Inch by Inch

The pit fell away before them, down thirty-three feet and one inch to the first terrace, then sixty-six feet and four inches to the next. At the sixth step, the inaccuracies in the miner’s measurement reared their head. It was 199 feet deep, not the 198 that it should have been as six times thirty-three. A few terraces further down a small lake had filled in the pit, hiding the worsening mistakes.

It was something only Jay would notice. The bare cliffs cared little for the inconsistency in the wound they had been dealt. Decades of mining had stripped all value from the area. What stone remained was a familiar chalk-gray. Much of the lower city walls had been built with stone from this old quarry.

“What are we here for?” Ana asked.

It was a fair question. The three of them stood alone, fully armored and ready at the edge of the winding clockwise path down into the quarry. There were no houses here, no clients.

“Two reasons,” Jay said. “I wanted you to test something, and-” He waved his spear at Kane. “-I think that with Kane’s Threads we can make a bit of money. Do you remember when Peter and Tema were telling us about Oddities around Lauchia?”

Kane nodded. “After the knobs confusion.”

“Which you said we were going to hunt again today,” Ana added. “And that was strange enough, because I thought you wanted to avoid hunting.”

Kane hummed in agreement with her. It was a reaction that was happening far too often in the last few days.

“Our next task isn’t for another two days. I thought it would be good to get out of the city and away from all the protesting.”

“That’s not it.” Ana squinted at him. “You always make a funny expression when hunting comes up.”

“I’ve nothing against hunters-hunting,” Jay rushed out. He thought they tended to be a bit on the crazy side, but that wasn’t anything against hunters individually. It was their general profession and work he wanted to avoid getting dragged into.

In Kavakar, hunters could claim bounties on hostile oddities from the guard. They sold meat to the butcher and furs to the tanner, but that wasn’t the end of what could be harvested from an oddity. There were the odds and ends, the quirks of an oddity. For those, they went to his family’s store. Often to him, looking for a payout.

It made for strange encounters that had stayed in his memory.

What the wilds am I meant to do with eyeballs as solid as iron that still dripped viscera? Jay rolled those back across the counter with a quill.

Do they want me to taste the ‘berries‘ they’d brought, or tell them it is safe to eat their own prize? He just pointed to the door before fetching the cleaning supplies.

Was he to coo at the glowing hair woven into a foot-long rope and tell them they did a good job? And why, why to all the three, did they not clean up before coming? The worst stank more than their ‘prizes‘, and the best left muddy trails throughout the shop that he’d have to clean up.

Jay had nothing against hunters singularly. It was their general way of things and attitude he disliked. Some brought the wilds back with them and never bothered to try otherwise.

“Quags,” he said, wresting himself from the memories. ”We’re here for quags. I asked around and apparently there’s a bit of an infestation. People aren’t allowed to swim here anymore.”

The distraction worked. Kane turned away from Jay and searched the quarry. “You think I will be able to see past their camouflage?”

“Yes, and the look away effect.” Quags were a big issue for Lauchia, far more than fluffballs, and in an entirely different category to knobs. They would have been targeted for being aggressive Oddities that could reproduce, but what made them far more dangerous was how they hunted. Quags were ambush creatures with skin that blended into an environment. To worsen the issue, the oddities had the ability to turn the eye away. You could walk right past the oddity and not even notice it. Unless it attacked. You’d notice then.

An adult quag was large enough to engulf the average human. A sedative in its tendrils would solve any issues with sound soon after. It was a sleep you’d never wake from. The creatures were deadly, and if it wasn’t for a slow digestion and reproduction rate, possibly deadly enough to kill a village or town.

“I’m hoping you’ll see the Threads-the magic, rather than the skin or the effect. I asked around and Lauchia deals with them in two ways. The first, is to send a shield in. Someone with a Word that will protect them from the sedative, or any damage the quag could do. When they get captured, they alert their teammates and everyone kills the monster. The second, is to have someone with a stone or ground sense to detect them.”

“Why- why haven’t they done that here?” Ana asked. She’d gone pale. It was an understandable reaction. As the smallest of them, she would be the easiest target for these creatures.

Jay looked at the pit again. It was a giant scar on the earth, not quite as impressive as the canyon they’d seen in the wilds a week before, but for something man-made, it was a sight to see.

