Chapter 55

(( Hey again. For anyone who wonders where I've been, this post explains fairly well. ))


Nic and the Princess tunneled back beneath the earth. The massive city that had risen from the sands, trembled, and collapsed, was all something of a giveaway. The enemy would probably know they were on the move.

But that didn’t mean they’d misplayed.

In addition to the pharaoh's lungs, Nic had come away with a half-dozen Sandrider Blades from the remaining assassins. Once the city collapsed, they were left out in the open– easy prey. And considering how useful even a single blade had been to Nic, he could only guess what trouble a Winterhome contingent could make with six more.

They dug through the earth in silence, the way illuminated by a ball of fire drifting in the Princess’ hand.

“What’s our plan?” The princess suddenly asked.

Nic sighed. He wished he had one. The most he could hope for was to make a breakthrough, some surge in power that would enable him to deal with the musician. But if the old harpy’s words were true…

The pygmy was even more terrifying than that.

If Nic had to measure his strength against the musician, he could just about convince himself he was an even match, albeit one heavily disadvantaged by the nature of their powers. The musician had extremely bizarre movements that were hard to respond to. Nic had a way of fighting that relied on pressuring his enemies with quick, unpredictable attacks and waiting for his enemies to slip up, then punishing them for that one mistake.

He was at his worst against an opponent who was both faster and more unpredictable...

Nic needed a plan, alright. He needed a plan, more time to recover, more time to build ip his bag of tricks. And those last two were out of reach, so...

"A plan..." He repeated. "Let's see about that. I'm not really the planning sort, but today, I'm gonna try."

"They're too strong to take together." The Princess added.

Nic glanced back.

She wasn't being helpful, but she was trying.

"Yeah, yeah they are. But..." He sighed. "We're not alone in this desert. There's a scary-ass witch and her legion of servants. I don't know that the servants can do anything at all, but the witch? I'm willing to bet she makes an impact."

"So we need them to fight?" She paused, gathering up her courage. “I could… act as bait. They’ll chase me wherever I go, so… I might as well lead them somewhere dark.”

Nic smiled faintly.

She was a fighter.

“Thanks, but we already have bait. They both want to collect the Aleph signs. In fact, this whole desert is just one big battlegrounds, fighting for those runes. I think we’re good waiting and watching…”

She nodded, clearly relieved.

And he continued to dig. It was a slow process, popping up every half-hour under a thin layer of sand to survey the surroundings. On the third hour, he saw a beacon of light leap up into the air above the desert, signaling the completion of an Aleph set.

As he expected, the flying paper crane continued to circle above. The real hunter was somewhere on the ground below…

By the fourth hour, they reached the oasis. Nic dug an underground cavern for them, securing the walls with sticky tar from Mire-Caller. Safe from the desert’s glowering sun, it was comfortably cool within, and Nic sat back relaxed–

But the Princess Enefta was less comfortable with the underground space. She sat against the wall at first, then began to twitch, preening at her feathers and picking at the dust underfoot. Within a few minutes she was on her feet, pacing back and forth…

Nic couldn’t help but follow the motion from the corners of his eyes, pulling him out of his half-sleeping state.”What?” He croaked irritably.

She glanced at him sharply, suddenly offended. “What? My people were killed. My sisters. My family. That’s what.” Her tone was disbelief and outrage. “And… Thank you for saving me. Thank you very much. But I can’t just sit still, right now, I have to… Have to…”

“Wanna fight?” Nic offered.

She swung all the way towards disbelief, looking at him like he was from another planet. Which, admittedly, Nic was.

“I’ll hold back.” He clarified. “I’ll even give you a freebie or two.”

“I…” She looked down. “I want to kill the people who killed my family. Not… butt horns senselessly, like we’re animal.”

Nic nodded. “Sure. I’ve got people I want dead too. And I think about them. Like, I used to think about them a lot. Every night, or else I couldn’t sleep. I’d count them like sheep going over the fences. I’d memorize the ways I would move, the ways I’d strike, I’d remember every bruise they gave me and go over how to dodge…”

The look she was giving him was not good. But Nic kept going.

“Don’t get me wrong. They did bad things to me. Bad enough that you can’t forget it without forgetting a bit of yourself, kinda, like letting go of the pain would mean letting go of the fact you didn’t deserve it. Some wounds can’t be healed until you pay them back. You have to stay angry, is the thing. Stay focused on the fact it was wrong. Stay focused on how you could change it…”

He shrugged. “People say revenge is wrong, but they’re cowards. Revenge is great. It’s great for all the people that won’t get hurt, because you put the bastard down.”

“That’s barbaric.” She said weakly, slumping back down against the wall. She put her knees up, and her arms around them, and her head down. And very softly she admitted, “And the problem is, I think I agree with you.”

