Chương 283: Daylight Kidnapping

Gonna be a busy week. I need to kill Ervhsez Lydpel, who has tried to hire expensive assassins to kill me and tried to put those assassins on layaway. I have some last-minute check-ins with Pynut the smuggler and his people to make sure everything's ready for a smooth transition of power. And this weekend I finally kill Yheta Snairlin, after almost an entire year of delays. And I'm going to help Septimus Ebonder kidnap Belisa Roadaway so we can drag Duke Meadwhite into an ambush.

I have so many people to kill, but Thumper thinks I am very nice. And she doesn't even seem to think that's a conflict. She's wonderful but she's baffling. Funny thing is I can go entire months with nothing significant and then I have things like this all pile up at once. It feels like a mean-spirited coincidence, like the fates just deciding to see how much I can take. But I know the real issue is that my various enemies, such as my brother, wait until I'm distracted or pressured before they make their moves.

It's not coincidence. It's malice. So my Oneday morning starts with a comfortable dress, my hair in a low braid with loose wings to frame my face. I start gearing up, overpreparing, grabbing all the magic items that could possibly make a difference if things go awry. The trapsetter boots that everyone said looked ugly, the Signet of the Seer, the Scryer's Gyre, the Brac- hang on. I held the Bracers of Skill out at arm's length. My reticle wouldn't settle on them. I glanced over at the other things set out.

The status window immediately pulled up the names and descriptions for the Red Pawn, the Lemniscate Rope, but when I aimed at the bracers there was no reaction. As if they were entirely mundane. Just a pair of forearm guards, undecorated leather, rather worn, with brass grommets and leather laces. This didn't make any sense. Did they wear out? Pass their expiration date? Did I accidentally use them up in the lich dungeon? I didn't have any answers for this, so I just packed them away to investigate later.

For breakfast I went for something hearty to keep my energy up, a hash made with cereal grains, roasted tomatoes, artichoke hearts, dried basil and crushed nuts, with a pear on the side. The pear was juicy but still had that dry taste that some of them do. My first few classes I was absolutely on pins and needles. During homeroom I glared at Nathan and lowered the temperature just enough to let everyone know that he's getting a warning.

I chatted with Quarl and worked out strategy regarding the matter of ambitious adversaries that want to kill me to take control of the revolt. He gave me useful pointers, but only in such a way that we were not actually discussing violence or crime. In math class I had Kurumi check my work on the six-month projections for the railroad project. I really like the way her head whipped up and the aggrieved disbelief on her face when she demanded " per month?!", that was kind of fun.

My science class, I moved around and tried to be more laid-back, more approachable for the other students there. Still learning how to say "I don't know" without it feeling like admitting to a failure. Through my history period, I worked strategy with Rabert, through a layer of euphemisms and hypothetical situations. He's good at helping me fill in the gaps between Lady Hanje's advice and what I can figure out on my own. And then I walked into my geography class.

I was prepped, I had spent the last few nights practicing for this. This was my last chance for a while to boost the power of that grasping, greedy tether. I sat down next to Belisa, put up a privacy wall, started my coin spinning, and took her hand. She was definitely more responsive, her hand turning towards mine more eagerly. And at the first touch, I flooded into her- wafting, billowing clouds of soul that funneled up her arm and siphoned through her core.

I held one end tight to myself, gripping down on my own body as my legs and my other arm both fell asleep. I let the essence expand and decompress, split between the two of us, easing open to fill both bodies. Mine more than hers. Particularly, I made sure to sift into her legs, where the tether was centered. I could feel it as a blockage in her body, a stone in the stream. I could not see it, but its edges were apparent because it did not accept me, did not absorb me.

A nodule lodged in the back of her knee that was made of some alien material that I could not seep into. I got settled in, and then pulled away, almost leaving her shell entirely. And then I flooded back through her. On the one hand it felt a little bit like I was doing pull-ups with my soul. But that's not really the best analogy, only the first one that sprang to mind. What I'm really doing is tug-of-war with a force that is, if not sapient, then at least reactive enough to simulate having wishes of its own.

Not the first time I've seen that happen in magic. Perhaps like an animal. A dog or something, that gets one end of a rope and pulls against resistance. Whatever is on the other end of that tether has wants, and I'm teaching it to grab and pull. I give it what it wants and then yank it back, and then again. Each time, it pulls more eagerly and lets go more reluctantly. There have been times that I actively practiced moving my essence in and out of my own body.

When I first became aware of my untethered nights, and again when I went to prison, I would rehearse the movement get faster and more reliable with it. This is similar to the exercise I'm practicing now. Holding to one body, moving against resistance, anchoring myself, controlling my boundaries. I've put a lot of practice and training into this, and I've got a long head-start, but the tether I'm pulling against is learning fast, each time that I let it take hold of me and then pull away again it gets stronger.

That's the point. Right now, she is a potential vessel for a soul. I want that potential to get hungry. Insistent, even. I want the shell of Belisa Roadaway to demand a proper soul, to rage for it, and to grab for it at any cost. I want that grip on the tether to get so strong that the lich that bound himself to this spell cannot resist its demands. And to be fair we're already most of the way there. I've spent weeks training her shell and her tether to grasp at untethered essences.

It's come a long way, and I'm going to try putting it over the top. If this doesn't work, the Ebonder necromancers have some things they can try. We're hoping it doesn't come to that. If my method works, it actively increases the chances that Belisa survives the experience. If we use their methods- well, I did ask, and what I was told was "no promises". Stolen story; please report.