“All the quarrying has messed up the terrain and soil too much for any kind of terrain sense to work well. I was told-“ Miles, his informant. “-that they have trouble spotting anything strange here. As for shield or bait method, it’s about the area. The quarry is too big. It’d take far too long to stumble around waiting to be attacked. And the quags can rest on walls with their tendrils. Clear one area and they could fill in behind.” He sighed. “And money. Bakti’s guild is apparently negotiating with the city to do it. It’s slow work. Anyone with terrain sense in the city is from a wealthy family. And they are needed to keep all the quarrying going in the wild.”

It was cheaper to condemn the old quarry than clear it out.

“What if I can’t see them?” Kane asked. “It is a risk to rely on my Word.”

Jay heard a slight waver in Kane’s voice. Kane’s Word and the man himself. It was the only time when the tall swordsman was unreliable, when he was lost in his Word. Paying the cost and reaping the benefits all at the same time. Could Kane be trusted to use his Word and not lose sight of why?

“You wanted to train your Words.” He winced after saying it. The words had come out more combative than he’d wanted. It would also start that conversation up again.

“Our Words,” Ana corrected, crossing her arms.

The tension that had been following them for the last few days resurfaced. It had never left, just remained buried, waiting for its chance to latch on again.

Jay avoided the rebuke. He unslung his bag from his back and crouched down to open it. “That’s why I got this. Ten meters of rope. We tie ourselves up and walk around the edges of the quarry. Kane, your eyes don’t have much issue with distance, do they?”

“No.”

“Then if you can see one on our trip around, we’ll know you can find them. There shouldn’t be too much of an issue up here in the grass. They apparently can’t mimic movement all too well and the strange stillness will catch our attention, but we’ll be tied together just in case.“

“If you had time to buy that, you could have told us about this,” Ana said. As closed off as her expression was, she accepted a strand of the rope eagerly.

“I wasn’t sure if we should then. I got the rope, but it could’ve been used for anything.”

“What changed your mind?” Kane asked.

“The protests.” Jay stood, picking his bag up again. “More adventurers and their families are outside the bureau and the council offices. The task hall was full when I went to visit.” The number of tasks on the wall hadn’t seemed to change, but the room was full. “If we can do this, it would be good to find out now.” When we aren’t desperate.

Desperate people took risks. Risks that Jay didn’t want to take.

Ana accepted the answer easily. It seemed she asked out of curiosity rather than any disagreement with the idea. They spent ten minutes tying themselves up and testing the line. It wouldn’t do for the rope to slip at a bad moment. Jay and Kane were each tied to the ends, with Ana in between them. Kane would lead the way around the quarry, and the back of a group was the most dangerous place to be when facing an ambush predator. It was only fair for Jay to take that risk.

A dry wind blew from the south, carrying powdery sand and a hint of rotten eggs. The wilds around the city must have changed in the last hour or so. It was an unpleasant change, but Jay got used to it after about twenty minutes of slow progress around the quarry rim. A few minutes after that, the three of them grew familiar with the distance they needed to keep from each other. Too close and the rope would drag. Too far and someone would tug everyone else.

They walked slower than they would on a patrol, taking hesitant steps forward as Kane scanned the pit on their right. Occasionally, Ana would need to prod Kane to get him moving, the swordsman lost in his Word, or to redirect him away from the edge if his steps went a little too close.

It was horrendously boring work. The area around the quarry wasn’t even interesting to look at. It was all too tame, with all the wild cleared out decades before. At the fifty-minute mark, Jay was ready to give up on the plan, but they were close enough to the halfway point on the trip that turning back was pointless.

Six minutes later, Kane spoke. His voice was wispy and breathy, like he was mumbling in his sleep. “I believe I see one.”

Jay’s hands clenched on his spear, and he hurried to catch up to his teammate. Following the line of Kane’s head, he stared down into the second row of terraces below. Rocks, gravel, and cart tracks. All sized with certainty, nothing out of place or not adding up.

“You sure?” he asked, scanning the section again. It was slightly foolish. Jay knew he shouldn’t be able to see a quag, that wasn’t how his eyes worked, but he couldn’t help himself.

“No.” Kane’s voice began to steady. He blinked. “But it is harder to see the tighter I grip.”

Jay squinted at the area, not to give him a better look at the numbers, but by reflex as he tried to puzzle through Kane’s words.

“What does it look like?” Ana asked, lifting herself up to get a better look at the terrace below.

