Wretch opened his eyes and stretched. His tail slithered toward the nightstand, searching for the clock.
07:14
Sixteen minutes earlier than he needed.
Strange. No nightmares.
He sat up in the tiny hotel room. A mirror rested on the bedstand, and his image stared back at him. It looked sated, the thing in the reflection. Pleased with the bloodshed he had given. At least for now.
He shrugged and got dressed, pulling on his fresh gloves and sunglasses. A weight shifted the floorboards above, and a twitch ran down his claws.
He stood still for a moment, then shook his head.
For better or worse, they were safe here.
I'll be thankful for the respite and leave it at that.
The door creaked open, and he walked down to the lobby. Intricate furniture filled the space, carpets discolored from bleach, sofas clean but frayed at the seams. An employee behind the counter welcomed him with a slight bow. She glanced curiously at his gloved hands and sunglasses, her eyes lingering on the tail swiping behind him.
“Good morning,” Wretch said, returning the bow. “Have you seen a giant red-haired woman? Nasty behavior, violent too!”
The employee blinked. “A rather tall miss headed down to the basement just ten minutes ago. Though she was polite, perhaps not the person you are looking for?”
“Oh no, that is her all right, and thank the Saint,” Wretch said with a chuckle. “She must be in a good mood today.”
He descended the stairs while limbering up his shoulders.
“You could not help yourself, could you?” he said before he even turned the corner to the chamber.
A large hall filled with pillars and arches opened before him. What it had been used for in ancient times was unknown, but now it had been reduced to a storage room. Stacks of sacks, boxes, and barrels lined the walls. In the middle, a panting Elenya stood in black pants and a white shirt, her hands wrapped around the cleaver.
She swung in broad arcs, the hulking piece of metal whistling through the air.
“Are rats lazy by nature?” she said without looking up. “I thought you would take training seriously after seeing a hunter die.”
“The girl at the counter said a pleasant redhead came down here,” Wretch said, leaning in the doorway. “I feared an imposter. Glad to hear that was not the case.”
She gave him a quick smile, and he returned a toothy half-smile.
“How is it?” Wretch asked, nodding toward the weapon.
“Heavy.”
“But you are strong.”
Elenya smirked. “Cannot argue with that.”
“Can I touch it? Barely got a glimpse yesterday.”
“Ratty, you cannot ask a lady that,” Elenya said.
“You are not a lady,” Wretch said, taking a step forward and pulling off his white glove.
The cleaver itself was almost as tall as he was, a solid piece of metal sharpened into a curved blade. Its silver hue was streaked with red, as if the alloy itself had been seeped in blood. The handle was so thick that Wretch could not even grip it, and even if he could, its weight was beyond what he could lift. Yet Elenya wielded it with some effort, the muscles bulging under the fabric of her shirt.
He brushed against its surface, and information flooded his mind.
Umbilical Cleaver.
Expend flame to empower the next cut, increasing sharpness and speed.
With each empowered cut, a wound will form on the wielder, regardless of whether the strike lands true.
Wretch doubted that the things in the mist had the ability to create Blessed weapons out of skill and mastery. But rather they must have used it so frequently the Flame thought it worthy of a name. He'd been told such things were rare, but not impossible.
“That is decent, a bit simple for my taste though,” Wretch said, pulling back and jumping up to sit on a barrel littered with cobwebs. “Its previous wielder is crouched by my flame. It spat acid on my new shoes.”
Elenya only chuckled and spun into motion, using the weight of the weapon to lead each cut into the next. Every step and movement she made was deliberate, like a dance that promised death. He had become used to seeing her with the halberd, a weapon she wielded with methodical cuts, strikes, and thrusts. This weapon was different, demanding inhuman strength in exchange for uncompromising brutality.
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For a split second, her eyes lit with fire and the cleaver snapped downward, whistling through the air in a blur too fast to follow—a line of red bloomed on her white shirt.
That is going to be hard to dodge, he thought.
He watched for a minute, then shook his head. “Keep it. I cannot use it as I am now.”
“Sure, but you can change,” Elenya said, continuing her deadly dance. “I have seen it.”
Wretch thought for a moment, rubbing his chin. “And when you pass it to me in the middle of battle, it'll be a surprise.”
In those few words, they came to an agreement.
“You must be close to Fireling by now?” Wretch said, drawing his Blinking Blade to inspect his tongue in the reflection of its surface.
“Twelve times kindled and still nothing. Bloody annoying.”
“Did your flame move during the last fight?” Wretch said, voice unclear as he inspected the base of his tongue in the reflection.
Elenya stopped.
She turned to him with scrutinizing eyes, her red hair falling across her face.
“It did…”
“That happened to me right before I ascended to Fireling.”
A wicked grin spread across her face. His gaze caught hers and, just as quickly, it shifted back to her usual expression. She cleared her throat, walked to a waterskin, and doused her head. Her hair clung to her neck.
