Dungeon Lord (The Wraith's Haunt Book 1)

by Hugo Huesca

  So, she invoked her last resort.

  “Mercy, my Lord, I am defeated!” she begged again. “I’ll put myself in your service in exchange for my life! I’ll put my entire cluster at your service!”

  Silence. But she wasn’t losing any more legs.

  Her two remaining eyes saw the blurry figure of the Dungeon Lord standing in front of her, sword in hand.

  “Last time, you offered me a pact,” she reminded him, without daring to answer his question. “I have reconsidered the offer.”

  “I told you we would meet again,” said the Dungeon Lord, in a soft voice. “You were going to eat them all, weren’t you?”

  “I can help you!” she told him. “I know Hoia’s secrets better than the Rangers ever will, and they can be yours if you let me live. I know the mindbrood better than any human, I can help you capture it, kill it or harness it if you desire. I can make you more powerful, I can provide you with hundreds of expendable warriors!”

  Was he even listening to her? She managed to shift her body around, to follow his gaze. The last of the blacksmith’s family was disappearing down the big crater. Once the girl was gone, he gave the Queen his full attention.

  “That offer has expired, Amphiris,” he told her. “Goodbye.”

  The Queen roared like she had never roared, and managed to jerk her maimed body upward, her mandibles looking for a human neck with all her might and power put behind the bite.

  There he was! Her last-ditch effort had caught him by surprise. He missed his footing, fought for balance, all with her mandibles coming closer and closer to his neck.

  Amphiris could almost taste his sweet blood—

  And then, too fast to be possible, he began to squat while driving his weight forward, sword gripped like a spear, tip aimed straight at her face, her bite missing his hairline by millimeters.

  How?

  Too fast! He should have died there! The tip of the sword reached her mouth just as the answer came to her mind.

  I forgot, she thought as the iron pierced her, that’s his only combat talent. Improved reflexes, isn’t it? I should have remembered. I should have—

  There was only pain.

  Ed had expected that Amphiris would die after a hit like that. The Queen was dying, just not as fast as he would have liked.

  “Aurrgghhh!” The spider thrashed and convulsed and spewed envenomed saliva and blood everywhere, her mandibles and her horn swinging about, as deadly now as they had been before, fumes of vapor flowing from the ground where the blue goo splotched.

  Ed’s blade had reached her brain, he was almost sure of it, but still the Queen refused to die. Seeing her like this was more sickening than the very act of killing her.

  He stepped back, away from her pointy ends, but forced himself to not look away. After all, he had done this. It was his responsibility to see it through the end. He sighed, then let his body relax. The effort of using his improved reflexes had almost knocked him out, and it was the first time he had used them today. It was clear he wasn’t yet recovered from yesterday’s efforts, and now he felt like his body was made out of slush and trembling muscles.

  “Aurgghhhhh!” Amphiris went on. More blood splashes, more vapor, more thrashing.

  Part of him was sickened by what he had done, since the creature was clearly intelligent and articulate, even if she liked to eat humans. The other part just wanted the Queen to stop screaming incoherently and die already.

  “You have to end her,” a woman’s voice whispered somewhere behind him. “Otherwise, it will be days before she finds peace.”

  Surprised, Ed jolted and turned back with a jump. The speaker was a spider. A princess, to be exact, and she had another five warriors with her.

  “Oh, shit,” he whispered. He was unarmed, and his drones hadn’t prepared new tunnels to keep the fight going. He glanced at Amphiris, who still had his sword pierced through her. If he could reach it, he could activate his eldritch edge and perhaps drive the spiders back—

  “I wish to parlay,” the spider interrupted his thoughts. The warriors next to her hadn’t moved, and instead retreated a couple steps, as if to give the two of them ground to talk.

  “You do?” Ed asked, surprised.

  “My name is Laurel, princess of Amphiris’ cluster,” the princess went on, as if chatting over tea and cookies. “I saw the fight from afar, but it was already over by the time we reached you both. You see, we were carrying more prisoners for the feast, but now I wish to set them free as a show of goodwill.”

