Mark of the Fool
Chapter 668: Paranoia

When stalking prey, maintaining proper distance was important.

If one followed too closely, they risked scaring it away. Deer would startle and flee. Squirrels would race up nearby trees. Foxes and rabbits would disappear in the brush.

And people?

People would ask awkward questions or throw around accusations.

But if one followed at too big a distance?

They risked losing their prey, whether they were in Coille forest, or the metropolis that was Generasi.

Once the prey vanished from sight, unless the hunter could keep the scent, chances were slim they’d find it again.

In Theresa’s case, life enforcement and her blood magic bond with Brutus gave her senses she could have only dreamt about back when she was still hunting in the Coille.

Her nose caught scents like a hound’s.

Her eyes pierced the distance like the gaze of a hawk.

Her ears captured sound as readily as a bat’s.

And then there was Brutus beside her, with his heightened canine senses; his three noses could probably smell a single drop of blood from a mile off.

With every sense elevated, the huntress and hound could follow Maria from blocks away, hiding among the morning crowd while still keeping her scent.

Meanwhile, the old woman had no chance of catching sight of her pursuers.

Unless, of course, she was a member of the hidden church; Theresa had learned at the Battle of Uldar’s Rise just how capable their warriors and agents were.

‘Does she look familiar?’ the huntress wondered, continuing to stalk their prey through the streets. ‘Did I see her at Uldar’s Rise? Would I even recognise her? Everything was moving so fast and I was just focused on keeping everyone alive.’

The battle at Uldar’s Rise had been tougher than the Ravener-spawn attack at the Research Castle. While they were in the tunnels under the moors—she had uncovered the power sleeping in the Twinblade.

But, there’d been no big reveal at Uldar’s Rise, just the struggle against the church, fighting to stay alive. She clearly remembered the sting of arrows and blades across her body. The whoosh of air as Uldar’s statues struck at her, missing by finger-widths. Desperate prayers were screamed to Uldar as her swords cut his sinister followers down.

There’d been fervour in their eyes as priests revived the wounded.

Warriors she’d cut down and left for dead had sprang back up with renewed vigour as divine magic knitted their wounds, letting them throw themselves at her and her companions again and again. They’d been skilled—obviously trained over years—and were filled with divine strength from Uldar’s miracles.

There was also the sad fact that they had been her countryfolk.

Theresa Lu had learned to take life at an early age.

The first creatures to die at her hands were chickens she’d helped her parents kill for meals; she hadn’t shed any tears, though she’d felt for them. Even at her young age, she’d understood that they’d been raised for eggs and food…and she’d seen enough hens peck worms, bugs, or even the occasional mouse to death—to ever believe fowlstayed aliveand thrived on air and water alone.

She was drawn to hunting young pheasants in the outskirts of Coille forest, next. As a youngster, she could hardly believe it when her arrow found its mark, and she would always say a prayer of thanks to Uldar while harvesting the bird.

As she grew older, so had the size of the beasts she’d hunted. First, squirrels and rabbits, then full grown pheasants and quail. Then foxes, beavers and badgers. Eventually, she’d stalked deer, boar, and—very rarely—wolves through the Coille. She’d even learned to hunt bears over time.

Of course, there came the time when they were fleeing Thameland—and she’d taken down a Hive-queen, a monster, one she’d never seen or heard of before…and she’d liked it.

Coming to Generasi had given her new opportunities to hunt more monsters, killing them in the Barrens, in Thameland and wherever she found them. She’d fought and bested demons. She’d slain Ravener-spawn.

Eventually, she’d even raised her bow and Twinblade against other humans.

Ezaliel’s cultists were the first mortals she’d ever killed—though to her—it had only felt like she was killing more monsters. They were demon-worshippers and murderers, after all.

But something about killing the worshippers of Uldar—despite knowing what they’d done—had made something deep inside her recoil. They wore the symbol of the god she’d worshipped for more than eighteen years of her life, and that her family still worshipped.

So many of the priests she’d cut down looked like her teachers at the church school.

It unnerved her, but she hadn’t hesitated when she had to raise her blades against them when the time came.

Theresa and Brutus had followed Maria—by scent, and sometimes by sight—near to the district in Generasi where many of the churches and temples were located.

Was she going there to report to the priests of Uldar?

Theresa found her gloved hands drifting to her swords; her mind wondered how she could take this kill without others noticing. Should she strike first? Maybe she could climb on a rooftop, conceal herself behind a chimney, and shoot an arrow into the woman’s back.

No, there were too many sky-gondolas around.

The huntress’ thoughts increasingly turned to assassination.

A preemptive strike.

To protect her family.

Something caught her attention.

Maria turned from the road, stepping into a building.

Was this where she was meeting agent’s of the church? Theresa quickened her step, then paused, noting the type of building Maria had gone into: a public stable.

Minutes later—she emerged on the back of an older mare and rode to the nearest city gate.

Theresa picked her pace up. Moving faster. With purpose. Folk passing by took a look at the huntress’ stern expression—and the enormous cerberus beside her—and quickly got out of their way. A city gate loomed ahead, Maria passed through it, kicking her heels against her horse’s sides, cantering down the road.

Cursing quietly, Theresa took off, racing through the crowd.

Brutus bounded beside her.

The huntress weaved through clots of people, leaping over a wagon that barred her way, sprinting to the gate. Her cerberus followed behind his master’s heels until they left the city.

She paused again.

The cover from Generasi’s thick morning crowds was now gone; fewer travellers littered the road, making it easier to spot a lone woman and a three-headed cerberus.

