Chapter 251: Fracture LVI
All manner of terrible ruminations raced through my mind as the door handle turned. The simplest was that the Lithid had only feigned death and sohow used the lapse of attention from those focused on the recovery effort to follow ho. My second thought—arguably far worse—was that perhaps the victory was too simple to be real. The monster wielded fantasy like a blade, and what better fantasy than leading one's army against a great evil with few casualties?
Sothing about it felt too easy. Not necessarily the fight itself, but the Lithid's utter lack of preparation. It was a lair-monster, and most intelligent lair creatures I encountered spared no effort establishing a series of collapsing traps and chokepoints to defend otherwise vulnerable dens. They picked their battles craftily and displayed utter mastery of their terrain.
By comparison, other than using the foul air as a defense against certain types of magic, the Lithid seed more displaced than anything else. Almost transitory. As if, despite all evidence pointing otherwise—including the small mountain of corpses that were still, at this very mont, being recovered—it hadn't dwelled in the sewer for very long at all.
Realistically, if we were wrong—if its vacations on the surface were far more frequent and mobile than we'd realized—infiltrating the palace and attempting to assassinate the commander of the regint that had just laid its ho and provisions to waste was a logical course of action.
Unfortunately, my sword was a room away. Even if I did fancy the idea of sounding the alarm as I gallivanted bare-assed across the castle grounds, the bathroom window always stuck stubbornly, giving whatever was about to enter ample warning and opportunity to strike.
I slipped out of the tub, the slick tread of my feet betraying against the cool marble. Swearing silently, I recovered, stalking towards the hinge side of the door. The many soaps and oils the staff used were overpowering to my tired senses, but even so, the scent of sulphur cut through—clear as a warning bell.
Can't run. Guards won't hear . Alten's off princess detail but aiding with the recovery. Conflict is inevitable, but if it captures again, that's it. I have to strike quickly, use surprise to my advantage and flee. But with what?
The rinse bucket I'd been so thoroughly assailed with still sat overturned near the grate in the center of the room. It wouldn't go far in a struggle, but it was made of tal, sturdy enough that the maids frequently flipped it over and used it as a stool. Swung or thrown hard enough, it might buy enough ti to retrieve my weapon and call for help.
I picked it straight up, careful not to let the edges touch the ground, and pressed myself against the wall, holding my breath even as the cold stone chilled terribly.
A figure wreathed in shadow stepped inside.
Muscles screaming, I swung the handle of the bucket with all my strength, directly at the top of the shadow. The reaction was imdiate. Instead of dodging or absorbing the blow, a black blade sliced through the air and, with the sound of rending tal, cleaved the bucket in two. Sobering.
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But it also implied that, even for a second, the thing wasn't looking at at all.
I lowered my shoulder and tackled it artlessly, intending to use the distraction to brute force my way through any obstacle. It gave so but never yielded, instead, exerting sudden overwhelming pressure on my shoulders attempting to counter my montum and shove face first down into the floor. I whipped away, barely avoiding the reversal, and backpedaled across the room as balance left . My bare back collided with the mirror, sending a long fissure spider-webbing to either side. Warm blood dripped from the resulting gash as I lashed out for balance, overturning a pitcher filled with boiling water that hissed as it poured over the heated stones, filling the air with thickening mist.
A tendril of darkness slashed an X through the mist, creating an opening. The figure stepped through it. As it approached, the wreath of shadow that covered its face receded, revealing violet features that were imdiately familiar. "Has there not been enough conquest for the day, Ni'lend?"
I forced myself to relax, though the smile was slow to co, and it took considerable effort to pry my own fingers off the pitcher's handle as I set it down. "Apologies, for the bucket."
"Apologies to the bucket. I get the impression I've startled you from rest." She murmured. Her eyes scanned up and down only once before coming to rest on my face.
There was sothing different about her. Sothing difficult to place. It wasn't the attire, though the dark flowing slip she wore that shimred in the mana-light was certainly pleasing to the eye. It was her air. The gentle gravity of her presence. Typically Maya comported herself with seemingly effortless confidence around nobles in public, all wit and charm, but observing the way she sort of deflated afterward, shrunk into herself once she was away from watchful eyes, revealed it to be not so effortless after all.
I caught a glimpse of her as she circled behind and used a flash of life magic to nd the cut on my back. Her light eyes danced with amusent and sothing else—she carried herself with the sa confidence she displayed when addressing a room full of nobles. Only there was no audience left to witness it.
"You often catch off-guard. It's one of your many charms. Is everything alright?" Suddenly very aware of my nudity, I reached for the towel beside the heated rocks. To my surprise, a small tendril of shadow stopped , wrapping around my wrist in a similar manner to the way her tail moved.
"It is." She cocked her head, glancing towards the steaming pool. "Don't stop on my account. Only a monster would deny a man his bath after what we just went through."
I snorted. "So you can ogle as I lounge? How scandalous."
"Then we shall ogle equally." Maya turned her back on and ascended the quartet of stairs. With every step, the dark slip she wore dissipated, her violet coloring aubergine in the soft light, the fading white scars that accented her skin growing more nurous until every curve and line of her was on full display, the cruelly fleeting mont fading as she sunk down into the water, careful to keep the dark braid of her hair over the side. I realized I'd been standing there, dumbstruck, for entirely too long. "Do you intend to join ?"
"Ah. Yes." I swallowed, not used to being so easily flustered. Still, I managed to move, and with effort, quickly followed after her. By the rcy of the gods, she was kind enough not to openly stare as I stepped into the tub, drawing her knees to her chest and hugging them as I settled in.
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