PART THREE: PROGRESS

  CHAPTER 30

  HE KILLED HIM! HE'S DEAD! RAN WOULD KILL HIM! RAN WOULD KILL THEM ALL!

  Six Days

  Wag needed to hurry the maw up. E was tired of beating the kid.

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  Ten Days

  Nail wandered the Given city. A beaten man. A beaten dog.

  Scarfless, swordless. . .shineless.

  More or less.

  Without shine, what? Tactician? Officer? Soldier? Those needed wars, however. Nail wanted no more wars.

  Nail Starson was afraid. Truly afraid he might lose all his shine next time. Afraid his shine would always be unreliable.

  A scholar, then? He almost smiled. Nonsense.

  He was tempted to look to his gauge. To see if his sun were burning or spluttering. . . or out. He lacked the courage.

  He had not prayed, properly, in days.

  One and Only, he thought, there is no man more miserable than I.

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  Twelve Days

  Rina was the most miserable on all Nameless and she didn’t care that any man anywhere might have thought different. She'd punch that guy if she could.

  Two times six.

  Six to write all.

  Twelve days she’d waited for that author, however insufficient a Sebi she may be.

  Does that make me Her? she thought sardonically. The one He called 'Vital'?

  Across the way, in the twin of her own cell, her He bellowed an obnoxiously loud snore.

  This Nameless world is too cruel.

  In truth, she’d been lucky the fool was there. She’d be dead otherwise.

  Another great snore. Rina wondered how bad death could really be.

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  "Kill her,” the hazel-eyed Urba had said the morning they’d brought her, flitting in and out of consciousness, into the cell and dropped her like laundry.

  Urba and Ferapa, out of their robes, stood over her outside the glass door of her cell.

  Despite the haze, she gathered pride in how much their surrounding guards shuffled in her presence, how they avoided her eyes. A bright light in the endless tunnel of pain and confusion that had been her mind.

  "Calm, Urba,” Ferapa said, his eyes always fixed on the second cell. To Rina he’d said, with an unusually wide smile, "Though my fellow Word is right my lady. Urba is no lover of your eyes, I fear. It would be in your best interest to tell all you know about what happened today, now.”

  "Calm? Did you see what it did? We should execute the shaking guards for not killing this, this, thing in the amphitheater!”

  The men behind Urba stirred again.

  She wanted to answer the fool, but of course she couldn't. It was all her strength then just to sit, propped up against the wall, and keep her eyes open.

  "Kill it, NOW!” Urba insisted. "Deathcloud did something to it. Drugged her. Oh Rokk!” Urba’s hands shot up to cover his mouth, "What if one of her magics is to poison the air?”

  "Are you ever not an idiot?”

  They all turned to find the real fool, the total fool, who had pressed his face against the glass of his own cell so hard it was red, his cheeks twin circles, his lips bulging.

  One guard struck the glass and Pilgrim pulled back, but only for a moment.

  "Eeeee’s eh ebi einer,” he said through pressed lips. Pulled his face back. "Dumb shakers.”

  "Traitor!” Urba snarled. "Broken!”

  Pilgrim blew on the glass, laughed at the flatulent sound. "Oh, you got bigger problems than traitor.” He smiled.

  "Stop calling me 'shaker’ barbarian! I am a Word!”

  Rina was struck at how odd the Given looked without his coat and belt. She’d never seen him lack either. Not thinner, for the man had broad shoulders. . .jest less somehow.

  "Our walls,” Ferapa said calmly, but haltingly, "our power--”

  "She’s a powerful shiner,” he looked at Urba, "shaker. She held her own against that Deathcloud chick.” Again he looked at Urba. "Shaker. You really think wherever she comes from she isn’t very, very important?”

  Urba would have answered, Ferapa waved him silent, so instead Urba’s eyes bulged.

  "I’ve been all over this Nameless world, and I can tell you shiners as powerful as her tend to fall into one of three categories: despot, general, bandit. None of those works out well for you guys cause it’s incredibly likely she’s been in contact with her people since arriving. What do you all think those Sebi are going to do if you kill her?”

  The Words both seemed stunned.

  "Aw. Shaker. See, the lights finally went on. Shaker. With First on red alert, you want another fight just now, or a bargaining chip?” He looked at Urba, "Shaker.”

  The ugly Word stomped from the room. Ferapa remained, his cold, dull blues trained on Pilgrim. "Her fate is not tied to yours, if that’s your angle. I could end you now.”

  Pilgrim only stared back, but his smirk said it all. 'The other one’s at least worth mocking. You’re not even worth talking to.’

  "I will find that boy, his family all your estate. It might take a lot of blood, but only if you force me to it. Think on it, Wayfarer. I have very powerful people whispering into my ear to kill you. Were it not for the fact that they’re so busy, and I so determined to root out your rats, I would satisfy them.”

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  Pilgrim lifted his pinky.

