474 lines
19 KiB
TeX
474 lines
19 KiB
TeX
\hypertarget{chapter-42-the-skeins-plan}{%
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\section{Chapter 42: The Skein's
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Plan}\label{chapter-42-the-skeins-plan}}
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\begin{quote}
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\emph{``Chaos is a ladder, Chancellor. It never goes quite where you
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need it to, and the rise is always more graceful than the descent.''}
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-- Dread Emperor Perfidious
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\end{quote}
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Like proper villains, we put a magic gate between ourselves and the
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consequences of our actions before silently agreeing to pretend none of
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it had taken place. The Woe had taken to that part of villainy better
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than any other, truth be told. Probably didn't help that I was the
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closest thing Archer had to an authority figure in her life that wasn't
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\emph{Ranger}, or that Hierophant had been raised to believe that
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repercussions were a thing that happened to people who didn't have
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family dinners involving the full roster of the Calamities. Seriously. I
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would be dishonest not to acknowledge that having Black cleaning up
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behind me for year hadn't, uh, encouraged me to display a perhaps
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disproportional amount of recklessness in my actions. But even at my
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worst there'd been an amount of calculation involved in those risks. In
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contrast, Thief had at some point robbed a Legion pay convoy and somehow
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expected to get away with it, while Diabolist had gone out of her way to
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personally piss off every single living villain with a higher body count
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than her. Well, before Liesse anyway. She'd murdered her way to the top
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of that list quick enough. It was telling that the closest thing we had
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to a steady hand around was Adjutant, and he'd rather famously gotten
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into a slugging match with a demon.
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Gods, was Juniper the voice of sanity? She ate people, for fuck's sake.
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Well, corpses anyway, and she hadn't done it in a while that I knew of,
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but \emph{still}.
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``I have so many questions,'' I told Akua the moment the gate closed.
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``Flammable and inflammable mean the same thing,'' she replied without
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missing a beat.
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I paused.
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``What?'' I managed.
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``I noticed you've been misusing the latter,'' Diabolist said with a
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beaming smile. ``The word is actually derived from the Old Miezan verb
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\emph{inflammare}, which means `to set on fire'.''
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Masego let out a noise of approval, the filthy traitor. Of course of all
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the Woe's habits the one Akua had to pick up was giving me lip in the
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middle of delicate life-and-death situations. `Closing ranks in front of
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outsiders' had been too much to hope for, I supposed, but Merciless Gods
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I would have settled for `prone to collateral damage we can't afford to
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pay for'. It wasn't like she didn't have a history. I made the decision
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that choking my only current source of insight on what was happening was
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unwise, which I thought was very queenly of me.
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``Where are we?'' I patiently asked.
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``Before the gate to the central chamber,'' Akua said, inviting me to
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look behind her with an elegant gesture.
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If you'd one sinister rune-engraved stone gate, you'd seen them all.
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This one was ridiculously large, but given the alleged size of the Skein
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that wasn't a surprise. Besides, this one didn't even have a terrifying
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face-shaped demon bound inside. Strictly small time compared to the
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Tower, that somehow-standing pile of horrors. I considered my next
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question carefully.
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``How?'' I finally said. ``Just\ldots{}''
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I gestured to encompass Creation.
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``\emph{How}?''
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``As a part of your mantle, she can draw on Winter to an extent if so
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allowed,'' Masego said.
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``Yes, yes, we all knew that,'' I lied. ``Not need to state the obvious,
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Masego. But here precisely?''
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``The chain,'' Akua simply said.
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Which bound her to me, or more accurately the Mantle of Woe, and to an
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extent Winter itself. That explained how she'd been able to open a gate
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towards my location, anyway. How had she even gotten here in the first
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place? The whole point of the Threefold Reflection was that it could be
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turned into an unsolvable maze at the drop of a hat.
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``You used Winter, to make your gates,'' the shade reminded me. ``Your
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works were known to me.''
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Setting aside the headache-inducing implications of that for later, I
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frowned. So she'd seen where I was planning to get out of Arcadia and
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gone there. Which told me why she was here, but not how she'd gotten
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there in the first place. I eyed her warily, since the question had been
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implied, but she did not speak again. More secrets. Exactly what we
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needed, at the moment.
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``My eye, if you would,'' Masego stiffly asked.
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Akua sketched a bow and produced the glass orb with a flourish of the
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wrist. My frown deepened.
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``You've been running the ritual this whole time,'' I said. ``He could
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see through his eye, you through his, and you sent him instructions
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through it.''
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``Cards,'' she agreed. ``As I was instructed, though I did not always
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know the reasons why.''
