by James Hunter
“It’s a non-issue, Finn. Joining the Wolfmen also has one added benefit—it annuls all previous contracts and bonds with other human organizations. The mechanic for mutiny is literally baked into the system. If you join, you get a second chance. A fresh start.”
“I can’t. The Accords are everything to…” Finn hesitated, his eyes not fixed on Sam but rather on Dizzy. Finally, he sighed. “The crest of House Laustsen is a rearing wolf on a field of gold and black… Perhaps it was a sign all along.”
“My family never really did get over losing the war against King Henry. If I’m going to die anyway, might as well be doing what it is my family does best—fomenting insurrection. So, what exactly is the plan here, if I may be so bold to ask? As long as I don't do anything to betray The Accords…”
Finn started to cough but waved Sam on to continue.
“Simple. Not necessarily easy, but simple,” Sam informed his friend, even as the coughing continued. “I need to get to the Annex and bust out a Wolfman Scout who’s being held against his will. Bill and I will do that on our own, while you guide the rest of the crew to the library. We need to get Octavius’ research so we can figure out how to throw a monkey wrench into the new spell he’s been working on.”
“Oh no.” Finn’s face paled further. In a muted hush, he added, “Sam, you may already be too late. I was working with Octavius last night. He was putting the final touches on the project. He’s preparing to cast it today. He might already be starting.”
“No, no, no!” Sam’s chest tightened. Constricted. He broke into a nervous pace, his boots slapping the ground with wet *splooshes*. They were so close! This couldn’t be happening! “Do you know where Octavius is? We need to get to him, Finn. We need to do it fast.”
“What do you mean, Sam? Octavius is here. He’s launching the spell from the library!” Sam stopped cold.
“What do you mean he’s ‘here’?” Dizzy stole the words before Sam could get them out. “I thought he had to go somewhere to perform the spell. Like line of sight to the Wolfman Outpost or something?”
“Not quite.” Finn shook his head, the coughing subsiding. “Turns out that Octavius wasn’t just working on a new spell, he was working to build a weapon. I’ve been helping him with it for the past week. It’s called a Long-range Amplification Weapon or LAW. It’s a portable siege tower of sorts, which utilizes spatial magic to link with a Mage, allowing them to cast devastating spells from almost anywhere in Eternium. When Mages go to war, they’re almost always targeted first by the enemy. With the LAW, they could lay down deadly spell cover without ever leaving the safety of the College walls. Even worse, the device dramatically amplifies any given spell almost a hundred-fold.”
“So where is this siege tower? Maybe we can get there and bust it before Octavius has a chance to act.”
Finn blew out his cheeks. “It’s far too late for that, I’m afraid. Assuming we leave now, it’ll take us at least a half a day to get to the site, and by then I doubt there will be a Wolfman Outpost to partner with. But the LAW is twinned to the caster. Octavius calls it Sympathetic Magic. He’s performing a small version of the spell here, safe and sound with a smaller-scale replica of the siege tower. The LAW resonates, casting the same spell, only bigger. Amplified.”
“But wait! That means if we can stop Octavius here, the whole spellform will implode on itself,” Bill boomed, causing Finn to jump half a foot into the air. “Kill the root, destroy the tree.”
“Err, um, yes,” Finn offered tentatively. “That’s right. Also, did that floating book just talk?”
“Name’s Bill,” the book told him courteously. “Yeah. I talk. It’s a whole thing, Mageling. We can discuss it later. For now, we need to stop that spell.”
“He’s right.” Dizzy seemed calm, level-headed, and not at all panicked. She was the team leader for a reason. “What’s the play here, Sam? This is your operation. You just give the word.”
Originally, they were supposed to split at this point—Sam and Bill going after the Wolfman Scout, while the others beelined toward the library with Finn. Considering the urgency of the situation, it made sense for them to abandon the Wolfman altogether. Saving Velkan was an optional quest, and there would be no penalty for failure. Yet… if Sam didn’t go after him now, he would never have another chance. Moreover, now that he knew more about the Wolfmen, the idea of abandoning Velkan to the tender mercies of the College didn’t sit right with him.
He didn’t know Velkan, not really, but he knew no one deserved to be locked in a cage like that. Tortured. Experimented on. Wheeled out for the amusement and benefit of others. Plus, this was a game, and the reward for completing a quest like that for a woman like The O’Baba? That had to be worth something seriously cool. The gamer in him just couldn’t pass up the opportunity, even if it did increase the risk of the mission. Besides, getting into the Annex would only take a few minutes at most, and if they did have to square off against Octavius… having an angry Wolfman on their team would be a big help.
Sam nodded; mind made up. Yep. Definitely worth the risk, and it was the right thing to do. “No change. Bill and I will go after Velkan on our own. Everyone else is with Finn. Get to the library, don’t get caught, and don’t do anything until I get there. Not unless there’s no other choice. Just try to hold off Octavius long enough for me to get back. Time to go earn our place with the real wolfpack.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Sam could certainly understand the book’s sentiment. Getting from the sewers and into the College proper had been… surprisingly easy.
