Spy Games, page 7
"Dad!"
"What? I'm hungry."
"Does that mean I can have four slices?"
"Sure. Go for it, kiddo. Let's eat, then sort things out before we go see if we can wake your mother. Can't believe she's still sleeping."
"You two need to get your act together," she told me, scowling.
I laughed. "Wow, you look just like Phage when you pull your angry face. It's uncanny." I winked at my daughter as she pouted and put her hands on her hips.
"Watch it, or it'll be one piece of dry toast and the rubbish coffee."
"Sorry, won't happen again," I promised, smiling as my daughter flung her hair back over her shoulders and flipped the switch on the kettle.
I felt kind of bad that Phage had missed out on this time, but also grateful and happy for the banter and fun Jen and I had together. Nothing like mortal danger to bond father and daughter.
Jen served coffee which I drank gratefully while she made second lunch, early dinner, or in-between snack, whatever you wanted to call it. I watched her contentedly from the table while she went about her business. She was a great help around the house now and had really stepped up even when she was reluctant to do so. There were plenty of chores as always, and her helping out lightened the load whilst teaching her many a valuable lesson. We never pushed it though, always ensured she had plenty of free time to do her own thing. Spend time with Tyr, ride Kayin, and continue her training.
It was the training that scared me the most. She was good at it, could handle herself pretty well, but she was far from a fighter. Jen much preferred riding, or learning about the Necroverse and whispers with Phage and Peth rather than actual hands-on, down and dirty stuff. There was plenty of time, but it concerned me. She needed to be tough, learn how to take blows and not be freaked out by blood. To know what it felt like to be punched in the head, have your nose broken, experience the crack of a rib. And even more important, how it felt to dole out such punishment to others. Jen had to learn how to fight like a true Necro. Which meant no rules, no concern about losing, just utter confidence as you did what you had to do and then saw it through to the inevitable conclusion. Which was killing another human being you didn't know and never would.
What a way for a father to think. Here I was, looking at my sporty, healthy, perfect daughter and wanting her to learn how to get beaten up and to be able to beat the shit out of anyone who stood in her way. It broke my heart every time I thought of what awaited her, and much as I never, ever wanted her to experience the upbringing I had or what I'd gone though at the Necroschool, I knew she had to learn at least some of what I had and be able to cope with the blood and pain and still do what she had to.
But not yet, not this year, and maybe not for a few more. Then things would have to get serious and she'd have to be taught these skills. This was the hardest part to accept. That I'd have to see my baby girl get beaten, and beaten hard, over and over, if she was to survive and flourish in this mad, bad, dangerous world we had decided our child would be born into.
"Dad, it's ready. You looked like you were miles away. You okay?"
"Fine, just thinking how great you turned out." I spied the food on the counter and whistled. "That looks amazing. Golden bubbly cheese. Yum. Did you add some spice?"
"You know it. Shall we have it outside? It's a lovely day and you haven't seen much of it."
"I already said I'm sorry."
"I didn't mean it like that. I wasn't having a go at you."
"Oh, sorry. Yes, let's take it outside. I'm famished."
We gathered our plates and mugs then took them outside and sat on the grass in the new garden that was coming along nicely. The previous owners hadn't been big on gardening, strictly lawn and a mere nod to flowers in the form of narrow beds around the perimeter, but we'd made it a priority to change all that. So now the beds were deep and curved, packed full of herbaceous perennials and signature specimens, making it feel much like the old place but larger and with ample room to play games and throw balls for Woofer. Plus the trolls, mustn't forget the trolls.
Time spent here, or in the orchards, was always special. Bees, birds, bats in the evening, even hedgehogs. It was paradise. And it was ours. We owed nothing to nobody, apart from our lives, but at least this place made it easier to forget our Necro overlords were most likely watching our every move. Bastards.
I bit down hard on my toast, anger surfacing, but pushed it away and forced myself to enjoy this peace. But it was there, waiting to pounce. The dread, the fear, the sickness. I had to go. I didn't want to go.
What I needed was to get a fucking move on.
