Eric Linnaeus | Book 3 | Chapter 5 - Tricks, Lies, and Sleight of Hand (Patreon)

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𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕃𝕚𝕖𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕊𝕝𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕠𝕗 ℍ𝕒𝕟𝕕ʙʀɪɢᴇᴛᴛᴀ ʟɪɴɴæᴜs: ᴀᴘʀɪʟ, 𝟷𝟿𝟸𝟽.

─── .✦········· ───

“I hate this game,” Eiríkr muttered, pouting as he sat back with his arms folded, and I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Oh? Why’s that?” I asked, subtly covering my smile. Of course, I already knew the answer: he hated losing.

“Because you always cheat!” he exclaimed.

I feigned a gasp of shock, “I do not!”

“You do so!”

“Oh yeah? Prove it~”

Eiríkr didn’t justify my teasing with a response; instead, he glowered up at me with malice, and I couldn’t help but laugh in earnest. My baby cousin was the equivalent of a human six-year-old and perhaps the least intimidating of us all. He looked exactly like his father. His eyes were sapphire blue with long lashes, and his hair framed his face neatly, giving him an angelic quality so that even his attempted death glare was useless.

“Stop laughing at me!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” I wasn’t sorry at all.

His expression softened, and he unfolded his arms, “…Can you show me how you do it?” he asked shyly.

“Mhmm~ But you must watch very carefully, you understand?”

He leaned in close with wide eyes, “Yes!”

“Watch carefully then,” I mused.

With him watching intently, I slowed the actions down. It was only sleight of hand to take off two tokens at once, and his gaze tracked every movement. I think he may have even been holding his breath with concentration, so when I disappeared the tokens entirely, he exhaled in annoyance.

“You’re supposed to show me what you’re doing!”

I couldn’t resist; his concentration made it easy, “I did show you! It’s not my fault you weren’t watching closely enough.”

Eiríkr scowled, and I smiled, reaching past him to reappear the missing tokens as if they came from his ear. “You’re using a spell, aren’t you?” he demanded.

“Not at all; it’s simple misdirection and sleight of hand,” I assured him, but his frown held up, “I promise!”

“Do you?”

“Of course! Would I lie to you?”

“Yes. I think you would.” He wasn’t wrong, and I laughed so hard my eyes watered, “Stop it! It’s not funny!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll show you how to do it properly, I promise.”

Our games were less about skill or strategy, and more about cheating and lying. Those were far more essential skills for him to have than honesty and fairness. Eiríkr was the youngest in our clan and my favorite. But he was an easily led child, eager to please and determined to succeed.

“Why do you always try to trick me?” he complained quietly.

“Mmm~ because you need to learn. I want you to be the best liar I’ve ever seen.”

“But why?”

“Because the truth is a dangerous thing, and you must be extremely careful about whom you trust. Giving over your honesty to someone is the most vulnerable thing you can do. Never let anyone take away your ability to lie.”

“…What if you get something just as valuable in return?”

“Nothing is more valuable than dishonesty.”

“Well, what if you don’t want to lie to someone?”

“Even if you choose not to lie, silence can be just as powerful.

Eiríkr thought before speaking again, “I don’t want to lie to you…”

I knew he meant it, and I pulled a face. I appreciated that, though it also concerned me. I worried that he was too gentle for our family. He was too sweet; he would probably just hand over every ounce of honesty he had to anyone who asked. “Well, I want you to lie to me all the time, so much that I can’t tell any different. No one can hurt you if you don’t let anyone know anything about you.”

“What if you tell someone a little bit of the truth, and a little bit not?”

“That’s a good way to get yourself in trouble. It’s better just to lie about everything.”

He didn’t seem happy with that, and I sighed; it would be difficult to teach him. Our species isn’t kind. We don’t ordinarily have a moral alignment that’s worth much. Of course, there are a few exceptions in every generation. But they don’t usually last long, and I would have to give Eiríkr special attention to ensure he didn’t succumb to such weakness.

In general, we live alongside humans relatively well. So long as we don’t get bored, and they don’t get too bold. But since I had found Eiríkr playing in the woods with a human child, I had made sure to keep him closer. I didn’t tell the others; he would be in trouble for the interaction, and I would simply hate to see him punished. Yet, I also wouldn’t permit it to happen again. He wouldn’t be allowed out of my sight for quite some time.

