It took about a minute for Vaozey and me to stuff as many bottles and jars as possible into a backpack that Vaozey found in the corner of the room. It wasn’t ideal, most of the jars were glass and thus prone to breaking, but the worst outcome of that would be depriving the enemy of additional tools so it was worth it regardless. I also took the five potential magic booster vials and pocketed them, but I wasn’t sure if they were exactly what I was thinking so I wasn’t about to use them in an uncontrolled environment. Before we left, Vaozey insisted on lighting the book of Rehv in Baotaov’s hideout on fire, which I agreed to after seeing that the whole text was in Holy Inscription and thus basically worthless to me.

“Where are we going?” Vaozey asked as we rushed down the street, trying to look inconspicuous while the backpack she was wearing clanked loudly from our pace.

“The entry gate was at the south,” I said. “That means the other one that eventually leads east is probably along the north wall. The way your people construct cities is quite predictable.”

“You say that, but this city has its slum in the south,” Vaozey muttered. It’s only about an hour to sunrise, I thought, there wasn’t any more repellent in the hideout, so we’ll have to make do with what we have on us.

“Wait, does that mean the north will be the richer area?” I asked. In most Uwrish cities, the eastern half was relatively poor for some reason, while the western half tended to be better funded and cleaned.

“Is that a problem?” Vaozey asked.

“No, it’s good, probably,” I replied. Considering that the guards warned us about the attack at the market, it’s probable that they either aren’t cooperating with Baotaov or at least have to maintain the outward appearance that they aren’t, I thought, If it’s the former, we’ll be safer in the north if only because he probably won’t risk attacking us there. If it’s the latter, so long as we stay on the main roads we’ll have some degree of cover.

“Probably?” Vaozey prompted. “What the seyt does probably mean?”

“If he’s sane, he won’t attack us in a crowd of civilians,” I replied. “Also, the gate area will probably have a large number of people, which will make spotting us more difficult.” Actually, no, there’s a problem, I thought. “Take your helmet off,” I ordered.

“Uh, alright,” Vaozey stumbled, removing her helmet and putting it under her arm.

“Can you put your shirt over your breastplate?” I asked.

“While we’re walking?” Vaozey asked back.

“We can stop for a minute, but can you do it?” I asked. “What I mean is, will it fit? It would be ideal if you could do the same for your other armor.”

“It’ll look stupid, but…” Vaozey said, considering it. “Oh, I see what you’re doing.”

“Good, let’s stop in the alley over there,” I said, pointing to a spot between two stores.

From up close, it was obvious that Vaozey was hiding something under her clothing. Uwrish armor was unisex, a concept that I hadn’t really noted a need for when dealing with warbreed but now understood quite well, but that fact meant that the appearance of her torso was completely at odds with her face and other proportions. Still, the purpose of the clothing change was to make sure that, from far away, Vaozey wouldn’t be immediately recognizable as herself. She also used her scarf that was normally on her neck to wrap her hair up, hiding its color.

As Vaozey had predicted, the more northward we went the better the city started to look, but it never quite reached the levels of wealth displayed in Kahavahrniydah or Owsahlk. Buildings started to have two floors though, some even having three, and in the latter quarter of the journey the roads were even paved with some kind of concrete. It’s strange, I thought, they have this technology, but they only use it for mortar most of the time. I wonder if it’s due to a materials shortage or something.

Just when the north gate entered our sight, and the street traffic grew thick enough that it could be called “dense”, I had a strange feeling in the back of my mind. Someone is watching me, I thought, recognizing it from the other times I had experienced it, and I tapped Vaozey’s shoulder to alert her.

“Where?” she asked.

“Don’t know yet, but somewhere,” I replied.

“Seyt,” she swore, glancing around at the alleys. “I don’t see anybody.”

“You didn’t see him last time either,” I replied, trying to check the rooftops without looking too obvious. He’s a sniper, I thought, dawn is not an optimal time for shooting, it’s possibly even worse than night since he doesn’t have any optics. He’d have to be to our east, but that would make him harder to spot against the sunrise. As I scanned the buildings to my right, I saw the shutter on one of the windows of a building about fifty meters in front of me move from a loosely-closed position to a fully-closed one, and the hair on the back of my neck rose.

