Deus Necros

“Maybe. But that depends on what you have for me. It can’t be something small…”

“What do you want to know?” it asked.

“Names. The people that are causing these attacks and the reason for it,” Ludwig said. He did not blink. “Also who is the one you last locked gaze with.”

“That one’s name… I don’t know. But she told me that I’ll have a fated encounter with you… I suppose she was right.”

“A person who knows the future? Sounds unbelievable,” Ludwig said.

“Yes. Especially since she told me that you’d kill the Faceless. I didn’t think you had it in you… ah one more thing… one of her companions seems to hold you in high regards… as in he wants you to marinate more…”

“Do I look like a chicken breast to be marinated, speak proper words,” Ludwig said, irked. The chamber felt smaller after that image, as if the ceiling had dropped a thumb’s width.

“Well, you met him a couple times, they mentioned. And has an endless animosity with your master…”

“The Fanged Apostle…”

“Yes. I sensed that he hid something other than the human façade he had on him… though that man’s fear was something like what you wrote… though it was glut-”

Ludwig slammed his hand across the Manitou’s mouth. Not hard enough to break teeth. Hard enough to stop the color green from finishing its climb into the air. “There are names you can’t simply speak,” he said. “I can understand just fine.”

The shiver that ran up Ludwig’s spine felt like the Lustful Death was breathing down his neck. The instinct to look over one’s shoulder is one of the oldest in the world. He did not obey it. He felt that she was close, far too close for comfort. Thankfully he already had the ball of his foot pressed on the word he had written, smudging it into a smear that said less to anyone peering from the crack between this room and the other one behind it.

“What are you doing here?” The words did not raise their voice to be heard over stone.

Ludwig knew who it was instantly. And the fact that she was already here was proof enough of how much power she held. Power enough to make a grown man shiver. Not Ludwig though…

He stood, lowered his head, and said, “Greetings, your majesty. It should be our question to ask what a beautiful woman like you is doing in such a dangerous and damp place.” The word beautiful cost him a small piece of pride. He swallowed it without chewing. He knew the real appearance, the gargantuan ugliness that belonged to another room and another shape. He could not risk exposing her here.

“It is my palace to walk wherever I wish,” she replied. Her steps did not sound on the floor. They announced themselves in the small changes in the men around her. “I wanted to ask that man a few things…” she added, her words felt like they left no room for negotiation. But if Ludwig left her for her vices, the Manitou would probably end up consumed.

“Would you mind waiting for us to finish?” Ludwig said. “I just need a few more information regarding what he knows. The King ordered.”

“I see…” the Queen replied. “Then I shall be here. Ask away,” she said.

“You promised to take me away from here,” the man said, and locked eyes with the Queen. He had no shame borrowing trouble. He did not have much left to spend.

“I did no such thing as promise,” Ludwig said. He widened his eyes a fraction, the barest tilt of chin, a hunter’s hand-sign in a room full of people who did not speak that language. Cooperate.

“Let me ask you again,” Ludwig said. “What do you know about those… saboteurs.”

“Someone is facilitating the access of demon-kin to these lands,” the Manitou said. “I don’t know much, but all I know it’s powerful.” He took a quick glance at the Queen and that was all Ludwig needed. A glance can be a rope thrown across a canyon if you know how to catch it.

It was another Usurper. That was the stink in the seams. And it was the one Necros wanted dead. For some reason, Necros was not forcing him to kill the Queen though she stood within arm’s reach. He had ordered Ludwig to find another Usurper instead. The Witch of the Mare had spoken of that one. The Envious Death.

“I need locations,” Ludwig said. “A lead. I can’t simply walk around.”

“Even I don’t know where they’re hiding,” the Manitou answered. “The last time I found myself there was by sheer luck, or unluck. All I know is, it stinks of demons and isn’t that far from the royal capital… try north.”

The word north felt ordinary in the mouth and heavy in the ear.

Ludwig stood and turned to the Queen. “We’ll come back for more interrogation. Would you please ask your guards to keep him here. He seems to know a few things that are threatening your kingdom.”

“Then it is more reason to eliminate him…” the Queen said.

Ludwig could not simply say the Envious Death’s name and put a finger on a map. That would pull the string too hard. Maybe the Queen already knew. Maybe she was working hand in hand with the other Usurper. Or maybe she had the patience to let two enemies claw each other and bring her the pieces afterward.

“It would be unwise,” Ludwig said. “If he is hiding more things, then I’ll promise you I’ll get him to speak once I return from investigating further. Regardless, I believe that these saboteurs are trying to destabilize the region and harm your territory.” He let the last word land a touch heavier in the ear.

The Queen frowned. It moved nothing in her face for anyone who did not know what to look for. For Ludwig it was a knife sliding a finger’s width back into its sheath.

It was a standoff. She realized he knew what she is, and he realized that she knew. Neither of them had proof they could hold up to the light in this room. The mention of territory for a Usurper mattered more than courtroom words. A hand over that boundary drew answers, not oaths.

She had no reason to fully expose herself. Ludwig had not said anything that would implicate her or her origin. So she remained passive. The claws were still sharp.

“And what are you going to do, once you expose this… threat,” she asked.

“I’ll handle it…” Ludwig said.

She tapped Ludwig on the chest. Exactly at the heart. The touch was as light as a woman idly adjusting a brooch. It felt like a promise that did not bother to take words with it. “I trust you’d be able to. Just hope we don’t meet on the wrong foot, it’ll end badly for one of us,” she said.

“I understand,” Ludwig replied. He stood still until the last ripple of her presence left the doorway and the corridor found the shape it had held before she stepped into it.

He turned to the prisoner. “That should buy you some time. If I don’t find anything up north, then you have only yourself to blame.”

The Manitou said nothing. Even creatures that claim not to fear learn to keep quiet when the floor itself might be listening.

Ludwig looked to the rest of his group and made the smallest gesture with his head. They needed to leave. Air tasted better up top.

He never needed to go through all of this. He had a Shard of Darkness in hand and could use it to lead him to his Eternal Quest, which was intertwined with whatever was happening here in the kingdom of the sand. But he had to understand the full picture. A blade swung in darkness might hit the wrong neck. Now he realized something larger beneath the surface.

The Lustful Death and the Envious Death were not working together.

And the Queen, though she knew she had been found out, would rather wait for Ludwig to rid her of the Envious Death before she acted. Patience is another kind of appetite.

That was time bought. Not much. Enough to take a breath before the next dive.

Still, he was worried about one thing. The meeting with the Manitou was not a fated one. It was orchestrated. The person who told that creature he would meet Ludwig, the voice that had already spoken of the Faceless’s end, placed stones on the path and then stepped back to watch. She was probably another Apostle. One more slab of meat on the chopping block for Ludwig. The board grew crowded. The knives stayed the same.

Too many powerful enemies, and too little time. Ludwig lifted his eyes to the black ceiling, though his gaze felt like it went straight through to the night above. ’Necros, you’re literally working me to the bone aren’t you…’