The moment Drake stepped out of the front doors of his manor, his foot came down on wood, not grass. As a wave of nausea overwhelmed him, he stumbled forward and barely kept his feet. He felt like he’d just stumbled off a merry-go-round while it was still spinning.
He now stood in the back of an open wooden wagon sitting in the middle of open plains. Anna hopped off the front of the wagon as Drake struggled for focus, then scampered through a line of dudes in red leather armor who were all pointing crossbows at him.
“I brought him!” Anna shouted. “I’m back!”
Drake was not in his manor any longer. He wasn’t even in the garden outside. He was standing in the back of an open wooden wagon, in the middle of a sweeping stretch of plains, with a small army of red-armored men pointing crossbows at him from all directions.
Anna had teleported him the moment he walked through the door of his manor.
“Fucking rarities,” he whispered. “Fucking bullshit superpowers.”
Drake raised his hands. The wagon on which he stood looked to be a simple wooden wagon, and there was a disturbing amount of dried blood directly below his feet. It looked like it had been spread like a crop circle. No time to think about that. He focused on the threat.
There must be at least twenty soldiers surrounding him, all men wearing the same red light armor. Those that didn’t have crossbows pointed at him wielded heavy clubs. He was absolutely going to die now... unless...
He lied his fucking ass off.
“I’ll give you one warning,” Drake shouted as menacingly as he could. “If any of you fires so much as a bolt in my direction, I will end every last one of your pitiful little lives. You can’t kill me with those weapons. My rarity is far more powerful than your puny crossbow bolts, so if any of you shoot me, you are all going to die.”
Several red-armored soldiers visibly winced at his words. Others nervously glanced at each other. As Drake took in the visceral reaction his ridiculous bluff had raised in twenty armed soldiers, he felt the strangest, maddest grin. They’d believed every word he said.
It was still frustrating that he had been teleported here by bullshit superpowers, but because he was the only person in this world who could lie, he literally had bullshit superpowers. These men would believe anything he told them, even that he was invincible.
And there was something else. Something odd. He wasn’t even all that annoyed he’d been teleported, because now that he’d intimidated them... he smelled their fear, and he felt as excited as a kid staring at a pile of unopened presents on Christmas morning.
The fuck was that about?
“So when someone gets a rarity, how do they know? Like, how do they activate it for the first time?”
“Accounts vary, lord, but rarities tend to manifest between four and eight years of age. As to how... most report simply that something feels ‘right’.”
“Right?”
“In the situation where they can create light, they encounter a situation where they need light. They feel as if they can create it. Then, their rarity for creating light manifests.”
Drake remembered his conversation with Zuri about how people discovered their rarities. They simply encountered a situation where using the rarity felt “right”. Was this that situation for him? Having twenty armed soldiers threaten him with death?
It was possible that, in the past three days, he had turned from a reasonable person into an adrenaline junkie eager to punch the shit out of armed soldiers. Yet it was also possible all his tests to find his rarity had failed because he was never in any danger.
Back in his manor, he’d always felt safe, because he knew his people were loyal to him. Yet now, in a situation where any of these men could shoot him, this strange new hunger inside him was begging to be let out. So did his rarity respond to being threatened?
He wasn’t remotely sure how to feel about that.
Before he could decide what to do next, a brown-skinned man with a puffy mustache stepped from the line of soldiers. He had a jaunty red hat and wore dark crimson armor that looked similar to feathersteel, but might be something new.
“Lord Gloomwood, please! There’s no need for violence, and I would beg you listen before you bring us to blows. I’m simply here to present an invitation.”
An invitation? To what? Still, the mustached man’s greeting felt appropriate for a fucking manor lord, and Drake was relieved to learn these men were somewhat reasonable. His unknown rarity obviously responded to threats, but he didn’t know how it worked yet.
He’d like some time to figure out how his rarity worked before the fighting started.
“I’m so sorry!” Anna called plaintively from behind two menacing red shoulders. “I couldn’t let them hurt Daddy!”
Jaunty-hat glanced at her and tsked. “Run along now, little mouse. Your daddy’s still got all his pieces, but your lunch is getting cold. You know where your cage is.”
