Chương 56: Navigate And Be Careful

I had been crouching long enough for a grass stem to work its way inside my collar. Every few steps it scraped beneath my jaw. I resisted pulling it out because something was moving beyond the rise, and Petra already made enough noise behind me without my contributing. Hooves struck the road. I lowered myself onto one knee and waited. Farther away, a goblin shrieked. Another answered with a noise I remembered rather well.

These floors had become almost restful after enough attempts, sixteen through twenty especially, provided I stayed away from the places that had taught me otherwise. I looked toward a bare patch between the grass. An arrow had caught my ankle somewhere like that. Early on, when goblins still looked enough like small humans that I hesitated before striking them. I had fallen, reached for the shaft, and given the nearest group time to reach me. Their hands had been small.

That had made very little difference once enough of them were holding me down. Petra brushed against my shoulder. I raised a hand, and she stopped. There had been worse deaths since. Physical pain eventually became something I could remember without having to stop what I was doing. The other experiences were less cooperative. Some had left me able to walk around afterward, which had made escaping them considerably more complicated. A green shape passed through the grass beside me. I stayed still.

The goblin was close enough that I could see a patch of dried mud behind its ear. It pushed through the stems, looking ahead, and passed without turning toward us. Petra made a small sound.

"Hush, lass," Mimir whispered. The goblin slowed. I kept my hand raised until it moved again. Only then did I draw mana along the pathways toward my eyes, carefully enough that the effort remained inside me. My sight sharpened unevenly. The nearest grass became irritatingly clear before the faint trails beyond it began to separate. Pathfinder normally highlighted nodes. I had learned to follow the mana between them by feeding the skill through my eyes, an adjustment the system had never bothered to name.

It resembled the Assassin trait I had used against the World-Eater, though getting the result this way required more attention. A thin trace moved away through the grass. I followed it to the goblin. Nothing close enough to interfere showed beside it. Farther off, the mounted patrol continued along the road. I shifted my knee toward the solitary trace.

"What are ye doing?" Mimir asked. I pointed.

"Aye, I've eyes. Ye could clear the lot with Lux." Petra looked down at him. I turned just enough to bring the objective back into view. [Stealth Mission] [Objective: Reach the cave beyond the rocky mountains without being detected.] The mountains stood beyond the field. From this position I could see only their upper slopes, with the nearer ground hidden by grass and the remains of old walls. Lux would make getting there straightforward in several respects and ruin the one that mattered.

I put a finger against my lips.

"Keep quiet." Mimir's eyes narrowed. Petra pressed her lips together, and a small smile appeared before she looked away. I left them beside a low stone and followed the goblin. The ground dipped enough to let me move without raising my head above the grass. I placed my feet where the stems had already bent beneath its passage. It was muttering to itself. Occasionally it stopped to pull something off its clothes, giving me time to close the distance. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site.

Support the author by reading it there. I waited until it stepped around a clump of roots. Then I caught it from behind. My forearm closed beneath its jaw while my other hand covered its mouth. Its heels dug into the soil. I lowered my weight and pulled it against me before it could gain room to swing an elbow. For several seconds, there was far too much movement.

'Stay down, damn it.' One nail caught the edge of my sleeve. I tightened my hold, watching the grass ahead instead of the fingers scraping at me. The goblin's struggles weakened. I lowered it onto its side and kept my hand in place until I was certain it would remain quiet. Petra approached when I beckoned. I reached for a dagger. [Mundane Dagger: Unavailable.] I had forgotten it was destroyed a long time ago.... I read the message with the goblin pinned beneath my knee.

Of all the things I had collected, apparently I had neglected a simple knife. I checked again, which achieved nothing except giving Mimir time to examine the situation.

"A fine hunt, lad. Shall we sit on it until winter?" I couldn't use the ashen staff because it costed some mana. I was stingy when it came to that particular type of resources. I looked at Petra's quiver.

"An arrow." She drew back slightly.

"What are you planning to do?"

"Experience is of no use to me at present. Its skin and bones might be."

"That explains very little."

"Give me one." She selected an arrow and held it toward me by the shaft. I took it close to the head, where it would be less likely to break. Mimir stared up from my belt.

"Ye're not about to skin a goblin." I adjusted my grip.

"By the empty bowls of the underworld, ye are."

"Quiet." I ended the goblin's remaining movement with the arrowhead and waited again. Hooves were still audible, though farther away. Nothing answered the disturbance in the grass. The arrow made an awkward tool. I had to work slowly, keeping its shaft clear of the roots while opening enough of the carcass to get what I needed. A proper dagger would have saved time. I was going to remember that, assuming I found one before becoming occupied with something more interesting. Petra turned away.

I gathered the dark green blood and greasy matter onto my sleeve, then rubbed it across the front of my robe. The cloth took it readily. White had been an unfortunate colour to choose for this floor.

"What are you doing?" she asked again. This time she sounded as though she would prefer a different answer.

"Covering my scent." I worked it over my shoulders, then along the cloth beneath my arms. My hands were slippery enough that I nearly lost the arrow. I laid it on a stone and used both palms instead. Mimir coughed. I looked down. A green streak ran across his forehead and into one eyebrow.

"Ye dung-anointed little calamity. What have ye done to me?"

"Hold still."

"I am hanging from your belt!"

"Then stop moving your mouth." Petra bent forward with a hand against her lips. Her shoulders jerked once. She swallowed, tried to straighten, and immediately looked away from me again. I rubbed the mixture along the lower part of my robe and over my boots. There were still clean places behind my knees. I dealt with those while she kept her eyes on the wall. Mana could be suppressed. I had done that before the goblin passed us. Scent required something else. Their long noses were useful far beyond their appearance.

Sweat caught in a collar could betray someone whose mana was perfectly concealed. Clothing carried it after the wearer stopped moving. Human scent interested them more than most animals did, and women attracted particular attention. Petra had no reason to know how much of herself she was leaving in the air.

"You need to do the same," I said. She looked at my hands.

"No." I waited.

"Carlos, I can't put that on."

"You can. Start with your sleeves." Her fingers closed around the fabric at her wrist. She held it away from her skin, then released it without reaching toward the remains. Mimir had stopped complaining. I wished he would offer another useful instruction about shoulders. He watched her instead. I lowered my voice.

"If they catch your scent, hiding in the grass will not help. Imagine thirty of them reaching you before you can draw another arrow." She looked toward the road.

"They will pull you down. I have seen what they do to human women they capture. You do not want to remain alive for it." Her face tightened. I could have said it more gently, but gentleness would not change what waited beyond the wall. For a moment she stayed where she was. Then she set her bow on a dry patch and knelt.

"On my clothes?"

"Yes. All the places that carry sweat. Your boots too." She reached toward the carcass, stopped short, and drew her hand back. The next attempt went farther. She collected some of the greasy matter with her fingers and pressed it against one sleeve, spreading it carefully while looking at the cloth.

"More," I said.

"I heard you." She dragged her palm farther up the sleeve. A little caught beneath her nails. She stared at it, swallowed, then worked what remained into the other arm. I checked the road while she continued. Her breathing was louder than before, but she kept her mouth closed. She gathered another handful and rubbed it down the front of her tunic, avoiding the bow strap until I pointed to it.

"That too." She covered it. Mimir muttered something about the indignities of pilgrimage. Neither of us answered. Petra leaned sideways to reach beneath her arm, then smeared the residue over her boots. Grass stuck to the wet leather. She left it there and held her hands away from herself while deciding where else to put them. I pointed to her shoulders. She closed her eyes briefly before reaching for another handful.