The high-caliber bullet smashed into the corner of one of the wooden crates Weiss had been hiding behind a moment ago, sending splinters flying.
"That was a warning, Weiss Schnee, out of respect for your courage in coming here in person instead of hiding behind thugs and goons like the rest of your kind. Move again and the next one won't miss."
Weiss really hoped that she hadn't flinched at the shot. Her knees felt like they'd start shaking any minute: this wasn't some scenario she'd made up in her mind; she was face-to-face with an armed killer, staring down the barrel of her gun.
"The same goes for you two behind me, if you don't want your princess hurt," Miss Black snapped. Sky and Bronzewing froze in place; somehow she'd heard them advancing despite everything else that was going on. "Now start backing up, Miss Schnee."
She made a little shooing motion with the weird-looking gun she carried, no doubt one of Bell's creations. Weiss stood rooted to the spot, unable to move, even to think. Nothing was going like she'd imagined it.
"I mean it, Miss Schnee. Either get out of my way or I'll just step over your body."
Weiss's stomach lurched. Though the alley was ill-lit from the moonlight filtering down, the mouth of the gun barrel held a deeper darkness still, cold and hungry as if it would swallow her alive. Her foot began to move backwards, but as it did a sickening feeling surged through her, and she found something she was more scared of than the woman's bullets.
"No!" she cried. "You're a fine one to pose there and praise my courage, when you aren't even brave enough to stand and face me woman to woman! I will not shame myself by running away from you."
An angry shadow seemed to pass over the woman's face. Without her bandanna-mask, Weiss could tell that she was actually quite pretty, a clean, fresh-faced look that wasn't at all how she imagined a hardened thief and spy would appear.
"This isn't some Mensur duel, you pampered debutante! This is the real world! Why can't you understand that?" There was a frustrated tension in her voice that Weiss just couldn't place. It was almost like there was something personal about it, something driving her more than just the need to escape, but to make Weiss see...what? What was so important for her to make Weiss feel?
I guess that's just one more question I can ask her once she's in custody.
"And you're the one who doesn't seem to realize that you've been caught. Or haven't you noticed yet that you're outnumbered three to one and this alley is blocked at both ends?"
"But I have a gun. You want me alive, so your men's revolvers are still holstered, and you're carrying a sword."
"This sword is all that I'll need."
Bronzewing chortled. After all, he and Sky had seen Weiss in action with Myrtenaster and knew very well what the weapon was capable of doing. Miss Black, though, was momentarily confused by the apparent joke, and her hair-bow seemed to twitch. Then her expression hardened, as she seemed to reach some conclusion that she didn't like.
Weiss squeezed Myrtenaster's trigger, firing the azure Dust cartridge. The pale light of the released energy began to flow down the channels in the blade. Miss Black's arm began to come down, and Weiss flung herself aside, realizing that the woman intended to fire low, to wound her. She was only just in time; the shot went right through where she'd been standing, ricocheting away down the alley. Black immediately started correcting her aim, but Weiss was already whipping Myrtenaster out in a backhand arc, releasing the force of the Dust.
Ice.
It formed at once, a mounded trail of it almost three feet high and two across of jagged, glittering crystals, streaking out from Weiss's position towards Miss Black. The woman flipped out of the way, though, landing in a crouch with her empty palm flat on the ground.
"I see what you mean. But I like mine, too."
She snapped the weapon out at Weiss, extending like a whip on the metal mesh ribbon. Weiss was forced to vault over it, costing her her footing, then barely got Myrtenaster out of the way of a follow-up that would have wrapped around the blade and ripped the Dust rapier from her hand. The woman was good, but more than that, her fighting style was unpredictable; none of Weiss's training had prepared her to confront someone who used a combination blade and club on the end of an entangling whip.
As soon as Black had hurled the weapon though, and the gun was out of her hand, Sky and Bronzewing had rushed her. She sensed or heard them coming, though, and whipped her weapon around in a circle, away from Weiss and towards them, the blade whipping along the ground and making them stop. She took two springing steps towards them, leapt up over the whirling ribbon, and delivered a flying kick to Sky's chest that sent him sprawling back. She let her free arm come up, making it into a pivot point to redirect the ribbon, and even as she landed was bringing her weapon back around to club Bronzewing in the side of the head.
Weiss was so overwhelmed by the speed and fury of the assault that she wanted to just stare, dumbstruck, but she fought down the instinct and lashed out with another spray of ice. This time her aim was better, or the woman just had too many things to keep track of, but either way, Miss Black found herself sheathed up to her ankles in ice.
