Surfacing Ch. 21

Mourn caught my eye and it was a clear warning to let it be at that. I had planned on it; given what was happening at the time, I would not have been surprised if Tamuril had heard nothing because her ears were ringing.

"So he wasn't babbling in a rage," I said, this time to Mourn. "He was in control, but he only threw his fists when he could have drawn anything."

The hybrid give me an interested look, tilting his head. "Some of the hottest tempers burn in complete silence."

"But he did say one thing."

"Hm. Did the other say anything to you?"

I smiled. "In Common. 'Gonna rape you.'"

Mourn's ears tilted back slightly but Jael just snorted, possibly taking her cue from my dismissive expression.

I continued. "I threatened to rape him back and then conjured an image of him taking a string of his fellow warriors. He blinked and stopped talking. I think he knew my Common was better than his."

"None of them seem to say much," Jael observed, snickering a bit at my description. "They don't even tend to make much noise when stabbed."

"Except," Tamuril said softly, looking tentatively at me. "Except for that one you struck in the back with the black blade."

I winced. Yes, I was sure the entire forest had heard that one.

"Come," Mourn said. "I appreciate your deductions but we can't stay here."

We left, but I was not sure about the direction. Mourn seemed to be searching for something in particular but when I tried to ask him what, he signed for me to "hold." I assumed that he meant questions.

We followed along together through the hills as Mourn led us with every flick of his tongue constantly tasting the air. I watched his tail, certainly having to stay outside of its area of influence, but more to note when he seemed to become agitated. He signed just before I had reached the end of my patience and would demand information from him.

*Dragon Lead does not answer.*

I blinked, not understanding at first but then I got past the contextual block.

Peng lok, the lead brother of Team Lung, Yungian for "dragon."

Uh-oh.

*Can you sense his pearl as you can mine?* I signed.

Mourn hesitated, but nodded once. He wasn't going to argue with me over where they had come from this time; he simply admitted that he knew how to sort out the feel of these small, magical pebbles from the background of everything else. I was certain now that, even if Talov and his dwarves may have somehow created the long-range, big pearls they used on their missions, they had originally gotten the idea from Mourn. There was something linking them altogether, and the Guild leader knew what it was.

I actually shuddered as I recalled my last thought about this back in Augran, how the Valsharess would love to know the secret, and how much more tightly effective her agents would be with such a tool. Especially over such a distance.

We were slow, cautious, and – if I had to take a guess – indirect in how we approached the area where the pearl resided. We had yet to see if Peng lok and his two brothers would be with it.

I slowly recognized that a copse of trees seemed to be at the center of Mourn's meandering circle, and it took only a short study to determine that they stood tall enough and in the right place for look out. A person high enough in the branches would probably have seen anyone approaching that small hollow where the dead Hellhounds now lie.

Nothing seemed disturbed at first glance, no broken branches or churned earth to indicate a high-energy conflict. My night eyes detected the shapes of two prone bodies, however, and they were about the right size for our Yungians. Next, the breeze shifted just right and I smelled sour sweat and blood, and heard subtle gasps of pain.

The Hellhounds had caught them, possibly by surprise. And one was missing.

Even with the scent of blood in the air, Mourn did not rush forward. This would be a perfect ambush if we missed even one thing. If the two were able to be recovered, as they seem to me at first glance, they would have to hold on for a little longer while we checked over the area. It could not really be secured, but it would give us a small, clear area to work within.

Jael and I stood watch as Mourn and Tamuril were eventually able to make their way in and check on the two Men. They both spoke to their lung-jinshen in their native tongue, racked with pain but conscious. I did not know what they said but I recognized Nianzu and Peng lok.

Deshi was missing.

An odd, cold feeling crept up my spine into the back of my head as I wondered as to the method of selection. Had it been pure luck and opportunity, the same as a random coin-flip or toss of the dice? Or had one or more of the Hellhounds been able to sense the death magic in the boy? What had Gavin called it in Ma'ab, "Maknuut?" Did that count only for those with actual Ma'ab blood, or would it count for any necromancer outside of their Empire? Sarilis, for example. Or a well-trained Guild assassin with a tattoo of the Winter Ghost on his shoulder?

