Chapter 82 – On Edge.

Darkness still clung to the sky as they hurried their way along an almost non-existent trail that ran down the mountainside, Fairweather rather impressed at how well Tsugua was keeping his footing. The path was sloped and as much loose stone as packed earth, but he was walking along it like it was a paved city road. Granted he was wearing a pair of goggles that Odinsphere had given him, unearthed from amongst the hoard that the floating city and it’s ghostly personas had, but even with them she was certain that his vision wouldn’t be as good as hers in the dark. One of the features of being a Ghostkin-Catfolk, and having had normal vision before she had become an other race, she could appreciate the vast difference between the two. Clocky was walking behind her as carefully as the pace would allow him, her lover also wearing a pair of the googles. She wasn’t sure exactly how much he was using them versus the now background running of his quirk, a change that had occurred with Velvet’s return but he had only just recently realised. He’d told her on the flight here from the floating city that its passive use wasn’t anywhere near as powerful as when he deliberately called on it, but it still pinged him with information nevertheless.

While it would have been convenient to be dropped directly in on Caylinhold, it wouldn’t have been practical and the chance that they would have been noticed quite high. The skimmer couldn’t maintain the needed height to remain unseen, even running in dark mode, and none of them had the wings needed to slow their fall from a drop from Ashling. Sure Clocky and herself could have reinforced themselves for the impact with the ground as she had seen Myne, Rachael and Crystal do, but Tsugua couldn’t, and it would have made a lot of noise to boot. So they had been dropped off as close to the city as they dared to go with the skimmer, the rest of the team taking the skimmer back around the mountain, out of sight, the rest of the team waiting their for their signal. It was a miracle that they’d been able to get it to fly that high up the mountainside in the first place, but Hope had done a brilliant job at getting them here, Spectre taking over when they’d dismounted the craft. Carmen had been curious about flying the craft, but as she didn’t have her arkchild yet it wasn’t viable. She did seem to share some of Petunia’s enthusiasm for vehicles, albeit only a small fraction in comparison to the former noble. Speaking of Hope, she was currently squirrelled away in her backpack, the arkchild’s weight noticeable but not an issue. For this part of the mission it was easier to carry her than have her walk.

‘I’m not that heavy,’ Hope mentally huffed at her, Fairweather quietly chuckling in response.

‘No, I’m sure you’re not. Any signs of movement outside of the city walls?’

‘None that I can sense. I’ll have a better idea when we get closer.’

Fairweather nodded to herself. So far, so good.

And on the topic of her helmet, she’d don it when it became necessary, but at the moment she wasn’t wearing it. She found it incredibly uncomfortable, her ears squished down against her head. Sure, she’d always had a dislike for hats for that exact reason, and rarely ever wore one, heaven forbid even entertaining the thought, but the sensation now was so much worse. She was surprised that the infernal thing hadn’t caught fire from her flames, but that type of reaction could have its own unintended consequences if it were so. She did like her pillow after all. So the helmet was secured against the pack, and she’d put it on once they were inside the city.

It took around twenty minutes for Caylinhold to finally come into view, the bright lights of the wall that illuminated the ground in front of it proudly declaring that yes, the city is here. She could see shadows on the top of the wall, occasionally shifting as they moved between the spotlights, then sweeping the ground with the spotlight. They were much higher up than the tall section of the wall that terminated the cliff road to the city, instead heading towards a comparatively shorter section that run up the mountainside itself, fused and running into its depths at sections. Remnants of the pre-shattering ruins on which the city was built, and comparative as they would still towered above them. While there were still lights on this section of them, they were infrequent and unmanned. Tsugua had informed them that no one in their right mind would try and attack the city from that side of the city, due to the sheer difficulty of getting up there in the first place. That they had just flown near that area was different case entirely. The top of the wall was spiked and edged with a rather generous amount of barbed wire, but Fairweather didn’t think it would cause them much issue. They weren’t normal people any more after all. Apparently the entirety of the wall was usually monitored by way of circuits that ran through it, but whether or not that was active was dependant on who they currently had assisting the powering of the city, and what auxiliary sections they had active.

