by Stone Thomas
“That’s great news,” I said. “We’ll have new weapons for the fight!”
“If Vix can get them working properly before the full moon rises four nights from now,” she said. “When Duul and Kāya attack, the cover of night will let them parade the lumentors in, cannons or no cannons.”
“We should take out the lumentors first then,” I said. “Mercifer will have slime pets ready to go. The more ghosts we trap, the better off we’ll be.”
“And you managed to make it back here without any markings on your neck,” she said. “How did you pull that off?”
“It was Reyna,” I said. “She was angry at me, but I talked her down. I offered to keep working on saving Valona. Will it make a difference?”
“It’s not just the mark that matters,” she said. “You left hell on Valona’s good side. That may not have happened if Reyna tagged you. Your trip to the world of folding stillness could have gone much differently. What you did changed something but only time will tell what.
“We’ve had no progress on getting shrines working though,” she continued. “If that’s what Valona’s waiting for, we can’t count on her help when Duul and Kāya get here.”
“We’ll do our best with what we have,” I said. “Our electric energem is still powering up the defensive walls. We have a fresh pile of raw energems waiting to be filled, and we’re stronger than ever.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“For taking me seriously and convincing Reyna to change something leading up to our fight with Duul. I’m not thrilled that your trips to the underworld left those dark rings under your eyes, but at least now I have a little more hope that we’ll all pull through this.”
“Quiet now,” Savange hissed. “We both know it was my power that seeped below your sight, not some remnant of your netherworldly travels, but the golden goddess cannot know about our bond. Your safety hinges on it.”
I really hated having a side chick.
“I did manage to piece together one thing,” Nola said. “Sometimes the future is in flux, and it can be hard to pin down a premonition. I had a glimpse of our fight with Duul, from my perspective this time. It looks like the Great Mother will get her way after all.”
“Meaning?” I asked.
“When Kāya and I face off, it’s Kāya that dies. I walk away.”
“The sleep dust!” I yelled.
Nola dug her fingers into the corners of her eyes. “It wasn’t even a long nap.”
“No, from Hipna,” I said, pulling the small pouch from my pocket. “You could send Kāya into a century-long sleep instead of killing her.”
“So your trip to Mournglory was a greater success than I thought,” she said. “This is just what I needed, a way to stop Kāya without hurting her!”
“I’m gonna walk away on a high note,” I said. “And let you get to your fealty pledges. You’ll need all the souls you can get.”
Yurip and I headed to the top of the hill. A plume of lilac smoke erupted near the city’s center as another cannon blasted. A cannonball sailed high in the air, then arced downward, thudding against the dirt with a dull thwomp.
“Some say that’s the sound of Halcyon obliterating everyone’s livelihoods,” Gruppin said. He walked toward me with a crowd of people behind him.
“You look perplexed,” he said. “Leadership is too complicated for some people, I know. Come, I’ll show you what Halcyon is really like.”
Yurip and I exchanged glances. I followed the former mayor, despite a nagging feeling that this was a bad idea. We passed the rows of homes Vix had added to the residential district, and then a series of vacant shops along the commercial corridor. After we passed a few unfinished buildings toward the end, the hill opened onto a flat grassy area with dozens of tables set up.
“These are the market stalls,” I said. “People are trading their wares.”
“Are they?” Gruppin asked. “All yesterday that woman there, a tailor, tried to trade for a kettle. The kettle owner didn’t want clothes, she wanted paint. The paint maker wanted a potion. The brewer wanted a new necklace. The whole transaction fell apart in the end because a pet groomer in need of a new brush didn’t want the only brush being offered. The market stalls alright, to use your words.”
“How are you going to fix this?” someone yelled out.
“Me?” Gruppin asked. “As Mayor, I would open a trade route with several nearby cities. There isn’t enough coin in Halcyon for the economy to flow, so it has broken down into bartering. We should welcome customers from afar to leave their coin with us.”
“No one is traveling now,” I said. “Duul’s army has a presence everywhere. Opening a road won’t bring people here.”
“Then we’ll build a merchant caravan,” Gruppin said. “A series of caravan carts appeared in the city just this morning. I’ll repurpose them.”
“I worked hard to bring those carts here, and right now they’re in use,” I said.
“Standing in the way of progress,” Gruppin said. “Tsk, tsk. You see fit to gild the temple’s doors while your people’s pockets remain empty.”
I turned toward Yurip and asked, in a low voice, “Where did all of that gold come from, anyway?”
“The currency we mint is backed by the gold we set aside,” Yurip replied. “We can’t ship it off to the empire right now, so the smith melted it into gold bars. Vix convinced me that the safest place to store them was in plain sight, so she fashioned the temple door from them.”
“What about the farmers?” someone yelled. “They control the flow of food!”
“The farmers have provided food to the chow house,” I said. “And the chow house provides free meals. Roda is a saint for all the hard work she’s doing there.”
“There’s a line out the door!” someone said. “Too many people lining up for handouts while us bakers and confectioners have nothing to do.”
