Luther grabbed both of the woman's arms and pulled them back until both her shoulders lifted, as if wanting to break that slender body. His hips kept pressing hard into that tight opening without giving a single pause.
Jacker said nothing. He knew Luther was not mourning the victim. Luther was mourning the primordial Oar that should have been his, a rare creature that was nearly impossible to find let alone track, and now it was gone.
"I'm sorry, my Lord," Jacker said finally. "That abysswalker was too savage. Neither I nor any of my men were able to hold it."
"So that monster is free right now?"
"Yes, my Lord."
Luther growled, and for the first time his expression visibly changed, showing the irritation he was trying to hold back on his face. The woman's screaming echoed through Luther's room without him caring. Jacker could only stand stiff where he was.
"Do you know what that means, Jacker?" Luther did not wait for an answer. "It means all of humanity is in danger."
Jacker opened his mouth to reply, but Luther had already continued. "Spread the poster and information to the entire Aegis network. That abysswalker must be captured, dead or alive."
"Understood, my Lord."
Luther then moved his hand, gripping the hair of the woman before him and pulling it upward until the woman's face lifted and turned directly toward the projection.
Jacker's eyes went wide.
That face was a mess, her hair disheveled, her eyes wet, but its structure was still far too clear to be mistaken. A face he usually saw from behind a high-level meeting table, a face that had always sat in a chair with authority nearly equal to Luther himself.
"Clean up this problem, Jacker." Luther released her hair and the woman fell back down. "Quickly."
The holographic screen went dark.
Jacker stood alone in that windowless room, his eyes still fixed on the empty point in the air where Luther's projection had just stood. His hands were no longer clenched, just hanging at his sides, not moving.
At the Aegis headquarters, an operator sat in front of a screen with fingers moving quickly across the keyboard. Data was sent across the entire Aegis network within minutes, a name, a face, a last known location, and a single number at the bottom of the form that made several other operators pause briefly when they read it.
Printers at various Aegis posts printed the same sheet. At a small post on the border of the Midreach region, a man took the sheet from the printer, read it briefly, then pinned it to the notice board without any particular expression.
At a larger post in the city of Fernholt, two hunters who were drinking coffee stepped closer to the screen when the notification came in, one of them let out a low whistle when he saw the number.
At a roadside stall on the outskirts of Duskwall, a solitary hunter who was having dinner glanced at his phone screen, read the name twice, then continued eating.
Posters were printed for cities not yet reached by the network, sent by fast courier to remote posts in the Midreach region and surrounding areas.
At the top of every sheet, beneath the image of Silver Ash's face, two lines were printed that needed no further explanation.
Dead or alive. 3,000 Virel.
***
The eastern road of Blackridge was wider than the market road, and busier. Stalls crowded both sides, the sounds of bargaining mixed with the noise of carts pushed over cobbled streets. Ash walked through all of it without slowing his pace, and Shiva followed behind him with lighter steps.
"So that purple blood of yours," said Shiva, "what caused it?"
"Don't know."
"Don't know, or don't want to answer?"
Ash did not answer. Shiva took that as an answer.
"Fine." Shiva jumped over a small puddle on the pavement. "Then where are you from?"
"Pinedale."
"Where is that? Is it far?" Shiva stared at Ash's back for a moment. "Did you walk from there?"
"More or less."
"More or less, more or less what?"
Ash did not answer again. Shiva let out a short breath but did not stop asking.
"That regeneration of yours, has it been long?"
"Long enough."
"Is it genetic, or because of something?"
Ash turned briefly toward Shiva, looked at him with an unchanged expression, then turned his gaze forward again. Shiva understood that look and chose a different question.
"What is your purpose in going to Ironclad?"
This time Ash truly did not answer. Not because he was ignoring, but because his eyes had already moved elsewhere.
On the left side of the road, a large-bodied businessman stood in front of his warehouse door, his hand raised and one finger pointing toward a porter who stood with his head slightly bowed. His words were loud and there was clearly no intention to keep his voice down.
"Watch your wheel, that cart's cargo is worth more than you, you know!"
The porter did not answer, his expression cold with suppressed irritation.
A few steps further, two workers pushed a cart loaded with goods up a small slope, their sweat already soaking through the backs of their shirts, and a foreman on the side of the road shouted for them to be careful with the incline of that small slope.
Ash observed all of it as he walked, his eyes moving from one point to another.
Shiva slowed his steps slightly, then looked in the same direction as Ash. "Do you understand now why I steal from people like them?"
Ash did not answer.
"That is how they treat the people beneath them." Shiva matched his steps with Ash. "Every day, not just when someone is watching."
Ash glanced toward him. "What do you mean?"
***