by DoctorHepa
“You ready?” I asked.
“No,” Donut said. “I don’t like this plan, Carl.”
Mongo was in his carrier. He’d proven that we couldn’t trust him to stay still when things started to get out of control, and we definitely needed to control the narrative here. And Donut needed to focus.
We were relying on Mordecai’s advice to keep ourselves alive.
“Liches come in all shapes and sizes and power levels. You never know what they’re going to be,” he’d said earlier this evening. “But they all have one thing in common, each and every one of them.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
He looked up at the ceiling wryly. “They’re just like Odette. They never, ever shut the hell up. They are narcissists to a fault. And they are cowards. Now that they have grasped a handful of life, they will do whatever they can not to let it go again. That’s why they always have minions. They always have elaborate, grandiose plans. That’s why I think you should just blow the building and take a chance at losing the quest.”
This was earlier, when we still thought that Featherfall was the lich and that his lair was above the mall. But since then, Mordecai had changed his mind. He seemed to think that because we’d killed most of Remex’s support system, he would be vulnerable. It was now worth the risk to approach him. Mordecai also said that it made sense that he’d hide above the warehouse of the swordsmen. A magical crystal was used to “recharge” the swordsmen each night, and anyone searching the town using magical means wouldn’t see him there.
Mordecai: Here’s another wrinkle. This is obviously another boss. And since that one earlier was a Neighborhood Boss, I’d bet my left nipple this one is a Borough Boss. So even if he’s been weakened, you need to come to the fight prepared.
So we made the decision. We were going to confront the lich while he was weak. He already knew we were coming. It was likely he’d been watching this whole time. So we would slowly and deliberately ring the exterior of the building with explosives, enough to turn the whole structure into dust.
My original plan was to have Donut stay outside while I went in solo. She absolutely refused.
“You promised me that I wouldn’t die alone,” she said. “You can’t keep that promise if you die before me. We do this together.”
I relented, but it required a change to the plans.
Katia now stood in the crowd. Her face was much better, much more natural. She still looked like a burn victim who fell face-first out of the ugly tree, but I wouldn’t question she was a human now. I summoned her over.
“Here,” I said. “Hold onto this for me.” I handed her a pencil-like detonator.
“Whoa, whoa,” she said, backing up, refusing to take it. “Don’t give that to me.”
“Keep it in your inventory,” I said, shoving it into her hand. “If we die, or if I say so, press the button. No questions. Just do it.”
“Why don’t you hold onto it?” she asked, looking at it like I’d just handed her a live snake. “Carl, the description says it might click on its own.”
“Put it in your inventory. It’ll be fine,” I said.
It disappeared into her pack.
“Why me?” she asked again. She looked ill.
“We don’t know if this guy has some sort of mind control. It’s a lich thing. We need someone outside the sphere of influence to hold onto the boom switch just in case.”
“So what’s your angle here?” she asked. “Mutually assured destruction?”
“That’s right,” I said. “All we want is information. All he wants is to live. It’s a gamble, sure. But it’s not like we’re not constantly on the precipice of death anyway.”
She shook her head. “Hekla warned me that you were crazy.”
“Just be sure to be about a block away before you press it. There’s enough dynamite in there to blow your weird snowboots back to Iceland.” I raised my voice and called to the crowd. “You are all still in the blast zone. You’ll want to back up. A lot.”
We stepped into the warehouse as the crowd started to scatter. I gave the Swordsmen a nervous glance as we quickly moved to the small trap door cut into the corner of the room. I pulled my ladder and began to ascend. Donut remained on my shoulder, trembling.
“It’s moving. But it’s going to the back corner of the room, like it’s running away,” Donut said.
“Don’t kill us,” I called as I came into the room. “You kill us, you’ll die too!”
I took a deep inhalation of breath as I examined the monster quivering in the far corner.
Carl: Not a lich, Mordecai. Not a fucking lich!