"You okay?" asked Jen, face full of concern and sympathy.
"Doing fine. Don't you worry about me. How's the coin?"
Jen patted her jeans pocket and grinned happily. "Safe and sound. Think it's okay to take it out and look at it properly?"
"Course it is. It's yours. A gift. I still can't believe he actually gave it to you. Do you know how rare it is to have something like that?"
"It's not like he didn't have plenty to spare, but it was sweet of him."
"You still don't get it, do you?"
"I know they get funny about their hoard, if that's what you mean. And I remember his meltdown in the old place when he lost that coin. But it was still a present. He won't ask for it back, will he?"
"Ha, as if! Dwarves have very strict codes of honor and etiquette, most based around gold and weapons, so don't worry about that. They are honorable in their own odd way. A gift would never be asked to be returned, not that they ever, and I mean ever, give away such things. When they die, all their property goes directly to the next of kin. That's the way it's always been. Never deviates."
"Has he got any children?"
"Apparently loads, but they don't stick together once they mature, which takes a while. But when he dies, which will be long after our time unless he's unfortunate or does something stupid again like he just did, then his kids will pop up from the mines and bicker and fight and maybe even kill each other to get their hands on his stash."
"Wow, that's a bit wild. They kill over it?"
"People have killed over much less, so it's not a surprise when you know how they feel about gold. But rest assured, yours is safe. Going to take a look?"
Jen put her plate aside and pulled out the coin from her pocket. It shone with a ferocious intensity, almost blinding us both.
"It's so bright. Too bright," she protested, shielding her eyes and moving it into the shade of her body.
"That coin could be thousands, or tens of thousands of years old, and this is the first time in its history it has ever been exposed to sunlight. Think about that."
Jen turned the coin over and over in her hand. "That's crazy. How do they live without sunlight?"
"They have shafts to keep track of the days, and they bask every so often to ensure they don't lose touch with the sun totally, or become a race of blind digging machines, but they don't enjoy it. It's not their natural environment."
"Bet they were laughing when everything began to heat up. Nice and cool down there." Jen pondered the coin, studied the markings that were utterly foreign to us both, then asked, "Are they actually down there, beneath us? I mean, for real?"
"That's a good question, and there's no easy answer to it. Yes and no is the best I can do. They're part of our world, but only in a Necro sense. A regular human couldn't go digging and expect to come cross a dwarf or those halls, or their gold. They're a step away from this reality. Behind a veil, butted up against our world, but existing beside it, not within in, only overlapping for certain people at certain times. Does that make sense?"
"About as much as Wonjin being able to step through into his own world, which is part of ours but not, right?"
"Exactly!" I smiled at my daughter and told her, "Messes with your head, doesn't it?"
"Sure does. But it's good to know these things. To learn."
"Learning is always good. The only problem is," I chuckled, "the more you learn, the more you realize you don't know. But always do your best to understand as much as you possibly can. Knowledge is power, real power, so study hard, listen to people who know more than you, and never be afraid to ask a question if you don't know the answer. Only fools keep quiet for fear of seeming dumb. Smart people are the first to admit they don't understand something and they ask questions and study until they do."
"Good advice." Jen turned the coin with her fingers then looked up and smiled at me. "It feels so warm, and comforting. Like it's mine."
"It is yours."
"No, like it's always been mine. Or it was meant for me, or something. We were meant to be together. Ha, sounds silly." Jen frowned as she studied the coin once more.
"If that's how you feel there's nothing silly about it. Maybe you're right. Maybe that's why it was given to you. Our friend in the basement might have realized it wasn't his coin. That it was yours."
"How could it be mine?"
"I have no idea," I laughed. "But when you think about what just happened, is it really so surprising that you came away with a coin destined to be yours?"
Jen laughed along with me. "No, guess not." She let the coin lay in the palm of her hand, exposed to the sunlight. Absentmindedly, I pulled out Bone Slicer and scraped the burnt edges away from my last piece of toast. He hummed quietly, always happier when free from his holster.