“What?” Vaozey hissed, reacting to some subconscious cue I must have given out.

“He’s probably right there,” I said, trying to gesture with my eyes to the window while also moving diagonally left to get some foot traffic to obstruct our forms.

“How do you know?” Vaozey asked.

“I’ve been shot at enough times to know,” I replied. “Just keep to the left side of the road.”

“Shouldn’t we take an alley?” Vaozey asked.

“Too obvious,” I replied. “If he’s even half as good as the Kahvahrniydah assassin he’ll be on us in ten seconds once we’re out of sight. We’re lucky he hasn’t started shooting already.” And that he’s stupid enough to give himself away due to anxiety, I thought.

“So we’re just going to walk past him?” Vaozey asked, trying to hide the anxiety in her voice.

“If he hasn’t shot yet, it’s likely because he isn’t accurate enough to do so without potentially harming civilians,” I explained. “This is the rich part of town, most of these people are Rehvites, he can’t just start killing them like he could in the slums.”

“You’re putting a lot of faith in-” Vaozey started, then a crack rang out from ahead of us and her sentence was cut off. I heard something whiz by my ear, and over a century of battle instinct kicked in, making me crouch to the ground so quickly that I was already on all fours before I knew what was going on. Vaozey was on the ground a second later, coughing up blood and groaning as she tried to steady herself. “Seyt,” she swore, “what was that?”

“I don’t…”I started to say, but then I saw blood on her front and a new hole in the backpack. My mind drew a line of where she had been struck, and it only missed her heart and spine by a centimeter. “Sonic boom,” I said. The rest of the people around us looked confused, as though they didn’t understand what was happening, and started to form a rough circle around Vaozey. None of them were running yet though, so for the moment the assassin couldn’t attack us.

“Speak seytoydh Uwri-ugh,” Vaozey coughed. “Gods, that went right through my armor like it wasn’t even there. Seytoydh magic ngiyvdoym.”

“You’re lucky headshots are harder to hit than center mass,” I said. “Don’t stand up yet, he knows he didn’t kill you with that and is waiting for a follow-up. The instant you poke your head out to look around, you’ll lose it.” Finally, a woman approached us and bent over to look at Vaozey.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “What happened?” If she stays there, I can use her as cover, I thought.

“Don’t move,” I ordered, standing back up but staying hunched over. The woman was surprised and did exactly the opposite of my request, standing up and taking a step back, but it didn’t really matter. Using her head as visual cover, I peeked at the window where the shot had come from for an instant, then ducked back down. Open, but nobody visible inside, I thought, he could just be in the back though, in the shade. How do I draw out-

“Give me your helmet,” I said to Vaozey, holding out my hand.

“Okay,” Vaozey replied, reaching into the backpack and retrieving it. Using my hand, I began slowly raising the helmet up until I knew it was visible from the window, keeping it facing away so that it wasn’t immediately obvious that it wasn’t on a head. As predicted, a snap rang out, and the helmet jumped off my hand, clattering to the ground two meters away with a hole in it. The second snap alarmed the crowd more than the first, and nervous muttering turned into a rumble as people started to panic.

Should I just slip away? I considered briefly. Though it was true that Vaozey was pinned down, there was no reason to believe that I would be similarly targeted if I were to run. Logically, it was the best choice to make, but every instinct in my body told me not to do so. As I was trying to decide if my human subconscious knew something that I didn’t, a small ball of metal clanked to the ground nearby, with a sparking fuse sticking out of one end. It took me a short but perceptible amount of time to realize what I was looking at, and yet another instant for my brain to figure out how to avoid dying.

“On your belly!” I yelled to Vaozey as I dove at the grenade, then grabbed and threw it as far away from us as possible, using a bit of magic partway through the motion for extra distance. It didn’t land on the ground before it exploded, instead detonating about ten meters away in midair. Finally, the crowd broke into screams, and everyone began sprinting around in different directions.

“I thought you seytoydh said-” Vaozey yelled.