Got you!
"Now, are you more willing to talk?" Weiss asked.
Her victory was short-lived, though, as Black snapped her weapon back in towards her, caught it one-handed, leveled the gun barrel at her feet, and pulled the trigger six times sharply. Shattered chunks sprayed from the Dust-born ice, and she ripped her feet free, then ran towards Weiss, charging her without hesitation. The weapon seemed to unfold as she moved, the knife-edge and an extension of the gun barrel folding up into a saber-like blade that came whistling down at Weiss's head.
~X X X~
Steel rang off steel as the heiress barely got her rapier up in time to parry Blake's first savage, overhand swing of Gambol Shroud. Whatever that thing the Schnees' mad scientists had cooked up for her was, it was basically an artillery piece. Versatile as Gambol Shroud was, at long range it paled next to something that could blast off waves of ice at her (and who knew what else, if those colored chambers among the hand-guard contained multiple kinds of Dust?). At close range, though, she wouldn't be able to unleash such energy as easily. Blade to blade, they were on a more even footing.
Of course, there was another way to neutralize that edge, and that was if Blake had been willing to just shoot Weiss. Oh, the heiress had gotten out of the way once, but there was no way she could dodge a continuous effort to put her down; she couldn't keep up a fast enough counterfire to stop Blake. But despite her threats, that option was completely off the table.
Partly, it was self-preservation. There were good, sound reasons why she did not want to kill the heiress of a corporation so powerful it was basically a nation unto itself. Wars had been started for less, and the White Fang had no allies at all who might come to their aid in that situation. Frankly, if Blake killed Weiss Schnee, the only thing that made any sense was for her to kill herself and let Adam and the others make sure the body was never found and pray that cut any connection for the Schnees to follow. If they didn't do it for love of the girl, then at least for the affront to their power and territory they would leave no stone unturned in hunting down and obliterating not only Blake, but everyone associated with her.
Even more so if they learned just who the White Fang really were.
But that wasn't the point at hand. That cold, logical analysis was something Adam could do, and come to the same conclusion.
In truth, though, Blake had never gotten to the calculation, to the weighing of risks and benefits.
She just didn't want to kill Weiss Schnee.
The idea made her stomach twist.
Blake didn't understand it. The heiress's naivete should have infuriated her. On some level, it did, the ridiculous way she seemed to think of this as some kind of personal duel (though, as sword rang against sword, that seemed to be exactly how it had ended up). If Blake cared about things like pride and cowardice, would she be doing any of this at all? The idea that life-or-death struggles could be reduced to something with rules was a concept for the aristocrats, who sent out their pawns to die and only risked their own necks when some formal code deemed it appropriate.
But there was more to it than that. Where Blake saw naivete, she also saw innocence. That Weiss was standing up to her because she thought it was right. There was pride there, and courage. She did not hide behind her family's wealth and power; though she used it, it was to support her, not act for her. Blake was sure this was the first time anyone had ever pointed a weapon at her in anger; she'd seen the fear in Weiss's eyes. But Weiss had stood and faced her down instead of cowering, and Blake would always respect those who stood and fought in the face of fear and pain.
Even if they were a Schnee.
The irony of it all was, in the course of all of this emotion or logic or whatever, she'd found herself in exactly what she'd told Weiss this encounter wouldn't be: a one-on-one sword duel. And the fact of the matter was that the outcome of such a duel was by no means guaranteed. In fact, Blake realized, Weiss might even have the advantage.
It was a hard thing for her to accept, but it was the truth. In this scenario, Weiss's formal training, something she'd obviously taken seriously rather than just as a hobby, gave her the edge over Blake's more pragmatic and experience-driven style. Gambol Shroud's saber mode was a heavier weapon, but Weiss's rapier had obviously been forged through some experimental process to withstand the forces being exerted on it by its Dust use, so there was little chance Blake could break it.
Blake's advantages were all physical: she was bigger, stronger, faster, and had better night vision. Training countered these. The mental aspects were at best a wash; Weiss's inexperience and likely nervousness were mitigated by the duel scenario familiar to her, and neither one wanted their opponent dead so they were both equally hampered by that.
She'd lost control of the situation, was dancing to someone else's tune.
No!
She could not allow herself to be taken. She could not allow the Schnee Dust Company to learn who the White Fang were and what they were after. Lives were depending on her success. She could not afford to fail.
