3.21 The Truth Seen Clearly

We left Crunei’s Garden more hopeful than when we’d arrived. And relieved too. It wasn’t like the team had wanted to risk themselves at the Intersection of the Assassins, but it had appeared to be the only way to pick up Borba’s trail. That idea was now proven false though, and we’d learned a last-known location for him—without endangering Tegen and Teila.

Mumu asked for directions once we were back on the street, and then we were on our way again. We continued to be mindful of ambushes, of course, but the press of people made the process of looking for danger so much harder than when in the wilderness.

Typically in a city, you’d filter out the majority of what you saw, heard, and smelled, and focused on anything that might be out of place. In Albei, though, nothing was familiar, and I had to re-learn what might be considered normal.

Also, and this was the kicker, an assassin would do their damnedest to fit in. The only effective weapon I possessed to counter that were my spirit eyes, so I kept them roving, doing my best to filter through the eddies of intentions and attentions flowing along with the people through the city’s streets.

Interestingly, the deeper we went into Geista, the fewer businesses we found on the first floors of the buildings we passed; the streets became primarily residential. Then, we came across a plaza, about big enough to fit Voorhei’s pyramid, and it was filled with people at tables hawking their wares. Around the edges were shops, and those businesses appeared to extend up to the second and third floors, almost like mini-department stores.

Mumu hesitated briefly, then must’ve decided to go through, because she cut her way between the tables, and we got to see what was on sale, even if only in passing. About a third were devoted to meat and produce, including a few live animals like goats and birds. Another third sold intermediary products like cloth, reeds, and wooden planks and blocks. And the final third were finished goods—mostly housewares but also some clothing and weapons.

The intrepid merchants weren’t put off by our war-like demeanor; they just called out louder when they saw us, especially the ones selling weapons. There was hunger in the air—for money, for recognition, for power—and a simmering rage too. I hadn’t been negligent in using my Status camera, and there were quite a few dusk people in the crowd. They seemed to have themselves under control, but this deep into Geista, the feeling was palpable.

The merchants were as diverse as the rest of the district, and their talents as varied. The more unusual ones included Gab Hand, Insightful Appraiser, Brash Sweetheart, and Heavy Thumb. The last sold herbs and spices, with all his transactions involving a scale. He didn’t seem to be getting a lot of business, though, and I suspected that people had caught onto his cheating ways.

I was especially interested in a couple of nisaak who looked like they might be brother and sister. Both had Nimble Hands for their first talents, but her second was Fire Affinity and his was Metal Affinity. Both were dressed in embroidered jackets stitched with red and silver thread, with the clothes clearly a cut above those worn by the people around them.

Mumu’s path took us right past their table, which had only a few items on it: four or five knives, a couple of war axes, and a collection of spearheads. The woman—Goost was her name— demonstrated a weapon that I’d never seen before. It about as long as a hunting knife; bladed on one side with a reinforced spine, like a machete; included only half a crossguard; and had a spike at the end for puncturing. The whole thing looked a lot like the capital letter ‘F.’

“It’s Level 2,” she said to a prospective customer, “using a 70-30 mixture of silver and darklight. The shape is new, developed by my brother and I.”

I could see how the spike could be useful for puncturing through hide or chitin, but wouldn’t it interfere with the knife’s ability to cut? You also wouldn’t be able to drive it in very deep, not like a stiletto. She must’ve had some faith in it, though. Level 2 meant they’d invested at least 250 silverlight into the weapon. What would it feel like in the hand, I wondered. And there was another knife, a more traditional one with a long, triangular blade. The steel looked almost milky in the morning light.

Tegen turned towards where I’d slowed. “Eight, stay with us.”

I’d have to come back later to replace my knives, and there may also be something that Ikfael would like too. I jogged a couple of steps to catch up to Tegen, but immediately stopped when Mumu whistled a caution.

The team closed in on Tegen’s position, and she directed our attention to Aslishtei striding quickly around the outer edges of the market. Krees Bladesdotter, who I’d earlier assumed was her bodyguard, followed just a step behind, and it was gratifying to be proven right.

Also following, but at a distance, was Rulus of Dezanata. He was trying to be more circumspect.

“I count three,” Haol said.

“Same,” Mumu said. “Eight, is there anyone hidden?”

Knife shopping forgotten, I scanned the area. “No, and no sign of the other two from the intersection. They might’ve stayed behind.”

The five of us stood, an island of watchfulness in the middle of the market, the people nearby ignoring us to focus on the brother-sister pair’s goods. Meanwhile, at the market’s edge, the crowd scurried out of Aslishtei’s path. It took only moments for her to leave the plaza by turning onto a side street—the very same one we’d been headed towards.

“I don’t like this,” Mumu said.

“Maybe she’d heard that Borba had been sighted?”

“Hopefully, that’s what it is,” Mumu said, but she didn’t elaborate. Instead, she took off at a quick pace. I made a note of the smiths’ names—Goost and Pleik—and chased after her along with the rest of the team.

