by RW Krpoun
Jeff wished he remembered where he had stashed the single day’s rations in his pack; he had dug through the pack at every rest break but hadn’t found it, and his belly was talking to him. He felt every minute of his age and a few years extra to boot, but pride kept him up and moving when everything in him was calling out for rest. He was a Ranger, in the military or out, and a Ranger never quits. He would walk until they got to where they needed to be or he dropped, whichever came first.
Shad was fed up, not that that was unusual for him. Unlike his normal status of being fed up with the failure of others to manage their part of the world in a suitable fashion, be it as individuals or cultures, he was fed up with his life. Normally a man who seldom questioned anything, he was finding himself seriously questioning his own existence. Was this his life: soldiering on in other people’s wars? Fighting in the defense of people he neither liked nor respected? Stuck doing the right thing for herds of morons too lazy, stupid, or liberal to do it for themselves? He trudged along bitterly resenting his predicament.
Behind the battered quartet Litam burned.
Chapter Seventeen
The Black Talons slept near their boat’s hiding place until dawn, not even bothering to post a guard, simply tossing their ground sheets on a likely patch of frost-bitten dirt and rolling into their blankets.
They woke slowly and sullenly, dragged back to awareness by necessity rather than choice, and all four resented the necessity.
“This sucks in every particular,” Jeff informed the world at large as he changed his socks.
“If two Death Lords showed up right now we would be back home before the first rune ignited,” Shad agreed. “Derek, say one cheerful word and you’re a dead man.”
“No danger of that.”
After a cheerless cold breakfast the four dragged the boat out from cover, inspected their equipment that had been stowed aboard, and then manhandled the craft into the river.
“That is about all I have left,” Jeff flopped onto a bench as the current caught the craft. “Last night took more out of me then I can spare.”
“I thought Rangers never quit,” Shad, who felt equally used up, snarled.
“That’s what I thought, too. I’m wondering if I was wrong.”
“We’ll take a day when we’re clear of the boat,” the warder conceded. “Catch our breath. I expect that the Reach will be tough.”
“The place no one survived? You think?” Fred muttered.
“How accurate is that whole ‘no one survived’ thing, anyway?” Shad asked.
“We could not find a single verified case of someone returning from the Reach,” Derek said quietly. “On at least two occasions Samurai took military forces into the place, the largest consisting of one hundred fifty men. None were ever seen again.”
“None were ever seen alive,” Jeff corrected him. “Heads were seen on the boundary markers.”
“Great.”
“So what does the Fang do to keep us alive?” Fred asked.
“I am not sure. I can’t activate it, and from what I can tell it is an area of effect type device, but what happens in that effect is a mystery to me. I’m figuring that going into the Reach turns it on, and it will even the odds for us once inside, based on what it took to power it up.”
“Makes sense,” Fred nodded as he adjusted the rudder. “Once we are inside the Reach pursuit is impossible. They planned this carefully.”
“Oh, and the Reach is a dead zone: no magical tracking or spying,” Derek added from where he was stretched out on a bench.
“Figures.”
“What are the chances of ambush by Midori’s bunch?” Fred muttered.
“Slim to none,” Derek sighed. “We picked up a spot not many people know about; in fact we only found one reference to it. Most written works on the subject only credit five access points to the Reach from lower ground. This isn’t one of the five. And they won’t know we aren’t carrying their marker until last night.”
“Looks like it is going to rain,” Shad observed gloomily. “That would just about top off the day.”
Except for Fred, who kept the boat off the various snags and stones of the river, the Black Talons dozed fitfully beneath their cloaks as occasional showers of rain pattered down.
Barges loaded with military supplies passed them, poling their way upstream towards Litam. Boat captains hailed them for news of the fighting, and Fred passed on what he could.
“You think the Imperial Army can hold the Stone at Litam?” Derek asked later in the afternoon.
“For a while,” Shad shrugged. “They’re familiar with Undead. But they’ll be worn down when the Death Lords’ main force arrives in a few days.”
“A few days may be all we need,” Fred pointed out. “The people who set this up planned it pretty well. By tonight we’ll be within a day’s march of the Reach. I bet the use of the Lance won’t involve a lot of travel, either.”
“That would be cool,” Jeff observed. “We could be home in a few days if that is the case.”
“Or dead,” Shad pointed out.
“Either way we’ll be out of this mess.”
They made a cold camp on the river bank, and despite copious complaining by all, set forth for the Reach not long after dawn.
“We’ll cache our field gear and packs outside the Reach before we head in,” Derek advised as the four climbed steadily up the gradual slopes. “Just take your canteens and one day’s rations. The reason we’re going uphill is because the Reach is sort of a plateau about twenty miles roughly north-south and a dozen wide at the broadest. It’s pretty heavily forested. Most people take a central approach from the river, but we’re coming in at the north tip.”
“One day’s rations?” Fred scowled. “How are we going to search an area twenty miles by twelve in one day? Other than that it used to be the Lance, we don’t know what we’re looking for. Or who hangs heads on the boundary markers.”
