Justin was momentarily diverted by this. “Do you have people in your bandit crew whose job it is to simply find food?”
“Of course we do,” he said. He looked at him as if he were crazy. “How else are we supposed to eat?”
For a moment, all he could do was stare. He had assumed that bandits stole food like they stole other things. He shook his head by way of apology. “So they don’t come over the walls. That’s right. They didn’t follow us past the gate, even the big one.”
“And it’s not your magic,” Zaara concluded, looking at the bandit. “For a spell like that, you’d have to have quite a sorcerer in your band.”
“If we were that strong, we’d have killed Sephith ourselves and taken his tower,” Hildon said with a snort. “No, magic is a rare enough thing—and powerful, even when the wielder is inexperienced.” He gave Justin a wry look.
“Just so you know, I’m leveling up his Sick Burn skill,” the AI told him.
Justin sighed but the man’s words sank in and he stood so quickly his chair tipped. He picked it up, not looking at it, and walked to the block of stone.
“Justin?” Lyle called. In a stage whisper, he added to the others, “The boy’s not right in the head. Ye’ll have to forgive him.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He could see the hexagonal shape now and his fingers brushed away the dust to reveal tiny grooves—as if a frame of some kind would sit on the block of stone. “These ruins appeared out of nowhere a few weeks ago, yes? And they were perfectly preserved, as if no one had been here and no one had ever found them, yes?”
“Yes,” their host said. He stood and moved to join Justin with the rest of the group. “Why?”
He pointed to the stone. “What you said about taking Sephith’s tower made me think. This block of stone would fit his throne awfully well. It was a machine and sucked people’s souls out of them and stored the energy to give it to him. When he sat in the chair, it gave him their power.”
“This was Sephith’s,” Zaara whispered. She looked around. “But we only killed him two weeks ago and they said this has been here for months.”
“I don’t understand all of it,” he said and shook his head. “It would explain some parts of it, though. The strength of the barrier spells, for instance. It seems like they protect whoever owns the ruins.”
“They do,” the bandit said. “When the witch said we stole something of hers, she wasn’t lying—well, not exactly. She laid claim to the ruins first, but she left one day for some reason. We snuck in to check the storerooms—and when we had our people in the throne room, she couldn’t get in.”
Justin began to laugh.
“What?” Hildon looked confused.
“I told ye,” Lyle said. “He’s not all there.”
“No, it’s…” He wiped at his eyes. “It’s…oh, God, my stomach hurts. One second. Ow. Okay. It’s only the mental image of…” He broke down in tears of laughter again. “Of us trying to sneak into the ruins at night and running into an invisible wall at high speed.”
Even Zaara snickered at that mental image.
“Ah, yes.” Their host looked intrigued. “We did bring you here ourselves, didn’t we? Otherwise, I suppose you would never have gotten in.”
“Ye could have simply holed up,” Lyle said.
“And lived in a stone warren for the rest of our lives?”
“It worked fer the dwarves, dinnit?”
Justin sensed the conversation going off-track and steered it back. “This is good and bad. The spells are still holding enough to protect the people inside the ruins but the ones keeping it hidden have already fallen apart. I’m not sure that staying here is something we can count on to keep us safe.”
The others nodded as one of the bandits came into the room and drew Hildon away to mutter something in a low tone. The bandit leader frowned and replied, and when the man was gone, he looked at Justin.
“Your friend needs more help than we can provide. We’ve slowed the spread of the infection but we can’t stop it.”
He closed his eyes. “It’s stronger magic than anyone could be expected to heal.” He felt terrible guilt now. The blacksmith had returned to help them, and this was the reward he’d received for his trouble. Then, a thought occurred to him. “The widow—the one we found the wedding ring for. If anyone could cure this—”
“She could.” Zaara ran to her pack and rummaged in it. “Everyone, check what you have. She gave us potions. Some might be able to keep him alive until we get him to her.”
“You want us to go out there again?” Lyle demanded. “Are ye mad?”
“The boy, as you call him, is right.” Hildon clapped the dwarf on the shoulder. “This is no true refuge—it’s a trap. The longer we wait here, the stronger our enemy gets and the weaker we become. A bandit learns to never stay in one place for too long.”
“Ye’d never make a proper dwarf,” he said grumpily.
“That’s as may be, Master Stout. Now, if you will all excuse me, I will tell my people to make ready.”
“Your people—you’re coming with us?” Justin gaped in surprise.
“You barely made it here alive and the enemy will only have grown while we sat. Not only that, but we also need to leave as well.” The man paused. “And, I admit, I’m interested to meet this widow you spoke of.”
“She’s ninety if she’s a day,” he said flatly.
“That’s not why.” Hildon pinned him with a glare. “Any healer who might heal something like this is an ally worth having. More than that, though, curses and hidden ruins tell me we need someone with a long memory. There’s no telling what she might know.” He nodded at all of them. “Get some sleep. We’ll be on the road within an hour or two at most, and you were near-drained when you arrived. We’ll need your fire magic when we’re on the road again.”
“Is there anyone you can leave?” Justin called as the bandit leader strode away. “If what’s out there is the witch’s power, I wouldn’t like the idea of it having a hideout.”
