Kanin Fyre: Chapter 28 - Guardians

 I watch with trepidation as Zyneth and Mirzayael draw their weapons. I don’t think either of them will actually kill each other, but I do worry one or both will end up hurt. I’m not exactly sure what kind of beef has developed between them, except that each clearly wants to prove they’re more competent than the other. 

“It’s protectiveness,” Fyre says, hearing my thoughts. “They both see each other as our guardians.” There’s a hint of amusement in her tone.

 “So, pride.” I mean, sure, I needed protecting in the past when I was hardly more than a little glass bottle, but I’m pretty sure I can hold my own now. That said, I’m pretty sure I’d be doing the exact same thing in his shoes. And hey, if he needs this to blow off some steam, why not?

“I guess this is as good of a distraction as we’ll get,” I say.

“Indeed,” Fyre agrees. “And given Shirasil’s visit, we have much to discuss.”

“At you’re ready,” Mirzayael calls. 

Zyneth has a blade in each hand. He flexes his wrists. “Ready.”

Mirzayael tenses, spear raised. “Begin!”

 The two clash in a blur of color and screech of metal. They exchange blows so quickly it’s hard for me to keep up. A burst of electricity crackles between them, and Mirzayael disengages, using her spear to secure distance. The tip of her weapon glows light blue, and when she strikes again, it's Zyneth who backs off.

“I’m hesitant to accept Shirasil’s offer,” Fyre says. “Learning that only you and I will be able to pass into the Heavens complicates things. I know Mirzayael is worried now that she can’t accompany me.”

Zyneth flattens to the ground as Mirzayael charges him, and he strikes up at her abdomen with a bout of flames. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure Zyneth feels the same.”

“But it’s more than that,” Fyre says. Guilt stains her conscience. “Ollie’s Role is tied to me. His Sanity stat decreases when I’m in danger. Putting myself in such a position risks hurting the child, too.”

Damn, well that does complicate things. What a shitty role. Then again, my Role was also tied to another person. Too bad they can't work around Ollie’s the same way I was able to work around mine.

“If you have to stay out of this, then I get it.” I’d rather have her help, but I get it. “But I can’t give up yet. I already knew this would be incredibly risky going in, so what he said doesn’t change any of that for me.” If anything, knowing I might be able to get Anika out of there has only fueled my determination. “I was hoping you’d still be willing to help with my spell circle, at least.”

Mirzayael stabs at Zyneth with both her spear and her front legs, and Zyneth deflects each blow with one of his knives. He’s circling around the ring, retreating, but not allowing her to corner him. Despite the fact that he has a few levels on her, he looks tiny in comparison, and I wonder if he’s holding any of his attacks back for fear of causing serious damage. Electricity and knives are difficult to spar with when your opponent isn’t made of inorganic material that can heal itself.

Fyre examines me, radiating perplexed curiosity. “Why do you still need your spell circle? Shirasil was going to provide a way to access the Heavens.”

I laugh. “I mean, come on. Do you trust him?”

Fyre chuckles. “I see your point. But how do you intend to open a bridge for yourself? You’d need…”

She must have caught something in my thoughts, as I can feel her surprise.

I grin, nudging her mind toward my coat pocket. I can feel her hand shift across my jacket until she pauses with surprise. “I can’t imagine anything being more useful to point me toward a god than an object he created himself.”

“The hairpin,” Fyre says. “I didn’t even notice that you’d grabbed it.”

Hopefully Shirasil didn’t either. “He said he’d contact us after he removed Anika’s soul from Yedzaquib. At that point I should be able to sneak in and recover her myself, thanks to the map he gave us. And try to break some Travelers out, while I’m at it.”

“Risky.” Fyre sounds uncertain. “But I am also suspicious of Shirasil’s offer; he may truly want to help us, but I’m not sure I’d bet my life on it. Depending on what his end goal is, I don’t doubt he’d be willing to turn any one of us over if it furthered his plans.”

That was the same impression I’d got. I don’t want to antagonize him, but I’d also rather not be at his mercy. If I make the spell circle, I can control if and when it closes—and not risk getting locked in the Heavens if Shirasil changes his mind.

Mirzayael catches one of Zyneth’s arms on a line of silk, and he immediately expels a burst of lightning; the electricity bolts across the silk like an electrical wire, and zaps Mirzayael with enough force to cause her to stumble back with a surprised grunt. Zyneth switches to flames, burning the spider silk from his arm.

Fyre watches this with a small swell of concern, and I try to keep my satisfaction to myself.

“So what sort of help do you need from me?” Fyre wonders, eyes still on the sparring match.

“Somewhere I can make the spell circle in secret,” I say. “I should be able to sneak out and work on it when Aquenno is sleeping, but you’d know where the best place for that would be more than I.”

“I can arrange that,” Fyre agrees. “And while I’m not sure I’d be the best to help you with this spell circle design of yours, I’m sure Dizzi would jump at the opportunity to help. She can be trusted to be discrete.”

Great. “Then my second ask is if you’re still willing to house any Travelers I’m able to free. You might not be involved with breaking them out, but you’d still be protecting them, and I might be leading the gods right to you.” I grimace. “If you say no, I’ll understand.” It will make my life a whole hell of a lot more difficult—where on Earth am I supposed to hide a bunch of people the gods could recognize on sight?—but I wouldn’t hold it against her. I’m asking to endanger her whole kingdom for me.

“I understand the risks,” Fyre says, catching my last thoughts. “I understood that when we decided to take Sandro in, and when we first agreed to help you. I may not be a warrior, but Fyreneth designed this city to be a safe haven for anyone who sought it out, and I intend to protect its inhabitants and her vision to the best of my ability. After all, we have a few tricks of our own up our sleeves to deal with the gods.”