  Ferapa’s face crimsoned. "Fine!” He turned to a guard, "Hilp, they are yours. Round the clock, understand? If it happens to them, it happens to you.” To the other he said, "From this moment you are my shadow, Lippi. Our powerful,” he had made sure to emphasize the word, "friends need to be constantly reminded we aren’t kittens. With me.”

  Just before they exited Ferapa turned and said, "Leave them in dark. It is more conducive to much thinking.” Hilp switched off the light and Rina had heard the outer glass door hiss shut, and lock.

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  The subsequent fortnight’s only landmarks were irregular beatings on Pilgrim by Hilp and Lippi. Ferapa was present only for some of these. Rina knew from his eyes the Word didn’t have the fortitude.

  For his part, Pilgrim never spoke.

  Actually it was more accurate to say he never rolled on his people. In fact he said many words. Many bad, bad words. In strings and formations Rina had never before heard.

  She couldn’t imagine how any man could take these without killing, and the brutes wanted to.

  No matter the combinations, no matter the placements, though they only worked the body, it would end with Pilgrim grinning in a pile and them leaving in curses before shutting off the horrible, craved light.

  This morning Ferapa had required several minutes of deep breathing and a back massage from Sitor to calm himself before exiting the cell. It seemed the bald man was, slowly, driving the Word insane.

  "You suck,” Pilgrim called as the cell door hissed shut.

  "Move!” Ferapa proceeded to shower his guards with the anger he was unable to direct at Pilgrim. "There is no way, no way that this, this, fool, this abomination, this. . .this. . . dumb dumb is what he fears! Wasting all of this time when I could be looking for his estate!”

  This time, as they left, something odd happened. Hilp started through the door but suddenly, measuredly, turned to Pilgrim, his face was dour, but concentrated, as if teasing out a riddle.

  Pilgrim held his tendered ribs with one hand, gave a small mock salute with the other. Hilp shook his head and left the room.

  Left the room with the light on.

  The rush of cool, fresh air that sucked in and out of the glass door once again confirmed that, unlike in many of the prisons and dungeons Rina had known, this one was above ground. One of the Canton towers, most like. Rina filed this information away and waited for the sound of the outer door’s click before she moved. Pilgrim had stalled her death, but this wasn’t infinite. They needed to believe her barely more than lame.

  But neither could she afford to be totally idle. Slowly she moved one leg, tracing the muscles and massaging each out. Then the other. Then her hips, abs, arms, neck.

  Coordination was returning, if sluggishly. She would never again complain og long journeys if she could only just walk like a person again.

  "What you call your sword?”

  Rina looked up to find Pilgrim leaning against his cell wall, looking at her. They’d not spoken once in two weeks, though she caught him stealing glances here and there.

  Thankfully he was a perfect gentleman when she’d needed the toilet.

  "Why?” her long unused voice croaked.

  "Warriors name their weapons. At least, on tv. In comics. trashy novels. And a play or two. . . sometimes. . .”

  He listed vehicles for naming weapons for five straight minutes. Ante kill me, Rina thought.

  Pilgrim looked around then, as if checking for eavesdroppers. "Sorry. I am just so tired of this,” and then he screamed, "SILENCE!”

  Rina lurched. Hit her head. "Buffon! Why do you always scream at weird times? Why?”

  "Like to make sure people are paying attention. I talk lots. Folks drift if I don’t change it up. I work so hard crafting each and everything I say, too.”

  She resumed stretching, this time splitting her legs, sliding forward until her chest touched the ground. "How rude of them.”

  Pilgrim truly laughed. "You can’t sound derisive, even if you want to!”

  "I can!”

  "You’re precious. Stop making that little face at me! I’m giving you a compliment. You’re too much a straight-shooter to realize you always, always sounds sincere.”

  "I’ll show you derisive you psychotic Given. . .”

  "Gonna answer my question?”

  "No.”

  "C’mon.”

  "No.”

  "Groooooooooooooan.”

  "Don’t whine. Ante, you are a man.”

  "I’ll just keep bothering you. I have literally nothing else to do.”

  Rina pressed her lips together. "I should just be grateful you’re not sucking glass today.”

  Pilgrim waved a hand. "Bah."

  "If I tell you--”

  "Nah. I waited two weeks for signs of weakness. Now I got you talkin’ I likely won’t stop. What? Just being honest.”

  "Doe of the Dawn.”

  "Wow,” he nodded approvingly. "That is. . .way more beautiful than Pielag.”

  Rina almost choked, "Pi-what? Are you having a stroke?”

  "You wish! It was in a comic.”

  "A comic by an idiot.” Without thinking she said, "It was my da’s name for me.” The ache sliced her. Now it’s gone. Her eyes stung. She shook her head. It’s just a shaking sword, she thought. Maim’s gift.

  "I’m sure they’ve still got it.”

  She looked at him.

