ã€ŠTales from Aurea - A TTRPG Adventureã€‹


 Session 0 - Visions of Fire and Ice

    Sakrattars hunched forward, chin in his hands, and watched the sun disappear beneath the rooftops of Barsicum. It was a boring end to a disappointing day. He pulled the string of his purse closed and tucked it into an inner pocket of his robes, noting its lack of weight with a miserable sigh. There was no helping it. Digging the tip of a walking stick into the ground, he hauled himself to his feet with a crack and a groan. As he gathered his things, the woman from the nearby dye shop began her evening sweeping. He felt her eyes on him, recognized the increasing vigor in her staccato movements. She was just itching to say something rude to him. It would begin in three sweeps, two sweeps, one¡ª

    ¡°Why¡¯re you always outside my shop?¡± she said with a huff. ¡°Go sit outside that damned dressmaker¡¯s place for a change. Better yet, why don¡¯t you go to the Temple of Nargo? Help you find an honest job instead of whatever charlatanry you¡¯ve got going on here.¡±

    Sakrattars had heard it all before. ¡°Sorry ma¡¯am,¡± he said impassively.

    ¡°You make my respectable business look bad,¡± she complained, ignoring his insipid apology. ¡°Drives away the customers! Stop folding that rag of yours and look at me when I speak to you. Aegis in Arcadia, lend me your strength. . . ¡®Ey! Get back here!¡± But Sakrattars had already turned into the nearest alley. He was eager to be home and knew he would be treated to the rest of her grievances in the morning anyway.

    Navigating the narrow path between the tall plaster and brick buildings, Sakrattars pulled off a gray wig, releasing a cascade of the short, black hair that betrayed his youth. He rubbed his ears and winced¡ªthe wig concealed their long, pointy tips well enough but not without some pinching. Distracted by the pain, he didn¡¯t see the elderly woman pulling laundry off the line in front of him.

    ¡°Watch where you¡¯re going, why don¡¯t ya?¡± she cried as Sakrattars crashed into her.

    ¡°Apologies.¡± Sakrattars bowed sheepishly, re-bundling his blanket and checking to make sure his purse, pitiful as it was, was still secure in his pocket.

    The woman eyed him¡ªa young elf holding a wig and an old man¡¯s cane¡ªdubiously. ¡°What are you, some kind of actor?¡± she asked contemptuously.

    Sakrattars scoffed and continued on. Were the moons in shadow? The Abyss¡¯s proximity would certainly account for the foul mood on the streets. Wiping his face as he walked, he haphazardly avoided slick puddles of dubious origin and stray dogs nosing through refuse. The only thing that could make his evening worse would be taking a tumble into something unsavory.

    He was thankful when he reached the end of the alley without further incident. Pausing to tie his hair back into a messy ponytail, he took a quick look around the corner. There was a group of workers heading home, laughing at some shared joke, and a street cleaner scooping horse manure into a cart, but nobody who might recognize him. The way clear, he scurried across the road to his apartment building.

    The landlord was in his usual spot: snoring under an open window in the foyer with an empty bottle by his side. Sakrattars wrinkled his nose as he passed by to get to the stairs. The walls were stained and waxy and the sconces burned out. Fortunately, Sakrattars could see quite well in dim light.

    He disarmed the locking spell on the door to his unit, too relieved to finally be home to notice the rat that scampered into a hole in the baseboards. Collapsing back onto the bed with a heavy exhale, Sakrattars stared up at the ceiling, his eyes tracing the familiar patterns of greasy soot. His room was simply furnished: there was a desk and a chair, a shelf of neatly arranged books and spell components, and a small fireplace. It was the beginning of summer so there was no need for a fire. Quite the opposite, in fact. The air was already stuffy and oppressive.

    Sakrattars stripped off his old-man robes in favor of a light shirt and trousers and threw open his only window. He didn¡¯t know why he bothered, the window was nearly flush with the neighbor¡¯s wall. But maybe that day would be the one where the wind blew at just the right angle to make it inside.

    It was then that Sakrattars noticed a letter on the floor. His heart clenched as he recognized the thin paper and delicate wax seal. Tearing it open, he was greeted by the flowing, cursive elvish that his sister was so fond of.

    Sakrattars,

    Please consider giving up this foolish pursuit of yours. I know Father would welcome you back if you apologized to him and agreed to study a subject more fitting of an elf lord like yourself. Think of how he must feel. His son, gifted in magic, and choosing to study divination? Divination is utterly devoid of culture, lacking in any foundation, and associated with scammers and thieves¡ªhow could you possibly be interested in such a thing?

    If you agree to switch, Father might even be able to get you in at the Academia Arcana in Aurea. I can certainly mention the idea to him (casually of course) if you wish. You know how he tends to listen to me.

    It has been years and we haven¡¯t heard from you. I know everyone here shares my sentiment when I say that we want you to come home.

    Sakrattars snorted skeptically. He continued:

    Please write me back. Your behavior is an embarrassment to the family.

    Your loving sister,

    Mira

    Sakrattars had barely finished reading when he crumpled up the letter and tossed it into the ashy fireplace. How did she even find out where he lived? The school must have told her. He made a mental note to speak to an administrator the next time he was in.

    He opened a cage on the desk and took out a fat toad with bulging yellow eyes. ¡°So how was your day, Bartholomew?¡± he asked. The toad blinked in response, his eyelids slightly out of sync. ¡°Not too eventful, I suppose.¡± Sakrattars laid down on the bed, absently stroking Bartholomew¡¯s warty skin as his thoughts took him down the long road south, towards home.

    *

    *

    The next morning, Sakrattars watched the crowds pass by without truly seeing them. Maybe his sister was right, in a way. He had been attending the University for a decade now and didn¡¯t have much to show for it. A majority of his time was spent making enough coin to scrape by and not on his studies. But since when did his hardships ever matter to his family? He let out a frustrated groan and a passerby started, clutching her purse nervously as she hurried along.

    ¡°Pardon, old sir.¡±

    Forgetting that he was currently dressed as an old man, Sakrattars ignored the deep voice at first. A throat cleared, then a large hand waved slowly in his line of sight.

    ¡°Old sir?¡±

    This time, Sakrattars looked up to the giant form of a natiuhan. He used to see them on a regular basis in his hometown of Arvisian Bay but they were a far less common sight this far into the Empire. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am?¡± he croaked in his false voice, mildly irritated at being distracted from his brooding. ¡°Can I interest you in your future?¡±

    The natiuhan fished through the purse on her belt. ¡°Not mine,¡± she said. Waiting for an elaboration, Sakrattars noticed that other shoppers in the area were beginning to stare. As well as being an unusual visitor in Barsicum, this natiuhan in particular cut quite an impressive figure. She was tall and burly, with dark tiger stripes tattooed across her tawny skin and a wild mass of dark red curls swooped to one side. The gold jewelry adorning her body chimed softly with every movement. She either didn¡¯t notice all the attention she was drawing or didn¡¯t care.

    The natiuhan finally threw some coins into Sakrattars¡¯ sack. ¡°Not my future. Hers.¡± She gestured to a young girl peeking timidly out from behind her back. Sakrattars hadn¡¯t even noticed the girl at first. She was dressed in a long cloak that looked to be little more than a tattered wool blanket, the hood drawn up far over her head. He couldn¡¯t be sure since her features were so well-hidden but, based on her diminutive size, she didn¡¯t appear to be a natiuhan herself. Natiuhans were known for being a secretive bunch and, despite living and working among other peoples, they tended to stick with their own and it was rare to see one alone. But it wasn¡¯t this fact that made Sakrattars think that there must be something odd about the pair before him. No, there was something more intangible to it. Something he might one day describe as ¡°fate¡±.

    ¡°And what about your future shall I divine?¡± Sakrattars asked the girl. Without responding, she shrunk out of view behind the natiuhan¡¯s massive thigh.

    ¡°Whether or not she will reach her goal,¡± the natiuhan said.

    Sakrattars paused skeptically, wondering what kind of goals a child could even have, but he held out his hand all the same. ¡°For this to work I need to hold your hand, my dear.¡±

    The natiuhan nudged the girl forward. ¡°Go on, he¡¯s not going to hurt you. And if he does, he won¡¯t get away from me.¡± To make her point, the natiuhan punched a fist into her other hand. The girl relaxed, apparently comforted by this idea. Sakrattars rolled his eyes then offered the girl his hand again. This time, she shyly reached out her own.

    The moment they touched, an unexpected surge of energy snaked up Sakrattars¡¯ arm and he was thrust into a whirlwind of visions. He saw decades, centuries, flash by in the time it took for the girl to fully rest her hand in his. A burst of light blinded his mind¡¯s eye, only to then be plunged into darkness as the shadow of a dragon, ringed by a halo of fire and ice, spread its wings. The magnificent creature turned its head, staring deep into Sakrattars¡¯ soul, and roared. Sakrattars drew in a sharp breath as if coming up for air and then he was back in Barsicum, on his blanket, surrounded by the bustle of the morning marketplace, holding the pale hand of this strange girl.

    Sakrattars marveled at the vision, his initial fear and surprise evolving into excitement.

    He had an opportunity at last.

    ¡°So?¡± the natiuhan prodded impatiently.

    ¡°I have seen it,¡± Sakrattars said, coughing softly, ¡°and you will succeed.¡± The girl brightened, turning to her companion triumphantly.

    ¡°I told you. Nothing to worry about.¡± The natiuhan nodded. ¡°Thanks, old sir. We¡¯ll be on our way.¡±

    ¡°But,¡± Sakrattars continued, putting emphasis on the word so that the two halted in their tracks. A thrill shot up his spine and he tried to keep the exhilaration from his voice. ¡°You will need help.¡±

    ¡°What kind of help?¡± The natiuhan narrowed her eyes.

    ¡°The help of a diviner.¡±

    ¡°And where are we to find one of those?¡±

    ¡°Well I am a diviner, as you have seen,¡± Sakrattars said. ¡°I can help you.¡±

    The natiuhan¡¯s demeanor immediately shifted from somewhat vexed to quietly lethal. It was nearly enough to make Sakrattars second guess his plan. ¡°And what¡¯s in it for you?¡± she asked.

    Taking a brief moment to compose himself, Sakrattars folded his hands into the sleeves of his robes. He had to answer carefully. Her question was posed in such a way that he knew he only had one shot. ¡°You are on some grand adventure, yes? Well, I am sadly quite weak and find it difficult to travel alone as a result. I only ask that you protect me on this journey with you so I can finally see all that I can see in this world . . . before I depart this life.¡± He coughed again, trying to be as pitiful as possible. The girl¡¯s eyes softened in sympathy but the natiuhan remained unmoved. ¡°In return, I will serve you well.¡±

    ¡°No thanks,¡± the natiuhan refused flatly, barely waiting until Sakrattars was finished.

    ¡°But you haven¡¯t heard how I can be of service!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t need to.¡±

    Before Sakrattars could protest further, the girl grabbed the natiuhan¡¯s arm and they exchanged a murmured conversation. Evidently, whatever she said was more convincing than Sakrattars¡¯ plea. ¡°Can you leave now?¡± the natiuhan grumbled.

    ¡°Meet me at this address tonight. Then we can go.¡± Sakrattars scribbled on a scrap of paper and handed it to her.

    ¡°Fine,¡± the natiuhan growled, crumpling the note into a clenched fist.

    *

    *

    That evening, Sakrattars gleefully packed his meager possessions into a travel bag. ¡°Bartholomew, things are finally looking up,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯re going on a real adventure. There¡¯s something very special about that girl and I¡¯m going to find out what it is.¡± He threw the plain robes, the wig, and the blanket into a corner of the room and donned his wizard¡¯s robes, made properly from rich fabrics and ornately stitched with elven design. The old man persona had outlived its usefulness. He was determined to impress his new benefactors tonight, to show them that he was going to be a valuable asset.

    He took a moment to admire himself, then got quiet and slinked over to the toad. ¡°What if she¡¯s a dragon?¡± he whispered, hardly containing his excitement. ¡°In a lot of the stories, dragons can take human form. What if I get to meet a dragon?¡± He gasped, a thought coming to him. ¡°What if I already have?¡±

    It was then that a heavy knock sounded on his door. He almost tripped while scrambling to answer it. ¡°Come in, come in.¡±

    The natiuhan, hunched over to avoid the ceiling, didn¡¯t budge from the doorway. She crossed her arms. ¡°Does an old man live here?¡±

    ¡°Yes, that was me,¡± Sakrattars explained, waving off the thought. He pointed to the heap on the floor that was once his fortune teller¡¯s disguise.

    ¡°You¡¯re an elf, a young elf. You tricked us.¡±

    ¡°What did you want me to do, reveal my identity to you in front of everyone? And nothing I told you was a lie, I do want to see all I can before I die. You just allowed my appearance at the time to . . . change the meaning a little.¡±

    The natiuhan glowered in stony silence a few moments longer, then started back down the corridor. The strange girl scurried after her.

    ¡°Wait, don¡¯t go! Let me explain!¡± Sakrattars rushed out into the hall. ¡°I can still help you!¡± Not sure what else to do, Sakrattars got a sudden, wild idea. He repeated himself in Draconic, the laden words rumbling in his throat.

    The girl stopped dead in her tracks.

    The corner of Sakrattars¡¯ mouth quirked up into a smug half-smile. His suspicions were all but confirmed.

    The natiuhan¡¯s wary gaze shifted between him and the girl. ¡°What did you say to her?¡±

    ¡°Come inside and I will explain.¡±

    *

    *

    ¡°My name is Sakrattars Mistwood. I came to Barsicum several years ago to study at the University, divination specifically. That¡¯s also where I studied Draconic.¡± Sakrattars looked meaningfully at the girl.

    ¡°I¡¯m Jo and this is Kaja,¡± the natiuhan introduced gruffly. ¡°Draconic, huh? Planning to trade with some kobolds?¡±

    Ignoring Jo¡¯s snide remark, Sakrattars bent down to speak with Kaja. ¡°You understood me, didn¡¯t you? You know Draconic.¡±

    Kaja nodded. Jo¡¯s eyebrows shot up.

    ¡°So what were you doing disguised on the street?¡± Jo turned the conversation back to Sakrattars.

    ¡°My school forbids its students from behaving in a manner that might discredit them. That includes telling fortunes in the market.¡± Sakrattars smiled bitterly. ¡°I¡¯m trying to build some foundation for trust between us by telling you this. At any time you can turn me in for fraud and I will be stripped of my enrollment and wizard¡¯s license.¡±

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Wizards have licenses?¡±

    ¡°So now that you know who I am, tell me about yourselves,¡± Sakrattars continued. ¡°What is this journey that you¡¯re on? I still intend on helping you, if that wasn¡¯t clear.¡± He leaned back, a self-satisfied smile playing on his lips. He had been correct in his assessment of these two so far. If he played his cards right, this could be his big breakthrough.

    The pair were silent.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t I proven that we can trust each other?¡± Sakrattars sighed. ¡°And there are many ways I can help you. I can divine, I can speak Draconic, I know a lot about dragons¡ª¡±

    ¡°Dragons?¡± Jo snorted. ¡°Who said anything about dragons?¡±

    ¡°I saw a dragon in my vision when I held Kaja¡¯s hand. She understands Draconic.¡± He hesitated. ¡°Is she not a dragon?¡±

    Jo¡¯s gaze lowered, her eyes darkened, and for the first time since their meeting, Sakrattars thought that he might be in real danger. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± he faltered. ¡°If she¡¯s a dragon, I won¡¯t tell anyone¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll ask you this one last time: why are you so insistent on traveling with us?¡±

    Sakrattars swallowed. Jo¡¯s amber eyes were unblinking, almost cat-like in their intensity. ¡°Truthfully, I find dragon lore fascinating. When I thought that she could be a dragon . . .¡± his voice trailed off. He hoped this would be enough for Jo. He didn¡¯t want to go into his academic failures and his desperation for a win.

    After a long pause, Jo said, ¡°she¡¯s a zmaj. You know about them?¡±

    Though they had made some progress, the dangerous glint hadn¡¯t left Jo¡¯s penetrating stare and Sakrattars knew that his response was likely going to determine his fate. ¡°A-a zmaj?¡± he stammered, feeling a bead of sweat forming on the back of his neck. He had spent thirteen decades reading everything he could about dragons and folklore and nothing had ever mentioned anything called a zmaj.

    Kaja reached up and grasped the sides of her hood.

    Jo shook her head in disapproval. ¡°Don¡¯t¡±

    ¡°I trust him,¡± Kaja said softly, pulling off the cloak. She had long white hair, an unusual sight, but more than that there were four twisting horns protruding from her skull: two large ones behind her temples and two smaller ones behind her ears. Now that she no longer had the shapeless cloak concealing her body, Sakrattars could see that her limbs and torso were long and lean, giving her an almost serpentine appearance. The tip of a white scaled tail with fish-like fins brushed under the hem of her dress.

    ¡°What in Kynara¡¯s verdant lands¡ª¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re here looking for information on zmaj,¡± Jo said. ¡°Kaja¡¯s . . . lost. I¡¯m trying to help her find her way back home.¡± At this, Kaja¡¯s shoulders dropped and her eyes became distant.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of a zmaj before. I doubt anyone here has.¡± He shook his head in shock. That¡¯s when it dawned on him: he still had an opportunity here, one even greater than what he initially thought. If he could document these so-called zmaj, a race of people that no one had ever seen or heard of, he would be more than proving himself worthy¡ªhe could be famous. The debts he had racked up would be meaningless and he could forget about pleading with headmasters to enroll him on an IOU. Schools as distant as the Grand Madrassa in Thasrah would be begging him to attend. ¡°But Barsicum¡¯s school is small compared to the one in Aurea and they have a massive library there too,¡± he said. ¡°If there isn¡¯t any writing on the zmaj in their collection, I doubt there¡¯s any in existence. Yes,¡± he nodded as the plan came together, ¡°that¡¯s where we¡¯ll start.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t going to be some picnic, you know,¡± Jo said as she watched him throw together some light provisions and tuck a few books into his pack.

    ¡°I understand. I¡¯ve been to Aurea many times,¡± Sakrattars replied absently. ¡°But, if I may ask, if you¡¯re looking for information on zmaj then why the cloak? Wouldn¡¯t it be good if someone recognized her?¡±

    Jo laughed derisively. ¡°And get accosted by gawkers? You Imperials stare at me, what do you think they¡¯ll do if they see her?¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright. . . I was just asking. Give me another moment and I¡¯ll be ready to leave.¡± Sakrattars furrowed his brow and shooed Kaja, who was peering curiously into his bag, away. "And you don''t need to keep looking at me like that," he added, glancing at Jo. "I''m a professional, a scholar"¡ªa giddiness shuddered through him at the unearned title¡ª"I''ll find you the information you want."

    Jo crossed her arms and, for a moment, Sakrattars thought she might change her mind about everything. But then her posture relaxed. ¡°What a pain in the ass," she sighed.

    With everything he cared to keep safely stowed away, Sakrattars placed Bartholomew in a special pocket in his hood and shouldered his pack. Ushering Jo and Kaja outside, he took one last look around the dark and empty apartment.

    "Good riddance," he muttered, and shut the door.

    *

    *

    One day passed on the southwest road to Aurea. Then two. By the third day, Sakrattars was certain that he wasn''t the one who was being a "pain in the ass". Jo was neither talkative nor helpful and, try as he might, Kaja was not forthcoming about her past or her people. Sakrattars had found that she was more comfortable speaking in Draconic than in Imperial Common, a language she spoke with a heavy accent and awkward cadence, but despite this discovery she would fall deathly quiet whenever he asked too many questions.

    ¡°Look, I want to help you,¡± Sakrattars said one night as they ate supper at a roadside tavern, ¡°but how can I do that if neither of you will speak with me about it?¡±

    ¡°Not here,¡± Jo said softly, her eyes darting to the other patrons in suspicion. She shifted her weight, her thighs crashing up against the bottom of the table. Dishes clattered and drinks sloshed. Kaja watched as her bowl danced around then sniffed its contents and turned away. ¡°Hey barkeep!¡± Jo called, standing up. She instantly recoiled when her head impacted a ceiling beam. ¡°Damn these Imperial buildings to the Abyss!¡± she swore.

    The barkeeper appeared, wringing his hands, sweat pooling on his temple. His pointed ears were flushed to the tips.

    ¡°Do you have any cold food?¡± Jo asked, rubbing her aching head. ¡°For the girl.¡±

    The barkeeper glanced down at Kaja. ¡°Cold food?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, the stew is warm. Do you have anything that¡¯s cold?¡±

    ¡°I . . . I don¡¯t understand.¡± The half-elf produced a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead.

    ¡°Nevermind,¡± Jo muttered. ¡°By the time you get it, the stew will be cold anyway.¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s all then . . .¡± The barkeeper excused himself, tripping over his own feet to rush back into the kitchen. The cook and a couple of the barmaids met him at the threshold, whispering and sneaking glances their way.

    When Sakrattars looked up from his meal, he realized they had been isolated, with all the other customers having drifted to the other side of the room. Growing up in the far eastern Imperial province of Taracosia, Sakrattars had lived around natiuhans all his life. There was even a district in Arvisian Bay where many natiuhans from the neighboring nation of Culacalli had opened businesses and settled down.

    But in Aurelia natiuhan warriors, renowned for their intimidating size and battle expertise, were most commonly seen when they had been hired as elite mercenaries or bodyguards. When one saw a natiuhan in Aurelia, one could expect trouble to follow¡ªbig trouble. Sakrattars couldn¡¯t exactly blame the Aurelians for being so nervous, but still he thought they were being a bit ridiculous.

    Not wanting to cause any more problems, Kaja picked up her spoon and scooped some of the hot stew into her mouth. She made a face but kept eating it.

    But Jo didn¡¯t relax. Her piercing gaze appraised each and every person in the tavern, her finger tapping anxiously on the side of her mug. ¡°I¡¯m going outside for some air,¡± she said finally. Kaja immediately dropped her spoon and stood up to follow.

    ¡°Kaja, you barely ate anything¡ª¡± Sakrattars protested. But it was no use. He was alone. He spent a few moments fidgeting in place, looking this way and that, avoiding the curious eyes he knew were on him, before he too rose and took his leave.

    He found Jo and Kaja loitering across the road, by the dark edge of the woods partially illuminated by a nearby lantern.

    ¡°You left too?¡± Jo asked.

    ¡°You made a scene. Everyone was staring.¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± she grumbled, running a hand through her hair, ¡°I¡¯ve just . . . got a bad feeling.¡±

    ¡°About?¡±

    Before she could answer, an arrow whizzed past her head, ricocheting off the stone lamp. ¡°Being followed.¡± She threw her pack to the ground. ¡°Get Kaja back inside.¡±

    ¡°But¡ª¡±

    ¡°Now!¡±

    Sakrattars hesitated. Kaja clung to the sleeve of his robe, her eyes wide with fear. Would splitting up be the wisest choice? What if something happened to Jo¡ªwhat hope would he have alone? Before he could act, his attention was drawn to shifting shadows between the trees. ¡°There¡¯s two of them!¡±

    ¡°Three!¡± Jo corrected as a man charged her from behind. She dodged the swing of his warhammer, grabbing the head of the weapon and yanking it from his grasp. Her other fist made contact with the man¡¯s gut and he slumped onto the road.

    ¡°Get Kaja out of here!¡± she ordered.

    ¡°But I can help you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Can you zap them with magic?¡±

    ¡°No but¡ª¡±

    ¡°Then you can¡¯t help me¡ªugh!¡± Another arrow whistled out of the woods, tearing through the flesh of Jo¡¯s forearm.

    Though stunned by the sight of blood, Sakrattars¡¯ ears perked to a whisper from amongst the trees. ¡°Kill the natiuhan, the girl stays alive.¡±

    ¡°What about the elf?¡±

    ¡°Client didn¡¯t mention him. Kill him too.¡±

    Tendrils of fear wormed into Sakrattars¡¯ heart. What should he do? These people meant to kill him and Jo and one of their arrows had already found its mark.

    Jo snapped off the fletching and tore the rest of the arrow from her arm, tossing it away with disgust. If the blood or the pain bothered her, she didn¡¯t show it. ¡°Come out and face me!¡± she cried. ¡°Three against one and two of you are hiding? I¡¯m insulted!¡±

    Kaja grabbed Sakrattars¡¯ hand and squeezed as hard as she could. ¡°Please . . .¡± she begged, her voice trembling. ¡°Help her.¡±

    But how could he? What spells did he know that would help? Would he even be in the right state of mind to cast them? Sakrattars scanned the woods again and saw something move, followed by the nearly imperceptible yet unmistakable hiss of an arrow being drawn. ¡°To the right, about twelve paces ahead of you!¡± he called out.

    Jo barreled into the brush with a speed wholly unexpected from someone of her size. There was the twang of a bowstring and a shout, followed by the sounds of a scuffle and then silence. The bushes suddenly burst outward as the third attacker broke into the open and tried to flee. A rock sailed out from where Jo had vanished among the trees, striking him so hard in the back of the head he face-planted into the packed dirt road.

    Moments later, Jo emerged from the woods, hastily wrapping her wound in an unfamiliar piece of ragged cloth. Sakrattars didn¡¯t ask where she got it. She picked up the unconscious man in the road by the back of the collar and his belt, tossing him into the bushes and out of sight, like he was a sack of barley.

    ¡°Were those bounty hunters?¡± Sakrattars asked, his heart still pounding.

    Ignoring his question, Jo gave him a severe look. ¡°We need to leave. Now.¡± She retrieved two cestuses from her pack and strapped one onto each fist. She winced while tightening the strap on her injured arm.

    ¡°But we paid for the rooms already¡ª¡±

    ¡°Kaja isn¡¯t safe here. None of us are.¡±

    ¡°You are being hunted,¡± Sakrattars said. ¡°What did you do? Who are you?¡±

    ¡°Look, elf.¡± Jo stood to her full height. Sakrattars was tall, but Jo loomed over him like a giant. ¡°Walk now, talk later. We need to get off the road.¡±

    ¡°W-what¡¯s going on out there?¡± The barkeeper had dared to venture outside. A gaggle of onlookers lurked in the doorway behind him, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the action.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go. Hurry.¡± Jo disappeared into the overgrowth.

    Sakrattars grudgingly agreed. What else was he supposed to do? But as they walked through the mud and clouds of biting insects, he began to weigh in his mind whether his chance at success and recognition was worth . . . whatever this was. After his robes caught on the second set of thorns, his blanket back in Barsicum wasn¡¯t looking so bad after all.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Bartholomew,¡± Sakrattars murmured, reaching up to stroke the toad. ¡°Maybe we should go back.¡±

    Jo glanced back. ¡°Who are you talking to?¡±

    ¡°Bartholomew. My familiar.¡±

    ¡°That toad?¡± Jo squinted at the creature in Sakrattars¡¯ hood, then frowned. ¡°I think we¡¯re far enough away to make camp,¡± she said, changing the subject. ¡°No fire.¡±

    Sakrattars plopped down and stretched his legs. He wasn¡¯t used to traveling on foot and they had already walked all day and then half the night. As he set out his bed roll, he tried to make conversation once more.

    ¡°Who were those men? And who are you?¡±

    Jo¡¯s gaze flickered up to him. ¡°Are you sure you want an answer to those questions?¡± she asked as she unraveled the soiled cloth around her arm, exposing the oozing wound beneath. ¡°If I¡¯m a wanted criminal, do you really think I¡¯d let you leave with that knowledge alive?¡±

    Sakrattars paused, noting how Jo flexed her fingers and rotated her wrist, methodically checking the damage in the cold, detached manner of someone used to violence and its aftermath. ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere,¡± he said at last, ¡°but I almost died back there too and I think I deserve an explanation as to why.¡±

    ¡°Almost died? I must have missed the part where you got stuck with an arrow.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be obtuse. You know what I mean.¡±

    There was a long silence as Jo rinsed her wound and Kaja handed her clean bandages from their pack. Just when he thought that the conversation must be over, Jo finally spoke.

    ¡°The truth is, I don¡¯t know who they were.¡±

    Sakrattars raised an eyebrow. ¡°You don¡¯t know? Sorry if I find that difficult to believe.¡±

    Jo¡¯s usual gruffness softened into pensive reflection. ¡°I think someone is looking for Kaja but I don¡¯t know why.¡±

    ¡°For Kaja?¡± Sakrattars was taken aback. Out of all the wild things he imagined, he never even fathomed that Kaja might be the bounty. His mind cycled rapidly through the implications before settling on the most disturbing:

    Someone in the Empire knew who¡ªor what¡ªshe was, and it was worth killing over.

    ¡°So do you know those men?¡± He turned to Kaja, who immediately looked away. ¡°Do you know them?¡± he repeated in Draconic, his frustration mounting. Kaja¡¯s lip quivered but she stayed silent.

    ¡°Don¡¯t push her,¡± Jo said. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know the real reason why you¡¯re here but I have trouble believing it¡¯s out of the goodness of your heart. I¡¯m here because I care about Kaja. I¡¯m going to protect her. And next time, if you¡¯re going to stick around, you better help protect her too.¡±

    No one else spoke for the rest of the night. As Sakrattars crawled into his bed roll, he was plagued by racing thoughts. Everything about the situation screamed for him to take his leave in the morning and never look back. But a small, irrational part couldn¡¯t resist the call to danger, to the promise of uncovering its secrets.

    What was Kaja hiding from them?

    He couldn¡¯t help but think that the answer to that question would make him famous.

    *

    *

    A hand slid over Sakrattars¡¯ mouth. His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the soft morning light. Jo was crouched over him, holding a finger to her lips, her gaze fixated on something in the surrounding trees. She stood up slowly, adjusting the cestus on her fist. Sakrattars rose to a sitting position, sliding his legs underneath him so he could stand quickly if need be.

    ¡°Defend Kaja,¡± Jo said. Sakrattars barely had any time to think about how he was going to do that before Jo charged off through the bushes. Not knowing what else to do, he grabbed the knife that he used to collect herbs and spell components from his pack.

    ¡°Stay close to me.¡± Sakrattars said, just as shouting erupted from the direction Jo had gone. Kaja jumped at the noise, then nodded and huddled at his back.

    Sakrattars¡¯ ears pricked. This sound was softer but much closer. He raised his knife, breath caught in his lungs, as a man emerged, then another behind him. Kaja clung tighter to his back, burying her face in his robes. The two men circled them, working out how best to capture their prey without getting stabbed.

    ¡°Jo!¡± Sakrattars yelled, his voice cracking. One of the men drew a sword, the other drew two daggers. ¡°Jo!¡±

    The man with the sword charged forward, intending to run Sakrattars through with it. Kaja screamed. Sakrattars could see Jo out of the corner of his eye but she wouldn¡¯t arrive in time to save him. He tried to conjure the words to a spell, any spell, but everything he ever knew evaporated from his mind. There was only one thought, one thing, that existed in the void of that moment: the knowledge that he was about to die.

    Sakrattars raised his knife, intending to stab his killer as his final act. But before either made contact with their weapons, a beastly snarl startled them. There was a flash of russet-orange fur and a blood-curdling scream as a huge animal tackled the man. Not fully realizing he was still alive, Sakrattars stared at the scene before him, frozen in shock. A giant sabercat had pounced on the swordsman, raking sharp claws across his flesh. The second man, wide-eyed in terror, fled. The sabercat¡¯s ears twitched. It abandoned the mauled corpse of the swordsman and pursued his accomplice with alarming speed. His fearful cry was cut brutally short as the sabercat latched onto the back of his head and pushed him down face first into the mud.

    Sakrattars watched the grisly sight in horror, his whole body shaking. Kaja tugged at his sleeve but he barely noticed. The sabercat was coming back towards them now, long fangs dripping with the blood of the men it just killed. Sakrattars held his knife up impotently. How could he stand a chance against such a monster?

    But to his shock, Kaja stepped forward. The beast was taller than her and could easily kill her with one bite, but she approached it with confidence and familiarity. She reached out her hand and the cat pressed its nose into it with a gravelly chuff, its ears relaxing and eyes closing. ¡°Thank you, Jo,¡± Kaja said softly, petting the creature¡¯s fluffy mane.

    ¡°Jo? Where¡ª¡± Sakrattars¡¯ voice died in his throat. His eyes rested on what appeared to be Jo¡¯s clothing on the ground. The cat was favoring its front leg, the very same limb that Jo was shot in the day before. Sakrattars felt weak, like his knees would give out on him any moment.

    The sabercat shifted form, rising up on two legs and shedding its fur. The stripes on its pelt settled into the dark brown stripes on Jo¡¯s skin. Naked and covered with blood, Jo calmly recovered her clothing and started to dress herself.

    ¡°You¡ªyou¡ª¡± Sakrattars gulped, his heart pounding in his ears. Everyone in the Aurean Empire had heard the tales as a child: the bedtime stories about people who could change shape. In some tales, the beasts would attack Imperial soldiers without mercy, in others they would safely guide a lost child out of the woods.

    Jo barely looked at him as she pulled her undershirt on. Sakrattars caught a brief glimpse of a massive burn scar on her back before it vanished beneath the fabric.

    ¡°You just¡ª¡±

    ¡°If you tell anyone, you will die.¡± Jo locked eyes with Sakrattars. ¡°We both will,¡± she added, turning away.

    Sakrattars was dizzy and overwhelmed, and his stomach lurched. He was thankful this all happened before he had a chance to eat breakfast. ¡°Can all natiuhans do that?¡±

    Jo¡¯s jaw tightened for a moment. ¡°Yes.¡±

    Sakrattars struggled to process this information. In the pursuit of one mystery, he had discovered another. But he knew better than to push the subject any further. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said quietly, ¡°for saving my life.¡±

    Jo nodded once in acknowledgment and grabbed her pack. ¡°Thank you, too.¡±

    ¡°For what?¡±

    ¡°For defending her.¡± Jo placed her hand on Kaja¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Kaja repeated shyly. Sakrattars flushed at the praise.

    ¡°Well let¡¯s get going,¡± Jo urged. ¡°And keep that knife handy, elf. I have a feeling that you¡¯ll be needing it.¡± Sakrattars nodded and tucked the sheath into his sash. He had survived his first adventure and, now that the heart-pumping adrenaline was subsiding, was feeling pretty good about it. Yet the tiny voice in the back of his mind nagged at him, told him that if he didn¡¯t turn back soon that he¡¯d live to regret it.

    But who has achieved greatness without facing a bit of danger? he reasoned, then ran to catch up with his new companions.

 Session 1 - The Seal

    Sakrattars breathed a heavy sigh of relief when they reached Orium. It had been two blessedly uneventful days since the run-in with the bounty hunters but he had just about enough of sleeping on the ground and constantly looking over his shoulder. Now that they were back in civilization, he wouldn¡¯t need to worry about either. But where he found reason to relax, Jo¡¯s vigilance only sharpened.

    Situated at the point where the Calthian mainland jutted out into the Aurelian peninsula, Orium was a lively crossroads town with the way to Aurea in the south, Barsicum to the east, and the country of Balthissica to the west. Though an important waypoint for travelers, Orium never reached the grandeur of other Imperial cities. It was a place everyone passed through but very few seemed to live in. Perhaps it was its transient nature that had Jo so on edge.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so tense, no one¡¯s going to try anything in the city limits,¡± Sakrattars said. ¡°Orium¡¯s one of the safest towns in the Empire. Crime is nearly unheard of here.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure about that?¡± Jo muttered. Absently, she touched her wounded arm and cringed.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Sakrattars replied curtly, miffed at the doubt in his judgment, ¡°and you really should get that looked at while we¡¯re here.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°No, it isn¡¯t. I worked briefly as a physician¡¯s assistant. That arm is infected. You could even lose it.¡±

    Kaja perked at this. ¡°Don¡¯t lose it,¡± she pleaded.

    ¡°I won¡¯t!¡± Jo said. ¡°The elf is being dramatic. I¡¯ve been through worse than this and came out just fine.¡±

    But Kaja wasn¡¯t having it. She stopped in the road, her eyebrows knitted together. ¡°Please go.¡±

    Jo groaned. Kaja pulled a face. Sakrattars pursed his lips, eyes darting between them, and waited for one of them to fold.

    Kaja¡¯s mood markedly improved once they were at the clinic. She sat cheerfully in a window arch, kicking her legs idly and watching the passersby. Sakrattars leaned against the wall, a book in hand. Jo may be the de facto leader of their little band, he reflected privately, but it was Kaja who always seemed to get her way.

    It was midday when Jo reemerged, pulling back the curtain in the doorway with her arm newly wrapped in fig leaves and linen, and smelling faintly of honey and marigolds.

    ¡°I want to see you back here for fresh dressing every day for at least a week,¡± the doctor said, his stern tone suggesting that Jo had given him the same grief she had given Sakrattars and Kaja. ¡°I told you what might happen if you don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Jo grumbled.

    After the doctor disappeared back into the clinic, Kaja jumped down from the window and inspected Jo¡¯s arm, turning it this way and that. Sakrattars doubted she had any real idea what she was looking at, but Jo was willing to humor her.

    ¡°Well, we¡¯re stuck here for a week,¡± Jo said.

    ¡°There¡¯s no rush,¡± Sakrattars replied. Secretly, he was thrilled by the idea of spending more time in a nice, dry bed. Something told him that Jo would want to avoid the main roads down to Aurea so he was eager to enjoy his creature comforts while he could.

    As if reading his thoughts, Jo smiled wryly. ¡°Yeah? How are we going to pay for it?¡±

    Sakrattars¡¯ face fell. It always came down to money, more precisely his lack of it. He was convinced that the stuff was cursed by the Abyss.

    *

    *

    ¡°This is the fourth inn we¡¯ve tried,¡± Sakrattars whispered, huddling with Jo and Kaja in the foyer. ¡°I doubt we¡¯ll find any cheaper.¡± Even after pooling all their remaining coins, they didn¡¯t have enough money to pay the length of stay.

    ¡°Do you have anything you can sell?¡± Jo asked. ¡°Those robes look pretty expensive.¡±

    ¡°No way!¡± Sakrattars crossed his arms, as if Jo might try to take them from him at that very moment. ¡°What about your cestuses?¡±

    Jo¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Since you¡¯re a wizard who can¡¯t use magic, these cestuses are the only real defense we have.¡±

    ¡°¡®Can¡¯t use¡ª¡¯? Of course I can use magic.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll believe it when I see it.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me,¡± the maid interrupted. She smiled and waved when they looked over. ¡°I couldn¡¯t help overhearing.¡±

    Sakrattars bowed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, we¡¯ll be on our way¡ª¡±

    ¡°Before you do, I thought I¡¯d share something you might find useful.¡± The woman stopped sweeping and lowered her voice. ¡°I don¡¯t normally do this but, well, you¡¯re a warrior, aren¡¯t you?¡± She nodded at Jo, gesturing to her hair. It was true¡ªJo kept her curly red hair in the traditional Culacallian warrior style: shaved on the right and long on the left. ¡°I grew up outside Castrum Solis in Datharia and, well, let¡¯s just say I owe a lot to natiuhan warriors. The word is that the Dominus was robbed a few days ago. He¡¯s looking for someone to help track down some items that were taken. I hear that there¡¯s a handsome reward in it for the person who does.¡±

    ¡°The Dominus, huh?¡± Jo rubbed her chin. ¡°Thanks for the tip.¡±

    When they were back out on the street, Jo and Sakrattars found an unobtrusive spot in an alley to discuss their options.

    ¡°Crime is ¡®unheard of¡¯ in Orium, eh?¡± Jo said snidely. ¡°Do you know anything about this Dominus?¡±

    ¡°I did say ¡®nearly¡¯,¡± Sakrattars retorted. ¡°And it is quite odd, I must admit. It¡¯s because of Dominus Gaius Praetia¡¯s policies that Orium is usually so safe. For him to be the victim of a crime is rather ironic.¡±

    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s a lie?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a private man, rarely appears in public and hires his own personal guards rather than drawing from the Imperial watch. But I¡¯ve never heard anything bad about him. On the contrary, I¡¯ve only heard people talk about him as fair and just. Kind, even. I don¡¯t think he would lie about something like this. What would he have to gain?¡±

    ¡°Well, what are we waiting for?¡± Jo paused, distracted by the sound of quiet munching. ¡°Kaja? Where did you get those?¡±

    Kaja, her mouth full of dates, shrugged then pointed towards a stand in the bustling market square.

    Jo sighed. ¡°What did we talk about before? You can¡¯t just take things. You¡¯ll attract attention.¡±

    Kaja swallowed. ¡°No one saw,¡± she said matter-of-factly, as if that was the only issue. Jo rubbed her temples in exasperation.

