Some of the most dangerous men I know are unfailingly honest, personable and generous with friends and enemies alike. Violent brutes are certainly not a rare species, nor are deceptive schemers. They are simple dangers, though, and easily planned around if you have a moment of consideration and a dash of wit. No, pity the man with reasonable enemies. His is a world of nagging disquiet, all losses beckoning with seductive rationalizations and all victories soured with guilt.

- Tasjadre Ra Novo, Jesa Sagoja: Zhetam Asade

“I still don’t see why she had to be a guy,” Jackie said, twisting to grab her cup of water.

Mark set his own back on the table. “I mean, one thing at a time,” he said. “They think of Maja as a man. I’m not saying she’s not plenty scary when she’s a lady, I just didn’t feel like pausing for a debate on gender would have improved the sheer, pants-shitting terror we were going for.”

“He has a point,” Arjun said, steepling his fingers. “Explaining Maja’s choice of form would inevitably lead into explaining her nature, and from Tesu’s reaction I don’t expect that the monks would be very receptive to hearing about that. Anything that hints at her true origin has been expurgated from their records.” He shrugged. “It’s an odd deception to fall into, but it’s better to avoid challenging them unnecessarily when their belief in Maja is what’s keeping them from returning to challenge us in turn.” He frowned. “They are staying down there, right?”

“Yeah,” Mark said. “Maja said they’re stirred up like a nest of hornets, but they’re staying put. They’ve even posted guards on the trail up to the summit - facing their own compound.”

Arjun frowned. “I suppose they’re worried about some of the more zealous among them taking matters into their own hands. That could be a potential source of problems moving forward.”

“It’s not like we won’t see them coming, though,” Jackie pointed out. “As long as they don’t come in force, we can handle a few stragglers.” Mark raised an eyebrow at her, and she rolled her eyes. “Collectively, I mean. I doubt a few soldiers from the abbey sneaking past their guards could do much against all of the gold-cloaks we have up here.”

Mark shook his head. “I really don’t want the Sjocelym coming into contact with the Aesvain. The fact that Vumo went ahead and announced Jesse as an asaarim is paying dividends for us, they expect him to pull mystical shit like this. If they knew we were keeping a bunch of Aesvain up here on their sacred mountain, though…” He looked over towards the corner where Jesse was sitting quietly with his sword balanced across his lap, eyes closed. “I don’t think his credit extends that far.”

“Yeah,” Jackie admitted. “They’d probably find a way to justify kicking us off, or at least there’d be more people willing to try. The best-case scenario here is that they just stay holed up until we’ve got everything Maja needs to go up against Eryha.”

“Which does leave us with the problem of what to do after that,” Arjun said. “Although I’m content to leave that as an issue for tomorrow, considering.”

“If saving their asses from the zombie horde doesn’t earn us enough goodwill to patch things over, then I’m not sure what will,” Mark snorted. “But yeah, we’ve got to actually live through it first. We need to focus on the immediate-term.” He slid a sheet of paper across the table, then leaned back. “I’ve been drawing up a list of what we might be able to find in Idhytse, with some helpful input from Her Glowyness.”

“Might find?” Jackie asked, frowning as she looked over the list. “Can’t she just tell us what’s there, since she’s all-seeing and stuff?”

Mark grinned and shook his head. “I asked the same question, which she didn’t seem to appreciate much. Apparently she’s got kind of a selective focus, centered on concentrations of ruud. People, sure. Active tech, sure. A bunch of inactive junk doesn’t show up on her radar, though, so she can only go by old reports or the peeks she’s been able to get from the scavengers in the city.”

“Did she say if there were many?” Arjun asked. “Our luck with local populations hasn’t been good thus far, and in this situation it seems like they may be especially lawless.”

“Yeah, I asked about that too,” Mark sighed. “She doesn’t really pay attention to degrees of lawlessness. For her, everything since the apocalypse has basically been anarchy in comparison to her baseline, from the Sjocelym right on down. She called their king a ‘local warlord.’ I thought about trying to see if Jesse could get some clearer answers out of her, but decided that the chance wasn’t worth waking him up.” He looked again at where Jesse sat motionless, breathing steadily with his eyes closed.

Jackie followed his gaze, looking thoughtful. “I wonder what they talk about,” she mused. “I mean, there’s the big stuff like what she is and how we’re all going to try and not be dead next week, but I figure they have to have smaller conversations about random things, right?”

