by Nick Harrow
“Zillah says she could.” Kezakazek’s violet eyes burned with passion and her lower lip trembled. “It wouldn’t be easy, but she could break the bond.”
“Is that true?” I turned my gaze on Nephket and held her eyes with mine. “Have you ever heard of a guardian going rogue after they’ve been bound?”
“No, but—”
“Zillah did.” Kezakazek squeezed my hand when she spoke. “That’s how she ended up back in the Grove of Dead Trees, where you found her.”
A thousand questions raced through my mind, but I didn’t have the time to chase down answers to even a fraction of them. Zillah had made it clear she despised her former dungeon lord, but she’d never told me that she was a traitor.
It was a lot to take in, and there was no space in my skull for any of it.
“If you’re worried Del will break loose from her bond, then you know I can’t release her from her place as my guardian. She really would be free to raise hell then.”
“We know.” My guardians spoke in unison and looked at one another instead of me. There was a cold, hard edge to their voices that made it clear what they thought I should do with the soultaker.
It made my heart ache to hear it.
“No.” I shook my head and stared at each of the guardians in turn. “I won’t kill her, either. Don’t you think she’s been through enough?”
“She’s suffered more than anyone I’ve ever known,” Nephket agreed. “She waited for centuries for Rathokhetra to return and make her his queen. She was trapped for what must’ve felt like forever in a tomb surrounded by undead. The drow tortured her to the brink of madness while they drained her core. Her mind was on the verge of annihilation when we found her. And, yet, through all of that, Delsinia refused to die.”
“What are you getting at? You think she waited all this time for me to show up so she could shank me?”
“No.” Nephket’s voice was soft. “She waited for her love to return. She endured horrors that would have destroyed most of us to see the old Rathokhetra once again. I think she’s still waiting for him. And I think she would find some way to break her bond and betray you if there was even the slightest chance that would bring her true love back.”
“That’s insane.” My denial didn’t stop a cold thread of unease from uncoiling in the depths of my mind. “That Rathokhetra is dead. The remnants of his mind are trapped in my skull. She can’t bring him back.”
“That doesn’t mean she won’t try.” Nephket’s fingers tightened around mine, and the tips of her claws pricked my palm. “And that could kill you.”
“You really think she’d do that?” There was no way for me to reconcile the Delsinia who gazed at me with such love and adoration with the conniving witch Nephket and Kezakazek wanted me to see.
Nephket studied my face. She wiped an unshed tear from her eye and straightened her spine.
“If I were in Delsinia’s place and you were the Rathokhetra who was lost, I would do much worse for even a chance to bring you back.” Her voice was little more than a sigh. “Wouldn’t you do the same for me?”
The silence around the table as they waited for my reply was an oppressive weight on my thoughts. Logically, I knew Nephket’s emotional plea was a trap. But it was one I couldn’t avoid.
“Of course I’d do it for you,” I said. “I would do anything for you.”
“Then trust me,” Nephket begged. “Beware of Delsinia. She will be the death of us all.”
Boots banged on the stairs leading up to the dining room and shattered the silence that had followed Nephket’s words. As awkward as the interruption was, it delayed any decision I’d have to make about Delsinia, so I grabbed it with both hands.
“What’s going on?”
“Raiders,” Anunaset panted. She’d clearly run all the way here from wherever she’d been on patrol the instant she’d caught sight of Charlie emerging from the dungeon entrance on the east side of the oasis. “Quite a few of them. It looks like Zillah and Del are their prisoners.”
“It’s all part of the plan.” I felt my familiar tighten beside me and knew I was on very thin ice with my priestess. “Neph, you found places for our guests?”
“Against my better judgment,” Nephket said icily. “Come with me, Anunaset. We’ll get the treasure hunters settled in their temporary quarters.”