    ¡°Is this why you¡¯re wanted?¡± Sakrattars asked incredulously. ¡°Stealing?¡±

    Jo ignored him, opting instead to conveniently focus on their objective. ¡°Let¡¯s go see this Gaius Praetia,¡± she said.

    *

    *

    The Dominus¡¯ mansion was located in a quiet part of Orium, far from the hustle and bustle of the lower class. In contrast to the inns, shops, and cramped apartment buildings of the city center, the upscale neighborhood featured palatial homes and immaculate pleasure gardens. Sakrattars had already caught a highborn lady discreetly eyeing the dirty hem of his robes and curling her lip at Kaja¡¯s tattered cloak. Jo mostly escaped notice for once. It was not unusual for the affluent to hire natiuhans as personal guards, after all, and as far as anyone knew Jo might be on her way to escort some noble on a business trip to Aurea.

    Two men stood guard at the gate to the Dominus¡¯ villa. They were draped not in the golden dragon sigil of the Aurean Empire but in Gaius Praetia¡¯s family colors. Their robes were steel-blue trimmed with black and silver, and the sigil upon their cloaks was a half-moon wreathed in Imperial laurels¡ªthe latter displaying that the Praetia family was an old one indeed.

    Sakrattars grabbed Jo¡¯s arm and pulled her back. ¡°We can¡¯t just walk in there. We¡¯ll have to make an appointment for an audience.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I know that,¡± she replied absently, shaking him off. He had hardly let go before she announced her intentions. ¡°Men! I¡¯m here to see the Dominus.¡±

    Sakrattars was disappointed but not surprised. Why would she start listening to him now?

    The guards exchanged bored looks. ¡°Name?¡±

    ¡°Jo.¡±

    ¡°The Dominus did not tell us to expect a visit from a natiuhan today. Nor anyone by the name of Jo.¡± The guard said.

    ¡°I¡¯m here to discuss business. Heard the Dominus is looking for something. I intend to get it back for him.¡±

    The guard was not inspired. ¡°You¡¯ll need to request an audience and come back at the specified time.¡±

    ¡°Excellent idea,¡± Sakrattars agreed. ¡°Let¡¯s make that appointment¡ª¡±

    ¡°You see, I¡¯m here now.¡± Jo stepped closer to the guard, her shadow engulfing him. The plume on his helmet scarcely reached her shoulders. ¡°And I would like to see him now.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, we cannot allow it.¡±

    Jo closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then struck the stone pillar behind the guard. He flinched as shards of rock and mortar dust bounced off his helmet with a soft plinking sound. Jo withdrew her fist.

    ¡°Looks like something happened to the Dominus¡¯ wall,¡± she said ruefully. ¡°You¡¯ll have to explain the situation when you tell him that he needs to call for a masoner.¡± She gave them a crooked grin. ¡°Of course, I¡¯d be willing to stick around if you want to do it now. You know, just in case he¡¯d like to hold me personally responsible.¡± Sakrattars heaved an exasperated sigh. So much for keeping a low profile.

    A few moments passed in silence before the second guard spoke. ¡°One moment please, ma¡¯am.¡± He said, disappearing through the gate. The one who had been treated to Jo¡¯s ¡°diplomacy¡± stood stock-still, nervously glancing between Jo and the courtyard beyond the gate. Kaja picked up a rock and tried to put it back where Jo had chipped it off the pillar. When she couldn¡¯t reach the spot, she settled on wedging it between two lower stones. She returned to Jo¡¯s side, quite confident that she had been helpful.

    The guard reappeared and beckoned the party through the gate. ¡°The Dominus will see you now. Luckily, he is a very gracious man.¡± He stressed this last point, looking severely at Jo.

    The mansion was as grand inside as it was out, filled with fine tapestries and paintings but curiously lacking in the trappings that would make it feel like a home. It was also quiet and sparsely staffed for a Dominus¡¯ household. Sometimes there would be a cowled figure, robed in Gaius Praetia¡¯s colors, standing guard outside of a locked room. They didn¡¯t move nor talk as the companions were escorted quietly by, and any expressions they may have made were hidden deep within the shadows of their hoods.

    The guard ushered them into the audience chamber and took his leave, visibly relieved to be rid of them.

    ¡°Jo the natiuhan and party,¡± the herald announced as they approached the dais. Upon it sat Gaius Praetia, a middle-aged man with graying hair and fine wrinkles around his brown eyes.

    ¡°Dom Praetia,¡± Sakrattars acknowledged, bowing his head in respect. ¡°My name is Sakrattars Mistwood. I apologize for my companion¡¯s behavior. Allow us to pay¡ª¡±

    Gaius raised a hand. ¡°If you can help me, then I will gladly consider that payment enough.¡±

    Sakrattars deepened his bow. ¡°You are as magnanimous as they say.¡±

    ¡°Sakrattars, did you say? You have the bearing of a noble, where are you from?¡±

    ¡°Arvisian Bay, Dominus,¡± he replied. ¡°We are not true nobility, though my father is a member of the Merchant¡¯s Council.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re one of Lorsan Mistwood¡¯s boys?¡± Gaius reclined back in his chair and chuckled softly. ¡°To say that he¡¯s a mere member of the Merchant Council is quite a humble way to refer to the power your family wields.¡± Jo swung her head in Sakrattars¡¯ direction. He bit his lip but did not return her gaze.

    ¡°I suppose, Dominus.¡±

    Sakrattars was grateful when Gaius turned his attention to the others. ¡°And you must be the natiuhan who chipped my wall.¡±

    ¡°The name¡¯s Jo.¡±

    ¡°Jo what?¡±

    ¡°Just Jo.¡±

    ¡°Very well,¡± Gaius said. ¡°And the girl?¡±

    ¡°Her name is Kaja,¡± Sakrattars interjected before she could open her mouth. ¡°She¡¯s my cousin. Mother¡¯s side,¡± he added hastily, cursing his incompetence at lying. It was well known that Lorsan Mistwood had no siblings, a fact that many credited with allowing him to rise to the heights of wealth and influence that he had.

    Gaius Praetia looked long and hard at Kaja. Sakrattars hoped he wouldn¡¯t question the fact that they looked nothing alike in features nor complexion, and breathed a quiet word of thanks to Pali the trickster god when the Dominus seemed willing to move on. ¡°I see,¡± Gaius said.

    ¡°We heard that you were robbed recently,¡± Jo said, ¡°and that you¡¯re offering a reward to anyone who can return the stolen items to you.¡±

    Gaius nodded. ¡°That is true. Well, partially. There is only one item that was taken: my family seal.¡±

    ¡°A seal?¡± Sakrattars repeated, his eyebrow lifting. Of all the items he could think of being stolen from an affluent household, a seal was at the bottom of the list.

    ¡°Yes, it is made of solid gold and has been in my family for generations. You can understand why I¡¯d want to see it safely returned. I¡¯m offering fifty gold pieces to whoever can retrieve it.¡±

    ¡°Do you have any idea who might have taken it?¡± Jo asked. ¡°And why?¡± Apparently Sakrattars wasn¡¯t the only one who thought it odd that a seal was all that was taken, even if it was pure gold.

    ¡°We¡¯ve already caught the thief.¡± Gaius looked beyond the party for a moment. ¡°Ah, Decanus Hjalmarsson. Perfect timing.¡±

    A man entered the chamber, either unaware of or unconcerned with the fact that the Dominus had an audience. He strolled in with a confident swagger, fingers idly twisting a lock of his beard. ¡°He isn¡¯t talking, Dominus, I¡¯m not sure¡ª¡± he stopped mid-sentence, his face beaming. ¡°A natiuhan? Now this might be just what we need!¡±

    Based on his throaty articulation of Imperial Common, Sakrattars guessed that the man must be Stjornugaardian¡ªand a long way from home. Stjornugaard was a kingdom on the northern edge of the continent, far beyond the reach of the Aurean Empire. The people who lived there were thought to be a serious and solemn bunch, a product of their long and harsh winters. But this man didn¡¯t fit the stereotype as he smiled jovially at them, a warm red glow flushing his pale ivory cheeks.

    ¡°Decanus Leif Hjalmarsson,¡± the herald introduced, annoyed that no one had waited for his announcement.

    ¡°Decanus Hjalmarsson is in my employ,¡± Gaius explained. ¡°He¡¯s tasked with interrogating the thief regarding the whereabouts of my seal. Which you have not been successful at, I take it?¡±

    Leif gave a good-natured chuckle and shrugged. ¡°He doesn¡¯t want to rat out his buyers. But he might change his mind if a natiuhan were to ask him.¡± He looked shrewdly at Jo, then proceeded to deliver the rest of his report.

    Jo spun Sakrattars around to face her. ¡°You¡¯re rich?¡± she whispered angrily. ¡°We¡¯ve been sleeping in dirt and you¡¯re rich?¡±

    ¡°You think I¡¯d be telling fortunes in the market if I was rich?¡± Sakrattars snapped back. ¡°My father is in charge of the family¡¯s wealth and we haven¡¯t spoken in years.¡±

    ¡°Well why don¡¯t you start speaking to him?¡±

    ¡°What are you saying? No!¡±

    ¡°Can we count on your assistance with the prisoner?¡± Gaius asked, addressing Jo once more.

    She cast Sakrattars one last scathing glare then turned her attention back to the dais. ¡°If I help, then can we expect that reward?¡±

    ¡°Yes, bring me my seal and it¡¯s yours.¡±

    *

    *

    ¡°You know, I¡¯ve never formally met a natiuhan before,¡± Leif said on the way to the dungeons. ¡°I¡¯d love to spar with you one day. I thought my muscles were impressive but look at yours!¡± He laughed and gave Jo a friendly punch on the shoulder, though he had to go up on his tiptoes to manage it.

    Sakrattars expected Jo to react with the usual contempt but, on the contrary, the corner of her lip turned up into a small grin.

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure you¡¯d like the outcome of that match, Decanus.¡±

    ¡°Now that¡¯s a fight I wouldn¡¯t mind losing! Just standing toe-to-toe with a natiuhan, I¡¯d be the talk of the tavern. People would buy me cold ale all night to ice my bruises.¡± He laughed again. ¡°And no need to call me ¡®Decanus¡¯, I¡¯m not in the auxilia anymore. Leif is fine. You might be surprised, though. I¡¯m no stranger to a good fight.¡± He smiled boldly, unable¡ªor unwilling¡ªto contain his bravado. ¡°I don¡¯t want to brag, but you could even say I have a reputation.¡±

    ¡°Ha!¡± Jo snorted. ¡°I like your spirit.¡± Sakrattars couldn¡¯t tell if she truly believed the boast or if she was just humoring him. Either way, this Leif fellow was beginning to grate on his nerves.

    Leif stopped outside a set of stairs leading down into the cellar of a plain, stone building. The windows were reinforced with metal bars. He glanced at Jo. ¡°Are you sure the fancy elf and the girl wouldn¡¯t rather wait outside?¡±

    ¡°Fancy elf?¡± Sakrattars exclaimed, insulted.

    ¡°Yep.¡± Leif pinched the fabric of Sakrattars¡¯ robes and rubbed the fine cloth between his fingers. He held it up as if it were a key piece of evidence. ¡°Fancy elf.¡±

    Sakrattars wrested his sleeve away, fuming. ¡°Don¡¯t call me that. And I can make my own decisions, thank you very much.¡±

    ¡°I beg your pardon, princeling,¡± he replied sarcastically, making a mockingly formal bow. Sakrattars scoffed but didn¡¯t say anything more. ¡°And what of the girl?¡±

    ¡°We go together,¡± Jo said.

    Leif shrugged then ushered them in. The dungeon was hot and humid and smelled worse than an unkept barn.

    ¡°I¡¯m back. Just like I said I would be,¡± Leif said to a young man in one of the cells, ¡°and I brought a friend.¡± Jo stepped forward, casually cracking her knuckles as she did.

    ¡°I¡¯d start talking if I were you,¡± she suggested.

    ¡°You don¡¯t scare me.¡±

    ¡°I should.¡±

    ¡°Look,¡± Leif intervened smoothly, leaning against the bars and dangling his arms through as if he and the prisoner were on familiar terms. ¡°Is your buyer really worth all this trouble? The Dominus is a good man. If you tell us what we want to know, he might even spare you.¡±

    ¡°How noble.¡±

    ¡°Open the cell,¡± Jo sighed. Leif fumbled with the key, letting the situation sink into the thief¡¯s mind. Still, he didn¡¯t speak. The key had barely turned the lock when Jo kicked the door open with a booming metallic rattle. The thief jumped before Jo hoisted him up by his collar and slammed him into the wall, his feet scrambling for purchase. ¡°You¡¯re wasting our time. That¡¯s not good for you.¡±

    ¡°Fine. Fine!¡± The thief choked, tapping on Jo¡¯s forearm. She didn¡¯t budge. ¡°His name is¡ªgah! Lucius! He¡¯s a merchant, just left¡ªjust left for Barsicum,¡± he gasped. Finally, Jo let go and he fell to his knees, clutching his throat and coughing.

    ¡°When you say ¡®just¡¯?¡±

    ¡°I mean he probably left yesterday,¡± the thief wheezed. ¡°Can¡¯t have gotten far.¡±

    Leif relocked the cell once Jo was out. ¡°Thank you, sir, for your cooperation,¡± he said.

    The young man grumbled in response.

    ¡°How are we going to find this guy?¡± Sakrattars asked. ¡°Go up the road and hope we find a merchant named Lucius?¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s what it takes,¡± Jo said.

    ¡°No, we¡¯re going to need some more help.¡± Leif grinned. ¡°And I know just the guy.¡±

    *

    *

    The sun was setting by the time they reached the Fearless Sheep tavern. Inside, it was loud and lively, filled with patrons who had just gotten off shift and were craving a drink. Kaja yawned, resisting the heaviness on her eyelids. The hustle and bustle of city life no longer shocked her but she still found it fascinating: the way people would break into song, others dancing to the rhythm, crashing into each other, beer flying, laughter blending into the noisy hum.

    ¡°We always meet here in the evening,¡± Leif called over his shoulder, expertly shoving his way through a group of people. ¡°Ah, there he is. Amale!¡±

    Sitting alone at a back table was a lycaeon. The dogfolk were a rare sight, indeed Sakrattars had never met one before. This one had mottled black, orange, and white fur, with a tuft of scruff lining the edge where his vest hugged his collarbones. Large, bat-like ears, poking up through special slits in his hood, swiveled towards Leif upon hearing his name.

    ¡°Hey Amale.¡± Leif pulled up a chair. ¡°I¡¯ve got a job.¡±

    Amale flicked an ear, bringing a bowl of beer up to his muzzle. Kaja watched, captivated, as he lapped at the drink. He noticed her from the corner of his eye, paused, then set the bowl down when it became clear that she wasn¡¯t going to stop staring. Sakrattars nudged her shoulder and shook his head in disapproval.

    ¡°You heard that Gaius Praetia¡¯s seal was stolen, right? Well we¡¯ve got a tip on who might have it now. Problem is, he¡¯s already left town. We need someone to help us track him.¡± A barmaid approached the table to take their order. Seeing her, Leif exclaimed, ¡°my goodness! I¡¯ve been told how beautiful Aurelian girls are, but I truly had no idea,¡± he marveled dramatically. Sakrattars noticed he made his accent thicker for this performance. After ordering three more beers and a grape juice for Kaja, Leif peppered in a few more canned one-liners, leaving the maid with a smile and blush as she went to fetch the order. By the time Leif turned his attention back to the conversion, Amale¡¯s ears were flattened back in annoyance and Sakrattars looked like he had just smelled something foul. Leif cleared his throat. ¡°These are the people who are coming along.¡±

    ¡°A child?¡± Amale asked dubiously, his voice unexpectedly deep and gruff.

    Leif laughed, grabbing his mug of beer from the barmaid¡¯s tray when she returned and taking a long swig. ¡°Don¡¯t underestimate her. I bet she¡¯s the toughest of all of us!¡± He winked. Amale¡¯s dark brown eyes trailed over to Kaja as she inspected her juice. She sniffed it, then took a small sip. Once the taste of fresh, sweet grapes hit her tongue, her eyes pinned and her face lit up. Amale¡¯s impassive gaze lingered on her a moment longer before turning away. He didn¡¯t appear convinced but seemed willing to let it go, so Leif continued. ¡°Her name is Kaja. The natiuhan is Jo and the elf is Sakrattars. This is Amale Inyoni, we worked together in the auxilia a couple years back and we¡¯ve been friends ever since.¡±

    Amale nodded in polite greeting. ¡°When?¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow morning. We want to catch up with this guy.¡± Leif paused, taking note of Jo¡¯s bandaged arm. ¡°That is if you¡¯re up for it?¡±

    Jo waved it off. ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡±

    A moment passed in silence as Amale¡¯s gaze moved between each member of the party. He lapped from his bowl a few more times, before setting it down and nodding.

    ¡°Great!¡± Leif downed some more beer, wiping the foam with the back of his hand. ¡°Since we¡¯re here, we might as well enjoy a few more rounds, eh?¡±

    ¡°Only if you¡¯re paying,¡± Jo said.

    ¡°Ha! Tell you what, I¡¯ll pay if you can out drink me!¡±

    Jo smiled into her mug. ¡°Better get out your purse then.¡±

    Jo and Amale had to carry Leif out of the tavern by the end of the night. He made a valiant effort, no one could dispute that, but in the end he was no match for Jo. ¡°Takes more than this swill to get a natiuhan drunk!¡± she had slurred victoriously after Leif took an ungraceful fall off his stool and landed in a heap at their feet, mumbling his way through a line from a bawdy drinking song.

    ¡°Aurelian girls are the golden-est girls . . .¡± Leif hiccuped from a puddle of spilled beer on the floor. ¡°Got the golden-est curls in the whole wide world . . .¡± Sakrattars wrinkled his nose. He was looking forward to completing the job and being rid of Leif once and for all.

    Amale led them to Leif¡¯s apartment, which was right next door to his own, and helped put his old friend to bed. That done, Amale nodded to them ¡°Tomorrow,¡± he said simply, then took his leave with a wobble in his step.

    ¡°So where are we going to go?¡± Sakrattars finally asked. Kaja sat down on the floor, leaned against the wall, and closed her eyes.

    ¡°Kaja¡¯s got the right idea, let¡¯s just stay here. We¡¯re all leaving together in the morning, right?¡± Jo said, settling down.

    ¡°We can¡¯t just stay in his apartment uninvited.¡±

    ¡°Look at him.¡± Jo gestured to the bed where Leif was snoring soundly, a stream of drool running down his cheek. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll mind.¡±

    Sakrattars shifted his weight, uncomfortable with the idea but even more uncomfortable with the thought of sleeping on the street. He found a corner of the room to bed down and didn¡¯t wake until the sunlight streamed through the window the next day.

    *

    *

    ¡°Just like old times, eh Amale?¡± Leif said, holding a hand to his head. ¡°Out on a job together, you tracking, me walking off the night before . . .¡±

    Amale¡¯s ears flattened.

    ¡°Alright, alright, I¡¯ll let you work. No need to be testy.¡±

    They were traveling down a barely-used dirt path weaving through the thick woods of northern Aurelia. Amale suspected that a merchant carrying stolen goods, especially high profile stolen goods, might not want to take the main roads. His theory had been verified by a set of fresh cart tracks on what amounted to little more than a game trail. No sane person would attempt to pull a cart through unless they were doing something illicit.

    Amale darted ahead, silently vanishing into the brush.

    ¡°So how did you three end up working together?¡± Leif asked amiably.

    ¡°Kaja is my ward,¡± Jo said. ¡°The elf is helping me.¡±

    ¡°And how old are you, girl?¡± Leif stooped down to Kaja¡¯s level.

    She looked away shyly. ¡°Forty winters.¡±

    ¡°Fourteen?¡±

    ¡°No, forty.¡±

    Leif guffawed. ¡°Forty years old she says! I like this kid.¡±

    Kaja blinked in confusion, looking at Jo for an explanation. Sakrattars pursed his lips.

    Amale reemerged from the forest. He said nothing, but fixed Leif with a look that drained the smile from the man¡¯s face.

    ¡°He found something,¡± Leif said, the mirth gone from his voice.

    Amale brought them to a tipped pull cart with goods strewn about every which way. A man was splayed face down in the dirt, blood seeping from stab wounds staining his back.

    Jo gently shielded Kaja away from the gruesome scene. ¡°Looks like someone else found Lucius,¡± she said grimly.

    ¡°Search the cart,¡± Leif ordered. But, as they expected, the Dominus¡¯ seal was nowhere to be found.

    Amale crouched down, peering at the ground. ¡°They left tracks,¡± he said. ¡°Sloppy.¡±

    As Amale led them off the trail, Sakrattars sighed, hiking up his robes and following behind. He still managed to get a hem snagged on a branch, then stumbled while wrestling himself free. Bartholomew tumbled out of his hood but Sakrattars caught him before he hit the ground. Finally, he gave up. Clutching the toad to his chest, he walked on, allowing his robes to drag through the dirt and pick up twigs.

    On the other hand, Kaja proved herself adept at slinking quickly and quietly through the dense overgrowth. Amale observed her, flicking an ear in what one could assume was approval.

    It wasn¡¯t long until they heard voices.

    Four kobolds huddled at the mouth of a shallow cave, skewered rabbits roasting over a fire. A mess of objects and scraps from previous meals littered the area. They appeared to be in the middle of a heated discussion, speaking Draconic with a strange, barking dialect. Sakrattars and Kaja listened with interest.

    ¡°Why not keep it?¡± one asked.

    ¡°Lord Bhorovane said to bring it to him,¡± another answered. ¡°He will be angry if we keep it.¡±

    ¡°He never said bring it to him,¡± the first one argued. ¡°He said to find it for him. We have found it.¡±

    ¡°I suppose . . .¡±

    Jo signaled to Sakrattars to stay with Kaja. Amale drew his bow and nocked an arrow, tip-toeing into position. Once he had line of sight, he lifted the bow and aimed. He needed to be ready in case negotiations soured. There was a sharp crack as a stick snapped in half under his hindpaw. Amale¡¯s ears immediately pinned, silently chastising himself for giving away his position.

    ¡°Did you hear that?¡± a kobold hissed, all four looking in Amale¡¯s direction.

    Leif emerged from the brush, Jo at his side. He lifted his hands. ¡°We¡¯ve come to take you back to Orium for the murder of that man, and to return the item you stole,¡± Leif said. ¡°Surrender and we can go peacefully.¡±

    The kobolds looked at each other then scrambled to grab their weapons. Leif shrugged and unsheathed his shortsword.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see now if your skill in a fight matches your confidence,¡± Jo said, tightening the strap on her cestus and shifting her stance.

    Watching the situation unfold from the bushes, Sakrattars caught an unexpected movement in the corner of his eye. Kaja raised her hand, tracing a familiar arcane symbol in the air. She pointed to a grove of trees on the opposite side of the clearing and a bawdy tavern song rang out from the foliage. Sakrattars¡¯ jaw dropped. It was one of the songs they had heard the night before in the Fearless Sheep, the one that Leif had drunkenly joined in on. ¡°Aurelian girls are the golden-est girls . . .!¡±

    Amale, his concentration broken by the unexpected noise, let loose his arrow but only managed to hit one of the kobolds in the calf. Jo charged forward, unsurprised and undeterred, leaving a baffled Leif behind. Brought back into the moment, Amale dropped his bow and drew two kukris from sheathes on his back, and disappeared once more into the brush.

    The sight of a natiuhan bearing down on them was enough to make the kobolds consider their next move carefully. With only four of them, one now wounded, it was unlikely that they could take her down.

    Then they saw Leif.

    One drew Jo¡¯s attention while the other two slipped past her. One of the two raised a dagger wet with poison. If she could nick Leif, it would be enough to incapacitate him and then use him as a hostage against the natiuhan.

    Leif saw the kobolds coming his way and planted his feet, assuming a defensive position. When the one with the dagger lunged forward, he stumbled back, raising his roundshield. The fact that it parried the kobold¡¯s blow seemed more by accident than by intention. Frustrated, the kobold swiftly dropped the dagger to her other hand, intending to slash at Leif¡¯s exposed swordarm.

    Just then, a spray of acid landed across the kobold¡¯s eyes, blinding her and forcing her to abandon her strike. She staggered backwards, trying in vain to wipe her face. Leif fumbled forward, running her through with a sloppy thrust of his sword. The second kobold, terrified, took off into the woods.

    ¡°So the fancy elf knows some magic after all,¡± Leif teased.

    Sakrattars shook his head with reproach. ¡°I didn¡¯t know the auxilia had such low standards these days.¡±

    ¡°They caught me off guard, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°Really? Because from my perspective it looks like you¡¯re still drunk from¡ª¡±

    But the retort was cut short as Amale jumped upon the kobold he had shot in the leg. He stopped her with a slash of his kukris just as she was rearing back to throw a dagger their way. He narrowed his eyes at them, his ears pinned. Chastised, Sakrattars and Leif turned away from each other.

    The last kobold, seeing his partners slain and Jo readying a strike, threw his hands up in surrender.

    ¡°Take whatever you want,¡± he croaked in Imperial Common, ¡°just let me go.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re looking for something in particular,¡± Leif said. ¡°A gold seal.¡±

    ¡°Ah yes, the shiny thing.¡± The kobold nodded towards a pile on the ground. ¡°It¡¯s in there.¡±

    Amale¡¯s eyes trailed suspiciously to the objects. He bent down to riffle through them. With everyone distracted, the kobold made a run for it.

    Amale looked up and shook his head. The seal was nowhere to be found.

    Jo pursued the fleeing kobold, grabbing the back of his tunic and lifting him off the ground. He thrashed in her grasp, his claws and tail slashing the air. He hissed then snapped, his jaws closing nowhere near Jo¡¯s arm despite his fury.

    ¡°Let me go!¡± he protested as Jo frisked him.

    ¡°Here it is!¡± she called, holding up the seal for the others to see.

    ¡°That¡¯s a relief,¡± Leif said, helping Jo to restrain the kobold. ¡°But what about the other man that was here? The singing one.¡±

    Kaja raised her hand timidly.

    ¡°That was you? How did you do that?¡±

    ¡°Magic,¡± Sakrattars said, facing Kaja. ¡°You know magic, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Kaja nodded once. Leif and Amale looked at each other in surprise.

    ¡°Well, we have the seal now,¡± Jo said. ¡°Let¡¯s get back to Orium, dump him off,¡± she motioned to the kobold, ¡°and collect our money.¡± She handed the seal to Sakrattars. ¡°Here, you hold onto this,¡±¡ªshe smiled mischievously¡ª¡°fancy elf.¡±

    Sakrattars rolled his eyes, thoroughly displeased at this new nickname. ¡°Wait,¡± he said, inspecting the seal more closely. ¡°That¡¯s odd.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me it isn¡¯t the Dominus¡¯ after all?¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s just . . .¡± He held the seal in an upturned palm and passed his other hand above it, chanting a few words. ¡°This seal has a spell on it. And not just any spell. A very powerful one.¡± Kaja stared, transfixed. She, too, could sense the magic radiating from it.

    Leif scratched his beard. ¡°Why would you need to put a spell on a seal?¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t.¡± Sakrattars shook his head. ¡°At least not for any reason I know of.¡±

    ¡°What spell is it?¡± Jo asked.

    ¡°I can¡¯t tell, it¡¯s not like any type of magic I¡¯ve ever studied.¡± A dreadful thought came over him. ¡°Could it be¡ª?¡±

    ¡°Be what?¡±

    ¡°No, no. Nevermind.¡±

    Jo looked back at Leif and Amale, both as lost as she, and shrugged. ¡°Alright then, let¡¯s just return it and get our reward.¡±

    Sakrattars gazed down at the unassuming seal. There was one type of magic he had never studied, a type of magic that had been made illegal in the Empire ever since one Emperor Neroza used it to commit atrocities against his own people in the bloody Imperial civil war six hundred years prior.

    That magic was necromancy.

    Perhaps one of the Dominus¡¯ ancestors was a practitioner and the magical aura merely lingered. It didn¡¯t mean there was anything nefarious going on. That had to be the explanation, indeed it was the only one that could possibly make sense.

    Yet, apprehension still gnawed at the edge of Sakrattars¡¯ mind.

    *

    *

    Back in Orium, Gaius Praetia was glad to have his family¡¯s seal back safe and sound. As promised, he paid them fifty gold pieces. As Jo and Amale watched the accountant weigh out the coins, Sakrattars stood with Gaius in awkward silence. Not knowing what to say, his eyes searched the room for something¡ªanything¡ªto comment on.

    ¡°That portrait is quite striking,¡± he said. ¡°The traditional dress suits you well, Dominus.¡±

    Gaius glanced up at the painting in question. ¡°I appreciate your compliment but this is my great-grandfather, Basilius Praetia.¡±

    ¡°Ah, of course.¡± Sakrattars flushed in embarrassment. ¡°There¡¯s a strong family resemblance.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯ve been told,¡± Gaius said with a small smile.

    Once Jo was satisfied that the amount had been paid in full, the party was escorted from the mansion.

    ¡°It was a true pleasure working with you.¡± Leif held his hand out. ¡°Everything they say about natiuhan warriors is true. Or at least you live up to the reputation.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not so bad yourself.¡± Jo took his hand and shook it firmly.

    ¡°Where are you off to next?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re stuck in Orium at the moment,¡± Jo said, suddenly realizing that she hadn¡¯t shown up to get her dressings changed that morning. The doctor was going to chew her out for that one. ¡°We need to earn our keep though.¡± Then an idea came to her. ¡°You¡¯re going to be looking for work now too, right? Do you know anyone who¡¯s hiring?¡±

    Leif brightened and began sharing his ideas. Sakrattars pursed his lips. He had hoped they were at the end of their partnership, but surely Leif wouldn''t follow them when they eventually left Orium. He just needed to endure it a little longer.

    *

    *

    Later that night, Sakrattars crept back into their shared room at the inn. Kaja rested in one of the two beds and Jo, too big to comfortably fit in the other, propped herself up in a corner with a blanket and pillow. Unsurprisingly, Jo was wide awake. Sometimes Sakrattars wondered if she ever slept.

    ¡°Where have you been?¡± she asked softly, careful not to wake Kaja.

    ¡°Here.¡± Sakrattars placed a small drawstring pouch in her hand. ¡°Mix a pinch into your waterskin. It¡¯ll help with the pain.¡±

    Jo paused. ¡°Where did you get this?¡±

    ¡°I harvested the bark while we were out today. I once worked at an herbalist shop and recognized the tree. Had to give some to the apothecary in order to use his pestle so don¡¯t go using it all at once.¡±

    A few moments passed with only the gentle sound of Kaja¡¯s steady breathing breaking the silence. Finally, Jo¡¯s fingers curled around the gift.

    ¡°You¡¯ve had a lot of jobs, haven¡¯t you?¡± she quipped.

    Sakrattars ignored the baiting comment, stripped to his underclothes and crawled into bed. He nestled in, Bartholomew plopping against the crook of his neck.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Jo murmured.

    Sakrattars shut his eyes.

    *

    *

    Gaius Praetia placed the seal in a vault hidden behind a tapestry in his chamber. He was about to close the door when he paused, then recited the words to a spell. A glowing aura of green, necrotic magic appeared around the seal, dripping and roiling like fell acid. Satisfied, Gaius turned the lock and tucked the key safely into a pocket. He couldn¡¯t afford any more incidents like this one. If those vile cultists had gotten their hands on it . . . well, he didn¡¯t want to think about what they could have made him do.

    In the middle of the dim room was the seal thief, tied to a chair. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, dazed from loss of blood. Gaius approached the thief, leaning down to inspect his prisoner. Why waste perfectly good souls on feeding demons, who were prone to outbursts of emotions and fits of desire, when thralls made flawless servants?

    He would never be able to understand the Irkallu; their views were simply antithetical.

    ¡°It¡¯s a shame, young man, that you got swept up in all of this,¡± Gaius mused.

    The thief opened his eyes when he felt Gaius¡¯ hand on his shoulder, his vision struggling to come into focus. The poor boy, he probably had no idea that all his actions had been carefully puppeteered from the shadows. Gaius doubted the thief even knew who the Irkallu were¡ªthey simply weren¡¯t careless enough to reveal themselves to a lowly hireling like him.

    ¡°But you see, I can¡¯t let this go unanswered,¡± Gaius continued. ¡°There is a reason Orium is so safe, so orderly. Your employers must be sent a message.¡±

    ¡°Wait, I don¡¯t¡ª¡± the thief began, but would never finish the thought.

    The last thing the thief saw was a flash of sharp fangs and then darkness eternal.

 Session 2 - Lost

    Jo slammed the mug down, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. ¡°That¡¯s another one for me!¡± she announced, tearing off a piece of brown bread and popping it into her mouth triumphantly.

    ¡°Damn!¡± Leif gasped, droplets of beer dribbling down his beard. ¡°One more?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s your funeral.¡± She shrugged.

    Sakrattars watched with a frown, nettled by the whole affair. The table was covered in discarded mugs and snacks, but the area in front of him was conspicuously clear. ¡°May I remind you that we need that money?¡± he scowled.

    ¡°Bah, I¡¯m not going to drink fifty gold¡¯s worth of beer,¡± Jo said, waving dismissively.

    ¡°You might with me.¡± Leif slapped the table and laughed, sending the plates rattling. Sakrattars rolled his eyes. ¡°Come on, fancy elf, have some fun.¡± He swung an arm around his shoulder.

    ¡°I think I¡¯ll be heading to bed,¡± Sakrattars said, brushing Leif¡¯s hand off with contempt. He¡¯d rather read over the sound of Kaja¡¯s softly trilling snores than spend another moment soberly watching Leif and Jo drink away their earnings. He rose to leave, wondering why he had ever agreed to come down in the first place¡ªthen stopped short, narrowly avoiding an elderly woman in his path.

    ¡°Pardon, ma¡¯am,¡± he apologized. When the woman didn¡¯t move, he continued uneasily, ¡°can I help you?¡±

    ¡°Excuse me, young man,¡± the woman said quietly, politely pushing past him. ¡°Dame triarius,¡± she said to Jo, ¡°are you the one who found the Dominus¡¯ seal?¡±

    Sakrattars bristled. It had been a few days since the party had returned the seal and word had spread very quickly of a natiuhan who not only tracked down the missing item, but heroically disposed of the offenders. He had heard people gossiping about it in the market and was irked when there was no mention of her equally gallant companions.

    ¡°I am,¡± Jo replied simply.

    ¡°Oh good.¡± The woman relaxed. ¡°They told me that I might be able to find you here. My name is Camilla, I was hoping you¡¯d be able to help me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s my son . . .¡± Camilla paused, her shoulders shaking. She gasped breathlessly, then swooned. Sakrattars caught her and Jo guided the elderly woman to her seat. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said once she regained her composure. Despite the summer heat, she pulled her long, woolen tunic close.

    ¡°Your son?¡± Leif prompted gently.

    Camilla nodded. ¡°Yes, his name is Astinos. He left home a few weeks ago to collect a bounty on some bandits. He hasn¡¯t returned.¡± For a moment, they thought she would be overcome again but she calmed herself.

    ¡°Was he a bounty hunter?¡± Leif asked.

    ¡°No, but he was no stranger to a fight. He used to go on all sorts of adventures with his friends.¡± Camilla smiled at the memory. ¡°But around a year ago, he came back home to live with me. Please, I¡¯m begging you to help me find him. He¡¯s the only family I have left. I will pay you, of course.¡± She reached into her pocket and pulled out a simple necklace with a gold locket. ¡°Please accept it.¡± Camilla held it out on an open palm.

    Jo looked at the necklace, her expression unreadable, then gingerly curled the old woman¡¯s gnarled fingers back around it.

    ¡°I¡¯ll find your son,¡± she said solemnly, ¡°but I can¡¯t accept that.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Camilla bit her lip. ¡°I¡¯m short on coin at the moment but if I can find a buyer at the market tomorrow¡ª¡±

    ¡°No. No payment.¡±

    Sakrattars coughed, interrupting Camilla¡¯s stammering gratitudes. They couldn¡¯t well afford to be taking jobs for free. ¡°What about the city watch?¡± he asked. ¡°Haven¡¯t they gone to search for him?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re too busy trying to keep order here, with all the robberies lately,¡± Camilla sighed dejectedly. ¡°I¡¯ve tried appealing to the Dominus but they don¡¯t have the time or men to spare right now. I¡¯d lost hope until I heard about you, and I thought that if anyone could find Astinos . . .¡± Her voice trailed off.

    ¡°Do you know where Astinos went?¡± Sakrattars pressed.

    ¡°The bounty was for a troop of bandits living in the forest northeast of here. They were causing problems on the road from Balthissica.¡±

    ¡°Sounds about right,¡± he reflected wryly. Balthissica was well-known as one of the most politically chaotic places in Calthia, a haven for raiders and other lawless folk. It was a reputation that only worsened after the recent civil war of neighboring Ascalaria further destabilized the region. ¡°Is that all you know?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so. I¡¯m sorry,¡± Camilla said, her eyes downcast. Jo rubbed her back tenderly, shooting Sakrattars an icy glare. But despite Jo¡¯s disapproval of what she no doubt interpreted as heartless disregard for an old woman¡¯s feelings, Sakrattars still had to consider the situation pragmatically. If this Astinos had been gone for weeks like his mother claimed then he was in all likelihood dead, and Sakrattars didn¡¯t like the idea of going to a dangerous place with dangerous people to look for a dead man. Especially not for free.

    ¡°Go home and get some rest,¡± Leif urged, squeezing Camilla¡¯s hand sympathetically. ¡°We¡¯ll leave in the morning to find your son.¡±

    Sakrattars pursed his lips. Yet in the end he¡¯d have to go with, of course. There was no other option. If they didn¡¯t return¡ªspecifically, if Kaja didn¡¯t return¡ªthen he would be missing out on his big academic chance.

    *

    *

    The day was bright and clear, with blue skies and radiant sun. A refreshing breeze kissed the trees and rustled the tall grasses, carrying with it the faint smell of blooming flowers and freshly cut fields. But the beautiful weather couldn¡¯t distract Sakrattars from the anxiety churning away in his gut.

    The road to Balthissica was one of rolling hills, vast farmland, and sparse forest. Though it was once a major thoroughfare a hundred years ago, the road was rarely used by simple travelers anymore. Indeed, its current use was mainly in the occasional export of Imperial troops from Aurelia, though there were no troops on the road today. The sense of solitude and tranquility only set Sakrattars further on edge.

    ¡°I met Amale in Balthissica,¡± Leif said, feeling the need to fill the lull with conversation. ¡°We both served in the auxilia there a few years back. Dirty business.¡± He shook his head, his easy-going smile hardening at the memory. Amale made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a sniff, one of his ears flicking twice. When it was clear that he wasn¡¯t going to add anything else to the story, Leif continued. ¡°Dirty business,¡± he repeated. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you ever made it out there?¡±

    ¡°No, never did,¡± Jo replied. ¡°The Empire mostly commissioned my Oceteya for Datharia.¡± Sakrattars perked at this. If Jo had been enrolled in an Oceteya, schools that taught young natiuhans the traditional art of war, then her warrior¡¯s dress and hairstyle were not just for show. But this merely deepened Jo¡¯s mystery. If she was truly a member of this famously respected, but infamously rigid, order of warriors, then the fact that she was now acting on her own as Kaja¡¯s guardian was even more puzzling. Natiuhan warriors never acted alone. They were hardly ever seen alone.

    Leif was simpler. Sharing exactly none of Sakrattars¡¯ uncertainties, he whistled, impressed by such a casual admission of greatness. ¡°Gods. Must have been wild out there,¡± he marveled. ¡°It doesn¡¯t surprise me that the Emperor would want nothing less than natiuhan warriors up there though, with the orcs and the ferix always causing trouble.¡± Leif paused, twisting a lock of his beard thoughtfully. ¡°Come to think of it, I¡¯ve heard that an orcish warlord has been sweeping the Steppes, recruiting the strong and killing the rest. Hasn¡¯t turned his sights on Datharia yet but I¡¯m sure the Emperor isn¡¯t too happy with it. Bet your buddies at the Oceteya are going to have their hands full.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know anything about it,¡± Jo shrugged. Sakrattars squinted, waiting for an elaboration that never came. Mysteries upon mysteries.

