by Rachel Aaron
"Glad to have you aboard," he said, reaching out to squeeze the Sorcerer's shoulder. "Here's the plan: we're going to bust into the Council Chamber and find the king. I haven't seen a single griffin rider since the game became real, so if we stick to the roofs and out of sight of archers on the ground, we should be okay. Once we get in, we get these letters into the king's hands by any means necessary. Got it?"
Fangs in the Grass and Flameboyant both nodded, eyes set hard.
"Good," James said, turning west, but he couldn't even see the War Fortress through the castle's main keep, which was both bigger than the building they were on and separated by a good eighty feet of empty space. "We need to get to the other side of the castle complex," he said quickly, pointing at the main keep. "It'll take too long to go around the outer buildings, so I think we should go straight over the top. That should also give us a good vantage point of the council chamber on the other side. The only part I don't know is how we're going to make the jump."
"I've got an idea," Ar'Bati said, scrambling up the golden roof a bit farther to grab the weather-worn rope that was holding up a line of fluttering flags in the king's crimson and gold. Keeping low, he undid the knots and pulled the line out of the metal rings that kept it in place, then he returned to James with a long coil.
"Good thinking," James said with a grin. "But how do we get the end across?"
"I can handle that part," Flameboyant said, squinting across the gap at the keep on the other side. "See that window?" He pointed at a narrow, stone-encased window almost exactly like the one they'd broken out of, only without the bars. "Teleport goes fifty feet in a straight line. If Ar'Bati throws me, I can teleport the final distance. Once I get there, I'll tie the rope to something, and you can both climb across."
"While being shot at from below," Ar'Bati said dryly.
Flameboyant shrugged. "Climb quickly?"
"They have to shoot way up, and it's windy today," James said, peeking over the edge at the archers below. "We can make it. We'll be two cats on a wire."
"I can make it," Ar'Bati said, leaning down to tie the end of their rope to one of the metal hoops he'd just removed it from. "You might have a problem. You're still not very good at being jubatus."
"Well, I'll have to learn fast, because those archers aren't going to stay on the ground." James nodded at the runners shouting the alarm all over the castle. "This place is going on high alert. It's only a matter of time before we have soldiers up here as well, and then we'll be cornered." He turned to Flameboyant. "Do it. We'll make it work."
The Sorcerer nodded, grabbed the other end of Ar'Bati's rope, and tied it around his wrist. "Okay," he said when it was tight. "Throw me before I chicken out."
James held his breath as Ar'Bati picked up the elf. He knew firsthand just how strong the warrior was, but it was still a fifty-foot drop to the pavement, and falling damage was no joke. A drop like this could kill a max-level player, and Flameboyant was only level forty-five. If they screwed this up, he'd splat, but there was no turning back. Ar'Bati had already launched the Sorcerer into the air, throwing him across the gap with all his strength.
The elf windmilled his arms as he flew up in an arc. Arrows shot past him, nicking his fluttering crimson robes, but Flameboyant didn't even seem to notice. His attention was locked on the target window, and he watched it like a falcon as he started to fall. Then, just when James was sure something had gone wrong and they'd just thrown their friend to his death, the Sorcerer vanished in a puff of purple energy then reappeared a second later two feet on the windowsill.
Then he promptly crashed right through the window.
James winced as the glass shattered. Apparently, teleportation didn't cancel out momentum. Fortunately, the room he'd crashed into must have been empty, because Flameboyant reappeared a few seconds later, scratched up but very alive as he wrapped the rope around a table leg inside and pulled it tight.
"That's our cue," Ar'Bati said, glaring down at the archers, who were already nocking a new volley. "Ready?"