"It wasn't just the three we know are out there," Mourn said over his shoulder to us. "There were two others, and one older and larger with a helmet."

The chill seeped in further for my spine to clench around my stomach like a fist. "Why are they still alive?"

"He wanted them to be. The attack took moments. They took all their supplies and their boots, shattered only one leg on each man, and left them here for us to find."

"Except for Deshi."

"Correct." Mourn kept his voice very steady, I could tell he was thinking carefully.

"Did Divigna say anything to them?"

"No. No words, no threats."

I pursed my lips as I wondered exactly what Mourn and Tamuril were going to do about two shattered legs without any supplies. I figured something would come out of Mourn's webbing or one of his many patches, but I would not get to see what. Still, Peng lok and Nianzu were alive only because Kreshel had willed it.

Perhaps the Hellhounds' leader thought that crushed legs would slow us down and stress us out, consuming more resources and people than we had to spare. Perhaps he wanted to see if we would call extra help from the West and give him an idea where they might be hiding. That sounded like the best case scenario for him to leave these two here as they were.

Although even healing them as Mourn was doing now, getting them back to their feet and in fact not requiring additional aid from elsewhere... Well, that would still tell Kreshel something about us. Each interaction told us something about them – not the least of which was that, as dangerous as they were, we Drow were still faster in a pitched fight – but they had just looted us as we had them, and whatever items the Guild had on them would not remain a secret if someone on the opposing side could figure out what they were for.

Divigna had sacrificed seven Hellhounds at the first clash, and five more here in this forest. Even though there had been no survivors, could he have still known about more than a few specifics in his opponents? We did not know what all those tattoos actually did, but Gavin had suggested at least a few of them were for communication.

Mourn and Krithannia had said to expect this to get harder the longer it went on.

*What do we do now?* Jael signed as, after a very tense half-hour, the two Guildsmen gingerly regained their feet. I noticed them wince as they first put pressure on newly fused bone.

*We see if they left a trail,* Mourn answered, and withdrew a pair of matching, matte black daggers in their sheaths, offering one each to the Yungians.

Peng lok and Nianzu each bowed their head to him with their fists clenched and accepted the borrowed weapon, each with both hands palm up. Boots or no boots, they were coming along and their field leader clearly had no objection. I thought it was a bit silly at first – they had only the torn and bloody clothes and the supple, assassin's armor on their backs – but I had to figure Mourn was simply keeping us together now. We could not send these two to return to the rendezvous cave by themselves for more supplies and expect them to make it.

*Black Ghost, call the dark spirit horse to catch up and move before us.*

I resisted giving Mourn too strange of a look in front of the Yungians, knowing they could read that and it was worded for their benefit. I closed my fist around the hard, unseen knucklebone still inside my glove and nodded, doing just that.

*The leader may sense it,* I signed.

Mourn nodded. *Intended.*

Very well. We still had to follow a trail, so Night-mare would not be too far in front of us.

It turned out that, for a giant with a prisoner, Divigna had a very light set of feet. Likewise Mourn and his two Guildsmen had to assume that Deshi was probably not conscious because they could not find any familiar sign that he would've been trained to leave behind if he was at all able. We found sign of a few of the others stepping around, but if we had not had an eyewitness account, we would not have been able to tell that Divigna had been among them. I imagined Kreshel was probably carrying the smaller man, and he had something that was helping him walk like a ghost.

In the end, the most reliable trail was that which Mourn could follow by scent. Once he caught that, and I assumed it was the Guildsman he had focused on, we sped up in the hopes of catching them before they reached the city wall and brought Deshi in among more Hellhounds. We were still running on two legs just like them, however, and I regretted that not all of us could ride on something with four. It would leave the most vulnerable behind, Tamuril, Peng lok, and Nianzu. Mourn did not let any agitation show at being held back, assuming he felt any, and he did not suggest splitting up in the interest of speed; we pushed ourselves to keep up when Mourn signed that silence was less important and if we could tempt them to stop and engage us rather than continue on, that was what we wanted.

