by J. R. Ford
Orcs swarmed over the valley like fermids. Some wore gleaming chain or plate mail, others dull leathers.
A screech pierced the valley, and the orcs turned west. I don’t think they saw us, half-concealed as we were. We turned as well.
Black soot marred her dress and skin. She ran with a limp, blood bright on her leg. She held out a hand, and though I couldn’t see, I knew the four shapes it made: two for fire, a third for water, and finally the finger-out execute symbol. As the dragon-flame enveloped her it morphed to water, sweeping her off her feet to splash into a spring pool below.
The orcs mobilized, going for bows and spears. Whether to repel the dragon or capture Heather, not yet clear.
Ana cursed. “What do we do?”
Hypocrite that I am, I charged down the slope.
Heather had descended into the grave’s shadow for me. It was time to repay the favor.
Ana, and even Farrukh, to his credit, leapt after me. The spring where Heather floated wasn’t far — only a minute’s sprint — but the orcs were closer than we were. She tried to swim to shore, but her movements were weak, and six orcs ringed the water in moments. The spring was about thirty feet across, too far for the orcs to spear her without getting wet, but an easy range for a competent archer. Its waters were crystal clear, save the cloud of soot around Heather, but I couldn’t see the bottom.
The rest of the orcs were preoccupied with the dragon, which saw the valley as a plate of orc sashimi ready for searing.
A squadron of orcs let a volley fly. Most of the arrows plinked off hard silver scales, but a couple tore their way through the thin flesh of the dragon’s wings. It hissed its ire, and flame issued. The orcs scattered, but not all escaped. They shrieked as they burned.
None of them noticed the three battered humans sprinting for their companion.
We reached the hilltop overlooking the spring quickly, but adrenaline is no substitute for breath. All three of us were panting hard, Ana especially beneath her heavy chain. Heather was treading water in the center of the spring, and though two of the orcs had arrows nocked, they seemed content to let her tire herself out.
Why? What use could orcs have with keeping a human alive? Perhaps they thought they could wring intelligence out of her, despite the language gulf.
Our eyes met, and for an instant, hope bloomed in hers. Then the orcs noticed us.
A few wore uniforms with no armor beneath, a mistake. Farrukh’s arrow took one of their archers in the chest. It splashed into the spring in a gout of blood. I rushed down the slope, roaring, pings already ringing in my head. My fingers felt like lightning compared to the burnt sluggishness of yesterday. I jerked to the side to avoid an arrow, and Farrukh’s response put the archer down.
The first of the spear-orcs ran to meet me but hesitated before my null circle. Too easy to nullify its thrust, pull the point off-line, and close in. A hard left hook put my dagger into its side through its leather cuirass. I drew my rapier to face the next.
Was this feeling of invincibility what Ana felt, charging into a group of enemies? I feinted left, then right, the orc waggling its spear ineffectively. When the true attack came, its spear clattered against my cup-hilt as my rapier’s point went into its throat.
I would’ve died there, from an orc coming for my exposed right flank, had Ana not intercepted it with a brutal flash.
The final orc had a sword and was clad head-to-toe in gapless plate mail. I had just enough time to notice familiar blue circuitry along the blade before it struck Ana’s in a flash. Ana leapt back, startled, and the orc pressed its advantage. She met its counterassault with vigor, their blades bursting with light. As it noticed me circling for a backstab, it backed off, put a palm out, and poised its sword to strike into the spring.
The meaning was clear. Back off, or the girl gets it. Ana had electrocuted ten fermids at once with the same technique, outside Riyaasat.
The orc raised its visor. Its features were feminine, its skin an Atlantic cerulean. It grunted something none of us understood and pointed at the ground. More orcs were closing in, drawn by the thunder and shouting.
Ana looked at the orcs, then longingly at Heather. Her words were hard. “We have to go. They’ve made it clear they’d rather capture her than kill her. But we can’t let ourselves be captured too.”
I hated every word, half for their meaning and half for the sense they made. Heather’s yellow eyes were wide and fearful.
