Hunted|Haunted - Chapter 19 - Neven finally gets it

— …aaand never mind. — Neven sounded done to a surprising degree.
— What just happened, and why am I not surprised something happened? — Nex was still holding the rusty blade.
— Well, now you know why you shouldn't carve random things in trees, without checking mana fields first.
— Are we… Are we in fucking Quine? Why does your knife teleport to Quine?
— No, my knife was preventing us from being teleported to Quine. Now that you pulled it out, it no longer does.
— Great, how do we go back?
— Put the knife back in the tree.
— The one that-… Wait. No way, you just made a joke.

What's next? No, really, what's next?
Nex couldn't even think of something more ridiculous than getting randomly teleported to the East. And not just any place in the East, no, to an apparent industrial zone, with the thick smog reminding him of his days in Carvington. Heck, he couldn't even be sure he wasn't in Carvington. Maybe Harvey's inability to read is fucking contagious, and now letters just look like hieroglyphs.
Harvey, yes. The most experienced traveller among them was out cold with a dislocated arm and showed no signs of waking up anytime soon. Nex's back already started to hurt in anticipation of him having to drag the dead weight around, because him doing it is not as suspicious as having Tove do it. Maybe the next weird thing will be him spontaneously combusting? Nex sure hoped so.

— Oi, if I carve those symbols in some other tree here, will that work? I'm pretty sure I can find the same kind of pine.
— No, since that sequence leads only here.
— Okay, what if I carve them backwards and upside down?
…

— Why are all of you looking at me? I can't teleport without a preset artefact, I have no idea what would happen or why.
— Great. Just great. We’re in the middle of who the fuck knows where, between all of us we have one and a half experience with magic, and most of it is consolidated in a ghost of war veteran inhabiting a plushie. — Nex shook his head exasperatedly. By the looks of it, he was slightly swaying. — … I really should have called your mom when I had the option, Toma.
— Uh, there’s a phone over there, if you want to. — Toma said sheepishly, looking at the ground.

Rising sun reflected off the shopfronts' windows, and advertisements were glued over every vertical surface in sight. Despite it being such an odd hour, the streets were lively as ever — some not yet fully awake stumbling to work, some returning home, falling asleep as they walked, and others nocturnal, going about their nightly life.
Passing kitsune cubs would mimic Toma's face, getting a laugh from their peers or a scolding from adults. You can't just copy someone's face, that's rude. Well, and for adults, that's fraud. Not that fraud is not rude.
The desert witch kids were a bit apprehensive of him at first. Seeing magic and traces of it is rather useful in deserts, so this kind of witch is rather sensitive to it. Toma, on the other hand, was built to withstand the negative charge of large bodies of water, so he shone a little too bright to them. Kids are kids, though, so not long after the bunch were trading trinkets and snacks, and engaged in games using their limited shared vocabulary.
Nex, Harvey and Neven all needed rest, even if only Harvey could admit it, so Tove herded them into a quiet back alley, while Toma ran the rest of his energy out. Eventually, Toma got hungry.

—I might get you sommen to eat, but you gotta do what I say. I've heard savvi over there, meaning there's a commune, meaning they'll either give you sommen or tell you where the soup kitchen is.
— Savvi's the same over there?
— I mean, they shishish a lot, and there's some words I don't recognise, but overall, yeah.
— Why do savtktani speak the same, but everybody else doesn't?
— Ever heard of the Tower of Babel?
— I think so.
— Well, it wasn't in Hell.
— No, but seriously!
— All savtktani came from a single country in Hell, so there wasn't many languages to begin with, and it's not like we like to change it.
— And savtktani from other countries?
— All dead.
— What happened to them?
— Plenty of things, but for the main part, demons hunted them to extinction.
— But demons are so nice.
— To you, because you're a witch. You're about the cutest animal a demon can see. Me? I'm food. Not even anything fancy.
— I'm sorry.
— Why? You don't impact all that in any way. That's just how life is sometimes. You can help make life more fair when you're older, but now you just kinda accept it. It takes big beetles to turn big rocks, yano? Oh, over there. Go through that gate.

