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17. Hull - Gifts and Bargains
🕑 Added 2025-06-25 00:19:34 +0000 UTC
Chapter 17
Gifts and Bargains
“I think that’s everything,” I said, peeking out into the corridor for the hundredth time. Still no one in sight. I’d picked a small empty room in the servants’ hallways to stay in – falling asleep in one of those idiot noble four-poster beds was just begging to get sneaked up on and stabbed – and from the looks of it, not a Twins-damned soul cared to keep track of me. I hadn’t seen my mother since she’d stalked out of the throne room with Xemris, and the Palace’s contingent of wights and low-level demons seemed to avoid me like the plague. It made me jumpy to be so thoroughly ignored, but it was far better than the alternative.
This secret meeting with Afi, for instance, would have been a hell of a lot harder if anybody gave two shits about me. As it was, I’d been able to report on the rough numbers of the enemy and the obvious tensions between the undead and demon factions, not to mention the frosty bickering between my mother and the Primarch’s daughter. Lots of cracks to exploit, if we could just figure out the right way to go about it.
“I’ll tell Edaine and the Queen,” she promised. Then she reached out for me to join her on the room’s narrow cot, which I did after easing the door closed. “They’ve got me busy helping with the fighting in nearly every enemy encounter we have. I’m exhausted, but it’s paying off. I’m already starting to feel a little elevation pressure again, can you believe it? Turns out fighting a war non-stop really speeds up the process.”
Even in the dimness I could see the shakiness of her other hand as she knuckled at her eyes. “Don’t let that asshole Hintal push you too hard. You need sleep.”
She laughed ruefully. “It’s not him; not really. When you’ve got one of the best decks in the group, it’s hard to say no when the call comes in to save somebody. We just got word that there are survivors in Biddlewyn, the school my sponsors run. Ran. As soon as I’m done here I’m off to see what I can do.”
“Can’t it wait until morning?” I asked. I itched to go with her. I knew that what I was doing here was important, but knowing that I could be making a difference in the fighting out on the streets made my fists ache to punch someone. Besides, then I could protect Afi… and get away from whatever had happened when I’d been in the room with Xemris. I’d spent this entire conversation feeling vaguely guilty, as if I needed to confess something to Afi, even though that was stupid. I’d kissed her once; it wasn’t like we were married. And what would I have said, anyway? Hey, just thought you should know that I met this crazy demon girl and she made me twelve kinds of randy when she punched me in the face. How ‘bout let’s kiss some more? No, this was my problem, not Afi’s. She had enough on her plate already, from the sound of things.
“It really can’t wait,” she sighed. “There’s a group of undead massing just a few streets over from the school – we think they found out they’re there and are going to make a rush soon. We need to get to them before the enemy does. And besides, it’s my school, dammit. It’s more my home than the Erlun manor at this point. Those skeletons will suck on Fortune’s stones before I let them destroy the place.” Her jaw was set; there was no talking her out of it. She really did look lovely. What was wrong with me? I was plenty attracted to her. What I’d felt in Xemris’s presence was something else entirely, almost a compulsion. It felt like the red rage of a fight, just… in the opposite direction. Focus, dumbass. Sort out your girl problems when the important stuff is handled.
Afi had told me that Gale had arrived at the Watch headquarters not long before she’d come to meet me, and that he was working with Edaine and the Queen to coordinate with Gerard’s army outside the city. My job was to keep my eyes and ears open to see if there was a time when the enemy was most likely to be distracted or disorganized so that we could time a double strike from both within and without the city and topple the bastards all at once. There were so many threads to keep track of that it made my head spin. I thanked the Twins that at least a few responsible, knowledgeable adults had survived to take charge of the resistance. I wasn’t cut out for that kind of large-scale organization. I needed something manageable, something I could punch into submission. Like infiltrating the palace, stealing a priceless Artifact, and saving Basil. Sure. Simple stuff.
“You’d better go, then,” I said. “Do you have time to pop in on Basil real quick and pass him a message before you go? The ballroom where the lich keeps him is well-guarded, and I haven’t been able to get to him yet.”
She winced. “The Queen expressly forbade me from trying to contact him again once she heard how close a call it was the first time. His father was furious, but she’s right. This new ability of mine is too valuable to risk letting the lich see. She’ll snatch me up in a second, and as it stands, half of my job is running messages between the spread-out leaders of different groups, especially now that we’ve made contact with Gale. I can get in and out without having to pass through gates and doors, and she doesn’t want to risk me unnecessarily. She doesn’t even want me meeting with you, honestly, but the information you’re gathering is valuable enough to make it worthwhile since you’re not under anyone’s thumb for the moment.” She gripped my hand harder. “I’m sorry, Hull, you know I want to help Basil. But you’re on your own in this.”
