Chapter Nine.

“The key to any misdirection is to keep it simple.” Leigh said quietly as we hurried down an alleyway a few hours later. “Every point of complexity in a plan is an additional point of failure waiting to happen. Failure in this case being we get caught and obliterated by Lord Hakkon. The best way to trick someone, is to give them part of the real picture and let them fill in the rest with a few creative ‘nudges’ in the direction you want. Confirmation bias will do half the work of making them think they’re right even in the face of blatant evidence otherwise. Do it well and by the time they get their heads on straight you’ll be in the next country!”

I gave him the side-eye as we kept walking.

“Thanks for the ‘conman 101’ seminar. The plan is still terrible.”

“Well yours was worse. I mean really, pretend to attack me to throw them off the scent? Fake deaths? A vague notion of ‘somehow we escape at the end’? That’s like a terrible play put on to entertain children so their parents can have the afternoon off.” Leigh scoffed.

“Hey! I was on the spot! Sorry for not realizing I was in the presence of a professional scammer.” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Apology accepted. My plan has subtlety, and more importantly, deniability. Your plan tried too hard to be clever, and in my experience an overabundance of cleverness is how small-timers get caught.” He sniffed haughtily.

“Subtlety??” I blurted out, gesturing to the huge bundles of torn, dirty canvas— we’d picked them out of garbage piles near the docks on the river— that both of us were currently loaded up with.

“All in the execution, kid.” Leigh winked at me and I couldn’t help rolling my eyes.

Darting through side-streets and alleyways, we made our way towards the ‘nicer’ part of town where Leigh was sure the marshals would be staying. We stayed well away from the main streets, not just because they were heavily patrolled by the guard at night but because the city thoroughfares were surprisingly well lit by gas-fueled lanterns spaced evenly throughout. Two ostensibly wanted men rushing down the street with piles of soiled canvas would probably have raised some eyebrows, and sticking to the dark didn’t seem to bother either of us.

When we’d gone far enough for Leigh, he stopped us in a sheltered spot between a few buildings.

“Right, here’s good. Go ahead and change now, don’t want to ruin those nice new clothes of yours. I’ll keep an eye out.” He said before turning and leaving me in relative privacy.

Feeling exceedingly self-conscious and muttering darkly to myself about the stupidity of Leigh’s plan, I hurriedly stripped out of the dark clothes I’d been given and transformed back into my Kindred shape.

“Done.” I gurgled out.

Leigh turned around and we started wrapping me up in the dirty canvas, strategically tying knots and forming a primitive robe/shawl combo that (mostly) obscured what I was underneath, while still definitely showing I wasn’t human. I now looked like some kind of horrible sea monster that crawled out of the river, with an appropriately menacing vibe.

“I notice that in your plan, I’m the only one at risk.” I couldn’t help saying.

“Nonsense. I’m here aren’t I? Now remember, all you have to do is be seen. No lines, no speeches, no fancy maneuvers, just ‘oh look, a monster!’ and then you run to the river and dive in. The water is deep in this stretch and it flows fast, but you’ll be fine. Get straight to the bottom and make your way upstream. When you get to the warehouse district, look for a dock with one lit lantern over a sign with a red moth— I’ll be waiting close by with your clothes. Got it?” Leigh asked, seriously.

After a moment of hesitation, I nodded, smothering my nervousness with the knowledge that this would— hopefully— help Joan. Our plan basically revolved around two facts; that Delmoth was a warded city, and that ninety-nine percent of people didn’t know [Outer Kindred] existed let alone what they looked like. Leigh was almost uniquely well-travelled among this world's people which is how he knew what I was, but the robes masked me just enough that even if the marshals knew about my current species they shouldn’t be able to get an ID other than ‘not human’. Between the canvas material and the fact that I'd be escaping into the river, Leigh thought the marshals would be forced to investigate a possible ward-breaking monster— which would definitely have set off the Calamity ward— by giving the river a thorough search. The misdirection wasn’t the greatest, but it didn’t have to be. They just had to be busy looking for a monster for the next two days until our caravan left and Joan wouldn’t have to cover for us anymore.

"Great, I'll see you at the docks then. Good luck!" Leigh gave me a happy wave before disappearing back into the maze of streets. Briefly fighting down the urge to say something that would jynx me, I silently clambered up the side of the alley to the rooftops above.

Delmoth spread out in front of me from my new vantage point, the sprawling city sloped gently towards the wide river that bordered it to the north and east. Gas lights glowed on the streets in a soft blue that contrasted with the yellow light emanating from many homes, which in turn reflected off the bronze trim and pipes that criss-crossed the city. It was a beautiful kaleidoscope of color that I was almost reluctant to look away from, but I had an objective tonight.

