Hunted|Haunted - Chapter 23 - This sentence is false

— How long have you been like this?

Nokk answered the question in an emotionless voice, his eyes hollow, as if he were already dead, just forgot to get into the grave.

— I stopped counting after the first five years, mistress.

That could tell miles to anyone. Imeje didn't need to be told twice what to do. Not her first rodeo.

— First order: from this point on, respond like a free person. Sassing, disrespect, cussing, expressions of extreme emotion, and expressions of pain, all allowed. I don't care. If anything, that'll save us from excessive attention. Second order: going against mine, or previous orders, is preferred if it saves us from excessive attention or harm. Third order: if so happens, the life of my child is to be prioritised. You may find the resources to recognise my child in this box. Fourth order: I am only to be touched if it saves me from excessive attention or harm. Fifth: if you do not possess the skills, resources or ability to complete the task properly, you are to announce it instead of attempting the task. I prefer you to be at your peak performance rather than at constant performance. Satisfy your needs on your own before you lose consciousness. I can put you in a coffin, sure, but I'd rather you not dig yourself a grave.

Nokk didn't seem to react to her words at first. Then, however, he slowly blinked, and nodded, slightly tilting his head to the right, as if surprised.

— …As you wish.

That was something at least. Somewhere to begin.

 

— Now that we've got that out of the way, I haven't slept in… a while. Do whatever magic it is you use to track my child. Wake me up once he's back in Redar, or otherwise no longer in Quine. Food is in the tins, help yourself, adieu.

And so, having disinfected the casket after the Tragač, she crawled in herself and closed the lid.

Nokk was left to his own devices. At first, he turned around, quietly and carefully examining the area. Then walked closer to the trunk of the car and peeked into the open box of various clues and belongings. How often must this child go missing if the mistress is this prepared?

Regardless of that, after a bit of thought, he quietly took a lock of the child's hair out of the box and took a knife out of his pocket, then went off to a patch of dirt closer to the forest and started tracing the runic circle out with the blade of the knife. He remembered the runes well enough for it to work – that much was clear. The circle wasn't as good as his former master would likely be able to do, but allowing Nokk to study the rune set until Nokk could get it right certainly paid off.

As he tended to his task, his mind was… restless. Nokk tried to make sense of the new mistress's orders. They made sense, of course, they held logic behind them, and he would obey either way… but they were new.

Nobody has ever ordered him something like that. Not his first master. Not his former master. They were clever with words, especially the former master, but they never allowed him to show emotions or pain, to talk back, or to straight up defy the orders given, especially if they seemed nonsensical. This happened for the first time.

Nokk had a hard time reconciling the new orders with what he was used to. He was a weapon, a bloodhound, and anything else his masters needed him to be, but he was dangerous. He knew that well. Not only that, but he was specifically made that way. Thus, he was always supposed to obey the handlers – or else, he would be disposed of, else handlers would be disappointed, else there would be punishment… But here, the mistress ordered him to defy orders. Not only hers, but also any previous orders – if it attracted unnecessary attention or harm their way.

Nokk had a weird sensation in his stomach at this thought. As if he ate something less-than-tasteless. He didn't know what the sensation meant, but it was… unpleasant.

The rune circle was finished, so for now, Nokk decided to focus his attention on it, and not on the spiralling, unpleasant thoughts. Task comes first, breakdown, if such happens, comes second and needs to be properly dealt with – after the task is done.

After Nokk placed the lock of hair into the circle, it began glowing, coalescing a shape out of thin air. The shape of the unfamiliar Quinese city manifested once more, slightly distorted, but otherwise mostly the same, displaying the child, the asset, and their unlikely companions when those were around. At least, Nokk thought they were the companions of the asset – they looked as foreign there as the child.

Nokk rose from his crouching position, looking at the image. Then turned around and, not noticing any signs of life nearby, except for the sleeping mistress, decided, against his better judgement, not to erase the circle for now. Instead, he went back to the hearse’s trunk and opened the lid of the casket.