‘Definitely no one manning this section, and no one in close vicinity of the other side,’ Hope informed her. ‘I’ll let Spectre and Kitsune know that we’re at the city now.’

‘Thanks.’

It didn’t take them long to reach the wall, the smattering of small shrubs and flaxes ceasing once they were within ten meters of it, as if it was anathema to any form of plant life. Making a beeline for a faint section of shadows in between two of the spotlights, Tsugua pressed himself up against the wall, seeming to concentrate before he looked back at them and motioned them over.

“The circuit isn’t active. No one is monitoring the wall,” he said as they reached him.

“Good,” Fairweather said with a smile. “In we go then.”

Calling her magic to herself, she reinforced her body, feeling the power flow within her as she felt her strength increase and her body overall become more resilient. The was definitely one boon of the boost to their magic that she really appreciated. Those with gem magic or more really were lucky, though she guessed that she counted amongst them as well now. Crouching down, she all but launched herself into the air as she effortlessly scrambled up the wall, balancing on top of the barbed wire as she took it in. Four rows of barbed wire, rusted in places but still razor sharp, a regular array of rusted metal spikes running along the edge, and a carpet of shards of glass, all pointing edges up, running right through the middle. Dangerous enough to shred any poor sod who happened to find themselves on the top of this section of the wall, and would have also ruined the boots that Rachael had made for her if her reinforcement magic hadn’t also extended to her clothes. Clocky would be fine, his skill with reinforcement just as good as hers, though both of them were well below what the girls and Myne could manage, but Tsugua would need to be careful.

Clocky appeared next to her as she unlatched the rope from her backpack, and dropped the end down the wall. Waiting for Tsugua to secure it to himself, she stepped back, letting Clocky grab the rope in front of her as they pulled it back up, the channeller in tow. Getting him past the spikes and outer rows of barbed wire proved to be the most annoying part, Clocky almost swinging him around them and then right over the wall, the rope stopping him from falling to far once Clocky let go. It was a good thing that they still had a hold of it of course. Once he had lowered himself down, Fairweather coiled the rope back up, and leapt down, landing with a dull thud. Clocky landed quietly beside her, recovering into a roll. Not something that she could do with Hope in her backpack.

“I guess it’s now more of a deterrent than anything else,” Tsugua said with a slight shake of his head.

“All the rules are changing,” Clocky replied as Fairweather stashed the rope beside Hope.

‘No one seems to have detected us,’ Hope added. That at least was good.

There was just enough light from the moon that combined with her vision Fairweather could see the city stretching out before them, at least the half of it that wasn’t inside the mountain itself. A smattering of recently constructed buildings dotted the otherwise barren upper slope of the mountain, before the buildings of the original city started, at first just roofs jutting out of the rock before they become more defined, rising out of the stone as the ground sloped down around them. There was a stark contrast between the two, wood and brick, squat and low, flowing into buildings of stone and steel, angular and defined, as if they were trying to fight against the world itself. A network of stairs, wooden bridges and platforms, and alleys connected them all, a small number of street lights glowing, the rest all remaining dark. The main street, that started at the gate in the wall and cut straight through the middle of the city, right into the mountain itself and the internal portion of the city, was fully illuminated with pools of amber light, a single group of guards walking along its length, weapons at the ready. She could also see the branch of the main road that headed towards the cliff-side of the city, down below which apparently were stone jettys, as well as the entrance to a large cave that formed the true port of the city. Further west of the city itself she could just see the peninsula, its flat expanse covered in fields of crops, walls running around the edges to provide a little extra protection to the plants that had adapted rather well to the environment. Naturally isolated, and a perfect addition to the city. Catlin had sounded rather proud as she had given them a run down of Caylinhold’s layout. Rightfully so, a somewhat self sustained fortress on the side of the mountain.