*Krithannia, Reprisal and Vigor are informed,* he signed. *Wolf and his team are coming.*

A risk, I knew; if they were detected leaving the area, it might give the Hellhounds a place to start looking for the Templars. However, I did not even know where Reprisal was right now and understood that there had to be acceptable risk in any situation.

What we were hoping would not happen, did. The Ma'ab decided to confront us, yes, but the three we met in a sudden and direct skirmish did not include Divigna or Deshi. These had been dispatched to slow us down, nothing more. They began with thunderstones similar to what Kurn had. They used three, spread out enough that it affected all of us, though we had avoided traveling in a cluster. They had made so certain that it even affected them, too.

I was blind, again, and I could hear nothing but an agonizing, high pitch in my ears.

*Sirana!* I heard Mourn in my head, a very strange feeling when my ears were ringing. *Send the mare!*

I saw his point at once: Gavin's mare would not have been affected by those thunderstones. I sensed her charge forward at my command and, without Mourn's leave, I did the same, allowing my spiders to come out onto my arms as I drew Soul Drinker.

Instead of following anything I could see or hear, I focused on that strange void granted by the necromancer's talisman and could tell about where she was headed. It was not perfect; my shoulder glanced off of a tree trunk or two and I nearly lost my balance once as the thunderstones did leave me somewhat disoriented. Like the horse, like my spiders, it was with pure, single-minded focus that I used Night-mare to home in on our targets and closed enough distance enough to act quickly.

*Bite!* I commanded, this time to the horse, not my spiders.

My vision would be the last thing to return, but my ears recovered enough to give me my balance and work with all my other senses to know what was around me. The dark horse grappled with one of the Hellhounds, her teeth sunk in and her jaw fixed so that he couldn't break her hold; she kept him in one place long enough for me to throw my relic at him. I had seen it go through their armor once before, and it was the same this time as I heard a thump when it struck him center mass.

Though the Hellhound only grunted as he tried to free himself from the undead equine, he, too, screamed a moment after the dagger pierced him. If the other two were moving at all, they hesitated at hearing the sound. It was unusual for one of them to cry out at all, and my dagger shrilled wordlessly in glee as it drained his essence into it.

*MINE!* it cried possessively, and in response I commanded Gavin's mare to release the Hellhound's arm immediately and step back.

The next instant Mourn and Jael both charged in to engage the other two before they could get away. Lung was moving haphazardly into position to cut off any alternate escape route, and Tamuril moved closer to us in general, staying back far enough to perhaps get a shot should one of them break the circle, but I didn't know how much she may have recovered from the thunderstones.

The magic-tinged double-blade in my Sister's hands cut through the air, though Mourn was not using the sliders in such close melee but rather he may have been using his fists and claws and tail. I recognized a disarming move from each of my partners prior to several more grunts from the Hellhounds as they were battered mercilessly by two Drow proven to be faster than they were, even blind. I tasted a pulse of magic for a moment but did not know exactly what its effect had been. It briefly reminded me of Mourn and Jael's fight on the hill and I wondered if their auras just fused again...

Two bodies dropped very quickly.

"So slow," Jael huffed, exalted. "A wonder they don't piss themselves before they can get their dick out to drain it."

Smiling as my eyes finally began to clear, I saw three bodies and a two-pronged weapon that had been stabbed into Night-mare's neck, by which she seemed unaffected. To my delight, I realized the Hellhound taken by Soul Drinker actually had open wounds caused by the mare's teeth from *before* I had stabbed him.

*Night-mare can bite through the tattoos,* I told Mourn immediately, coaxing my babies, unused but lively, back into their dark home.

He grunted an affirmative aloud, but he was intensely focused on the battered body at his feet.

After retrieving and cleaning Soul Drinker, now settled happily in its sheath, I got closer to study what else I could without wasting time. Jael's target about ten paces away was sliced across his inked face in a rough "X" shape that did not seem as deep as they should be. Nonetheless I could see which wound was the mortal one; he had been pierced deeply in the gut just below where his wrapped chain protected his torso. He was flat on his back, dead. The Hellhound Mourn had attacked was still moving, still alive, but had two broken hands, two broken knees, and had been hamstringed; he was bleeding into the grass.