My priestess rose from her chair and squeezed my shoulder. I had no doubt she was still pissed, but that simple gesture took the worst of the sting out of our argument. I understood Nephket’s anger grew because she feared for my safety. If she didn’t love me so fiercely, she wouldn’t be nearly as pissed when I stuck my neck out.
“She’s mad,” the little girl said after Nephket and Anunaset had vanished down the stairs. “My da had to sleep outside with the goats when my ma was that mad.”
Kez bent over her plate and tried, with limited success, to stifle a laugh. Her eyes watered as she snickered into her hand and hung on to the tablecloth with her other hand as if she was afraid she’d fall right out of her seat. When she finally recovered from her giggle fit, she made a hasty exit.
“I should get back to work.” The dark elf shoveled a last strip of bacon into her mouth, licked her lips, and jumped up from her seat. She leaned over and planted a hungry kiss on my lips, then darted away. “Somebody’s gotta figure out how to win this war.”
“I already have,” I said. “But I appreciate your help. Let’s leave the Delsinia thing alone for a while, all right? I understand why you and Neph are worried. It will take me some time to get to the bottom of it.”
“I hope you have that much time left.” The dark elf tousled Izel’s hair and headed for the stairs.
“They’re all your girlfriends?” The kid skewered one blueberry after another on the tines of her fork. “My da had a girlfriend until my ma found out.”
“They’re more than my girlfriends.” That was what made all this so complicated. If Del had been just a guardian, I wouldn’t have hesitated to send her on her way. But we were closer than that. “A lot more, really.”
“They’re nice.” Izel wrinkled her nose and pulled blueberries off her fork with her teeth, one at a time. “Even Zillah. Her tail is scary, but she’s fun. I like them.”
“That’s good.” And that exhausted my ability to support small talk with a little girl. The only questions I could think to ask Izel were what her dead parents had told her and how she felt about the war, and neither of those seemed like they’d lead to anything but tears. “You’ll be okay if I leave you alone for a while?”
“I’m never alone,” the girl corrected me. “There’s always a wahket somewhere.”
And, sure enough, one of the cat women emerged from the door that led to the kitchen to scoop up the plates.
“The two of you are getting along?” the wahket asked Izel. “I know he can be a little scary.”
“He’s not scary.” The kid finished her plate, then placed it on top of the stack the wahket had formed in the center of the table. Then she scurried around to my seat and gave me a lopsided grin. “When I’m big, I’ll be his girlfriend. His only girlfriend.”
The wahket laughed, caught herself, and glanced in my direction to make sure I wasn’t about to start smiting people for joking at my expense.
“Laugh it up. Somebody ought to.”
Giggles from the wahket and the little girl followed me down the stairs and brought a smile to my face. Even in the midst of all this chaos, with enemies on all sides and growing discord in my ranks, it was possible to find something good and pure in a child’s simple laughter.
I clung to that thought as I made my way downstairs.
Chapter 17 – Work Hard
THERE WERE TWO DWARVES, two herdsmen, and five goat-pulled wagons loaded down with iron ore parked in front of City Hall when I opened the doors. Delsinia and Zillah stood watch over the crew, and both seemed very relieved to see me.
“These dwarves have bitched nonstop for the past
hour about how weird your tunnels are. Please tell me you’re here to take them off my hands,” Zillah pleaded with me as she crossed the street to throw her arms around my neck.
“Leave them to me.” I squeezed Zillah and kissed her cheek. “Go find Neph and help her with the raiders. If they get shitty, or start causing trouble, smack them back into line.”
“You got it, boss.” Zillah leaned back from my embrace and looked into my eyes. “Everything okay?”
“I’m fine.” I tried to keep my tone light and even, but it was hard to tell even a small fib to my guardians. The truth was, I was annoyed that Zillah had put the idea that Delsinia could break free from her duties as a guardian into Kezakazek’s head. I’d have been pissed at the scorpion queen if I didn’t know she’d told the others out of a desire to protect them and me. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Liar.” She licked the side of my face and tapped the tip of my nose with one lacquered fingernail. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“You bet.” There was going to be a very awkward dinner right after the war with Lexios. I wasn’t sure which of those two events I dreaded most.
