“Are you sure?” Bethany asked. “I could say the name, but that would give the game away, if anyone else is listening in.”
Angelica jerked a nod. “I’m sure. Just remind her what the foyer looked like, and give her your old room number.”
Bethany smiled. “Will do.” She turned to meet Val’s gaze. “This is beyond risky, Val. Even if I should reach her, if anything unexpected comes to pass...”
“I could be walking into a fatal ambush orchestrated by people who know what it means to strike from the shadows just as well as I do. I know. But if we don’t do this...”
“Your people will be butchered, and the entire Dominion thrown into civil war.”
“Pretty much.”
Dominion Rift accessed!
“Valor Hunter, hold! There are a thousand things we must attend to, and an entire continent after your head! You haven’t even spoken to your father in days!” Val glanced Christine’s way and saw his father approaching from the manor, gazing at him with the strangest expression.
Val felt a knot in his chest, struck by sudden guilt, at last understanding why he had kept his father so firmly out of mind.
It was shame.
The darkness he reveled in.
The things he had done.
Drowning his soul in a river of blood.
The runes upon his scarred face, glowing even now.
He rose his hand in farewell, just as he had done a few short years ago when waving his father off from the barracks. Much to his heartfelt relief, his father’s features, once a mirror of his own, were utterly free of judgement, a single sad smile upon his face as he waved to his son in turn.
Val swallowed, turning around with a final salute, unable to bear the love in the man’s gaze a second longer.
A heartbeat later he was on his dwarven low-rider, purring towards the gate, Bethany in her own battle-mech once more. He purposely ignored Christine’s increasingly strident demands that he hold off his exit, knowing she would be horrified if she truly knew what he was planning to do, blocked memories rushing to the fore as he took a deep breath, gazing at the wispy outline of Phoebe in the daytime sky, its clarity disturbed not at all by the Haunting Luminescence all around.
“You ready, Bethany?”
“Damn right I am, husband.”
Revving his engines, Val roared through the gate, Bethany a heartbeat behind.
35
Despite their pressing needs, Val was still humbled by the magic that allowed him to hop halfway across the world in a heartbeat, immediately noting how different the northern and southern continents smelled, dawn replaced by dusk and the scents of thyme, honeysuckle, and a sea of flowers bobbing in the evening breeze.
Even as he was struck anew by how precious and beautiful this world was, he didn’t hesitate for a second to let the cool gloom envelop him, all sense of awe and wonder tinged by desperate anxiety fading in the periphery as he blended into the night behind Bethany’s crashing feet as her battle-mech immediately dashed for the fallow fields to the south of the massive research center he called home, to the right of the impressive barracks being built by new recruits even now. Soft shadowless orbs of pink light bending so many Terran rules of physics perfectly juxtaposed the inky gloom Val had fully embraced once more, as much the shadowy night as the companion trailing just to Bethany’s side as she desperately tried to contact the hyperion signal a blushing Angelica had given her, at last getting through.
“You shouldn’t be calling. You shouldn’t even have this number.”
For all that he was as much shadow as Val, the memory of who he was felt his heart lurch in his throat, hearing his sister’s throaty voice pierce the night air so clearly.
“Please, don’t hang up,” Bethany pled. “This is important, F—”
“Say no names!” Faith hissed, and Val feared the inevitable broken signal, Bethany’s gasp from within her mech projected into the transceiver Val had secured to his hover-blade just as clearly as Faith’s own voice.
“Please!”
“I assume you are calling to request a contract?” Faith’s voice had instantly changed in tenor and inflection. No longer the voice Val recognized so clearly, her tone was one of a cold professional.
“Yes,” Val said, mind racing as a desperate plan slipped into place. “I have an associate for whom a contract was placed. I seek counsel. What fiscal remuneration can be paid to neutralize such a contract?”
“None,” said the voice, harsh and cold.
Val’s gut clenched at those words.
“But there are precedents… you can sue for the right to delay.”
Val blinked. That could work. “How much?”