I also saw the three Ma'ab had been ready with further weapons – this time delaying the chains and all intending to use the same two-pronged, stabbing weapon. I removed the one from Gavin's mare to study it, and it appeared to be fouled with something dark and viscous. The weapons could have been thrown but the Hellhounds just never had the chance, except for into the mare which had no effect. They had needed to get close to throw those things through the trees, but they had gambled on being able to recover first from the thunderstones. Likely they had not fully realized that three of us could fight wholly blind, and I wondered that they had not used something even more long-ranged than their chains.

Mourn picked up one of the two-pronged things, scenting it carefully and addressing the injured Ma'ab. "What is this? Shall I test it on you?"

The Hellhound sweated profusely and trembled in pain, dark and bloodshot eyes staring up at him from a pale face that became paler and greyish. But for the obvious physical strain, the Ma'ab seemed calm; I could not immediately read whether he was intimidated by any of our appearances, despite Mourn who loomed over him. I sensed a subtle increase in warmth at my chest just as the Guild leader selected a tattoo on the left side of the Ma'ab's thick neck and used the forked piece to scrape the poison across it.

The Hellhound flinched slightly at how far his skin depressed beneath the prod but the surface was not broken, nor did the black streak seem to negatively affect either the marks or his flesh. Yet, I saw the deep cut on the back of his thigh and I knew Mourn had tried to gouge him just now. With his arm there had been plenty of strength behind it, yet it did not work. I did not enjoy this inconsistency in which some blades cut and pierced these Ma'ab elite and some did not, but finally I could at least see a pattern.

The older, enchanted weapons were much more likely to get through on a first attempt than mundane weapons and the brief bursts of magic such as Tamuril's vines and thorns. That meant Jael's loaner, the double blade, was probably enchanted; I already knew that it was old just based on where we found it. Similarly, Mourn must have on him a dagger infused with magic; he had to in order to make a single, clean cut that deep on the Hellhound. I wondered which one it was?

It also meant Soul Drinker would make me a high priority target, and... Wait. Did this also mean that Night-mare's sharp, conical teeth were inherently magical? I knew Gavin was practically blood-bonded to something much older than him; did the horse share this as well through her creator? She must in some way, because she had torn right through those tattoos...

Mourn opened his mouth wide and lifted his tongue in a way that ripped me straight out of my thoughts and forced me to pay attention to what was going on. No one had said anything after Mourn's question; only a few moments had passed as Peng lok, Nianzu, and Tamuril had taken a few steps closer. I heard nothing from Mourn except a sound similar to what I might hear if my waterskin had a tiny hole in it and I squeezed it hard to squirt water out for some distance: other than a slight "shush," one mostly heard the drops of liquid hitting a surface.

That was the case here. I glimpsed a thin streak of fluid leave from beneath Mourn's tongue and then heard that small bit of liquid strike the same spot on the Hellhound where Mourn had tried to puncture him. The Ma'ab flinched again in surprise but nothing seemed to hurt at first. The dragonblood never once looked away from his prey and finally I could read that the Hellhound was, on some level, afraid of him.

Then I smelled something familiar enough for any handler of poisons: flesh suffering a severe burn that had nothing to do with fire. The Hellhound made an impressive attempt to remain silent, but the continuous chemical sear only escalated until he grimaced, slapped his gloved hand to his neck as if that would help, and, finally, wailed out in extreme discomfort as I saw a red, raw flesh open up, destroying the tattoo.

At the same time, a quieter but no less distressed sound came from Tamuril's direction and I looked to see that she was covering her ears and turning away from the scene. She took a step farther away and I could not see anything more risky for her to do. I came up to her swiftly, blocking her path and claiming her full attention.

"You can't leave," I said over the Hellhound's sounds and whatever Mourn was asking him right now. I resented missing it on account of a Noldor trying to go off by herself.

"I don't wish to stand here and watch this," she said thickly, green eyes moist in the dark as she looked at me, her hands still hovering over her pale, pointed ears.