Anna scampered out of sight without another word. As she vanished, Drake found he couldn’t hate Anna, nor would it do him any good to hate a starving child. She’d obviously been forced into this, and she had literally told him she would betray him.
Also, so far, his bluff seemed to be working. None of these soldiers had shot him, even though killing him would let them seize Gloomwood Manor’s blood pact. Or could they?
Every soldier around his wagon was a man. The fact that they held crossbows suggested they didn’t have rarities useful in combat... or divine blood. That meant that even if they killed him, they couldn’t inherit his blood pact. So they had no reason to act rashly.
Either way, he better keep up his unstoppable manor lord act before any of them got up the courage to shoot him anyway. He couldn’t let them have too much time to think. “I’m afraid you’ve got me at a disadvantage,” Drake said. “To whom am I speaking?”
Jaunty-hat inclined his head. “I’d prefer not to give my real name, lord, if it’s all the same to you. But if you’d like, you can call me the captain.”
“How about I call you Captain Crunch? That work?”
The man offered a genuine belly laugh. “That’d be fine, lord. Whatever you prefer.”
His captor seemed both amiable and polite. Being nice felt wrong in every possible way, especially with the almost ravenous hunger inside him salivating at the thought of murdering twenty soldiers in cold blood. Drake didn’t fully trust this new eagerness inside him—the eagerness to kill—so until these men forced his hand, he’d look for a peaceful solution.
“You said you had an invitation for me?”
“Aye, lord. The person who hired us to bring you here ordered us not to kill you. They simply want to make you an offer in private, and perhaps you’ll even make a new friend. So if you’ll promise not to kill us or cause trouble, I’ll promise not to harm you.”
People here couldn’t lie, so Captain Crunch’s statement was a genuine offer. Moreover, if whoever had hired these men to abduct him was wealthy enough to do so, they could be powerful indeed. This meant even if these mercenaries weren’t already terrified of Drake, they were probably terrified of defying the orders of their current employer.
Despite how easily he’d bluffed these men regarding his rarity, Drake knew simply running off would likely get him shot. He had no idea how to get back to his manor. So for now, it seemed like the best thing might be to honor his deal with Captain Crunch.
And since Drake could lie, he could not honor that deal whenever he wished.
“Very well, captain. Promise not to harm me in any way, and I will stay in your camp until your employer arrives.” That would be truth or a lie depending on how he felt later, but Crunch couldn’t know that. “Are you willing to make that deal?”
“Gladly, lord.” Crunch nodded. “If you’ll agree to be our guest until my employer arrives, we will not harm you and will make you comfortable here. We can even offer you dinner.”
“Agreed,” Drake said.
Crunch gave a small wave to his men. “Agreed.”
The men surrounding him all lowered their crossbows at once, several offering audible sighs. More than one of them even smiled nervously at the others, seemingly relieved that they hadn’t been ordered to fire. Drake could barely believe how gullible everyone in this world was.
And just how huge an advantage his ability to lie gave him in any negotiation.
Odder yet, as the threat to his life disappeared, so did his hunger. His desire to kill went from a five-alarm fire to a faint simmer, so there was no doubt about it. Being threatened had triggered his rarity. So could he reflect crossbow bolts? Nuke people with his mind?
He’d have time to consider the morality of possibly slaughtering these soldiers later. For now, Drake took another look at the surroundings. The grassy, open fields looked to slope down in most every direction, suggesting the mercenaries had chosen the high ground. It looked to be just past noon here, about the same time it had been at his manor.
Could his battle maids track him here? Probably not. This time, he’d been teleported. Not walked, not dragged, not carted. Even Sachi couldn’t track a trail that didn’t exist, and she was still out looking for Valentia.
Captain Crunch beckoned. “If you’ll come with me, lord, I’ll show you to our guest tent. I’m afraid we don’t have a feast fit for a manor lord here, but we have refreshments prepared and some fresh fruit if you’d like. We also have a selection of books.”
This was absolutely the most polite abduction in which Drake had ever participated. He hopped off the wagon and, with a cursory glance around at the soldiers watching him with nervous eyes, walked over to join Captain Crunch as the man led him into a camp.
