by Hugo Huesca
“Not yet it isn’t!” Ed shouted back. Around them, magical hawks fell everywhere in blinding flashes that would be visible from the vantage points all over the city, and the few Inquisitors who had avoided capture or defeat were sending desperate messages while his spiders tried to finish webbing and paralyzed them.
At best, the Haunt had only a precious few minutes to enter the city before the griffin riders and the Heroes fell on them.
Ed knew that a direct confrontation with dozens—maybe hundreds—of Heroes would inevitably end with him losing. The Haunt’s only hope of victory lay in avoiding fights as much as possible, but they also needed to save as many lives as they could.
Looking down, he realized that his hands, armor, and cloak were soaked in blood that wasn’t his. With trembling fingers, he touched the pocket of his gambeson above his chest, where he kept the Shadow Tarot card that showed him a bright possible future. He took a deep breath that felt like fire in his lungs.
“Stick to the plan,” Ed told Kes. Around them, packs of his drones ran across the battlefield as the individual skirmishes died down. The drones picked up the wounded from both sides and dragged them back into the network of tunnels, where Andreena and her team of batblins waited, ready to administer life-saving aid. “The only way to evacuate the civilians is through the tunnels, but my drones cannot build with so many Inquisitors contesting the city. You’re in charge, Kes. We’re more familiar with the slums than the Inquisition, and the horned spiders know how to keep a low profile. Hide in the city, contest whatever you can, let my drones expand our network. Avoid the Heroes, and wait for Alder and Lavy to arrive before we begin the next step.”
Kes nodded curtly. “What about you, Ed? Are you still set on your path?” She regarded him with concern. “You’re going into the viper’s nest. It may be far more dangerous than out in the city. We cannot afford to lose you.”
“We cannot afford for me not to go,” Ed said. It was common knowledge that the Inquisition was based in Mullecias Heights. An event of this magnitude would require whoever was controlling the Heroes’ Quests to keep a close eye on things. There was a huge chance that if Ed went to the district, he could find the third person shown in the Shadow Tarot—the programmer from Earth. The creator of the Heroes.
If only Ed could make that person see his point of view—if he could convince him to stop the bloodbath… perhaps Ed wouldn’t have to kill again.
He didn’t dare to imagine what the consequences of failure would be. He needed this to happen, more than anything. His body burned with the urgency to end the fight. The victory condition was clear, and he was ready to die to achieve it.
Undercity was a shit-hole. It was filled with some of the worst scum Ivalis had to offer, not counting the Netherworld. Murderers, slavers, cutthroats, mercenaries, pirates, smugglers, and vandals. Its biggest industry was probably the whorehouses. It was easy to think that nothing of value would be lost if it followed Burrova’s fate.
But Ed had lived among them. He’d seen bravery among Thieves, and loyalty, and even kindness. He’d seen the way the moons shone on the calm sea above the harbor, and he’d also seen the dawn painting the mountains gold and red across the horizon. The people from Undercity had welcomed him in with open arms, passing no judgment. A reject among rejects. Undercity was the Haunt’s older sister, who had been through some rough times, but was pulling together.
Ed loved this city.
Right then and there, covered in Inquisitorial blood, he decided they would only pull him away over his cold, dead body.
To his surprise, Kes pressed the issue no further. “Very well,” she said, clutching his forearm firmly. “Mullecias will be vulnerable. The Inquisition needs most of their manpower to keep the city on lock-down. They’ll never expect an attack. Use surprise to your favor, do what you need to do, and get out quickly.” She pulled him forward, so both warriors stood face to face. “Don’t die, Ed.”
Ed smiled fiercely and grasped her forearm back. “Sure. Take care as well. Try not to lose any more fingers.”
With that, he left to find the Haga’Anashi and Queen Laurel, and Kes and the rest of the Haunt stormed the gates, the drones quickly chomping through the uncontested iron.
The Haunt’s troops entered Undercity through the Western Gate, finding only token amounts of resistance as they delved further toward the slums, where the battle was raging. A couple griffin riders took potshots at them from above, but Kaga’s Monster Hunters shot volleys of crow familiar runes at them, forcing the Inquisitors to retreat.
