by Hugo Huesca
They were in the outskirts of Hoia Forest, close to one of the main roads that connected Undercity with the many villages of Starevos’ countryside. The air carried the faint tinge of saltwater.
Lying with their backs against a tree were Rolim and Brondan, still unconscious.
“You carried the three of us?” Ed asked Nicolai. “How?”
Rolim by himself outweighed Nicolai by at least a hundred pounds! Ed tried, instinctively, to take a look at his stats, but the magic of his pact prevented his Evil Eye from activating.
“That,” Nicolai repeated, “is none of your concern, Edward.”
Then something happened between them. The strands of black smoke that connected the rebel and the Dungeon Lord materialized once again, tendrils floating between the two men’s chests. Nicolai scowled and broke the pact with a clear effort of will.
Ed took an instinctive step back. At some point, he had lost his sword back in the chapel. He was unarmed, but he could drone his way into a tactical retreat—
Except that he hadn’t yet recovered all his Endurance points. He was weak as a toddler, and could probably manage to run about as fast as one.
“Lucky you,” Nicolai said. His face was a cloud of hate and murderous intent, but his body remained still. “Seems like I can’t attack you so soon after ending our pact.”
“You should have left me to the wraith, then,” Ed said.
“Sadly, the same pact that forced you to help me out on those steps forced me to carry you out of the chapel,” Nicolai explained. “I think I speak for the both of us when I say I hope never to be in such a position again.”
“Agreed,” Ed said. He still couldn’t see the man’s stats. It made sense that the pact’s conditions lingered for a while after breaking it, but it wasn’t something that Ed had expected. “What now?”
Rolim was already rousing, and Ed was painfully aware that Rolim hadn’t pacted with him.
“Just answer me one last question and we’ll be on our way,” Nicolai said. “How many experience points did she earn you?”
“What?”
“Lyndis,” said Nicolai in a tone that would’ve curdled milk.
“Don’t answer that, Ed,” Katalyn said.
“She wasn’t a warrior,” Nicolai went on. “She’d barely managed to earn two hundred points, most of those acquired through her association with me. Her worth to the cause was in her mind—without her skills with money, we would’ve spent many nights underfed and under-armed. But the Objectivity doesn’t care about that, does it? No, the only worth that our magical laws care about is how many living creatures we’ve murdered in cold blood.”
It was self-defense. She was about to kill me. Hell, it was almost an accident—it happened so fast…
Even Objectivity seemed to agree with him, because it had only granted him a tenth of Lyndis’ total—
He realized that that wouldn’t exactly make things better with Nicolai.
And what do I care? They are fucking Ivalian terrorists… But Nicolai had loved that woman, and Ed had torn her away from him.
“Let’s see,” Nicolai went on, speaking in a very soft voice, almost to himself. “A single spell, at a distance… Was it thirty points?”
“Ed…” Katalyn warned.
“Say it, Edward!” Nicolai said. “Was she worth at least thirty points to you?”
“Twenty,” said Ed at last.
Nicolai reeled, like Ed had punched him in the mouth. Then he nodded, and kept nodding, while his fingers twitched and danced, like they were already pressing on Ed’s neck.
Ed was suddenly grateful that he couldn’t read minds.
“Let’s go, Ed,” Katalyn said, gesturing toward Rolim, who was now coming to.
It was a reasonable suggestion.
“You have nothing to fear from him, nor from me,” Nicolai said. “Not tonight. Twenty, then. Very well. Go, Dungeon Lord, go hide in whatever nest you’ve made for yourself. Know that one day I’ll come for you, and as you’ve taken from me, I shall take from you. Twenty of your loved ones will be enough to make you at least fathom the pain you’ve inflicted on me. Their deaths are now on your conscience, Edward. Go, look them in the eyes, and know that I’ll tear their hearts out in front of you, after making them understand that it was all your fault.”
The human soul worked in interesting ways. For example, it could go from gut-wrenching guilt into murderous rage in a couple instants, and all it took was one asshole threatening every person a man cared about.