A note from DoctorHepa
I hope everybody has a great weekend! We are still in cliffhanger zone. The current arc ends at chapter 72. I appreciate ya'll very much.
I spent all day yesterday at the emergency vet with Freddie because he wasn't feeling too well. Thankfully he's feeling much better now. Not my favorite way to spend the day. But I brought my computer and managed to get a lot of writing done while he was in the back for six damn hours. Dogs are expensive, my friends.
* * *
Chapter 71
A note from DoctorHepa
Okay, so remember a few days back when I said, "Yo, there's going to be cliffhangers in the next few chapters, and if you don't like that sort of thing, wait until chapter 72 is out?"
Then some of you read anyway and said, "Yo, DoctorHepa, these cliffhangers ain't so bad. How can I stay away? I need to get my Toby fix."
The cliff at the end of this chapter is brutal. You've been warned. The good news is, this is the last one. It's not something I plan on making a habit of doing, but it's a natural part of mopping up a storyline.
“Do you understand me?” I asked.
“Do not approach. No, no. Stay away. Do not blow me up,” Remex said. His voice came out in rasps. “Please. Do not get closer.”
Confused, I examined the creature’s properties. Despite all of our preparations and Mordecai’s warnings, he was not a boss. Or a lich.
Remex – Soul Leech Capacitor. Level 1.
This is a Bereft Minion of Miss Quill
Have you ever played with a Ouija board and realized that speaking with a lost loved one just wasn’t doing it for you anymore? Perhaps you wanted to kick it up a notch? Maybe bring them back to life? And then maybe make them get a job? A Soul Leech Capacitor can do that for you.
These fragile, but physically strong undead creatures can only be created by a Necromancer or a Dark Cleric. The spell latches onto the most-loved soul of the spell’s target and yanks that creature back into existence. The resurrected spirit is forever attached to the loved one. But the Soul Leech is like a nick in the plane between life and death, and they exist in neither. A simple scratch from this beast will rip your soul straight from your body. That soul power is stored in the capacitor, allowing the Leech’s owner to access huge reserves of mana points.
“You know,” I said to Donut. “Every time I think these guys reach a new level of fucked-upedness, they surprise me. If he makes one move toward us, Magic Missile him.”
Remex looked much like Featherfall had, only this guy was alive. Sort of. He appeared to be a zombified, featherless Skyfowl. His eyes were black, swirling orbs. Hazy black smoke rose off of the body. Ethereal, worm-like wisps swirled about the creature, like a parody of the full wings he once had.
A thin, thread-like twist of golden light flowed into the creature’s chest, tethering him to a golf ball-sized, amber-hued jewel that floated in the middle of the room. A stalk of light flowed downward through a small hole in the floor. Additional tendrils of golden light whipped about the gem, flying in all directions, as if it was seeking further items to feed. I cringed as the light ripped across me, but I didn’t feel anything. It seemed the light was harmless to those who couldn’t use it.
The eagle huddled in the corner, gasping. He appeared to be in agony.
Carl: What the hell is a bereft minion?
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Mordecai: It’s a minion who is still alive after their controller is dead. It looks like you killed the head bad guy when you blew up Miss Quill. It happens. Quests sometimes look bigger than they really are. I should have known since it was only a silver quest. Sorry about making you waste all that dynamite. Get the information out of him, put him out of his misery, and then get back here before the swordsmen wake up. Otherwise you’ll be stuck in that warehouse all day.
I quickly examined the jewel.
Soul Crystal. C-Grade.
Elf technology. It’s like a wireless charger. Instead of electricity, it runs on the soul power of everything killed within the area. And instead of charging your iPhone, this particular gem tops off the town’s Swordsmen guards each night. Some of that power is also leeching into something else.
If this crystal is physically touched by living flesh, it will shatter and cease to work.
