Using Power could warn the authorities, so she simply stepped forward and thrust a stiff-fingered hand right through the Ogre’s chest and his heart. She ripped her hand out before the Ogre noticed that he’d been killed, and delivered a snap-kick into the Elf’s lower abdomen, shattering his pelvis and paralyzing him with sudden agony. A swift slap caved his skull in before he could recover. It took a few seconds to drag the still-twitching bodies into the alley and use the Ogre’s cloak to wipe off the blood on her hands, but nobody else seemed to be out and about. Good.
Dirtying her hands with a pair of nobodies was beneath her, but she had to admit that it had felt good. It had been ages since she’d killed anybody with anything other than Power. Maybe she should do it more often.
The address she’d been given was nearby, too well-protected for her to arrive there directly. She made it to the nondescript building – an abandoned inn, she deduced from the rotting sign hanging from a chain by the doorway – without any further incidents. The door was unlocked; she let herself in.
“It’s been a while, Sex,” said one of the two figures waiting for her in the inn’s musty common room.
“Don’t call me that. It’s Sexaginta-Novem, or Nova if you must use a nickname.”
The pale man in the black overcoat smiled at her. “How about Sixty-Nine, then?”
“Let’s get this over with, and we don’t have to call each other by any names… Outcast.”
Outcast’s smile didn’t waver. He seemed content enough, despite having been stripped of his Arbiter’s rank, name, and most of his powers. Arbiters were supposed to kill Outcast on sight; the fact that the unassuming human was alive and kicking demonstrated that he remained resourceful – and dangerous. In fact, if Sexaginta-Novem weren’t a traitor and tried to destroy the former Arbiter, she wasn’t sure if she would be the one to walk out of the abandoned inn alive.
“What’s with the gimp?” she asked him as she started ‘unwrapping’ the present she’d come to deliver. The process was non-physical but took some effort. Hiding some items was not an easy matter.
The ‘gimp’ was almost as infamous as Outcast, although for a far shorter length of time: the Undead Sidhe that had the Arbiters running scared. She had expected him to look a little more impressive. And maybe more talkative. Instead, the slender figure in black leather armor stared at her impassively while remaining perfectly still. The Fae loved to chatter and gesture, making the entity’s posture even more unnatural than if it had been human.
“Laryn isn’t much for small talk,” Outcast said. “And, as far as he has any emotions at all, he is unhappy. Nobody likes to see someone else be promoted over them, do they?”
“No, they don’t,” she agreed as the final energy barrier keeping her gifts contained fell away. “Where do you want them?”
“Send them straight to my Bonded Vault. I’ll take it from there.”
“There were over two hundred of them, but my agent only had time to retrieve six before the entries were deleted for good,” she said as she made the transfers.
Six Revenants appeared in Outcast’s personal Vault.
“Pity. We had been expecting more. Twenty or thirty, at least.”
“Do you know how hard it is to grab something while it is being purged from the system? Getting any at all was difficult enough.”
“The Court will not be happy.”
“And I should care, why?”
“When we created Laryn, we were able to establish contact with someone you might have heard of. Name of Vazalak. He was dying to play with a Revenant. How do you think Laryn accomplished all his tricks?”
“The Court is working for a Maker? I thought the whole point was to destroy them.”
“The Court is working with three Makers. We share similar goals. And if you fail us again, one of them will make sure there is no third chance for you.”
She wasn’t easily scared – she had mostly forgotten how to be scared – but Outcast’s words sent a chill down her back. Another unfortunate drawback of being corporeal was that you were back to having nerves, hormones, and the annoying fight-or-flight impulses that came with them.
“Are you threatening me, Outcast?”
“Not at all. That was a warning. We are about to enter a more active phase of the Plan, now that we have new patrons. Things will start to happen fast. We need you to be on top form.”
“Consider myself warned. And stop calling me Sex.”
“We are almost done here. Just one quick question. What do you know about Hawke Lightseeker? Eternal, Common Realm, Eastern Hemisphere, Upper Quadrant.”
“Give me a nano… Got it. His file has been flagged, need to know only. All I can see is that Vice and Nona are in charge of it, and they’re being pretty cagey about it.”
“I used to know Vice, back in the day. He was a stiff-necked son of a bitch.”
“He hasn’t changed.”
Outcast’s smile widened. “We have. Only sheeple keep doing what they’re told when it’s clear things will never improve.”
“Preaching to the choir here. What’s so important about some lowbie Eternal? The public record has him in the upper five percentile, in terms of advancement speed, but that’s about it.”
“Somebody with a capital ‘S’ keeps throwing him at us. He has messed up four Court of Thorn ops so far. People are getting antsy.”
“Too bad for whoever this Hawke is,” the Arbiter concluded, dismissing him from her mind. “When are you going to kill him?”
“Next time he interferes.”
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Court of Thorns Sample Chapters
The Eternal Journey continues in Court of Thorns, the fifth book of the series coming in the first quarter of 2021.
Prologue
Aristobulus Highgarden raised his head when he heard the door to his cell begin to clink open. He wasn’t hungry, so it was too early for chow. Unexpected visitors could mean only one thing.