I crossed the street as Zillah headed off to help Neph, and Delsinia greeted me with an enthusiastic embrace and a passionate kiss. She wrapped her arms tightly around my neck and held on like she was afraid I’d vanish if she looked away.
“I am glad we are back together.” She kissed me again and her green eyes burned into mine. “What do you need me to do?”
“Stick with me for now.” I wanted Delsinia away from the other guardians for the time being. If their feelings of mistrust were so strong, the soultaker would pick up on it and the fight I wanted to avoid would come to a head. I also needed to keep an eye on the former dungeon lord on the off chance she’d slip up and let me see what she was really after.
If, that is, she hunted after anything at all. As far as I had been able to tell, Delsinia was just glad to be out of the hole in the ground that had been her prison for centuries.
“Gladly.” The third kiss made me want to call off the rest of my plan and retire to our bedroom.
If only there wasn’t so much goddamnned work that still needed to be done.
“You guys come with me.” I strode past the dwarves, herdsmen, and goat carts with Delsinia at my right side. The rest of the crew hurried to catch up, and the goat carts sounded like a barnyard traffic jam as they struggled to turn around. “We’ve got a lot of work to do over the next couple of days, and most of it’s on your shoulders.”
“Work’s good.” A dwarf with a beard that had been singed off just a few inches below his chin jammed his thumb into his chest. “I’m Tarl, and this ugly bastard is Brun. Kark told us to teach your surface dwellers how to not burn themselves on a forge.”
“Nice to meet you.” I glanced back to make sure the goats were keeping up and was pleased to see the little beasts had no trouble hauling their loads. “We aren’t doing anything fancy here. I need you to show my people how to increase the value of finished items with the least amount of time and effort.”
“Increase by how much?” Brun dug a bug the size of his thumb out of the matted tangle of his knee-length beard and stomped it into goo under his hobnailed boots.
“You tell me. You’re the experts.”
The goats clomped happily along behind us, and their herdsmen switched between looks of boredom and gazes of keen interest at Delsinia as she swayed down the street ahead of them.
“Good sharpening job and then heat treatment?” Tarl asked Brun. “That would turn a shit weapon into a halfway decent one. Probably jack up the price by fifty percent?”
“Maybe.” Tarl considered that. “Assembly work might be worth more if the hilts and blades were separate.”
The dwarves spent the rest of the trip deep in discussion about the best and most efficient ways to increase the value of simple iron weapons. By the time we reached the city center where most of the craftsmen had set up, they’d come up with a plan I approved of.
Nephket had given the wahket the task of rounding up the blacksmiths, and they’d done a fine job of that. The smiths were gathered in front of a large forge near the middle of the city and looked ready to get to work. The way they gave the dwarves the side-eye treatment made it clear the locals weren’t quite so keen on outsiders horning in on their business, though.
“Thanks for coming.” My words killed the idle conversation, and every eye zoomed in on me. “The oasis needs your help. These iron dwarves have come here to show you—”
“We know how to work iron.” A woman with arms as big around as my thighs leaned on a hammer that would have impressed Thor. “All we need are the materials.”
“You need to listen.” As usual, it was time to impress the locals with my super-keen dungeon lord powers. “And watch.”
The herdsmen had gathered the goat carts together and emptied the chunks of iron ore onto the ground behind them.
“This is two tons of iron ore.” I summoned the Tablet of Transformation and found the information I needed. “And this is a bunch of greatswords.”
The pile of iron vanished in a flash of white light, and a shitload of half-finished swords took its place.
The smiths stared at the pile with eyes as big as softballs, and the dwarves looked like they’d just swallowed a mouthful of bees. This was the kind of practical magic that most of the common folks never had a chance to see. They all suddenly realized that the hard work they did was nothing compared to the might of a single spellcaster with the right knowledge.