She slowed, giving Maria time to increase the distance between them until she could barely see the horse.

Then, Theresa broke into a run.

Brutus bounded beside her, silent though excited, all three tongues hanging out.

Maria was far enough now that Theresa, and even the massive cerberus would only look like two indistinct shapes in the distance. Still, they left the road, using the cover of trees dotting fields beside the road.

They moved from copse to copse, keeping a good distance from their quarry.

‘Soon,’ Theresa thought, drawing her blades. She was now convinced that this woman was an agent of the church; and when she met her contacts, Theresa and Brutus would be ready.

Their quarry began to slow.

Her horse dropped to a trot, then a walk, when they reached a tiny hamlet at the base of a hill by the river. Before it lay a crossroads—one that Theresa, Alex, Claygon and Brutus had taken when they’d gone to the countryside to hunt the vespara—and behind it was a small forest.

It was to this forest that Theresa headed, using the surrounding hills as cover, until she and Brutus melted into the trees. Moving to the edge of the woods, she watched Maria stop at a small stone cottage. Outside the building, a fenced-in yard contained a vegetable garden, a chicken coop, and a few fruit trees.

“There you are,” Theresa snarled. “Now, let’s see who you’re meeting.”

And the huntress waited.

She waited as Maria tied her horse in a small stable, opened the cottage door, and went inside.

She waited as smoke began drifting from the chimney.

She waited as the scent of stew reached her on the wind.

Maria finally came outside.

Theresa tensed, crouching low.

The old woman carried a crossbow and some bolts. She headed in the direction of a wooden target set up beside the edge of the fence.

“Is she one of their informants?” she whispered.

She paused.

Someone was leaving another cottage and coming toward Maria’s home, a pair of fish in hand. They looked cleaned and freshly caught. Was this all a front? And who was this bringing…

…wait.

That man looked familiar.

He was a mercenary who’d fought beside her at Uldar’s Rise. The dour looking man even bore a long, angry, red scar running down his cheek; Theresa remembered a flange from a priest’s mace catching him there, and a blood mage saving his cheek and pretty much half his face.

He’d taken the blow saving one of the Watchers.

A chill came over her, deepening as the man rounded Maria’s cottage and let himself into the yard.

“Mum, I brought you some fish!” he called.

“Oh, Gio!” she startled, nearly dropping her crossbow. “You shouldn’t scare an old woman like that! Ah, those fish look beautiful, so I forgive you. You cleaned them well.”

“You have enough work to do, why would I give you fish you need to clean and cut up?” he said. “You want me to put them in the larder?”

“Oh, Gio, just put them in the kitchen. We’ll have them for lunch. Oh! You’re wearing that symbol around your neck.”

Theresa’s stomach churned when she saw what was dangling from Maria’s son’s neck.

Not the white hand of Uldar, which would have revealed him as an agent of the church.

Instead, he wore the holy lantern of the Traveller.

“You’ll never guess who I met today!” Maria said. “Believe it or not, it was that young woman you talked about, the one with those fancy swords, you know the one I mean. She and her team won the Grand Melee this year. Theresa Lu’s her name.”

“Mother, don’t tell me you bothered her,” Giovannai groaned.

“I did not, but let me tell you I—” Maria began gossipping, just as she had earlier.

Theresa’s hand flew to her mouth, barely keeping herself from being sick.

“What am I doing?” she whispered. “I followed a stranger home, intending to kill her.”

She’d let paranoia and fear of the church get to her. Was she out of her mind? What would have happened if she had taken the ‘first strike’ like she’d wanted to? She imagined Maria—an innocent woman—lying limp in some alleyway.

Eyes glassy and staring.

Blood coating Twinblade Lu’s weapon.

The huntress gagged, dry heaving.

She’d almost done something so terrible, so monstrous, she could never have forgiven herself.

“I was acting like one of those fanatics who work for that damn First Apostle,” she whispered, moving deeper into the trees. Whimpering quietly while licking her gloved hand, Brutus moved to deeper coverwith her.

When they were further in the treeline, well out of earshot of mother and son, she hugged Brutus like her life depended on it. “I nearly became another monster. Thank the Traveller. Thank the Traveller I didn’t.”

She could never let herself do this again.

Family was one thing, but if she started killing innocent people just out of fear?

She shuddered.

“Can’t let this happen again,” she whispered. “Traveller, please help me. Guide me. Make sure that my blades and arrows only strike the enemies of our family, just as Carey struck them down.”

She felt a spark of warmth grow in her chest as she said those words.

The wind suddenly shifted.

The odour of beast-goblins hit her.

Lots of beast-goblins.

Theresa let go of Brutus, clenching her teeth.

His heads turned toward the scent, letting out a deep growl.

“That’s a lot of monsters,” she whispered, raising her swords. “Maria said she was killing stragglers…but there’s more around here than just a few stragglers. If they ever come around in force, one crossbow’s not going to cut it.”

She knew what she had to do and gave Brutus a grim smile.

“Come on, let’s go kill some actual monsters and keep her safe.” The huntress whispered.

With that, she and her blood-familiar moved away from the hamlet. She would tell Alex what had happened.Word was spreading, and with that would come new challenges.

When that happened, she would face those challenges at his side.

She’d nearly become a lethal weapon just now for his sake.

With her great grandfather’s weapons joined with her, she would protect him, Selina, Brutus, and Claygon.

So focused was she on protecting her family, that she failed to notice the Twinblade shudder in her grip ever so slightly when she had that thought.