by J. R. Ford
Lightning blasted it, and apprentices clawed at the golem to try to reclaim their companion. But it only shuddered and released a pollen mist. The warier apprentices scrambled away; the oblivious slumped at the foot of their looming grave.
“No shot,” Farrukh whispered. “Let’s turn back.”
“We can kill the sentries, and Edwin won’t see us coming,” Heather said. “One pounce and he’s dead.”
“Or that thing could eat us,” I said. Though she’d been silenced, the entombed apprentice’s screams still rang in my ears. “Without a bowshot, it’s too risky.”
Heather seemed unconvinced, but when I tugged her away, she came. We hurried toward the rebels’ hideout.
The dungeon was littered with corpses and ash, but no living Enlightened. The ferny path rose and eventually came to an unlocked door. It opened into a reeking tunnel with a walkway alongside a channel of waste slurry.
“Sometimes this game is too realistic,” I said, my voice nasal with my nose clamped shut.
Fortunately, it wasn’t a long journey to the hideout entrance. One turn right, straight for a few minutes, then a left turn at a four-way junction.
Two Enlightened waited in a wall alcove near the ladder we wanted. One of them started weaving electricity, while a red glow coalesced around the other one’s hands.
Farrukh nocked and shot before the mage could complete his cast, but he ducked into the alcove and continued spinning threads of electrical energy in a rhythm. It erupted into a fireball, which he hurled our way.
He must’ve played baseball. I barely had time to twist my hand through nullify spell. A ring poured into existence around my outstretched palm, and the fireball dissipated harmlessly.
The other apprentice’s arrow flew a lot faster than the fireball did. It took Ana in the shoulder. Farrukh steadied her before she could fall into shit creek.
Heather, meanwhile, pressed her hand to the stone wall just before us. It glowed yellow for a second before a cubic area melted into water. It poured out of its niche, but Heather was already gesturing with her other hand, and when she stuck her other finger into the torrent, it froze back into a stone barrier. We hit the deck behind it as another arrow flew past.
It would be a tough shot with the bow, but a good fireball lob could bypass our cover. I prepared nullify spell again, mindful of my mana bar sloshing at 20/100. Electricity crackled.
Curse that mage’s accuracy. I rocked back, grabbed the ball out of the air, then threw myself supine as the archer took her chance. The arrow flew right over my face.
Farrukh leapt up and let fly. He dropped back down as his arrow chinked against stone.
I peered at my companions, all lying prone except for Ana, who was on her side to keep the arrow in her shoulder clear of the floor. I didn’t have time to check out Heather’s butt. “We can’t keep this up. They have the better position.”
“We have the better archer,” Farrukh said, then leapt up, weaved past an arrow, and issued his reply. He ducked again, cursing under his breath. “If they didn’t have that alcove, they’d both be dead.”
“But they do,” I said, then sat up and caught another fireball as it arced toward us. 60/100.
“Then we need to attack,” Heather said. “Pav, do you have redirect mana ready?”
“Sixty of 100. But as soon as they see me jump up, they’ll take cover.”
“Then I’ll bait them. I can take whatever they throw my way. Get your mana up.”
I didn’t like seeing her get hurt but saw no other options. Two quick nullify momentums brought my mana to a bubbling 100. “Fine. Farrukh, ready?”
He nodded. I began symbolling redirect mana.
It was my least-used spell, partly because there were about fifteen symbols in it. But I had them memorized, and a few seconds later, I was only a press of the palm away. “Now!”
We jumped up and saw a fireball flying at us. Heat radiated against my face, but Heather was already glowing. She roared as the fireball splashed against her bear chest. Arrow thunked into flesh, but she continued her charge. The apprentices ducked away from Farrukh’s arrow, and as the archer stepped out to shoot Heather again, I thrust my palm out, ring and pinky fingers bent, and the familiar ring formed before me.
Fluid mana torrented out through the circle. It shot straight down the corridor and splashed over the archer, hurling her back. Her skull cracked hard.
Maybe she was dead, or unconscious, or concussed, or maybe she was about to get back up and keep shooting at us. I sprinted forward.
