by Eric Ugland
Tarryn came up, and peeked through the gap.
And promptly shot back down as one of the deepteeth workers threw itself against the tabletops at just the right time.
But the contraption held, and Tarryn shook his head before peering through again.
“There are light grooves in the floor,” he said, “leading to two of the tunnels. One is where the bulk of the deepteeth have come out of, so I think it goes to the mine. But the other is two hallways to the left of the mine. I’m willing to bet that leads outside. See it?”
I leaned in, and in between the claws and jaws of the deepteeth, I followed where Tarryn was pointing. Sure enough, there were very faint wheel marks leading down the hallway.
“Let’s try,” I said. I turned around to the rest of the group. “Tarryn’s going to fireball. Then, we all push. I don’t know how well this thing is going to turn, but we’re going to find out. Last hallway on the left is the goal. Use shield if you need. Otherwise, push.”
I got nods back.
“Push it out a bit when I tell you,” Tarryn said, eyes closed and already weaving his hands in a mystical sort of pattern.
Bear suddenly reached out and touched him. Tarryn’s eyes popped open, and I could see they were glowing.
“A little boost,” Bear said.
Tarryn nodded, then went back to his spell.
“Now,” Tarryn said.
I pushed the table fortress out about a foot. Tarryn stepped out to the side then released the spell.
“Pull back!” he shouted.
I pulled the contraption back into the hallway as there was a loud explosion. The room erupted in an unbelievable brightness of flames. There was definitely some screeching and whatnot from the creatures caught in the inferno.
“PUSH!” I shouted, and we all pushed.
I don’t know how much the others helped, but it might have been a lot. Regardless, we shot out of the hallway at a run, the shield-table-wall pushing burning and flailing bodies out of the way like sort of demented snow-plow.
“TURN!” I shouted.
There was a grand sort of screeching noise as the back end swung around, and we got mostly lined up with the last hallway on the left.
“PUSH!”
And we pushed.
We hit the edge of the wall, and the shield structure bumped a few times before getting settled in, and we were in the hallway.
“It worked!” I shouted, turning to look at the rest of the group.
They were smiling and happy, but I noticed one troubling detail. The shield-table-contraption, which we had built on wheels to make sure we’d be able to push the monster, was still rolling into the hallway. And it was accelerating.
Chapter Fifty-Two
We had two main things going against us: one, the hallway headed downhill, and two, the deepteeth workers were still throwing themselves at the rear of our shield-table. So after about a hundred feet, everyone in the thing had to start running along with it. Or, in terms of Tarryn, I had to snatch him and pick him up.
After a particularly nasty hit, the contraption sped up, and we were really cooking down the hill. Or, down the hallway.
“Grab on!” I said. “Let’s go for a ride.”
The group grabbed on to what they could, hopping up so they didn’t have to run along. It was abundantly clear that any stumble would mean getting run over by literal tons of rolling metal.
There was no slowing the contraption down. I mean, I probably could have put my feet down and tried to Flintstone-brake the ride, but I only had the one pair of boots and I didn’t feel the need to ruin them just yet. I hoped we’d just slow down to a natural stopping point before one of us got hurt.
That’s not exactly what happened.
We did stop, it was just a little faster than expected. And after a much longer trip than expected. There were curves and bumps, and the damn thing kept going faster and faster, I even saw sparks fly a few times as metal bits came into contact with the stone walls. Finally, though, we got to the end. The hallway ended in an open room that was something like shipping and receiving terminal, and we ran right into the wall. Well, we ran into some deepteeth workers who were so kindly standing in between us and the wall, so we got a softer landing than expected. There was a bit of a smoosh at the end, as well as a great spraying of guts from the big bugs.
Everyone riding the shield-wall-cart-thing crashed into each other. It was a fantastic bit of anarchy for a moment. Finally, I pushed Amber off of me, then stepped through the supports of the cart until I was in the main room.
It was empty.
Mostly.
There were some piles of crap, desiccated bits of wood, rusted metals and the like. The various remnants of crates and barrels. And something that looked like it had once been a wagon.
But in one of the walls, I could make out a big door. A sliding one, like you might see on a barn, or in a million Chip-and-Joanna-Gaines-inspired renovations.
“Door,” I said. “Let’s go!”
The others were less enthusiastic. I realized a lot of them could be injured.
“Anyone who can’t walk?” I asked.
A few moans and groans.
“We’ve gotta go, people, “ I shouted, hearing the clicking and clacking of deepteeth feet as they raced down the hallway trying to get to us.
Not willing to wait, I started pulling my party out of the contraption. Not quite throwing them all over my shoulders, but I wasn’t being gentle about getting them going either.
Ragnar and Skeld managed to get the door open. Sunlight poured in.
“Out!” I shouted, needlessly. I was the last through the door.
I saw claws coming around our shield table as I turned to shut the door. We were running out of time.
I slammed the door shut, just as several of the deepteeth crashed into it.
“Well that was fun,” I said, turning around and leaning against the stone of the mountain.
I smiled. No one else did.