A quick thrust by the heiress drove the point home, as it were. The rapier slid along the outside of her right arm, just barely enough to break the skin and draw blood. The cut did no functional damage, but it was enough to remind her that if she let this battle remain a straight-up sword duel, she was going to lose.
She slashed with Gambol Shroud, and then when Weiss parried, Blake pulled the trigger.
One thing she'd realized quickly enough was that unlike the apache pistol, Gambol Shroud was always a functional firearm. The sword hilt and the pistol grip were one and the same. In gun mode, the barrel extension added stability and accuracy, but it still worked as a snubnose without it.
She hadn't been intending to hit Weiss and she didn't; the bullet shot past her, clipping her skirt and ricocheting away off the alley floor. It did its job, though, sharply startling Weiss and knocking the heiress out of her rhythm.
"This is the real world," Blake snapped, "not the salle." In Weiss's moment of indecision she beat the rapier aside and whipped her left foot up like a shot, slamming it into Weiss's ribcage. The heiress was too small to resist the force of the kick while off-balance; she went over easily and hit the ground hard.
Blake was about to step over Weiss and bolt for the alley mouth, but she saw another man there, lurking at the corner. Another Schnee spy, no doubt, waiting to ambush her—or worse, to follow her back home. Did they have both ends of the alley covered? Adam would have, if he'd been in Weiss's place.
Devil take it! Even if she got out of Weiss's trap she might be stepping right into another, bigger snare. She needed some other way of escape, some route they wouldn't be covering.
Up!
So often the human animal thought in two dimensions. But the closely-packed buildings weren't impenetrable walls amidst the maze of streets and alleys. If Blake could get to the rooftops she could go in virtually any direction, out of the way of anyone's ability to follow her from ground level. It was her best chance, and she took it at once, turning and running towards the fire escape, leaving Weiss Schnee lying behind her in the dirt.
~X X X~
She's getting away!
It had been going perfectly, better than Weiss could have possibly hoped. She'd forced Miss Black into a swordfight, one-on-one with no tricks, and she'd been winning, too—until the spy had made it plain that "no tricks" had only been Weiss's understanding of what was going on, not any kind of agreement.
She couldn't believe that Bell had gone ahead and sold Black that weapon, knowing that Weiss was after her. Playing both ends, the armorer was, and Weiss couldn't figure out if that meant he was admirable for protecting his clients or just a two-faced liar.
Don't worry about that now!
Weiss's side throbbed with pain; the kick had likely bruised her ribs. She could feel something wet on her cheek and realized that she'd scraped her face on the ground when she fell, reopening the wound below her eye. This was not happening again. She wouldn't allow it!
As Miss Black ran for the fire escape, Weiss found the catch that released Myrtenaster's cylinder, then spun the crimson Dust chamber beneath the firing mechanism and relocked it into place. She watched the woman spring for the bottom rung of the ladder and somehow grab on with one hand, pulling herself up. The woman's acrobatic agility was phenomenal, far beyond anything Weiss could manage, and she couldn't help but admire it.
That admiration didn't stop her, though. Weiss pulled Myrtenaster's trigger, suffusing the Dust rapier in a brilliant red glow, and then she hurled fire.
She'd aimed high, which proved to be a very good thing. An explosion detonated against the side of the building, obliterating the upper two stories of the fire escape entirely and shattering all the windows on that wall. Flaming chunks of lumber fell to the alley cobbles; had the building not been constructed of brick it probably would have been set alight. Weiss's heart jolted into her throat as she realized how close she'd come to causing a catastrophe.
Miss Black had been just mounting the stairs to the next story when the blast hit. She went flying back, calves hitting the platform railing and went over backwards, tumbling out of reach of any handhold. The drop was almost a dozen feet but she managed to go with her momentum, continuing through the tumbling fall so that she actually landed on her feet, dropping into a crouch and bracing herself with an empty hand. She must have felt the heat, because she reached up and ripped the bow out of her hair, tearing it aside before the fire that had sparked in it could move from it like a fuse to her hair and body.
Off in the distance, Weiss could hear the shrill wailing of police whistles. Somehow the gunshots hadn't dragged in official attention in this largely deserted commercial neighborhood, but the Dust explosion had been far too much to go unnoticed. She barely registered their meaning, though. She was too busy staring at Miss Black.
"W-what are you?"
The woman's remarkable agility and balance, the way she seemed to be able to see more than she ought to have in the dark, even the eerie amber eyes that gleamed like an animal's in the alley's gloom, they hadn't really sunk in as significant. They were just attributes, the things that made her competent and dangerous as a spy. But this was different. Concealed beneath the bow was a second set of ears, pointed and black-furred, perched atop her head like a cat's.
