfael into Old Baxteiyel. That would limit the damage to just my portion of the exchange.”

“Eight, you speak with too many assumptions,” Tegen said.

“But we have to start planning from somewhere,” I objected.

“We will not let you break an exchange with a spirit of the land,” Mumu said.

“Why? What’ll happen?” I demanded.

At that, everyone turned to Ikfael for the answer.

“I will be forced to punish you,” she said. “And if I cannot, then the greater spirits will take it upon themselves to do it for me. The imbalance would be righted, taking into account all that I’ve provided you. Everything.”

“I’d probably die, huh?”

Ikfael looked down, so that I couldn’t see her face. “Or wish you were dead.”

Snow left my side to go sit by Ikfael. The otter hadn’t been expected to contribute mana to the privacy magics, so her paws were free to start petting the blynx. It seemed to be comfort for both.

The rest of us went silent as we considered Ikfael’s words. It occurred to me that I had probably been too cavalier over the years about the number of exchanges I’d made. My assumption had been that people were too precious about the process, but maybe they’d been right to be careful. Maybe my perspective had been skewed because of the circumstances of my arrival into this world.

I mean, I’d always been grateful. But it sounded like I should’ve been more cautious too. Or at least more mindful of the repercussions. With a sinking feeling, I realized that this was one more example of where I’d underestimated Ikfael.

“I’m going,” I said into the silence. “My part of the exchange will continue, no matter what.”

Anya looked to her sister, spirit stuff flowing between them in huge streams. “We’re of the same thought. The opportunity to study Old Baxteiyel will not come again in our lifetimes. We can’t miss it, even with the additional danger.”

Her fingers were pale from how tightly they gripped the stone, but then again, fear was a sensible response to our situation. We’d just have plan to deal with it, along with everything else we’d need to do to participate in the race to Old Baxteiyel.

###

We had the privacy room for two hours, and we spent the remainder adapting our plans for potential disruption by the Maltrans. With Yuki’s help, I dug up the exact wording on the survivors’ talents and shared the information around so that there’d be no surprises. The uekisheile also helped by recreating the fight blow-by-blow. I had to obscure some of my allies’ abilities, but the others understood that their secrets were not mine to give.

Afterward, we returned to the inn’s common room to find our table had been claimed by another expedition. There were no more free seats, so we grabbed the floor space where the kid’s ghost had been. That earned us some looks—some sympathetic, some mocking—but none of that mattered. We were operating under field rules, and what came first was our safety. Pride could go jump off a cliff; we’d roll in the mud if that was what it took to come through this alive.

Eventually, the town head found us to let us know new lodgings had been arranged—another longhouse—which we promptly refused and instead negotiated the use of the common room overnight.

Two things worked in our favor. The first was that, as one of the owners, the town head absolutely had the power to say yes. The second was that the practice was apparently common. I’d never seen it myself, but out on the road, inns couldn’t turn people away for lack of space. For a taak or two, they’d let guests sleep by the common room’s fireplace.

The town head didn’t want to do it at first, but we wore her down. Also, she must’ve realized partway through that we simply weren’t going to leave. She might as well collect an overblown fee in that case.

After that, we rested in shifts, with Snow venturing out into the rain to patrol the area. Each time, she came back drenched, and we loved on her tons to make up for it.

A couple of times, a rando in the room looked like they were working up the nerve to come over to make trouble, but we must’ve cast a deep martial shadow, because they chickened out every time.

The hours passed—not slow, not fast—we were on the hunt, and every action proceeded at its own pace. All I had to do was what required of me at each moment.

###

Out over the ocean, the hurricane stalled. The winds had been pushing it toward landfall, but then they paused in their labors to collect even more water from the ocean’s surface. They wouldn’t let me approach for a closer look, but even at a distance I felt the whirling energies of almost a dozen water spouts.

On my return to my body, the weather report on my phone updated to read that the hurricane’s arrival on land was delayed by two days. According to the new timetable, it’d reach Sugrusu Hakei about the time the race was scheduled to begin.

If I were a betting man, I’d expect an additional delay of a half-to-full day. The storm would come inland, and it would arrive at Old Baxteiyel. Why else the race’s timing? I thought.

###

That night, once the Ox’s bar shut down and the inn’s guests either left or retired to their rooms, we claimed a spot by one of the fireplaces.

“It’s like we’ve been transported elsewhere,” Haol commented as he looked around the common room now that it was dark and empty.

Without people in it, a place felt different. Without people in it, a life felt different too. I’d learned that well enough in both my lives, and so had the others with me. Watching them, I noted how I wasn’t the only one who’d made that connection.

During my watch, I kept my back to the fire so that it wouldn’t spoil my night vision. Haol shared the shift with me, wandering between the rooms like a ghost. The man could be surprisingly subtle when he wanted to be.

He’d seen Ikfael’s figurine move and cleared out in order to give us space to talk. My hands cupped around it like I might a calling stone.

