Chapter 64: A Few Less Gods

  “You’re seriously telling me that you fixed my device,” Shadow said, leaning in so that the darkness from his hood covered not only his eyes, but now also his mouth, “and then you lost it?”

  The razor-sharp dagger in his hand began cutting his fingernails. He used one fluid--but precise--motion at a time. He had to cut something to keep himself from cutting this man’s throat.

  “N-not lost, sir. I-it was s-stolen!”

  The way the man’s eyes followed Shadow’s deft movements proved he knew that the blade might as well have been pressed ever so gently to his throat.

  Still, the merchant was no fool, or Shadow wouldn’t have come to him in the first place. Shadow kept his voice perfectly calm, devoid of any of the anger or fear he was currently feeling. “Stolen when?”

  “T-two days after I sent the message.”

  So three days ago, Shadow thought, cursing that it had taken him so long to return to Whiteholme. He had been working other angles, even a couple potential leads on Brightside, but clearly he’d let himself range too widely. It took three days to get back, and now my lead is gone. His eyes narrowed. For now.

  Ever since his meeting with Christopher, his life had been catastrophically unpredictable for a man of his sensibilities.

  Shadow shifted the knife to his other hand and began tidying his remaining fingernails. “Why didn’t you inform me immediately?”

  The merchant swallowed, eyes still fixated on Shadow’s handiwork. “Well, I figured you were already coming..."

  Shadow admitted that line of logic could make sense, especially to a coward.

  If he was being honest with himself, this situation was his own fault. Had he not put distance between himself and Whiteholme, had he just stayed closer to the small mountain town, this wouldn’t have happened. But his battle with the boy, Tristan, had drawn certain attention, and he couldn’t risk more of that for the place that had once been his home. Even now, he felt he should leave it quickly again, though that impulse was also enhanced by a rage emanating from his daggers, begging he spill blood.

  He was frustrated, but who wouldn’t have been in this case? Despite years of being so careful, he’d been ambushed. In his secret hometown. By a tier 2! And he still wasn’t exactly sure how!

  To Shadow, not knowing was by far the worst of it. He could try to write some of it off as quest fuckery, but... no, there was more to it. The boy was practically an enigma, a nearly blank spot amid all Shadow’s knowledge. That made the kid utterly fascinating. It was no wonder Shadow’s curiosity had taken over; it was so rare to find anything truly unknown! Besides, it had been so long since Shadow had let himself go like that, indulging in the uncertainty and drawing out details.

  It wasn’t like the kid ever posed a real threat; he was just hard to kill. Shadow shook his head at the ridiculousness of that statement. A tier 2, hard to kill for a tier 4. Imagine if he keeps going, what a monster he’ll be!

  Shadow nearly grinned, but he caught himself again. He couldn't afford to drop his focused impartiality this time. Just as he didn’t let his anger take over, neither would his curiosity. This was serious, deadly. He had to keep his game face on.

  “The only way someone else could have taken my device is for them to first know you had it. Who did you tell?”

  “Well, you see, I didn’t exactly trust myself with the mechanism, not once I found what looked like a detonation trigger...?"

  Shadow nodded along but neither interrupted nor replied to the sloppy interrogative tone.

  “So I consulted with a friend of mine, a-an old connection, you see, a tinker type. He works safely with this stuff all the time.”

  Still not smiling, Shadow positioned the dagger carefully, pointing its blade toward the merchant, but not yet moving it any closer. Then he let his hand slip away from it, leaving the blade frozen in midair by his chest, exactly as he’d left it.

  “How nice to hear you have other friends.” He placed both of his now-empty hands on the counter where his fixed device should have been, leaning in slightly farther, so the dagger was near his hooded face. “I need a name.”

  “Edward Fidget.”

  At last, Shadow allowed himself to smile, though he did not show his teeth. Restraint was still the order of the day. “And where would I look for our soon-to-be-mutual friend?”

  - - - - -

  The town of Southslope was even smaller than Whiteholme. Then again, being only a day’s ride away, that wasn’t so surprising. This was still an unclaimed area, not a part of any god’s domain. Perhaps that was why it seemed so peaceful.

  But Shadow also knew better than to trust appearances.

  Rather than ride straight into town, he tied his borrowed horse within a copse of trees by a large, unplowed field where no one would just wander by. Then he sat cross-legged on the ground, closed his eyes, focused his mind, and used [Shadow Clone] to create four dark copies of himself, stealthily sending each to one of the town’s four corners.

  He had been practicing with this skill nearly nonstop since he’d learned it, and only about a week ago had he upgraded the ability to see through four sets of eyes at once. Doing so was intensely draining, and it left him vulnerable, as it required his undivided attention. But at this moment, he didn’t care. Anyone who found him out here in this backwater would be a local, and Shadow was fairly sure there was no one in this place he couldn’t handle.