“I figure the Fang will lead us there,” the Ronin shrugged. “If we haven’t come up with anything by noon we can head back out and develop a new plan.”
“It is worth a shot,” Shad conceded. “I would not be surprised if the Fang can lead us straight to the Lance; the planners of this enterprise would have to know that time would be tight, and the Fang is packing some heavy mojo.”
The last half of the day was spent picking their way up a goat trail that climbed the side of the plateau like a scar. They found a patch of flat ground a hundred yards from a skull-festooned obelisk that denoted the Reach’s edge, and made camp, careful to dig their fire pit deep so that its light would not give away their position.
“So that is the Yonaguni Reach,” Shad mused, studying the scrub trees beyond the marker. “Doesn’t look like much.”
“Neither do brown recluse spiders,” Jeff observed. “I don’t think we’re taking a walk in the park, even with the Fang.”
“If it was easy they would have sent the Air Force. We’ll head in first thing.”
“What happened to taking a day off first?”
“How well would you rest next to this thing?” Shad jerked his chin to indicate the Reach.
“Pretty well,” Jeff grinned. “We’ve been in worse places.”
“No doubt. Still, there are people under the hammer up north; we’ll take the rest of today, and move tomorrow.”
“The only choice, really,” Fred grunted as he sorted through his pack.
“What do you suppose the Universe did for suckers to do the dirty work before we came along?” Jeff shook his head.
“Guys like us are a dime a dozen,” Shad absently rubbed his scar. “The thing to remember is that Human life is the cheapest commodity there is.”
“That makes no sense,” Derek pointed out.
“It doesn’t have to make sense to be true.” The warder sat down next to his pack. “Let’s eat now. I plan to be asleep well before the sun is fully down.”
Shad was dreaming about the whore ba
ck in Bloodseep when Midori walked into the room, not bothering to change her appearance.
The whore and bed vanished, and Shad found himself fully dressed and sitting in one of the threadbare green armchairs in the loft they had occupied after the failed attempt to frame Derek in Bloodseep. Midori sat in the other armchair chair opposite him.
He drew a Colt from his shoulder rig and spun the weapon. “What happens if I shoot you?”
She frowned and made a dismissive gesture. “Where are you?”
“What does your tracking device tell you?”
“You are close to the Reach-I can tell. You haven’t entered it yet.”
“I’m pretty sure that I mentioned that we don’t work for you.”
“The World Stone is in motion, and the Wind of Souls has begun,” Midori was controlling her temper with visible effort. “There is no time for your games.”
“We had to fight our way through a zombie outbreak just to get this far; you couldn’t have given us a heads-up?”
“I did not know what the Wind of Souls consisted of before you did. We need to meet.”
“So you and your crew can grab the Fang?”
She visibly composed herself. “The Lance is the key to saving this world, and the Fang is the key to the Lance. It is time to put our differences and pride aside and work together.”
Shad studied the young woman, uncomfortably aware that she was the smartest person in this dream. “You know, the four of us came back from the Prison and we survived the Realm. We took everything that was thrown at us and we kept going, which is more than I can say for a lot of those who faced us. We can handle the Reach.”
“Perhaps, but the use of the Lance is something else entirely. This is too important for you to feed your pride.”
“You’re wrong,” Shed rubbed the scar from the last fight in the Prison. “More to the point, I believe you are lying. The people who set this up made sure that the Lance could only be deployed after the World Stone was in play. I bet when we get to the Lance there will be instructions on how to use it.” Midori was shaking her head but he continued. “I think that the reason you insisted on our following certain steps was to hide the fact that you have only a very basic understanding of the entire program. I think the people who stashed the Lance did so to ensure that not only could the Death Lords not find it, but that their own descendants couldn’t use it for other purposes. And I believe they were right: you don’t want the Lance to destroy the World Stone, you want it for something else.”
“You are mad.”
“So why us? Why send us for the Fang?”
Midori stared at the warder for a long moment. “Because, as you know, the Death Lords are hunting us. They have some inkling of the real danger, and some inkling of the process. If I or other key members of my group suddenly vanished from the enemy’s awareness, they would know we had sought and secured the Fang. Likewise with any Ronin capable of the task. You, however, are invisible to them because of your nature.”
“Huh.” Shad thought about that for a moment. “OK. You could have told us that…but you couldn’t: you thought we were heroes. What do you really want the Lance for?”
To say Midori was poker-faced was an understatement; she could have been a statue. “What is it to you? Give us the Fang, and we will hand over two captured Death Lords. You can be home immediately.”
Shad scowled at the toes of his boots, thinking hard.
“You don’t mind killing Death Lords,” Midori pointed out. “This is our world. Our responsibility. You have been annoying but reliable. Go home with our gratitude.”
“Why do you want the Lance?”
“To save our world.”
“Bullshit.”
“Would you not fight for your world? Is that not why Fu Hao led you: to protect your world?”
