Session 27: Skreek Squawking in My Head, Cure That is Hurting More than Injury, Confessing to Grandfather, Excellent Plan Not Working, Bartley and Idiot Lightkeepers, Someone Fucking with My Gnome, Kisha, Bloodwater, Kisha, Unseen Monk Assholes, Kisha

General Summary

Alyona to Skreek: Why have you not checked in, Bird? Are you dead? You better not be dead -- it will make Grandfather too happy.
Skreek to Alyona: Am doing fine, avoiding cities, everybody. Taking longer than I thought. I want to be there right now. Surprised you have magic to check in.
Alyona to Skreek: Have you forgotten who has other sending stone, dummy? How much further do you have to go? At least you are out there flying!

It is hard thing, taking this time to heal scars on my back. Part of me is thinking Alyona, why have you let the vanity stop you from going after Kisha right away? And I have to tell stupid brain "You shut fuck up and get back to making plan how to find her!"
It is not vanity that is making me lay here on stomach all day for week. Ok, little bit vanity. But mostly it is that person is out there, you know, person who ordered Aleorman to do this. They had reason to do it, right? Maybe it was just to put their fucking mark on me, how should I be knowing? But there are easier ways to do that. I mean, they could have just carved in their name if they were so fixed on the cutting. That would have been fucking straightforward thing to do. But no, they went through trouble of marking me this way. Why?
It is obvious that symbol they carved into my back and strange crystal nightshade ball I saw in Czerno, these are same. I am thinking they are part of fucked up Sylvan ritual – ritual they did to me, ritual they did to Skreek’s brother, maybe. And whatever is result of ritual (and probably you and I are both having guess what that thing is) it is bad, bad news if they are completing it. No. Scars must be gone as soon as is possible, especially now that we are back in territory of Unseen.
So that is why I am stuck here, laying on face, being bored and hurting. Only things I have to keep me busy are plotting how to find Kisha, reading dirty gnome “romance” novels, and once every day using sending stone to check on Skreek.
Fucking Skreek. This bird, he is driving me crazy. At least ten times per day, I am agreeing with Grandfather that we should just whack him and get it over with. And yet, still, he is flying around completely un-whacked. I do not understand it.
Instead, here I am actually worrying about asshole! I mean, will we ever get to make fun of him again to his stupid bird face? I have doubts. We both know that promises mean nothing when fear has taken over, and he is very, very scared for Mama Bird. I think there is super good chance he gets it into tiny brain to go try to save her by himself, and that is just basically self-whacking.
Ok, ok, yes I admit that this is bothering me. Little bit. But, what can I do? I am not Mama Bird, and it is not my job to keep Skreek alive when he insists on chasing death. Except, I guess maybe it is being my job now? But only when we are actually fighting people, right? I am not on hook for life saving when someone goes crazy and does suicide mission, am I? Hmmm. Maybe I should have asked Boggie to go into more detail about what is job description, but you know Boggie — it is always talking in riddles, and calling me child, and really it is not very good communicator at all.

Skreek to Alyona: Flying feels good! I'm near the coast and I feel the sea mist on my face and the air is cool and I can see
Alyona to Skreek: See what? See what? We talked about this, Skreek. Do you remember what I said? You have to count your words or you will run
Skreek to Alyona: Hahahaha. I could see home. I am here now, home. I worried I might never see it again. Tomorrow I get to the crater. Safe.
Alyona to Skreek: You're flying free and I'm here – Fuck! Grandfather! Watch what you are doing! – being tortured by old man who hates me. Are you at crater?
Skreek to Alyona: Made it safely to crater without incident. Portal perfectly intact. No sign of hardshells, unfortunately. I found something else to do instead.