I heard the fire mage curse, and light emanated from the alcove, where he wove another fireball. But seeing me and a bear barreling toward him broke his nerve.
Bears run faster than humans. He hadn’t gotten twenty paces before Heather’s claws tore into his back and sent him sprawling. He rolled and reached for his sword, but Heather slashed his arm. She growled while I caught up. My breath was gone, and the air was rancid. Still, I managed to say, “What do we do now?”
The archer wasn’t moving, and the blood pool around her head was dripping over the edge into the waste. “Kill a player: +5.” No death was pretty, but at least this one was quick. I still couldn’t shake the shrill screams of the recycled apprentice from my head.
Ana and Farrukh were moments behind us. “Are you prepared to renounce the Enlightened?” Ana asked.
He’d tried to run, but steel is a strange trait. It manifests at the worst times. He met her eyes and shook his head.
“Really, dude? This is the hill you die on?” I asked. “I guess we’ll kill you, like we did those American girls.”
“If it weren’t for Edwin, people like you would have killed me a long time ago,” he said. “I’d rather die with my dignity intact.”
“You turned and ran!” Farrukh barked. “Don’t you want to live?”
Ana, Heather, and I had seen this same steel before, in Guilherme and Kim. But we needed him to report Troy and Linsey’s deaths. I’d kill him later. “Reconsider your life,” I said.
As Farrukh hog-tied the Enlightened, Heather tore the arrow out of Ana’s shoulder. She snaked her other arm beneath her armor and pressed a rag to the wound. I suspected that, had she not been wearing the mail, the arrow would have done a lot more damage. As it was, it wasn’t bothering her enough to stop her from taking the apprentices’ purses.
Farrukh eyed Ana, then the fallen archer’s bow. He tried to draw it but only got halfway. “No wonder it could punch through chainmail. She was stronger than she looked.”
“She cast some spell at the start of combat,” I said, remembering the red glow around her hands. “Maybe that was it.”
We returned to the alcove, where a ladder led to a sturdy wooden trapdoor. I went first, symbolling nullify momentum just in case, before throwing my weight up and heaving the trapdoor open.
8
I emerged into the burnt husk of the rebels’ base.
The walls were caked with soot, except for where they had been wiped clear and painted in green patterns. Yao’s alarm cantrip. He’d receive a notification that someone had entered this area.
“Hurry,” I said. Ana climbed out, looking haggard. “Yao’s rigged the place. We need to get out of here, and I don’t think going back under the city is a good idea.”
“We’ll have to take our chances with the Lance,” Ana said. Her eyes were hard, fear bound with an iron leash. She gave Heather a hand, then Farrukh emerged, frowning.
“Maybe some of them escaped,” I said.
Some of Ana’s hurt slipped out. “It’s my fault. I could’ve protected them.”
“They weren’t your responsibility,” I said. “They knew what they were risking, with or without you. Now come on. Maybe we can sneak out through the port.”
I’d expected stepping out into the moonlight would calm Farrukh, after the claustrophobic caves, but he was still tense as he flipped his hood up.
I followed suit. Good thing I’d abandoned my sig
nature green for this unremarkable color. Ana had her chainmail and helmet. Only Heather would be immediately recognizable, and she’d had the foresight to don newbie grays.
The half moon painted the multicultural town grayscale where blue veins didn’t glow. Taverns bustled while shops lay silent. Not many people were out in the streets, and a gang of armored, hooded, and, in Heather’s case, beautiful adventurers would stand out.
The market was empty, the stalls abandoned, the wares stored away. We hurried past blocky stone warehouses, toward the wall and the docks beyond.
A pair of Lancers with crossbows flanked the closed gate. “Hold it!” one of them yelled. “Remove your hoods!”
We drew up short. Absame had said last time that the Lancers were to shoot on sight. But someone had to know about the orcs, and Absame was the lesser of two evils. At least he actually seemed to care about the welfare of Bluehearth’s citizens.
Ana caught her breath before cementing our decision. “We have important news! We need to talk to Absame, right now!”
