Nice work, Merada smirked at me, and I smirked back. Both Hordebeasts had fallen in under a minute, good timing even taking our mindlink into account.
Thanks, I thought, grinning back. But you’re right. I fight a lot better next to skilled, beautiful women.
She rolled her eyes at me, but she kept smirking, so I counted it as a half-win. Then I realized I hadn’t even worked out what I was trying to win, so I got myself back on track. How is everyone else?
Rather well, all things considered, she said, turning her head. I saw our allies rush forward, still in formation, as they slammed into the last of the Mongrels. The Gaelguard had made their usual short work of the maimed and burning Horde, but the elite stragglers at the back gave them their closest challenge, as the Mongrel’s advanced bodies were actually on par with the Woad-strengthened Celts. The two groups pressed and strained against each other as the Mongrels shoved against the Gaelguard shield wall. It was the fairies, and then elves, that turned the battle into a rout, with their smaller or thinner bodies darting around the warriors to strike the Horde warriors’ limbs. The monsters began to fall, and then they fell faster when Merada and I tore into them from behind. A moment later, we were all panting where we stood, looking around the hundreds of dead Horde bodies while I tried to figure out if I had lost any of my own people.
Val and the Testifiers were fine, although my adopted sister was giving me a dirty look at the moment. My breath caught when I realized that the only wounded Gaelguard was Breyn, heaving and gasping as blood bubbled around the palm he clenched over his chest. Alum and his wife were walking over to him with grim expressions, but a pink light was hovering over the wound, sprinkling dust into it.
“You’re okay!” Petal shouted. “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!”
Breena flew over next to her.
“Hey Petal. He’s got a sucking chest wound, so you’re going to need to—oh,” she said as she came closer. “You actually do got it. Good job.”
“The taunting worked too well,” the younger fairy said guiltily. “One of them went straight for me. He tried to leap right over my Gaelguard.” She shot Breyn another look as she worked. I looked next to the young warrior and saw a dead Mongrel the same size as the one that had head-butted me outside. “But he stood up and tackled him… here, I’ve got it,” she finished, sprinkling dust over the wound. The blood finally stopped bubbling out of the wound, and Breyn’s tattoos glowed, taking over the healing process now that part of the Gaelguard’s vital guard was restored.
“Thank you,” he panted, looking down, as if he was embarrassed.
“No, thank you!” the little fairy chittered nervously. “That monster could have swallowed me whole.”
“It was my job to keep him off of you,” Breyn hedged. “You got the killing blow.”
“Because you didn’t let him pop me into his mouth!” Petal protested. “But don’t get up, yet! Give yourself another minute or two. We can do that, right, Woad Princess? Right, Challenger?” She looked up at me and Merada.
“Five minutes,” I answered, watching Breyn’s tattoos go to work. “Then we pick a tunnel and go back to work.”
“Um,” Val said, then shook her head and switched to mindspeak. Can we talk about that?
Yeah, I answered, confused. Why?
You know how you’ve had a hard time with me fighting, even though I’m technically almost immortal, and said you only agreed to let me come because in the end you needed my talents?
I don’t remember admitting that last part to you, and you weren’t ever supposed to find out I thought that, I answered bluntly. But yes. Why?
Well, how do you think I felt, watching you dash through a whole horde of, well, Horde, that were bigger than you and on fire, when you can’t even come back from the dead a single time?
Probably really upset, I realized. But I was the best person for the job.
Did you really need to go alone? Val persisted. I could have gone with you. I’m nimble enough to keep up, I can come back from the dead, and I still have a magic talking heal-jelly inside my backpack in case you’re the one that gets hurt.
Yeah, it’s just that I don’t want to put you into any more painful experiences than I already have, I thought privately to myself, finally realizing what the issue was.
Then Val’s eyes widened, and I knew that thought hadn’t been private after all.
“That’s what this was about?” she demanded angrily, then lowered her voice as everyone started looking at her. That’s why you still take so many stupid risks?
Not entirely, I grumbled, but it’s apparently a bigger factor than I realized, until now. We’ll have to help me work this out later. For now take point with Eadric again and let’s secure the hallways.
Fine, she said after a minute. Old protocol? Start with the one on the left?
Yeah, I said, because there was no guarantee the center one would lead to the Horde Pit, or that something else would be down here that we’d need to check out first. The lack of stronger Horde concerned me, because even though this Pit had been strong enough to create the most advanced versions of shock troop Horde I had ever seen, we hadn’t seen a single Spawn yet. I knew enough about Horde Pits to know that any time they were able to field a mass of a certain tier of Hordebeast, they definitely had at least one Hordebeast of a higher tier in charge. There should have been at least one Spawn, the magic users of the Horde, present in this Pit. I couldn’t figure out why one hadn’t shown up to turn the tide of the fight.
Most likely though, they were still surprised by the fact that someone had broken into their lair without getting captured or killed. They were reacting, and I needed to take better advantage of that. I gave the signal, and we began to move down.