While Grandfather and I spend days in his lab, doing healing, others they are very busy with cleaning and fun things like that. They decide to trade Lightkeepers some of junk we collected in Iallon for some spell scrolls. Ingoria is working on some kind of ambitious craft project, and all of us keep wondering where it is she has found so much glitter in ancient Sylvan ruin. Skreek has not yet reached Bird Island. And Baermek… Baermek is doing whatever it is he does now.
Ok, so let me just tell you – Hobgoblin, he has lost his stories and also his cool. It is not like ever he was happy guy or anything, but he was only adult we had in group, and now he is stupid, impulsive teenager with serious anger issues, just like rest of us. (I mean, some of us are actual teenagers, so it is to be expected, right? I do not know what everyone else is excused for). No, I will be honest, I do not care for changes in him, not at all. But Grandfather thinks it is great that he is now even more of asshole – which tells you everything you need to know about Grandfather and also new, improved Baermek.
Alyona to Skreek: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? Please, please, tell me it is not stupid thing. [pause] It is stupid thing, isn’t it? [another pause, resigned voice] Try not to die.
Skreek to Alyona: It's not stupid. I spotted something interesting. That's what I do. I want to try something. Ok, it might be stupid. Maybe. It's risky.
Alyona to Skreek: Glupaya chertova ptitsa. Ty Snova podnimesh’ svoyu zadnitsu v vozdukh! Ne ostanavlivaysya. Ne yesh’. Ne spat’. Seychas zhe doma, mudak. Klyanus’*

Five days of healing bullshit done, and it has been just as shitty and painful as was promised. But scars are only covering smallest part of my back now. One, or maybe two days more, and they will be gone from me completely.
It has not been simple matter, this healing. I mean, I was not expecting it to be easy-peasy, but even I am surprised at how stupid horrible it has been, and always I am expecting worst possible thing, right? We must do magics to remove old skin – whatever was in bottle of stuff Aleorman threw on my back after cutting, it worked too good at making scars permanent. So now I am getting lovely experience of being flayed with the magics, little bit by little bit. And then, from underneath, we pull new skin out, new skin that does not exist until we will it to exist. I cannot tell you where exactly it comes from in my body, but I can feel bones and organs scream as it is wrenched out of their mass and laid out across muscles of my back. Grandfather and I, we do not have the magic that is gentle or kind; it is not like tingles, or bubbles, or slipping into warm bathtub. It is more like punching you in face until you stop being idiot and heal. Which is to say, whole process is not being experience I would recommend.
But in between screaming and cursing and wanting to die, I have also had much time each day to think as I try to recuperate. And I have had idea about how to find Kisha. It is, I think, good plan, but there is little problem; I do not want to tell Grandfather.
“Watch the head,” Truffle says. “She’ll probably bite.” Grandfather nods, checking my neck, my elbow, the back of my hand. He pauses when he sees my naked ring finger.
“Tell me Granddaughter,” he says, not meeting my eyes. “Where is your mother’s ring? What has happened?”
I’m not going to admit that fucking bitch Kisha took it from me. And I’m not about to waste an opportunity to plunge the knife in again, either. “Try checking the fucking sewer, old man!” I snarl.

