The thing's nasal socket snorted from under his helmet.
"You think the living are the only ones that need a place to go? And you think the dead do not get even hungrier than your kind?"
I turned to look at Breena, Karim, Weylin and Eadric. They all shook their heads, looking just as shocked as I did.
That was hardly fair. I had known there was such a thing as magic for all of a few months now. They had no excuse.
"Fine," I said. "You're a walking, talking skeleton that's also a security contractor, because you have bills to pay. Help me understand this. How are you even getting paid? Does someone also send you a check or some souls every month?"
The creature shook his head.
"That's confidential," he said. "And frankly very rude. I don't ask you about your income."
"Alright, I'm out," I said. "I'm not talking with this asshole. One of you get up here. Be sure and get him to say something that makes my head stop hurting.
"Not it!" Weylin said brightly.
"Nope," Eadric added as he shook his head. "Not part of my contract either."
"Someone was talking?" Karim hummed. "I was distracted. Explain everything again so that I know where to jump in."
I glared at every one of them.
"Fuck. You. Guys," I spat. "I swear you're all like every asshole I've gamed with, all rolled into three people." I turned my head, full of regret, but out of options. "Breena," I said sweetly. "You're the most knowledgeable and smartest of us all. And best-looking by far." She beamed at that. "Would you be a dear and talk to this thing for a bit, in case there's somehow a better option than us all murdering each other?"
"Doubtful," Legionnaire Windbones offered. "But I appreciate your taking the time to be professional about this. He's actually not that bad," the skeleton added as he fixed his sockets on Breena.
"I know," the little fairy chittered. "He's sooo much of a hassle every now and then, but most of the time he's really sweet and nice!"
I sighed.
"Even when he's grumpy!" The pink sprite flew forward in front of me. "So! Why are you dead? And on our territory?"
"Technically, my company was here first," Mr. Skelly countered.
"Per-haps!" my friend enunciated. "But you haven't been making any use of the real estate, whereas the three former leaders—myself, and two other women you may or may not know—have been providing daily maintenance on this entire planet. Possession is nine-tenths of the law. Even he knows that—" she pointed to me—"And we've clearly been in possession of over nine-tenths of this place. That means," my little friend continued, "you only have a tenth of a tenth of a leg to stand on in this argument. Frankly, I'd say your contract requires you to pack up and go home at this point."
"Damn," Sergeant Skull hissed. "That's the best argument I've heard in thousands of years. Your human should let you talk more."
"Done," I said in a cranky voice. "By my authority as Lord of Avalon, Breena of the Fair Folk is assigned to the Bureau of Public Relations."
"Yay!" My little fairy pumped her tiny fists. "Wait! My official title. What is it?"
"Regional, National and Global Mascot," I informed her.
"That doesn't sound like I'm in charge," the fairy muttered.
"No, but this is literally the only title that guarantees your right to wear costumes."
"OH! MY! GOSH!" she suddenly squealed. "WES, I LOVE YOU!"
"Your affection is mutual," I assured her. "Now see if you can get some more answers out of the gentleman." I looked back at him. "Did she actually convince you to stand and surrender, or are you just stalling to get your men into position? Because if you're stalling then I'm probably just going to blow you up here and now and deal with the consequences afterwards."
"That's actually true," the fairy confided. "He's actually super-cranky right now. I'm surprised he's choosing to talk this out at all."
"Me too," Eadric muttered. And the rest of the god-damn peanut gallery chimed in behind him.
"Especially since he hasn't had a real meal in like days,” Breena continued chatting. “Years even, by some calendars. And he thinks you're torturing little ghost-people."
The armored skeleton sighed.
"The contract prohibits me from disclosing most of my company's goals. And my job isn't to torture anyone. It's to hold this territory, prevent unrest between the locals and the rest of the staff, and to prevent foreign interference."
"What do you do with the ghosts?" Breena queried. "And I'm not sure your contract holds up to legal scrutiny. But answer my first question."
