Death Touch Chapter 14

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Sara

Just as Clint promised, Sara had woken up to discover another letter that had been slid under her door. She yawned tiredly as she stared at it, currently too groggy to move. Then she remembered why she had been waiting for it and rolled out of the bed to pick it up. She opened it fervently and began to read.

“My uncle doesn’t actually know anything that can really help us, but he’s offered to train me so that I can learn to speak to Crane. It’s going along well, but it’s a lot more complicated than I thought. I think the scholars here are enjoying my confusion a little too much, so I’d appreciate some help from a friendly face. Either way, I’ll be at the grand temple until further notice.”

Sara was familiar with how unkind the clergy of Crane could be to those struggling to learn, so she had decided to waste little time in meeting up with him. After checking out from her room, she stopped by the Midas house to update Alexis. She had seemed angry that Clint hadn’t sent such a letter to her, and even more so that he hadn’t actually found her brother. Since Sara could not be faulted for either of these things, the women then parted on friendly, albeit tense, terms.

When Sara arrived in Seres, it was already well into the afternoon. She was tired, but she rushed to the grand temple anyway. When she entered, it was to find Clint in a familiar position. He was sitting cross-legged in front of the altar with a scroll of ancient text in front of him, but his eyes were glazed over in a meditative trance. She was careful not to disturb him as he worked and instead whiled away the time by thinking about the brilliance that had made this divine language available to mortals in the first place.

It had been many centuries ago, back when Resta was still two separate lands and Galeon was called Eris. Back then, there existed a city nestled above the clouds and guarded by dragons. Legends told that this forbidden city was host to a library that held all of Crane’s secrets; secrets that mortals had coveted since the dawn of time. No one would master flight until later on in the much more recent past, so the city went undisturbed for millennia. Then a group of elite Erisian spies known as the Windlords managed to sneak into the city and abscond with some of the deity’s personal documents.

The information they found had given them vast insight into the history of the gods predating Comalan’s genesis and helped them to decipher the ancient language. The Windlords were eventually caught and punished by Crane for their hubris, but it was  too late. Mortals had learned more about the gods than they were ever intended to. As a resolution, Karla Blackstone seized as much of this information as possible and exercised tight control over it. It was then dispensed at her discretion to those who she was certain would not misuse it. Nearly all of the secrets faded out of existence over time, but the ancient language endured and had since been taught to countless generations of templars and clerics.

Now, an untrained hunter from the local farm was studying it.

To his credit, he was progressing faster than she ever had. It had taken her several years to master the written language and move on to applying the words. After a single day, Clint was already attempting communication. She had developed several tricks over the years that she supposed could have helped him to memorize the various block symbols this quickly, but he had somehow managed to work it out on his own. I wish you’d been around to help ME.

Clint’s eyes fluttered open and he grunted in frustration. It took him a few moments to notice Sara’s presence, during which time she had risen from her seat and walked up to the altar. He let himself fall backwards and focused on the pristine white ceiling.

“I am so confused!” he complained. “I was doing alright with the text part, but now I’m not getting anywhere at all!”

Sara sat down beside the laying champion and gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. I was just thinking that you’ve already progressed faster than anyone I know at this. You’ll get the hang of it soon enough.”

Clint didn’t seem convinced. “Soon, maybe, but soon enough? We don’t even know what Maula is up to yet. I need to get this down quickly so I can ask Crane what to do. Have you talked to Serenity lately?”

Sara shook her head. “No. I don’t think she has any more to tell me at the moment.”

The cleric had been thinking about Serenity’s silence for a while. It seemed to her at first that the urgency of the situation might cause the goddess to be more eager to communicate. The longer she thought about it, though, the more she began to realize that urgency is not one of her usual concerns. She will talk when she needs to, she thought, there is nothing I can do yet but guide Clint and find the other champions.

However, Clint did not take Sara’s response for the peaceful statement that it was. “What does that mean? If she’s not talking to you, there must be something wrong, right?”

Sara shook her head patiently. “For the gods, it takes a lot of power to even interact with us. So they must be sparing with their communication and just observe. I have been assuming that the fact that Serenity hasn’t responded to me just means that I’m on the right track.”

