by Aaron Oster
“I am the leader, after all. I know the names of every single person who I’ve sentenced to die, though your case was a rare one, Sarah, as you were asked to be brought back alive.”
“How is it that you’re the one in charge?” Sarah asked, trying to keep her tone soft.
Swan looked as though she wasn’t going to answer but eventually seemed to decide to indulge them.
“The leader of the guild is chosen by three very specific rules. One: they must have been a part of the guild for at least twenty years. Two: they must be voted in by at least an eighty percent majority, and finally, they must be below rank 9. This is to ensure that no leader will rule for too long, and if too many become unhappy with their leadership, can be easily removed.”
“Wait, so what you’re saying is that you’ll be dead soon anyway?” Morgan asked.
“For lack of a better term, yes. I likely won’t survive the night. I’ve been feeling my end coming for quite some time,” she said, turning her eyes up to the ceiling.
“So we wasted all this time and effort, for nothing,” Morgan said, allowing his blade to disappear and reaching for Katherine’s pendant.
“I daresay you have,” Swan replied weakly.
Just then Gold strode into the room. He was chipper as always and his boots left bloody footprints on the ground below.
“She dead yet?” he asked, walking over and examining the decrepit old woman.
“You!” Swan exclaimed, her face going red. “What are you doing here?”
She attempted to rise from her bed and reached out with claw-like fingers for Gold’s throat.
“Keeping a promise,” Gold replied.
Sarah shivered at the tone of his voice. It was nothing like the tone he’d been using until now. It was cold.
“I might be dying, but you won’t escape from here alive!” Swan hissed, reaching for something at her bedside.
There was a loud, wet crunch and Swan’s hand went limp.
“Why did you do that?” Sarah demanded, looking down in horror at the stone spike protruding from her chest.
Blood was already beginning to soak the front of her shirt, and her eyes had clouded over with death.
“I did what was necessary,” Gold replied, rising from the bed. “Now call our ride. We’re out of time.”
Morgan nodded, pressing the button on the side of the pendant, and a second later a portal opened. Sarah was the first one through, her back rigid as she held back tears of anger and frustration. Morgan was next, stepping through the swirling portal and leaving Gold alone with the cooling corpse of the Guild’s former leader. He looked her over one last time, then he turned and walked through the portal.
***
Arnold grunted as a few more ribs cracked under the massive force of an attack. He quickly spun, lashing out with his crimson blade. He felt it nick something but failed to feel the satisfying blow he’d been hoping for.
He cried out as something sharp slashed across his side, opening a fine line from his shoulder to his lower back. He staggered, dropping to one knee and coughing up huge globs of blood.
This wasn’t going at all how he’d hoped. Though, in hindsight, he guessed he shouldn’t be surprised.
He forced himself back to his feet, vision going a bit fuzzy around the edges, and staggering slightly as his head swam.
He heard a light swish of movement, and threw himself to the side, feeling something sharp tear through his right earlobe. He grimaced as he rolled back to his feet, feeling at the cut and realizing that had he stayed still, his head would no longer be attached to his body.
His eyes flicked around to the numerous assassins, every single one of them still and unmoving.
He gritted his teeth, then slammed his foot into the ground and used the last of his chi to activate his eruption skill. There was a loud rumbling, then a gout of molten lava spewed from the ground, covering a fifty-foot radius in molten rock.
He finally saw the assassins move then, darting quickly back from the growing pool of glowing stone. He coughed again, blood splattering and hissing against the lava underfoot. He grinned, despite the agony and took a step forward. Suddenly, something slammed into the back of his head and sent him flying.
He felt bones grind and break as he slammed into the ground, hard enough to leave a small crater. He skidded for at least a few hundred yards, the rough gravel tearing up his skin and lodging inside. Something like this normally wouldn’t have been possible, but the damage that had been done so far had severely lowered his resistance to damage.
He came to a halt, groaning and barely conscious. He blinked, as blood streamed into his eyes from a gash in his scalp, and he forced himself to roll onto his back.
Staring up at the starry sky above, Arnold could feel the life flowing out of him. Then a shadow passed over him and he saw a figure clad in black.
So this is it, he thought bitterly.
He tried to say something, but all that came out was a rasping gurgle. His vision swam once more as the blood loss and shock finally sank in, in the absence of adrenaline. Arnold took one last rasping breath. Then he blacked out.
***
Morgan stepped through the portal, followed closely by Sarah and Gold. All signs of his earlier seriousness were gone, now replaced by his usual easygoing look, but Morgan couldn’t forget the look on his face when he’d killed Swan.
He would have killed the woman in a heartbeat, but only out of necessity. Gold had seemed to enjoy it somehow.
He wondered what sort of history the two shared, but decided that it was none of his business. He felt something soft crash into him and a second later, the air was being squeezed from his lungs.
“It’s good to see you made it out alive, husband!” Katherine’s sultry voice sounded near his ear.
