The Nine Bishops

Now that she was no longer anonymous, the stranger who had dominated Mika’s curiosity and stoked her fears for a week seemed less threatening. The woman was not much older than herself, with black curly hair, brown skin, and tired purple eyes that reminded her of Zaya’s. After taking off the mask, she let her hair down. It wasn’t very long.

Mika thought quickly about how to explain how she knew what the object was and that it was fake, without revealing to this woman that she had a Bishop’s medallion for herself. Especially, since Mika carried it with her in that moment.

There were two reasons Mika knew the object the woman hoped to buy was a Bishop’s medallion. She could decipher the parchment, first, because of the unique numbering language, but secondly because she recognized the figures to be measurements: height, width, length, volume, and mass. Mika had coincidentally taken those measurements of her own medallion. She was so curious about it she wanted to learn everything she could about the medallion. There were no books that described the properties of the medallions, only the statement, repeated over and over by many authors, that there were only nine medallions circulating at a given time.

So Mika did her own research, secretly using all of the resources found in the guild’s lab, which was owned by Doc. She learned all the properties of her medallion but found nothing magical in it. In fact, she had thought her research was meaningless.

But she had noticed one peculiar thing: Every measurement had a nine in it. At first that seemed like coincidence, but she added all of the measurements together when they were the same unit, and the numbers added to exactly nine. Mika changed the unit of measurement and the numbers still always added to nine, no matter what.

So, when she read the black market parchment, she knew immediately what she was looking at. The numbers all included the ancient-number equivalent to nine. She stared at the figures, doing the math as quickly as she could, and quickly realized the numbers didn’t add to nine. In fact, the total wasn’t even close, which is why Mika had inadvertently said aloud what was on her mind.

“Well, are you going to tell me how you knew it was fake, or not?” the purple-eyed woman barked at Mika, who was stalling while she considered how to avoid giving her the real reason.

“I spent a lot of time in the library,” she replied slowly, “so I was easily able to decipher the text. I had also read a lot about Bishop’s medallions. After the Selection of Sixteen opening ceremonies, I was fascinated by them, so I learned what I could about them. I snuck into the Deep and found a text that told about its characteristics. I committed them to memory on the odd chance I could someday see one up close. Coincidentally, that situation came in handy in there, I guess.”

The woman pondered this for a moment, while Mika hoped she had lied convincingly.

“Well, now, that is the least of our worries. I can’t guarantee your safety from here. Consider your contract completed. I won’t be returning on the boat,” she said, pulling the contract out, signing it with her finger, and handing it to Mika.

“You expect me to just go back home after what just happened, with no explanation?”

“Look, I don’t owe you an explanation. I’ve paid you for your service. If anything, we are both lucky to be alive. Who knows what would have happened if I had made that deal?”

“Can you at least tell me why you made that contract? You’ve also revealed your identity to me, so aren’t you worried about that?” Mika asked, wondering immediately whether bringing that up had been wise.

“Simple. I needed to contract a low-level guild mage who would do what I asked. You were just collateral in case something happened in there—nothing personal. I don’t trust anyone, honey, but since you saved me back there I at least owed you the courtesy of my identity. It’s not like you can do anything with that, since someone your caliber can’t really take me on,” she said, raising her chin arrogantly.

Mika felt furious—and terribly small, because the purple-eyed woman was probably right. But she’d signed off on the contract, so, despite her shady dealings, the woman was at least good on that end.

“So, what now?”

“Now we both get on with it and go our separate ways,” she answered, already bounding up the stairs, leaving Mika behind.

Mika wanted to at least know the woman’s name but realized that wasn’t going to happen. She stayed at the bottom of the staircase for a moment, deep in thought. This woman was looking for a Bishop’s medallion and thought she’d found it. I wonder how much she was going to pay? she wondered, realizing that the twenty-five silver paid for her services was nothing compared to whatever that amount was.

Mika headed up the stairs and realized from the golden light at the top that the sun was going down. She’d need to get back to the boat quickly or they’d be stuck here for an extra day. As she got closer, she heard the woman’s voice, speaking to someone.

The purple-eyed woman was standing in a defensive posture, her back to Mika, talking to a blindfolded man who was missing an ear and part of his lip. He flashed a sinister yellow smile when he saw Mika emerging from the stone.