“I’ll come back for you,” I choked out.
“We’ll come back,” Ana repeated, even as she took my arm and led me away. “I promise!”
16
All things have limits. Sometimes one hundred percent is ten short.
My hundred were spent, and they hadn’t been enough. “Try” is a word the pitiful use to make failure taste better.
“We tried our best. Now come on,” Ana said. Several orcs were in pursuit. Farrukh whirled and shot, hopefully inspiring some second thoughts.
“There’s nowhere to go,” I said. “In the mountains, they’d just chase us down.”
Ana pointed up at Vedanth Durg, its circuitry unlit but reflecting bright sunlight. “Where better to defend from than a castle?”
Recent traumas paled in comparison to the dread twisting my gut at the sight of that castle. I could smell smoke and fried fermid as surely as if I were back there, damming the horde. The memory made my breath catch in my throat. “Won’t they already occupy it, and the village too?”
“Most of the village seems to be mobilizing,” Ana said, as we ducked into a gully. The same place I’d left her in the throes of her transformation, a month that seemed like a year ago.
If she could face this old nightmare with determination, I could. If Heather’s life depended on it, I could at least get over myself.
We raced up the gully, all out of breath, guilt constricting my chest. We skittered past the roaring waterfall pool, letting the cool spray wash over us.
No orcs were posted at the cave entrance. One peek inside told us why.
The entire cavern was writhing black with gastroliths. One touch, and we had about eight hours before our legs fused together. A few hours after that and we’d be slugs ourselves.
I remembered seeing a sluggy corridor when we’d come to claim the Storm’s Breath. In Vedanth’s absence, they must’ve annexed the entire place as their new domain. Between shiny black bodies, the rock was coated in slime.
The antidote was twofold: nullify spell, then reverse transformation. We would need Heather.
Grunts from behind. A group of orcs was charging from the village.
Iron grit urged me forward. The curse wouldn’t be an issue, because we’d rescue Heather soon, and she could cure us. And — though I hated myself for even entertaining the idea — if we couldn’t rescue her, death was no ill fate.
The thought banished any pretense that she’d made me a better person. At least my hatred would be borne by my own shoulders. There was a kind of false nobility to it.
But if I failed again, I would’ve condemned not just Heather, but Ana and Farrukh as well. That didn’t bother me as much as it should have. I had no problem betting their lives on my own dice roll.
“Heather will cure us,” I insisted, and began pushing through the gastroliths. I moved quickly, lest one probe me with a razor tongue.
Ana waded in behind me, cursing. Guess we all had old fears to wrestle today. Farrukh was silent but complied. The slime squelched beneath our feet.
I looked back when we were beyond reach of the orcs. I almost saw pity on their sea-colored faces, even on those drawing their bows.
I yelped and ducked into the press of gastroliths, then started crawling, using my dagger to ward off hungry mouths. I wriggled behind a ridge and regained my feet. A fallen boulder had nearly sealed off the alcove where stairs led to the castle proper, but there was room to shimmy past on our bellies. We emerged unharmed, if goopy.
“You’d better be right, Pav,
” Ana muttered. “As soon as my legs start to fuse again, I’m logging out.”
I nodded, her words weighing upon me, pushing me into the ground. As if my self-doubt could be any more crushing. It made ascent difficult.
The ceilingless entrance arena was empty. The stairs continued up the wall to a doorway. The massive gates opposite stood shut. Sunlight bathed the scratched white tiles.
We trudged up the stairs and past the door. The corridor beyond had no walls, only pillars supporting a stone roof. A torrent splashed against stone cubes.
We all hosed down. The stream, though mostly blocked, still packed a satisfying punch. Farrukh and I stripped to our underwear, and I smiled when I caught Ana making eyes at Farrukh’s hairy barrel of a torso. Then she snapped her fingers at him.
“Hey! Don’t think that because you didn’t abandon us, you get to stop contributing! Help me get this chainmail off.”
He looked annoyed. “Fine. How?”