Clint seemed to think about this for a moment before saying, “Well, if that’s the case, maybe that’s why I’m having so much trouble. Perhaps Crane just doesn’t want to talk to me yet.”

Sara shook her head once more. How curious that he can be so smart yet miss something so obvious. “If that were the case, we wouldn’t be here. You were summoned by Father Blackstone specifically so that you could learn to communicate with gods, right? Then it stands to reason that Crane was the one who told them to.”

“Well, I guess I’d better really focus, then,” Clint said wearily. But as he sat up to glance at his scroll, his stomach growled. “Guess that’ll be easier if I get some lunch. Have you eaten yet?”

“No,” Sara replied. “I came right over as soon I got to the city. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Clint stood up and began to stretch and shake the numbness out of his extremities. “Come with me. My aunt owns a bakery that produces the best sghitsi in the world.”

They had only just walked out of the temple when Sara caught sight of someone unexpected. She reflexively knelt as a massive female templar approached. When she looked over to Clint, however, she noticed that he had remained standing and was now looking down at her bemusedly.

“What are you--? Who’s this?”

“That’s Matilda the Bear!” Sara hissed quietly, fearing the possibility of the woman hearing her.

“She’s the leader of the Templars! G-get down here!”

Before Clint had a chance to comply, the Templar had stepped over the final step. Sara had been about to yank his arm to force him to kneel, but Matilda stopped short of Clint and asked, “Are you the champions of Crane and Serenity?”

Sara gasped. She had never dreamed, even with the will of the gods placed on their shoulders, that the head of the Blackstone Order would seek them out. This revelation, which really shouldn’t have surprised her, only seemed to make the burden feel heavier. Suddenly embarrassed, she stood up and nodded mutely while Clint replied. “Yes we are.”

Matilda turned to look at Sara, who had remained speechless. She seemed to decide that Clint would be speaking for them, however, and turned her attention back to him. “Sir, I am here to report that I have located the Champion of Ragos and delivered him to the grand temple in Gyanda.”

Sara would never have believed Matilda could speak so deferentially to anyone, even knowing that she had to have started at the bottom of the order’s ranks just like everyone else. She had only met her once while she was studying at the Blackstone Monastery. Back then, she had seemed so fierce and zealous that imagining her use the word “Sir” was an impossibility. The Bear might have addressed royalty as such in theory, but even that felt ironic to Sara. Matilda had to be one of the most powerful people in Resta.

But since Clint had no reason to think any of those things, he instead said, “That’s fantastic! Is it Seth?”

The Bear nodded. “I found him reporting to his superiors at Hem Academy. He’s been blessed by Ragos with a font of rage that nearly blew me and Father Maximus away.”

“I keep telling him he needs anger management. He‘s going to kill somebody one of these days,” Clint joked with a self-indulgent chuckle.

“How is that funny?” Sara said indignantly. “He may really have killed someone.”

“The Hem Order have determined that Seth Midas is not at fault for the death of Albert Harret,”

Matilda announced, then added, “He has been cursed by Maula to kill on contact. That particular tragedy could not have been avoided.”

Clint snapped his fingers. “Is that what the wild source matter is?”

Both of the women raised their eyebrows at Clint, who quickly explained, “Well, I remembered my brother telling me something about the stuff. I asked him about it this morning and he told me that Maula manipulates source matter and that’s what makes her so dangerous. ‘It’s like unraveling a majestic tapestry by pulling on the individual threads and replacing them elsewhere.’ His words, not mine.”

Sara had to think for a moment to truly appreciate the analogy. “So, she took a part of the world itself and put it in him?”

“Not quite,” Matilda said. “He was poisoned by the touch of a maulan’s tail.”

“The maulans are back too, huh?” Sara said bitterly. “Well, that makes sense.”

“What does?” Clint asked.

“Maulans,” Sara repeated for emphasis. “They are horrible, unnatural creatures that Maula spawned during the Wave of Death. They, like everything else, are composed of source matter, but a corrupt version of it.”

“This is very enlightening, but unimportant now,” Matilda announced. “I have come to tell you where to find the champion of Ragos, but there is something else I must say to the champion of Serenity.”

Sara couldn’t help jumping at the thought of The Bear giving her a personal message. She willed herself to calm down and said, “What do you mean to tell me, Commander… umm, madam?”