A bunch of savtktani workers chatted outside a big, grey, boring building. They looked more or less the same as the ones at the gig, if only dressed in similar overalls and compound orange helmets instead of ragged jeans and plaids. A fun thing Toma noticed is that most savtktani he saw were way taller than Tove was supposed to be. Now, to think about it, is Tove an adult?

— Now, just repeat words after me, okay?

Before he said anything, the group noticed him and stopped talking. The one whose overalls seemed the most ironed crouched and leaned, trying to be at least somewhat at Toma's eye level.

— [Aren't you supposed to be home?]
— [Hello. An accident happened, and now I'm here. May I have some food?]
— [Well, darn, okay. Come along.]
— [Thank you. May I take some for my friend too?]
— [Uhm... Sure.]
— [Thank you, may Hilthbenqe light your way.]
—[You're speaking really well for someone your age. Are you adopted by some of us?]
—[There is a guard spirit with me, and she tells me what to say. I don't know any savvi or this land's language.]
— [Huh. Didn't think them things still stuck around.]

The worker led Toma to the canteen, and after talking a bit to the people there, got Toma a hefty box of rice, a weird, foamy omelette, some other thing Toma couldn't quite identify, and a couple of glass bottles of… that's probably yoghurt? Looked like purplish glue.
After thanking him, the witch trotted off to the back alley. Nex didn't look okay one bit, but at least he was still in one piece and didn't run off. Maybe some food will fix him up.
The “glue” turned out to be something reminiscent of a thick creamed potato soup, which was rather bland, but interesting to eat, as Toma struggled to get it out of the bottle.

— Since we’re stuck for a bit… Stay still, I’m almost… 27 holes. Most of them are on your back, there’s only one on your legs, and also you say you weren’t shot that many times. You mind if I investigate? Because you don’t seem a liar, but you ain’t a mather either, cuz your stuff ain’t adding up.
— … You mean.. Mathematician?
— Nah, for that, stuff gotta add up at least sometimes. Holebowl, if you poke this wound, do you see a fucked up hospital scene?

Cogs near immediately fell on the ground, and apparently tried to remember how to throw up. Things like that are easy to forget when you don’t even blink that often.

— I guess that’s a yes. I've gotta see something else, pick a wound, dude.
— Is there a way to make you stop touching me?
— Look, I'm not thrilled either, that fish-bitch butcher was enough for me, but if I figure out why this happens at all, I might figure out how to make it so it doesn't. If that makes you feel any better, I don't mind you decking me in some weird demon-hunter fashion. Or regular fashion, for that matter.

Neven’s posture changed, tensed up, as if preparing to run away but simultaneously being too afraid to move. He looked away as far as his neck could allow, otherwise remaining more or less “soldier-like”.

— Pick whichever — he mumbled monotonously.

This time, she picked a wound near his spine. Didn't say anything, just slumped over him like a wet towel, her neck almost curled around his in an attempt to keep the pronghorns out of his face.

Tove hugged him ever so gently, as if he would turn to dust had her moves not been filled with the grace of a falling leaf.

— But why were you alone?