We were a large clan; I myself was one of ten children, and my father was one of five. Eiríkr didn’t have siblings because Mercury was only interested in having one son, but he had countless cousins. Our families were closer than usual, and most days I would be the one to tend to the young ones, teaching them spells and tricks.

Eiríkr was quite skilled at spellwriting, which pleased his father, while some were hopeless. Kári, in particular, was entirely useless at it. I believe he had some trouble reading the symbols, and no amount of tutoring seemed to help him. Not that it mattered; we are an old species gifted with many talents. Death, fertility, weather—our magic is ancient and deep. Few can surpass us.

Of course, that is not to say each individual excels at every talent. As in all things, some are better at certain aspects than others. For example, my aptitude is for death, like Eiríkr’s parents, and I allow it to consume me wholly. The headrush I get feeling the life energy leaving another creature is unmatched, and the power is intoxicating.

Revenanting is easy for me, and I can induce death if I so choose. I could touch the belly of a pregnant woman and her unborn child would perish or walk over flowers and wilt them. I rather enjoy my talent; I learned from the best, and it’s not all that common to be as good at it as I am. Although anyone in my family can do it, it’s much more difficult for them. Similarly, controlling weather patterns is too complicated for me. I’m lucky if I can make it rain when I intend it to.

That’s not to say I cannot influence the weather; it simply takes more concentration. It’s the same with any of our abilities. We all have passive and active attributes, although perhaps the most noticeable passive trait is our charm: a characteristic linked to fertility where others are inexplicably drawn to us, especially so if one has the active talent for fertility.

Likewise, if emotions are tangled, the weather may become unpleasant, and if your affinity is for death, the life inside others will call to you. Passive traits take effort to turn off, while active abilities take effort to use. Our talents are inherited, and whatever our strongest quality is will make at least one other ability more difficult, although we are trained in all regardless.

As I watched Eiríkr, I wondered which trait he would excel in. It would please Mercury if his son’s talents aligned with his own, but thus far, the boy has shown little sway to any of them. That’s not unusual for his age, and his parents are both exceptional. So I expect we’ll see his magic come in early, and once he revenants, it will develop in earnest.

I was distracted, daydreaming, when my aunt Venere approached us, and I didn’t notice her until she spoke. Although I showed no outward sign that she had startled me.

“Bridgett,” she stated my common name as if it were an insult.

“What is it that you want, Venus?” I returned disrespectfully.

She wasn’t all that much older than I, and her talent was most definitely fertility; pleasure radiated off her in nauseating waves. To others, I’m sure she was alluring. Like us all, her eyes were blue and her hair dark. But to me, her charm was like poison, and I hated it. I could feel it willing me to like her presence, and I refused to do so.

“When will your uncle and father return?” she demanded.

“When will the autumn come? When will the moon next be full?” I replied with an exasperated sigh.

“I didn’t come to hear your whimsical trickeries.”

“You asked a stupid question. They will return when the job has been completed.”

Her lip curled in distaste; she disapproved. You see, although our family is large, it is divided very clearly into two halves. It’s only for the sake of politeness that we pretend to get along. Venere, like my other half-relatives, believe in traditionalism. It is their opinion that we should remain as our ancestors were.

She would have us use our abilities to guide seafaring men to their destinations for all eternity without reward: manipulating vicious storms away from fragile vessels, facing down sea serpents, and servicing lonely men on long voyages? I can think of nothing more mundane. My father, uncle, and aunt all prefer a more… rewarding occupation. We are gods and deserve to be treated as such. We will help any who pray to us, so long as their worship is true, and we won’t be disrespected like we were in Tesoro.

Venere glared with malice for a long moment before her focus shifted to Eiríkr. “Would you like to come play with my girls?” she asked him more softly.

“He does not,” I answered for him as he was about to respond.

The child looked disappointed, if not unsure, and I was confident that was why Venere was really here. She wanted to sway him to their side of the family against his own mother and father. In part, that was why I was here. Not because the young ones needed particular care, but because the other side would try to tempt our children from us. I could very well have joined our parents and older siblings on their latest job. I’m old enough to do so; but it was more important that I watch over Eiríkr and the others instead.

Venere scowled, and a small breath of wind swirled in annoyance around her; she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “What you’re doing is breaking laws-” she announced at last.

“Oooh, breaking laws, are we?” I cut her off mid-sentence and taunted her with mock concern, “Well, I surely do hope we won’t be punished for it!”