"Grandfather,” I say with sigh. I have to tell him, I can think of no other way. “I've been thinking about Kisha, how to find her..."
He is at his desk, slumped over, head resting on his forearms. (I do not know what he has to be so tired about – was he one having skin removed from body? No, he was not!) He lifts head slightly, but does not turn to look at me directly. "Tell me, what thoughts have you had about this?" he asks.
I open mouth to speak, but it feels almost like it is physical impossibility to say these things. There is too much shame – shame that it happened, shame that I need help to fix it. Words are locked in my throat, refusing to come out, not until I get behind and push, like freeing wagon stuck in mud. "Grandfather… I might not have been entirely… um… honest with you."
His eyes dart to look at me, just a quick glance, then away again. The corner of his mouth tightens, but when he responds, his voice is steady, measured. "Go on, Alyona. I'm listening. What haven't you been honest about?"
I let my head drop down onto table with loud thunk. Fuck, I did not mean it to be so loud, and for minute I want to just laugh and laugh. It is ridiculous. Everything is ridiculous. “It is that night. You know… that night I left the Academy and came home to…” I do not lift head from table, but both arms float up in shrug.
“Yes, Granddaughter. I know,” he says, still calm, at least in voice. I feel gratitude, which is unusual feeling for me to feel when it comes to Grandfather.
“You asked me…” I pause, then words come out in whisper. “You asked me where Mama’s ring was.”
He takes moment to consider this. His voice carries hint of concern. "I did ask about the ring, yes. What's the matter, Granddaughter?"
“I told you I threw it in the sewer but…”
“Yes, go on.”
“Kisha,” the man says softly. “The ring.”
I fight, but there’s just nothing left. Death has stolen it from me. The ring is quickly stripped from my finger, along with most of the skin.
Kisha turns to hand it to the man, but he reaches out to curl her fingers over the ring, pushing it slightly toward her. “You keep it, dearest. A memento,” he tells her, and his lips curl into a cruel smile as he looks at me over her shoulder.
“Kisha took it,” I whisper. “Kisha has the ring.”
I lift my head to glance at Grandfather, just as he turns to look at me. He studies my face intently, and I am trying to not show anything. I want to look away, but I do not.
"Then I will very much enjoy watching you remove it from her lifeless finger," he says finally, face expressionless.
I make little surprised laugh and push myself up on elbows, so I can see him better. Goddamn, it hurts like motherfucker. “Yes, I promised Mama the day Kisha took it, that I would be retrieving it from her corpse,” I tell him. “But for right now, I think we can use the ring to track her with that spell, the one Skreek used to find the cryptoporter. She’ll be wearing it; I can promise you that. Find the ring, we find her.”
Grandfather nods and little smile creeps across his face – that smile that is just before someone, or maybe many someones, is winding up dead.

Skreek to Alyona: Not sure about your last message. I think you were maybe casting a spell? The risk paid off! It's really really cool! New friends!
Alyona to Skreek: Do I even ask? (Long suffering sigh) Ok, who is new friends you met in jungle. Oh wait… It is lizard guy, right? Can you even speak lizard?
Skreek to Alyona: Alyona! You wouldn't believe it! It was so worth it! I wish you could see! They love us! They worship us! Not enough words.
Alyona to Skreek: Yes, this is impression I have gotten. I am questioning what is usefulness of grecko for allies -- their judgment is maybe not so good.

Scars are gone, thank fucking god, and now it is we are just waiting for Skreek to return. I can again use magics for sendings and other things, instead of just for healing. I reach out one more time to Truffle to see if there is anything more he can tell me about Unseen situation or Kisha’s operation, but it has been long time since he has left Novo, and there is being nothing more he can tell me.
Then I talk more with Mama Bird, and she tells me that it was six months ago that she was captured, same time as when Sylvans took over court of birds. Her friend that we met – Ka’hu’i of Cloud Aerie – was killed. I guess he was not being useful bait for us. Bad luck, Ka’hu’i.
Sylvans at first were asking her so many questions about all of us but, she says, they stopped months ago because they were not certain if even we still lived. They know we went into time bubble, but they are not sure when, or if, we have come out again. I am guessing they will know answer to this question soon, if they are not knowing it already. I am not sure what this is meaning for Mama Bird.
But get this! I have extra magic and nothing to do with it, so I waste some to ask Mama Bird about embarrassing stories she can tell me about Skreek. And you know what? She is telling me one! It is how, when he was little chick, never could he remember to lift his legs up when he was flying and then he, ha ha ha, he shit all over his feet. Many times this happened!
Oh Boggie, why do you shower such gifts upon me? I cannot wait to mention this to Skreek. Probably I will mention it about million times. At least.
Others do things which are not half so amusing with these days of waiting. Ingoria takes big bag of gold and goes into town to do shopping. She buys weapons and potions and things like that. Also she buys materials for grandfather to make continuous flame spells so we do not have to be always in dark here. Boring, but I suppose it is usefulness.
Hey! You know what other cool thing it is I can do now that I am cleric? I can turn people who are wererats back into normal, not disgusting, people again. Baermek is little bit hesitant because I guess part of him likes to be rat? I do not know. But he finally decides to let me uncurse him, so I do, because I do not need to be dealing with this rat bullshit again. Ingoria is so happy to not be rat she starts rubbing her head on me, which is just fucking weird. There is something very wrong with these assholes. That is all I am saying.