Hildon paused while he considered this. Finally, he nodded and continued to walk away.
“Well, if we’re abandoning this place, I’m having more stew,” Zaara said. “You all should, too.”
“I’d kill for a proper mug of ale,” Lyle said wistfully.
“Think of it this way. If we go to East Newbrook, we can get some ale.” He was only joking and so he was amused to see his friend perk up at this.
“That’s true. I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
Lyle shook his head at Zaara, who grinned and lowered her head to hide her laughter.
“Well, then,” Justin said. “For ale and honor.”
“Ha.” The dwarf nudged him with an elbow. “Now there’s an oath. We’ll make a dwarf of you yet, lad.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
The bandits made ready to leave with surprising efficiency. A few came in to get bowls of stew, talked in low voices amongst themselves, and nodded at the adventurers. Some—Justin guessed it was those who had been on guard duty—came to take naps. They slept on the floor with their heads propped on their packs as if they could sleep anywhere at any time.
It was decided that a contingent would stay behind to guard the throne room and keep some of the horses.
“It’s a risk,” Hildon said when he asked him about it, “but so is going. A few, like your dwarven friend, had no interest in making the journey. He can stay with them if he likes.”
Justin looked at Lyle, who was helping to tie packs down in the back of a cart. He was tempted to refuse on behalf of the dwarf but he knew that was unfair. However much he believed it was the safest thing to leave, he could not volunteer him for that.
To his surprise, his teammate shook his head when he asked if he wanted to stay.
“I owe ye my freedom, remember?”
“Lyle.” He was smiling. “You’ve fought at my side since then. I think we can consider ourselves beyond keeping debts.”
Th
e dwarf gave him a considering look. “An’ here I was, thinking ye were a useless city boy when we met.”
“I was a useless city boy when we met.” He grinned at him.
SELF BURN, Level 2
“Aye, true enough.” Lyle shook his head. “But, no. I’ve seen enough from the two o’ ye—I’ll be safer at your side than anywhere else.” He cleared his throat and looked away, his cheeks unusually ruddy. “Er…I mean t’say, ye’d be helpless without me. I can’t leave ye, not in good conscience.”
“You’re a good man,” Justin told him. He tried to catch Zaara’s glance but she was watching the dwarf with a certain softness in her eyes. Curious, he pushed through the crush to her and helped her to load packages onto a cart. “Are you surprised by our friend’s softer side?”
She didn’t answer for a while. Her cheeks flushed, she swallowed. When she spoke, her voice was a little unsteady. “No one’s ever wanted to…I mean…no one’s ever said anything like that about me. My father never believed in me at all, not that way, and the people of East Newbrook tolerated me, but none of them would risk anything to fight with me.” She cleared her throat again, a surprisingly gruff harrumph.
“Do you think you’ll ever go home?” he asked curiously. “Go back, I mean. To Riverbend.”
She considered this but didn’t have the chance to answer. The carts had barely been loaded a moment before but they were already in motion, and Hildon trotted up to them with another of his leaders.
“Mistress Zaara,” he said. “You’ll ride with me. Justin, you’ll ride with Mira.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Why?” Zaara asked. He was pleased to see that she didn’t seem exceedingly happy about the idea of riding with the man.
“We have archers with flaming arrows in each cart,” the bandit said, “but there’s no knowing where we’ll need reinforcement. Mira and I will keep the two of you mobile so you can help where you’re needed.”
She looked at him and gave a quick nod—and, before he could react properly, she crushed him close for a hug. “Be safe,” she whispered fiercely in his ear before she moved away and swung up in front of Hildon.
Justin, tongue-tied and afraid he was blushing, only lowered his head. He did, however, get an unpleasant glance at Hildon’s smile as the bandit leader galloped away with his head close to Zaara’s.
In the next moment, however, he was glad enough that they were gone. He didn’t have the faintest idea how to get into the saddle of Mira’s horse, much less while she was already there, and in the end, she had to swing down and let him struggle to mount.
She, at least, said nothing about it despite her fiery red hair and forbidding expression, which might have suggested otherwise. Oddly, she seemed to have a way of moving that was disturbingly lazy for someone so well-armed. He had the impression that anyone trying to surprise her in a dark alley would have their ass handed to them, and she wouldn’t even break a sweat.
“Hildon will keep your lady friend safe,” she told him. She looked over her shoulder at him with a wry smile. “I mean he’ll keep her alive, mind you, not keep her looking at you with those gooey eyes.”
“She looks at me with gooey eyes?” He straightened a little.
Mira sighed. “Yes. But Hildon’s a flirt and he’s a damned good fighter. If you’re trying to be impressive on this journey, you’ll need all the luck you can get.”
“Luck?” Justin was outraged. “I’ll have you know I conjured a sword of pure fire on the way here. I—oh. You were trying to get under my skin, weren’t you?”
“A little.” She flashed him a smile. “I’ll tell you a secret, though. The one I want to impress will be in the carts and they’re not pleased to see me riding with you. So, we both have someone to impress, eh?”
He grinned. If someone had told him a day and a half ago that he’d joke and fight alongside the bandits, he would never have believed them, but this felt oddly natural. “Let’s give them a show, then.”
