Twilight in Heaven: Chapter 14

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Chapter 14

I’d conspired with Koru, King of Rats, to assassinate Mallens, Lord of Creation, King of the Titans. We had not succeeded.

My job was handling logistics. I’d carried the bribes, distributed the weapons, and moved the paper. I’d volunteered for the kill-team, hadn’t been taken, and now the kill-team had been killed. I was the only link between Koru and the other high conspirators and the assassins, and my metaphorical fingerprints were all over everything. Right now, I worried that the weapons the killers had used, copies of Death’s scepter All Things Ending, could lead back to me. Hasso, the forger, had put a maker’s mark on them, and he would definitely tell anyone who asked that everything was my fault.

Most of the weapons had been destroyed, but some Celestials had found one. When I’d tried to buy it, one of the Celestials, Osret, had betrayed us. He killed his two friends and shot me. I should have died but didn’t. Now he had the secret I needed.

Leving Dr Lammet’s underground home, I found a new day overcast and gray. A short walk took me to a safehouse I’d set up less than a week ago for the kill team. With them dead, no one else knew it existed. A water tower rose among tall, blank buildings with yellow and gray walls of sandstone, behind cover of pines. The tower hadn’t been used in years. I climbed the ladder one-handed, jimmied open the trick door, and rolled into a round room with a flat floor. It had blankets, a sleeping pad, and a few sealed water jugs. By the look of it, no one had been here since I had.

I dropped my bag and did the honeydew vials like shooters. Then I poured a little water into each one, drank that, and finally sucked the empty glass jars like a pacifier. Medicine always comes in useless packaging that ruins half the stuff. Then I lay down and slept like the dead for five or six hours. Inside the water tower was a black hole, and I’d feel it shake if anyone climbed the ladder.

When I woke up, I ate another package of ambrosia and checked my arm. It moved sufficiently if not well, but the brace impaired my mobility. I took it off and stashed it in the gym bag. I’d put it on when I returned. The ambrosia gone, I went looking for more.

Before the hit, I’d hidden four packages of payoff money for the assassins, and they weren’t going to need them anymore. Each package had money, ambrosia, some fake documents, and a small weapon or good luck charm. One had been lost, Osret had taken the money from two, and I moved through Hyperion, capital city of Heaven, toward the last.

Clouds lay low and heavy in the sky. They were big, round-bellied clouds that promised rain but withheld it, and on top Mt Attarkus a spiraling storm of darker shades roiled with lightning. Sometimes lightning bolts crackled down to the lower skies, but it rarely struck the ground. Instead it crawled across the hanging bellies like disjoint-legged spiders.

The sun must be up but showed no sign. Light came from lanterns and house lights. Someone had turned off the street lights. Ion’s palace, usually a monstrosity of unnecessary lamps and bonfires, looked tame with a few bright windows and one small lantern shining over the front door. But its windows had lace curtains drawn, and the door lamp vanes had been turned down.

It took me a couple hours to go less than three miles across empty streets because I kept getting lost. Ultimately I fell into my destination. I had crossed a small footbridge over a storm runoff where lamplight didn’t go, feeling wet ground for a small path, when I stepped wrong, fell through cattails to the muddy creek bed, and chose to break my fall with my head instead of my bad arm. I finally saw stars under the cloudy sky. After a bit I got up and started poking around.

This was one of my better stash spots. An abandoned garden filled blocked drainage ditch. The garden’s walls were worked stone under a worked bridge, so the dryads wouldn’t tend it. However it was in a storm drain, so the Celestials thought it beneath them. Tall grass hadn’t been cut in years, cattails clogged the waterway, and privacy hedges hid the unsightly area from the neighboring palaces. I’d hidden the last package behind a stone in the garden wall.

Now, the rock lay in the middle of the drainage ditch. The stash space lay empty. I felt a worm. He didn’t say anything. I decided to call him Alphonse.

Okay but seriously, now my sickness had gone terminal.

Someone had come here, pulled the stone out, and taken the box.

