by Cale Plamann
Micah shook his head helplessly.
“Well, that explains why the godawful drinking game didn’t work,” she said, almost to herself.
Micah cocked his head in an unspoken question, prompting her to continue speaking.
“That time Drekt gave us the juushk” —a brief, sour expression flitted across her face—"I figured that you were just shy and I hoped that a little liquid courage would push you to make a move. Unfortunately, we just ended up singing barroom ditties and earning skull-rending hangovers.”
“Gods.” Micah took a drink before setting his mug down and running a hand through his hair. “If I’d known, I would have said something. I just always thought you saw me as a friend, with all of the dirty jokes and teasing me.”
“Well.” She leaned toward Micah, her lips filling his vision. Almost absently, he noticed his Adam's apple bobbing as her face approached his. “I’m not leaving things up to chance and interpretation this time.”
12
Halcyon Days
“Why in the name of the Sixteen am I doing this again?” Micah hissed at Jo, his hands tightly gripping the rope tied around her waist.
She grinned up at him, wind whipping through her hair as she prepared to descend down the side of the mountain. Behind her, the early dawn light barely illuminated the crevice that Micah was in, bracing himself against a rock.
“Mostly because you enjoyed spending five hours climbing a rock face while staring up at my ass,” Jo giggled back at him. “Also because you agree that hatching a cliff eagle egg and raising the chick as a pet would be super fun.”
“I’m not sure about fun; raising a monster sounds like a lot of work to me,” Micah grumbled, setting himself so Jo could use the rope he held to belay herself down the mountainside.
It wasn’t a sheer surface; more in the range of a sixty-degree angle. Technically, Jo could handle the incline on her own, but it would be much safer for everyone if someone was on hand to provide a safety net just in case she were to fall.
That was the real reason he was here. Every minute with Jo was more vibrant. He just felt alive and present in a way that he didn’t normally. That said, she would take risks. By the Sixteen, did she take risks. The bags under his eyes spoke to the unnecessary chances she took, dragging Micah along with her.
“You didn’t deny that you agreed to come along in order to peek at my butt.” Jo winked at him.
“You do have a fantastic butt,” Micah agreed dutifully. “It was a bit hard to see given that you woke me up around midnight and made me climb a mountain in the dark, but I’m sure that it would have been breathtaking if I actually could have caught a glimpse of it.”
“Maybe afterward.” Jo grinned as she glanced down the incline toward the nest beneath them. “The mother eagle has left, and we don’t have much time.”
Micah grunted as the rope pulled against his hands. Almost immediately, he realized his mistake as the rope fibers bit into his tender skin. Gloves. There was a reason actual climbers used heavy leather gloves when doing rope work.
Luckily, Jo was fairly light, her slim form almost entirely muscle. Micah appreciated her dedication to diet and exercise for a multitude of reasons. A smile flashed across his face. He’d never thought that “supporting her weight while she made an idiotic attempt to steal a monster’s egg” would be added to that list, but here he was.
Really, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him. When Jo wanted something, she tended to speak her mind. Sometimes, what she wanted to do made sense. Others? It was little more than the excuse of an adrenaline junkie to get her next fix.
Micah was a little troubled that he didn’t really seem able to say no to her. Sometimes, like this morning, he didn’t want to follow along with her antics. He’d been tired and it was their only day off from patrolling.
She’d been willing to head out on her own too. It was just that when Jo explained to Micah what she wanted to do, he couldn’t let her go alone. Jo might be fine with scaling a mountainside in the dark and sneaking up on a monster nest on her own, but the very idea gave Micah chills.
The idea of letting Jo go off on her “adventures,” not knowing whether or not she’d return, terrified Micah. He knew for a fact that he’d just spend the entire night awake, worrying about her and wondering what more he could do to help.
Instead, here he stood. Worried for her safety but present, putting himself at risk to participate in the same idiocy that Jo insisted upon.
“Shit!” Jo’s yell rocked Micah’s attention back to the present. “Micah, pull. I got the egg, but its parents came back early.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but promptly shut it as an incensed screech sounded from below. Leave it to Jo to land them both in hot water on their day off.
He did his best to ignore the way the rope jerked in his grasp, shaving off hit points as he pulled it hand over hand. The uneven surface of the hemp burned the flesh of his hands.
Micah bit his lip against the pain. He’d need to cast Mending sooner rather than later. There was no way that his abused fingers would be able to grasp on to the rocks of the mountainside with enough strength to make a descent.
“Get away, you overgrown chicken!” Jo shouted from outside the crevice. Squawking and wingbeats answered her.
Micah grasped the rope with both hands and pulled with all of his strength. It bit into his palms, pulling the softened flesh off his burns. Each jerk rattled his shoulders as Micah twisted his body, trying to give Jo as much support as possible while his hands left bloody prints on the rope itself.
She clambered agilely over the lip of the crevice, a grapefruit-sized tan egg tucked under one arm and a smile on her face. Behind her, a bird the size of a small pony screeched angrily as it swooped toward the entrance.