Mira laughed and spurred the horse to a gallop. “Get ready, adventurer. We have monsters to kill.”
“What’s going on?” One of the Diatek scientists looked up in concern as the pod was lowered to the ground.
Jacob looked at the monitor and snickered. “Ahhhh. You’ll get used to seeing that.”
“Yes, but what is it? It looks like…” The scientist frowned at the neural activity readouts. “Attraction.”
“Mm-hmm.” He grinned at him.
“But he’s the only person in there.” The man still looked confused.
“I tell you what.” The young engineer clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll start you on a strict regimen ofvideo games. We’ll get you through a few, then you can come back to me and tell me if you still don’t understand.”
“Video games? But—”
“Trust me.” He smiled. It had been a while since he had explained this and he found himself both wryly amused and struck by how little many people understood of this world. “Games give you a chance to be who you want to be. Humans don’t turn into unfeeling robots simply because a person is made of pixels and algorithms. They still care. They still throw themselves into danger and try to help.” He gestured to the monitor. “That’s part of why Justin’s getting better. Because the game helps him to be human.”
The creatures didn’t attack immediately. The caravan plodded into the fog beyond the gates and for a long time, nothing stirred. The mist swirled around the carts as Justin and Mira rode up and down the line. They could not see the entire caravan at once, but the vapor was not so thick that they couldn’t see the road beneath the horses’ hooves. Strangely, the clopping seemed to echo somewhat.
No one sang to pass the time. The bowmen kept arrows nocked and their heads turned constantly.
Still, enough time passed without incident to wonder if they had all been mistaken and if the magical creatures had ever existed at all.
The attack, when it came, was sudden and devastating. Justin and Mira were near the head of the line when the leader of the army—the worm that had flown over the blacksmith’s cart and wounded him so grievously—exploded out of the earth in front of the caravan.
Mira’s horse had been trained to go through battles but it was not ready for this. It whinnied and reared as the two riders leaned forward with all their strength. He clung to the horse’s neck with one arm and Mira’s waist with the other, and she leaned close to croon in the horse’s ear. When the animal settled onto all fours, the bandit didn’t hesitate and spurred it to a gallop as she tossed a glance at him.
He gave her a nod and held his right hand out. The power warmed it and brought a sudden rush of satisfaction. The witch and her minions had thought to attack them, but the humans wouldn’t back down without a fight. This fucking-worm-creature—his new name for the army leader—would get more than it bargained for.
His gaze focused on its head as it flailed and tossed. When it swung to focus on them, he locked eyes with it.
“As soon as I shoot, turn the horse,” he told Mira, and he launched one of the biggest fireballs he had ever created.
The creature had opened its mouth, whether to spit poison or snap at them, he didn’t know.
Either way, it ate a fireball.
Its head exploded into flames and it withdrew into the ground with startling speed. The earth closed over it again. Rubble was strewn across the road but otherwise, it might never have been there.
Mira wheeled the horse and they surveyed the line. As the fucking-worm-creature attacked, other monsters had rushed out of the mist. The bandit archers called orders to one another as they knelt on the packs of supplies and fired. They reached over their heads with precision, nocked their arrows, dipped them in fire, and sent them with deadly accuracy. Tar creatures went up in flames with shrieks and ran wild, spreading the blaze to their compatriots.
Farther down the line, the rumble and roar of the road exploding once more caught his attention. The screams of horses
and humans came through eerily, but his heart unclenched when he saw the glow of fireballs arcing through the fog. Zaara was still alive and fighting.
“Perimeter sweep!” he called to Mira.
She nodded and urged her horse to a canter. Under the range of the archers, she and Justin targeted the stragglers. It wasn’t long before they developed a system. He scanned ahead and behind and his fireballs eliminated the enemy that had edged close to the carts. Mira, meanwhile, drew a blade that glowed a dull red and focused on the beasts within arms’ range.
It took an odd kind of courage to trust her help, but once he accepted that he could rely on her to watch his back, it released him to fight with a focus he had never had before. He felt a deep satisfaction whenever he was able to aim a fireball with particular skill and more than once, he felled an animal that had decided to attack her. She slashed and hacked with a skill that wasn’t so much elegant as brutally efficient.
The caravan, aided by Hildon’s bellows, kept moving throughout. The donkeys and horses had had their ears plugged and their eyes bound with cloth, and it was barely enough to keep them moving. Their flanks were shivering and coated with sweat.
The mist cleared so gradually that he didn’t realize it until someone yelled from the front of the caravan. Something in the cart-driver’s tone was enough to make both Mira and Hildon race to the front of the line.
Justin gaped. The witch stood in their path but she was truly monstrous. She was so tall that her head was lost in the clouds. Tentacles writhed and lashed forward, only to vanish in the space of a blink.
“Where did she go?” Justin yelled to Mira over the sound of the wind.
“Where did who go?” she called back.
“The witch—didn’t you see her? The monster as tall as Sephith’s tower.”
She gave him a curious look and a chill ran down his spine. Whatever it meant that he was the only one who could see it, he didn’t like it.
Too Young to Die Page 40