After agreeing to the plan, Dizzy and the others had donned the counterfeit guard outfits that Sphinx had procured through her connections with the Upright Men. Dizzy played the role of Karren the Blade—going so far as to strap a gleaming sword to her hip—while Kai took on the role of Geffery the Red. Kai didn’t really look much like Geffery, but in Sam’s experience, the Mages didn’t pay much attention to anyone they considered to be ‘the help’. Arrow and Sphinx both stowed their gear, shrugging into lumpy, brown Novice robes equipped with deep cowls to help conceal their faces.
Sam had done likewise, reluctantly stripping out of his gear to blend in, then slipping a specialty item on over his face. It would have cost a pretty penny if Sam had been anyone other than Sam. Bill had been right all along; with Coreless Spell Infusion under his belt, he really did have a license to print money. He’s simply churned out three Ice Orb and a pair of Weak Paralysis spells, less than half an hour of work for all the Novice-ranked single-use items, and then he walked away with the specialty item from the deep Vaults of the Upright Men—an odd, clear mask that depicted the historic figure ‘the Gray Fawkes’, the infamous Thieves’ Guild Leader.
It was a rare item that once applied blended seamlessly with the wearer’s face, though it gave the wearer—whether man or woman—a telltale set of rosy cheeks, a rakish mustache and a razor-thin soul patch, which Sam hadn’t been even remotely prepared for in any way. Honestly, Sam thought the overall effect gave him a very punchable face—which was rather unfortunate—but the mask had properties that made it more than worthwhile. Once on, the mask gave him a random name and replaced any negative status with a neutral status for up to one hour; the effect could be reused but only after a twelve-hour cooldown.
Mask of the Plucky Rebel. Leading an insurgency? Grand plans to take on a tyrant? Just want to crash into your friend Aaron without getting found out? Well, never fear, the Mask of the Plucky Rebel has you covered—quite literally! With this bad boy, you can be someone else, at least for a little while. But great power comes at a great price; I hope you like facial hair and an air of smirking smugness because you’ll have that in spades.
By activating the effect, the wearer receives a randomly generated username, and any negative status tags are replaced with neutral status tags fo
r the duration of the effect. Moreover, any bounties you may receive while wearing the mask with the effect activated will disappear when the mask’s effect lapses. +2 Charisma while worn, +1 Wisdom, +1 Luck, Activate Effect ‘Social Chameleon’ can be activated once every twelve hours with a duration of one hour. Side effect: Regardless of gender, while wearing the mask, you assume the distinguished facial hair of the Gray Fawkes himself.
Facial hair aside, the mask was absolutely perfect. Sam strutted through the halls without attracting even a curious glance from any of the other Mages scurrying about the hallways. Once Sam got to the Annex proper, he managed to navigate the backways with Bill’s help. They hadn’t seen another living soul.
Until now, that was. They’d made it to the dungeoneering classroom, only to find that the instructor was in. Sir Tomas—the adventurer-turned-anthropologist who’d seen his best years a century ago—was snoozing at his desk, heels kicked up, a cloth cap pulled down over his face as he snored softly. The tips of his white mustache fluttered with each exhale. Resting on the desk beside him was his massive mace, a weapon which seemed far too large for the frail fellow.
In Eternium, Sam knew appearances could be deeply deceptive, and he also knew he didn’t want to be on the business end of the mace. After going toe-to-toe with Geffery and coming out on top, Sam fully expected that he could take the instructor in a brawl, but he couldn’t do so without alerting every Mage in the College that something was amiss.
Even in a place as strange as the College, someone was bound to notice an old adventurer hollering at the top of his lungs while chasing a ‘Novice’ with an enormous mace. But they’d already come this far, and Sam wasn’t about to turn back—not when the prize was so close at hand.
Feeling a fresh surge of jittery excitement, Sam padded forward, inching his way along the edges of the room, then slipping down the stairs slowly, slowly, testing each step with the tip of his boot. Even a single squeaking floorboard could be his undoing. Sam thought his heart might well explode through his chest like an alien hatchling as he crept past the desk, mere feet away from the dozing professor… but the man was out like a light. He didn’t so much as shift in his chair.
After what felt like an eternity—even though it was actually only a matter of seconds—Sam was in front of the heavy door that stood guard over the storage room. He licked his lips, stole one look over his shoulder, then slipped in as silently as a ghost, letting the door swinging shut behind him with a whisper. Sam found himself in a storage room filled with shelves and shelves of classroom supplies, as well as adventuring equipment—everything from ropes and pickaxes to torches and dull-edged practice swords.
The real prize was tucked away in the far corner of the room—a massive cage built onto a wooden platform. Huddled in the cage was a lump of fur and lean muscle that reeked like week-old death. Sam’s breath caught at the smell, and he thought for a second that he was too late… that Velkan of the Redmane Tribe had given up the ghost. But then the lump of fur stirred, and the creature sprung to its feet, letting out a guttural roar that shook a metal-faced shield from the wall. It clattered on the ground like a struck gong. All Sam could do was wince.