I nodded and patted her hand. “The Queen is right. I’ll figure it out.”
She sighed again, looking grave, and then leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. “Be safe, Hull. I have to go.”
I reluctantly let go of her. “Be safe yourself,” I said. “All it takes is one bad match.”
For some reason that made her smile brilliantly. “I’ll have Edaine and several of Hintal’s men with me. But I’ll be careful. See you tomorrow night.”
Then she was gone, as if I’d blinked and she’d slipped away so fast the space where she’d been was empty. The spot where she’d sat on the bed was still warm and rising back to its usual shape after the weight of her suddenly disappeared. I sat in silence for a long second. Is this what people call love? I want to keep her safe, and I’d sure like to spend more time with her. That kiss was pretty damn nice. Huh. I’d never thought I’d live long enough to worry about such things. When I’d lived on the streets, I’d thought anyone who fell in love was a hopeless moron. Who’d dare let someone else get so close to them? It was a sure way to get your head bashed in with a rock while you slept, and sex couldn’t be so great that it was worth that, right? Younger me would have spat in disgust if he could have heard these thoughts of mine. Love. That was the kind of bullshit nobles talked about.
There’s so much you don’t know, I told that young, angry specter of myself. It’s not all bullshit, even though it looked like it from where you stood. Thinking of that day when I’d hunkered in the alley behind Capano’s and waited for the old man to die so I could steal his Troll card, I felt a terrible sadness for the boy I'd been. That kid knew people weren’t supposed to live like he did, but at the same time, what else could he do? I wanted more than anything to get these Twins-damned demons and undead out of my city so I could get back to making the Lows a decent place to live.
But first I’ve got to get Basil out of here. The lich stole people’s abilities, and she had her sights on my friend. Her methods might be a shade less awful than what my mother did to people, but I doubted he’d live long once she was done with him. I had to get to him. I summoned my Sources and got to my feet. The ballroom where they were keeping him had been swarming with undead when I’d peeked down the hall at it during the day, but I was hoping that it’d be a different story in the dead hours past midnight.
I sifted through cards until I had my Sucking Void, my Vampiric Blade, my Talisman of Spite, the Iron Maiden Plate, and a few of my bigger demons in hand, but I didn’t summon anything. A single form would be less obvious in the dark than several, and even my Relic summons gave off a little extra light when they were out. For that matter, I didn’t like the glow my Nether were giving, much less the more brilliant light of my single Order Source. Frowning, I plucked one of the Nether out of the air overhead and held it in hand. The fluctuating spikes pricked against my skin like a dull nail without actually hurting me. Even just holding it gave me a little extra bump of anger and drive to do something. It was slightly malleable under my fingers, like a very stiff putty, and warm like a river rock in the sun. What if…?
I put it in my pocket. It stayed there, poking at me slightly as it pulsed. With a satisfied grunt, I began secreting my Source under my clothes. I didn’t have enough space in my pockets for everything, so I slipped several of them up my shirt sleeves, mentally focusing on having them hover at the backs of my arms and behind my elbows. My shirt was a dark gray and of a nice thick weave; no light from the Nether escaped. The Order had to go in my pouch; its light was too bright and would shine through even the heavier fabric of my trousers. I made sure I could still draw on the Sources with them hidden and was pleased to find that so long as I knew where they were – and I could feel them, so that wasn’t hard – drawing the Source in for summoning was as easy as ever. I knew Edaine had been focused on battlefield techniques during War Camp, but I wished she’d told us we could hide our Sources. This was going to be useful.
My experimentation done, I crept through the darkness of the hallways, pulling out a Nether to give me a bit of dim light whenever I wasn’t sure where I was, and gradually worked my way back toward the ballroom where Basil was trapped. I kept well back if ever I saw anyone passing, which happened more than a few times. None of these undead seemed to bother with torches at night, and I saw fewer and fewer demons the closer I got to the lich’s lair. It was plain as the nose on my face that these allies didn’t much like each other, and I’d told Afi to report as much to Edaine and the Queen. It wouldn’t take much to turn these shitheads against each other. The low-level demons and wights already snapped at each other if anyone not of their kind got too close.
Two hooded figures were posted as guards outside the ballroom. I cursed internally, trying to plot my next move. They looked to be human, oddly enough, instead of the skeletons and wights I was growing accustomed to seeing. What did that mean? I didn’t know enough about the situation to guess, but one of them was slumped in a chair with their head canted forward to rest on their chest, either asleep or nearly so. The other one shifted from leg to leg restlessly, reaching up a young-looking hand into the deep hood to… scratch a nose? Rub their eyes? I couldn’t tell.