“Your side of the family will get us all in trouble!”

I scoffed, “Please. We have broken no laws. None survived, and the town is gone. Besides, didn’t you like our new statue?”

It had taken some doing to get the statue back to our village, but it now sat proudly in the town square. Mercurius (Mercury) was the one who suggested we bring it home, given that it was a representation of our ‘traditional’ ancestry. He thought it would serve well to antagonize his half-sisters, and I couldn’t agree more. The look of displeasure on Venere’s face was well worth the effort.

“You’ll mess up one day. Just one time, someone will survive, and you will bring down the wrath of them on us.”

I snorted, “No one survives us, and you believe too much in the legends of old.”

“And you forget the lessons of our ancestors.”

“Our ancestors won the fight.”

“They did not. They only appeased them with hostages and were assigned watchers.”

“They are all dead. They destroyed themselves long ago.”

“If you believe that, then why not use their name?” Venere countered.

I hissed in annoyance. It was true that I didn’t believe any of Them survived. But I also didn’t want to risk somehow invoking the Valkyries by speaking their name aloud. “We break no laws. No witnesses are left,” I repeated bluntly.

“I hope for your own sake that you’re correct,” she spat back before turning away.

As she left, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table and watching her go with my eyes only. She was paranoid, I thought, unconcerned. Long ago, all the ancient species agreed upon a set of rules regarding human interactions. Namely, any actions taken must not in any way incur or provoke humans en masse, for although they are not gifted or strong, they are numerous and immune to many metals.

Still, destroying a few towns was hardly a crime. None lived to talk about it, and exposure risk was low. We know how to make obliteration look ‘natural’. Venere’s side of the family are just weak; they fear us. I wonder if she could sense that we planned to kill them all? Their constant whining was annoying, and we were far past their way of life now. We were better, stronger, and our plans were so much bigger than they could even imagine.

“Umm… Brigetta…” Eiríkr’s soft voice called my attention.

“What is it?” I asked curiously. He looked somewhat nervous, like he was about to confess to stealing something, again.

“If… maybe… one of the humans did survive? How bad would it be?”

That gave me pause. Something about the way he said it stirred a deep anxiety, “Well, it wouldn’t be good. Why do you ask?”

“N-No reason,” he averted his gaze, and I knew immediately.

“Eiríkr. You look at me and tell me you did not save that human boy.”

“I didn’t…” he mumbled the lie poorly, and my blood turned to ice.

Without thinking, I grabbed his face, holding it too tight between my fingers so that he winced in pain and tears filled his lower lashes, “Say it again. Over and over until the words sound true,” I hissed.

“You’re hurting me,” he whimpered, trying to push me off.

“Say you didn’t do it! Swear it on the lives of your mother and father!”

“I didn’t! I swear it!” He was at least more convincing that time, and I let him go.

“Good…” I murmured, pulling him into a hug apologetically as he began to cry in earnest. I was too rough with him.

“I-I’m sorry, I just didn’t want him to die-”

“Quiet. You are never to speak of it. Not to anyone. Do you understand?”

Eiríkr nodded, and I held him tighter. He had no concept of how severe it was to spare even one life. If that human child were to tell any adult humans, and they believed him, that would break the laws, and we would all face the consequences. Moreover, if our parents found out, his punishment wouldn’t be anything less than torture.

─── .✦········· ───

In the weeks that followed, I, of course, tried to find that little human pest and exterminate him. But it seemed Eiríkr had hidden him well. I suspect he took the boy to the Black Hole, and that would be impossible to find since it moves. Reluctantly, I gave up, and nothing seemed to happen, so I assumed it was fine. The child must have kept his experiences to himself.

When my father, Silvius, and the others returned, I was glad to see them. Watching over the young ones was draining, and I longed for violence. “Brigetta!” Karyna called my name as she ran toward me.

I hardly had the time to answer her before she was on me, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me fiercely. She tasted like poison, bitter and unpleasant, while at the same time, it was exhilarating—that was her charm, and I hated it. Her aptitude was for fertility, and I couldn’t stop myself from kissing her in return, no matter my thoughts about it. Finally, she let go, and I could speak.

“You’re disgusting,” I complained half-heartedly, and she flashed a devilish grin as I pushed her away.

“You love it~” She purred.

“Save it for your husband.”

She rolled her eyes, “Where’s our cutie little Eiríkr? I want to say hi!”