“Make it forty, then,” Ed told the rebel, with a voice as cold as his heart felt. “Because I also killed your friend, Ioan of Burrova. Make it a hundred, for all I care. You’ll die long before you can make good on your threats.”
“You young, stupid fool,” Nicolai said. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
Something stirred deep under the man’s skin for the faintest instant, fast enough to make Ed doubt his eyes. It didn’t matter. Lyndis’ death had been an accident, but Nicolai’s wouldn’t be.
“But you do know what you are dealing with, don’t you?” Ed asked. “When you were a boy and your mother taught you of the evils of the world, did she tell you to watch out for cowardly men hiding in catacombs or”—Ed’s Evil Eye drowned the forest in a light so intense the leaves around his feet appeared as if on fire—“did she teach you to fear me?”
8
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE QUEEN AND THE CACKLE
Hoia Forest was silent, and not the predatory kind of silence that foretold something big and horned preparing to jump on your back, but the beatific kind.
Most likely, the forest’s creatures had been caught between a lull where the night predators thought it was time to rest already, and the day predators thought they still had a few minutes left of sleep.
“So,” Ed said slowly, knowing very well he was drifting into thorny territory. “Nicolai said that Torst started a war.”
Katalyn pushed a branch away from her face. “Back when I was but a little girl playing with my first lockpick, Torst was an ambitious Thief. More ambition than talent, I’d say, and he was getting old. Whatever loot he had stolen during his youth he’d spent it on whores and booze, and near the time when he ought to have retired, he found himself more and more desperate. He strayed away from the Guild, began to run with some pretty nasty fellows—Akathunians—who killed people for money. Assassins, you know the sort.” Katalyn gave Ed a dark look to show him what she thought of the Akathunians and Torst.
Ed showed her his open palms as if to prove to her he wasn’t hiding an Akathunian.
“Father always had a spot for violence, but he had no real talent for it. He screwed up his second contract. The Akathunians rejected him, and the Watch was on his tail. Torst realized he was screwed. The penalty for attempted murder is death, obviously. The coward couldn’t lie in the bed he had made. He performed a Dark ritual, and for some damn reason, the Dark answered. They made a pact. If Torst killed a couple Heiligian nobles who were visiting Constantina, plus Duke Fynnal of Galtia himself—his kid’s running the city nowadays—then the Dark would allow him to live forever. It even infused Torst with enough Dark power for him to bypass the Duke’s guards, and half the Watch. It was a slaughter. But even then, Torst was incompetent. The small Militant Church detachment guarding the nobles got him in the end—he died right after killing the last noble, before the Dark could make good on the pact. Wasn’t the Dark’s fault, oh no. My father died just like he lived, and good riddance.” Katalyn shrugged again.
“Shit,” Ed said. He had expected a grim tale, but not something like this. “What happened to you after that?”
“That’s the best part,” Katalyn said, with a small smile that told Ed she wasn’t being sarcastic. “Without that asshole around, the Guild adopted me. Taught me an honest profession—that of a Locksmith. Then, when I proved my skill, they trained me as a Thief! Turns out, unlike Torst, I’m actually good at it.” She cro
ssed her arms proudly.
“I see…”
“In any case, that came later. As it turned out, those nobles had been ambassadors from Heiliges, one of them one of the youngest sons of King Ambrose—he was a King at the time, you know. Ambrose and the Church blamed the murders on Starevosian assassins, despite Duke Fynnal dying, too, and the countries went to war. It lasted five years,” Katalyn said. “Heiliges had the Militant Church, and Alita’s favor… and a better army and supply lines, and our generals were drunk assholes who had never fought a war in their lives. So, here we are,” Katalyn said, gesturing in Undercity’s direction. “Heiliges conquered Starevos and a few other small provinces, and now it’s the Heiligian Empire, or whatever the hell they’re calling themselves today. Now, you may be thinking, ‘Dunghill, what a terrible life this poor gal has had,’ ” she said, doing her best impression of Ed’s voice. “Well, don’t! It may be a shitty time to be a Starevosian nobleman, but—” she flashed him a confident grin “—it’s a great time to be a Thief!”