He could almost imagine his sister’s wry smile, for all that her tone didn’t change. “One tenth the bounty offered buys the target one day of clemency. No more than three days can be so purchased. If the target cannot come to an accord with the client, no further mercy may be extended.”
Val gave a slow nod. “Understood. Could a potential client hire your clan for an unorthodox assignment?”
A painfully long pause. “No target may hire our clan to take out a client. Not under any circumstances.”
“And what if your target was already a client?” Bethany said archly.
Val winced, feeling the sudden chill. “There are no records of our target hiring our clan whatsoever. Is that clear?” A quiet curse could be heard. “Speak quickly. You have less than a minute.”
Val spoke breathlessly. “I would like to hire a Dauda agent to pick up a package and deliver it to every branch of their clan that they can, throughout the known galaxy.”
A breathless pause. “What is the nature of this package?”
Val swallowed. If there was any chance any enemy agent was listening… “It’s a message alone. We’ll pay one million credits up front. Ten million more if the message is delivered to the clan heads of at least ten different systems… but even one, we’ll consider worth the retainer.”
Val thought he could hear footsteps through the speaker. “Address!” his sister hissed.
Bethany’s soft voice washed over the hyperion line before the connection went dead.
The pair stood there, Val on his bike, Bethany in her battle-mech, both utterly motionless, just part of the shadowy field, listening to the sharp chirrup of Jordian crickets, scents of wisteria, honeysuckle, and the lemon peppery scents of exotic blooms Val never did catch the name of heavy on the air. He smiled up at Phoebe, hanging brilliantly in the nighttime sky, almost able to imagine living the life of a sailor exulting in the wondrous seas covering so much of that beautiful blue planet.
“It could so easily be a trap, Val,” Bethany said, caressing his mind with her milk-honey concern. “She gave no formal answer. I only hope she got the address and understood the time you intended to meet her. If anyone else intercepts… they could strike you dead, since Faith never formally agreed to anything.”
Val smiled and nodded. “I know. But we have to take the chance.”
“Because everything rides on it,” Bethany sighed. “I know.” A sad chuckle drifted in the night air. “The other half of your plan is the most insane of all, Valor. I doubt either of us will survive it.”
Val clenched his fist. The very thought of Bethany, Angelica, or anyone else he cared about being recaptured, becoming Kentric’s pleasure slave once more… “You’re needed at Greengrove, Bethany. We both know what I’m going to attempt is pure madness.”
Bethany snorted. “We already worked out our plan, Val. I’m a big girl. So is Angelica. All of us are. And you’re keeping us Spirit Linked!” she snapped. “Any surge, even halfway across the world, let alone a hundred miles, we’ll feel. You already proved that. We might not make out more than a sentence, but if we feel anything from you...”
“If they don’t buy your story, if anything feels off...”
“We’re out, holed up in Greengrove. We know.”
Val nodded. “If thin
gs go well, we might have another exit point soon. All of you will be attuned to it, so you should feel it the moment you enter any gate, sensing it as another destination you can jump to.”
He could taste Bethany’s smile in his mind. “This really is like a game to you, isn’t it, Val? Your leveling up, accruing exotic powers, building jump portals, a conquest map… as primitive as we think you Terrans are, your minds are absolutely perfect for the battlefield.” She chuckled throatily. “Our future daughters will shine brilliantly on the training field. It’s their academic studies that worry me though, husband.”
Val flushed at those words, though he couldn’t help smiling. “One day. It’s a beautiful thought, Bethany.”
“So live. Live to make it come true. For both of us.”
At that moment, minds linked, Val felt such a connection to the beautiful Highlord piloting her engine of destruction that all he could do was smile and wipe away a tear. “Love you, Beth.”
“Love you, Val. Now go.”
And he did.
Desperate need compelled him to act with all haste. Val slipped into his dwarven city for too brief a time, Ava’s solemn blue eyes and soft gray features claiming a piece of his heart and the bronze cube and Dominion transceiver he left behind before embracing the night once more.
