Chapter 88 - Strange Encounters

Rock

I pushed open the moldy wooden door to a hut just inside the Black Wood. The building reeked of herbs and fungus, with strings of drying vegetables and ingredients dangling from the low ceiling.

“Back so soon?” The voice was thin and weak. A cursed tomte.

Dealing with the bastards… I still didn’t enjoy it. But my people had a saying. “If it’s hard, it is probably worth doing, or maybe it’s just a stone.”

I knew people here thought I was humorless, but they simply didn’t have the same talent for jokes my tribe had. I would need to return to them before too long. I was down to my last Stone Elixir, and my tribe was the only place to reliably find the Geobulb Vine used to craft it. It would be a welcome rest after the events of the past weeks.

I waited just inside the building, saying nothing.

The cursed tomte named Crackletooth emerged from the back. He carried a tray of murky-colored potions that sloshed dangerously with each limping step he took.

A scent of sulfur and rot reached my nose.

Crackletooth studied me with one bulging eye. The other was scarred and burned shut.

“Same as last time, yes?” he asked. “Yes! Of course it’s the same. He always gets the same thing. Every time. Heh heh…” Crackletooth kept muttering to himself as he set down the tray, then moved to a cluttered shelf full of different-sized vials and bottles. Some were stoppered and others sat open to the air.

Crackletooth lifted one of the bottles, shrugged, and drank the whole thing with a wince. He laughed a little, then dropped the empty bottle, which rolled on the sloped floor beneath a table to clatter against others.

He plucked a single vial of the purple potion, gave me a meaningful look, then shuffled toward me with it in hand.

I waited, arms folded.

Crackletooth laughed to himself again, then stuck out an empty palm. “Price has gone up. Supply and demand, hm?”

I stared harder.

He laughed, lifting his hand in surrender and shrinking a bit. For a tomte, I was rather large. We were also far enough from Riverwell that nobody would hear his screams out here. Then again, few would worry about the screams of a cursed tomte.

“Okay, okay,” Crackletooth grumbled. “Same price.”

I extended a gold coin. Crackletooth took it and bit down hard on it, drooling a bit.

Sometimes, I wondered what a hermit in the woods did with the money. Most times, I didn’t care. If his potions worked, they worked. My tribe had a saying about curiosity. “Swallow your questions, or they might give birth to more questions.”

I really did miss my people. These flatlanders didn’t understand good jokes. They didn’t understand how to stop flapping their gums for even a few seconds. Always talking. Always making noise.

The cursed tomte gave me the vial. He raised a crooked finger, licking his lips as he stashed the gold coin in his stained vest. “They think I’m stupid. I know they do. But I’m not stupid. I know my numbers, see? I know this is potion number nine. Did you know that? Nine times you’ve come. So, Crackletooth wonders… How old are you trying to make them? Hm? Is this a nasty trick on your enemy? Older every day? Wondering why their face gets so saggy so fast? Devious, devious, devious. I like it. Or is it a child? Eager for them to grow up?”

“Sometimes, questions give answers. Sometimes, they give questions,” I said.

Crackletooth narrowed his eyes at me, head tilted. “Huh?”

I sighed. I dearly missed my people. We would have all shared a long, hearty laugh at that one.

I turned and left the hut. I could be back in Riverwell before sundown. If Crackletooth kept making more of these, this whole business could be done within another week or two. Then I could head home for my tribe.

Yes, I would like that. It was as my people said: “The tomte who walks far from home still has a long way to walk.”

I laughed to myself as I walked alone in the forest, wiping a tear from my eye.

Gods. I missed them.

Rake

I waited patiently in a shitty tavern somewhere in the bowels of Coil. I had my hood drawn as I used my dagger to pluck chunks of wood from the tabletop. When the serving-maids gave me dirty looks, I smiled, which sent them scurrying off.

I considered myself a highly connected man. Over the years, my work had brought me in close contact with many of the underbelly types—the sorts of men and women who knew the real players in every city. I knew who to ask for unsavory job opportunities. I knew who to talk to if I wanted to be paid for assassination, robbery, or kidnapping. I knew which nobles were corrupt and would take bribes. I knew which ones were weak to threats.

But there was one thing I prided myself on: I was the one who sought these people out. Nobody ever had tabs on me. Nobody waited for me or knew how to find me for jobs. I came to them.

So when somebody I had never seen before approached me less than an hour after I escaped the dungeon and landed in Coil, I knew I was dealing with a very powerful someone. Probably somebody worth listening to, at least.

The girl sitting across from me had just… appeared. One moment, I was trying to book passage on the gravity wells, the next, she was behind me with cold iron pressed into my side. I admired the balls of it, so I left my knives in their sheathes.

It was a lucky choice, as I was fairly sure now this girl was at least Silver.