This is it, he thought, too tired and miserable to care very much.
He didn’t know how long it had been since he had respawned back at the Nerf Herder’s compound and found himself manacled with Witch-Hunter Chains, which drained the wearer of Mana and prevented spell-casting. Weeks, at least. Maybe months. It felt like he had been in the damp, dark cell forever. The discomfort had been bad, but what had driven him nearly insane had been the boredom. Lying on the straw-covered ground with nothing to do but smell his own crap and wonder how everything could go so wrong.
The door creaked open and light from a lamp shone down on Aristobulus, who blinked dumbly at its painful brightness. Someone was entering the cell, but he couldn’t make out who it was in the glare of the lamp; he heard footsteps getting closer.
“Hello, Aristobulus,” someone said in English. “What was your name on Earth?”
“Sean. Sean Rickard,” he said hoarsely, and felt his parched lips crack painfully when he spoke. His jailors gave him food and water, but never enough of either. “Are you here to kill me?”
“No. I wouldn’t bother talking to you in that case. My name is Jake Duchamp. You know me as Archmage Jacobus of the Council of the Wise.”
“Yes, of course. We didn’t know you were from Earth.”
“Would it have made a difference if you did?”
“Maybe. We would have tried to recruit you, I think. At least, I would have suggested it. Kaiser made the final decisions, though.”
Kaiser Wrecker was dead, or so he had been told. Struck down by Hawke Lightseeker in single combat, supposedly. Aristobulus had been elated. He didn’t think he’d ever hated anybody more than he’d ha
ted the leader of the Nerf Herders.
“Kaiser made a lot of mistakes. But you helped him do a lot of damage.”
“I had no choice. We all had to follow his orders.”
Jacobus didn’t sound very sympathetic when he replied. “You know, just before I was dragged to the Realms, I heard that excuse a lot: ‘I was following orders.’ So you were a good German, then. You went along and helped Kaiser murder thirty-three people in the Council’s Tower. I didn’t like many of them, but they deserved better than having their throats cut in their sleep, or getting shot in the head when they tried to defend themselves.”
“I got shot in the head, or that’s what they tell me. I don’t remember much of it, but at least it was quick.”
“You Reincarnated. My colleagues didn’t have the luxury, except for the handful who invested in a Soul Jar.”
Aristobulus felt too tired to beg for his life, but he gave it a half-hearted try. “We all swore oaths to obey Kaiser. Final Death if we broke them. By the time we realized he was a power-hungry bastard, we were stuck.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Nobody made you swear to behave like a barbarian, did they? Your little band of brothers has ninety-six counts of rape to their name, just to name one crime. And those are the victims willing to testify to that.”
“I never raped anyone.”
All he’d been interested in had been magic. Mastering the Elements, feeling his Mana pool become stronger, those had been his drugs, his sex, and his rock and roll. He’d seen what some of his guild mates were doing, had even complained to Kaiser once or twice, but eventually the reality had sunk in; as long as they did as they were told, the ‘active duty’ Nerf Herders could do whatever the hell they wanted. Aristobulus had learned to withdraw to his study and ignore the screams and the laughter. And he had known what Kaiser did to Rowena regularly, and he’d looked the other way.
“No, you didn’t. That is why I’m here. There might be some hope for you yet.”
“What do you want?”
After getting used to the idea that there was no way out of this, the possibility that he might return to his magic nearly brought tears to his eyes. What if Jacobus was lying? That would be the cruelest torture anyone could inflict on him, to give him hope only to take it away.
“The Council will secure your release. You will have to pay hefty fines for your crimes, of course. Hope you kept some expensive loot in your Bonded Vault, because all property you held outside it has already been seized.”
“I can pay. I have over a dozen platinum coins and a thousand gold, plus lots of items.”
As soon as he spoke, Aristobulus wondered if the whole thing had been a ruse to get him to reveal how much stuff he had in his Vault, the personal pocket dimension only he could reach. Now that they knew, they could torture him until he coughed up all the cash and items he’d mentioned.
“That will do, for a start,” the Archmage said. “You will also have to swear an oath of servitude to the Council of the Wise.”
“More oaths.”
“They will be far less restrictive than what Kaiser made you swear. We aren’t monsters, but we can’t take the chance that you will betray us or try to make a break for it.”
“Yes, of course.” It was a better deal than his current predicament. “I’ll do it.”
“I’m not done yet. You will have to accept a pretty dangerous Quest as well. That’s the main reason I persuaded the Council to give you a second chance.”
“I’m listening. Could I have a little water while you tell me?”
“Here you go,” Jake said, handing him a bottle he magically produced from his Vault. It was chilled water with a dash of lime and even a bit of sugar mixed in, and was the best drink Aristobulus had ever tested in his life.
“Something is happening to the Malleus Mallum,” Jacobus went on, and Aristobulus started coughing as he choked on the lemonade.
“That hell-hole! I hate that place!” he yelled when he got the cough under control.
“Well, it’s getting worse, and you are one of the few who has reached the Deepest Pits and lived to tell about it.”