"I don't do anything with the ghosts personally," the ancient soldier answered. "I just make them hold position, keep my charges from eating them, and make sure something else picks them up for processing."
"Processing?" I asked. "Are you trying to make this place sound like some kind of unholy bureaucratic necropolis? Because right now it sounds like some kind of unholy bureaucratic necropolis."
"I can neither confirm nor deny that," the skeleton muttered. "But my contract doesn't require me to torture and eat the natives. So I don't."
"So you're saying you don't need to eat other life-forms to live," I clarified. The bronze helmet nodded.
"Hostiles still approaching," Avalon said in my mind. "ETA for closest group is two minutes. Further nearby group detected. Ten non-lifeforms are holding near our position."
That knowledge snapped the situation clear into my mind.
"You're not stalling us," I said quietly. "You got here too soon. Otherwise you would have had a much better chance of setting an ambush for us. And the men, or whatever they are, with you, aren't moving into a better position to attack us. Why did you get here before the rest of the other troops?"
The bone-man didn't answer me.
"You said I was in breach of contract," he said to the fairy next to me. "Explain."
"I already did," Breena replied. "You're tasked to hold this planet. But three people literally have had the run of the place long since. The only location your troops have had control over is a single city, and I don't believe for a minute that your war's original objective wasn't to hold the entire world. There's just too much lost technology here."
"True," the old soldier nodded. "But our contract never required us to go up against beings on a Starsown's level."
"Stell was a Starsown, but her Satellite Guineve was based on an Avalonian body," Breena argued. "She knew because she found Avalonian genetic material. She came here once as well. But you avoided action with her."
"The company decided we couldn't combat a Starsown-augmented Avalonian," Sergeant Skull mumbled. "That wasn't my call."
"That doesn't change the fact that your outfit violated contract," Breena replied. "I should know. As a bound sprite, I'm under all kinds of contracts myself."
"Really?" I asked.
"Yes, Wes." The fairy rolled her eyes. "Don't worry about it. They all involve working with Challengers, not breaking my commitments as a Satellite—basically everything I have to do normally anyway. This is so I can link with Challengers."
"Huh," I said. "Anyway, she has a point. And if she didn't, you'd have already attacked us. So you're not the typical undead ghoul I can just smash apart with a clear conscience. Especially since you're displaying signs of a conscience yourself." I took a step forward. "Do you want to get out of fighting us? This is your chance. Right now. I can't just sit here and let us talk to you all day. I have other people that need my help. And I'm beholden to them. And this world now. You realize this world recognizes me as the current leader. That should mean you've lost territory, too."
"Wait," the soldier snapped his head back toward me. "What?"
"I said I can speak directly to the planet itself," I continued. "That's how I know your backup's late. Avalon, state my rank and title to the being in front of me."
"Command confirmed," Avalon boomed out, and the shield-bearing skeleton leaped backwards. "The being before you is known as the Chal
lenger Wes Malcolm, acting and nascent Lord of Avalon. The planet and all working systems answer to his commands." The monster's—if I could still call him that—voice had slowly deepened, and become more personable the longer he talked to me. He flickered slightly now, as if an expression was somehow passing over his muscle-less face.
"I..." He hesitated.
"Virtus!" another voice rasped from deeper within the ruins.
Right. Avalon had said we only had about two minutes. Those were probably up by now.
Virtus turned, but he did not immediately respond to the voice.
"Virtus!" the voice rasped again. "Report!"
Still, the undead soldier did not respond to the call. He looked back at me, then scooted over to the right. Another figure walked out from the dead trees and buildings, taking long strides.
He, as I was assuming masculinity from the voice, was wearing much heavier armor than Virtus was wearing. His breastplate looked to be in better condition, and it featured shoulder guards in addition to the wrist and shin protectors. I wondered if that made it a more fantasy version of my own world's bronze armor, but now probably wasn't the time to speculate. A much longer sword, nearly as long as my own ruined blade, though still made of bronze, rested in an ornate scabbard. A thick red cloak was clasped around the flesh-less thing's neck, and his head was decorated with an elaborate centurion's helmet with a large horsehair plume.
