Hurkah shook Roy’s hand. “Our chief is here. That is enough.”
Terra shook her head. “No, it isn’t. You won’t be forced to stand idly by anymore. This is your planet, and those are other orcs we’re fighting. This is your fight as much as anyone else’s, and we’re not going to treat you like a second-class race.”
Sarah chimed in. “Gnomes fought for their world. This isn’t some humans-are-going-to-save-the-realms bullshit. If you’re our allies, you’re on the same playing field as all of us. Just the way it should be.”
Hurkah looked taken aback by their words. “This was not what we had expected.” He cast a hesitant glance at the other former leaders before meeting Terra’s eyes. “We would be honored to sit at your table as equals.”
With that, they started planning for Grok’s attack.
Abby lay in a bed, with Persephone sitting by her side. Her whole body ached, but worse than that was her head. For the first time in a while, her mind was quiet. There were only her thoughts.
No, that’s not quite right, she thought. There’s someone else still here. Not Martin. Someone actually here. They just aren’t as loud as before.
She would have preferred to be paying attention to Persephone, to offer a word of comfort and let Persephone know that she was okay. But she couldn’t. She had to talk to the voice.
Are you still here?
But I’m not full of nanobots anymore. How are you still able to retain consciousness?
Talking about our intertwined lives?
How long ‘till we’re at a reasonable number of bots?
Might have to do with you trying to take over my body a couple of times.
Abby felt some of the tension in her muscles loosen. She was already feeling the effects of her nanobots returning. The newfound strength made sitting up much easier.
Persephone noticed Abby’s slight movement and perked up. “You’re awake!”
“Yeah, I’m awake. Feel like stomped-on cowshit, but better to feel than not, I guess.”
Persephone grabbed Abby’s hand. “And you’re not doing that weird thing you were doing before. Thank the goddesses.”
“What weird thing?”
“You kept referring to yourself as ‘we.’”
Abby avoided Persephone’s eyes, instead looking at her own hands, where she could see microscopic nanobots in the folds of her skin. “That… Yeah, I don’t know if that’s going to stay the same, but there are… I told you I would tell ya about the changes going on, so whatcha wanna know?”
Persephone’s hand split open, her tentacles, much smaller than usual, stretching out in front of her. “It doesn’t sound like what I experience. Me and the Melody, we aren’t in this together. We’re very separate. She needs something, and I need something. We hardly talk to each other. What’s it like for you?”
Abby screwed her eyes up at the ceiling as she considered the question. “Don’t quite know yet. Been different every couple of weeks. First, they tried to take over my body, but I didn’t hear from them until I started multiplying them in my body. Now they think I’m their creator or something. It’s kinda up to me if they live or die, I guess, but I don’t need them. Definitely want them, though.”
“Why? Why would you want something that makes you less human?”
Abby slipped her hand into Persephone’s tentacles as the nanobots rushed over her skin. “Because I’m capable of more. Even if I’m not human like I was, I want to keep on becoming whatever it is I am. Kinda sucks to admit it, but I’m more valuable like this than as just some smart kid off a farm from Bumfuck-Nowhere.”
Persephone’s tentacles reformed into fingers. “You’re still important, even without them. They said you were helping so much before you even got the nanobots. Not like me. You take away the Dark Melody, and I’m just—”
“A girl with the largest heart of anyone I’ve ever seen. Or maybe the girl who won three all-you-can-eat ramen challenges with me in Tokyo. Or maybe you’re just you, and that’s good enough. Who cares if we have sentient beings living within us?”
Abby smiled in the way one only can when they truly mean what they’ve said. Then she leaned back and closed her eyes. “How ‘bout you tell me one of those weird-ass drow stories until I get well enough to be all weird roboqueen-y.”
Persephone laughed as she stood up and kissed Abby’s head. “How about I get us some food first and see what’s going on out there? Then I’ll be back.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Anabelle woke up screaming, her body pulsing with mana. The room around her vibrated violently as she thrashed in her sheets, trying to pull away from the chains. She was going to kill whoever had tied her down. Then she remembered who it was: Grok. She could see the orc’s face floating in front of her.
The door to Anabelle’s room opened.
She released a blood-curling shriek and shot a jet of fire at the door.
There was a loud yelp, and Anabelle suddenly realized she wasn’t in Grok’s prison, and her arms weren’t chained.
Once the smoke cleared, Roy poked his head into the room. “Uh, if you didn’t want to see me, a simple no would have sufficed.”
Anabelle relaxed and drew the covers over herself. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a war to win?”
Roy walked through the door, holding a plate of orcish delights and a glass of wine in his hands. “I can put the war on hold for a bit. You need to eat.”
Anabelle glared at him. “I appreciate it, but you really can’t put the war on hold—”
“Shut up and take the food.”
Roy put the plate on Anabelle’s lap after she sat up. “How are you holding up?”