“How are you holding up after Gulner?” she asked.
Wretch spun the dagger in his hand. “We made the right calls, and even then, we lost a man. The outside is just that dangerous.”
“What if I died?” Elenya said, letting the Umbilical Cleaver rest against her shoulders.
“I would not let that happen,” Wretch said simply.
She turned and squinted at him with an amused look.
“You would not let that happen?”
“No,” Wretch said, juggling the Blinking Blade between his hands and tail, refusing to meet her eyes.
“What if we are up against something strong? There are things out there that would crush us.”
“No.”
“No?” Elenya said.
Wretch caught the Blinking Blade in his palm. A shudder started from his neck and traveled down to his claws. He shook his head and his expression lightened.
“Are we going to spar or not?” he said, jumping down from the barrel.
“My bad,” Elenya said, leaning the weapon against a pillar. “Whatever happens, happens. But no weapons or powers.”
She cracked her knuckles. “We will wreck the place.”
An hour later, they gathered in the hotel lobby. A modest assortment of bread, sausages, and canned ham acted as a buffet for the handful of guests. The Richters had claimed a corner for themselves. Dalynja and what remained of her crew sat a few tables away, her eyes on a thick report.
The price of losing a Blessed.
Astrid pushed oatmeal around in her bowl. Across from her, Wretch gulped down a mountain of food at alarming speed.
“It is all right, Astrid,” Edmund said. “That feeling will pass.”
She sighed and sipped coffee from a chipped cup. “The world outside the wall was not what I expected. I knew it would be bad. But that mist… I hesitate to even pour milk in my coffee.”
“Eye opening, though!” Wretch said through a mouthful of food. “I wonder what other horrors are out there.”
Elenya kicked his shin under the table, and he flinched.
“Chew, swallow, speak. In that order,” she said.
Edmund did not seem to notice their bickering, or he pretended not to. “I have seen places outside the walls to the east. Dangerous. Filled with ruins, curses, and beasts. But once that land was ours, and it will be ours again someday.”
Astrid gave a faint nod, and Wretch patted her shoulder as the captain continued. “Gulner died a hunter’s death, fighting so others could live. He will rest with the others atop a spire back home.”
Astrid shook her head. “Is the flame a blessing or a curse?”
“What do you mean?” Wretch said, tearing into a slice of ham.
“People would die for it. Then once they get it, they seem to do just that.”
“It is a fair price,” Elenya answered, and Wretch nodded along.
Astrid reluctantly forced a spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth, letting the cutlery rest between her lips as she spoke. “Now it is not even just the creatures from beyond the walls we fight, but also the Gulschaks. Humans. The more I learn about the world, the more it seems… mad.”
“That reminds me, what happened to that letter?” Elenya said, pointing a fork at Wretch.
“From the Professor. Just taunts. I will kill him next time we meet and show his head to the other survivors.”
Elenya laughed and twirled the fork beside her temple. “Boy has a screw loose, Astrid. Don't mind him.”
Astrid squinted at him. “To think we would just happen upon it, out there of all places.”
Edmund cleared his throat. “It has been sent back to Central via telegram, then burned along with the other letters. It could prove a boon in rooting out the other saboteurs, but you would do well to let those thoughts go for now.”
He adjusted his tie. “Speaking of that, a survey train inspected the tracks back to Stonemourn yesterday evening. Clear. No sign of the dog-like creatures or that giant in the mist.”
“Thank the Saint!” Astrid exclaimed.
“The standing officer wants to meet us after lunch, but other than that, our mission is done. A train is leaving in the afternoon, and one hundred and fifty pounds each are waiting for us at Nov Yanosk,” Edmund said.
His expression grew uncomfortably kind as he turned to Elenya. “Then we will have to make arrangements for your new weapon. It was acquired on an official mission after all, but I am sure we can come to a suitable payment plan.”
The giant woman groaned bitterly. “We are leaving for the city already? I was hoping to try out the new cleaver and maybe catch up to Fireling. Perhaps they have a horror in the sewers that needs killing?”
“I would not be too worried,” Wretch said. “Trouble seems to find us.”
His tail slithered up from under the table and snatched a half-eaten sandwich from her plate.
Elenya’s hand shot out and caught it.
“Oh, you are about to find trouble all right,” Elenya said with a furrowed brow. She yanked the tail, and with a yelp, Wretch disappeared under the table.
“Saint almighty,” Edmund said, rubbing his forehead. “You two are like peas in a pod.”
Elenya stood up, holding Wretch upside down by his tail, thrashing and dangling, to the shock, amusement and whispers of the other guests.
“What? Look at this overgrown rat. We are nothing alike!”
“Yeah!” Wretch joined in with crossed arms, still swaying upside down. “Not alike at all!”
Astrid muffled a look of disbelief, and Edmund pushed his hat down. An uneventful trip back to Nov Yanosk was in order, but elsewhere in Sternthal, cogs were turning.
