We were standing on a residential street. There were people around. I had not registered the man who passed behind me. Why would I? He was as nondescript as could be imagined. If anything could have or should have alerted me, it was just how nondescript he was. The only man I knew who could be so unnoticeable was Zeb. And Zeb was frightening, even to a Griidlord.

The only warning I had was the momentary flash of confusion on the face of the hare-lipped man. A flash of fear. A momentary shudder. Eyes fixed beyond me. I reacted instinctively, dodging to the side.

I dodged to the wrong side, but it still saved my life.

The knife slashed down toward my neck from the right side. I couldn't have guessed which way to move — it was an instantaneous reaction to the fright on my interlocutor's face. I lunged right as well. The knife met the top of my skull, my head pushing the blade off course. The force of the blow was potent. If the tip of the knife had descended squarely on the top of my head, it would have split me open. But the side of my head hit the edge of the knife.

It was far from perfect.

The razor edge of the weapon scored down my face. Skin parted, and flesh peeled away. Pain blossomed in a straight line, tracing the path of the blade. Blood immediately gushed from the side of my face.

I was in sudden, terrible agony. Sudden knowledge of a grievous wound. And sudden, utter confusion. My hand flew to the wound, pressing against the pain, wet blood flowing between my fingers. I could feel the flaps of flesh dangling.

I spun to face my attacker. His blade was already in the air again — fast as a scorpion's tail.

He was dressed in peasant clothes, but the force of the action caused his robes to billow, and I could see armor beneath. High-end armor. Woven of pre-Fall fibers.

His knife came again, the tip spearing toward my throat. Not my gut or chest — easier, closer targets. I was taller than this stocky brute. My neck was not an ideal target. I took a quick step back and summoned my suit. Armor slithered back over my hands and face.

The thug paused for a moment. Shock and dismay flashed across his face. Not surprise. He lunged again, both hands gripping the handle of the knife.

I seized POWER, and he all but stopped in the air mid-strike. I snapped a hand out and took hold of his wrist. He was as a child against my strength. I doubted this was a man accustomed to being overpowered so easily.

He didn't miss a beat. He dropped the knife from the hand held in my grip and caught it with his free hand, striking with the same movement.

I growled and snatched the blade from his grip by the blade. I held his gaze with the burning fire of my visor. I squeezed and felt the weapon shatter in my hands.

He sagged then. I had shown him. He had seen. He knew there was nothing else he could do.

The man with the harelip was gone. Of course he was.

I turned my attention back to the would-be assassin, dangling from my grip like a paper streamer in the wind.

He said, "Well… fuck."

I said, "Who sent you?"

He said, "Nobody sent me. I thought you might have coin."

I shook my helmed head. My voice lacked nothing for command. "You start all your muggings with murders? That's not how this plays out."

The man said, "Been burned too many times. Easier to take money from a dead man."

I shook my head again. "You normally pick marks in pairs? In broad daylight? You went for my neck. You knew about the suit under the cloak."

The man's eyes darted up the hill, and I followed them. The older woman and her two brutes were standing, gaping at the Griidlord that had materialized in their midst. A couple of children stood in a front garden, hands on the wall, mouths hanging open. I could feel faces and eyes appearing at every window.

I shook the man. "You're coming with me."

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

He gave me no satisfaction. He was terrified, truly. I only had to extend HEARING to detect the hammering of his heart. I could see the sweat on his skin, the paleness of fear. He was dead. He knew it.

I caught him in both arms and leapt, driving with all the power I could into the ground. We went airborne, sailing yards. When we hit the ground I turned my motor on and sprinted down the street at the fastest gallop I could muster. I couldn't summon the Footfield so close to homes and people. I wanted a private moment with the would-be killer. So I ran.

The sight was probably comical in its way. I ran, carrying a man in my hands like a hot loaf of bread, held away from my body for fear of another weapon being produced.

For his part, he hung resigned in my grasp, arms loose at his sides. His expression was one of disappointed defeat. I could only hope to face my own death one day with such composure.

In the orange grove, I tossed him to the ground. He hit the dirt hard, but rolled easily and came back to his feet.

"Who sent you?"

He crossed his arms. "I told ya. Nobody sent me. I was looking for coin."