Matilda’s eyes locked with Sara’s and she thought her heart was bludgeoning her ribs. “One of the Seers back at the monastery had a minor prophecy that you must be aware of. She said ‘Tragedy will arise during the Festival of Ragos which will bring down the tears of Salica. Only the bond of sisters will quell the sorrow.’”

Sara turned the words over in her head for a moment. She wondered why these words should be relevant to her. Salica always sheds tears over tragedy; that’s where rain comes from. Of course tragedy would befall the Festival of Ragos with the bloody Resta Grand Tournament being held during the festivities. But the bond of sisters? She knew that Serenity and Salica, the Goddess of Storms, were sisters. Perhaps…

“I will find the champion of Salica at the Summer Festival,” she said, knowing that was the right idea the moment she said it.

Next Chapter

Ekera of Sister, Avatar of Serenity

Ekera of Sister, Avatar of Serenity

Ekera, despite being seen as an enigmatic, and sometimes fearsome figure, is a well-loved and trusted avatar not only to those of her own faith, but with those who follow other gods. While her ways have garnered some criticism from the most orthodox followers of Serenity, she is most notable for being an avatar who successfully blends the tenets of other faiths with the Serene, making her popular with the interfaith community. 

***

Ekera was born on the island of Sister and was raised to be a proud member of her community. She valued her family, community, and the well-protected ecosystem of the island. Growing up, she found she excelled in physical activities and was also powerfully gifted in the use of Serene magic, so she committed herself to serving her community as a protector who would guard her island and its people from anyone who would threaten them. Ekera had a very straightforward plan for her life — she wanted to protect her island, build a family, and live out her final years as a respected healer. However, this was not meant to be.

One seemingly ordinary day, Ekera was patrolling the edge of the wilds when she spotted a team of strange men attempting to disembark the island with a large tiger in tow, who seemed to be bound in some kind of magical chain and in clear distress. Ekera, who was sworn to protect her island and all of her creatures, attacked the men in a rage. Though she managed to take out three of the invaders, the others were able to escape in what looked to be a large, gilded ship emblazoned across the side with the words Siren of Solan. Ekera returned to the community, ashamed of her failure, but determined to make things right again. She gathered enough supplies for a long trip and headed out on the first ship bound for Resta.

From Solan, Ekera was able to track the kidnappers to a wealthy estate in the Restan countryside, where she found a menagerie filled with a variety of exotic animals — including the tiger that had been stolen from Sister. It was heavily guarded, but she fought her way through the defenses in order to free the creature, along with several other caged animals. Just as the pair was about to escape, however, they would find themselves confronted by the wealthy Restan man whose menagerie she had liberated, along with more mercenaries she could count. She and the beast took out dozens of fighters together in a glorious battle that ended with the tiger tearing out the rich man’s throat before it and Ekera were overwhelmed and killed by the remaining soldiers. 

As she died, Ekera thought that this would be her final waking moment before moving on to the afterlife. This would explain the surprise she felt as she awoke several hours later in the back of a moving wagon, covered by a sheet of burlap. At first, she thought she may have survived the battle somehow, but she quickly realized that she was no longer a living person, but was a sai’mul — one who has died without passing into the afterlife. 

This realization devastated Ekera. She was severed from her connection to the divine magic she once valued so deeply, and she knew that not only could she never return to Sister, she would be separated from her family and community even after they passed to the next life. For several days, she simply wandered, seeking out places that reminded her of home, while trying her best to avoid other people. She made a small camp in Lightning Ridge, where she contemplated what she should do. Despite feeling disconnected from the gods she had once revered so highly, she almost felt as if they had given her an answer as she spotted a pair of poachers stalking through the ridge, wheeling a large cage of chinchillas — likely to be bred and sold, or slaughtered for their pelts. Ekera liberated the chinchillas and handily scared off the poachers. 

From then on, Ekera spent her years caring for the place she now considered her home. She appreciated the company of the animals around her, but she was still pained by the disconnect she felt from other humans. She wore a hooded cloak to conceal her features whenever she felt in danger of encountering other people, and rarely spoke to anyone. This way of life continued for nearly a decade. 