You’d think an armed group hurrying through a crowd would draw some attention, and we did to a degree, but it was fleeting—a quick look to make sure there wasn’t anything alarming—and then folks went back to their business. We encountered more annoyance than anything else, and that was from getting in people’s way because of our own hurrying.

“Aslishtei probably knows something we don’t,” I said.

Tegen’s face was stern. “We should prepare ourselves in case there's been another murder.”

Mumu’s spirit became more agitated, and she broke into a run.

“Backtrail,” Tegen signed, but I was already on it.

I slipped behind him, one hand on his back, trusting him to break trail and guide me, while I kept my spirit eyes focused behind us to make sure we weren’t being stalked. When he turned, sped up, or slowed down, I felt it through my arm and matched his pace and direction.

The movements required a kind of side-running that wasn’t intuitive, but they were taught in the lodge, and my team had done its share of practicing them. The full version involved the whole team connected, each of us looking in a different direction, but that was more necessary for teams without ours’s sensory abilities and/or situations requiring the utmost caution.

We left the plaza behind, running for two blocks before a low whistle from Mumu slowed us. I peeked around Tegen to catch her slipping around the corner of a T-intersection, and a moment later, she returned and signaled us to Camouflage, which we did. Then, we snuck forward to see that the corner turned onto a cul-de-sac five buildings deep on each side and one more at the far end.

All of the buildings were in the gray-stoned, ‘rounded tower’ style preferred by the peltwei. Interestingly, each of the residences was connected to its neighbors by bridges, and from the bridges hung wind chimes, their music heard faintly.

Ropes were strung between the buildings, and along the ropes were attached streamers in riot of colors—yellows, purples, greens, and reds. Tables with bench seating occupied the middle of the road, the rows covered by open-air tents patterned in the same colors. Two more tents stood to each side of the seating, both with raised platforms. One looked like a bandstand, while the other had four chairs arranged in a shallow half circle so that anyone sitting could watch the show.

A part of me noted that they were the first chairs I’d ever seen in this world. Not even Ghitha’s house had been furnished with them.

Only one person was sitting—an old man with a long beard braided with black ribbons. He had a narrow, mild-looking face. Aslishtei stood over him with her hands on her hips, but it didn’t seem to faze him.

At his back stood... well, what do you know... it’s Makul the Journeyman Healer. And there’s Rulus whispering in his ear.

Now we know who Rulus belongs too, Yuki said.

Which means there were two representatives from the Healer’s Lodge at the Intersection of the Assassins. Is it a case of factions fighting with each other, after all—

Mumu interrupted the thought when she whispered, “The master healer's presence is a bad sign.”

A what? I looked at the old man again.

Vorkut the Master Healer (Human, Dawn)

Talents: Diagnostical, Astute, Bookish, Underestimated

Tegen explained, “Only masters within the Healer’s Lodge are allowed beards, and the ribbons are a sign of honorable service. This one, then, is high ranked—an elder among them.”

“Any scent of Borba?” Haol asked.

“I have a feeling...” Mumu’s words trailed off.

I turned my focus inward, and blocked out the sights and sounds of people walking along the main street behind us. Mumu was right; there was a lingering taint in the air—Borba had at least passed this way.

Had he entered the cul-de-sac? Yes, the scent was stronger in that direction, and there was... there was... I closed my physical eyes and became one with the land.

Once again, I felt the city—the order in the chaos and chaos in the order—but two things stood out, drawing my attention: the soft cries of people in distress and the faint sense of watchful, cunning, hungry attention occasionally brushing past me.

“He’s here,” I whispered. “Borba’s close enough to watch this place.”

My heart beat fast in anticipation; I wiped my palms and made sure of my grip on my spear. Tension spiraled through the whole team, and I heard the sounds of bows being strung.

“Teila with Haol. Bows only. Tegen, Eight, and I will engage directly.” Mumu’s voice was as taut as her spirit. “He’s in one of the buildings; I sense danger from... one of the ones across from the spousal tent.”

I nodded. In the building directly across from where Aslishtei and Vorkut conversed, that was where I sensed the distress. “The one with the vines carved around the door,” I clarified for the others.

The building was four stories tall and patterned with windows. Most were shuttered closed, but a few were open, some partially, some completely.

“If I know Borba,” Mumu said. “He’ll pick the fourth floor.”

“Agreed,” Tegen said. “He’s changed since turning dusk, but still prefers to start engagements at the farthest distance possible.”

“I see slight movement in the shadows of the window farthest right,” Haol said.

I focused on the window, and spotted glimmers of a spirit moving back and forth. Even at a distance, I could taste the blood covering it. “That’s him.”

“The bridges are going to be a problem,” Tegen said.

Haol tapped his bowstave as he thought. “If there’s only one way up to the fourth floor, that means three exits. Can we can count on only one way up?”

No one had an answer for him.

“I never thought to study peltwei architecture,” Tegen said into the silence.

“We can ask Aslishtei,” I said. “She’s right there. We are going to ask for help, aren’t we? I mean with the fighting. We need to overwhelm Borba or else we risk him escaping again.”