Eyeing the gap between the roof I was perched on and the next, I coiled my leg-tentacles under me and sprung forward. Thing is, I’d never actually jumped in this body before, so not only did I shatter the roof tiles under me when I jumped, I drastically overshot the roof I was aiming for and plowed face-first into the brick chimney of the next building with a crash.

Ow.

After shaking off my newly-inflicted headache, I looked back at the roof I’d just damaged with a wince.

Uh… My bad.

It was still several blocks to go before I would be in the rough area Leigh told me to go and ‘be seen’, and I didn’t think leaving a trail of destroyed roofs would help our plan very much. Prodding at the roof tiles showed them to be some kind of thin slate or ceramic that snapped alarmingly easy under my fingers.

Frowning to myself, I considered alternate routes I could take for a minute before I had a thought that made me facepalm with exasperation.

Dude… you have magic. Maybe not the ‘top shelf’ stuff any more, but come on.

Falling back into my soulspace, I tried to repeat what happened when I’d unlocked my shield spell but this time focusing purely on flight. Dozens of hours spent practicing in the Deep Hollows, the insights I’d gained at the Sanctuary of the ancient Nomads, even my battle against the monster that the Achorai became, it all crystalized into a spark of light that sped gleefully around the interior of my soul. The spark briefly expanded, forming a little nova in the starfield of my soul space before condensing into a pair of crystal wings that hovered in place next to the glowing hexagon of my shield— surprising me with how easy it was for my past experiences to make the new spell. Activating it was another story, unfortunately.

I excitedly pushed my mana through the new spell, but compared to the easy brilliance of my shield, it barely even glowed from my efforts and I could tell it wasn’t close to fully powered. Pushing harder accomplished nothing but a familiar feeling of strain and discomfort, sending a line of burning needles through my nerves that had me clenching my fists in pain until it passed.

Ok, guess that one is a little beyond me for now, but does it help at all?

Leaving my soul space, I again channeled as much mana as I comfortably could into the spell. The difference was immediately obvious, even if it wasn’t quite what I’d hoped. I was now… floaty, for lack of a better word. Moving around the air felt almost like swimming, and I could push myself against it if I moved correctly. In a human body, this would have been practically useless except for something fun to do (seriously, the world-record swim speed for humanity is a mild jogging pace). As an [Outer Kindred]? Well, I wasn’t exactly a shark in the water, but suddenly I could move.

If I held still I started to sink back down to the roof, but as long as I kept the spell running I could quickly glide forwards in near-complete silence bar the quiet whispers of my canvas ‘disguise’. I might not be actually flying again yet, but I was now a super-creepy wraith monster, which was awesome.

Chuckling to myself, I pushed off the roof again— gently this time— and floated my way across the next gap. It was almost like diving as I found myself grabbing onto chimneys and pipes, the slightest pushes propelling me forward like a ghost. I won’t say how much effort it took to resist jump-scaring the few people I saw on the streets below, but I couldn’t help a few creepy cackles at the expense of some… questionable-looking people lurking below that sent them scurrying off in fear.

This is amazing. Why haven’t I done this before?

*crack*

A sharp sting radiated out from my shoulder and I dived below the roofline with a yelp, catching the barest glimpse of a silver figure perched a few blocks over before the building blocked my view. Clinging to a wall, I rubbed at the chitin where the stinging originated from, finding no damage but scraping off bits of hot metal.

Did… did I just get shot? Again??

An all-too-familiar red flare shot up into the night sky, the same kind that had announced the start of the hunt against me in the Hollows. Whistles started sounding out from the streets around me and shouts came from way too many people to be a coincidence.

Seems I was expected, somehow. Welp, good enough for me. Mission accomplished, time to boogie!

Abandoning any pretense at stealth, I shot through the twisting streets towards the river, keeping myself just below the roofline for cover from any more snipers. More whistles and shouts came from behind me, but other than quick flashes of black and gold I never saw my pursuers until I was well past them.

A distant, staccato popping sound echoed through the streets around me, and I glanced around warily as their volume steadily increased to muted, percussive *booms*.

Something’s coming…

As I passed through the next intersection, my only warning was a sudden, fiery roar as a dark shape literally rocketed through the air at my face. Unable to alter my momentum in mid-air, I frantically disabled my partial-flight spell and found myself falling just beneath the screaming projectile, dodging by what felt like centimeters. To my shock, the projectile slowed, and with a fresh series of fiery blasts it rotated towards me and hovered in mid-air.

It was a faceless suit of armor, jet black and shiny like polished glass. Silver runes were densely etched over every surface, forming patterns and circles that looked as much art as enchantment. Hoses connected the joints to a large tank on the back, and as I watched a series of emitter nozzles covering it sent out micro-blasts of fire that kept it in the air and— relatively— stable. I stared at it slack-jawed.