The mistress, indeed, was sleeping. And Nokk wasn't about to touch her to rouse her from sleep – not after a direct order not to touch her if it isn't a critical situation.

A bear abruptly appeared from the woods, sniffing around the circle. This must count as a critical situation, right?

— Oi! Hinny, where master at? — The bear growled — Could've sworn just smelled ‘im around... Oi, oi, Lenny, no, we don't eat shapes! — the bear pushed a cub away from the circle.

Nokk watched the bear and the cubs without blinking. The situation wasn't in a hurry to make any sense, whatsoever. However, Nokk could sense that something with the bear was off – not only the fact that the bear was talking, but also the sheer aura around it. So, Nokk touched the mistress's shoulder and slightly shook her.

No reaction.

He shook the mistress some more. Then called her. Still no reaction. She didn't even turn in her sleep. The situation spiralled quickly out of control, and by this moment, Nokk had two options. Option one – rougher methods of awakening, including the usage of water, ice, simply painful sensations and electric energy. Option two – decide if the talking bear was hostile, and if it was, take care of it.

Nokk decided that option two was more preferable. So, with a quick step aside, he cast a magical barrier, causing it to surround the casket with the mistress, then finally turned his attention fully to the talking bear.

— Greetings. Who are you?

After all, even if it's a possible victim, you need to be polite.

— Name's Paddington, Aye'm a warden of sorts ‘round here.

“Warden”. With a strange name. And in a strange form. Nokk slightly tilted his head to the right, still staring at the bear, then asked.

— Are you looking for someone? — Intruders, perhaps. Or who else the warden of this place might've been looking for.

— Master, yes! Good lord, can ye not listen? — The cub had to be pushed away again.

— I can listen, and I am neither “good” nor of aristocratic origin. — Nokk deadpanned. — Are you looking for a specific person? If yes, they have likely moved on. If not, I'm afraid I don't qualify as a master.

— Damn, boy, master put some good anti-theft tricks on you. Aye'm not allowed to speak his name, ye as well, aye'm guessing. The headless wrath, on a steed with no legs.

— Clarification: He was my master. Formerly.

— Oi, that's big problems…

Nokk narrowed his eyes slightly. If this “Paddington” was about to attack, because of Nokk’s change of allegiance…

— Some lads made a hole to someplace else, ye better not go around there. Them lads are armed like a spider at a mannequin factory.

Hmm. That was… an interesting piece of information. Nokk decided to ask some questions, to hopefully try to piece together a picture.

— Number of them?

— Two big lads, one wee lad, two half-here's, one limbhound.

— Clarify “half-here” and “limbhound”.

— Ye know, body's dead, the rest innit. The limbhound… well, ye'd know if ye seen one.

Oh. So, two adults, a child, two ghosts, or other spirits… and some kind of creature–monster, or mutant, it seemed. For now, Nokk decided to move past that in his questions.

— Any of them mages?

— Some of ‘em witches.

— Adult witches?

— One of each, ‘cept the limbhound.

— Mhm. — That Nokk didn't particularly understand… but something hinted that this information is related to the sleeping mistress and her kid. How many witches coincidentally end up almost together deep in the woods of Leytra, without having any relation to each other? Exactly. — How long ago was it?

— There ain't no clocks to fit my bear hands, but not too long.

Nokk nodded, checking the information with what he had. The child had been in Quine when his former master traded him over to the mistress. Before that? Likely somewhere in the region, if the mistress decided to drive a hearse here, looking for them.

There was a possibility to follow the asset through the “hole” that the warden mentioned, but Nokk wasn't about to do that. Simply because, even if he were to, there was no guarantee that he would be able to make it back with the asset in tow. At least because of the distance, the fact that the asset's companions were armed, and numerous. He needed a plan for this, not just jump into the situation head-first. But, looking at this “hole” sounded promising, at least for the reason of understanding, how exactly the asset and its convoy managed to make it as far as Quine. So, Nokk asked.

— Can you show me this “hole” they made?