Mumu didn’t respond. She was Camouflaged, but my eyes let me see she was biting her lower lip. Meanwhile, her spirit roiled fiercely—clouds of dark, red, gold, and silver turning over each other.

“Mumu,” I said carefully, “we have to.”

“Borba is our lodge’s shame,” she said, angry. “We’ll be careful, not risking more than we need to, but our team will deal with him alone.”

I swear, my vision turned red in that moment, and I nearly lost it. Just over the course of the day, we’d—she’d—made such progress, and then we were back to this? My emotions spiraled into—

Calm down, Yuki said, intruding into my thoughts.

Telling someone to calm down only makes things worse!

All right, then pretend Mumu is Alex, and it’s the time when you caught her coming home at 3 am drunk.

When she went joy riding? Jesus, I nearly hit her. After everything I’d promised myself about how I’d treat my own kids too.

But you didn’t, Yuki said.

No, I thought, taking a deep breath. I didn’t.

Alex didn’t know better, or else she would’ve done better, right? The same is true for Mumu.

But Alex did know better, I countered. And so does Mumu.

Then something’s getting in the way—an emotion or a desire or fear.

Right. Trauma makes everything messy. Everyone in Voorhei suffered from it, including Mumu. Not just because of Inleio’s murder either, but also everything she’d lived through previously. I had to remember that there were no straight lines when healing from trauma. There’d always be moments of regression. All right, I’ll make one attempt to reach her, but just one. If it doesn’t work, I’m going to involve Aslishtei whether Mumu likes it or not. We don’t have time for anything else.

That's fair, Yuki said. The consequences won’t be good, but our love for her and hers for us will survive it.

Yes, I’d seen it in her eyes. If it came to it, she’d forgive me.

We didn’t have time for a well-ordered argument or an impassioned speech—Borba could flee at any moment—so... so... all I could rely on was... a flash of silver from within Mumu’s spirit caught my eye.

“What’s more important?” I asked. “The lodge’s honor or its survival?”

“What question is this, Little Pot?” Mumu turned to scowl. “We don’t have time for games.”

“Oh, the question’s real,” I said, “because that’s what you’re deciding, right here, right now.”

“How do you mean?” Tegen asked.

Right. I wasn’t alone. The rest of the team was here too, and they could help.

“Aslishtei is high up in the land soldier hierarchy, right? And we’re squatting at the edge of a city block that’s all peltwei, where two peltwei families very likely joined together last night.” I took another breath to get myself under control. “She obviously knows the people who live here; she cared enough about them to rush over. So, if our actions make this situation worse—if her people die because we didn't use every resource available to us—then she’s going to become our lodge’s enemy, one who has the ear of the land knight.”

The spirits of the hunters stilled.

“She already doesn’t like us,” I added. “We’ll only be making the situation worse if we don’t include her.”

Their armor rustled as they considered my words.

“We could also use her strength—”

“That’s enough.” Mumu sighed. “You’ve made your point clear enough.”

“So, we’re going to ask for help?”

There was so much reluctance in Mumu’s spirit, but she forced herself to nod. To say, “Yes.”

Relief washed through me, and took my anger with it. “Thank you, it’s the right decision.”

Mumu struggled a moment longer, then said, “There are times, Little Pot, when you are very, very frustrating.”

“I’m not sorry.”

"No, and you shouldn’t be. A hunter relies on seeing the truth of the world clearly, and to do that, they must recognize their own truths first. I will never begrudge you or anyone else helping me face mine, even when it’s painful. My path demands it... all our paths do.” In a softer, smaller voice she added. “I just may not like it at the time.”

Tegen cleared his throat. “How do we involve Aslishtei in our plan?”

Mumu glanced up towards the building with Borba in it. “If she can hold the lower floor, our team can approach from the bridges. Tegen, Haol, and Teila to one side, and Eight and I on the other.”

“Assuming there’s only one entrance from below,” Haol said.

“Even if there are more, she might be able to hold the floor alone,” I said. “She’s a summoner, remember?”

“Of small birds,” Haol said. “That’s all we’ve seen from her.”

Well, and a huge-ass snake too, but my team didn’t know about that. My first day on this world had really been a tough one.

“Would the land soldiers value her so much if all she could do was force people to tell the truth and see hidden dangers. Ah, never mind, that’s a dumb question. Yes, they would. Still, given how she’s behaved, we can assume she’s capable of more, plus, we can just ask her.”

Mumu’s gaze lingered in my direction, then she shook her head to clear it. “The team will hold around the corner to conserve qi, while Eight approaches Aslishtei to inform her of the situation and collect what she knows of the building and what she’s willing to share of her abilities. We’ll assume a three-pronged attack for now, but will adapt once we understand the situation better.”

“And if Borba runs before we’re ready?” Tegen asked.

“We immediately give chase, with whoever is closest to Aslishtei calling out to her about what’s happening.”

“The healers will see and hear everything,” Haol pointed out.

I heard the creak of five different sets of knuckles tightening on weapons.

“Then so be it,” Mumu said, her voice flat. “We’ll deal with them as necessary.” She turned to me. “Now get going. The delay was useful, but the time has come for revenge.”