Demon-Killing Sword

6.2 Smugglers

By the time the others woke, the sun had finished its ascent over the horizon. The pink and purple waves of dawn had long since scurried out of sight, bleached away until they resolved to cerulean. Kjell was babbling to Gunnel, who was either tolerating him or napping. Huginn sat slightly apart, hands deep in his bag and a pinched expression on his face. Niina emerged from the woods with a rabbit, which she handed to Vivi. Vivi, in turn, began to break the rabbit down into its component parts. Muninn watched, morbidly curious.

"Never seen someone skin a rabbit before?" Vivi asked conversationally, glancing up. Glossy black hair slid back from her face as if her skin had no traction at all.

Muninn nodded. She crouched beside Vivi. "We always bought meat," she confessed. The demoness was the first time she'd seen anyone skin anything, and that was at a hundred feet.

"City girl?" Vivi teased good-naturedly. From behind her, Niina let out a derisive snort. Vivi leaned in and raised a hand to her mouth. "Niina didn't know before I met her, either."

Muninn gave a snort of her own. Niina narrowed her eyes. "Vivi, what are you telling her?"

"Only the truth, swear on my heart," Vivi responded. She winked at Muninn as she slit the rabbit around the paws.

Niina huffed and stalked away. Muninn waited until she couldn't hear her footsteps anymore, then shuffled closer. "I don't think she likes me," she whispered.

Vivi let out a heavy sigh. With a practiced yank, the skin came free of the rabbit, and, businesslike, she chopped off the thing's head with the next stroke. Her eyes darted to Niina, then to Kjell, who was still prattling away. "Well. She did almost get killed because of Kjell's little... tendencies. Kjell, you see, his brother—"

"Telling secrets isn't nice!" Huginn shouted.

Muninn snapped to face him. How'd he hear us? He was across camp. Vivi was whispering. Niina was much closer, and she hadn't seemed to notice.

She was looking at them now, though. Niina tipped her head to the side with an exhausted expression. "Vivi," she sighed.

Vivi waved her hand. "Well. It's neither here nor there, really."

No, I want to know! It wasn't fair to tell the story halfway and stop like that. "Is that... does it have to do with whatever happened with Victor?" she asked.

Taken aback, Vivi furrowed her brow at Muninn. "How do you know about Victor?"

Muninn's eyes got wide. She glanced to the side. Whoops. She wasn't supposed to know about Victor. If it hadn't been for the memory, she'd have no idea who he was. "I uh, I must have heard it from... someone," she muttered.

Vivi's brows furrowed deeper, but then she shrugged. "That Kjell," she said. "He'll talk your ear off if you let him, huh?"

Muninn nodded, glad to be let off the hook.

It wasn't good to tell people about her magic.

Don't tell anyone. No matter what you see, don't ever tell a soul.

Her mother's eyes had been so clear back then, so earnest. She remembered shivering from fear, shivering so much she couldn't stop. Her wrists had still burned from the rope. The dirt still clumped in her hair. Behind her, frightening thumps and cracks rang out. She wanted to turn, but her mother wouldn't let her. Whatever the slum-men were doing to that man, she wasn't allowed to see.

It had been so small, the hole. Deep and small, the size of her tiny body. No one would have noticed it. Not until it was far too late. And the guards hadn't cared about her accusation, anyways. What was a mixed-blood like her against a pure-blooded human? What were the lives of all those mixed-blood girls, against the life of one human man?

There is no such thing as good. Not in this world.

Her eyes turned to the miasma on the horizon. But there is evil.

"Anyways, as I was saying," Vivi continued. Muninn blinked at the woman in time to watch the rabbit meat vanish into the pot. The distinct impression that she'd missed some vital part of the process struck her, but it was too late now to ask. "You should really ask Kjell about it. Huginn is right, it's not nice to tell secrets."

Muninn rocked onto her toes. "Where's he from?" she asked, nodding toward the boy. All the alchemists she'd ever seen or heard of were hoary old men, with skin like parchment and hair like raw cotton. While his hair did fit the description, he wasn't half as old as the other alchemists.

"You should ask him," Vivi suggested, giving her a little nudge.

"He doesn't like me, either," Muninn complained.

"Well! Then I think you should make some friends." Vivi stood. She reached to pat Muninn's head, but Muninn saw it coming and dove out of the way. A soft, plump hand landed on her shoulder instead. "Breakfast will be ready in a moment."

Muninn nodded. From behind the pot, she watched Huginn. As she watched, he pulled a bomb from the bag and carefully checked it over. When he came to the fuse, his permanent scowl deepened. It was short and frayed, and barely stuck out of the explosive capsule. He rummaged in the bag again and drew out a length of cloth. A knife appeared from somewhere up his long sleeves, and he sliced a portion of the cloth.

He stared to tie the new fuse onto the old one, but the old one was too short. His lips pressed together in frustration. Huginn leaned closer and tried again.

Muninn stood and walked over to him. "I can help," she offered.

Huginn jumped. The bomb tumbled to the floor, porcelain shell clattering as it rolled. "Don't— startle me!" he said. "This stuff is explosive!"

She knelt and picked up the bomb. It was surprisingly heavy, for something that fit in the palm of her hand. "Give it here," she said, holding out her hand for the new fuse.

"You aren't an alchemist! What do you know?" he snapped.

Muninn sighed. She plucked the fuse from his hand and sat on the floor. Rather than try to tie the whole, wider fabric of the fuse to the smaller one, she split the fabric in two, first on the bomb, then on the fuse. The thinner strands could move more nimbly than the thicker fabric had. It only took a moment to tie the two knots.

She was unable to mask her smug grin as she handed it back to Huginn. "All fixed."

Huginn looked at it, then pouted. "It'll burn differently now that it's thinner," he complained.

"It would burn differently anyways, with a knot!" Kjell pointed out, bounding over. "You should thank her, Hugh."

"Don't call me that," Huginn muttered. He shot Muninn a glance and half-opened his mouth. Muninn smiled expectantly.

He shut his mouth and spun away. "Whatever."

A sigh was Kjell's only commentary. "Let's grab breakfast move on," he said. "Sun's up, and time's a wastin'."