Her voice seeped with pain and grief.
Neven tried to answer, but what could he possibly say? The question didn't come from curiosity, but rather an inability to comprehend the apparent nightmare he experienced at some point.
A lone savtktani is a dead savtktani, it's common knowledge. A savtktani is only seen alone if it's rabid, or not a savtktani at all. Why was he a lone gunman? Well, that's simple, most of his common spells seriously impacted mana around him, and that did mess with his weaker teammates, it was best that he cast at a distance from them. But that couldn't be what she was asking, she could've guessed that herself.
A lone savtktani is a dead savtktani, it's common knowledge. A savtktani is only seen alone if it's rabid, or not a savtktani at all. Why did he hunt the circus on his own? Well, that's simple, he was one of the few sane ones who could manage and predict Krsto's random tricks. The rest can say what they want, but his spells always did work, even if they made little to no sense. But that couldn't be what she was asking, she knows Krsto is his brother, and therefore wouldn't call him “alone” in that situation, even if in that situation they were enemies.
A lone savtktani is a dead savtktani, it's common knowledge. A savtktani is only seen alone if it's rabid, or not a savtktani at all. Why was he one-on-one with Aano? Well, that's simple, she kept all of her patients separately. The results could be contaminated, and no one wants to deal with an abomination. But… keeping patients separate is common sense.
He went through situation after situation, but couldn't for the love of gods figure out what explanation she wanted, and whatever explanation he did have either was simple as that, or probably wouldn't have made much sense to anyone not familiar with the Order, the Way, or crystalline plague.

— They were right there. They knew your name. Why were you alone?
— What are you even talking about?
— Guy with the grass name. 14 people, and they left you alone to do this? What kind of pack even is that?

— I was the only one precise enough to-
— Motherfucker, I don't care why or how exactly you did what you did, but why were you alone?!

Her grasp grew tighter.

— I just… I don't understand. I don't know if I even want to.

And with that, she released the witch and went to sulk, lightly headbutting a lamppost. Eventually, she either grew bored with it or got distracted and forgot she was sulking.
Next came the round of experiments on Cogs.

— So, what’s that like?

Since a single poke didn’t do anything, Tove stuck another finger in.

— To be honest, that feels like pus-
— The flashbacks, dammit!
— Ah, there aren’t any.
— Then why the fuck are you still two knuckles deep into my spleen?
— I mean, I thought maybe yours need more time to work, since you’re not a PTSergant of a headache army. — She shook her hand off of non-existent blood. — Okay, dude, here’s my conclusion. Whatever you are, you ain’t a ghost, that's concrete. To the next point – are you, like, sure you actually have died?
— I wasn’t aware that the living now pass through walls.
— Nah-nah, mind the wording here. Your current state is dead. But have you died?
— If you phrase it in a way that makes sense, I might be able to answer.
— Look, I dunno how that looked like for either of you, but Hilthbenque tried to drag me through the river of flowing ice, before I wrestled him and crawled out of the water to look at my corpse being loaded in a body bag. Have you actually seen your dead body? Or some deity responsible for witches?

Neven proceeded to, again, recount his last living moments.

— The void, you say… Dude, could it be you were ghosted before dying?
— That is not a thing that happens.
— Maybe, but the mask is magic, and also your math still ain’t mathin. Where’d you even get it?
— Looted it from a temple near the-

The gears turning inside Neven’s head became quite audible.

— Toma, come here for a minute. You don’t happen to know anything about where Nana gets those trinkets of hers?
— I’ve seen her make some, like those mice dancers. I’m not supposed to know about them, so I can’t ask.
…
— Tove. I am very much about to break into hysterics. Take control of the situation.
— Gotcha.

Tove was prepared to console a crying witch, or to deck him if needed. However, the witch turning into a coyote and climbing the nearest house with the swiftness of a highly caffeinated weasel to scream from the top of it was a bit too unexpected even for her.

— That happens?
— Sometimes, but usually, he just floats somewhere in silence.
— Well, he definitely needs that one. — Tove picked Toma up, swirled him around and carried him off upside down.
— What are you doing? — He giggled.
— Controlling the situation.

Having screamed his fill, Neven was now lying face down on the ground.

— I'm such an imbecile.
— Well, I'm not arguing with that. Thought you'd howl, though.
— Coyotes can't howl, their snouts are too narrow.
— Nerd, that's an expression. I don't get why you're upset. If you aren't 100% dead, can't you be maged back to life?
— In what body?
— Yours?
— Necromancy is not only illegal, but also extremely expensive.
— Can't you undo wound rot?
— You mean necrosis?