    ¡°Well, come on now!¡± Leif laughed, clapping a hand on Jo¡¯s back. ¡°I bet you¡¯ve got tons of stories to share with us!¡±

    Losing interest in war stories, Sakrattars turned his attention to Kaja. He had come to learn that throwing sounds was not the only magic trick she could do. She could freeze her food with a gentle breath, and sometimes the condensation on her cup would turn to frost after she held it. He came to the conclusion that she must have a natural ice affinity. It was reminiscent of the stories he read about dragons; both white dragons and silver dragons were said to wield ice magic. Unfortunately, his attempts to get Kaja to help him understand left much to be desired. She either didn¡¯t understand his questions, or was unwilling to answer them. Perhaps a little of both.

    ¡°So if we run into trouble out here . . .¡± Sakrattars started in Draconic, encouraging Kaja to finish his sentence.

    ¡°I use magic,¡± Kaja mumbled unenthusiastically. She tugged at her hood, uncomfortable in the heat but unable to risk exposing her horns.

    ¡°Yes. Just like when you freeze your food.¡±

    ¡°But I don¡¯t want to freeze people.¡±

    ¡°No one does,¡± Sakrattars said, ¡°but it could be helpful if you need to protect yourself.¡±

    Kaja lowered her gaze, the hood hiding her face. ¡°I don¡¯t want to.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean you don¡¯t want to? You may have to.¡±

    This time Kaja didn¡¯t reply at all. Sakrattars sighed. At the first sign of danger, Jo would assign him to watch her and then it would be up to him to defend her. If she already knew magic, why was she so resistant to using it? Was he expecting too much of her?

    Amale raised a paw, signaling the party to halt. He inspected a game trail leading off the road and sniffed the air, catching a scent on the breeze. They were close. Veering into a grove, Amale combed the path for traps while Jo brought up the rear looking out for a possible ambush. By the time the road was out of sight, Sakrattars noticed that the world had gone quiet. Birds didn¡¯t chirp, insects didn¡¯t buzz. An eerie shiver traveled up his spine.

    Before long, the companions came upon a cluster of crude huts built within the mossy ruins of ancient walls and cracked foundations.

    ¡°This looks like a Balthissican-campaign era outpost,¡± Sakrattars commented, trying in vain to get a better look at the stonework. He frowned when he saw that someone had chipped away at the faded remains of a mosaic bearing the Imperial golden dragon. ¡°Some people have no respect for history,¡± he huffed.

    ¡°I¡¯m more worried about the houses,¡± Leif said. ¡°What are there? Five? Six?¡±

    ¡°Only one fire.¡± Amale pointed to a single wisp of smoke rising from a gap in the roof of one of the huts. ¡°Wait here.¡± Without a sound, he crept forward into the campsite. His ears were raised, swiveling this way and that. He closed his eyes, his nose twitching and bushy tail swaying as he processed the information his senses were giving him. He looked back to where the rest of the party was lying in wait and made a few curt gestures.

    ¡°Only one guy,¡± Leif whispered, interpreting the signal. ¡°Everyone else must be out.¡±

    ¡°Then we better hurry before they come back,¡± Jo urged, standing up.

    ¡°Remember: we need him alive,¡± Sakrattars reminded her.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. You just be sure to draw his attention.¡±

    Sakrattars¡¯ jaw dropped open. ¡°M-me?¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not going to ask Kaja to do it.¡±

    ¡°I can do it,¡± Kaja whispered helpfully.

    ¡°No, no,¡± Sakrattars said, ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡± Kaja had already shown him up once before, and his pride wasn¡¯t going to allow it to happen again.

    The lone bandit, an elf, was seated on a log, one hand holding up his chin and the other lazily nursing a large stew pot over the campfire. But despite his unguarded manner, his weapons were propped up within reach.

    Sakrattars slowly made his way to the opposite side of the camp, pushing increasingly irate assessments of the damage being done to the millennium old ruins out of his mind. What was he going to do to distract the bandit? Ten years of schooling at the University of Barsicum and he was reduced to conjuring up distractions! It would all be worth it, he assured himself, once he published his study on the zmaj¡ªpossibly the first of its kind. But first, he had to focus.

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Alright Bartholomew, this is where you come in,¡± he said, placing the toad on the ground with a wet plop. Bartholomew blinked one yellow eye then the other. ¡°Go on, then!¡± Sakrattars goaded. Bartholomew hopped forward clumsily. He was now within the bandit¡¯s sight. It was a genius plan, who would suspect a toad hopping through a grove?

    Then Bartholomew stopped abruptly, turning his head to one side.

    ¡°No, no, no,¡± Sakrattars whispered desperately. ¡°Bartholomew! Keep going! Bartholomew!¡± But it was no use, his familiar was captivated by some insect wiggling in the detritus. He struck out with his fleshy, pink tongue, missing once then twice. As Sakrattars watched helplessly, he spotted Jo across the campsite gesturing angrily at him. Frustrated, he stood up, back to the tree trunk, and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

    ¡°Help me, brother!¡± he cried out in Elvish, feeling foolish as he did so. ¡°Help me!¡±

    The elf raised his head, confused, but by the time he thought to grab his weapon, Jo was already upon him. She twisted his arm behind his back and pinned him to the ground while Leif bound his hands together.

    Jo scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s your idea of a distraction?¡±

    ¡°It worked, didn¡¯t it?¡± Sakrattars retorted defensively.

    ¡°You can take whatever you want, just let me go,¡± the elf begged from beneath Leif¡¯s knee. His voice had the light, airy accent characteristic of elves from Aurea.

    ¡°We don¡¯t want your stolen goods,¡± Jo said, picking the elf up off the ground and onto his feet. ¡°We¡¯re looking for someone.¡±

    The elf discreetly tested the rope but couldn¡¯t wrestle free.

    ¡°I¡¯m from Stjornugaard, I learned to tie sailing knots before I could walk.¡± Leif chuckled. ¡°I¡¯d love to see you get out of that.¡±

    The bandit scowled. ¡°What makes you think I know this person you¡¯re looking for?¡±

    ¡°He came by not too long ago looking for bounties. A human from Orium by the name of Astinos,¡± Sakrattars said. The elf glared at him.

    ¡°Never heard of him, brother,¡± he sneered. ¡°We run into a lot of those types.¡±

    ¡°Too bad.¡± Jo shrugged. ¡°We only needed you alive to help find him. We can still collect the bounty on you if you¡¯re dead.¡±

    At this, the elf hesitated. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know the names of everyone who comes looking for us. Too many to remember.¡±

    ¡°This man would have been alone. Unusual, correct?¡± Sakrattars asked.

    ¡°Not as unusual as you might think. But¡±¡ªthe bandit added hastily when Jo stepped closer¡ª¡°but, we have a place. A place where we . . . dispose of things.¡±

    ¡°Dispose of people, you mean,¡± Leif corrected darkly. Kaja gripped Sakrattars¡¯ robes, unsettled by the direction the conversation was taking.

    ¡°If you want to call it that,¡± the elf said. ¡°If you let me go, I can show you where.¡±

    Jo pushed him forward. ¡°Show us and we¡¯ll consider it.¡±

    The bandit grudgingly led the party through the grove to a small cave in one of the limestone hills. They couldn¡¯t see far past the jagged mouth but there appeared to be a gentle slope followed by a steep drop off into darkness.

    ¡°This is the place,¡± the bandit announced.

    Sakrattars peered into the mouth, watching water droplets run down hanging vines and glistening stalactites. The stone was dangerously slick.

    ¡°We¡¯ll need to go in,¡± Jo said.

    Sakrattars glanced at her in surprise. ¡°Why? Look at the slope, no one could crawl back out without help.¡±

    ¡°I told Camilla I¡¯d find her son and I intend to do so.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no way he¡¯s alive, Jo.¡±

    ¡°You better listen to your friend,¡± the bandit interjected. ¡°Although if you want to get yourself killed then I suppose I don¡¯t mind.¡±

    ¡°Shut it!¡± Jo gave the rope a quick tug and the bandit stumbled backwards.

    ¡°I can secure a rope here so we can climb out,¡± Leif suggested, already scouting the area for suitable anchor points. Sakrattars still didn¡¯t like the plan but he knew any further protest would just fall on deaf ears.

    Once the escape ropes were in place and tested, the bandit spoke up again. ¡°I showed you the place, keep your end of the deal.¡± He bumped his wrists against the small of his back.

    ¡°You¡¯re coming with us,¡± Jo said sternly. ¡°One whiff of a trap and you¡¯re gone.¡±

    The elf gulped, looking at her and then down into the cave. ¡°There¡¯s no trap,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s dangerous enough without them.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? Well now you get to experience what your victims felt. Come on,¡± Jo said, picking the elf up bodily and throwing him over her shoulder¡ªto his surprise and dismay.

    One at a time they rappelled down the ropes. The drop off wasn¡¯t as dramatic as it had appeared on the outside but it would still trap the unfortunate if they didn¡¯t have the proper equipment. Upon reaching the bottom, Kaja gave a strangled gasp, clutching Sakrattars¡¯ robes and backing away from the darkness beyond.

    ¡°What, what¡¯s wrong?¡± he asked. He reached into a pocket, thumbing a smooth quartz and mumbling a few words of magic. Four glowing orbs flickered to life around him, the red light illuminating a grisly scene of death.

    Skeletons, many still swathed in cheap leather armor or tattered clothes, lined the sides of the cave¡ªpoor souls that did not survive the fall or died of their injuries while waiting in vain for someone to rescue them. Sakrattars stayed with Kaja while the others set to the grim task of searching the bodies. Fortunately, none of the corpses matched the description that Camilla had provided them.

    ¡°By Orvim, look at this,¡± Leif gasped in wonder, lifting up a one-handed battle axe. He wiped the grime away to reveal a soft blue glow emanating from the fine metal.

    ¡°It¡¯s magical,¡± Sakrattars confirmed upon examination.

    ¡°What does it do?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure, perhaps it¡¯s just luminous.¡±

    Leif admired the weapon, trying out a few test swings. ¡°I like this axe.¡±

    ¡°He won¡¯t need it anymore,¡± Amale said gruffly, gesturing to the decaying skeleton of the former owner. Leif looked somewhat put off by the comment but neither did he want to just leave such a fine weapon to rot. He placed the axe against the skeleton¡¯s chest for a moment and whispered a prayer of last respects, before lifting it and hurrying after his companions.

    As they journeyed further into the cave, the passage opened up until finally they reached a large cavernous chamber. It was eerily silent, with the occasional rhythmic drip of water the only sound to accompany the party¡¯s shuffling footfalls. The still air was so chilly that Amale drew up his hood and rubbed his arms, his short, coarse fur providing little protection against the cold.

    ¡°Whoever you¡¯re looking for can¡¯t have made it this far,¡± the bandit pleaded nervously. He had been reluctantly stumbling along ever since Jo placed him back down, often needing a rough prod or a shove to keep him walking. ¡°Maybe he wasn¡¯t even here in the first place. Maybe you got the wrong information.¡±

    ¡°Quiet!¡± Jo snapped.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Kaja asked softly, pointing into the darkness beyond the magical orb¡¯s glow.

    ¡°Where?¡± Sakrattars squinted. As an elf, he was accustomed to having the best night vision in any given group. But even with his sharp eyesight, he couldn¡¯t see what Kaja was looking at.

    Sakrattars sent one of the orbs to probe ahead, with the party moving cautiously behind it. Within moments, it became clear what Kaja had seen. In the shelter of a group of stalagmites, glowing ominously in the crimson light, was a lump of cloth and what appeared to be a pack.

    Yet, Sakrattars¡¯ first thought was of Kaja. Her vision was remarkable, comparable to the underground-dwelling kobolds¡ªor their dragon relatives.

    But before he could process his discovery further, a sharp yelp reverberated off the walls.

    Amale was floating off the ground, being drawn up towards the ceiling by a seemingly invisible force. He cried out as he struggled to free himself from the strange, silk-like binding that had ensnared him. In the sudden confusion, the bandit yanked the rope out of Jo¡¯s hand and ran frantically back the way they had come, disappearing beyond the light. He didn¡¯t get far before the party heard his terrified scream from the darkness.

    Jo grabbed Amale, trying to pull him back down; but the other side kept reeling in the line, turning Amale into the unwilling object in a tug of war match. He whined in fear and panic.

    ¡°Cut the line!¡± Leif yelled, desperately reaching up to grab his friend.

    ¡°Can¡¯t . . . reach it!¡± Jo said, her voice straining. She wasn¡¯t used to something being as strong as she was, and she did not like it.

    Amale twisted, trying to reach for one of the many knives tucked away in his clothing, but the binding held him fast. He couldn¡¯t move. He looked up just as the light of one of the orbs illuminated what had captured him. His eyes widened and he yelped in terror.

    Without warning, a gust of freezing snow shot past the companions. Kaja clenched a fist and the line instantly rimed over, then exploded into dozens of frozen shards that fell to the ground in a sparkling cascade, gleaming like embers in the magical red light. Jo caught Amale, cutting him free from the remaining webbing, while Sakrattars expanded the orbs¡¯ radius to search for the hidden assailant.

    To their horror, a giant scorpion-like creature was clinging to the ceiling above them. A second one was scuttling away into a crevice, the unlucky bandit in its clutches.

    With its lure cut, the creature descended the walls with frightening speed and charged the party. Without a moment of hesitation, Jo jumped between everyone else and the beast, grabbing one of its claws and bringing down a fist onto its head. Its carapace was tough and deflected the blow, however, and although Jo¡¯s cestus protected her hand from the brunt of the impact, she still winced with pain. She could feel the skin around her arrow wound straining and threatening to reopen. She wouldn¡¯t be able to hold it back for long.

    Then it retaliated, its other claw latching around her ankle. She growled ferociously as it yanked her¡ªhard¡ªtrying to upend her on the slippery rock. If it got her on her back, those razor-sharp mandibles would make short work of her.

    Leif rushed forward with a yell and landed a strike with his new axe. A sound like wet timber hitting stone echoed through the chamber. The beast released Jo and lunged a claw toward Leif¡ªwho managed to raise his shield just in time to hear it thunk loudly off the wood. Knocked back by the blow, he fell to the ground with a curse. Scuttling impossibly fast, the beast was on him in moments, its ready mandibles gleaming in the red light of the orbs.

    But just when he thought he¡¯d met his end, an arrow whizzed past Leif¡¯s head and sank deep into the exposed flesh around the creature¡¯s mouth. It recoiled back with an angry hiss. Leif stumbled, trying to regain his footing and raise his shield at the same time. He accomplished neither particularly well.

    ¡°Aim for the joints!¡± Amale barked, reaching for another arrow. Leif didn¡¯t need to be told twice. He swung his axe again, this time at one of the creature¡¯s spindly legs, but by doing so he unbalanced himself on the slick floor and fell to his knees. Jo¡¯s cestus-clad fist slammed into the back of the axe head with a metallic clang, driving the blade deep into the joint. There was a sickening crunch followed by a loud chittering as blue blood spattered onto the cave floor. The beast broke free from Jo¡¯s grasp, retreating into the darkness. It crawled up the wall and disappeared into a narrow crack.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s coming back,¡± Sakrattars sighed in relief. Amale placed a paw on Kaja¡¯s shoulder, nodding a silent thank you. She smiled back timidly.

    The danger gone, the party was able to inspect the remains. There wasn¡¯t a body but the cloak and the pack matched Astinos¡¯. Leif opened the bag, looking for anything that might help explain what happened. It contained what one would expect to see: rations that were long since spoiled, a medicine kit, flint. Then he spotted a folded paper. As Leif drew it out, a ring fell, clattering onto the stone. Kaja picked it up and examined it by the light.

    Leif unfolded the paper, eyes scanning the page. His expression turned somber.

    ¡°What does it say?¡± Sakrattars asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s addressed to someone named Lucretia in Barsicum, dated three weeks ago,¡± Leif said, clearing his throat before he went on to read the note aloud. ¡°¡®I¡¯ve found myself injured and alone with no hope of rescue. It¡¯s only a matter of time before they find me so I fear I will not survive this. My dearest Lucretia, I understand and I¡¯m sorry.¡¯¡± He paused as the weight of the words sunk in. ¡°Astinos must have been an extraordinary man to last that long alone,¡± he marveled quietly.

    ¡°He survived the fall. He survived down here but no one came to help in time.¡± Jo thought of Camilla, waiting for them in Orium for news of her son who would never come home. ¡°Damn it!¡± she swore.

    ¡°He knew those monsters were hunting him but he couldn¡¯t escape,¡± Sakrattars murmured, imagining with a shudder the horror that Astinos must have felt in his final days. Without the ability to see in the dark, he¡¯d have been surrounded by hidden predators, his only company the hissing chitters they uttered while hunting him. Sakratters shivered.

    Kaja closed her fingers around the ring in her palm, her expression a mix of sadness and regret. But there was something else there too, something Sakrattars could swear looked like guilt.

    *

    *

    Camilla listened to the party¡¯s story, sitting motionless in a wooden chair with a thin, knit blanket spread across her lap. The companions crowded her small apartment, which consisted of little more than a central room and kitchen with a bedroom hidden behind a drape nailed to the doorway. When they finished their tale, the corners of Camilla¡¯s lips turned up in a sad smile, her gray-blue eyes distant and unfocused.

    ¡°I knew something must have happened.¡± She shook her head. ¡°He was such a devoted boy, he would never leave without telling me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m truly sorry.¡± Leif held Camilla¡¯s hand in his own. He offered her the note. ¡°This is the last thing Astinos wrote.¡±

    Camilla opened it and read, tears filling the soft creases of her crow¡¯s feet. Kaja gently placed the ring in her lap. The old woman trembled as she picked it up. ¡°Lucretia was his childhood friend, and later one of his traveling partners. There were two others too . . .¡± She closed her eyes wistfully. ¡°Ah yes, their names were Bandrigan and Feriel. He would talk about them all the time when they were young and finding their way in the world. Astinos¡¯ heart belonged to Lucretia. She should be the one to keep the ring and his letter.¡± Camilla tucked the ring into the paper and folded it back up. ¡°I know you¡¯ve already done so much but could I ask you to see that Lucretia gets this?¡±

    Jo and Sakrattars exchanged looks. Lucretia was all the way back in Barsicum¡ªthey would need to abandon their current plan of heading to Aurea and backtrack if they accepted. Kaja lightly touched Jo¡¯s arm and nodded.

    ¡°We will.¡± Jo took back the letter.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Camilla suddenly looked very tired. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I wish to be alone now.¡±

    Leif squeezed the woman¡¯s hand one more time and then got up to leave.

    The companions walked together through the humid night, their eyes fixed on the cobblestones, each one lost in their own thoughts. The streets of Orium were deserted save for the occasional carouser or dog nosing through scraps just outside of the warm glow of the oil lamps. One of the Dominus¡¯ personal guards picked up someone who had engaged in too much merriment and hauled him off to the dungeon to sober up. Though dark, the air was still hot and thick and more stifling than usual.

    Jo broke the silence. ¡°You don¡¯t need to come with us,¡± she said, looking over at Leif and Amale.

    ¡°We know,¡± Leif said quietly. Amale said nothing, but glanced her way, both ears pointed directly at her. Jo nodded in understanding.

    No one else spoke after that.

    Since it was so late and the mood far too heavy for the usual drinking games, the companions went their separate ways. Kaja tossed and turned in bed, listening as Jo¡¯s then Sakrattars¡¯ breathing became soft and regular. Unable to sleep, she propped herself up against the headboard and stared at the ceiling, watching the shadows dance in the moonlight. What were Astinos¡¯ thoughts in the end? What were his regrets? Kaja allowed these questions to plague her, keeping her from sleep and tightening the painful twist she felt in her chest. Finally, she slid down, pulled the blanket up over her head, and forced her eyes shut.

    That night, for the first time in many months, she dreamt of home.

 Session 2.5 - A Look Back: Jo and Kaja

    Jo padded along, her large, furry paws gliding effortlessly atop the snow. She hadn¡¯t found a meal all morning and was beginning to get as discouraged as she was hungry. Winter was always difficult; many of the animals hibernated for weeks on end and the ones who stayed active would only come out for brief periods to forage. If she didn¡¯t catch them during that time, she would have to go without.

    The sun was positioned high in the sky when Jo finally caught a whiff of something enticing. She paused and sniffed the ground. The snow had been dug away to expose the frozen foliage underneath, the twigs stripped bare of their bark. Mountain deer, down in the lowlands in search of food¡ªand they had passed through recently. Feeling the faintest hope teasing her rumbling belly, Jo continued onward.

    A branch snapped, piercing the silence, then another and another. Jo raised her head, ears swiveled forward. A herd of deer burst out from the bushes, eyes bulging and sides heaving, too panicked to realize they were running towards a sabercat. Jo froze, stunned, as they tore by, her hunger momentarily forgotten. She had lived in the Goldenwoods for years and had never seen deer behave that way before. Ears alert and nose twitching, she waited for whatever was pursuing the deer to emerge and face her. Yet nothing came forth and Jo was left alone in the muted tranquility of the snow-covered forest.

    Following the path of destruction that the deer had left in their wake, Jo picked up an unfamiliar scent wrapped within the lingering aroma left behind by the frightened animals. Her ears stood at attention, her every footfall was slow and deliberate. Slinking through the undergrowth, she soon came upon a small glade. A peculiar layer of thick ice, rippling from a central point, carpeted the ground and unnaturally large icicles weighed down the branches above. Amidst this odd crystalline cocoon lay a small, lifeless shape.

    Jo thought it was a human child at first, clad in strange clothes that looked more appropriate for summer than winter. Puzzled, she waited and watched. But when the child didn¡¯t move, she approached for a closer look. That was when Jo realized that she hadn¡¯t found a human at all. In fact, she had never seen a person like this child before.

    She looked very much like a thin, human girl but with long, white hair, which was a most unusual color for a young human to have. She was laying on her stomach, her head to one side, her eyes closed and jaw slack. Four twisted horns protruded from her head and she had a lizard-like tail covered in white scales and fins. For a moment, Jo thought she was partially buried in snow but soon discovered that the ¡°snow¡± was actually a smattering of tiny white scales across her cream-colored skin.

    Jo investigated the surrounding area for signs of anyone else, possibly the girl¡¯s parents, but there was only one set of footprints left in the snow. The prints themselves were long and irregular as if the child had been struggling to drag herself forward when she finally collapsed.

    Jo circled back and examined the girl once more. She was alive but wouldn¡¯t be much longer without help. Out of options and unwilling to leave her to die, Jo positioned the girl across her back and made a long and careful journey home.

    *

    *

    One evening several days later, she stirred for the first time.

    ¡°You¡¯re finally awake, huh?¡± Jo said. She had no way of knowing if the girl could understand Imperial Common but since the Goldenwoods technically lay within the borders of the Aurean Empire, she figured it was a good place to start. She adjusted the warm furs cloaking her shoulders and gave a pot of simmering stew a hearty stir. ¡°You were out for a few days there. I¡¯d recommend some hot food.¡±

    Jo spooned some of the stew into a wooden bowl and stood to deliver the meal, but was taken aback by violent thrashing as the girl struggled to throw off the pelts. ¡°Hey! Keep those on! You¡¯ll freeze!¡± she scolded, reaching out a hand in concern. To her shock, the girl growled and bared her teeth like an animal. Her deep blue eyes flashed dangerously, the pupils long, narrow slits. They were unlike any eyes Jo had ever seen.

    Jo withdrew her hand and stepped away, conscious that the girl was watching her every move, scanning for threats. She was more than twice the girl¡¯s size but she was hoping that they could come to a peaceful understanding. She didn¡¯t want to have to resort to force and frighten her even more than she clearly already was.

    The girl¡¯s wary gaze slipped past Jo, settling on the campfire churning pleasantly behind her. She let out a sudden shriek and began flailing, still trapped in the interlocking web of blankets that Jo had swaddled her in. Afraid that she was going to injure herself if she continued, Jo knelt down beside her, wondering how she was going to free the girl without getting attacked in the process.

    ¡°Settle down, I won¡¯t hurt you,¡± Jo said gently. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± She slowly moved a hand towards a corner of one of the blankets, tugging lightly to loosen it from the bunch.

    Reacting to the movement, the girl lashed out again, this time breaking free from her imprisonment. But in her weakened, half-starved state, the girl couldn¡¯t keep up her panic for long and collapsed. Jo instinctively reached out to touch her, to bring some comfort, but thought better of it and instead rested her arm on a knee, curling her fingers into a fist. This girl must have been through something terrible.

    ¡°Look, I won¡¯t hurt you,¡± she repeated softly. The girl stared at her, sides heaving. Jo had seen the exact same expression before in a cornered rabbit¡ªa creature terrified that each passing moment would be its last. ¡°It¡¯s alright, you don¡¯t need to be afraid,¡± she coaxed, hoping that the girl would understand her intentions through her tone if not her words.

    Once the girl relaxed a little, Jo brought the bowl of food around to show her. The girl saw it and paused, smacking her lips like a hungry dog. Jo slowly set the bowl down on the ground and backed up carefully. Only once Jo had retreated to the other side of the camp did the girl sniff at the food. She went to touch it and instantly recoiled her hand, shooting Jo a betrayed glare.

    ¡°It¡¯ll warm you up,¡± Jo said as she spooned out her own portion. ¡°Go on, eat it before it¡¯s cold.¡± But despite her encouragement and all her best efforts, the girl did not eat. When Jo finished her meal, the girl hadn¡¯t even tasted hers.

    Jo sighed and bent down to retrieve the untouched food but was stopped by a throaty growl. The girl lunged forward and grabbed the bowl away. After sampling it, she started wolfing it down voraciously. Steam had long since ceased to rise from the bowl, and the stew was probably cold and unpleasant by then, but the girl either didn¡¯t notice or didn¡¯t care. Jo didn¡¯t understand what was happening but was grateful that the girl was eating all the same. She reached into her breast pocket and touched a small, crudely-carved figurine of a cat, offering a silent prayer to thank Melcuni for protecting the girl¡¯s life.

    *

    *

    A few days passed after the girl had awoken and they had fallen into a sort of routine. Jo would go out hunting, half expecting her guest to be gone when she returned, only to find the girl patiently waiting for her every time. The girl had gotten used to the campfire but still didn¡¯t like being near it so Jo would do all of the cooking, delivering the girl her food in the nest she had made on the outskirts of camp. Then the girl would set the bowl in the snow and eat it once it had partially rimed over with frost. As always, Jo was just happy she was eating at all.

    Jo posed some light questions, asking the girl for her name or where she had come from, but she hadn¡¯t received any responses. Fortunately, despite their lack of understanding, the girl had become less aggressive, no longer growling or trying to bite at the slightest misstep.

    The more time passed, the more Jo was certain that this strange girl couldn¡¯t speak Imperial Common at all. When she thought about it, she wasn¡¯t even sure if the Goldenwoods had any Imperial settlements beyond the odd hermit or herbalist¡¯s cabin. If the girl wasn¡¯t an Imperial though, then where had she come from? For once in her life Jo wished she had been as studious as her older sister, Cucoa¡ªthen maybe she¡¯d know what this girl was or a language they could communicate in.

    One night, Jo woke to the snapping of twigs. A pair of shining eyes skulked about just outside the light of the dying fire.

    ¡°I can help you if you let me,¡± Jo said quietly. The eyes remained still for a moment and then turned towards the shadowy forest beyond.

    That morning, to her surprise, Jo found that the girl had returned to camp and was sitting in the center of a pile of wood she presumably collected during the night. One of Jo¡¯s knives was discarded to the side, deemed too cumbersome. Rather, she wielded a sharpened antler and was hard at work carving out a stick. By the end of the day, the girl had fashioned a crude blowgun.

    The weeks went by and Jo was growing fond of her silent guest. After years of living alone, she liked having someone around¡ªeven if that someone was unsociable.

    That was why, when she woke up one morning, she immediately noticed that the girl was gone.

    ¡°Kid?¡± Jo called. ¡°Hey, kid!¡± She got up to search but the camp was empty. Her heart sank.

    Just when Jo was giving up ever seeing her again, there was a rustling in the brush. She looked up hopefully and the elation at seeing the girl swiftly eased her worried mind. ¡°Where were you? You scared me,¡± she sighed in relief.

    The girl held up a small rabbit, pierced through the neck with a dart. Jo blinked, staring stupidly down at the animal until she realized that the girl was offering it to her. ¡°Nice shot.¡± She grinned. For the first time the girl smiled, a timid expression where the corners of her lips turned up ever so softly. Jo took the precious gift, her heart soaring at the breakthrough.

    ¡°We should share it,¡± she said as she unsheathed her knife. The girl sat nearby and watched quietly. Once Jo had finished preparing breakfast, she placed the girl¡¯s portion in the snow. ¡°Cold, just like you like,¡± she said, turning away.

    ¡°Kaja.¡±

    Jo jumped, startled by the unexpected sound. ¡°Did you . . .¡±

    The girl stared down shyly as if transfixed by her own feet. ¡°My name is Kaja.¡±

    *

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    *

    The days got longer and the snow started to thaw. Kaja had been offering information, little by little, speaking broken Imperial Common with a thick accent. She called herself a ¡°zmaj¡± and came from a place she called ¡°Skolka¡±, but would get anxious when Jo asked about it. She had some talent in magic: she could freeze objects by blowing on them, and throw sounds to distract prey during a hunt. Jo knew close to nothing about magic but this little girl wielded it so naturally that she wondered why some people dedicated their lives to its study. When Jo asked how old she was, Kaja thought for a moment.

    ¡°Forty winters,¡± she finally replied.

    Jo furrowed her brow, certain that something got lost in translation.

    One day, Kaja came back to camp after a morning out and touched Jo¡¯s arm, tugging gently to get her to follow. Jo let the girl lead her down a familiar path, a knot forming in her stomach as she began to suspect where they were headed. She drew a deep breath as Kaja stopped and pointed to a pile of carefully stacked stones tucked away in the shadow of a great evergreen. The snow had melted away just enough to reveal the moss that had taken hold of the cairn¡¯s surface. Kaja knelt down next to it.

    ¡°What is?¡± she asked, touching the stone tenderly.

    ¡°It¡¯s a grave.¡±

    ¡°Grave?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± When it was clear that Kaja didn¡¯t understand, Jo continued, ¡°we build them when someone dies so Melcuni can find their soul and guide them to the afterlife.¡±

    ¡°Who has died?¡±

    Jo took another breath before answering. ¡°My son. Icuhua.¡± Kaja didn¡¯t respond right away so Jo kept talking to fill the uncomfortable lull. ¡°He didn¡¯t live long. A few hours maybe.¡± She paused, painful memories bubbling to the surface, cutting just as deep as they did when they were formed. She swallowed, then finished her thought with a crackling voice. ¡°This place isn¡¯t exactly forgiving.¡±

    Listening, Kaja stared at the stones wistfully, her face laden with sorrow. Jo soon got the sense that she could no longer see the grave, that she was lost deep within her own memories¡ªthe ones that kept her awake tossing and turning at night. Although Kaja hadn¡¯t told her details about what haunted her, Jo understood, understood far too well, and now she could see that Kaja knew. They stayed in emotional silence, each drawing comfort and strength from the other¡¯s presence as they shared the burden of their grief.

    Jo composed herself enough to speak again. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go back.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s sad,¡± Kaja whispered, the words catching in her throat, ¡°to lose people.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Jo murmured back, resting a hand on her shoulder, ¡°it is.¡±

    *

    *

    One spring morning, Jo was passing by the grave when something caught her eye. A single blue flower had been carefully laid upon it and, although the day was sunny and warm, the petals were rimed in white frost.

    *

    *

    A scream called Jo to action. Operating on pure instinct, she leapt forward, morphing into her beast form in one fluid motion. Tearing through the overgrowth, she spotted Kaja on the ground with a bear towering over her. Jo jumped between them and roared. The bear¡¯s two small cubs squealed, running the opposite direction. Jo pursued them to draw the mother away from Kaja.

    Once she felt like she had led it a safe distance away, she climbed up an especially large tree, the thick branches groaning under her weight. There she waited until the bear settled down and wandered off with its family. Jo jumped down from her perch, shaking out her fur. That¡¯s when she saw Kaja stepping cautiously towards her. Jo stared at her for a few moments, contemplating what she should do. She hadn¡¯t expected Kaja to follow her.

    ¡°Jo?¡±

    The big cat froze.

    It was the first time Kaja had called her by her name.

    *

    *

    It was mid-spring and the days were getting warmer and the nights rainier. Kaja would need lighter clothing so Jo was curing a pelt to make a child-sized tunic. The young zmaj sat down beside her, wringing her hands. It was clear she wanted to say something but Jo knew better than to push the matter and so continued her work in silence.

    ¡°My home,¡± Kaja started after collecting her thoughts, ¡°Skolka . . .¡±

    Jo stopped scraping and put the pelt down. ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± she said.

    The words, long pent up inside of her, began pouring from Kaja¡¯s mouth. ¡°It¡¯s gone. Something happened. There was smoke and¡ªand fire. I¡ªI think they¡¯re gone.¡±

    ¡°An accident?¡±

    ¡°No. Attack. They were attacked.¡± Kaja¡¯s eyes welled with tears. ¡°Where do I go when home is gone?¡±

    Jo¡¯s chest tightened. ¡°Are you the only one who got away?¡±

    A nod and a sniffle.

    ¡°Do you know who attacked you?¡±

    Kaja tucked her legs up to her chest, hiding her face in her knees. She shook her head.

    Jo sat down next to her. ¡°You know you can stay with me as long as you want to,¡± she said, ¡°or I can go back with you. Maybe someone survived and is looking for you¡ª¡±

    Kaja jerked her head up, her face ashen. ¡°N-no! I don¡¯t want to go back.¡±

    ¡°Do your people have other villages?¡±

    ¡°Yes . . . there are others,¡± Kaja replied slowly, wiping away the tears from her cheeks. ¡°I don¡¯t know where.¡±

    Jo set her jaw. She had been all over eastern Calthia and had never heard of any such creature called a zmaj. But someone out there had to know.

    ¡°Here¡¯s what we¡¯ll do.¡± She stood up and grabbed the pelt she had been working on. ¡°We¡¯ll get more of these. When we have enough, we¡¯ll go to the Imperial cities. They keep lots of records.¡± A glimmer of hope dawned on Kaja¡¯s face, encouraging Jo to continue. ¡°We sell the pelts and buy some traveling goods. Then we¡¯ll search high and low until we find the other villages. I¡¯ll be with you the whole time so you don¡¯t have to be scared.¡± She paused, her eyes resting on the small, wool blanket that had been Kaja¡¯s ever since Jo brought her to camp and wrapped her up in it. ¡°But we¡¯ll need to conceal your horns. And your tail and scales too. Humans and elves . . . they make a big fuss over things like that.¡± She draped the blanket over Kaja¡¯s head and, with some folding and re-positioning, fashioned it into a sort of cloak. It was crude but it would work until they could get something better.

    ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll find them?¡± Kaja asked, peeking out from under the hood.

    ¡°Of course we will!¡± Jo flashed a confident smile. ¡°But for now, we have a lot of work to do.¡±

    *

    *

    It was a quiet evening in late spring when it happened.

    Kaja suddenly awoke and jumped up from her bed pile, her eyes wide with terror and all color drained from her face. She stared into the woods, her breathing heavy with panic. Jo was confused but not entirely surprised. Kaja hadn¡¯t had one of those episodes for weeks but she knew it was something that never truly went away.

    But before Jo could get out any words of comfort, she felt it too.

    Jo, former natiuhan warrior and battle-scarred veteran, did not scare easily. She had stared death straight in the eyes more times than she could count and never wavered once. Now, she felt a wave of fear so primal, so powerful, that it squeezed her heart and clouded her mind. Every muscle, every sinew, every part of her was screaming one thing:

    Run.

    Yet outwardly everything was as it was; the forest was quiet and still, the fire crackled and popped. They both knew better though. Something very dangerous was out there and it was close.

    ¡°It¡¯s them . . .¡± Kaja whispered, shaking.

    Jo shut her eyes, willing her body to move. Kaja needed her now more than ever and she was paralyzed with fright, ineffective, worthless. She thought of everyone she had left behind, all the people she had ever let down. She thought of the little grave in the woods . . .

    And then determination overpowered fear.

    Breaking free of the spell, Jo gathered all the hides and furs she could and clumsily stuffed them into a large sack. She strapped the bulging pack around Kaja¡¯s small, trembling body. ¡°We¡¯re leaving. Now.¡± She splashed water onto the fire. Kaja, hunched under the weight of the furs, rapidly scanned the forest. The calm, restful darkness now felt alive with terror, filled with whispered threats from an approaching unknown.

    ¡°Get on,¡± Jo instructed, ¡°stay low and hold on tight.¡± Kaja nodded and Jo assumed her beast form.

    They fled into the night, never once looking back out of fear of what they would see.

    Far above, an insidious shadow slithered across the moon¡¯s surface, staining its silver light with the color of blood.

    *

    *

    It was as if the shadows around Jo¡¯s camp came alive. Cloaked and hooded figures swept through the campsite, overturning blankets, kicking over baskets, searching everywhere they could find. Growls of frustration rose among them as their search produced no results.

    A tall man stood in the middle of the camp, looking around as the others wrecked the place. He shook his head. ¡°They got away.¡±

    ¡°Only just, Lord Alistair,¡± one of the others said, turning over the wet ashes of the fire to expose a few embers clinging to life underneath. ¡°We missed them by a few hours, at most.¡±

    A deep, unnatural chill settled over the clearing and the cloaked men visibly shuddered. Out of the shadows emerged another figure, his outline shifting and shimmering like dark, shallow water. He was robed and hooded like the rest but also wore a simple metal mask, featureless save for two narrow eye-slits. When he spoke, his voice was unexpectedly soothing¡ªalmost hypnotic¡ªin nature. It made the metallic resonance from his mask all the more unsettling.

    ¡°Where is she?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not here,¡± Alistair replied gruffly.

    The masked man scoffed. ¡°You lost her.¡±

    Alistair narrowed his eyes. ¡°You left her alive in the first place. Did you stop to gorge your host body on sweetmeats while the child fled?¡±

    There was a clap of thunder and hailstones rained down from the sky as the masked man seethed, his shadowy form swelling to twice its size as his anger flared, then reduced again as he regained control. The weather cleared just as suddenly as it had turned. ¡°Had your trackers been more astute, they¡¯d have found her trail sooner.¡± He spoke with two voices now, blended eerily together. The men exchanged worried glances. The second voice was soft yet deep, grating like a great stone being dragged across hard granite.

    ¡°And had you kept yourself and your . . . friends¡±¡ªAlistair looked behind the masked man, where three pairs of glowing, red eyes stared menacingly back at him¡ª¡°away, and let us handle things, they may not have gone. I bet the girl sensed you long before we got here.¡± The fell hounds melted out of the shadows, circling around their masked master, hoping for a command that would allow them to tear the impudent words straight from Alistair¡¯s throat. As they came closer, their forms became more solid, more corporeal.

    The masked man shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re off the hunt, Alistair, you and your band will report back to the fortress and focus on your other operations.¡± His head tipped back to the sky, the red light of the eclipsed moon reflecting off his mask. His voices quivered with relish. ¡°I will find her myself.¡±

    Alistair clenched his fists. A chance to show his value to their mutual master had slipped from his grasp. The masked man turned and walked away, his three hounds following at his heel. He vanished into shadow long before reaching the darkness of the forest.

    Alistair turned to one of the others, a woman clad in furs and coal-stained leather, bearing a crossbow slung across her back. The black wolf at her side had been snarling softly at the shadow hounds. ¡°Yvette. Contact Benjamin in Orium. Tell him to meet us in Barsicum. I have a task for him.¡±

    Yvette¡¯s voice was deep, her words clipped and formal. It had all the warmth of a cold grave. ¡°Alistair, he and his group are keeping an eye on Astinos for us. What if Lucretia returns to him and¡ª¡±

    Alistair sighed. ¡°Yes, yes, we¡¯ll have to find Lucretia first. Sometimes I think the Master only uses us for running errands.¡±

    ¡°Hunting his enemies is important. Besides, I don¡¯t think Benjamin and the rest will be busy for long. Luring out Astinos should be simple. Even for that lot.¡±

    Alistair glanced at Yvette. He didn¡¯t speak yet the message was clear: they could not afford another failure.

 Session 3 - Fallen

    The sun had only just risen, yet the air burned with the oppressive heat of summer days in Aurelia. Kaja swayed miserably, looking as if she might pass out at any moment. She fumbled with her cloak and hood, but knew better than to remove it. Sakrattars handed her his fan and sidled closer to the temple steps, desperate for the meager shade they provided. There was nothing else that could be done without revealing her decidedly non-human nature. They would have to hope it would be cooler on the road than it was in town.

