Poisonous Fox

Naturally, it was not so simple as just creating a ladder through my Illusions.

First, Muleater wanted to see the Spell in action with her own eyes, for verification. But a ladder was a bit unwieldy, and I struggled to simply envision it. But practice was practice, and this was verification that I could create tangible Illusions, which were almost unheard of. She said it would be a nightmare in competent hands.

Thanks, for that. But she had a point. There were pieces of my kit that I still was unfamiliar with. I should have my tools down pat. All of my tools.

So I obliged her request for verification. I doubted I had much of a choice anyways, and it cost me little.

“What should I make then?” I asked her, wondering if there was anything specific that she had in mind. My default would have been a knife, or maybe a clone, since I remembered how useful those were when fighting the Den Mother. However, I was unsure if I wanted Muleater to know about that.

Afterall, how would law enforcement disarm someone that could magic up some sort of weapon? The measures would likely be draconian, and not something that I would want to experience.

“Chef’s choice,” she shrugged. “Just need to confirm that it could actually work.

Apparently what I made mattered little to her.

It had been sometime since I had practiced with my Illusions, but an idea occurred to me. Something I was familiar with. Something that was useful. And something that was absolutely not a weapon. At least, I doubted it could be used as one easily.

And it would hit two birds with a single stone. Because we not only wanted to escape the pit, well, Muleater wanted to, but we also wanted to avoid getting immediately caught. It was becoming almost a point of professional pride, at least on my part.

“Illusion. Touch.”

Concentration on the object I had in mind was easy. It helped that I remember handling them in the past, although the particulars of why I remembered them always seemed to elude me.

A pole formed in my hands, metallic, cold, and longer than Muleater was tall. At the end of the pole was an angled mirror. It was similar to what security guards at checkpoints would use to examine vehicles for smuggled goods on the undercarriage. Once I had it in my hands, I tossed it to Muleater.

She caught it adroitly. “What?” she paused, giving it a look. I noticed that the mirror lacked any reflection, and I wondered if that was a failing on my part. She hefted it in her hands several times before the Illusion expired. “Where’d it go?”

“Sorry,” I said, though not all that apologetically. I then explained one of the major limitations I had found. “They only last maybe twenty seconds if it’s tangible.”

“Huh.” Muleater rubbed her chin. “Guess that means we’ll have to move fast. By the way, is there a reason you made a sweeper?”

“Sweeper?” I asked, confused by the term. It was obvious she meant the vehicle inspection mirror, but, “Why call it that?”

She shrugged, “That’s just what the guard calls ‘em.”

In a way, it made sense. If they swept under wagons and such. I doubted they used them as brooms, anyways.

She continued her query, “Why’d you make one?”

“I was hoping to peek over the lip of the pit… you know… to see if the coast is clear.”

“Not a terrible idea,” she said. “But unnecessary in this case.”

I gave her a puzzled look.

“What?” she asked, looking askance. “You mean you haven’t noticed the sounds they make? They aren’t exactly silent movers.”

The clicking-clacking of high tension tendrils sliding over each other as they animated the infested? Of course I had noticed. But that was only when they were moving.

“They could be standing still…” I said, pointing out what I thought was an obvious hole in her logic.

She snorted. “I woulda heard them coming back this way. I’ve been keeping track. But if you don’t believe me, feel free to check with your sweeper.”

And I did check.

After I practiced creating the ‘sweeper’ multiple times to get the silvering of the mirror to actually reflect. Once I had the Illusion down, I angled it up and over the edge of the pit. A quick scan revealed that the immediate vicinity around the pit was empty. In fact, I failed to see any of the mucary at all.

Of course I double checked. Then triple checked.

Muleater looked smug.

“Now, we wait for dark.” After a pause, she added. “And you, start practicing utility.”

Apparently what she meant by utility was objects that might be useful in a broad range of situations. While we lacked time for me to get much practice in, by the time evening turned to night, I had gotten simple lean-to metal frame ladders down.

Granted, they only lasted for twenty seconds, but they would undoubtedly be useful for people that cannot climb walls, or for surfaces that cannot be climbed.

I was still surprised to find out that Muleater lacked the means to climb out from the pit on her own. But she had tried a few times before I had arrived, at least according to her. The ground comprising the walls was loose enough to break apart, but firm enough to not give any handholds.

She suspected that magic was at play, and it made sense. If I looked at the situation sideways, the mucary were plant people, and plant people should be masters of soil.

When night set in, Muleater gave me a tap on my good shoulder. “It’s time.”

However, I had doubts. They had never left. But as we came nearer the point of action, of a foolhardy escape attempt, the doubts and worries grew. This went beyond pre-job jitters.

