“What? Kevin put a dagger into his eye as he was leaving their manor five years ago! He loves telling that story,” Oliver protested, the handsome blond foreigner offering one of the sausages to Rene, who savagely speared it before holding it over the flames. “How could you see him there?”
Edward shrugged, settling back and shaking his head. “I’ve no idea how he survived, but he’s missing an eye, so Kevin must’ve been mistaken about how deep his knife went. Regardless, it means that some of our old contracts are still alive and kicking.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Xaris rumbled, and they all looked at their tall, lean leader, his voice deep despite his slight frame. His eyes were like coal, and his smile was unfriendly as he shook his head, running a hand over his shaven skull. “Our current contract is more important. Leave them alone, we’ll talk to the Guildmaster once we’ve dealt with the dungeon. Old contracts can always be dealt with later.”
“Sure. Seems like a better idea than trying to get too fancy,” Oliver agreed.
“How hard do you think killing the dungeon will be?” Rene asked, glancing at Xaris curiously. “I didn’t think it would be easy, mind, but the question won’t leave me alone.”
“Depends on a lot of things, but dryads don’t like fire, so we’ll start there. The city actually should make this easier, if rumors are accurate and the dungeon keeps coming out to talk to their nobles,” Xaris told her, sitting back on his rock and stretching his legs. “That’ll mean there’s a shortcut somewhere. We just need to find it, and as soon as we’re in range, we shut the damned thing down and kill it. Get in, kill it, and we’re golden.”
“Assuming the teleport stone works,” Oliver muttered softly.
“It should. Kevin checked it before even taking the contract,” Edward replied, beginning to heat his own sausage. “I don’t think he’d sacrifice all of us pointlessly.”
“He wouldn’t, but mistakes happen. We’ll take this slowly and carefully,” Xaris told them, smiling again as he added, “Though I doubt that it’ll take us too long. It shouldn’t cause any problems if we wait a week or two.”
“Slaid Darkeye, is it? I’ve heard of you,” Phynis spoke in a friendly tone, standing as the man stepped into the small dining room. The man had short-cut black hair and a black eyepatch over his left eye, but his beard was well-trimmed and he was surprisingly handsome, despite the numerous scars that adorned his arms and face. He was also wearing plain but reasonably nice clothing. She suspected that he kept the clothing mostly for meetings like this one.
“Queen Constella, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Slaid replied with a bow, smiling slightly. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you know of me. The question is how much you know about me.”
“Your actual name is Slaid Damrung, survivor of the Damrung Massacre, when your entire family was murdered in the night. Your grandfather was Duke Damrung, and was the last noble of Kelvanis to resist Ulvian Sorvos’ control of Kelvanis,” Phynis replied calmly, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “You have partnered with the few surviving abolitionists in Kelvanis, along with the old Crown Loyalists, to try to overthrow the current regime. My family supported you as we could, as did the crown of Yisara, as I recall.”
“Sounds like you know more than I thought you did,” Slaid replied with a chuckle, smiling and nodding around the room. “May I ask who else is here? I don’t recognize any of the others except for Umar and Adrian.”
The former was lurking near the punch bowl, while Adrian chatted animatedly with Ruby. Apparently Adrian was the representative of nearly a thousand escaped slaves, which had surprised Phynis until she’d learned that he’d been an extremely skilled healer and vocal opponent of Kelvanis’ government before his enslavement.
Nodding toward the corner, Phynis began simply. “The dryad in the corner is Sistina, the intelligence of the dungeon and architect of our little city. She’s also my lover, along with the Jewels. They are the ladies who you see scattered about the room with unusual hair colors, Ruby is talking to Adrian. Each of them were priestesses of Medaea that were captured and enslaved by one of Kelvanis’ Adjudicators before their rescue. They have a relationship with Sistina and myself. Captain Desa Iceheart is by the window with Court Mage Farris, they were both my guards before I left Sifaren, and are among my most loyal servants. Yes, Farris is made of stone, her body is that of a golem. The situation there is a touch complex.”