Anabelle poked the roasted mutton with a fork. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
Roy pulled up a chair and scooped his finger into a brown mush on the plate that tasted like burned yams. “The first time it happened to me, I didn’t talk for nearly three months, so you’re doing better than me. Took about six months before I could put a uniform back on, and that was just because I couldn’t walk.”
“What happened?”
“You know how I told you one day I’d tell you how I lost that testicle?”
Anabelle stared at Roy. He wasn’t smiling.
He shifted in his seat but didn’t take his eyes off Anabelle. “What happened to you?”
She took a bite of the mutton. Chewing hurt her jaw. “She tried to break me. All I can remember are the beatings. They just blended together, then she’d have me healed and start all over again. I…begged her to kill me. I…”
Anabelle leaned over, her body jerking as she fought back tears, gritting her teeth, repeating in her head over and over that she was going to kill Grok.
“I promised her anything she wanted. Anything, if she would just let me go. But that wasn’t what she wanted.”
“To microchip you and indoctrinate you?”
Rage filled Anabelle, and she felt hatred deep in her bones. For a moment, she was certain that all that existed was her hatred. “I don’t fucking know why she was doing any of it! She could have just killed me. She kept going on and on about…goddess be fucking damned! I…”
Anabelle leaned for
ward, grabbing her head, trying not to spiral out of control. She wanted to lash out at everything around her, tear it all to shreds, eviscerate the world.
“She wanted me to lose control. To take the Path of the Lost and lose myself completely.”
“What’s the Path of the Lost?”
A voice came from the doorway. “The forgotten Path of the Travelers, the most dangerous and feared one. But this isn’t the time to talk about theology.” It was Sarah, accompanied by Terra.
“We came to see how you were doing,” Terra said.
Anabelle stared at her food, poking it. “Don’t you guys have shit to be doing? I don’t need a cheerleading team in here.”
“Roy? Out,” Sarah ordered.
For a moment, Roy looked like he was about to say something. Instead, he stood and took Anabelle’s hand. “I’ll be back, but she’s right. I have a battle to plan.”
Roy breezed past Sarah and Terra and closed the door behind him. The two women approached the bed.
Terra reached out to hug Anabelle, but the elf recoiled. “I’m…” Anabelle muttered.
Terra waved away her apology. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to tell you that we were looking for you all along. I’m so sorry it took us so long, but we were looking. We never forgot about you.”
Anabelle nodded, her face stony and grim. “I never doubted that. We’re at war, and there’s a lot of shit going on. I understand.”
Terra reached over and hugged Anabelle maybe a bit too tightly for her wounded body.
At first, Anabelle resisted, then she leaned into the hug. “When I was trapped with her, being tortured, Grok said something…something I’ll never forget. ‘Lose yourself in pain. Forget who you were and focus only on who you want to be. Then and only then will you find true power.’”
Terra pulled away. “The orc bitch! If I ever see her, I swear I will rip her—”
Anabelle lifted a silencing hand. “I know you will, and I want you to know that I never lost myself in the pain. I never forgot who I was. I remembered myself. I remember you and the Dark Gate Angels. That is who I want to be. That is the source of my true power.”
It was Anabelle’s turn to hug Terra, embracing the human warrior with all her strength.
After a long moment, Sarah put her hand on Anabelle’s shoulder, indicating that it was time to let Terra go. “Terra, if you don’t mind, I would like you to leave, too.”
“Wait, what?”
Sarah’s eyes darkened. “Trust me, just leave. Now.”
Terra stood and took a step back. “Yeah, I probably should get back to planning too.” She left the room.
Sarah sat on Anabelle’s bed and pulled out a dagger. She held it loosely in her hand. “Take off your clothes and turn over.”
Anabelle glared at Sarah. “What do you think you are doing?”
“Nothing is going to compromise us. Cire doesn’t know what he’s looking for. I’ve dug enough chips out of flesh to know what I’m looking for. Would you do any different?”
Anabelle looked away for a moment, then sighed and turned over onto her stomach. “No, I wouldn’t.”
As Sarah ran the knife over every square inch of Anabelle’s back, she talked to the elf about the Path of the Lost and how it was fueled.
Anabelle went into a daze, listening to Sarah’s words. It was something akin to that of her teachers—the same tone of knowledge. Someone had trained Sarah in the Path. Was this what Grok had meant by “the human?”
“Turn over.”
Anabelle did as she was told, shivering slightly from the cold blade.
Sarah continued her search, explaining there was a certain abandon one could find in hatred. You could do things you weren’t normally capable of by using it, but once you gave in, it was difficult to pull you out. That was how you got lost.
Sarah sheathed her blade. “All right, you’re good.”
Anabelle pulled her blankets up to her neck. “I appreciate you taking care of your job.”
Sarah handed Anabelle the knife. “I’ve used this blade on anyone who has ever wronged me. Do with it as you think best.” She stood to leave. “There will be a time for comfort. Now is not that night. I love you, though. We all do, regardless of what you decide to do.” With that, the assassin left.
Anabelle sat up, holding the knife in her hand. It had a good weight, and the blade was sharp. It was a good weapon for revenge.
