by Hugo Huesca
He decided the need justified the risk to his body.
As he opened his mouth to Murmur’s reach out, Andreena’s potion worked its own peculiar brand of magic and a wave of drowsiness carried his consciousness away.
The pyramid rose like a black obsidian tooth in the heart of a primordial jungle, wide stone steps ascending for hundreds of feet until they reached a temple at the top, which was supported by powerful columns carved with all manners of snakes and old beasts whose names had long been forgotten since the time they walked the earth.
Ed stood at the center of the temple, dressed like a ceremonial priest, his hair pulled back by an intricate jeweled crest made of threaded snakeskin. He wore a long tunic made of vegetable fiber that ran down to his knees, had on wooden sandals, and carried an obsidian knife at his waist.
“Great,” he said, studying his hands, which were covered in jeweled gold bracelets. His skin had the unreal quality of dream. “Not even when I’m asleep do I get to rest. Who is it this time? Kharon? Korghiran? The tooth fairy?”
The temple was sparsely decorated, with a cracked stone altar at its center and canals carved to its sides running down through the floor to the steps of the pyramid and below. The canals were permanently black from years of blood flowing through it.
The air was thick with humidity, mosquitoes, the scream of primates, and the singing of colorful birds. In the distant edge of the jungle, past the tip of a smoking volcano, he saw a gigantic winged shape dive through the clouds at dizzying speed, a column of fire blasting from its open maw like a furnace. Although only visible through the smoke for a moment, the shape had been colossal, as if a mountain had sprouted wings and challenged the rage of the volcano underneath it. A faraway roar resonated through the jungle, sending flocks of birds flying away. The sound awoke an old fear in Ed’s heart, an instinctual remnant left over in the blood of all Ivalians of a time before time, when beings far beyond the power of a Dungeon Lord or an Inquisitor had ruled the world.
The Dungeon Lord placed a hand over the hilt of his knife and walked backward until he bumped into the edge of the altar, suddenly aware that some ancient things still could devour a mortal if he was unlucky enough to chance upon them, even in a dream. Even as mere recollections.
“Good,” said a woman’s musical voice coming from somewhere near, followed by a raspy, dry sort of noise, like long, heavy scales chafing against obsidian. “You’ve grown cautious since the last time we met. That’s your Spirit attribute increasing. Trust your instincts, Dungeon Lord. They’ll make you live longer than power or gold ever will.”
“The Lady of Secrets it is,” Ed said, hiding his uneasy fear under a facade of insolence. “You know, I’m starting to see the family resemblance to your brother. Always a dramatic entrance with you demigods—we never appear in a tavern to have a quick chat. Haven’t you people ever heard of sending a letter?”
Korghiran, Regent of Xovia, sister to Kharon the Boatman, daughter of the Dark god Murmur, slithered into view through the columns of her temple. From her waist up, she was an impossibly beautiful naked woman with lustrous raven hair that shamed the glimmer of a jewel and eyes that dwarfed the ocean in both depth and the danger swimming underneath. “Then again, some mortals never change,” she chided him. “Edward of the Haunt, for me this is the equivalent of popping up, as you say, for a quick chat in a tavern.”
Ed willed himself to show no fear and stepped toward the demigoddess. He caught sight of the impossibly large serpent body growing seamlessly from her waist down, emerald scales glinting darkly as the body hugged the entire upper part of the pyramid almost lovingly, like a constrictor comforting her prey before smothering it.
Korghiran, like the creature flying through volcanic smoke, were some of the beings that surely were just as dangerous in dreams as they were in reality.
“Where are we?” the Dungeon Lord asked her. “This doesn’t look like the Netherworld.” The sky was blue, although with a slight emerald shade that fit Korghiran perfectly.
“Primordial Ivalis,” she said, a forked tongue flicking in amusement through her painfully attractive crimson lips. “In the time when it held its first name, now forgotten, impossible for mortal tongues to utter it. In an age that mortals call Mythical, this place of worship was one of my many houses. My father, my brothers, and I had different shapes and names then, and so did our enemies. Before we were forced away into exile in the Netherworld. Before Objectivity.”