Skreek to Alyona: I'm back to the mainland. Getting tired. Should be there tomorrow maybe. Grecko can provide intelligence if not arms. Maybe sabotage or distractions.
Alyona to Skreek: It is good you have not been TOO stupid. (pause) I did not know if you would come back. I thought maybe you would not.
Skreek to Alyona: Was a risk, but worth taking. If it went bad I fly away... I thought about going to find...but I promised to kill Keesha.
Alyona to Skreek: You and me, Skreek. We hunt down our enemies and kill them ALL. (pause) Now what is this (muffled laughter)about not lifting your legs when you fly?
Skreek to Alyona:(Seething silence)

And finally Skreek is back. As soon as he walks in door, I smack him on back of his head and un-wererat him. I am not even asking permission. Did he ask permission to try to eat me? No, he did not.
I can be telling that Mama Bird’s imprisonment is still weighing on him, and why would it not be? But still, he seems little bit easier after his long flight. And now. – whatever is everyone's fucked up mental state – all of us are together again, and it is time to head to Freehold to kill Kisha.
First thing, of course, is to find fucking bitch. Grandfather takes little walk around town, casting spell and seeing if he gets any hits on ring. He does not. You can imagine my reaction — it is not happy one. I cannot believe she would not be wearing it, especially now when she knows I am so close. She will want me to know, she will want me to see. It does not make sense to me. Maybe it is, she is somewhere that spell cannot reach? I know that it cannot get through some metals and things. Maybe this is reason?
Grandfather finishes disappointing me by around lunchtime, so at least he is efficient, I guess. I say many curses, and maybe throw one or two little things in frustration, and then we decide next thing to do is talk to GG.
Walking toward building where GG’s new fancy office is, we see that there are half dozen Lightkeeper types huddled out front. Some of them are busy writing down things, and all of them look very, very worried. As we get closer, they are giving us the side-eye looks now, and becoming even more agitated. Because of us? Why? I mean, I could see them freaking out if they knew us, but I am not recognizing any of these guys, so there is no reason for the hysterics.
“What’s going on? Are we taking notes?” Ingoria asks them brightly.
“That’s confidential Lightkeeper business,” says one, in stuffy kind of way.
Meanwhile, Grandfather and I just keep walking past them to entrance of building. Three of Lightkeepers break off from huddle and move to stop us from going through door. Human guy holds up his hand and says “I’m sorry, but the building is closed.”
“I have seen these ones before,” Grandfather mutters to me under his breath. “That one there, the human, is called Bartley, I believe.” Louder, he says, “What is going on? Why is building closed?”
This Bartley guy clears his throat before speaking. “Let me just start by saying, if you cause any trouble here you will be removed from the premises.” He gives each of us stern look. “And to answer your question, you can’t go into the building because it’s an active crime scene.”
What is this?!
“Is GG ok?” I demand and I feel my fingers twitch with magics that are stirring up inside of me.
“Ye-esssss,” he says. Ok, that was not good kind of straight forward yes. That was bad, drawn out, you-are-not-going-to-like-this yes.
“How can we help?” Grandfather asks, like he is upright citizen just doing civic duty. I would laugh if I was not so worried about Little Man.
“Please just stay calm and stay out of the way while we conduct this investigation.” Bartley says, and he sweeps arm out toward guest quarters, like invitation to fuck off.
“Where is GG, asshole?!” I politely decline invitation. “You send him out right fucking now to talk to me!” Other Lightkeepers shuffle around, taking on more defensive stances.
“I’m afraid that’s impossible at the moment,” Bartley tells me, and to give him little bit of credit, he is not looking like he will back down. (Credit for bravery maybe, but take away credit for being very stupid. So altogether, Bartley gets big, fat zero on this test.)