“He’s upstairs with Kári.”

“Perfect!” she chimed, moving past me without a second thought. Karyna was always high-energy, even when we were children. Kári was one of her younger brothers, and he was far less flamboyant, so I could already imagine the look of pure agony on his face when he was subjected to her affections.

“She can’t help herself,” my brother sighed as he approached more sedately. Of all our family, Hrafn (or Raven, if I were to use his common name) was the one who was as calm as he was giant. Standing at over six feet tall, it was an ironic turn of events that his attribute was also fertility, although he suffered for it.

It’s easier for women to have that talent; for him, it mostly means he has to be careful, or he’ll end up with hundreds of children to care for. As such most of the time, he resists it and, thankfully, did not greet me with more than a peck on the cheek.

“How did it all go?” I asked, curious.

“Well. Father and Uncle are pleased.”

“Good~ Where are Katla and Mother?”

“They took a detour; it seems our aunt wasn’t satisfied. We passed a small township along the way, and I think they intend to destroy it.”

I smiled knowingly, “And they didn’t take me?” I complained. I knew what it was to feel the urge to kill things and was rueful that they should go without me. Eiríkr’s mother, Katla, was the favorite of my aunts, and I would look forward to her return.

With almost the entirety of the family back in the village, the dynamics changed. Where those like Venere would walk about the streets freely, they now avoided us, and distinct boundaries formed. It wouldn’t be long now, I thought with pleasure. They outnumbered us, but if given half the chance, it was Venere, and her snotty little children, that I would personally see to. I could hardly bring myself to call them my half-cousins.

My mother and aunt returned in the following days, and a meeting was called. It was to decide when we would eliminate the other side, and we were all to attend. Only the children would not, as they were put to bed well beforehand.

“It has to be taken care of all at once,” Mercurius commented calmly. He sat casually at one end of the table with one leg folded over the other and a half-filled glass of alcohol in his hand, which he swirled lazily.

“Yes. But it is our father who poses the greatest threat,” my father responded.

“Would you like to do the honors then, Brother?”

“No, I’m well aware you would prefer to do it.”

Mercurius smiled, pushing the hair back from his face as his eyes flashed, “Indeed I would,” he agreed with a tight smile that showed his canine teeth.

“Then it’s settled. You and your wife will deal with our parents, while Jóra and I will handle our half-siblings.”

The plan was simplistic. If we attacked everyone at once, there would be no way for them to help one another. All my siblings and cousins would handle our other half-cousins, and our parents would face their half-siblings and parents. The only problem was that we were outnumbered in a way that would make it difficult.

“Have we thought of a way to overcome their numbers?” Hrafn asked aloud, echoing my thoughts.

“We have,” Katla smiled, draping herself over Mercury’s shoulders as she spoke, “If we had more who were able to fight, it would be easier.”

“What do you suggest?” my father asked calmly.

“We will revenant the young ones early. That way, they won’t miss out on the fun~” she purred.

It took the room a moment to understand. You see, death means very little to our kind. Dying is what activates our magic, and the time directly after we return is when we are at our most potent. Usually, there is a ceremony to be held when our children reach the age of thirteen, in which they are killed to revenant for the first time. But none of our young ones were of that age yet. Kári was the closest at eleven, but Eiríkr was the youngest at six.

“Is that wise?” I asked quietly.

There was a reason we didn’t kill the children at any random point in their lives. Thirteen is the age at which our magic begins to develop. Returning helps this process… But if done too early, there is a significant chance that they may not have enough magic in them yet to revive at all. So there was a high likelihood that by killing them now, as young as they were, they might simply die.

Katla shrugged, “If they’re strong enough, they’ll return. If they don’t, then they’re at least no longer burdens.”

“But Eiríkr is-”

“He is my son, and he will be fine,” Mercury spoke over me, and I fell silent. It wasn’t my place to speak out against him.

“Don’t tell me you are concerned, Brigetta?” My aunt inquired, bemused, as she moved over to me and placed her hands on my shoulders.

“No, I was merely surprised,” I lied calmly, “I would never have thought to do it.”

“It’s okay; you’re only young. You’re not expected to think as far ahead as adults do.”

“Yes. Thank you for explaining it.”

She chuckled softly in my ear before moving back, and I shuddered. I hadn’t seen Eiríkr use any magic yet. I wasn’t sure it had even begun to develop in him, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

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