Ohmygod is that a magic, steampunk ironman suit!? That’s so freaking cool!

The figure raised an arm and sent a blast of fire that had me scrambling frantically for cover.

Ohmygod I’m fighting a magic, steampunk ironman suit. Much less cool.

*crack*

Ow! Damn it.

Another sniper in the marshals' silvery uniform was perched on a nearby rooftop, and the painful sting of a bullet hitting my chitin was a potent reminder that now was a really bad time to be nerding out over my opponent’s armor.

Ok, getting a little hot here. I really need to get to the river.

Pulling hard on my magic, I forced power into my flight spell until I felt like pin-and-needles were racing down my nerves and hurtled myself down the street. Despite pushing myself like this though, magic ironman was still faster. With a burst of fire they shot past me again and pivoted, landing with a sparking slide across the cobblestones and using their jets to kill momentum as they blocked my way forward. Staring silently at me, the armored figure slammed their fists together twice, each time firing up their rockets to emphasize the sound before crouching into a martial stance, daring me to come forward.

That is just… so cool.

Deciding in a split second to play-up the monster angle, I reared up on my tentacles until I was almost my full four meters off the ground, spreading my arms and side tentacles wide beneath my dirty canvas ‘disguise’, and I gave the figure a roar that rattled windows in the buildings around us. They didn’t flinch. Snarling, I coiled up for a moment and pounced at them with all my strength.

The figure stood silently as I came at them, waiting until the last possible second before firing their rockets and skating under my outstretched claws. Twisting so fast in mid-air that even my [Kindred] reflexes could barely keep up, they abruptly accelerated with a fresh burst of fire to deliver a jet-assisted haymaker right to the side of my head. The impact sent my body spinning, tumbling with my gathered momentum down the street until a steel lamp post helpfully appeared to bring me to a crashing stop.

Ugh… ok, the pounce was dumb. Man, that guy hits hard…

My head was ringing from the impact of that punch but I forced myself to get up and try untangling the canvas covering me, having to cut several chunks that were now hindering my movement. I was barely on my feet (tentacles?) before I had to dodge back from another rocket punch, and the sharp *crack* of gunfire announced the arrival of more marshals. The bullets were little more than bee stings at this point, but they were distracting, and my armored opponent capitalized on any distraction with hammer blows that sent me reeling.

Every swipe or stab I made back at them was dodged by perfectly timed bursts of rockets. The figure made dizzying turns and twists in mid-air, each movement turning a graceful avoidance into a punishing retaliatory strike. I found myself completely unable to keep up with their rapid movements, with every missed attack exposing me to more damage from the growing group of marshals around us, hounding me like a pack of wolves.

This was utterly unlike any fight I’d been in up to now. Before this, every fight came down to raw power— an animalistic slugfest where either my natural advantages and magic quickly overpowered my opponent, or I myself was overmatched and forced to run. The longest fights I’d simply transformed into a magical blender, slaughtering swarms of Bane by the thousands.

This? I wasn’t being simply overpowered here, this was raw skill. This was someone who’d spent years perfecting a combat style suited to them, and had an entire team built around maximizing their effectiveness. My moves were being read expertly, practically before I made them. It was a new experience, to be so badly matched against something that couldn’t just instantly overpower me. And it hurt, so I was getting desperate.

Grabbing a wooden cart off the street, I swung it at the figure with all my strength while whipping around my tentacles to keep them from dodging again. Crossing their arms in a guard stance, they planted their feet and spoke for the first time in a deep, mechanical voice.

“[Where armies broke, I stood.]”

The cart struck him and shattered like glass, not even making him flinch. I was left staring at two broken stumps of wood in my hands incredulously before he spoke again.

“[My hands held back the Tide.]”

A crushing weight spread across my body and pinned me in place, spreading out from a single dark gauntlet that had grabbed onto my wrist with irresistible strength.

“[At my wrath, the darkness trembled.]”

Pain.

I blacked out for a bit, and when I came to I was lying in the center of a glowing circle that had been hastily inscribed across the street where I’d landed after… that. A dozen marshals in their eerie silver masks surrounded me with weapons aimed in, while several figures in robes were stepping towards the circle with raised hands. The armored figure— which at this point I assumed was Lord Hakkon— stood nearby with his arms crossed, his faceless helm regarding me impassively.

Unbearable weight still pressed down on me despite no longer being in contact with him, and I could barely move at all. Most of my chest was discolored by a dark bruise, with cracks radiating outwards through my chitin that leaked black ichor.

Huh, black blood. That’s weird.