KATALYN ACCOMPANIED ED until they reached a fork in the trail. South would lead to his dungeon, and northwest would bring her to Undercity’s walls.
“Sorry,” Katalyn told him, breaking the tired silence, “for getting you involved in my family drama.”
“I think I was already caught up before we met,” Ed told her, thinking of Kharon. “Thank you for sharing it with me. You sure you want to return to the city? You’re welcome at the dungeon, and it may be safer than Constantina, with Nicolai around searching for you.”
“That’s the first time I got invited to that kind of dungeon.” Katalyn laughed tiredly, then she shook her head. “No offense, but I’d rather avoid Dungeon Lord lairs. It’s a reputation hard to get rid of, that one, once word spreads around. Besides, Brondan and I still need to have words.”
She said “words” with the emphasis one may have used to say, “a stabbing.”
“No offense taken,” said Ed.
Now that daylight was fast approaching, the forest began to wake up. It’d soon be dangerous for them to stay out in the open, tired and spell-less.
From the corner of his eye, Ed saw movement in the nearby branches. He did some quick mental math. The catacomb’s exit had brought them to Undercity’s outskirts. He couldn’t bypass the magical detection system installed in the walls of the city, whose function was to find Dark spawns such as a Dungeon Lord.
But he could still keep an eye on the comings and goings of the place, and a couple days ago, he had asked Laurel to do that very same thing. He inspected the branches and caught sight of a tiny black horn, then the beady eyes of a spiderling.
Is it mine? Ed thought. Or from one of those other clusters?
In any case, he winked at it. The creature scurried away into the forest.
“So,” said Katalyn, “what a day, right? The good news is, wraiths can’t move in the daylight, so we’re pretty safe. The bad news is, I think I’ve gone a bit insane. For example, I could swear I just saw you wink at a spiderling.”
“It’s okay, I’m friends with her mother.”
“Ah… alright, then.”
More silence. Both were unwilling to bridge the topic that still held them together: their job wasn’t done, and they both knew it. They may have left the catacombs, but Nicolai was still out there, and so was Torst.
Ed’s dungeon, which housed everyone he cared about in Ivalis, was well hidden. But that could change, and he was aware that Divination magic was a thing, and that Nicolai knew his name and appearance.
“Do you think you can take him?” asked Katalyn, suddenly serious. It was clear who she meant.
“Maybe,” said Ed. He considered it more carefully. “Yes. But my friends and I will need time to prepare. How about you? Your fa—the wraith said it needed you to achieve its full power.”
Katalyn nodded. “Undercity’s walls are enchanted, like any other city’s. Torst isn’t getting in that way, and I’m not getting out. The wraith’s only chance would be with help from the inside, which is why I’ll keep an eye on Brondan. If he’s helping Nicolai and his group, maybe we can reach them through him. Brondan may be good at keeping his head down, but I’m better at finding that which doesn’t want to be found—and then looting it.”
“Thanks,” said Ed. For all his resources as a Dungeon Lord, he had no way of bringing eyes into the city. For the moment. As they spoke, he was already knitting a plan to solve that issue.
“If you come to the city, ask the beggars near the Galleon’s Folly for me. Give them a cent or two and stay the night in the inn—I’ll find you. The Folly is near the port. Ask around and you’ll find it.”
“Galleon’s Folly. Got it,” said Ed. “Good hunting, Katalyn.”
They shook hands, and each went their separate way.
Your Untrained Combat skill has increased by 2 ranks. Your Combat Casting skill has increased by 1 rank.
BEFORE HEADING DEEPER into the forest, Ed stopped by a hill that afforded him a marginal view of Undercity’s walls. Unlike Burrova’s palisade, which had been built out of wood and good intentions, Undercity was defended by looming towers of stone engraved with runes, and enchanted so much that the surrounding air shimmered like a desert illusion.
Ed nodded to himself and scanned the surrounding terrain. He didn’t like what he saw. Whatever Nicolai was planning for Undercity, Ed hoped it’d take him at least a couple weeks, because otherwise Katalyn would be on her own.
