Invisible Knife

I woke feeling uneasy about pretty much everything. There was a maybe-prophecy that was maybe about me and was maybe important to the survival of the whole human race. There was also a mandate from Father Ori to stay behind here at the monastery. And on top of it all, the knife was still in my boot, and I needed to find a way to get rid of it once and for all, lest my fellow pilgrims become a little too eager to leave me behind.

The next day, when the pilgrims were beginning to pack up their things for the next stage of the journey, I asked Asuana if I could go to the outhouse. She told Du Vreil to follow me and to stab me if I tried anything suspicious. Standard procedure. Upon reaching the outhouse, Du Vreil insisted on coming inside (also standard). So I squatted, pants down, pretending to poop, while the reanimated corpse stood in the doorway watching me from beneath her veil. It wasn’t the first time that I’d considered ditching the knife in the hole, but I was fairly certain that Du Vreil might rat me out. She was a bit vacant at times, but she wasn’t a complete zombie either. Not that I had any basis for comparison, but she seemed quite the impressive necromantic accomplishment. Could a reanimated corpse see an invisible knife? I couldn’t exactly ask the Wizard what the rules of magic would say about that. He probably wouldn’t know either, I thought as I pulled up my pants.

“You didn’t go,” she said, calmly.

“Oh, yeah. I thought I needed to,” I said. “Sorry to, uh, bother you.”

“Asuana told me to report back if you did anything out of the ordinary,” said Du Vriel.

“I wouldn’t really call it out of the ordinary,” I said, trying not to panic, as we left the outhouse. “I mean, you’ve probably forgotten what pooping is like, but you know, sometimes, depending on what you ate…” I trailed off, but she just watched me passively from beneath her veil.

“I will report back,” said Du Vreil.

“Fine,” I said. “Hey, look, before we go, maybe I could do it better if you weren’t, um, staring right at me…”

Du Vreil just looked at me, veil flapping in the wind.

“Could we try again?” I asked. “And maybe you just face the other direction? Just for a moment?”

“Asuana told me to report back if you took an abnormal amount of time,” she said.

“Well, report back, then!” I said. “But I…” I feigned a gasp and clutched my stomach. “I… look, I really have to go…” Pretending to be in pain was surprisingly easy; I’m pretty sure my internal organs were bruised from Benji’s “gentle introduction” earlier. “Please…” I groaned. “It’s all the rice. I’ve eaten so much…” I pretended to stagger back into the outhouse and shut the door just before Du Vreil could follow me inside. “Just give me one minute!” I shouted.

“I will be reporting back,” said Du Vreil’s calm voice from outside.

“Okay!” I called as I drew the knife out of my boot. The hole in the ground was deep and dark, and I doubted Asuana would climb down there to investigate based on Du Vreil’s report. I couldn’t really imagine a centuries-old morl doing it either. So I held the invisible knife over the hole and made a groaning sound to help cover up the inevitable plop. Just as I was about to drop it though, I heard the Wizard’s voice.

“Nial, Nial, Nial,” he said. “It looks as if we’ve caught you with your pants down, so to speak.”

Panicking, I looked around. There was no one in the tiny room. Was he down in the hole? It disturbed me that I couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from. It felt like it was from a point just above my head.

“It’s called scrying,” said the Wizard’s voice. “The nice thing about scrying is that it often reveals other enchantments. Like the one in your hand.”

Then came Asuana’s voice. “If you drop my knife in that toilet, I swear I will make you climb down and get it, then I’ll gut you with it myself.”

Deflated, I put the knife back in my boot. The only positive here was that my pants hadn’t actually been down. Or had they been watching the whole time? I wondered, as I exited the outhouse. Du Vreil calmly followed me as we walked back to the guest room where the rest of the pilgrims were sitting around the table. In the middle was a bowl of water, over which the Wizard was waving his hands. Then he made a show of dusting them off and said, “And that is how we use magic to catch a murderer.”

Looking back and forth between Lilly and Asuana, I said, “I’m not a murderer. Jonny stole your knife and gave it to me. He has the other one.”

“Put the knife on the table, Nial,” said Asuana, getting to her feet.

I complied.

“This… this is definitely my knife,” she said, appearing to pick up nothing. Amazed, she examined the air in her hands. “I’d know its feel anywhere. Professor, would I be wrong in saying that this is an impressive spell?”

“More impressive than what I would have expected from someone like Nial,” said the Wizard.

“The Fool has the other one,” I said, again. The Fool just grinned at me, and my heart sank. There was no way I could be that lucky. He’d probably gotten rid of his with magic.

“The Fool?” she said. For a long moment, she just looked at me. “I don’t know what’s sadder, that you lied to my face when I asked you about the knife, or that you still think of us all in terms of your stupid categories. Yeah, that’s right, I skimmed your notes the last time you went to the outhouse. I’m not even a hunter by the way.”

My face flushed red.

“You lied to me,” she said, amazed. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it. The one person I…. But of course. The killer is always the last person you suspect. I really thought it was Father Ori.”

My muscles pumped with adrenaline. “The killer? No, you don’t understand.” I tried to move and found the point of the invisible blade at my throat. I managed to choke out: “Jonny thought we might need the knife if he attacked—”

“Lies!” she said. Her eyes bored into my head, as if they could drill to the core of my soul.

“I swear,” I said, “I’m not a killer.”

“Neither am I,” she said, pressing harder. The knifepoint drew a trickle of blood that flowed down my neck.

“Please,” I said. “I had no reason to kill Sir Mau. Father Ori did!” The pressure at my Adam’s apple lessened. “I spoke to him in the desert. Please, at least give me a chance to tell my side of the story.”

Thankfully, Lilly spoke up, “He does deserve a trial, doesn’t he?”

“No,” muttered the Wizard.

“Why not?” said Lilly. “What’s your problem with him anyway? I mean, yes, he’s annoying at times. But that doesn’t mean he’s a murderer.”

I added, “Please, just ask yourself, how certain are you? Your knife was in my boot—yes. I was trying to get rid of it—yes. But that doesn’t make me a killer. And it shouldn’t make you one either.” The invisible knifepoint wavered. I could actually feel Asuana thinking—feel the argument going on inside her head. Kill him? The knife pressed harder, puncturing deeper, shaking with tension. Let him live? The knife retracted a hair’s length. One moment, I was certain that I was about to die, right there in front of Lilly; and all I could think about was how I would have failed to keep my vow. The next moment, I thought I might survive; and all I could think about was how I had lost Asuana’s trust, and been totally played by Father Ori. The knife dropped away.

I sagged against the wall, hand at my throat. “Thank you.”

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t even speak. You’ll get your chance to talk when we put you on trial.”