“Threads,” Kane answered, a bit taut, defensive. “I can’t see it, but I can see Threads.”

“Wouldn’t that make it more likely you’re seeing something?” Ana asked, chewing her upper lip. “If it was something else, you would be able to ‘see’ see it, right?”

Kane remained silent.

“It could be some residue from the digging,” Jay said, rejoining the conversation. Words left lingering marks sometimes. He doubted it, surely he would be able to see something if it wasn’t a quag, but he knew he wanted to see something. It was very easy to trick yourself into believing things. “Let’s keep going. If it was a quag, we should have seen more by now.”

They only walked for another 189 m before Kane stopped again and alerted them to a new sighting. This time, he was certain that he was looking at the same thing as before. It didn’t confirm anything, but with two further sightings on the return to the road, Jay had a new theory.

“I think it is quags you’re seeing.” He held up a hand to stall any rebuttals. “Every time we’ve stopped so far, you’ve been looking at the upper two terraces. I know you said distance wasn’t an issue, but you also said you had to loosen your ‘grip’? If your Word works anything like eyes, it might be harder to see the further it is.

Kane turned and looked at the quarry. He seemed fixated at the cliff face directly opposite them. After a minute or two, he turned back. “It’s possible. I can’t see anything at those spots now.”

“We’ll have to test it,” Ana said, sharing a look with Kane.

“And look at the path into the quarry.” Jay pointed out the spiral road leading down. “It runs clockwise. We followed it around. If someone was trying the shield-bait method, maybe they started here and followed the path around. That could be why we didn’t see any for a while.”

Ana bunched and released her hands around her spear. Her grips were orange now, and droplets of color had started spreading around the shaft. “I say we do it. Kane should be able to see them, and worst case we have the rope and Cut.”

“I agree,” Jay said, looking to Kane. Two votes cast, but the one remaining would decide it. The plan hinged on Kane. If he was unsure he could spot the quags before the team stumbled on them, then they would stop here. Knob hunting was still an option. They likely had enough clout with the Slow Keeping farmers to be allowed on their land.

“We go slowly.” Kane’s voice was steady.

Jay exhaled. This was it then.

The path down into the quarry was gravelly and uneven. Streams from rainfall had scoured channels towards the center of the pit, clawing furrows across the path. It had been decades since it had been maintained like the roads around Lauchia. Kane led the team down.

They decided after a short debate to follow the second level of terraces around to where they’d seen the first quag. This would place them further from the path out, but it gave them a relatively ‘safe’ area above them and at their back.

Jay’s breaths came with difficulty on the walk. He needed to wipe his hands off his pants a couple of times to keep the shaft of his spear from slicking. The rope at his waist felt heavy. It pulled at him far more than it should.

The only sound was the crunch of gravel under their feet, and the occasional hushed warning from Kane. There were more quags below.

“There it is.”

The words created a matching pit in Jay’s stomach.

Kane pointed ahead, gesturing at an empty swath of soil and stone.

“You’ll need to guide us. It should be easier to see once we wound it, and it starts to move.” Jay spoke with a confidence he didn’t feel. He leveled his spear at the area. “I’ll take the front. Guide me, then join me Kane. Ana, I want you to hang back. The quags can move quickly, but they don’t have a lot of stamina. I’ll try to hold it in place. Find a chance to end it.”

Ana nodded, setting her stance. “What about the rope?”

The rope? Oh. The rope.

It would hamper their movement, but... if the quag got Kane, or another one arrived while they were fighting, it would be their only way to find a lost team member.

“Leave it.” Jay looked to Kane, checking to see if he had an objection. “We have enough space between us to move, and it lets us keep track of each other.” Kane showed no sign of agreement or argument. Jay turned back to Ana. ”If something happens, cut it.”

He took a deep breath and stepped closer to the empty space. “Ready? The fight will start quickly.” As soon as he got a stab in, or the quag decided it wanted a bite first.

With their agreement, Jay advanced.

“Forward.”

“A meter to the right.”

There was an awkward moment as he stepped in front of Kane, blocking his teammate’s vision. They all had to adjust, and the next order came what felt like eons later.

“Not that far to the right. Down a bit.”

This would be a lot easier if I was calling the directions, Jay grumbled. Kane’s voice filled his world. That and the ground before him as he watched for any movement.

“You are...” Kane’s voice grew fainter. ”Close. Another two… five meters.”