“Why?” I growl.
“This,” he gestures to building behind him, “is an active crime scene.”
Why is he repeating himself? “Tell me where the fuck GG is!” I shout.
He takes small step back, but he does not move away from door. He puts up hand to say calm down, calm down. “Please, if you would all retire back to the apartments, after I have gathered a bit more information, I will come and tell you what is going on.”
“No,” I snarl. “You tell me what is going on right fucking now!” and I can feel there is chill pouring off of me. I see Grandfather glance over at me. Corner of his mouth quirks up with pleasure, and his hands flex at his sides, ready to start some shit.
Bartley is not missing these signs either. He sighs, leans in closer to us and says in low voice, “Look… Silar was… well, he was murdered last night.”
Well, fuck, that was not thing I was expecting.
“And you think GG was involved?” Grandfather says, brow furrowing. This is fucking ridiculous question! GG?!
But Bartley does not seem to think it is ridiculous. He is looking very uncomfortable now, but he just repeats himself. “If you could please just return to the apartments…”
I throw up hands in so much frustration. Fine. We go to apartments. If he will not tell us, I will just ask GG directly.
Couple of guys follow us there, not even pretending not to. We can see as we enter building that they set up outside so they can keep track of where we are. This is fine, whatever.
As soon as we reach rooms, even before door is open, I send message to GG, “Silar is fucking murdered?!! And they think you are somehow involved? GG, what is happening? We are going to get you out!!”
Answer comes back. GG sounds frightened and confused. “No! Don't! I don't know what happened, maybe I did? I don't know, it's very confusing. They just…”
I am about to send another message to him, when Skreek, calls out from over by mirror. “Alyona, you need to look at this!”
Clenching my fists and closing eyes for second, I turn and walk toward where he is standing. He does not say anything more, just directs me to look at mirror, where, there, on surface, so faint almost I can not see it, is…
…is fucking kiss mark.
Kisha.
Kisha did this.
Kisha is behind murder of Silas, behind GG being in trouble.
Kisha's face. Inches from mine. Her hands on either side of my head, her body poised over me like a lover's. There is sweat dripping down her forehead and I feel a drop land at the corner of my eye. It runs down the side of my face, mixing with my own tears. The intimacy makes my stomach turn.
She studies me for a moment — her eyes taking in the cuts, the bruises, the burns, measuring them against the weight of her own injuries — before taking a quick glance over her shoulder. Turning back with a sly smile, she whispers conspiratorially, "They say I'm not supposed to kill you." Then she presses her cheek to mine, bringing her mouth right next to my ear, "But they also say it is better to ask forgiveness than permission."
She plants a soft kiss on my cheek before abruptly pushing away. With a vicious yank, she tears the knife out of my shoulder and immediately slams it back down into my stomach.
I scream in pain as she laughs, but the only thing I can think is finally finally final-
I reach hand out toward mirror…
“We need to get out of here,” Baermek says.
My fingers tremble slightly as I drag them down slick surface, smearing her mark.
“Alyona,” he says, grabbing me by my shoulder, “We need to get out of here now. They’re going to arrest us.”
“W-w-what?” I ask, still staring at mirror..
He does not respond, just whirls me around so I can see rest of group grabbing belongings, getting ready to leave. I shake head to clear of it of memories that have make me feel like I am about to sick up breakfast. Go? Yes, yes, we must go.
Grandfather looks at me, expression concerned. “Granddaughter, you are coming?”
“Of course,” I say, scooping up bag where I dropped it just few minutes ago, and striding toward door. I am proud I can be so cool, when inside I am nothing but fucking ball of rage.