“Just run!” I snapped. “That way!” I gestured to an alley to the west, and we both began shoving people out of the way to get into it. What I wouldn’t give up to have a battle rifle right now, I seethed as we finally put a brick wall between us and the shooting position of the sniper. Throwing knives were a poor substitute for proper ranged weapons, but I began charging one up in my left hand anyway.

“What the seyt do we do?” Vaozey asked, breathing hard. “I think there’s still some metal in my chest.”

“The gate will be locked down now,” I replied. “We don’t have time to make a rope, we probably can’t fight our way out, so we need to find a hiding spot and wait a few hours, at least.”

“What, and hope he doesn’t find us?” Vaozey snapped.

“I can’t think of any better ideas,” I replied, and just as I finished my sentence there was another snap. I felt something tear off my cheek and part of my jawbone, nearly sprawling me out on the ground and splattering Vaozey with my blood. Though I was dazed from the impact, I had enough sense to look in the direction it came from and see the masked figure on a roof, the sun rising behind him. My left hand snapped out, throwing the knife, and surprisingly I scored a hit with it, striking the figure in the shoulder and knocking him down.

“Did you get him?” Vaozey asked, wiping her face.

“Dohn know, kee’ running,” I mumbled, my jaw still healing back into place as I grabbed Vaozey and directed her deeper into the small network of alleys. My heads-up display was showing about twenty percent of my magic reserves as having been used once my jaw was properly set and movable again, which was less than I expected after using so much magic during the interrogations. Behind one of the shops ahead of us there was an open door to a cellar, so we ducked inside and crouched behind one of the shelves of herbal extracts inside, putting out the lone illuminating lantern.

“How long do we wait here?” Vaozey asked.

“At least until the screaming stops,” I replied, rubbing my new scar. The noise of the people in the streets panicking was loud enough that we could still hear it faintly. “Do you know why he would have used an explosive on Rehvite civilians like that?”

“Why did you assume he wouldn’t?” Vaozey asked.

“They’re on the same side,” I replied. “It doesn’t make sense for him to-”

“Hey!” a voice yelled from outside the cellar. “I saw you two slip in there! Come out! You’re under arrest!” Oh for fuck’s sake, I sighed. Neither Vaozey nor I moved at all, nor did we respond. “Last warning!” the voice yelled.

“We’re just scared, someone was trying to kill people near the gate!” Vaozey called back, deliberately heightening her voice. “Please, we’re not up to anything!” That was a good idea, actually, I thought.

“You and the man have to come out,” the guard said, his tone instantly softening. “You won’t be charged, but we’ll have to arrest you and bring you to a guard post. You’ll be safer there, please.”

“I don’t think-” Vaozey began, but again, supersonic cracks rang out, followed by the sounds of slumping bodies.

“Fuck,” I muttered. “He’s probably going to throw a grenade in here, we can’t run out just yet. Get as far from the door as you can and get on your stomach.” As Vaozey followed my instructions, I used the wooden shelves nearest to the entrance to create an obstruction, then I joined her. Hopefully, he just tries to toss it in from whatever roof he’s on, I thought.

“Why are we on the ground?” Vaozey asked quietly. Better question, why hasn’t he attacked yet? I wondered.

“Lowers your cross-section relative to the sphere of shrapnel from the explosive,” I replied. “Makes it less likely that you die or take incapacitating damage.”

“How do you even know that?” Vaozey asked, but I didn’t reply, instead gesturing for her to be quiet. What is going on out there? I thought, growing nervous. The guards had gone silent so they were probably dead, but there was no reason for Baotaov to kill them if he didn’t realize that we were in the cellar. “Do you smell that?” Vaozey asked, and I felt a creeping dread grow in my belly. Lighting up a small orb, I saw that the air was getting smoky.

“Don’t breathe,” I ordered.

“I don’t think I can follow that,” Vaozey replied. As I looked towards the door and the low light coming in, I noticed that my eyes were starting to vibrate. Damn it all, I raged, getting to my feet, There had better be some left over. “What are you doing?”