— Sure thing. Don't come close, Jonathan is snappy, might mistake ye for a deer.

Nokk nodded, and, after sparing a glance to check the protective barrier covering the sleeping mistress once more, followed Paddington into the woods.

— That here is a hole. — The bear pointed at a sickly looking tree. — Place wasn't ever much stable, them's the lightning works, but was fine after that one lad some winters ago stuck an order blade in. Well, these lads took it out, and now them fairy hairs everywhere. Straight through the firmament! Aye can't tell where the hole edges are, so if aye were ye, aye wouldn't go lick it.

— Clarify “order blade”.

— Ah, yer too wee to know, Her Majesty used to have this guard dog of hers, order of something, can't remember. T'was in place of what's it called, war smarts?

— Military Intelligence?

— That's the name. Well, that blade had the order's crest. At least looked like it.

— Did any of the people you mentioned belong to the order or military intelligence?

— Aye can't tell, never seen how one of those looks.

Hm. Well, everything considered, not as surprising. Still, after looking around and committing the scene to memory – and deciding to take the advice and not get any closer to the tree, Nokk noted, almost copying Paddington's words from before.

— You would know if you were to see one. — Then, after looking around some more, turned around. — Noted. I will tell the mistress of this upon her awakening. As for the former master, however, I am unsure if I would be able to reach him.

— And that’s big problems for ye, and for aye, and for them bucks and birds. Real hoped he could’ve sewn this thing up.

Nokk hummed thoughtfully. Then turned around, beginning to leave in the direction of the hearse.

 

— All things considered, he could have.

— Ye've been his righty for a while, can ye try?

Nokk stopped, considering a question for a second. Then answered, turning back to look at Paddington.

— I can try, but the result may be different from desired. I'm not that well-versed in magic.

— Oi, righty, if ye can get it somewhat calm, that already would be better than what it is.

Nokk was unsure as to how to proceed with the task at hand. Closing up temporal-spatial rifts wasn't exactly in his set of skills. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, glowing green. Magical sight could probably help with outlining the problem at least.

First things first – examine the damage. Considering the number of strands of magic torn and dangling in the air, a few meters in front of him, this place is in desperate need of a dimensional sewing machine. If there even exists such a thing. Well, in any case, after seeing the proverbial hole, Nokk was about to mend the damage.

The mending itself was a gruesome task simply because where the place needed a sewing machine, Nokk was a needle with a huge amount of thread, if one were to speak in analogies. The fabric before him was torn, and he tried to sew it back together with what he had, which was a slow and crude process. Piecing together reality, while retaining concentration on the barrier that surrounded the sleeping mistress in the car, took him hours. But for the lack of anything better to do, Nokk managed.

After the breach was finally closed, the space around the tree became visibly smaller by a few feet at least. The tree itself seemed slightly thinner than before, but at least no longer looked like it would fall out of the confines of reality. Nokk examined his work. It was a crude stitch, but it was functional, so it would hold on for some time at least.

Without much more to say or do, Nokk, despite feeling exhaustion creeping in, turned around and went back to the hearse with his mistress. He was done with the hole, so now, with no apparent danger, he needed to check on her.

The mistress was still sleeping. After waving the barrier off and checking up on her, Nokk only confirmed that to himself. And, since he wasn't successful at waking her up, and there was no immediate danger, Nokk decided to close the casket back and get back to watching the tracking rune circle, waiting until either the child was out of Quine or the mistress woke up.

As soon as Nokk switched to his “energy-saving mode”, the mistress woke up.

— Mornin’. Any news?
— Affirmative. — He nodded and immediately elaborated. — The local territory seems to be of some interest to my former master. Other than that, I was approached by a bear, who turned out to be the local warden. Approached for help, surprisingly. There was some kind of time-space anomaly on a tree. — Nokk shrugged slightly in a vague gesture, as in “go figure”. — After questioning the warden and seeing the anomaly myself, I fixed it.
— Huh. The mushrooms must be going crazy around here. Wait, was it the fairy ring kind or the Alice kind?