Hugging the wall, they made their way down into the city, Fairweather donning her helmet once they had reached the level of the houses, grimacing at how uncomfortable it was. Even her tail was starting to complain now, not liking being wrapped around her waist. She’d be happy once it was all over, and she didn’t have to hide her true nature. The waves sloshing against the cliff far below formed an ambient background noise along with the morning wind as it passed though the alleys, otherwise it was quiet, the town asleep. Tsugua peeled away from the wall once they had passed the fourth layer of buildings, leading them through an alley that stunk of piss and grime, and down a steep set of stairs, the moonlight temporarily blocked as they passed under a series of walkways. They stopped as they reached a corner, the smell intensifying and the murmur of voices becoming audible. Tsugua motioned them to hug the wall, light spilling out into the alley as a door opened and closed.

‘A drinking establishment?’ Hope queried. Fairweather nodded. That was her best guess given all of the evidence.

Tsugua spread his fingers out over the wall, his hand faintly glowing beneath his gloves for a moment as Fairweather felt him channel mana from the leyline. Odinsphere hadn’t told the rest of them much at all about the capabilities of the arm that it had crafted for Tsugua, but how impressed both he and Catlin had been with it spoke volumes. While they weren’t using their previous communication network at the moment, Tsugua still had an earpiece in, and he had a look of concentration on his face.

Fairweather’s ears perked up as she heard some shuffling from behind them,. Turning to look, she watched as a figure slowly came into view from behind the building. Even packed together as they were in this layer, the remnants of another age, they still had numerous small alleys and passages between them all.

“What the ’ikes of you doing this far up?” The man slurred at them, bloodshot eyes staring. He was dirty and dishevelled, dressed in what had once been a suit. He was stooped over, flagon held loosely in one hand, hair falling over his face.

“We protect all of the city,” Clocky answered him confidently, stepping forward.

“Course you are,” the man said sarcastically. He tilted his head, looking Clocky over suspiciously. “You aren’t ’rmed properly for it,” he then declared.

Fairweather glanced at Tsugua, who shrugged at her, his attention mostly elsewhere if he was doing what she assumed he was.

“Properly for what?” Clocky asked, his confusion masked to anyone not familiar with him in the way that she was.

“The cursed of ’dinsphere of course. Shuffling around, ’oaning and the like. Don’t stay down less you burn em. So where’s your ‘aming weapons and the like?”

“Right here of course. Brand new model.” Fairweather unsheathed one of her daggers, coating its blade with her ethereal flames, the shadows around them dancing. They were the ones that she’d always had, a little worse for the wear since the explosion, but with the flames they looked something wicked.

The man’s eyes open wide, his drunken state even more evident as the flagon dropped out of his hand and smashed on the ground. “Nasty, ’ose things,” he murmured, eyes glued to the flames. Fairweather dismissed the flames and sheathed the dagger, the man shaking his head, hair flailing everywhere.

“We’re ’oomed,” he muttered. “’oomed,” before he turned, and started shuffling away in the direction that they had come from.

Fairweather breathed a sigh of relief. At least he hadn’t made a big fuss or anything or brought any more attention to them. As to what he was talking about, she had no idea, but it sent a shiver down her spine. Clocky was frowning as well.

“Learn anything?” Clocky asked Tsugua.

Tsugua shook his head, and removed his hand from the wall, pulling his jacket closer as if to ward off the cold. “No, nothing more than what that drunk just told us. It’s not something that I’d ever heard about before. The guards have never had the need for fire-aspected weapons, nor have we ever had rumours of a curse.”

“Related to the pulse?” Fairweather queried.

“Could be,” Tsugua nodded. “Or it could be being used as an excuse.”

“It’s both,” Clocky stated definitively, a frown on his face. Fairweather felt another chill.

“Oh.” Tsugua frowned as well. “I recognise that man as well, but I can’t quite place him.” He shook his head. “Let’s continue.”

Tsugua turned and started weaving his way through the building, heading down towards the main road, Fairweather and Clocky following behind. At least the man hadn’t questioned their helmets, which hopefully indicated that whoever was currently in charge hadn’t changed that rule yet. The smell of the tavern and associated area abated somewhat, replaced by the sharp tang of salt, the air getting distinctly cooler. The temperature drop before dawn. It wouldn’t freeze though, this close to the sea, and it was the wrong season anyways.