James was not, but he didn't have much of a choice. It was now or never, so he took a deep breath and charged ahead, keeping his eyes determinedly on the rope and not the drop below it as he ran on all fours across the single-line bridge Flameboyant had made for them. Ar'Bati ran right behind him, making the rope bounce and sway. The motion made James's brain spin, but as promised, his jubatus body handled it. So long as he kept his human-centric expectations out of the way, he was able to trot right across using his tail to balance. If he hadn't been so terrified, it would have been amazing, but it was hard to enjoy the spectacular feats this new form was capable of when arrows were flying past your head, so James just focused on getting across as fast as possible, racing across the rope to fall into a panting heap at Flameboyant's feet.
"Don't stop!" Ar'Bati hissed.
Before James could ask why he couldn't have two seconds to catch his breath, he heard the sound of boots in the hallway. Flameboyant had crashed into a sitting room very much like the one Lady Siku had locked them inside, except this one hadn't been modified to double as a fancy prison. The doors were plain wood, good quality but nothing that could stop a Royal Knight, much less the dozen his sharp ears could hear pounding toward them.
"Hoo boy," Flameboyant said, untying the rope from his wrist. "Better move."
Ar'Bati nodded and hooked James by the collar to yank him up. When he was back on his feet, the warrior grabbed Flameboyant around the waist and swung back outside, dodging left just in time to avoid the arrow that shattered on the wall right next to his head. Flameboyant yelped and curled himself into a red ball around the warrior's arm, which would have thrown James off balance. Again, though, his brother was a two-skull. He didn't even wobble. He just kept climbing one-handed, scaling the vertical stone wall as nimbly as a monkey.
With a final look at the door, James scrambled after them, getting his body out the window just in time as a squad of armored knights burst into the room. They were shouting at each other to draw bows when James grabbed a passing ribbon of earth magic and slapped it against the wall. He didn't have a plan, exactly, but he didn't really need one. He just shoved power into the stone until he felt something move. Seconds later, the ornamental slab above the window broke from its mortar and fell, crashing down into the opening to block their way.
Grinning at his cleverness, James shook his stinging hand and kept climbing. Between the extra-long stone-grasp spells he'd used on Siku and her guards and that move just now, he could tell his mana was getting low. His new spells didn't seem to take any more magic than the ones he'd learned from the game, but he'd been casting a lot, and he wasn't wearing healing gear. His leather armor was all Agility and Strength: great for climbing and martial arts, not so good for battle casting. He couldn't have everything, though. He resolved to save the rest of his magic for healing, using his enhanced agility to scoot past Fangs and make it to the top first.
They came out on a steep golden roof directly below the main keep's central tower. They were very high now, easily a hundred feet off the ground. Above their heads, the Bastion shone like a miniature sun, heating the air and making James's fur stand on end. He'd never been close to magic this powerful before, at least not when he could actually feel it, but the only word he could think of to describe it was divine. He was still gawking at it in wonder when Ar'Bati grabbed his shoulder.
"James!"
James blinked and turned to his brother, who was looking grimmer than James had ever seen him.
"If we're going to do this, it has to be now."
For a second, James didn't understand what Ar'Bati meant. Then he heard it. There were boots clanging on the gold-plated roof--heavy, armored boots, coming in their direction. A second later, he saw the first of the Royal Knights round the bend of the Bastion tower's base, swords already drawn.
"Run!"
The three of them bolted, scrambling along the tilted, slippery metal roof.
"The c
ouncil room should be right in front of us!" James yelled as they ran, wishing yet again that he had more intellect gear as his brain scrambled to remember the War Fortress's interior layout. "Middle floor, I think. It should be the only room with a giant window."
"But how do we get to it?" Flameboyant cried, huffing and puffing and occasionally teleporting forward as he struggled to keep up with the long-legged jubatus. "I can teleport, but I can't carry both of you. Also, I'll just be crashing through a window again, and I don't think this one's going to be as friendly a landing."
James wasn't sure. He had to think of something, though, because the end of the roof was approaching fast. He could already see the fortified peak of the War Fortress rising above the edge of the gold-metal sheeting. But it was so far away, and the knights were right behind them.