Ed blinked. “There was a time before Objectivity?”
“There was a time before even us gods,” Korghiran said, lust for ages gone forever shining in her eyes.
“Then tell me about it.”
“The Lady of Secrets would be a lousy title if I went around revealing forgotten truths not meant for mortals to know,” Korghiran said, amused. She snaked farther inside the temple, making Ed’s heart race in alarm, until she was only a few paces away. “The sight of this bygone age is a gift that few living men have known in your time, Edward. The Bards of Elaitra would murder for this chance. Consider it a show of my love for you, sweet mortal. A reward for your brave triumph against the Heroes. It is one of the many advantages of having Korghiran as a Dark Patron.”
There was that distant roar from the volcano again to punctuate her words. Another memory of the Age of Myths. Ed tensed, and—only for an instant—he saw Korghiran do something that dried his mouth and stilled the breath in his lungs.
She flinched at the noise.
“How about we keep this visit short?” Ed suggested quietly.
“Perhaps some memories are best left forgotten,” Korghiran agreed.
Both Regent and Dungeon Lord recovered quickly from the brief moment when both of their masks had been down.
“The Endeavor is only a few months away. If you are to create an army and free your beloved Starevos before the Inquisition crushes it, the Standard Factory is your only chance.” The golden rings and chains hanging from her body tinkled as she enveloped Ed with her snake body. “All those dangerous, deadly tricks that your dungeon is designing for you to use against your enemies won’t be enough if you don’t know what you’re up against. Not without allies to watch your back.”
Ed narrowed his eyes. Those “tricks” she was talking about were top-secret research, shielded from magical or mundane spying by every means available. Had she just guessed he was planning something, or had she found out somehow? The implications worried him.
“I hope you didn’t bring me here for just a pep talk,” Ed said. “I know how important the Endeavor is. You don’t need to remind me. When it comes, you’ll have your spell patents and I’ll have my army, as we agreed.” Then we can go our own merry damn ways, he added to himself.
“Soon enough, a messenger shall arrive to your dungeon, carrying an invitation from Lady Aramis Vaines calling all participants of the Endeavor to one of the deadliest Lotian traditions ever devised: a dinner party between Dungeon Lords.” Her golden fingers ran through his hair, sending warm, unwelcome jolts of pleasure through his spine. “Accept the invitation, Edward. It shall be your best chance to know your enemy and meet the allies I’ve lovingly gathered for you. Find their secrets. Uncover their weaknesses.”
“A dinner party,” Ed said, trying to ignore Korghiran’s attempts at clouding his mind. “That’s not really my style.”
“Lady Vaines shall grant you safety for the duration and mean it, but a trap can be sprung in many ways. Every person in that party, including her, attends with the same intention as you. Knowledge is power, Edward. Keep your secrets close to heart.” She raised one playful finger and caressed Ed’s cheek, leaving a path of warmth in its wake. “And beware my brother’s meddling. My spies tell me Kharon has made a move to disrupt the sanctity of the Endeavor. You may be the mortal that best knows my brother, so you surely agree that this is dangerous for all of us. Find out what he plans, then let me handle him, as Murmur’s eldest is beyond your reach, Dungeon Lord.”
“I can see why my brother likes you, you poor little plaything. Defiance makes us feel young. Reminds us of our childhood,” she said as the dream unraveled around them and Ed’s consciousness floated upward toward the light of the waking world. “But in the end, Dungeon Lord, remember that mortals are meant to break.”
Someone stood beside Ed’s bed. The Dungeon Lord jumped up in a tangle of sheets and brandished a knife an inch from the neck of the old drone that served as his butler. The wrinkled imp gazed at him with an insolent expression, as only one who knew it could respawn could.
“Shit, sorry,” Ed said, and hid the knife back under his pillow. “What is it?”