*****

To Bloodwater we go. Always Bloodwater. Have I been mentioning how much I fucking hate Bloodwater?
Guys who were outside guest quarters watching us, follow us to ferry and no further. Ferry ride itself is uneventful, and we get off at docks, where everything is pretty normal – which is to say, nasty and smelly.
We are, all of us, looking around (but trying not to be too obvious) to see if anyone has made note of us. Nobody seems to care we have arrived, but still we are keeping close watch, and making efforts to shake any tails we have picked up. We head to nearby warehouse, where we can lay low until we can figure out what to do. Skreek and Ingoria notice along way that, where there are usually signs to say which gang is controlling which territory, all of them have been replaced now by eye of The Unseen.
Kisha has been busy little bee.
Once we find place to hide out, Grandfather makes disguise spell and heads off to some tavern called The Murky Waters, to see if he can talk to local smugglers. When he comes back he tells us he has secured safehouse for us for one week, and that smugglers were telling him how rough it is to be independent operators right now, what with Unseen crawling up their asses. I do not doubt this. I am impressed they have held out this long honestly, because when Unseen take over territory, it is fast, and it is bloody, and then there are no more independents.
“Get your ass out of there right now, kid,” I growl.
The child, maybe three or four years old at the most, climbs slowly out of the wardrobe. She is staring at the body on the floor – her mother? Her aunt? Doesn’t matter. Whoever the fuck she was, she’s dead now. I hold the blade in my hand, not even trying to hide it. What would be the point?
A door down the hall splinters and crashes open. A man yells, but it’s cut off by the click and twang of a crossbow releasing, and the inevitable meaty thunk a split second later. I can’t hear it from here, but I will fucking guarantee you that Sonja is singing quietly to herself under her breath – it’s the same goddamn lullabye, every goddamn time.
What can I say? We’re all fucked up in our own unique ways.
For me, it is this moment – this brief moment when I look down into the kid’s eyes, as she trembles and weeps, and I hear a whisper of Mama’s voice. It says no. It says stop. It says my love, my love, do not… But her voice is so quiet now, flimsy and threadbare with time. I can barely hear it over the others – the ones who give the orders, the ones who make the threats. The ones who sound like Grandfather – so cool, so dispassionate, as he sent me to the wolves.

I wait for her to run; it’s so much easier when they run. But she doesn’t, stupid kid. Really, it’s surprising how often they don’t even fight it, how often they just offer up their little necks. Why couldn’t I have been more like them? It would have hurt a whole fucking lot less.
But shit, you can only be yourself, right? And some of us were meant to survive. Just not this one. I’ll make it quick, same as always. That’s the best I can do.
Hard, fast, done. Go on now kid, your mama’s waiting for you.
Sonja strolls past the door, looks in and gives me a grin as she passes. “Spi-spi-spi. Ne lezhite blizko k krovati Inache pridet seryy volk I ukusit' tebya**,” she sings loudly as she clomps down the stairs – no more need to for stealth in this house of the dead. I shudder at her off-key warbling. Stone cold killer, our Sonja, with a voice to match.
I step over to the washstand by the door to clean my blade on the stack of worn linens lying there. A cheap mirror hangs over the basin, and I stare at myself for a moment. Pretty girl. Wash off the blood, put me in a fancy dress, twist my hair up with gold and pearls, and I could be any one of the young women I have watched from the shadows — watched with idle curiosity as I prepared to kill their mothers, their fathers, their siblings, their friends.
If Mama had only stayed where she belonged…
if Grandfather had only kept me close…
In that other life, it could have been me flirting and dancing, my body unscarred, my eyes still bright with hope, laughter on my lips, ignorance in my heart.
Such a pretty girl...
Ha! What a fucking drag that would have been!
I wink at the girl in the mirror and she smirks back. Glancing down briefly as I step over the small corpse, I sigh.
When the fuck is someone else gonna pass Sergei’s sick little test?! I’m getting tired of always having to be on clean up. Damn it, I need something higher profile; something that will make a splash.
Oh no! you say. This is so terrible! This is thing only monster would do. Yeah, yeah. I have never told lies to you, asshole. This is who I was. This is who I am. And I am telling you this now so that you are understanding. There are dozens more of me out there, hundreds maybe – Academy trained assassins, refined in bloody halls of Upstairs. Most of these have far more training than ever I have. And less conscience.
Look, Unseen agents we have fought up until now? They are nothing but washouts and has-beens. They are ones who never made cut. Worse is coming now, so much worse. These smugglers, they are living on borrowed time.
And so, if still I am being honest with you, are we.