That someone might have seen me hide it. Once I’d gone, they’d investigated, found one hundred and twenty five thousand sesteres free for the taking, and took it. Possible.

Agents of Mallens could have taken it. They could know everything I’ve been doing all along. They could be telling Mallens about me right now, and all my plans were too late.

They could be watching me right now.

It could be… self, what did it matter?

The package wasn’t here.

I went south to the house of the cousins Hemlin.

#

Their townhouse rose on two stubby legs with a corridor or tunnel between them. They’d shut and locked a gate across the tunnel. Around back, it had a courtyard with a little garden and some sheds, and abutted an alley. A tall fence enclosed the property, with a locked carriage gate, but they hadn’t taken their trash in. I eased up onto a closed trashcan and tested my arm. It hurt but worked.

I pulled my head over the rear fence. The courtyard was empty, the house lit, and privacy curtains pulled over the windows. I saw moving figures in the first floor.

I rolled over the fence and stole across the courtyard. Their main door lead to a tiny foyer in one of the legs, and up a steep flight of stairs to the second floor. The exterior door was a glass oval, but the interior door at the top of the stairs was an ironwood portal. That was their main level with the kitchen, dining room, and open area. I hadn’t gone upstairs, but had seen them go upstairs to change their clothes.

I poked around the backyard, found a building stone I could lift with both hands, and threw it through the glass door. Stained glass shattered and fell. I dashed through, took the stairs in two steps, and spoke Prothadeus Raln.

Prothadeus Raln changed qualities to quantities. They had locked the door. They hadn’t locked it enough. I hit the door with my foot, it shattered like the stained glass, and I entered the living room.

Apseto had been behind the door. He was falling over a couch now. Nurim ducked around the kitchen counter with cooking knives in either hand, and as I came in, he started slinging. I dove and rolled, cleavers thudding into the walls.

Osret had frozen in a main room, standing by the dinner table near Nurim. I charged him. He turned for the stairs and ran.

Nurim grabbed more knives, smaller ones they’d probably never used. I threw a chair at him, he threw knives at the chair, and the razor-sharp blades chunked through it. The seat-cushion caught their handles, and the chair hit him. He threw it down, but I threw a flying knee into him. He hit the cupboard, his rear-end burst through the doors, and I left him there with soup pouring down his legs.

Osret’s footsteps thudded up the stairs. I grabbed an eight-inch carving fork and raced up the stairs after him.

Twilight in Heaven: Chapter 11

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Chapter 11

How expensive was their house?

It was a nice house. They had space. The couches didn’t butt up against the walls. They had artistically arranged chairs. Glass lamps rose over the softer chairs for reading, and bookshelves stood between the windows.

I read a few titles with big print: The History of Modern Airship Racing, Paint the Sky: The Gods of Dawn, and Lumina and Beauty.

I bet the cousins hadn’t read any of them but thought they impressed ladies.

The Hemlin cousins returned. Nurim had brought a plate with him, moshu fruit and a cracker, and he finally sat down. I mentally gave him two minutes before he got up.

“We have a counter offer,” said Aesthus. He paused. The rest of them watched me.

I waved him on.

“Five hundred thousand, but we’ll kick you back a hundred thousand.”

I opened my mouth, closed it, and exhaled the breath I’d taken to reply.

“You’re not paying us,” said Aesthus. He wore a hint of a smirk. “Your customer is. I won’t give you a receipt, but you can tell them the price was half a ton.”

I said, “Now that’s very interesting.”

They were a lot smarter than I had given them credit for.

The mere fact I was snow-jobbing them something fierce didn’t diminish that. In fact, it meant they might be able to see through my plans if I gave them time. I had too many lies. The structure of them was flimsy. These cousins would start pushing, testing, and if they pushed too hard on anything, the whole structure would come falling down.

I had a moment. Call it clarity, caution, or cowardice, I suddenly understood that while I was winning right now, I could lose very quickly.

“Three hundred, same kickback,” I said.

“No,” blurted Apseto.

