“Oaths, oaths, oaths. Is it truly necessary to swear yet another?” Bimpthki asked, after Caen proposed a second contract.

  Everyone in the room watched the blue-skinned man quietly, even his companion, Povida.

  He made another sound of irritation. “Very well! Let’s do what we must.”

  Hshnol constructed another agreement, and all the parties found it amenable.

  “It’s safe,” Caen sent to the shadeling through their connection, even as he said it vocally in Klakalk. “You can come out now.”

  He could feel fear from the shadeling. Many whispers reached his ears.

  “They will kill me on sight.”

  “Us not kill you, fool thing,” Bimpthki said in halted speech, taking Caen by surprise.

  That wasn’t quite Klakalk, but several of the words the man had just used were familiar.

  “Ektlk?” Caen asked in Thermish.

  “Yes,” the Percipient Summoner said. “It’s how we communicated with Subterfuge Of The Third Slant That Contorts Itself This Way And That.”

  Caen turned his attention back to the shadeling in his shadow. “They have sworn further oaths of non-aggression and will neither harm nor permit you to be harmed.”

  “Our agreement requires you to dispose of my pursuers, not bring me before them!”

  “If I can convert them to allies, then those requirements will be fulfilled.”

  The contract prevented the shadeling from frustrating Caen’s efforts to solve its problems. With the obvious exception of combat, it was bound to assist him in whatever way it could.

  After a few moments of silence, the shadeling flowed out of Caen’s shadow and came to sit beside him.

  Bimpthki’s expression darkened, and even Povida struggled to hide her displeasure from her face. Caen quickly related the current discussion to the shadeling.

  From his connection to the shadeling’s soul, he could feel a palpable distrust and an urgent desire to flee. It seemed convinced that this was an elaborate attempt to kill it. Caen reminded the shadeling that the Summoners needed access to the item it had stolen, and were thus motivated to keep it alive.

  Both Summoners could speak Ektlk, but Caen still had to help a little with translations whenever a misunderstanding occurred.

  “Will… will it cause pain?” the shadeling asked.

  “Hopefully,” Bimpthki spat.

  “No,” Povida said, glaring at her companion. “There should be some discomfort at first, but nothing quite at the level of pain.”

  “And you will not kill me afterwards, or hunt me down?”

  Povida let out an exasperated sigh. “We were only hunting you to retrieve our stolen item.”

  “And to enact justice,” Bimpthki muttered.

  “Your oaths will be extensive,” Caen assured both parties.

  After some more questions, the shadeling reluctantly agreed to partner with the Summoners.

  “Within two weeks, we will need to begin testing,” Povida said. “Our biggest concern is locating you, shadeling. We can provide you with an item that integrates with the key, allowing us to track you easily, as long as you don’t conceal yourself.”

  There were back and forths as the Summoners and the shadeling tried to give up as little leverage as possible. But Hshnol nailed down specifics that both sides could stomach. Caen assisted Hshnol in curating some of the terms of the contract. His help was not needed in the slightest, but it was good practice. He was learning a lot just watching Hshnol work.

  “What name do you go by, shadeling?” Povida asked.

  “You may call me The Seventh Guile That Twists Itself.”

  There was an odd connotation to the shadeling's word choice. Caen wasn't adept enough at the language, but he picked up on some nuance through their connection.

  “That Twists… ‘Himself’?” Caen asked the shadeling.

  "‘Itself’ is the proper naming convention,” the shadeling answered. “But ‘himself’ would be more applicable to me.”

  “Well, I look forward to working with you, The Seventh Guile That Twists Itself,” Povida said.

  ***

  The night was cool and mostly quiet. Clouds rumbled softly overhead.

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  “I was not expectin’ that to go so well,” Sormot drawled as their group stepped out of the bungalow. “I ought to go check on the others. Make sure the deputes didn’t give them trouble.”

  “Thank you, Sormot,” Caen said. “We’ll meet you back at the inn.”

  She and her subordinate split off from the group, running back to the abandoned barn in Eastway.

  Those shadeling corpses would be wonderful for Chasma.

  The Seventh Guile was back in Caen’s shadow, and the shadeling wouldn’t leave until he’d fulfilled his own portion of their agreement: answering Caen’s questions.

  Caen turned to Vensha’s party members. “Thank you so much, Amni and Mafrolem,” he said to the pair. “You were of great help today.”

  They’d both been uncharacteristically quiet all this time.

  “Y-yeah,” Amni replied. “It was no trouble.”

  Mafrolem nodded. “Hardly even needed our help.”

  “I can tend to your wounds—” Caen began.

  “Don’t worry about it, lad,” Mafrolem said. “We’ll be fine. Need to get a drink.”

  “You’ll want to swear this one to silence, though,” Amni added, jabbing a thumb at Mafrolem and smiling.