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I passed a hand through my hair. Which, as I immediately remembered, had
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been formed out of Winter smoke and mirrors mere moments ago. There was
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no sweat matting the strands even after my extortions, which I was
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almost thankful for. The inhumanity of that was almost comforting,
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compared to the reminder that any sweat I'd feel would be a lie I told
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myself and my will enforced.
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``We're on Buzzard, I take it,'' I said.
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She nodded. I eyed the stone door.
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``So now?'' I probed.
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``We enter,'' Diabolist said. ``After the sixth rune in your head is
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disabled.''
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Skipping a few there, huh. That aside, Vivienne's card had given me the
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eloquent instructions of `don't' when it came to the Skein, so it was
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worth asking her if-
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``And Thief is gone,'' I said. ``Please tell me someone else saw her get
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out of Arcadia.''
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Masego finished putting back his eye in the appropriate burnt-out
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socket, yet another reason to be thankful eating was now optional for
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me, and straightened up.
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``I did as well,'' he said. ``Though she disappeared within moments.''
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``And you didn't think that was worth mentioning?'' I asked.
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``I assumed there was a reason,'' he replied.
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Yeah, that was today in a sentence wasn't it? Could hardly rake him over
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coals for that.
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``Romance my brain, Zeze,'' I ordered with a sigh. ``Let's get this cart
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back on the road before it catches fire. Again.''
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His hand rose, and immediate-
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--
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\emph{``He reads stories,'' Vivienne said.}
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\emph{``We can as well,'' Masego pointed out.}
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\emph{I intervened before that could turn into a proper bicker.}
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\emph{``So we come at him with a plan, he'll have seen it from beginning
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to end,'' I said.}
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\emph{``Essentially,'' she said, after flicking an irritated glance at
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the blind mage. ``Though the interesting implication is that he can only
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`read' a single story at a time. It is possible to fool him.''}
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\emph{``Multiple schemes will be required,'' Akua mused. ``With a degree
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of bridging between them. It would be ideal to begin on a scheme and
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move into another before the Skein can arrange for a point of
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failure.''}
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\emph{``That means someone has to know enough of them to lead us to
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change tacks at critical moment,'' I noted. ``Considering you can't
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really fight, Diabolist, it'll have to be you.''}
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\emph{``She'll need to be fooled as well,'' Hakram spoke up. ``Given
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more plans than we'll actually use and kept in the dark about which few
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options are really on the table.''}
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\emph{``Go random,'' Indrani advised. ``That always fucks with
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oracles.''}
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\emph{Akua nodded in agreement.}
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\emph{``The rest of you will need to be kept ignorant of large swaths of
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what is planned,'' she added after. ``Lest the moment you begin a plan
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the enemy be made aware of it.''}
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\emph{``Masego, you can do memory blocks right?'' I asked.}
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\emph{He nodded.}
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\emph{``An easy enough enchantment for all save you and Diabolist,'' he
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said. ``Conditional triggers can be woven in, though no more than one
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per `block'. Too high a degree of sophistication risks permanence, the
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human mind is a complex device.''}
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\emph{``I don't like how complicated this is getting,'' I admitted.
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``But once you're wet, there's no reason not to swim.''}
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\emph{``I don't follow,'' Masego said, brow creasing.}
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\emph{``We don't leave him to guess between a handful of plans,'' I said
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grimly. ``We \textbf{drown} him in them.''}
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--
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-ly. Rude.
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``So this is a stupid plan, but it's stupid on purpose,'' I said,
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rubbing my forehead. ``That's comforting. You know, except for the part
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where we fail and die horribly.''
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``I was hoping we would avoid that,'' Hierophant gravely said.
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``Yeah, well, you know what the Dead King put up on the gates into this
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place,'' I replied. ``Fine, it's too late to run anyway. Akua, you got
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anything to add?''
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She bowed smoothly.
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``I was ordered,'' she said, ``to fight as an extension of you, should
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it come to swords.''
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``Well, it's not like today has been a cornucopia of good decisions so
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far,'' I mused. ``So what the Hells, let's give it a whirl. Zeze, get
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the door would you?''
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With a deep grinding sound, the stone slabs parted.
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``This is the part where I praise his efficiency,'' Akua announced.
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``Because misunderstandings and incompetent assessments are humorous.''
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Was it wrong that the one of the most horrifying things about the
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mass-murdering maddened shade of my former rival was that she was trying
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to develop a functional sense of humour? If so, Black had shown a lot
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more foresight than I'd thought back in that alley.
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``In we go,'' I said, warily eyeing the darkness within. ``Before I
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start debating whether it'd have been more reassuring to blow our way
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through.''
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Robber was, inarguably, a horrible influence. The ground wasn't stone, I
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knew that just from the feel of it under my boots. It wasn't even flat.
