Ruthless: Path of Conquest

Mina felt a harsh tension impose itself on the air in the community center.

She saw how Cyrus locked eyes with James, and she realized suddenly that Cyrus was using an ability of some sort. In the fraction of a second before some unknown disaster befell them, she opened her mouth—and it was too late.

Cyrus’s eyes closed, and his body seemed to go limp even as he remained on his feet.

James’s eyes glowed a bright golden color, as it had in the forest on the night they killed the Wraiths—his eyes seemed to have a permanent golden hue now, which Mina was still getting used to, but they did not always glow. His body simply sat, as still as a statue, in place.

Mina did not shake him or try to get James’s attention at all. She had no idea how this Skill worked, or whether she would make things better or worse if she attempted to interfere. She could only hope that James would be able to power through whatever it was.

She felt helpless.

She looked fiercely around the room, her eyes scanning for traitors or collaborators—anyone who she could take her sudden anger out on. How could these people come into their land and do this to her husband? He was trying to take them in!

Her visual search was unsatisfying.

There were no obvious guilty faces, and no one was looking back at Mina in response to her hawk-like stare. Cyrus’s followers instead stared back and forth between their leader and James as if confused about what was going on.

Perhaps they did not even know that this was an ability of their Prophet’s rather than something that James had done.

If the monotheists were confused, the council was mildly panicked.

“Is the King being assaulted?” asked Rotter in a harsh whisper.

Mina nodded and hissed, “Yes!”

Of course he’s being assaulted! I thought you were smart.

She tried to force herself to calm down as discussion took place around her.

“Cyrus was doing something funny with his eyes, I think,” Leo said.

“I think maybe you’d better arrest him, then,” Dave replied.

Mina reflexively wanted to agree with that, but she forced herself to think carefully about it.

“No,” she said quietly. “We don’t know what’s going on yet. The room is full of Cyrus’s coreligionists, though. This situation could get—”

She wanted to say, It could get out of hand, but James had already been attacked directly. The situation seemed out of control already.

“We should wait to see what happens to him and James,” Zora suggested, looking at Mina carefully.

Mina nodded. Thank you.

It was a relief, this time, that Zora was here and had remained in command of her feelings.

The light in the room dimmed for a moment—by what cause, Mina was at a loss to say—and a sound like a thunderclap resounded through the space.

Then James sprang back to life. He twisted his neck back and forth, cracking it as if he had been still for a long time, though it had been only a minute. Then he rose to his feet.

His movements seemed almost manic. Too energetic, even for someone who had always been so full of vigor.

“James, are you okay?” Mina asked, her voice shaking slightly.

“Fine, I’m fine.” He sounded slightly confused, as if tired or mildly intoxicated. A light sheen of sweat coated his forehead, and his breathing sounded as if he had been swimming deep underwater for too long. He looked around wildly as if reacclimating himself to the room.

Then his gaze turned back to Cyrus, and James’s eyes and lips changed. His handsome features twisted into a snarl. Then he bent his knees and leaped suddenly through the air—the movement was so quick that Mina could barely follow it with her eyes—and landed on the ground level, a few feet in front of Cyrus.

At almost the same moment, Cyrus fell to his knees. He was bleeding from his eyes, ears, and mouth and clutching at his throat.

Despite the gruesome scene, Cyrus made almost no noise—as if his fall took place in a supernatural cone of silence.

James had taken a step forward, but he stopped as Cyrus collapsed.

In the intervening moment, Cyrus’s right-hand man, Christopher Smith, rushed forward to stand between his leader and James.

Mina could not see James’s face, but she could tell from the way his posture stiffened that he was still angry, despite Cyrus already being in terrible shape.

James spoke up loudly, so that everyone in the room could hear him. “I offered you hospitality, and your leader repaid me by trying to control my mind. You—” He tilted his head at Smith—“take him and get out. Anyone else who wants to follow them, you can also get out of the Kingdom. Be gone by sundown. Those who wish to stay, gather your families and prepare to take the citizenship oath, word for word, this evening.” He pointed at Cyrus, who was clearly suffering in his position on the floor, clawing at his own eyes by the time James gestured to him. “Don’t take this decision lightly. I will hold you to your promises, if you decide to stay. And this is what happens to traitors.”

He turned his back contemptuously on Cyrus—and, by extension, on his followers—and strode confidently back up the aisle toward the platform he had just jumped down from.

To everyone else, Mina imagined James probably looked indignant. But she saw the clear fatigue on his face. Even as he tried to keep his expression disciplined and his posture ramrod straight, there was something hollow in the way he moved, something exhausted in his expression.

Is he going to be all right? she wondered. What did that bastard do to him?

Cyrus’s followers—or, in some cases, Mina realized, former followers—were muttering to themselves from all corners of the room besides the area with the stage. But their eyes weren’t on James anymore. They were talking amongst themselves or looking at Cyrus with varying shades of horror on their faces.

Mina’s read of the room might not have been perfect, but she sensed a shift in their loyalties. Even if some of them were attached to the idea of a state that embodied their religious preferences, did they really support Cyrus’s effort at mind control to achieve that goal?

And even if some of them did support trying to control the Ruler from behind the scenes, Cyrus had failed. Perhaps they needed to be more pragmatic. Their Prophet was still bleeding from his eyes, ears, and mouth, though the flow was slowing. It was a powerful sign of what happened when a plot like this failed.

They were lucky that James had not ordered the lot of them summarily executed.

