by G. Akella
Without waiting for their reply, Vaessa spun on her heels, skirted a small pile of rocks, and started sprightly toward the fortress. Like that man will ever let her out of his sight, I grunted to myself, and followed after her.
"Five number three is on cover duty—the rest are waiting," Kan's voice sounded behind me.
Evidently, a veritable delegation was going to check out Vaessa's theory—five foxes were in tow behind Saverus and Kan, clutching crossbows that were ready to fire.
Generally speaking, Lars' foxes and Altus' mages were an interesting bunch. Being frank, I couldn't tell any of them apart, neither women nor men. Aside from Kan, Raena, Saverus and Gerat, that is. Take a battalion of soldiers marching on parade grounds, or construction workers laboring in a pit. Every one of them is an individual. For their parents, friends, commanders or supervisors. But for you as somebody simply passing by the parade grounds where they're training? Additionally, how are you supposed to perceive people that virtually never speak? Now, sure, Kan had shared with me that one of their missions a while back involved crawling around some caverns for three solid months that were home to colonies of plants with deadly toxic venom which would shoot poisoned needles at the sound of any human voice. To my perfectly reasonably question of why those very pants hadn't reacted to the sound of footsteps, Kan patiently explained that the caverns were likewise home creatures that fed on aforementioned plants... I had no further questions for the man, given that I wasn't at all interested in the particulars of the caverns' ecosystem. As for the foxes, if they preferred communicating in their own channels, I didn't mind that at all. I had once joined one of their party channels out of idle curiosity... And left just as quickly. The fighters appeared to be communicating via some combination of speech and telepathy, perhaps similar to radio comms of a special forces squad in the process of destroying a terrorist cell. That is to say, they spoke actual words, but taken collectively it was gibberish. For the outsider, anyway. And I was content to let them have their privacy—Hart knew, I was already at full conversational capacity with Vaessa, her clown of a nephew, and my lovely wife. And if need be, I would teach Gloom to speak... Oh, pig, how I've missed you!
With a sigh, I cast another glance at the citadel walls. Finding nothing suspicious, I touched Vaessa's shoulder, who'd been standing perfectly still a few dozen yards from the gate aperture.
"Well?"
"Patience, dar! I'm trying to make sense of this."
It was clear that the magus was struggling, her features having grown sharp, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. A silence enveloped the square, broken only by George's intermittent breathing from the rear ranks. Interestingly, I personally couldn't see any defenses—the citadel looked perfectly ordinary to me, as did the gate. That said, I wasn't so foolish as to doubt either Saverus or Vaessa.
The magus kept standing there for another five minutes, as if linkdead, and I was beginning to grow concerned when she took a sudden step forward and threw up her hand. A heap of bones lying between her and the citadel stirred, then rose in the air and began to swirl, crackling softly. There came a soft clap, and...
"Tano, do you really think that—" a voice began to speak behind me.
"Yes!" the magus didn't let Saverus finish.
An enormous bone hound emerged from the vortex, though it more closely resembled a bone cow. Turning around, the beast regarded us with eyes glowing a sorcerous blue color, twitched and started slowly toward the black gap of the opened gate.
Saverus was apparently the only one who understood what was happening, and possibly George judging by his soft growling, though the young dragon hadn't budged—Hart forbid he disobeyed his mommy's orders. As for me, I didn't particularly care, as long as in the end I got access to the bloody citadel! I had no intention of delving into any dark magic, because I wouldn't understand anything anyway. Sure, it might be wise for a commander to be aware of his subordinates' abilities, but when said abilities far transcended your mental capacity, it was better to just go with the flow. They could always try and bring me up to speed, if need be.
"It's a golem," Vaessa said quietly, as if reading my mind. "I need to determine whether whoever had set this defense is on our side. What if I'm mistaken?"
Wiping the sweat off her brow, she nodded at the hound drawing close to the gate.
"I've left but a tiny thread between us..."