Eadric and Val were still on duty, but by now everyone but the sprite-folk had severed a Hordebeast’s limb and were using the oil to help disable traps, dripping on the ground as they walked. Everyone thought it was a gross idea—Horde oil really smelled, up close, but it enabled us to go twice as fast. For some reason applying a lot of Horde oil caused the traps to become completely visible, as if they were deactivating for maintenance, so we held our noses and sprinkled that goop all over the place. It worked well for the most part, but after about ten minutes the fairies all threatened to go on strike if we didn’t let them cast some fragrance magic. Apparently it was another power that came from their strong connection to flowers and other plants, but more importantly it improved morale enough to where we could finish trekking down the damn hallway without further incident.
The hallway turned out to be a long, straight tunnel, the first half of it dotted with a series of side-rooms that I expected to be lairs for Hordebeasts. The second half seemed to be dotted with rooms containing equipment and other goods, probably gathered from other raids. The long hallway finally ended in a set of doors—surprisingly untrapped—that led to a large chamber with alcove-like holes all along the wall.
Each hole was barred, and frightened voices came from them. Even the floor in the middle of the chamber had them.
“Is it time?” one of those voices asked.
“I don’t want to go,” a young boy sobbed. “I want to go home instead.”
“I don’t want to go with the Earthborn,” another child said.
“Shh,” a tiny voice said from a smaller cage, giving off a faint yellow glow. “It’s okay. They’re probably coming for one of us instead.”
We had already begun to sweep into the room, but the Gaelguard all froze for a moment, stiffening.
“Lord Challenger,” Alum began. “Why are children and small folk in cages?”
Apparently slavery was not in fashion back in Alum’s time. But the captives reacted badly to his title for me.
“Challenger?” another voice said, too weak for me to tell the age or gender. “Oh, no. Not one of those.”
“They’re gonna take one of the fairies again, mama,” a little girl cried. “Bad things are gonna happen to her
.”
“Right then,” Merada’s voice cut through, steady but angry, “that’s enough of that. No more crying out of the lot of ye.”
Her eyes swept through the room, taking everything. My other companions had already done the same.
Still no traps, Val sent. Looks like a holding center for Earthbound prisoners, like the one Wes broke us all out of on Avalon.
Ye mean there are more of these? Merada demanded. On other worlds?
I guess so, I answered grimly. I’ll let you take point, since they all have a different opinion of me now.
A brief wave of guilt spilled out from Merada, and then she returned her focus to the prisoners.
“Woad Princess,” another woman’s voice muttered. “Is it really you?”
“Do ye know of anyone else who bothers to talk like this?” Stell’s Satellite asked tartly. “Now where are yer guards, and where is the key for ye all?”
“The Earthborn have it,” a fairy babbled brightly. “The Horde hold us for them. In exchange they help the Horde get more gear, and prisoners, and power.” The little woman gripped the bars tightly. “They’ve even helped the Horde create new monsters!”
So that was where the Miscreants came from. They seemed to work together on a level that gave the Horde an effective rank-and-file troop, something the monsters always lacked, according to Stell. It probably gave them another edge in large battles, even if they were completely useless against a team as powerful as mine. It also explained why their gear had been a bit more uniform, and better quality.
“And where are these other Earthborn?” Merada asked, eyes scanning the room once more.
“Why ask us?” a woman asked bitterly. “There’s one right next to you. He looks just like the one that led us down here.”
“No,” my adopted sister said suddenly, stepping forward. “He’s not the same, and he’s not the only Earthborn here. Look at me,” she said, gesturing to her Asian features. “Do I look native to you? I’m also an Earthborn. And I was a prisoner, too. Those Earthborn who tricked and kidnapped you practiced on other Earthborn like me first. He saved me,” Val said, pointing her finger at me. “He’s always saved me, and not just me! He always stood up to the bad Earthborn back home, and that’s why they make every fake hero look like him! But he’s the real thing, and if you want to let him help you, you better wake up and realize that he’s the real thing, and that no one has time to lie to people who are already captured!”
As she spoke, I felt some kind of pressure try to press down on Val. But it didn’t stop her, and as she pressed through to finish speaking, I felt something gather together inside of her, and push.
As everyone watched, she closed her eyes and let the power pulse out of her.
“Wow,” Breena said, flying next to her. “Congrats on the Rise, Val. That everyone saw, which lends even further credence to your words. You guys believe I’m the real Challenger’s fairy, right?” Breena flew upward, glowing in an orange and pink light. “They haven’t been able to fake me well, yet, have they?”
There was a brief, stunned silence. And then all the captured fairies began chattering.
“It’s Aunt Breena!”
“Aunt Breena’s still alive!”
“He’s the real Challenger!”
“Alright then,” Merada interjected. “Glad ye’re all convinced. Now where be the rest of the rotten ones?”
