Chapter 342

342 Night Stalker

Plotline: Main

Type: Social

Night Stalker actually turned out to be quite amiable; not all predators are.

“Oh, laughing gods!” Kismet hissed. “It IS her; and we can’t DO anything about it, not under the treaty ward.”

“Which her?” Madonna asked.

“Fu Bana, one of the two surviving Nine.” Kismet said.

“Well, the ward can’t get you if you just talk, right?” I asked.

Kismet clenched her jaw and shook her head. “I’ll end up as a lump of charcoal if I try talking to her now. Besides -”

The floor came up and slapped my left side. I had just enough time to wonder what was going on.

.....

[Lucid Dreaming enforced.]

Enforced? That wasn’t the usual message.

I found myself on a dark riverbank, resting on a bed of broad leafed papyrus. Well, I say resting; those stems didn’t evolve for comfort.

I swiveled my head (my actual head, because dream logic) around. Just beneath the water, some kind of conclave of well dressed crocodiles was ending. One of those Sobeks emerged from the water near me.

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It was disconcerting; one instant he was walking on all fours, and then he was walking erect, without bothering to stand between the two. Like so many things in the Dreamlands, it just was.

I didn’t have that power, and rose to one knee.

“Hail, Sobek, Lord of the Blessed River...” I began.

“Oh, cut the crap.” he said. “If you really meant no disrespect, you’d be properly prone on your belly.”

“I swore only service, not servitude. I find your continued insistence they are the same to be equally annoying.”

There was a rumble, somewhere below where his throat passed through his collar-bone. “God. Mortal. What I ask is not unreasonable, and is in fact, tradition.”

“In your culture, which I’ve had little luck fostering among my fellow mortals.”

“I didn’t summon you here to discuss your ongoing failures. I have chosen to give you a dire warning.”

One of my eyes exploded in pain. “Ah! Please hurry, my fellow mortals are trying to wake me.”

“Forgive me if I find their disrespect of your needs familiar. Heed my warning, the servant of the Raven...”

The second hit did it.

“I’m awake, I’m awake!” I said, raising my feeble unscaled hands to protect my eyeballs from further strikes. “And now, I need to get to sleep.”

“No.” Kismet said. “You don’t.”

[You cannot engage that ability without Dream mana.]

What, but I had Dream mana?

[You have 0/4 points of Dream mana.]

Well, I could convert from...

[You have 0/8 Points of Water mana, 0/4 of Ocean and 0/4 of River.]

I should have two, unless...

[Across thirteen mana pools and fifteen faith pools, you have a total of 0 mana and faith.]

Even distracted, I brought up a forearm, blocking Kismet’s wrist with my own.

“Ow, that actually friggin hurt, Rhishi.” she whispered at me.

“Ping.” Madonna reminded. “We are where other ears can hear.”

I notice that Kismet barely glared at Madonna. The two of them were getting along together so much better than normal. I wondered what they were scheming together.

“I am NOT calling you Ping.” Kismet told me.

I shrugged. “I won’t lose any sleep over it.” I said. “So why am I losing sleep now?”

“Ugh. Pay attention.” she said. “That is Fu Bana, one of two survivors of the Nine.”

“I may be behind on my gossip.” Madonna said. “Are they spies, infiltrators, or saboteurs?”

“They’re traitors, and I’ve an interest in seeing them all dead and buried.” Kismet said.

“I thought your duties...” Madonna said.

“A personal interest.” Kismet said.

“Ah. I understand. Wrath trumps Sloth.”

“What? No, it’s... you know what, fine. It’s vengeance. As a priest of vengeance, I call upon you.” She nudged me in the shoulder, just in case I were about to mistake Madonna as a priest of vengeance. In retrospect, she probably would have made a fine one, though.

“You,” Kismet continued. “Are going to help me gain vengeance upon that woman, Fu Bana. She’s a traitor, and a murderer and she needs to die.”

I cocked my head to the side. “That’s going to be tricky, given that if we even try anything, the ward is going to blast us all into smithereens.”

“Not me.” Madonna said. “I’m not responsible for anything you two idiots get up to.”

“Daurian ward, Daurian values.” Kismet said. “A wife is responsible for the poor face of her husbands.”

Madonna blinked. “If I were to forbid you to harm that woman...”