Just then, the hound ran through the gate. There was a deafening noise as a cloud of dust shrouded the gate, as if someone from the other side had tossed a smoke grenade. Scooping up Vaessa's limp body from the ground, I passed her to the back, then whipped out my sword and stepped up to the beast that had leaped out of the citadel.
The creature summoned by the necromancer's daughter was still about the same size, but now it looked nothing like the bone hound it used to be. With a narrow oblong snout, forebody covered in bone plates, stumpy paws set wide apart, spikes jutting out of its back, and eyes burning a fiery red, the monster looked to be some inexplicable amalgamation of a rat, a bull terrier and a sea urchin. It made for an eerie sight in the surrounding twilight, but as an ordinary level 280 mob, it instilled no fear in me whatsoever. It wasn't even a mini boss! A few strikes of the sword should do it...
"Protect her like you would your own balls!" A voice cried behind me, followed by the whistling of a blade being drawn. Momentarily, the knight-commander was at my side, metal clanging. Sure enough, he had passed Vaessa to somebody else and rushed headlong into battle. Color me unsurprised!
Then again, "rushed headlong" didn't describe his pattern of movement particularly well. In combat, Kan seemed to flow from one spot to the next—I could only dream of moving like he did. Alas, you had to be born a warrior in this world to possess that kind of prowess. Even the way he stood now, it was just far enough not to get in my way—I was certain that were I to take a swing toward him, the tip of Ruination would pass exactly one millimeter from his shoulder. If only I could be this good by picking up a talent... I sighed mentally as I pulled my hand back, ready to strike back at the beast who, having changed masters, was getting ready to pounce.
The monster let out a deep-pitched growl, tensed up, then charged right at me.
I heard a flurry of claps behind me, as several arrows punctured the air, leaving a fiery trail, and disappeared in the blackness of the open gate. There was a blast, followed by bursts of color that stained the translucent walls of the defensive dome as it melted.
"Quit groping me!" Vaessa roared behind me, breaking free of the foxes struggling to keep her restrained. "If I want a bunch of men pinning me down, I will damn well tell you!"
If she's yelling, then she's all right, I thought, glancing back and handing Vaessa a handkerchief in a familiar motion. The necromancer's daughter put the cloth to her bleeding nose, then stuffed it in her pocket in a motion just as familiar. Was she collecting them or something?
"It's bad news, dar," she said, pulling back her cloak. "The protection is double-layered. I can't make any sense of the first layer—the way it transformed my bonehound so thoroughly... As for the second layer, it was set either by our towheaded friend or by somebody close to him."
"Nerghall? The transformed had pulled him out of Cathella, after all."
"Yes, that makes sense," Vaessa nodded. "He may have croaked, but his defense remains. And, unfortunately, it isn't in my power to lift it." The priestess shook her head, fixed a cuff peeking out from under her sleeve, and looked up at me. "I'll tell you something else. Even if Nerghall hadn't placed this defense here, I still wouldn't go near that damned gate. Did you see what that magic did to my golem?"
"Saverus?" I looked to Altus' former apprentice.
"I agree with Lady Vaessa," the mage shook his head gloomily. "The defense field covers the citadel with two domes. I have never seen anything like it, and I can't even imagine how..." the mage trailed off.
"Well, then," I shifted my gaze from Saverus to Kan, frowning. "If we can't get in
to the citadel, let's pay a visit to the local dragons instead. I fished out a map, and thrust my finger at the northern section of the city. "This is us!"
It appeared that I wasn't going to get out of meeting Velargass...
Chapter 4
Say what you will, but two moons in the sky was a fun sight. And I'd grown so accustomed to all this that I wasn't even asking myself where they had come from? Naturally, were anything like this to occur in the world I'd left behind, I would be the first to blow my gasket. Just imagine coming out on the balcony for a smoke one fine evening, and seeing this... Hell, the entire world would blow its collective gasket! On the other hand, the people of Earth had been inoculated over the years with the likes of Superman, Batman, predators and aliens, murderous asteroids, giant intelligent bugs, and much, much worse, so perhaps they'd be more prepared to deal with it than I gave them credit for. Moreover, I couldn't recall a single hit movie in which the aliens were the good guys. Humanity always needed a bogeyman, and it didn't matter who or what assumed that role: alien bugs or other bipeds living under the same sun, as long as there was an enemy to rally against. That was just the way we were built.