Nokk just blinked, slightly furrowing his brows in confusion. The what kind?

— You know, a circle of mushrooms around the tree, or a hole in the ground by the roots?

Oh. That made it clearer. Nokk shook his head.

— Neither. It looked like an image on television, half-covered in static, flickering and distorted – not so much that recognition is impossible, but visible and slightly disturbing.

— Oh. — Something in those words made the mistress seem more grim than worked up. — Any symbols on that tree?
— Affirmative. — Nokk nodded in confirmation once again. Then added, proceeding to grab a stick from the ground. — The symbols didn’t exactly look like any runes known to me. But I remember how they looked.

Looking at the drawings Nokk made with a stick on the ground, the mistress’s gaze was reminiscent of that of a starving dragon.

“Of course you would” – she mumbled.
Just as swiftly, the grim expression was gone.

— Anyway, we should eat while we're waiting. Are you any good with pyromancy, or should I just get a fire starter?

— Former master taught me a few basic spells. — Nokk tilted his head slightly, in consideration. Then asked. — Do you want me to make a bonfire?

— Heat a couple of tins, don’t burn the forest, the rest is up to you.

Well. Heating two tin cans didn't require a bonfire. But Nokk had no need to hurry or hide his presence as for now, so he gathered a bit of kindling and, after a flick of a hand, made a small fire. After that, he took two cans of something edible, opened them with his knife and put them into the fire.

Now, all that was left to do was to watch the tracking circle and the cans, and wait. Unsurprisingly, the cans and the meat inside them heated faster than the child had left Quine, so Nokk put the fire out and fished the cans out of the embers. The cans were fairly hot in his hands, so he was sure to wrap one of them in some kind of thin towel he found lying near the tin cans, and taste a bit of the contents to determine whether it had been spoiled, before passing it to the mistress.

Just as they were finishing their tins in silence, the track finally shifted, ending up in mainland Redar.

— Finally! – The mistress threw her hands in the air. – Probably napped as well. Care for a trick?

Nokk, as it usually was, was deprived of choice and thus had to witness the witch grab a brass knuckle from the glove box and use it to draw a circle in front of the car, opening a spatial breach.

— This should be the way to Woodmur, but you'd better check, sometimes I miss by 40 or so miles.

Nokk nodded. But, since the mistress didn't look overly pleased with his silent demeanour, he added:

— Acknowledged.

After which, he stepped closer to the portal, raised his hand towards it and focused, sending a quick, directed pulse of magic inside. The portal swallowed the pulse, stabilising the magic, drowning out the resonance… And then, in a moment, released something like an echo. Nokk turned his head slightly to the right, trying to pick out the aftershock better. After a few moments of listening, he finally stopped resembling a statue and said.

— Close enough. The likely exit is at the outskirts of the city… Caution is needed. The land around Woodmur is mostly swamp. Landing in the swamp itself would be… cumbersome.
— Don't worry about that, this baby can ride on damn about anything at this point. Ah, yes, that reminds me — if we're stopped by cops, you don't know anything about any cars. Especially not about my hearse.

Nokk didn't understand how he would explain that to the police, while sitting inside the said hearse. But he guessed that the mistress had some kind of plan, or just had some details about this car that were better left untold, which is why he looked back at her and nodded.

— Copy.
— I meant how they are supposed to work and all that, for the record. Baby is heavily modified.

Nokk nodded once again, showing that he understood the reasoning behind the order, and got into the hearse after the mistress. Attempted at least, the front seat was occupied by a child seat.

— Sit in the back, I’ve spent an ungodly amount of time trying to bolt this thing on.

So Nokk did.

— The back seat, dammit, not the trunk. Just fiddle with them, they’re fold-seats. Oh, and belt on, I turn like a cheetah trespassing straight into the mirror dimension.

He, of course, tried to follow the orders to the letter. The problem was that hearses, as it turned out, mostly possessed features not commonly found in motorcycles. But eventually Nokk had figured it out and successfully seated himself in the car.