I’m dying to know what that entails. “Mind filling me in?”

Mirzayael has now produced a handful of small spider-shaped constructs, which unnervingly remind me of the ones Yedzaquib had made. While his were large and made of stone, however, these seem to be small and silk. Zyneth keeps a wary distance. I Check them, and realize they’re messenger spiders; they’re not for attacking, so the move must be a bluff. Zyneth throws a flaming knife at one of them, pinning it to the ground as it bursts into ashes, and seems to come to the same conclusion. Mirzayael goes on the offensive again, causing Zyneth to back away.

Fyre hesitates. “I’m not sure if telling you about our defenses would be wise. If your mission fails, and you’re captured, it’s likely the gods will be able to learn everything you know. I’m willing to let slip that we have a way to deal with them, but sharing the specifics could provide opportunities for them to exploit.”

Getting captured and having my mind read by the gods is a delightful outcome I hadn’t previously considered. Hopefully it won’t come to that, but I don’t blame Fyre for being cautious. She has more than herself to worry about.

It looks like I’ll being going on this mission on my own. Not ideal, and I might have to consider the possibility of abandoning the imprisoned Travelers if breaking them out is too much to manage by myself, but I can’t afford to wait too long in the hopes of finding another way. Blair found me two months ago, and Shirasil found me yesterday. It’s lucky that both of them seem to be (mostly) on my side. But that means it’s only a matter of time before some other god stumbles upon me, and there’s no guarantee they’ll be as friendly. At that point, I’ll have lost the only advantage I currently have: my anonymity.

I have to take advantage of this while I still have it. Time is running out, and I don’t even know how much time is on the clock.

“Thank you,” I say to Fyre. “I really appreciate all your help.”

Fyre’s mind is tinged with shame. “I don’t feel like I am offering very much. Believe me, if Ollie weren’t at risk, I would join you in a heartbeat.”

“Fyre, you’re sticking your neck out for me,” I say. “You’re willing to let me use your city to power a spell circle that’s going to open a gate directly to the Heavens so I can jailbreak a bunch of people from Earth, making your city a target in the process. You’re already offering more than I ever should have asked for.”

Fyre doesn’t seem convinced, but I can feel a swell of affection from her as she glances my way with a smile.

As Zyneth circles toward the opposite side of the sparring ring, Mirzayael crouches down, still keeping her eyes on him, and yanks his thrown blade from the ground. She probably wants to keep it away from him so he has one less weapon to deal with. Only, I know something about his twin daggers she doesn’t.

Zyneth grins, and electricity bursts from his blade. It vanishes a second later, because the element is funneled through from one blade to the other; lightning explodes from the knife clutched tightly in Mirzayael’s grip.

Her body tenses up from the shock, then her legs give out and she collapses to the ground. Zyneth is there in an instant, one foot planted atop her spear to keep it pinned to the ground. He lowers his other blade to her neck.

“Good match.”

Mirzayael blinks, and Zyneth quickly pulls his knife away as she shakes her head, slightly dazed. Once she seems to have regained awareness of her surroundings, she scowls at Zyneth, pushing herself to her feet and dusting herself off.

“You left your blade behind to be taken on purpose,” she grumbles.

Zyneth retrieves the knife Mirzayael had dropped, and sheaths both of them. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to try, since you were underestimating me the whole fight.”

Mirzayael’s eyes narrow, then she huffs out a laugh. “I won’t make that mistake next time.”

“Oh,” Fyre thinks. “It seems she’s come around on him.”

I give a skeptical laugh. “That’s how she shows she likes someone?”

Fyre’s amusement bubbles through my mind. “She’s a tough nut to crack.”

Zyneth heads back over to me, and I feel Fyre’s hand slip away from my vial.

[Psionic Touch ended.]

Zyneth’s eyes dance with amusement as he looks me over. I don’t need telepathy to know Zyneth is feeling extremely smug right now. “You haven’t finished reworking your body yet?”

“Give me a break,” I say, getting back to disassembling all the octopus limbs Ink had added. It’s a bit sad to see them go. “I was distracted.” Though, more by the conversation with Fyre than Zyneth’s match.

Fyre wanders back over to hold out my jacket, and my core that’s still obscured within it. “Well done, Zyneth,” she says as I pick myself up, mostly humanoid again. “Not many can get the best of Mirzayael like that.”

Mirzayael is clearly within earshot but pretends not to notice as she turns away to speak with one of her guards.

“I’m sure it will go differently if we spar again,” he says graciously. Hah, yeah right, Zyneth, I know you want to beat her a second time.

Fyre just pats his arm with a knowing smile before returning to her partner’s side.

I pull my jacket back on, slipping my core inside my chest as well. Aquenno is still watching Zyneth with a curious look, so I think I managed to pull one over on him.

Maybe it’s not the best move to be subverting the very gods and their champions who are sympathetic to our cause. I know I should be trying to turn them into stronger allies rather than do anything that would encourage them to turn on me.

But Blair and Shirasil have demonstrated just how different their priorities can be. When they plan on the scale of millennia, I’m not sure I can trust them to keep my best interest at heart.

I’ll trust them whenever I think it’s safe to, and help them so long as it won’t hurt myself or other Travelers. But I won’t put my life in their hands—especially now that there are those close enough to me that could become collateral.

I glance at Aquenno, touching the celestial hairpin in my pocket. I guess this is why they say ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’

And I plan to.