I shifted my gaze to the four portable labs, where Saverus' mages toiled brewing elixirs against dragon fire. It was odd how clean the air was down here. And what had been the source of that stench in the Pass of Forty Springs? Funny how these are the topics that come to mind, I caught myself thinking. Not the sealed citadel, or the imminent battle against the beasts that had laid waste to this city—no, I was more concerned with air purity and the process whereby smells passed through portal windows. And why the Hart not? Both were perfectly reasonable matters for contemplation, if you ask me.
With a chuckle, I lit up a pipe, and looked back up at the sky. There was no denying that two celestial bodies hanging overhead, one of which had a circumference exceeding my arm's span, was a strange sight, to say the least. And yet, people would have gotten used to it fairly quickly. The news media would sow panic for a while but move on eventually, and humanity would recommence its usual behavior—laboring for their daily bread.
And your typical person wouldn't think twice about the matter save for the occasional summer evening while on vacation when, away from the hustle and bustle of daily life, they suddenly found the time to lounge in a comfy armchair with a cup of coffee, listen to the rustle of the grass, and contemplate the islands and the continents of the two celestial bodies floating overhead.
Our party came to a halt in the northern section of the city, at the foot of a stone staircase the upper platform of which abutted the open gates of an enormous temple. The staircase was long and wide, and rather steep, its timeworn steps covered with countless tiny cracks, suggesting that the temple to which it led was once the most visited place in the city, which had since been wrecked to its foundation.
We had made it here without incident, with the only development of note being the sudden vanishing of the misty haze. I still didn't know whether it had been a natural phenomenon, alien magic or a harmless gimmick by the devs for visual flair, nor did I really care. From our current vantage point, all of the city opened up before us in all its dreary glory.
Saverus was right—the dragons hadn't left a single structure wholly intact in all of Cathella. All that was left were the city walls, the citadel with the statues in its front courtyard, the cemetery and this staircase with the temple. I'd seen countless such cities in my travels through the chessboard of nightmares, countless buildings reduced to rubble, broken roads, ditches and streets filled with debris and bones... If this were happening back in that other life, I would no doubt be shaken by the tragedy that had transpired here, but presently this picture evoked in me nothing but boredom. Everybody changed with time—some more, some less. And though I was generally fine with all the changes I'd undergone, the fact that I now appeared to lack empathy... Well, sacrifices were inevitable—in this life as well as in the last.
A sudden gust of northern wind made me shiver. I shifted my shoulders, then rummaged for my cognac flask. Who knew how much longer the brewing process might take? I might as well keep myself warm...
"I wanted to talk to you, dar," the necromancer's daughter swept invisible dust from the rock next to me, then took a seat.
"What about?" I exhaled the smoke through my teeth, gazing contemplatively at the flask in my hand, then looked over at Vaessa.
The young woman's behavior had been rather odd of late. Specifically, she appeared to be actively avoiding me for. This wasn't entirely new—she had exhibited similar behavior during our travels to Craedia, after I had ordered to hang the disavowed on the walls of the temple they had themselves destroyed. The necromancer's daughter seemed withdrawn, almost distracted—the way someone might look when faced with a decision that could irreversibly impact their fate. Only she wasn't even looking in my direction; rather, her gaze kept returning to Reece, who was presently standing by the wall to our right, speaking and gesticulating emphatically. His interlocutor, George the bone dragon, was sitting across, staring directly at the mage with his lower jaw slightly slacked. The sight of those two was so comical that I nearly choked on my own smoke.
"I know that my timing is ill-advised," Vaessa continued. "But there may not be a better time in the future, or I simply may not muster up the courage to bring it up."
"What happened?" I took a small sip from my flask, and gave the magus my full attention. "Has Celphata made you her companion?"
"No, it's not that... I wanted to talk about relationships. Between humans and demons."