"We need to buy some time!" James yelled. "Let's try to--"
He hadn't even finished before Flameboyant spun around and unleashed a torrent of fire. The giant swirls of orange fire were so big and bright, they overpowered even the Bastion's light. They crashed into the knights chasing them like glowing waves, washing the soldiers under in a flood of smoke and flame. The men fell screaming, batting at their hair and their red-and-gold tabards and everything else flammable as the fire spread. They were still rolling on the roof when James whirled on their Sorcerer.
"What was that?"
"How could you kill the Royal Knights?" Ar'Bati demanded at the same time.
"Fire Tornado," Flameboyant said proudly before turning to glare at the head warrior. "And I didn't kill them. I'm level forty-five, remember? They're level eighty. The most I can do is give them some burns, but it still makes a good distraction. Even if you know it won't kill you, there's nothing more important than not being on fire."
Ar'Bati snorted, but James was still sputtering. "B-But Fire Tornado is a big PVP-area spell!" he said at last. "You can't even get into the rated battlegrounds until level fifty. Why do you know how to cast it?"
"I saved up my skill points to buy the spell early," the Sorcerer said proudly, drawing himself up to his full height with a toss of his crimson hair. "The great and powerful Flameboyant uses only the most spectacular of fire spells!"
"Right," James said, giving the guards, who were still rolling on the ground, one last look. "Um, good work. Now let's see what we're in for."
With that, all three of them stepped up to the edge and looked down.
Just as James remembered, the Bastion War Fortress was a sturdy old fort of a building. Unlike the rest of the palace, it had no soaring towers or pretty windows--just thick walls, arrow slits, battlements, and smokestacks for the forges. Back in the game, it had been where the Royal Knights had their headquarters, and that still seemed to be the case. The whole place was swarming with soldiers and workers churning out materials for the coming battle.
The only part of the five-story building that wasn't heavy stone, steel, and flame was the giant circular stained-glass picture window depicting the founding of the knighthood by Bastion's first king in the middle of its front face. The glass was the highest quality, big and clear enough for James to see their goal. Through the jewellike hues, the council chamber looked exactly as he remembered, only now there was a huge chair at the head of the long table, and sitting in it was a huge red-headed figure.
James's heart sped up so fast it made him light-headed. He couldn't see the man's face from so far away, but no other human in Bastion was eight feet tall and covered in sun-metal plate armor. It had to be King Gregory. Unfortunately, he wasn't alone. In hindsight, James wasn't sure why that came as a shock. Obviously, a war meeting would have to include other people, but he hadn't stopped to think about just who those people would be. Now, though, he could see the truth clearly, and it made his hammering heart slow right back down to nothing.
The room was a who's who of Bastion's most powerful and deadly. In addition to the king--who himself was a five-skull raid boss--James saw the captain of the City Guard, the captain of the castle garrison, the high priest of the Sun, the arch-sorcerer, and worst of all, Captain Malakai of the Royal Knights.
It was a lineup even Tina's crew would have had trouble with. Fortunately, the captains didn't seem aware of the disturbance outside. They were all listening to Malakai, who was sitting directly across from His Majesty, hammering his fist on the table like he was trying to make a point. No one was looking at the window or the figures on the central keep's roof above it, but James didn't think that would make a difference when they came crashing through.
"Um, guys?" he said, voice shaking as he reached down to grab the packet of letters. "Remember when I said I couldn't guarantee this wouldn't be a suicide mission? I'm going to have to revise that to 'definitely.' Going in that window is a one-way ticket, and I won't think less of either of you if you decide to--ow!"
Ar'Bati had smacked the back of his head.
"What kind of attitude is that to start a battle?" his brother snarled. "Did we not already prove we were prepared to die?" He bared his teeth. "We just broke out of prison and set knights on fire. If we do not complete our mission, the Claw Born will be branded as traitors. Incompetent traitors!" He shook his head. "I will not allow it. I'd rather die than face our father as things are now. We came to Bastion to give letters to the king, and we shall do so. Death before dishonor!"