A polite knock at the door answered his question. Ed stood, threw on a cotton tunic, and stumbled his way to the door in the dark. A nervous she-batblin waited on the other side. She took a glance at the disheveled Dungeon Lord and blushed.
“A messenger has just arrived, Lord Wraith,” she told him.
“That was quick,” Ed said. “Vaines certainly doesn’t waste her time.”
“Vaines, my Lord? The messenger is from Marshal Kessih. She has returned from her quest.”
That’s unexpected, Ed thought. Last time they’d messaged, Kes had told him she expected it to be another month before she came back home. Either the talks had gone better than expected, or much worse. Well, only one way to find out.
8
Chapter Eight
The Aviary
A couple hours later, Ed and his friends stepped through the Haunt’s Portal and into the charred landscape of the Netherworld, flanked by a team of Haga’Anashi led by Yumiya for extra safety.
They appeared inside an outpost, a stone building surrounded by a palisade and other defensive constructions. Six bulky ogre minions manned the place, as well as their kaftar trainers, a contingent of spider warriors, a few human archers, and rows of man-eater plants that served as extra defense. Both humans and batblins had to be rotated out of Netherworldly duty constantly, as defending the outpost was a nerve-wracking exercise. Most of the time, nothing happened, and things got quite boring—until they didn’t. The Netherworld was huge, and most of it was wild and untamed with a few pockets of Regent-controlled civilization. So it was not uncommon for the outpost to be attacked by marauding bands of low-to-mid-level fiends.
It was a great way for the Haunt’s rookies to grind experience points, and having the Portal so close meant that reinforcements were always near if things got out of control.
There were no attacks today, though. Any scouting fiend looking at them from afar would’ve seen the extra activity, and then the cinderpede coming their way, and would’ve gone to search for easier targets.
Ilma, the cinderpede, was a giant armored centipede that had more in common with a mobile fortress than an insect. Courtesy of Regent Korghiran, it was a way for Ed and his minions to go safely back and forth between the outpost and the Xovia citadel.
As the cinderpede stopped a couple hundred meters away from the palisade, Ed and the others hurried outside to meet Kes and the other adventurers returning from their trip.
Kes stepped down the ladder, looking weary and travel-fatigued. She had Portaled through Xovia into the island-continent where the avians lived, then back again once her recruitment mission was done. She was followed by the Haga’Anashi team that had accompanied her during the adventure. All looked stronger than when they had left, and had earned about a hundred experience points each, Kes beating them with a solid two hundred. Two of the ten Monster Hunters were missing, though.
He walked up to his old friend. “Good to see you again, Kes,” he called as the two groups met. Yumiya and the other kaftars embraced their returning clan-mates, and the Dungeon Lord and the Marshal grasped forearms and exchanged warm greetings. Ed grabbed her travel pack, judging that she’d carried it long enough, and together they went inside the outpost gates.
Kes then faced Yumiya. “My apologies,” she said, handling the kaftar two necklaces stringed with fangs. “We got jumped by minotaur slavers on our way to the island. Moreh and Yakkin didn’t make it.”
Yumiya accepted the necklaces. “I’ll make sure these are returned to the clan-cradle,” she said. “Did they have good deaths?”
“They went swinging and screaming,” Kes said grimly.
“Good. A good kaftar death,” Yumiya said. “Our ancestors shall greet them with pride.”
Kes nodded, and all was said between them.
“You look well, Ed,” she said, once Yumiya had returned to the front of the expedition. “Congratulations on the extra rank in Brawn. Alder, Lavy, Klek, it’s good to see you. I’m glad to see everyone managed to survive without me covering your rear-ends.” The Marshal wore leather armor and travel clothes meant for warm climates. Her outfit looked ragged, dirty, and crusted with various shades of color, a bunch of which was certainly dried blood. “I’m afraid I have both good news and bad news,” she added.
“Later,” Ed told her. “You can tell us all about it once you’re home.”