Turning slightly, she nodded as she continued. “Albert Windgale is the leader of the Western Adventuring Guild in town, and he’s speaking with Earl Thatcher, a Kelvanis soldier who defected some time ago. I don’t see Kassandra just yet, but the sun hasn’t fallen, so I’m not surprised. You won’t be able to miss her, she’s a human and unnaturally pale. She’s going to be running the Mage Academy in Beacon. The others declined to attend, I’m afraid, so whoever is here will have to do.”
“That’s a lot of women, Your Majesty. Why?” Slaid asked curiously, looking at the room of people from beside her. Along one wall was a table of refreshments, and Phynis moved toward it slowly, with him following in her wake.
“Well, it started with my personal guard all being female. Then we had the priesthood of Medaea show up, who were also all women. Add to that the preponderance of slaves who happened to be nearby being women, and it snowballed. Numbers have equaled out now that we’re freeing laborers and farmhands, but at the moment men in the palace are outnumbered by women almost eight to one,” Phynis replied wryly, shaking her head. “It wasn’t intentional, but once someone pointed it out a week ago, I haven’t been able to avoid noticing.”
“Fair enough. It’s definitely something I noticed right away.” Slaid seemed amused and smiled for a moment, before his smile faded and he asked more seriously, “That being said, I have to ask what it is you had in mind? You’ve got a massive city here, but it’s almost deserted.”
“That’s our main problem. We have powerful defenses, and the more time passes, the more golem soldiers Sistina can build for us, but it’s a matter of time. Kelvanis is attacking Sifaren as we speak, and things are starting to unravel all around us. We don’t have time or manpower, Slaid,” Phynis replied, the weight of her position descending on her again. “Sistina can easily make weapons and armor, but we don’t have the people or the time to train them to fight. I suspect we’ll be able to defend Beacon against almost anything Kelvanis can throw at us in the short term, but…”
He nodded as she trailed off, his voice serious. “I entirely understand. The reason I ask is that while we have a lot of people in my organization, we simply can’t equip them properly. More than a few times we’ve considered going to Sifaren or Yisara and working out of their territory, but that would make us like foreigners. Even now I’m loathe to simply join you, but at this point we don’t have much of a choice. I could have a few thousand men and women here within weeks if I asked, but the question is whether or not you’re willing to take the risk of their presence.”
Phynis understood his point clearly. A few thousand trained soldiers inside the walls could be devastating if they were hostile, but she nodded and smiled at him, beginning to fill a plate with food. “While I would be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned about the presence of so many outsiders, I have few options at present, and everything I’ve heard about you helps to put me at ease. If you’re willing to bring them together, I’m more than happy to work with you, Slaid. There’s only one thing we need to address first.”
“When to stop, if we win, and who gets what,” Slaid replied levelly, prompting a nod from her as he smiled and nodded. “I won’t stop until the Archon, the Adjudicators, and the Justicars are removed from power. Everything else can be rebuilt into a new government, given time. I consider that to be victory.”
“I require slavery to be abolished in Kelvanis, and for Kelvanis to return to its borders from 20 years past, unless the native inhabitants choose to remain as part of the nation,” Phynis replied, her voice calm a
s she added, “Former slaves must be given enough to survive for a year and allowed to leave the nation.”
“I see no issue with that,” Slaid agreed, pouring a glass of punch. He extended it, and Phynis clinked a glass of her own against his.
“Excellent. Do we have an agreement, then?” she asked.
“I believe we do,” Slaid agreed, and both of them took a drink. A moment later, he chuckled darkly. “I do believe diplomats would have a fit of apoplexy at how we just negotiated, though.”
“It’d be good for them,” Phynis replied brightly, smiling as Diamond approached. “We can figure out exact details in the coming days, but I think we have a basis for working together.”
“Indeed. Making certain that Ulvian Sorvos is buried in an unmarked grave,” Diamond spoke softly, prompting growls of agreement from everyone in earshot.