‘I have passed on everything we have learned thus far,’ Hope informed her, Fairweather thinking her thanks back. ‘Catlin is concerned, but as we already know, we still have too little info to go off.’

It wasn’t until they reached the main road that they finally saw some guards, a squad of four bristling with weapons marching hastily down the middle of the road. Longswords, crossbows, maces, and one with a long pipe weapon with bulky box and one end and with tubes going to a backpack. They kept glancing at every single alleyway as they passed, but they definitely looked like they weren’t going to venture down any of them, even if they actually spotted something. Tsugua pulled them back into the shadows, one of the guards glancing down their alley but not slowing their pace at all. Fairweather could see why the drunk had commented on them, if all of the other guard squads were armed in the same way.

“Not normal?” Clocky asked.

“Not at all.” Tsugua shook his head. “That also rules out my original plan. We won’t be walking along the main street or sneaking into the post at the gate. They’ll be suspicious, and they look to be on edge enough as it is. Plan B it is then.”

Walking back down the alley, the returned to the network of roads, alleys and overpasses as Tsugua followed the direction of the main road, heading towards the entrance to the under mountain portion of the city. They paused at an intersection of roads, another squad of guards hurrying past, just as heavily armed as the first. Fairweather was beginning to have her doubts if they would be of any actual use against these supposed cursed at all. On edge seemed to be an understatement.

Fairweather paused partway across the intersection, the squad now out of view, a breeze bringing with it the stench of death. “What’s up that way?” she asked, pointing back up the slope, perpendicular to where they were heading.

“Artisan square,” Tsugua replied, stopping.

“We should look. Something smells off.”

Tsugua nodded, and headed up the road, Fairweather and Clocky following behind. A few lights flickered from inside a few of the buildings that they passed, but otherwise it was just as quiet and empty as the rest of the city that they had travelled through thus far. The smell got stronger the closer they got, Clocky making a noise when he finally picked up on it. It didn’t take them long to reach the square, the slope flattening and the road opening out into a plaza, two other roads merging at diagonals. There wasn’t a lot to it, planters with a variety of flowers around the edges by the building fronts, and a still towering fountain placed dead in the centre, stone lions in mid leap around the middle bowl and sitting on the upper. Perched on the upper bowl and on the sitting lions was a murder of crows, heads tucked into their feathers. To the right of the fountain a tall metallic pole had been jammed into the ground and secured in recently set concrete, a large metal cage out of reach swinging in the breeze from it. A body lay within the cage, the source of the smell. Tsugua pointed his left hand at the cage, and Fairweather could feel the slight pull of mana from around them as a beam of light illuminated the cage. The pained and gaunt face of a young man stared back at them, his eyes long gone, the handiwork of the crows. That they hadn’t done more damage was surprising, but still the sight made her feel sick.

“#%$@#.” Tsugua cursed, killing the light.

“A common practice?” Clocky asked, an edge to his voice that clearly stated his disapproval of what he’d just seen.

“No. Never in my time. It all looks fresh.” Tsugua clenched his fists, and released them. “That was Matt, one of our number.” His voice was hard, his fists clenching again.

‘Catlin’s reaction was pretty much the same,’ Hope informed Fairweather. ‘At least that rules him out as the traitor.’

“Can your pet tell us how long he’s been dead for?” Tsugua asked.

‘No. Not enough data to go on.’

Fairweather shook her head. Not only were the helmets a pain in that they were irritating her ears to no end, they also meant that she couldn’t see anyone's facial reactions. Having had enough, and not seeing the point in them at the moment as they were going to have difficulty passing as guards in the main areas, she pulled it off, sighing in relief as her ears perked up, happy to be free of the constraints, the flames around them briefly intensifying before they settled down again. Without it on, both her hearing and smell felt that much sharper. A good thing, except for body in the cage. She scrunched up her nose in disgust, and took another look around the plaza.