  She gestured at two warriors and sent them on their way to four sacks of human-sized webbing not far away from them. Ed watched them go, not sure if he was stepping into a trap, or if Laurel’s intentions were sincere.

  “Auuurghhhh!” Amphiris screamed behind him.

  “Ah, shut up, Mother,” the princess told the dying Queen. “Die with some dignity.”

  The Queen didn’t listen to her daughter’s advice.

  Ed was definitely sick now.

  “What do you want?” he asked the princess.

  “An alliance, of course,” she said. “Isn’t it obvious? With our Queen gone, the cluster won’t be able to survive the winter, and the other clusters will take our land and burn our nests. We need a new Queen, and we also need a powerful ally to protect us while our numbers replenish.”

  “You are men-eaters,” Ed told her.

  “Indeed,” said Laurel, “but men aren’t the only meat we can eat. If our feeding habits displease you, we’ll change them.”

  “Will you?” asked Ed. He wasn’t expecting the spider’s cooperation.

  “Of course, my Lord. Whoever refuses to stop will be killed and devoured. As the new Queen, I’ll be within my right to do so.”

  Ah, so that’s why you’re anxious to deal with me. You want your mother’s throne.

  “Auuuuuurghh!” said Amphiris.

  “And if I don’t accept?” Ed asked.

  “Then most likely we’ll both die fighting each other, and the mindbrood will escape our grasp, eat your kind, lay its eggs in the survivors’ brains, and leave them to spread the Bane to other nests like Burrova.”

  I figured as much, he thought. Still, the idea of allying with the spiders pleased him as much as a spiderling bite to the crotch.

  On the other hand…wouldn’t the spiders be better under his command than roaming free, preying on innocent people? Perhaps he would be able to use them to do some good.

  Look at me, he almost laughed aloud, already having to convince myself I’m not going Dark.

  He looked Laurel square in her many eyes, and nodded an agreement.

  “I extend to you a pact,” he told her, and the familiar mist spread out of his chest and fingertips while his Evil Eye blazed green, showering the spider in eldritch shapes and shadows.

  The creature retreated at the sight of him, with her remaining warriors doing the same.

  “You look like the undead,” Laurel muttered. “Such a sight will drive fear into the hearts of my enemies.”

  “My terms are as follows,” Ed went on. “You will tell me the truth. You will obey my commands, as long as they are reasonable. And you won’t prey on innocent humans—or any intelligent life, for that matter. In exchange, you and yours will be protected to the best of my ability, and I won’t lie to you or harm you.”

  “I accept,” said Laurel, and the mist touched her, connecting her with the Dungeon Lord and making her his minion. It soon did the same to her warriors, who accepted it as soon as they were able to. “Congratulations, Dungeon Lord, the cluster will follow you. You have increased your power on this day.”

  “Congratulations, Queen Laurel.” Ed smiled fiercely, and he was aware that this, too, was part of the Lordship’s ancient traditions. “May our friendship be long and prosperous.”

  They weren’t two different creatures bound by necessity, then, but two rulers who had allied themselves to become more powerful, together, than they had been as enemies. Fo
r the faintest of instants, Ed saw Laurel as she saw herself. A beautiful and terrible Queen, whose rule had just started.

  Who knew what she saw when she looked at him?

  Then, the moment passed. The Evil Eye turned itself off, and Ed was back to feeling tired and sickened.

  “Now that that’s done,” Ed said, “we go hunting for the mindbrood.”

  Last time he had seen it, it had been with Gallio. Ed found himself wishing that the Sheriff had had better luck than he had at finding it.

  “I can spare two warriors,” said Laurel, “my Lord Wraith. The other three I need as bodyguards. My sister is still out there, and she may not agree with my coronation.”

  “Why not come with me?” Ed asked, and added, “And what do you mean, ‘Lord Wraith’?”

