CHAPTER 7: The Phantom’s Edge - Part 3

  Nevertheless, they were regulars, and he was a Decima. He repelled their weapons, knocked down a few, and broke through the encirclement.

  He ran, leaping over the foundations of the fortress, jumping through a window in a crumbling wall, and finally reaching the edge of the cliff overlooking the lake. The cliff wall tapered beneath his feet until it disappeared into the darkness. From behind, the guards arrived. The three hired Decima were among them.

  “Where are you going now?” one of the Decima said. “This place is too high even for a Decima.”

  Nevertheless, Phantom jumped. He had been preparing a spell and now manifested it. Rows of green discs floated in the air, formed a descending staircase before he plunged to the lake.

  In the dark and cold water, the weight of the magnet dragged him to the bottom at once. But stripping off jacket and pants in a situation like this was part of his routine. His outfit vanished into the impenetrable darkness of the bottom beyond the reach of Prana vision, while he swam to the forest at the edge of the lake.

  For a thief, an alternative escape route was a fortunate coincidence; for a Thief Master, it was a deliberate part of the plan. He had prepared a lantern on the edge of the forest to guide his way. Its dim light ensured that no one would know except him.

  After putting on the clothes he had hidden before, Phantom then headed to his shack in the forest.

  If only he could fly directly to the Viscount's mansion and then escape to his shack. However, the Sense Field rendered those dreams forever impossible. The Sense Field could detect the use of Prana or Mana and determine his position, and would alert enemy Decimae. Flying would only make him a target, and he would be pursued and shot down. Or worse yet, followed and ambushed.

  Several days after he had taken up residence in the forest, he got a surprise. Street urchins happened to find the shack and began living there. The oldest among them was an eleven-year-old girl.

  Phantom could not bring himself to drive them away. He could at least feed them while on his mission. He also taught the girl, Tris, not to light candles to avoid drawing attention.

  Now he realized that not driving them away was a mistake. Seeing yellow light seeping through the shack's cracks, he prepared himself for a second surprise.

  Opening the door, he found two adults playing with Tris and her younger brothers. One of them was skinny, sitting cross-legged next to an unused fireplace in the middle of the room, playing patty-cake with Tris. The other was fat, carrying two children under his arm while the third clung to his neck.

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  “Hi, mister Phantom. Your friends have been waiting for a long time, so we kept them company,” Tris said.

  Skinny grinned, revealing a row of crooked teeth. “That's right, Mister.”

  Phantom sat in front of Skinny, the unused fireplace full of ash separating them.

  “Before you blame yourself too much over the slip,” Skinny said while continuing to play, “remember, we are professional bounty hunters.”

  Skinny placed Tris on his lap. “We like children too. My friend there? He eats them, ha ha ha. So, mister Phantom, return the loot and come with us. The Viscount will pay us, they can go back to street, and we'll all be smiling.”

  Phantom could not do anything – not as long as Tris was on his lap.

  “Oh, by the way, you're Phantom the Thief Master, huh? Pretty damn impressive to earn that title at your age, even if you're still a bit green in the game.”

  “Tris,” Phantom said, “I need to talk with them. Take your siblings and play somewhere far away.”

  Skinny twisted Tris's arm and forced her back onto his lap. Fatty put down the other three children and did not let them out of his sight. Tris was old enough to understand; she tried to free herself but in vain.

  “I want to collaborate, but you'll back out and won't let them go,” Phantom said.

  “You hurt our feelings. We're professionals, we have codes. Ethics. But what the Viscount will do to you, that's out of our hands.” Skinny enjoyed emphasizing his words.

  “I'm not sold.”

  Skinny scratched his close-cropped hair. “Why does it have to be this way all the time? Look, my friend will twist all their heads. He won't enjoy it, but a job’s a job. Someone can be fanatical about their job in this economy.”

  Tris bit Skinny's hand as hard as she could until the skin around his eyes crinkled. “Mister, run!”

  Skinny did not even blink. “Right, Mister, run.”

  Phantom took the metal plate from under his shirt. Taking his time, his grip extended across the fireplace. As Skinny reached to take it, he dropped the plate onto the ash. Skinny's eyes reflexively followed the plate.

  Phantom manifested a spell. A green orb shot from his downward-facing palm, scattering ash throughout the room. Phantom knew the size of this room by heart. He grabbed the plate and, with one step, reached Tris. With three steps forward-right, he kicked Fatty one in the lower gut, sending him crashing through the wooden wall.

  Phantom took the children out through the same hole and told them to run. When he turned around, Skinny had already drawn his machete from behind the cloud of ashes.

  Skinny's movements revealed he was a passive Prana Decima. Phantom could still handle him, but when Fatty joined in, it became more difficult. Fatty was also a passive Decima, and his punches were as strong as a rutting ram's charge.

  In the end, they were indeed professionals. They did not want to risk harm without compensation. After Phantom proved himself as the stronger Decima and was willing to fight to the end, they backed off.

  Phantom made sure he was not followed before meeting Tris at their rendezvous point. The children ran out from behind a large rock as soon as he approached.

  “Sorry,” Phantom said as he wiped Tris's ash-covered face.

  “You’re amazing!” the three boys cheered.

  “Tris, take this money and leave this town. I’m afraid those people will come back. You'll be safer without me.”

  Phantom tousled the hair of the eldest boy. The ash made the other children cough. “Remember what I said about being vigilant?”

  “Blink sparingly!” they replied in unison.

  “And never mention Phantom.”

  “Then, what should we call you?” Tris asked.

  “Rycerval Siordis.”

  “Ri... Ris...”

  Phantom smiled. “Ryse. Call me that.”