by Hugo Huesca
“Yeah.” Ryan nodded. “Actually, I don’t get it.”
“Do the maintenance beetles rebuild the Museum from scratch after every change? I don’t think so.” Ed scratched his chin. “It is as if—”
At that moment, the Inquisitor next to Vaines groaned and stirred, and Ed and Ryan’s attention shifted to the man. Despite the terrible wound in his belly, the gaze that glared at the Dungeon Lord was sharp and fierce.
“Wraith,” Gallio said coarsely, “I should kill you right now.”
Gallio realized he had been drugged the second he awoke. It was probably a good thing; he could feel the pain of the stab wound lurking at the edge of his consciousness, ready to return and overwhelm him. It was like a wolf lurking through a forest, waiting for a chance to attack.
Edward Wright was only a few feet away, unarmed and alone except for four chattering drones. Someone had taken Gallio’s weapons and armor, but he didn’t need steel to kill the scions of the Dark. He only needed his faith, and his will.
At the moment, though, he felt quite low on both.
“Good luck with that,” Edward told him, answering Gallio’s empty threat, though there was mockery behind his words. The Dungeon Lord looked as weary as Gallio felt. “Can you stand?”
Gallio sighed and took stock of his condition. The bandaging around his torso was tight, and he didn’t feel as dizzy from blood loss as before. Still, his arms and legs seemed to be made of lead, and breathing was as a difficult as clearing a dungeon by himself. “I’d rather not,” he said. He groaned and rested his head against the wall.
Both men said nothing for a while. Gallio noticed Vaines lying next to him, still unconscious, and also spotted the man half-hiding behind Ed. According to his sources, that one was Argent Planeshifter. Everyone in the room other than Gallio himself had a “Kill on sight” warrant signed by the King.
Once again, Gallio’s life had been saved by his country’s greatest foes.
Memories flooded him. The attack. Jayden and Dalph’s betrayal. And then, everything else.
“Is it true?” he asked Wright. “Sephar was alive all this time? He was the one that had Ioan release the mindbrood inside Burrova.” Did you know? Gallio thought, recalling the traitorous Ranger. Did you know, or you were just another toy in a madman’s games?
“I believe,” Edward said, visibly choosing his words with care, “that there is a mindbrood that believes he is Dungeon Lord Sephar. This creature possesses the talents and powers of a high-level Dungeon Lord, and some abilities even beyond that. Like you, I believe this Sephar was the one that gave Ioan the mindbrood’s egg. After that, it seems he found a normal mindbrood to be too noticeable, so he altered the larva. I’ve fought people like the Akathunians before. They are a pain to kill. But fire does the job just fine.”
It was too much for Gallio to take in all at once. The danger of a single mindbrood warranted entire cities to burn to the ground. And now there was a mind like Sephar’s controlling them? Every other threat to Heiliges paled in comparison.
And then he caught on to the implications of Wright’s words, and the betrayal of Gallio’s men.
The Inquisition has been compromised, Gallio thought, suddenly so cold he likely could’ve been mistaken by one of the undead. How far does the infection run? Are the Examiners corrupted? The King?
“Yeah,” Wright told him, as if the Dungeon Lord could read his mind. “Things are not looking so bright.” He brushed aside a stray lock of hair. “That’s why I’m going to need your help. We can’t allow Sephar to acquire the Factory. You saw what seven mindbroods can do. Imagine a mass-produced army.”
Gallio frowned. “Because working together has served us so well in the past,” he said. “Even if we somehow take the Factory first, you’ll build an army as well. One that will kill Heiligians.”
“Probably,” Wright said. “Unless you convince the Militant Church to leave my damn country alone.” Gallio scoffed at that, and even Wright gave a wry smile. “I won’t try to change your mind about me or my intentions, since we both know how that has worked out in the past. However, it seems you’re facing two options, Gallio, and both lead to bad endings. You’re going to have to choose who is worse. Me or Sephar.”
There was probably something sarcastic Gallio could’ve said to such an ominous comment. He held his tongue, though. The Inquisitor recalled the confrontation in the Armory, how the two Dungeon Lords had faced each other. They had practically declared war against the other.