Chapter Eleven
The orcish war horn sounded before sunrise, yet it did not come from the free orcs. It echoed in the East toward the rising sun in the fashion of the old ones. Cire was the one who recognized it, and it was he who dragged Terra out of bed, along with Roy, and forced them out into the dark of the early predawn when the world was all blackness and silver.
There, out in that darkness, they found Grok standing beside Rasputina the lich, whose eyes glowed an evil green. Neither of the two was armed, and they stood waiting to be confronted.
Terra shook the last bit of sleep from her eyes and marched up the hill to where the pair stood.
Grok nodded at Terra and smiled. “Hm. You might be more orc than you seem.”
Terra jerked her thumb in Cire’s direction. “He keeps me on my toes. Guess you might be more orc than you put on too.”
Grok smiled that toothy, hateful grin of hers. “More orc than most. Orc enough to remember the ways of strength and of battle.”
Terra nodded. “You know, I heard what you said to Anabelle. That wise mumbo-jumbo of, ‘Lose yourself in pain. Forget who you were. Focus only on who you want to be. Then and only then will you find true power.’ Sounds like a lot of crap to relieve yourself of all responsibility. Forget your past. Forget who you are so you are free to become a psychopath.”
Grok smirked. “You do not understand the Path of—”
But before the orc could finish, Rasputina lifted a silencing hand. “What did you say, human?”
“I was just repeating the bullshit Grok said to Anabelle about the Path of the Lost or whatever hippie crap she’s into.”
Rasputina’s eyes narrowed as she mumbled the words, “‘Lose yourself in pain. Forget who you were. Focus only on who you want to be. Then and only then will you find true power.’ I have heard those words before, but I cannot recall where.”
“You’re old,” Terra offered. “You forget shit.”
Rasputina shook her head, but not in answer to Terra’s taunt. The lich was lost in thought. “Forget who you were. But I forget nothing. I cannot, and yet…” Then, as if waking from a dream, Rasputina growled, “How long are you two going to measure dicks? Can I get out of here now? I have more important matters to attend to. Memories to unlock.”
Terra didn’t know what Rasputina was talking about, not that it mattered. She was trying to size up the information, but it was difficult. What she was looking at in front of her didn’t make any sense. Every time they’d come across these two before, the lich and orc were dead set on killing Terra and everyone around them as fast as possible.
This formality was confusing.
Grok muttered under her breath before turning to Rasputina. “As long as you provide what you offered, you may leave.”
Rasputina popped off one of her fingers and passed it to Grok. “Finally. You mortals enjoy your war games. I’ll see you when you get interesting again.”
With that, Rasputina disappeared in a cloud of green dust. Grok remained. “I summon you to battle this morning just before the sun reaches its zenith. Rasputina has provided me an army that should match but not exceed your own in numbers.”
Roy finally broke and asked the question Terra wanted to know. “Okay, what in the ever-loving fuck is going on?”
Grok pressed her hand to her chest. “I have seen my people return to their former glory. It is inspiring. If anyone is to crush the orc horde, I want it to be me. And you have something that belongs to me.”
“The Dark One doesn’t know about this, does he?”
/> “The Dark One wages his wars, and I wage mine.”
Terra and Roy exchanged glances. “See you after breakfast,” Terra said with a wink before walking off.
The free orcs were ecstatic at the thought of a morning battle. They had risen, dined, and drunk in the time it took Terra to check in on Abby and Anabelle.
Abby was awake and up, talking quietly to Persephone beside the windowsill. When Terra explained the situation, Abby checked her nanobots and found that she was more than combat-ready. They joined the orcs in the dining hall to grab food and prepare for the day.
Cire explained to them what an orcish battle was, something quite different than what they’d seen before. The battle was over when the general fell. With the robust hardiness of orcs, it was not unheard of for battles to go on for days.
Next, Terra went to check on Anabelle. Sarah was sitting at Anabelle’s side as the elf slept. “How’s she doing?” Terra asked.
Sarah looked at Terra. “Against my better judgment, for the sake of her health and soul, I believe she shouldn’t be disturbed. On a practical level, Grok is stronger than any of us. Anabelle would be an extra body, but nothing else. It would be best for her to rest.”
With that, Sarah and Terra left the room. Once the door shut, Anabelle opened her eyes and stared into the darkness. “Grok…”
The sun was finally up, the orcs well-fed and ready for war. They stood atop a hill a few miles from the grand hall. Terra, Abby, Persephone, Sarah, Blackwell, and Naota headed the line, flanked by the former tribal leaders.
The orcs were garbed in their traditional war armor, a thing unseen in the nine realms for many years now. Their bodies were covered in paint and bone, their faces horrid masks of violence and war. When Terra saw them assembled, she understood why the horde had been a thing to fear.
Across from them on another hill stood Grok. She had no army but stood alone, gripping the lich’s detached finger. “We assemble this day for battle, one to finally put to rest this bitterness. Orcs will choose either strength or death.”
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