For no reason I could discern, the runes along the damascus steel shone red in what I could only describe as anger, and then he tugged away from the toast and pinged upright, tip of the blade reaching for the sky. My arm twisted, unable to stop him, and then he tugged towards the coin as if he wanted to pierce the very center of this ancient artifact. In fact, I knew that was exactly what he intended. And no matter that would mean running right through Jen's palm too.
"What the hell?" I gasped, as Bone Slicer almost broke my wrist as it shunted sideways then angled straight at Jen's open palm.
Beads of sweat bubbled all over my body as the sheer dread of it all kicked my reactions into overdrive. I grunted as I shifted all my weight and forced the blade to arc sharply down then back up, missing Jen's hand and returning it to my side.
"What are you doing?" asked a bemused Jen, unaware of the near miss.
"It's the knife. It wanted to stab the coin. I don't think it likes it."
"Very funny," she laughed, eyes sparkling with amusement at my nonsense.
"I'm serious. It came to life, the runes activated, red and angry, and it went for the coin. I could hardly stop it. It only acts like this when, you know, I need it to, not just out of the blue." I was trying to be careful with what I said, not wanting to talk about stabbing and gouging, but Jen understood what I meant.
"It acted like you were in a fight?"
"Exactly. The power was incredible, more than I've ever known." Jen scooted over and we stared at the shining runes throbbing and pulsing from pale orange to blood red. Power emanated from the elven blade, dangerous and unforgiving, like it was angry. No, not just angry, scared too.
"The knife's afraid," said Jen like it was obvious.
"I think you're right. But why's it scared of the coin?" We studied it more, and I felt the deep connection to Bone Slicer that had always been there, but something was different. Something wasn't right. "It feels like it's waging an inner battle. Almost like it's been programmed but doesn't want to be. It's torn. As though its loyalty is under question. Damn, this doesn't even make sense, but I feel it. The knife doesn't know what to do."
"Can you really tell all that just by holding it?"
"I can. I've never felt this close to it though, not this connected. It's telling me something, but I'm not sure what. Can you open your hand again, show it the coin? Maybe drop it onto the grass so if it does anything stupid you won't get hurt. Ready?"
Jen nodded, then opened her palm and tipped it sideways. The coin tumbled through the air then landed in the short grass.
Bone Slicer went nuts.
SPY
The warm wooden handle, usually a comfort and delight to hold, smoldered as the temperature rose dangerously high. The runes blinked in a manic, stuttering display of displeasure as they burst into frantic life as though sending a signal via code.
Bone Slicer twisted and turned in my grip, trying to escape, but I held tight even as the wood grew ever hotter. Would he burst into flames? Wouldn't be much use as a knife without a handle, so I didn't think so.
"What's it doing?" asked Jen, eyes wide, standing well away from the swishing knife.
"I don't know, but I wish it would stop. It's going to yank my arm from the socket if it carries on like this." I tensed, forced the knife to my side, and told it, "Stop screwing around. Be still. Behave. Cool it." My words were full of intent that I would leave him, lock him away if he didn't do as I asked, and I felt the power I had within, almost like I was uttering a whisper, and Bone Slicer responded accordingly. The wood stopped smoking, the forces he was exerting vanished, until all that remained of his fear were the dancing runes.
"Guess that worked," said Jen. "What's happening now?"
"It's calming itself, I think. But it feels wrong. Scared, worried, panicked, not sure, but it's far from over." With Bone Slicer hanging limp by my side, I was able to relax a little too. The tension in my arm eased, my jaw hung slack, and I rolled my shoulders to ease the knots that had formed as I strained against his will.
"Dad!"
Jen pointed at the coin nestled in the grass. It was vibrating like a jumping bean. As we bent and peered closer, the sun glinted off the faded image on the coin and it shot up and clung, with a dull metallic clang, to Bone Slicer like a limpet.
"What the hell?" In the panic, I almost dropped the knife, but tightened my grip as a peculiar sensation overtook my senses. I was connected to my knife, far into foreign territory where our bond was deeper than ever. Bone Slicer was scared, as if caught in a lie and worried what I might say or do. It was also cut off somehow, as though blinded.