Chapter 11
“It’s so damned weird walking around a dungeon like this,” Darak said, the brown-bearded dwarf looking up at the ceiling of the dungeon’s fifth floor sourly. His armor was splattered with sap and other ichor, and Joseph just knew that the other man would gripe endlessly when he had to clean it later.
“How is it much different than before? The rooms are closer together than they used to be, and aside from the firestorm tree exploding into a fire elemental, it hasn’t been that bad,” Penelope asked, cleaning her sword off on a fallen wolf. Joseph’s beloved had somehow managed to avoid most of the grime that encrusted Darak, and she’d braided her own brown hair and pinned it in a tight coil around her head. Her eyes were dark brown and positively dancing in amusement as she glanced over at Joseph. “In fact, I’d almost say it’s better since we don’t have to trek for miles before getting somewhere useful.”
“I’m annoyed because we all know the dungeon isn’t even trying! She’s watching us run around for her own amusement, like… like a child watching a puppet show!” Darak growled, throwing a hand out to either side of himself to point at the walls around them. “With other dungeons, at least I know they aren’t occupied with something like building a damned city!”
“Other dungeons aren’t able to build golems like those we’ve seen outside,” Nirath spoke softly, the elf leaning on her staff as she waited, her black hair pulled back in a ponytail that cut off at her shoulders. The new haircut looked nice on her, which was good since the incident with the fire jet had made it a necessity. “I don’t know about you, Darak, but I certainly wouldn’t care to run into a half-dozen of those down here.”
“I know that! It just feels wrong,” Darak replied, sighing and shaking his head.
“While the dungeon may not be trying to kill us, you know as well as I do she isn’t trying to make things easy, either,” Joseph spoke at last, nodding to Penelope as he continued, waiting on the others for the moment. “Albert hasn’t been too close-lipped about his conversations with Sistina. In large part she wants the fights to be difficult, but not impossible, and to allow us to escape if needed. It’s good for her in the long run, and apparently she enjoys watching how we deal with things. Besides, how many dungeons do you think might actually take requests about what sort of things you’d like to bring out?”
“None that I know of,” the dwarf admitted grudgingly. “Though I suppose no one has really tried before, either.”
“A fair point.” Joseph nodded in turn, groaning as he stretched a leg. “Even so, it is what it is, and we’d best get going. Martin said the next floor was water-based, right?”
“He did,” Penelope replied, her voice sour. “They ran into water elementals, a bunch of carnivorous flying fish, and what looked like a giant octopus, of all things.”
“Dammit, I had enough trouble with the Cerulean Dungeon. The last thing I want is a repeat of that!” Darak cursed, standing up and hefting his axe. The dwarf began to lead the way, and Penelope followed close behind. Joseph didn’t hesitate, following her as his sore leg complained at him. He must’ve twisted it earlier.
“We don’t know how it’ll compare. Martin didn’t tell us how the floor was laid out, so we’d best be cautious,” Nirath warned, following the others as she buttoned up her trench coat.
“Another good point, out of many. I wish he wasn’t so… vague at times,” Penelope murmured, looking around as they began to descend. Partway down, the tunnel split, the left fork adorned by a tent symbol carved into the wall, light pouring from the entrance. “Huh. Doesn’t this symbol mean this is a safe zone?”
“According to the sign outside, yes,” Joseph confirmed, shifting around her to peek down the tunnel. “What’s it like?”
“Damned strange,” Darak replied, moving farther down the passage and allowing the others to look into the room.
The chamber wasn’t huge, but there was a glowing crystal orb in the ceiling to provide light to the entire room, and what it revealed made Joseph’s eyebrows rise in surprise. There was a crystalline pond fed by a fountain from the wall, surrounded by grass and a number of flowers, while a stone table and benches sat nearby, next to a fireplace in which a flame burned without fuel.
“That is… different. Far more comfortable-looking than I anticipated,” Nirath admitted, shaking her head. “Still, we rested in the last room. I don’t see us needing to use this room. Agreed?”
With a murmur of assent, they continued onward, and as they descended, Joseph could hear faint sounds similar to the release of air from a steam engine. He frowned, but didn’t say anything.