  “That’s the undead you most remind me of,” the spider said, then chuckled dryly. “I have to stay here, my Lord, because I must claim my mother’s ancient memories for myself, if I want to be a Queen. I’m afraid I’ll be of little use until I do so. Instinct, you see, is a ruler even more powerful than you are.”

  Ed raised an eyebrow, and then realized that Laurel was eying her mother with hunger reflected in her eyes. A shiver went down Ed’s spine, and it wasn’t from the cold.

  Are all creatures in Ivalis obsessed with consuming each other?

  He almost smacked himself. Of course they were. Earth was no different.

  “You do you,” he muttered, and then, louder, “Can I trust you to protect the villagers while I’m gone?”

  “You have my promise I won’t take even a small bite,” the new Queen said. “Even if we weren’t bound by pact, I’ll have more than my share of meat in a moment.”

  Ed shook his head, took a deep breath, and went to retrieve his sword from Amphiris’ still-convulsing body.

  24

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Renew your Vows

  Gallio had seen Burrova grow since he had arrived in the first caravan. To what many Inquisitors would mean a life sentence in exile, he had transformed into a chance to begin anew, to start a life far away from Dungeon Lords and their machinations, from the intrigues of the Heiligian court, from the terrible responsibilities the Church expected him to shoulder.

  He had created this village, in a way, and for a time he had been content. Perhaps the gods could be merciful, after all. Perhaps the Light had finally forgotten about him.

  Ah, how did that saying go?

  Never wonder if that’s the hardest Fate can hit you, he thought, while Burrova burned around him.

  He raised a hand in front of his face to protect his eyes from the hot ashes and the smoke, and walked crouched in the shadow of the burning wreckage of what had once been a seamstress's shop. Her name was Marya, which was common enough for Starevos. But Gallio had known this Marya personally, a middle-aged lady whose husband had died during the first caravan to Starevos.

  Was she still alive? Had she managed to escape from the Bane, and from the spiders? Would she be able to escape from him, if he accepted the duty the Light demanded of him?

  Not fucking likely.

  It seemed that Edward Wright’s presence had doomed his little village. The day he appeared, asking for adventuring work, was the day that the fate of Burrova had been sealed.

  He scanned the shadows of the seamstress’ shop, looking for movement. The mindbrood had escaped him after a long chase, and the idea of the lurking creature getting near the people under his protection made him sick.

  There was movement by the area behind the shop. Too small to be humans, too numerous to be the Bane. But they were coming his way, trying their best not to be detected. Too bad for them, he had bought the alert talent when he was but a boy.

  Gallio gritted his teeth, readied his mace, and hugged the corner between the shop and the alley, exposing his back to the embers of the fire.

  The first warrior appeared close to him, unaware of the ambush. Gallio roared and brought his mace down with all his strength, a movement he had practiced over and over again at the academy until it had become second nature.

  The spider’s many eyes widened in surprise, and then the mace reached its head. The horn broke in a thousand shards, and the chitin beneath it crunched, and blood and goo sprayed out like a small fountain.

  The spider screamed, tried to jump back, but its legs failed it and it collapsed, its body already shaking in its death throes before it knew what had happened.

  The remaining warrior was faster than its companion. It jerked to the right, ducked under Gallio’s sweep, made a feint with its horn that forced the Sheriff to step back, and then shot a string of web his way.

  He tried to jump away, but the liquid substance hit his leg and glued him to the ground, and his movement catapulted him against the hard ground and almost broke his knee.

  “No!” Gallio screamed. That hit should never have landed. When had he become so slow and clumsy?

  “Stop!” the spider said, while it hissed at him. “Stop! We are not your enemies anymore. A pact has been made.”

  “What are you talking about?” Gallio demanded. Behind the warrior, a small stream of spiderlings surged beneath its legs and surrounding the Sheriff.

  “Queen Laurel and the Wraith,” the warrior said, “have become allies. The Wraith killed Queen Amphiris in singular combat, and now we serve him. The humans are safe. You are free to join us in the hunt for the mindbrood.”

  Gallio’s blood curled. He didn’t even hear the spider’s last phrase.