“Halcyon is young,” I said. “We’ve been mining, minting, and working on solutions to these problems, all while providing for the city’s defense. In the last week, I’ve traveled in search of allies. The gypsies of Barren Moon. The elves of Mournglory. The ruler of heaven and hell. What has Gruppin done? Wander a village he didn’t help build and criticize it. Leadership is work, not words.
“I’m not asking you to take up arms. I’m just asking for a little patience while we get through this next attack. Vote for Gruppin if you think Valleyvale is a shining example of how to lead a city through this war. I don’t. But know this: I’m not going anywhere. I’m still the head priest of Nola’s temple, and I’m still going to work my ass off to protect you all.”
Someone clapped. Then a second person. Gruppin threw his hands in the air and walked away. Did I just shut down my first political opponent? I won a political debate! That makes me a master… word talker. Cool!
Another boom drew my attention back toward the hill’s center. I turned to run but knocked into Greggin. He had a notebook and a quill in his hands.
“Are you following me?” I asked.
“Ha, after wearing those sneak socks for days, I keep forgetting people can see me,” he said. “Just taking notes on the daily operations of a nascent village and a neophyte goddess. Don’t mind me.”
“You’re a strange little guy,” I said.
He shrugged. “I’m a student. I can’t help it.”
“Arden!” Lily called out. “Tell him we can’t reanimate Jorgo’s bones.”
Another side quest. Lily sat on a long rectangular box that was covered in a white sheet. Her slim eyebrows furrowed toward the center of her pale, freckled face. Mercifer stood next to her with his yellow arms crossed tight.
“I’m getting bored of making slime pets,” he said. “I’ve got about eighty slime mice running around the residence your builder assigned me and I thought I’d take a bone break.”
“A bone break?” I asked.
“You have a perfectly preserved cadaver here,” he said. “Just let
me enliven the bones. Once the meat parts slough off there will still be plenty to bury.”
I peeked beneath the white sheet. “Lily! I thought this was a casket. It’s just a block of ice. You froze Jorgo solid!”
“What else could I do?” she asked. “You’re the one that has to bury him and you’ve been busy.”
“Why me?” I asked.
“You’re the head priest around here,” she said. “Eulogies and burials are part of your job description.”
I pulled the curtain off Jorgo. His body was somewhere between blue and gray. “What can I say about Jorgo? His time with us was brief, but memorable. Once, when I was feeling very cold, he lent me a blanket. Sure, he was dead by then, and the blanket was soaked with sweat, but it just proves that his generosity extended well past his life. The end.”
“Eh,” Mercifer said. “Some skills take time to develop.”
I sighed. “How’s Cindra holding up?”
“The new slime I added is sinking into her body now and making her stronger, more resistant to the elements,” he said. “It will take time though. She needs rest.”
“Will the fix be permanent?” I asked.
“If it is, what then?” he asked. “Back to the fairyfly farm with me?”
“There’s no fairyfly farm anymore,” I said. “I thought you’d want to stay here.”
His jaw dropped. “I’m a criminal. And an elf.”
“Your only crime was giving that amazing woman a body worthy of her radiant soul,” I said. “And as for elves, we get along fine.”
“It’s true!” Greggin said, poking out from behind me. “Arden and I go way back.”
“I just need you to leave Jorgo’s bones inside his body,” I said. “Can you do that?”
“Sure,” he said. “But I’m going to need a bone or two at some point. I don’t want to get rusty.”
“Just not here,” I said. “As long as you’re in Halcyon, no bones.”
Desecration of Jorgo’s body: avoided.
Another blast rocked our hill. This place was becoming a real boom town. I headed further toward the center of our hill, but a short woman with dark green skin and raggedy clothing raced toward me.
“Master Arden!” Mayblin yelled. Her yellow teeth were on full display as she smiled. “I’m so happy you brought me a blue one! The yellow one was a little cranky and definitely too old for me. This one is just my size, and handsome! Scrawny, but hey, goblins can’t be choosers.”
“He can hear you,” I said.
“Yes, another fine feature,” she said. “Look at those ears! You know what they say about men with long ears. Plenty of earwax. Goblins love to dig!”
Greggin took a half-step forward. “I’m Greggin, with three G’s, and I think you’ve gotten the wrong idea.”
“Mayblin,” she replied, “with one blin. What would our children look like, half and half? Do gobelflins like to dig too? I have so many questions.”
“I’ll let you two get acquainted,” I said.
“But Arden,” Greggin called out. “Arden!”
A haze of light purple smoke hung over the center of the hill as I jogged toward the clearing Vix used as a workspace.
The central meeting ground wasn’t a patch of dirt anymore, it was a long rectangle of grass surrounded by a short brick wall. A three-story tower sat at one end with a small blue cannon on top and a mound of blue cannonballs at the bottom. The same was set up on the other side, but red. Vix was at the top of the blue cannon tower scratching her head.
“Vix,” I yelled. “What are you doing up there?”
“Trying to remember which settings got closest,” she said, her ears drooping forward.
“To what?”
“To hitting the targets.” She pointed to a handful of round plywood targets, each with a red or blue bullseye painted on them.
“You shouldn’t be up there,” I said. “Isn’t there someone to help you?”
