Macronomicon
patreon
Chapter 142: Downtime
🕑 Added 2019-04-28 11:02:52 +0000 UTC***Alicia***
Alicia was sitting in Maggies sitting room, where her aunt was enjoying some afternoon tea, sunlight streaming in through the large windows and landing on her shoulder.
Why didnt you warn me you were going to try to kill Edward? Alicia paused for a moment. Actually why do you want to kill him at all? I thought you wanted the secret of magic.
Maggie heaved a sigh, gazing out into the brilliant green garden. The detective was right. The boy or whatever he is is too dangerous to let live. Every day he lives, he grows his roots, costing us money. I sent a few boys up to his Red Fern and they came back with broken legs. I lost eighteen professionals last week, and we dont have the resources to continue playing with him.
Maggie shrugged, her full breasts shifting in her dress as she did so.
I decided to cut our losses in the most certain way possible.
Well it didnt work. I dont remember exactly what happened, but finding our crownkiller in the dirt was a dead giveaway that one of us tried to kill him.
In the dirt? Kyle said he shot the boy in the heart. Interesting. Maybe that bolt would mean something to a Denton, but to the rest of the world, it means that the Prima Regula tried to kill him. The rebel group wont bother trying to deny attacking him, theyll simply finish the job.
And youre sure about that? Alicia asked.
Ive made arrangements. Maggie said with a smile before shifting in her chair. On another topic I think we can celebrate: your birthday is approaching! A month from now well take you to the palace and get you your class. Have you decided what role you want to play, dear? Perhaps a demagogue like your aunt Maggie? I know how much trouble you have at public speaking. A class like that would clear things up right away.
Benedette is already good enough with her mouth. I was thinking something that would allow me to defend myself. Swiftblade, maybe.
Hm. A bit of an uninspired choice. Maggie shrugged, her mouth pursed in disdain as she reached down and grabbed a folded piece of paper out of her purse.
Well, in any case, I got you this. Happy birthday.
Alicia took the paper from her aunts hand, frowning.
Is it some kind of deed to a property? Aunt Maggie doesnt send out well-wishes either Maybe instructions for a job?
As Alicia opened the paper, the reality turned out to be none of the above. In bright crimson ink with a pebbled texture was the number 88.
Eighty eight? Alicia asked, glancing up at her aunt.
Maggies expression turned predatory.
So, how far have you gotten extracting the secret of magic from the boy? He seems to favor you.
Alicia glanced back down at the odd piece of paper, and noticed on second glance the strange squirming of a small portion of the crimson numbers.
Mana, turning a 33 into an 88. Damnit. It was a simple test to out my Mana Sight. Her aunt must have had it smuggled out of the local church.
Alicia scowled, crumpling the paper up and tossing it aside. She didnt have anything to gain from continuing to lie to her aunt.
He showed me how to get Mana Sight, but its not something we can reproduce easily. An overdose on unpurified heartstones with high clarity and smooth, spherical shape. My heart stopped twice, apparently.
I see. Maggie said, lacing her fingers together. And have you learned any magic?
He made some mana that was easier for me to manipulate, but Im still far from using it. Now because her aunt was dead set on killing Edward, she may never get the opportunity to learn how to cast spells anything like what shed seen him doing.
What on earth was that strange blue beam coming from his arm, and how in Kolaths name did he survive that fight? If Alicia could harness a fraction of that power, shed be the undisputed First Chair, and the Dentons might even marry into Royalty.
Seeing Edwards maimed body splattered against the standing stone gave her the dread feeling that her aunt had engaged something beyond her ken.
Is it possible to cancel the plan to kill Edward? Alicia asked. If I were left without a teacher, it would take years before I could do the simplest spells.
Then take them. Maggie said, her voice stern. Hes been far too disruptive to let him live. The sheer attitude of that boy leaves me no choice.
Alicia glanced down at her aunts breasts. Are you just sore that he pierced your nipples? Cutting adamantium rings out couldnt have been comfortable, but I cant see Maggie tolerating something like that for an instant.
Alicia watched her aunts hand flash out with the strength of a noble, and didnt dodge, turning her cheekbone into the blow. Maggie had great strength, but her class ensured it was barely superhuman.
It barely stang.
Get everything you can out of him in the next week, Alicia, because hes not going to live much longer than that.