Darak paused as he came to the entrance of the next room, his axe up, but his voice was distinct in his distress. “Oh, hells. This looks damned lovely.”
The room in front of him was large, and looking into it, Joseph swore under his breath. “Ah, shit. Penelope, you got that rope?”
“Of course I do. Why do you want it?” she asked, glancing at him curiously.
“Because I think we need to tie it around me, so you can drag me out when I fall into the water. Damned dungeon,” Joseph replied in resignation, his words causing Darak to burst into laughter.
The room was long and relatively narrow. Each end of the room had a large platform, and the gap in between the platforms was filled with water. Small stone pedestals were spaced about five feet apart, creating three separate paths that led to the other side of the room. The problem was that each pedestal was slightly under water, and what looked like blowholes in each of them periodically sent blasts of water into the air. Joseph was grimly certain that he was going to either slip and fall into the water during a jump, or that one of those jets was going to send him flying.
Darak’s dark, stone-like skin lightened as the dwarf dismissed Shale, his summoned spirit. The dwarf explained, still smirking, “While I’m not as clumsy as Joe, I don’t think we need two of us falling in. I’m a lot more comfortable with this if I’m not four times my normal weight.”
“Thanks a lot,” Joseph muttered, glaring at the water and sighing, almost slumping in place. “Why did she do something like this? I’m not the most agile person in the world!”
“I can’t say that I’m certain, but I suspect this is another test,” Nirath replied, stepping into the room and staring at the water with narrowed eyes. “If I’m not mistaken, there aren’t creatures in the water, which means we at least aren’t going to be attacked in the middle of the room. Water elementals are admittedly possible, but that’s a slightly different problem.”
“That’s good news. At least we’re not going to be fighting off a pack of voracious fish while dragging you out of the water, Joe,” Penelope teased, grinning broadly at his scowl. “What?”
“I hate you all,” the cleric announced, glowering at all of them, then sighed. “Come on, let’s get this over with. Just don’t let me drown, please?”
The chorus of chuckles wasn’t comforting, particularly when even Nirath joined in the mirth.
Chapter 12
“High Priestess?” Diane asked, blinking in shock as she paused in the seamstress’ small salon. The Silv
er Dynasty was a well-regarded establishment, and the rooms were all lined in fine wood paneling with elaborate furnishings and rugs, which helped soften some of the stifling nature of the human city.
Elissa of Silence, the high priestess of Tyria in the city, looked up from her tea and smiled broadly as she stood up. The black-haired human was petite, barely over five feet in height, but quite beautiful, and her brilliant eyes were a strange purplish-blue, dancing at the sight of Diane. Unlike her usual white robes that were sheer to reveal her religious brand, Elissa was wearing an elaborate blue gown with gold embroidery. The human spoke brightly as she approached. “Diane! I didn’t expect to meet you here! What brings you out into the city today?”
“My wardrobe is growing stale, and Ulvian asked that I get a few new dresses made,” Diane replied in embarrassment, smoothing the crimson velvet gown she wore. It was tight, actually, but she shrugged and added, “This was the only seamstress Maria could recommend for elves, so I thought it would be best.”
“Of course, of course. Ulvian is still being a controlling ass, then? Of course he is, that’s a stupid question.” Elissa shook her head and gestured toward the table. “Please, join me for tea. Who’s your guard? I assume she’s your guard, based on her expression.”
“Thank you, Elissa,” Diane replied, gratefully moving to sit, but paused as Elissa looked behind her, where Serel was hovering silently, watching like a hawk. “This is Enforcer Serel. She was assigned as my personal bodyguard. I suspect she’s also my jailor.”
Serel was taller than either of them, standing six feet in height and with far more athletic of a figure. Her body was evident under tight black leather reinforced by lightweight plates of blackened mithral, and she had a long blade at her side. The guard had black hair and only a few tasteful scars, accompanied by a strange tattoo over her left cheek, and her eyes were light blue, though not as vivid as Elissa’s own. Serel was largely silent, and her manners left Diane nervous most of the time, feeling like a mouse within reach of a viper.
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