Perhaps Alvedhra was there, circling the city, watching the carnage.
Kes shook her head to clear it.
It was Burrova all over again. Adrenaline pumped through Kes’ veins, turning the world into a hyper-real canvas where everything seemed to happen in slow motion, and rational thinking was difficult, like swimming through honey. The flames that engulfed the buildings along the canal had an eerie, otherworldly calmness to them, and even the screams faded after a while, as her brain deemed them not directly worrisome. She saw families running down the streets, and groups doing their best to organize a resistance—Thieves, Akathunians, Necromancers, Witch Doctors, and many more. Undercity wasn’t without teeth… but the Inquisition was adept at breaking those.
Kes had a warrior’s mentality, her body reacting to the danger around her, emptying her mind of anything that would distract her from the only two reactions that ever truly mattered—fight or flight.
Had she been a mere foot-soldier, she would’ve welcomed the hyper-awareness. But she was in command. Again.
How did that happen? Last time, she’d gotten her entire squad killed. And now here she was, leading brave men and critters to their doom. What had she ever done to deserve that kind of responsibility?
Get a grip, Ria told her, coming to Kes once again, as the sergeant did whenever she was needed. Every second counts. If you wish for your men to survive, the best way is to achieve your objectives as fast as you can.
Kes swallowed and fought for a second with the tightness in her throat. And then even the beat of her heart seemed to fade away as discipline replaced animal instinct. “Alright, everyone, we’ve got a job to do. Queen Laurel, you and your spiders are on area-denial duty. Get every civilian from here all the way to the slums to safety—we need to clear a path for Lavy and Alder, they’re counting on us. If a family is hiding inside a building, secure all entrances with web as best as you can.”
Queen Laurel—No, it’s Empress now, Kes thought—moved forward, her huge black bulk like a shadow in front of the darkening sky. Somehow, she was now bigger than her mother had ever been, and still growing. “The Spider Empire shall do as you ask, Marshall of the Haunt. What will we do about the Inquisition and their creations?”
“Lead them here after the civilians are safe. The Inquisition is looking for a fight, so let’s give them one.”
“Most excellent!” The Empress clicked her mandibles in approval, then turned to face her underlings. “Queen Cornelia, take command of Bumelia’s cluster and evacuate the meat-sacks. Pirene, you are on standby. Reinforce the Marshall if need be. My own cluster shall take the most dangerous task and lure away the Inquisition,” she announced proudly. The rest of the spiders clicked their approval and scattered into the night.
Kes watched them go for an instant. She’d never in her entire life seen as many horned spiders as the amount gathered tonight. Just the spiderlings were enough to cover the pavement in a shifting tide of chitin. It was as if a black sea had flooded the city. She could only thank whichever god was willing to listen that they were on the Haunt’s side.
Next, boot! Ria urged her. The Marshall broke out of her reverie and turned to Klek and his Spider Riders.
“Klek, you’re on life-saving duty,” she explained. “Your team is nimble and excellent at infiltration. Get to those in need that our spiders cannot reach and do what you can for them.”
Klek nodded, fearless. �
��We’ll return when we’re done, Kes. Lord Ed’s gonna need some Adventurer Baning.” He gestured at his batblins and his spiders, with Tulip by his side, trembling with the need to fight. “This way, Spider Riders!”
“See you on the other side,” Kes said as they left. She couldn’t help but marvel at the way Klek only seemed afraid when the danger was mundane—a wolf. Starvation, staying out in the rain… but when his people faced danger far beyond the norm for a batblin cloud, it was as if the little batblin turned to steel. As if somehow all his life had prepared him for this, even without realizing it.
Who were you before the Haunt? she wondered. Then, she turned to Kaga and his Monster Hunters. “You’re with me. We’ll need to bring Lavy’s dish and Ed’s drones to the highest point we can secure before Alder and Lavy enter the city.” She nodded toward the drone team Ed had summoned—thirty of them, huddled near the gates, waiting for her signal to move forward. Ed had brought as many drones as he could create outside a dungeon’s ley lines, putting him at capacity and leaving him at even more risk, since most of his fighting style involved droning his opponents in the dirtiest ways possible.