  He felt that time was of the essence, and he’d already lost so much of it. Then again, rushing would only serve to compound his disadvantages. While this task was intensely personal, Shadow was a professional. He would still treat it with all the thoroughness of his usual trade.

  First he would find this Edward Fidget tinker. Then he would observe the man, see if he had anything that might indicate a sudden windfall. If it turned out that this was just the beginning of the thief’s trail, then Shadow would still find and follow the clues all the way to their end. As he always did.

  He was patient, after all, and there was nothing more important to him in the entire realm right now than recovering this device.

  It didn’t take long to find the rather substantial shop just off the second largest street. The sign out front was bordered by cogs and gears, with “Edward’s Engineering” in blocky white letters. All four of Shadow’s clones converged on it immediately.

  Inside, the place was divided into two main rooms. The front, which was clearly the more business-oriented shop, was immaculately clean. The glass was clear and unsmudged. Price tags adorned every gadget and gizmo, all clearly indicating gold costs in black ink using a well-practiced script.

  The back room was the workshop, and despite being occupied, it was surprisingly tidy. Shadow had half expected to see it an utter mess, mostly thanks to the handful of tinkers he’d known throughout his life. They’d all tended to utilize their own ‘systems’... of which no one but the tinker themselves could make any sense. Here, though, the shelves and drawers were all full but definitely not overflowing. There were even clean, straight spaces separating sections of storage. Tools were hung directly on the wall before the workbench, with each having a hand-drawn outline, like a dropped shadow, denoting what went where.

  All except one: a seemingly new acquisition that merely rested on the workbench itself, not yet added to the wall, even though a space had been cleared for it. The man’s neatness made Shadow more cautious; he wouldn’t touch anything for now. Such an organized person was more likely to recognize when things were outside of the norm.

  Brand new, eh?

  The man was clearly too fastidious to leave it unmounted for long. Shadow’s lips twisted into a wolfish grin as he delved into his memories, seeking a name and price for the dustless device... and found that “obsidian sparkers” tended to run a few hundred gold pieces each in most markets.

  On his desk, a clone showed Shadow several of the tinker’s contracts and commissions, with none close to that level of compensation.

  Unsurprisingly, his ledger--which was otherwise as tidy as the rest of the workshop--also showed no indication of a windfall... and its bottom line was far from prosperous.

  So where did you get the gold for that new toy, I wonder? No way business is suddenly that good in a town of this size.

  Shadow had already gleaned enough to warrant interrogating the man, he wanted to see what else he might learn first.

  So Shadow at last turned his full attention to the tinker himself, who was still seated at his workbench. His long blonde hair was tied tightly behind his back, with not a strand out of place. On his face were a pair of goggles with telescoping lenses. The man was manipulating something mechanical with one gloved hand while his other fidgeted with a switchbox. A yellow light was blinking irregularly on the box, with the tinker grunting frustratedly each time the light went off.

  Shadow had decided to leave one of his clones watching over the proprietor while his other three searched the workshop more thoroughly.

  Once the box’s blinking yellow light became steady, the man lifted his head and turned to look squarely at Shadow’s clones, each in turn, asking aloud: “Are you going to come question me in person?”

  The tinker then swiveled in his chair, fully returning his attention (and both hands) to the machine, completely ignoring the switchbox.

  Cheeky bastard, Shadow thought, pulling his senses back into his own body and shaking free of the resulting sluggishness. He hated how heavy his body felt after directly controlling his shadow clones for that long. Perhaps one day he’d be able to find a way to move as they did. But not today. Today, he had a date with a potentially-thieving tinker.

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  Who was he to ignore such a clear invitation?

  - - - - -

  “I don’t have your detonator,” the tinker said. They were the first words out of his mouth after Shadow had silently slipped through the door into the shop’s backroom.

  “Yet you knew exactly why I was here,” Shadow replied. “Where is it then?”

  “How would I know that? The one time I saw it, I helped mend it. A truly magnificent piece of technology, I must admit. I wish I’d designed it myself. I gained an Inspiration worth two full levels just in realigning the circuitry while the casing was being mended.”

  Shadow proceeded to the edge of the workbench and picked up the obsidian sparker with one hand. Before the man could object, a dagger flashed into the other, pointed straight toward the tinker.

  “Let me explain our dilemma, Edward. See, there was only one other person who knew where my device, which you admit to fixing, was. And immediately after you gave it back to that other man, who I’ve known and worked with for decades, it was stolen. And now, as if in my device’s place, I see you’ve acquired an expensive new toy.” Shadow turned the device over in his hand. “Quite the coincidence, Edward.”

  Shadow observed the slight grimace, and the perspiration beginning to glisten on his forehead. Even the tiny flicker from the tinker’s finger as he considered--but ultimately stopped himself from--pressing another button on the switchbox. That was good, because Shadow would have lopped off the offending finger long before it hit its mark.