Ekera continued to quietly search for ways to regain her connection with the gods enough to perform Serene magic once more. This search would take her life on another unexpected turn when she visited the lab of Richard Broger, who was known for researching the nature of sai’mul and various types of soul magic. It was here that she met Elidol Dawnstrike, the man who would become the Avatar of Chaos. The pair bonded over their undeath, and Ekera would soon be pulled into the quest that would lead her to become the Avatar of Serenity, granting her what she had originally sought in her initial journey — a renewed connection to Serene magic. Her relationship with Elidol, as well as her status of Avatar, led to a new sense of purpose for Ekera, as well as a stronger sense of connection with other people. 

Death Touch Chapter 13

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Seth

Seth and Maya had talked late into the night, even as they made camp at the edge of Hector’s barrier, so they had gotten a late start the next morning. Although the subterranean Marzett residence had not been far from Hem Academy, it was nearly midday when they reached the shadow of the titanic silver tower. Maya marveled at the sight of the school while Seth basked in its reminiscent glow. Breaking their reverie was a cluster of fellow spellwarriors in chain mail combat gear who had begun to file out of the tower’s massive ebony doors. What, are we going to war?

The impromptu parade had lasted nearly ten minutes, during which time Seth was certain that the building had been emptied. As many people as there were standing between him and Hem Academy now, he was sure that even the students must have been outfitted for this mysterious ceremony. The last to exit, were the ten academy elders. Seth spotted Karian Maloran, the Grandmaster of the order at the very end of the queue, accompanied by three templars. When the full force of the Hem Order had come to a complete stop, the Grandmaster and three templars approached the bewildered recruit. He could find little comfort in his gentle smile or his usual aura of reassurance because he was focused on the templars. One of them, a giant woman with short, steel-grey hair and leathery tan skin had begun to speak.

“Seth Midas, I am--”

“I know who you are, Matilda the Bear.”

She and the Grandmaster were paradoxes of their respective orders. Although they were each the supreme commanders of two bitterly rivaling units, they were somehow happily married. Of course, this was always regarded a secret which Seth only knew because his mother was Karian’s cousin.

“Good, that should save us time,” she responded in a dialect characteristic of Galean immigrants. “We are all pleased to see that you’ve survived. Now we have some questions for you.”

All evidence seemed to point to this reception being for his benefit, but the idea had seemed so surreal that he had a hard time believing it. He had come to ask his own questions of the elders, but now Templars had taken an interest in his ordeal. How interesting his life had become since the case of the useless prayer charms. That couldn’t have been what this was about, was it?

“Okay, I’m ready to talk. But… what’s going on here?”

“You’ve missed a lot recently,” Karian said gravely. “Prince Jonathon was assassinated last night and we’ve just received word that Princess Esther has fallen dead at her own party.”

“But that’s not what I wanted to speak to the boy about,” Madam Maloran said sharply.

“My dear, you were the one who told me these events might be related.”

“Related how?” Seth asked.

Matilda ignored his question and said, “Tell me about the night before you went into your coma in your own words.”

Seth had been so overwhelmed by everything that seemed to be happening all at once that he had barely registered the deaths of half of the royal family. He was beginning to feel frustrated by the couple playing tug of war with his mind, but he was far from uncooperative. The templars listened to his story without comment. When he had covered his failed attempt to break his curse, Matilda raised a hand to stop him.

“That will do. You’ve told me what I need to know.”

Master Karian and the templars held a brief and whispered conference while alternating glances at Seth. When they returned to his side, Matilda spoke once more.

“These ‘Dark Walkers’ you speak of are familiar to me,” she said with a growl. “They are called maulans, foul man-beasts who served Maula in her Wave of Death.”

“I’ve heard the stories. So, what, are we looking at another Wave of Death?”

“That is what we’re assuming,” Karian said with a nod to the assembled spellwarriors. “The timing of the royal family deaths is an important detail. The last time Maula roamed this world, the royalty of both of our founding nations were targeted.”

Seth nodded to show he understood. “If that is the case, I am ready to join my brothers and sisters in sorting this out.”

Husband and wife exchanged a rapid glance before Karian said, “You will not be joining us.”

Before Seth could muster his objection, Matilda added. “Your path is a different one. You will be coming with me to the city of Gyanda.”