    ¡°Over here!¡± Leif waved. He approached with a friendly grin on his face and a travel pack slung over his shoulder. Behind him was Amale, who wore a sleeveless tunic, looking the most comfortable of them all in the sweltering heat. Leif wiped a stream of sweat from his brow. ¡°This way,¡± he said.

    The party wound through Orium¡¯s largest marketplace, a maze of crowded stalls clustered at the foot of the temple to Aegis, patron goddess of Aurelia. A modest-sized but lavishly gilded statue of her towered over the scene, where farmers haggled with customers over the prices of eggs or bartered away onion baskets in exchange for cloth.

    ¡°Here we are,¡± Leif announced, gesturing to a line of wagons parked on the side of the road. Using his connections, he was able to secure a spot for the party in a small caravan bound for Barsicum. There were a few initial misgivings by the merchants but once Leif had explained that it was a mutually beneficial arrangement, they ultimately conceded. Of course, it had certainly smoothed negotiations when he mentioned that one of the party members was a natiuhan warrior.

    The merchants, rubbing the sleep from their eyes, concentrated on overseeing the workers loading the last of their goods into the wagons, carefully counting to make sure everything was present and secured. Nearby, hired guards leaned against posts where their horses were tethered, whittling away the time until departure. Some checked their saddlebags or examined their weapons, others stretched or paced in bored circles. One man broke away from the bustle to greet the party.

    ¡°Remus!¡± Leif greeted him amicably. ¡°Good to see you.¡±

    Remus smiled politely but passed him by to get to Jo without a pause in his step. ¡°So you¡¯re the natiuhan,¡± he marveled. ¡°I¡¯ve never had the pleasure to work with one before. I won¡¯t have anything to worry about with you around,¡± he chuckled. ¡°As you can see, my regular guards are a bit lacking.¡± He jerked a thumb in their direction. Sakrattars looked over to see one of the guards yawning.

    ¡°I see,¡± Jo replied, uninterested.

    ¡°Here, why don¡¯t you put your pack in this wagon.¡± Remus shoved a few sacks out of the way to make room. ¡°The child can ride in here too and maybe one more of you.¡± He leered at Jo, a twinkle in his eye. ¡°Come, let¡¯s have you up by me. I¡¯ll be driving.¡±

    Humoring him, Jo followed and watched as he struggled to climb onto the driver¡¯s seat. She was about to offer to lift him up, just to see the look on his face, but Leif had worked hard to get them here and she wasn¡¯t about to spoil it for a bit of fun.

    The pair of draft horses, who had been standing in relaxed boredom all morning, suddenly tensed when Jo got near. They snorted and trembled, their eyes bulging. Remus, confused by their sudden change in mood, cooed soft words to calm them but the horses were having none of it.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think they like me very much,¡± Jo said, smiling wryly. She was having a bit of fun after all.

    ¡°Nonsense, they don¡¯t mind strangers,¡± Remus said, though judging by their behavior, Jo was clearly an exception. He shook his head in disbelief. Ultimately, he had no choice but to let Jo bring up the rear, dashing his hopes of being seen personally escorted into Barsicum by a natiuhan warrior¡ªsomething only high status Imperials could typically boast of. As they made their final preparations to leave Orium, Remus¡¯ bubbly enthusiasm soured and he became sulky and moody.

    The day was uneventful from then on. Kaja leaned over the edge of the wagon and let the countryside roll by. When she grew tired of the scenery, she tossed Bartholomew a beetle larva and watched the toad¡¯s clumsily attempts at hunting. He gulped at the larva repeatedly, but succeeded only in moistening the floor of the cart with his wet, pink tongue. Kaja glanced up to see if Sakrattars would scold her for overfeeding him but he wasn¡¯t paying her any mind. He had more pressing things to focus on.

    His nose buried deep in a book, Sakrattars was becoming increasingly frustrated at his inability to get a fire spell just right. He would recite the incantation, only to be disappointed when nothing happened and he was forced to consult the book again. One mis-cast had accidentally set the corner of a jute sack on fire but he managed to extinguish it before anyone noticed. He shifted the goods around to hide the charred section, then returned to his studying.

    Jo, Leif, and Amale brought up the rear on foot, listening to Leif¡¯s endless adventurous tales and harrowing war stories. Jo doubted that any of them were even close to being true, a theory that was reinforced by Amale¡¯s unimpressed side-eye and flicking ear.

    They camped for the night at the side of the road, circling the wagons before stretching out on their bedrolls. The night was muggy and windless, and only Amale and Jo seemed to be able to tolerate the heat, snoring peacefully while everyone else was restless and miserable. Kaja settled down with difficulty, but at last her eyes closed.

    She awoke with a start in the middle of the night. Though moonless, the sky was still filled with stars. The guard on watch idly poked the glowing embers of the fire; another stood by the horses, dozing peacefully against a tree.

    Kaja laid her head back down, trying without success to dismiss the feeling that had woken her¡ªthe feeling of being watched.

    The second day of travel was just as dull as the first. Sakrattars fanned himself with his book, wishing that the wagons were covered so he could get out of the sun. Even Bartholomew sought comfort in the sparse shade underneath a stack of crates and wouldn¡¯t come out for anything.

    As the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, the whole caravan breathed a collective sigh of relief. Everyone was hot, thirsty, and desperate for a good rest at the upcoming inn.

    The inns were a common sight along the main roads in Aurelia, spaced so no one would have to go more than a day or two¡¯s travel without a safe place to rest. Small but well-kept, this one cast welcoming orange light onto the dark road beyond. The clink of crockery and the sound of laughter promised a night of hot food and relaxation.

    A meal and some beer did wonders to revitalize the travel-weary crew, and the companions and the caravan guards stayed up to drink and socialize long after the merchants went to bed.

    After a few mugs, Leif managed to cajole Jo into an arm-wrestling contest. Following his urges to ¡°not go easy¡± on him, Jo ended their match in the same moment it began, slamming Leif¡¯s arm down effortlessly within full view of the entire tavern. Leif yelped in surprise as the force of her movement knocked him right off his chair, sending his mug of beer flying. He came out laughing and soaked. ¡°Hah! Did everyone see that? That¡¯s what happens when you challenge someone who bested a jungle bear!¡±

    Sakrattars scoffed. ¡°There¡¯s no such thing as a¡ªugh!¡± He recoiled in disgust as Leif stumbled into him in a drunken haze, smearing his robes with spilled beer.

    ¡°That¡¯s right: a mighty jungle bear!¡± Leif slurred, swinging a damp arm around Sakrattars¡¯ shoulders and yanking the irritated elf into an awkward embrace. Sakrattars shoved uselessly at his teetering bulk but he didn¡¯t seem to notice. ¡°No shame in losing to someone like that but a lot of glory to be had in winning!¡±

    This captured the attention of several of the guards and even a few other patrons who weren¡¯t there with the caravan. It wasn¡¯t long before a betting pool had been set up and Jo was roped into a series of contests against all who dared to take her on. Whoever lost had to buy drinks for all the participants. Though Leif wasn¡¯t technically participating, he still ended up with a full mug after each round.

    In the end, Jo was undefeated and everyone went to bed late, completely worn out and dreading waking up early the next morning.

    *

    *

    It was the middle of the night when Kaja was awakened, this time by a soft scratching noise. She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes, glancing over at Jo¡¯s soundly sleeping form. When her eyes adjusted, she saw a small figure huddled in the far corner of the room. Thinking someone was there, Kaja quickly got up for her cloak but immediately knew that something wasn¡¯t quite right. The creaky floorboards were silent and the room looked distorted, light and shadow undulating together in irregular waves. Kaja looked back to the bed and gasped.

    She saw herself, curled up sleeping, her head cradled on the pillow.

    She reached out and touched her sleeping body in disbelief. Was this a dream?

    Scratch, scratch.

    Kaja turned. In her confusion, she had almost forgotten why she had awoken in the first place. The figure, more visible now, appeared to be a very young and frail child wrapped in tattered clothes. It was hunched over, intently focused on the floor.

    ¡°Hello?¡± Kaja whispered. The child looked up, its face hidden behind a plain mask with dark, hollow eyes. Rather than fear, Kaja felt a wave of sadness. The child waited for a few moments but when Kaja didn¡¯t say or do anything more, it turned its attention back to the floor board, scratching at the wood¡¯s surface with a thin, bony finger.

    Kaja knelt down beside the child and examined the board. To her surprise, it wasn¡¯t nailed down. She gently moved the board aside and peered underneath. At first she didn¡¯t see anything, but just as she was considering giving up, she spotted a small, crudely-made doll hidden in a dark nook thick with cobwebs. The child reached out silently, hands grasping. Readjusting her position, Kaja snaked her hand under the floor and grabbed the doll.

    Small body quivering with excitement, the child eagerly took the doll from Kaja and held it close, their joy at being reunited with their beloved toy so palpable that it was infectious. The child tugged at the hem of Kaja¡¯s dress and held out an emaciated hand, the skin pale, almost translucent.

    When the child pressed something into Kaja¡¯s palm, she woke up in bed, the soft light of dawn streaming in through the windows.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re up,¡± Jo said as she gathered their things. ¡°Any longer and I was going to have to wake you.¡±

    Kaja shielded her eyes from the sunlight and yawned, then noticed that she was holding a small locket on a chain. She tried to unhook the locket¡¯s clasp but it was rusted shut. Was the visitor last night real? Kaja inspected the floorboard where the child had been trying to get their doll. The board was nailed in place, with no evidence of having been disturbed.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Jo asked.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± Kaja replied quietly. After a brief moment of contemplation, she fastened the chain around her neck.

    As they were leaving the room, Kaja found a small piece of paper on the ground. Thinking that it might have to do with the mysterious child and the locket, she picked it up and unfolded it. Her Imperial Common still wasn¡¯t very good and she struggled to read the words, but it was short and to the point:

    Leave the caravan. There¡¯s a spy among them.

    It wasn¡¯t related to the child at all. Someone must have slipped it under the door sometime during the night.

    ¡°Come on, Kaja, let¡¯s go,¡± Jo called from the hallway.

    Kaja read the note one more time, then folded it back up and stuck it into her pocket. They couldn¡¯t leave the caravan now, not when they were this close to Barsicum.

    It was another scorching hot day on the dusty road. Remus complained from the driver¡¯s seat, dabbing his forehead with his handkerchief every chance he got, moaning about the uncomfortable bed at the inn and hoping that they would reach Barsicum by nightfall so he would be spared another itchy, straw mattress. Despite the incessant chatter, Sakrattars tried his best to concentrate on reading.

    ¡°Sakrattars, what¡¯s a spy?¡± Kaja asked as the caravan bumped and rolled through a grove of trees.

    Sakrattars sighed and closed the book. ¡°A spy? Hmm.¡± He struggled to recall the word for it in Draconic. ¡°It¡¯s someone who watches you.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Kaja rested her chin in her hands.

    He turned back to his book, but an unsettling tingle coursed through his body. ¡°Why? Where did you hear that word?¡±

    Before Kaja could respond, there was a tremendous crash from ahead of them. The sound of cracking wood and squealing horses nearly drowned out the guards¡¯ voices as they raised the alarm.

    ¡°Ambush!¡±

    The guards wheeled their horses around as a swarm of kobolds came pouring out of the surrounding woods. With the first wagon stuck in a pit trap with a broken axle, the rest of the wagons were effectively sitting ducks. Horses reared and screamed. The wagon drivers tried to veer off-road to get around the obstruction, but only succeeded in tangling themselves up more. Remus turned back to face Kaja and Sakrattars in a panic.

    ¡°Go!¡± he cried, attempting to get off the cart. ¡°Get to¡ª¡± An arrow pierced his neck, cutting off his words, and he toppled over, gurgling and choking. Kaja gasped, holding her hands to her mouth in terror as Remus reached out to her one last time.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± Jo yelled, waving to them to jump off the wagon. ¡°We need to get out of here!¡±

    ¡°We need to help them!¡± Leif shouted back, his axe and shield at the ready.

    ¡°Are you crazy?¡± Sakrattars exclaimed.

    Leif growled in frustration. ¡°You¡¯re a cowardly elf!¡±

    Sakrattars turned to the others, clutching his book in one hand and Bartholomew in the other. ¡°Let¡¯s leave him,¡± he said resolutely.

    Jo grabbed Leif¡¯s shoulder and spun him around. ¡°The ¡®cowardly elf¡¯ is right. We need to get Kaja to safety.¡± Leif was going to argue, but one look at Kaja¡¯s terrified face was enough to convince him. He nodded reluctantly.

    The companions escaped into the surrounding woods but they didn¡¯t get far before they spotted more kobolds patrolling the area. Amale, ears alert and nose twitching, gestured to a ditch in the shadow of a fallen tree. Everyone dove behind it, holding their breath. The kobolds circled the battlefield, chattering in Draconic while they waited for an opportunity to move in and plunder. Clasped in their taloned hands were crude crossbows and daggers lashed to long sticks. The party watched as a badly wounded guard raised his own crossbow, surprising the kobolds by sending a bolt through one of their legs. Hissing and cursing, the others peppered the guard¡¯s body with shots. He jerked at each impact, and then was still.

    After excruciating minutes that felt like hours, the din of battle softened, the screaming and groaning quieted, and the horrible sound of butchery faded away. In the eerie silence that remained, Kaja heard a faint, unintelligible whisper. Confused, she looked around at her companions but they were all focused on the situation at hand. When she didn¡¯t hear it again, she peered over the log.

    Kobolds shuffled around the wagons, tearing into crates and ripping open sacks. Squabbles broke out over who would get to keep what. Some of the kobolds stood watch for any survivors, dispatching them as necessary. To the party¡¯s surprise, one of the caravan guards was still alive. Kaja recognized him as the one who had been stirring the embers when she awoke a few nights before. He limped after a hooded figure dressed in a long, black cloak.

    ¡°I did what you asked,¡± the guard said. ¡°I told you everything.¡±

    ¡°The girl isn¡¯t here,¡± the hooded figure replied, his voice cold with a metallic timbre.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care. You owe me my payment¡ªplus more for my damned leg!¡± he complained, a kobold bolt sticking out of his calf. ¡°And if I don¡¯t get every coin, I¡¯ll¡ª¡±

    The figure suddenly spun around and drove a dagger through the guard¡¯s gut. A second dagger sliced the traitor¡¯s throat. His body slumped to the ground and the figure kicked it away with disappointment and disgust.

    Then Kaja heard the whispers again. The hooded figure lifted his head, revealing a featureless metal mask with narrow eye slits. The whispers grew louder. Kaja¡¯s heart pounded. She instinctively clutched the locket around her neck. The hooded figure looked in the direction of the party, scanning the woods carefully. Kaja let out a sigh of relief when he was interrupted by a kobold.

    ¡°Sir,¡± the kobold barked, ¡°the knife lady has been giving us trouble in the woods.¡±

    The hooded figure¡¯s gaze lingered on the spot where the party was hiding for another moment before he turned to the kobold. ¡°What would Bhorovane say, knowing that you couldn¡¯t handle a lone skirmisher?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s Lord Bhorovane!¡± the kobold snarled, although her voice now sounded a bit uncertain. ¡°And it¡¯s not our fault. The knife lady wears the blue.¡±

    This got the hooded figure¡¯s full attention. ¡°Show me.¡±

    Leif grinded his teeth. ¡°They¡¯re all dead. We couldn¡¯t do anything to help them.¡±

    ¡°If we had stayed, we would be too,¡± Amale murmured. Though his words were pragmatic, his tone suggested he was feeling the same regret.

    ¡°It¡¯s too dangerous to approach the road again,¡± Sakrattars said. ¡°We¡¯re only a couple of hours from Barsicum. If we can reach the city I think we¡¯ll be safe. And if this ¡®knife lady¡¯ has their attention, we can use that to our advantage.¡±

    Jo nodded and put her hand on Leif¡¯s shoulder. ¡°There¡¯s nothing more we can do. They¡¯re with Melcuni now.¡± As the party melted back into the trees, Leif lingered a moment longer. His steel-blue eyes scanned the battlefield, his jaw clenched in barely suppressed frustration. He turned briskly and followed his companions.

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    With Amale in the lead as their scout, the party made their way through the woods, continuing until the remains of the caravan were no longer in sight. Just when it appeared that they might pull off their getaway, they came across the overgrown, crumbled ruins of an ancient cottage. Amale crouched, holding up a paw, and everyone stopped in their tracks.

    An elf dressed in padded armor and a navy blue tabard was facing off against a kobold, with a dead kobold laying at their feet. The pair circled each other in tense anticipation, both waiting for their opponent to make a mistake. When the kobold finally thrust their pike forward, the elf dodged the attack and closed the gap faster than the blink of an eye. She made two precision cuts with her daggers and the kobold dropped the pike and crumpled to the ground.

    ¡°She must be the knife lady,¡± Leif whispered, ¡°but where did she come from? She doesn¡¯t look familiar.¡±

    ¡°Shh,¡± Sakrattars hushed, ¡°look there.¡±

    The mysterious hooded figure from before, escorted by a group of four kobolds, was fast approaching the knife lady¡¯s position. The elf was occupied with wiping the blood off her daggers, seemingly unaware of the danger she was still in.

    ¡°We can¡¯t let them harm her,¡± Leif said. ¡°If we ambush them, we should be able to take them out.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s five of them and four of us. And Kaja,¡± Sakrattars added as an afterthought. ¡°It¡¯s too risky, we should just go around while they distract one another.¡±

    ¡°And just leave her to die too?¡± Leif huffed.

    ¡°She¡¯s not our concern.¡±

    ¡°Unbelievable! You¡¯re no coward, you¡¯re craven.¡±

    ¡°Stop,¡± Amale growled sharply. ¡°Look.¡± The knife lady had disappeared. The hooded figure and his entourage now entered the stone ruins, coming dangerously close to where the companions were hiding. Some of the kobolds sported new weapons, stolen from the slain caravaneers. Reptile-skin pouches at their belts swung heavily, laden with newly obtained coins.

    One kobold paused a few paces from them. She turned in a circle slowly, sniffing.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go back,¡± Sakrattars whispered nervously.

    ¡°If we move, they¡¯ll spot us,¡± Amale answered. ¡°We need to hide and wait, or fight.¡±

    Jo tightened her cestus and flexed her hand. ¡°I¡¯d rather strike first than wait to be found.¡± Leif¡¯s face brightened and Sakrattars¡¯ fell. Kaja gripped the locket but her silent apprehension went unnoticed. Once the nearest kobold moved off, Leif and Amale crept through the undergrowth to the flanks, slowly surrounding them.

    When everyone was ready, Jo rustled the bushes. One of the kobolds signaled to the others to investigate. The hooded figure followed. The kobolds were so close now that Jo could see individual scales on their armored bodies and smell their pungent breath. Nearby, Amale mimicked a bird call. That was their sign.

    Jo and Leif burst forth swinging fist and axe, causing the kobolds to jump back in alarm. Sakrattars readied a spell, shielding Kaja behind his body. Amale dashed to a better vantage point and nocked an arrow, analyzing the fight for an opening to shoot.

    But something was off. The hooded figure didn¡¯t act surprised or move to defend himself. Rather, he stared straight through the battle at Kaja.

    ¡°There you are,¡± he said, unnervingly calm. He parted his cloak and drew his daggers. The forest dimmed unnaturally as a sliver of darkness partially eclipsed the sun¡¯s light. The birds fell silent, and a chill breeze rustled through the treetops with a loud whisper. Kaja shook with terror, her eyes widening in recognition. A palpable surge of fear emanated from the hooded figure, crashing against the unsuspecting party like a wave.

    Startled and shaken, Amale let loose his arrow. The hooded figure¡¯s form wavered and jolted, a shadowy mist pouring from the joints of his armor. The arrow sailed through the space the man had occupied a moment before. The shadowy mist coalesced nearby, his form returning.

    Ignoring the ineffectual attack and moving impossibly fast, the man snaked his way through Leif, Jo, and the kobolds, his eerie metal mask never once turning away from his target. He seemed to jolt and dart through reality, discorporating into shadowy vapor to pass through trees and circumvent the struggling fighters, only to re-form once the obstacle was passed. Before Sakrattars could even register the man¡¯s approach, he had already bypassed him and was face to face with Kaja.

    ¡°I know who you are¡±¡ªthe hooded figure¡¯s voice cracked into two: one of a man and one ancient and malevolent¡ª¡°little zmaj.¡±

    Sakrattars splashed a wave of magical acid at the assailant, but he twirled away, black cloak billowing. ¡°Kaja, go!¡±

    Kaja willed her legs to move but she was frozen in place, watching in horror as Sakrattars fought back with his spells. Only after the hooded figure¡¯s metal gaze focused on Sakrattars was Kaja able to run and hide. She crawled under a dense bush and peered through the leafy branches, trying to catch her breath. Fear washed over her like a mighty river; it felt as if she were being crushed into the damp earth.

    Another arrow sailed past the shadow man, sticking harmlessly into a tree. Amale gritted his teeth and ducked back into cover, his shaking paws fumbling with his quiver. Every time an arrow or attack got close, the man¡¯s body dissolved, the swirling shadows darting to the side and out of harm¡¯s way. He laughed contemptuously.

    Sakrattars swiped forward, magical fire streaming from his fingertips, but the shadow man swung his cloak around, the thick wool repelling the spell in an explosion of embers. He vaulted over Sakrattars¡¯ head, jumping much higher than any being of his stature should have been able. Amale emerged from cover, a fresh arrow nocked, only to see that his target had disappeared.

    The shadow man descended behind Amale, readying a strike in midair. He turned his head towards Kaja and, although his face was obscured by the mask, she felt their eyes make contact. He not only knew where she was hiding, he wanted to be certain that she was watching. It seemed as if they were both suspended in time¡ªhis cloak rippling gracefully, her breath catching in her throat¡ªas they stared at one another.

    Kaja opened her mouth to force Amale¡¯s name out. Her heart thudded against her chest. She would be too late. Why couldn¡¯t she say anything? Why was she never able to save anyone . . .

    Amale¡¯s ears suddenly swiveled back as his instincts guided him in evading the shadow man¡¯s attack. He dropped his bow and drew his kukris to repel the furious assault. The kukris found only air as the man dodged, phasing through trees and occasionally through Amale himself, only to appear behind him for a vicious, closed-fisted strike. Discouraged and frightened, Amale faltered and one of the enemy¡¯s daggers met its mark on his forearm. He let out a sharp yelp as his kukri clattered to the ground. The man laughed again. He could have landed a deadly strike at any time, but he was enjoying the fear and pain far too much to end the game so soon.

    Running on pure adrenaline and fear for Amale¡¯s life, Kaja burst forth from her hiding place. ¡°Stop!¡± she cried.

    The moment she was exposed, the shadow man swirled away from Amale and re-formed in front of Kaja. She skidded to a halt and screamed, cowering from a blow she anticipated was coming.

    But one never came.

    A gust of air whipped at her cloak as Jo bull-rushed the man, forcing him to abandon his strike as he turned to vapor, letting her pass through him without effect. Jo positioned herself between him and Kaja, swinging her fist down onto his head. His form jolted again, disappearing and reappearing in the blink of an eye as Jo¡¯s attack passed harmlessly through him. In the same motion, he swirled through her and slashed her calf from behind. Jo spun on her heels, intending to bring her elbow down on him, but he was too quick and twisted away, raking the point of his dagger along her ribs as he did.

    Kaja shut her eyes, her thoughts a chaotic jumble of panic and guilt. Jo was fighting for her, bleeding for her. She could die. They could all die.

    The shadow man drew back, preparing for another attack. Jo assumed a defensive stance, her skin glistening with sweat, blood, and dust. Amale, clutching a kukri in his remaining good hand, stood back to back with Leif. Jeering kobolds surrounded them, taking experimental swipes, probing for weaknesses. Leif narrowly deflected the blows with his shield, but they were being slowly hammered into a corner of the ruins. Trapped.

    Sakrattars, meanwhile, had noticed a pattern. The man¡¯s form turned to mist and shadow any time someone struck him, but he never landed his own blows in that state. So just before making an attack, he had to be solid. Otherwise his strike would just pass right through his enemy. Sakrattars drew a shaking breath. He hoped he was right. If he wasn¡¯t . . .

    Banishing doubt from his mind, Sakrattars studied the man¡¯s movements as he struggled against Jo.

    There.

    In the instant before the man¡¯s dagger slashed across Jo¡¯s ribs again, Sakrattars hit his forearm with a shot of magical acid. It sizzled and hissed, quickly burning through his darkened leather vambrace. Howling in pain and fury, the man recoiled and clutched his arm. Taking advantage of the opening, Jo gave him a two-handed shove and he slid backwards, panting and flickering as he tried to register what had just happened.

    Kaja set her jaw. This was all happening because of her and she wasn¡¯t going to let it go without a fight.

    Not this time.

    Driven by some horrible mix of fear and anger, Kaja lunged forward and clenched the man¡¯s wrist in a tight fist. He shrieked, a horrible inhuman sound distorted by the metallic echo of his mask. He thrashed as the flesh of his arm froze solid under a rime of shimmering white frost, but Kaja refused to let go, pouring all of her arcane energy into the attack.

    Seizing the opportunity, Jo sunk her fist deep into the writhing man¡¯s gut. He fell over, blinking in and out of existence, bleeding darkness in roiling waves. His mask slid off and crashed to the ground, revealing the quivering, tortured face of a human man underneath. He shifted rapidly through expressions and emotions, often showing two or three at once¡ªthe ghostly images superimposed on one another. Laughing, screaming, weeping, ecstatic, furious, terrified.

    The icy magic crept up his arm, as if the frost were devouring him alive. He struggled weakly, giving a final shudder before he went rigid. A black mist spewed forth from his mouth and spiraled into the sky. A fell storm roared into existence as hailstones burst from the gray clouds, pelting the stunned companions.

    Seeing this, the kobolds panicked. They threw down their stolen weapons, fleeing into the undergrowth. They turned to look over their shoulders as they fled¡ªbut it was not the party they seemed to fear. It was that dark mist swirling in the sky. The companions, too, stared at this aberration above them, confused and speechless.

    A strange yearning tugged at Kaja¡¯s heart. The mist exuded a magnetic pull, inexplicably drawing her in, urging her to pursue it through the clouds. She fell to her knees, her head thrown back, her eyes rolling uncontrollably. One thought consumed her mind: her prey was escaping.

    ¡°Kaja?¡± Jo shook her, trying to break the trance. ¡°Kaja!¡±

    But Kaja could no longer hear. A frightful presence clawed at her chest as if her body was its prison. It longed to chase the retreating mist, to rend it into nothingness. Kaja cowered from the trapped spirit, the fear she felt strengthening the chains that bound it, and thus further enraging it.

    ¡°Kaja!¡±

    When Kaja opened her eyes, the mist was gone, the sky was clear, and she was in Jo¡¯s arms, with Leif, Sakrattars, and Amale looking down at her with concern. She clutched her chest, sucking in a gasping breath. The ground around them was covered in hailstones, which began to steam as the summer heat returned.

    ¡°Thank the gods,¡± Leif sighed from relief.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Sakrattars asked.

    Kaja blinked. ¡°I . . . I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Does it matter?¡± Jo shook her head. ¡°She¡¯s alright.¡± Her adrenaline was starting to wear off and the pain from her injuries was setting in. ¡°She¡¯s alright,¡± she repeated gratefully then winced. She grasped her side and pulled away a palm covered in blood.

    ¡°Let me help,¡± Amale said softly, retrieving a healer¡¯s kit from his pack.

    ¡°You¡¯re hurt too,¡± Jo said. Blood matted the fur on Amale¡¯s arm where the shadow man¡¯s dagger had grazed him.

    ¡°You moreso,¡± he said simply. Jo didn¡¯t argue further.

    ¡°Who was that man?¡± Leif asked. He looked to Kaja, who immediately cast her gaze downwards. ¡°He called you a zmaj. What does that mean?¡± Jo placed a hand on Kaja¡¯s shoulder, attempting to turn her away from all the questions. Kaja, however, slipped from Jo¡¯s touch, taking a step toward Leif.

    She drew down her hood with an unsteady hand, exposing her horns and long, white hair. Leif gasped and instinctively took a step back. Even Amale was awestruck, Jo¡¯s injury temporarily forgotten. ¡°They are my people. I¡¯m a zmaj,¡± Kaja said, her voice trembling. ¡°They want to kill me.¡±

    ¡°They?¡±

    ¡°Bounty hunters, or so I thought,¡± Sakrattars said, his eyes narrowing with suspicion, ¡°but this was no mere bounty hunter. There was something powerful at work here. Tell us the truth, Jo.¡±

    Jo and Kaja exchanged glances. ¡°Alright,¡± Jo sighed, ¡°it was last winter when I found Kaja in the Goldenwoods . . .¡±

    *

    *

    ¡°So you saw that shadow man before?¡± Leif asked. Though exhausted and footsore, the party could see Barsicum¡¯s outer walls now, the majestic spires of the distant University reflecting the sun¡¯s golden light. Seeing the familiar sights lifted Sakrattars¡¯ mood considerably¡ªno one had thanked him for, or even acknowledged, his insight that turned the tide in the battle with the shadow man.

    ¡°We didn¡¯t see anyone,¡± Jo replied, limping on her hurt leg, ¡°but we sensed someone who was like him. I don¡¯t think they were the same though. The one we felt back in the Goldenwoods was much more . . .¡± she shuddered, her voice trailing off.

    ¡°There¡¯s more than one of those people out there?¡± Leif frowned. ¡°One was plenty, if you ask me.¡±

    They walked in silence before Jo spoke again, her tone somber. ¡°Follow us and there¡¯s only more danger waiting for you. I¡¯d understand if you want to part ways once we deliver the letter to Lucretia.¡±

    Leif and Amale looked at one another. Both of Amale¡¯s ears pointed toward Leif. After a moment, Leif grumbled, ¡°I don¡¯t appreciate the secrets, but. . .¡± He turned toward them. ¡°I¡¯ll help you if you¡¯ll have me.¡± Amale nodded in agreement. Kaja smiled shyly, touched by their loyalty when she had expected them to leave.

    ¡°How about you, elf?¡± Jo turned to Sakrattars, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the discussion.

    Sakrattars was torn. On one hand, terrifying beings were hunting them and Jo still wasn¡¯t telling them the whole truth. The Goldenwoods were far from Jo¡¯s southeasterly home of Culacalli. The fact that she was there at all was incredibly suspicious and Sakrattars felt that she was concealing crucial details from them.

    On the other hand, if he survived the journey and published his studies, an illustrious academic career was all but guaranteed to him. He could study and teach anywhere in the world and his family would never be able to accuse him of being a disappointment and failure again.

    In the end, he had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

    ¡°I¡¯ll help too,¡± he said at last. ¡°I already said I would be your diviner.¡±

    Kaja smiled brightly. Leif barely concealed an eye-roll, but said nothing.

    When they reached Barsicum, it was decided that they would go to Lucretia¡¯s home first and then head to an inn for a much deserved meal and rest. They could regroup and start fresh in the morning.

    ¡°Hey elf, where¡¯s this address?¡± Jo asked. ¡°Twelve Via Liber.¡±

    Sakrattars bristled. ¡°How would I know?¡±

    ¡°You lived here, right?¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I know where every address is,¡± he sighed wearily.

    ¡°What he means is that he didn¡¯t get out much,¡± Leif quipped. Jo stifled a laugh, then clutched her ribs in pain.

    ¡°Give me that.¡± Sakrattars snatched the letter from Leif¡¯s hands and approached a city guard. ¡°Excuse me, can you tell us where we can find this address?¡±

    The guard, put off by the ragged appearance of the party, looked at the paper reluctantly. His eyebrows shot up. ¡°Is this a joke?¡±

    Sakrattars took the letter back, reading it over in confusion. Astinos¡¯ mother Camilla was elderly, could she have misremembered? ¡°Why do you say that?¡±

    ¡°The lady who lived there went mad.¡± The guard shifted his weight, scratching his neck nervously as he recalled the events. ¡°Killed a bunch of people and burned her own house down. It was a big scandal.¡±

    Now that he was reminded of it, Sakrattars did recall hearing market gossip about such an event at the end of spring. But why would Lucretia, or anyone, do such a horrible thing? It didn¡¯t make any sense. Yet the fact that both her lover, Astinos, and Lucretia herself had met with unfortunate fates added weight to the lump forming in Sakrattars¡¯ gut.

    ¡°Can you tell us where the house is anyway?¡± Leif asked.

    The guard looked at him skeptically. ¡°If you really want to go there.¡±

    Following the directions they received, the party came upon the scorched ruins of a small home on the outer edge of the city. By the time they got there the sun had almost completely set and the low light cast eerie shadows onto the blackened stone walls. A perimeter of wooden fencing had been erected around the burned house, with signs ordering everyone to stay away. Truthfully, the fencing was probably unnecessary¡ªnone of the locals had any desire to trespass in that place.

    The party bypassed the fences, Amale glancing back at the warnings with a concerned whine. Leif tried the door but the wood had turned to brittle charcoal and crumbled off its frame. Startled by this, a rat shrieked and skittered off into the rubble. The thatch roof had completely burned away and the support beams were charred and broken, lying where they had crashed down weeks previously. The floor was covered in ash and scattered objects, most too burned to identify.

    The few people that passed by stared at the party, some with suspicion and others with a contempt reserved specially for unscrupulous thieves. Perhaps it was the cursed aura of the place or Jo¡¯s presence, or maybe a bit of both, but none of the bystanders actually took the initiative to accost them.

    ¡°Look.¡± Kaja held up a scrap of singed paper found in the ashes of the fireplace. Miraculously, it was still intact despite an obvious attempt to have it destroyed. Sakrattars examined it, puzzled. Many other items had been burned to ashes, even those far less flammable than paper. This, however, showed only burned edges. Perhaps someone had saved it from the blaze. . . and then left it behind for some reason? It appeared to be a map to an estate in the north, where the southern hook of the Grayspur mountain range and the southern edge of the Goldenwoods met.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know her, but . . .¡± Leif mused, turning over a portrait. The paint had bubbled and boiled, scorched far beyond recognition. The ornate frame suggested that it had once been a cherished item, perhaps even an heirloom. ¡°I can¡¯t believe anyone would do this.¡±

    ¡°But she did.¡±

    Everyone whirled around, startled by the unexpected voice. Metal sang and bowstrings stretched as the party readied their weapons. An elf stood in the doorway, leaning against the ruined frame, her arms crossed. She had two dagger sheaths on her hips and was clothed in padded armor and a familiar navy blue tabard . . .

    ¡°You¡¯re the ¡®knife lady¡¯,¡± Sakrattars said. ¡°Are you following us?¡±

    ¡°My name is Linnea Moonwing,¡± the elf introduced, noticing Jo¡¯s apprehension but electing to ignore it. She locked eyes with Kaja. ¡°I warned you there was a spy.¡± Kaja¡¯s hand closed around her pocket where the note still remained. ¡°Do you mind?¡± Linnea asked, looking at Jo, Leif, and Amale, who still had their weapons raised.

    Slowly, and reluctantly, they lowered them. ¡°You know her?¡± Jo asked Kaja.

    Kaja shook her head.

    ¡°But I know you,¡± Linnea continued, ¡°or at least, I know the people who are hunting you.¡± She took her weight off the doorframe, taking a step into the house to join them. ¡°They¡¯re members of a ruthless cult called the Irkallu. The Empire has known many seditious groups, but the Irkallu are . . . different. They¡¯re more organized, more driven, and more dangerous than any of the others. We thought we''d destroyed them a dozen times before, but they always come back, century after century.¡± Her gray eyes shifted to Kaja. ¡°Their most elite members are known as ¡®Fallen¡¯ and have strange, sinister powers. You met one of them in the woods today.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re just supposed to trust you?¡± Jo said incredulously, moving to place herself between Linnea and Kaja. ¡°How do you know all this?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my job. I¡¯m a member of the Ordo Draconis. It is our duty to identify, disrupt, and destroy threats to the people of the Empire, and to do so outside of the public eye.¡± She twisted off her left vambrace, exposing the Empire¡¯s heraldic symbol, a golden dragon curled around a sun, hidden underneath. ¡°Lucretia was also a member of our order, before she disappeared.¡±

    ¡°What happened to her?¡± Leif asked, waving the letter with the ring enclosed. ¡°We came here to deliver this to her. It¡¯s from her late lover.¡±

    Linnea frowned. ¡°So they found Astinos too. Then it¡¯s only a matter of time before they find Bandrigan and Feriel.¡±

    Sakrattars recognized the names from Camilla¡¯s story. ¡°All four of them were Imperial agents?¡± He gazed down at the map Kaja had found in the fireplace. ¡°Did Bandrigan and Feriel live in the mountains north of here, by any chance?¡±

    ¡°They went into hiding, so I don¡¯t know.¡± Linnea took the scrap of paper when Sakrattars offered it to her and studied it carefully. ¡°If this is indeed where they are, then Lucretia knows it too. I need to stop her before she murders again,¡± she paused. ¡°Barsicum isn¡¯t safe for you either, the Irkallu could have their spies anywhere. Would you consider going with me to the estate?¡±

    The party exchanged looks.

    ¡°Only if you tell us more about these ¡®Irkallu¡¯ and why they are targeting Kaja,¡± Jo said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why they¡¯re targeting her, just that they are,¡± Linnea replied simply, ¡°but I will tell you what I can about them if that would please you.¡±

    Jo squinted, unsure if Linnea was mocking her or not.

    ¡°It seems we have little choice but to go with you,¡± Sakrattars interjected. ¡°If the Irkallu know we¡¯re in Barsicum, we can¡¯t stay here.¡± Jo grumbled in reluctant agreement. Both Leif and Amale looked sullen. They could all use some hot food and medical care, but it seemed they¡¯d get neither tonight. Though they didn¡¯t like it, leaving was the only option.

    Kaja clutched the hem of her dress, twisting the fabric anxiously. Could the Irkallu be the ones who attacked her village that night? She thought of an army of Fallen, masked, supernatural warriors razing the ancient conifer trees to the ground and spilling red blood onto white snow. Although she still held onto a small hope that there were other survivors, somewhere deep inside an uncomfortable possibility was growing too big to ignore¡ª

    They were hunting her because she was a loose end, the only one who got away from them that fateful night, and she needed to be eliminated.

 Session 4 - The Abandoned Estate

    Shadows danced through the grove, weaving in and out of the trees as they closed in on Sakrattars. One of them took the shape of a man in a metal mask and rushed forward, daggers raised. Sakrattars spoke the words to a spell but the magic fizzled on his lips. Tendrils of darkness lapped at his feet, coiling around his ankles and holding him in place as the Fallen slammed into him. Metal flashed red in the light of the eclipse. He felt the dagger sink in, but there was no pain. Only deep, crushing cold. His vision blurred, the taste of iron filled his mouth¡ª

    Jerking awake with a gasp but still not understanding where he was, Sakrattars flailed his arms in a pitiful attempt at defending himself. Jo stepped back, hands raised.

    ¡°It¡¯s just me, elf,¡± she said, ¡°it¡¯s just me.¡±

    Sakrattars stared at her blankly, his mind a haze. It was a dream. Only a dream . . . The sun was low on the eastern horizon and everyone except for him was already up. He sighed, his eyelids getting heavy again. It seemed like no time at all had passed since he laid down on his bedroll. Linnea had insisted that they put as much ground as possible between them and Barsicum before making camp for the night. The grueling trek brought them to the foothills of the Grayspur mountains before Linnea was satisfied, much to the exhausted party¡¯s collective relief.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Sakrattars said, rubbing his temple. ¡°How are you holding up?¡±

    Jo shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll manage. Amale¡¯s poultice helps.¡±

    He nodded. Last night, he had seen how Jo dragged her injured leg and winced when she breathed, how the linens wrapped around her waist were dark with blood by the time they were able to rest. Yet she never once complained about the brisk pace Linnea set.

    ¡°Do you want tea? Amale and Kaja are preparing it,¡±  Jo asked.

    ¡°Yes I would.¡± Sakrattars yawned, opening his spellbook with one hand while absentmindedly tossing some worms to Bartholomew with the other. However, he couldn¡¯t focus on the words. His mind kept wandering back to the encounter with the so-called Fallen and, more specifically, the implication that there were more such beings out there scouring the land for Kaja. But why? Just who were the Irkallu? He thought of Linnea. She definitely knew more than she was letting on.