“It’s going to get ugly,” Kaga said quietly. The Monster Hunter’s eyes were distant—he was thinking of his father and his clan, who were right now infiltrating Mullecias Heights along with Ed. “But we shall not fail you, Marshall. I stake my honor on my duty.”
“I know,” Kes said. Now she faced Costel, the leader of the Haunt’s guard, who Kes had trained as best as she could, given the time-frame. “While Kaga and I move forward, you and your men will protect the drones. Ed is too far away to summon more for us, so this lot is the one we got. Protect them—and their cargo—with your lives.”
The guardsmen exchanged nervous, terrified glances, as the drones moved forward at Kes’ signal, dragging a cart with Lavy and Pholk’s enchanted dish.
“Why?” asked Old Ivan nervously. “What’s so important about some dirty glass?”
“That’s our win condition,” was all Kes said.
27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Summoned Hero
Scappi lost his footing and fell face first into a puddle, splashing murky water everywhere and screaming in surprise.
“Shut it, kid!” Oscor whispered angrily as he helped the gnome stand up. “You’ll make every Hero in the neighborhood come after us!”
The rest of the smugglers fanned out to keep an eye on all exits. Wufroc, Sköm, and Cimeko remained near Oscor. They first two were his cousins, who had come with him all the way from the Manslan peaks. Cimeko was his on-and-off lover. Together, the four had braved countless danger and hardship. But nothing like this.
“What do we do, Boss?” Wufroc asked, as Scappi hurried along.
“There’s a Thieves Guild safehouse three blocks from here,” Oscor said. “If we reach it, maybe they’ll hide us.”
One of his smugglers hurried his way. “There are four Heroic parties spread throughout the area,” the young dwarf said with a trembling voice. Only a few months ago, he’d been a heavy pixie dust user. Oscor had helped him get off the stuff, but the tremors remained. “They have magic-users slinging explosive spells. It’s like they’re trying to bring the slums down.”
Perhaps the entirety of Undercity, Oscor thought bleakly. “We must sneak past,” he said aloud.
“Heads up, over there!” another smuggler warned. Oscor followed the man’s finger and saw the Heroic Wizard, floating in the middle of the air with a careless air to its blank face. The construct wasn’t looking at them, thankfully, but it raised a hand somewhere in their general direction.
“What is he going to—” the enhanced fireball cut everyone’s short. The impact was like a giant’s hammer crashing against the building right next to the alley. The dying day shone bright for an instant, and then Oscor was lifted from the ground by an invisible force and thrown against the opposite wall like a rag-doll in a storm.
Seconds—or minutes—later, he stood up, rubble and dust falling from his body. His dwarven complexion, along with a couple Endurance talents, had eaten the brunt of the spell.
The pain in his ribcage, though, told him he had a couple broken bones to nurse. Later. If he survived.
“Who’s still alive?” he breathed. The alley was in ruins, the smoke too thick to see, rock, glass, and rubble everywhere. A wall had collapsed.
“Over here!” Cimeko called. Oscor rushed that way, relief flooding through his body.
Cimeko was helping Sköm get up. The dwarf was badly wounded, with a nasty wooden spike protruding from his side, blood quickly soaking his shirt. He looked barely conscious, too shocked to react. Oscor grunted and threw Sköm’s arm around his back.
“We need to reach the safehouse before we’re buried along with the slums,” Oscor said.
The three of them had barely had time to hobble to the end of the alley when the ruins of the building that had taken the enhanced fireball shook, and a shower of boulders rained down.
Oscor saw a burning iron beam approach. It all happened in less than a second. He pushed Sköm and Cimeko out of the way, and then disappeared under the impact.
Ed watched from the shadows behind the old mansion as the Militant soldiers paced atop their watchtowers, their eyes buffed by talents or spells to pierce the darkness like those of a cat. The array of alarm spells and magical defenses that formed the second line of defense would put the Inquisition on high alert that their main base in Undercity was under attack as soon as he made his move. Even with the element of surprise and the knowledge that most Inquisitors were out in the field, trying to keep a tight grasp on the city as his minions wrestled it from them, it was impossible for the Haunt to hold the mansion for long.