I drew my sword. Night had almost completely fallen. The grove was dark, the light passing through the leaves a faded brown. The fire of my sword was excruciatingly bright in the darkness. It illuminated his face with a red pall. His eyes were glued to the weapon.

I said, "Do you want to live?"

His eyes darted back to my visor. He arched an eyebrow, unconvinced. "That an option, is it?"

I stepped closer. He took a satisfying step back. "A filthy murderer who kills randomly to steal coin purses has no chance to live."

His eyes metronomed between my face and the hot hunger of my blade. He said, "Alright. I knew you was in a suit. I knew the best way to get you was in the neck."

I said, "Who told you? Who sent you?"

He said, "You gonna let me walk if I tell you?"

I paused. I didn't want to make the assurance. I could feel the blood inside my helm. The pain was nearly blinding. I shuddered for an instant, remembering how the flaps of flesh had felt to my hand.

I said, "If you tell me everything, and I'm convinced you've told me everything, then you can walk. But even if you tell me everything and I just imagine you left something out, I'll leave you in two pieces."

He swallowed hard. Then he nodded. "Fair enough."

"Get on with it then."

He said, "Was the Children sent me. One of them weirdos came to me in my office. My office being a tavern down by the docks."

He smiled at his own joke as though I gave a shit.

When I didn't react, he went on. "It's mad how they knew so much. Told me to come up this way, that a fella would be along to look at that house. The house you went to. Told me I had to cut him, couldn't let him see me coming. Told me the fucker would be dangerous and I'd only get one chance. In my defense, my lord, I didn't know it was a suit I was being sent after. If I'd known, then you'd never have been bothered by me. They told me to go for the neck. Suppose I should have taken a clue from that, but you could have been wearing any kind of armor under that."

He pointed to my cloak.

I gripped the cloth covering my armor and ripped it away. It was caught by the breeze and floated aside. I said, "The Children? Of the Fountain?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Don't do business with freaks like that, normal like. But the pay was good. Really good."

I said, "How could they know I'd be here? How could they know I'd be walking around with my armor down like that? Can they see the future?"

He shrugged. "Fuck, son, your guess is as good as mine. I just wanted the pay packet. Putting a knife in your neck was about as easy as in your back, so I did what I was told. They're queer folk, the Children. People say they know things mortals shouldn't, but I always thought it was nonsense. But they had every detail down to the last."

I said, "It doesn't make sense..."

He said, pointing back up the slope where we'd come from, "Look, son, you gotta understand. I didn't know who you was. I would never—"

The moment I turned my head in the direction of his pointed finger, he lunged again. A power-axe blazed into existence from beneath the folds of his robes and he shot forward like a striking snake. He was fast. So fast. California Zeb.

I took hold of POWER once more. I was angry.

Lauren was dead, and I was in a holding pattern, stewing on my revenge. I burned everywhere inside, with rage and grief at what had happened. I burned with frustration at the strings pulling me in every direction. Balthazar, Enki, now the Children of the Fountain. I would cut those strings — cut them clean — but it burned me that I'd ever let them tie me in the first place.

I slapped him with the back of my hand. The blow was meant to knock him down.

But I was very angry, and a bit surprised. And I was already forgetting how fleshy and soft the mortal body was.

His head snapped awkwardly to one side as my backhand caught him. He was launched from his feet, even as I felt the bones of his skull crunching and folding around my hand. He smashed into an orange tree with the force of a charging horse.

I stood, looking at his crumbled form. It was unsettling how unsettled I wasn't. Just another kill. It was too easy. I'd seen too much of it.

"I was going to let you go," I assured the body. He had lunged from certainty I was going to slay him anyway, or greed for his contract. He had been fast with the axe. He'd chosen the knife on the street — a quick, hidden weapon. He'd chosen the power-axe here, something that had at least a chance at hurting a Griidlord. I wondered if things would have played out differently if he'd chosen the axe in the first place. That said, if not for the reaction of the hare-lipped man, the knife would have surely killed me.

I turned to leave, disappointed in myself for killing him when he might have had more to say.

I stopped and poked through the pockets. The power-axe was a pristine weapon — and precious. I took it and placed it against my waist. My suit understood, and a loop of mystorium folded out to grip the weapon to my body. His armor was very fine, but too bulky to carry and too time-consuming to remove from him.

I moved out of the grove and took the Footfield again.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.