Aesthus shook his head. “No. We need more than that.” He spoke as if Apseto hadn’t.

Apseto nodded.

That wasn’t a counter-offer, but I’d done the same thing when Zenjin had asked ten million.

I was winning. Take the saber and run, self.

What number were they thinking of?

I’d gone forty two thousand for no particular reason. They probably wanted at least forty two each. That meant two ten. No self respecting grifter would lower his own bribe, so I had to add one twenty five. Round up.

I said, “Three fifty, but mine is one twenty five.”

This time Apesto didn’t speak. Neither did any of the rest. They looked to Aesthus, who watched me like a card player.

I looked away, ate something, but when I finished, Aesthus was still thinking. I locked eyes with him and waited. It became a challenge. He wouldn’t look away, nor would I, and I didn’t know what out he was looking for. After several seconds, his pride wouldn’t let him blink.

I’d made this mistake before. I’d gotten into a contest with someone, a contest I didn’t need to win, but the strain of it grew weighty in my mind. A throw-away fight became a matter of pride. I locked eyes with the Celestial, born of the line of Tollos, sister of Mallens, Lord of Creation, and tested him. He didn’t look away; he invested in our challenge.

His cousins did not interrupt.

But he had to win.

“Three seventy five,” he said. He flicked his fingers between us. “Same, same.”

I looked away.

Nurim was eating moshu. Moshu are soft little fruit with a shell like a walnut. The fruit inside has about the consistency and sweetness of an apple. Normally people open them with a nut cracker, and the skill is breaking the shell without squishing the fruit. People who eat moshu with sticky fingers look childish.

Nurim saw me looking and put down his cracker. He took out a knife. Tapping a fruit against the plate to show me the shell hadn’t gone stale, and without holding it, he sliced the fruit open cleanly with the knife. He didn’t touch it at all, merely drew the blade long-ways across it.

That was, in all honestly, simply astounding knifework. He was doing it to show off, but I was impressed.

“You laughed when I said there were five of us,” said Zenjin quietly. “You think you can win. Maybe. But not as easily as you think you will.”

Self, let them win. Get the blade, destroy it, be done.

I made sure there were no misunderstandings. “The price is three hundred and seventy five thousand sesteres, and you will pay me one hundred and twenty five thousand sesteres of that.”

Aesthus nodded. “Agreed.”

I nodded. “Done.”

The room exhaled.

“Do you want to shake on it?” Aesthus asked.

“No.” I shook my head. “But we have a deal. The money is hidden a few places through the city. I’ll need to collect it. Does one of you want to come with me and bring the saber?”

“Yes. Does the blade have a name, other than saber?”

“You don’t need to worry about that. That sword, that one right there, is the one I want.” I pointed at it. “But I want to inspect it. Now.”

They all exchanged glances.

There were five of them, but I’d be holding the weapon. That was a sword for the killing of gods. They didn’t know exactly what it was, but they knew enough.

But I wasn’t going to go any farther and find out that by some unimaginable coincidence, this wasn’t the right weapon.

“Go ahead,” said Aesthus. “Right now.”

All five of them got ready. Zenjin drew the Puritan, laid a finger along the slide, but held it down, pointed at the floor. Nurim stood up with the knife. Osret moved around to the other side, and Apseto shifted so he stood between me and the windows. We’d drawn the blinds when we came in. Aesthus waited by the foyer. He looked ready to run, but for safety or for a gun, I didn’t know.

I got up, moving slowly, and lifted the blade from the table. The room breathed again, inhaling after its previous sigh. This breath it held.

There were five of them, but I had a blade made to kill the Lord of Creation. I could take them.

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Twilight in Heaven: Chapter 10

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Chapter 10

“Hold on, hold on, hold on I appreciate your help down there. I’m Aesthus of Hemlin, of the Line of Tollos. Thank you.” One of the cousins held his hands up, palm out.

He caught me by surprise. And after a moment, I replied, “You’re welcome. Thank you.”

The others looked like they didn’t know what to say, so they said nothing. I couldn’t fault them, but that left all the talking to Aesthus.

