For all Caen knew, the Summoners might already be sending more summoned creatures to their location.

  The contract required Caen to get rid of the shadeling’s current pursuers in exchange for information. And as long as summoned creatures kept attacking this shadeling here, Caen would be ‘bound’ to put an end to those attacks. He could always just terminate the magical agreement, of course, but he needed answers.

  “I do not know what the object is,” the shadeling admitted hurriedly. “All I know is that I could sense the essence of many shadelings emanating from it. Please, there is no time. You have to release me. She took my tail, and now that she's dead, the tail might be lost to the Overlayer any moment.”

  “This object you stole,” Caen pressed, “where is it now? It might be the only thing capable of appeasing your pursuers.”

  “I have fused with the object already,” the shadeling said. “It is impossible to return it. My tail, please. She stored it within herself, and I must retrieve it now. Please.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “The process is instantaneous,” the shadeling begged.

  “And it will not require you to eat the corpse?”

  “No.”

  Hshnol had already reinforced the contract that prevented the shadeling from running away, so Caen wasn’t too worried that it would try to flee.

  He turned to the Percipients and spoke in Thermish. “It says that it needs to collect its tail from the large shadeling.”

  As soon as the Percipients retracted their auras, the shadeling darted for the larger shadeling and flowed into the creature. A moment later, the shadeling flowed out of the corpse with two tails floating behind it.

  Caen connected to the creature. Its soul was no stronger than it’d been a moment ago.

  “The Summoners,” Caen said. “We should meet with them to talk. It’s that or wait for another attack.”

  “They didn't seem all too reasonable to me,” Aunt Vensha said. “But… I suppose they did give us a chance to back out at the start.“

  “It’s a long way from here,” Uncle Teiro said. “And we might want to speak with the approaching enforcers first.”

  The shadeling slipped into Caen’s shadow an instant before Caen felt presences closing in. He still couldn’t place the shadeling’s exact location, but somehow, he was still connected to it.

  He put that out of mind for now and turned to his left. A group of six was covering the distance very quickly.

  “Drenlin city deputes!” a familiar voice called. “Do not move.”

  Everyone held their positions as the newcomers reached them. The deputes were dressed in matching armor marked with the colors of Rialgar: red and green. Four late Attuners and two peak Attuners.

  One of the deputes held up a glowing cylinder that washed the area in yellow light. The deputes glanced around at the dozens of two-tailed corpses with varying degrees of surprise. Several portions of the ground were darkened from the six fireballs.

  Leading the group was a depute whom Caen recognized. This was the woman who had shot him with a mana bolt the last time he was in Redshadow. Caen’s face was concealed by Chasma, so she certainly wouldn’t recognize him.

  Her eyes were quickly drawn to the three Percipients in their group. Her stern gaze suddenly became very polite.

  “Mages,” she greeted with a respectful bow. “And High Priest Sh’kteiro, if I am correct. I am Depute Kayata. Would you be so kind as to tell us what happened here? We heard a large explosion going off at this location.”

  “Greetings, Depute Kayata,” Sh’kteiro replied with a genial nod. “I apologize for the disturbance. We were attacked and might have used more force than was warranted.”

  “I… see. Thank you, High Priest. My superior might require a detailed account of events from you or your colleagues, if you’re so inclined.”

  “Of course, depute,” he said. “That won’t be a problem at all. My companions and I have a few more affairs to take care of, and then I’ll be available for questioning. I can be found at the Edict temple whenever.”

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  “Thank you, High Priest,” Kayata said, bowing again. A shorter bow this time. “We will need to inspect the scene, also.”

  “Please,” he gestured.

  After another bow, she and the other deputes began moving through the vicinity.

  Laws were far more lenient where Percipients were concerned, regardless of the infraction they committed. Any reasonably minded Attuner treated them with utmost deference.

  “The corpses—” Caen began.

  “We’ll handle it,” Sormot said, making a signal to her subordinates. Two of them nodded.

  “Thank you, Sormot,” Caen replied. “Uncle Teiro?”

  “I’ll lead the way,” Sh’kteiro said.

  ***

  After weaving through the tight streets between Southway’s closely packed buildings, they soon arrived at a cluster of unassuming bungalows. It was barely 1 in the morning.