She had jet black hair and a white tattoo like a bar across her eyes and the bridge of her nose. Naturally, I assumed she was the important one when she told me we would speak about a job opportunity here.

But we arrived half an hour ago, and all she did was sit there and glare.

So the powerful girl had an even more powerful master, it seemed.

Color me intrigued.

The waiting gave me plenty of time to stew over the bullshit in Beastden. I still didn’t understand how Helmet had done it. The only answer I had was that he had been pulling the wool over my eyes from the start. Even back in The Black Wood, he must have been veiling his true power. It would explain how they managed to walk away from the briarwraith. I nearly got myself killed just dealing with its minions, and yet Helmet and his friends had somehow slipped away from the briarwraith itself while I was occupied. I still hadn’t ever figured out where the damn thing had gone, even though I wasted a full day searching for it.

None of it had ever made sense, and now I supposed I knew why.

The little shit had been playing me all along.

That was fine, though. I even respected his hustle. I could admire a man who knew how to toy with people. I was only pissed that I hadn’t seen it coming.

Unfortunately for him, I was perfectly crafted to collect on grudges, and Helmet was only making certain I would never rest until I had taken my fee from him in blood.

The door opened to the tavern and a man slipped inside. He wore a hooded cloak and had a long, white beard. His movements were fluid and precise as he approached. Without paying attention, it might be easy to miss. I didn’t miss this sort of thing.

The man with the white beard was a very, very dangerous man.

The girl with the white bar tattoo stiffened and the pace of her breathing increased, but she kept her eyes down on the table.

I pretended not to notice it, but my own heart was beating a bit faster as he came closer. It had been a long time since I felt this way, but I felt the same as the forest critters must when the apex predator comes stalking through the bushes behind them.

And yet I was getting jack shit from his aura, as if he was as powerful as a wet blade of grass.

“This your boss?” I asked. 

“Shut up,” she hissed.

He took the seat beside the girl, head bowed so I could only see the white of his beard. He lowered his hood, surprising me with a youthful face. His hair was pure white, despite him looking to be in his early twenties. It was parted in the middle and fell in curving clumps that pointed toward icy white irises.

I watched him, eyes narrowing.

He smiled, showing a pair of canine teeth that were slightly too long and pointed. “Rake, is it?” he asked.

“Who’s asking?”

The girl beside drew two daggers and slammed them point-first into the table in a blink. The loud sound earned us a few stares from patrons who quickly went back to pretending we didn’t exist.

Probably smart.

Her eyes blazed as she clutched the knives with white-knuckled fury. “You will watch your tone.”

I raised an eyebrow. “The only thing I watch is my back,” I said.

“And yet I walked upon it with ease and put a knife to your kidney,” she whispered.

I shrugged. “Power is power. It’s why I want more. If you two bothered to go to the trouble of bringing me here, it means you need something from me. So let’s cut the bullshit and posturing. Tell me what you need my skills for, and I’ll decide if the deal’s worth it for me.”

The white-haired man leaned forward, just slightly. The movement was enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I tried to sense his power again, but I got absolutely nothing. It was as if he was a level 1 Wood, but I didn’t think that was possible. More likely, he had perfect control over his aura, and was veiling every last scrap of it from me.

A fresh chill ran through me. Was he Gold? Maybe even Diamond?

I suddenly felt as though I was trapped in a cage with a monster. A Gold or Diamond could turn this place to a pile of steaming body parts and scraps of wood in moments. I might not even see the attack coming.

I relaxed my posture slightly. If this white-haired guy was truly that powerful, there was no point in being on guard. If he wanted me dead, I was dead.

“You’ve encountered a man who calls himself Brynn, correct?” he asked.

“That’s right. Want information on him? I accept payment first, answers second.” If he wanted something from me, I could worry less about death. If I wasn’t worried about dying, I was damn sure going to milk this for every piece of coin I could.

He shook his head slowly. “No. There’s a tournament in one month being held in Thrask. You’re going to enter it as a combatant. I have reason to believe… Brynn will participate.”

There was an odd pause before he said the name “Brynn,” as if it didn’t quite flow on his tongue. 

“How would you know what he’s going to do a month from now?” I asked.

The silver-haired man’s face was unsettling. Even when he showed emotion, it felt… fake, as if he was wearing a mask and occasionally altering it to suit his needs. My question made the mask look amused. “I know because I’m going to make certain he wants to join.”

There was a finality to the statement, as if it was beyond doubt or question.

I ran my tongue across my teeth, deciding not to push the issue. “So Helmet enters the tournament, and you want me to join because you’re hoping a happy accident involving Brynn occurs? Simple enough. But let’s say, hypothetically, I refuse to help you.”

The girl leaned in, answering for the man I assumed to be her master. “You’ll do as you're told. Enter the tournament. The rest will be revealed to you when you need to know more.”