“Mirror dimension cheetah” didn’t begin to describe how the mistress handled the hearse. Somehow, being hog-tied in the back of the former master’s motorcycle seemed less dangerous for everyone involved. Nokk didn’t get to go far in his thought process, as he nearly kissed the headrest of the front seat as the mistress hit the brakes. Luckily, he managed to catch himself with his hands.

The landscape outside of the car was… a bog. A swamp, vast and overgrown with various plantlife, from old trees to bright flowers.

— Beautiful swamp, I really should properly visit it sometime… Would you kindly check for living beings around? — The mistress exited the car about as soon as it stopped.

Nokk nodded, opening the door and stepping out of the car, and was actually about to do it, but… Checking proved unnecessary, since a pack of savtktani came up right to the hearse. They were young, probably just got to organise a pack of their own. Their leader is a savtktanque with long, poorly dyed dark hair, and dressed in a skimpy outfit. Imeje was all for dressing however the hell you felt like, and skinny-dipping in swamps, but the way the savtktanque stood made it blatantly obvious she was not only extremely uncomfortable dressing like that, but also was freezing, which isn't an ideal combination in general. Let alone in a swamp.

— Hey. Area's off limits. Leave while you have legs.

Nokk froze at that for exactly half a second. His eyes narrowed, beginning to glow slightly greenish, as he looked at the talking savtktanque, sizing her up and assessing. He stepped forward slightly, fully prepared to throttle her at the first order of his mistress. While he was used to being treated like an object, as he should have been, this person had dared to disrespect his mistress. And while he didn't quite gauge the mistress's character yet, his former masters never let any of the real or imagined offences slide.

The mistress in question, however, looked just as unfazed by the gang of savtktani as it got.

— Don't care, didn't ask, won't obey. Nokk, dear, draw a teaspoon of blood for me, will you? We should introduce ourselves to the resident mochvara. The distortion is wild here. Better to confirm with a resident spirit than drive blind. Oh, and grab my bag while you're at it.

That was it? No retaliation, not even reprimanding them for their behaviour? Did the mistress care that little?

Well, they did have more pressing matters than a gang of hooligans at hand. That was true. So, Nokk obeyed the order, silently moving towards the trunk and grabbing a long bag from there. Very familiar long bag with some kind of long metal object inside.

He turned it in his hands, glancing over it. Hm. Yes, indeed, it was what he thought it was. Perhaps he tried gauging the mistress's character too soon.

— HEY! Eyes on me, bitch! — The leader grabbed Imeje by the shoulder.
— You really should work on your choice of words. You wouldn't want to end up in trouble, would you?
— Funny to hear that from bait. — The savtktanque swung at her, only to end up in a headlock.
— Here's a little tip, since you're new to this – don't cross who you can't maul. Nokk, I allow whatever. — Nokk immediately pointed the shotgun at the rest, scaring them out of following their leader. — Now, since we’re in a predicament, have you seen a witchen child around here last night or so?

Instead, the savtktanque howled, before Imeje could cover her mouth. Not an ideal answer.

Suddenly, the surrounding air stilled. Then the swamp water bubbled, churning, as if boiling. Nokk looked around, feeling a shift in the air… and then he found a source of the sudden atmosphere change.

A large glowing cloud, or shape of magic, in the forest behind the hooligans. So large that it overshadowed the actual figure that was standing there, near an old-looking tree. It took Nokk a whole half a second to focus on the more physical matter of a human-like silhouette, covered with leaves, weeds and silt, staring at him and the mistress with glowing green eyes.

— Now-now. — The figure’s eyes narrowed, something glowing green in his hand – some kind of hook. The figure’s voice sounded not too angry, but there was this dangerous, sharp tone in their rumbling and growling voice. — What have we here?
— Oh, in cahoots with a mochvara? Smart. You should’ve stuck to that as your main tactic.
— You have me in a headlock, why the fuck are you giving me tips?!
— Because I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have known what to do if that punch landed, you could use some better options. You can't be that low in the hierarchy for this to be the only way. Don't bother answering, though, I don't care enough. Anyway, mochvara, sir, we’re in search of my son. He passed here some hours ago in the company of two adults, one of them a forest witch. Do you perchance know which way they exited the swamp?