“Not your husband,” he managed to croak out.
He felt her warm lips brush against his cheek. Then, mercifully, he was able to breathe again as she let go.
He turned to see Katherine beaming at him.
“Your mission was a success!”
“Yes,” he said, rubbing at his sore ribs.
Shouldn’t his strengthened body be able to handle Katherine’s over-enthusiastic greetings?
He looked around then, noticing that they were in the same clearing they used as a staging ground for their attack on the guild.
“Are we heading back to the palace now?” Morgan asked.
Katherine shook her head.
“It’s too risky when we’re so close to the attack.”
“So will we be staying here until tomorrow night?” Sarah cut in, walking up to them and placing her hands on her hips.
It was clear to Morgan that she had seen Katherine’s greeting and was not at all pleased by it.
Why couldn’t life be simpler? he asked himself with a sigh.
“No,” she answered. “We’ll be heading to meet Herald and finalize our plans for the attack.”
“What about the other people you said would be joining us?” Morgan asked.
“The others are already waiting for us,” she said, holding her hand out to open a portal.
Nothing happened.
Katherine’s brows came together in confusion, and she tried again, without success, to open a portal.
“What’s going on?” Morgan asked, seeing the worried look on her face.
“The portal. It’s refusing to open,” she said, taking a step back and staring at the space in confusion.
A loud crack sounded off to their left, and all three of them turned in that direction.
Morgan’s eyes swiveled back and forth, trying to pick anything out of the surrounding darkness, but not seeing anything out of place.
“Do you see any…” He stopped as his eyes fell on her, eyes widening in shock.
Katherine stared back at him for a long moment, eyes wide, then slowly, her eyes lowered down to the massive diamond spike protruding from her chest.
She looked back
up to him, blood frothing at the corners of her lips as she tried to say something. Then the spike was torn from her back and she staggered forward into him, blood gushing from the gaping wound.
He stared down at her for a long moment, then looked up to the man standing behind her. He was wearing the same casual smile as he always did, but it just didn’t seem to fit. It was wrong.
He heard a loud gasp, and turned to see Sarah staring at him, eyes wide in shock and fear.
“Morgan.”
The voice was faint, but Morgan quickly looked down to Katherine. He could see the light in her eyes dimming, as her blood soaked through his armor.
She smiled up at him, her teeth stained red with her blood, and tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. She reached out a trembling hand and stroked his cheek gently. Then, she leaned up and kissed him. He could taste her blood on his lips, but he didn’t push her away. He would at least let her have that much before she died.
He felt her body tremble one last time, then go still in his arms. He gently lowered her to the ground, feeling his chest constricting in a way it never had before.
It hurt.
He looked up to the man he had once counted on, both as a mentor, and a trusted friend.
Why did it hurt so much?
“Why did you do that?” he asked, in a surprisingly calm voice.
He could hear Sarah crying next to him, and wondered why.
She hadn’t seemed to like Katherine at all, so why was she so upset at her death?
“She was going to ruin my plans. I couldn’t very well have her do that.”
“And what exactly are your plans?”
“My plans are my own, but suffice it to say that none of you will be getting in my way. With Katherine out of the way, and you more than a week’s journey from the battlefield, there’s no way you can stop them in time.”
“You want the Pinnacle Kings to awaken,” Morgan said, the realization hitting him almost immediately.
“Yes! Give the man a prize!”
“But why? None of this makes sense!” They both turned as Sarah spoke up for the first time.
“Why would you do this? For what possible reason?”
Gold grinned then and gave them both an exaggerated bow.
“While I would love to tell you, I’m afraid that would be against the rules.”
They were both struck dumb by his reply, and Gold twiddled his fingers at them before abruptly vanishing, leaving the two of them and Katherine’s now cooling body, alone in the dark.
Epilogue
Six Years ago…
Simon slammed his fist angrily into his desk, cracking the wood and splitting it in half. The man standing by the door jumped nervously as he did so, but he hardly took notice.
How had all his carefully crafted plans gone so horribly wrong? He’d worked on them for months, carefully bribing the correct guards, hiring those street thugs and making sure that the guard rotations would include only those privy to his plans.
He growled to himself, and only then seemed to notice the man still standing in the doorway.
“What?” he asked, making the man jump once again.
“T-The workmen just finished clearing the rubble away, my Lord,” the man said, sweat clearly beading his brow.
“And?!” he thundered.
“They didn’t find anything,” the man replied, earning another glare from Simon.
He stared the man down for a few more seconds, relishing his fear, despite the foul mood he was in.
“Very well. You may go,” he said, waving a dismissive hand.
The man scurried away, without so much as a backward glance, slamming the door shut behind him.
Simon rose from his ruined desk and began pacing his office, mind whirling with unanswered questions.
Hint was supposed to die in that attack, but seeing as every other aspect of his carefully crafted plan had failed, that was no surprise.