  "They’d never toss that much skeel. And they can’t re-forge it without sending it Crater.”

  Rina hardened her eyes; she’d die before she sniffled. "I’m aware.”

  "Speaking of that stuff, why don’t you, y’know?” Pilgrim looked around the room while making exaggerated, cartoonish gestures with his face and hands, complete with loud sound effects. It was so sudden, so unexpected, and so silly, that it took all her discipline to not laugh. Am I such a child?

  The remnant of a giggle did cough out from her when she said, "The First. She had something. Something wrong.”

  Thinking of E distraught, equal parts impotent rage and shame. Rina was, indeed, a child.

  "Something?” Pilgrim said. Then he shook his head and said, somewhat sadly, "She’s alive, eh?”

  "For now.”

  "The Rockman?

  "Last I saw.”

  "Poor Fritz.”

  "P-poor. . .What?!” Rina opened her mouth and a sound an angry goat might make came out, "Poor Fritz?! The maw do you mean 'poor Fritz’? Her name’s not even Fritz. It’s E.”

  He shrugged. "I like Fritz better.”

  "She tried to kill me.”

  "I hear you both did lots of 'trying’. But you didn’t, she didn’t.”

  "Tried to kill you!”

  "You’re right. Now I hope someone sets her on fire.”

  "I’m going to kill her!”

  "Don’t be a child.”

  "What? Don’t talk to me like that!”

  "She’s your friend.”

  "I knew her a day and a half.”

  "Maw’s that got to do with it?”

  The memories flooded Rina’s mind. Light. Pain. Like the underside of her skin was soaked in agony. A week to regain full control of her body. But her shine. . . My shine. . . She reached out again, praying. Nothing. An empty well. It has to come back. It has to. It’s tied to my life. I’d be dead... But Gam, himself not a shiner, had taught her this. She’d read it in books as well, but had no way of knowing, for sure.

  "Something?” Pilgrim again mused.

  "A weapon.” A tiny sun that stole her shine. "A bright. . .ball.”

  "Ball?” He seemed genuinely surprised, maybe even curious.

  "You know what it was?”

  A second too long later, he shook his head. "It just sounds so weird.”

  Rina’s eyes narrowed. Her turn to fish. "I see they took your belt. Really does you good. That thing is ugly as revolt.”

  "Shut up.”

  "I do miss the jacket. Sorry they took it.”

  Pilgrim smiled, tapped above his eye knowingly, and with serenity said, "They think they took it. But it’s not something anyone can take.”

  Rina frowned.

  He smiled.

  Her frown deepened.

  His smile widened.

  "Ok. . ." She tried again. "But, I mean, they did take it, though.”

  Pilgrim seemed to become gray, indistinct and very far off, was silent for two seconds.

  Then he screamed, YOU'RE RIGHT! THEY TOOK IT! MY SPECIAL JACKET. Hands on the sides of his head, the maniac began to run back and forth around his cell, disappearing every so often behind the wall that, mercifully, blocked his toilet. "TOOK IT! PILLARSHAKERS! That jacket was a gift from someone very dear and that rat bastard Ferapa is probably using it as ASS-WARMER!" He began to wail.

  "Calm down!” She kept glancing at the hall, sure she’d find Hilp scowling. "I’m sure it’s fine.” The bald man continued to throw himself back and forth.

  "This place sucks! What kind of a person would take something as special as a dude’s special jacket!”

  "When there is no Reed Ante’s tune is not; the city knows not song of law.”

  Pilgrim stopped, he’d been flopping around on the ground like a landed fish, smiled, and said, "The Sayings.”

  "Our Archives,” said Rina.

  "Our Archives too.” Still he was on the ground, smiling like a moron.

  "You are the weirdest, Pilgrim. That’s from one who used to fight Ligan all day.” Pilgrim slid back until he rested on the bundle of blankets on the floor that served as the twin to the most uncomfortable bed Rina had ever known.

  "Was Ran ok when he left?”

  Again, her eyes narrowed. "What?”

  Her face betrayed her suspicion, for Pilgrim cleared his throat, rubbed his neck. "When he left in Central. After I got knocked the shake out.”

  "He was fine the last time I saw,” Rina said coldly, and she thought coldy, you liar. "The boy and his brother both. Who knows what the narokk did to them?”

  "She wouldn’t hurt them.”

  Rina grunted, turned away to her own blankets, pretending to sleep that she might think.

  What if I did escape? If the Words don’t have him, assuming they’re telling the truth. He’s in First then. She didn’t stand a chance against E without shine, even if she found a way in. She reached for her gauge, deeper within than she had yet dared look. Empty. No blue, no living crusts of the world, grinding and pulling against one another. Empty.

  Ran better be ok, E. You think you’ve seen the utmost of my power? I’ll turn you to living ash and make you feel every bit of yourself float away on the wind. If you have hurt him, death will be a thing you yearn for.