Now he was just another shadow in the growing dusk a single mile away from a priceless ruin, slipping through the cracks and crevices of a night of feasting and revelry held within a Highlord’s great hall. Shadows so thick not even the piercing eyes belonging to faces too awkward and imperfect to be anything but adventurers could pierce the gloom.
Highlord Avarum’s eyes danced with barely concealed avarice Shadow needed no special powers to sense, even as he raised his crystal glass in toast to the crowd of adventurers at his table, all of them drinking spiced wine as they devoured an impressive spread of roasted meats, poached fish, and exotic fruits a rainbow of colors unlike anything seen on Earth, though the words mango, durian, and passion fruit could be heard exchanged between pleased devourers, greasy mouths savoring every bite as their eyes lit up with thoughts of adventure in the days to come.
And the murky corners of the room remained undisturbed as the night wore on, dreary competitors for sparkling eyes caught up in dreams of wealth, glory, and visions of the exotic dwarven artifacts that would soon be theirs.
And one by one, pairs of hungry eyes were caught by visions of exquisite beauty or luscious sensuality that, one by one, drew those adventurers off to the guest houses an easy cobblestone walk away from the central manor, the scent of midnight blossoms and the taste of sweet, lingering kisses luring every last delver away. Until the grand manor was at last free of the grating presence of uncouth apes, as a muttering man wearing the cold, cold features of a former inquisitor at last dropped the act of bonhomie, shuddering with relief to be free of such nauseating burdens before flashing an icy smile at dreams of the wealth soon to be his.
Scowling for just a heartbeat before the vision of beauty that was his newest acquisition caught the Highlord’s eye at the top of the fine polished hardwood stairs. Gloved fingers reflexively squeezed the banister as the doe-eyed girl failed to suppress her shudder of fear.
Avarum chuckled throatily, savoring the stride to his luxuriously appointed quarters. Hungers suppressed for unbearable hours could be released once more as he savored forbidden delights, his pleasure made all the sweeter with dreams of the wealth to come.
Before stopping and spinning suddenly around, Psiblade unleashed with a crackling hum.
Contest of skills… Shadowmind holds!
Lips pursed in a displeased frown before the soft sounds of a girl’s tears stretched his hard features into a rictus of a smile, slipping forward on suddenly silent feet, in sweetest anticipation of the pleasures to come.
And a night of delicious revelry was torn free of delusion’s mask, revealing the screams and horror forever just a single miscalculation away.
Avarum tried to speak, to plead for clemency, all to no avail.
His most sacred prize torn from him, Shadow took its due.
36
“May I help you?”
Despite all that had happened, Val still felt a jolt of excitement as he approached the busy-looking attendant just inside a tent overshadowed by the massive stone entrance to the recently excavated ruins, buried into the side of the forest-covered mountain just beyond.
Before entering the tent, Val had caught sight of a handful of adventurers dressed in an odd collection of metal armor, Highlord battlemesh, and robes shimmering with what could only be arcane enchantments, all of them readying themselves just before the massive stone doors leading to the unexplored dwarven ruin. Val had found it a bit odd that for all they had radiated competence, as much as he could tell in that split second, none of them had looked a day over twenty.
The officious-looking man now before Val was wearing a cashmere suit strikingly similar to Terran norms, save for a neckband of bright silver where one might expect a tie. Val thought it a bit odd, before recalling Overlord Caesar looking as resplendent as any kingpin in his ivory white suit, smiling so coldly as he announced his corporate takeover of Earth upon every television set in the world.
No doubt that monster had inspired a flurry of tailor-made outfits, Dominion-wide.
The man’s perfect Jordian features furrowed in a slight frown. “Terran, do you understand basic Jordian? You should have received a language upload with your class selection. Or are you one of those odd ones whose mind refuses to upload even the best quality mem-tapes?”
Val raised a curious eyebrow. “Mem-tapes?”
The man flashed a humorless grin. “Ah. You can speak. Wonderful. And how may I help you today, Terran? As if I couldn’t already deduce why you’re here.”