    Leif set down a hot cup of tea and Sakrattars plunked a biscuit in with a splash, eyes still glued on his spellbook.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± Leif said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

    Sakrattars¡¯ gaze flicked up. ¡°We might find Lucretia, who appears to be homicidal and unstable, at the estate today. I don¡¯t intend to be defenseless.¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright. By Orvim, it was a joke.¡± Leif waved it off, leaving the elf to his studies. He paused to mull over Sakrattars¡¯ words then took a seat and pulled out a sharpening stone, getting to work on the axe that he had come to call Oxhiminn. Nearby, Amale was tending a small fire, the place where the Fallen¡¯s dagger had grazed his forearm wrapped in fresh, clean bandages. Kaja kneeled next to him, stirring tea leaves into a canteen of hot water. She held it up for him to sniff and his ears twitched in response. Nodding, Kaja added another pinch of leaves.

    They were just finishing breakfast when Linnea returned to camp from her self-appointed scouting mission. She gratefully accepted some of the tea from Kaja. ¡°The way looks clear,¡± she said. ¡°We should leave as soon as possible.¡±

    Jo, putting more force than was necessary into tying her cestus, shot Linnea a cutting glare. Sensing a confrontation, Sakrattars closed his book and watched.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Jo said as she flexed her hand, ¡°but first you owe us an explanation.¡±

    Linnea lowered her cup, her gray eyes cool and expressionless. ¡°About what?¡± Everything about her, from her smooth ivory skin to her ash blonde hair, reminded Jo of stone.

    ¡°Tell us about Lucretia and the others. And the reason you were following us.¡±

    ¡°They were members of the Ordo but I didn¡¯t know them personally,¡± Linnea replied. ¡°Feriel joined around the same time I did. She¡¯s a brilliant scholar and archeologist and a talented wizard on top of it. The Ordo often sent her and Bandrigan to Arvis, though I¡¯m not familiar with the details of their mission there. Somewhere along the way they plucked Astinos and Lucretia off the streets of Orium. I remember when they made their case to the chamber, trying to convince us to allow those two scrawny urchins into the Ordo.¡± The corner of Linnea¡¯s mouth shifted in what may have been a small smile at the memory. She continued, ¡°I was on my way to investigate Lucretia when I discovered Irkallu operatives on the road. I learned that they were looking for a white-haired girl traveling with a natiuhan. When I saw you at the inn, I knew you had to be the target and made a judgment call.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t remember you being at the inn,¡± Leif said, puzzled. He had drinken quite a lot that night but he liked to think he would recall seeing someone like Linnea in the crowd.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Linnea said. ¡°I take that as a compliment.¡±

    ¡°Something doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± Sakrattars cut in. ¡°Astinos¡¯ mother said that he had come back to Orium to live with her a year ago and Lucretia¡¯s episode happened months ago. How did that escape the Ordo¡¯s notice for so long?¡±

    ¡°It''s not unusual for agents to disappear undercover for months at a time, so we didn¡¯t immediately realize something was wrong,¡± Linnea paused. ¡°We also couldn¡¯t afford to send an agent to investigate.¡±

    ¡°Until now,¡± Sakrattars said, a hint of suspicion coloring his words.

    ¡°Until now,¡± Linnea repeated firmly, her face unreadable.

    ¡°But did the Irkallu say why they are targeting Kaja?¡± Jo pressed, shifting the conversation away from the Ordo Draconis¡¯ internal problems.

    ¡°Could it be linked to her being¡ª¡± Leif stopped himself after a sharp glare from Jo.

    ¡°Being a zmaj?¡± Linnea finished. ¡°I imagine it could be.¡±

    Kaja perked up, a flutter of hope rising in her throat. Even Sakrattars¡¯ eyes went wide. So there were those in the Empire who knew something of the zmaj.

    ¡°What do you know about the zmaj?¡± Jo asked, her jaw slack in amazement.

    ¡°Less than you, I''m sure.¡± Linnea shrugged nonchalantly. ¡°Unfortunately, I don¡¯t have much more information on our current situation than that, but I do suspect the Irkallu are involved with Astinos¡¯ death and Lucretia¡¯s condition. We¡¯ve lost a lot of good agents to them¡ªI just hope we haven¡¯t lost Feriel and Bandrigan as well.¡±

    ¡°After what we saw yesterday, I would believe that the Irkallu could drive Lucretia into madness,¡± Leif shuddered at the memory of the masked Fallen, ¡°but Astinos was killed by a cave fisher. We saw it. I doubt they had a hand in that?¡±

    ¡°Not in the cave fisher, no. But who organized for the bandits to be there? Who brought the tip of their whereabouts to places they knew Astinos would hear of it?¡±

    ¡°You think the Irkallu paid off the bandits and also turned them in to the authorities, all to lure Astinos to his death?¡± Sakrattars raised an eyebrow. ¡°Why not just kill him outright?¡±

    ¡°Because if they did that, we¡¯d have evidence.¡± Linnea emptied her tea and stood up. ¡°At the very least we¡¯d have something to go off of in order to track them down and prosecute them. As it is, we just have a chain of seemingly unrelated events where, if we try to find a connection between them, it only causes the citizenry to raise their eyebrows.¡±

    Sakrattars¡¯ cheeks flushed from the rebuke. If Linnea was right, then they were dealing with a very dangerous enemy¡ªone who manipulated the world around them with the subtlety of ripples on the surface of a pool. He couldn¡¯t tell if his remaining reservations were because he didn¡¯t believe it or because the reality was too disturbing to accept.

    ¡°Just who are these Irkallu?¡± Jo muttered, slinging her pack over her shoulder. ¡°What do they even want?¡±

    Linnea pulled her hood up, eyes scanning the mountain pass ahead. ¡°Our destruction,¡± she said.

    *

    *

    The estate was magnificent. The home, two stories of cobblestone and hardwood, was perched at a cliff face nestled amongst the trees. As the party ascended the path to the large manicured courtyard, they noticed that the architecture was a style that elves in particular were fond of, with plants and animals carved seamlessly into the design.

    ¡°Seems like someone hasn¡¯t been taking care of the garden,¡± Jo observed grimly. Linnea nodded but remained silent. Weeds crowded the decorative flower beds and the pruned shrubs were losing shape.

    Sakrattars clutched his sleeve where a rogue branch snagged him, a thorn catching on the fabric. ¡°The house is dark, too,¡± he said, noting that the curtains in the high-arched windows were all drawn shut.

    ¡°Perhaps they¡¯re out,¡± Leif suggested hopefully. Sakrattars gave him a dubious look.

    On either side of the home¡¯s front were two stone platforms, which Sakrattars recognized as bases for sculptures like the kind his brother Fenian, an artist of some renown back in Arvisian Bay, would use. These, however, were empty. Bronze scraps that looked like they may once have been statues lay in two piles in the courtyard, too far away to simply have fallen from their pedestals. Weeds had begun to embrace the scraps.

    Sakrattars approached to investigate but as he drew closer, a pain in his head grew sharper and sharper until he was rendered so dizzy he had to pause. He held his forehead in his hands, trying to regain his bearings. A terrible, oppressive feeling smothered him, squeezing the air out of his lungs. Brief, incoherent visions flashed through his mind¡¯s eye: the spark of metal on metal, an explosion of magic, a child¡¯s scream¡ª

    ¡°Are you all right?¡± Linnea asked. Sakrattars looked at her without recognition.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he replied automatically, shaking his head. But the experience had left him rattled. Was he tired and hallucinating? Or was it something else?

    ¡°These are constructs,¡± Linnea said, kneeling down next to the metal wreckage, ¡°or at least they were. Feriel built them as a hobby.¡±

    ¡°But what happened to them?¡± Sakrattars murmured, his eyes running over the twisted, melted remains.

    Before Linnea could respond, Jo called everyone to the side of the home. Amale¡¯s ears lowered and Sakrattars bit his lip.

    In the garden bed were two patches of disturbed soil, side by side, around the length of a body. Displaced flowers were laid tenderly across the tops of the mounds. No one needed confirmation of what was buried there.

    ¡°We were too late,¡± Leif said through clenched teeth. ¡°Damn it!¡±

    Linnea stared at the graves, scanning them impassively. ¡°Why would Lucretia bury them?¡±

    Leif frowned, his blue eyes hardening. ¡°That¡¯s all you have to say?¡±

    ¡°I was prepared for this outcome. Expected it even. There will be a time to mourn but first I need to find out what happened here.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t¡ª!¡± Leif swallowed his angry retort. ¡°Lucretia was their friend. Maybe she had a moment of clarity after what she had done. Does it matter?¡±

    ¡°It does.¡± Linnea circled around the graves, bending down to feel the soil.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if Lucretia was the one that buried them,¡± Sakrattars said quietly. Instantly, all eyes were on him.

    ¡°What makes you say that?¡± Linnea asked.

    ¡°I¡ªI had a vision. When I saw the ruined constructs. In it, I heard a child scream.¡± He winced, expecting dismissal and derision. But Linnea merely lifted a hand to her chin, her brow furrowed in thought. ¡°Is it possible that a child lived here?¡± Sakrattars continued.

    ¡°Possible, yes. Working for the Ordo is dangerous, you¡¯re constantly surrounded by enemies. If Feriel and Bandrigan had a child, then it would be reasonable to assume that they would wish to raise them someplace they thought no one would ever find them.¡± Linnea glanced down at the graves, aware of the irony of her words.

    ¡°Then the child might still be alive,¡± Jo said, filled with newfound determination. ¡°We should search the house.¡±

    As everyone filed out of the garden, Kaja lingered a few moments longer. She squatted and reached out a shaking hand, her fingers lightly brushing the dirt. The locket around her neck whispered into her ear, telling her of love, devotion, and tragedy. But there was something else too. Fear. Concern. A cry for help. Jo called her name and Kaja jumped to her feet, hurrying to catch up.

    When Kaja rejoined the companions, Linnea had just finished tampering with the lock on the front doors. A gentle nudge and they slowly creaked open. The foyer was deathly still, half-melted candles unlit in their sconces. Sun streamed in through a skylight, illuminating the collection of curiosities lining the walls: faded tapestries, cases of ancient Arvisian artifacts, suits of armor posed on pedestals. As the party crept forward, Sakrattars couldn¡¯t resist marveling at the objects. Under better circumstances, he would have demanded time to examine each more closely.

    Then a small crystalline prism caught his eye.

    ¡°A memory crystal,¡± he said, surprised.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Leif asked.

    ¡°Just as it says: crystals that can store memories,¡± Sakrattars explained. ¡°People often find them in ruins. Feriel probably got it on one of her expeditions to Arvis.¡±

    Linnea picked it up, turning it around to examine the facets. ¡°Do you know how to activate it?¡± She handed it to Sakrattars. ¡°Feriel knew more than most about them. Perhaps she left us a message in it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never tried,¡± Sakrattars faltered. He lifted it between his thumb and index finger. Reacting to his touch, the smooth surface pulsated and glowed with the faint warmth of magic. But, try as he might, the crystal would not yield anything further.

    After several moments, Jo groaned. ¡°I¡¯m going to keep looking.¡±

    But she stopped when Kaja reached out to Sakrattars, palm open. Figuring that it couldn¡¯t hurt to have her look at it while he thought of another method to try, he gave it to her.

    In the brief moment that both Sakrattars and Kaja were touching the crystal, it shimmered and whirred to life, swallowing the companions in a brilliant light. Their surroundings changed by the second, flashing by in rapid bursts. They were in a bustling market with people wearing strange, foreign clothes. Then they were in a war room, a detailed map of what appeared to be Taracosia spread out on the table. After that, they were on a beach, looking out at a fleet of ships. Then they were back in the foyer, but the candles were lit, the dust was cleared, and the sound of laughter colored the air.

    ¡°Daddy!¡± A young half-elf child ran towards the party, her black curls bouncing. She passed through them as if they were ghosts, dashing into the open arms of a man behind them. He twirled her around, the light in their smiles complementing the warmth of their rich brown skin. The man¡¯s head was shaved and he wore the garb of a cleric of Thosis with a navy blue tabard draped over it.

    ¡°Bandrigan . . .¡± Linnea whispered.

    ¡°Saara, baby.¡± Bandrigan nuzzled his daughter¡¯s cheek, peppering her with kisses. ¡°Where is mommy?¡±

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    ¡°I¡¯m here.¡± An elven woman appeared in the doorway to the study, leaning casually against the frame. She was dressed in a simple blouse and trousers, her dark wavy hair framing her sun-tanned face. ¡°Tell daddy what we did today, Saara.¡±

    Saara turned back to Bandrigan, her face beaming. ¡°I helped mommy build a spider!¡±

    ¡°Did you?¡± Bandrigan feigned a gasp of surprise. ¡°That¡¯s my girl.¡±

    Feriel ushered Bandrigan through the door, kissing his cheek as he passed by her.

    Then the vision shattered and the party was back in the silent, gray foyer, all the life drained from it. Kaja let go of the crystal, lowering her face until her hood hid her expression. The magic fizzled then burned out.

    ¡°They did have a child,¡± Linnea murmured, the barest sliver of emotion¡ªthe first the companions had seen¡ªreflected in her eyes.

    ¡°We need to find her,¡± Jo reiterated.

    ¡°Do you really think she survived the attack? That, even if she did, she¡¯s still alive?¡± Sakrattars asked softly.

    ¡°We need to be sure,¡± Leif said. ¡°An estate like this probably has an impressive cellar of food. A child might be able to live here alone for quite some time.¡±

    Sakrattars pursed his lips but knew that any further argument would fall on deaf ears. Amale placed a paw on his shoulder. Sakrattars wasn¡¯t sure if it was in solidarity, sympathy, or supposed to be persuasive and Amale didn¡¯t offer any words to clarify his meaning. He merely withdrew his paw and gave a nod to the others.

    The companions rounded the hallway and entered the study where they had seen Feriel in the memory. Shelves brimming with knowledge lined the walls, with piles of books and scrolls scattered on the floor. The wooden desk was half-buried in various objects: an open book, a puddle of wax from a candle that had burned all the way down to the base, and assorted gears and springs. There was also another memory crystal.

    ¡°Kaja, can you come here?¡± Sakrattars said. ¡°Take this.¡± He dropped the crystal into her hand. As he expected, it flared to life, a collage of rainbow light twirling around it. Memory crystals were mysterious devices that modern scholars still struggled to fully understand, as the secrets of their use died along with the ancient societies that had crafted them. It was known that at least one thing could reliably activate one: an infusion of magic, either by way of spell or by a natural fluctuation in the flow from the ethereal realm. The spells Sakrattars knew had not been sufficient to power it, but Kaja could activate one from a touch. The amount of latent magical energy passing through her must be extraordinary.

    The light expanded out from the crystal and the dust and cobwebs vanished, the darkness melted away. In the middle of the floor, sitting cross-legged on the rug, was Saara¡ªnow nine or ten years old. She sat amongst a haphazard pile of cogs and screws, hard at work on what appeared to be a metal serpent. Saara was holding it close to her goggled face, moving delicately to affix some tiny mechanism inside its belly, when Feriel¡¯s voice rang out from beyond the shut door.

    ¡°Saara!¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Saara yelled back, still concentrating on her work.

    ¡°Saara!¡±

    Saara sighed and put the serpent down, tearing the goggles from her face. ¡°What?¡± she called back again as she left the room. As the door latched behind her with a soft click, the memory faded and the companions were standing in the abandoned study once more.

    ¡°All of these memories revolve around Saara,¡± Linnea murmured.

    ¡°What if they¡¯re trying to tell us something?¡± Leif said. ¡°What if they¡¯re leading us to her?¡±

    Jo nodded. ¡°Where was she going at the end of the memory? Let¡¯s see if we can follow her.¡±

    Across the foyer from the study was the kitchen, a modest room consisting of a hearth, a simple wood table, and a row of cupboards. A string of dried herbs and braided garlic heads hung above a side door that led out to the well and garden¡ªthe garden that was now a graveyard.

    Sakrattars followed the others into the kitchen and felt another wave of dizziness. Clutching his head with one hand, he leaned against the doorframe with the other.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Kaja asked softly, tugging on his sleeve in concern.

    He looked down at her, his brow knit in confusion. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯m fine,¡± he stammered. Yet each time he said it, he was less convinced that it was true. ¡°It¡¯s just hard to breathe in here.¡± The rest of the party exchanged glances.

    Sakrattars, desperate for air, reached for the side door. Screams echoed in his ears, followed by the sickening crunch of a blade running through flesh. A loud buzzing drowned out the rest, pierced through by the screech of rending metal. Sakrattars retracted his hand from the door, stumbling as he backed away from it. His knees weakened and he swooned. Jo caught him before he hit the ground.

    Linnea brushed a lock of hair from his eyes. ¡°You had another vision.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question. ¡°What did you see?¡±

    Before Sakrattars could reply, Kaja picked up a discarded memory crystal from a dusty corner of the room. The crystal instantly lit up, as if it were eager to share what it knew. It cycled through several memories¡ªthe family sharing a meal, Bandrigan singing to Saara, Saara proudly showing off a mechanical dancing doll. Then the crystal paused, whirring quietly before it began to play a new memory. The image was distorted and shrouded in darkness, as if it were being dragged from the bottom of a deep river . . .

    *

    *

    Feriel was outside, flanked on either side by the stone pedestals topped with suits of bronze armor posed with battle axes. ¡°Lucretia, don¡¯t do this,¡± she said calmly. ¡°We can help you. It¡¯s going to be alright.¡±

    Lucretia stood in the courtyard, pallid skin stretched across her bones, her blue eyes mirthless and empty, her auburn curls falling in stringy, matted chunks. Her hand trembled. Withered fingers wrapped around the hilt of a cruel blade, her knuckles searing white. The iron grip of that hand belied its wasted, atrophied appearance. Kaja¡¯s eyes widened when she saw the sword and, despite the fact that they were only seeing a vision of the past, something deep inside of her stirred, calling her to action. Darkness bled from the blade¡¯s edge, dripping off and dissipating into puffs of fell mist.

    It was eerily similar to the Fallen they had encountered on the road to Barsicum.

    ¡°Drop the sword, Lucretia,¡± Feriel said.

    ¡°Why did you . . . why did you . . .¡± Lucretia shook her head, her voice hoarse and strained. A tear ran down her cheek. ¡°Why did you tell It where you were?¡±

    ¡°Mom?¡± Saara cracked the door and peeked out, Bandrigan behind her. She now looked to be around Kaja¡¯s age. ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡±

    When Feriel turned to answer, Lucretia lunged, the blade drawing her forward. Feriel narrowly dodged the strike, a spell playing across her lips, magic welling in her palms.

    ¡°Feriel!¡± Bandrigan shouted as he pulled Saara back.

    ¡°Get Saara inside! Now!¡± she cried as she whirled around and blocked Lucretia¡¯s demonic blade in an explosion of magic. The guardian constructs whirred to life on their platforms, brandishing their weapons at the hostile intruder. They moved with fluid alacrity, springing to their mistress¡¯s defense as quickly as any mortal warrior.

    With one last look at Feriel, Bandrigan grabbed Saara and dragged her inside. Saara screamed, calling for her mother, hitting Bandrigan with small fists.

    ¡°We have to help mom!¡± Saara pulled back with all her might. ¡°Dad! Let me go!¡±

    Bandrigan released her. ¡°Saara, baby. Look at me.¡± He placed his hands on her shoulders before she could run away. She looked up and saw that his eyes were wet with the same frightened tears that hers were. ¡°I need you to be strong and do as I say. Can you do that for me?¡± Saara sniffled and nodded. The battle outside was reaching a crescendo, the horrible sound of metal scraping against metal echoing into the foyer. Bandrigan dashed to the wall, flipping down a hidden wood panel to reveal a pattern of glowing crystals underneath. He raised his hand to them, magic flowing from his fingers and arcing across the crystals¡¯ facets. Several trap doors opened up, metal serpents like the one Saara had been building slithered forth and large mechanical knights stepped out into the foyer, their bodies thrumming.

    From outside came a ragged scream then brutal silence. Both Saara and Bandrigan gasped, turning back the way they came in grief and terror. Lucretia was in their home now, her shoulders hunched, her blade shaking.

    ¡°You . . .¡± she growled, speaking with two voices, one her own and one booming and ancient. ¡°You dare defy Norsivex . . . now your souls will be his playthings . . .¡± Her eyes flashed with pale yellow bale-light, her face twisted in a mask of grief and hate.

    As the constructs converged on Lucretia, Bandrigan ran Saara into the kitchen and ushered her into one of the cupboards.

    ¡°Dad! What about you?¡± Saara cried as Bandrigan shut the door and left her in darkness. He started to pray as he traced a sigil onto the wood. Saara pounded on the other side but Bandrigan continued his prayer, choked with emotion, tears streaming freely down his face. Lucretia turned, having finally defeated the last of the constructs. They lay about her feet, magic spilling from their innards, displaced gears grinding together and sending out occasional sparks. Seeing what Badrigan was doing, Lucretia charged. She raised the blade and plunged it down into his back. He inhaled sharply, his prayer cut short.

    Lucretia raged and screamed, attacking him again. Bandrigan felt each deep cut into his flesh, but not once did he turn from his protective spell. Every mote of his magic was devoted to his incantation, regardless of the blows and the agony he endured. Bandrigan sputtered, whispering the final words of the prayer with his last breath. He slumped over, crashing to the ground. The sigil glowed bright blue and Lucretia, realizing she was too late, hacked at the cupboard only to be repelled in a shower of ethereal sparks. Saara was under the divine protection of the Arda and out of her reach.

    As Lucretia staggered back, a damaged mechanical knight brought its axe down on her. Polluted blood oozed from the wound as she recoiled from the blow, swinging her sword through the metal with a sizzle, disabling the construct. Falling to her knees beside Bandrigan¡¯s still form, she panted and wheezed, then, as if every move pained her, she turned her head towards her friend¡¯s body. A glimmer of recognition alighted in her eyes. Grief-stricken and horrified, she stumbled towards the door, then stopped to brace herself against the frame with her uncursed arm, her head hanging low. She turned back, presumably to take one last look at Bandrigan.

    Then Lucretia was gone.

    The memory began to crumble, the scene flickering as the crystal fizzled out.

    The threat gone, the glowing sigil of protection faded to nothingness. Saara cracked open the cupboard door. She sniffled and whimpered, terror and grief still gripping her.

    ¡°Dad..?¡±

    Then the crystal died, plunging the companions back into the muted kitchen. Where before they saw an empty, abandoned home, they now saw that it was alive with the ghosts of the past. A pantry door splintered and deformed, a long, dark stain on the wood floor below the cabinets leading to the garden. Someone had tried in vain to clean it but it was an indelible part of the home now¡ªa permanent mark paired with the disturbing imprint the events had left on the ethereal fabric. Like a lapping wave obscuring a trail of footprints through the sand, the memories had overwritten any that were previously stored on the crystals. They were doomed to relive the events of that day, as scarred by what happened as the home and any living thing within it.

    Sakrattars was sensitive to that energy as well, but he was no longer alone. Everyone felt as if they were suffocating, as if the walls were closing in on them, crushing their chests beneath the weight of what they had bore witness to.

    Linnea took a measured breath, yet the words still came out strained.

    ¡°Lucretia has . . . fallen.¡±

    *

    *

    The companions stepped back into the foyer, not yet willing or able to discuss what they had seen. They had come to the estate on a mission for answers and help, but Feriel and Bandrigan were dead, their young daughter Saara was missing, and they were no closer to finding the monster that Lucretia had become than they were the day before in Barsicum.

    An odd clicking noise disrupted them from their thoughts as the hidden wooden panels they had seen in the memory flew open. Before they had time to react, constructed serpents were winding down the walls and large metal spiders scuttled forward from holes in the baseboards. Many showed recent welds and repairs, but moved swiftly to the home¡¯s defense as strong as they would have whole and undamaged.

    ¡°Look out!¡± Jo cried, pushing Kaja out of harm¡¯s way and stomping one of the metal spiders flat with her boot. Amale backed up steadily, unleashing arrow after arrow at the approaching constructs, to no effect. Sakrattars managed to hit a serpent with a splash of magical acid, and it thrashed horribly as the acid burned through its metal casing, before laying still.

    Amidst the confusion, Kaja saw a shadow duck behind the railing of the second floor, then dash past the top of the stairwell and out of sight.

    ¡°The snakes have fangs,¡± Linnea warned, swiftly flipping the one Sakrattars had disabled over with the tip of her dagger, and tossing it away.

    Leif brought Oxhiminn down on another, severing its mechanical head. A bizarre, off-color liquid dribbled from reservoirs behind its jaws. Poison. ¡°We need to get out of here¡ªthe home is still protecting itself!¡±

    One of the spiders raised up on its hind legs, lifting its forelegs menacingly. It uttered a sharp hiss, spitting a gout of burning liquid from its mandibles. Amale whirled out of the way, the flames splashing against the wall behind him. A magnificent tapestry lit up and turned into a column of fire within moments. Dark gray smoke filled the foyer as the flames spread, choking the party and stinging their eyes. But still the constructs kept coming, their metal bodies unaffected.

    ¡°To the door!¡± Leif rasped.

    By the time everyone stumbled outside, the fire had spread to the study and set the books alight like kindling. Flames punched out the windows, licking up the sides of the home, turning the beautiful elven carvings to ash. And that¡¯s when they noticed they were missing someone.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Kaja?¡± Jo said in a panic. ¡°Sakrattars, where¡¯s Kaja?¡±

    Sakrattars, doubled over coughing, lifted his head, his eyes wet with tears. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he wheezed.

    Jo stared at the burning estate, her heart pounding. ¡°She¡¯s still in there?¡± She gasped, stepping forward. Immediately, Leif was pulling on one arm and Amale and Sakrattars were on the other.

    ¡°It¡¯s too dangerous, Jo!¡± Sakrattars cried.

    ¡°She needs me!¡± Jo strained against the weight of her companions, dragging them across the garden. But the pain of her rib and leg injuries became too much for her to bear and she slumped. ¡°Let go! I won¡¯t lose her!¡± Jo braced herself and yanked her arm forward, sending Amale and Sakrattars flying. She was about to treat Leif to the same when a figure emerged from the cloud of smoke billowing out of the open doors. It was Kaja.

    And she wasn¡¯t alone.

    *

    *

    ¡°To the door!¡±

    Kaja heard Leif¡¯s command earlier, but instead of following her friends, she turned to the top of the stairs. She knew she had seen someone. Wood crackled and popped, spewing embers into the air. The smoke was hot; it stung her eyes and seared her lungs. A trail of fire twisted towards the stairs, devouring the runner in its path. Fear paralyzed her limbs and seized her heart as she stared wide-eyed at the rapidly burning room, fully digesting her situation. She should leave, turn around and flee before it consumed her too. She should save herself.

    Last time, she chose to run from the fire and bore that guilt and regret every day since.

    This time, she would face it.

    Willing her body to move, Kaja held her cloak to her mouth and dashed to the stairs. She didn¡¯t know what she could do, perhaps there was nothing, but she had to try.  She couldn¡¯t live with herself if she didn¡¯t. She could hardly live with herself already.

    There were several rooms branching off from the landing and no way for Kaja to tell which of them the person had retreated into. Kaja tried to call out but the moment she took a breath, she gagged and choked. She didn¡¯t have a choice; she would have to check the rooms one by one. The fire had started to spread up the walls. There wouldn¡¯t be much time.

    Kaja had already cleared two rooms when she heard coughing and followed the sound into a bed chamber. Her eyes quickly scanned the room: a large bed, two nightstands piled with books, a pair of eyeglasses on one. She was about to leave when she spotted movement underneath the bed. She kneeled down and came face to face with Saara.

    Saara recoiled in fear, crawling deeper under the bed, coughing as she did so. Her dark brown eyes were brimming with tears, both from the smoke and from her swirling emotions.

    ¡°I won¡¯t hurt you,¡± Kaja said, reaching out. ¡°We need to go, now.¡±

    The girls locked eyes and something clicked between them. Perhaps it was the mutual recognition of someone who had suffered a great loss, or perhaps it was the natural bond shared between those fighting for their lives. Or maybe it was a bit of both that compelled Saara to place her trembling hand in Kaja¡¯s and allow herself to be pulled from her hiding place.

    Kaja wasted no time. She tugged on Saara¡¯s arm, leading her back to the stairwell. But the fire had beaten them and the stairs were now a raging inferno.

    ¡°Another way down?¡±

    Saara shook her head, coughing. Out of ideas and out of time, Kaja dropped the cloak from her face and inhaled as deep as she could. Her head began to spin and the floor felt like it was tilting at weird angles. She exhaled a stream of frosty breath, the flames in their path freezing over in a hissing cloud of steam. Saara watched in awe as a thick layer of ice encased the burning stairs. Then Kaja fell to her knees.

    ¡°Go,¡± she gasped, unwrapping her fingers from Saara¡¯s. But Saara tightened her grip.

    ¡°Not without you,¡± she said. Clinging to each other for support, the girls slid down the icy stairs and stumbled for the open doors together. Kaja frosted over the flames that blocked their way, but each time she used her magic, Saara could feel her weakening.

    Within seconds that felt like an eternity, the girls staggered out of the doors. They could see the companions now, Sakrattars and Amale were picking themselves up off the ground while Leif was holding onto Jo¡¯s arm, Linnea standing close by. Their eyes went wide when they saw Kaja and Saara emerging from the smoke, leaning against one another.

    ¡°Kaja!¡± Jo cried. She broke her arm free from Leif¡¯s grip, something that didn¡¯t take much effort as both of them were running towards the girls.

    Kaja¡¯s vision blurred, her footing faltered. Saara was lagging but still Kaja pulled her forward, one agonizing step at a time. Were they far enough away from the fire?

    ¡°Kaja! Are you alright?¡± A familiar voice called out to her, one that was deep and safe, that brought to mind the gravelly chuffing of a protective mother cat. Kaja¡¯s strength failed, then Saara¡¯s, and they collapsed in the courtyard. Jo lifted both of them to her shoulder at once like a pair of logs. She and the party sprinted away from the burning house, just as the roof collapsed and the whole courtyard was bathed in a roaring fireball.

    Once they were a safe distance away, Jo knelt and placed the girls gently on the cold earth. The rest of the companions surrounded them, Amale immediately checking their vitals and scanning for injuries.

    Though the girls were unconscious, their fingers were still entwined in a desperate embrace.

    *

    *

    Jo sat at the mouth of the cave, watching the moon¡¯s silver light sparkle across the expanse of foothills below. Behind her was a chorus of snoring and steady breathing. A high-pitched cough caused her heart to skip in worry¡ªthe girls had inhaled so much smoke, they were lucky to be alive. By the time Kaja and Saara had recovered enough to travel, the sun had already set and there was discussion on where they should spend the night. Amale found a shallow cave tucked into the side of the mountain. Even though they were well-hidden, they planned to take turns as watch and Jo¡¯s shift was drawing to an end.

    Just as she was about to rouse Leif, she noticed that Kaja and Saara¡¯s bedrolls were empty and that the pair were huddled together in a dark corner of the cave. She opened her mouth to tell them to go back to sleep but quickly swallowed back her words.

    Saara was whimpering, her shoulders wracked with silent sobs. She wiped her face with the balls of her palms and sniffled. Kaja sat next to her in silence, their arms touching. After a moment, she reached out and pulled Saara into a hug.

    The girls had both lost so much, had their childhoods cruelly ripped away from them and were forced to live in fear of an enemy lurking just beyond the shadows. Jo clenched her fist. She still didn¡¯t know who the Irkallu were or what they wanted, but at this point she didn¡¯t care. The only thing she needed to know about them was what she was seeing right in front of her.

    And she was going to make them wish that they had never crossed her path.

 Session 5 - Aurea

    ¡°Would you accompany me to Aurea?¡±

    It had been a week since Linnea had asked.

    After leaving the burned ruins of Feriel¡¯s and Bandrigan¡¯s estate behind, the companions stopped back in Barsicum where Saara led them to her grandparents¡¯ home. The elderly elven couple weakened when they heard of their daughter¡¯s and son-in-law¡¯s deaths, tears streaming down their faces as they welcomed their granddaughter into their home. Linnea handled the situation with a cool grace, offering pretty, rehearsed words. It was not her first time delivering the news of an agent¡¯s death.

    Separating Kaja and Saara proved to be a more difficult task. Saara wanted to come along, insisting that her knowledge of magic tech could be useful. With a few days¡¯ time she could fashion herself a weapon and be ready to leave on an adventure. In the end, she was mollified only when Kaja promised that she would return to see her and Jo agreed that they would reevaluate their decision at this later date. Sakrattars pursed his lips, knowing that there would be no reconsidering.

    It was when they left Saara and her grandparents that Linnea had asked her question: ¡°Would you accompany me to Aurea?¡±

    She was going to deliver her full report at the Ordo Draconis headquarters and wanted the party to come along as corroborators. They had no reason to argue: Jo, Kaja, and Sakrattars were already on their way to Aurea when they had gotten sidetracked and Leif and Amale were fully committed to joining them in light of all they had seen.

    They spent the week traveling the winding roads south down through the Aurelian peninsula, passing through a number of towns along the way: Orium, Lanium, Pelagium. Linnea rented horses to ease their journey but the animals were spooked by Jo¡¯s presence.

    ¡°What do natiuhans ride, since horses are too small?¡± Leif had asked casually as they waited for the stablehand to bring their mounts around.

    ¡°We have no need.¡± Jo flashed a loaded smile. Leif quirked an eyebrow as he waited for an explanation that never came. Sakrattars sighed and shook his head.

    With Jo trailing behind on foot, while also nursing the injuries she sustained in the Fallen¡¯s attack, the trip took longer than Linnea had hoped. It was mid-morning on the eighth day when they finally reached the outskirts of the city.

    Originally a fortress during the Age of Blades, Aurea was built on an island just offshore, connected to the Aurelian mainland by a singular, wide causeway made of stones. As the city swelled in size, it outgrew its island and people started building on the peninsula proper. This area was mostly inhabited by farmers and fishermen, guardsmen who monitored traffic in and out, and merchants waiting for clearance to cross the bridge.

    As they rode through the streets, Leif shielded his eyes from the sun. ¡°Alright, who here has been to Aurea?¡± he asked with a grin. Jo shrugged. Kaja shook her head.

    ¡°I have, but usually by ship,¡± Sakrattars replied. Arvisian Bay was just a pleasant day trip across the calm waters of the gulf, the passage protected from rough ocean waves on three sides: the Aurelian peninsula in the west, Taracosia in the east, and the island of Arvis in the southeast. Conversely, the journey by land would take almost three weeks by horseback or wagon and was subject to bandit attacks and rough terrain.

    The looming spires of the guard towers drew ever closer. Seagulls cried overhead, swooping down through the crowds to scatter flocks of pigeons and steal the scraps accumulated in the gutters of the cobblestone road.

    ¡°There¡¯s a smell.¡± Kaja wrinkled her nose. ¡°Like rotting fish.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re getting close to the ocean,¡± Sakrattars said. ¡°It¡¯s probably the fishing boats down at the docks.¡±

    Kaja¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°The ocean?¡± She brought her horse to a sudden stop in the middle of the road and leapt down from its back.

    ¡°Kaja?¡± Jo cried. ¡°Where are you going?¡± But Kaja dashed away without explanation, leaving the companions to deal with fiery glares and angry shouting. Chaos erupted in Kaja¡¯s wake as she disturbed the flow of traffic. People carrying large jugs of wine and baskets of lentils snorted in derision as she pushed past them and two wagons nearly swerved into each other as the horses reared and nickered away from her.

    The crowds thinned when Kaja left the main thoroughfare. She rushed down the alley and burst out from between the two buildings. The sunny sky opened up above and the vast ocean spread below, an endless expanse of deep, sparkling blue stretching to the horizon and beyond. The sight reminded her of the ancient blue ice that her people shaped into their homes. She climbed atop the guard wall to get a better look.

    Gentle waves lapped at the dock below, rocking rows upon rows of small, wooden fishing boats decorated in colorful flags. She watched people as they repaired fishing nets, or dredged up traps and emptied giant marine snails into baskets. Birds flocked nearby, waiting for an opportunity to steal part of the catch. She didn¡¯t know how much time she spent drinking in all the sights and sounds and smells before her companions caught up to her.

    ¡°Don¡¯t run off like that,¡± Jo scolded. ¡°We¡¯re in the city now so you need to behave yourself.¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Kaja murmured.

    Leif laughed, attempting to lighten the mood. ¡°Would you look at that?¡± he exclaimed.

    Aurea, the golden capital of the Empire, stood high across the waters, its white stone buildings radiating the sun¡¯s light. So fully did the city cover the island that the land was no longer visible, creating an illusion that Aurea itself was floating, rising out of the sea like a great leviathan. The sheer size of the city defied the eye¡¯s attempt at perspective, making it seem much closer than it actually was. Splashes of color popped everywhere one looked: the red and orange clay roof tiles, the blue Imperial banners bearing the Gold Dragon insignia, clothes dyed in fanciful yellows, pinks, and greens hanging over balconies to dry. The bridge they were about to cross was wide enough for ten horse-carts to travel abreast, with dozens of arches linked together to reach across the sea. Clusters of black mussels and brown algae clung to the white stone just above the lapping water, the current flowing languidly among the pillars as the tide came in.

    Orderly lines of traffic filled the bridge¡¯s lanes: wagons, carriages, pull carts, those on horseback and those on foot, all traveling to and from Aurea¡¯s city center. The people were just as diverse as their modes of transport. A group of natiuhans towered over the rest, laughing at some private joke; kobolds shuffled alongside humans and elves, squinting their sensitive eyes in the bright midday light, their scales reflecting a rainbow of colors. The companions even spotted a few pairs of little mouse ears poking up from behind the guard wall, the ratfolk being too diminutive for any other part of them to be seen.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Linnea said. She had dropped off the horses, the party having agreed to go the rest of the way on foot. Linnea promised that it wasn¡¯t too far once they crossed the bridge.

    At the checkpoint, Linnea showed the guardsman her identification and he waved her and the rest of the companions on through, funneling them into the river of people making the crossing. Kaja¡¯s eyes were wide as dinner plates. She had never seen so many people in one place in her entire life. She was constantly bumping into someone, bowing in silent apology the way she had seen Sakrattars do. And the noise! Waves crashing, people shouting, babies crying, wheels rolling. It was as wondrous as it was overwhelming. She looked to her companions for their reactions but, to her disappointment, she seemed like the only one who was impressed. Jo, Sakrattars, Leif and Linnea were all focused on their objective and, though Amale¡¯s ears were flattened back, he was otherwise just as cool as the rest.

    Kaja¡¯s awe only compounded when they set foot in Aurea proper. The city was built like a maze with tall, multi-story buildings enclosing narrow streets that wound around the island like a spider¡¯s web. Concentric rings of fortified walls broke up the various neighborhoods, with the oldest around the bridge crossing where the original boundaries of the fortress once lay. Within the center of Aurea was the heart of the Empire itself, containing the senate, the palatial estate of the Emperor, various minor bureaucratic buildings, and of course the famed Academia Arcana.

    When Linnea said she would be putting the companions up in a safe house, Sakrattars imagined that the Ordo Draconis would place them somewhere around the center. But Linnea was leading them down a road that hugged the edge of the island rather than one that would lead further into the city.

    In what Sakrattars had noticed was a pattern with her, Linnea didn¡¯t offer any explanation until they reached their destination. She stopped them outside of a small, unassuming convent in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. The doors were carved with a prayer to the mother goddess Aia, beseeching her to bless the injured who passed through them.

    ¡°We have a cleric on call here,¡± Linnea said. ¡°This area is carefully monitored by the Ordo. You will be safe.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re staying in the convent?¡± Sakrattars asked.

    ¡°No, of course not. There¡¯s an apartment building behind it.¡±

    As Linnea led them down the corridor, they passed rooms full of ailing people. It was hardly quieter inside than out¡ªthe halls echoed with a woman¡¯s anguished wail followed by a baby¡¯s droning cry. Patients, loved ones, and caretakers hurried past the companions with barely a glance. Linnea ushered them into an empty room.

    ¡°Christina will attend to your injuries and show you to the safe house,¡± Linnea explained. ¡°The meeting won''t be for another few days. I''ll come calling for you then.¡±

    Without waiting for goodbyes, Linnea left the companions alone and slightly befuddled. However, it wasn¡¯t long before another woman joined them. She was human, robed in the habit of the Daughters of Aia, with smooth, olive skin and warm, brown eyes. Curly, dark brown hair cascaded down her shoulders, too voluminous to be kept at bay by the hood of her robes. Sakrattars could feel the tips of his ears warming and hoped that Christina''s beauty didn''t make his cheeks flush as well.