That revelation did nothing to make him feel better. He fought valiantly for his creed, but it was hopeless. When Grandmaster Maloran gives an order, he rarely changes his mind. So, within moments, Matilda barked at her subordinates to prepare a sky rug and Karian took him aside.

“Seth, I know that asking one of my own to cooperate with the templars may not seem fair, but this is not a punishment. No matter where your journey takes you in the coming days, you are still a member of the Hem Order.”

Seth nodded, but only mumbled in reply.

“I know this may be hard for you to believe now, so I will give you something to assure you of my esteem.”

Before the young Midas could ask for clarification, Karian whispered something to one of the other elders. Thus, the elder spellwarrior darted away and returned within seconds. There was a teenage girl with a short, stocky frame and long, wild brown hair trailing in her wake. She was dressed in plain leather traveling clothes instead of any armor or academy uniform. She looked confused, but positively excited to be standing where she was.

“You will take an apprentice as all full-fledged members of our order eventually do,” Karian explained as he gestured toward the girl. “This is Samantha Desmond. You will protect and guide her throughout your journey. If she truly has the potential to pass the muster that you did, I know you’ll be the first to tell us.”

Seth nodded, a little dumbfounded. Admission to Hem Academy was only granted with the recommendation of an existing spellwarrior. So without a mentor, Samantha Desmond would never get a chance to join the order. It was considered a rite of passage for all spellwarriors to eventually be trusted with such a charge, but he hadn’t expected to be assigned an apprentice so soon.

“Nice to meet you,” Seth said, his utter bemusement failing to foil his courtesy completely. Samantha had parroted his words in a squeaky voice and her face flushed with embarrassment.

Finally, the templars announced that the sky rug was ready. So Seth, Maya, Samantha and the three templars sat down on the gently floating carpet and within moments, they were off.

***

Seth had waited until they reached Gyanda to ask any questions. But as the other templars dispersed, Matilda had insisted that they get to the Grand Temple first. The secrecy was starting to bother Seth, but everyone who knew the first thing about the Templars’ Grandmaster knew better than to prod her; she was known as The Bear for a reason. So, Seth had taken this time to get to know his new friends better.

Maya had followed Seth around in wonder since they had left Hector. He knew that everything they saw together would be a new experience for her, but he didn’t expect her to be so intoxicated by it all. With little practice to her credit, Seth had found her to be an awkward conversationalist, though nothing she said had been wrong to the point of bothering him. In fact, every little unusual quirk of hers simply amused him. She was chatty when the mood called for it, but she was quiet when she wanted to be. What really took getting used to was that she had taken to holding his hand frequently since the first time he offered it to her. Still, if anyone was going to do that, it might as well be the one woman who could conceivably do so and live.

Samantha, who said she preferred to be called Sam, was a different story, as he came to find out when she learned to speak through her euphoria. She seemed very intelligent, but so disinterested in everything around her save her new master. She bombarded him with questions that he would have considered far too complex at her age. The young apprentice seemed to know more than any outsider should about the Spellwarriors’ culture and was already fluent in the sole Grade 1 spell book she possessed. She couldn’t do any of the spells yet, but she was eager to learn how. Frankly, she already seemed to be more of a spellwarrior than he had been as an apprentice. Well, she’ll be easy to mentor at least.

They reached the long marble steps that heralded the path to the grandest of the four Grand Temples. Tall braziers lined the entire way up and they were now standing under a thirty-foot tall arch of blue gold that hoisted a single torch. Maya, of course, was left breathless by the Chaotic temple’s majesty, but Matilda held out her hand when she made to follow.

“You two are to wait here. Midas and I will be entering the temple alone.”

Sam bitterly objected, but Maya seemed to be content with standing where she was.

“You’ll come back, though?” She had asked Seth.

“Of course I will,” Seth replied with a nod.

“Great! Then we’ll see you later!”

Maya then took Sam by the hand and dragged her off, leaving Seth and Matilda alone to ascend the long path to Ragos’ temple. When they were inside, the young spellwarrior was dumbfounded. The walls were lined with ancient weapons and faithfully restored banners depicting the sigils of clans that predated Resta’s founding. He somehow noticed that the banners were arranged in such a way that they all faced another banner representing a clan that had historically warred with their own. Even though these grudges were long forgotten, Ragos had long enjoyed the spectacle of war and his followers always honored both the victors and losers of such conflict.