Swiftly, Jo stowed the egg behind a rock. One of her blades glinted in the dawn light as she swung it at the eagle, forcing it to arrest its dive and swerve away. Without asking questions, Micah cast Wind Shield over the cavern’s entrance. It might not be enough to stop the bird if it was truly determined, but the wall of air pressure would slow or deflect any attempts to breach the cave.
“Wow!” Jo exclaimed before bursting into laughter. “That was wild. Did you see how close it got to me? I could feel the wind from its wings on my back as I made it over the edge there. Gods, that was close!”
She moved closer to Micah, one hand on his shirt and the other seeking his hand. Jo leaned in, her eyes bright and dancing as her lips parted slightly in anticipation of meeting Micah’s own.
He winced as her hand touched his. She pulled back, looking down at the red stain covering her palm. Somehow, he heard the drip of his blood splashing on the cavern floor over the distant eagle attacking the spell protecting the crevice entrance.
“Micah” —she looked from her hand to his own—“you’re hurt! Why didn’t you say anything about being hurt? What happened?”
“You can be a little overwhelming at times, Jo,” Micah winced as he picked a strand of hemp from his burned and raw hands. “You didn’t give me a second to let you know I was hurt before you bounded over here.”
“But how did you get hurt?” Concern filled her eyes as she looked at his mauled hands. “You should’ve just been safe in the cave the entire time.”
“Rope burn,” Micah hissed, pulling more of the rope threads from his hand. Healing would cause his skin to grow over the wound, but he’d be in for even more pain if he didn’t clear the injury of foreign matter first. “You were in danger and needed me to pull faster. I don’t know how I’d be able to live with myself if you got attacked on the mountainside and weren’t able to defend yourself from the eagle. If it took a little pain to get you back to safety, that was a price I was willing to pay.”
“That looks like more than a little pain, Micah.” Jo frowned, guilt flashing behind her eyes. “Are you saying that you suffered through all of that because you thought I needed help with the cliff eagle?”
“No!” she blurted out before biting her lip and chewing it in frustration. “Well, yes. I really couldn’t have fought it properly on the mountainside. It just doesn’t seem fair that you’re the one getting hurt for my idea.”
Micah cocked his head slightly, smiling sadly as he spoke the words to Mending. His hands dripped blood as they went through the pantomime the spell required.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have come?” Jo mused out loud, pacing back and forth and ignoring the irate bird of prey outside the cave. “This was all my idea and you only got hurt because you followed my lead. I know that sometimes I insist on adventures that could get dangerous, but I never meant for anyone to get hurt. I should probably leave you back in Basil’s Cove the next time I try something like this.”
“But that reckless streak of yours is why I need to come with.” Micah sighed in relief as he flexed his newly healed hands. “You live in the moment. It makes everything about you exciting and new. Unfortunately, you just don’t take danger all that seriously, Jo. If I wasn’t here, not only would you have been attacked while making your way back to the cave, there wouldn’t have been anyone here to heal you.”
“The eagle was supposed to be hunting for prey.” She sulked slightly. “I’ve watched it off and on for two weeks now and it always takes at least an hour to return. I prepared for everything. It wasn’t supposed to come back for at least another half-hour.”
“It did, though.” Micah smiled slightly. “It’s hard for you to say that you’ve prepared for everything when I’m literally looking at evidence to the contrary in the form of an eagle circling the entrance to our cave.”
“I know, but” —her eyes flashed back to his newly healed hands, distress clouding her face—“I didn’t think that you would get hurt. You have to understand, that’s never what I wanted.”
“Jo,” Micah laughed, “I don’t think you’re a monster. It’s just that sometimes you don’t think. I still love the vibrancy and excitement of your adventures; they can just be a bit much sometimes. Seriously, I don’t even know when you sleep. I can barely keep up with you.”
“I’m sorry, Micah.” She glanced down at the floor of the cave. “I guess I’ve just been doing what I wanted and not really considering you. I… I’ll have to think about how to change that.”
“Don’t worry about it, Jo.” Micah put a finger under her chin, angling her head up so she could look at him through damp eyes. “Look, let’s just give this egg back to the eagle and get out of here. The idea of trying to scale our way back down the mountain and then making an almost-full-day trek back to Basil’s Cove while being attacked by an angry bird doesn’t really have a lot of appeal. Plus, I don’t want to kill a monster just because it’s trying to protect its young. That doesn’t sit right with me.”
“Fine.” Jo smiled weakly. “I suppose it’s the least we could do.”
13
Ambush
“Come on, Micah, think of it as an adventure,” Trevor quipped, spear over his shoulder as he walked next to Micah. “Unless there’s a raid, the guild never sends out multiple teams after the same objective. This will probably be our only chance to work together unless there’s a dungeon break.”
“Can you at least show some concern, Trevor?” Sarah took a brief break from scanning the nearby forest to scowl at him. “Westmarch reported Durghish scouts sniffing around and then went silent. For all we know, the entire contingent deployed there is already dead or twisted into warbeasts.”
“Lighten up.” Trevor laughed, winking at Sarah. “Westmarch is a citadel. There might only be five hundred soldiers there, but they’re all over level 7 and well-trained. Plus, I’ve seen those walls. They were raised by a team of high-level Earth wizards almost a hundred years ago. Granite, five times a man’s height tall and about one-fifth as thick. Even if the Durgh have a veritable army, they aren’t getting in there anytime soon.”