  “There was nothing illegal about what I did. I was offered a fair price for just a sliver of my knowledge about it.”

  Nodding his head, Shadow pulled all four of his clones into a tight, shoulder-to-shoulder circle around the seated man’s chair, with himself forming the final link.

  “I can respect your gray morality.” The circle tightened. “I still want my device back.”

  The man was clearly scared now, but he tried to keep his chin up as he spoke quickly. “Look, this guy came in asking if I’d seen anything like it. As if he already knew I’d worked on it! And the price was more than fair. I only told him who had it. I didn’t mention what it could do, or anything else.”

  “Good,” Shadow said, crossing his arms. “You see, Edward, I too appreciate good intelligence. So, why don’t you tell me more about ‘this guy.’ In fact, if you tell me everything--where, when, and what you said to the man who paid you--I’ll offer you a fair price, too.”

  The tinker visibly swallowed. “What price?”

  Shadow slowly pulled back his cloak, revealing all the handles of his knives belted to his sides. “Well, let’s see. The normal punishment for theft is a hand, but you only enabled the theft. I think we can settle for fingers then. That’s how I’ll pay you. How many you keep depends on how many acceptable answers you give. I wonder, how many fingers do you need to keep walking your Path? And at what number would the challenge just push you harder to innovate?”

  - - - - -

  Shadow had been sitting in the bar for two hours and twenty minutes when the man Edward had described arrived. The tinker’s description, which had originally sounded exaggerated, had been surprisingly precise.

  The man was tall, and the kind of thin that elongated his features, especially his nose and chin. He was wrapped in a heavy coat, but that didn’t seem to add any real bulk to his frame. Despite his lack of muscle, he still felt powerful, and the way he carried himself, the way he moved, spoke to his own knowledge of it.

  The man walked to the bar and sat on the exact stool Edward had said he would, third from the left. He didn’t say a single word, yet the bartender slid a freshly-mixed drink in front of him. Even across the room, Shadow could hear it fizzing and popping as the man lifted it to his lips and downed it in one shot.

  For twenty minutes, Shadow sat and studied this man. He absorbed the man’s initial silence, as well as the way that he seemed to spring to life when addressed by anyone at all, whether it be a bartender, a waitress, or the slightly drunk woman who accidentally bumped into him. They all brought a sparkle to his gray eyes and a smile to his thin lips.

  What Shadow found strangest was the pairing of the man's complete ease with his total control of the entire room. To anyone else, it might have seemed like he was just one amid the crowd, but Shadow saw the eddies in the social flow of the room shift towards him. Anyone who entered was drawn to him, almost as surely as they went to the bar itself.

  The seventh time he greeted a new arrival without having turned his head, Shadow knew there was more to this person than just charisma. So when a waiter brought an unordered shot to Shadow's booth, and the mystery man lifted one of his own in a silent salute, Shadow knew there was little more to be gained in silent observation and decided to approach.

  Of course, first he lifted the shot to his lips before carefully emptying it into his magical storage. At least he'd look polite. He also used the pause, and clear acknowledgement of his presence, to [Identify] the man.

  It returned only three characters:

  [ ? ]

  He blinked and tried again, just to be sure he’d seen it correctly, and of course he had. It was unmistakable.

  He also knew without a single doubt that he'd gone decades without having his [Identify]--by far his most upgraded skill--totally blanked, and it had now happened twice in the span of one year. At least the last time, he rationalized, it had been an item. A divinely protected item, but still just an item. Even the man called Brightside had only managed to hide his race, level, and class. This man... It shouldn’t have been possible to hide everything about a person.

  So he’s at least tier 5, and he has skills to block information.

  Shadow tried not to let any of his inner turmoil show on his face as he neared his newest challenge. He walked calmly forward, all the while considering further modifications he could make to his skill to bypass the question mark. He picked the one that seemed the most promising and began to implement it.

  As soon as Shadow was close enough to hear without being overheard, the man started speaking. His voice was as smooth as freshly spun silk. It was nearly melodic, and Shadow had to prick a finger with his [Focus Ring] to not be pulled into its charm.

  “I was originally hoping you would approach of your own volition,” the man said, “but had I known you wouldn't even drink the shot...”

  Shadow scoffed, hiding his displeasure at the man seeing through the old tactic. “I didn't know what was in it.” He quickly used the moment before the man replied to slightly change how [Identify] requested information, hoping that might work.

  [ ? ]

  “A very expensive bourbon, and nothing else. Maybe you'll enjoy it later.”

  Not likely, but it's impressive he noticed me storing it.

  Another tweak, this time to the skill’s point of entry.

  [ ? ]

  The man indicated the empty barstool beside him, and Shadow, slowly, cautiously, sat. Only then did the man turn to fully face him. His smile was perhaps the fiercest weapon Shadow had seen in years.

