Deadline

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Deadline Page 42

by Domino Finn


  Talon

  Level

  10

  Class

  Explorer

  XP

  111672

  Kit

  Scout

  Next

  113400

  I groaned. I'd been hoping to level up before the big showdown, but the war was winding down. It wasn't gonna happen in time to make a difference. Oh well, ever onward.

  Kyle: Talon, we're just about ready. Do you have a fix on Hadrian's location?

  I pinged the god emperor in the dev menu.

  DEVELOPER CONSOLE

  >> ERROR

  >> OAKENGARD OFFLINE

  I cursed.

  Talon: Bad news. Hadrian disconnected Oakengard from the hub. It really limits my access.

  Kyle: Frickin' wonderful.

  Bandit hugged the mountains as she steered close. Based on intel from Kyle and Bravo Team, we knew Hadrian had pretty much dedicated all his troops to the battlefield, but I was still surprised to see the fortress from the air. The towers, battlements, courtyards—it was a ghost town. It didn't look like Oakengard, it looked like a theme park of Oakengard that was shut down for the day. It was eerie. Something was up.

  I took a pass around the grounds to make sure we weren't flying into a trap.

  "And that's all she wrote," boasted Kyle as they stepped from the mines into the shuttered lower level of Oakengard.

  Dune and Stigg quietly slipped into the halls, impressed. Cleric Vagram and Bishop Tannen were more stoic about skirting the castle's gates. Kyle guessed they'd had no knowledge of the security vulnerability before now.

  "Guards?" asked Dune.

  Lash shook her head. "No one comes down here. But even weirder is there's no one upstairs, either."

  "We bypassed the army on the way here," pointed out Tannen.

  "Yeah," said Kyle, "but I'd have expected some respawns to make their way back. It's empty up there, bros."

  The bishop jutted his chin upward. "It matters little if we encounter personnel. The people will respect their rightful leader."

  Lash snickered. "This guy."

  Dune pulled out his longbow. "What does it matter? It can't be far to where we're going, right?"

  "The Speculum," said the bishop. "Follow me."

  The group headed down the dark hallway.

  Stigg studied Bravo Team as they silently walked.

  "What is it?" asked Conan.

  "Oh, nothing." He nodded to Glinda. "It's just nice having a healer around. We left ours on the battlefield."

  Cleric Vagram sighed. "You're traveling with two of the most gifted healers in Haven."

  Stigg chortled. "No offense but I usually rely on healers who aren't total knobs."

  Vagram bit down and pushed forward. Kyle smiled.

  "Okay, guys," he announced, "I just got off captain chat with Talon. He says—"

  "I know what he says," interrupted Lash. "I'm on captain chat too."

  "Ditto," said Dune, eyes forward.

  Kyle scratched his scruff. "Oh yeah. I keep forgetting you're a Black Hat now." He considered Stigg and Bravo Team and the catechists. "But for everyone else who's not a faction captain, check it out. This is like a heist, right? You seen Ocean's 11? We're gonna sneak up on Hadrian, most likely in the Speculum, and steal the Eye of Orik and the trijewel."

  Tannen's eyes flared. "The usurper holds the trijewel." He said it as a statement, pale skin reddening.

  "Sure. And he controls the Crystal Core. We think. It's not like we can steal that from him, but Talon has a plan."

  Vagram sternly cut in. "Our mission is to revive the Trinity. Once Hero Gent, Philosopher Mara, and Bishop Tannen are together again, they'll know how to defeat the usurper."

  Tannen nodded. "We'll do what we can, but the Black Hats must be instrumental in this. We couldn't have gotten this far without them."

  Vagram clenched his teeth and nodded.

  The group paused at the stairway leading up to the light. Despite the fresh air above, the silence was deafening.

  "It's like I said," bragged Kyle, "completely empty."

  He boldly headed up the stairs and, amazingly, nothing at all happened. It frankly even surprised him.

  Scurrying through the hallways was much easier in the light, despite the constant flickering. Instead of whispered concerns, the proximity of their destination stymied conversation. They were finally doing what needed doing. Kyle was satisfied with that.

