by James Hunter
I felt a cold chill wash through my belly as shivers raced along my arms and legs. He was right. I’d been so preoccupied about whether we could do it, that I hadn’t even considered how long it would take. This was it then. Despite everything I’d done, everything I’d suffered, we were sunk. Otto was going to be waiting outside Rowanheath with a platoon of mercs and no cannons. We could always push the attack, but by then Carrera would likely be preparing for an attack of his own—not to mention, we’d have to pay the mercs for all that extra time, and those guys didn’t come cheap.
“You oughta just stick ol’ Vlad in that god-awful mine,” Cutter muttered. “The one with all those bastard shadow-beasties.”
“Wait, what?” I said, pinning him in place with a hard stare.
“Those mines,” he said, folding his arms and quirking an eyebrow at me as though it should’ve been completely self-evident. “The time’s all wonky in there, eh? Time moves faster, so you should just have ’em set up shop down in the mines. Might work.”
I bounced up from my seat and pulled the thief into a sudden bear hug, which caught him completely off guard.
“Hey now, no funny business,” he protested, shoving at me half-heartedly. “I’ll shank you in the kidney if you don’t lay off, Jack,” he threatened after another moment. He was probably joking, but it was hard to tell with Cutter sometimes, so I let him go and held him at arm’s length.
“You’re a genius, Cutter. Absolutely brilliant.”
“Bout time you recognized my invaluable support to this little enterprise of ours,” he replied, smug as a cat with a dead mouse.
I chuckled and dropped back into my seat. “What would we do without you?” I asked, giving him an eyeroll.
“Apologies,” Vlad offered tentatively, “but I am very confused. Cannons? Mines? And who is this Sophia? It seems, perhaps, there is something I am missing, yes?”
“Come on, Vladie-Boy,” Cutter said, jerking his head toward the door. “No rest for you, I’m afraid. But no worries, I’ll see you set up right as rain, and I’ll even do my damnedest to try and explain this whole shitestorm in a bit more detail.”
The Russian shot me a questioning should-I-really-go-with-this-guy look.
I nodded at him. “If you need anything, Vlad—anything at all—just let Cutter know. He’s a decent guy.” I eyed the bloody thief. “Sort of,” I amended.
Cutter snorted and escorted a confused-looking Vlad from the room. Well, that was one problem down. “Okay, now what’s this about the Spider Queen?” I asked, already feeling a throbbing headache build behind my eyes. Administrative work was definitely not for me.
Abby carefully reached into her robes and tossed a cloudy orb, which disturbingly resembled a gigantic spider’s eye, onto the table. “One of those nasty creepy-crawlies delivered this earlier in the day,” she explained. “Some sort of communication device. The only problem is, the Queen flatly refuses to deal with anyone except you. She’s a terrifying, infinitely frustrating monster.” She stared daggers at the cloudy orb as though it had somehow personally offended her. “So, if you could kindly give her a call and set things straight, it sure would be appreciated.”
I took another deep sip of coffee, then plucked the orb from the table with a twinge of apprehension. It tingled in my hand—a slight buzz that felt like a building static charge. I focused on the orb for a second, willing it to work, to speak. For a long beat, nothing happened—I just sat there staring at the ball like a complete idiot—but then the tingle intensified and changed until the crystal felt warm in my palm. Almost hot. It began to glow with an opalescent shimmer, and suddenly I could see the Queen sitting on her throne, clad in her humanoid disguise.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say she looked pleased to see me, though it was hard to tell—her proportions and features were all strangely distorted by the viewing orb.
“Troublesome fly,” she buzzed at me with a dip of her head. “I’m pleased to see you back in the world of the living and no worse for the wear. Perhaps even a bit wiser as a result of our last encounter.”
“Queen Lowyth,” I replied, shooting for professional, though her presence—even from a distance—had me on edge. “I understand you’ve been giving my Faction Commander a tough time. She’s fully authorized to conduct all faction business, so anything you have to say to me, you can just as easily say to her.”
“Nonsense, troublesome fly. I am a Queen, I don’t deal with subordinates.” She crossed her legs primly, and carefully folded her talon-tipped hands together.
