An hour before the appointed witching hour, as determined by the stars, Deikmorn snuck to the tent flying the golden ribbon in the servant's section, unsure what to expect. He had on numerous layers of protection — all that he could think of, and even a means to quickly summon waiting backup. He scoped out the tent for magic from afar. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, exactly as one would expect of a servant’s tent.

  The real owner of that tent was sleeping cozily in his bed. Happily, he felt. The gift had been unwrapped and admired, but he had deliberately frustrated himself in the acts performed, never ‘unsheathing the sword,’ as it were. He wanted to stay angry and sharp. Lusty for blood, if necessary. Well, the girl deserved to feel indulged and cherished anyway. If she wanted, he’d find her a proper husband. But his instincts were that she was too wrapped up in Nyomel’s bizarre dominion.

  Despite the silence of the tent, Deikmorn could tell someone was in it. Instead of going in through the noisy, almost assuredly open flaps, he pulled out a special enchanted knife and cut through the tent. It made no noise, and when he let it go, it would fuse back as if never cut at all.

  He slipped in to see a very, very faintly lit inside, with the glint of eyes watching him from a low bedroll, peeking out from blankets. Nyomel. Amused.

  Deikmorn, still crouching, stared at her incredulously for a moment, then let the cut seal behind him. He regarded her flatly and whispered, “You’re displaying yourself oddly vulnerable for my assumptions.”

  Nyomel raised an eyebrow. “As if I don’t know rumors for reality, [Assassin] of Venos Gale? Even one hour on the dot, from the Witching Hour. Isn’t it? Precision is a habit for you. If you want me dead, I will be, so I cling to you wanting me alive. Thus, I surrender.” She smiled suggestively.

  Deikmorn growled in his throat — for more than one reason, perhaps. He whispered furiously, “You could’ve done so most obviously — and believably — after the fight! If you had other ideas, you should’ve shared them. It was you who arranged to poison me. Would you deny it?”

  “No. I offended and wounded you. Though it was nonlethal, as you miraculously managed to notice. Regardless, I betrayed you. I submit myself for your punishment.”

  Deikmorn sighed grandly. Stop being so tempting. “I know what you’re doing. It’s not good enough, Nyomel.”

  Her arms snaked out as she shifted to prop her cheek up with a hand, flashing bits of jewelry on otherwise teasing, bare flesh. “But still good? A portion of good enough, perhaps?”

  “Perhaps. You know what else I want.”

  Nyomel laughed. “True as ever. An explanation. A revelation of plot. Of course. Would you prefer before, or… after?”

  Deikmorn marveled at her, shaking his head. “I believe the word is: now.”

  She sighed in disappointment, which might’ve been an act. “Very well. The ruin from a loss in the duel would not have been enough, I’m afraid, even with injury. The politics are that stubborn. There needed to be more dishonor. The pollution of utilizing poison was the perfect solution. Win or lose, he’d be despised by the two core clan leaders as cowardly. Especially to be discovered so publicly. While he could never be convinced to do it, he was stupid enough to be fooled by lies about his ancestors blessing the blade. Holy oil.”

  Nyomel smiled. “Sadly, the ‘hucksters’ he now claimed duped him are nowhere to be found. It does not matter if he was duped or is lying, though — either damns him as incompetent and casts suspicion on who is ‘helping’ him. As honor goes, he’s supposed to admit it or prove otherwise, and he’s doing neither, making things even worse.”

  Deikmorn was scowling through it all. Mostly because it was sound plotting, and he’d been left out of it. “Why dupe me in the process? That offends me more than anything.”

  “I truly apologize, but… you are no actor, Deiky. I wanted believable reactions, believable outrage. Such a matter is balanced on the edge of a blade by the shrewd observers that were present. It remained entirely possible they’d blame you and me for setting it up. See things to point out. Some have even found it suspicious you noticed the poison. It… unfortunately brings up those ‘rumors,’ hmm? Either they believe that, or they believe you set it up. Or both. Regardless, it costs us.”

  “So you turned your back on me because despite winning and avoiding the poison, I remain poisoned.”

  “For now. It isn’t lost on me you might not want this grand position.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  A soft, knowing grin. “Let’s not pretend any longer, hmm? I know whom you serve, effectively.”

  “Is it that obvious, then?”

  “To me? Yes. To the greater army? Not at all. Nor would they care. To the other leaders? That I don’t know, yet. I have put myself in a position, however, to gain their confidence. Or I suppose I should say, a chance to prove myself. Now, they have little choice but to do as I initially wanted.”

  Things fully added up, finally, to Deikmorn. “The council. The stall, because they now don’t have anyone to take the mantle and they’re leery of me. You’ve cemented the decision ostensibly to present a barrier to me. Or leverage to influence me. You’re already proving yourself, and you can change their minds potentially to support you. Assuming they’ll tolerate your way of doing things.”

  “They have a smidge of grudging respect from my rejection. If they come to suspect, even without much proof, that I orchestrated everything subtly, perhaps they’ll realize the potential. I admit that is a gamble, but we’ll ensure one of three results — indefinite council rule, my ascendancy, or yours, smothering any other upstart contenders. It depends partly on you and what game you are willing to play.”

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  This treacherous minx is a golden asset if she can be directed correctly. I worry her ambitions will finally set her at odds with Puck and Zadkiel. Ah well. Might as well let her burn brightly for the time she has. I can indulge and enjoy it for now. Deikmorn put on a devilish grin. “I’ll be your villain to them if you want. That’s what you like, anyway, isn’t it, now? A swordsmith in the dark.”