You really have a way of pissing people off, Edward.
***Garth***
Garth took a huge, sticky bite out of his candied apple as they walked down the street. Unfortunately glass wasnt so common that they could grab some drinks and take them with them to the pits, so they had to settle for whatever was for sale there.
I hope they have good cider.
So, Tad. Garth said, rummaging in his Status Band and pulling an adamantium bolt out. Do you know where these come from?
Tad glanced over and his eyes widened for a second and he coughed out a chunk of roast hare, before his eyes returned to their usual half lidded state and his voice went flat.
Put that away. He said, not looking directly at Garth and taking another bite of his skewer.
Why?
Possessing one is punishable by death.
Ah, Garth put it back in the Status Band. Frigging thing only had two cubic feet of space. Couldnt store much more than a change of clothes in there, and it barely accommodated the solid lump of adamantium thatd been shot into his chest.
Tad didnt remember Garth getting shot by it due to a huge dose of rohypnol right around that point scrubbing his long term memory, so now he needed to give the guy a story he might believe.
Ah, well, someone tried to shot me with it, but missed. I thought Id keep it, because thats a lot of money sitting there.
Not enough to die for, Im sure.
Eh. Garth shrugged. Ive died for less.
Tad glanced at him with a raised brow.
So whys it illegal to have one?
Theyre used by the Tad lowered his voice. Prima Regula, to assassinate royalty.
Oh, alright. Guess I can ask them where it came from, then. I sincerely doubt it was Linda or whoever she is. Ask the baker for the first order of the day, huh?
Well, forget about it, lets just focus on having a good time at the Pits.
As long as you dont start waving your adamantium rod around in public like an idiot. Tad said as they turned the corner, the food vendors around them slowly morphing into souvenirs and wooden action figures.
Nice one. Garth chuckled as they approached the massive stone building that had young men and women streaming out of it non-stop.
The entrance was an enormous looming arch holding up the two-story behemoth, looking like poured concrete. It was a squat building painted a reflective ivory. Garth spotted some sunlight leaking in from beyond the entrance, so he guessed it was at least partially open-roofed.
There were signs that read:
Competitors
Spectators
The competitors sign was on the left, where the entrance led downward at a gentle slope, and the spectator sign was on the right, where the stone ramp led upward, and a little sunlight from outside spilled through. Thats where most of the young people were coming from.
There was an aging woman in light clothes sitting behind a desk at the entrance who stopped Garth as he approached.
Are you boys here to fight or spectate?
You take amateurs? Garth asked.
Sometimes boys want to settle a dispute on the sand, and we get to watch. Usually the winner walks out with the purse. Everyone wins.
How much is the purse? Garth asked.
For someone like you? She asked, looking him up and down. A hundred credits.
Huh. Somehow I feel undervalued. Were not here to blow your minds with our martial prowess though, were here to Garth glanced over his shoulder and saw Tad some ten feet away, pale and staring at the gate.
Be right back.
The old woman waved Garth off dismissively as he turned away, welcoming the next people in line, who paid her with experienced speed and walked up the ramp to the spectator level.
Garth sidled up next to Tad, who was still staring at the entrance, his jaw hanging open and sweat beading on the side of his temple.
Whats up?
I just remembered, Ive still got to do some things at home. I can come back later. The entire time Tad spoke, his eyes were glued to the entrance. His hands were clenched into fists and the vein on the side of his temple was beating double-time.
It looked like nothing more than an anxiety attack.
Garth followed his gaze to the gate, and didnt see anything.
Clarion Call.
Whats really going on? Maybe I can help. Garth laced his words with mana, making them more persuasive. Simply asking someone what was going on one time wouldnt typically cut to the heart of the matter, but Clarion Call forced them to seriously consider his words.
I ahh.. Tad finally glanced at him. I think I might be dead.
Garth blinked.
Care to elaborate? He took another bite of his candy apple.
The Gate to the underworld kinda looks like that. What if when I go through there, I find myself being judged by the gods, or worse yet, face to face with a wiretaps dead eyes as it sucks out my innards?
Garth considered Tad for a moment, tapping his candy apple stick with his fingers.
Tad, youve got a little PTSD. And thats okay.
Whats PeeTeeEsDee?
Its like a wound to the mind that people who risk their lives tend to get.
A wound to the mind?