Mordecai had already told us a bit about these things. They were indeed worthless once they were activated. Breaking it would stop the guards from charging up, but it wouldn’t otherwise hurt them. They’d eventually run out of juice, but it wouldn’t happen right away.
“Were you watching? Did you see what I did to the outside of this building?” I asked.
“I saw. I saw,” he said. “You gave your friend the remote. My wife cast the spell. She has a thousand eyes, all watching at once. Watching, tasting. We see all. She cast the spell through me, and the vision comes through me and into her. But now she is gone, and it is building, building. There is nowhere to go. Her soul is lost now. With the sunrise, the release. The release.”
He wasn’t making any sense.
“So Quill would cast the spells, but she would do it through you? Is that what it means for you to be a capacitor?”
“Yes. So much power, so much power. With the little ones. With the antennae. All of it is gathered. Gathering. She has to siphon it away. She is gone, gone. She is gone. No spell tonight. No siphon tonight.”
“Great, another loon,” Donut muttered.
I tried to make my voice soothing. He was still all the way on the other side of the room, but I didn’t want to approach him. “Tell us about the little ones. The girls. Tell us about Featherfall and Miss Quill. How you came to be.”
The creature blinked, as if seeing us for the first time. The swirls of light around him lashed about. The cloudiness of his eyes vanished. “Who are you? Where am I?”
I repeated my question, but more slowly. He settled into the corner, wrapping his bare, emaciated wings around himself, like he was a scared child.
“You’re here for the story. I understand now. I have waited so long for someone to tell. All I had to do was tell the story, and I would be done.”
“Please,” I said. “Yes. Tell us, and we won’t hurt you.”
He nodded slowly. “Please, give me a moment. Don’t kill me before it’s done. I have practiced this. It’s a lot, but I gotta get it out. Here is the story. He… Featherfall. He never liked the guards. He only held a small amount of control over them. He wanted more. He asked me, after I retired and handed the perch to him. That’s right. He asked me what must be done to control the swordsmen. To control them, I said, one must know what they are. How they are animated, how they came to be. Wait, don’t ask about that. That’s not important. It’s a tangent. We have to avoid tangents. Featherfall was short-sighted. He had no ambition other than power over this small town. His kingdom. Skyfowl ruled this world. Did you know that? Before that demon destroyed it all. I like to think of it as a metaphor. Some say the Primals… No. I can’t. That’s off-script. Sorry, sorry. Please. The Skyfowl were once on top of the world. In control of the Over City. It’s important you know that.”
“So what happened?” I asked. “How did he get put into that thing?”
“You are like him. You only care about what is in front of you right now. You don’t see the larger picture. I think that’s what I needed to say.”
Donut: Carl. Something is happening. Something weird. The counter is being slow as usual, but I think our views are going really high. I keep getting achievements for views and followers. You probably are too. I don’t understand why.
I ignored her. “Show me the small picture first. Then zoom it out for me.”
Remex shifted then continued. “Let me finish the story. Don’t kill me. I have to start over if you kill me. The orc, he killed me. Years ago.”
“I’m going to kill you right here and now if you don’t get on with it,” Donut said.
He made a half whimper, half cheeping noise that sounded utterly pitiful. “I shall finish. After I passed, Featherfall approached my wife. Quill. Miss Quill they say, but I don’t know why they added the Miss. He asked her to help him cast the spell. He knew bringing another dark cleric like myself from the dim would make an especially strong capacitor, giving him the additional soul power he needed to subjugate the swordsmen. He put himself into the Night Votive position, with my wife in the room to assist.”
I could barely follow his story. “Wait, so Miss Quill knew that you would be ripped from death and turned into what you are now? And she was okay with that?”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “She’s not really… no, I can’t say that. Remex. Think, think. Oh yes, she also knew Featherfall was making a grave error by casting the spell too close to the Amplifier.”
“Amplifier?” I asked.
