Read Black Warrior Page 16


  Chapter 16 – Deep Focus

  Bianca took the municipal gate to Irontree after the long walk down from the high city. She still warranted a priority pass, but she didn't use it this time. She waited in line with everyone else. She stood out. But, then, she always had. The known world was mostly defined by those that Romitu had once conquered. And there was an enclave of almost every one of those races somewhere in the city. Even the few they had not conquered still had those who chose to live in this, the largest of the world's cities. But other than her mother, there was no one else of her coloration here at all.

  Some was the idle curiosity of bored people in line. Others wondered if she represented a new people that they might trade with, since the bulk of people using the gates were merchants. But any guard who saw her knew her for who she was. Most nodded respectfully. Very few of the military had any qualms about her being the one that stepped into harm's way when it came time to fight the gods.

  Eventually someone noticed the familiarly they showed with her. Eventually someone asked. Eventually a guard explained. And then the buzz went up and down the line. Attitudes changed. Some shared the guard's admiration. But there were also glares from others who fingered the impotent holy symbols of now dead gods. The space around her grew.

  She almost gave up, and moved to the priority line. But then a young man approached. He had been standing with his mother. The two looked like well-to-do merchants by their clothes and bearing. They had no cargo chits with them, and were probably travelling to establish or seal some deal. Although little was made in Irontree, it was the first to trade with the Underground and still boasted quite a mixed trading hub.

  As the man approached she raised her eyes and glared at him. She was good at it, and seldom did anyone bother her after a warning like that. He did stop, but he didn't back down. The look in his eyes was not defiant, confrontational or even curious. It was expectant. He met her gaze and looked deep into her eyes. Then he gave a small nod, and smiled. “It is you”, he said quietly. “The look in your eyes is the same. I owe you my life. If I can ever be of service to you, let me know.” He then gave a tentative salute, and she remembered.

  In her assault against Sky Father and Waterbearer, some fool of a boy in the rich section of town had decided to watch the adventure from his balcony. By the time the folly of his decision was clear he was too petrified to do anything. A blast of frozen water nearly killed him, but she had instinctively shielded him with the Ævatar. That shook him awake and he fled back inside, but not before giving the same hesitant salute.

  “I will remember”, said Bianca, just as quietly. He rejoined his mother, whose neutral expression was betrayed by how tight she clenched his arm when he returned. But then the ready signal was given and the batch Bianca was with was hustled into position. They moved from painted square to painted square, and then through the gate itself in precisely kept time.

  Once on the other side, everyone quickly dispersed. Her novelty was lost in the immediacy of reasons that people had chosen to come to Irontree for. Bianca quickly found herself alone walking through the streets she knew very well.

  As she walked she wondered about the young man. Clearly he was an idiot for being outside in a magical war zone. But a perceptive idiot if he could remember her by stance and posture alone. The Ævatar didn't have much facial expression. But she'd seen him twice now, and would not forget him. She would probably never need his favor, but if she did, she'd find out who he was.

  Her mother didn't maintain apartments in the Academy. She preferred a large building of her own. It was originally designated as housing for the native Troglodytes, but they preferred living in their densely packed apartments and the place had never been finished. It gave Goatha plenty of room for both small and large scale projects.

  Bianca worked the complex lock which was part combination and part keyed. The magical elements had been removed when she lost her soul and could no longer cast spells. The doors closed silently behind her and she stood in the large, dimly lit space. Tables and apparatus lay about the volume. Some were large constructs in various states of construction. Most were attempts at finding ways to harvest the wild vortex energy of the outer waste. Most of the smaller tables were shrouded like a morgue of past projects that were no longer relevant or a priority. There was no sign of Goatha.

  Bianca slowly sank into a crouch. She slipped the catch on her cloak and let it slip to the floor as she drew her knife. Her senses started to come to peak acuteness as her pulse quickened and her mind focused on the now. She took a few steps to one side and listened to what sound her street damp shoes were making, as she slid under a smaller table. She paused there less than a minute, before moving again. There was no target yet, but she didn't want to become one. And the movement familiarized her with at least one part of the internal geography while she waited for her eyes to adjust and boots to dry.

  When she felt she was ready, she sprinted across an open space hoping to draw something out. She was rewarded with the sound of something moving, proving there was more than just her paranoia in here. She dodged, dove, and tumbled into the lee of a large contraption. Freezing, she listened intently, trying to identify a direction for her pursuer. But she felt, rather than heard, the vibration of something landing on the mechanism she had come up against. Bianca mentally judged the height, waited just long enough for whoever was up there to decide they were unobserved and commit to a move. Then she leapt aside, spun, and struck where someone would be if they had been pouncing on her.