“I tried making a game of it,” she said, “but even that didn’t get people interested.” She started climbing down a long ladder, though her massive belly made that a challenge. I stood at the tower’s base, prepared to break her fall with my body, but she used her long fox tail to keep her balance just fine.
“Here’s what I have so far,” she said, spreading her words out with each step. “The game is called ‘cannonball,’ and each team gets a cannon. The goal is to knock down the other team’s targets first.”
“Vix,” I said. “With all the crazy ideas you usually have, I’m surprised it’s not more complicated.”
She stepped off the ladder and took my hand. “Feel this.” The second my hand touched her stomach, something kicked. Then something kicked again. And again.
“They’re kicking!” I said. “They’re really in there. This is so exciting.”
“It was exciting the first kick,” she said. “And maybe the second. By the thousandth time, the novelty was all gone. I don’t have the energy for big crazy ideas. I don’t even have the energy for mating, and you know how much I love that.”
“Wow,” I said. “You really are exhausted. So how do these work?”
“There are three levers that maneuver the cannon,” she said. “Up-down, left-right, and rotational. The towers are mobile too. I put casters underneath.”
“Like mages?” I asked. “Oh gods, get them out of there, this tower looks heavy!”
Vix shook her head. “It’s a type of wheel that swivels, so you can wheel these towers around. You just need someone to lock the wheels after each move. The anibomb energem inside each cannon charges up at regular intervals, but the counterforce is enough to knock the tower back if the wheels aren’t secured.
“That, I’ve figured out. Aiming? Not so much. There are too many variables to master in time for Duul’s attack. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I said. I pulled her against my body and kissed her forehead. “I may have an idea for a game people will flock to, and it will give us plenty of practice with these cannons so we can work out the aiming mechanics. I started working on this idea back when I had a bunch of boons swirling around in my head, but the final pieces didn’t fall into place until I saw what our brewer’s potions were really capable of.
“In fact, here she comes now. Rinka! Over here!”
The town brewer strode toward us with a crate of glass bottles filled with a white liquid swirled with black. “Can I have the whole crate?” I asked. “If things go the way I hope they will, this will be the most highly sought-after potion in all of Halcyon by this time tomorrow. This marbleskin potion is amazing.”
She rolled her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“You called it marbelous,” she said.
“No I didn’t.”
“Oh. I just expected you to say something like that. You know, an Arden joke. But yes, you can have them. It’ll take time to make more, but if people want it badly enough it shouldn’t be hard to source more marble dust.”
“Everyone!” I yelled. “Halcyon has a new game in town. Cannonball. The rules are simple: maneuver your team’s cannon and destroy the other team’s targets before they destroy yours. Each team has a ground target, a mid-height target, and a max-height target to defend.
“The field is what, a hundred yards?” I continued. “The first ten yards belong to your team. The other team can’t enter. That means no destroying the other team’s tower. It also means you can push your cannon to the ten yard line if you want.
“Destroy a target, you gain ten yards. Now your safe zone is up to the twenty yard line, and you can push your tower further. You get another ten yards when you destroy the second target.
“Each team has five players,” I continued. “Do you send a whole team to maneuver the cannon, or just one person? Do you devote players to pushing the tower, or not? That depends, because here’s the catch: each player is allowed one weapon and free reign of their combat and special skills. Players will attack each othe
r. They will also defend their targets.
“So how do you keep from dying mid-game? Here’s the last rule. Everyone drinks a marbleskin potion before they take the field. It reduces damage taken to zero, but wears off once you’ve absorbed enough hits. When your marbleskin is gone, you’re out. If your whole team is out, you lose.
“You can only drink it once per week, so there’s a limit to how often you can play. However, once you get a taste for it, you can sign up for cannon practice sessions between matches.
“How does that sound?”
“I’d play,” one man yelled, more to the folks across the field than to me. “My mates here will wipe the smug grins off those Valleyfail jerks before the match is even over.”
“You’re on, Meadhead,” a woman yelled back.
“Everyone cool it,” I yelled. “This is about learning how to use the cannon towers, not antagonizing each other.”
“Don’t underestimate us,” another man said. “We can do both.”
The two factions started a yelling match, hopping over the low brick wall that surrounded the cannonball field and heading toward the middle with weapons in hand. Their eyes started to glow with active skills.
Vix leaned in close. “I think you’ve started a civil war.”
+57
I ran toward the center of the field. “Let’s talk about this,” I yelled. “You can’t play when you’re bloodthirsty, that’s a new rule. Also, vote for Arden!”
Men and women marched toward each other, with me between them. I was the only one unarmed.
Everyone stopped short when a tall, silver-skinned man appeared in the middle of our new field with five men behind him. They all glowed for a moment as the silvery time magic that brought them here wore off.
Is that who I think it is?, Nola asked.
I don’t know what you think, I said. You’re the one that can read minds, remember? Unless… will I get to read your mind one day? Is that a godly power that will spill over like your literary one?
You want my thoughts?, she asked. You can’t handle my thoughts! Besides, there would be psychic feedback if it worked both ways. You’d suffer a constant high-pitched whining sound.