“You are not Fu Hao.” Shad shook his head and then tossed his hands up in disgust. “That’s why you are the mouthpiece: to remind us of Fu Hao. To make it easier to get us to do your dirty work. You figured we followed a hot Asian chick into the meat grinder once, and we would do it again. But you screwed up: we followed Fu Hao. We knew, or at least were pretty sure that if we died in the transition area we would make it home, but she was putting it all on the line.” Shad pointed at the young woman. “No deal. You’re still lying to us. You want the Lance for something else.”
“Because my people couldn’t possibly care about their own world? That that nobility is reserved for men like you?” Midori sneered.
“See, you still don’t get it,” Shad grinned. “We’re not noble. We’re here to kill Cecil, and the Lance lets us get him and provide a warning to other people who want to use us as their puppets. Stopping the World Stone is just a happy side effect. No deal.”
“You will pay for cheating us.” Her voice left no doubt.
“You can try,” the warder shrugged. “Others have. But the Fang is a dead spot, and the Reach is zeroed out as well. Even if we feared you, which we don’t, we are safely out of your reach. As to the Death Lords, well, all we need is the right firepower.”
“So this foolish vendetta is all you care about?”
“Well, it is mostly Fred who wants to kill Cecil, and I can’t blame him. But Cecil had help jerking us out of our lives again, and it has been hard living and gratuitous violence ever since. Since you bastards apparently can find things out, we need to make sure that no one else gets the idea that dragging the Black Talons back into this mess is a good idea.”
“You have cost them dearly as it is; you nearly stopped their master plan in the Realm, and you hurt them when you destroyed the written works they were supposed to have received. They may well lose to the Imperial armies arrayed against them without the Lance’s employment.”
“Good, then we are in a win-win situation.”
“You must let us accompany you into the Reach.”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“Because that is a quick path to a tanto in the back. You have a different plan for the Lance, and we haven’t gone through all the crap we have just to see you guys pull a stunt.”
“You could go home immediately.”
“You could tell us the truth: what is your use for the Lance?”
Midori was back to a poker face, studying him. “I was born to this duty. All of us were. We have been hunted all our lives, seen family and friends die horribly at the hands of the minions of the Death Lords. I never was given a choice in the matter, nor was any other. Even if one leaves the service the Death Lords will seek them for their knowledge. To have children is to ensure their deaths, regardless if you warn them, regardless if you shield them from the secrets. All to keep a very simple secret.”
“You don’t know where the Lance is or how to use it, just the steps to find it under very specific circumstances,” Shad guessed.
“Yes. And now after generations of suffering and fear, our purpose is to be fulfilled.”
Shad thought fast. “But the Death Lords won’t be destroyed by the Lance, just their latest ambitions. They will seek revenge.”
“They will,” Midori coolly conceded.
“Except you won’t be around,” realization dawned upon Shad. “You are going to use the Lance to banish yourselves to another sphere, probably the Prison because that is where the dragon bone came from.”
“We have suffered enough,” Midori made a dismissive gesture. “You have disrupted the Death Lords’ plans: they march while the leaks to the Realm remain unsealed. The Empire may well defeat them.”
“They moved early because they were worried that the Fang would come into play,” Shad snapped his fingers.
“They have secured some of our knowledge,” Midori nodded. “By unspeakable means.”
“So you are going to cut and run, and you figured we would be eager to get home.”
“Are you not?”
Shad sighed. “We have walked a hard road to get here.” The image of the young muleskinner fla
shed before him. “A very hard road. But we will see the thing through to the bitter end. That is who we are.”
“Even though it may cost you your lives?”
“Honey, we put our lives on the line long before we got to the Isle. Go offer your services to the Empire, because if we fail it will be down to spells and steel.”
“You are a fool.”
“That isn’t news. But we are fools who get things done, you can take that to the bank. Now get out of my dream.”
“So they want the Lance as a getaway vehicle,” Derek mused after Shad had finished describing his encounter with Midori.
“She confirmed it.”
“Well, screw them.”
“You think they actually had two Death Lords to trade?” Fred asked without much interest.
“Nope. I think we would have gotten a blade in the back if we were dumb to take them up on the trade.”
“I haven’t spent sixty days in this dump just to tap out and go home,” Jeff spoke up from where he was lacing his boots. “And I don’t trust Midori or her people at all.”
“We’ve only invested a little over two hours in this place, real time,” Shad agreed. “And the risk is about the same either way. Might as well see it through.”
“Using the Lance ought to get us within striking distance of two Death Lords,” Derek carefully wiped down Nightwing’s blade. “We can wrap the whole business up neatly.”
“If they know it is us coming with the Lance, they will definitely throw Death Lords at us to try and invoke our runes. We go home, they get the Lance,” Fred remind them. “We will have to use discretion.”
“Shad’s discretion is still ‘mint in box’,” Jeff grinned. “Let’s get geared up and go; I’m tired of waiting.”
Their camp gear stashed, the four Texans approached the obelisk. “Why do you suppose Midori only talks to Shad?” Jeff wondered out loud.