"Oh, that," I sighed, motioning toward Reece. "I know, the kid's got it bad..."
"Oh? Is something the matter with him?" Vaessa gave me a pointed look, her voice tinged with irony.
"I bet..." Exhaling the smoke, I gestured at Raena with the pipe-holding hand, who was conversing with Saverus. "That one is having none of his shenanigans, I mean his courting."
"Serves him right! He's gotten used to coasting on his looks and charm..." Vaessa snatched the flask from me, and took a few bid swigs. "He doesn't know how to court properly!" she added, wincing as she swung the flask through the air for emphasis and spilling precious cognac in the process. "The little jackass has earned it! So let him squirm!" Vaessa stared broodingly at the spilled droplets of booze, then looked back at me. "Don't worry your pretty little head—that one will be just fine."
Seeing my incredulous gaze, Vaessa nodded at the fireflies swirling over the steps.
"How much do you care about the opinion of these bugs? Not much at all, right? Thought so. If a noble lady—and our lady here is noble, no doubt—is merely ignoring that clown's advances, that's already a sign! And if she's actually reacting to him at all... But don't you tell him anything!"
All I could muster in response was a noncommittal "mm-hmm."
I dare anyone show me a man who understands women...
"Anyway, I'm not here to talk about him," the demoness continued. "He's not worth so many breaths!"
"What did you want to talk about, then?"
"Kan Shyom proposed to me!" Taking another big swig, she fixed me with a suspicious askance look.
Tobacco smoke is quite the treacherous thing—you can choke on it at the most inopportune time!
"You don't say?!" I mumbled as my coughing fit wound down, wiping the tears from my eyes and trying to sound surprised. "He just came out and proposed out of nowhere?"
"Aye," the demoness nodded. "On day two in Mycana, he invited me to The Supple Reed—that's the central tavern in the palace courtyard. And then he proposed... before we even got to the tavern!"
"I am but an old soldier, my lady. I know not of love," I spoke with my best Kan expression.
"That's pretty spot on, but that's still not why I'm here," Vaessa nodded, squinting her eyes with even more suspicion. "When I inquired whether this was his idea or somebody else had nudged him to, he didn't give me a straight answer, muttering something about a certain demon
instead..."
"Well, sure..."
"What does that mean?" Cocking her head, Vaessa squinted so hard her eyes became tiny slits.
"I mean, why couldn't it be a demon, right?" Suddenly I found myself wanting to get far, far away from here, even if that meant coming face to face with the dragons responsible for desolating Cathella. "A well-intentioned demon who thought he'd help a cool dude woo an even cooler dudette."
"And who might that demon be, huh?!" Vaessa raised the flask to her lips, took another sip, then put her shoulder to mine and made a sweeping gesture, as if encompassing all the space surrounding us.
"I only see three demons here, dar! Or am I missing something? And one of those demons he'd never listen to, Hart be praised! And then he proposed to me..."
"Well, there were plenty of demons back in Mycana," I offered up a logical objection, then finally cracked a smile. "And besides," reclaiming my flask at long last, I took a swig myself and nodded at Kan Shyom, who was instructing his subordinates as per his usual self. "He's a good man, isn't he? And he's mad about you, so..." Suddenly self-aware of how corny it all sounded, I gave a comical shrug and another timid smile.
"Why don't you tell me the rest? Did you give him an answer?"
"If only it was that simple," the demoness turned away, gazing up at the clouds encroaching on one of the moons. "You know about my obligations before you, dar. And about my oath to the Mistress."
"Isn't he in the same boat? All tied up with obligations?" I asked, stuffing the vessel into my bag, away from further sin. "Just tell the truth—you're scared!"
"A little bit, maybe," Vaessa admitted, dismayed. "It was just so sudden, and the timing isn't exactly great... Anyway, I told him I'd let him know after all this adventuring is behind us. And another thing," Vaessa sighed, then motioned at one of the statues at the base of the staircase. "I'm a woman, not an elephant made of stone! So, next time my suitor comes to you for advice, try and make him understand that, won't you?"