He continued. “You said you’re here to acquire the saber?”

I nodded.

“We can–” He paused. “—talk about that.” He paused again to make up his mind over something. “As I said, I’m Aesthus. These are my cousins, Zenjin, Osret, Apseto, and Nurim.”

The cousins looked varyingly wary, curious, or distrustful.

“Let’s temper blades,” said Aesthus. He glanced around.

The cousins had just not-fought each other, so they showed varying levels of willingness to not-fight me. Most looked guarded but listening.

“You too,” Aesthus told me. “You saved me, and I appreciate it. Let’s not waste your effort.”

I felt like arguing, but Aesthus was leaving everyone a way out. Besides, I’d saved their lives, and I’d be throwing that away if I fought them, something that moments ago, I’d been trying to figure out how not to do. This whole situation was making me short tempered.

But now that I was aware of it, I could fix it.

“Thank you. I’m pleased to meet you,” I said and waved specifically to Osret. He didn’t reply with much grace, but he nodded back. “I’m pleased to meet you all.”

“Come,” said Aesthus. “We live nearby. We’d be honored if you joined us.”

And again, I let myself agree.

We left the beach, avoiding the water if we could. In some stretches, there was no alternative, but the nereids did not pursue us while we looked for them.

#

The cousins Hemlin had a small palace that was basically a wide townhouse. Five stories tall with a courtyard out back, its second story overhung a tunnel through the first floor. The tunnel opened into the courtyard where a circle of smaller cobble stones between large slabs of sandstone formed the center of the back yard. Behind rose a small garden that seemed mostly full of strange rocks and small huts. The cousins lead me through an elegant glass door to a tiny foyer, a wide staircase, and on the second floor a large receiving room. They lit a fire from an ember dish, and offered me a stiff drink or a warm towel.

I took both, but the towel first.

Zenjim put the blade on the main table and patted it dry. I sat where I could see it.

“You said you’re prepared to pay for it?” asked Aesthus.

I considered before nodding.

“This is the only one left. It’s rare now, perhaps rarer. That’s got to be worth something.”

Maybe, I thought. There had been two assassin’s parties.

“How do you know?” I said, equally cautiously.

“Mallens didn’t just break the seashore. He broke the earth. There’s a power in him, an energy. When he strikes something, it comes apart, and not merely in breaking. The stuff of it disintegrates. I think he did not truly stamp this sword. Perhaps it was close to his foot but not hit. Maybe it had already been dropped and fell into the pit. But we found nothing else of its like, and we are from the high mountains. Apseto is particularly clever with finding things in stone, even stone under water.”

Apseto didn’t look cocky, but he did look confident.

“What if it’s in sand?” I asked.

“Sand is just a lot of very small stones,” said Apesto.

If that was how it worked for him, so be it.

“I’ll show a few cups,” I said and pointed at the copied sword. “I’m here to get that, and I’m willing to pay for it. My customer is willing to pay in cash, so there is no reason to be concerned about favors or credit. I was at the beach looking for the sword when we met and saved your lived. You owe me. Business is business, but enjoy all that breathing you’re doing. Drowning is a hard way to go.”

“Who’s your customer?” asked Zenjin.

“No,” I said. “That doesn’t need to be discussed.”

The group of them glanced at each other, and a silent conversation of shrugs and facial expressions told me they didn’t feel like arguing the point.

“I’m going to go change my clothes,” said Aesthus. He was dripping. We all were. “I don’t think we have anything that will fit you, but can I lend you some sweats?”

“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

Again Aesthus deflated the tension, but his idea was a good one. I didn’t want to let the saber out of my sight. They wouldn’t leave me alone with it. With some towels and a little consideration, everyone changed and met back up in their living room, arrayed on couches around the chair.

Aesthus wasn’t quite as big as the others and had a slightly softer look. He’d changed into khaki pants and a fitted sweater, leather shoes, and leather belt. My stubble was longer than the hair on his head.