I snorted, sitting back and throwing an arm over the chair beside me. “I’ve never been very good at doing what I’m told. Unless, of course, I’m rewarded with properly motivating payment.” In truth, I was already interested. Their little scheme gave me a crack at Helmet, and that was reward enough. But the only thing better than revenge was getting paid to get revenge. “So,” I said. “What is your offer?”

“I won’t turn you inside out,” the white-haired man said. He didn’t puff himself up. He didn’t snarl or make a face to convince me he was capable of killing me. He only spoke the words quietly and with so little passion I felt my stomach give a jolt of unease.

“That is… somewhat compelling, I’ll admit. But we’re still talking and I’m still rightside in, you could say. That means negotiation is on the table, if you ask me.”

“You will obey,” the girl said.

I waved her off, rolling my eyes. “I’m curious… Why do you need me to do this? I’m assuming your power is veiled, yes? If you’re so strong, can’t you kill Helmet yourself? Why bother with all this?” I asked, waving my hand between the three of us. “Surely it’s not because you enjoy my company. Most don’t,” I added with a grin.

The man plastered on the most unnatural fucking smile I had ever seen. “Because you don’t understand a thing. And this is the way it will be done. Prove useful enough, and I may even allow you to have your answers in time. Maybe you’ll even earn a spot by my side.”

I looked down at the table, using my knife to pluck a fresh chunk of wood from the table. “Hmm. I hate to break it to you, but I don’t really fancy being by anybody’s side. Unless it’s a big ass pile of money, that is. So I’m still breathing and you still need me. If you need me, you’ll pay me.” I raised my eyes to the man. “Doesn’t get much more simple than that, friend.” 

The man’s gaze lingered on me, making it feel as though my insides were gathering frost.

The knife in my hand suddenly turned so cold it felt hot against my palm. I hissed, dropping it and turning my hand over. There was a mark branded into my flesh, even though the knife handle was leather and unadorned.

I stared at the raised skin, which was giving off what looked like steam. Fuck, that hurt.

My skin had lifted in the shape of a pitchfork with a “V” over the top of it. “What the hell did you do?” I whispered.

“Consider it a reminder,” he said.

The girl bared her teeth, holding her palm toward me, showing she had the same mark on her hand, though it wasn’t fresh like mine. “Welcome to the fold, Brother.”

“Pay him,” he said dismissively to the girl as he stood. “You have one month, Rake. If you’re not registered for the tournament, you’ll die before it begins. It will be exceptionally painful.”

He walked away, leaving me with the girl.

She wrenched her daggers from the table, nostrils flaring as she looked at me.

“Well,” I said, composing myself as I clutched my burning palm under the table. I spared a smile for the girl. She was creepy, kind of an asshole, and could probably kill me. But I had slept with worse. “I’ll still be in the city tonight. You’re welcome to warm my bed tonight.”

In a blink, she was behind my chair with the edge of her knife pressed against my throat. Her voice was a soft whisper in my ear. “For a man who watches his back, yours is exceptionally easy to find.”

“You smell nice,” I said as I lifted my chin, trying not to cut myself on her blade. If I had to guess, it was probably poisoned.

She made a disgusted noise, then threw a heavy purse of coins straight into my crotch.

I groaned, leaning forward and squeezing my eyes shut in pain. When I opened them, she was gone.

I blew out a breath, then pulled the string on the purse open. Gold coins glittered from within. Well, I’d take gold over women any day. I couldn’t be too upset about that.

I smiled to myself. I could try to take the money and run, of course.

But that man… I couldn’t sense a scrap of his power. Somehow, I just didn’t buy the idea that he was actually level 1 Wood. He gave off danger like light from a flame, veiled aura or not.

If he was Gold, I might have a slim chance of slipping away and surviving. If he was Diamond, though? I’d be fucked. He would likely be able to find me, no matter how far I ran. I had briefly worked for a Diamond years ago, and vowed to stay the fuck away from them in the future. 

Maybe it didn’t matter. Powerful or not, he only wanted me to do exactly what I had planned to do in the first place. Now I was getting paid for it.

I wondered what the hell the white-haired man had planned, though. Why not snap his fingers and obliterate Helmet? Why bother with the theatrics and subtlety?

Usually, I prided myself on having the answers. After all, finding them was usually only a matter of threatening the right people. But when the answers were held by those more powerful than myself, things got trickier. This time, I may have to settle for hoping his bullshit wouldn’t get in the way of what I really cared about, which was making sure Helmet died slowly enough to regret fucking with me.

He had been lucky and caught me off guard.

Next time, he would be the one surprised when he found me walking into the arena across from him. He’d imagine he was safe because of the protections, but I would put money on Mr. White Hair having some way around that.

Yeah. I smiled to myself. This was going to be fun.

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