Lavy, who normally wouldn’t have gotten her expensive clothes a mile near that mess, stepped up to the avian and hugged her. “Good to have you back.” Ed felt a surge of pride at seeing how much had Lavy matured since he’d first met her. Then the Witch wrinkled her nose and gagged. “Alita’s sweet tits, you smell terrible!”
Then again, some things never change.
“That’s the smell of adventure, Lavy! If you think that’s bad wait til you see what my legs look like. You seem like you haven’t trained at all since I left,” Kes said, grinning, probably reaching the same conclusion as Ed. “Hadn’t you vowed to the gods to become a fearsome warrior?”
Lavy shrugged. “Yeah. Turns out exercise is hard. I’ll let my fearsome servants do the fighting for me.”
“We’ll see about that.” Kes turned to Klek. “By Hogbus, you’re getting huge, Klek. What have you been you eating?”
The batblin beamed in pride. “I’ve been training hard,” he said.
“I’m not sure training can manage such a change,” Kes muttered. “Are you sure performance-enhancing magic is not involved? Careful with that. It can do a number on your body.”
Klek shook his head energetically. “The only magic I need is hard work!”
“Well… keep going. Whatever you’re doing is working.” She turned to Alder, who beamed at her. “I haven’t had a drink in ages,” she told him simply.
“Shall we go tavernhopping as soon as possible?”
“Yup.”
“I’ll tell Karmich and Pris. Those Thieves probably know some good underground places we haven’t gotten kicked out of yet.”
“We could use the reinforcements… if they can keep up, that is.”
Soon enough, it was as if Kes hadn’t gone at all. Ed smiled. It felt good to have his family back together.
They were in the middle of the outpost when Kes stopped him. “Sorry about bringing up work so soon, but my news won’t wait until we’re back. The bad news is, my cousins are as distrustful of strangers as ever. No matter how hard I tried, I could not convince the clan to join us. Wetlands, I bugged them so much they almost killed me so I would shut up.”
Ed nodded. That much he had already suspected. He tried to hide his disappointment. Without air support to bolster the Haunt, the only way to stop the Heiligian griffins would be Jarlen’s vampires, and allowing Jarlen to become even more indispensable was very, very dangerous.
“The good news,” Kes went on, smiling mischievously, “is that I managed to rouse the curiosity of a couple youths. My cousins have never been mini
ons of a Dungeon Lord before. They have never heard of Heiliges or Lotia and don’t care one bit about either. But they sure love a good feast after a war, and I promised they’ll have more than their fill.” She pointed up at the fiery Netherwordly sky. Ed and the others followed her gaze and saw five black-feathered figures quickly flying toward them. One let out an excited, shrill screech as they slowed down to land. “Guys, meet the carrion avians, the black sheep of the Volantis Enclave.”
Ed began work on the aviary as soon as they returned from the Netherworld. Seeing how far they had traveled just to meet him, it seemed impolite not to get them appropriate housing as soon as possible.
The aviary served as living quarters and at the same time provided comfortable landing and take-off spaces. Ed built it midway atop the small mountain whose foothills hid the bulk of the Haunt, in an area protected from the harsh winds by the angle of the mountain slope. Since it was open roofed, pelts and thick tapestries would be hung from column to column during winter to form a sort of tent to protect from the cold, as well as a huge bonfire that would run day and night in the middle of the place. Ed added a bunch of magical enchantments and invisible protections and had his drones connect it to the ley line of the main dungeon. It would take them a while to dig so far down, and the energy input to the aviary would be faint, yet enough for the aviary to count as a dungeon room, keep the enchantments running, and provide some protection from the elements.
As the drones’ rhythmical dance added some hammocks and the small pelt huts that served as roosting nests, Ed and Kes met with the leader of the five carrion avians, a young male named Shrukew.
“Thank you again for coming to Starevos,” Ed said. “I know this is a huge risk you’re taking.”
Shrukew made a quick, nervous movement with his head that for a second made Ed think the avian had just tried to break his own neck. “Your emissary promised plenty of food, open fields, and experience points for my clan. The elders are overly cautious and slow to change, so it’s the duty of the young to explore and find new skies.”