So this means that the only option I really have is to try really hard and hope that it works because the marquis is definitely not going to allow any more delays than we have already had. Either we're good and this works, or we have to do it the hard way. So I have a lot of incentive to make this work. Again, the risks and temptations. I don't know what will happen if the tether overpowers me and rips me entirely out of my own body. Nothing good. Natalie Harigold will probably die immediately.

The thing I hate about necromancy is that every time you touch it, it seems like there is a direct temptation to take risks, and a hard consequence for those risks, and a distinct lack of information that would mitigate those risks. So I tease out the monster, make it stronger, more aggressive, more well-trained, more well-practiced in capturing souls. I taunt it into reacting faster and relenting slower. Until I start to feel like I am about to put myself in danger. It really does not take very long.

Each iteration is more difficult, and finally I quit. It has only been a half-hour, but I am exhausted, in the way that only a soul itself can be exhausted. The last time, I can tell I am done. I can tell that I should not allow even one more. It takes so long to reel myself in, to anchor my essence back into its own shell, brace for traction and try again, forcing my volume back out of her shell. I feel scraped, abraded where I never should feel anything at all.

The last fumes of my soul finally slip free of that ravenous grip, and I bundle back into myself, pinning the shapes together. And then I went ahead and dismissed the sound-muffling barrier and just tried to sit, and relax, and let the teacher's voice tune me out. I needed to relax, to rest up, to ignore the clawing desperation that filled her now. The nearly magnetic draw, her shell's determination to get me, to take me out of myself, to heal herself with my life.

She twitched, her hand moving towards me, and I gently turned it aside with a grip of hardened wind, putting her hand back on her desk. She still shambled, but she has a new determination now. She has more initiative, the tether has a goal, it has needs, it has enough strength to move itself that it never had before. And hopefully, Meadwhite is feeling it too. I want it to rip him apart. And the grip that I just escaped from might be strong enough to do it.

He's been a lich for a long time, but I only had to survive it for a half-hour. Once I pull free, I'm free. He on the other hand has linked himself to Belisa, specifically in a way so she can house his soul. He marked her as a dedicated destination, but I've taught her to find what she wants and drag it in. I appreciate the irony of turning my opponents' weapons against them. But it's nothing compared to turning my opponents' defenses against them. A lich's own personal escape hatch turned into a trap.

With a gesture, I opened the door to the classroom. That's the signal. The teacher turned as the door swung open, mid-lesson, and stopped cold as four imposing-looking people walked through the open door. All of them tall, strong-looking, and icy in their demeanor. They walked in like they owned the place, and looked across the room like they were sorting us into "kill" and "don't kill" boxes, and it was a very quick look.

They wore black leather, high collars, long coats, and their clothes had the movement of concealed armor. They looked like trouble. Three of them were women, the third one in was a man, and I don't think that was any real distinction for them. They all looked like they had stabbed someone to death before their fifteenth birthday, and might have done it again this morning.

Their hard looks and unsympathetic faces and generally sinister fashions were intimidating, but not as much as the small items of jewelry that glowed with inner lights, and the various weapons they held that were lit with radiant runes etched into them. Four well-equipped mana warriors looking for trouble is a bad sign anywhere. And having something like that stroll through the door, in a place as prosaic and safe as a geography classroom? The room froze in shock.

Everywhere, bulging wide eyes and dropped jaws, people frozen in place at the sharp edge of panic. If four tigers had walked in here, the reaction would be less pronounced. They did not say anything. Speaking would break the moment, it would put people's brains into gear to compose thoughts instead of to stare in abject shock. They walked down the aisle, and stopped right next to me. I stood while two of them picked up Belisa from her chair.

One of the women and the man stood on either side of her, with one hand lifting from the armpit and the other on her elbow. It looked efficient, and less uncomfortable than I would have expected. I took up my bookbag, and opened the portal. All five of us walked in, with one more carried. The door closed behind us and opened before us, and we stepped out onto the street. I took a long step to the side and tried not to be obvious about it, the marquis's task force made me nervous.

They did not say anything or move towards me, but I had no confidence that air shields or steel essence would protect me if one of them had orders I did not know about. My trust is a precious and rare commodity. The street where we emerged was just down the street from the diner I'd spent Sixthday in, a nice enough district and quiet this time of day. The light rippled over the stone paving-stones like there were clouds moving in front of the sun.

The buildings were that canted-roof style that surrounded the royal complex, whitewashed stone that would last ages in this low-weather environment. A carriage stood before us, exactly in the right spot and right on time, with no horse and no driver. Magical conveyance, self-contained, pre-programmed. It looked nearly exactly like the magic carriage that had tried to kidnap my whole family back when my father first refused the royal order that started the trade war and led to the Berry Blight.

And I suppose that it stands to reason, the damn things really are a perfect mechanism for kidnapping. I stepped well clear while the warriors loaded Belisa up into the carriage and put her on one of the bench seats. One of the women swung up onto the standing board at the back of the carriage in footman's position. Seconds later it rolled to a start, picking up speed, heading to where the Marquis had his secret anti-lich prison. I had asked, and I had gotten told that I don't have the need-to-know.

All three of the others started walking in different directions. They never did say a single word the whole time. It had been, at most, three minutes since i had opened the door for them. Funny how the most impactful events happen so very quickly, done and gone before you really even feel it. And, my commendations to the Marquis, the man knows how to execute an operation with clockwork precision. This is how all of my plans should be working. I need to study his methods.

But for now I need to wait for Meadwhite to walk into an ambush and get destroyed by the Ebonder necromancers once and for all, or for him to enter her body so we can release the tether and destroy him once and for all. Not really much of a choice at all. One of the very last links in the chain that ruined my childhood, all but taken care of. Once he's done, there's nothing left but Kralcit and the royals.