The lack of certainty sent a flash of ice down Jay’s back.

“Knee height.”

That’s it. Jay started to stab. The thrusts didn’t carry his full body weight. They were probing, testing.

“Right.”

Another stab.

“Down?”

Jay reached forward and was stopped.

The tip of his spear fuzzled. It was there, and it wasn’t. For microseconds, the tip was pitted by rock and soil, then it was hard metal again. Then the quag moved.

It was long, perhaps two and a half meters from front to back. The width was harder to determine, the fuzziness more potent there. The effect was at least a meter across. Jay’s Word was having the same issues with the creature as his eyes were. The space flickered, colors intact, but wrong as the oddity moved. Rocks would become green, and a tuft of grass chalk-gray.

Jay backpedaled, wrenching his spear back. The moment of hesitation should have cost him, but he got lucky. The fuzzling increased as the quag slid around to face him. They’d approached it from the back.

“You see it?” He shouted.

Kane answered by stepping up on his left, eyes focused. Like Jay, he’d made the mistake of expecting the head to already be facing them.

“Yes!” Ana replied, voice wavering.

Jay lunged forward, throwing his weight into the thrust. “Pinning it.”

He got it at the side, roughly three quarters of the way along the flickering. It was infuriating how he didn’t know. The spear slid in with resistance, but nothing like armor. It was a knife into thick straw. Wood followed after the metal. He couldn’t tell how far.

Maroon seeped out from the wound. The fuzz grew and shook as it began to thrash. The quag made no sound.

Jay strained to keep hold of the spear. The oddity pulled at him, trying to twist the weapon out of his hands and turn to him.

All Jay could hear was his heavy breathing, the squeak of his wood and footsteps on gravel. His hot breath brushed against his cheeks.

“Go behind Ana,” Kane ordered while he did the opposite. He darted around to Jay’s right and swung his sword. The start of the stroke was off, digging into the soil instead of flesh, but the experienced swordsman adjusted. When the blade met flesh, the power was reduced, but a new line of fuzziness appeared all the same.

The quag buckled again, near throwing Jay off.

“Fuck.” Jay changed his grip, throwing his elbow over his spear and tucking the shaft under his armpit and close to his body. He had to step closer to the creature to do it. It put him within reach.

“What do I attack?” Ana asked, voice panicked. It was bizarre how she could cut down an Oddity in an instant, all instinct, but would panic when she had a moment to think beforehand.

“Anything,” Jay roared. “Just Cut.”

His boots disappeared under the fuzz.

I can’t feel my toes.

Is that new? Are they gone? Could I before?

Panic started to bubble. The unknown clawed at him, in sight yet out of his vision. One overriding thought kept him in place. His team were here. They relied on him. He needed to keep the quag down.

Kane’s swinging grew more accurate. He was in constant motion, always stepping in with each slash to use the weight of his body to his advantage. It was no dance, however. This was precise. Mechanical.

The quag’s movements grew more frantic. Jay’s feed skidded in the dirt as he tried to keep it still. His ribcage ached, and something in his arm was pinched. He couldn’t keep this up forever.

The oddity was still silent, an unnerving quiet in this fight to the death.

Risking a glance at Ana, he was relieved by the sight. She was cutting furrows in anything in front of her, mimicking months of rainfall in seconds as she swung at the fuzzy space.

“Now,” Kane murmured, drawing Jay’s attention back. He didn’t swing this time. Kane stepped forward and stabbed. The sword sank deep, perfectly centered in a series-a box drawn with maroon lines on the fuzziness. The blade disappeared up to the hilt.

The quag stilled.

Kane pulled his sword back, out of the box.

Jay blinked. It was a box. Kane had carved a target into the creature with his earlier swings.

The pressure, the fight against him stopped. The quag moved no more. Jay waited it out, not letting up the pressure on his spear. Seconds counted to a minute.

“Kane. Any more around?” They’d made a lot of noise.

His muscles strained in the pause it took for Kane to respond.

“Nothing.”

Jay’s muscles relaxed. He shuffled his shoes out from under the tendrils. The leather was cut up and scarred, but still there. He wriggled his toes, searching for sensation. They didn’t feel any more there.

A tug at his waist made him jump and his heart seize. He followed it to find Ana pulling at three to four lines of rope all tangled together.

“Is it too late to cut this?” she groaned.