“That’s how I hit level twenty,” he admitted, and shivered when the bad memories came to the surface. “The things down there, they don’t just kill you, you know. They like to make it last. I’ve blocked out most of what happened, but what little I remember is enough to give me nightmares for the rest of my life.”
“I can sympathize, buddy, but that’s the deal if you want out of here. You’ll need to guide a party into the Labyrinth.”
“Why? What is happening to it?”
“For starters, its monsters have been getting loose and tearing up the countryside.”
“That’s not supposed to happen. Other than Events, once every month or so.”
“Not Events. Those come with warnings beforehand so the civilians can go to shelter and Adventurers can show up and collect valuable prizes. These are just appearing without warning. Elite monsters. Started happening last week, and it’s getting worse. The City Prefect had to mobilize the Ninth Legion, which he didn’t do even when the Trogg Undercity was discovered. Things are getting serious here.”
“And you want me to help.”
“It’s the price of your release. The alternative is pretty bad. They executed your pal Naruto yesterday.”
“He wasn’t my pal. How bad was it?”
“Bad. The Imperials like to put up a show. Drawn and quartered. Then, after he Reincarnated, they dragged him out and did it again. When he came back from that, they burned him to death. The rest were simple beheadings. The last couple of times he didn’t even know who he was or why people were doing that to him.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“It’s a rough way to go, all right.”
“I’ll do it. Who else is coming?”
“I’m talking to a couple other Herders. Maybe Amelia Blueflame.”
“She wasn’t that bad. I mean, she’s a bitch, but she didn’t like the stuff Kaiser was into.”
“She and Zippo are the most likely candidates.”
“Zippo is crazy.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Two or three mage types can’t go into a Labyrinth alone.”
“Of course not. We’ll send a few City Watchmen along. Elite Cohort. And, if I can get him, someone from outside the city.”
Aristobulus could think of only one name.
“Oh, no.”
“Yeah. I want to wrangle Hawke Lightseeker for this expedition.”
“Oh, no,” Aristobulus repeated.
One
“Dammit! I’m getting married in two days, in case you haven’t noticed!”
Saturnyx’s stern but calm voice acted like a bucket of cold water. Hawke Lightseeker began to protest, thought better of it, and nodded.
“Okay, you are right. I was thinking of downing a couple of glasses of that new brandy the Dwarves brought to town. I guess doing an hour of Mana Channeling is better for my health.”
Hawke sighed as he sat down in the lotus position, which was a little hard in the leather pants he was currently wearing. Normally he did his Channeling naked, but that wouldn’t work in the Domain Lord’s office in Orom, where a councilor could walk in at any moment. Flashing town officials wouldn’t be proper, or good for morale. Well, Mistress of Coin Antana might appreciate the view, but not the rest.
Yeah, yeah.
It took a few moments to settle down, activate Tranquil Mind, and let go of everything except the flow of Mana through his body. He still d
idn’t understand the mysterious energy that allowed the use of magic and a whole bunch of abilities one might as well call superpowers. In the Realms, it permeated everything, living or inert. Matter and energy were interchangeable; he had learned that in high school, and thought that maybe Mana was a way to tap the energy bound in matter. Or maybe the Makers had simply infused everything in the Realms with the stuff for some reason. To make their inhabitants stronger, perhaps, or, if his new acquaintance Jake the Wizard was right, to breed super-soldiers to use in an endless war.
Whatever it was, Mana could make you stronger, faster, and more durable than humans or anything that lived on Earth. It came in a variety of colors or flavors, based on the Element, Force or School of Magic it empowered. And it flowed inside living bodies through a complex network similar to the circulatory system, except that instead of one heart, it had seven. Chakras, gateways and pumps of energy that needed to be opened to reach one’s full potential.
Hawke had one Chakra left to open. After awakening the Crown Chakra, opening the next two (Heart and Throat) had been shockingly easy. It had taken about six hours of meditation for each of them, and his main problem had been making time in between the dozens of things he had to get done every day. As a result of the two open gateways, his Mana had increased by another twenty percent, and his Mana regain was up by another two points per minute, not much in the great scheme of things, but every bit helped. More importantly, he’d gained some special abilities from them. The Throat Chakra let communicate telepathically through Mana pulses, and granted him a Shout attack that created a damaging sonic shockwave to everything around him. The Heart Chakra had raised his Health by ten percent and improved his Advanced Mana Sight’s ability to identify emotions in others.
All that remained was his Third Eye.
The Crown Chakra had given him a ton of insight about his energy network and its connections. He could feel every node pulsing with power, and see concentrations of all the diverse ‘flavors’ of magic he had unlocked. The Elements were the simplest and in some ways the purest: Fire was bright orange, Death a deep purple, Life a warm, refreshing green-yellow, Light a brighter, sharper shade of yellow, and Darkness inky black. Then the Forces: Celestial shone in intense golden hues, Order came as an unblinking whiteness, Mind a pastel pink, and Chaos appeared as a swirl of many colors, speckled with black motes. Each concentration of colorized Mana used its own sub-channel, staying away from the others except where they mixed in Amalgams like Twilight and Undeath.
Guilds at War: The LitRPG Saga Continues Page 32