The altar itself was arranged on an amphitheater that might have been, itself, as large as the temple he frequented back home. Two-thousand pews filled the room and the customary statue of Ragos was over fifty feet tall. The whole thing made for a humbling sight, but a terribly long walk. When they finally reached the altar, Seth’s feet had begun to ache, but he realized that he was in the last place in the world anyone should complain about something like that.

The High Priest who stood in front of the statue was cut from the same mold as Matilda. Same leathery skin tone; same tall, bony, muscular frame; and same appraising glare. He might have guessed the two were related, but when he spoke, Seth was sure that he was a native Restan.

“Is this the boy?” he demanded.

“Yes, your holiness,” Matilda said respectfully. “He is the one cursed with the shadow of Maula. It is just as you said.”Whatever the priest had been seeing in his hawk like staring contest with Seth, he didn’t seem to approve. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, sir,” Matilda replied adamantly. “It is the same as with my son.”

The mention of the templar’s son implausibly made the priest smile. Seth knew that she and Master Karian had three sons, but he had never heard that one of them had been cursed.

“How is young Gyanda doing?”

Bellarose’s jovial expression fell into a stoic mask. “No one’s seen him since he was expelled.”

Seth winced as he recalled the expulsion in question. His second cousin had went to Hem Academy as well and, though he wasn’t much of a fighter, he had excelled in the magical aspect of his studies. That was until he had been suspended for fighting. Back when Seth was still an apprentice, he’d heard some bullies had been picking on him and he had killed them all-- in addition to several bystanders, including templars--in a rage.

The High Priest sighed and turned to look at Seth. “It’s too bad. I would much rather believe he was the one Ragos meant.”

Matilda shook her head. “I do not think he would want to see us right now. He unjustly blames the gods for what happened.”

Patience had always been the hallmark of the Midas family’s values, but his was not limitless. He was tired of being led around on a chain. After everything he’d been through, he simply could not abide them changing the subject when he was so close to something important.

“Help with what?” Seth roared. “I’ve been poisoned and trapped in a coma after watching a friend DIE, and now I can’t touch another godsdamned person without killing them. So in case you haven’t noticed, I have a lot on my mind right now. So would someone please, oh please, tell me what the fuck is going on here?”

“Midas! That is no way to--” Matilda grunted, only to be cut off by a laugh from the priest.

“Hm. You’ve got a lot of anger in you, boy,” the priest declared. “Perhaps Ragos will have some use for you after all.”

A frigid chill had run through his body, quelling his steaming temper.

“Midas,” the templar commander murmured weakly. “The reason I brought you here is because Father Maximus has requested your presence. According to him, you might be the new champion of Ragos. If so, you must follow the path of the hero Nicholai.”

“You mean according to Ragos!” the priest grumbled petulantly. “His divine grace told me so himself. And he wants to talk to you too, champion.”

“This is beyond belief,” Seth grumbled. “I’m not a priest. How am I supposed to talk to Ragos?”

“You don’t talk! You listen!” the priest snapped.

Seth rolled his eyes. “Fine, how am I supposed to listen?”

“You will be trained by Father Maximus,” Matilda explained. “When you are ready to fulfill your duty, you will join the other divine champions and send Maula back to Fadal where she belongs.”

Seth did not like what he was hearing. Why must he train in a temple like some templar while his brothers and sisters were fighting who knows what? He feared for them all, what with the appearance of maulans and the recent royal tragedies. He had been about to leave when he remembered that this mission had been given to him by Karian. Even if he was there at the templar’s insistence, disregarding her and Father Maximus would violate the Hem elders’ orders. Reluctantly, he was forced to give in and start his divine training. Before he could begin, however, Matilda pulled him aside.

“Midas, there is one more thing I must tell you before I leave you to your training. You heard me mention that my youngest son was cursed by Lady Maula just as you were. The same is true of yet another of your kin; a Serene priestess named Adamora Maloran. It is likely that you may encounter one or both of them at some point. If you do, be careful because the nature of their curse is different from yours. They may be compelled to act on her behalf, even if they are not loyal to her.”

Great. Now I have to watch my back around my own family.