One of them sprinted off. The other kept his crossbow aimed at Ana.
She scoffed. “Point that thing away from me. You’re not going to use it, not if you value your life.”
He complied. We could’ve walked out. But Ana made no move.
The Citadel loomed over us on the right, towering in the nook before the two rivers joined. Absame came from that direction, along with Emily and a few spare goons.
“I told you to stay out of my city,” he boomed. “Tell me why I shouldn’t keep my word and shoot you now.”
“An army of orcs is coming,” Ana said. “We believe they intend to attack the city.”
Absame didn’t reply. His Lancers fidgeted.
“Like the ones that attacked your soldiers at Tyrant’s Vale,” I added. Didn’t seem to help.
Eventually, he said, “This is dire news. But I can see by the blood on your clothes that it comes at a cost. How many people did you kill to get here?”
“The Enlightened are your enemies too,” Ana said.
“Edwin is my enemy, not those who turned to him for protection. They will soon be of my flock. So you have murdered my own, and I will treat you as such.”
Farrukh stepped forward. “And you and yours have never laid a hand on the Enlightened? At Tyrant’s Vale, I saw you fight. Your hands are no cleaner than ours.”
“What I did was for the greater good,” Absame said. “Every death weighs on me, but each served a purpose. Meanwhile, you kill wantonly and without discrimination.”
“We only kill when we have to,” Ana seethed. “Is risking our lives to warn you of an impending invasion not good enough for you?”
“Did you not call upon your rebel friends first, before trying to escape?”
“What do you know of them?”
“They are no more. I defeated them last night.”
“You?” Ana barked.
“You bastard!” Farrukh advanced on him. The Lancers raised crossbows.
I lunged and caught Farrukh by the shoulder. “They’ll shoot you dead.”
“They were our friends!” He surged, and I wrapped him around the chest.
“He’s not worth it,” I hissed. “This is a mistake.”
He stopped straining but kept shouting. “Why?”
Absame hadn’t flinched. “They were mobilizing against me. I did what had to be done to keep the city intact. The last thing we need is more infighting, especially now.”
“The city? What a petty excuse! You’re nothing but a warlord!”
Absame flinched that time. “You don’t know what you speak of. What I do, I do for my citizens, not for myself.”
“They were citizens too!” Farrukh shouted.
“If they had left me any other choice, I would have given them all the chance to join me.” But he still looked shaken.
“Well, I’m not giving you a choice either!” Farrukh shouted. “I’m a dissident too, aren’t I? Come at me, unless you’re the kind of coward who makes his sycophants do the dirty work!”
Absame went rigid, then offered his spear to Emily. She refused it. “Don’t do this,” she urged him. “Don’t prove him right.”
He hesitated.
Farrukh said, “Come on, warlord, show some spine!”
Absame threw down his spear and got in Farrukh’s face. He was taller, and wider, but Farrukh’s eyes were rocks. I gave Emily a pleading look, but her face had gone resolute. Her message was plain: we should’ve stayed away.
“I could kill you, and all your friends, right now,” Absame said. “But I don’t like killing. Now get out of my city and never come back.”
“The tyrant hides behind false nobility,” Farrukh said.
Absame threw hands. Farrukh slipped past the first punch and sent one in return. It caught Absame in the cheek, but the massive man barely recoiled. His next strike clobbered Farrukh on the side of the helmet and knocked him to the ground. Absame planted a foot on his head before he could recover.
“I should kill you,” he said.
“Then do it!” Farrukh shouted. “Kill someone who would defend this city, ‘your’ city, for speaking against you!”
Absame paused. “I’ve shed enough blood today. Open the gate.” A Lancer moved to obey. The gate creaked ajar. “But Azure Lance, heed me! Any soldier caught engaging any of these four in anything other than combat will be dishonorably discharged.”
“I have a better idea,” Edwin said. We wheeled.
