The Power of Ten, Book Three : The Human Race

The Human Race Ch. 2-59 – We Are Coming...



“Humanity no longer has the limits on it that it did. The blinders are off, the foe is right before it. They may not know exactly how to fight this fight... but once they do, they will fight!”

Her laugh unnerved even the stolid werewolf. He stared at her, marking the double canines of her teeth, and wondered what it portended.

“We have seen the weakness of humanity, time and time again giving in to the manipulations of the Worm, the Spider...”

“And the Fangs. Don’t think that we don’t know you have been manipulating us, just like those forces have.” Her words had hidden teeth to them. “And don’t try to justify yourselves. You have killed people for your purposes, many of them totally innocent of any wrongdoing save for going against your will. Your people’s hands are stained red with the blood of mine, slaughtering as readily as Worm or Spider.

“I just killed eleven of your kind that proved weak. You are just as susceptible as humans are to being corrupted, although I’m sure that you decry that it will ever happen to you. I’m also fairly sure that it’s fallout from many of your own actions that drove humans to be corrupted in the first place.

“But, whatever.” She waved her hand away. “I doubt you are capable of doing so easily, probably because of your lifespans, but humans are capable of letting go of the old and embracing the new far more readily than you are, being what you are. I can afford to be magnanimous and not hold your people’s crimes against you.”

He bridled despite himself. “You are born of the Wormbringers, and you dare say such things to me?” he growled dangerously.

“Oh, so now you’re a racist, too! Like I said, you can’t let grudges go.” Her eyes danced at him with a dangerously calm light, like the sparkle of blades being drawn. “We can start any time you care to, Strikes At Shadows. Since you are holding me responsible for things I didn’t do, I will return the favor!”

Danger. It hummed in the air, the tang of blood yet to be shed, the thrum of hearts about to beat their last.

It was not her blood he smelled, or her heart that he heard. Her heart was beating as slowly and casually as if she were sleeping... while his own was spiking and threatening to ignite the rage of the wolf inside him.

She was simply not afraid of him, despite being so small and young.

“Are you one of the human Mages?” he asked directly.

She gave him a look reserved for idiots. “I have no magic, and you are asking me that? Did you get your brains from a mudpit?”

Her words weren’t any kinder for the lapse. “You are too wise and confident for your years.”

“That is totally true,” she agreed without blinking an eye. “I was wondering if you noticed.”

This was infuriating. She was not giving him even the basic respect he was used to as a werewolf, especially from humans. It was truly bizarre. Her cutting wisdom was like talking to an old grandmother...

“This... creation of yours... seems to be doing what you spoke of?” He shifted topics like a changing wind.

“If you mean destroying vile, Tainted stuff and turning it into nice usable mana, it’s definitely doing that. It was kind of made to do so.”

The spirit inhabiting the Spinechain was clearly burning away, dying, and the power being drawn away, swirling into the strange crossbow at the center of the tool. It was a strange Weapon for a human to be using in this day and age...

“Will it work on other Tainted things?” Strikes At Shadows asked directly.

“Yes, but not for you.” She was quite unmoved by the flicker in his eyes at her words. “And you wouldn’t live to take it, so really, don’t even try.”

“Because I am too magical,” he repeated drily.

“You were listening! I was wondering there...”

“Could we... borrow the use of it?” he growled thoughtfully.

“Borrow it? It won’t work for you, and I’m not going to loan it out. It took me too damn long to make it in the first place.”

“We would destroy Tainted things that we have had to hide away. Such things could be found again, or the spirits merely be unbound if they were broken. If they were burned away with this...”

She tilted her head at him. “It won’t work on anything really powerful, such as something made by an Avatar or Primal Spirit or something. But if it’s just made from unclean magic... sure, bring it to me and I’ll burn it away.”

“You do not even bargain?” He was suspicious.

“I get the pure mana out of it; I’m more than happy to do so,” she answered easily.

“This mana must be quite valuable if you are willing to risk the wrath of those who would want to recover such items.”

My, wasn’t that astute of him, she mused. “So, you’re saying I should be charging a big hefty fee for disposing of a polluted magical item, instead of treating it like toxic waste and finding some way to get rid of it.” His eyes widened slightly. “Oh, right, it costs time and money to get rid of toxic waste.” She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “And, right, if you’re not careful bringing it to me, I could get some nasty entertainment called down on my head. Huh. So, how much should I be charging you to permanently remove a headache from you?”

Sama let that hang in the air, and he finally spoke somewhat reluctantly. “We would owe you a favor.”

