Extermination (Daniel Black Book 3) (42 page)

Turning myself into an elf took about an hour. My flesh sorcery made the whole process rather easy, which really made me wish I’d held onto that element long enough to get a few more transformation options. It would be insanely useful to be able to do customized shapeshifting. Of course, that would have meant giving up something else, and I’m not sure I’d be alive today if I’d made that trade.

Being an elf was weird. Apparently svartalfar have amazingly acute senses, which took some getting used to. Not to mention perfect balance, improved reaction times and a surprising amount of strength. I’d definitely have to figure out a way to keep some of those benefits when I turned back.

Probably the most disconcerting change was the one I discovered when I went to take a leak. I don’t know why I assumed elves would be put together just like humans down there, but they aren’t. I’m sure an expert could have deduced all sorts of interesting things about elven mating customs from the subtle differences in morphology, but I couldn’t get past the fact that it was bright pink.

Yeah, okay, switching that back to normal right now. It’s not like the ape men were going to be checking out my junk.

Tavrin was momentarily flabbergasted when I showed him the transformation, especially when he realized that it wasn’t an illusion. But once I explained my plan he adapted, and organized everything with his usual brisk efficiency.

“A typical trading expedition would move too slowly, and risk too many assets,” he explained. “But there are other options. Clan Vinyathos occasionally buys exotic drugs from the andregi, and pays with gems. So we can impersonate one of their parties without needing pack animals or golems.”

“Your rivals are into drug trading?” I asked.

“Not for their own use, of course. Decadent as they are, Vinyathos isn’t that foolish. But they like to dabble in human politics, and introducing powerful drugs to a population that isn’t familiar with them is an effective way to weaken rivals without risking a war. Personally I think it’s a foolish policy, since it also creates enemies and fosters an unsavory reputation.”

“Yeah, I have to agree with you there. How would you do it?”

He shrugged. “Nethwillin generally avoids being drawn into human politics. It takes a great deal of effort to control events, and the rewards are seldom worth it. All too often you spend a decade trying to engineer the ascendancy of your chosen faction, only to see the whole scheme unravel with the death of a key human. I’ve always preferred simple assassination as a means of removing obstacles and punishing treachery.”

That did sound like their style.

“Alright, so we’re drug traders. I guess that means the group needs a skilled merchant, a couple of guys to carry the goods, and some guards?”

“Almost right. Vinyathos uses expanding bags for smuggling, so you won’t need any porters. Let’s see, we want to keep this deal small so it doesn’t take too long. I’ll have Othvin lead the group, he has a couple of small pouches with illusion wards that would be suitable. A trip like this only calls for a few hundred pounds of carrying capacity.”

“Wait, hold on a minute. You guys have bags of holding? With, what, illusions to make them look normal if someone else opens them?”

Tavrin smiled. “Yes. Space expansion is a rare art, but the clan strives to cultivate it. We actually have three mages who can cast such enchantments right now, although only one is here. Did you have something in mind?”

If they had artifacts like that, why hadn’t they used them in the evacuation of Yinthalos? Well, obviously they had. If a couple of ‘small’ pouches could hold a few hundred pounds of material, that implied there were ‘large’ ones that could hold a lot more. They’d probably smuggled tons of hidden treasure out of their settlement, in addition to the cargo that I’d seen.

I shook my head. “I’ll have to think about that one. You guys certainly have a lot of interesting resources. How long will it take to set this up?”

“When do you need to leave?”

It turned out that he could throw the whole thing together overnight, which impressed me even more. My own preparations took longer, and I made a point of reserving an afternoon and evening to properly say goodbye to my ladies this time. But we ended up leaving just four days after the destruction of the andregi encampments.

“I wish I could go with you,” Cerise said regretfully as we prepared to depart.

“I don’t think trying to turn you into an elf would be a good idea,” I pointed out. “Besides, as much as I’d love to have you at my back I’ll sleep better knowing you’re here to keep an eye on things. We’ve probably got some time yet before the andregi come back, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they try an assassination mission next.”

She grinned. “That would be fun. Don’t worry, big guy, I’ll keep our girls safe. You’d better not be gone too long, though, or I might convince them that tail is better than dick.”

She waved her tail in the air for emphasis. I laughed, and pulled her into a kiss.

“You do that, imp. Maybe you can get your little dryad minions in on it, and keep them too distracted to worry. I’ll be back in a few days, promise.”

This was obviously a case where stealth was more important than firepower, so there were only five elves in the group. As planned, we were all carefully disguised as members of clan Vinyathos. I found it interesting that Tavrin had been able to procure all the necessary props for that disguise so quickly, especially the rather intricate custom-fitted armor.

“Nethwillin does have some experience with espionage,” he’d said blandly when I asked. “The andregi are not likely to spot minor inconsistencies, but it would be unwise to make assumptions.”

I was starting to wonder if I’d taken in some kind of elven ninja clan, to be honest. Except that they were just as good at trading and working a ship as they were at the sneaky stuff. If the whole merchant clan thing was just a cover they certainly put in the work to make it convincing.

My companions for this trip were all male, which surprised me a little since the elves had struck me as pretty egalitarian so far. Othvin, the leader of the group, had an interesting explanation for that one.

“We actually try to spare our women the more dangerous duties when we have the luxury of choice, my lord. Unlike humans our women are just as capable as our men, but there will be even fewer children if any of them die in battle.”

“Unlike humans, huh?” I asked.

“Well, obviously. Human males are easily twice as strong as females, not to mention considerably larger and more robust. Those are vital considerations in a race that doesn’t live long enough to learn true skill in battle. Among the svartalfar these differences are much less pronounced, and in any event our prowess rests on skill rather than brute force.”