Yep, Garth said, cleaning his fingers and tossing the stick aside. It usually takes about a year to mostly recover, I had a very mild case when I was in my early twenties after I nearly overdosed at a friends party.
Youre fifteen.
Shut up. Point is, I did some research and homebrewed a few remedies. I assume this is spider related?
Yes.
Alright, Garth said, rubbing his hands together. Two easy things that can help are exercise and sharing lots of surface area with someone who likes you. Both of those things help restabilize an overactive amygdala. Assuming we still have them.
So Tad asked glancing at Garth sideways.
Plans changed. Lets get in there and get you a girlfriend!
How is that plan different? Tad asked.
Eh, Garth shrugged. Now were more focused on you. Its a nice opportunity to forget about my problems for a day and focus on something easy.
Getting me a girlfriend is easy?
Im pretty fucking good at getting other people laid. A guy named Brian did me a solid and I later got photographic evidence of a foursome I was directly responsible for.
Oh, how did you do it?
Less questions, more going through that door. Thats step one. Garth pointed at the arch leading into the Pits.
Umm
Alright, I have an idea. Garth knelt down. If you ride me in there, maybe itll be easier on you mentally. You can steer me with my ears. Whaddya think?
I dont think so, Ed. Tad said, shaking his head.
Hmm sorry.
Garth picked Tad up and threw him thirty feet, landing him through the entrance and halfway up the ramp leading to the second story.
Two please, Garth said, handing the bemused gatekeeper a hundred credit coin. Keep the change.
Agh, Tad sputtered as he stood up, spitting out ramp-dust. Garth caught him by his shirt and dragged him into the second story of the fighting pits.
So, feel dead? Garth asked, glancing up at the blue sky above them.
The Fighting pits were an interesting invention, kind of a cross between an open-air mall and a colosseum. The second floor wound around several smaller pits where one-on one and small group amateur fights happened. Outside the walkways and benches surrounding the pits were vendors selling every manner of refreshment in skimpy outfits.
No, I feel like you tossed me. Tad said, brushing the dust off his arms.
Youre tough. You can take it.
Tad turned toward a vendor, a large breasted woman in a low cut shirt handing out refreshments in echange for cold hard cash.
Beer. Tad said, putting a coin down.
Lemonade. Garth said, following suit.
Their money was swiftly replaced with a stein of beer and a cold lemonade.
Garth snatched the beer out of Tads hand and shoved the lemonade into it.
Youve got PTSD. No beer for you. Plus youre a teenager.
Garth could swear he heard Tad growling as he downed the teens drink.
The two of them idled through the crowds that were teeming with people their age, drifting along with the rest of the crowd and eventually finding their way to the largest pit, a good two hundred feet across, where two teams of twenty were beating the shit out of each other with dulled swords, trying to push each other into their end zones.
It was kind of like Football crossed with Sumo Wrestling.
They dont kill each other? Garth asked.
Why would they? Tad asked, sipping his lemonade. Why would anyone fight to the death on a daily basis?
Dont they have owners who force them to fight to the death?
Sure, rarely, but people arent cheap and having a slave die in a single match is kind of a bad investment, dont you think? Tad grimaced, looking down at the team battles. Generally their job is safer than mine.
No shit. Garth watched the red team push the green team into the end zone while the teens around him cheered.
Once the green team was defeated, a whistle sounded, and the two teams limped off the field, some sporting bruises and sprained limbs, but generally alive.
Alright, lets get around to getting you a girlfriend. Whats your type? And please dont say crazy. Were looking for mental stability here.
Brown hair, dark skin. Kind. Tad said, his voice quiet.
Alright, Garth scanned the crowd and spotted a girl with three friends chatting as the cleaners scraped the clumped up blood out of the sand between matches.
She had dark skin and long brown hair. She had a slender frame and wore a red blouse over her modest breasts.
How about her? Garth asked, pointing before glancing back at Tad.
Tad was busily avoiding eye contact and shuffling away from him.
What the hell, Garth demanded, dragging Tad back. All right, lets go talk to that girl. If that doesnt pan out, well talk to another, and another, until you have a girlfriend.
Thats I cant do that. Tad said, shaking his head.
Garth sighed internally.
Lets put it this way: Which is worse, a girl you dont know laughing at you or getting eaten by giant spiders?