“They went to the Pit!” someone shouted out. “It should be the center tunnel!”
“They went there when the noise started!”
“Right then,” Merada announced. “Ye all just sit tight then. The Challenger and I will go about serving the proper thrashins to the proper people.”
A hushed cheer came out from several of the alcoves, and we turned back to head for the middle tunnel, moving as quickly as we dared.
“Slavery’s returned,” I heard Alum mutter angrily. “We worked so hard to stamp it out of the tribes.”
“Times’ve changed, now,” Merada said sadly, and angrily.
“We’ll just have to stamp it out again,” I said, and then we all went silent as we walked back through the disarmed tunnel to the intersection where the earlier battle took place.
Center tunnel, then? I messaged the team, and had Breena whisper the same question to Alum. Everyone nodded, because now we knew the center tunnel had at least two groups worth dealing with. We decided to go full stealth, falling back under the empowered version of my dagger’s shroud, and we head down the center tunnel as quickly as we dared. Ironically, there seemed to be even fewer traps down this hallway, probably because the Horde was wanting people to wind up inside their pit. I had to steel myself when I realized that. The state of Pit victims had always horrified me, their miraculous recoveries not withstanding.
Once again, we approached a massive door with no traps. Beyond the door we could hear voices.
“This is stupid,” a deep, human voice said bluntly. “Every second you wait here gives them another moment to prepare. We’ve talked to your kind about being stupid. I thought we were over this.”
“It is not stupid!” a sinister, inhuman voice hissed. “We have been over this as well! The Pit and its Prey must be guarded! We are stronger if we remain here!”
“No, you’re weaker because you don’t know what’s beyond these walls,” the human retorted. “For all you know they’ve gone back to get help already. Then what will you do?”
“Ensure the Pit is safe so that our numbers can regrow,” the Horde voice spat. “We have been producing Horde slowly, per your foolish requests, instead of creating an army that will sweep over all nearby lands. The Pit is strong enough now to recover our losses in no more than a few days!”
“Yes, and that’s because you listened to us and did not attack in force earlier,” the man’s voice said somewhat patiently. “Right now, the people of this world have to split their attention between multiple Trials—or Tumults, or whatever they’re called.”
“One of both, in this case,” the Horde replied with surprising patience. “And further hiding will doom us. The traitor-prince has come to this world.”
“The traitor-prince is still in our custody,” the Malus Man insisted, either deceitfully or obliviously.
“Give him to us, then!” the monster’s voice snapped. “Give him to us so that we may kill the traitor-prince!”
“You can’t have him,” the human replied tiredly. “We’re using him for research. We’ve been over this. He’s going to die anyway. He probably already has.”
“Then give us his corpse so that we may vent on it and feed it to the Pit!”
Ew, I thought, as my party gathered outside the door and quietly prepared to enter. I doubt they’d fail to notice a pair of giant doors opening, but maybe I could use the fact that they weren’t entirely certain I was here, but were still sending imposters of me all over the place. I quickly wrote a veiling script Karim had shown me to slightly obscure my features, making me look like the generic false Challengers Merada had described to me on the way over here.
“Look,” the man said, changing the subject. “You’re still going about this the wrong way. If you just hold some of the captives hostage, you have a good chance of turning the odds out there in your favor.”
“Hostages,” the Horde murmured. “You have used this word before. The act of risking captured prey for a perceived benefit.”
“You have already acquired more prey than you know what to do with. Holding a knife to a mother and a child risks a small loss to you and a huge loss to the people choosing to attack you.”
“Wrong, human,” the Horde spat. “Killing prey outside the Pit robs them of an infinite number of deaths that the Pit could give them if they were placed inside of it. We do not give up prey. That is why the traitor-prince is the traitor-prince.”
“That’s nonsense,” the Earthborn spat. “You give a number of prey as tribute to us. And didn’t you used to parade previously used prey in front of you
r future victims all the time? Long ago?”
“We have never given you prey that has already been placed in the Pit,” the Horde voice countered. “And we only shared prey at all because you were willing to use them properly, and compensate us a hundredfold over for each prey given. As for the second,” the monster growled, “you open up old wounds. We would flaunt used prey to discourage besieged cities of future prey, at a distance where our prey could not be risked, to let the future prey know of their fate and tremble in anticipation of the inevitable, and also sate ourselves when we were so far from the Pit. But we can no longer do that,” the Hordebeast began to shout, “because of the taint of the traitor-prince! We are denied the sweetest of things, and all because of his words! And it is all your fault! So give us back the traitor-prince!”
“Wait,” the human voice said, confused. “What are you talking about?”
For a wild moment I actually wanted to listen to the monster’s reasoning. And then I remembered how every single previous conversation with the Horde had gone, and decided to stop being an idiot.
Ready? I asked.
They’re all ready, Breena confirmed. You don’t have to talk to them this time.
Woad Children (Challenger's Call Book 3) Page 36
