Chapter 2: Part 6 - The Viper

As soon as they reached Timberline Falls, Jean felt as though he could breathe more easily. It wasn’t just a relief to be out of the piercing cold further north; he finally felt as though they were making progress.

Progress that had been bought by Marissa’s interrogation of the asura, Floxx. Jean kept reminding himself of that, just so he wouldn’t get too comfortable. He couldn’t excuse the way Marissa had acted – but in one respect, she’d been right. Yinn had manipulated them from the start. Reaching Timberline Falls felt like finally getting a step ahead.

Which meant it was something of a surprise to find they weren’t the only ones that had come south.

They bypassed the norn village at the foot of the pass, loud with the raucous sounds of singing and drinking – much to Oska’s disappointment.

“Aren’t you a little young for that?” Jean asked, as he noticed his cousin looking longingly up the slope.

“If I’m old enough for this game,” Oska replied, “I’m old enough to drink.”

Jean couldn’t really argue with that.

Marissa wasn’t in the mood for merriment, though; Jean didn’t think any of them were. Instead, they headed south, the land gradually flattening out into a wide green valley, with a lazy river in the bottom.

“I think that’s a hylek village down there,” Oska said, pointing into the distance. Marissa looked that way, then turned north-east instead, choosing a path down to the water.

“We’ll keep out of sight until we have another lead,” she said, and no-one disagreed. Dusk was falling rapidly, blue-grey light settling softly across the land. Better if, for one more night at least, they kept their heads down.

Except, as they got closer to the river, they were greeted by the smell of smoke.

“A campfire,” Auri said dreamily. She raised one hand, and even at a distance, Jean could see the flames leap in response.

Oska, unusually tense, slapped her hand back down. “Don’t, Auri. This isn’t the time for games.”

Marissa looked over her shoulder at him. “What is it, Oska–?”

Oska didn’t get chance to respond. A figure melted out of the darkness ahead of them, visible only as a silhouette against the firelight. Jean bit down on a yelp, drawing his sceptre in a rush.

“You can try and take me, if you want,” the stranger said, sounding amused, “but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Marissa made a chopping gesture, telling Jean to stand down. She, unlike the rest of them, hadn’t drawn a weapon. “You were in Rata Sum,” she said. Her head tilted a little, as though she was listening to the darkness around them.

The stranger gave a short laugh. “If you’re looking for the rest of my team, I wouldn’t bother. I seem to have… misplaced them.”

“Misplaced?” Jean asked. He swung his sceptre once, making it clear he was prepared to use it, then returned it to his belt.

“They turned out to be less capable than I expected. I never even had a chance to use their corpses – the last team we ran into spared their lives. Pity, really. That was the only way they were ever going to be worth my time.”

“Which team was that?” Jean asked, but the necromancer ignored him.

“Well, there’s no point standing out here in the dark. Will you join me at my fire?” he spoke directly to Marissa; Jean had a feeling he knew exactly who they were, and who was in charge.

He also had a feeling Marissa was smiling as she said, “We’d be glad to.”

As they settled in around the campfire, the necromancer finally introduced himself. “Yelazar,” he said, then paused as though on the verge of adding something, before changing his mind. “I am, to my knowledge, the only individual in Yinn’s game competing alone.”

Jean found himself sitting directly opposite Yelazar, the firelight casting stark shadows under the man’s cheekbones. It gave him a skeletal look – appropriately enough, for a necromancer – which did nothing to ease Jean’s distrust. He wasn’t sure what he disliked about the man – they’d barely exchanged a dozen words – but it was a feeling he couldn’t shake.

“You can’t possibly think you’re going to win alone,” Jean said, making sure his voice carried. It felt a little like poking a viper with a stick, but Yelazar’s reply was mild enough.

“Of course not,” he said. “But I’m not the only one here, am I? My teammates proved unworthy, but that doesn’t mean I have no interest in allies.”

His gaze flicked sideways, to where Marissa sat. She saw the look, of course – that wasn’t the sort of thing she’d miss – and smiled.

“What makes you think,” Marissa said, softly and a little mockingly, “we’d have any interest in allying with you?”

Jean sucked in a breath. If he’d poked the viper, his sister had positively kicked it. Yelazar seemed to have expected such a reception, though.

“You asked which team I faced,” he said, looking back at Jean. There was a challenge in those dark eyes, and it made Jean shudder. “It was the Nageling Marauders. They’re a skilled bunch – I’ll give them that much. The rest of my team fell, and the Marauders didn’t seem inclined to grant me a second chance.”

“But you escaped,” Marissa said. She sounded almost dismissive – a story of fleeing from a fight wasn’t likely to impress her. Jean could see her mind working, though. Any enemy of the Marauders might well be a friend of hers.

“Call that cowardly, if you wish,” Yelazar said, and shrugged. “I prefer ‘prudent’. I pick my battles, and that wasn’t one I could win.”

Marissa’s eyes narrowed. “Then what do you think you can offer us?”

Jean didn’t hear Yelazar’s answer. He glanced left and right, to where Auri was gazing into the fire and Oska leaning back on his hands. Didn’t either of them care what was happening here? Didn’t Yelazar make their insides turn to water? Jean had worked with necromancers aplenty; their grisly techniques didn’t concern him. There was something about Yelazar that was distinctly unsettling, though – yet none of his family seemed to see it.

“Marissa.” Jean got to his feet. He had the feeling he’d interrupted Yelazar mid-sentence, but didn’t care. “A word, please.”

Marissa wasn’t used to being ordered around, but she seemed so surprised that she actually followed him away from the campfire, into the darkness beside the water. It flowed sluggishly past them in the dark, bringing slaps and gurgles to mask their words.

“Something troubling you, dear brother?” Marissa asked, only a touch impatiently.

Jean threw up his hands. “Am I the only one with eyes in my head? That necromancer is bad news. What are we doing sharing a fire with him, let alone considering him as an ally?”

“How can you be so sure I was?”

“Because you were listening to him, and you never listen to anyone but yourself unless you think you can get something out of it.”

Marissa opened her mouth to argue, then abruptly shut it again. “I see nothing of concern in Yelazar’s manner.”

“Neither do I, but…” Jean rubbed his temples, aware his voice had turned pleading. “There’s something about him that makes my skin crawl. I don’t want to listen to anything he has to say.”

“Then camp elsewhere tonight. We cannot dismiss potential allies so easily.”

Marissa started to turn away, but Jean caught her arm. “We can’t. I know that. But please, Marissa, not this ally.” He sucked in a breath, and rattled on, “You had your own way with Floxx, and you almost went too far. For once, will you please take my advice?”

Marissa was silent for a long time. Eventually, she shook off his grip, but gently. “Very well. We’ll look elsewhere for allies. We’ll camp here tonight, though. The twins need rest.”

“And Yelazar?”

“I’ll let him down gently, if that’s what you’re worried about. And if he tries anything tonight…” Marissa’s shrug was casual, but her eyes gleamed. “I suppose you won’t have any objections if I kill him.”

She strode off back to the fire, leaving Jean alone in the dark. He could hear Marissa’s smooth voice, and then Yelazar’s hoarse one, speaking in tones of disappointment. There was no argument, though, and no struggle. Eventually, the camp went quiet.

Jean let his weary legs carry him down to the river. He bent, splashing cold water on his face. He had the feeling he’d saved his family from something, but his relief was transient. This game was growing more dangerous by the day, and Yelazar… The necromancer, Jean had the feeling, was only the start of it.