Last time on stupid people and the stupid things they do, Wren ran into the desert and Ratcatcher thought about not going after him for a while.
This chapter, Ratcatcher’s gone after him.
From the west came a horrible howling, mixed with eager barking and occasional yelps of pain. The impression was that of hounds on the hunt, but something about the pitch and timbre of the calls didn’t quite match his recollections of such.
From this, Wren insists they’re not hounds at all, instead of the more reasonable assumption that they’re just a different breed.
He notices the caravan’s moving, which means the Guild members aren’t chasing him, which means they’re confident something even worse is after him. I’m not sure what series of rolls Wren failed, but it must have been a truly impressive string of ones, because he’s failing here to identify an anathema he’s already met once. Non-exalts can’t even wield the giant swords exalts use, and his sword clearly wasn’t a Dragonblood’s jade.
Apparently Ratcatcher gave him an hour’s head start, because.
he was heading west, so any time he showed above the gully mouth he’d be silhouetted against the last embers of sunset, while his pursuer moved out of the gathering dusk.
A nice bit of writing here and a good visual. And fading light/gathering dusk is very in theme for an Abyssal chase scene.
It’s a shame that Ratcatcher didn’t justify waiting as having to do with time. If his “hounds” were actually trained hungry ghosts, for example, they’d have to wait for dusk to be any use. Or if he was worried about someone else coming across them and didn’t want to be too visible.
Wren continues to be crazy competent. This time it’s better explained that the last times, though, and a lot more fitting for the sort of character he seems to be. He’s running in gullies to stay out of sight and in the hopes it’ll close his pursuer down, but the hounds are catching up and he realizes their owner must be on horseback. Another gully meets up with his with stones instead of footprint-showing sand, so he lays a false trail further along then scrambles into the other one.
While not nearly as wide as the one he had left, it was almost as deep, and had precious little sand at the bottom to show his footfalls. Tough, wiry roots stretched across the top of the gully at intervals, making it impossible for a rider to maintain his seat if he tried moving at any rate of speed.
So in short, he’s doing a good job of taking Ratcatcher’s advantages and turning them against him using the limited resources available. This, not being able to dodge arrows, is what I want to see from a character who’s supposed to be all about getting out of trouble by the skin of his teeth.
Wren is pretty sure it worked – so much so he starts thinking of the journey back to Chejop and pondering what’s going on.
He had a sneaking suspicion of what the dagger might be and why someone like Ratcatcher might be interested in it
Well, share with the class, why don’t you? Because if it’s as simple as “anathema dagger and he’s anathema” there’s no reason to be cagey and it’s not like it’s some huge deal in the first place. It’d also be good to clear up how educated you are on things – do you think he’s a Solar, do you think all anathema are the same, or are you aware that there’s a death exalt type running around in league with the deathlords and he’s one of those?
What he doesn’t get is why Ratcatcher wanted him as well.
Unless, he realized with a chill, Ratcatcher and his master had been following his track to Talat’s Howe.
I was about to call this ridiculous and contrived, but then I realized that it makes a lot of sense for someone who hasn’t been following Ratcatcher’s nonsensical path. An anathema hunting Wren goes to the Guild and finds someone who says he can get Wren. While the anathema is there, it happens to notice the dagger and decides to buy that as well. As Wren is in the business of both angering anathema and retrieving their items, it’s easy to see how the two might overlap.
He has no way of knowing that Ratcatcher not only followed him since Talat’s Howe but also followed the dagger from Toloc and it’s that which Ratcatcher was actually trying to get.
It’s a shame the author didn’t keep the two plot threads separate. It’d be a good capstone to Wren’s original fuckup if the reason Ratcatcher stumbled on the dagger was because he was looking for Wren.
Unfortunately, Wren’s mistaken about how good a job he did throwing his pursuers. He hears a laugh and finally realizes it’s Ratcatcher on his tail, because he’s not the sort to put two and two together on his own, apparently.
He realizes he’s not going to be able to keep running, so he decides to try standing and fighting rather than tire himself out. Even though he seems to know Ratcatcher is an anathema and therefore he doesn’t have a chance in hell of fighting him.
And at last we meet the hounds.
Their legs were long and their paws wide, and they ran like the wind. But their heads were not the heads of hounds. Instead, their faces were the faces of men. They ran with their tongues lolling out, calling back and forth to one another as dogs would, but from human throats.
So my first impulse is to say cool! and my second is to point out that they’ve removed the most useful part of a hunting dog. These things don’t have powerful jaws and it’s anyone’s guess how they’re able to track by smell so well.
I’m coming down in favor. Abyssals don’t need hunting dogs to actually bring down what they’re hunting, because they’re exalts. The only reason to have anything beyond their own direct power is for the sake of terrorizing people, and insane human-headed dogs certainly fit the bill.
Wren kills a bunch of them, but he’s finally taken down. One trots off with the dagger and the rest pin him down.
The one on his chest leaned toward him and panted, its breath rotten with the stench of raw meat. Wren gagged, and looked into its eyes.
There was madness there, and something that might have been intelligence, and most of all a terrible hunger. Whatever had bred these things, it had done a marvelous job of stripping anything remotely human from them. “You’re not a man any more, are you?” Wren ventured. He expected no response.
Slowly and deliberately, the thing extended its tongue and licked his face. The expression it wore could only be termed a smile.
At last, something properly horrible and fantastic. This would have been a good point to end on, but we do not.
Ratcatcher shows up. Wren says fine, you win and get the dagger, so kill me already.
“Oh no, my dear priest,” said his pursuer, smiling. “I couldn’t do that. As Fong told you, Eliezer Wren, the Prince of Shadows wants to see you.”
This is our dramatic ending line instead, despite the fact there’s little drama in telling us something we’ve known since the first chapter. Ah well.