— Hmph. — The humanoid silhouette of said mochvara seemed rather dismissive and aggressive. But he hadn't attacked yet, so Nokk decided it was a good sign. — You hold a guest of mine, however stupid she might be, at gunpoint in a headlock, on my turf. And you think I am interested in answering your question?

— Oh, and you're a goddamn mouldy Fibonacci?!

Swamp creature shot the “guest in a headlock” a glare.

— Miina, shut your trap, adults are talking.

— I’m paying blood. — The mistress waved Nokk off, as the savtktanque struggled to keep balance. Nokk had reluctantly lowered the shotgun, still prepared to aim and fire at the gang of hooligans, but there seemed to be no need.

That offer was something the spirit actually considered, after which he, reluctantly as it was, finally said.

— …As long as it's not hers. — Spirit waved vaguely in Miina’s direction. Then tilted their head. — How much blood are you paying? Because I can tell you about someone matching your description, but the breach of hospitality laws… — The spirit made a strange gurgling sound, as if chuckling, eyeing first Imeje, then Miina. – That'll cost you an arm and a leg, if you're ever willing to come back here.

— Don't worry about that. If you grab her by the pronghorn or something akin to that, so that I know for sure I will not have to dodge another lousy punch, she'll be as safe as can be. Now, for the blood, I am somewhat of a hunter. The least I can do is a couple of mourning doves. The most I can do is a deer, of course, if such roam near, time is a pressing matter. The best I can do is a surprise. — She smiled slyly. — In any way, I will add from myself, as per tradition.

The swamp creature grunted, eyeing the mistress with eyes more curious than hostile now – their glow had slightly diminished. After which the creature changed its grip on the chain-hook and swung it in practised, swift motion. Before anyone could react, however, the glowing flying chain collided with Miina's waist and quickly folded around it, twisting around her until the hook locked itself on the chain, creating a leash.

— Secure. — The spirit tugged the chain slightly, checking it seemingly more out of habit than necessity, and then said, with a smirk in his voice, looking back at Imeje. — Show me your best, witch.

— As you wish. — She smiled. — Nokk, dear, pass me the gun and the shell belt.

Nokk, still observing the gang and the spirit, slowly nodded, then did as instructed, tossing the shotgun and the bandolier towards the mistress.

Having caught the items, she picked a blue shotgun shell from the belt and shot straight up. After a minute or so, she imitated a call of a mourning dove, then shot another blue shell. Then, loaded two red shells.

As the storm clouds closed in, she made another mourning dove call. With a crack of lightning, a cobalt-blue serpent appeared.

— You've nagged me just enough. – She mumbled, aiming.

With two shots to the head, the serpent dropped dead 30-something meters away from them into the swamp.

— All yours, sir. And here's from me. — She ripped out a molar and threw it into the water. — Nokk, don't you dare copy. You give blood. A spoonful.

— Understood. — Nokk, finally deciding to stop watching the savtktani, who stood in what looked like shock or awe, took out a knife from his pocket holster and pricked his finger, deep enough to bleed, then extended his hand above the water, and let the blood drop.

After a few drops, the spirit, who still stared in the direction of where the serpent’s body landed in the water, finally turned to glance at Nokk.

— Enough. — The spirit then yanked the chain in his hands and made Miina stagger a few steps back, the pack following suit. And looked at the mistress again. — That… was impressive, I’ll admit. So… friend. What’s that you asked? The witchen child?

After the swamp spirit’s explanation, it became apparent that the mistress’s child and the strange company he was amongst had already left for the city, a few hours ago. The spirit was sure of it, since he led them there himself and saw to it. But other than that, the spirit could tell little else about young Toma’s adventures. Well. Besides creatinga magical path through the swamp for the mistress's hearse.

— Safe travels. And do drop by again.