~X X X~
Blake had hoped that in the dimly lit alley, her ears would go unnoticed against her black hair. Obviously that wasn't the case. The look of stunned shock on Weiss's face made that plain even if her question hadn't. Her belly twisted at the sight of it. If Blake could provoke this kind of reaction, then what hope was there for the rest of White Fang?
The fact that it was a Schnee looking at her like that, of all people, pushed her over the edge into fury.
"What am I?" she roared out. "I am what you made me, Schnee!"
Some of the flames had touched off against paper and other debris, fires springing up. They cast their reddish-bronze light across the snow princess, staining her red, red with the blood shed by her family. She watched numbly as Blake marched towards her in measured steps, making to move to stand or raise the lethal rapier in her own defense. Blake kicked the weapon out of her hand, sending it skittering away, then leveled Gambol Shroud's barrel at her forehead.
The direct threat of the gun seemed to put life back into Weiss. The numbed look changed, her eyes seeming to frost over with resolve. The ornament had been knocked from her hair, leaving it to spill down loose over her shoulders.
"What is it that you want?" she asked.
"You're the ones who opened Pandora's box," Blake told her. "All we want is what's left inside."
The goon she'd knocked down before was rushing her, seizing his opportunity while he thought she was distracted talking, or maybe just trying to save his boss from what looked like it might be an impending execution. Blake half-turned and fired, dropping the long-haired thug with a bullet that tore through the meat of his thigh. He howled in pain, clutching the wound.
Blake turned back to Weiss, the fact that she'd just gunned down a man barely registering between the two women. Maybe that was as it ought to be; whomever the man was, whatever his hopes, his dreams, his fears, in this time and place he had reduced himself to nothing but an adjunct to Schnee power, little more than one of the automata she'd destroyed at the manor.
"We will have it," she said, "and neither you nor anyone else will stop us."
She whirled and flung Gambol Shroud, its ribbon trailing behind it, up and over the lip of the nearest roof edge. She tugged, making sure the spike had caught, then began to scale the wall. In only a few seconds, she was over the edge. As she'd thought, there was no one there waiting. In the next moment she was gone, vanishing into the night beyond any hope of being followed.
~X X X~
Strauss didn't have specific instructions for this kind of thing, but he was bright enough to understand that his bread definitely was buttered on the side of keeping Schnee business out of the way of the public. Gunshots, not to mention that firebomb the heiress had set off, were the kind of things that didn't have a good explanation. The best excuse was the one you didn't have to make.
"Miss Schnee, come on, we have to get out of here," he said, running up to her.
"What? Who are you?"
"I'm with company security. I work for Mr. Garnet."
Weiss sighed.
"Watching Bell's shop to see if Miss Black showed up. Of course he'd post a lookout."
"The police are on their way. We have to get you out of here. Are you all right? Can you get up?"
"I'm fine," she said. "Sky's been shot; he'll need a doctor, and I don't know about Bronzewing."
"I'll check on them, but you've got to go. Head down the alley. There aren't a lot of constables on patrol around here; they'll come from the main street side. Will your coach know where to pick you up?"
"I'll be fine," she repeated.
She pushed herself to her feet, then started looking around.
"What are you doing? You've got to go."
"My hair clip got knocked off. It's distinctive, and would be evidence—ah!" She reached down and plucked something from the ground, then went over to pick up her sword. At least Strauss didn't have to worry about her getting home safely; as long as she had that thing it would take a regiment of street toughs to hurt her. It was her reputation with fancy society that was at risk now, not her health.
"Go!" he hissed at her, and she did. She paused to look as she passed her two fallen men, then shook off the hesitation and kept on going. That was good. Maybe if Weiss and the company got clear of this fiasco without a scandal, it wouldn't cost Strauss his job. He was worrying a lot about keeping his job just then. It kept him from thinking too much about what he'd just seen.
Announcement: Belladonna Lilies will be going on hiatus during the month of June, so that I can take a little time to build back up my buffer of chapters. During the weeks that I would otherwise be posting chapters (6/14 and 6/28), I will instead put up additional chapters of Burning Gold (of which, well, I have a much larger buffer of extra chapters completed!). Belladonna Lilies will return on July 5th, at which time I'll resume my normal alternating-weekly posting schedule. Thanks for your understanding, and I hope that a double dose of Yang will tide you over!