by Aaron Oster
“You got them both!” Ivaldi said, surprise clear in his voice. “And you’ve brought me some of the hydra’s blood, to boot!”
“Can you make the spear now or not?” Morgan asked.
“Oh, yes, I can make it,” he replied with a wave of his hand. “Oh, and don’t think I didn’t find those enchantments you were keeping from me. Very sneaky of the gods to hide an entire suit of armor in there. Don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself.”
“Yeah, sneaky,” Morgan replied, sinking down to the floor and stretching out. “Around how long should this take?”
“Oh, shouldn’t be more than a couple of days,” Ivaldi replied, already moving to begin stoking his forge. “Gonna need your help for this first part.”
“Right,” Morgan said, getting back to his feet as Ivaldi dropped the pair of gauntlets into a massive cauldron, then upended a jar of the purple acid into it.
“What are you gonna do?” Grace asked eagerly.
“Something that you’re gonna want to close your eyes for,” Morgan advised, stepping up to the cauldron.
The acid was bubbling and hissing, attempting to melt the gauntlets down but having no luck. The metal was strong, repelling any attempts by the potent concoction from doing anything at all. Another jar was upended, followed by another.
“Just tell me when,” Morgan said, holding his hand above the cauldron.
“Just a few more things,” Ivaldi said, moving over to the cauldron once again.
This time, he dropped a small pouch of glittering blue powder in, followed by a single bar of gleaming green metal. He poured more of the acid over this, then poured in another helping of the same powder.
“Mind bending down for a second?” Ivaldi asked.
“Why would I…ow!” Morgan yelled, more out of reflex than anything, as the dwarf yanked a clump of hair from his head.
“What the hell was that for?” he demanded, rubbing at the spot.
“Don’t need your blood because it’s already attuned to you,” Ivaldi said. “But we can’t have you losing something like this, so a little hair will go a long way.”
“If you say so,” Morgan muttered, watching as the smith dropped the hair into the now half-full cauldron.
The bubbling and hissing acid had almost completely covered the gauntlets by now and was colored a vibrant mix of blues and greens as it melted down the metal and powder. Still, the gauntlets remained unharmed, whole and resistant. Ivaldi dropped in a couple more ingredients, more silvery-blue powder, and more acid.
Only once the gauntlets were completely submerged did he add the last ingredient, placing the single scale over the whole lot and covering it up.
“Go on then,” he said, taking a couple of steps back.
“You sure this won’t reduce everything to ash?” Morgan asked, looking to the dwarf with a raised eyebrow.
“Boy, that cauldron can withstand the fiery breath of a dragon! A little sunlight won’t hurt it.”
Morgan simply shrugged, then stretched his hand out over the cauldron. It was daytime outside, so unleashing his attack wasn’t difficult at all. There was a blinding flash of light as his Sunblast lit up the room. Searing heat poured from his hand as the stored power of the sun was unleashed in a concentrated blast.
There was a loud hissing sound, followed by an explosion of steam. When the light faded, Morgan found himself looking at a cauldron filled with molten, glowing metal. True to Ivaldi’s word, the cauldron itself was completely unharmed.
“Excellent,” he said, trundling forward and examining the mixture. “Now get out. I’ll call you back when I need you to do that again. For now, just leave me alone.”
Morgan wasn’t about to argue, and judging by the way Grace had been trying to catch his eye since he’d come back, it was obvious she had a lot to tell him.
“Alright. I could use some rest. Grace,” he said, turning to leave the forge.
The young girl scurried after him, clearly eager to tell him of all she’d learned while he’d been gone. It was already getting pretty late in the day, their travels and excursion having eaten most of it away. Still, he hadn’t been gone all that long, so he was glad that she’d calmed down in their brief time apart.
“So,” Morgan said as he took a seat on the dwarf’s kitchen floor, the furniture far too small for him. “Tell me everything you’ve learned while I was away.”