“Abby is not a subordinate, and this point is nonnegotiable,” I replied flatly. “Look, Lowyth, I’ve had a very long night and I’m too tired to beat around the bush. That sacrificial stunt you pulled, I let it slide, but I’m not going to let you walk all over me again. If you don’t want to deal with Abby, then you can crawl back into your hole and patiently wait for every warrior and traveler in Yunnam to swarm your lair and turn your children into charred barbeque. Do we understand each other?”
I expected the Spider Queen to be angry—to absolutely flip her lid—but instead she offered me a coy, fang-filled smile and dipped her head in acceptance. “I see your strength,” she murmured, the words formulaic and rehearsed. “And any being capable of earning such respect from my worthy adversary, must be a worthy adversary in their own right. Now, I am busy, so speak your need, troublesome fly.”
“Spiderkin troops,” I blurted out, “the ones you promised me. I need thirty of them—the best you’ve got—and they all need to be able to scale walls.”
“Of course,” the Queen replied. “And where should I send my lovely children?” she asked, unperturbed by my request.
“There’s a staging area just outside Yunnam’s Southern Gate. Please have them there by 2 P.M., and make sure they know to stay outside the village proper—I’d hate for them to start a riot with their presence.”
The Queen sneered, but nodded. “Until we speak again,” she hissed. The orb flashed and was plain opaque glass once more.
“Charming lady,” Abby offered, scowling at the lifeless hunk of glass. “We’re definitely going to need to keep an eye on her—I’ve got the feeling she’s a poisoned dagger just waiting for a target.”
“Just so,” the chief replied with dip of his chin. “But for the time being she is a dagger we are wielding. Now”—he paused, lips pursed as he eyed Abby and me in turn—“I think it is time for the two of you to rest. Tonight is going to be very hectic, and you two will need your wits about you if this endeavor is to succeed. So go. Eat. Bathe. Sleep. I can handle things for the time being.”
“But you need sleep, too,” Abby protested, voice boiling with misplaced motherly concern. “You’ve got a big part to play, Chief Kolle. Maybe bigger than us.”
“Nonsense,” he said, smiling sagely and waving away her protest. “I’ll rest yet, but I’m an old man. We need far less sleep than the young, this is a thing everyone knows. Besides, I don’t think I could sleep”—he reached over and picked up a half-full cup of coffee—“not with this miracle tea sprinting through my veins like a wildfire. I will hold down the Keep. Please, go.” He stood, gently pulling Abby to her feet, then dismissed us with a curt shooing gesture.
I, for one, wasn’t going to protest. I waited for Abby to join me, draped my arm around her shoulders, then lurched off toward my master suite and a well-deserved rest.
THIRTY-ONE: Mount Up
We stood in a thick copse of pine trees, the ground coated in deep shade as the sun stretched red and gold fingers across the horizon. A few minutes before sunset gave way to night. Our time was almost officially up, and I had no doubt that Carrera would ping me soon, asking for my response. Would I turn myself over like a good little war criminal or would he be forced to hunt me down and raze Yunnam to the ground? As I looked at the dirt-smudged, hard-worn faces scattered amongst the trees, I was excited to give him my answer: a giant middle finger in the form of a small army perched withi
n spitting distance of his walls.
This group was just one of four scattered around Rowanheath, all waiting for my signal.
Most of the warriors here with me were hired thugs.
A mercenary squad run by none other than Morgan Sellsword—a Warlock I’d beaten and taken prisoner in Carrera’s restricted zone. To me, there was a certain irony that the very mercenary originally hired to power-level Carrera would now be instrumental in his downfall. My eyes skipped past him and landed on the six Arcane Shadow Cannons manned by a double fistful of our loyal faction members—mostly tanks, but a few engineers capable of operating and repairing the weapons. Those cannons were beautiful things.
Hulking black-metal beasts, on enormous spiked wheels.
I’d never been in the military myself, but I’d seen plenty of heavy artillery growing up near Camp Pendleton, and these babies had a striking resemblance to old-school howitzers. Vlad and our engineer crew had done a truly bang-up job—if I ever saw Sophia again in the flesh, I’d have to give her my sincerest thanks. As impressive as the weapons were, though, I knew they’d never come close to breaching the walls; they just didn’t have they muscle for it. For that, we’d need bulky siege engines, which were too big to port. Still, they’d wreak havoc on troops in the open, and they’d also make for one heck of a distraction.