Compared to the road leading up to it, the square was completely dark apart from the moonlight, no lights anywhere at all, and silent, not even the swinging cage making a sound. It made it all feel wrong. And why had the body even been put here. It wasn’t as if most of the people would have any idea who Matt was, from what Catlin had told them of how the place was run.

‘We have our first shambler.’ Hope’s voice snapped her out of her contemplation, her ears twitching as she picked up on the noise that the arkchild was referring to, from between two of the buildings that sat between the road that they had travelled up, and the left branch of the Y. ‘It just seemed to come to ‘life’ as well, already within my scanning range. It didn’t walk its way into it.’

Fairweather furrowed her brows. That was troubling. “We have company,” she stated as she unsheathed her daggers, coating both in her flames, and calling her magic to reinforce her body. “A shambler. Or cursed. Whatever we want to call them.”

Clocky drew his longsword and stood beside her. He had a gun again too, having been without one since their excursion into the Teeth, an experimental model from Odinsphere that ran on mana as much as gunpowder, but he’d left it sheathed and hidden under his armour. They still made a lot of noise, and the last thing they needed to do was attract unneeded attention. Fairweather had a crossbow on their skimmer, but she’d left it behind as well, another experimental model that would have stood out too much. Tsugua stood just behind them, unarmed. While he had also brought along a new toy, they’d already decided that he wouldn’t use it unless absolutely necessary. It required mana, and the pull would likely be noticed by the other channellers.

Fairweather watched as the body shambled it’s way into view. It’s clothes were rags, barely hanging onto its body, it’s flesh not any better. One of its legs was held at an awkward angle, the foot being more dragged than walked upon, it’s arms held out in front of it, clawed hands hanging loosely. It’s mouth was open, a low moan coming out from it, and it’s eyes were a glowing blood red, disturbing and creepy.

“Just like the undead that Bowser had animated” Clocky muttered, dropping into a defensive stance. “With less armour though.”

Then all of a sudden it was rushing at them, it’s speed something that Fairweather wouldn’t have thought possible, its gait still remaining the same. There was a flutter of wings, the crows cawing as they took flight, Clocky stepping forward and blocking the claws of the shambler as it lunged at them, a following up kick only just pushing it back.

“They’re a lot tougher than the previous ones it appears,” Clocky muttered as his body glowed briefly. He blocked again as it lunged at him, his kick this time sending it a bit further back. “but just as stupid.”

Fairweather dashed past Clocky and under the shamblers arms, daggers slicing upwards into it’s shoulders, finding herself having to roll out of the way it it shifted and tried to claw into her back. Far too fast. Where was Saylin and her explosions when you needed them. Seeing them without armour was unpleasant, a stark reminder that they once had been living, and the putrid smell of rot was even worse up close, Fairweather gagging as she stood up. Even though her daggers had dug deep, she had felt the resistance, like she was cutting into wood rather than flesh. Last time they had fought them, Crystal had been dismembering them. That was going to be a lot more difficult here it appeared, at least without Crystal’s rather unique sword. It was no wonder the guards were so heavily armed. Her flames were taking hold however, a change to her attacks that she had noticed since the pulse. And as a result she also had its attention as well, the shambler giving a guttural scream as turned fully to face her, launching itself straight at her.

Obviously the flames were giving it more than just discomfort, it’s swing with the effected arm slower than with the other. Fairweather danced out of the way, dagger parrying it’s other claw as it lunged at her, arms spread and jaw wide open to reveal a mouth full of rotting and jagged teeth. She dodged again, twirling away from its claws, parried another strike, flames clinging to its hand, and then stepped around it’s lunge. She could have easily outrun it, even with its speed and even with the guard armour on, which was noticeably slowing her down, however in this battle it was her turn to keep it engaged, and distracted.