***
Marcus paced back and forth in his office, feeling his nervousness growing with each passing hour. It was late. Well, that was not technically correct. It was early morning, though early enough that any sane person would be asleep right now. Not him, though. He’d been wide awake ever since his scouts had reported finding a trail, using the device gifted to him by the goddess.
When he’d heard how far they’d gotten, he was completely shocked. They were so far away that he’d never even have thought to send scouts to search there. Now, more than ever, he was grateful to have this Pantheon on their sides. If the humans had agents that were so quick and powerful, they’d need the extra help.
How the humans had managed to cover that much ground so quickly, and without the aid of teleportation or portals, was a mystery. He knew the human could fly, but that fast? And how had he even managed to get through the dwarven border? Their gates were heavily guarded at all times and was blocked with so many traps and wards that they would detect an errant fly.
In fact, had the goddess’s instrument not pointed them through the massive border wall, they’d have turned to look along the perimeter. The dwarves had let them through, supplementing with forces of their own and locking down the border even tighter. They were now on high alert and a warning message had already been sent to their King, Ragnar. He just hoped the dwarf wouldn’t be too mad that he’d screwed up this badly.
A low hum from his desk made the nervous gnome jump, then dash over to answer the incoming communication.
“What is it?” he asked, thumbing the small device open.
The head and shoulders of his lead scout, Amanda, appeared. She looked tired, but otherwise unharmed.
“What do you have to report?” Marcus asked, feeling trepidation rising up from within.
“We believe we’ve found them, sir,” the woman’s voice, somewhat distorted, came back. “We think they’re holed up inside Ivaldi’s forge. Should we move in to confirm?”
“No!” Marcus almost shouted. “Sorry,” he said, more calmly. “I want you to stay outside the perimeter and watch from there. If you get any closer, Ivaldi will be able to detect you, and if he’s working with those humans, they’ll be sent after you.”
“Sir, I don’t mean to question your orders, but surely our force can take them out. Even with the dwarf there, we shouldn’t have too much trouble.”
“No,” Marcus repeated, his voice hardening. “Ivaldi is too valuable to risk. He may be strange and perhaps even a traitor, but his craftsmanship is second to none. The dwarves might go so far as to start a war with us in retaliation, and if they attack, the elves will join them. The last thing we need now is a civil war, especially with the humans threatening to invade once again.”
Amanda’s shoulders firmed, and she gave him a crisp salute.
“Understood, sir. We will monitor and report.”
The communication cut off then, and Marcus breathed out a huge sigh of relief. This wasn’t over yet, and if the humans had subverted their continent’s greatest smith, they were in real trouble. The goddess needed to be informed of this, but first, he needed to contact Ragnar. Ivaldi was one of his subjects and since this was taking place in the Soaring Peaks, it was in the dwarf’s kingdom. He just hoped the dwarf king wouldn’t be too mad.
A quick communication later, and the gnome was slumped in his seat, a throbbing headache threatening to make him lose what little composure he had remaining. Ragnar had not been happy that his best smith was involved and had made sure that Marcus knew that he’d hold him personally responsible if Iv
aldi was killed. The prospect of a civil war was high, and he knew that if he didn’t handle this with care, they’d all die.
That was why he hesitated when it came time to call the goddess. He didn’t know why she wanted to know but had a feeling that she’d want to be involved somehow. That last thing he needed was a goddess striking Ivaldi’s forge from existence, just to destroy the humans within. He figured that breaking a promise to a goddess was far worse than angering a dwarven king, and between the two, Marcus knew which he’d rather have as an enemy.
“Found them so soon?” the goddess asked, appearing in his office as soon as he depressed the small device attached to the interior of the box that she’d given him.
“I received the report just a minute ago,” Marcus said, not wishing to divulge that he’d called someone else before her, but not willing to lie outright to a goddess.
“Excellent,” the goddess replied, twirling a lock of pink hair around her index finger and giving him a pleased smile.