"Virtus, what is the meaning of this!" the creature snapped. "Why aren't you..." He trailed off as his skull swerved to examine the five of us.
"Flesh-men," the creature spat. "Here again, on Avalon."
"Hello to you too," I said cheerfully. "We're your new neighbors. We were wondering if we could borrow a cup of sugar."
"What?" The creature cocked his bony head. "Why would you—"
"It's for a cake," I explained. "It's my first time baking, and I think I wrote the recipe down wrong when I went shopping. The point is, I've got maybe six or seven hours to find a way to feed a whole bunch of people, and I was wondering if one of you could maybe help?"
I heard groans behind me. I felt avenged.
"Virtus, what is the meaning of this?" Mortis the Middle-Manager skeleton snapped. "Where did this flesh-man come from? And why is he still talking?"
"He is apparently," the other soldier said slowly, "the new Lord of Avalon."
"That's impossible! Their ruling class is dead! Even the Starsown couldn't qualify as a ruler!"
"The planet thinks he can, apparently," the one called Virtus replied. "Our contract was to hold this place until a new Lord rose up. Our work is finished."
"Coward," the more richly dressed skeleton rasped. "That was to make this a permanent assignment! You keep on complaining about wanting to go home. And now you're using this as an excuse to desert?"
"I'm not deserting," the lower-ranking skeleton replied. "And this is no home, Tovius."
"That's because you're squeamish," Tovius retorted. "This place saved our company! It offers everything soldiers like us could need!"
"No it doesn't," Virtus replied. "We have no honorable combat, and therefore no way to change our station and forms. Our contract forces us into acts that our company once considered to be dishonorable, and beneath us." The dead man's sockets seemed to bore into the other skeleton. "We are dogs," Virtus said clearly. "Dead dogs, collecting scraps from the table of degenerate cannibals."
For a moment they just stared at each other. Then the one called Tovius somehow managed to sneer at Virtus, despite the lack of lips.
“You and your foolish faith,” the higher-ranking dead man spat. “Clinging to the idea that we will somehow change. You would turn us all into dust with your old, disproven delusions. I’m done with you. The company will be done with you, after this. This time they’ll strip your medals as well. And we’ll cast you out. Then you’ll really be without a home. And you know what happens to the homeless dead?”
"Gonna have to interrupt this issue you guys are having," I said. "Since you, sir, seem to have more security clearance, could I get you to tell me what it is you're doing on my planet? And then get you to leave?"
"Your planet?" the undead centurion/hoplite/whatever-the-hell-he-was asked. "You, a frightened little human boy, claim this whole entire planet?" The creature took a step forward. I suddenly realized that he was tall, at least as I was, even without the fancy helmet. "Are you doing this because you saw a scared little girl do the same thing? Because you think that since she was able to stand up to us, you can too? Well, let me tell you something," the skeleton hissed.
"We didn't withdraw because we were afraid of her."
At this point many, many pairs of lights appeared in the distance. I heard footfalls and metal rattle.
"We left her alone because she was under another's contract," the creature spat.
"What?" I asked. "What do you mean?"
Deep in the back of my jaw, a tooth started to itch again. My skin felt flaky.
"Tell me," I said quietly. "Tell me whether or not you had taken a contract out on Stell Starsown."
"No," Virtus replied, and I heard no pride in his voice. "Too many other groups had accepted that contract. We'd have run into issues if we had gone after the last Starsown."
"She was wanted too much," Tovius chuckled, and another tooth itched right next to the first one. "Even for being the last of a dead race, she was wanted too much. Someone was obsessed over her. Promised entire worlds to anyone that brought her to the contractor whole and unharmed, and then left quickly to provide privacy."
I ground my teeth together. It didn't stop the itching.