*****

Unseen eye is everywhere and, for now at least, Unseen eye is Kisha’s eye. We cannot stay here in unsecured warehouse; we must get to bolthole Grandfather has found for us. It is risky, yes, but what is not risky for us right now?
We do not bother with disguises – what is point if not all of us can be hidden? Skreek takes to air and rest of head out of warehouse on foot. And this is when shit gets little bit, let us say, hairy.
This is not reasy thing to be admitting, but, even though we are all very much on guard, still it is that they get drop on us. From up in building ahead of us there is twang of crossbow, and bolt hits Grandfather hard. Then second one hits him. Baermek is hit also, but does some fancy thing with his shield to keep one from hitting me as well. Thanks, I guess, asshole.
Hey, you know what is even worse that getting jumped by bunch of Kisha’s Downstairs dipshits? It is that they are all doing things that once I could do! They have had some of training like I did – they are catching arrows and running super fast and wailing on us with fists – but they must be teaching them new things down there, because when one of them casts the darkness on us, all other monks, it seems like they can still see to fight!
Really, I had no idea how annoying monks were until I was not one anymore.
Still, these are not ones I was talking about before, ones who worry me so much. These are Kisha’s idiots, and none of these sorry assholes even knew they had been found lacking. So, it is hard fight — and for little while, it is only Grandfather and I who are still standing — but finally it is down to last two assholes, and they take off like cowards that they are. One of them I kill with super fun death touch. Other one Ingoria knocks out.
Thank you to Boggie, I now have ability where I can touch bodies, and make them into nothing but little piles of dust. I cannot tell you how handy this would have been so many times!. After I clean up scene, we tie unconscious one up and drag him with us to where is safehouse. We are not too worried anymore about anyone watching us – everyone in area is either dead or run off. This is effect we have on people, I know.