Marcus had always found her to be quite strange looking. She was too thin for a dwarf, too broad-boned for an elf. She had rounded ears and eyes, like the gnomes, but was too tall and lacked their overall bone structure. She was definitely not a troll or beastman either. Her body was lithe like the elves, yet far too curvy for one of their race. Perhaps this was just what all gods looked like, though seeing as she was the only one he’d ever met, he didn’t exactly have much to go on.
“So,” she continued. “Tell me where.”
There was a definite edge of danger to her voice now, one that gave Marcus chills down to his very bones. He didn’t allow it to show, simply bowing at the waist and telling the goddess what she wanted to know. He didn’t dare ask for anything else or suggest that she spare the dwarven smith. It wasn’t his place to do so.
“You’ve proven to be faithful and loyal,” the goddess said. “Rest assured that I will not forget.”
Then, Marcus was alone in his office once more, wondering if Faeland was about to be plunged into civil war.
52
“…Damned gnome should never have been put in charge in the first place!”
Elyssa resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she listened to her Uncle Ragnar yelling and screaming obscenities over their communication. It was just past seven in the morning, and she’d been listening to him rant for over an hour about the incompetence of the gnomes. If one listened to the underlying message, something a lot more sinister would come to light, and Elyssa, contrary to her appearance, was extremely perceptive.
“Why don’t you recommend someone else be put in charge?” Elyssa asked, not for the first time that morning.
“I think I will!” Ragnar huffed. “You know who I think would make a great leader? I think…”
Elyssa tuned the dwarf out, her mind racing as she went over the implications. The humans had landed on the shores of the Wilderwood, then had somehow slipped pursuit, killed nearly a dozen beastmen, gotten through the dwarves’ border and into the Soaring Peaks, and were now, somehow, in the company of Ivaldi, the most well-known and respected smith of the continent.
Aside from the fact that Ivaldi’s death could mean civil war, she knew that there was no way the humans should have been able to get this far, so fast. It could only mean that they had a traitor in their midst, just as the humans had one in theirs. The only question was whether it had been Ivaldi who’d helped them in, or if the dwarf was just another victim in all this.
Regardless, this was such a gross show of negligence on Marcus’s part, that there was no chance he’d be keeping his position. Even now, Ragnar was sending reinforcements to Ivaldi’s smithy. The beastmen scouts were hanging back for now, and for good reason. Ragnar had basically threatened war if Ivaldi was killed, and they didn’t know the strengths of the humans.
Yet another bit of troubling news that Ragnar had let slip was that Breaker, the Elder Dragon World Beast, was apparently asleep beneath the mountain where Ivaldi’s smithy was located. Any sort of battle could wake the sleeping beast, and the last thing they needed right now was to have to try and drive a monster like that away.
On the other hand, the humans could simply be that good. It was possible that they’d circumvented the search parties, made it through the wall and to Ivaldi’s smithy, all without being detected. That would mean that they were far more formidable than they’d first been led to believe. A fight was inevitable at this point, that much, she knew. However, if the humans were that strong, she doubted any of the forces sent there would truly be enough to stop them.
She needed to be able to see this battle when it happened, and seeing as she had her uncle still ranting to her, it was the perfect opportunity to give him an idea.
“You know,” she said, cutting into her uncle’s rant. “If you managed to set up a live feed with one of your portable projectors, the other rulers will probably listen to you about replacing Marcus.”
Elyssa was careful to deliver this statement while projecting an air of complete disinterest, staring down her nails the entire time, as though checking them for chips. The projection of Ragnar started, and she saw his face scrunch up for a moment.
“That’s…actually a good idea!” Ragnar boomed, a wide grin spreading over his face.
“Is it?” Elyssa asked with a loud sigh.
