The Three Ouellets

[Ataraxis]

Lillian merely nodded her understanding, punctuating it with the silent unsheathing of two aesthetically opposite knives. These were different from the dirk she had thrown and subsequently recovered in her prior demonstration, to the bewildered eyes of the onlookers that had witnessed this blatant act of vandalism: rather than cut from cillu glass, their matte black and glossy white blades were forged from pure prevalida and their edges had been serrated to an almost wicked degree. Knowing these would be more fitting for the task at hand, she twirled them once by the hole in each tang and receded into the darkness of the alley, her pale silhouette swallowed whole as if by living shadows.

Vespasian could guess she had taken refuge behind either the piles of foul-smelling sundries that lined the brick passage or the galvanized dumpster that was overflowing with broken bottles, but the action seemed oddly redundant. He had already lost track of her, as if by magic; in fact, he no longer had any doubt that this stealth and her previous vanishing act were sorcerous in nature. Perhaps, he mused, his sister’s wounded ego could be soothed by the notion that the mousy librarian had only managed her deception with the assistance of greater powers. After careful consideration, however, he decided to keep that little tidbit of information to himself: there was no point in prematurely ending the rare sight of a humbled Ludivine, after all.

He himself decided to crouch behind a nearby stack of straw-bundled crates, likely discarded after being emptied of their lower-class ale imports. Then was the wait: for a minute that had felt like ten, there was nary a sound save for the shady bustle on the streets by the evening ragtag. It all came muffled to the ears of the two lying in wait, so focused they were on the chipped, whitewashed door that lead into the back alley.

There was a low thumping, clumsy, hurried. It grew into a series of muted thuds, until it became the clear thundering of boots against wailing floorboards. The door flung open in a storm of heaving breaths and heavy foot falls as a bulky dark elf with umber skin came tumbling out, lumbering feet bending the three-step stairway that brought him to the brick alley. Another tripped down the wooden flight, scrawny head flattening against the back of the bouncer before he righted himself, frightened eyes buzzing every which way as if the end of days had finally come. The larger of the two spied to the left, hoping to make a break for it into the public eye of the busy streets, but his hopes were shattered when Maelle waltzed into view, blocking his path to freedom. He turned heels at once and dashed for the right, hopping over gutted bags of trash in his escape, with the other bumbling in tow.

Ten steps into his mad dash, he saw a ghastly face spring from the darkness, cutting through him with its sharp-blue eyes so wide and eerie. Two blades rose threateningly, seemingly floating in midair before flashing as one was thrown. Chips of rock pelted his chest from beneath, and as he looked down, the elf saw a blade of white, burrowed halfway into the stone ground, still oscillating. Lillian readied herself deliberately for another throw, in case the warning had been insufficient, but the bouncer was no dolt. In a final act of desperation, he spun back, but rather than seeing Maelle spontaneously vanish, he saw her ranks joined by that deadly vixen with dead, jade eyes. “Vith,” he cursed between grit teeth.

His companion did not have the clarity of mind to see defeat as he had, however. Seeing that the knife-thrower was nothing more than a child, he bolted in her direction, hoping to knock her out before she could take aim. Instead, he felt his throat ram against something that reminded him of a steel bar; his feet left the ground to fly, but the rest of his body came slamming down with unforgiving violence. Vespasian stood casually beside the gangly elf, right arm outstretched and as straight as a clothesline.

“Hm,” Vespasian began with a corner smile.“You walked right into that one.”