Small tents were set out on the relatively even grass in what looked like a fairly logical pattern, and from the number, it looked like each man carried his own tent. A larger tent sat in the center of the camp, along with another wagon. Except this wagon was different.
It was metal, not wood, and it had visible metal bars all around. It was like a lion cage from an old movie—metal floor, metal bars, metal roof—and as they approached, Drake realized it didn’t contain lions at all. Instead... a skinny blond-haired child watched from inside.
Drake glanced at Captain Crunch. “You keep Anna in a cage?”
Crunch nodded. “It’s for her protection, lord. You’ve seen what she can do and can understand why someone might wish to abduct her, but she’s not old enough to take a blood pact. So, in exchange for the protection I offer, she does odd jobs for me.”
“Like abducting people from their own manors.”
Crunch smiled sideways at Drake. “It’s not so different from your blood pact, lord. Anna serves me, and in exchange, I feed her and protect her. Also, while she’s but ten years of age, I do plan to sell her the moment she turns sixteen. If you find her rarity intriguing, I’d be thrilled to see you at the auction once she’s ready to join a manor.”
So Crunch was a slave trader as well. Of children. Drake was absolutely going to free Anna as soon as he could, but not before he beat the shit out of Captain Crunch.
“And her father? You protect him too?”
“I don’t have a blood pact, lord, so I must motivate my thralls in other ways. Are you uncomfortable with how I ensure Anna’s loyalty? Given the reputation of the lord of Gloomwood Manor, I find that surprising.”
Drake offered a casual nod. “I’m simply curious about your operation,” he lied smoothly. “How you keep your thralls in line is no business of mine.”
Crunch relaxed. “I appreciate that, lord. Now, let me show you where you’ll be staying.”
As Crunch led him into the big tent, Drake was keenly aware of Anna staring at him forlornly from inside her lion cage. She was just a child. A child constantly in fear her father would be fed to dogs. He held no animosity toward her.
He really was going to free both her and her father, just as she’d asked.
Inside the tent, Crunch had prepared a soft-looking divan with a fine wooden table and a goblet of what looked like mead. Gleaming purple grapes waited as well, and given these men looked to be on the road a lot, they had likely put out the best spread they could. Crunch hadn’t been lying about treating him like a manor lord.
“Would you like an attendant, lord?” Crunch asked. “I can spare a man.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Drake said. Were they really going to leave him in this fine tent all alone simply because he’d given his word he’d stay? He couldn’t believe his luck.
“Then I’ll leave a man outside to ensure you aren’t disturbed,” Crunch said. “Also, lord, should you ever need my services, I’d be happy to work for you as well.”
Drake eyed the man. “You abducted me, and now you want to work for me?”
“The abduction was just business, lord, and I assure you, I can be as useful to you as I am to the other manor lords. I should think my success today proves that.”
Drake had to respect the man’s hustle. Crunch had abducted a manor lord and was now trying to sell that same manor lord his services. If he wasn’t a slave trader who kept a little girl in a cage while threatening her father, he’d even have considered it.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Drake lied.
“Please do. If you need anything while we wait for my employer, simply let that man outside know and he’ll inform me. My employer should arrive by tomorrow morning.”
“Then I’ll let you get back to your people.”
“Thank you, lord.” He turned and left the tent.
Drake looked around the tent. They hadn’t even tied him up. Escaping would be easy, though he’d likely want to wait for nightfall before he snuck out. While it was tempting to see who had put this all in motion, he was more and more certain waiting was the wrong move.
Captain Crunch and his men had no rarities to speak of. They were visibly deferential to him after his bullshit threat earlier, but whoever had hired them—especially if they were another manor lord—could be on a whole different level. They wouldn’t be so easy to fool.
Once again he pondered the strange, heady, terrifying feeling he’d experienced as those men pointed their weapons at him. He felt ever more certain now that if it came to a fight, these mercenaries would regret attacking him instead of the other way around. Yet as annoyed as he was by this abduction, the idea of murdering a camp full of people did not appeal.
So he’d simply slip away and free Anna and her father on his way out.