    After exchanging short greetings, Christina got to work. ¡°May I touch you?¡± she asked, crossing the room to Jo.

    Jo nodded and Christina lightly brushed the tips of her fingers along her ribs. Although it had been over a week since the Fallen raked her with his daggers, the wound had refused to close and still dripped with fresh blood. Christina knelt, inspecting the cut on Jo¡¯s calf. Jo stiffened and looked away, her whole face turning redder by the moment.

    ¡°Please, sit,¡± Christina urged, gesturing to the floor. Jo obeyed, her heart speeding up when she realized that she was now eye to eye with Christina. ¡°Relax,¡± she said gently. Jo didn¡¯t understand how she was supposed to relax when someone so lovely was so near.

    Christina, for her part, didn¡¯t seem to notice all the attention she was drawing. ¡°I¡¯ve been seeing more wounds like this one,¡± she said. ¡°Where did you get it?¡±

    Jo swallowed. She looked to the others for help but no one offered anything, not even Sakrattars, who normally jumped at the opportunity to show off his knowledge.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, that was foolish of me,¡± Christina amended in the silence. ¡°You do not have to say.¡± She drew a deep breath, closed her eyes and mumbled a prayer to Aia, and the constant pain Jo had been dealing with dissipated, smoothed away by the cooling hand of the divine. ¡°You will feel a bit tired,¡± Christina said as she walked over to Amale next. ¡°You will need to rest for the remainder of the day, after the doctor sees you.¡±

    ¡°Doctor?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I can clear the spiritual affliction but we are still left with an ordinary wound,¡± she said as she looked over Amale¡¯s forearm. She chanted the same prayer for him, the power of Aia flowing through her hands and transferring into Amale¡¯s body.

    ¡°Do you think maybe you could check me out as well?¡± Leif said as Christina was preparing to fetch the doctor.

    ¡°Where are you injured?¡±

    Leif smiled sheepishly, his face glowing pink under his blond beard. ¡°Well, you see, I pinched my hand in a saddle buckle and it hurt quite a lot . . .¡±

    *

    *

    ¡°That Christina was something else, wasn¡¯t she?¡± Leif sighed, lovestruck bliss in his voice.

    The companions were settled into their apartment, an unexpectedly spacious suite of three rooms and a common area with a kitchen. Amale was already asleep in one of the rooms.

    ¡°She certainly wasn¡¯t joking when she said that we¡¯d feel tired afterwards,¡± Jo quipped with a yawn. ¡°And would you look at that? Linnea even arranged for a mattress my size.¡±

    ¡°I suppose that leaves you and me, fancy elf,¡± Leif said. ¡°What do you say we pick up some food?¡±

    ¡°I was actually going to go to the Academia Arcana,¡± Sakrattars replied absently. ¡°Start on my research into the zmaj. Like I said I would,¡± he emphasized, staring straight at Jo.

    ¡°What, are you looking for thanks?¡±

    ¡°Some appreciation, yes.¡±

    Jo rolled her eyes. ¡°Oh, thank you, for keeping your end of the deal,¡± she said with mock gratitude. ¡°It¡¯s the least you can do in exchange for all the times I¡¯ve saved your ass.¡±

    Sakrattars snorted, indignant. ¡°I helped with the Fallen!¡±

    ¡°But it was me and Kaja who dealt the final blows.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Sakrattars snapped back. ¡°I¡¯m going and maybe, just maybe, I won¡¯t come back.¡±

    ¡°Yeah right,¡± Jo said dismissively. She bedded down, grateful to be sleeping someplace soft and not the floor of some Imperial-made inn.

    Sakrattars grabbed his things and left the apartment without another word. He had only taken a few steps when he heard the door open and close again behind him. He expected it to be Leif, complaining about boredom and looking for someone to keep him company, but was surprised when it turned out to be Kaja.

    ¡°Can I come?¡± she asked quietly.

    ¡°You¡ªyou want to come with me?¡±

    Kaja nodded.

    ¡°I was joking about not coming back, you know that, right?¡± he said. She didn¡¯t reply, just stared. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s going to be fun for you,¡± he added.

    ¡°I can help.¡±

    Sakrattars considered this. There could be merit in taking the zmaj along on a search for zmaj-related information. ¡°All right, let¡¯s go,¡± he acquiesced.

    Kaja¡¯s face beamed, her pupils narrowing into slits the way they always seemed to when she was excited about something. Sakrattars didn¡¯t understand what she was so happy about.

    ¡°But we need to get back before nightfall,¡± he said. ¡°If Jo wakes up and you¡¯re gone, it¡¯s going to be my hide.¡±

    *

    *

    As the cart pulled onto the Academia Arcana¡¯s campus, both Sakrattars and Kaja were awestruck by the sight. The buildings were tall, made of white and gray stone splashed with colorful murals and peppered with stained glass windows. A web of gravel paths weaving through neatly manicured gardens connected the buildings in an intricate lattice. Some of the paths were even covered by a dome of frosted glass, shielding their occupants from the elements. Rain was not a common occurrence in Aurea, and snow was unheard of, but even still students and teachers would not need to fear getting their precious magical components, scrolls, and books wet as they traveled between buildings.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    By the time Sakrattars paid the driver, Kaja was scurrying up the stairs to the library. He sighed happily, keeping one eye on Kaja while he gazed up at the stone columns bearing banners from all over Calthia. The giant lanterns framing the entrance acted as a beacon, an homage to the lantern that Thosis, the god of knowledge and magic, was said to carry.

    Sakrattars had dreamed of coming here one day, of studying in the famous halls where so many great scholars once mingled.

    He never imagined it would be under these circumstances.

    He watched students strolling through the courtyard, talking with their peers, while others were sitting on the steps, holding a meat bun or fried fish in one hand and a book in the other. This could have been his life, but would it have really felt like his?

    ¡°Kaja, wait for me!¡± he called out.

    He took a deep breath and started up the stairs.

    *

    *

    ¡°State your name and school.¡±

    Sakrattars shifted his weight nervously. ¡°Sakrattars Mistwood. I come from the University in Barsicum.¡±

    ¡°School?¡± the librarian repeated, a hint of irritation coloring her otherwise monotone voice.

    ¡°Divination.¡±

    At this, she glanced up, her steely gray eyes peering at him from behind a pair of spectacles perched on the bridge of her nose. ¡°And why are you here?¡±

    ¡°Marcos Bellfire sent me,¡± Sakrattars said, feeling an unexpected pang in his chest at his old teacher''s name. ¡°I am to copy a scroll and deliver it back to him.¡±

    ¡°And the girl?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s my . . . apprentice.¡±

    ¡°They''re giving apprentices to novice wizards in Barsicum now?¡±

    ¡°Why¡ªwhy do you think I''m a novice?¡± If Sakrattars wasn¡¯t so anxious, he¡¯d be insulted.

    The librarian didn¡¯t reply, just cast Sakrattars a deliberate look that was somehow more cutting than any words she could have said. Then she turned her attention to filling out her log book. Despite the flimsy lies, Sakrattars was beginning to think he had pulled it off. As long as that was the end of the questions and there weren¡¯t any more problems . . .

    Dread sank to the pit of Sakrattars¡¯ stomach when, despite his clear instructions, Kaja had taken to poking at a rare, magical artifact. His eyes darted desperately between her and the librarian, willing for either Kaja to stop or the librarian to allow them entry before something untoward happened.

    Then the inevitable struck.

    The artifact whirred to life, and Kaja jumped with a squeak and a flurry of snowflakes. When the mist cleared, the object was encased in ice, tendrils of frost running down the pedestal. The librarian¡¯s eyebrows shot up.

    ¡°She''s precocious, isn''t she?¡± Sakrattars forced an amiable laugh, grabbing Kaja by the arm and pulling her close. He gave her a squeeze that said ''cut it out'' and she straightened up, offering a shy, apologetic smile.

    The librarian studied their faces a moment longer, her piercing gaze lingering on Sakrattars, who was wearing his most friendly grin, before she pursed her lips and waved them in.

    As Sakrattars pushed open the intricately-carved door, he glared at Kaja. ¡°Don¡¯t touch anything this time. I mean it. It¡¯s a miracle she let us in.¡± Kaja sighed, her shoulders drooping. She gave a tense nod and followed him in.

    Once they were inside the atrium, Sakrattars¡¯ irritation evaporated. He had heard stories about the grand library of the Academia Arcana, the finest collection of books and magical artifacts outside of Thasrah''s Grand Madrassa of Thosis in the far western kingdom of Akalia, but the stories didn¡¯t do it justice. He stared up in barely concealed wonder at the white balconies of the upper floors, the gold leaf accents glittering in the sunbeams streaming through the skylights. Living plants filled the space, from dwarfed trees lovingly pruned into decorative shapes to the fragrant boxes of thyme and rosemary that instantly reminded Sakrattars of the taste of home. Behind glass cases, ancient flowers cultivated thousands of years ago were bound with time-stasis spells¡ªperfect for all eternity. Less potent versions of these spells had been cast on an ornamental cherry bonsai tree, its blossoms falling in slow motion, so the beautiful sight would last for years.

    Kaja was drawn to a fountain ringed with yellow marigolds. The spire in the middle was carved with various animal motifs: a lion, a bear, a warg. And at the very top, water shooting forth from its open maw, was a golden dragon. Her eyes widened. The dragon on the Empire¡¯s sigil was heavily stylized but the one on the fountain was made with attention to detail. Every scale, every fin, every tooth looked real. The eye, inlaid with rubies, made Kaja feel as if she were being watched.

    ¡°Where do we go?¡± she asked Sakrattars, turning away from the fountain and scanning the rows upon rows of bookshelves. Suddenly their task seemed much more daunting.

    ¡°We¡¯ll need to find the right section first,¡± Sakrattars said, spying a terminal. There was a notice posted above it in at least two dozen languages starting with Elvish and Imperial Common all the way through languages spoken in faraway kingdoms such as Volgarian, Thasran, and High Araviri. It said: NO SPELL CASTING ON LIBRARY GROUNDS ON PENALTY OF EXPULSION. Sakrattars swallowed, remembering Kaja¡¯s little trick out in the lobby. He hoped there wouldn¡¯t be any other such incidents. Another student was using the terminal so Sakrattars ushered Kaja over to wait.

    When it was their turn, Sakrattars gasped at the technology that lay before him. The terminal consisted of a painted glass panel with five crystals embedded in the front and a long, brass object suspended in a field of magic behind. Although he had heard of these terminals and knew how they operated in theory, Sakrattars had never used one before. The University in Barsicum still had a team of librarians who would manually search paper records to find reference material. This was cutting edge. Only the most advanced magic tech would do for one of the finest institutions on the continent.

    Sakrattars had hoped there would be instructions or at least some indication on how to use it but there was no such luck. He looked back at Kaja¡¯s innocently eager face. She bounced on the balls of her feet, waiting for him to do something. Someone else had already lined up behind them too. Sakrattars felt his nerves fraying.

    ¡°Here, take Bartholomew and stand over there,¡± Sakrattars said, shoving the toad into Kaja¡¯s arms.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°I need to think and I can¡¯t think with you staring at me like that.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    With Kaja otherwise occupied, Sakrattars turned his attention back to the terminal. He frowned and reached for the brass object.

    ¡°New here?¡±

    The voice nearly made him jump out of his skin. The young man behind him in line gave a friendly wave.

    ¡°We''re from Barsicum,¡± Sakrattars said, pausing to catch his breath.

    ¡°Ah,¡± the man nodded in understanding, ¡°do you want me to help you?¡±

    ¡°If you could just show me once, I ought to pick it up.¡±

    The man smiled, a crooked, playful gesture. ¡°Confident, are you? Well don''t touch the memory dial, first of all. May I?¡± He offered his hand. Bewildered, Sakrattars gave him his. The man gently pressed Sakrattars¡¯ fingertips into the five crystals. ¡°That''s to activate the conduit,¡± he explained. Sakrattars felt the man was standing entirely too close for what the demonstration required. A blush crept up his ears. He was relieved when the man released him.

    The crystals glowed, a stream of magic flowing into the channels under the glass and illuminating a complex pattern feeding the aura around the brass memory dial. ¡°Now tell it what you¡¯re searching for,¡± the man said.

    Sakrattars hesitated. He couldn''t possibly say ¡°zmaj¡±, not with this man standing right next to him. ¡°People of Calthia,¡± he stated. The dial activated, its disks rotating backwards and forwards, clicking into place one by one. When the final disk stopped, a backflow of magic surged into Sakrattars and he saw a brief vision of a row of bookcases. A sign on the wall said IIB. When the vision faded, Sakrattars was left staring dumbstruck at the terminal. The dial was made with a memory crystal! Was there no limit for the Academia Arcana?

    ¡°Did you see it?¡± the man asked.

    ¡°Yes, thank you for your help,¡± Sakrattars said, giving him a polite nod goodbye. He beckoned Kaja to follow.

    After ascending to the second floor, Sakrattars quickly picked out section B and set to work skimming the titles for books that could be useful. Whenever he spotted one, he took it from the shelf and handed it to Kaja. When Kaja''s balance started to waver, Sakrattars relieved her of half the load and found a desk by the balcony.

    ¡°You go through that pile, alright?¡± Sakrattars said. ¡°I''ll go through these.¡±

    Kaja nodded dutifully and sat down with her assigned books. But several minutes in, Sakrattars noticed that Kaja was still on the same page.

    ¡°What''s wrong?¡±

    ¡°There are no pictures.¡±

    ¡°No, but you can read them, right?¡± It was only after Kaja¡¯s cheeks flushed a bright rose did Sakrattars realize. Kaja¡¯s native tongue, Draconic, had no written form and, although she was becoming more fluent by the day, she still struggled with speaking Imperial Common. It was foolish of him to assume she¡¯d have the reading proficiency needed to help.

    Kaja paused, her brow furrowing in frustration and embarrassment. ¡°I can read. Some. The books are hard.¡±

    Sakrattars sighed. If Kaja knew she couldn''t read well enough, then why did she even ask to come along? It didn¡¯t make any sense. ¡°Don''t worry about it then. I¡¯ll do all of the reading.¡± Sakrattars glanced around. Was there a children''s section? Not likely. ¡°You can do whatever you want while I do. Just don¡¯t go too far. I¡¯m going to stay right here.¡±

    Kaja¡¯s gaze hit the floor. ¡°Okay,¡± she murmured.

    ¡°And Kaja? Remember¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡ªdon''t touch anything,¡± they finished in unison.

    As Kaja wandered off, Sakrattars turned his attention back to the book at hand. It was a dull tome, penned in old Imperial Common and creatively titled The Complete Index of the Peoples of Calthia Both Living and Dead. Sakrattars had already tried the glossary and saw no entry for zmaj. That would have been too easy, he supposed. Although nearly one thousand years old, the book was still well known in academic circles so if zmaj were cataloged in it, Sakrattars likely would have heard about it. But perhaps the word ¡°zmaj¡± was just what zmaj called themselves and they were known by a different name elsewhere.

    Sakrattars carefully turned the pages, searching for anything that might hint at their existence. He passed by the usual entries: humans, elves, natiuhans (he noted with some amusement that the author apparently didn''t know about their shapeshifting abilities), kobolds, ratfolk. Some entries gave him pause, however, such as the one on a people called the sylvan, who were supposedly more plant than person, with bark for skin and leaves for hair, and sprouted flowers from their back and shoulders. According to the author, they lived deep in the forests of Balthissica and had not been seen for hundreds of years at the time of writing.

    He continued on like that until the light turned an amber hue, casting long shadows through the library. An apprentice librarian began their rounds illuminating the crystal sconces and hanging lamps. At night, the library took on a completely different personality than during the day. It was dark and contemplative, the crystals glowing in ethereal blues and pinks and purples, providing just enough light for the less-sighted, such as humans, to be able to read. The shadows of the slumbering plants and the quiet trickle of the fountains relaxed Sakrattars so much that he caught himself closing his eyes before long. The length of the day caught up to him¡ªthat morning he had woken up at an inn a couple hour¡¯s ride outside of Aurea and now his body was reminding him of it.

    He opened his eyes, his blank stare lingering on the pile of books he had yet to search. There was nothing he wanted to do less at the moment than keep going through them. They probably didn¡¯t even contain what he was looking for¡ªit was abundantly clear that the zmaj didn¡¯t exist as far as anyone in the Aurean Empire, past or present, knew. He groaned and knocked his forehead against the table top in exasperation. This whole thing was just a fool¡¯s errand.

    Then one last idea came to him as he was reclining back in his chair. There was a minor detail that had been nagging him since they had left Bandrigan¡¯s and Feriel''s estate, something that he hoped would give him a fresh lead.

    Lucretia had mentioned the name ¡°Norsivex¡±.

    Sakrattars knew of only one Norsivex, a warlord from Arvis who had enjoyed a brief rule over much of central Calthia before he was defeated during the Siege of Aurea, but he couldn''t say what the connection to the Irkallu was, if any. Lucretia may have been talking about a different Norsivex. After all, the warlord Norsivex had been dead for over two thousand years. But if Sakrattars could figure out who Lucretia¡¯s Norsivex was, he might be able to backtrack towards information on Fallen and then onto zmaj.

    Sakrattars revisited the terminal, asking it to search for ¡°Norsivex¡±. As he expected, the terminal directed him to books on ancient history or military strategy. Sakrattars plucked one from the shelf, an End to the Age of Blades: Norsivex¡¯s Conquest and Murder, and returned to his desk. The book was dense and comprehensive but it was written in Old Elvish, a language more related to the lingua arcana than to the Imperial Elvish that Sakrattars grew up speaking. Sakrattars could read it but it would take some time. He muttered a few curses to pretentious elven scholars as he flipped through the pages.

    He was deep in thought, attempting to parse out whether a certain phrase meant someone was feeling warm or literally burst into flames, when his ears perked to the sound of footsteps.

    *

    *

    Kaja stared upside down at the dragon statue spewing water, kicking her feet idly over the edge of the fountain. Several people gave her odd looks as they passed by but no one bothered her. Kaja had been all over the main library, exploring up and down the rows of bookshelves, counting how many of each type of plant she could find, and slowly pacing back and forth beneath the arched trees. After she ran out of ideas, she laid down on the fountain and looked up through the skylights, the glow of the colorful crystals framing her view of the stars. Maybe she should have stayed at the safe house after all. She wondered when Sakrattars would want to leave. He did say he wanted to be back before nightfall and nightfall had happened what felt like ages ago.

    She pulled herself up. Sakrattars was still at the balcony-side desk on the floor above but there was someone else talking to him now. Kaja squinted. It was the man from the terminal earlier! Maybe Sakrattars asked him for help since she couldn¡¯t read the books . . .

    She sighed, made up her mind, and hurried up the stairs.

    ¡°¡ªwe could stop by the forum on the way, pick up some grilled skewers and a jug of wine,¡± the man was saying as Kaja approached. ¡°Ah, your little apprentice. That¡¯s perfect. She can finish up your research for you.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m really not interested,¡± Sakrattars replied.

    The man paused and the three stood in awkward silence. ¡°Alright,¡± he said, ¡°fair enough. But if you change your mind before you go back to Barsicum, you know where to find me.¡± He winked at Sakrattars, flashed Kaja a warm smile, and headed to the staircase.

    ¡°What did he want?¡± Kaja asked.

    Sakrattars blushed to the tips of his ears. ¡°Who? That guy?¡± He rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°Uh, nothing you need to concern yourself with. So what have you been doing?¡±

    ¡°Sitting.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Sakrattars said, ¡°that¡¯s . . . nice.¡±

    Kaja shifted her weight, tugging on her dress. ¡°Can I leave?¡±

    ¡°And go where?¡±

    ¡°Back.¡±

    Sakrattars nearly choked. ¡°By yourself? No way, Jo would murder me.¡±

    ¡°But I don''t want to be here anymore.¡±

    ¡°I''m sorry, Kaja, but this is for your own good, you know. And I told you this wasn''t going to be fun.¡±

    ¡°You said we¡¯d be done by nightfall. Jo will be angry.¡±

    ¡°The sun just barely set and I only have a few more books to look at. We¡¯ll be back before the oil lamps darken.¡±

    Kaja groaned and draped herself over the balcony railing. She spotted the man Sakrattars had been speaking to heading to the main entrance. As if he felt her eyes on him, he turned back and looked up directly at her. She started, her heart pounding, but he just gave a friendly wave and left.

    Kaja slumped back with a sigh. She wished she could leave too.

    *

    *

    ¡°Ahem.¡±

    Sakrattars opened his eyes to a librarian standing over him, hands on his hips, the soft light of dawn illuminating the deep creases of his frown. Feeling his heart shoot into his throat, Sakrattars immediately sat up in the chair and both Bartholomew and Kaja, who had been leaning up against him fast asleep, crashed to the floor.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a dormitory, you know,¡± the librarian growled in a deep baritone.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Sakrattars stood up and bowed. He forced Kaja¡¯s head down into a bow too after she got back up on groggy legs. The librarian sniffed.

    ¡°Finish up here and leave.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    Sakrattars looked at the scattered mess of books on the desk in defeat. He had found no mention of the zmaj in any of them nor had he seen reference to anything resembling the Fallen. Norsivex was just a man. A successful conqueror and a failed ruler, yes, but there was nothing to suggest that he was anything more. Lucretia must have been referring to a different Norsivex, one not in any book.

    ¡°I¡¯m hungry,¡± Kaja said, handing Bartholomew back.

    ¡°Me too,¡± Sakrattars replied. Then a terrifying thought sliced through what remained of his exhaustion: they were gone all night. More specifically, he had kept Kaja out all night. Jo was going to be livid.

    *

    *

    The man from the library walked through the broken streets of Undertown, a magical light guiding his way through the dark, dank ruins that lay beneath Aurea. He whistled a cheerful tune as he went, catching the eye of curious ratfolk and wary kobolds. Turning casually into an alley, he rapped on a door three times.

    ¡°We don¡¯t want any,¡± a voice hissed from the other side.

    ¡°I¡¯m certain that you do,¡± he said. ¡°My wares come all the way from Amun.¡±

    There was a brief rustling of chains and the door creaked open.

    ¡°Joris,¡± said a ratfolk, gesturing to her two guards to stand by the door. She circled around him, her tail whipping through the air.

    ¡°Shorga.¡±

    ¡°You better have a good reason for being here. Madame Jezzail is very busy preparing for the operation.¡± Shorga was half Joris¡¯s height but he didn¡¯t dare look down on her as she spoke. He knew how the game was played.

    ¡°I found the girl. The one with white hair.¡±

    Shorga¡¯s mouth dropped open, her whiskers twitched. ¡°Are you absolutely certain?¡±

    ¡°Fairly certain, yes. She was in the library at the Academia Arcana with an elf.¡±

    ¡°And the natiuhan?¡±

    ¡°Nowhere to be seen. But you don¡¯t expect a brute like that to go to a place like the library.¡±

    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you seize her?¡±

    ¡°In the middle of the library?¡± Joris scoffed. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me that you¡¯re that stupid. I tried to lure the elf away but he wouldn¡¯t budge. There wasn¡¯t anything I could do. But she¡¯s here in Aurea. I thought your master would like to know.¡±

    Shorga mulled over this information. Though she didn¡¯t know or care about the Irkallu¡¯s intentions, she did know how much Lord Alistair wished to find this girl. If she played her cards right, she could use this as an opportunity to curry Madame Jezzail¡¯s favor. She waved a paw and her guards grabbed Joris¡¯ arms. He struggled against them but they held him tight.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Joris cried.

    ¡°Cleaning up,¡± said Shorga, her words punctuated with sadistic glee.

    She drew her knife.

 Session 6 - Operation Black Cloud

    Ordo Draconis agents filed into the subterranean audience chamber. Light from freshly-oiled sconces reflected off the bright white walls and the gold threading on banners bearing the Imperial sigil. The seating was arranged in concentric circles, with a curved council table off to one side. Linnea led the companions to sit with her in one of the middle rings. It had been almost a week since they arrived in Aurea and the long-awaited meeting was about to get underway.

    ¡°Grandmistress Anya,¡± the herald announced. All the agents stood in salute and the companions clumsily rose to their feet to do the same.

    The leader of the Ordo Draconis made her way to her seat at the council table. Despite her noble bearing, she was humbly dressed in a plain, navy blue robe, her curly gray-blonde hair pulled away from her face with a simple tie. The simplicity of her dress seemed at odds with the enormous reverence shown to her as the room fell silent when she entered. Though elderly, she was tall and stood up straight, her eyes clear and piercing. Kaja¡¯s stomach churned as she watched the Grandmistress take a seat. Something about the old woman made her nervous.

    ¡°The meeting is called to order,¡± the chairman said, her deep, strong voice easily carrying to the back of the hall. ¡°Our first petitioner is¡±¡ªshe squinted at a sheaf of parchment papers¡ª¡°Agent Ulla. Step forward.¡±

    As Agent Ulla stood in the center of the room, reporting on the growing difficulties on southwest trade routes, Sakrattars couldn¡¯t help but wonder why he and his companions had been invited. They were the only people in attendance not wearing the navy blue of the Ordo and, furthermore, Jo was the only natiuhan present and Amale the only lycaeon. In short, they stood out like a sore thumb. Sakrattars noticed more than one agent eying them discreetly but Linnea either didn¡¯t see or didn¡¯t mind, and Grandmistress Anya had not looked their way at all.

    ¡°Agent Dimitri Vasiliyev,¡± the chairman summoned once Agent Ulla was finished. A young man in his early thirties entered the circle. He was handsome, with suntanned skin, wavy black hair, and a short, well-groomed beard. His dark brown eyes had an alluring, mischievous sparkle.

    ¡°My friends,¡± he began cordially, his Volgarian accent thick. Leif frowned. Stjornugaard and Volgaria were ancient enemies, with no love lost between their people. ¡°Gorzog Ironfang of the Snowskull Steppes can no longer be ignored. He has amassed an army of several thousand strong and has been slaughtering all who stand in his way. The only city he has yet to breach is the ferix stronghold of Forgeheart.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Forgeheart Keep, actually,¡± said a bored agent seated in the front row.

    ¡°No, actually, it¡¯s not. Only outsiders call it that,¡± Dimitri said, gaining a few murmurs from the crowd.

    ¡°The orcs and the ferix have been killing each other on the other side of the Datharian wall since the beginning of time,¡± an older man seated at the council said. ¡°Why should it be any concern of the Empire? We have plenty of our own problems.¡±

    ¡°Because, Councilor Barla, if Forgeheart falls, Ironfang is out of targets in the Steppes. There will be nothing stopping him from uniting the last of the Snowskull orc tribes, and then he will turn his gaze southward to Datharia. And, as you so eloquently stated, the Empire does not have the resources to repel such an attack, especially since the Balthissican front is draining many of our supplies as it is.¡±

    Barla was unmoved. ¡°We don¡¯t know that¡ªIronfang could go north too. Into Volgaria.¡±

    A flash of anger ignited in Dimitri¡¯s eyes, vaporizing his easy-going persona. ¡°Volgaria! If he was, I would lead him there myself!¡± he snapped. ¡°The ferix could be a powerful Imperial ally. Grandmistress,¡± he implored, ¡°you must see the wisdom of what I¡¯m saying. Ironfang is no petty warlord; he¡¯s a conqueror. And conquerors don¡¯t stop until someone stops them.¡±

    Grandmistress Anya nodded her head once in assent. ¡°I understand, Agent Vasiliyev.¡± Her voice was deep and calm, at once commanding respect and gentle from age. ¡°However, Councilor Barla also has a valid point. Our legions are few and our agents fewer. I¡¯m afraid we cannot ask this of the Empire.¡±

    Dimitri¡¯s jaw tensed and he turned away, heading back to his seat without another word.

    Agent after agent spoke before the chamber, covering the goings-on in every corner of the Empire. Kaja leaned forward, her chin in her hands, her eyes glazed over in boredom, and Sakrattars had to elbow Jo in the ribs to stop her from drifting off to sleep. Without the sun it was impossible to tell what time it was, but it felt like the entire day had passed them by.

    ¡°¡ªthen the shepherd said that his wife and children saw a dragon in the sky.¡±

    Jo sat up, Amale¡¯s ears shot forward, and Leif¡¯s eyes went wide. The companions weren¡¯t the only ones shocked back into attention by the claim: a cacophony of whispers instantly rippled through the audience.

    ¡°Where was this again?¡± one agent asked.

    ¡°Just outside Hale,¡± the reporting agent confirmed.

    ¡°Hale! If a dragon flew by Hale, we¡¯d be able to feel its wingbeats in Aurea!¡±

    ¡°Did anyone else see it?¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°It seems that it was late morning and most of the farmers were already inside at the time. The shepherd himself was out delivering milk.¡±

    ¡°How do we know that she didn¡¯t just see a condor and let her imagination get the better of her? Perhaps she was suffering from the heat and got confused . . .¡±

    ¡°I asked her. She said, and I quote, ¡®I have two children under the age of ten. I ought to know what dragons look like since everything in my home is covered in them.¡¯¡±

    There were a few quiet chuckles.

    ¡°Regardless, the thought of seeing a dragon is absurd! We don¡¯t even know if any of the monsters still exist.¡±

    ¡°Dragons are still out there, sir agent, I assure you,¡± Leif said, standing. ¡°I¡¯ve seen them and the destruction they wreak with my own eyes.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps they still have dragons in Stjornugaard,¡± a councilor said, clearly identifying Leif¡¯s strong accent, ¡°but a dragon hasn¡¯t been seen in Aurelia for hundreds of years.¡± Leif clenched a fist but sat down without reply.

    ¡°Even so,¡± the reporting agent continued, ¡°we have hired a bestienj?ger to comb the hills around Hale looking for signs of a dragon.¡±

    ¡°I hope they get torched,¡± Jo growled under her breath. Natiuhans had a well-known hatred for bestienj?gers, people who hunted dangerous beasts for money and glory. Sakrattars shifted in his seat. The tension within their row was becoming unbearable. Fortunately the chairman dismissed the agent before any more offense could be dispensed, and called upon Linnea next.

    Linnea delivered her report with stoicism, relating the details of Feriel¡¯s and Bandrigan¡¯s violent deaths at Lucretia¡¯s hand with a calm, even tone. Notably, she did not mention Kaja¡¯s identity or the encounter with the Fallen on the road to Barsicum. Linnea asked Sakrattars to speak about the memory crystals. She didn¡¯t call on anyone else. Perhaps she assessed that Sakrattars would be a more impartial witness than Leif or Jo, and that Amale wasn¡¯t the public speaking type, but it only served to further confuse Sakrattars as to why they had all been summoned to attend in the first place.

    ¡°My agents are searching for Lucretia¡¯s location as we speak,¡± Linnea concluded. ¡°I hope to have an update soon.¡±

    When they were done, Grandmistress Anya gestured to Linnea and the pair disappeared into a hidden room behind a banner on the wall. Before the banner swung back into place, the Grandmistress looked over her shoulder, making direct eye contact with Kaja. A shot of adrenaline ran down Kaja¡¯s spine.

    The chairman cleared her throat. ¡°That concludes today¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°Excuse me, I haven¡¯t had a chance to speak yet.¡± A ratfolk with soft, gray fur and large, pink ears padded forward, carrying a stack of documents almost as tall as she was. Her long, hairless tail swished behind her. She dropped the stack on the floor with an ¡°oof¡± and patted the top.

    ¡°Ah, erm¡ª¡±

    ¡°Kisha. Kisha Flickwhisker,¡± the ratfolk prompted. ¡°I¡¯m based right here in Aurea.¡±

    ¡°Undertown, maybe,¡± someone sitting near the party muttered to themselves.

    ¡°Kisha Flickwhisker. Go ahead,¡± the chairman said. Grumbles coursed through the room as agents who had gotten up to leave took their seats once more.

    ¡°I had hoped the Grandmistress would have been present to hear this,¡± Kisha started. ¡°I have evidence of an Irkallu plot taking place right here in Aurea.¡±

    Gasps and mutters surged through the ranks.

    ¡°Impossible!¡±

    ¡°Quite possible,¡± Kisha continued. ¡°We''ve discovered that Jezzail Toxinrot, who has been recruiting off our streets for months, is now masterminding an alchemical attack on Undertown. If I could just have a few more agents¡ª¡±

    ¡°If I remember correctly, Jezzail Toxinrot is a member of the Nightrunners, not the Irkallu,¡± a councilor said. ¡°They are seditionists, surely, but not our main threat.¡±

    Kisha faltered. ¡°. . .yes, but we have reason to believe that the Nightrunners have connections to the Irkallu. You can''t pretend that this is a local issue anymore.¡±

    ¡°The Nightrunners have never posed a serious threat. Why should this be any different? We don''t have the agents to spare on another one of your alarmist reports.¡±

    Kisha smacked the pile of documents heatedly. ¡°My b . . .b . . . my agent almost gave his life to uncover these plans! He might still give his life,¡± she added softly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t disagree,¡± someone else spoke up, ¡°but we need to be realistic about what the senate will say. They will not approve allocating resources to something¡ª¡±

    ¡°Something that they see as Undertown¡¯s problem?¡± Kisha fired back. A chorus of voices filled the room, opinions drowning out one another in a desperate bid to be heard.

    ¡°Let her speak,¡± Dimitri said loudly. He rapped his sheathed cutlass against the stone floor in a series of loud, echoing reports. ¡°Let her speak!¡±

    Kisha nodded to him once in thanks. ¡°The s . . . the s . . .¡±¡ªher tail whipped in frustration¡ª¡°we can¡¯t let politics blind us. You¡¯re happy to stay behind these walls but people are suffering on the other side. ¡®What has the Aurean Empire ever done for you?¡¯ the Irkallu ask, and most of the people down here can¡¯t give a clear answer back.¡± Her voice grew stronger, fueled by her conviction. ¡°We¡¯re practically g . . . gift-wrapping new recruits for them. Imagine what happens if word gets out that we knew an attack was coming and did nothing to defend the innocent?¡±

    A heavy silence blanketed the chamber, Kisha¡¯s words reverberating off the hollow walls. Amale sat up in his seat. He thought of his hometown in Acathia, a village where the only future the youth could imagine existed outside of it. The Aurean Empire had promised Acathia so much and delivered so little. Amale thought of how well such a line would resonate in the hearts of his own people. His ears lowered as he realized he himself might have been tempted if he didn¡¯t already know who the Irkallu really were.

    ¡°We will review your files,¡± the chairman said at last, with vain hope that the Grandmistress would reappear and handle the situation for her. ¡°But you must understand: we¡¯re losing too many agents and we need to prioritize what¡¯s most important to the Empire.¡±

    Kisha¡¯s whiskers twitched. ¡°What could be more important than Aurea?¡±

    *

    *

    The meeting ended and Linnea regrouped with the companions, asking them if they wouldn¡¯t mind staying in Aurea until she could confirm Lucretia¡¯s location. They had no outright objections¡ªSakrattars planned on conducting some more research and Jo figured that Kaja would be safest in the city under the watchful eye of the Ordo. Their business settled, they ventured into the city for a late lunch.

    Sakrattars sat down with the others and unfolded the kelp parcel he had procured, revealing a pile of steamed mussels in a bed of tomatoes, garlic, and lemons. Leif snatched a pot of sauce from a neighboring table.

    ¡°Anyone object?¡± he asked as he opened the lid. Kaja sniffed it and her eyes pinned, the salty, fishy odor instantly tantalizing her senses.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want it.¡± Jo shook her head.

    ¡°Come on, even Kaja likes it,¡± Leif joked as he poured it over half of the mussels. Kaja picked one up, the shell overflowing with the fermented sauce, and popped the entire thing in her mouth.

    ¡°Don¡¯t eat the shell!¡± Jo cried. Kaja paused, then chewed with a sickening crunch. Jo sighed.

    ¡°How about you, Amale?¡± Leif asked. Amale, his gaze distant, flicked an ear. But when Leif went to pour more sauce, both ears quickly flattened against the back of his head. ¡°Alright, I get it. You don¡¯t like it either.¡± He put down the pot and grabbed a mussel, drinking the juices from the shell. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± The two sat in silence, listening to Sakrattars show Kaja how to use the stick to pick the meat. Leif just used his fingers. ¡°It¡¯s Kisha, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Amale¡¯s ears lowered. ¡°I keep thinking about her. Her report,¡± he clarified when the corner of Leif¡¯s lips curled into a grin. ¡°Why don¡¯t they help her?¡±

    Leif¡¯s smile disappeared. ¡°Politics,¡± he answered grimly. ¡°Seems like whoever is holding the Ordo¡¯s chain has decided Undertown isn¡¯t worth the trouble.¡±

    Amale looked away, despondent. At one point, Aurea had decided that Acathia wasn¡¯t ¡°worth the trouble¡± either. A spark of anger flickered inside his heart.

    Leif studied his old friend¡¯s face carefully, then reached across the table and rested a hand on his arm. ¡°I heard that they¡¯re treating her agent at the convent. Let¡¯s ask Christina about it when we get back.¡± Amale nodded, his ears softening.

    They turned their attention back to the meal in time to witness Kaja dipping an entire sausage into the sauce pot.

    Leif guffawed, patting her back. ¡°With that attitude, you¡¯ll be a proper Aurean in no time!¡±

    *

    *

    ¡°I¡¯ve done all I can for him,¡± Christina said, looking into the room where Kisha¡¯s agent, a ratfolk named Barli, lay, struggling for his life. ¡°This toxin is unknown to us. All I can do is ease his pain with prayer.¡± Barli was placed on a straw bed, surrounded by bundles of aromatic herbs and shallow, pewter saucers of rose water. A single black crow¡¯s feather, a symbol of Aia¡¯s purifying power, lay across his chest, rising and falling with each shuddering breath.

    ¡°Poison,¡± Jo grumbled, ¡°a coward¡¯s weapon.¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡± Leif asked quietly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know the details, but I heard he was caught in the cloud of an alchemical bomb. What ingredients were used, I can¡¯t say. I wish we knew, then maybe we could better help him.¡±

    Sakrattars swallowed, remembering Kisha¡¯s claim that an alchemical attack on Undertown was imminent. How many would suffer; how many would die?

    ¡°Do you know where we can find Kisha?¡± Amale said suddenly. His jaw was set, his head held high. Leif knew that look: Amale was going to help her, alone if he had to.

    Christina crossed her arms thoughtfully. ¡°There¡¯s a barracks not too far from here. I can tell you how to get there. I don¡¯t know if she¡¯ll be there though.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going with you,¡± Leif said to Amale. ¡°Don¡¯t think I¡¯ll let you do this by yourself.¡±

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°Me too,¡± Jo added. Both Sakrattars and Kaja nodded in agreement. Amale¡¯s eyes brightened, his tail wagging once with a gentle swish.

    *

    *

    Kisha cracked open the door. ¡°May I help you?¡±

    Amale didn¡¯t say anything right away, so Leif jumped in instead. ¡°Hello, we were at the meeting earlier today.¡±

    Kisha twitched her nose. ¡°I remember. You were with Agent Linnea.¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Leif continued. ¡°We don¡¯t mean to intrude but we were wondering if we could help you.¡±

    ¡°You. You want to help me?¡± Kisha¡¯s eyes went wide.

    ¡°If you¡¯ll have us.¡±

    Kisha glanced over the companions. Her eyebrow raised slightly when she saw Kaja but she said nothing of it. She closed the door, unlatched the chain, and swung it open, welcoming them into her humble apartment. It was incredibly small and cramped, Leif, Amale, and Sakrattars all having to duck their heads to avoid the ceiling. Jo took one look inside and sat down in the hallway. Kisha smiled sheepishly. ¡°I¡¯ll leave the door open for you . . .¡± she said.

    Books and parchments lay all over the floor and clothes were draped across every surface of the room. Pinned to the wall, amid a scattering of maps and annotated documents, was a prominently-placed charcoal drawing of a nude ratfolk, impressively realistic and luridly detailed. Kisha hastily tore it down, crumpled it up, and kicked it under her bed.

    ¡°We visited Barli at the convent,¡± Leif said solemnly.

    Kisha¡¯s ears fell. ¡°He was working within the Nightrunners. S . . .someone must have blown his cover.¡±

    ¡°Who are the Nightrunners? You said they were partnered with the Irkallu?¡± Sakrattars asked.