“A favor. For every item. And if it actually attracts trouble to me, a BIG Favor,” she corrected mildly.

He looked at the burning Spinechain again, and nodded slowly.

“Cool. Here’s my email contact. Let me know at least a day in advance, I’ll get back to you with a place to meet. Destroying one of these Damn Things takes a full eight hours. It doesn’t have to be all at once, but it can’t be shortened.” A business card flew out across the Forge, and the werewolf caught it deftly between two fingers.

“Email?” he asked softly.

“Not into tech? Me either. Notice, no phone. But it’s the best way to contact me otherwise.” She sniffed. “And if you drag trouble to me and don’t warn me, I’m going to be wroth.”

He grunted and put the card away in one of the leather pouches about his hips. “I will speak to my Pack about this matter.”

She waved it away. “No worries. If you don’t send any of that filth to me, I won’t mind at all.” He grunted again.

“So, tell me about some Creation myths or heroic tales or something that isn’t secret. Never hurts to spread your point of view, and like I said, I try not to judge intelligent people on what their parents did. If you want me to come around to the grudge-holding, chop-the-kids-of-the-guilty-party-with-them frame of mind, hey, I’m not hard to convince of returning asshattery with asshattery.”

He hummed deep in his throat, regarding me uncertainly. “Tales that are not secrets of my Pack, or of The People...”

Ah, yes, another divisive term. They were The People, and everyone else was less than them. She shook her head to herself derisively, allowing them to hold onto their delusions with everyone else, tilted her head, and listened to some of the tales of the personal mythology of these deluded werewolves that began to fall from his lips.

Learning how they thought would be a thing. She could give them the luxury of their delusions if they were going to be giving her goldweight in things to destroy, and paying her for the privilege in favors...

--------

“Samantha,” her father greeted her, waiting for her at the back of the property after she sent Chomps ahead to let them know she was on her way back. Lots of happy barking was a good way to indicate that she was just fine. “How did everything go?”

“I don’t think we need to move quite yet, but it’s a good idea to get everything in order for when you have to. It’s pretty much a given now.”

“Something’s happened?” Darren asked quietly.

“That Hexar plant cooking off? I did that.” Darren blinked in disbelief at the statement. His middle daughter had-? “There was a member of the Great Packs watching, and saw me ace the six Mazed Werewolves and Scurved there. We got to talking, and he agreed to take credit for the kills of the werewolves, since it gave them leads to a couple packs that have been working with the Worm, some Demonic entity they’ve been fighting for some time.

“Since they’re taking credit for the deaths, we should be in the clear, for now. However, it means there’s an actual supernatural presence in the area. Hexar wouldn’t have moved in without something granting them permission... and those free werewolves were not the same thing as the mutated ones I killed in the compound.” She glanced up at him. “The werewolf didn’t say it, but he intimated they were sworn to other powers, and that probably means a Hag. The ones sworn to Vampires tend to be more urban.”

Darren took a deep breath at the news, wondering what to do about all this. It was far beyond anything he’d ever really had to face.

And his daughter was every bit as dangerous as she said she was...

“It turns I also have a valuable service to offer the werewolves in the form of destroying Cursed and Tainted items. I get to keep the purified mana from when those items are destroyed. I don’t think I have to tell you what being capable of earning four and more goldweight in eight hours is worth long term.”

“A goldweight?...” her father’s voice trailed off, eyes widening. “That is a lot of money!”

“Yes. I won’t do it around here, but if they only bring half a dozen items to me... that is a lot of money and time saved, Papa.”

He had to nod despite himself. “Why are we on a time limit?” he asked softly.

“Because someone is going to sense the destruction of those items, and start sniffing around. On top of that, my Hag Curse is going to mature, and if there’s a Hag in this area, she’s going to sense it. I either have to leave before it begins, or if she comes around, I’m probably going to have to kill her, and that might set the process off. In either case, being my family is going to make you a target.”

Darren looked up at the sky and cursed for a breath or two. “Having a daughter who is a trouble magnet for magical shit is really inconvenient, Samantha.”

“I know, and I am sorry. If you want me to, I’ll wrap things up and leave, so as not to endanger the family, Papa.”

“Do you have some place to go?” her father asked, stunned at those words.

“I’ve got enough cash that I can survive without a problem, and I’ve enough skill to get a job somewhere easily, too.” The werewolves would fall over themselves to hire her, if nothing else.

He sighed, and then nodded. “I’ll leave it to your judgement for when it’s best to go. Your mother and I will set up things so that if we have to leave quick, we can do so.”

“Thank you, Papa.”


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