  “Ha! It’s true,” the man laughed. “I become a very er… ‘robust conversationalist’ once I’ve had a few.”

  Hshnol bound the Flora practician to a geas, and the two split ways with the group after Vensha promised to come find them later in the day.

  “Let’s go back to the inn,” Caen said.

  ***

  His family members were still awake, to no one’s surprise. They’d been unable to sleep. Orissa seemed the most stressed out by the situation.

  “She’s out of practice,” Zeris teased, but her mother gave a scolding glare.

  They’d gathered in one of the adjoining rooms, and it took little time to bring them all up to speed.

  “What’s this danger the shadeling spoke of, then?” Ergen asked.

  “That’s what we’re about to find out,” Caen said. “I’ll translate whatever I ask him, along with his replies.”

  There were nods all round.

  “The Seventh Guile That Twists Itself,” Caen prompted.

  The shadeling flowed out of his shadow and came to sit before him. Even though Caen had warned them about this, his parents and Aunt Grena startled at the shadeling’s sudden appearance.

  Caen noted how the shadeling cast no shadow in the brightly lit room. It seemed as though The Seventh Guile did not obstruct the passage of light.

  “You said that there were others who would come after me,” Caen began. “You clearly weren't talking about the Summoners.”

  “I was not,” The Seventh Guile replied. “The Summoners are the least of my enemies. My kin, Subterfuge Of The Third Slant That Contorts Itself This Way And That, whom your allies killed was one of those who would come for you.”

  “So, other shadelings, then?”

  “No, not just any shadelings,” The Seventh Guile said. “Shadelings like me. Those deviated from the same source. I am a clone of a clone of a clone of a clone. We are many, thousands upon thousands, severely changed after long periods of separation from our precursors.

  “My inherited memories of that time are exceedingly hazy. But I remember my originator, the source of all these precursors, and his mark stood out to me when I sensed you. It is different in you. Different, in many ways, from what I and my kin possess. But it is undeniable, and many of them would seek to covet it for themselves.”

  “You would have consumed me for power as well?” Caen asked.

  “Eventually, perhaps,” The Seventh Guile admitted shamelessly. “But in the meantime, I simply wanted a safe place to hide. And a… vehicle that I could direct towards opportunities for my growth, and away from those who sought to harm me. By hiding in your shadow, I can avoid various forms of detection.”

  Caen pushed aside how unsettled he was by all this. “Why my shadow?”

  “There are different grades of concealment or obfuscation within each shadow,” The Seventh Guile explained. “Yours possesses one of the more potent grades I have ever encountered.”

  “Is this related to the mark you sensed in me?”

  “Perhaps. This characteristic of shadows is present in everything, just to varying degrees.”

  Caen glanced at Uncle Teiro. Stable cords connected the man and Shleinu to the shadeling. Caen still suspected that his mother and uncle also possessed his fourth bloodline.

  Caen frowned. “Who has the most ‘potent’ shadow among everyone here? Besides myself, of course.”

  The shadeling's tail pointed at Teiro. “Him. The grade of his shadow’s obfuscation is significantly higher than those of the others here, but much less than yours.”

  “Who has the next best?”

  The shadeling pointed at Shleinu. “After him is her, with a slightly less potent shadow.” The shadeling pointed at Hshnol. “Then him.”

  Caen couldn’t draw any conclusions from such a small sample size.

  “This mark you spoke of, is it a bloodline?”

  “Bloodline. Hmm.” The Seventh Guile was quiet for a moment, and Caen could sense confusion from its soul. “Something continually passed down from successor to successor, yes? An interesting word. I do not know. Perhaps. I merely recognized my originator’s essence in you.”

  After Caen translated the shadeling’s words, he and Zeris exchanged a look.

  “I saw a seven-tailed shadeling on that day. Is this the originator you are referring to?”

  “No. The one you saw upon that outcropping was a deviated clone like myself. It was I who unintentionally drew her attention that day. I hid in your shadow before she could locate me. I do not know her reason for being there, but the owner of the mark you bear is her originator as well.”

  “How many tails does your originator possess?”

  “I… do not remember.”

  It was very possible that this shadeling’s originator was one of Caen's ancestors. “Is your originator part human?” Caen asked.

  The Seventh Guile was silent for some time. “No. I do not believe so.”

  Caen's mind churned as he pondered all this. “Can you sense this mark on me right now?”

  “Not right now. You exhibited the most significant spike of my originator's essence on that first day in Lifeblood of Darkness’s Light. I have sensed his essence a few times since then. While in your shadow as you fought off the Summoners, for example. And even a few hours before then.

  “Each of these times, it was a brief spike, but any of my kin nearby would have detected it. And such a thing marks you as ideal for consumption.”