If Gallio had been born in Wright’s shoes, perhaps he would’ve made very similar choices as the Dungeon Lord. Although Wright’s mistakes had led to war, Gallio had to admit Wright’s behavior was human.
Sephar, however… Agony and torture could warp a person’s mind, and Sephar had undergone much of each during his last moments, according to the tale of the Bane. And whatever monster had devoured that delirious, dying brain had forever preserved rage and madness that should have been mercifully washed away by the gentle repose of death.
This new Sephar was a broken mind, mended together by the abominations from the Wetlands, with something unknowable lurking underneath the fractures.
“I am not helping you get the Factory,” Gallio said. Somehow, he found the strength to stand, although his legs wobbled and his head spun. “I am fighting off a worse threat, and the best way to do that is to work with you. For the moment.”
Wright grinned, then extended a hand and helped the Inquisitor steady himself. “Hey, Ryan, how does that quote go…? ‘The enemy of my enemy is my enemy’s enemy. Nothing more, nothing less.’”
The Portal opened to one of the rooms they had cleared before. Ed went first, because no one else was in any condition to take a hit.
“Clear,” he called behind him. Ryan and Gallio entered, followed by his drones carrying Vaines’ unconscious body on the shoddy wheeled contraption the drones had transmuted. Seeing her moved in that state would’ve probably given any medical professional a heart attack, but the alternative was to leave her to become lampagos lunch.
Unlike Gallio, the Dungeon Lady hadn’t recovered consciousness yet, and there were strange crystalline growths on her face and arms; they were glimmering grains of sand at first, but had grown to the size of a small pimple. When Ed had questioned the rescue drones, they had mimicked a twig being snapped in two. Ominous, and Ed dared not think of the implications.
From that familiar room they delved through a new set of corridors. The plan, insofar as it could be called a plan, was to use the spots Vaines had ordered Ryan to remember as safe Portal locations, and hope to all the gods that during the Factory’s scramble one of them would now lead to Tillman’s office. If along the way they ran into a trap, the plan called for “improvisation” and “we’ll probably die, anyway.”
Ed ranked it as the shoddiest plan he’d ever had in his career as a Dungeon Lord, but the alternative was to ask Sephar to play ball and give them a ride.
They did not run into any traps as they explored the Factory. Ed had had a hunch they wouldn’t. The Museum was constantly nagging at the back of his mind.
What they did run into was what remained of many previous enemies or former allies. Some of the minions Vaines had lost during the shift in the Armory had made a last stand against someone in a tight set of stairs, and the remains and the stench had made Ryan empty his stomach—Ed and Gallio had almost joined him.
In some areas, the destruction left around was clearly the work of Sephar’s Brood. They would then go through a Portal to a different area.
Ed found the lampagos that had given Redwood and him so much trouble only a few hours ago. That seemed like a million years in the past. He could not tell what had killed the monsters, but his guess was undead. A bad way to go. Ed got a lump in his throat at the sight. Perhaps he was becoming superstitious, thinking of the senseless fate of the two great hunters as some kind of augury. More likely, it was because now he would never get the chance to capture them and
add them to his dungeons.
The trudge through the Factory was long, tiring, and miserable. The halls were silent, the Forges dirty with ash. Not even the maintenance beetles were around, and the distant machinery did not tick behind the walls anymore. Every minute the pressure in Ed’s ears grew. Whenever they came by a window, he could see the red sky, like a sea along which sailed the colossal undead beast that carried the Factory on its back.
Ed realized they were gaining altitude. One way or the other, the Endeavor was nearing its end.
Kes’ message came without warning. Are you alive? the message said. We ran into a spot of trouble here. Roughed up but fine. Diviners trying to lock on you. Screens are down. Fiends are rioting. What is going on?
I’m going to need more than a single rune for this one, Ed realized, rummaging through his pockets. He got his friends up to date, although he had his doubts they’d believe him. We’ll need extraction, he finished, glancing surreptitiously at Vaines and Ryan.