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It crunched. Didn't even need to glance down, the sound was easy enough
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to recognize: bones. Charming. The inside was pitch black save for a
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single well of light illuminating the artefact Thief had spoken of:
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three layered wooden wheels on a stick, with pieces of string joining
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them haphazardly. She'd not mentioned, however, that every wheel was
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about as broad as I was tall. Hierophant followed behind me, and the
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grinding sound told me that-
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``Yeah, so \emph{that}'s not happening,'' I noted.
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Ice bloomed in the way of the closing stone doors, shattering for the
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first few inches but eventually forcing them to a halt as I kept pouring
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power into the working. I was already standing inside a massive dark
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cavern filled with bones, there was no way I was letting the Skein keep
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us stuck inside. Speaking of, there was no sign of the Revenant.
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``At least he's not waiting on a throne,'' I mused. ``Those fights never
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seem to go well for us.''
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There were tall curved rib bones from something definitely not human
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serving as a sort of antechamber leading to the wheels, but that
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screamed `trap' even more than the rest of this room.
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``Hierophant?'' I prompted.
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``We can use them,'' Masego replied. ``I can already glimpse them. Deep,
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but simple.''
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Good to know. Still didn't tell me where the Hells the undead rat was.
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``Oh what a stroke of luck,'' I loudly said. ``The Skein isn't here. I
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guess we'll just walk towards those wheels and-``
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Sword clearing the scabbard in a heartbeat, I stabbed the bones beneath
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my feet and poured the howling might of Winter into the mess. Frost
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crept through the mass of bones, and my eyebrow rose when I realized how
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deep it actually went under us. At least sixty, seventy feet. Not trace
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of the Skein though.
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``Catherine,'' Akua said.
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I sighed.
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``He's above us, isn't he?'' I said.
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The answer wasn't so much laughter as it was the quiet rumbling of the
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storm. A massive shape leapt down and bones were sent flying in every
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direction while I smoothly rose and fell into a guard. Hierophant,
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prudently, came to stand behind me. Diabolist was at my shoulder know,
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and all I felt from her was a hunter's patience. Furred body bending
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over the wheels and cutting through the light, the Skein watched us with
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a leering grin. He was large as Thief had said, but her short
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description had not done the Revenant justice. Thick dark fur covered a
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body that was almost humanoid, save for the long wormlike tail that came
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from its lower back, but it was the head that was discomforting to look
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at. We call their kind ratlings, but looking at that rotting leather it
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was a snake I thought of. The pale golden eyes with deep red gouges
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under them only deepened the impression. The two pairs of bone-like
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antlers ripping through the top of its head were wickedly sharp, even
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after what must have been centuries. A Horned Lord. Even Ranger
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considered the likes of that difficult to deal with, and when we'd come
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across that woman in Arcadia I'd felt like she could murder the lot of
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us in the span of a single breath. Not an opponent I should take
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lightly. Not an opponent I should fight at all, if I could help it.
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Sadly, my mouth disagreed.
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``So can we knock off the theatrics?'' I asked. ``Because, let's be
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honest here, Akua's probably more Evil than you are and if I told her to
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fetch my slippers she'd do it.''
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The creature's dry red tongue licked at fangs half the size of me.
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``Take the wheel, lead the Empress to the orc,'' the Skein said, then
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cocked his head to the side. ``Or. The Empress escapes, yet dies to a
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blade of stolen moonlight. Two paths.''
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``Well, I'm glad someone knows the plan,'' I mused. ``Would you care to
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monologue about how we're going to fail?''
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The Revenant laughed.
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``Then you strike,'' he said. ``Or. She strikes with you. Or. You flee.
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Tricky little things, skittering around, but you entered the maze. You
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did. Surrendered too many paths. No end remaining is fortunate.''
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I reached for the last card inside my cloak and my fingers came away
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wet. My hand rose.
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``Just give me a moment,'' I asked.
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The ancient abomination stilled. I got the sense he was somewhat taken
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aback. Last card, huh. I slipped it out and angled it so the light well
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the Revenant was across would make it clearer. The Queen of Swords.
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\emph{You have an invisible crossbow.}
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Written diagonally, across the whole thing. I flipped it. Nothing on the
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other side. Seriously, Past Catherine? That was the entire message? She
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might as well have just drawn herself flipping me the bird. What an
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asshole.
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``Catherine?'' Masego probed.
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``If you were hoping for a solution,'' I said. ``That was not it.''
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``It was pointless,'' the Skein said. ``Seventeen stories? Pretty little
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tales, but you always end up here. No matter the path, the destination
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is the same.''
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Seventeen. Gods. There wasn't enough alcohol in all of Keter to justify
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that, and even worse I was pretty sure we'd planned this sober.