    ¡°I believe so, yes. They¡¯re an extremist, anti-Aurelian group from Undertown who ostensibly want to overthrow the Aurean government. They claim they are avenging Imperial injustices against their fellow ratfolk, but you¡¯d never know it considering they¡¯ve only ever hurt us,¡± Kisha sighed. ¡°And yet the senate does nothing to help us either, thus proving the Nightrunners correct in a way. It¡¯s a horrible cycle, one I¡¯ve been working hard to end.¡±

    ¡°And the Irkallu?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think the Irkallu care about the Nightrunners¡¯ cause. They only back them to sow further discontent within the Empire.¡±

    ¡°What about the attack?¡± Amale said. It was the first time he had spoken and his stomach fluttered when Kisha looked his way.

    ¡°Barli uncovered the location of a large weapon cache, poisonous bombs and alchemical weapons, as well as a plan to set them off and blame the senate¡¯s inaction.¡± Kisha gestured to a document on her wall. At the top, in big, block letters, it read OPERATION BLACK CLOUD. ¡°I know where they are, I know what they¡¯re doing, but I don¡¯t have the agents to spare for a raid. As you saw, the senate doesn¡¯t even consider it a threat.¡±

    Jo shrugged. ¡°Will we be enough?¡±

    The corner of Kisha¡¯s lip turned up into a plucky half-grin. ¡°I¡¯m willing to give it a try if you are.¡±

    *

    *

    The next day, Kisha led the companions into Undertown. The neighborhood was built among the dilapidated, salt-covered ruins of ancient Aurea. Sakrattars wondered if the remains of the two thousand year old Aurean fortress, rumored to have been defended by the great goddess Aegis herself, now housed a humble family of kobolds. Despite the network of magical lamps lining the roads (set up by the archaeologists at the Academia Arcana for their own convenience, Kisha explained), Undertown was extremely dark, almost too dark for Leif or Jo to see. Kisha assured them that their eyes would adjust as they walked the damp, eroded street. Jo had her doubts. A drop of brackish water fell onto her head and she shook out her red curls irritably.

    Dark and damp though it was, it could hardly be called gloomy or empty. Undertown looked like some of the market districts in Aurea above, just with everything scaled down to ratfolk-size and crammed together much tighter than anything seen on the surface. Ratfolk of every description, vocation, and fur color made their way along the narrow streets.

    ¡°Sorry, we have to use the main road,¡± Kisha said. She turned sideways to slip between two ratfolk crossing the street in opposite directions. She did so effortlessly, without even seeming to realize it. Sakrattars noted that all the ratfolk were not so much walking but flowing effortlessly around each other. It was a good bet that nearly all had been born and raised in these crowded warrens and were quite used to the traffic. ¡°The side roads might be too small for . . . uh . . . some of us,¡± Kisha finished, making a point not to look at Jo.

    Apartments and buildings two or three stories tall stretched toward the ceiling¡ªwhich itself was the strong, rocky foundations that kept the city of Aurea secure. Though the buildings were made of secondhand materials¡ªscrap wood, discarded bricks, parts of ships, even driftwood¡ªclearly a lot of love, care, and craftsmanship had gone into their construction. Every surface was painted, carved, engraved, or all three. Businesses had signs featuring cute, stylized renditions of ratfolk availing themselves of whatever services were available inside. Kaja was endlessly charmed by them, tugging on either Sakrattars¡¯ sleeve or Jo¡¯s hand to point out each new one she spotted.

    Kobolds, their bright, colorful scales standing out even among the garishly-clothed ratfolk, also called Undertown home. Though not as numerous at the ratfolk, they hawked wares, swept porches, and chatted amicably in their peculiar dialect. Children, kobold and ratfolk, played together, snaking around the dark, crowded ruins with ease.

    The companions finally turned off the main roads and, much to Jo¡¯s relief, the band of curious onlookers, many of whom had never seen a natiuhan in Undertown before, grew bored and dispersed. But just as her mood was starting to improve, the paths grew narrower and more cramped, the ceilings lower and lower. Sakrattars produced his own magical light but, rather than feeling warm and bright, it cast eerie shadows on the cluttered, claustrophobic alleyways. Jo wanted to find what they came for and get out as soon as possible.

    Soon, they left the noise from Undertown far behind. They seemed to be walking through ancient aqueducts and cisterns, long since abandoned and filled with dark seawater. There was a subtle flow, indicating it was fed by a passage to the ocean somewhere in the twisting, subterranean labyrinth of tunnels. The water surged slightly, a swarm of blue lights flashing just beneath the surface, as hundreds of bioluminescent creatures were agitated by something unseen. Leif leaned over, trying to see if he could spot any dark-dwelling ocean creatures. Amale, conspicuously, did not do the same and instead walked with a hand on the wall as far away from the lip of the cistern as possible, his ears pinned back the entire time.

    They stopped before a large, flat wall hewn directly from the limestone foundation of the island itself. Brackish water dripped from clusters of mussels anchored to the ceiling, suggesting that when the tide came in the chamber was almost fully-flooded.

    ¡°Barli said there¡¯s an entrance to the cache around here,¡± Kisha said, pulling a parchment from her pack and studying it.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see anything.¡± Leif rubbed the stone wall, giving it a few test knocks.

    Sakrattars pulled a handful of sand from a pouch in his inner robes and chanted a few words of magic. Holding it out on an open palm, he gently blew the sand onto the walls. Jo and Leif exchanged doubtful looks, but their skepticism melted away when a glowing outline appeared on the stone. Amale pushed and a cleverly concealed door creaked open, revealing a secret passage.

    No sooner than the door opened, the sound of rapid footsteps rang out on the other side. Amale jerked back as a man lunged from the darkness, thrusting forward with his short sword. Before anyone could draw their weapons, Kisha slid under the man¡¯s strike, diving between his legs. Shocked, the man couldn¡¯t react as she leapt up behind him and kicked with both feet. Striking him in the small of his back, she knocked him forward into the solid limestone wall. He crumpled to the ground. Amale blinked, his eyes wide, his ears standing at attention. ¡°Wow . . .¡± he marveled.

    ¡°You¡¯re not hurt, are you?¡± Kisha asked, dusting off her blue tunic.

    Amale shook his head. ¡°No. Thanks to you.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Kisha smiled. The tip of Amale¡¯s tail wagged in spite of himself. ¡°We¡¯ll need to . . . we¡¯ll need to be careful.¡± She looked at Leif, with his glowing axe Oxhiminn, clunky shield, and rattling chainmail shirt, then at Jo.

    ¡°I get it. We¡¯ll trail,¡± Jo said.

    Kisha nodded, gesturing to Amale and Sakrattars to follow her. Sakrattars went, a sour look on his face. He reached up and patted Bartholomew¡¯s cold head.

    ¡°Thank you, Sakrattars, for finding the hidden door,¡± he muttered to himself.

    It wasn¡¯t long before they came upon a sea cave, carved by wave action over thousands of years. The soft lapping of a saltwater river punctuated the silence. Judging by the echoes, the cave was open to the surface somewhere. Crates, tied together with ropes and piled high, filled the room, some covered in burlap. Staying low to the ground, Kisha pried up one of the lids and revealed rows and rows of bottles nestled in cotton fiber. It was the evidence she had been searching for.

    ¡°I knew it,¡± she whispered excitedly. She eagerly pulled out a set of tools and got to work collecting samples by Sakrattars¡¯ light. Amale stood at attention, trying to keep a sharp eye on the surroundings without revealing their hiding place. He didn¡¯t like how they hadn¡¯t faced any resistance besides the one man guarding the entrance. When the savannah was quiet, it usually meant that a large predator was on the prowl.

    As if on cue, his sharp ears picked up muffled voices. He gestured for Leif, Jo, and Kaja to stay hidden out in the hallway. Sakrattars¡¯ light quickly blinked out, plunging him and Kisha into darkness just as three figures stepped into view.

    One was a man with messy, brown hair and thick stubble. He was holding a torch and speaking to his two companions: both ratfolk, one with light gray fur and the other hooded and cloaked.

    ¡°¡ªdon¡¯t have time to search the whole city,¡± the man was saying. ¡°I¡¯ve already been here for two days now and found no sign of her.¡±

    ¡°Give me one more day,¡± the gray ratfolk replied, wringing her paws. ¡°I intended her to be a gift. A gesture of goodwill between the Nightrunners and the Irkallu.¡±

    The man scoffed. ¡°Normally people have a gift in their possession before offering it, Shorga.¡±

    ¡°Mr Aster¡ª¡±

    ¡°Jax.¡±

    ¡°Jax,¡± Shorga corrected, ¡°you will have her. Trust me.¡±

    ¡°And why should I?¡± Jax snapped. ¡°Your informant was ¡®mysteriously killed¡¯ before he could even give you a description of the elf she was with. He took all of that knowledge we could have used to his grave. And as if that wasn¡¯t bad enough, now the authorities will be looking for a murder victim. Thus far, you and your Nightshade friends have only been a damned liability.¡±

    Shorga opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again when Jax continued his rant.

    ¡°Our informant at the Academia Arcana accessed the records, and the only anomaly was one ¡®Sakrattars Mistwood¡¯. It says he was there to copy a scroll but the University of Barsicum, where he was allegedly from, has no record of his attendance this past year. He could have stolen that name from an old enrollment list for all we know,¡± Jax huffed. ¡°There are thousands of elves in Aurea, we can¡¯t investigate them all.¡± Sakrattars¡¯ cheeks flushed and every muscle in his body tensed. ¡°I¡¯m going back to be with my wife,¡± Jax finished. ¡°I¡¯m not wasting any more time here.¡±

    ¡°Shh.¡± The cloaked ratfolk said. Her voice was ragged, almost sickly, yet even that single sound was laced with a forceful malevolence. She raised a paw, the fur on her forearm an unsettling gray-green color. ¡°We¡¯re not alone.¡±

    Everyone went rigid. Kisha, slowly and quietly, slipped her dagger from its sheath.

    The cloaked ratfolk narrowed her eyes. ¡°Shorga.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Madame Jezzail,¡± Shorga said, understanding immediately. She drew her knives and tiptoed around the crates, peering down each aisle. Amale¡¯s paw went to his kukri but Kisha shook her head. Shorga was almost upon her and Sakrattars. Sakrattars could hear the gentle footfalls of Shorga¡¯s paws on the stone, the soft rustle of her fur against her clothes. He held his breath, the words to a spell playing on his lips. So focused were they on Shorga that they didn¡¯t notice that Jezzail had made her move.

    ¡°Watch out!¡± Amale barked.

    Kisha, Sakrattars, and Shorga looked up to a clay bomb hurtling through the air. It shattered at their feet and a green cloud exploded forth, engulfing them in its poisonous fumes. Jezzail watched with clinical curiosity and satisfaction as her handiwork took effect. Shorga and Kisha collapsed, coughing and sputtering. Covering his face with a sleeve, Sakrattars tried to drag Kisha with one arm but he, too, quickly succumbed and fell to his knees. Panic set in as it got harder and harder to breathe. Every movement felt like flames erupting under his skin. His vision swam and, as his senses were altered by the toxins, he started to hear hundreds of voices speaking from all around him¡ªvoices that were at once barely whispers and almost deafening.

    Then a gust of freezing wind blew the toxic cloud away and Jo burst forward, her arm drawn back. She crashed down, her fist breaking through a crate as if it were made of wet paper, sending a puff of poisonous mist flowing down to the floor like a green waterfall. Jezzail narrowly dodged the unexpected attack but Jo shifted her weight and swung her arm back around, connecting with Jezzail¡¯s gut and sending her flying. Stunned, with the wind knocked out of her, Jezzail grabbed a vial from her belt and bit the cork off the top. Jo charged, uttering a roaring cry as she lifted her fist for a finishing strike. Quick as lightning, Jezzail splashed the concoction into Jo¡¯s face. Jo cried out, recoiling as it burned her eyes. Acrid, yellow smoke flowed down her face as the alchemical mixture reacted with her skin.

    Jax grabbed Jezzail and helped her limp to the boat docked on the edge of the river. He tossed her among the cargo and pushed the boat into the water.

    ¡°Ca . . . ca . . .¡± Kisha wheezed, ¡°stop them!¡±

    Leif and Kaja moved to intercept but it was too late: Jax and Jezzail were already paddling down the river and into a dark tunnel. Kaja skidded to a stop at the water¡¯s edge and tossed her hand out, several icicles shooting through the air like daggers. They narrowly missed Jax, embedding instead deep into his oar. He looked at them, then at Kaja, whose white hair was now flowing out from beneath her hood. His eyes widened in recognition.

    Jezzail immediately guessed what Jax was thinking. ¡°Keep going!¡± she croaked, clutching her stomach. She pulled another clay bomb from her belt and handed it to him. He didn¡¯t need to be told what it was or what to do. Standing up on the wobbling boat, he threw the bomb as far as he could. It shattered against one of the weapons crates on shore, spewing a fountain of molten hot embers into the air. Kaja screamed as alchemical fires in a rainbow of unnatural colors roared to life around her.

    ¡°No!¡± Kisha cried, reaching out helplessly as all of her evidence went up in flames. ¡°No no no no no!¡± Amale gritted his teeth and scooped her up even as she struggled.

    Leif picked up Sakrattars, shifting the lanky elf¡¯s weight in his arms. ¡°Jo! Get the other one!¡±

    Jo wiped her eyes one more time, blinking. She could barely see through the haze of tears but she managed to grab an unconscious Shorga and follow everyone else out of the smoke-filled chamber. Behind them, a series of sharp reports echoed off the stone walls as bottles burst from the heat. Each explosion spilled more unstable, noxious chemicals into the raging inferno. Kisha stole one last look at the burning weapons cache¡ªthe one thing she could have used to make her appeal to the senate to send the aid Undertown so desperately needed¡ªthen closed her eyes and let the darkness take her.

    *

    *

    Kisha hunched over a roll of parchment, chewing on the end of her quill. She took it out of her mouth now and then, writing equations until she either ran out of ink or ideas, then chewed on it again.

    It had been several days since the raid and the effects of the toxin had run its course so, naturally, she was back to work. Luckily, the few samples she had managed to gather were proving invaluable, both as evidence and in the synthesization of an effective treatment. Shorga¡¯s capture was another major blow to the Nightrunners, though she was either unwilling to speak or unable to due to the heavy dose of toxins she had inhaled. Jax and Jezzail still remained at large, but Kisha was prepared to call it a victory all the same.

    Then there came a knock at the door. Kisha looked up, blinking with surprise. It was just after dark and no one called on her that late unless it was an emergency. She slipped some clothes over her silken undergarments, and padded to the door in bare paws. Opening it a crack, she immediately recognized her visitor. ¡°Amale!¡± she said with a smile, opening the door the rest of the way. Amale had come to see her every day she was being treated in the convent, but he hadn¡¯t come to see her since she returned to the barracks. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± she asked.

    Amale¡¯s ear twitched. ¡°It¡¯s a nice night. Care for a walk?¡±

    Kisha smiled, her brown eyes twinkling. ¡°That¡¯s s . . . nice of you to ask,¡± she said, her tail swishing nervously. She looked back to her desk, at the reams of parchment spread across it. ¡°But I have a lot of work to do,¡± she said sadly.

    Amale¡¯s ears lowered and he nodded. ¡°Okay, goodnight,¡± he said softly, turning to leave. He had made it a few steps when he heard Kisha¡¯s door close. He looked back and saw her standing outside. His ears perked up.

    ¡°Though, I suppose I could use a break,¡± she said with a little smile.

    The pair made their way through the darkened streets of Aurea, wandering into the gardens outside of the Daughters of Aia convent. It was quiet this time of night with only the sounds of trickling water and the occasional night bird¡¯s dull cooing. The sounds of the market, still bustling as the outdoor taverns opened for the night, seemed far away and detached among the trees and manicured paths of the garden.

    They approached a small, decorative bridge over a little pond. Pausing in the middle, Kisha sat down, dangling her legs off the edge and into the pool below. She kicked her toes gently against the surface. Amale stood next to her, leaning over the railing, eyes on the moonlit gardens.

    ¡°So you haven¡¯t been back home in five years?¡± she asked. Amale nodded. ¡°Wow,¡± Kisha said, looking back at her reflection in the water. Soon, that reflection was joined by another as Amale sat beside her.

    ¡°You¡¯re from Aurea?¡± he asked, changing the subject.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Kisha said. ¡°My parents live in Undertown along with all my brothers and sisters¡ªall seventeen of them.¡±

    Amale chuckled, a quiet, subtle sound, and Kisha grinned.

    ¡°Do you have siblings?¡±

    Amale nodded. ¡°Younger brother. Older sister.¡±

    Kisha¡¯s ears lowered. ¡°And you haven¡¯t seen them since you left?¡±

    Amale¡¯s ears lowered too as he looked down at the rippling water.

    ¡°That sounds lonely.¡±

    Amale turned to her. For the first time since she had met him, Kisha saw a small grin cross his stoic face. ¡°Only sometimes,¡± he said, making her smile too.

    For a long time, they were quiet. Then Kisha leaned over, resting her head on Amale¡¯s shoulder. His ear flicked at the unexpected contact¡ªunexpected, but very welcome. He rested his cheek on the top of her head between her ears. Gently, he took her paw in his. She gave it a little squeeze, letting out a happy trill as she leaned against him. He closed his eyes and took a deep, relaxed breath.

    They sat there in silence for a long while, Kisha kicking lightly at the surface of the water, Amale by her side with his hind paws submerged in the pond. Small fish, scales reflecting the moonlight, swam languidly between their feet. Amale was so at peace, he wasn¡¯t sure if he had dozed off or not, but at some point Kisha reluctantly broke their embrace. ¡°Well, it¡¯s getting late, I should get back to work.¡± She moved away slowly, lifting herself to her feet. He stood as well, facing her, still holding her paw in his own.

    They walked back toward the Ordo barracks under the flickering lanterns hanging over the cobblestone streets. There was activity everywhere: street performers doing juggling acts or theater in the round, outdoor grills blazing with light and exuding delicious smells, horses and carts rattling along the center of the street and pausing now and then to let pedestrians cross. Amale noticed that he was being led on a somewhat circuitous path but said nothing.

    Yet despite Kisha¡¯s attempts to make their evening last, it still seemed like no time at all before they found themselves once more outside her door. Kisha partially opened it, before turning back.

    ¡°Thank you, Amale. I needed this more than I realized.¡±

    ¡°So did I,¡± he said quietly. He paused to gather his courage. ¡°May I see you again?¡±

    Kisha smiled. ¡°I¡¯d really like that,¡± she said, ¡°but I don¡¯t know if I . . . if I can.¡± Her smile faded away and she took both of Amale¡¯s paws in hers, looking down at them. ¡°Things are happening quickly now. The Irkallu are on the move and the Ordo is overwhelmed. You and I have jobs to do. People to defend. People to help.¡±

    Amale thought about that for a long time. As her words began to make sense, his ears drooped and his shoulders slumped.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Kisha said.

    Amale shook his head. ¡°You¡¯ve nothing to be sorry for. Tonight was all I needed.¡±

    Kisha gave both of his paws a squeeze, before parting from him. She was halfway through her door when she turned around again. ¡°Promise me something though?¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    ¡°When things have calmed down a little . . . ask me again?¡±

    The tip of Amale¡¯s tail quivered and his heart beat faster. ¡°I promise.¡±

    *

    *

    Late that night, Linnea also received a knock at her door. ¡°Come in,¡± she called, looking up from a worn map of Aurelia.

    An agent entered and stood straight in salute. ¡°Ma¡¯am.¡± Somehow, Linnea knew exactly what his next words would be.

    ¡°We¡¯ve found Lucretia.¡±

 Session 7 - The Ones Who Couldnt Be Saved

    It was late when Linnea showed up at the safe house, asking the companions to attend a private meeting. The sudden and clandestine nature of the request was strange but, truth be told, both Jo and Leif were relieved to have a break from Sakrattars¡¯ complaining.

    Kisha and Shorga had fully recovered from the effects of the poison gas and yet, days later, Sakrattars still groused about his health and made a proper show of it. He spent hours alternately resting and reading in bed, with Kaja acting as his personal servant. He would send her for water or to feed Bartholomew or to tell the others to ¡°quiet down¡± when he wanted to sleep. After one such event, Leif grumbled sourly that he should have just left Sakrattars down there¡ªa message that Kaja blithely delivered back. When Sakrattars became quiet and sulky, Kaja figured he was feeling particularly ill again and decided to help by extinguishing his lamp, blissfully ignorant of the fact that he was still using it to read by.

    So it came to no one¡¯s surprise that Sakrattars argued that he was too ill to attend. But when Linnea let slip that she had new information regarding Lucretia, his ears perked and he shooed Kaja away from his bedside. ¡°I can¡¯t very well miss such an important meeting,¡± he declared as he donned his robes and fixed his hair, his feebleness conveniently abandoned in light of his passion for research.

    The companions filed into the Ordo Draconis audience chamber, following Linnea behind the banner where she and the Grandmistress had gone during the council session. It led to a hidden hallway that opened into an unexpectedly large room with high, arched ceilings supported by a criss-cross of buttresses. The room was dark and unusually devoid of furnishings, save for an arrangement of chairs by a fireplace. It was there that Grandmistress Anya was waiting for them.

    ¡°Grandmistress,¡± Sakrattars said, bowing his head deep in respect.

    She nodded to him in recognition. ¡°Thank you all for meeting me here.¡± She gestured for them to take a seat. After some short pleasantries, she got straight to the point. ¡°I know that you are not Ordo agents but I have something I must ask of you all the same,¡± she said. ¡°Lucretia¡¯s being held in the old Castrum Ustarius, which has become a fortified den for the Irkallu. And, as you know, we have not agents enough to cover all our ground.¡±

    ¡°You want us to go instead,¡± Jo said, guessing her intentions.

    ¡°You¡¯ve proven yourselves many times over by helping Agent Flickwhisker and Agent Moonwing. And you already have an understanding of Lucretia¡¯s . . . condition,¡± the Grandmistress paused. ¡°Agent Moonwing informed me about your meeting. Few have encountered Fallen and lived to tell the tale.¡±

    ¡°So we¡¯ll be accompanying Linnea on a rescue mission?¡± Leif asked.

    The Grandmistress shook her head. ¡°No, Agent Moonwing is needed elsewhere.¡± She locked eyes with Linnea, who stood unmoved, then turned her attention back to the companions. ¡°I¡¯m asking you to go alone.¡±

    Sakrattars bit his lip and clocked the visible concern from both Amale and Leif as well. Rooting out a weapon cache in Aurea was one thing, but infiltrating an Irkallu stronghold in the countryside was another thing entirely. It was an absurd task for the Grandmistress to ask of mere civilians, even of ones who were already involved. The Ordo had to be truly desperate.

    ¡°If we go, you must promise to look after Kaja and keep her safe,¡± Jo said. Kaja looked up, her eyes wide, her mouth opening in protest.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I cannot,¡± the Grandmistress replied. ¡°The Irkallu know that Kaja is in Aurea now. They will be searching for her and I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t spare the agents,¡± Jo finished irritably. ¡°But we can¡¯t take her with us. We might as well deliver her into their hands.¡±

    ¡°Even still, she remains safest with you.¡±

    Jo and Leif exchanged skeptical looks. Sakrattars pursed his lips but he couldn¡¯t refute the logic. Kaja was in danger no matter where she was. They couldn¡¯t leave her alone and there was no one they could trust implicitly to look after her. The eyes and ears of the Irkallu could be anywhere at any time.

    ¡°I want to go,¡± Kaja pleaded. ¡°I can help.¡±

    After a searching glance at the others, Jo heaved a great sigh. She forced a smile and placed a hand on Kaja¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Well you are getting pretty good at magic,¡± she said. Though she wasn¡¯t happy with the situation, her praise was genuine. Kaja¡¯s cheeks turned a rosy pink and the corner of her lip curled into a shy grin. ¡°Alright.¡± Jo stood resolutely. ¡°Tell us where we can find this castrum.¡±

    *

    *

    The companions left Aurea the following morning and passed through the hamlet of Hale the day after that. Though the roads were somewhat busy with travelers, very few residents of Hale itself could be seen. The companions had to stand at a meal stall, calling for a clerk for several minutes, before one sleepily emerged to take their orders. The inconvenience was soon forgotten, though, as they lay in the cool grass under a grove of trees to wait out the midday heat while eating a lunch of freshly-grilled sausages, figs, and olives. Sakrattars read his spellbook and Kaja stretched out for a short nap. To the passerby they looked to be on a peaceful outing, but in reality each was beginning to feel the pressure. They needed a plan¡ªthey only had a few more sun movements until they reached Castrum Ustarius.

    By the time they reached the hills, the sun had vanished beneath the horizon and the shadows of the trees were closing in. Kaja trailed behind, a growing unease gnawing at her gut. A faint whisper wafted up from the locket around her neck. Slowly, urged on by something she couldn¡¯t comprehend, Kaja turned towards a distant cliff face. The shadow of a large hound stood at the precipice, burning red eyes boring through her. Kaja froze mid-step and gripped the locket, squeezing until the metal bit into her flesh. Then she blinked and the hound was gone. Did she just imagine it? Shaken, Kaja rushed to catch up, saying nothing of the strange sighting.

    They arrived at Castrum Ustarius after dusk. The looming ruins were dark and empty. If the Irkallu were occupying the fortress, they kept their presence well-hidden. Sakrattars, his heart thumping loudly against his chest, watched as Amale trailed ahead. He gave Bartholomew a few comfort-pats, more for his own benefit than for his familiar¡¯s, and occupied himself with thinking about what life was like for the soldiers who once defended the castrum.

    The fortress was built in the ancient style, not at all resembling the modern, open air encampments that one might see in Datharia. The eroded, crumbled remains of a great wall surrounded a massive, heavily-fortified castle. At its peak, over two thousand years ago, Castrum Ustarius would have had giant metal spikes over the ramparts, pointed skyward, as a deterrent against dragon-attack. All that metal had either been salvaged centuries ago by nearby townspeople to make horseshoes, farming implements, and the like, or rusted away and turned to dust.

    Amale waited, crouched in a grove, his bushy tail swishing in concentration. When nothing happened and all was still, he signaled to Leif by reflecting the full moon¡¯s light off of his kukri. The others were just arriving at his location when his ears perked¡ª

    Footsteps from within the castrum.

    Amale gestured for everyone to hide. They flattened themselves to the ground, rolling behind scraggly bushes just as they saw motion at the gates.

    The castle doors creaked open and several people emerged. There were eleven in all: six humans, two elves, two orcs, and one limping, gray-green ratfolk. Jezzail Toxinrot. She was still nursing the injuries Jo had inflicted during their last encounter. Sakrattars scanned the crowd and found Jax Aster as well, standing devotedly at the side of a severe-looking woman.

    ¡°Aroga will accompany you,¡± said a tall man wearing a bright chest plate and a hooded cloak. He gestured to one of the orcs. She was burly and intimidating in light, padded armor with weapons strapped to every limb. ¡°Try not to get arrested or killed in the process.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re asking us to search the entire city of Aurea, Lord Alistair,¡± the other man replied. ¡°Can¡¯t you give us more to work with?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve heard all of what Jax and Jezzail have to tell you,¡± Alistair said. ¡°It¡¯s your job to find them. See that our investment isn¡¯t wasted.¡±

    ¡°My sister is an excellent tracker,¡± said the other orc who, in sharp contrast to her sister, Aroga, wore an ornate robe. ¡°She will ensure your success.¡± Aroga, oddly, responded to this compliment with a rueful glare.

    The man grumbled. ¡°Right, right. What do you want with the girl anyway?¡±

    ¡°Bring her to me. Alive. That¡¯s all you need to know, Benjamin Saana.¡±

    The man frowned. The use of his full name was clearly a threat. For the Irkallu, information was as potent a weapon as Jezzail¡¯s toxins. Wisely determining that the conversation was over, Benjamin gestured to his team to move out. The two elves, one of the humans, and Aroga followed him. The companions crouched deeper into the bushes as the mercenaries passed uncomfortably close.

    Alistair turned to the remaining agents. ¡°None of us leave tonight, is that understood? Bhorovane is coming to deal with Lucretia and I need all of you ready to receive him.¡± His eyes rested on a tall, thin woman with pallid skin, wrapped in red and black robes. ¡°Especially you, Hester.¡± The woman did not move nor speak. Sakrattars swallowed but his mouth was dry. He sensed a powerful, malevolent magic about her, one that filled him with fear.

    ¡°Why must he come here?¡± Jezzail rasped, a concerning touch of nerves in her voice.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like it either,¡± Alistair admitted, ¡°but it has to be done. So look sharp, we can¡¯t afford to displease¡ª¡±

    A sudden clap of thunder cut short his words. Kaja jumped, holding back a startled yelp as the clouds tore open and unleashed a volley of hailstones. Jo dove to shelter Leif so that the hail wouldn¡¯t sound against the buckler strapped to his back and give away their position. The precaution may have been unnecessary, however, because the Irkallu agents were wholly focused on the startling deterioration in weather.

    ¡°Damn that Lucretia!¡± Alistair swore over the torrential winds, his cloak whipping about his body. ¡°Everyone inside!¡± A few minutes after the doors closed behind them, the weather cleared and the companions released the breaths they had been holding.

    ¡°It sounds like they¡¯re going to do something to Lucretia tonight,¡± Leif murmured, ¡°or at least this ¡®Bhorovane¡¯ person is.¡±

    Sakrattars crossed his arms. ¡°The Fallen we encountered on the road to Barsicum also mentioned a Bhorovane,¡± he said, ¡°and so did the kobolds who stole Dominus Praetia¡¯s gold seal.¡±

    ¡°How do you even remember that?¡± Leif asked, incredulous.

    ¡°I have a good memory, always have.¡±

    ¡°But who is Bhorovane?¡± Jo cut in. ¡°That¡¯s what I want to know.¡±

    Leif rubbed his neck uneasily. ¡°I¡¯m not so certain I agree. I think we should plan to be in and out before he arrives.¡±

    Amale nodded once in agreement, lifting his nose to the wind. ¡°Wait,¡± he said. He moved cautiously forward, freezing in place whenever his sharp hearing picked up the smallest rustle, his ears turning every which way. He didn¡¯t meet with any resistance. The way was clear. ¡°It¡¯s narrow,¡± he reported when he returned. His dark eyes fell to Jo.

    ¡°I won¡¯t fit,¡± she guessed.

    Amale shook his head.

    ¡°This castrum was built to be a fortress in the Age of Blades,¡± Sakrattars said. ¡°A major design feature of the era is the claustrophobic corridors. Makes it easier to defend and harder to storm.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the history lesson.¡± Leif rolled his eyes. Sakrattars opened his mouth to retort but Jo spoke first.

    ¡°There is another way,¡± she said quietly, ¡°but you must swear yourselves to secrecy.¡±

    ¡°Secrecy?¡± Leif lifted an eyebrow, a joking smile playing across his lips. But upon seeing Jo¡¯s uncharacteristically grave expression, his smile vanished. Sakrattars bit his lip. He knew what Jo¡¯s idea was.

    After a brief check to make sure they were alone, Jo stepped back. Her form shifted, her clothes snapping away at special breakpoints, her skirt and cuirass falling to the ground. Leif and Amale watched in wonder, at a loss for words, when Jo stepped forward as a sabercat. Golden hoop earrings dangled from round, black ears and gold bracelets were lost in a sea of orange fur.

    ¡°Just when I thought I couldn¡¯t possibly like you any more,¡± Leif quipped once he recovered his ability to speak. ¡°Can all natiuhans do that?¡±

    Jo huffed. ¡°Yes,¡± Sakrattars said, waving it off like it was common knowledge. ¡°And if we tell anyone then we¡¯ll all die.¡±

    ¡°Like a curse?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Sakrattars snapped reflexively. But then he paused. Jo never explicitly told him why they¡¯d die. ¡°No, that¡¯s just silly.¡±

    ¡°You sounded less confident there,¡± Leif said, pointing an accusing finger. ¡°Jo, is the fancy elf right?¡±

    Jo huffed again, her ears flattening. Leif had been friends with Amale long enough to know what that meant. Curse or no, the conversation was over. He shouldered Jo¡¯s pack and they made their way into the castrum.

    Once inside, they were plunged into the pitch blackness of a windowless foyer. Amale, Kaja, and Sakrattars felt their way along the wall, heading towards the only light they could see. Jo followed and then lastly came Leif. Leif faced backwards toward the entrance. Though he paid little attention to his military training, he remembered enough to know that an eye should always be kept on the rear.

    The light on the other side of the room turned out to be a flickering torch ensconced at the top of a spiral staircase. Sakrattars swallowed, his eyes following the outline of the stairs as it plunged into the shadows below. In ancient castrums, most of the complex was underground. It was also where the dungeons would be¡ªwhere Linnea¡¯s informant had reported that Lucretia was being held.

    Upon descending the staircase, the party was fed into a maze of tunnels. The subterranean level was properly lit but, rather than relieve the tension, the easier visibility only enhanced it. The companions could see but it cut both ways: the enemies could now see them as well. The slightest misstep or the smallest sound could be fatal mistakes. They waited with bated breath to see if anyone would step into the muted, yellow glow of the candlelight.

    Just when they thought it was safe, Amale¡¯s paw shot out, blocking Sakrattars from going forward. The echo of boots on stone reverberated through the narrow passage as two people passed into view, talking in hushed tones. Amale waited until he could no longer hear their footfalls before he gave the signal to move on.

    It wasn¡¯t long until the companions came across a door along the wall of a T-intersection. The door had been recently installed, its sturdy hardwood composition a notable contrast to the worm-eaten splinters of the originals. Stacks of boxes lay on either side, containing supplies that were anything but ancient. The companions exchanged looks, all thinking the same thing: if the room beyond had a new door protecting it, it must contain something important.

    But something was wrong. The corridor was barely wide enough for three men to walk abreast, with no place to hide. It seemed too easy, and the hall was too exposed. Something tickled Kaja¡¯s awareness. It was a sensation she had become all too familiar with¡ªthere were enemies nearby.

    Amale¡¯s ears twitched, then Jo heard it too. Footsteps. Though the guards wrapped their shoes in cloth to make them all but silent to human ears, to Amale and Jo the muffled rasping of their footfalls echoed off the walls like distant shorebreak. The guards were coming in their direction, but their gait was slow and measured. The party had not yet been seen.

    Kaja tugged on Sakrattars¡¯ sleeve. ¡°Be ready,¡± she whispered.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°What¡ª¡± But the question died on his lips as Kaja signed an arcane symbol.

    ¡°Men!¡± Alistair¡¯s voice commanded from down the hall. ¡°To me!¡± Sakrattars understood what was happening immediately, and hastily stopped his companions from defensively drawing their weapons.

    ¡°Lord Alistair?¡± called one of the guards, confused. They had stopped in front of the door and had almost turned into the hall where the party lay in wait, but the spell-conjured sound had lured their gaze down the other way.

    ¡°To me, now!¡±

    There was a brief exchange of looks, as the guards debated whether it was safer to leave their post, or disobey Alistair directly. The debate didn¡¯t take long. ¡°Yes, sir!¡± One shouted as they took off in the direction of the voice.

    The companions waited until the guards¡¯ hurried footsteps vanished deep into the labyrinth before they slipped through the door. They entered into what appeared to be a records room, lined with shelves stacked high with scrolls and bindings. Wisely, Amale closed the door behind them so that passersby would not notice anything amiss. Instantly, he was hit by the silence rushing into his ears. The room had been soundproofed¡ªyet more evidence that secrets lay within. Sakrattars riffled through the parchments on the table.

    ¡°Anything useful?¡± Leif asked quietly.

    Sakrattars bumped something with his finger and shuffled the papers to uncover a memory crystal. He gasped when he saw the document underneath it.

    ¡°This is about Lucretia,¡± he said, skimming the text.

    ¡°What does it say?¡± Kaja asked.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we just take it and read it later?¡± Leif cracked the door and peered outside, looking both ways down the hall. It was clear, but unlikely to stay that way for long. He shut the door again, taking extra care so that it didn¡¯t knock against the frame.

    ¡°Seems Lucretia was a bit of an experiment,¡± Sakrattars continued. ¡°It says here that they were testing whether these so-called ¡®outsiders¡¯ could be better controlled through objects rather than allowing them directly into the body. Apparently, she was a disappointment.¡± He paused, looking at the large block letters at the bottom that read: FAILED.

    ¡°Does it say where they¡¯re keeping her?¡±

    ¡°No, but this might help.¡± Sakrattars held out the crystal. ¡°Kaja, if you please.¡± Kaja took it and, reacting to her magic, it immediately hummed and flickered to life, casting a rainbow of colors across the room. Slowly, the colors darkened, turning gray, black, and blue. The image of a dismal prison cell coalesced out of the swirling miasma . . .

    *

    *

    Lucretia, gaunt and pale, was kneeling on the cold floor of the dungeon, chained to a wall by shackles on her left wrist and neck. Her right arm, the sword arm, was wrapped in chains and bound to a dozen different anchors, her atrophied fingers still clenching the hilt of the demonic weapon with an immovable grip.

    Jezzail came into view. She grasped Lucretia¡¯s chin with clawed fingers wrapped in rotting cloth and squeezed Lucretia¡¯s cheeks, tipping her head back and dribbling liquid into her mouth. Lucretia coughed and sputtered, but Jezzail held firm until she stopped resisting.

    ¡°There. You¡¯ll find her more pliable now, Lord Alistair.¡± Jezzail stepped back, joining the other members of the team¡ªJax Aster, the severe woman, the orc priestess, and Hester¡ªin the shadows to watch.

    ¡°Are you enjoying Jezzail¡¯s formula?¡± Alistair asked impassively. Lucretia wheezed, saliva dripping from her slackened jaw. Her eyes dilated and she began trembling as the vile concoction started to affect her nervous system. ¡°Oh, Lucretia.¡± Alistair shook his head. ¡°Your task was so simple, so easy¡ªbut you let someone live, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    Lucretia sobbed quietly. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Someone else was at the estate.¡±

    ¡°No. There was . . . no one else.¡±

    Suddenly, Lucretia¡¯s head jerked back and her voice split into two: her own, and one deep and malevolent. ¡°She lies. She let the child live! She is a coward and a failure like you¡ª¡±

    Alistair cuffed her across the face, splattering the stone floor with polluted blood. ¡°You still can¡¯t control it,¡± he said disdainfully. ¡°But does it speak the truth? Did you let the child live?¡±

    Lucretia hung her head, choking back tears.

    ¡°Why are you protecting her?¡± Alistair grabbed a handful of her hair. ¡°You couldn¡¯t protect Feriel and Bandrigan and you couldn¡¯t protect Astinos.¡±

    Lucretia inhaled sharply. ¡°Don¡¯t you ever speak their names,¡± she snarled. As her anger and grief flared, her body convulsed. The otherworldly presence within her quivered with gluttonous delight.

    Alistair¡¯s mouth parted in a cruel smile. He released her hair, shoving her head back down. ¡°Always trying and failing to save them. You told Astinos you hated him, that you couldn¡¯t bear to look at him anymore.¡± Alistair paced slowly before her, a mockery of her imprisonment. ¡°Such a noble sacrifice¡ªlying to him just to keep him away. How did it feel when you realized it was all for nothing? We still found him.¡±

    She shivered as the malevolence within her fed on her torment. ¡°Stop . . .¡±

    ¡°Feriel and Bandrigan wanted to help you. You tried to burn their letter but the demon saw it first, didn¡¯t it? You can¡¯t save their child any more than you could save them. The sword is wasted on you.¡±

    This made Lucretia¡¯s eyes flash with anger. ¡°This was never about me being worthy,¡± she hissed. ¡°You just wanted a pawn, someone who you could use to hunt down the Ordo Draconis. And when I think of how you manipulated me, tricked me, used me¡±¡ªher sword hand strained against the chains¡ª¡°the rage helps me stay in control. I fantasize about the day that I drive this cursed blade through your gut and watch you die on it.¡± She spat at his feet.

    Alistair maintained eye contact for a few moments longer, noting how Lucretia¡¯s fingers had slowed to a twitch. He turned back to the others. ¡°It¡¯s not working,¡± he said quietly. ¡°She¡¯s still fighting against the sword.¡±

    Jezzail shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. The potion should have broken her will and let the entity take control.¡±

    Alistair glanced at Lucretia. She stared back at him, her expression hardened in determination. He sighed. ¡°Accept it. We¡¯ve failed. We can¡¯t force possession this way. So long as she fights it, the entity can¡¯t maintain consistent control. It¡¯s over.¡± Saying nothing, Hester made a note on a piece of parchment¡ªthe same piece that Sakrattars now held.