“You need to get out of here as fast as you can,” the purple-eyed woman said, without turning her head back to Mika.

“So, this is the bright girl that ruined my boss’s deal,” the blindfolded man said eerily. “It’s a shame that I have to kill such beautiful girls,” he finished in a regretful tone.

Mika felt a chill go down her spine. It wasn’t so much what he’d said that shook her, but the casual way he’d said it. Mika watched the man cautiously, wondering who he was and what he was capable of. She looked for an escape route, but it was a relatively open area; no matter where she ran, her back would be open to attack. And where would she go? It would take time to set sail, and she didn’t want to endanger Carlson and Sully. Mika also had no idea how she might get back to Monsoon without them.

But the man was already in motion. He cast off his blindfold, revealing only empty sockets, foul to lay eyes on. “Finally, I can see clearly,” he said, taking a deep breath and exhaling again.

The woman standing between Mika and the man whispered, “It’s too late to run now. Just don’t get in my way, and I’ll try to keep you alive. No promises, though.”

The sun was low enough so that shadows on the ground began to merge with impending darkness. Mika watched the man closely as he slowly faded from sight.

A moment later, the upper half of his body appeared in front of the purple-eyed woman, wielding a small blade that he slashed toward her throat. As if anticipating the attack, she evaded it perfectly. As soon as he missed, the man disappeared into the darkness.

Meanwhile, the purple-eyed woman had taken another defensive stance and pulled a thin sword with a long hilt from within her robes. She immediately went in to attack the empty space in front of her, where the eyeless man reappeared.

The two dodged and weaved for a while, fighting neck and neck while completely ignoring Mika. Mika watched in amazement. Their magic was so bizarre she couldn’t comprehend it. It might have been the perfect time to escape, but it was also an opportunity to see what it was like for two mages to fight.

It was something like her dream fights with her father. The eyeless man was clearly using some sort of Transformation magic. The purple-eyed woman could have been a Filth, by the way she was fighting. To all appearances she wasn’t using any physical magic, yet her technique had to have had some magic to it.

No normal mage could have fought this man, because he was invisible most of the time. She fought as though she could see him. Mika was trying her best to analyze the fight in case she ended up involved, all the while hoping the purple-eyed woman could hold her own.

Out of nowhere a voice yelled out, momentarily distracting the purple-eyed woman. The eyeless man took advantage of the opening and stabbed her sword-wielding arm. The woman let out a shriek of pain and fell back. The eyeless man then reappeared in full form, looking arrogant.

“You were giving me quite the scare. No one has been able to fight me so competently. They just die,” he said, standing a few feet away from the purple-eyed woman. He then stabbed her in the leg, so quickly she had no opportunity to deflect it. Leaving her incapacitated and grimacing in pain, the man turned his attention to Mika.

Mika was still trying to figure out where the voice had come from.

“Look out!” she heard the woman yell. The man disappeared and, in the blink of an eye, reappeared directly in front of Mika, slashing at her with his knife. Mika dodged but was still wounded across her right shoulder.

Pain shot from her shoulder for just a second, until Mika’s defensive instincts kicked in. A cooling sensation soothed the pain. Ice formed around her body to protect her. The man disappeared and reappeared again, trying to strike her, but his blade could only chip away at ice. Mika’s defenses had kicked in, but she still needed to figure out her offense.

The man pressed on with his attack, but Mika parried all of his thrusts with the ice on her body, protecting herself without conscious thought. But when it came to offensive moves, she couldn’t turn off the tide of her thoughts. She desperately wanted to create a sword as she had done in her dreams, but her magic would not cooperate. Eventually, her defenses would wane and the man was going to kill her.

She heard another shout. The same voice as before, but much closer. The voice was calling her name. She couldn’t help but be distracted. And so was the eyeless man.

“Well, who could be more important than me right now?” he said, contemptuously. “Let’s go find out.”

He disappeared. There was an ominous silence, and then Mika heard a scream. She recognized the voice this time: Carlson!

Mika ran in the direction of the scream and saw the eyeless man standing behind Carlson with the blade to his throat. “I see that I finally have your full attention,” the man said, rubbing Carlson’s head.

“Let him go,” Mika demanded.