Mark snorted. “What, like interior decorating?” he asked. “What is there to talk about with someone that lives in your head?”

“I’m not sure,” Jackie muttered, looking mildly annoyed. “But from talking with him I get the sense that their conversations go beyond just the necessary topics.”

“You think that sometimes he meditates just to chill with the magical intruder tattooed on his bones?” Mark laughed. “Come on.” Jackie didn’t respond in kind, only raising an eyebrow. Mark blinked, then looked at Jesse. “Wait, really? What did-”

He cut off at a flash of light in front of them. Maja materialized in her customary puff of orange motes at the same moment as Jesse’s eyes snapped open, turning towards the group. Everyone stood abruptly.

“What is it?” Mark asked. He looked at Jesse, who shrugged. “Trouble?”

Maja cocked her head. “Perhaps,” she said. “Someone has left the abbey and is ascending the peak.”

“Shit,” Mark cursed. “For a minute there I thought our play worked. How many are coming up?”

Maja cocked her head to the other side. “One,” she replied.

Mark stopped to share a glance with Jesse. “One?” he asked. “That sounds less like an attack and more like a negotiation.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Arjun said. “But given what we’ve seen from the Sjocelym in the past I don’t think we can necessarily write this off as less troublesome than an attack.” He paused, smiling sardonically. “How did Jyte put it? ‘They speak only sideways.’ Somehow I doubt we’ll come out on top if we go into this unprepared.”

“We’ll just have to be ready for them,” Jesse said, carefully sheathing his sword. “They’ll probably move behind the scenes, try to do something that we won’t see coming.”

“Motherfucker,” Mark said flatly. He adjusted his rifle, fingers curling around the grip. Beside him, Jesse nodded while looking dazedly down the hill.

Arjun frowned. “Quite,” he agreed. “I’ve got to say, I’m trying very hard to see the hidden danger in this and it’s just not coming to me.” A gust of wind made them wince, and when it cleared they could once again see the lone figure making his way up the hill. He was thin and tall for a Sjocelym, bald-headed with red robes. Behind him, a single-wheeled cart trundled with preternatural balance, effortlessly following in his footsteps up the rocky trail despite the man’s utter disregard for it.

“The thing I don’t get,” Jackie said, “is why he would come himself.”

None of them had an answer for that, and so they stood quietly as Vumo picked his way up the path. A few short minutes later the old scriptsmith was standing in front of them, looking winded but energetic as the cart rolled to a stop behind him.

“Well, look at this,” Vumo said, his voice still calm and deep despite his exertion. “After all this time, there are still surprises left. Asaarimyn.” He gave a basso chuckle, then shook his head. “How wonderful.”

“Vumo,” Mark said flatly. “Last time we met, your buddy Sjogydhu tried to kill us. How is he, by the way?”

“Oh, he was fine. Very irritated with you afterwards, however,” Vumo sighed. “That was part of the reason why I asked him to remain behind - the other part being that I suspect your response to seeing him coming up the trail would be abrupt, long-distance violence.”

“You know us so well,” Mark deadpanned.

“That was not what I had in mind for our meeting,” Vumo said, a hint of an edge in his voice. “Intentionally or not, you have thrown what little order remained in Tinem Sjocel into disarray. It could not come at a worse moment. The enemy’s forces draw close to Idran Saal, and we cannot afford distractions. I would like us to come to a closer alignment.”

Jackie blinked incredulously at him. “You want our help?” she asked. “Why would we help you?”

“Your accent has improved remarkably in such a short time,” Vumo observed. “And I would be foolish to rely on your goodwill or trust, after our past interactions.” He paced back to the cart, drawing a canvas cover away from its contents. “There are immediate and material things that I can grant you, as a show of good faith.”

The cart was piled high with an assortment of cloth, leather and metal plating. Vumo stepped aside so they could look. Tentatively, Jesse picked up a finely made lamellar jacket. It was immensely broad for Sjocelym armor, made to fit the bulk of someone much wider and taller than any soldier in their ranks.

“Because of your unique stature, the armor we had made for you is only an inconveniently expensive curiosity to us. I have all four sets with me here, as well as more standard fits for Gusje Ry and Tasja Ras.” He peered up at the Sanctum, then looked at Jesse. “I had expected to see them here, actually. Are they both well? And Tesu Ras, that unfortunate man, how is he?”