Osret wasn’t quite as tall but wider built, and he wore tight clothing to show off his muscles. None of his shirts had sleeves.

Zenjin was a bigger guy but didn’t have the gym build of Osret. He had a huge back, shoulders, and gut. He wore designer t-shirts and jeans, the sort of sports shoes that get dropped in limited quantities. A silver-handled Puritan nestled under his left arm, set for a cross-body draw. No one else seemed to be carrying a gun, so it certainly was a statement, but fashion or security?

Puritans, from the 22nd Testament of Thorophus the Weapon Maker, were good guns. They were such good guns people collected them, which made them rare, then valuable, and now they were fashion statements themselves. Still, they shot straight and rarely jammed.

Apseto showed up in a suit, and I don’t know a whole lot about suits. His seemed to fit well. He had thunderbolts on his tie pin, thunderbolt cufflinks, and a brown shirt with a white tie that drew attention to his face. They said he could find things in stone, even stone under water. That could be a valuable skill, depending on how good he was, and he wore the suit comfortably. He didn’t pick at it.

Nurim sized up the bunch of us and started making something in the kitchen. He threw chips in a bowl, got everyone a glass of water or beer, and brought out some bread and a few spreads. He was always moving, cleaning plates or putting glasses on coasters. He and Aesthus were slim compared to the others, but they were still big guys. He wore jeans of some unremarkable make, a hooded sweater, a watch he kept checking, and slip-on shoes. He changed the latter twice during our meeting.

I started. “Let’s talk peacefully. I’m not looking for a fight.”

“I don’t see why that’s relevant,” said Zenjin. “You’re mortal. There are five of us. A fight won’t go well for you.”

“He’s hiding his power,” said Aesthus. He looked at me. “I don’t think the fight will go the way you think it will, but since you attacked nereids in water, you’ve got something in reserve. But let’s put that aside. Temper blades. You’re not looking for a fight, we’re not looking for a fight. How much?”

“And when and where and all that,” said Nurim, coming in with snacks. “You’re not carrying any suitcases full of cash.”

“Yeah, also we’re not letting the sword out of our sight,” said Zenjin.

“The hand-over can be arranged.” I tried to wave pleasantly. “One or all of you can follow me to where I have the money.”

“Let’s talk about that,” said Apseto. “How much?”

The sidebars stopped. Nurim in the kitchen stopped puttering. Zenjin leaned forward, elbows on knees. All eyes watched me.

I’d made two payment drops for each of the two groups. The killers had been paid half up front and half for after the job was done.

I’d never known exactly how Koru made his riches. Earlier, I hadn’t cared. Now I cared, but I didn’t know. He had money. Bills, bribes, and charitable donations had all been paid, and I’d paid most of them. I had also hidden small packages of silver coins and ambrosia for the successful assassins.

I’d been such an honest fool. I hadn’t taken a coin or a bite. The money waited for me now.

I said, “Forty two thousand.”

That was a bad lowball. Forty two thousand sesteres was new horse money, maybe even nice new horse, but not a race winner nor a good sire. It would make a downpayment on a home. Someone like me could live easily on forty two thousand a year and scrimp it out three years. All four drops combined had about five hundred thousand.

“That seems a little light,” said Aesthus.

“It’s a magnficient blade,” I said. “It’s also stolen. It was used in the commission of a crime, and people will come looking. Problems will come. You don’t know me. I don’t know you. And the saber will disappear and you can say, with utmost honesty, you have no idea where it is.”

“We know your name,” said Osret. He stuck his chin out at me.

I had to bite back a quick remark. Osret was hot-tempered to begin with. I had things too say but for once, didn’t say them.

“You are correct,” I agreed neutrally. “You know my name, Remus.”

Apseto sighed. He and Osret sat on a couch together, and Apseto leaned over and whispered something to the other.

Osret kept a stoneface for several seconds. “Of course. You are Remus, and when someone comes looking for the saber, I will tell them Remus has it.”

“Please do,” I said.

Mental clockwork shifted everyone else in the room. Nurim glanced at Aesthus, and if I had to guess, I’d say Nurim was recalling Aesthus saying I was hiding my power.