The incongruous thought burst through the pain of my injuries and my disorientation, making me chuckle despite myself. Nervous glances were exchanged between the robed people and the marshals, and even Hakkon cocked his head at me as my admittedly creepy laughter echoed in the street. The group continued to hesitate until Hakkon barked out at them.

“Tonight, please.”

Visibly gathering their courage, the robed people raised their hands and a thrum of mana sounded through the air. Then as a group, they started to speak.

“By Fate, we bind. By Name, we bind. By Pact, we bind. By Right, we bind. [SUBMIT].”

The pressure on me mounted with every word, until with the final command, spectral chains shot out from around the circle in a flash, over a dozen instantly spearing through me. I was immediately dragged into my soul space, where the chains were burrowing towards the crystal figure representing my deepest self. A spark of fear coursed through me, but it was crushed as fast as it had appeared when I felt the strength of [Cosmos] rise against the intrusion. With a thought, the starfield of my domain wrapped around the chains rushing towards me and bound them in place, the shackles of [Law] stronger than any conjured chain could be.

Reaching out, I grabbed one of them in a crystalline fist. It immediately began flooding me with demands, screaming at my soul with the command to [SUBMIT]. It was almost laughably easy to crush the chain between my fingers. Looking out at the rest of the frozen chains, my fists shook with anger, and [Cosmos] raged. The starlight leaking out of my soul turned into a harsh glare as the rest of the chains disintegrated violently, my Ideal refusing to allow their existence. But I wasn’t done.

Raw power flooded out of me, following the chains where they had reached into my soul space and back into the real world. My body was burning, tendrils of [Law] stretching outwards wildly, following the chains back to their origin. I could feel my body breaking down under the deluge of mana, far more than it was meant to hold, but now I was too pissed off to care.

“You… think you can chain me?” I hissed out.

“Heaven couldn’t make me bow. You think you’re enough?”

Magic was rising in the air, pouring out of my body in a seemingly endless torrent that left my nerves screaming in pain. Dimly, I could feel something changing in the air as a familiar series of sparks began to gather through the street. A growl built itself up from deep in my chest as people suddenly began running back from the circle with cries of alarm.

“I am [Cosmos]! My will is [Law]!”

Wind howled through the street as magic suddenly poured in from outside, pressure building in answer to mine until I released it with a final roar.

“[Law] does not bow.”

Lightning crashed through the air with a deafening blast and the circle binding me shattered apart. The marshals were sent flying, and sparks spat out from all over them as every enchantment they carried was instantly overloaded. Hakkon was the only one who hadn’t tried to get away from me at the end, trying to charge in and stop me even as the circle broke, but the surge had impacted him most of all by locking up his suit and sending him tumbling to the ground close to me.

I looked down at the faceless mask and wondered what he was thinking under it. Was he raging? Was he quiet? He seemed like the strong, silent type to me, only speaking at the end when he had to. He was one of the most dangerous opponents I’d ever fought, even if I was far from peak power.

I should kill him.

It made sense. He was smart, very skilled, and now even more motivated to hunt me after this. They’d obviously anticipated their earlier activities would shake something loose and laid a trap for me, which indicated a level of experience I just didn’t have. The practical thing to do right now would be to crush him in his suit like a tin can. I was exhausted, and the pain of my injuries was mounting steadily with every second I wasted here thinking about it, my nerves were practically on fire from mana overload, and I could feel things were very wrong inside me. Point is, I didn’t think I’d ever get another shot like this at the guy if he decided to turn this into some kind of vendetta.

On the other hand… I couldn’t help but sigh, because I’d made this choice before, and I knew who I was. I slithered up to the prone figure, locked into place on the ground in the middle of a flying punch. Rolling him over, I stared into the black mask protecting his face.

“I am not a monster, unless you make me one. Leave. Me. Alone.”

Then, maybe because I was kind of loopy from all the pain, I reached down and drew an oversized frowny-face on the mask with powder from the destroyed magic circle.

Ha. Gottem’.

With one last painful activation of my flight spell, I disappeared into the night, heading to the river.

So much for the plan...

An hour and a half later, light was starting to break the horizon as I crawled my way into the warehouse Leigh had described— to find him leaning back casually in a rickety chair.

“Finally! Thought I was gonna have to explain to Joan that you’d skipped town.” He looked me up and down, noting the vast array of injuries. “You look terrible.”

Don’t strangle him. Don’t strangle him…

“I have been shot, burned, punched into next week, captured, barely escaped, and half-drowned. If I look terrible, it’s because your plan was terrible, and I hate you.” I ground out, exhaustedly.

“Ah, so it worked then? Truly my genius is unfathomable.” He nodded sagely to himself and I again resisted the urge to throttle him.

“Sooo… What’s a Cosmos?”

Damn it.