— Whatever. A corpse is just really bad wound rot. If you can undo it, you can fix your body on your own and just possess it.
— I don't know how to undo “wound rot”.
— Then learn? I fail to see the problem.
— You'd fail to see the problem no matter how I put it, wouldn't you?
— Probably, you're not doing a very good job of explaining why you'd rather mark it impossible than have a little hope. I mean, with all due respect and whiskey, finding Krsto after what, 10 years or sommen, is objectively more impossible than reviving your body, considering you know where it is, you know healing, and you’re present. Yet you’re hoping for one and not the other.
— At least I had successfully found Krsto before.
— You’re making me want to give you a slap worthy of having a prophetic revelation. Since we agreed that I’m not going to touch you any more, this pipe right here is now your substitute.

Tove’s slap made the pipe fold and tear off the wall. The noise made Harvey wake up screaming. After the source of noise had been identified, he started dozing off again. Only to start screaming anew when he noticed what had happened to his arm.

— Speaking of Necromancy. — Cogs decided to get his own penny into the conversation. — Who the fuck cares about shit being legal?
— When they catch necromancers, they send someone to send all the summoned back. Who’s going to ask us whether we were summoned or not? We’ll just either end up elsewhere or in a trinket.
— Motherfucker, you already were in a trinket, and you didn’t even need anyone to put you into it! – The pipe was kicked up on a roof. The commotion, surprisingly, did not affect Toma at all. Don’t tell me you got your tongue stuck in that bottle… At least Harvey got himself sorted out. It’s incredibly convenient to have a high-ranking magic surgeon as your fiancée, you get to pack all sorts of healing spells along.
— Now I, too, wanna punch something. — Cogs shook his head in exasperation. — You're telling me, you couldn't get your balls together to at least live a little? Dammit, even Nex offered to get you a body, and you still refused help! And so what if they try to catch necromancers? It's “if” they are caught, not “when”.

 

Neven just lay there, bleeding.

— And yet, you’d fail to see the problem no matter how I put it.

Nexialist, sitting and staring in one direction, snapped out of it. Sighed and grumbled, half-coherently.

— The problem is not yet, but it will be, when Imma get killed by my head. Then yea, it’ll be a problem.
— Chew some of your pills, garage sale old man. — Cogs chuckled slightly. Then, after a pause, asked, slightly concerned. — You have them, right?
— If I had them, I wouldn't be sitting here, wherever we are, with a killer headache and on the verge of hysteria.
— Oh, so something did happen. I thought I hit my head. What’s bothering you? — Harvey was petting his opossum and trying to make a therapist impression. Bubba’s expression made it impossible.
— Nothing. Everything. Hard to tell.
— I have all sorts of stuff on me. Weed, shrooms, cough syrup. The one-night kind. Something has to help your head.

Nex immediately looked at Harvey with decidedly less hostility than before.

— You do realise that most of that stuff has barely any effect on witches, right? His own mum gets her pot from me. Oh dear, what… how did you get yourself into this... — Toma was frantically babbling, trying to free himself from the bottle. Since it got stuck quite firmly, Harvey decided to use a trick. He pulled a deck of blank cards from the pocket of his bag, put one card at the bottom of the bottle. The bottle started to pass through the card, eventually falling into it completely. The card now had an image of a bottle, signed with a text:

“1 bottle - object - fragile - container - glass - dirty”

— Yo. — Cogs hummed thoughtfully. — Neat trick.
— Hocus-pocus, motherfocurs. — Nex grumbled, but without a real bite behind it. He, too, eyed the cards with interest, but slight. Probably thought about how to use them, were he able to.
— Guess you wouldn’t be talking for a while, huh?
— Nofin wiy ftop me. — Toma mumbled.
— Now, where are we, what happened to my arm, and why did he possess me?
— First weed, then answers. I’m really not in it now.