“Oh yes. You are standing before it. The roof is the antennae, and the soul crystal stores the power. It captures the energy from the lost souls in the area. It is this that keeps the swordsmen animated. High Elf magic. They are the ones who… No, another tangent. Wrong path. At night, the swordsmen are recharged. But Featherfall’s quarters are right across the way. When he cast the spell, I was manifested and brought into existence. But he was killed by the feedback. My wife, she planned this. She’d been planning it all along, her entire life. It was exactly what was supposed to happen. I was damned the moment I became her husband. I was now a capacitor for her. She pretended as if the magistrate was still alive, and she took up the duties of running the settlement. She was a powerful mage. She had a forgery spell. It fooled everyone.”
Mordecai: You guys are running low on time. Finish this and get out of there.
Carl: Almost done.
“And why did you bring the women in? The prostitutes?”
“Don’t… Don’t trip me up. You listen. We’re getting there. First, she took control of those fool elves. She cast an illusion, a resplendent Skyfowl from legend to speak to them, pretend to be an angel, make them believe their tree god is coming for them. I could make them fly, manipulate things. The avatars, I mean. She never liked getting her hands dirty. So she used them. For intimidation. Corpse removal. My avatars. One looked like my son. My boy. Lost in time. But they couldn’t move far from here. So my wife instead sent the elves about on her task, to bring the women to us. These women just kept coming, searching for a better life. Over and over. Sometimes, I could see it in their eyes. They were like me. A tenner. Don’t get undead, they told us. Don’t get undead. It’s not worth it. Wait, ignore that.”
Getting him to stay on the subject was like trying to steer without a rudder. “Okay, but why did she bring the women to you?”
“For two reasons. My wife had grand plans, plans set forth long ago. But she needed help, help that couldn’t be fully accomplished by the city elves. The krasue are easy to control. Easy to make if you have the correct materials. They fly, and they are intact and compliant during the day. Plus the act of generating them creates a powerful spike of soul power, adding to my energy. And since the raw materials come from out of town, nobody would notice she was collecting them.”
“Somebody did notice. Gumgum noticed,” Donut said.
“So you power up every time something dies?”
“Yes. And my position here allows me to also leech off the souls flowing into the crystal. My wife knew this, but even she couldn’t predi
ct the sheer amount of energy. I can feel it. It is so much. Mana points. That feeling when you drink the potion, of the mana points flowing back into you, but it never stops coming.”
I felt a chill. I was finally reading between the lines. We needed to hurry this along. “So your wife was building an army? Why?”
“She was a granddaughter of the royal family. Ambition soared through her. She was going to reclaim it all. But you killed her, and you found me. She dies, but I’m never found. But this time. I have been discovered. There was an orc, once. He found me. He killed me before I finished the story.”
“Focus, Remex. Tell me about Quill. When you say reclaim it all, what does that mean?”
“Oh yes, of course. The spell. I need to mention the spell. She was preparing The Final War. It is a three-part spell. Heirloom magic. First cast by her grandfather, then her mother, then she was to complete it. Like Scolopendra’s nine-tier attack that ruined our kingdom, she has prepared something that will reclaim the Over City for the Skyfowl.”
“So she was waiting to collect enough power before she could cast this spell, then?” I asked. “And she needed the army to do what? Protect her while she cast it?”
“That is correct. Before, during, and after. And the krasue would be her lieutenants, her eyes and ears for the battle. But she had enough power. More than enough. She’d already started. She did.”
“Wait, what would have happened if she’d completed the casting?” I asked.
“Oh, it is a glorious spell. The third and final act of The Final War is a long, dangerous spell that takes three nights to cast. She’d done the first. Was going to do the second tonight. Thousands. Thousands of mana points. Once completed, the beasts she unleashed would sweep across the Over City and slaughter all but those whose essence she has protected, those she added to the spell.”
“You mean the feathers?” I asked. “So the Skyfowl and midget Skyfowl, whatever they’re called would be safe?”