“Your wish is my command,” he said, as he swiped the blade across Carlson’s throat and pushed him to the ground. “Now that your friend is dead, can I have your undivided attention?” the eyeless man said, maintaining eye contact with Mika.

“You can have my attention. Even if you failed to kill him,” Mika said, smiling.

Despite lacking eyes, the man could still somehow perceive her expression. Surprised, he shot a look toward the ground, where he’d pushed Carlson. He wasn’t there and, in fact, was standing a safe distance away.

“How?” the man said, completely shocked.

“Maybe you should sharpen your blade,” Mika said confidently.

The eyeless man looked at his blade and saw exactly what Mika had done: she’d turned the sharp end of his blade into, in effect, a popsicle. It had not hurt Carlson—exactly what Mika wanted to happen. She finally had control.

In truth, Mika had always had the ability to control her magic; she’d just been looking in the wrong place. She’d thought it had to do with her mind. But magic, she now realized, came from the heart—and more specifically, from the heart’s intent.

When she’d frozen all of the mages at the circus, her heart’s intent was to start a new life. When she’d defended herself on the Low Road from the bandits, her heart’s intent was to prove her worth. When she saved herself from the fall from the lighthouse, her heart’s intent was to take death on and live. Now in this moment, her heart’s intent was to protect Carlson. With her heart’s intent, Mika could control her magic.

And with her heart’s intent, she was going to defeat this eyeless assassin.

She immediately went on the offensive, taking advantage of the eyeless man’s temporary distractedness. She formulated her own blade in her hand, but he dissipated into the shadows and stayed frustratingly invisible. The instant she let down her guard, she felt a shot of pain in her back. The man had reappeared right behind her with a new blade in hand, with which he’d been able to pierce her thinning ice armor. He didn’t cut too deeply into Mika’s skin, but enough to wound her. She swung her weapon back to strike him, but he disappeared again. The man’s body did not seem to be a physical object, and she had no idea how she was going to hit him.

Mika continued to fight, with no progress, as the man dodged every movement. Each of her strikes sliced through open air, leaving her open. Mika was getting weary and slowing down from the onslaught of stabs. Fortunately, none of her wounds seemed life-threatening, but she was running out of time.

She tried to study his movements, but she couldn’t figure out his technique. Mika sensed that understanding his magic strain was the key to defeating him, but in the heat of battle his bizarre style was hard to scrutinize.

“Watch his shadows!” Mika heard the purple-haired woman shout. While Mika fought, Carlson had gone to tend the woman, and now he had her over his shoulder. Though barely conscious, she had mustered the energy to give Mika the clue she needed.

Mika began focusing on the man’s shadow. Oddly, when he appeared in physical form he had no shadow. But when he vanished, his shadow reappeared.

It was then that Mika realized his magic strain: the man was using his shadow as his physical form. As soon as Mika changed her focus to the shadow, she immediately saw his pattern. He could hurt her only when he physically appeared in his body, but used his Transformation magic to turn into a shadow at other times. By now, the sun was nearly down. Shadows on the ground were lengthening to blend with the shadows in the trees. The man was seemingly losing his advantage, turning into a shadow less often. He seemed constrained by the shadows around him.

Despite her newfound confidence, Mika was feeling that she was at her limit. She had to repair her ice blade continually because it broke with every parry. With each repair, she felt heavier and more sluggish. Her opponent was also slowing down, but not as quickly.

Darkness was falling, the shadows all blending together. The eyeless man no longer disappeared, but remained in his physical form. Mika stood in a defensive stance, heaving, waiting for the next wave of attacks. The man was out of breath too, but he sheathed his blade.

“It seems I failed to kill you quickly enough. My boss will be extremely disappointed with me. It’s time that I get going,” the eyeless assassin said, slowly fading into the darkness. After a few seconds of silence, Mika was sure that he was gone. There were no more shadows, only darkness.

Mika stood up straight. Her ice shell evaporated into the air, and she collapsed. She had never felt so exhausted in her life. She ached in all the places where she’d been stabbed. Some wounds were more severe than others, but she had no critical injuries. Struggling to breathe, she slipped into semi-consciousness. Around her she heard voices, muffled but comforting in tone.

Her vision was fading, too, so she couldn’t tell who was talking. The last thing Mika saw before she faded into a deep slumber was a pair of yellow eyes that reminded her of the past.