  She was rewarded with a flurry of motion. Something, indeed, had taken her bait, and leapt for her. But it quickly worked out the ruse, and pivoted away before Bianca's counterstrike could land.

  Bianca was hard after it. The dim light showed little, but she sprinted at the vague shape she could see, and the two had a tight little dogfight of a chase as each tried to roll past, around, or under the other through the bars of the machine. Bianca had a sense of the immediate layout and altered her pursuit in an elaborate feint. Her pursuer took the bait and after a sudden reverse and backflip Bianca had steered them into a blind corner and she swung in for the kill.

  However, as her blade struck true, her adversary dissolved and evaporated around her plunging blade. Bianca fought her surprise and instantly dropped her committed move. She had no idea what had just happened, but the first reaction was to assume the worst. She spun in place and leapt up, backwards, into the tight wedge she had just been driving her foe a moment before. Her tactic proved true as she saw her enemy reconstitute itself for what would have been a fatal strike into her back had she not evaded it. Its blade rang out against hers. It was the first time their weapons had touched. Bianca deflected it and leaped from her height to turn it into a counterstrike. But her foe, surprise lost, had withdrawn around the edge to regroup.

  But Bianca knew now who she faced. Her own weapon was as familiar to her as one of her own limbs. And the sound it had made when blocking then was the sound of another that she had crossed blades with many times. The one who taught her most of what she knew about fighting. Her most skilled mentor. Her mother.

  The fight lasted the better part of an hour. Bianca had naught but her blade while Goatha used her blade, her magic, and her knowledge of the layout of the area. She would ghost in, sometimes magically, other times just out of hiding, press Bianca closely, but as soon it was clear that she wasn't going to overwhelm her entirely she would fade into the gloom again.

  Bianca knew that by any sensible judgement she was completely outclassed and did haven't a chance. But that sort of thinking could only get you killed so she did not embrace it. Instead, she tried her damndest to anticipate any possible move and to eel out of each ambush as it happened.

  And she was having fun.

  When there's a knife at your throat you become very focused on the sharpness of the blade. It doesn't matter what happened yesterday, missed opportunities, or poor life choices. Bianca was in a state of deep focus
. She was hyper attuned to the present, and thus, had no time horizon beyond the now. It put all her problems and concerns at a distance. In a way, it was relaxing.

  Twice more, in the fight, their blades clashed. Everything else was feint and maneuver. Each knew when they had been out maneuvered, and would withdraw from anything less than an idea position.

  But, eventually, the lights came up. Bianca blinked in the brightness, pivoting for cover in case this was just the prelude to a changed circumstance. But as her eyes adjusted, and she skulked from shadow to shadow, she saw Goatha. She was sitting cross legged, on top of a shrouded table, knife sheathed, watching Bianca.

  After a few more minutes, Bianca sheathed her own knife, and cautiously approached.

  Goatha nodded. Bianca returned the nod. “I had my reservations”, said Goatha, “but you have improved.”

  “Thank you mother”, said Bianca. “I've had little to distract me from training.”

  “You have had much to distract you from training”, said Goatha. “You have had a lot on your mind. But I saw that fall away when you fought.”

  “This is why I seek this path”, said Bianca.

  “It is not a path that leads to an answer”, said Goatha. “It will relieve you, but for only so long as you walk it.”

  “Nothing can change, until the world changes”, said Bianca. “And, if nothing else, this will buy time to change the world.”

  Goatha nodded. “Then I understand your approach and motive. I withdraw my objections.” She hopped lithely down from the table and pulled the sheet off in one smooth gesture.

  The table was as wide as it was broad, and made of one piece of stone. The top of it was covered in a heaped mass of translucent blue crystals. Beneath them could be seen the outline of a man. It was Moss, Goatha's husband. He had been touched by the mind of an ancient being. Like ripples in a pond, that touch echoed across his mind and drove him stark raving mad. But when the ripples were countered, and the echoing actions of that ancient evil stilled, he was himself again.

  Ever since it happened, Goatha had spent much of her time taking up station inside of his consciousness. She fought, metaphysically, the corruption and allowed her husband to conduct the research she felt strongly was needed to progress Romitu's plans. When the need was greater for her specialties, she withdrew, and he was frozen in suspended animation under the blue ice.

  “I am ready”, said Bianca. There wasn't much else to do. She had said her goodbyes. She had readied herself mentally as best she could. Once before she had entered his mind when her Mother didn't answer a summons to return. It hadn't gone so well. But she was determined this time it would go better. She really didn't have any alternatives.

  Goatha nodded. She made a gesture over the table and the blue crystals started to sublimate. Within them Moss started to writhe, and once his mouth was free, to scream.

  Bianca closed her eyes and drew a deep breath.