I mean, I knew they couldn’t breach the walls, but I was betting Carrera didn’t. All he’d see were giant guns blasting cannonballs of shadow magic at his city.
“It’s time,” Abby said, giving my hand a tight squeeze. “You can do this, Jack,” she whispered into my ear before planting a peck on my cheek. “We can do this. It’s a good plan. It’ll work.”
I grinned at her and tried to ignore the quiver in my hands. Yeah, we could do this. Maybe. Possibly.
I picked Morgan Sellsword out from the crowd; his plain brown robes, golden complexion, and gnarled staff—burning with intricate swirls of amber light—made him easy to find. I caught his eye with a quick wave, then gave him a nod, letting him know it was time to get this show on the road for better or worse. The Warlock wheeled around and barked out a few quick commands and suddenly the milling mercs were forming up in loose semicircles, every eye fixed on me and Abby. No pressure or anything.
“Well, this is it,” I said without preamble. “In a few minutes the fighting will start, and hopefully in a few hours’ time, we’ll have done what it took months for the empire to do. We’ll be the proud owners of Rowanheath. This will be the first major blow to the empire—and that’s something we can all be proud of.”
My words seemed to linger in the air, to weigh down on everyone.
“We don’t fight for pride,” Morgan said, breaking the tension. “As long as your gold is good, we’ll fight a host of geriatric grandmothers.” That earned a few lighthearted chuckles from the assembled sellswords. “Hells, for the right price,” he added, “I’ll fight my own grandmother, Gods rest her soul. Your gold is good, so you need not worry about our fighting spirit. Now, what would you have of us?”
“Right,” I said, rubbing my hands together, feeling oddly comforted by his words. These men were professionals, I reminded myself. This is what they did for a living. “Well hopefully,” I continued, “you won’t actually be doing much fighting. The real battle is going to take place in the Keep, high above the city, but you lot are going to draw the bulk of the guards to the wall. Your real job is to make Lord Carrera of Rowanheath think we have a much bigger army than we actually do.
“We’ve got a hundred men for this mission, but we need to make Carrera think we have a thousand. Or ten thousand. The cannons”—I gestured toward the big guns—“will do the bulk of the heavy lifting. Your job is to spread out, look fierce, and protect the cannons if Carrera starts deploying troops. But don’t worry, you won’t be the only focus. We’ve got another squad, exactly like this, on the other side. Chief Kolle of the Ak-Hani clan is overseeing them, and once Abby and I leave, he’ll be in charge of both squads. He’s a big, scary Murk Elf Necromancer, so he shouldn’t be hard to miss.”
“Understood,” Morgan said, hands straining against his staff. “We’ll show you we are worth every gold mark spent.”
“And you guys know what you’re doing, right?” I asked, turning on the cannon operators.
“No worries, sir,” a stalky Dwarf replied, his gruff voice sure and steady. “We’ve had time to practice back in the Marshes.” He reached over and patted one of the cannons affectionately. “These babies will shine, believe you me.”
“Alright, then. I think it’s time we’re off,” I said.
With a deep breath, I turned and called up Devil from the Shadowverse. Originally, Abby and I were going to storm the Keep with the spider-riders, but since I was level twenty-nine, we’d made a few alterations to the plan. A blast of sooty smoke filled the air; an eyeblink later, the dark cloud dissipated, revealing the monstrous lizard in all his awesome and horrific glory. Abby flinched, and I could almost feel the mercs and cannon techs recoil on instinct. Not that I could blame them—even I recoiled on seeing the epic beast. Devil was theoretically safe and under my control now, but I hadn’t actually had an opportunity to the test my abilities out.
The black-scaled doom lizard stared at me with its burning purple eyes, but made no visible move to attack. Still, I padded forward slowly and deliberately, not wanting to startle the creature. Carefully, cautiously, I extended one hand, palm out, as I moved. The Void Terror seemed indifferent, so I inched closer and closer. Still, Devil just sat there. His head swayed restlessly from side to side, but he showed no overt sign of hostility. Finally, I reached out and placed trembling fingers on the creature’s scale-covered snout, feeling the warmth of his breath brushing up against my skin.