Probably the girl laughing at me. Tad said.
Are you serious!? Garth demanded. Stop, take a deep breath and rethink on my question, or I will end you.
Tad hesitated. Probably the spiders.
Right, and you face that on a regular basis. This should be easy.
These are two different things.
I thought you didnt want to die a virgin? Garth asked.
I dont, its just Tad held his hands up, gesturing toward the small knot of girls. I dont know what to do.
Getting a date on a cold open is a numbers game. You just talk to girl after girl until one of them decides to give you a chance. I saw a guy get turned down like twenty times on a streetcorner. He got a date in ten minutes.
Is that how you do it? Tad asked, his eyes wide.
Hell no. I pick one girl and stick with her.
Then why are you trying to make me do something you dont do!?
Cuz its fun. Garth gave him a grin, and Tad buried his face in his hands.
Oh gods.
All right, you are going to go over and talk to that girl, or I will get upset.
I dont even know what to say.
Me neither, Im sure youll figure it out after you get laughed at a couple dozen times. Maybe lead with Hi, Im Tad Williams and I fight giant spiders for a living.
Youre really going to make me do this? Tad said.
Nope. You can totally puss out if you want. Give your first time to a wiretap, I guess.
Gah.
Just keep in mind girls are people too, not some strange alien creature. They generally like boys too. Shes not gonna hurt you physically.
Fine. Tad said before marching stiffly toward the small group of girls.
Once Tad was gone, Garth noticed the crowd around them growing more agitated by the second, staring down into the arena.
Ladies and gentlemeeen! Came a loud voice as a fat man walked out of one of the four entrances. The man had some kind of microphone with a gemstone studded in the center. A Mcdonnell invention?
A kernel of an idea was forming in Garths mind.
Welcome to the main event! The fight youve all been waiting for!
From the north, raised by bears, with no concept of mercy, five hundred pounds of skull crushing muscle! Hes been undefeated in the last five years The Savage!
At his gesture, a nearly seven foot tall man strutted out of the entrance, wearing a bear skin over his shoulders.
He stepped into the center of the arena and tore the bear skin off his shoulders, revealing a heavily muscled frame, spinning and holding his hands up.
Once the cheering died down, the announcer introduced the next fighter.
From the South, a fighter who honed his skills for years chewing up the competition. He lost a close match a year ago to The Savage, and this contender has been itching for payback. Its Bloodstoooorm!
The crowd went wild again as another man, slightly smaller, but significantly more well defined, walked into the center of the arena and snatched the microphone out of the announcers hand.
Savage, you got lucky last year, and when Im done with you this time, youre going to be nothing but a stain on the sand.
Garth sighed and put his elbow on the railing. It made sense, fighting and drama? There was a reason why wrestling was so popular despite being so blatantly fake. Although the snatching the mic part gives me an idea.
Garth watched them posture for a moment longer before Tad returned, looking a bit shaken.
Howd it go?
She laughed me off. Tad said with a shrug.
How do you feel?
Honestly It wasnt that bad. He shrugged. You were right. Its nowhere near as bad as going into a live web.
Im glad you think so, because this next parts gonna be really embarrassing for you.
Garth grabbed Tads wrist and jumped into the arena, snatching the mic from the announcer who had been about to leave the ring.
And making their first appearance tonight. From the East, Garth stage shouted into the mic. Your great, great, granddaddy, the man with the plan, The Ancient Criminal! And with him, spider hunter extraordinaire, death defying hardass, Motherfucking Tad Willllliiiiams!
Ed, what the fuck!? Tad shouted as Garth raised his arm.
***
He looks pretty spry for getting a bolt to the heart. Benedette muttered as she watched the show take a turn for the bizarre. Her date didnt hear her over the screaming. She glanced over at her contact, a third of the way around the edge of the arena, a thin old woman with pure white hair. Something about the scene gave her pause.
Benedettes contact in the Prima Regula was wholeheartedly grinning as Edward launched into a speech about Tads cock and how amazing it was. Shed never seen the woman smile. Ever.
Theyd already exchanged status bands and confirmed the contents, so there was no need to hang around any longer, but the woman whod never cast an eye toward the fights before seemed to be nostalgic?
Comments
Wesley Fan
no way thats his bitch though right?
Kemizle
I wonder who the old woman is from the past