“Yes! A great idea, in fact!” Ragnar continued, all anger over Marcus seemingly forgotten. “I can have one of my scouts set up a live feed, and when the fighting begins, we can all see what these humans can do! I’ll have the channels sent to all the rulers so they can watch it while it happens. This way, if they screw up and Ivaldi is killed, we’ll have all the proof we need to enact revenge!”
“Whatever you say,” Elyssa said with a sigh. “Can I go now? I’m bored.”
“Yes, yes, I’ll let you go,” Ragnar said distractedly. “I’ll send the channel once it’s all set up.”
Elyssa disconnected the communication then, without bothering to say goodbye. Gilderon was in the room with her, so she resisted the urge to smile at a plan well-executed. She wouldn’t be able to feign disinterest for long once the fight started, but she was sure that anyone, even a bratty queen, would be excited about that. Now, she’d be able to see if the humans were really that strong, or if, as she feared, there was a traitor feeding them information. Either way, she would be finding out soon.
***
Gwendolyn appeared in the warehouse, feeling a small sense of relief that the mortal Marcus had contacted her. It was hard to constantly be playing the role of an all-powerful goddess, but she was sure her acting was holding up so far. She knew she had the power to back it up, but it was still hard to rectify, even after having it for over two years. It had been hard, coming back in that dark void, only to be told that they were now effectively owned by Chaos.
They had to do what he told them, or they would be killed. Apparently, they were already supposed to have died over fifty-thousand years ago, but Chaos had saved them. There had only been four of them, and then they’d discovered what had happened to the rest. The others had been taken by Order, the other half of the Author, and enslaved as well for their meddling with portals and other worlds.
That was why, when they’d been sent down here for the first time, they’d contacted Herald. He’d been all too eager to help them, having lived under the thumb of Order all these years and being forced to follow his rules. They’d found out that Sammy was dead, and that Gold was basically Order’s puppet. The only one they could save was Loquin, but she was having a hard time adjusting.
Apparently, she’d been in it way deeper than Herald, and was the goddess of another planet. Herald had refused to rule anything more than a single kingdom, and because of that, the Author’s hold over him was far weaker. Right now, it was all they could do to keep Loquin in one piece. In her mind, it was all the fault of the Author — both sides, in fact! Even as they worked to bring Chaos into this world, they desperately searched for some way to free t
hemselves. So far, they’d been coming up short.
It was of some small comfort that the human spies had been found. Gwendolyn intended to go pay them a visit to take out some of her frustrations. From what Herald had said, one of them was supposed to be quite strong and had even fought toe to toe with Sammy for a bit. It was still unclear as to who was responsible for his death, but Herald was pretty sure it had been Gold’s doing. How he’d gotten away with it was anyone’s guess.
“Looks like we’ve found our spies,” Gwendolyn said as she entered the main living area.
Sarah and Katherine were still playing videogames, while Morgan lounged back reading a book. None of them seemed to be taking this seriously enough, and it really annoyed her.
“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” she asked, raising her voice.
“Yeah, we heard you,” Sarah said, half a piece of licorice poking from the corner of her mouth. “Why should we care about some random humans? Let the races down there take care of them.”
“Did you forget what Herald said about this particular human?” Gwendolyn asked, feeling her annoyance growing.
“Come on, he had to be exaggerating,” Katherine said, joining the conversation. “There’s no way a regular human can be that strong.”
“Do you really think Herald is stupid?” Gwendolyn snapped.
“No, Gwen, we don’t think he’s stupid,” Morgan said with a sigh, placing his book down. “But this shouldn’t be something we need to worry about. From what I understand, Samuel was greatly weakened at the time of their battle. So much so, that a regular mortal was able to damage him. Besides, I get the feeling that he isn’t telling us the whole story.”
“He can’t, in case you’ve forgotten,” Gwendolyn shot back. “He said so himself.”
“Oh, yeah,” Sarah said, eyes still trained on the screen. “Something about rules and not divulging secrets.”
“That’s why he warned us,” Gwendolyn said. “Because while he can’t do anything about it, we can!”