“Ten million,” said Zenjin.

“Nope.” I shook my head and ignored him.

“It’s a rare and stolen sword. The rest are destroyed. Ten million,” he insisted.

“That’s not an offer.”

“I said ten million, and we’ve got it right now.” Zenjin moved forward a little on his chair.

I reached out, took a slice of bread, and examined the sauces. Nurim had laid out butter, olive oil, and something yellow and ganular. I don’t think it was hummus, but I bet it was close enough to rhyme. I scraped invisible butter on the bread and layered over top with the hummus stuff.

I took a bite. My mistake: it was hummus, but they’d mixed ambrosia in here.

Wow.

I wasn’t faking. It tasted like euphoria. My wounds began to close. My scrapes healed. My aching muscles felt salved. Those little wrinkles of tension around my eyes relaxed, and I suddenly noticed a coldness in my side by the way it faded.

I had really lowballed them with that offer.

“This is really good.” I held it up to Nurim. “Sourdough?”

He nodded. “We get it from the artsy place down the street. Girls like it.”

Zenjin said, “What about the–”

And Aesthus interrupted him, “Do you mind if we take a moment?” he asked me.

I waved the bread. “Please do. I’ll be here.”

They looked at me, the saber, and gears clicked behind every pair of eyes. I waited.

The cousins got up and moved into the kitchen, forming a small huddle between the stove and an island of counter.

I tried to look relaxed and dangerous. I tried to look thoughtful. I thought, but I was thinking about ambrosia in hummus.

We had tried to kill the Lord of Creation for a million sesteres. One thousand miles, a ton, two weeks pay for a legion. We’d tried to kill the King of the Gods for a million sesteres. And these fools who had the saber had enough money to put ambrosia in the hummus!

Their house was worth more than a million.

I was in the wrong line of work.

A volcano went off between my ears. I heard nothing but eruptions and thunder. I thought of stale wayhouse sandwiches and of not being able to afford stale wayhouse sandwiches so I stayed hungry until I made it home. I thought of sleeping hungry so I could eat manna in the morning.

They’d laid out a whole spread of artsy bread with ambrosia in the hummus.

These guys could get blisters. I wasn’t going to stop for appearances. I ate all their hummus.

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Twiligh in Heaven: Chapter 9

Previous Chapters

Chapter 9

The day was dark, the sky heavy, and the seas had no waves. Even the winds seemed hushed. What had been a perfect beach of endless sea and beautiful golden sand had become a cacophony of rock, deep pits, and broken shore. Mallens’s wrath had lifted the bedrock. Sand had fallen aside, sandstone jutted up into the air, and basalt plates rose from the lagoons.

I’d heard the five cousins perfectly though they stood about fifty feet away. A little hint of a breeze blew in my direction, so perhaps that helped, and the flat water had no waves to wash out their voices. I was trying to find an alternative to mugging them but nothing came up.

My thinking time ran out when the five of them turned and entered the shallow water between sandbar and shore. They were talking deliberately lightly about how great everything was going to be when they gave Mallens the sword, the one thing I absolutely couldn’t let them to do. That had to be stopped. Violence it must be. I crouched, Nurim walked in front of the rest and said something about Jesephene, before he vanished as if the ground underneath the water sucked him down.

The others screamed, and dark scaled hands grabbed them from below. Like a surge of little plops, the cousins plunged underwater. They struggled. Several propped themselves up on knees and elbows, but their heads were below the shallow surface. It’s said an angry nereid can drown you in a palm’s worth of water, and these had almost a foot to work with.

The cousins struggled. I saw their backs heaving, and the sea nymphs climbing on top of them: a pack of predators focused on their prey.

The heavens parted. Lights appeared. Inspiration sang.

This was a problem I could solve by hitting people!

I screamed Obesis, ran across the water, and they heard me coming. I wanted them to. There were more than a dozen of them, and they paid little attention to one, shouting idiot charging.