“People are afraid of revenge because, like, it doesn’t have a place in little fights. If you want revenge over everything, you just build up a sickness inside, you go rabid. But in the end…” Nic smiled faintly. “I think of a world with just one big asshole, who kicks everyone around. The best thing would be for the little guys to gang up and kill him. If nobody does– if he keeps winning– then everyone else has to lose.”

“Sounds like your System.” She said bitterly.

And Nic paused.

“Yeah…” He admitted. “Yeah, I guess it does. Except with the System, you’ve got this big contest for second place. Second biggest asshole. And everyone’s too busy fighting over it to do the right thing…”

“Why are we talking about…” Her voice cracked. “Assholes and revenge?”

“Because I’ve got no idea what you’re feeling right now. You’re a princess. I’m not. I lost my family early and got used to it by the time I lost the next one. You’re still soft, and that’s not an insult, that’s a blessing. The only bit I can guess, the only bit we share…” Nic gestured. “Is that I know you want to punch something.”

She didn’t deny it.

“Stand up, c’mon.” Nic instructed, lifting himself off the ground and sliding into a loose, relaxed boxer’s stance.

She did, rising slowly, a puppet on shaky strings.

“Get your feet out like this…” Nic stomped, demonstrating the proper position. “Turn a little, yeah, like that, and lift your arms up. Pull your weight most of the way off the heel when you’re standing, but push down when you want to punch, like your whole body is coming off the ground into the blow.”

She didn’t really get it. Nic could already tell, she wasn’t born for this. If she wanted to learn, it’d take a lot of practice to be ‘passable’ and a lot of lucking out to survive until ‘good’.

“Go on.” He lifted his head. “Throw a punch.”

She basically fell into a haymaker that struck against his palm. And it was a haymaker in the bad sense, a roundabout that mistook big clumsy motion for strength. He caught it with his hand less because there was any chance of it stinging, but because the Princess might actually have hurt her own hand if she hit him with that little control.

“Again. Tighten it up. Use your elbow, not just your shoulder. Think of your arm like a spring. It has power when its close to your body, and then you extend that power out…”

She wasn’t really listening. Not to him, but to her body. Wasn’t letting it show her how to move. Her jab, at least, was better aimed. It smacked against his open palm without him needing to intercept.

“This isn’t…” She sniffled. “This isn’t making me feel better…”

“Yeah. Because you’re not hitting hard enough.” Nic snorted. “Really. Go wild. Stop trying to hit me, start trying to hurt me.”

“I don’t want…”

“Look me in the eyes.” Nic said, his voice cold and cool and carrying just a trace of the Old Speech, a hint of cold-iron authority. “And see your enemy.”

Their eyes met. She buttoned up her lip, biting down, and he saw her stance change slightly. Weight moved to the right places, tension building…

It was like a different person had stepped into her skin, and her eyes, the predatory gold of an eagle’s gaze, tightened until the pupils were black slits. He had seen her use gold-white flames before, and felt how his demonic side reacted to absorbing that holy light…

The hunger rose now as an aura of stern and holy power filled the air. Tiny flickers of flame burned at the edges of her sand-bronze skin and illuminated the golden-brown tips of her feathery wings.

That fire…

Gathered.

And surged.

Fire exploded from each wing like the burn of a rocket, singing the air in a wave of molten heat that launched her forward. Her leg came up, a smooth, powerful arc carrying a trail of sparks behind the heel. He caught the kick against his open palm–

And it hammered him across the sand, his feet skidding across the grit and dragging deep trenches.

She was still rising.

Her heel came swinging down, a hammerblow from above, a stomp. Nic blocked with crossed arms, flame exploding out from the impact in a perfectly circular shockwave, an expanding ring of golden fire that marked the moment of contact.

His own heels were hammered down into the earth.

She still had more. A final strike from the open-handed palm, trying to sweep past his defense. Nic turned aside, and it smashed into the wall.

The fires had flickered out. With that final blow, the energy propelling her burned away, dissolving into sparks. She sagged and dropped into his arms, a limp bundle of limbs shivering with exhaustion.

“That’s…” She mumbled. “All I can do.”

Which was maybe a good thing, because cracks were spreading through the tar holding the walls up. Nic had just time enough to sigh before the ceiling came crashing down on them, and he had to lift his hand, channeling aura through the Sandrider Blade to protect them.

---

Nic spent the better part of an hour digging. First, he took a long tunneling path around the oasis, maneuvering them to the opposite side. Just in case the enemy had spotted the earth caving in. Then he dug a new, better home…

Enefta was passed out by then, twitching, too exhausted to cry out in her sleep but still mumbling sounds of pure horror as nightmares washed over her.

Nic would still say that spar was worth it.

Not just because it helped her sleep at all…

Because when she said that was all she had…

Nic didn’t believe her for a second.