I wished I had my mother’s ability and the Stealth card she’d used to slip around the War Camp fortifications. No, I don’t. I don’t want anything that woman has. Still, it would have been awfully handy to be able to invisibly sneak past the guards. Could I create some sort of distraction or point of interest that would draw away the one on foot without them waking their companion? That felt more possible, but none of my demon summons was particularly notable, not with a whole army’s worth of the bastards running around the place, and any disturbance I sent them to make was likely to be loud enough to wake the sleeping guard.
I needed finesse here, not a heavy hand. It wasn’t my specialty, but I wracked my brain. What would Basil do? No, not him. He’d march up and offer them scones. I need to think like Morgane. It irked me that I’d had to leave the fellow behind with the City Watch; his bluster and false-facing were exactly what I needed now. He’d pretend to be an ally. I could do that if the guards were demons, maybe, but not with undead. Are these humans part of the undead camp? They must be; the lich would never allow them near otherwise. But maybe they won’t be quite so aggressive with one of my demons… hmm.
I summoned my Night Terror, my finger already to my lips to shush him even before he appeared.
“Elevate me,” he demanded, just as he always did these days. Fortunately, he was smart enough to keep his voice to a whisper.
“Yes, all right, shut up,” I said, matching his volume. “I’ve got cards being broken down as we speak. I need you to go tell that human that Yveda the Changer needs him to–” I chewed the inside of my cheek, thinking. “--carry a message to the big lich.”
The demon flicked his night-sight eyes to the distant figure. “You are pointing at a female.”
“Her, then,” I growled. “Do it.”
“Do not,” said a dusty, raspy voice, and suddenly a hand as cold as ice clamped around the back of my neck. My heart lurched inside me, but the rest of me held very still. The lich herself stood right beside me, her dried-out, emerald-flecked eyes boring into me. The hand tightened, and a card shed from my Mind Home. I wasn’t about to lose anything in my hand or call attention to the fact that I had a hand by discarding from there.
The Night Terror wrapped his wings around himself protectively and eyed me, waiting for a command. I held out a hand, indicating for him to wait. This was a Mythic that had me, and even with just that one hand on me, I was not at all sure I could armor up and build a defense before she tore through my whole deck and snapped my neck like a twig. I nearly activated the Sucking Void, which would protect me for the moment, but where would I be three turns from now? Better to wait to see what she had to say. If she’d wanted to kill me, she’d have done so already.
Her eyes were still drilling into me. “Useless,” she said, sounding disgusted. “Others Intervene for me, not the other way around, and being able to do it twice makes it no better. Tell me this message from Yveda before I kill you.”
I took a shaky breath. She’d just looked at my soul card somehow without me intentionally sharing it, and dismissed me as useless. If she hadn’t believed I bore a message, I likely wouldn’t have survived that moment of judgment. “She, uh. She says that –”
“– that you should be careful when handling gifts,” said a sallow, shifty-looking man with long hair, appearing out of nowhere. I blinked. It was Mother, and she was wearing her Stealth card. “Felstrife, I’d like you to meet my son Hull.”
I tried to keep my sigh of relief internal. Thank the Twins. Wait, how long has she been there?
“Your son,” the lich hissed, looking at me more closely. “I’d have expected someone less disappointing.”
“You can’t choose your children,” Mother said, shifting into her tall, elegant demon form. “You can, however, put them to all sorts of use if you’re smart enough.”
“I’ll not let him into my sanctum simply because he is your pup,” Felstrife snarled. “Low-level or not, I know better than to let vipers roam free.”
“I thought you might think the double Intervene ability was interesting,” Mother said casually. “Worth elevating, at least, as you’ve done with the others.”
“Keep your poisoned gifts,” the lich snarled, hurling me toward her with no apparent effort. Mother stepped aside, and I bounced off the wall hard, losing more cards. “And stay away from the ballroom.” She floated away, barking an order to the pair of humans outside her lair. The sleeping one was on his feet faster than I would have thought possible.
“I’m a gift?” I said acidly as I picked myself up.
“Of course not,” she snorted, walking away. All I could do was follow. I wasn’t getting in to see Basil tonight. I’d have to find another way. The Night Terror slunk after us, looking as if he wished he could be anywhere else. Mother ignored him completely and continued her thought. “If I’d thought Felstrife was interested in your ability I’d have taken you straight there when you arrived. And why would I even bother? There’s nothing of value to me among her pets.” She eyed me sidelong. “Although you seem to feel differently. Is the boy your lover?”
I blinked. “No,” I said. “He’s my friend. I owe him.”