Val frowned at those words and the smirk on the man’s face, carefully noting the pair of bored-looking guards behind him, wearing dusty Dominion armor and jaded expressions. Their odd game involving seven-sided dice and wooden chips upon an ivory board paused as they gazed his way.
The bureaucrat’s gaze hardened as Val approached the fine hardwood table he sat behind, putting palms covered in fine dwarven armor on the table, much like the rest of him was presently armored in. Not the smoky gray armor so similar in appearance to ancient lorica segmentata, but the far more common shimmering alloy favored by over half the adventurers present even now, for all that it gave him no bonuses to stealth or Shadowmind.
He was glad the barbute helm perfectly covered the runes on his brow. This day of all days, he wanted to fit in.
Finesse check made! The tent flap curtains seemed to close of their own accord, Val’s hand flickering as he caught the bureaucrat's eye, silken cord squirreled away.
“Forgive me, I’m afraid the glaring sun is a bit much for my eyes. Far more sensitive in this synthetic body than they are back home.”
Subterfuge check: success! As if the bureaucrat hadn’t been looking for an excuse to cut out the glare himself.
The man frowned, though when a guard glared Val’s way, he gave a quick shake of his head. Val had been right, he hadn’t been a fan of the bright morning glare either.
“Synthetic body? Ah, you understand your nature better than most of your kind, so I will forgive your impertinence and ask you a final time. Why are you here?”
“I’m here to help,” Val said. “I’m here to join the trial.”
The man quirked a single eyebrow. “Trial?”
Val grinned with all the excitement of a kid playing his first MMORPG. “The Delve, archaeological exploration, tomb raid, whatever you want to call it. You’ve hired adventurers to explore the secrets inside that mountain, right? With prime rates offered for any dwarven treasure we unveil, and a guaranteed reward of a hundred thousand credits just for daring to enter, right? Well, count me in!”
Persuasion skillcheck: Failure!
“I’m afraid you are too late, adventurer. Highlord Avarum already
has eight adventurers willing to participate in the exploration. Promised rewards have already been assigned.” The man’s gaze hardened. “We have already suffered a number of delays, and my lord will no longer pay out precious coin to fools popping out of nowhere, when instructions were clearly posted at all the major adventurer hubs, weeks ago. Issues of quota and punctuality aside, he is only interested in those possessing a certain quality of character.”
The functionary looked to the entrance. “You are dismissed, Terran. And you may tell any gate-crashing associates that they are also unwelcome. My lord will not waste time on those who show such poor regard for protocol and propriety with no reputation to speak of, no doubt scurrying back into the shadows the moment their purses are full.”
The pair of guards were standing at full attention, alert eyes glaring daggers at Val.
“You’ve been dismissed, Terran. You’ll have to find adventure elsewhere,” said the first, his hand on his blaster.
The second nodded. “Go back to the city, kid. Mercenary exchange has plenty of openings for mercs who can hold a blaster, especially now.”
Val’s mind raced, considering the options before him.
Sensing no malice, merely bored men doing their job.
And he was technically a day late, and didn’t want to play his trump card quite yet.
He smiled, knowing what was closest to the heart of bored soldiers and bureaucrats everywhere.
“I totally understand,” he said, deliberately placing first one 10,000 credit coin on the wooden table before the wide-eyed bureaucrat. Then another, and another. Turning to include the speechless guards in his smile. “I can only imagine what it’s like, working hard at your job, hardly appreciated by those in charge, with silly Terran explorers asking the stupidest questions, arrogant in their expectations, as if everyone was expected to bend over backwards to please them.
“The way I see it, men like you work hard enough at your job. It’s about time an adventurer showed you some respect and appreciation,” he said, carefully pulling free a flask of what he had thought an excellent alternative to Terran brandy from the canteen he had purchased it from, just hours ago, while doing his shopping at the town adjoining Highlord Avarum’s manor for preserved rations and basic survival gear.
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