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``Look,'' I said. ``I'm with you on this one. This whole thing has been
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a debacle from start to finish, and the person responsible should be
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buried alive. We're on the same side, here.''
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The Revenant stilled again. Evidently, this was not unfolding as
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expected.
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``You did this,'' he tried.
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``That can't be, I don't remember it,'' I immediately denied.
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I'd fought enough Praesi to know that sufficiently high station and
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blatant lies could get you out of nearly anything, if you played your
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cards right.
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``We should look into it together,'' I told him. ``Have you considered
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we might be getting framed? I'm just saying, this is a horrible plan. I
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could do better. It just doesn't add up.''
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``Does this actually ever work?'' I heard Akua ask Masego in a whisper.
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There was a beat.
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``It got us into Skade,'' he eventually conceded.
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``Are you trying to lie to an oracle?'' the Skein said, by the sound of
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it genuinely offended.
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``I would never dare lie to you,'' I lied. ``You're obviously a\ldots{}
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rat-person of highly discerning judgement. If you just get Malicia in
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here, I'm sure we can straighten all of this out.''
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``It's like watching a demon get loose,'' Akua murmured. ``You know you
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should run, but you just \emph{have} to look.''
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``You want me to bring the Empress here,'' the Revenant said. ``The
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Empress that you are trying to kill.''
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``That's completely unrelated,'' I said, proceeding forward with greatly
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unwarranted assurance. ``And hearsay besides. I'm as loyal to the Tower
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as any Praesi.''
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Assuming said Praesi was highborn, anyway.
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``Did you truly expect this to succeed?'' the Skein eventually asked.
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``I've rolled the dice on worse odds,'' I admitted, perhaps a little too
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honestly.
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While that was not a high point by any definition of the term, it
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definitely went downhill from there.
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---
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I'd learned several things today. First, elves were bullshit even when
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they were dead. I wasn't unaware that I didn't have a lot of room to
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talk when it came to recovering from wounds, but who the Hells just
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decided they were all right and had Creation agree like a drunker
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singer? Second, when the Lady of the Lake called a breed of foe `hard
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fuckers' she meant `how would someone even kill that thing if it wasn't
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already dead?'. I was now on my eighth sword, and beginning to
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appreciate why heroes always got handed some nifty legendary blade
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before they were sent into the meat grinder. I might as well have been
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trying to breach a wall swinging at it with a salmon. And, not, I grimly
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thought, even a large one. That was, sadly, not even in the top ten of
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my current problems. The Skein's jaw hung unhinged, gaping wide, and it
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closed only when the last of the darkness had been swallowed into it.
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There went my domain.
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Which he had eaten, because that was a thing that could be done.
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``It comes,'' Akua whispered into my ear.
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\emph{Thank you, helpful collar fairy,} I acidly thought. If I'd wanted
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a running fucking commentary, I'd have asked Black for a talking sword.
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I leapt onto a platform even as the Skein's bare fist collided with the
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bones beneath where I'd stood, immediately leaping onto another before
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the swing of his tail could catch me. I'd learned the hard way that I
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couldn't take a hit from the Revenant without spending precious moments
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rebuilding whatever passed for my spine these days.
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``Burn,'' Hierophant said.
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Ribbons of golden flame streaked across the dark cavern, folding around
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one of the Skein's limbs, but he turned and casually sucked the fire
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into his open maw. The breath that spread was putrid, like something
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left to rot for so long the rot was all that was left. The Horned Lord
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flicked at glance at Masego, who stood atop a ring of bones surrounded
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by a pale globe of light, and without warning \emph{moved}. Fuck. I took
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a running leap off my platform, then as the fall quickened my momentum
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called on my domain again. The brushstrokes of night came but twice
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before the Revenant lazily struck down right through them. The darkness
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dispersed like smoke and then the backlash hit. My eyes froze in their
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sockets, then shattered, and with a hoarse scream I dropped out of my
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controlled fall into a pile of bones.
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``Move,'' Akua said.
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I rolled to the side without thinking, and a massive impact close to me
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had me spinning back in the air. I reached for my face -- was that a rib
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going through my cheek? -- and forced the eyes to form quicker. Vision
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returned just in time to see the massive handful of claws headed my way.
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Flick of the wrist and ice sprouted on them, forming a long staff I
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caught by the side, and then the tail smashed me into the wall of this
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accursed place. There went my spine again. There really was not getting
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used to that, was there? I heard Masego bark out something in the mage
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tongue and dropped listlessly to the ground. Diabolist was there, red
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eyes and pleasant smile, helping me up.
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``There was mention of fighting together,'' I said after spitting out a
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few of my teeth.
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Akua Sahelian offered me her hand.
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``Shall we?'' she said.
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Gods help me, but I took it.
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