  The Wraith! It hadn’t taken Edward long to learn how to play the Dungeon Lords’ game. How fast would Murmur’s corruption work on him? First, a spider cluster. Then, a kaftar cackle. Then mercenaries, Warlocks, naga…

  Dungeon Lords and spiders and mindbroods, all of them being strung along by the Dark, all of them playing with the lives of his people while they made their alliances and their schemes.

  And Gallio could do nothing but watch.

  “Are you part of the Wraith’s allies?” the warrior said. “If you are, join us. The Bane must be caught.”

  “I’ll never join you.” Gallio spat at the ground, and tugged at his leg, trying to free it. No avail.

  He was too old, too weak. He couldn’t do it. Not by himself.

  “Then you’ll be a prisoner. The Wraith will know what to do with you.” The warrior turned to leave while the spiderlings advanced, closing on the Sheriff.

  Dungeon Lords, the Bane, and spiders. His people in the middle of it all. And the Light? Where was it?

  If all the Light has is me, then I will have to be enough.

  The man managed to kneel, his fists digging long trails of dirt. He was muttering to himself.

  “—not merciful,” he said, as the critters closed in. “That’s what I know, now. You are not merciful, Alita. So don’t grant me mercy. That, I don’t expect from you any longer. Not mercy, not respite, not forgiveness. Return me my power! And I will never leave your side again…I’ll be your faithful servant until the day of my death, that I offer to you! Pact with me, goddess, and I’ll make the Light’s will be done!”

  And the goddess answered. The smoke around him parted, like an invisible giant had blown it away. A rush of heat and power shot straight through his heart and spread all over his body.

  A familiar sensation, one that he had felt years before, when he was young and hopeful. The goddess was not merciful, but she was practical, and she never let go of a useful tool.

  Gallio would be her tool. The power reached his eyes, and they glowed bright, white, absolute. His mace shone with golden carvings, drawn in fiery lines of molten silver.

  The spiderlings stopped in their tracks when the Inquisitor stood, and the web that held him burned away like it was nothing.

  The spider warrior turned back.

  “What?” it asked, as the burning white gaze of the Inquisitor shone upon him and sentenced the spider to death.

  “This is the only mercy the Light knows,�
� Gallio explained. “And it is called…Sunwave!”

  The explosion of white light engulfed them all.

  Ed stumbled, and closed his eyes. He barely managed to remain on his feet, but he had to use his sword as a stick for balance.

  What the hell?

  His heart felt like something hot and cruel had pierced it. The brightness! Had that been an explosion?

  He had never seen anything like it. A semi-circle of pure white light engulfing half a block.

  The explosion disappeared as suddenly as it had come, but it left an afterimage. The Dungeon Lord blinked several times and cursed loudly.

  “Are you hurt, Lord Wraith?” asked one of his two spider warriors.

  “That light,” he told his spiders, “was a spell, right?”

  “We have never seen it before,” the spider said, “but we are only two winters old. Perhaps you should ask our Queen? Her memory goes far.”

  Ed shook his head. No time to backtrack. He had to find the Bane. Besides, he could bet what the explosion had been.

  Gallio.

  It made sense. A former Inquisitor, with Light-aligned magic. It seemed the man had renewed his vows.

  With any luck, he had killed the Bane. Ed had learned not to blindly trust luck, though.

  “Let’s go,” he said, pointing in the direction of the explosion. “Perhaps our enemy is there.”

  They ran as one, the spiders easily keeping up with his tired legs. They passed by the ruins of the scant buildings of Burrova while the palisade burned around it all.

  At least the fire hadn’t managed to spread further. A stroke of luck, but also Ed’s doing. His drones were hard at work bringing down the unburnt parts of the wall and any surviving buildings nearby. He hoped he could deprive the blaze of its fuel. If the flames spread to the forest, it could be disastrous.

  But it will be even worse if the mindbrood gets away.

  There were more villages like Burrova, and a port that could spread the infection to the whole of Ivalis.

  “Lord Wraith, look,” one of his spiders called next to him. “Over there.”