“He’s trying to knock us out by burning blue leaf and forcing the smoke in here,” I said. “Don’t breathe, draw your weapon, we’re going to have to fight.” My lungs burned as I pulled aside the shelves to see an entire bottle of blue leaf poison slowly burning just outside the door. I wanted to try to grab it and put it out, but its obvious position was probably intended as bait, with Baotaov waiting nearby to shoot anyone stupid enough to fall for it. Instead, I used my last throwing knife to knock the bottle over, spilling the valuable powder inside but also snuffing out the smoldering embers.

“I wasn’t sure, you know,” came a voice from outside. It was higher-pitched than I expected, but clearly male. “I knew a target was coming to this town, but I thought it was the madwoman, not you, jhaoyeyl. I thought you were just some doymztoyl, but then I saw how you reacted to the bomb, and I felt your corruption of Rehv’s binding in your knife.” I looked back into the cellar to see Vaozey with her mace in hand, waiting for my order to emerge. I shook my head, gesturing for her to stay back, then took a breath. If Yaavtey could resist this poison with magic, so can I, I thought, trying to heal through its effects before it could incapacitate me.

“You killed at least a few of your people,” I called out. “If I just wait in here, the guards will eventually find you. Even if they don’t capture you, I’ll be able to escape.” By concentrating my healing magic on my lungs, I could seemingly burn through the effects of the drug before they started to affect my mind, but my heads-up display told me I was losing about one percent of my total energy every thirty seconds. “Use your healing magic on your lungs,” I quietly advised Vaozey, who was starting to teeter on her feet.

“Like the finger trick?” she asked, blinking.

“Basically,” I replied. “Might work on your head as well.”

“It’s interesting that you think my killing of followers of Rehv would be a problem,” Baotaov called out. “After all, death means nothing, does it not? Even you know this, I’m sure. My master told me all about you.” Master? I wondered for a moment, before remembering the Kahvahrniydah assassin. “So, let’s wait and see, you can stay in there, and I can stay up here,” he finished, his tone indicating that he intended nothing of the sort. A moment later, a grenade bounced down from nearby and exploded, blowing out my eardrum and peppering my back with shrapnel as I turned away just in time. Right after the explosion, a short figure in an owl mask landed in the doorway, then dashed at me with a knife.

Though I was still not very experienced with a sword, knife combat was essentially my specialty when it came to engaging in melee, so even though Baotaov’s knife was obviously poisoned it wasn’t overly concerning. His stance was wide open, and his movements couldn’t have been more obvious. Muscle memory kicked in and I grabbed his extended arm, gripping the wrist with my left and shoulder with my right, then used my larger size and mass to swing him around a hundred and eighty degrees, slamming him into the wall of the cellar and stunning him briefly. I felt electrical magic trying to creep up my forearms, but my own insulation kept it at bay, and I crushed his wrist to make him drop the knife while winding up a counter-shock of my own.

Vaozey was also charging over with her mace above her head, but Baotaov regained his senses before she could reach us. A sucking sound came from his mask and he raised his left hand, then three loud cracks rang out and Vaozey slumped to the floor. As the hand moved towards my abdomen, I was forced to give up my grip in order to avoid two more shots, but it gave me a chance to draw my sword. That bracelet thing, I thought as I glanced at Baotaov’s wrist gear, It’s a holder for steel balls. Vaozey groaned, apparently still alive, but couldn’t manage to get to her feet.

While I was trying to find a good opening, Baotaov struck first, opting to use his fists rather than any weapon. Kicking off the wall behind him, he shot at me with incredible speed, then grabbed the ceiling using magic at the last moment to turn his forward momentum into a kick for my chin. I was expecting an upward strike due to his head movements, however, and managed to dodge out of the way in time, counterstriking with my sword to try to cut his spine. Again there was a sucking noise, and force magic stopped my blade short. As I tried to pull it out of the telekinetic grip, I heard a chuckle from Baotaov and then felt something very strange.

Anchoring himself to my sword instead of any of the walls, Baotaov flipped down to the ground, pulling my weapon down with him, then rolled his whole body and managed to produce such an extreme force that, had I not let go of my sword, I likely would have been thrown across the room. As soon as my weapon was away from me, Baotaov tried to sweep my feet, but I jumped over the attack and struck back, hitting him with light magic directly in the eyes.