It was hard to watch the facts of life sink in, but it was better they understand their place in the universe now, before the shit really hit the fan.
A pound of iron ore was worth three silver pieces. Four thousand pounds of iron fetched twelve thousand silver pieces, or twelve hundred gold coins.
A good greatsword was worth an even fifty gold pieces on the open market. Converting the value of the iron into gold pieces allowed me to create twenty-four good greatswords ready to hack the legs off my enemies.
Or, for the same value, I could conjure forty-eight dull greatswords in serious need of a whetstone and some muscle.
Or an even one hundred greatsword blades and one hundred pommels that needed to be assembled, sharpened, and tempered before they were worthy to be called swords.
“This is grunt work.” Tarl kicked at one of the dull blades and spat with disgust. “We’re craftsmen, not apprentices.”
“You’re whatever I need you to be today.” I nudged the sword he’d dislodged back into place on the pile. “Teach the smiths and apprentices here how to assemble these into greatswords, temper the blades, and sharpen them to a fine edge in the fastest way possible.”
“You could’ve just magicked up finished weapons for yourself,” Brun said. “What’s the point of the extra work for us?”
“I figured a dwarf would’ve done the math by now. This pile of greatsword parts is worth twelve hundred gold pieces. Once you’ve assembled them, sharpened them, and readied them for battle, they’ll be worth five thousand gold pieces. How fast can you do all that?”
The dwarves conferred for a moment, scratched their beards, and tallied a few sums on their grubby fingertips.
“We can teach a man to finish one of these swords in an hour.” Brun grimaced at the thought. “How many smiths you got?”
“I want every one of you with even a passing familiarity of the blacksmith’s trade to step forward, right now.” It took a few moments for the crowd to react, but soon enough we had a group of five men and three times that many apprentices gathered near the wagons. “All of you are now dedicated to this project. Brun and Tarl have more experience between them than the rest of you have years of life. Do exactly what they say. Don’t bitch or whine or complain. The oasis needs your help today.”
My little speech might not have convinced all these craftsmen that this was a good idea, but it did get them moving. Tarl and Brun s
plit the twenty men and women into two groups using no logic that made sense to me, and each of the dwarves took one of the groups over to the pile of greatsword pieces. They stabbed their blunt fingers at people, growled orders, and generally kept everyone too busy to question what the fuck was going on.
“That was clever,” Delsinia said. “I never considered such a maneuver during my time as a dungeon lord.”
“No?” I put an arm around Delsinia’s waist and led her away from the crowd of blacksmiths. My head ached at just the thought of all the hammering that was about to start up. I wanted some distance from that noise. “This seemed like the easiest way for me to get the money I need for more upgrades to the oasis.”
“You are not bound by the precepts of those who came before.” Delsinia leaned against me and gently scratched my back with the nails of her left hand. “It is a strength I had not considered when we first met. I worried that you might be too naïve and uninformed in the ways of a dungeon lord to survive.”
Well, I had asked Del to be honest with me about what she saw and felt. There were a lot of things I didn’t know about being a dungeon lord, and she’d been smart enough to pick up on them.
“What is it I’m missing?” We sat down on a bench near the waters of the oasis. The ringing of hammers on metal echoed off the buildings around us like a chorus of bells.
“History, mostly.” Delsinia rested her hand on my thigh and her head on my shoulder. “Your perspective is not tied to decades or centuries as a dungeon lord. You see the world with fewer rules than those of us with more experience.”
“If there was one thing you could tell me to make me better at my job, what would it be?”
Delsinia considered the question for a moment. Her clawed toes scraped a circle in the sand of the shoreline, and she shifted uneasily next to me. She wrestled for long moments with what she wanted to tell me and finally let out an exasperated sigh.
“There are so many things.” She squeezed my leg and sighed again. “I worry that by telling you too much, I will spoil what it is that makes you so special. But I also worry that if I do not tell you enough, this life will destroy you.”