“Oh, they’re all fine,” Mark said, looming over Vumo a little bit. “How do we know this isn’t all some sort of elaborate trap, that this armor won’t suck the life out of us or put us all to sleep if we put it on? You’re too sneaky to trust, Vumo. Part of me says that our lives would get a lot simpler if we plopped you in your cart and pushed the whole mess off the side of the mountain.”

Vumo smiled placidly back at him. “I had hoped to demonstrate my sincere desire for a dialog by coming alone,” he said, “and the armor is entirely safe. Masterful, actually. But if my gestures are not sufficient to stall your violent impulses then by all means kill me.” His eyes narrowed, and his voice lost any warmth it had carried.

“Sjogydhu Qa is below, at the garrison abbey. They have somehow fallen under the impression that Maja is assisting an asaarim in an extraordinary feat, a task verging on the miraculous that they must not interfere with. It is an idea that neither of us has bothered to contradict. Should I fail to return, however, he is under orders to inform them that the asaarim intends to destroy Maja, and that you took the mountain by force with a secret army of Aesvain insurrectionists.”

Arjun’s eyes narrowed. “That’s quite a bold lie,” he said. “Do you think they’ll believe it?”

Vumo shrugged, although his face was too strained to pretend nonchalance. “Enough will,” he said. “Enough to force you to bring out the Aesvain soldiers you undoubtedly have tucked away somewhere, and then the rest will believe it. More of us will be pulled in, from Ce Raedhil or from the front if necessary - because what good is it to save Tinem Sjocel from the Emperor of Ash if we cannot protect Maja? No, we will destroy you and likely fall to ruin ourselves.”

He looked at each of them in turn, then let the grim expression fade from his face. “Or we could go inside and talk, and see if we can’t find a path through this mess.”

Mark gave him an evaluating look, then traded glances with the others. “Well,” he said, “I suppose we could talk a bit.”

Vumo smiled thinly and took a step forward, only to stop as Mark thrust a hand in front of him.

“I want one thing clear, though,” Mark said. “You fuck us on this and I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to give you to the Aesvain. There’s a few of them that are real big admirers of scriptsmiths in general and you in particular.”

“How… gratifying,” Vumo said, sidestepping Mark’s hand and continuing toward the Sanctum. His cart creaked forward after him, and silently the group fell into a line heading towards the imposing stone edifice up the hill.

Vumo craned his neck back to take in the high ceilings of the entry hall, an unrestrained smile on his face. “Marvelous,” he said. “You know, I should be thanking you for this alone. The garrison abbey has never let anyone but their own ascend the peak, at least not until you gave them a problem they had no means to deal with. I had resigned myself to never seeing Maja’s seat.”

“We’ll add it to the favors you owe us,” Mark said, stopping beside one of the tables the Sjocelym guards had used and swiping his hand over the rough wooden surface. “This will work, there’s enough benches around.”

Arjun surveyed the table with a frown, then looked back towards the hallway. “Actually,” he said, switching to English, “we should postpone just a bit. Since our guest has already deduced that we have the Aesvain here, we should include Jyte in the discussion.”

“You sure that’s a good idea, doc?” Mark asked, scratching his head. “I had planned on making that introduction if we decided we wanted Vumo dead, since that’s pretty much how I imagine it’ll go.”

“And what do you think his reaction would be if he found out we met with the head of the scriptsmiths and didn’t include him?” Arjun raised an eyebrow. “I can go get him, and Gusje for the Cereinem. I won’t be more than a moment.”

Mark nodded, and Vumo sat down at the table without waiting for the others to join him.

“I presume he left to fetch the Aesvain commander?” Vumo said. “I caught the name Jyte as he was speaking, I seem to recall that was the name of the man leading the refugees at Sjatel.”

“Do you always keep such close tabs on the people you leave for dead?” Jackie asked.

Vumo turned towards her and blinked slowly. “We did some reconnaissance to see if we could fit the refugees in our existing facilities,” he said. “Unfortunately, there were too many.”

“We’ve seen those facilities,” Jackie said. “We weren’t impressed.”

