A Secret Man of Blood

Chapter Nineteen

Anya, Indigo, Sid and Squad are onboard Gaia, heading for Tyria, the largest Elven country in the world and a prominent constituent of the Samarian Empire. The others discuss their top-secret mission, as Sig brings in the tea – he's already served Anya and Squad, so it's just Indigo's left. He drops five lumps of sugar in the tea and brings it over, handing it to the mage.

"Here you go, Indigo. Do you take sugar?"

"No."

"Ah..." Sig says, looking down at the five lumps of sugar he's just dropped in. "...Don't stir."

"So, what's up with all this secrecy?" Anya asks Squad.

"You really don't remember?" Squad asks her. "I heard something from Scipio's memories that requires our immediate attention."

Anya looks him straight in the eye. "I was a little distracted."

She still hasn't spoken to anyone about Scipio being her and Indigo's father. Only Squad knows.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifts and Sig runs to one of the windows in Gaia's hull, pointing dramatically at the rolling fields outside. "The clouds are eating the grass!" he cries hysterically. "The clouds are eating the graaaaaass!"

Taking a sip of tea, Squad calmly looks over his shoulder. "...Those are sheep."

Anya meets Sig's gaze and shakes her head, smiling. "Why?" she mouths. "Just...why?"

Sig smiles back, turning to Squad as if he hasn't just derailed the entire conversation. "So, Squad, tells us what you heard," he says, taking a sip from his tea.

"Thanks, Sig." He addresses everyone. "We're here to stop the assassination of Indulkar—"

This news sparks various reactions in all members of the group, who each have their own feedback.

Indigo: "The Elven politician? He's supposed to be a great warrior and mage."

Anya: "I'm so looking forward to meeting him! He's done more for liberal values and interracial relations than anyone alive."

Sig: "That massive cunt?"

There's an awkward silence.

"...Well, he's like twelve feet tall. Calling him massive is no insult."

"And cunt?" Anya enquires.

"That's just my word for people. Though, to be fair, I don't know the cun—guy." A gleam of excitement enters the Dwarf's eyes and he grabs a box from under his chair. "I can show Indulkar my new shoes!" He takes out, and puts on, a pair of massive high-heeled platform shoes, checking the others' reaction like a giddy child. "Don't they make me look tall?"

Anya and Indigo exchange smiles, and Squad points at the shoes in protest. "You can't wear them! Can you imagine chasing an assassin wearing those?"

"...Why would he be wearing them? Is he some kind of hyper-kinky assassin who steals people's shoes?"

*

"The Prime Minister will see you now," says the official, ushering them into the office of Indulkar, which is two floors of bookshelves and rarities amassed over a lifetime of thirty-one thousand years. The great Elf is seated at a desk in the middle but stands as they enter, and Squad is immediately struck by the sheer size of him: most Elves are a little taller than the average human, lithe and fast, but Indulkar is a person of inordinate size, over twelve feet tall with arms as thick as a normal person's torso and legs as wide as tree trunks. He has a cascade of dark hair and eyes like a black hole gone wild, circled by whites that are a milky pool of moonlight in all that darkness.