Veridian Shores

Chapter 06 - Knife Edge

Capper stood alone in the training arena. At this time of day most of the other Clan members would be in hibernation, with only a handful of thralls and guards left to man the perimeter through the daylight hours. In one hand hung a heavy double-headed axe, its blade eight inches across, keen and broad enough to remove a head in a single swing. He stared at the training mannequin for a long, silent moment, and then bounded forward. In three powerful strides he cleared the distance and lashed out. The blow connected with such force that instead of removing the wooden head of the dummy it smashed it to splinters.

He didn't stop there. He zig-zagged across the arena floor like a lightning bolt, striking out left and right at the scattered targets with savage force. The heads blew apart under his swings, carpeting the floor in slivers of shattered wood. When he finished his run he skidded to a halt, breathing lightly, the axe hanging by his side. He glanced back, frowning. The course had given him far less satisfaction than he'd hoped.

The altercation in the alley brought all of Brooke's words crashing back down into his mind with a vengeance. The arrogance of Clan Baelock made his blood boil with rage, and more than that, the way Vandel had looked at Gliss filled him with fury. With the Synod looming on the horizon the last thing they'd needed was an incident within the Glaive territory. Suddenly he found himself thinking of all the politics, of the push and pull of Veridian Shores' clans.

The consistent growth in size of the Clans had, ironically, become their greatest problem. It became harder and harder to keep themselves concealed from the millions-strong human population of the city, and also pushed their hunting grounds closer and closer together. Dozens of smaller Clans already engaged in periodic skirmishes with each other as they vied for resources and positioning. It mattered little if the minnows chose to bite one and other, but Capper knew full well that if the larger Clans fell into open conflict it could tear the city apart.

And he was stuck unwilling, right in the middle of it all.

Spinning, he gritted his teeth and let fly with the axe. It thrummed viciously across the training arena and struck a target at the far end, burying the entire blade into the wooden mannequin's head. Then he noticed two figures on the gantry above.

The one on the left was unmistakable. Even leaning forward with his elbows on the balcony Finbarr cut a big, imposing figure. Next to him stood Gliss, arms folded, watching with an approving look on her face.

"Not bad," she called down. "Mind if I join you?"

Capper spread his arms wide. "There's plenty of room."

She smiled and glanced at Finbarr. Her hulking chaperone nodded once, not moving from his position by the rail. Gliss turned and descended the spiralling metal staircase leading from the gantry down into the pits. She strode out across the grit-covered metal floor and reached the mannequin with the axe still sticking out of it. He watched as she wrapped a hand around the thick haft and wrenched the weapon free in a shower of splinters.

"So this is your style?" she enquired, giving it an experimental swing. "Not very elegant."

"It gets the job done," he replied.

"I don't doubt it." She tossed the axe to him in a lazy arc, and its handle thudded against his palm as he caught it. "I take it you're still sore about our little...adventure?"

He turned the axe over in his hands, checking the blade for any nicks. "I'm sorry you got dragged into the middle of that. And thanks for helping me."

"I wasn't just going to stand and watch you get your head caved in."

"I appreciate it, but you've made yourself some enemies in Clan Baelock."