Chapter Fifty-Three
The sun was high in the sky, somewhere past noon. Which was nice, but it was also an indicator of exactly how much time we’d lost being stuck in the treasury building our escape chariot. We saw the remains of a road leading downhill, and I could see the main valley of the Empire beyond. Almost a straight shot, really, though trees were starting to cover up proof of any civilization. There was also something of a road heading uphill, but it was even older than what was headed downhill, and only from a certain angle could you see it. The trees where the road had been were just a bit shorter and thinner than the rest of the trees making up the forest.
Every one in the group was sitting on the ground, breathing hard.
“Wulf,” I said, “where are we heading?”
Wulf looked at me, then around, then up at the sky. He slowly got up to his feet, and he rubbed his head.
“This way,” he said, pointing along the road going uphill.
“How far?” I asked.
“I do not know. Not exactly.”
“Are we talking a day? Two?”
“No. A few hours.”
“How are you all feeling?” I asked, looking at the group. “Do we need to camp for the night or can y’all push on?”
Everyone looked beat, but no one was willing to say they needed the rest.
“Okay, then,” I said, “we will push forward, and we’re going in for war. So armor up — get your weapons out, ready to rock.”
I pulled off the wyrmskin armor Zoey made for me and set it to the side. It’d taken a bit of damage in the events leading up to this last push, and I knew I was about to be in a big fight. I needed all the protection I could get. Which meant it was back to my bizarre collection of plate. I started pulling on the various bits and bobs, thinking of how it would be so much easier to just step into a suit of power armor. That started me wondering if there was a magical equivalent here in Vuldranni, which made me decide it would be a good project for Lee to look into.
&n
bsp; Skeld and Ragnar were done getting ready, and so they came over to help me get all my armor on and secured. It was much easier with help, because of all the clasps and knots.
“Which one of you wants to roll with me?” I asked. “Keep me supplied with weapons and the like.”
The two lutra stepped away and did their game of thumbs. It seemed Skeld was on a winning streak.
“I’ll do it,” Skeld said.
I passed the knapsack over to him. He couldn’t keep it on his belt like me, but he could wear it as a knapsack.
“You’re on healing potions, too,” I said. “There’s twelve in there. Make sure if someone’s going down—”
“I got it,” Skeld said. “I know how potions work.”
“Lovely.”
“What do I do?” Ragnar asked.
“Keep Skeld alive.”
Ragnar nodded.
Bear stood in front of me. “Shoulder mount?” she asked.
“You’re with Skeld,” I said. “If you’re on my shoulder, you might take a hit meant for me.”
“I can take a hit.”
“Sure, but you don’t have to. I need you slinging spells. Tarryn, you hold the rear with Amber. Meikeljan, you’re with Tarryn. Vreggork, you’re fighting?”
“You have extra spear?” he asked.
Skeld pulled one out of the bag and tossed it over.
Vreggork caught the spear, and spun it around until it snapped under his arm. “I fight.”
“Wulf?” I asked.
“I am just a guide,” he said, looking a bit ashamed he was taking the less-than-brave road.
“Fine,” I said. “Stay back with Tarryn.”
His massive furry head nodded.
“Let’s go knock some heads, and hunt some bears.”
“That is very offensive,” Wulf said. “We aren’t bears.”
“Yeah, sorry,” I said. “Uh, let’s just, uh, go finish this mission from God.”
I took point, heading up the remains of the road, which was a bit of a pain in the ass because it was so overgrown. And because it was newer growth, there were lower branches and shrubs and tightly packed tree trunks.
I looked over my shoulder, and motioned that we were going off the road, to the left.
This decision seemed to upset Wulf, but since he was at the back of the pack, I decided I didn’t care what he thought, and pushed forward with my own plan. We followed the road from the side. It was easier, and we were making pretty good time.
Things got steep. Really steep, where we had to do a little bouldering — not quite outright climbing. Finally, we got to the ridge line.
I stopped, and my team spread out on either side of me.
The forest slacked off, becoming just disparate trees before opening up into a mountain meadow. It was tranquil and beautiful, and I was a little confused. This certainly seemed like the bowl Wulf had told us about, but there was a decided lack of, say, corrupted ursus, or desecrated corpses. I was expecting a ritual, some big scary party happening to pull the thing corrupting the ursus into the world. But this was more like stumbling into an Ansel Adams photograph.
“What the fuck is going on, Wulf?” I asked.
He took a few steps in front of me, walking towards the grass. “I think it’s just further on,” he said.
I furtively pulled the stone out, and checked. It pointed in the same direction as Wulf.
“Okay,” I said, “keep in formation. But Tarryn and co, stick to the trees until I make sure the open field is safe, capiche?”
“Capiche?” Tarryn asked.
“Okay?”
“Sure. Want to save the making up of words for times when we aren’t about to fight overwhelming odds?”
“I could probably try that.”
I walked into the field. The grass went up past my knees, and hid uneven ground. I didn’t stumble, but that was likely due to my ability, Art of Movement, because the others were having a hard time keeping up with me.