The moment Drake stepped out of the front doors of his manor, his foot came down on wood, not grass. As a wave of nausea overwhelmed him, he stumbled forward and barely kept his feet. He felt like he’d just stumbled off a merry-go-round while it was still spinning.
He now stood in the back of an open wooden wagon sitting in the middle of open plains. Anna hopped off the front of the wagon as Drake struggled for focus, then scampered through a line of dudes in red leather armor who were all pointing crossbows at him.
“I brought him!” Anna shouted. “I’m back!”
Drake was not in his manor any longer. He wasn’t even in the garden outside. He was standing in the back of an open wooden wagon, in the middle of a sweeping stretch of plains, with a small army of red-armored men pointing crossbows at him from all directions.
Anna had teleported him the moment he walked through the door of his manor.
“Fucking rarities,” he whispered. “Fucking bullshit superpowers.”
Drake raised his hands. The wagon on which he stood looked to be a simple wooden wagon, and there was a disturbing amount of dried blood directly below his feet. It looked like it had been spread like a crop circle. No time to think about that. He focused on the threat.
There must be at least twenty soldiers surrounding him, all men wearing the same red light armor. Those that didn’t have crossbows pointed at him wielded heavy clubs. He was absolutely going to die now... unless...
He lied his fucking ass off.
“I’ll give you one warning,” Drake shouted as menacingly as he could. “If any of you fires so much as a bolt in my direction, I will end every last one of your pitiful little lives. You can’t kill me with those weapons. My rarity is far more powerful than your puny crossbow bolts, so if any of you shoot me, you are all going to die.”
Several red-armored soldiers visibly winced at his words. Others nervously glanced at each other. As Drake took in the visceral reaction his ridiculous bluff had raised in twenty armed soldiers, he felt the strangest, maddest grin. They’d believed every word he said.
It was still frustrating that he had been teleported here by bullshit superpowers, but because he was the only person in this world who could lie, he literally had bullshit superpowers. These men would believe anything he told them, even that he was invincible.
And there was something else. Something odd. He wasn’t even all that annoyed he’d been teleported, because now that he’d intimidated them... he smelled their fear, and he felt as excited as a kid staring at a pile of unopened presents on Christmas morning.
The fuck was that about?
“So when someone gets a rarity, how do they know? Like, how do they activate it for the first time?”
“Accounts vary, lord, but rarities tend to manifest between four and eight years of age. As to how... most report simply that something feels ‘right’.”
“Right?”
“In the situation where they can create light, they encounter a situation where they need light. They feel as if they can create it. Then, their rarity for creating light manifests.”
Drake remembered his conversation with Zuri about how people discovered their rarities. They simply encountered a situation where using the rarity felt “right”. Was this that situation for him? Having twenty armed soldiers threaten him with death?
It was possible that, in the past three days, he had turned from a reasonable person into an adrenaline junkie eager to punch the shit out of armed soldiers. Yet it was also possible all his tests to find his rarity had failed because he was never in any danger.
Back in his manor, he’d always felt safe, because he knew his people were loyal to him. Yet now, in a situation where any of these men could shoot him, this strange new hunger inside him was begging to be let out. So did his rarity respond to being threatened?
He wasn’t remotely sure how to feel about that.
Before he could decide what to do next, a brown-skinned man with a puffy mustache stepped from the line of soldiers. He had a jaunty red hat and wore dark crimson armor that looked similar to feathersteel, but might be something new.
“Lord Gloomwood, please! There’s no need for violence, and I would beg you listen before you bring us to blows. I’m simply here to present an invitation.”
An invitation? To what? Still, the mustached man’s greeting felt appropriate for a fucking manor lord, and Drake was relieved to learn these men were somewhat reasonable. His unknown rarity obviously responded to threats, but he didn’t know how it worked yet.
He’d like some time to figure out how his rarity worked before the fighting started.
“I’m so sorry!” Anna called plaintively from behind two menacing red shoulders. “I couldn’t let them hurt Daddy!”
Jaunty-hat glanced at her and tsked. “Run along now, little mouse. Your daddy’s still got all his pieces, but your lunch is getting cold. You know where your cage is.”