"So we left her alone," Virtus interrupted. "Because at that time, wisdom still prevailed in the company. Along with one last thread of honor," he added after a moment.
"Shut your mouth, soldier!" Tovius rasped. "You are hereby relieved of command!"
"Get off of my planet."
Heads swiveled back over to me.
"Excuse me?" the more arrogant, asinine of the two bone-men asked. "What did you say, little boy?"
"I said get off my planet," I growled. "I've been listening to too many perverts, monsters, slavers and murderers talk after the past few months. So I've given you a little bit of mercy, because the less time I spend with you the better. Turn over all of the captives, ghosts or otherwise. Surrender any objects you have looted from this planet. Then take your entire army of undead rent-a-cop assholes and get off of my planet. This is your only chance, and I will give you approximately five seconds to acknowledge and agree to my order."
"Five seconds," Tovius repeated, as if in disbelief.
"Four seconds," I answered.
Behind me, I heard the Testifiers get ready. Feet shuffled. A bow and arrow nocked. Breena took position over my shield-bearing arm.
"Three seconds," I said, when neither of them moved.
"Well, that's enough for me," Virtus replied. "I could use a change of scenery. Let me swing by the quartermaster to collect my back pay."
"You're not getting a shred of essence," Tovius spat. "And you disgust me."
"Likewise," Virtus grumbled. "It is an honor to now call you my former comrade-in-arms."
"I swear you'll suffer for that!" Tovius snapped.
"Two seconds," I interrupted. "And if you were any smarter you would realize he's making the absolute best choice to look out for his own interests. You're the one about to hang for your quote-unquote noble cause."
"Fine. We'll stand down," the red-caped corpse said snidely. "But may I ask a question?"
Clanking sounded from behind him. The pairs of lights stepped out from the shadows of heavy dead trees.
"Updating," Avalon intoned. "Total count for the number of opponents has increased, taking into account multiple stragglers entering the area in the last minute. Final count of possible enemies is one hundred and ten."
I sighed.
"Great."
"Negative. Scenario is sub-optimal. Avalon will attempt
to bring further power rituals online to provide a wider radius of surveillance."
That made me blink.
Because I couldn't decide whether the superintelligence was being sarcastic, remorseful or just itself.
I turned my attention back to the shapes lumbering into view. Their sizes varied, but most of them were of average height, a few inches below my own. They were skeletons as well, and humanoid, but their appearances were even more distorted than that of Tovius and Virtus. Their fangs were even longer, and some had what looked to be tusks jutting out of their lower mandibles. A few more had spike-like protrusions jutting from various joints and forelimbs of their body. And all of them had sharp claws.
It seemed... strange to me.
"The little lordling seems less confident, Virtus," Tovius hissed through his own fangs. "Have you noticed?"
"I have," the undead hoplite said, still standing off to the side. "And I have probably noticed far more about him than you have."
"What do you mean?" the caped creature hissed.
"Why doesn't their armor fit?" I finally asked.
"What?" the Greco-Roman undead monster asked.
"I said, why doesn't their armor fit? And why are they holding their weapons so awkwardly?"
The commander turned and looked, as if he wasn't sure what gear his flesh-less troops had put on when everyone showed up to work today. Armor of many varieties rested awkwardly on limbs with too many sharpened joints. It was mostly still bronze and early iron age stuff, with muscle-sculpted cuirasses and early types of mail. Most of it was still of good quality, but even I could tell that the malformed troops were not moving properly in their gear.
"They look... sloppy," I decided.
"Sloppy?" Tovius sneered. "Are you finally running out of insults?"
"I doubt it," Eadric offered from behind me. “It’s at least half of all he does.”
"I think he was just surprised," Weylin added.
“Just give him a minute,” Karim chimed in. “He’ll come up with something, even though you still won’t be impressed afterwards.”
I spent a valuable moment of my time, in a life-or-death situation, to look back at them.
Brace For the Wolves Page 17