“Can I ride you?” I asked hesitantly.
The creature regarded me for a tense beat, then snorted, grunted, and dropped his neck in deference, though his eyes burned with a fiery defiance. With a deep gulp, I edged closer and crawled onto his back, straddling him around the base of his neck, just forward of his leathery wings. Suddenly an awareness of Devil blossomed in the back of my head. I could feel him beneath me. I could feel both his anxiety and anger, his hunger and loyalty. Devil was separate from me—our minds only tenuously connected—but we were also one. That awareness in my head was like an extra sense, like a limb I’d just discovered.
A new skill popped up:
<<<>>>
Ability: Mount
Eldgard is a vast and wild land, filled with rugged, formidable terrain—jagged mountains, dense forests, treacherous swamps, and expansive waterways—not to mention a myriad of deadly creatures. Having a faithful mount can significantly reduce travel times, while making the hazards of the wild much more manageable. Not to mention, there is no more loyal and stalwart fighter than a battle mount.
Ability Type/Level: Passive / Level 1
Cost: None
Effect 1: Mount riding ability unlocked.
Effect 2: +5% to Mount’s Movement Rate, while you are riding.
Effect 3: Ferry (1) additional passenger on your mount (Movement Speed Reduced by 15%).
<<<>>>
I grinned, feeling absurdly, illogically happy.
A lot of terrible things had happened to me over the past several weeks—and over the past several months before that, honestly—but being on the back of this Drake, getting ready to soar through the sky like an eagle, was exhilarating. True, I wasn’t so hot with heights, but after facing down, and overcoming, all the horrors V.G.O. had thrown at me so far, this seemed like nothing at all. An absolute cakewalk. I noticed a pair of spikes jutting up from the base of Devil’s neck; they looked oddly like the yoke of an airplane.
I wrapped my sweaty palms around each and focused, willing Devil to stretch out his wings—to my shock, the Drake complied, his leathery appendages unfurling, stretching, the muscles rippling beneath the skin. Wow.
“Come on, Abby,” I said, waving her
over with a humongous smile. She came reluctantly, but when Devil seemed to ignore her, treating her as though she were nothing more than a part of the scenery, she grew a bit more confident and scampered up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist. It felt good to have her there, holding me. “Move on two flare blasts,” I called out to Morgan, simultaneously willing Devil to stand. To run. To fly.
We broke into a lumbering gait and, with a tremendous effort, the Drake leapt from the earth, his wings thrusting down, generating huge gusts of air, which flattened out the grass below. In seconds, we were climbing, gaining altitude as the trees and ground dropped away. It was a bit hard to hear with the wind whipping against me, but Abby’s deep-belly laughter still floated to my ears. She was laughing in pure joy, in unadulterated excitement. We were on the verge of war, on the verge of losing everything, but after a moment I found myself cackling like mad, too.
This was awesome.
I pulled up on Devil’s spike horns, and he responded in an instant, his huge wings pumping as we gained altitude.
I nudged us left and suddenly we banked, wheeling around in a loose circle, passing over the eastern forest we’d been in just moments before. It was almost impossible to see our forces through the dense tree cover—especially in the failing light—but they were down there, waiting for the signal to storm the walls and unleash hell in their wake. We banked right, turning back toward Rowanheath, soaring far above the domineering outer wall, until we reached the western side of the city. Unruly pine forests hugged the slopes there as well, and though I couldn’t see anyone below, I knew Chief Kolle was hiding out with thirty extra mercs and six more Arcane Shadow Cannons.
Our Keep raiding party, mounted on spiderkin, were nowhere to be seen—but that was all according to plan. We could never get the spiders past the outer gates, obviously, but the smugglers were apparently very good at what they did. Right now, our forces should already be through a series of secret mountain mines, and scampering through the sewers within Rowanheath proper. Otto and Amara were leading that bunch, and soon, they’d be in position, waiting for the chaos to break loose, before emerging and starting their ascent up the daunting inner wall protecting the Keep.