Bear disappeared in the grass. I wondered if that might be useful to remember later. Maybe we could camouflage her so she’d be able to get in better battle position.
Halfway along the field, I heard something. I put my fist up in the air, signaling ‘Stop. Danger.’
I hefted up my shield, drew my sword, and waited.
Nothing.
The sound didn’t come again.
I looked all around the tree line, and realized there were two spots where roads came into the clearing. The one we’d been following, and another about twenty yards to the south of our grown-over road. It, too, was completely grown over, but had the same basic tells — new trees and growth. And it, too, seemed to go downhill, based on everything I could discern.
The sound again. Something a little bit like a jingle jangle. Not quite a bell, but... it came to me in a flash. Reins. A horse.
“Spears out,” I said, really wishing I could start traveling with a larger group or no group whatsoever. “There’s someone out there.”
A lone horse came trotting from the trees, not from the grown over road, but almost forty yards away. And on that horse was a posh-looking dipshit I recognized immediately.
“Caticorix,” I said. “What a fucking unpleasant surprise.”
He gave me that really annoying smile of his, tilting his head as his horse walked closer and closer.
“Duke Coggeshall,” he said. “You are a brusque sort, aren’t you?”
“Fuck you.”
“Is that how you greet another lord of the Empire?”
“Seems appropriate. What do you want?”
“I find you reprehensible and somewhat vulgar, and yet, my own lord has asked me to speak with you once more.”
“Lucky me.”
“It is, indeed, fortunate for you. You see, I wanted to just have you killed. Or kill you myself. Or arrange some horrible accident to befall you. But my lord has decided, in his beneficence, that you might serve a larger purpose than just being fed to my dogs. Thus, he has asked me to ask you, one last time, if you might be willing to join him in ruling the Empire.”
“You talk a good game, Caticorix,” I said. “Just, I don’t like you very much. I could certainly be persuaded to support your boss if you were, well, fed to your own dogs.”
“I fear he likes me quite a bit more than he likes you.”
“Maybe you should check.”
“Check what?”
“Ask him. Ask your lord, who maybe you should give me the name of as well, if he’s willing to get rid of you to have me on his team.”
“He won’t.”
“Are you afraid to ask?”
“I fear nothing.”
“Bubby, baby, scuzzbucket of puke. You’re afraid of everything, which is why you’re an illusion here and not yourself. Right? Ask your boss, for me.”
He glared at me, and I swear I could see sweat on his brow. He took out a small notebook and wrote something down.
“What’s the good word?” I shouted.
“My lord does not react on your time!” Caticorix shouted as a reply.
“Do you wonder why he’s here?” Skeld asked me, quietly.
“Yeah,” I said, scanning the trees and looking back to where I knew Tarryn and crew were hiding. “Bear, be sneaky and head back to check on Tarryn and company.”
I felt someone tap my calf twice, and I assumed that was Bear confirming my order.
Caticorix’s face paled, and then screwed up in rage.
“Ah,” I shouted, “mystery man would rather have me, eh?”
“You will die!” Caticorix retorted.
His image wavered, and then disappeared. We all readied for an attack, or something, but nothing happened.
“Bit anticlimactic,” I said.
“Maybe he meant it in more of an eventual way,” Ragnar said.
“Comment on inevitable mortality?” Skeld asked.
“Could be.”
“He doesn’t seem the type to engage in philos
ophy,” Skeld said.
“Maybe is just idiot,” Vreggork said.
“My vote’s with Vreggork,” I said.
What looked like a rocket streaked into the sky, and blew up over us in an almost beautiful display of sparks.
“Probably happening now,” I said, hunkering down and getting the shield up.
A primal roar came from behind us.
I jumped around, resetting.
Another roar answered from the west.
And a third from the east. The only side not represented was where we’d come from. We were mostly surrounded.
“Retreat?” Skeld asked.
“Not yet,” I said. “We don’t know what we’re up against.
The first minotaur came crashing through the trees, wearing full plate armor and wielding a massive mace.
“Too late,” I said. “Spear.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
I dropped the sword, and instantly felt a spear in my hand. I hauled back, and threw hard.
“Spear,” I said again.
I had the second spear in the air heading for a new target before the first hit.
And the first did hit, hard enough to stop the minotaur’s charge. It dented his armor and he stumbled, crashing to the ground. But the spear didn’t penetrate the plate, so I knew he was still alive.
The second target was the minotaur behind him.
And judging from the rumbling noise, more of the bull-men and women were coming up from my rear.
A warmth spread across my body, and a quick glimpse confirmed the haste spell from Bear.
I held my hand out, and another spear went in it. I threw it. Three more spears, and six down from that direction.
I kicked up the sword, snatched it from the air, pivoted on my heel, and charged.
The minotaurs were not expecting the charge, I think partially because they were already having a spot of trouble getting across the terrain at speed. But it also didn’t seem to make a ton of sense for a smaller creature, me, to charge a bigger creature. Then again, I’m not the sensible type. At least, not often.
Two steps in, and looking at my opponents, and I knew I had the wrong weapon. A basic steel longsword was nigh-on useless against full armor.