“How many times do you think that’s going to work?” he taunted, apparently unaffected as he flipped back to his feet and began attacking. In the cramped cellar with a ceiling so low that I could barely stand up straight, his smaller size was clearly an advantage, and as I blocked and dodged the rapid-fire barrage of blows I noticed the same sucking noise coming from his mask again. Finally, I noticed an opening, and I struck back, throwing him into the ceiling with an uppercut to his sternum.

Instead of bouncing off of the ceiling, Baotaov stuck there, then somehow managed to spin himself in place to build momentum and lash out with his foot, kicking me in an unexpected blow that I was forced to block. My right forearm shattered to pieces, the kick ripping straight through my attempts to stop it with force magic, and knocked me off balance as a result. Baotaov wasn’t stupid enough to think that a single attack would stop me, however, and shot off the ceiling, tackling me against one of the fallen shelves behind me.

“I’m not supposed to kill you yet,” he said, “so take a little nap for now.” With his hand on my chest, Baotaov started to try to shock me, and I began using magic to resist him. Though my resistance magic managed to stop the shocks from totally incapacitating me, I found that I couldn’t move at all, and my heads-up display showed my magic rapidly dropping, though I didn’t need it to know I couldn’t keep my current output up for long. Baotaov’s mask sucked again, and his power increased, threatening to overwhelm me, then it abruptly stopped.

“Wermowshahv,” Vaozey growled from behind him, blood running down her chin. Baotaov went still for a moment, his whole body shaking with effort, then went limp atop me, his poisoned knife sticking out of his back right in exactly the right spot to pierce his heart. Vaozey met my eyes, grinned, then threw up a combination of blood and bile and dropped to one knee as I reached down and fried Baotaov’s brain, then walked across the room to get my sword. Just twenty percent left, I thought as I checked my magic levels, Again, better than I expected.

After retrieving my weapon, I went outside to see if any of the blue leaf survived, but it appeared that the grenade explosion had blown the jar and its contents all over the alley. If I had several hours of time and an appropriate workspace I probably could have salvaged some of the extract, but I had neither, so it was gone. Enraged at the loss, I went back inside to see Vaozey trying to remove Baotaov’s mask.

“It’s like the seytoydh thing is glued to his face,” she growled.

“Did you check him over for weapons?” I asked, igniting a light orb so we could see better.

“Yeah,” Vaozey replied, tossing a grenade in my direction. I nearly flinched out of the way before realizing that it wasn’t lit and catching it. “Aside from that and some steel balls, there isn’t much. Seyt.” There was a sound of tearing and Baotaov’s mask finally came off in Vaozey’s hands, dripping blood onto the ground. The inside of the mask almost looked like it was made of an opaque resin, and most interestingly it appeared that the source of the blood that was dripping from it was a mouthpiece.

“Give me that,” I said, and Vaozey handed me the mask. Underneath the superficial decorations that were intended to make it look like an owl’s face, the mask was remarkably similar to the one that the Kahvahrniydah assassin had worn, down to the strange air filter-like containers along the side. Not air filters, I thought, as I traced the path of the tubes to the mouthpiece, Those are some kind of containers for blood. It’s designed so the wearer can consume magic boosters mid-combat without having to pause and reach for a vial.

“Gods and spirits,” Vaozey muttered, drawing my attention back to her. She was looking at Baotaov’s face, one hand over her mouth and eyebrows furrowed. In the purple light of my magic, I glanced at Baotaov’s features, seeing a stereotypical Luwahriy face with only one thing about it to set it apart from anyone else I would see on the street.

“He looks quite young,” I thought aloud.

“He’s a seytoydh kid,” Vaozey corrected. “Looks twelve at most.” I walked over to the corpse and, despite the fact that it appeared dead, cut its head off with my sword. Ever since the yihzhae in Owsahlk had survived extreme brain damage, I was a bit paranoid about depending solely on brain cooking to kill powerful opponents.

“Okay, let’s go,” I said. “We’ll find a new spot and wait a couple of hours, then we’re out of here.”

“Yeah,” Vaozey grunted, still staring at Baotaov’s decapitated head.

“Before the guards show up,” I prompted, and she finally managed to look away, following me out of the cellar and into the morning air.