Nightsea Outlaw

Drip. Drop.

Cold wrapped around Wen in the underground cistern, and a chill ran up her spine at the voice that echoed from the hall behind her. She knew that Miss Brooke could make copies of herself, but hadn't heard it sneaking up on them.

Maybe it had formed from a drop of water on the ground behind her.

Hiss.

Wen dropped without thinking, and Grayson was there a moment after. His foot flew through the air right where her face had been, crashing into the water clone and sending it crashing against the wall in a splash. If Miss Brooke had been anything but water, Wen would have expected to see blood.

Splash.

Water crashed against the stone cistern's walls.

Wen's shoulder slammed into the ground, and her gun bumped in its aim. She squinted against the jolting pain rocking through her arm, but still managed to line up the shot. The Miss Brooke out on the lake smiled.

Bang. Crack-tsh.

As expected, she distorted her body the moment the bullet left the barrel. A hole formed, dripping water, just large enough to allow Wen's bullet to pass through. It broke against the far wall of the cistern, and ice crackled across the wall.

"Oh, I'm afraid you didn't learn your lesson last time, dear," several copies of Miss Brook spoke as they rose from the water. "That won't work on me. Steam Barrage!"

Hiss.

"Step."

Wen winced, expecting the bullets to come, but in the same moment, two wiry arms grabbed her. Her stomach lurched into her throat as the world around her blurred, and in the next moment, she sat with her back against the cold tunnel wall, Grayson beside her and rising to his full height.

Psh.

Water bullets slammed against the wall, the superheated liquid bursting in a constant barrage of hisses. The cold chill of the cistern melted away in seconds. It wasn't any different than the fight on Dry Turtle—overwhelming attacks and power.

"She's going to be trouble," Grayson grumbled, pulling his hat down over his eyes. "You got anything you can do?"

Wen did. She just didn't know if she could actually hit the water woman. Her training on the trip from Aherlow to Grim Aegis had allowed her to actually use her curse beyond her gun. There were so many things she could try, but she hadn't had a real fight to test them out. Sparring wasn't the same. Even her fight with the Knuckle in the sewers hadn't lasted long enough when she had most of her memories back.

This would be her first real fight with them.

"If you can keep her distracted," Wen whispered. "I can take her down. My curse is ice. I'm her worst enemy."

Grayson eyed her with a sidelong glance before grunting.

"I can't say I like the idea of trusting you with that much." Grayson spat as more steam bullets hit the corner. "But I know I'm not strong enough to negate her. You better come through for me, outlaw."

Outlaw. Not that long ago, Wen could understand his distrust. She had hunted outlaws to turn in for the bounties as a method of survival. She had seen the destruction that outlaws caused across the Fringes.

Now though? She had a more nuanced view.

"Let me get ready," Wen whispered, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath.

She opened her gate. Cold crept out from her heart like a growing frost. It cracked across her bones and sapped the heat from her body. She would have shivered, but her body knew her curse. It accepted her cold nature.

She exhaled, and white mist poured from her mouth as her eyes opened. Her skin, already pale, had an almost bluish tint to it as she stood. Ice formed around her boots in the small puddles on the cistern floor, and even crept up the wall where her back had rested on it.

A steady mist flowed from the tunnel's entrance, where her cold met Miss Brooke's heat.

"You weren't lying." Grayson whistled. "You're ice cold."

"Ice Knives." Wen ran her hand through the air in a semi-circle over her head.

Crack. Crunch.

The water in the air froze as she passed each of five points, and each point formed a long straight blade, complete with a blue-white handle. They were a little overwrought, but Wen liked them that way.

"I'm ready," she whispered.

The knives would stay suspended above her head until she threw them. It was hard to describe, but she had some control over them. They were a part of her, not that different from her arm or leg. She could send them on a trajectory and, for a certain range, control their aim.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

However, at the end of that range, they were not that different from her bullets.

"Step."

Grayson didn't hesitate. The moment she gave her word, he jumped out from the tunnel. Immediately, the water barrage followed him. Wen gave it a five-count as Grayson rushed at the clones.

"One," she whispered. "Two. Three. Four. Five."

Splash.

Grayson's foot collided with one clone's head as she stepped out into the fray. Ten clones in total. She'd have to conjure more knives. Wen threw out one hand, and her first knife rocketed off at the distracted clones.

Fwip. Crack.

Wen already knew the best place to target from her previous fight. The distraction just made it easier. The knife crashed into the foot of the nearest clone. At the touch of the blade, the water froze, and ice cracked up the clone's legs, turning them white.

"You!"

All clones' eyes turned to her, even as the ice cracked up the first. Wen didn't stop. Her hands flicked as she kept walking closer to the clones. Without a distraction, she'd need all the control she could get.

Fwip. Crack. Fwip. Crack. Fwip. Crack. Fwip.

Not all of her shots could be aimed at the feet. The faster she threw the knives, the more she had to aim for the center mass. Part of it was habit. Part of it was simply the best way to aim. Four out of five knives found their way into a water clone, leaving six still standing.

Crunch.

Grayson came in immediately after each hit, his foot breaking the ice into shards and sending them scattering into the water below. In moments, the pool had been filled with ice, not that different from a cold drink.