  “I'm not giving it back,” the enigma said.

  For the briefest moment, Shadow’s eyes reflexively narrowed. He decided to feign ignorance, which actually gave him an idea of how to alter [Identify] so it might not need to make a request. “What are you talking about?”

  [ ? ]

  “Shadow, let's not. I know you all too well. Of what you are and are not capable... What you have and have yet to accomplish.” He tapped the bar twice, and the bartender immediately noticed. “Watch him pour, if you wish,” the mystery man whispered.

  Shadow did, but only with one of his clones.

  ”You know me?” he asked, readjusting his cloak just enough to reveal a few of the daggers waiting beneath. Their whispering seemed a touch uncertain too. “So you know I’m gonna need it back.”

  The man's smile didn't wane in the slightest. Instead, he revealed the inside of his coat with a slight shifting towards Shadow: not a single visible weapon. “All the same, I cannot let you have it.”

  Shadow finished another round of his modifications and pivoted on his stool. “If you keep it, you’re going to attract an awful lot of unwanted attention... from the Sovereign.”

  This time, when he used [Identify] the response was not instant. Instead, a small progress bar appeared in his display, slowly filling, not unlike how [Insight] worked during a fight. Just vastly faster.

  “Oh?”

  Shadow nodded. “And if my suspicions are right, he won't be the last god angered by this.”

  “Wow. That sounds,” the man paused to lean in, “exciting.” He finished. “I can handle myself. Also, since it looks like you'll get it this time, I'm George. Congratulations, by the way.”

  Shadow only wondered about what the man meant for half a second before his interface pinged.

  Skill upgraded: [Identify]

  [Identify] An active ability that lets the user evaluate creatures, people, and items with the utmost certainty; includes rarities, affixes, properties, levels, and Classes. Trades speed for the ability to bypass blocks and penetrate deeper.

  You have gained the Pinnacle Skill Shaper Achievement!

  You have gained the title: {Pinnacle Skill Shaper}.

  Accompanying that was the final display from his new-upgraded skill. A skill that was, according to his newest title and achievement, literally the most-upgraded version of itself in the entire realm.

  [George, ?, level ? [T?], ?]

  {{ ? }}

  Yet even at this new threshold, his [Identify] still only showed the mystery man’s name--Except he provided that name, so I might not even have earned that--and that he had a title. Not what it was. How is that even possible? How do you hide a title? What kind of title would people want--or be able to--hide?

  All he had were more questions.

  “I know you aren't satisfied, but perhaps leave off the prodding for now, eh?” The man asked, downing his new shot and chuckling. “Why do you care so much about the Sovereign’s attention anyway?”

  Shadow was admittedly embarrassed. He shouldn't have kept digging, especially after the first blank. It was no surprise this man could sense his attempts. All five of them.

  That, combined with his question (the thought of attracting any god’s attention), caused Shadow to shudder.

  “I'd rather not have one of the most arrogant beings in the realm noticing me. I've never found anything good to come from messing with the divines.”

  “And yet you took the device. What was your play? Earning a favor, or an Oath?” When Shadow didn't answer quickly, he added, “No matter. You'll no doubt hear that their plot succeeded even without the detonator.”

  A sense of dread pushed the breath from Shadow’s lungs. “And the realm will surely suffer for it.” He didn't know exactly what Brightside had planned, but the way he’d spoken of it, combined with all Shadow had learned of the man and his associates since... And that was before considering that anything in that god's vault was capable of running roughshod through the realm.

  Stacking the empty shot glasses in a surprisingly stable tower, the man called George chuckled. “You think you’re actually working to save the realm. You’re quite amusing for a tier 4. Such lofty goals.”

  Shadow tightened his jaw as his belief was confirmed: ‘for a tier 4.’ So what tier are you, friend? He dismissed that unanswerable question for now.

  “Yeah, well, there aren’t that many people above me that do what needs to be done,” Shadow replied, knowing the dig wouldn't go unnoticed.

  “With that I can definitely agree.”

  For a few moments, the pair sat quietly. Then the mysterious George tapped the bar twice again.

  “What would you change first, since you seem to have a realm to save?”

  Shadow let out a single chuckle. “If I had the power to do it?”

  “Power, or drive? Which one is truly holding you back?”

  “Not drive,” Shadow replied honestly. I have more of that than... almost anyone. He had a momentary flashback to a young boy holding a huge sword, refusing to stand down.

  As for the other question, he knew exactly what he'd do. “If I had the power, I would tighten the slack in the higher tiers.”

  The smile on George's face shifted in a way that made Shadow wonder if he was finally seeing the man's true feelings. There was a magical glimmer in the man's eyes.

  “I think I know what you mean. How would you feel if there were a few less gods?”