Next Chapter

Death Touch Chapter 12

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Mia

The full moon was already in clear view deep in the center of the sky by the time Mia reached the end of the mountain trail leading to Freedom’s Reach. This village made a better place to rest than the one in which she had stopped to eat dinner. The houses were somewhat isolated by varying elevations and the local inn was nestled into a grotto. She’d be out of luck if she required a hasty escape, but privacy didn’t seem hard to come by, at least.

Mario’s suggestion be damned. This community, which sat on the border between Resta and Galeon, was nowhere near as treacherous as he had warned. Her disguise, as a Galean travel writer, had been so perfect that she had tricked everyone she saw. She was confident that she’d have little trouble blending in with the Galean citizens and thus easily avoiding any spellwarriors. But as she would learn the next morning, the success of her disguise had a lot more to do with her exclusive exposure to Restans.

“Where did you learn to talk, girl?” the morning cook had demanded when she had asked him for breakfast. “Were you raised by ridge wolves?”

Mia had done enough research to know that ridge wolf was an insult. These fiercely territorial beasts had once overrun most of the world, but Tanis, Galeon, and Heron-- the three countries which border Resta--had all driven the species out of their respective lands. Now Resta was the only place you could find them and, consequently, the world had come to agree that the ridge wolf stood for everything Restan. Mia could have throttled the man’s neck for that remark; she hated passive aggression. Instead, she remained committed to her role.

“You must know a lot of ridge wolves,” she replied coolly. “Do you see many up here this close to Resta?”

The man’s face had turned a color that made Mia sure she shouldn’t eat there. Thankfully, she was saved the trouble of placing an order that would end up covered in spit by Mario’s sudden appearance. Wonderfully enough, he handed her a loaf of sghitsi bread and a lump of dried pork. The cook glared at him, but he had responded with a stronger look and the words “Take a break” delivered in a tone that left little room for argument. Still, he had said it so casually and the man didn’t hesitate to obey. How does he do that?

Mario smirked at Mia, saying. “You’re falling out of character.”

Mia had been staring admiringly at her cohort and her face quickly flushed when he pointed that out. She tried to glare instead, but that only caused him to snicker, which in turn only made her feel more foolish. Desperate to recover, she decided to get down to business.

“Fuck it! Now that I’m here, what’s the word?”

Fortunately, Mario knew when it was a time to be serious, thus he said “Well, first of all, nice work on finishing the job. It wasn’t really a part of the plan, but it did move things along a bit.”

“Well, I’m not one to leave things undone,” Mia said coldly, stung by the confirmation that Dinorah had expected otherwise. “You may want to tell Mother that she shouldn’t expect me to go along with a plan that assumes otherwise.”

Mario nodded defensively. “I know that! And believe me. Our mistress does too now. The next job is someone she definitely wants dead, and she thinks you’re ready for it.”

“What about this plan of ours? What exactly are we doing?”

Mario glared reproachfully, leading Mia to instinctively infer that she had done something wrong. “What makes you think I know?”

“Well, why shouldn’t you? Offing royals isn’t exactly the sort of thing the Starlings are known for. It seems like we ought to be clear on why we’ve moved from vigilantism to high treason.”

“Well, then you have definitely given this more thought than I have,” Mario said nonchalantly. “It’s not our place to question our mistress.”

Mia rolled her eyes, disappointed that her hero seemed to have been running without his wits. “Well, you got me there. I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway. I can think of plenty of reasons that Johnny’s death was a good thing without Lady Dinorah‘s help.”

“Good to hear. I thought we were going to have a problem.”

“No, I’ll do my job. Which is…?”

Mario smiled as he handed her a furled scroll. “You, my dear, are off to a ball for a date with an enchanting beauty named Esther.”

Mia rolled her eyes. “Pass. Unless she’s the person I’m supposed to kill, I don’t think I even want to know Esther.”

“Of course she is, spoilsport! Esther Clark?”

“The princess?”

“No, the cobbler’s daughter.”

“Smart ass.”

Mario continued, “She’s hosting a party in Amora today and it’s so exclusive that even we can’t get an invitation.”

“So, I have to kill someone and gatecrash a party? Who do you think I am, some sort of criminal?”