“I’m going to bend over, let my arms hang, and shimmy it off. Make sure it doesn’t get caught anywhere.”
She made sure her hair was tucked under her quilted cap before bending at the waist until practically touching her toes. The motion stretched her trousers tight against her legs. She wiggled her arms and torso, causing ripples in the chainmail as it rustled down into a pile around her hands. Farrukh did an all right job of helping the chainmail along while failing not to stare at her ass. Not that I was succeeding.
I couldn’t completely scrub the stickiness from my body or clothes but felt a lot fresher afterwards. I washed my hair, then combed through it with my fingers, trying to untangle the knots. I’d lost my comb with the rest of my pack. Over a month without a haircut had it long, bangs heavy with water hanging in front of my eyes.
We wrung our clothes out over the edge. I watched the valley below for sign of Heather. The dragon had been grounded with lassos, and more ropes were being tied to restrain it. A rope muzzle choked spurts of flame. A barge loaded with oxen floated toward it.
Farrukh put his last spare tunic on. Ana, sensing my reluctance to don the damp and slimy clothes, tossed me one of her old maroon blouses and a pair of grimy white trousers. Farrukh fastened my leather cuirass over them. The back was barely holding together after my tumble, but the chest and shoulder plates seemed sound enough to resist a blade.
Once she was dressed, Ana brushed her armor, working angles to get the slime out.
“Maybe we should leave it,” I said. “You can put on a brave face all you want, but I see the way it weighs on you.”
Ana shook her head. “We’re not going to get Heather back without a fight. I’ll bear whatever burdens improve our chances.”
Farrukh, looking disgusted, took a knife to the slimy sleeves of his tunic, and discarded his coated mantle and trousers entirely. I nullified the spells on each of us, so all we needed was Heather’s salvation.
One last look over the edge. The shower had me feeling fresh, but no water could wash away my heavy dread.
Then I spotted her. The oxen had disembarked and were tied to the barge, upon which Heather lay trussed. A team of fifty-odd orcs were struggling to drag the dragon into the space in the middle of the barge.
“Where are they taking her?” I wondered aloud.
We watched in tense silence as the barge, its living cargo loaded, began to crawl back upriver. The oxen plowed forward with measured resolve.
“Back where they came from,” Ana said.
It took the three of us to push the main gate open. It led to a wide stairway, curving down to a tiled landing that overlooked the mouth of the pass. I peered over the edge, toward where the barge pulled Heather, the dragon, and twentyish orcs upriver.
To our left, a square walkway had been transmuted from the rock, leading up the pass. Time had eroded the sharp edges, and mosses clung to the ceiling. One side overlooked the river. Of course there was no handrail, but at least the stone was dead flat. Circuitry was dim along the cliff edge facing the canyon.
The human body is remarkable. I’d spent one hundred percent, and one shower later, I was hurrying along good as new. It helped that I was pursued by a slug curse and an interminable sense of uselessness. If I walked fast enough, they wouldn’t have time to root me.
Farrukh looked dour and matched my pace. “Come on,” he said to Ana, who was huffing along in her chainmail. “We have about seven hours before none of us can walk. We have to catch that boat.”
“Cut her some slack, it’s not her fault.” Then, deflecting, “We made the best decision we could have.”
“At least with the orcs, we would’ve earned some points.”
“Before dying,” I said.
“And we have better odds now?” he asked. “It doesn’t look like we’re going to make it out of this one. I’ve half a mind to go down there and rack up as many points as I can before I go. I doubt it’ll be enough for tuition at a real university, but I could probably buy some credits in an online course.”
“Will you shut up?” Ana panted. “We don’t need talk like that right now. We’re getting her back. I promised.”
“What happened to ‘We can talk about our feelings, even if they’re negative’?” I said.
They ignored me. “We can get the drop on them, literally,” Farrukh said, eyeing the barge. “I bet we’d take down ten before they got us.”
No way could we take down all the orcs at once. But what other hope did we have?
I said, “And then you’re dead. No more points. But if we pull this off, you have all the time in the world to rack up more.”