She made a displeased sound. “Owing friends things is dangerous. Forget about the boy. Tinker with this instead.” She unlatched an ornate, fist-sized square of metal from her belt and tossed it to me.
I recognized it immediately as the vault key the Queen had tasked me to find and knew I had to feign ignorance. “What’s this?”
“A toy of your father’s,” she said, frowning at the thing as if it offended her. “It’s a spatial key, and I’m sure the old bastard had a few items of interest inside. But I can’t open the thing no matter what I try. You give it a crack and I’ll let you keep half of what’s inside. But we have to go in together; that’s the deal.”
“I don’t know how to open these things,” I protested.
“Turns out that neither do I,” Mother said, spreading her hands. “If you fail, I’ve lost nothing, and at least it keeps it out of other, less aligned hands.”
“Aligned?” I said.
“Us-aligned,” she replied. We’d come a good distance now, and we were starting to see other demons in the hallways. All bowed to her as she passed. “Unsummon that Night Terror, will you? He bothers me.”
I glanced back at my demon, who had deflated at her words, looking miserable. “What’s wrong with him?”
She clicked her tongue in irritation. “He’s made bloodletting his entire personality. It’s boring. I left him with Ticosi because it was all he could talk about.”
Realizing that Mother had casually discarded an Epic because she didn’t like its personality gave me a clearer sense of the power level of her deck than anything else she could have said. It wasn’t like she was wrong – the Night Terror did love to rhapsodize about death and pain, or at least he had before getting elevated back up to Epic became his new obsession – but I held a soft spot in my heart for the bloodthirsty bugger. He’d been my first Epic demon. I decided on the spot that he’d be the first I elevated once I got my shards back from the Queen’s Soulsmith. Maybe mother would take him more seriously as a Mythic. For now, though, I acquiesced and dismissed him. Whether it was the late hour or the run-in with Felstrife, my Twins-cursed mother was talking freely, and I didn’t want to stop the flow.
“Is anyone else in the Palace aligned with us?” I asked, aiming for the same offhand tone she liked to cultivate, as if nothing in the world mattered.
She gave me a crooked smile, and I wasn’t sure if it was approving or mocking. “Not even close. The undead are all unimaginative idiots halfway back to being clods of dirt, and the demons… well. The Primarch wants to feed every last card in the world into the Netherwell, break the Twins’ hold on magic, and turn this world into an extension of our home realm. And his sweet little daughter is very much on board with the idea, as are most of our people.”
My mind boggled at the idea. “Can he do that?”
“Probably,” she said, sounding as if we were discussing what to have for dinner.
“And… you don’t want that,” I said carefully.
“Spend enough time outside the Nether Realm and you start to see things differently from the rank and file. Don’t get me wrong: raw, primal magic can be a very impressive thing when it’s unchained from the system your Twins have created, but…” She shrugged. “The Primarch is a bore and an asshole, and I like this world how it is.”
That was a lot to chew on, and I couldn’t wait to pass this information to Afi and the others. If it was even true, that is. I’d have to talk to Xemris and see if she could confirm any of this before I made too much noise to my friends about it. Speaking of… “So, um… when the Primarch’s daughter hit me, uh…” I floundered, feeling stupid.
“You wanted to rip off her clothes and take her by force?” she finished, seeming unconcerned. “I could see the erection from halfway across the room.”
“Is it an ability?” I asked, trying to ignore the heat of embarrassment in my face. “I met a vampire once that had a glamor. Is it like that?”
“No,” she laughed. “You’re just a demon reaching your prime who was challenged by a female close to reaching hers. It’s as natural as the sunrise.”
“Will it happen every time I see her?” I said, hating the desperation in my voice.
“Likely,” she said. “Tumble her and get it out of the way. I was going to suggest it one way or the other. I need something to keep the little bitch out of my hair.”
Something deep inside me surged at the thought of giving into the feelings I’d felt, but I shrugged it off. “That can’t be why you want me here.”
“Not at all,” she responded. “We’re going to try some things, you and I. If I’m ever going to make it to Legendary, the very least I can do is understand my abilities inside and out. We’re going to figure out how you survived when I took your card as a child if it’s the last thing I do.”
I gritted my teeth. My entire life of suffering and hunger, dismissed as unimportant next to her elevation potential and research curiosity. “So how are we going to do that?”
She stopped and turned to face me, a serious expression on her face for once. “You’re going to let me steal your new one.”
Comments
Sharrif
So much lore packed in so few words, and also, what a hell of a line to end the chapter with.
Knyko
crazy
Rex Martin
With a capital K
Death56
This bitch crazy
Rex Martin
Tftc