"Step."

Grayson jumped back to shore, his breath coming in fast gasps. Wen raised her hand, drawing the same circle in the air and conjuring five more knives.

They could do it. There were only six more clones. Fear danced in Miss Brooke's eyes. Freezing the clones had to be having some effect. It was draining her strength to have to create more, and the ice didn't seem like a valid material.

A rational part of Wen's mind wondered why. Why couldn't Miss Brook conjure an army of clones, constantly refilling them even before the earliest creations had fallen? What was stopping her?

Perhaps it was the same reason that her power didn't just let her control ice. She could create it with the cold from her body, the same way Sayed could make his heat, and transfer it to his sword. However, Sayed could not manipulate the flame of a campfire, nor could she bend falling snow to her will.

At least, that was the case as far as she knew.

"Working together to slow me down, I see." Miss Brooke's clones grimaced as she raised her hands. "I can't have that, darlings! Steam Cloud!"

Hiss. Psh.

Each of the remaining clone's hands slammed down into the water as she dropped to one knee. The water instantly superheated, sending out a billowing steam cloud from each of the clones. Wen's cold barely registered the temperature change, and it kept the cloud from completely consuming her.

However, Grayson disappeared, along with the rest of the cistern.

It was stepping into a fog bank. Wen's eyes immediately flicked to her left and right as she backed up. She wanted her back to a wall to reduce the avenues that Miss Brooke could attack.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sound came first. While the cistern had made the noise before, the difference was in the number. The occasional drops of water sped up, like a sprinkle before an oncoming storm.

Hiss.

A few drops of water hit Wen's skin and sizzled at the sudden temperature change. Wen gulped down a lump in her throat as her back hit the wall behind her. However, the attack she waited for did not come.

"So worried, aren't you, darling?"

Fwip. Crack.

Wen immediately threw her hand up, willing a dagger off toward the ceiling at the sound. However, no frozen body fell down, so she assumed she had missed. Her eyes scanned the fog around her, but she only saw wavering shadows.

"Who's worried?" Wen licked her lips. "You're the one that's hiding."

No response to that.

Splash.

Wen's eyes darted right, but she kept her knife in reserve. She needed a clear target, and the noise wasn't enough. She kept scanning the fog around her.

"Now, that's just rude."

Drip. Drip.

Left. Wen's gaze jumped there, but again she couldn't get a clear sight on anything beyond flickering shadows. Still, water dripped down her, and still it hissed in her ears.

"I think that will be enough now, darling." Wen jumped forward, flinging the knife behind her without thinking, and into the wall. "Watery Grave!"

Splash.

Water rose around Wen's ankles, and more drops fell from above, crashing into her and sticking to her body almost like glue. Wen tried to jump away, but her legs didn't respond.

Like glue, the water stuck to her, and it crawled across her skin, growing, even as her cold pushed it back. More drops fell from the ceiling, slamming into her shoulder and sending her to the ground.

"Snow Cloak."

Crack.

Wen's body temperature plummeted, and ice fell from her shoulders as her knives disappeared above her. A hood wrapped around her head as a long white cloak dropped from her shoulder. It covered her body, blocking more droplets from hitting her as the ice around her legs and the rest of her body froze.

Hiss.

More water fell on her, but the cloak blocked it. Wen curled forward, bending as much of her body as possible to keep it from the water droplets. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, reducing her body temperature further until the water on her completely froze.

It could no longer crawl across her body, which made her feet a single merged block of ice, with one block encasing each shoulder. Wen would need to break the ice before she continued the fight.

"Got both of you." Miss Brooke's voice seemed far away as Wen raised her feet and slammed them against the ground.

Thud. Crack.

Ice shards fell around her legs, but she barely noticed them. That just left the two blocks around her shoulders. Wen raised a hand and formed a knife. Using the blunt in, she slammed it against the ice.

Thud. Crack.

It took three tries, and as she did so, she paid attention to the fog around her. It was disappointing, and she spotted two figures out near the underground pool. Wen didn't move yet. Miss Brooke clearly thought she had been captured.

Splash.

"Too bad." Miss Brooke reached out, touching the floating orb that encased Grayson. "You may be a relic, but you have a certain ruggedness to you. Too bad you'll drown in there, darling."

Her eyes flicked over to Wen as Wen slammed the knife into her other shoulder.

"You must have frozen my water around you. A pity. Your cold was always your worst enemy in a fight, Cold Shot."

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

Miss Brooke approached, and Wen held her knife tight. She would have only one chance to hit Miss Brooke with the knife. The heels stopped just in front of her, and Miss Brooke bent over to look down on Wen's cloak.

"Rah!" Wen jumped up, stabbing with the ice knife right into Miss Brooke's abdomen.

Crack. Ktsh.

"No!" Miss Brooke screamed as the ice cracked over her body. In seconds, she was frozen solid, the ice spreading across her body until she was a white statue. Wen looked her in the eyes the entire way.

However, something was off. It had been too easy.

"Oh no." A bubbling laugh echoed across the water. "It looks like you got me, darling."

Wen looked out over the water, only to see a single figure standing in the clearing mist. Of course, she hadn't been in front of Wen. It had just been another for her clones.

"Now, why don't we continue this without the interference?"