“We are facing an imminent threat to our survival,” Vumo replied. “There were those who argued for keeping the Aesvain out entirely, but Citsuje Di is something of an idealist and insisted on sparing what we could - without compromising our ability to defend the border.” He sighed, looking around the room. “I expect that the Aesvain will want to continue the conversation along these lines, I was hoping for a more constructive choice of topic. Perhaps you could entice Maja to the table as well?”

Jackie snorted in disgust, and Mark sat down across from Vumo with an unfriendly grin. “That’s something you want that we have,” he said. “Sounds like a point of negotiation, and it can wait until Arjun and Jyte are back.”

“If you insist,” Vumo sighed. “But remember that we’re on a time limit here, if you intend to bleed me for every minor concession there’s a chance I might not make it down in time to prevent this from ending unpleasantly.”

“Or you’ll not make it down the mountain at all,” Jyte’s voice boomed, followed by the weighty clank of his armor as he strode towards them with Arjun close on his heels. Gusje brought up the rear, looking worriedly after Jyte as he stormed forward.

“You must be Jyte,” Vumo said pleasantly, standing from the table to greet him. The Aesvain captain stalked close, standing mere inches away from Vumo’s face. For his part, the scriptsmith only smiled down serenely until Jyte growled and stalked away towards a bench. The wood creaked under the weight of his armor, neatly masking Arjun’s sigh of relief at the unhappy but bloodless first encounter between the two leaders.

The rest followed suit, taking positions that kept the actively hostile parties apart as much as possible. “And so, here we all are,” Vumo said. “I am not naïve enough to propose that we become close allies, nor that we extend any particular trust to each other. It is enough that we acknowledge the circumstances of the moment - that we both share a common enemy, one powerful enough that fighting between us will doom both parties to utter destruction.”

“I think we can all agree that the situation is dire,” Arjun said, cutting in with a meaningful look at both Mark and Jyte. “Are you proposing simple noninterference, or did you have something else in mind?”

Vumo sighed, rubbing a hand over his bald head. “We have not yet been tested against the full might of the enemy,” he said. “My original reason for sending you to Sjatel was not a ruse, the intelligence you gathered there may prove vital to our defense of Idran Saal.”

Arjun looked around, garnering a series of mild nods from most present, a shrug from Mark and a noncommittal sneer from Jyte. “I believe we would be able to provide a report,” Arjun said. “It’s in nobody’s interest that Idran Saal is taken.” He hesitated, then shook his head. “Although I hope we’ve severely underestimated your capabilities, or knowing will do you little good.”

“We are not without resources,” Vumo said grimly. “The old world left us much, even if we do not fully understand the heights they reached - and that brings me to my second request.” He looked around the table, then back at the yawning passageway to the bowels of the Sanctum. “Based on the reports I received from the garrison abbey, it seems that you have made an ally of Maja. I had written such a thing off as impossible, but now that it is done…” His face shifted, an expression flitting across too briefly to leave an impression. “We have so much that we don’t understand, so many artifacts of great power that could be used to help in our defense. Even a few moments of conversation with her could yield immense benefits.”

There was a bemused double-take that rippled across the table as he spoke, with Jackie being the first to recover her voice. “Her?” she asked. “I don’t think any of us referred to Maja as female.”

Vumo’s smile was thin and bitter. “The general perception of Maja and the vinesavaim is very limited, both by necessity and by design. Even the learned do not question it, as I did not. Not until my greatest friend and mentor began to see a woman in his dreams, began to know things and do things that were beyond normal men.” His voice was dull and his eyes unfocused, losing the smoothness it had carried moments before.

“It was Goresje’s patronage that unlocked the doors to restricted archives, documents long buried for fear that they would prove problematic. He sought to understand what was happening to him, and though he was-” Vumo paused, collecting himself, and when he spoke again it was with his usual calm tone. “He died before we could find the full truth, but I continued on. I learned many things from scraps long-buried under sand and lies. I know of the seven sisters. I know that the asaarim are their doing.”

He looked around the table, folding his hands neatly in front of him. “I know that Qavazhe and Lysvaru were right, or at least not heretics,” he said. “That we made Maja and those like her with script and toil, the fruit of our ancestors’ labor. She is the legacy and salvation of my people. Please, let me speak with her.”

The others exchanged a glance, and Arjun cleared his throat. “Please let us discuss your request in private,” he said, his eyes flicking towards Jyte’s darkening face. “We’ll let you know if we believe we can accommodate it, as well as what we would like in return.”