She guessed that few of these people would stand by Cyrus now that his power—and even physical health—seemed to be on the wane. He might even be dying, Mina realized, though it was hard for her to care. Whatever Cyrus had done had clearly had a big effect on James. That was her only concern right now.

A few of the followers were already getting up and leaving. Those who left did not stop and check how Cyrus was doing before they passed through the double doors.

That’s the thing about leaders, she thought as James stepped onto the stage. You can’t see them become weak. Even if they were chosen as leaders for their wisdom or something non-physical like that. People like strong leaders. If they get badly weakened, something primitive about our brains keeps us from seeing them the same way again.

James walked back over to his place at the table and managed to take his seat in a dignified way. He even remained sitting upright, rather than slumping forward or leaning on the table for support. But as Mina took his hand, she could feel that his pulse was erratic.

I need to get these people out of here…

Then James could rest, and she could try to heal him.

Is that a burn on his face? Now that he was beside her again, she saw a small burn mark on his cheek. It was already probably smaller than it had been, given James’s healing abilities, but it was strange that she had not noticed it earlier.

Did he get it from fighting Cyrus somehow?

“I did warn you.” Bear rumbled from the space on stage behind the council members. Everyone in the room could hear his words, though he had not raised his voice.

Mina’s emotions were still running high, but she thought quickly of how she could use that remark to her advantage.

“You, shut up!” she yelled at Bear. The masked man jumped. “Everyone else, please just get out of here. I—I need a few minutes alone with my husband. He was just attacked!”

Members of Cyrus’s group who had not already risen quickly got to their feet, lowered their heads, and in some cases muttered what sounded like quiet apologies for their leader’s behavior under their breath.

Those who had been on their feet moved out more quickly than they had been.

And council members rose from their seats, too. Some of them left without a word.

Nearly all looked in James’s direction with curiosity or concern before they left. Mina tried to ignore them or dissuade them with body language.

Others tried approaching Mina, offering help if she and James needed it

She shut them down with the most brusque, “I’m fine” she could muster each time, though in her heart, she was grateful.

Thank you, Leo. Thank you, Dave. Thank you, Jeremiah, even though I’m still iffy on whether I trust you at all or not.

She just wanted people to leave as quickly as possible, so that James could pass out.

She could see from the way that his eyes were blinking that he might fall asleep in his seat at any moment, and she knew he would not want anyone to see that.

The masked man looked in her and James’s direction and nodded slowly, as if he had just figured -out what was happening. Then he withdrew from the stage.

Zora rose from her place uncertainly, but Mina grabbed her by the sleeve.

“No, not you,” she whispered.

Zora was the only other person there who would understand the situation and be on James’s side. The two women exchanged small smiles as Zora nodded and sat back down.

The rest of the room cleared out quickly. The last ones to go were a few of the religious folks who had stayed to help Cyrus walk out of the room. The Prophet was clearly still disoriented, but his legs worked.

So he still has some loyalists after all, Mina thought. Or at least people who feel sorry for him.

It was hard to resent that too much. The former leader cut a pitiful figure, moving like a puppet with its strings cut—and with blood all over his shirt, as if James had not just beaten his mind control gambit but also delivered a violent beating.

What exactly did James do to him? she wondered. This was no ability she had ever seen or heard her husband describe. It was as if James had just reached out and gouged out Cyrus’s eyes—and maybe stabbed him in the ears and plucked out his tongue?—but that was like no Skill Mina had ever seen. Then again, perhaps she was overthinking this. It could simply be a sort of psychic backlash from Cyrus’s own Skill failing to work on James. Powerful abilities were probably more costly than more commonplace Skills.

As the doors closed behind them, Zora quickly moved down to the ground level and went to lock them.

James slumped backward in his seat.

“Everyone’s gone now, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” Mina said, nodding. “What happened, skapi? Are you hurt anywhere that I can heal?”

His weary eyes finally closed, and Mina felt his pulse almost immediately slow down.

James had passed out.

“I hope he wakes up soon,” Mina muttered, thinking out loud.

She had asked for a few minutes alone with her husband. If people returned now, or in a few minutes, they would see exactly what she had hoped to conceal.

“Let’s put him in your bag,” Zora said.

“What?” Mina asked, startled.

“James put a Dungeon Core in his bag and brought her here, right?” Zora asked.

Mina nodded.

“And it didn’t do any harm to her?”

“No, it didn’t,” Mina said. “Now that you mention it, I’ve seen that work for other living things too…” Her mind went to the Pixies from her Orientation. “So that’s how we’ll sneak him away!”

Zora smiled. “I think it’s our best bet. Our James—” She shook her head—“always getting himself into trouble.”

Mina felt like she should probably defend him from that comment somehow, but she just laughed instead. It was true. As much as James tended to rescue others from danger, he also had a way of finding trouble for himself.

They attempted to lift James together, but his dense, muscular body was too heavy. Finally, Mina just opened her Small Bag of Deceptive Dimensions as wide as she could and shoved the mouth over James’s head, and the bag seemed to take the hint.

It sucked James inside it like a cartoon or video game item.

Then they were able to sneak him out and back to the apartment.

Once they were back inside, Mina took the bag to the bedroom and removed James from the bag—there was a funny moment, after she reached in to pull him out, when he floated in the air an inch or two above the bed after he came out of the bag, and then crashed down with all his weight.

Somehow that did not wake him.

Mina tucked him in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

And James slept for the next two hours.