I spread my hands to indicate sincerity. “I swear I have no intentions of harming or bringing to harm Fu Bana, certainly not within the purview of the ward.”

“Coward!” Kismet hissed. “Traitor! How DARE you choose a stranger over me? I’m one of the few friends you actually have!”

“I doubt my friends would want me blasted into smithereens.”

“Well,” Madonna said, “you can be irritating at times.”

“Like now.” Kismet said, crossing her arms before her. “We need to have some manner of figuring out her intentions.”

“You mean like wandering over there and asking?” I said

“That is not amusing.” Madonna said.

“Nor practical.” Kismet said. “If we confront her with who she really is, she’ll just laugh at us and openly switch sides.”

“If she isn’t actually on their side all along.” Madonna said. “We know that the inmates had infiltrated the guards quite thoroughly.”

“Ugh.” she said. “There’s got to be a way to win, here. I mean, she’s right there!”

Madonna reached out, pressing down firmly on a shoulder with her fan. “No.” she told me.

“No?” I asked.

“This is not time to decide to lose gracefully.” Madonna said.

“Rhishi, you weren’t.” Kismet said.

“I really wasn’t.” I said.

“Good.” Kismet said. “She’s done too much harm to our side to go free now.”

Fu Bana might not be able to go free, but she opened the cage holding Night Stalker, the owl. He set about exploring our quarters, including under beds and behind pillows.

Remember when I said he still had a role to play? “Do we have any other Aware animals among us?” I asked.

“Stay on topic.” Kismet said.

“I am on topic,” I said, “Or at least an earlier one. Did any of the animals take the oaths?”

“What oaths?” Kismet asked.

“Would the ward not just fry them and their owners?” Madonna said.

“Not if the friends and superiors of the animals were outside of the reach of the ward.” I said. “If those people were never here, would the ward even be able to tell who they were?”

“No.” Kismet said. “Just no. You’re talking about using the Awakened as suicide soldiers.”

“It’s genius, though.” Madonna said. “They never swore all their side would be in uniform. All it takes is for one of our side to strike one of their animals, and the ward will slay that person and all their superiors, up to General Hyun.”

“Tell me that the ward is set up to detect hostility.” Kismet said.

“Of course.” Madonna said. “They can’t, for example, have a bug fly under someone’s descending foot and trigger it that way. It would have to be some animal that holds actual rank, such as a dog or horse.”

I blinked. “Or a messenger bird. All it takes is for one of our side to go hunting, and kill the wrong animal.”

Kismet scratched her left ear. “No, they’re feeding us too well for that to be the case.”

“Still, it’s a cunning plan.” Madonna said. “The ward wouldn’t strike the rebels for killing their own, but would smite any of our soldiers who did.”

.....

“Dogs.” Kismet said. “If dogs were to attack someone, in the presence of bodyguards....”

“The ward would turn them into sausage stuffing before the guards could move.”

“What if they didn’t intend to do harm?” I said. “Our soldiers have their full armor on. I know I still react when animals fasten onto my wrist guards or my greaves.”

“One angry kick.” Kismet said.

“Good thing we have a messenger right here, to run directly to the general and warn him. He’s even good at running.”

I looked around. “I don’t see him.”

“Because there are no mirrors set up, doofus.” Kismet said. “And no, it has to be you.”

“Me?” Madonna asked.

“You. Mage. Noble. One of thirteen on our side who helped to set up the ward?”

Madonna smiled. “And if he promises me a reward and then doesn’t deliver, then I have claim on his soul.”

“Oh, give the soul-grabbing a rest.” Kismet said.

“Why would I, when I am so obviously very good at it?”

I reached out, grabbed their traveling cloaks. “Honored nobles, perhaps we could have this discussion as we walk?”

“Fine.” Madonna said, extending an arm. “I give you leave to dress me and fasten my shoes upon my feet.”

“Dress your own damn self.” Kismet grumbled. “We don’t have time.”

“I know.” Madonna smiled. “How is your Vanity, husband? Will you tell me...”

I shoved the sleeve onto her arm, was not gentle bending her other arm to receive the sleeve. “Class holding Manservant, my wife.” I said in Achean. “It’s all just single XP awards to me.”

“XP?” she asked. “Not EXP?”

“XP.” I said. “Experience.”

“How very rustic.” she said.