He didn’t mention what he intended to do when he caught up with Sephar, because he did not know himself.
A scream broke the silence, distant but clear like a shrill musical note.
Gallio and Ed exchanged glances. “It could be a ploy,” said the Inquisitor. “A way for Sephar to lure us in.”
“Agreed,” Ed said. “And yet…”
That was all the discussion needed. They went to check out the scream. Ryan, of course, protested vehemently, and was ignored.
Following the source of the noise through a series of empty corridors, they arrived in the scattered remains of a greenhouse. Colorful, mutated plants lay broken and scattered, and the walls were marred with chlorophyll blotches. One of the dead plant-creatures had been cut open and the half-digested remains of one of Lord Steros’ minions had spilled out. Ed winced at the sight, but there was nothing to be done. He pressed forward.
They found what remained of Ed’s original team backed against a corner: Xorander, Steros, and Spymaster Macer. They were covered in blood, sweat, and dirt. All but Steros had lost their weapons at some point, and judging by the fact that Xorander wasn’t unleashing arcane devastation at the moment, she was either out or low on spells.
“Stop this madness at once!” Xorander told the giant that towered menacingly above her. She hadn’t yet noticed the arrival of Ed and the others. “Your former master is dead, you’re under my control now!”
Ed and Lord Steros exchanged glances. “Uh, Cassara…” Steros said under his breath.
“Lord Wright was too weak to survive the dangers of the Standard Factory,” Xorander was telling Rolim’s huge, angry bulk. “He’s gone. Pact with me or be destroyed!”
Ed coughed politely at that point. Before things got even more awkward.
Everyone looked at him.
“Oh, thank the Dark,” whispered Macer, then he let out a long sigh.
“Ah, dunghill,” Xorander said, eyes wide. “Lord Wright. You survived…”
At a gesture from Ed, Rolim stood down. “Obviously,” the Dungeon Lord told Xorander. “No thanks to you.”
“Friends of yours?” Gallio asked, clearly at odds with the situation. The Inquisitor probably would’ve preferred if they had run into one of the mindbroods. A fight to the death was easier to wade through than the Lordship’s tangled loyalties.
“In a manner of speaking,” Ed said.
The Dungeon Lady paled, then she had the gall to blush in anger. “Lady Vaines took you prisoner! There was nothing we could do, and we risked enough by allowing your minions to leave our side.” She narrowed her eyes. “How did you manage to escape?” She faced Gallio. “And who the hell are you? You’re dressed like an…” Her Evil Eye activated as she took a look at Gallio’s character sheet. “By Murmur!” She jumped back, her hand reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there, and her mouth already beginning to form the start of a spell.
Before Gallio could dash forward to stop her, Ed stepped between them. Steros made a gesture as if he planned to enter the conflict, but Rolim, who was still behind the two Dungeon Lords, placed a “gentle” hand on the shoulder of each. They stiffened and stood down.
“Everyone stay calm,” Ed said, and somehow managed to add a note of threat to that phrase. It wasn’t hard with Rolim backing him up. “Inquisitor Gallio is with me. Believe it or not, we have bigger problems than Xorander trying to hijack my undead monstrosity—no offense, Rolim.” Ed decided to try for a direct approach. “Sephar was reborn as a mindbrood and wants the Factory. We are trying to outrace him.”
Xorander laughed; Macer and Steros looked skeptical. “This is not the time for jokes, Lord Wright,” Steros said sternly. “If we wish to salvage something out of our alliance, I suggest you treat us seriously.”
Ed realized it was as if he had just told two guys from Earth that Genghis Khan was alive inside the Ebola virus.
“This is going to be a pain to explain,” he told Gallio.
“Then don’t,” Gallio said. “I know these two. Minor Dungeon Lords. The Inquisition doesn’t rank them as priority targets. We do not need them.”
“I’m afraid we’re going to need all the help we can get,” Ed said, glancing at the bandages visible under Gallio’s mail. There was blood soaking through them already.
As if on cue, Ed’s drones arrived with Vaines in tow, followed by a nervous-looking Ryan. Although Vaines was covered up to her neck by a blanket, and the outgrowths on her face were big enough now to obscure her features, it was pretty obvious who she was.