“Pull what off?”
“Tonight,” I said, “we catch them sleeping. Grab Heather and get out, killing any of them that tries to stop us.”
The human body is remarkable, but all things have limits. Our hurried jog weaned to a slow jog, then an anxious walk. Vines of dread snaked around my ankles and tried to pull me into the earth.
Ana stayed beside me, her tenacity driving me forward. I still didn’t understand how she did that. It didn’t make progress easier, but it made it possible.
The barge disappeared behind a twist in the narrow canyon passage. My heart lurched. The feeling spurred me forward, at least until we rounded the corner and there they were, still going upriver at a pace marginally faster than our plod. The pass twisted several more times over the next few hours, each less wrenching than the first, even as the distance between us and the barge grew. So when I turned one corner convinced they’d be far ahead of us, I stopped in my tracks.
A team of orcs were tying the boat to a dock in the shadow of a fortress. From the distance, I could see no detail, only the shifting forms of orcs in their brown and gray armor. The fort was three stories high, with perches overhanging the river garrisoned by archers. Aside from the garrison and barge unloaders, I didn’t see any others. I supposed, with control over Tyrant’s Vale, this fortress didn’t need to be heavily defended.
Twilight had blanketed the pass, but sunlight painted the open lands beyond the fortress in autumnal colors.
We trudged to where the path ended. A stone room had been transmuted out above the fortress.
“Wait for midnight,” Ana said. “Jump down and cut our way to the dungeons.”
“We might not have to,” I said, pointing. Heather was being forced into a cage dangling over the river. Her hands were tied.
“What then?” Farrukh asked. “We can’t get back up here.”
“The barge,” Ana said. “Let the current handle things.”
“Handle us right into more orcs,” Farrukh said.
“Then we can cut the dragon free. Distract them.”
Distracting them with two tons of angry lizard had almost worked last time. I didn’t have any better ideas.
“What about the Knucklebones?” I asked.
“Maybe they’re in there,” Farrukh said. “A reward for the first players to take an orc stronghold.”
“You really think so?”
Ana said.
She obviously wanted him to say yes, but he said nothing. I chimed in, “It’s possible. But freeing Heather is the priority.”
“Agreed,” they said in unison.
Ana laid out her bedroll for a quick nap. I nudged her. “You good?”
Her eyes were red and droopy. “Good.”
“You’re not a convincing liar. I thought we agreed we could talk about our feelings.”
“I’m good,” she insisted. “I can still walk. I can still fight.”
“It must’ve taken some courage to face those slugs again.”
She exhaled, soft and slow. “Easier knowing we’ll be cured shortly.”
“You promised. I’m glad we can rely on you.” I’d proven time and again I wasn’t up to the task.
She was quiet. “Can you? If I’d listened to Farrukh and set a trap…or even before then, if I’d listened to Heather about helping the rebels, we could be killing Edwin right now. Either way we’d be facing better odds. Every dice roll so far has only led to more blood on my hands.”
“Don’t be stupid.” The blame was obviously mine.
She shook herself. “You’re right. Self-pity will get me nowhere. What I need is some rest.”
I knew better than to think I’d get any sleep, so I practiced my left hooks while waiting for Farrukh to finish his prayers and sign-off. He patted the ground beside his prayer tarp.
I tried contemplating life, the universe, girls, and our foes. Nothing seemed to be in alignment for me, so I opted for conversation instead.
“Thanks for coming with us,” I said. “When Heather needed you — when we needed you — you didn’t even hesitate. Ana was wrong. You’re no mercenary.”
“Nope. And now I’m about to die.”
“We can do this,” I said, hoping I sounded more resolute than desperate.
“Wanting something to be true doesn’t make it so.” Farrukh hung his head. “I’ve been so stupid, Pav. Why do I say the things that I do? These could be our last hours together, and all I do is antagonize her.”
I was surprised that, even after all this, he wasn’t contemplating the rest of his life, his education, career, anything except for Ana. When evening prayer had drained the day away, all that remained was a teenager no better with girls than I.