Fairweather leapt towards the shambler as Clocky slammed into it’s back, Fairweather taking the opportunity as the creature stumbled to slam both of her daggers into its skull, forcing it down. Clocky followed up with a decapitating swing, cursing as the blade got stuck part way through. Pulling his blade free he swung again as the shambler pushed itself up, separating the head which tumbled off its shoulders and rolled up against the fountain, the flames from Fairweather’s daggers still clinging to it.

Fairweather stared in disbelief as the shambler continued to rise, it’s headless body turning to face her directly before it then lunged at her. The drunk had been right there again, and another difference from the Bowser era ones. They really didn’t stay down. Unless you burned them he’d said. Fairweather danced out of the way, slicing into it’s arm again as it went past, sneaking a look at the head. It was still and still by the fountain, unmoving, slowly crumbling away as her ghostly flames ate away at it.

“Pin it down,” she yelled at Clocky as she leapt away from another attack. It really was stupid though, the shambler blindly directing itself to wherever she was. She danced around it some more, leading it towards the fountain, swiping at it where she could, her flames slowly spreading. She slowed briefly when she reached the fountain, stepping up on the lip of the base, before she jumped backwards, praying that she remembered properly when the mid-level basin was. She had it mostly right, her feet soaked as she landed in the water, the wind knocked out of her lungs as her back smacked against the fountain itself. The shambler flailed at her as tripped over the lip of the basin, Clocky coming up behind it, body glowing as he plunged his sword through it’s back and into the fountain itself. The shambler squirmed, trying to push itself up but failing to do so.

Grinning, Fairweather jumped back down, landing beside the struggling creature as she placed her hand as close to it as she dared, and summoned as much of her ghostly flame as she could. The shambler thrashed around as the flames took hold, but to no avail. The flames kept burning, Clocky’s blade keeping it pinned down. Once the shambler finally stopped moving, Clocky went over to it and pulled his sword free.

“We need to keep moving,” he stated, flicking and then sheathing it. “There was no missing that fight, given how quiet the city is.”

“Will they even want to come?” Fairweather asked, just as happy though to leave the square. “It didn’t seem like the guards wanted to actually get involved if they had the choice.”

‘It would seem that you’re both right,’ Hope sent her. ‘Two squads are coming in this direction, albeit very slowly. No more shamblers though. Yet.’

Fairweather passed on the information.

“We are going to need to be more direct however,” Clocky stated bluntly, the glow of magic in his eyes visible through the slit in his helmet. “Just sneaking around isn’t going to be enough, and it’s only going to get messier from here. I have no doubt that there is more to all of this than just a coup d'état, especially now that we have confirmed presence of blood magic beyond the explosion. And if they aren’t already, whoever is behind it all will soon be well aware of our presence.” He turned his head directly to Tsugua. “We need to talk to someone directly. Not necessarily someone you trust, but someone who will know who is in charge now, and what has happened since the ‘failed’ delegation.”

Tsugua sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I was hoping to glean the information before anyone knew we were here, but those things change all that.” He looked at the smouldering corpse. “Our hand has been forced. We won’t call the others in yet. Not till we have a clear plan in mind. I’d still like to avoid any unnecessary bloodshed.”

“Any ideas then?” Clocky questioned.

“I do, assuming he hasn’t already been targetted. A friend, a scavenger. He should be smart enough to have kept his head down. The only downside is that we have to go in to the undercity, which I was hoping to avoid. We have more security measures there.”

“If they’re even active,” Fairweather commented. “Is the city always this dark? And weren’t we heading there anyway?”

“Point taken,” Tsugua answered. “And no to both. We were heading to a rather ‘busy’ establishment that is near the entrance and is well known for gossip, but it’s no longer our best option.”

Fairweather’s ears twitched, the sound of the guards starting to become audible to her, Hope confirming the squads locations.

“We should get a move on,” Fairweather said, heading around the square to the road clockwise from the one they had arrived via. “We’re running out of time, and I’m sure the others will be starting to get a bit fidgety by now.”

‘Crystal and Rachael in particular. Something about being keen to see exactly how tough these undead actually are. Or aren’t. Myne’s just muttering something about ‘his’ influence.’