  The amethyst banister of the Speculum staircase came into view. Two keepers rotated to face them. Kyle tensed for a moment before he spotted the twins. Hex with a fresh coat of black fingernails and lipstick, the thief in black leather. The two animated Violet Order automatons were under the necromancer's control.

  "I heard you guys a mile away," complained Crux.

  Lights flickered haphazardly as the brewmaster hiked a shoulder. "Like it even matters. Oakengard is a dying city."

  "Don't give up on her yet," pronounced Tannen, marching forward. "I must believe she can be saved." He angled his brows toward Hex's zombies.

  "Anything's possible," conceded Lash, "but Kyle's right. Have you guys noticed all the XP coming in from the war? This fortress should be full of respawns. Instead Hadrian's been relying on a recruiting factory."

  "I've been thinking about this," said Glinda. The witch, usually timid, spoke more forcefully now. "Speaker Harroway respawned, but his words unsettled me. He said that many of his brothers and sisters were gone because they fell to the plague. Maybe something about the pestilence's corrupting influence, the same thing that steals the will of a person, also steals their opportunity of eternal life."

  Lash pursed her lips and mulled it over. Tannen scowled as he still studied Hex's zombies. "These... monstrosities are still around after death."

  "They're just corpses," explained the necromancer. "They're empty shells. My magic doesn't affect the conscious people at all."

  The bishop didn't find the explanation reassuring.

  "So his army's disposable," concluded Lash. "With the factory taken care of, the supply of enemies is cut off."

  "Not quite," hedged Glinda. "The nature of the plague means any one of us is a potential subject."

  "It gets worse," said the usually silent Vagram. "If your conclusions are accurate, and I'm beginning to suspect they are, then every single one of us is in very real danger of being annihilated forever. No more afterlife."

  The unlikely companions shared a moment of sullen silence.

  The brewmaster cracked his neck. "Well then, what are we waiting for? Crux, lead the way."

  "You got it," said the thief.

  Light boots paved the way down the staircase to the Speculum. After a quick peek, Crux signaled and the party cautiously descended. The lighting in the Speculum was harsher than before. Cold and white, it reflected off the frozen lake like a sheet of haze over a snowy tundra. The brightness washed out the colors and nearly blinded them until their eyes adjusted. Occasionally, spikes in intensity, like lightning, jump-started their nerves, elevating the room to a shining sun before dimming like a dream.

  Kyle stepped down as a low hum filled his ears. The sound wasn't unlike wind, but he could swear he felt it in his teeth. The ice itself was whirring, like it was alive, or perhaps like it wanted to be.

  "It's empty," he said, disappointed but not surprised.

  "I haven't been able to locate Hadrian," said Crux.

  "All the better," said the bishop as he pressed ahead. "The Trinity is my priority."

  Tannen wasn't especially spry, but Kyle marveled at how easily he walked across the smooth ice surface. He chalked it up to past experience. Lash, Stigg, and Conan used their large weapons to brace themselves, while the twins and Dune were agile enough on their own. For his part, since he lacked a polearm to assist his balance, Kyle stepped slow and steady toward the column of smoky quartz.

  "What if he left the castle?" suggested Dune. "He's safest with his army."

/>   "Not by the way Talon tells it," chortled Lash.

  "I'd agree," said Glinda. "Hadrian's a manipulator at heart. He sent the pawns ahead while he attended to his true goal."

  "Which is?"

  Kyle's metal boot lost purchase for a split second. He slid forward and caught himself in an awkwardly wide stance, arms splayed outward and facing down. Colors of a crystalline rainbow blinked below the surface but were muted by the harsh white light above. The brewmaster took a breath and steadied his footing, relieved that, since he was the slowest and last in line, everyone had missed his embarrassing misstep.

  "It's impossible to guess what he's up to," muttered Crux. "For all we know, he's waiting on the outcome of the battle."

  Hex emphatically shook her head. "Hadrian's a puppet master. He's been at this longer than we've been in the sim. He has intimate knowledge of processes we've never heard about. Trust me, he's up to something."

  Ahead, Tannen and Vagram stopped at the foot of the throne. Hero Gent was dead, as Talon had reported. A shiver, a slight tremor, ran down Kyle's spine and uprooted his foot. His balance suddenly shifted. The brewmaster lurched to the side, momentarily staving off a fall by initiating a jerky hula dance.