*****

When loser asshole wakes up from little nap, there we are at safehouse staring at him. He scowls around at all of us and I can see in his eyes is determination not to talk. We could do torture, of course. That is always fun. But there is something new I have been wanting to try.
I lift arms up in front of me, grasping elbows with opposite hands. I slide hands along length of arm to where they can grasp hold of each other for moment, then they release outward in gesture of invitation. “Bystryye druz’ya,” I say with smile. (Smile is most important part. Also hardest to do.)
At first he looks at me, face still locked down like he is badass, but slowly, slowly he begins to smile back.
We sit there smiling at each other for minute, then I say to him in Elven, “So, what the fuck were we even fighting about back there?”
He gives me little grimace and shrugs. “Hey I’m sorry. I don’t know what you did, but you really managed to piss her off, whatever it was. We had orders to grab you and grandfather here, and bring you back to base.”
“Well that’s unfriendly.” I say, shaking head sadly. “What were you supposed to do with the rest of these assholes?” I point over to where others sit.
He leans forward and whispers, “Oh. Well, to tell you the truth, we were just supposed to take ‘em out. They’re not really any use to us. Sorry.”
I lean in as well. “They aren’t much use to me either,” I say with little chuckle. “Now, remind me please, who I managed to piss off so much?”
“Oh, oh, I thought you knew — it was Kisha, our leader. She hates you, man. I mean, she really fucking hates you.” He shakes his head in dismay. “Not sure why. You’re really not the bitch she keeps telling everyone you are.”
“Hates me?” I am all wounded innocence. It is bit of reach for me, but spell really helps questionable acting ability.
“Oh, fuck yeah! She’s always going on about you – how she’s going to find you, how’s she gonna kill you and then bring you back, so she can kill you all over again!” His eyebrows furrow, like he cannot imagine why someone would hate me this much – which is telling you just how strong this spell is. Five minutes with me, and most people are thinking very serious thoughts of prolonged violence.
“Well, shit. Huh. Maybe I should go have a little visit, see if I can patch things up with her. Do you know where I can find her?” I give him best, friendliest smile. I can see Grandfather in background, rolling eyes at my attempt, but I would like to see him do better.
“Yeah, yeah, good idea. I’m sure it’s all just a misunderstanding.” He smiles back, nodding. “Ok, so the base is outside of town to the southwest, maybe a couple of hours from here. It’s right before you reach that arm of the lake that leads to Novo. You know it?”
I nod. “Any defenses, I should be worried about?”
“Other than Kisha?” he laughs, and I laugh too, but it tastes sour in my mouth. “Ok, so the base is kinda nestled into these cliffs, right? And they’ve got a bunch of ballista up above, so you need to be careful approaching until you can clear things up with her. Wouldn’t want you to get shot over a misunderstanding!” He makes worried little laugh.
“No, no we wouldn’t want that.” Damn, this spell is being fucking handy! “Is there any other way in then, so I don't have to risk the ballista?”
He thinks for moment before shaking head sadly. “No… no, I’m sorry. As far as I know the only approach is by water.”
“Ask him how they found us,” Baermek interrupts in bossy way. I would like to ignore him, but it is very good question.
“Hey friend, tell me, how did you manage to track us down? We were keeping a pretty low profile I thought, until your guys started shooting at us.”
“I know, I know. I’m so sorry,” he says, looking upset for moment before perking back up. “But you gotta admit it’s pretty fucking clever what we did! So, we had this guy at the Lightkeepers (his name is, uh, Isador Gregorev, I think) and he’s kinda been keeping an eye on you. When you left, he followed you to the ferry and slipped a coin into the old man’s pocket. Coin was stamped with some kind of unique mark or something, which let our mages use a spell to locate it.”
I make little face. I cannot help it. “You’re right. That was clever. Good job.” Fuck me, how did we not see them on ferry? “But, look, there’s something else I need to know.” I squat down in front of him so we are looking directly in each other’s eyes. “Back at the Lightkeepers, there was a hit on some kind of bigwig, and they think my friend GG had something to do with it.” His smile fades and his eyes dart back and forth anxiously as soon as I am mentioning this. “Can you tell me what specs were on that job? Exactly?”
He goes to open mouth, and then closes it, and gets puzzled look on his face. He blinks few time, opens mouth again, pauses, and then it snaps shut. His eyes go hard.
Huh. Well, I guess we are not being besties anymore. This is disappointing. I stand back up and study him for moment. “Why don’t you answer my question, friend? It’s much better if we continue this discussion in a civil manner.”
Nothing.
“You sure this is how you want to play this? You know what’s coming next. “
He takes deep breath and closes eyes. Yes, he is knowing what comes next, but he does not talk.
I look over to corner of room where Grandfather is sitting on mat, meditating. “Grandfather!” I yell. “Hey Grandfather, snap out of it! Asshole here has forgotten how to make words. Want to come over here and help him remember?”
Grandfather opens one eye and looks at me for moment, before sighing and getting up off ground. It is not fast process.
I will give it to this asshole, he does not talk. Much time passes, and Grandfather does all his favorite tricks, but nothing. When finally I am sure that he will not be persuaded, I wave Grandfather off.
Unseen guy is big fucking mess now. His breath is coming in uneven hitches. He cannot stop shaking. There is blood and gore everywhere. I walk over to him, leaning over so I can tilt his chin up to me and stare right into his eyes. One is swollen closed and other is wandering and unfocused. No, he is not seeing anything anymore, but still, he knows that I am there.
“You get… nothing, bitch. Kisha is gonna… fuck you… fuck you up…so bad…”
“Ah, don’t be like that friend,” I say, voice like honey. “You’ve been so generous with the information. Really, I’m quite grateful. But listen, I want you to do one more little favor for me.”
“I’m not… doing… jackshit for you… bitch! You can…go… go fuck yourself!”
I smile a smile he cannot see, lean in, and whisper, “Tell Boggie I said hey.” Then I reach out and boop him on nose, releasing my magics into him.
His eyes go wide and his whole body spasms, heels drumming against floor. I stay right there, my face in front of his, watching, waiting. His chest rises and falls, once, twice, slower and slower, as his hands claw mindlessly at arms of chair. I swear I can hear sweet sound of his soul detaching from his body, one anchor point giving way after next, with sharp, little pings. Plink. Plink. Plink. Like music box winding down. And then his lips part, and his final breath escapes. It is sad little gray cloud that dribbles from his mouth, hangs there for moment, before slowly beginning to sink toward floor.
I smile and breathe in deep, devouring it.

---

*Stupid fucking bird. You get your ass back in the air! Do not stop. Do not eat. Do not sleep. Home now, asshole. I swear to
** Sleep-sleep-sleep Don't lie close to the bed side Otherwise a grey wolf will come And bite you.

Report Date

09 Oct 2023