“I’d wondered about that,” I admitted. “Although your women are all so well-endowed I’m amazed they can move so gracefully.”

He grinned. “I’m told that the exuberant womanhood of the svartalfar is an impediment to many physical pursuits, but a blessing in more psychological contests. It’s amazing how easily outsiders are distracted by a little bounce and fluff. Most of our better agents of influence are women, because their wiles are so effective on the races of men.”

I chuckled. “Oh, so that’s why Sefwin seems to be recruiting only women for the Secret Service. Well, I suppose it’s a job that plays to their strengths. But what if the andregi realize why there aren’t any women with our group?”

“Ah, but there’s more to it than that, my lord. In her hatred of civilization Gaea made her children a race of animals, with little control over their natural instincts. In particular, their females have a cycle that sends them into heat for several days every three months or so. When that happens they mate indiscriminately with any male they encounter, and the males are quite inflamed by their scent. The males thus have no concept of courtship or even consent, and to their noses the women of other races are always in season.”

I had to stop and think about that one. “So if they meet a human or elven woman they’ll think she’s in heat, and try to rape her? Yeah, that would be a good reason to only send men to trade with them. But I’m surprised a goddess would set up such a male dominated society.”

“Oh, the andregi are very much ruled by their women, my lord. They have no concept of true land ownership, instead seeing the right to hunt or cultivate a plot as a divine blessing passed down from mother to daughter. Their females are also the priestesses of Gaea, and the judges of all disputes. The males hunt and farm at the direction of their women, when they aren’t beating each other up as a mating display.

“As for their cycles, an andregi female generally knows when her time is approaching and sequesters herself with a group of males that she finds appealing. The chosen males fight among themselves over mating order, but they’ll also unite to keep others away from their temporary mate. When she comes into season both sexes become quite senseless in their lust, and rut constantly until her time ends.”

“Sounds brutal,” I said.

He shrugged. “The andregi are a brutal people, but Gaea was wise enough to make their bodies suited to their needs. They consider their regular bouts of irrepressible passion a divine blessing, actually. The custom also ensures that no male will ever be certain who his children are, which I’m sure helps to cement female control of their society.”

I frowned. “I suppose I can see how that would work. It’s odd that they react to females of a different species, though.”

“I rather imagine that was intentional, my lord,” Othvin pointed out. “Gaea made them to enact her vengeance against the men that Zeus so favored, and what better way to get revenge than by raping their women to death?”

I was sorely tempted to find Gaea’s palace and try out some of my new weapon ideas there. But no, she was a goddess. It probably wouldn’t kill her, and even if it did she wouldn’t stay dead for long. In the end I’d just piss her off, and I couldn’t survive that kind of attention. The plan here was to arrange a mysterious disaster that would get her minions off my back, and erase some of the advantage that she’d brought to Loki’s side when she decided to fight with him.

If I was lucky these divine assholes would all kill each other off when they finally started fighting each other. If I was really lucky, maybe I’d get to help Hecate finish off the survivors someday.

We left the citadel on board the
Intrepid
, to minimize the chance that anyone would be aware of our departure. The airship had been making constant voyages ever since Irithil had taken command, evacuating Nethwillin’s various settlements and trading outposts. So no one was likely to wonder why it was leaving again, especially since it would be returning with another load of elves and cargo in a few days.

My borrowed gear was unfamiliar, and I felt a little naked without my enchanted armor. There hadn’t been any real choice about it, though. The elves were quite good at anti-divination spells, and I was confident the wards on the leather armor I wore would hide the enchantments of my amulet and talisman from any prying eyes. But human-style armor would have made me stand out, and my long coat was distinctive enough that someone might recognize it. I was nervous enough about the fact that my face was still recognizably me.

I’d thought about changing that, and then realized that my sorcery didn’t provide any convenient method of undoing such a cosmetic change. I’d have to rely on my own memory to figure out what I’d changed, and given that I didn’t have any particular talent in that direction I had a feeling I’d never get my face back the way it had started. So I’d just have to rely on the fact that they don’t have photographs in this world, and there weren’t a lot of enemies who’d seen me and gotten away afterwards.

I realized I was fidgeting again, and stopped. Elves don’t fidget. I tried to imitate the relaxed demeanor of the rest of the team, but it wasn’t easy. I needed a distraction.

Well, studying the translation ring Tavrin had given me would do. I’d had no idea such a thing was even possible, but as he’d pointed out an elf who didn’t speak elvish would stand out. Not to mention that the andregi spoke their own language, a tongue distantly related to Ancient Greek. Fortunately Nethwillin had several translation devices in their treasury, including one that ‘knew’ both of those languages as well as the Varmlander tongue.

It was a fantastically complex enchantment. I was quickly coming to the conclusion that it actually had whole languages encoded in the structure of the magic somehow, and the interface that made that information accessible to the wearer’s mind was a work of art. Someone had spent decades crafting this thing, and it showed.

“Clear visibility,” Othvin commented, looking out the windows around one of the gunnery positions. “When we set down the ship will be visible for miles. I hope the enemy isn’t watching us closely enough to connect the
Intrepid’s
movements with our arrival in Skogheim.”

“It can’t be helped,” one of the other elves said. Withril, that was his name.

Another one, Leskin, nodded in agreement. “Conjuring weather to hide us would only draw more attention. So unless you want to just jump out I think we’re stuck with making a landing.”

Heh. That gave me an idea.

“Well, jumping is an option. I’ve got a spell for arresting falls, and it will work from any altitude. Might be a little hair-raising when you suddenly bounce to a stop a few feet off the ground, but what’s life without a little excitement?”