An internal scream of despair raced up my arm into my head as my fingers spasmed. All strength was lost and I dropped the knife.
Bone Slicer impaled himself into the grass and remained there, with the gold coin still stuck to the steel just below the hilt. Covering several runes that now strobed a dull, sickly yellow as though sapped of power by the coin.
"What the hell is going on?" I wondered, crouching beside my inquisitive daughter who was already, despite my warnings, right beside the knife and peering at it.
"It's like the coin wants to hide something. Cover it up," Jen said as she reached out to touch it.
"Careful."
"I think it's okay. It feels okay. Do you get that impression?"
"I do," I agreed. "I know this sounds daft, but it's like Bone Slicer is sighing with relief. Damn, that sounds stupid. He was afraid, but is relaxed, and calmer now. He seems resigned."
"You get all that from the knife? That's crazy. Do you guys, you know, talk to each other?"
"Not exactly. But the longer I've had it, the more I seem to be able to read its feelings. Although a knife with feelings isn't quite right. I think it's sentient, smart, but so alien we can't just have a conversation. I pick up on things though, and I'm getting feelings inside that are coming from him. He's worried, and scared, but resigned and relieved too. Like something has finally come to a head and he's grateful it will be over soon. Ha, sounds mad."
"No it doesn't. If you're getting all that, then it's true. But what does it all mean?"
"I have no idea."
Jen reached out and tried to remove the coin. "It's stuck fast. Like it's glued on. I can't budge it." Jen tried getting her nail under the coin and prizing it off, but there was zero movement.
"Why would a coin do this?" I mused. "Maybe they're enemies? I can't imagine a dwarf and an elf getting on very well. But these are objects, not alive like we all are. Are you picking anything up from the coin? Is it telling you anything?"
"Dad, do you know how nutty that sounds?"
"About as bonkers as me talking to my knife?" I said with a smile. "Just try. Because one thing's for sure, this is no normal coin."
Jen nodded, then pinched the coin and let herself relax. Her eyes half closed as she sank into that special place she'd learned to surrender to when whispering, and I watched as her breathing slowed and her aura shone pure and bright.
While she deepened her focus, I studied the knife and coin. There was a symbiosis of sorts occurring. The runes were now the color of the coin, and as the elven markings throbbed slowly, so did the coin. Had Shey Redgold given the coin to Jen because he knew something like this would happen, or had he merely felt that it belonged to her?
Bone Slicer appeared relaxed, resigned, yet still like a coiled spring waiting to unleash his murderous power when needed. Just what was going on with this thing? Exactly how intelligent was my knife?
"Ugh, I got nothing," complained Jen as she snapped back to the present and opened her eyes.
"Okay, let's take it inside and get a better look at this. It's too bright out here so it'll be easier at the kitchen table." I yanked Bone Slicer from the earth and we headed inside to the kitchen where I placed him on the table with the coin facing up.
I tried, just as Jen had, to dislodge the coin, but it truly was stuck fast. Something was holding it in place, but what? And why?
"I'm gonna get the magnifying glass," said Jen as she skipped over to the drawers and rummaged around.
"You seem very happy about this," I told her.
"It's exciting. Nothing ever happens around here. Stuff like this is cool." Jen dropped into the chair next to me and peered at me through the magnifying glass.
"Nothing ever happens? Are you serious? You've been alone for days, we just had a mad adventure in the dwarven realm, and you got a gold coin. That's not nothing."
"You know what I mean."
I truly didn't.
"Let's take a look at this." Jen peered through the magnifying glass so I pulled out my glasses and finally got a proper look at it. The markings on the coin were so worn and faint it was hard to tell what they had been, but it was definitely the head of a dwarf, that much I could make out. It was slightly off from aligned vertically with the knife, with the faintest of ridges around the edge, but that was about it. The coin seemed to be covering the topmost rune just below the hilt, but there was no sign of anything else that could explain the attraction the coin had for the steel.