Harvey tossed a zip-lock bag over. Nex caught it, although barely, his eyes blinking away the too-bright rays of the rising sun. He didn't care, however, and almost tore the bag open and taking a piece of paper out of his pocket. Soon enough, he rolled a makeshift cigarette with the speed of someone who trained for the Olympics in the matter, and was smoking it.

After a couple of good whiffs, Nex retold the whole bear thing, the knife thing, and the random flying pipe thing.

— Yeah, that sounds like something that would happen to Krsto. But if Neven tries that again, I will be locking him in a card, got it? I don’t care if you changed or not, or something, I don’t want to be anywhere near. And to your captain ass, I have never, ever, successfully returned something capable of thought from the card.
— … I am a lieutenant, though?
— I like how that’s the only thing you heard, dude.
— Just stay away from him. I know you don't really have self-preservation instinct, but I’d rather fight with whatever Grim Reaper shite Mechanoism offers. — Cogs shivered slightly. Probably at the prospect of being trapped in a card. — At least you can win there. This Harvey guy looks exactly like that possum, if it were threatened with its favourite piece of trash taken.

Opossum glared at Cogs with utmost disgust. Cogs flipped it off as a response.
Both pretended the conversation didn’t happen.

— So, if that “sounds like something that would happen”, did your squad get teleported to Quine on the daily?
— Toma, close your ears for a minute.
— Uh, okay?
— Now listen, Nex, there isn't anything and never was anything normal about Krsto, for better or worse. He fiddled with artefacts and temples and whatever so much, he's pretty much one himself. Neven, of all people, should know this well. Krsto's covered, COVERED, in demon seals. And since he did most of them himself, and tattoo ink bleeds, they malfunction. And you know what malfunctioning demon seals do? They turn things into more, malfunctioning magic things!
— Didn't all of you mess with artefacts?
— Nah, mostly just Krsto. He's the only one Nipher would definitely put back together if something went wrong. Property and all that.
— You mention this Nipher guy a lot, and so far, no one has told me who that is.
— Really? You're looking for Krsto and don't know anything? You might as well be able to walk between raindrops at this point.
— Motherfucker, you can't read and call other people unknowledgeable?
— Nah, but you know, it is really surprising. I mean, in the Order, people usually found out about their relationship before they found out any of our names. But yeah, the thing is that Nipher is a really, really, — Harvey proceeded to repeat “really” at least 16 times, — really important guy in Hell. And Krsto and Imeje aren't a “couple”, because Nipher’s part of that too. So we all got deals and such through him, but unlike Krsto, the rest of us actually had to pay.
— The fuck you meant by property, though?
— Oh, Nipher owns Krsto, sorta. I don't know the details, never got comfortable enough to ask.
…
— Aren't we supposed to be looking in Hell, then?
— You would think so, but there's little track of him there, and each time I look, there's less of it. Whatever he owned there, Nipher either took back or regifted.
— Maybe Nipher knows where Krsto went?
— Imeje said she sacrificed a horse, and he didn’t send a crossroader.
— Which is bad?
— Very bad.
— Hm. — Nex hummed, not entirely comfortable with thinking yet, but way calmer than he was before he was given a joint. — Other Krsto-related things I need to know? Except for him being a kinda-slave-kinda-not to some dick in hell.
— Uhm… sometimes… Krsto isn’t exactly a witch. He found out the name the universe gave him, and whatever that is, is supposed to be this weird root thing with a skull. Udbaj explained it to me a million times, but I still never got it. But as far as it got, whenever we called him by his name, it turned off.

Nex took one more whiff, blinking, seemingly either deep in thought or just not thinking at all. Cogs scratched his head.

— A witch in a quantum superposition, a conman, and an ex-cultist walk into the bar…

The rest of the sentence was muffled by Tove losing her mind laughing. Even Nex let out a short chuckle.