Sarah scowled at the both of them, drawing an aggrieved flicker of expression from Micah. Trevor was always like this, brimming with chatter and opinions regardless of how appropriate they were. Most people learned fairly quickly that he was immune to shame. Any attempt to scold him would be answered with a laughing wink.
Instead, they took it out on Micah, as if it was his business to keep Trevor in line. He sighed. Of course, it could be that Sarah had it in for him. She’d never been his biggest fan, quick with a dirty look or a biting remark, but ever since Jo—
“Say, Micah,” Trevor interrupted by purposely bumping into Micah’s shoulder. “Your ex-girlfriend’s sister is kinda cute. Do you think she likes me?”
Micah turned to Trevor, his mouth open to say something, but the words just didn’t come out. Jo had dumped him almost three months ago. Honestly, it was for the best. When Jo knew what she wanted, she just reached out and took it. Where he would spend days debating merits and consequences of his actions, Jo would act.
Before long, their relationship had turned into her doing things while Micah followed along. Once the initial novelty wore off, their reckless behavior began to nag at him. He’d tried to suppress his fretting and indecision in order to go with the moment, but Jo noticed. She always noticed little details like that.
She’d been nice about it, pointing out that he wasn’t happy and that he was forcing himself. She’d even left the door open to dating him again if he could get past his passive nature.
That was almost the worst part. The breakup would have been much easier if she’d been insensitive or cheated on him. Instead, he couldn’t help but agree with her. Even if he had trouble admitting it to himself, dating her had worn on him near the end. It only would’ve been a matter of time before one of them snapped at the other and said something they couldn’t take back.
He still cared for Jo, but they were better as friends. As much as he liked spending time with her, whenever they were together, he felt like he was being overshadowed. They’d spent all of their time on spontaneous “adventures,” breaking minor laws and incurring unnecessary risks for the thrill of it. Micah didn’t care for the adrenaline rushes that Jo obviously craved; he much preferred spending his time reading grimoires or stories of past heroes.
“Micah,” Trevor interrupted him, concern on his face, “I’m just messing with you. It’s been a couple months since you and Jo broke up. You’ve spent this entire time moping. I was just hoping for some kind of reaction out of you.”
“Look” —Micah smiled weakly at his brother—“I’m fine. This is all for the best. We need to be able to work together as professionals. She saw that things were turning toxic and she ended it. We’re still friends. I just have to shake off a bit of a funk and I’ll be good to go.”
“You know what’s great for shaking off a funk?” Trevor asked conspiratorially. “Now that you’re eighteen, I can take you to the Rose Petal House and buy you some liquor and a girl to take your mind off of your ex. Trust me, it does wonders.”
“By Mursa’s quill, we are not having this conversation,” Micah groaned, blushing furiously. “It’s not about sex. I just miss her, but at the same time, I know I’m better off with how things are.”
“If it’s not about the sex” —Trevor winked at Micah—"there’s no reason not to go to the Rose Petal House. We’re going to make a fortune off of this raid; we may as well use it on something entertaining.”
Micah paused, trying to think of a way to change the subject. His eyes flitted over the rest of their column. Combat teams from three different guilds, all fitted with the eclectic but well-maintained gear that differentiated them from royal or noble soldiers, trotted down the packed-dirt road toward Westmarch. Nine teams, three each from the La
ncers, Mystic Hammers, and Steel Shrikes. Forty experienced men and women, each of whom had fought and bled in the dungeons around Basil’s Cove making names for themselves.
He didn’t know all of them personally, but everyone in the convoy knew of each other. Basil’s Cove was a city, but it wasn’t a large one. There were only so many active combat teams. Between bards’ tales, bragging over drinks, and a series of good-natured rivalries fostered by the guilds, word spread fairly quickly about each and every adventurer capable of contributing in a proper dungeon run.
“Why do you think we’re getting paid so well?” Micah asked Trevor in an attempt to distract his brother from loudly talking about Basil’s Cove’s most infamous brothel. “This is just supposed to be a scouting mission. They’d only send this many adventurers if they were expecting things to get rough.”
Before Trevor could respond, a woman began yelling. “Contact!” Micah whirled toward where she was shouting, panic in her voice. “The Durgh are in the ground—”
The rest of her sentence was cut off as a pyromancer triggered an explosion, blowing up a good chunk of the nearby forest and raining streams of fire down on the convoy. Quickly, Micah cast Wind Shield, protecting those around him from the falling embers as the condensed air diverted the flames aside. Up and down the trail, magical defenses and blessings launched into the air to protect other adventurers.
Wordlessly, Trevor turned and ran over to his squad, his jovial nature melting away the second the situation demanded concentration. Drekt and Will positioned themselves between the rest of the party and the area of the explosion, each activating their gift as they prepared themselves for combat.
The rest of the raid party did the same, breaking down into its nine composite teams. A fireworks display of magic and gifts lit up the trail. Every melee class in one party began glowing gold as a protective field from their caster settled in. Another party was surrounded by a waist-high spiked bulwark of steel.