Sarah was supposed to be kidnapped, then ransomed back to him. She was supposed to be terrified and never want to leave the manor again, thereby giving up what little freedom he’d promised her willingly. She would then obey his wishes without question, and all he would have to do to keep her in line was remind her of that horrible day when she didn’t listen to him.
Hint was a bad influence on her and he’d suspected that Sarah had been acting out, due to his interference. So he had arranged it that Hint would meet with an untimely death, serving the dual purpose of ridding him of a bothersome pest, and further cementing into Sarah’s mind the dangers of the outside world.
Simon stopped his pacing and watched through the windows of his office as his daughter escorted a small boy out of the manor grounds. He grimaced as she leaned in and hugged him, watching the joyous smile on her face as the boy headed towards the city.
That boy! He had been the one to ruin everything.
Simon slammed his fist into a very expensive mahogany bookcase, shattering it and sending tomes bouncing to the floor.
“Whoever that boy is, he’s going to pay!” he vowed.
***
Arnold awoke with a loud gasp and sat bolt upright. He flailed about for a few seconds, as his mind tried to catch up with his body.
“Do calm down. You’re not in any immediate danger,” a very familiar sounding voice said from his left.
Arnold took in a few deep breaths, then turned to face the man who had most likely saved his life. It hadn’t escaped his notice that his body had been completely healed. There wasn’t so much as a scratch on him.
His eyes locked onto the man. He looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place exactly where he’d seen him before. One thing was certain, however. This man was extremely powerful if he’d managed to chase off all those assassins.
“How did you do it?” he asked.
He knew this man was powerful, but he just had to know.
“You were pretty banged up, but healing wounds such as yours really isn’t a big deal,” the man replied with a wave of his hand.
“No. How did you chase off the assassins?”
The man looked genuinely surprised.
“What assassins? I didn’t see any around here.”
Arnold stared at him suspiciously for a few moments, but not detecting any lie in the man’s face or posture, he shrugged and forced himself onto his feet.
Why would the assassins have left him alive? Sure, he was on the verge of death, but he didn’t think they would just up and leave before confirming that he actually was dead.
“So who are you anyway? And why did you heal me?” he asked, folding his arms and staring down at the man.
Now that he knew the man wasn’t all powerful, he was more confident in dealing with him.
“I’m actually here on orders,” the man replied.
“Whose orders?”
“The Merchants Guild,” he replied, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Arnold.
He’d been heading to them anyway, but they wouldn’t have known that. Something wasn’t quite right with this situation.
“How did you know I was coming, and why would the Merchants Guild be interested in me?”
The man shuffled nervously but answered all the same.
“We have a number of informants in the North Kingdom who placed you at the side of Princess Katherine. From the reports, we had assumed that you were working for her directly, but when you left the palace without your possessions and began running south like the devil himself was chasing you, we figured that the two of you had had a falling out.”
Arnold blinked.
That was one hell of a deduction. The people that they had working for them must be top notch.
“Seems you’ve figured me out, but you still haven’t explained why you came after me.”
The man blinked in surprise.
“We assumed that you were coming to us, so I was sent out here to fetch you.”
“And they just so happened to send a healer?”
/> He wasn’t buying any of this.
The man shrugged.
“I only do as I’m ordered. The person who gave me the orders is the one you should really be talking to. She can provide you with all the answers you’ll need. Now, do you want to come with me or not?”
Arnold thought about it for a few seconds, before nodding.
He was heading to the guild anyway, so he might as well.
“Very well then. Stand back.”
The man pulled a parchment scroll from his pocket and placed it on the ground. Then he pulled a small vile of glowing blue liquid from another pocket and upended it on the parchment. A moment later, a swirling portal appeared over the paper. It looked similar to one of Katherine’s, but it wasn’t quite the same.
“Impressive,” Arnold said with a nod.
He wasn’t even aware that magic like this existed.
“We expect you to keep quiet about this, of course, as it’s information the guild would rather not get around.”
Arnold nodded his agreement.
Magic like this could change everything in the Five Kingdoms, so it was best to keep quiet about it. For now.
“So do I just step through?”
“Yes. I take it you’ve used portals before?”
Arnold let out a snort, then stepped through the portal. He emerged a moment later into a well-lit room. The floors were lined with some sort of springy material, and the walls seemed to be made of panels of waxed paper.
The man stepped through the portal a moment later and it snapped closed behind him.
“I must ask you to remove your boots,” the man said.
Arnold turned to him and noticed that his boots were tucked under his arm.
“Strange custom,” he said, leaning down and unlacing his boots.
“You’ll get used to it very quickly if you live here. It is considered common courtesy.”
Arnold managed to work his boots off and tucked them under his arm.
“Very good. Follow me,” the man said, sliding one of the panels aside and walking down a narrow corridor.
Arnold followed him, eyes roaming over the stage décor lining the walls.