But then again, Ed only needed a few minutes. Enough for a chat, perhaps. He gripped his sword’s handle. Outside, by the slum, innocent people were dying.
“Do it,” he ordered, not taking his eyes from the watchtowers even for a second.
At once, Kagelshire gave the signal and one of his kaftar messaged the clan’s Shaman, who was working his way through the Inquisition’s defensive spells. Ed saw nothing to show that anything had changed—no show of light, no noise. It made sense. It was a kind of magical warfare designed for the user to remain as inconspicuous as possible.
Kagelshire turned to Ed. “It’s done,” the Chieftain told the Dungeon Lord. “We’ve got a breach right between those watchtowers. We climb the wall there, they won’t know until we let them. Shaman Toremil is out of spells, though.”
Ed nodded, taking the news into account. The Haga’Anashi came from their hidden spots across the shadows of the parks that surrounded the mansion, almost as skilled as Thieves. A few rushed the walls, their feet wrapped in cloth to mask the noise of their steps, and others took aim with exotic blowpipes made of shiny wood. At a signal from Kagelshire’s lieutenants, the blowpipes opened fire, and darts arced through the sky like a swarm of angry black bees, up above Mullecias Heights, and down with deadly aim into the unsuspecting Militant soldiers manning the towers.
The soldiers gasped, bent over, and collapsed in a few seconds. A couple had enough time to shout weak warnings, loud enough for Ed to hear, but likely not enough for the Inquisitors inside the mansion. Hopefully.
“Arrows would’ve been faster,” Kagelshire said with just a hint of reproach.
“It’s difficult to convince someone you’re not evil after killing half their men,” Ed pointed out. “This is a war. I know that. But that doesn’t mean we need to take more lives than necessary.”
Kagelshire said nothing. The Chieftain’s eyes were hard and cold, and wouldn’t leave the black mass of the mansion even a second.
The kaftar climbed the walls and disappeared inside along with a trickle of white spiderlings from Gloriosa’s brood. The albino Queen waited for further orders close by, surrounded by her princesses and her guard.
After a while, Kagelshire nodded briefly. “The defenses
are down. They don’t expect a thing. Those cocky assholes didn’t keep even a single griffin in reserve.”
Ed glanced at the sky. He didn’t share Kagelshire’s confidence. The Inquisition had many tricks up their sleeve. They could summon reinforcements with magical circles, or simply message their griffins to come back. And if there were a team or two of Heroes nearby, the Haga’Anashi could suffer catastrophic losses.
“Let’s go,” Ed said. “Be quick, be silent, and try to take as many prisoners as possible. We won’t have much time after they discover us.” He strode over to Gloriosa. “My thanks, Queen Gloriosa, for allowing me to hitch a ride. I’m afraid I’m not as good a climber as our kaftar allies.” Only a horned Queen was big enough to withstand the weight of a grown man wearing heavy armor, but as a rule of thumb, Queens of any species weren’t in the habit of letting others ride them into battle.
Gloriosa clicked her thanks. “And you have my appreciation, Dungeon Lord, for asking instead of ordering.”
Ed hopped on and clung to her as best as he could. It was harder than Klek made it look. The chitin was rough and serrated, and the stiff hair made the experience not exactly pleasant. Together, Dungeon Lord and Spider Queen headed into battle, surrounded by the albino cluster and the Haga’Anashi. They passed the walls to step down into a silent garden behind the mansion, thick with underbrush and exotic flowers.
There was no one around, but as the warriors headed deeper inside, Ed caught sight of a pair of feet sticking out of a bush—Kagelshire’s infiltrators had done their job.
“Spread out,” Ed told his forces. “Don’t let them organize a resistance. If you see any Hero, report it and retreat. Any prisoner you get, web them to the trees.” That would hopefully buy some time to retreat. He turned to Kagelshire. “Good luck.”
“To you as well, Dungeon Lord.” The Chieftain and his men fanned out toward the mansion and began their climb. They were here with a purpose—to find the captured Haga’Anashi and either free them or retrieve their bodies.