“The whole country knows about your work with her brother by now, so security will be impeccable. There’s no way anyone’s getting in without permission. Fortunately, you shouldn’t have much trouble getting permission with the cover I brought.”

***

Amora, the sacred city of Serenity.

If this quaint little settlement could be called a city, it was definitely one of the smaller ones in the kingdom. Mia had just arrived and was gripped with an odd sense of cold glee. To do what she had come for in such a sleepy town spoke of so much coming chaos that she barely contained the urge to sing. She, however, was not supposed to be a she at the moment. Her popping, colorful hair had been replaced with a neat black pompadour and she wore the clothes of a male noble.

Mario’s idea had been cunning, but she had not been completely honest when she expressed her faith in it. She had never had to pretend to be a different gender before, but this was the most crucial part. She had taken the place of Esther’s paramour, now a stinking corpse lying in the undercroft of Serenity’s Grand Temple. Although her appearance had reasonably matched his boyish features, what worried her was her voice; no matter how she tried, she couldn’t manage to sound like anything but a teenage girl pretending to be a man.

But Mario had anticipated this problem, so her first stop had been to the home of an unscrupulous mage who altered her voice at Mario’s indirect request, no questions asked. She had been warned that her newly deepened voice would only last for an hour, but she couldn’t see needing much longer than that. She had already run the risk of being horribly late to the party, so she would at least avoid a long queue to her target.

When she cleared the long cobblestone path to the three-story mansion, she presented the guards posted at the door with the scroll that Mario had given her, as instructed. One of them took the unfurled the paper and stared at it for a long time. When she had begun to wonder if he was searching for more than just ink on the page, he gave her a genial nod and stood aside.

“Welcome, Lord Whitetree. Her highness has been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

When Mia replied, her voice had startled her at first, nearly causing her to stutter, “I shall give her my apology for my tardiness when I see her. I’m afraid I couldn’t help being tied up.” Nor could the real Lord Whitetree, I heard.

The guards admitted her to the party and she was soon greeted by a working man of the house. He greeted her absurdly graciously and escorted her to the banquet hall, where Esther Clark stood reciting some official-sounding speech about how she would put the safety of her guests before that of their host, despite the danger she currently faced, and so they should all relax and enjoy themselves. What a beautiful sentiment, Mia thought wickedly. I think you’ll find that we have this in common.

When the princess had concluded her speech and feasting resumed, Mia was brought to her side. Esther seemed to be beside herself with a bewildering blend of both joy and irritation.

“Matthew, where have you been? You already missed the first course!”

Mia bowed repentantly. “I am terribly sorry. I got held up leaving the temple. The templars there nearly had the nerve to quarantine the place!”

“Oh dear!” Esther moaned in the faint, disconnected shock of someone who had never experienced anything half as inconvenient in her life. “Why on earth would they want to quarantine the Grand Temple?”

Mia shrugged. “They believe that it was broken into by grave robbers. I suppose they hoped to find some evidence among the innocent worshippers of the day.”

“You poor thing! At least you made it! Come, have a glass of plum wine!”

Well, two things were confirmed at this point. Esther had been about as smart as her older brother, and just as inexplicably attached to the taste of fermented glacial plums. She accepted the drink with a courteous bow to the server and flicked him a gold coin. She took another sip, hoping to find that it was an acquired taste. Sadly, she hated it just as much now as when she’d had it force fed to her.

“Delicious,” she gulped tearfully.

“Wonderful!” Esther was beaming at the assassin. “Now that you are here, I can finally dance!”

All-in-all, Mia had a pretty enjoyable time at Esther’s party. The food was delicious, the drinks were tolerable as long as they weren’t made from out-of-season mint-flavored fruits, and the music was charming. The other guests and the host herself were all intolerably boring, but the slayer didn’t have to suffer long. In just under an hour, she slipped quietly from the mansion. An hour later, the princess was pronounced dead due to alcohol poisoning.

It didn’t seem fair when she thought of it. If any of the royal family had deserved to die from her poison, it was Johnny. But as much as she would have appreciated that turn of events, she could still take solace in the irony of it all. The worst part was that she had been even less resolved this time. Unless being boring had recently become categorized as the work of dreadful monsters, she couldn’t see any reason to kill Esther. Still, she had held her duty close to her heart and was extra careful not to fail her mother this time.

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