Anna scampered out of sight without another word. As she vanished, Drake found he couldn’t hate Anna, nor would it do him any good to hate a starving child. She’d obviously been forced into this, and she had literally told him she would betray him.
Also, so far, his bluff seemed to be working. None of these soldiers had shot him, even though killing him would let them seize Gloomwood Manor’s blood pact. Or could they?
Every soldier around his wagon was a man. The fact that they held crossbows suggested they didn’t have rarities useful in combat... or divine blood. That meant that even if they killed him, they couldn’t inherit his blood pact. So they had no reason to act rashly.
Either way, he better keep up his unstoppable manor lord act before any of them got up the courage to shoot him anyway. He couldn’t let them have too much time to think. “I’m afraid you’ve got me at a disadvantage,” Drake said. “To whom am I speaking?”
Jaunty-hat inclined his head. “I’d prefer not to give my real name, lord, if it’s all the same to you. But if you’d like, you can call me the captain.”
“How about I call you Captain Crunch? That work?”
The man offered a genuine belly laugh. “That’d be fine, lord. Whatever you prefer.”
His captor seemed both amiable and polite. Being nice felt wrong in every possible way, especially with the almost ravenous hunger inside him salivating at the thought of murdering twenty soldiers in cold blood. Drake didn’t fully trust this new eagerness inside him—the eagerness to kill—so until these men forced his hand, he’d look for a peaceful solution.
“You said you had an invitation for me?”
“Aye, lord. The person who hired us to bring you here ordered us not to kill you. They simply want to make you an offer in private, and perhaps you’ll even make a new friend. So if you’ll promise not to kill us or cause trouble, I’ll promise not to harm you.”
People here couldn’t lie, so Captain Crunch’s statement was a genuine offer. Moreover, if whoever had hired these men to abduct him was wealthy enough to do so, they could be powerful indeed. This meant even if these mercenaries weren’t already terrified of Drake, they were probably terrified of defying the orders of their current employer.
Despite how easily he’d bluffed these men regarding his rarity, Drake knew simply running off would likely get him shot. He had no idea how to get back to his manor. So for now, it seemed like the best thing might be to honor his deal with Captain Crunch.
And since Drake could lie, he could not honor that deal whenever he wished.
“Very well, captain. Promise not to harm me in any way, and I will stay in your camp until your employer arrives.” That would be truth or a lie depending on how he felt later, but Crunch couldn’t know that. “Are you willing to make that deal?”
“Gladly, lord.” Crunch nodded. “If you’ll agree to be our guest until my employer arrives, we will not harm you and will make you comfortable here. We can even offer you dinner.”
“Agreed,” Drake said.
Crunch gave a small wave to his men. “Agreed.”
The men surrounding him all lowered their crossbows at once, several offering audible sighs. More than one of them even smiled nervously at the others, seemingly relieved that they hadn’t been ordered to fire. Drake could barely believe how gullible everyone in this world was.
And just how huge an advantage his ability to lie gave him in any negotiation.
Odder yet, as the threat to his life disappeared, so did his hunger. His desire to kill went from a five-alarm fire to a faint simmer, so there was no doubt about it. Being threatened had triggered his rarity. So could he reflect crossbow bolts? Nuke people with his mind?
He’d have time to consider the morality of possibly slaughtering these soldiers later. For now, Drake took another look at the surroundings. The grassy, open fields looked to slope down in most every direction, suggesting the mercenaries had chosen the high ground. It looked to be just past noon here, about the same time it had been at his manor.
Could his battle maids track him here? Probably not. This time, he’d been teleported. Not walked, not dragged, not carted. Even Sachi couldn’t track a trail that didn’t exist, and she was still out looking for Valentia.
Captain Crunch beckoned. “If you’ll come with me, lord, I’ll show you to our guest tent. I’m afraid we don’t have a feast fit for a manor lord here, but we have refreshments prepared and some fresh fruit if you’d like. We also have a selection of books.”
This was absolutely the most polite abduction in which Drake had ever participated. He hopped off the wagon and, with a cursory glance around at the soldiers watching him with nervous eyes, walked over to join Captain Crunch as the man led him into a camp.