"Hell yeah!" Flameboyant said, lifting his fists. "But I think you're being too down on our chances. Sure, that's a room full of badasses, but the high priest and the arch-sorcerer are both caster types. If we bust in on their heads, they're going to have to wind up their spells before they kill us. That gives us three seconds at least to get that bag to the king."
"What about Malakai?" James asked. "He's a four skull. I'm not sure how his fight with Tina ended since we left early, but you felt the ground shaking. If he gave her trouble, he's going to make cat-burgers out of us."
"Where is your honor?" Ar'Bati demanded. "If the priest and the sorcerer have to wait to cast, then the captains are the only true barriers between us and the king. We might be only three, but we have the element of surprise and our backs to the wall. That's a lot in our favor. Now tell me, can a four-skull survive falling three stories?"
"I think so," James said. "But--"
"Good," Ar'Bati said, clenching his fists. "Then you can leave two of the captains to me."
"I have some dirty Sorcerer tricks as well," Flameboyant said proudly. "I can keep a captain busy for ten seconds or so. No promises after that, though."
"If we live more than ten seconds, we'll figure it out from there," Ar'Bati said confidently. "You and I will take the captains, and James will handle the letters. I've been on the receiving end of his damnably inescapable arguments too many times to doubt his skill with words. If anyone can make the king listen, it is him."
"Well, if we're going, we should do it soon," Flameboyant said. "'Cause the tin cans are twitching."
The knights behind them were indeed starting to shake off the last of Flameboyant's flamboyant fire attack. Wincing, James turned back to the window, pulled his staff, and clutched it in his free hand. "We're going to have to make a big jump, and we can't miss," he said, looking at Ar'Bati. "Remember how we got into the lich's laboratory back in Red Canyon?"
"I do," Ar'Bati said with a grin. "Are we flying again?"
"We're going to try," James said, gathering the streams of wind magic into his hands. "Grab hold of my arms, guys, and get ready to jump on my mark. And in case I don't get to say this later, it's been a pleasure and an honor knowing both of--"
"No," Ar'Bati said firmly, locking his arm through James's. "No goodbyes. They curse victories. We will save all of Bastion today and be welcomed home as heroes."
"I like the sound of being a hero," Flameboyant said, grabbing onto James's other arm.
"Then let's do it," James said, winding up the last of his spell. "On three, two, one!"
He released the Gust spell he'd been building, blasting t
he three of them off the roof with a wall of wind. They jumped at the same time, adding their strength to the magical wind as they flew across the gaping chasm of empty air between the castle's main keep and the War Fortress. Below them, in the rallying square, squads of knights and guardsmen looked up in surprise at the three bodies soaring over their heads like birds to crash straight through the middle of the fortress's stained-glass window.
They burst through the colored glass like cannonballs, sending shards flying over the men gathered below. For one terrifying, almost comical moment, the greatest warriors and sorcerers of Bastion looked up in baffled confusion, their mouths falling open. Then the council room erupted into chaos as Ar'Bati folded his body, turning his fall into a flying elbow that landed straight in the face of the captain of the City Guard.
The unprepared human was flattened instantly as Ar'Bati crashed into him. After rolling right back to his feet like a true cat, Ar'Bati grabbed the astonished captain by the metal yoke of his armor and hurled him straight back the way they had come, using his monstrous strength to toss the stocky mini-boss right out the broken window before the man could come to his senses.
It was an absolutely marvelous move, but James barely caught more than a glimpse of it. He was too busy trying not to crash as he hurtled toward the middle of the war table. In the end, his jubatus body saved him again, flipping him at the last second to land on his feet. But while the two cats had it in the bag, Flameboyant was an elf. He had no supernatural instinct to assist in his landing, and he was going down fast. James was scrambling to work up another wind spell to give him something to land on when the Sorcerer vanished in a poof of purple energy then reappeared on his feet at the back of the room just in time for the two remaining captains to draw their swords and turn on him.