“Things have been difficult between us, but I will hear no more talk of broken exchanges. Do you see me, Eight. Do you understand my message?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“That night in the park, I said something that I didn’t know I’d say. It… surprised us both.”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Yet the more I consider it, the more truth I recognize in those words. I will not retreat from them. I’m not sure what that means, but I won’t.”

“Then I won’t either,” I whispered.

Ikfael’s spirit gazed at me. “This is nice. I should talk to you more often in places where you can’t respond. It’s freeing to be able to say what I want and know you can only listen.”

“I will always listen.” Whispering softly, I said, “I told you; I won’t back away either.”

“Our Eight?”

“Yes?” I replied, my heart swelling.

“Good.”

###

Yuki prodded me awake, and the first thing I did was reach for my knives.

‘Easy,’ they said. ‘No danger, but the hierophant is here.’

I sat up and saw Xefwen coming down the stairs, neatly dressed and alongside one of the inn’s owners. The common room was still dark and the coals in the fireplaces banked. My Status clock read 4:32 am.

The rain had stopped while I’d been asleep, and the forecast had changed again. Now, the foul weather wouldn’t start up again until the afternoon. The hurricane was still on its way, though.

“Everyone must be woken up and told to assemble in the plaza,” Xefwen instructed. “My divinations tell me the situation has changed, and the race’s participants must depart as soon as possible. Prepare something to eat that’s easy to consume while traveling. I want everyone out by dawn at the latest. The latest, you hear me?”

“It shall be done as you say,” the innkeeper replied.

“Good. My people will settle the bill. The stay was faultless except for the lumpy bedding. Fix that.” Xefwen frowned in our direction. “Also, don’t let people overnight who don’t have rooms. It’s tasteless.”

“Of course, Honored Hierophant, the issue with the bedding will be addressed. As for these people, they were the ones unhoused by the explosion.” The innkeeper bowed, his hands signing an apology.

“Ah, it couldn’t be helped then. Good thinking to put them somewhere safe. Nothing can impede the start of the race.”

“The saboteurs—” the innkeeper began.

But the hierophant waved the problem away. “I assure you the problem will be settled.”

I noted staff moving near the kitchens, and there were others coming downstairs following after the innkeeper. These were straightening their uniforms as if they’d hurriedly put them on. One came over to ask we clear our sleeping place, a formality since we were already packing up.

When had the hierophant arrived, though? None of us had spotted him during our stay. Maybe there was a VIP entrance? The staff scrambled as more instructions were handed out. Apparently, a stage needed to be pulled from storage early and moved out to the plaza.

Closer in, Mumu publicly organized our expedition’s departure, while she privately sent, ‘Eight, focus on the hierophant. The rest of us will discuss the change in plans.’

Will do, I sent back, then cast Owl’s Ears to continue listening to Xefwen’s instructions to the staff.

He said, “I want the stage placed to the west, so that the racers see me bathed by the sun’s first light.”

The innkeeper replied, “But your instructions were that the participants should depart for Old Baxteiyel before then.”

“Just so,” Xefwen said, pausing. “It is more important. For now, let’s do that. Are the supplies I’ve brought ready? They were difficult to procure.”

“The Wholesome Ox will not fail you, Honored Hierophant. The feathers will be distributed to every participant as you instructed.”

He nodded. “Then let’s move on. I’m hungry. Bring something to the private dining room.” With that, the hierophant disappeared through a door I’d not gone through before.

I followed, yet none of the staff seemed to mind. Rather, they took my desire to eavesdrop for granted. Except the door was locked, and all I caught was a muffled, “Send my things after me.”

“The porters assigned are the best we have—”

And then another door shut, one which must’ve been sound proofed because Owl’s Ears didn’t pick up anything else.

On the other hand, I heard from upstairs the sound of people clapping and announcing that the race would be starting two days early. Anyone wishing to participate must gather in the plaza immediately.

Mumu came to stand beside me. “We have two paths ahead of us. We will either wait in the common room until Albei’s hunters descend, and join them when they depart for the plaza. Or we will stay in place to watch the inn’s guests pass by, hoping you recognize the spirit of our assailant. What did you hear? Does it lead us down one path or the other?”

“All I picked up was that the hierophant will also be traveling,” I answered. “My guess is that it’s to Old Baxteiyel. No, it’s more likely to be Fort Olana. That’s where it’ll be safer, and he can observe the racers’ progress from there. He also mentioned something about a feather—a symbol of some kind or a way to keep track of the racers maybe.”

‘Nothing about the Maltrans and their attack on our expedition?’ Mumu sent via Yuki, and I felt the frustration underlying her thoughts.

No, I thought in reply. His priorities are elsewhere.

Mumu sent, ‘How long was he here? A day, two, even longer? And for his secrecy’s sake, he didn’t do anything to help us? Enough, we will take matters into our own hands.’

I nodded. That’s also my read on the situation.

“We’ll stay in the common room until all the other guests pass through it,” Mumu said. Then, to me and the others on our team, she sent, ‘We will find our prey and end them here if we can.’