Small tents were set out on the relatively even grass in what looked like a fairly logical pattern, and from the number, it looked like each man carried his own tent. A larger tent sat in the center of the camp, along with another wagon. Except this wagon was different.
It was metal, not wood, and it had visible metal bars all around. It was like a lion cage from an old movie—metal floor, metal bars, metal roof—and as they approached, Drake realized it didn’t contain lions at all. Instead... a skinny blond-haired child watched from inside.
Drake glanced at Captain Crunch. “You keep Anna in a cage?”
Crunch nodded. “It’s for her protection, lord. You’ve seen what she can do and can understand why someone might wish to abduct her, but she’s not old enough to take a blood pact. So, in exchange for the protection I offer, she does odd jobs for me.”
“Like abducting people from their own manors.”
Crunch smiled sideways at Drake. “It’s not so different from your blood pact, lord. Anna serves me, and in exchange, I feed her and protect her. Also, while she’s but ten years of age, I do plan to sell her the moment she turns sixteen. If you find her rarity intriguing, I’d be thrilled to see you at the auction once she’s ready to join a manor.”
So Crunch was a slave trader as well. Of children. Drake was absolutely going to free Anna as soon as he could, but not before he beat the shit out of Captain Crunch.
“And her father? You protect him too?”
“I don’t have a blood pact, lord, so I must motivate my thralls in other ways. Are you uncomfortable with how I ensure Anna’s loyalty? Given the reputation of the lord of Gloomwood Manor, I find that surprising.”
Drake offered a casual nod. “I’m simply curious about your operation,” he lied smoothly. “How you keep your thralls in line is no business of mine.”
Crunch relaxed. “I appreciate that, lord. Now, let me show you where you’ll be staying.”
As Crunch led him into the big tent, Drake was keenly aware of Anna staring at him forlornly from inside her lion cage. She was just a child. A child constantly in fear her father would be fed to dogs. He held no animosity toward her.
He really was going to free both her and her father, just as she’d asked.
Inside the tent, Crunch had prepared a soft-looking divan with a fine wooden table and a goblet of what looked like mead. Gleaming purple grapes waited as well, and given these men looked to be on the road a lot, they had likely put out the best spread they could. Crunch hadn’t been lying about treating him like a manor lord.
“Would you like an attendant, lord?” Crunch asked. “I can spare a man.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Drake said. Were they really going to leave him in this fine tent all alone simply because he’d given his word he’d stay? He couldn’t believe his luck.
“Then I’ll leave a man outside to ensure you aren’t disturbed,” Crunch said. “Also, lord, should you ever need my services, I’d be happy to work for you as well.”
Drake eyed the man. “You abducted me, and now you want to work for me?”
“The abduction was just business, lord, and I assure you, I can be as useful to you as I am to the other manor lords. I should think my success today proves that.”
Drake had to respect the man’s hustle. Crunch had abducted a manor lord and was now trying to sell that same manor lord his services. If he wasn’t a slave trader who kept a little girl in a cage while threatening her father, he’d even have considered it.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Drake lied.
“Please do. If you need anything while we wait for my employer, simply let that man outside know and he’ll inform me. My employer should arrive by tomorrow morning.”
“Then I’ll let you get back to your people.”
“Thank you, lord.” He turned and left the tent.
Drake looked around the tent. They hadn’t even tied him up. Escaping would be easy, though he’d likely want to wait for nightfall before he snuck out. While it was tempting to see who had put this all in motion, he was more and more certain waiting was the wrong move.
Captain Crunch and his men had no rarities to speak of. They were visibly deferential to him after his bullshit threat earlier, but whoever had hired them—especially if they were another manor lord—could be on a whole different level. They wouldn’t be so easy to fool.
Once again he pondered the strange, heady, terrifying feeling he’d experienced as those men pointed their weapons at him. He felt ever more certain now that if it came to a fight, these mercenaries would regret attacking him instead of the other way around. Yet as annoyed as he was by this abduction, the idea of murdering a camp full of people did not appeal.
So he’d simply slip away and free Anna and her father on his way out.