“Come to torture me some more?” Velkan snarled, throwing himself against the cage, rattling the bars as he thrust his claw-tipped hands through the gaps. Straining for freedom… or maybe just to murder someone. “Torture me all you want. I’ll never betray my tribe or my people. Do your worst, human.”
Sam curved his back and dropped his eyes. “I’m not here hurt you, Velkan. I’m here make freedom.”
The Wolfmen crouched down on his haunches, eyes narrowed to thin slits as he weighed and measured Sam. His ears flicked in uncertainty. “This is an interesting ploy, at the very least. Changing it up? Why should I believe you, human scum?”
“I have none of time for this,” Sam snarled in his broken Wolfman language, raising his gaze and baring his teeth, asserting his dominance over the Scout. “The O’Baba sent me. She calls you kin. I’m let you out, fulfill my side of deal. You do what you want, but you want make it out of the Mage training house alive? You come with me. Understand?”
Shock flickered through Velkan’s golden eyes. Just like that, Sam had managed to do what Sir Tomas had failed to accomplish for weeks—get Velkan’s cooperation.
“Understood,” the beast grumbled as Sam worked to get the cage open.
Sam half expected the Wolfman to lunge at him as soon as the heavy steel door swung free, but no. Which is when Sam realized the furry Scout was little more than skin and bones at this point. The Wolfman was emaciated beyond belief, as though he hadn’t had anything to eat in days or—more likely—weeks.
His muzzle was gaunt, almost skeletal, and though he was still fiery enough in spirit, there wasn’t much fight left in his body. He’d been badly mistreated, and it showed. Sam pulled out a spare set of frumpy, brown Novice robes from his spatial container and tossed them at the Wolfman Scout. They wouldn’t do anything to properly disguise him, but if Velkan put the hood up and kept his head down, maybe he could pass muster if no one looked too closely. Or from a short distance… or a long distance.
With the robes in place, the Wolfman also took a minute to snag a leather belt along with a short sword that he strapped to his side. Sam just hoped the blade wouldn’t be necessary. Done, Sam, Bill, and Velkan snuck from the storeroom.
Naturally, Sir Tomas was waiting for them. The old-timey adventurer was on his feet, his heavy mace leaning almost casually against one shoulder, his other hand resting against a cocked-out hip.
“Well, what is this here?” his mustache was bobbing as he spoke. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say someone was attempting a jailbreak, hmm? Now, explain yourself, cur, or prepare to eat steel. Have you had your daily allotment of iron?”
Truthfully, Sir Tomas sounded positively excited about the notion of a brawl, which was probably a bad sign. What were the chances that the old guy was quite a bit tougher than he looked? Sam licked his lips, preparing to summon his Orbital Tomes and unleash magical hell on the old codger.
“How dare you! Who are you to question us? You withered, replaceable adjunct professor! Do you know who I am? Hmm? Why, I, Sir William the Bravi,” Bill continued, not giving the sputtering professor a chance to answer, “Master of Library Magics, Dean of Discipline, and Tenured Professor of Bibliomancy should incinerate you on the spot for your insolence!”
“Bu-but-but,” Sir Tomas stuttered, withering under Bill’s relentless onslaught. “Well, I thought…”
“Your place is not to think. Which of us wields an oversized club, and which of us is a magical talking book? Leave the thinking to me, adventurer!” Bill thundered, the glow around him intensifying.
“Of course, m’lord. Of course. A thousand apologies.” Sir Tomas doffed his cap and bowed nearly double at the waist. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Nothing at all. Now, if you want to keep your little job here, move out of my way and keep this encounter to yourself.” Bill hovered closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, as though letting the professor in on something of the utmost secrecy, “I need this specimen for a very confidential spell, the first step in wiping the bloody Wolfme
n off the face of the map, and your captive here is going to help us. Look, he is obviously already in my control.”
Bill paused, ruffling his pages as though thinking. “You know, if everything goes well, I might even put in a good word for you. After all, you are the one who captured this creature…”
Sir Tomas seemed to brighten noticeably at that. “Oy, thank you, Sir William. Thank you a thousand times over. You can expect the utmost discretion from me. Best of luck with your spell. About time someone fired a shot across the bow at those mangy dogs!”
“Just so.” Bill bobbed in the air. Before Sir Tomas could probe into their story any deeper, Sam and Bill slipped from the room and into the Annex proper with Velkan trailing a few paces behind them.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Compared to busting the Wolfman Scout out of the clink, the trip from the Annex to the back entrance of the library was a cakewalk. The little-known corridor that no one used was completely empty. There was one moment of heart-wrenching tension where Sam heard the heavy footfalls of some unseen Mage, but with a little quick insight from Bill, they managed to find an even lesser-used passageway that got them to their destination, free and clear. Yes, Sam, Bill, and Velkan had to endure waves of vertigo, abrupt gravitation eddies that felt like they might crush Sam’s insides, and moments where time seemed to slow to a snail’s pace, but it was totally worth it.