  The performance was short-lived.

  Kyle rocked forward as his legs swept behind him. Plate armor, and his face, clattered loudly to the ice. His companions spun around, every one to a man rolling their eyes when they saw him.

  "Uh..." he said, "sorry, I—" Kyle's eyes went sharp. He cocked his head and stared at the floor inches from his face. Using the heel of his hand, he wiped away the sheen of white and gazed into the depths below. "I, uh, think I just found our god emperor."

  The others crowded around to see Hadrian the Whisperer buried a good six feet below the surface. He was hunched forward and facing the lake floor. Trails of red, purple, blue, and green dotted in and out of him like ants.

  "What the... ?" Lash blinked in horror, trying to make sense of the sight.

  Hex squinted. "Is he... ?"

  "Dead?" asked Tannen. "I think not. But he is occupied. We must hurry." The bishop returned to the throne.

  Vagram frowned at its occupant. "His body is mostly stone," reported the cleric.

  "It appears that way." Tannen ran healing hands over the head of the knightly caste. "Not the purple infection, but perhaps a precursor. A corruption of the keeper's ability to petrify." The bishop grunted. "This is worse than I thought. I question our ability to revive him."

  Kyle made it to the throne just as they concluded with the glum news.

  "What about Mara?" ventured Crux. "She managed to resist the sickness all the way to the end. Hadrian killed her because he couldn't turn her."

  The bishop arched an eyebrow. "Interesting. It's worth a try."

  With some force of will, Tannen activated the column of quartz and Gent's throne rotated away.

  "Careful," said Kyle. "We don't wanna wake Hadrian."

  The rotating column reverberated through the ice and the companions watched on pins and needles. Hadrian made no reaction. Philosopher Mara came into view, a length of crystal plunged through her chest. Vagram gritted his teeth, pulled the weapon free, and placed it gently on the floor.

  "Yes," whispered Tannen after a moment of study. "The White King can work with this. I lay these hands in his name, the name of the father, the daughter, and the spirit of man. Philosopher Mara, I bid thee a triumphant welcome!"

  When both catechists removed their hands, the hole in Mara's chest was gone. The old woman's head jerked sideways and her breath croaked. A shiver, and she was alive. The respected elder cracked open her eyes, taking a moment to process her predicament.

  "A most unwelcome return," she said coarsely. "And hardly a triumph in sight." She pressed her lips together tightly, appearing uncomfortable. "Bishop Tannen. I should have guessed."

  "He's working with us," said Kyle, "on our quest to restore Oakengard's glory."

  She smiled weakly. "I'm afraid the time for glory has passed. What of Gent?"

  Tannen bolstered his voice with confidence. "He is beyond even my power, but with us two we may begin to right what is wrong. We shall require a new knight. And the trijewel to bind us into one."

  Mara's cheek twitched.

  "Dear Mara," interjected Vagram, "let me ease your pain."

  She pushed his hand aside. "The pain is welcome. It keeps me alert. Helps me combat his growing dominion over our home."

  A few eyes nervously checked Hadrian below. Not only was he alive, but he was actively continuing his efforts to control Oakengard with a terrible force of will.

  "He holds the trijewel," stated Tannen with a scowl.

  "And the Eye of Orik," pointed out Crux. "We need that too."

  Mara's gaze remained fixed on Tannen. "How can you be trusted?"

  The bishop leaned forward. "Because Oakengard must survive."

  Kyle grunted. "Listen, lady, I get where you're coming from, but we're talking about Hadrian the Whisperer down there. Literally every single person in Haven is a better candidate to hold those artifacts than him. Ask Speaker Harroway if you need to, if he's even still alive."

  The philosopher's eyes were severe up to that point, but the mention of her colleague softened her resolve. Mara rested her eyes for a moment's reflection before sighing and nodding. "I do not know if we are powerful enough to stop him, but we can certainly try."