Escaping was foolish, no, it was mothersworn stupid.

I attempted to guide Muleater back towards reason.

“Are you absolutely certain?” I asked, and not for the first time, either. “We’re probably going to get caught. Then they’ll probably infect us.”

“They’ll do that anyway when the Crown knocks their shit in. If we’re gonna get out, it needs to be now.” She narrowed her eyes and gave me a cautious look before continuing. I could hear her knuckles crack. “And I think I already made it clear what would happen if you declined?”

I coughed nervously.

“You did,” I said quickly to appease her.

I did not need to hear those again. The threats had certainly been unwelcome, but I also took them as a sign that she lacked better means of encouragement. So far, I was going along with it to keep my options open. And because I had a feeling that Emboru was accounting for this. Somehow. I just was unsure of how.

“But,” I said slowly, “What if I made a ladder for you to climb out, and I stayed behind?” I proposed a win-win scenario, which I hoped that Muleater accepted. She would escape, and fail, while I remained healthily behind. Of course there were still doubts, even with that plan. I knew that Emboru had placed me with Muleater for a reason… was this it? I wondered. The motive failed to make sense.

Muleater shook her head quickly enough that her gross and hardened hair shook free. “Nuh-uh. When I get free, I’m not going to be the one to tell Kate her little pet stayed behind to get eaten by the jungleborn. No. Not happening. Besides… your glyphs will be useful and’ll probably help. So shove some steel up your ass and let’s do this!”

I groaned in exasperation and disgust.

“Crude,” I commented.

However, I did comply. For several reasons. Reasons independent of Muleater’s threats, which I thought I could likely counter or circumvent.

No, the reason I went along with Muleater’s plan were two-fold.

One, I suspected that escaping with Muleater would satisfy some manner of Emboru’s plan, though I was unsure of what. It might have been a test, sure, but I thought more likely that it was meant to further ingratiate myself with Muleater.

And that led to the second reason. By going along with this, I firmed up my relationship with Muleater, who I thought might have been a somewhat prominent person in human society.

Her favor would likely come in handy.

Other than those reasons, I also desired to see how the escape would play out. Call me a masochist, but it sounded fun–educational.

“Illusion,” I mouthed, and summoned a ladder and leaned it against the side. The clock was ticking once the ladder formed. We had less than half a minute to get out. Muleater scurried up the ladder first, clearing it with about half the time remaining.

I let the ladder expire.

She glanced around and leaned back over the edge, giving me a thumbs up. Apparently there still were not any mucary sentries.

The security was quite lacking.

But this brought us to another problem. It would take me at least a minute to climb the ladder, due to my missing arm. Since my Illusion could only last half of that, Muleater thought of a different solution.

Once she was up top, and once the coast was clear, she found the very same vine ladder that the infested guards had been using, and she tossed it down.

It was an awkward climb up, but she helped by hauling the ladder up using sheer muscle alone. When I was just about to the lip of the pit, she reached down and hauled me up by the scruff of my jacket, before setting me back down.

I glanced around, and failed to see any mucary. Which was somewhat surprising, considering their numbers. I wondered if they retired for the evening, or if they had all been drawn out by the encroaching army.

I was about to express my concerns, but Muleater interrupted my thoughts by slugging my good shoulder.

“Why?” I asked, unsure of what she was going for. She coerces me into helping her, and then expresses a negative form of camaraderie? It made me realize that I really lacked context for her. Her actions were beginning to fail to match what I expected of her. That would be problematic. I needed to figure her out.

“Your Illusions,” she said, as though that answered my question. She rolled her eyes when I was still not getting it. “Still can’t believe you were holding out on us,” she muttered. “That spell could have helped us. A lot. And the missing potential! The first thing we’re doing when we get back is running you through drills…”

I grimaced at the possible loss in goodwill, but had nothing to refute her, at least not politely.

At least she was thinking positively. And people usually did not have their ‘pets’ run drills, so that was likely a step in the correct direction, at least perception wise.

But then, as we began searching our immediate area for weapons or supplies, I made an unwelcome correlation.

Drills could be akin to obedience school for dogs.

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

Body: 65

Mind: 75

Spirit: 49

Talents:

Athleticism (3/9):

Climbing I (1/9)

Featherlight (5/9)

Stealth I (4/9)

Trackless Tracks (8/9)

Alchemical Immunity (ineligible for growth)

Eschiver (3/9)

Evasion (6/9)

Spells:

Illusion I (5/9)

Touch (6/9)

Closed

Closed

Gifts:

Obsession (3/9)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)