Edwin, Yao, the apprentice we’d left trussed in the sewer, and a coterie of Enlightened had arrived. Edwin’s blue-trimmed red robes were wet, soiled, and torn, and his blonde hair hung lank and grimy, but he was smiling. The blue streak down his throat, the mark of a Storm, glowed. Yao beside him was stalwart as ever.
Immediately the Lancers imposed themselves between us and them, a bristling wall of spears, shields, and crossbows. An Enlightened with a broad shield braced himself before Edwin.
There were more Lancers than Enlightened, but Edwin was a Storm. I didn’t know who had the edge. Last time, his lightning had put Absame in the mud, and only our intervention had saved him from execution. I didn’t plan on making that mistake again.
Farrukh was beneath Absame’s boot, Ana was slumped with exhaustion, and the lotus poison still tugged at me. If it came to blows, we’d be out the door.
Edwin said, “These four have killed my apprentices. Hand them over, and none of you will go down with them.”
“Back off, Edwin,” Absame chanted. The baritone set my teeth on edge. Emily had once told me that his rhythm ensured his uncanny accuracy with flash burn. But he wasn’t making the symbols yet. “These four are exiles. They won’t trouble us again.” More Lancers were arriving but were hesitant to intervene. Yao began pacing a wide circle, as if examining us from every angle, his sword sheathed. I fought to stand tall, to not shrink away from his stony gaze.
“You seriously think they won’t come back?” Edwin said. “They’re lying murderers!”
I scowled. My companions didn’t lie. Often.
“Then we’ll kill them when they do,” Absame said. “Do not test the might of the Azure Lance.”
Edwin looked like he was itching to start casting. His retinue less so. Several sported minor wounds — presumably from the boss fight. Would Edwin be low on mana? Was he just stalling for mana regeneration? Had the Recycler dropped an Artifact?
Yao was now on the other side of us from Edwin. Not exactly a subtle flank. Heather’s stare could torch ants. “You,” she seethed. “You’ve heard the rumors he’s spreading, and you say nothing?”
He kept pacing. His feet were bare and damp, leaving dark prints on the undulating stone of the street. Just looking at him made my missing hand itch for a dagger.
“I saw you, the day he attacked me,” Heather continued. “You weren’t laughing. So why? Why do you follow him?”
The wrong questions to ask. We couldn’t understand sign lan
guage — no point to anything beyond a yes or no. Yao didn’t even bother signing, only frowned and kept walking.
“Edwin, there’s something you need to know!” I said. Everyone looked at me. I pointed at the apprentice cowering behind him, who we’d spared in the sewers. “Your man there turned and ran when he faced her,” jerking my head at Heather. “But those American girls gave us no choice.”
He squinted. “Grit, from them? Color me surprised. But that means you’ve cost me promising apprentices.”
“Promising tools!” I said. “You only care about what they could’ve done for you!”
“Strength and loyalty are what make a worthy apprentice into an adept,” Edwin said. “Those are the traits in Yao that saved me when I was betrayed. Not so proud now, are you?”
Farrukh growled from the street. Guess Edwin hadn’t forgotten that double-crossing. Yao resumed his place with the other Enlightened, his circle complete. What had been the point, if not to flank us?
“And strength is what was lacking in all the apprentices you’ve murdered,” Edwin continued. “But who’s rank 1?”
“They’d be alive if they hadn’t been your apprentices!” I shouted.
“Me! Edwin Casper, the Mage of Bluehearth, the strongest player in the game!” His next words were pensive and directed toward me. “You know, I respected your eagerness to sacrifice yourself for your friends. You tried to make up for your weakness with loyalty.
“Now you’ve deluded yourself into thinking you’re strong, but beneath that duelist veneer, you’re still a weakling. I can see it in your eyes. You murder my apprentices with sword tricks and bullshit magic, but you know that one day your tricks will fail, and you’ll catch a sword in the guts. You might not have thrown yourself on it, but the result will be the same. And with you out of the way, your friends will be next. They’re idiots for relying on you.”
“You’re wrong,” Heather called back. Then, to me, “Don’t listen to him.”
I tried to ignore his barbs, but he always knew the exact wrong thing to say. Was I that transparent?