  The old woman ground her teeth and trembled, expending great effort. The lights in the Speculum went dim and the ground shook. The rainbow lights blinked frantically as the beams of power disconnected from their host. Slowly, the spymaster's body rumbled upward. Chunks of ice crumbled away and Hadrian's body broke the surface, still encased in crystal. If Kyle was a dagger looking for a soft spot, he was sorely disappointed. The Whisperer was blanketed by gravelly pieces of sand, the crushed smoky quartz of the keepers. Not that it mattered. Simply killing Hadrian wouldn't fulfill their goals.

  Tannen yanked the trijewel from Hadrian's neck. The Whisperer shuddered and coughed, ripped from his dream state.

  "It is done!" cried Tannen. Whereas the trijewel was meant to be three separate crystals that aligned into one, it had been modified into a necklace, bound together by a cord of leather. The bishop hurriedly placed it around his neck.

  "And the Eye?" prodded Lash.

  "On it," said Crux, "but it's a delicate process." The thief hunched over Hadrian and attempted to rifle through his inventory.

  "Bishop!" called Vagram. "Assist me with the philosopher." The cleric was attempting to extricate Mara from the throne but she was partially glued.

  Hadrian collected himself before Tannen could respond. The spymaster shoved Crux away and stumbled forward, still disoriented. "Who did this?" he demanded.

  A bronze gauntlet materialized over Tannen's right hand, the half of the set he still possessed. "You need look no further than a very subject of your design!" sneered the bishop. As Hadrian turned, Tannen pounded him with a body blow. The gauntlet flared with gold light and Hadrian flew into the far wall and bounced to the floor.

  "Bishop!" pressed Vagram.

  Tannen turned and hurried to his cleric helping Mara off the throne.

  Mara's eyes went cold. "Don't bother, cleric."

  Vagram's brow furrowed. "Whatever do you mean?"

  Tannen's mighty bronze gauntlet fixed around Mara's neck and snapped her head sideways. She was dead before Vagram recoiled. The cleric fell to his knees, wise sage cradled in his lap.

  2130 Gauntlet

  "What have you done?" demanded Cleric Vagram.

  Tannen pointed an accusing finger at his subordinate. "You walk a very fine line, cleric."

  Vagram sputtered. "I did everything in your name!"

  "You didn't think I would condone your actions, did you?" growled the bishop. "Working with pagans? Allying with the Black Hats? No. I'd rather see this world reduced to oblivion."

  Tannen leapt aside as a pair of cross
bow bolts exploded into the column beside him. A silver arrow flew with greater precision, but the bishop's gauntlet struck it from the air. Conan charged, swinging his greataxe. The bishop met the blow with the armored glove, sweeping the weapon aside and disarming the barbarian. Conan countered with a heavy fist but the frail bishop was faster. His super-powered punch slammed the barbarian to the floor.

  "Do not presume to defy me!" roared Tannen. "You're outsiders. Unwelcome here. Yet as recompense for your assistance, I'll allow you to flee with your lives. I'm the Protector of Oakengard now!"

  Lash scowled and traded a glance with Kyle. They nodded together. The white knight pointed her cleaver toward the bishop, and Kyle armed himself with the other half of Tannen's equipment set, the bishop gauntlet.

  "Sorry, buddy, but you just messed with the wrong hombres."

  Lash set her jaw. "Hand over the trijewel."

  Tannen's nostrils flared at the affront. "I should have known. You look down on me and call yourselves heroes, but you're nothing more than artifact-hungry thieves."

  Glinda healed Conan as Stigg pulled him behind Kyle and Lash. Crux was hurrying to safety with Hex. Vagram smoldered on his knees, still holding Mara in his arms.

  The bishop's face went rigid. "So you've made your choice. Know that your blood will herald the beginning of a mighty kingdom." Tannen took a step toward Lash and Kyle.

  Hadrian cleared his throat and stood up. "That's my kingdom you're talking about." He wiped blood from his lip and surveyed the room. "Looks like my pest problem is a little worse than I thought."

  Kyle's eyes narrowed. "You don't know the half of it, buddy."

  "There's a lot of things a lot of you don't know too." Hadrian's eyes fell on Tannen. "Starting with you, dear bishop. I'm sorry to say, the White King doesn't reign supreme anymore."

  "Sacrilege!" he cried. Tannen turned away from Kyle and Lash and stomped toward the Whisperer. He lifted his gauntlet.

 

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