They should have noticed I ran on the water, not through it, but they learned.

“Obesis!” I shouted again and threw myself down and forward, skidding across the surface like an ice skater. A nereid rose out of the water to grab me, and I caught her in the face with a deep fist, the low swing you use on a grappler when he’s shooting. That’s a punch that has to hit like a boulder stopping a rhino to be any good at all. Mine sufficed.

Knuckles hit scales. I pushed through. My fist dragged her out of the water and threw her a dozen feet through the air. She landed on sand but hard enough it still splashed.

The impact stopped me. I sank. Water swirled around my feet. I shouted Obesis again, jumped to the surface of the water, landed on the splash, and when nereid hands reached for my ankles, I reached for them. I yanked him fully up into the air by his own wrists, and he gave me that look of shock that came with a hesitation. The utter comprehension of how bad this was about to be made it inevitable.

I spoke Raln, and all things were blades, even my fist.

I punched about half his head off, and all of him dropped.

Surprise gone, they stopped drowning the cousins and turned on me. I beat them down. Blood underwater is black, and nereids soon floated on the surface of the lagoons. The cousins lurched to their feet gasping, and when the sea people hesitated, counting their losses, I started shoving the big, solid cousins toward the sea.

“Out of the water! Run!”

He argued. “We can–”

I interrupted. “You don’t fight nereids in the water! Run!”

He ran. They all ran. The nereids attacked. I put down two but probably not fatally, and turned before the rest. Maybe they didn’t really want to catch me, or maybe I could run across the waves faster than they could swim beneath them, but I made it to the shore safely. The cousins stood there gasping, and the six of us ran uphill.

For a moment the spirits of the sea watched. Then they slipped beneath the waves. The one I’d knocked out of the sea had vanished, leaving beside just marks in the sand, and the forms I’d thought were corpses sank beneath the waves. You’d be amazed what a spirit can live through in their place of power, but I doubted all of them lived.

Whatever. It was over. I stood with the cousins, panting, and trying to get my breath back.

After a minute or two they asked the most reasonable question: “Who in death and darkness are you?”

And of course I lied. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am Remus, and I am a finder of rare, exotic, and stolen weapons. I’m here for the saber.” And I pointed honestly at the sword Nurim carried.

“It’s not a saber. It’s straight!” said Zenjin.

“Yeah,” said Nurim. “Hold on. It says something here.” He peered at the butt of the handle and held it right up to his face. He could barely see through the gloom of the heavy overcast.

I couldn’t remember the handle saying anything, but since I was trying to erase all traces of it, I didn’t want anyone to know if it did.

“It is called a saber because sabers are weapons of the elite. They’re more expensive.”

Five confused, wary people looked at me. The one holding my forgery grabbed it. I think he wanted to look threatening, but all I noticed was he wasn’t inspecting any writing any more.

I continued. “The single curved cutting edge gives some justification for saber. Likewise, the shape makes it slightly point heavy to augment slashing. However the straight back, as noted, would normally bring it into the longsword category. All of this is missing the point. Curved swords are weapons of the elite. Straight swords are cheap. If the maker called it a saber, he could charge double for it. If he called it a longsword, he couldn’t. As such, it’s a saber.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Osret. “You can’t charge more for something just because you call it something it isn’t.”

I laughed at him.

“People who have enough money to buy it would know it isn’t a saber!” he yelled.

“Correct. But that is an extremely expensive weapon, so it’s not going to see a lot of use. It will be worn, not wielded. It can be called anything the owner wants.”

“When you say expensive, how expensive do you mean?” asked Apseto.

“Extremely,” I said. “It’s also extremely stolen, and those two extremelies are about equal. I’m authorized to pay you for it, and I’m authorized to kill you and take it. My customer doesn’t care.”

“Parasite, there’s five of us!” said Zenjin. He looked like he was holding a grudge.

I looked at them and the dark lagoon. “How’s that working out for you?”

I waited until the silence became uncomfortable and then began a slow, mocking clap. No one joined in. I stared him dead in the eyes until he looked away.