The idea of letting someone else solo his Boss made Ed frown. He created five drones and positioned them in a line. They stood at attention in front of him, their purple-and-pink robes swaying in the morning breeze. The lasershark that was their emblem glinted maliciously in Ed’s direction.
“Welcome, Infiltration Team Alpha,” Ed declared. It was fitting that drones who performed vital tasks had a designation of their own; it’d help him differentiate them quickly if he had to re-summon them.
Also, it sounded cool.
The drones stood even harder at attention.
“All the drones serve the Haunt in their own way,” Ed told them, with a surge of satisfaction in his battered chest as he spoke. “But your task is especially important. Do it to the best of your abilities and make all drone-kind proud. Here are your instructions…”
Five minutes later, with IT Alpha out of view, Ed was following a new drone toward his dungeon—the Haunt. He set a brisk pace because he wasn’t sure how long the after-effects of the pact between him and Nicolai would last.
Every single muscle in his body hurt, and he had only slept for a couple hours before Kharon had whisked him away. Half of him wanted little else than to go to sleep, and the other half could barely contain his impulse to activate his Evil Eye and begin work on his dungeon’s designs.
Because of his state of unrest, he didn’t notice the giant spider that waited for him over by a tree stump, her moist exoskeleton covered by a patina of mildew.
Ed decided that later, when relaying this part of his adventure to Alder, he’d omit the way he had jumped when he caught sight of the arachnid.
“Lord Wraith,” said the spider. The mention of Ed’s nickname raked his nerves and gave him goosebumps, now that he had seen the real thing. “You look unsavory this morning. What are you doing unarmed in the middle of the forest? My sisters had to chase away a horned bear that caught your scent.”
The thing with the spiders was, Ed wasn’t sure if this one was joking or if Hoia Forest really had such a thing as a horned bear. Given that the “horned” descriptor also implied “and very fucking big,” Ed shuddered at the thought of a gigantic grizzly bear lurking nearby.
“It was a tough night,” Ed told the spider. Then he strained his memory in search for her name.
To try to remember the name of every spider in Laurel’s cluster would’ve been an insane task, but Ed had made an effort to at least get the princesses and most warriors right. Back on Earth, before he ended up working at Lasersh
ark, he had worked under a manager who’d thought for about half a year that Ed’s name was “hey, you.” At first, Ed had found it funny, but it became old fast because he realized that the manager didn’t consider him real enough to bother learning his name.
She’s a princess, right? She was the size of a normal spider warrior, but that wasn’t a hard rule. Some princesses didn’t fight, staying instead to guard the nests, performing the functions of a housekeeper. Because of… well, because of Ed and his friends, Laurel’s cluster was a bit short on fighting forces, so it made sense that she’d order the housekeepers to bolster her warriors for a while.
This princess in particular had an asterisk-shaped scar on the right side of her thorax. An asterisk looked like a star, and a star could look like a flower…
“Princess Tulip,” Ed said as soon as her name came back to him. “Thank you for coming to escort me.”
The horned spider made a curtsy with her hind legs. “My pleasure. But Lord Wraith, I also carry Queen Laurel’s request for an audience. She has instructed me to bring you to her immediately, should you agree. It was a matter most urgent, and in fact, some of my spiderlings are probably still looking for you in the Haunt.”
Ed could almost hear his bed calling to him. “Did she say why she wanted to see me?”
“The Queen said it was a matter most urgent, my Lord. A diplomatic issue, which requires the presence of both rulers.”
Ed ignored the part of him that wanted to whine about lost sleep. If Laurel was already up and overseeing “diplomatic issues,” then she hadn’t rested much either. He made a quick mental note about finding out if Ivalis had coffee. If not, he’d have to invent it.
“Then let’s go to her at once, Princess Tulip.”
HALF AN HOUR LATER, Ed met with Queen Laurel. She waited for him, standing atop a stream that rose slightly above Ed’s head. Judging from the shine in her thorax, she had been bathing.
“Dungeon Lord Wraith,” Laurel greeted him as he and Tulip approached. “We meet again.”