Vumo nodded and stood. “Shall I go stand facing the wall?” he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“I’ll take him outside,” Jesse said, rising from his seat. “Arjun can cast my vote, if we’re voting.” He gave Arjun a subtle shake of his head, then motioned for Vumo to start walking.

The two had made it perhaps halfway to the door when the first hushed voices began to speak behind them - Jesse recognized Jyte’s discontent grumble as foremost among them. Vumo chuckled softly as he heard it, and Jesse gave him a chilly look.

“He’s angry because you’re responsible for the death of his people,” Jesse said. “Directly and indirectly. You’d make light of that?”

The scriptsmith shook his head. “I was actually thinking that I’m strangely fond of that Aesvain tendency for open and unrestrained hostility. They are an endearing people, if not necessarily the most strategic. Those deaths were a necessity, one borne by lack of resources and power on my part.” He sighed. “On the day when I can save all lives, I will. Today, I must choose where to spend my efforts.”

“And you want me to believe that your end goal is a peaceful and happy society, with Sjocelym and Aesvain living hand in hand?” Jesse asked mildly.

“Would that be so strange?” Vumo countered, stopping to face Jesse. “Am I such a twisted, evil being that I must foster suffering to be content?”

Jesse shook his head. “You can talk all you like, your actions-”

“I acted to ensure survival,” Vumo said, cutting him off with an emphatic sweep of his hand. “Those are the options here, life and death. Would you have me swaddle people only to bury them or spend some lives to ensure that others continue?”

Vumo glared up at Jesse, who met his gaze while letting his fingers drift gently over the pommel of his sword. There was the faint smell of ozone, and after a few moments Vumo shuddered and turned to walk slowly forward once more.

“Goresje had a similar trick,” he said quietly. “His eyes would look somewhere none of us could see, and for a moment the center of the world would shift.” A smile flitted over his lips. “Useful to bring meetings to order. Perhaps it is time coloring my memory, but I believe you may do it even better than he did.”

Jesse let his hand fall to his side. “What was he like?” he asked. “I feel like Goresje is everywhere I look, but I know almost nothing about him.”

Vumo’s eyes went distant. “He was a quiet man, although prone to passionate outbursts,” he said. “Unafraid of both justice and mercy. Prone to overthinking every word he spoke.” His grin broadened, and he shook his head. “He would agonize over decisions only to later pretend that they were the product of whimsy.”

A cloud passed over his expression, and the smile faded. “There had not been a king like him before, nor has there been since. Perhaps there will never be again.”

Jesse walked beside Vumo in silence as the two reached the great exterior doors to the sanctum, feeling the biting cold from outside curling in across the threshold. He unbuckled his sword and sat on the steps, holding the sheathed blade across his lap. After a few moments Vumo gingerly lowered himself down to sit nearby.

“You had a reason for volunteering to be my minder,” Vumo said. “It was more than just the desire to learn what sort of a person he was.”

Jesse hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I was wondering if you knew why he made this sword,” he said.

“Ah,” Vumo said, his face falling. “The sword. It consumed him near the end, he would skip meals and councils to sit alone in his workshop. He was tireless, fanatical, like the image of the sword was in his head and he could not rest until he had brought it out into the world.” He slouched forward, seeming to deflate.

“After he died, I found some of his journals,” Vumo said quietly. “They were disordered, rambling. I was shocked to see how far my friend’s state had deteriorated. He had always been good at projecting a face for the rest of the world to see. One thing was clear, though - he knew from the beginning.”

Vumo’s let out a short, choked laugh before turning to face Jesse again. “I should really be bargaining for this information,” he said, “but somehow I feel like he would have wanted me to tell you.” He shook his head, and his face became grim once more. “There was some agenda, some plan he was following that he wouldn’t share, not even with me. From the beginning, from the first hammerstroke against that blade, he forged it knowing that he would die upon it.”

The wind whistled by them again. Jesse let the silence drag on, and after a long while Vumo sighed. “You asked me why,” he said. “I had given up hope of knowing that answer a long, long time ago. I will ask nothing in return for what I’ve shared save that-”

He broke off, looking out over the vast sweep of clouds before them. “Save that if you should one day find the answer, I would very much like to know why my friend had to die.”