  Nyomel pursed her lips and suddenly threw off her blanket, revealing the glory of her nudity, decorated in bits of gold and jewels. “Is the villain going to take his spoils, now? I trust the appetizer was satisfactory? You didn’t exhaust your appetite on it too much, did you?”

  Eyes roaming over her quite cultivated and prepared presentation, Deikmorn shook his head. “Not at all. I saved it, in fact.” He met her eyes, and her own widened at the implication. She was genuinely shocked. Not an actor, am I? Well, I can play the ‘role’ she wants right now. “Now, cast a sound-proofing spell for our discretion needs this time. You’ve got a long night and morning ahead of you, and I will hear every honest utterance of your punishment.”

  ??············???···········??

  Ralli and Tanjhere flew their spirit bodies into the tangled mass that was the Wyld. Instantly upon crossing the threshold of the divide, they fell downward from sudden gravity and the cessation of their floatation.

  “Ahhhhh-” “Kyahhhhhhhhhhh!”

  Sammy caught a small baby vine, swung, and slammed into a bigger vine, to tumble downward and somehow keep from falling over either edge, finally stabilizing to slide down it on a gradual slowing bend she was able to just barely control. But she was covered in guck because the vine was slippery with silver slime.

  Fucking gross! Ew! Yuck yuck yuck! It smells like feet!

  Tanjhere was thankfully not dead, either, having caught and then promptly getting tangled in some vines. Slightly above and out from Ralli, she was dangling from her legs and slowly spinning, her dress almost obscuring her face as it was reversed over her. She fought to get it out of the way.

  Despite herself, sitting on her rear covered in gritty slime, Sammy burst out in laughter at the comical sight. “Nice undies! Hey, at least you’re wearing them, right!? Ah hahahaha!”

  Azure thrust fabric out of the way just to glare balefully with bared fangs. “You shut the fuck up, Samantha! You’re going to pay for your mockery.”

  “Ooooh, I’m sooo scared — Hanged Woman. Ah hahaha! Shake it for me, momma!”

  “Grrrrh!” The glare had its power diminished by an unfortunate spin turning her completely away.

  Sammy whistled tauntingly at the sight. She was able to admire it only briefly before Azure quaffed some potion, and a green aura surrounded her. She extended her hand and a larger energy claw formed from the aura to grasp a tree branch and pull her to it.l The vines went slack through the process. She set about disentangling herself from the vines while atop the stable structure of the branch.

  In the meantime, Sammy cast a spell to clean herself of the guck and then designed something like a skin-tight forcefield to keep it off. The grime cleared away as she took each step, which also aided her grip.

  Hmm. I should’ve used Jammer immediately, huh? The activation and the wires firing off are lightning-quick.

  Experimenting, she utilized the staff, sending the wires out to wrap around the tree where Tanjhere was, making a small ‘platform,’ and carrying herself there. It was fluid and easy, gradually becoming clear that Jammer was like a third, very versatile limb to Rallindin.

  Way different than Foolmaker. My utility is mainly in powers and spells. But Rallindin does not have [Pneuma]. Interesting.

  She helped Azure untangle the last of the vines as they looked around. “No obvious route at all,” Sammy commented. Then she yelped, as Azure slapped her hard on the butt.

  “Don’t complain!” Azure admonished with wide, warning eyes. “You know you deserved it. And more. You brat.”

  Sammy made a mocking face but didn’t argue, knowing better. “Follow me. I can at least tell from here how to get deeper. We’ll shoot for the center.”

  “If there even is one…”

  Sweeping through by levered locomotion, they proceeded through the giant trees, vines, and plants, avoiding the caked-on grime of the ‘man-sized’ ones especially, as even being downwind of them was a foul experience.

  Other vegetation was more palatable, including the unique woodsy scent of the trees and some of the biggest spikes of color in the wilderness — faint, but multicolored giant metallic flower blooms. Azure was adamant they keep their distance, however, not knowing the potential threat they might pose. Sammy rolled her eyes but relented.

  A few bits of wildlife became evident. An arm-sized moth hovered and partook of nectar from a flower. An enormous sluggy worm-thing slowly moved down a vine, cleaning it of the cheesy muck.

  I’m glad something does. Hyuck!

  They definitely kept their distance from that. It looked like just the sort of thing one would approach and have suddenly jump on them, and Sammy was noping right out of that possibly with alacrity.

  Some indication of bird-like entities was seen higher up, but they never got a look, just swaying leaves and calls. Though she worried they might be big enough to attack in that place, and kept an eye out, they never caught sight.

  “Hnnk! Shit. Look.” Tanjhere grabbed Ralli’s arm and pointed.

  A silver feline the size of a rhino, with black stripes and angel-like wings, was watching them from a branch, silent and still, almost blending in with the background.

  Hmm. Wings…

  Azure was subconsciously clutching Sammy as they both watched, holding deadly still, wondering what would happen.

  The hand of Rallindin raised slowly and waved. “Uh… hi? Do you talk?”

  It stared back at her for a long spell. Then it slowly opened its mouth… into a snarl. Loud hissing resounded.

  Two more they had not even seen on branches elsewhere suddenly hissed too.

  Oh great.

  I'm afraid these aren't Nice Kitties, Good Kitties.

  Next Chapter...

  Hmm, could that mean... a fight?

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