“Lady Vaines?” Steros asked. “An illusion, obviously. Wright, you’re toying with us.”
Someone gave a wet cough. Vaines opened her eyes, weakly, and Ed could see how the Dungeon Lady visibly forced herself back to consciousness. Grimacing in pain, she slowly managed to prop her upper body up to a half-sitting position. “Does this look like a game to you?” she asked.
“Murmur have mercy,” Xorander said. Half of Vaines face was gone, replaced by the crystal outgrowth which had acquired an orange coloration growing in intensity. “She’s becoming a Dungeon Jewel.”
With Vaines back, the strangest team of all the Endeavors held its first and last emergency council. They spread in a semicircle around Vaines’ cot. If someone had seen them from afar, they would’ve made a sorry sight. Although the Dungeon Lady was the worst of them, no one was unhurt. Put together, they had perhaps three spells left. They were short on weapons, potions, and morale.
Somehow, it would have to be enough.
“Let’s suppose we believe you,” Steros said after Vaines was done corroborating Ed’s story. “If Sephar—or a mindbrood claiming to be him—is here, then we need to warn Lotia. Marquis Adolvar has to reunite the Lordship, organize a hunting party.”
“If Sephar chose to reveal himself now,” Vaines said, “it means he no longer fears discovery. Either the Factory will make him too powerful to be stopped, or he has already undermined the Lotian nobility the same way we suspect he has the Inquisition.”
“Yes, the Inquisition. His presence is something we haven’t forgotten about,” Steros said fiercely, pointing a finger at Gallio. “House Steros would love to make you answer for all the blood you’ve spilled, Inquisitor.”
“Any time, Dungeon Lord,” Gallio said calmly.
For a moment it looked as if the two of them would draw steel, but then Vaines interrupted. “Lord Steros, my spine may be broken, but I promise you that if you keep wasting my time, I’ll crawl your way and kill you with my teeth.”
Steros’ lips trembled. He was probably wondering if it was an empty threat. He shrugged angrily and refused to look at Gallio.
In the silence, there came the very faint sound of metal clashing against metal in a pattern they were all very familiar with.
Lady Xorander cursed under her breath, then said, “We should leave soon. How do you plan to take the Factory, anyway? There’s eight of us, but three are dead weight and the rest can barely move. If Sephar is as strong as y
ou claim, going forward would be suicide. Lord Wright, you can’t think we can win here. Be wise and know your limits. Let’s retreat today, and then we can warn Lotia and the Regents. With their force united, we can take back the Factory, and then chase Sephar back to whatever hole he’s hiding.”
“We are not asking you to help out of the good of your hearts,” Ed explained, stepping forward. “Opposing Sephar is the smart call. If we can’t take the Factory, we must destroy it. Otherwise everyone, including House Steros and House Xorander, is screwed. No more fun wars with Heiliges, no more evil scheming, no nothing. Game over.”
“If you want to leave, I won’t stop you,” Ed went on. The metallic footsteps were closer now. Ryan eyed the nearest entrance and his lips trembled a bit. “However, this is our best shot at slowing down that man. If we fail today, he gets access to the mutagens, the magical items, the monsters. Everything. I doubt even the Regents could stop him then.” Since the two Dungeon Lords gave him a disbelieving look, he continued, “Imagine if he altered the mindbrood larva to spread as a virus. The size of a grain of sand, just flying in the wind forever, until someone breathed it in. Imagine if, at the same time, he found a way to make thousands of eggs instead of a dozen or so.”
“Oh,” Steros said, going pale. He gripped his sword, as if looking for some comfort there. “I see why the Inquisitor is here. You… have my apologies,” he told Gallio. Then, to Ed and Vaines, “What can I do to help?”
Ed grinned. With Steros won over, Xorander begrudgingly fell in line. They were back in the fight. “I have a plan. Call it a hunch. You’ll have to trust me on this one.” He pointed at the entrance. The approaching sound of footsteps were almost upon them. “Our little council is missing just one participant. And… here it comes.”