  “This is it?” Mafrolem asked from the back of the group.

  “It houses an underground shelter,” Sh’kteiro said. “That’s where I tracked the Summoners to.”

  Sormot walked up to the door and pounded on it three times.

  A few seconds later, a man with unusually large eyes and blue-tinged skin cracked the door open and peered through. His soul structure revealed that he was not a Summoner. “What do you want?” he asked in an unfamiliar accent.

  Sormot placed a hand on the door.

  “Good evening,” Caen said. “We’re here to speak to the people downstairs.”

  The man’s eyes widened, and he rushed to close the door, but it didn’t budge an inch.

  Sormot moved it open all the way with casual ease and stepped in. She patted his shoulder sympathetically as she walked past.

  Caen and the others followed.

  Several people here in the room—some of whom resembled the man by the door—reached for weapons, rushed to their feet, or made arcane gestures, but they all froze up.

  The Percipients had clearly flared their auras on them.

  Caen could feel presences below his feet, and one of those stood out distinctly to his senses. A Percipient.

  Sh’kteiro pointed. “The entryway is behind that bookshelf.”

  Sormot moved it aside—the shelf sliding as though there were wheels underneath it—and revealed a staircase. They descended quietly.

  The underground shelter was a large room with glowing and unrecognizable inscriptions carved into the walls. A fluffy carpet covered the ground. One large table sat at the center of the room, and upon it was a complex glass contraption with flashing lights and shifting diagrams.

  Two people stood behind the table, eyeing Caen and the others as they walked in. One was a light-skinned woman with red tattoos on every portion of bare skin. Her soul bore the weight of a peak Attuner, and her aura roiled.

  The other was a stout man with blue skin and unusually large eyes. He was the Percipient.

  “Alright, humans,” the blue-skinned man said, with an annoyed grimace. “We’re willing to discuss amicably.”

  “Don’t be rude,” the tattooed woman said, still watching them, though her attention was on the Percipients. “My name is Povida. This is Bimpthki. I must apologize for how…” she glanced at her companion, “quickly things devolved to violence. This is a very serious matter to us. Are you still open to negotiation?”

  Sh’kteiro, Hshnol, and Sormot looked at Caen.

  “Greetings, Povida and Bimpthki,” Caen said with a polite nod. A part of him was very worried about speaking to a Percipient so casually, but he had three behind him. “We would like to resolve this peacefully, but first, an oath of absolute non-aggression between us.”

  “That is… acceptable,” Povida said, after glancing at her companion.

  Hshnol constructed the terms, and they all agreed to it.

  “If it's truly peace you want,” Bimpthki said, “then you should give us the thieving shadeling, as—”

  “What my associate is trying to say,” Povida smoothly cut in, “is that we intend to recover an artifact which the shadeling has merged with.”

  “Is there any way to separate the shadeling from your item?” Caen asked.

  “Yes, from its corpse,” Bimpthki replied.

  Povida sighed slightly. “Unfortunately, that is partially correct. The fusion is too complete. Subterfuge Of The Third Slant That Contorts Itself This Way And That was willing to assist us by consuming her kin. The prospect of empowering herself was enough of an incentive.”

  “Now that she is dead, you have set us back,” Bimpthki accused.

  Povida nodded. “Extracting our item from the shadeling will severely damage the artifact, but that is a chance we are now willing to take.”

  “What is this artifact, if you don't mind me asking?”

  “You can think of it as a key, of sorts,” Povida replied. “We spent decades consolidating all its components, and the item is of utmost value to us. The preferable outcome would be using the shadeling as the key, but… well, I suppose you have met the creature.”

  “What do you mean?” Caen asked.

  “It has proven thoroughly hostile and unwilling to work with us. It is paranoid beyond measure, and wholly driven by brutal self-interest. A few weeks ago, it sent its clone to try stealing yet another item from us here in Drenlin while we were hunting it down. There is no mutual trust.”

  “If I can bring the shadeling here, will you be amenable to smoothing out your differences?"

  “Our priority is access to our item,” Povida said, “regardless of how that occurs.”

  Bimpthki made a sound of irritation. “I’d gladly sing a Solwn song to have both, but… yes, I would sooner see our item returned than the creature dead.”