    Alistair turned back to Lucretia, his voice cold. ¡°Bhorovane will be here to deal with you soon.¡±

    Lucretia, blood running down her face, smiled defiantly. ¡°I welcome it.¡±

    *

    *

    ¡°She¡¯s a victim,¡± Leif said helplessly after the vision faded. ¡°We need to find her.¡±

    ¡°It only showed us the inside of the dungeon, not where it is,¡± Sakrattars said, rolling up the parchment and stuffing it into his scroll case. He tried to ignore the tremble in his hands. What he saw had further unnerved him. If the Irkallu had been successful in forcing possession through an object, how many Imperial senators, commanders, even leaders might be given a pretty bauble only to become puppets for the Irkallu? It was a subtle, ingenious plan and, though he was relieved it failed, he was beginning to wonder whether they¡¯d be getting out of Castrum Ustarius alive. ¡°We¡¯ll need to keep searching.¡±

    While Leif and Sakrattars were discussing their next move, Kaja felt a cool breeze brush her cheek. She waved it away absently, as if it were an unseen cobweb, but then a quiet cacophony of unintelligible whispers beckoned her forward.

    ¡°What do you want?¡± Kaja murmured. ¡°Do you want me to follow?¡±

    ¡°Kaja? Who are you talking to?¡± Sakrattars asked.

    She looked conflicted. Then the whispers started again, more urgent than before. ¡°They can take us there,¡± she said.

    ¡°¡®They¡¯?¡±

    Jo nudged Sakrattars¡¯ back with her forehead. Her eyes conveyed the message loud and clear.

    ¡°We follow,¡± Amale confirmed.

    Kaja took the lead. She didn¡¯t know how but she felt like she could understand the whispers, despite the lack of words. Sakrattars looked at her with a mixture of concern and confusion. She knew he was trying to parse out what she meant but she wasn¡¯t sure she could even explain it. It would be like trying to explain how she used magic¡ªit was something that felt as natural as breathing.

    Before long, they came across a stairwell. Kaja gasped. A suffocating evil emanated from the stairs, one so thick and viscous that she found it difficult to concentrate on anything else. Yet, her companions didn¡¯t appear affected at all¡ªthey were entirely focused on the path ahead.

    It was then, in the moment all of the companions were facing forward, when the agent struck. An Irkallu fighter had been hidden in the shadows of an alcove, guarding the stairwell while remaining out of sight. In a flash, a gloved hand clapped over Leif¡¯s mouth, that same arm sliding under his to prevent him from drawing Oxihiminn. Leif grunted in pain, feeling a sharp impact against his side as a dagger pounded impotently against his chainmail. Frustrated, the agent switched tactics and dragged Leif backwards to stab at the seam where the collar of the chainmail ended. Unable to cry out, Leif used his free arm to shove the agent¡¯s wrist at the last moment. Metal impacted rock with a sharp scrape and a small spark.

    Drawn by the noise and flash of light in the near-darkness, the party turned. Before anyone else had a chance to react, Jo leapt around her shocked companions, rebounding off the wall with all four paws. Knocking both Leif and his assailant to the ground, she ended the attack instantly. Any cry of terror or surprise died before it emerged as Jo¡¯s teeth gnashed together in the agent¡¯s throat.

    Dragging the dead agent by the neck, she walked backwards, pulling his body back into the alcove where he had been hiding. While everyone else was still recovering from shock, Kaja crouched and breathed a stream of icy air on a pool of the guard¡¯s blood just as Jo¡¯s paw stepped in it¡ªshe wouldn¡¯t be leaving any red prints that could betray their location.

    ¡°Clever,¡± Sakrattars said, his voice still thin as he struggled to process what had just happened.

    Kaja¡¯s cheeks turned pink at the compliment. ¡°We did that while hunting to keep the wolves from following us home,¡± she said, turning away to lead Amale and Leif down the stairs. Sakrattars didn¡¯t know whether to be more disturbed by the story or by the nonchalant tone in which Kaja told it.

    Jo sidled up next to Sakrattars, peering at him with her yellow eyes. ¡°Uh. . .¡± He shifted, unsure of what she wanted. ¡°Good kitty?¡± he tried. She growled menacingly, shoved past him, and disappeared into the stairwell.

    At the bottom lay a dungeon, one that the party found to be quite familiar. The room opened up from the claustrophobic passageways so Jo assumed her natiuhan form and dressed before they ventured further.

    Upon rounding a corner, the companions finally lay eyes on the one they had been searching for ever since they had left Orium¡ªsomeone they had never met but felt like they already knew.

    Lucretia, strung up in chains the way they had seen her in the memory crystal¡¯s vision, was the only prisoner. Kaja recoiled and instinctively covered her nose and mouth with her cloak. Could no one else see it? Lucretia was the center, the source, of all the malignance hanging in the air. It surrounded her like a poisonous smog.

    Kaja glanced at her companions, her panicked breathing getting heavier. All she saw was a collage of relief, pity, and concern on their faces. Even Sakrattars, so sensitive to the energy at Saara¡¯s mansion, remained neutral. As Jo approached Lucretia, Kaja felt the urge to cry out, to stop her, but Jo cut effortlessly through the poison like it wasn¡¯t even there.

    Lucretia stirred when she saw Jo, at first frightened, then confused. ¡°Who¡ª¡±

    ¡°Grandmistress Anya sent us,¡± Jo said quickly. ¡°Do you know where they keep the keys?¡±

    Lucretia sobbed. ¡°Grandmistress . . .¡±

    ¡°The keys, Lucretia, we must hurry!¡± Leif urged.

    ¡°I can¡¯t . . . go back with you . . .¡±

    ¡°What are you saying? That¡¯s why we¡¯re here. To save you.¡±

    ¡°There is no saving me,¡± Lucretia said. ¡°Every day that passes, I¡¯m less myself and more the demon.¡± She thrashed, her chains rattling. ¡°Only death,¡± she rasped through clenched teeth.

    Leif shook his head. ¡°No, that¡¯s not an option. We¡¯ll find a way, we¡¯ll¡ª¡± his voice trailed off as the truth of her words penetrated his heart. Now that they could see her up close, it was evident that Lucretia¡¯s body and soul were broken beyond repair. The cursed sword, torturous as it was for her, might have been the only reason she was still alive in her starved, desiccated state.

    ¡°Please,¡± Lucretia gasped, ¡°please . . . while I¡¯m still me . . .¡±

    Jo set her jaw, accepting Sakrattars¡¯ knife. ¡°Saara¡¯s safe now. You don¡¯t need to worry any longer.¡±

    Lucretia¡¯s eyes closed and a bittersweet smile parted her bloodied lips. ¡°Oh, praise Aegis.¡±

    Jo¡¯s hand tightened around the handle of the dagger. ¡°Sakrattars, see to Kaja.¡±

    Kaja swallowed, pushing Sakrattars¡¯ helping hand away. She stepped forward, braving the malignant haze until she was in front of Lucretia. The sword trembled, straining violently against the chains at Kaja¡¯s presence. Lucretia winced and cried out, hanging her head in torment. Kaja knelt down gently and pressed Astinos¡¯ ring into Lucretia¡¯s good hand. ¡°Astinos said that he understood. And that he¡¯s sorry,¡± Kaja said quietly, retreating to Sakrattars¡¯ side.

    Feeling the cool metal in her palm, a sudden relief washed over Lucretia. For the first time in months, she couldn¡¯t feel the demon¡¯s touch. The constant agony of what it made her do to the only people in the world she had loved seemed like nothing more than a bad dream. Instead, her mind was filled with beauty and warmth: Feriel pulling her off the streets of Orium when she was a child, Bandrigan teaching her how to read ancient Arvisian script, Astinos holding her tenderly in his arms and giving her a ring and promise. She knew that she would never see them in the next life, she was too far gone for that, but it didn¡¯t matter. She would never harm anyone ever again. She was at peace.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispered.

    Then Jo ended her suffering for good.

    *

    *

    As Lucretia fell limp, the sword quaked ominously, chains clattering. Dark mist poured from the joints in her armor and pooled into her shadow.

    Kaja stared as if in a trance, the sound of her own heartbeat drowning out the voices of her companions. Whispers rose from her locket¡ªwarning, pleading.

    Amale was the first to notice the shift in her demeanor.

    Jo was the second.

    ¡°Kaja?¡±

    But Kaja wasn¡¯t listening. The mist was gathering, rising into the air above Lucretia. Kaja watched it with the same intensity of a lion staring down its prey. The beast inside of her was growing louder, demanding to be unleashed. She clutched the locket for support, desperately trying to focus on the whispers, but still the monster raged, becoming only more fearsome as the cloud of dark mist expanded.

    ¡°Kaja, what¡¯s wrong?¡± Jo asked. She lifted a supportive hand but it never reached Kaja¡¯s shoulder.

    Striking faster than the eye could track, the mist rushed past Jo, aimed like an arrow at Sakrattars. Kaja leapt instinctively in front of him. The beast inside her let out a savage roar: an ancient challenge to its hated foe.

    And then Kaja set it free.

    There was a brilliant flash of light as the mist collided with Kaja, her body collapsing as her spirit was pushed out. Diving, Sakrattars caught her in his arms before she struck the dungeon floor.

    ¡°Kaja!¡± he cried, guilt and fear crushing his chest. Her body was empty, unresponsive. ¡°Oh Gods, what did you do?¡±

    Yet Kaja¡¯s soul lingered, in a world of shifting light and shadow laced with shimmering trails of magic. She watched her friends moving as if time had slowed to a drip. Sakrattars was still diving to catch her body. Jo was in mid-stride towards them. Time had no effect on Kaja. She was in a new body, one of a dragon with shining white scales and silvery fins. It didn¡¯t feel foreign though, rather it felt as familiar as the body she had left behind.

    The beast was nothing to be afraid of¡ªit was her.

    A soft whisper reached her ears and she spotted the masked child from the inn on the road to Barsicum. Holding their doll, they were connected to her locket with a thin wisp of glimmering magic.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been with me all this time?¡± Kaja asked, though she had no voice to speak with.

    The child nodded, holding up a long, thin finger. The outsider was hovering above them, stunned by the collision with her dragon spirit. In the plane of ghosts and magic, Kaja could see the demon¡¯s true form: an abyssal dragon with a body of storm clouds, lightning arcing and pulsing throughout. It shifted, shivered, and roiled; frustration, shock, and fear rippled through the gaseous darkness of its form. Emotion, more than physics, seemed to define its reality. It paused in its throes, its elongated face turning down toward Kaja. The moment she looked into its searing white eyes, it fled, passing through the stone walls of the castrum as if they were illusions.

    A predatory instinct stirred in Kaja¡¯s heart. She roared with fury and spread her wings to give chase. Fighting against her better judgment, she accelerated as she approached the wall where the demon had disappeared. Yet even though some part of her expected to crash into solid stone, she, too, flew through effortlessly and into the night sky above Castrum Ustarius.

    Lightning cracked from the demon¡¯s eyes and a hailstorm brewed under its mighty wings. Behind it, a blood red shadow obscured the light of the moon. Kaja soared through the sky, hailstones suspended in time around her. She dove and spiraled underneath the creature to cut off its escape. It crashed into her, biting her neck and lashing her with its tail. Kaja raked it with her claws, bringing up her hind legs to slash its belly.

    As the ethereal battle raged, Kaja tore with her jaws, she ripped with her talons, she battered with her wings. The creature began to rapidly shapeshift, desperate to gain some advantage over its adversary.

    It turned into a squid, wrapping Kaja in shadowy tentacles. It morphed into a swarm of insects, only to be buffeted by a frozen plume of dragon breath. It turned into a sleek wolf, sprinting upside-down on the underside of the storm clouds. It ducked and dodged around the celestial lightning lancing out of the cloud¡¯s boiling depths, but was still unable to shake its pursuer.

    With a final roar, Kaja folded her wings and crashed into her prey like a hunting falcon.

    Locked in a deadly embrace, Kaja and the creature fell through the sky towards the fortress below. The demon was no match for her. All of her uncertainty melted away. Instead, she thought of Jo bleeding from corrupted wounds. She thought of Lucretia¡¯s torture and suffering. She thought of Saara living in an empty house stained with the blood of her family.

    And, finally, she allowed herself to think of her own home and the horrors that befell the Skolka that fateful winter night . . .

    Kaja was no longer afraid.

    She was angry.

    Kaja gripped the demon hard, plunging her claws deep as it thrashed. She sank her teeth into its throat and savaged it with a ferocity she didn¡¯t think she was capable of. The demon let out a cry of agony and terror as it dissolved in her grasp, particles scattering into the ethereal stream. The clouds parted and the shadow of the eclipse vanished, the moon¡¯s light shining anew. Kaja was stunned. She had killed it.

    But as the storm cleared, a different dragon came into view.

    Unlike Kaja and the otherworldly entity, this dragon was a mortal of the physical world, slowed by time so much that he appeared to be floating in the sky above Castrum Ustarius. Countless ethereal tendrils flowed into his massive, red body, surrounding him in a blinding halo of magic. His smoldering eyes turned up to glare into Kaja¡¯s own. It was then that she came to the horrifying realization: he could see her! The skin under the scales of his neck and chest glowed a molten-hot white and he let loose a stream of fire.

    But the dragon¡¯s malice hit Kaja before his flames did. Overwhelmed by dragon fear, she felt a powerful snap and her spirit slammed back into her physical body.

    Kaja gasped awake and tried to stand, but she slipped and crashed back down into Sakrattars¡¯ arms. She had grown used to the weightlessness of her spirit and her mortal body felt far too clumsy.

    ¡°What happened? Are you hurt?¡± Jo asked in a panic.

    Kaja wheezed, her voice cracking. She pointed desperately to the ceiling but any words she had were cut off by an earth-shattering crash and the high-pitched scream of fire blasting through stone.

    Dust and rubble rained down.

    Castrum Ustarius was collapsing.

 Session 8 - A Dragons Spirit

    Bhorovane flew in languid circles just above Castrum Ustarius, eyes scanning the ground for a landing spot. Normally he would just use fire to clear the trees in his way, but he had faced criticism before for his pugnacious behavior and tendency to frighten his supposed allies and he wasn¡¯t in any mood that night to receive a scolding.

    When he looped around again, a sudden hailstorm thundered into existence, pelting his red scales with ice. His senses tingled. This was no ordinary storm, he knew, it must be one of them. He snorted black smoke, nettled by the presence of the demon. So barely in control of their power, it was miraculous that they could conceal themselves from the lesser beings as they did.

    Bhorovane¡¯s suspicions were confirmed when he spotted a dark mist fleeing into the skies. So the experiment with Lucretia had indeed failed, but why had the creature vacated its vessel? Without a tether, it was dooming itself to being swept away back into the Abyss. Perhaps it had sensed him and decided to cut its losses by returning home at full strength instead of having the bulk of its energy eaten. They weren¡¯t particularly noted for using foresight or making wise decisions, though.

    As Bhorovane debated his options, a flash of light pierced the clouds and pursued the shadowy mist into the storm. An intense rage gripped him, erasing all other thoughts from his mind.

    Upstart!

    Whelp!

    Zmaj!

    The demon¡¯s oppressive magic dissipated and the sky cleared. So the creature has robbed him of his meal after all. Fire welled up in Bhorovane¡¯s stomach and churned into his throat. He breathed out a jet of flame just as the zmaj vanished back into the depths of the castrum, but it did nothing to vent his rage. Whether through incompetence or outright treachery, the Irkallu had allowed a thrice-damned zmaj right into their midst. Whichever sin they were guilty of, it made no difference¡ªheads would roll and, by all the gods, Bhorovane would be the one to set them rolling.

    All attempts at decorum forgotten, Bhorovane folded his wings and dived. Even in free-fall he felt his patience fraying. Rage built within him, boiling over into insensate fury. Memories of past injustices, left to fester for far too long, strangled out what was left of his sense, driving him downward toward the castle. Nothing would stop him from removing this threat, this rival.

    He crashed down on the ramparts, shaking the ruined castrum like an earthquake. His tail collided with one of the guard towers and the ancient stone crumbled under the force of the impact. As he smashed the parapet under his talons, he watched in satisfaction as Irkallu agents fled like ants scattering from a burning log. Their terror excited him. It was a thrill he had been too long denied.

    ¡°Alistair! Face me you cowering worm! Answer for your treachery!¡± he bellowed, and the very earth seemed to shake from his voice. The skin under his scales glowed white hot, flames seeping between his fangs and licking up the sides of his lips, and he bathed Castrum Ustarius in dragonfire.

    *

    *

    Alistair was at his desk when he heard the news that the guards posted at the records room had had an unusual encounter that night. There was only one possibility in his mind¡ªthe Ordo Draconis must have discovered their location. He ordered an agent to check on Lucretia immediately. The door of his chamber had barely clicked shut when an ear-piercing shriek split the night air. Alistair sucked in a breath and rose swiftly to his feet, a mixture of dread and anger creating a bitter taste in his mouth. An impact shook the building to its very core and Alistair pitched forward with a curse. Bhorovane! The damned dragon was going to destroy everything he had worked for. Hurriedly tying his sword belt around his hip, he surveyed the damage from the tower window.

    Bhorovane rampaged through the inner circle, rending open the stone walls as easily as a knife through parchment. Alistair had witnessed Bhorovane in the throes of wanton destruction before and this wasn¡¯t it. He moved with purpose, as if he were searching for something. But what? He should know that they were going to simply hand Lucretia over to him¡ªAlistair paused.

    Lucretia.

    He was now more certain than ever that something had happened to Lucretia. What that something was and how damaging it would be to his operation remained to be seen.

    Alistair stormed down the staircase, yelling orders to panicked agents as he passed them by. He was relieved when he came across Gorza. The orc priestess was immediately at his side.

    ¡°Any word on Lucretia?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Gorza said quickly, ¡°the caverns are collapsing. We don¡¯t even know if she survived the cave-in.¡±

    ¡°Damn it all! And Hester?¡±

    ¡°She wasn¡¯t in her chamber.¡±

    Alistair cursed under his breath. He pushed through his fleeing agents and emerged into the central keep. Everything that could burn, was burning. Embers hissed angrily among molten cobblestones as dark smoke billowed into the air. Cloaked in the smog was a hulking shadow. Alistair swallowed. He had forgotten how massive Bhorovane was.

    The dragon was coated in fine crimson scales. Their pattern was interrupted in dozens of places by scars, breaks, slashes, and old burns. His mane was long and scraggly, tangled in knots and frayed from damage. Black horns emerged from his head, the tips gleaming in orange firelight.

    As Bhorovane fixed Alistair with his gaze, they both froze. Alistair¡¯s heart pounded. The pure instinct of a small creature facing a mighty predator threatened to overwhelm him. Bhorovane knew this¡ªrelished it¡ªand kept his glittering eyes trained on Alistair. There would be no relief from their piercing glare.

    Alistair spoke, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. ¡°What is the meaning of this, Lord Bhorovane?¡±

    The dragon sneered, revealing ranks of fangs¡ªsome razor sharp, some horrifically broken. ¡°Where is it? Where is that little sneak-thief?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know whom you speak of, Lord.¡±

    Bhorovane snarled, darting his head forward as quick as lightning. Alistair didn¡¯t so much as flinch as Bhorovane¡¯s great snout stopped close enough for him to feel the heat of his breath and smell its foul order. ¡°You let a zmaj into your very keep,¡± the dragon said. ¡°I saw it.¡±

    Alistair took a deep breath to fight down the adrenaline surging through his body. A zmaj? Anger mixed with fear. He flexed his fists, careful to keep his emotions hidden. He couldn¡¯t afford to look weak, not in front of his men and not in front of this dragon. ¡°I didn¡¯t let anyone in.¡±

    ¡°Then your sin is incompetence and idiocy! Every bit as dangerous as treachery.¡± Bhorovane reared back, his lips curling to reveal every one of his ragged teeth. He inhaled deeply, his chest glowed. Alistair placed a hand on the pommel of his sword.

    An abrupt sound, like a great tree snapping, echoed into the night as a huge trap door opened up beneath Bhorovane. The dragon thrashed in confusion as the ground swallowed him in a cloud of dust and smoke. Alistair turned his head to see Gorza still holding on to the lever that had released the trap. She breathed heavily, having put all her strength into pulling down the rusted, nearly inoperable mechanism.

    Spring-loaded chains shot out from the walls, locking around Bhorovane¡¯s body, his neck, his ankles, even his tail. Though they were rusted and pitted with time, the magic forged into the metal was still strong. Bhorovane had fallen into a two thousand year old trap that the ancient Aurelians who had built Castrum Ustarius had set for his ancestors.

    Alistair didn¡¯t know if it was going to be enough to hold the dragon, but he hoped that it would at least buy him some time. He and Gorza raced back into the castrum and down the stairs to the dungeon level where the dragon was being held. A gust of hot, dusty wind billowed back Alistair¡¯s cloak and stung his face. The scene was utter chaos. Bhorovane raged against his bindings, roaring in fury and bathing the stones of his prison in roiling flames. Irkallu took cover behind whatever they could find; the lucky ones managed to escape through open doorways when the dragon¡¯s back was turned. Jezzail, who was taking shelter behind a shard of fallen wall, saw Alistair and struggled to her feet.

    ¡°I can¡¯t get close enough,¡± she rasped. ¡°I only need one shot.¡±

    ¡°Be ready then,¡± Alistair ordered. He stepped out into the ruins of the inner castrum, now open to the stars and moon above. ¡°Bhorovane!¡± he shouted. The dragon whipped his head around, fixating on Alistair, bloodthirsty hatred pulsating in his glowing ember eyes. Just this would be enough to strike a lesser man down, but Alistair was unwavering. ¡°This has gone too far. Stop this at once!¡±

    Bhorovane bared his fangs. The gall of this human. This puny, insignificant creature. He could crush him beneath one foot, swallow him in one bite, burn him to ashes on a whim. How dare he give him orders? He wanted nothing more than to claw his way out of the pit and crush Alistair between his jaws, but chains constricted his flesh whenever he tried to move his legs. Flames welled up in his throat, glowing bright orange and yellow, and he unleashed a blast of fire.

    The air between Alistair and Bhorovane sparkled, then twisted and warped. The dragonfire collided with the vortex and exited a different tear in reality, shooting harmlessly into the sky. Hester stood silently amidst the burning ruins, focusing on her arcane symbols, her black and red robe fluttering against her tall, thin frame. She drew another symbol and reality shifted again, bending the space around her into a dizzying fractal.

    With Hester acting as a diversion, Alistair unsheathed his sword and held it at attention. It coursed with Abyssal energy like fell lightning that crackled down into his arms. He relished the flow of power through his body and focused his attention on how best to direct his god¡¯s might.

    Then something happened that not even Alistair could have anticipated.

    A sabercat, the kind one would see on the faraway plains of Acathia, burst forth into the yard. The beast was gigantic, the biggest such cat Alistair had ever seen, but even more surprising was the fact that it carried two riders on its back. One was an elven wizard and the other appeared to be a child. The wizard held the child steady, but her head lolled, her white hair streaming down from beneath a tattered hood. Alistair¡¯s eyes widened. The zmaj! So it was true!

    Suddenly everything that had happened in the past few minutes clicked into place. The Ordo Draconis had found the child and sent her to kill Lucretia¡¯s demon. Alistair grinded his teeth. The old Ordo crone had outwitted him and now between her and Bhorovane¡¯s tantrum, all of the ground he had gained in Aurelia over the past year was slipping through his fingers. As much as it pained him to admit, there was nothing he could do. He couldn¡¯t possibly focus on capturing the zmaj child now, not when Bhorovane was set to kill them all, and with her under Anya and the Ordo¡¯s watch, he would need to regroup and rethink his strategy.

    Alistair and the elven wizard made eye contact as they passed by, so close to one another that they could make out each other¡¯s features. A lycaeon and a man, the latter bogged down in chainmail and a heavy pack, followed. So these were the people who had brought this ruination upon him. Alistair tensed as he allowed them to go. There was no other choice. He needed the zmaj alive. The Master of Hounds, who also sought out the girl, was more demon than Irkallu at this point. If he found her, he wouldn¡¯t be able to resist killing her. But if she knew where the other zmaj were hiding, then her capture would allow Alistair to prove himself the more worthy servant to their mutual master.

    Yet Alistair was not the only one who had noticed the zmaj¡¯s presence. Bhorovane¡¯s nostrils flared as he picked up the tantalizing scent.

    ¡°There you are, you little whelp!¡± he growled. Wheeling his great head around, he craned his neck forward to snatch up his prize.

    ¡°Jo!¡± the man in chainmail cried, breathless with fear and exhaustion. The sabercat and the elf turned to see Bhorovane¡¯s open jaws nearly upon them.

    ¡°Jezzail!¡± Alistair commanded sharply. ¡°Now!¡±

    A brilliant flash of green smoke exploded against the side of Bhorovane¡¯s face, halting his assault. He reared back with a snarl, shaking his head from the acidic sting. Jezzail, supported by Gorza, lobbed another bomb then shattered a small vial on the ground. A smokescreen hissed to life, cloaking her and Gorza and the sabercat riders. Seizing the opportunity, the sabercat disappeared through a molten hole in the wall, her companions following at her heels.

    With sight in one eye obscured by acid and the battlefield quickly becoming consumed in smoke, Bhorovane was growing increasingly angry. He inhaled, his neck and chest glowing, and let loose another blast of dragonfire. Hester warped reality again but by the time she caught on to Bhorovane¡¯s feint, his jaws were already closing in around her. He could feel the hem of her robes brushing past his lips and anticipated the warm, wet squelch of her life extinguishing on his fangs, but that satisfaction would never come.

    Spindly hands reached out from the Abyss and grabbed Bhorovane¡¯s shadow, paralyzing the dragon midstrike. Alistair smiled triumphantly, straining to channel all of his faith and power into holding Bhorovane captive. Using the last of his strength, he spun his sword around and drove it into the dragon¡¯s shadow. Bhorovane¡¯s head slammed down, his jaws rattling, as if some invisible force were holding him from above. Unable to move the rest of his body, he let out one last, defiant blast of fire, tearing through a wall of the castrum. The strangling grip of the abyssal hands only tightened in response.

    Now it was Alistair¡¯s turn to fix Bhorovane with his gaze. The dragon breathed heavily under the weight of the abyssal hands, his face twisted in anger. Yet now there was something more, Alistair was sure of it. Could it be revulsion? Humiliation?

    Perhaps even fear?

    Seizing the opportunity, Jezzail cracked a clay bomb under Bhorovane¡¯s nose. He inhaled the fumes helplessly, his vision blurring with each breath. A sleeping draught. It might dull his rage for a time but he was a dragon who held centuries long grudges and he would not soon forget this mistreatment.

    Bhorovane blinked. The ruins of Castrum Ustarius were just shadows dancing in the starlight now. Or were those the embers from the fires he had started? His eyes closed and he entered a dreamless sleep.

    *

    *

    Sakrattars¡¯ heart pounded, the chilling look on the face of the one called Alistair seared into his memory. He knew that they only escaped the encounter alive because Alistair had willed it. Something about the man shook Sakrattars deep to his core, scaring him even more than the dragon had. He clutched Kaja closer to his chest and tightened his grip on Jo¡¯s fur.

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    Behind them, they could still hear the battle raging¡ªthe roars of the dragon punctuated by unsettling noises that could only be the casting of spells. Jo dove through a collapsed wall into the outer castrum, bounding through the narrow corridor. The partially burned and crushed bodies of Irkallu agents lined the passage, briefly visible between clouds of dust and smoke. Sakrattars heaved at the sight. He was thankful that Kaja was unconscious for it.

    Behind them, Amale slowed his pace, offering the struggling Leif a supportive paw. Leif gasped for air, a combination of his armor, the smoke, and his own panic weighing him down. Jo paused, waiting for them to catch up.

    ¡°Go! Go!¡± Leif yelled hoarsely, waving them forward.

    Jo hesitated. They were almost out. If they could just find their way to the gates, they would be able to vanish into the surrounding hills. If they got separated, the chances of everyone making it out diminished. She deliberated for the briefest of moments when a deafening shriek froze her heart.

    A screen of flames, rubble, and smoke erupted through the wall, swallowing Amale and Leif faster than anyone could react.

    Sakrattars willed himself to want to jump down and plow heroically through the crumbled ruins to pull them to safety but, to his shame, he was far too afraid. In the face of certain death, he was only concerned with saving his own life. ¡°We need to go!¡± he cried, desperately grasping at reasons to run. ¡°We need to get Kaja out of here!¡± Jo¡¯s ears twitched at that and she spun around after another moment¡¯s hesitation, leaving Leif and Amale behind.

    Just as Sakrattars thought they would succumb to the suffocating air, they reached the gates. The rolling hills teemed with confused and injured Irkallu agents. Fortunately, they were too concerned with their own survival to notice or care about the companions. Even still, Jo didn¡¯t stop running until they were hidden in a grove of dark trees.

    Sakrattars slid off Jo¡¯s back, carrying Kaja¡¯s small body in his arms. He never noticed how thin and light she was. Her eyes were closed, her face peaceful. If it weren¡¯t for all the soot and dust covering her, she would look like a child in a deep, tranquil sleep. He fought back tears as he laid her down on the grass.

    She had saved him from the shadow creature. She had saved all of them. When the dragon struck, Kaja used her magic to break the fall of the rubble with a protective wall of ice. The strain had been too much for her though and she collapsed, but not before they were able to get away. Sakrattars felt a light breath pass through her parted lips and the tears began to flow freely down his cheeks.

    ¡°She¡¯s alive,¡± he confirmed. Jo bowed her head, her shoulders relaxing. They both glanced back at the castrum. It was eerily quiet. Had the Irkallu succeeded at quelling the raging dragon? Jo looked meaningfully at Sakrattars. He didn¡¯t need words to understand what she wanted to do: she was going back to look for Leif and Amale.

    A familiar, gruff voice stopped her.

    ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± Amale emerged limping from the shadows, Leif supporting him with an arm around his shoulders. Jo rushed forward, her transformation hardly breaking her stride, and scooped them both up in a relieved embrace.

    Sakrattars almost laughed in disbelief, his head spinning. ¡°We all made it.¡±

    ¡°The dragon made an exit for us,¡± Leif said, turning over his palms. His gloves were scorched and ragged and the skin underneath bright red. Then he noticed that Amale¡¯s legs were shaking. His paw pads were burned so badly from walking on hot embers that just the act of standing sent waves of pain shooting up his spine. Leif forced a smile. ¡°Christina will have her hands full with us, eh, old friend?¡±

    Before Amale could answer, several riders on horseback broke over the ridge wearing the familiar navy blue of the Ordo Draconis, Linnea among them. Once she spotted the companions, she wheeled her horse around.

    ¡°There you are,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m glad to find you safe.¡±

    Jo, dressed only in a loin cloth and an undershirt, saw red. She grabbed Linnea off of her shying horse and slammed her up against a tree. Two agents unsheathed their weapons but Linnea signaled them to back down.

    ¡°You knew!¡± Jo snarled, pressing on Linnea¡¯s chest harder. ¡°You knew that Lucretia couldn¡¯t be saved.¡±

    Linnea winced but didn¡¯t defend herself.

    ¡°¡®Can¡¯t spare the agents?¡¯ ¡®Kaja is safest with us?¡¯¡± Jo continued, her eyes flashing dangerously. ¡°You made us do your dirty work and to the Abyss with us if we died while doing it!¡± She slammed Linnea back again.

    ¡°Jo.¡± Sakrattars placed a hand on her arm. ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡± Jo grunted, waited a moment longer, then released Linnea, who fell to the ground with a thud.

    ¡°I had¡ªI had my doubts,¡± Linnea wheezed. ¡°That¡¯s why I came here.¡±

    ¡°We agreed to a rescue, not an execution. We were almost killed! And for what?¡±

    ¡°The Grandmistress can explain¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, she will,¡± Jo said. ¡°She better.¡±

    *

    *

    When Bhorovane awoke, the first kiss of sunrise had just graced the dark horizon and Castrum Ustarius lay as abandoned as it had been for the last one thousand years. The magic in the ancient chains had finally given out and he was able to tear through them like they were made of twine. He looked around. The damned Irkallu had been thorough, even the bodies of their dead hadn¡¯t been left behind.

    He spread his great wings and leapt into the air, banking himself toward the west and placing the rising sun at his back. For the first time that night, Bhorovane realized the situation he was in. No Lucretia, no demon, no Irkallu, and no zmaj.

    His Master was not going to be pleased.

    *

    *

    Jo ripped a banner down as she marched into the Grandmistress¡¯s private hall, followed closely by her companions as well as Linnea. Grandmistress Anya was standing alone at the far side of the room, her gnarled hands clasped gently behind her. Though she must have heard Jo¡¯s raucous entry, still she stared at a large, golden egg-shaped statue as if lost in thought.

    ¡°You!¡± Jo¡¯s voice echoed through the hollow room, reverberating off of the high stone arches.

    The Grandmistress turned to face her guests. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to hear my explanation?¡± she asked.

    Jo retaliated in her native natiuhan. Sakrattars knew enough of the language to recognize that what she said was extremely rude. ¡°Hear why you almost had us killed for a lie?¡± Jo flexed her fist, adjusting her grip on her cestus. ¡°Tell me instead why I shouldn¡¯t strike you down where you stand.¡± Linnea lunged forward at this, blocking Jo¡¯s path. Both braced to attack.

    ¡°That is quite enough!¡± Anya boomed, her voice unusually deep and unnaturally loud. Her shape grew and changed before their eyes, her limbs becoming long and thick, her neck extending out from her enlarging chest. A golden tail as wide as Jo¡¯s torso slammed down, stopping her in her tracks. Jo fought the urge to flee with every fiber of her being as a gigantic dragon¡¯s head snaked forward.

    ¡°You¡¯re one of them too,¡± she said, a wry smile parting her trembling lips.

    ¡°I am.¡± Anya craned her head towards Kaja. Kaja stared awestruck into Anya¡¯s dark red eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, little one. I see now that we should have had this conversation earlier. Still, will you listen to what I have to tell you?¡±

    Kaja, frozen in place, nodded slowly. She didn¡¯t fear Anya the way she had feared Bhorovane but being in the presence of a great dragon was overwhelming all the same.

    ¡°It is the Ordo¡¯s sworn duty to protect the Empire from its many enemies,¡± Anya started. ¡°We operate out of sight, in the shadows, and it is there we found the Irkallu.

    ¡°The Irkallu claim to be following the will of a god they call Norsivex. They say he is a god of justice, one who has passed judgment on the world and deemed it wicked.

    ¡°There¡¯s much we still do not fully understand, but we do know that they are in league with malevolent entities. Those who exist outside our physical realm¡ªwhat you may call ¡®demons¡¯. The Irkallu who prove themselves worthy are chosen to be vessels for these demons and become the so-called Fallen. These dark entities are immortal. We can slay the Fallen but the demon returns to the Abyss to await their next chance to breach into our world.¡±

    ¡°But a zmaj can kill them,¡± Sakrattars said quietly. The pieces were falling into place.

    Anya nodded. ¡°Not just kill them. Destroy them. Forever. You know that now too don¡¯t you, little one?¡±

    Kaja swallowed nervously. ¡°Yes, I. . . I killed it.¡±

    The companions exchanged glances. Kaja hadn¡¯t told them any details about what had happened while she was unconscious; they knew only that the demon had fled after she shielded Sakrattars from its attack.

    ¡°Your kind continues to amaze me,¡± Anya said. ¡°In the stories, zmaj are our protectors¡ªthose who fight against the demons that thrive on our suffering and threaten our world. But it¡¯s for this reason that the Irkallu are hunting you, are hunting your people. You¡¯re the only ones who can stand in their way.¡±

    ¡°Do you know where my people are?¡± Kaja asked.

    Anya shook her head. ¡°I hoped that you would be able to tell us that, so that we could join forces. If the zmaj unite, the demons will fall and the Irkallu will perish.¡±

    Kaja¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°We can do that?¡±

    ¡°Yes, little one,¡± Anya said with a good-natured chuff. ¡°Zmaj and dragons share a deep and powerful connection. It is my hope that we can be friends and allies once more.¡±

    ¡°The dragon at Castrum Ustarius didn¡¯t seem to think they shared a ¡®deep and powerful connection¡¯,¡± Jo said, crossing her arms.

    Anya looked to Linnea for an explanation. ¡°Bhorovane, Grandmistress,¡± she said.

    Anya¡¯s expression became grave. ¡°Bhorovane and his ilk have fallen far from where we once were. We are supposed to be guardians of this world, its greatest defenders, and perhaps in their own twisted way they still believe they are fulfilling their duty. But they have become consumed by hatred, arrogance, and fear¡ªso much so, they have actually found common cause with these demons and their Irkallu allies.¡±

    ¡°But why couldn¡¯t you have come with us?¡± Jo said, her anger returning. ¡°You could have faced Bhorovane as Kaja faced the demon. Why did you let us¡ªlet her¡ªdo it alone?¡±

    Anya closed her eyes. ¡°Look at me,¡± she said. Long, jagged scars ran the length of her body, her teeth and claws were blunt from age, and her gold scales lacked luster. She moved slowly and deliberately, as if it pained her. ¡°My fighting days ended centuries ago. Bhorovane would have killed me and then what would happen? The Ordo would be without their leader and the Emperor without his advisor. No, we all have our parts to play and my place now is here in Aurea, as it was my mother¡¯s before me.¡± Anya looked wistfully at the Imperial banner, at the gold dragon emblem that was the symbol of the Aurean Empire. ¡°That design is meant to represent my mother, who was present at the foundation. It was she who advised the first Emperor, Ignatius I, after his election and it was I who patrolled the skies.¡±

    She turned to the dais and gently nuzzled the golden egg. ¡°Had my daughter been born when she was meant to,¡± she said, ¡°she would be strong enough now to stand up against our enemies. She would be the Empire¡¯s shining champion. The Irkallu wouldn¡¯t dare settle in Aurelia, knowing that she could rain fire down upon them.¡±

    In the wonder of meeting the first dragon who wasn¡¯t actively trying to kill him, Sakrattars had not thought of Anya as threatening. But seeing the menacing look in her eyes now, he was reminded that, for as elderly and kind as she appeared to be, she was still a dragon and she had not gotten all of her scars attending meetings and filing paperwork. Like most Imperials, he always believed that the dragons of Aurelia died out long ago and that was why, while distant lands like Stjornugaard or Akalia were plagued by them, Aurelia remained safe. But now he knew the truth: Aurelia was Anya¡¯s territory and she had defended it fiercely. It was only now in her old age that younger, fitter dragons like Bhorovane felt emboldened to encroach on it.

    Jo looked at the egg and her face softened. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you lost her,¡± she murmured. She was still angry at Anya but her sympathy was genuine.

    ¡°It happened so long ago,¡± Anya sighed heavily. ¡°An Irkallu operative infiltrated the nesting chamber and got to her before we could. By the time I arrived, her egg had gone cold. I tried everything to get her back, but whatever spell they cast refuses to let her go. She exists like this now: neither living nor dead.¡±

    Jo clenched a fist. No one deserved such a fate, to be forever out of Melcuni¡¯s reach. Was there no low that the Irkallu wouldn¡¯t strive for? But any scathing words she had were immediately swallowed up by a gentle movement in the corner of her eye.

    Kaja approached the dais. She climbed the steps and kneeled on the cushions. If anyone thought they should stop her, no one acted on it. Perhaps they could sense that something beyond their understanding was at work.

    Emaciated tendrils of magic flowed into the egg, stifled by a powerful aura of malice. It reminded Kaja of the stagnant miasma that had shrouded Lucretia. There was no doubt¡ªa demon was feeding off of the dragon child, keeping its host alive while eating its magic. Spindly, shadowy hands gripped at the tiny soul inside the egg, forever trapping it midway between the world of the living and the cold darkness of the Abyss. Kaja placed a hand on the cool, smooth shell.

    The next thing she knew, she was in her spirit body, the one of a white dragon. Before her, cloaked by a massive plume of pulsating demonic energy, was the curled, slumbering form of the dragon child. A chill welled up in Kaja¡¯s throat and she let loose a blast of icy magic, splitting the miasma asunder and scattering it into thousands of glittering, frozen shards. The veins of magic feeding the egg swelled and glowed, infusing new life into the child within. The baby dragon¡¯s eyes cracked open.

    Kaja.

    Did it speak to her?

    ¡°Kaja!¡±

    Kaja opened her eyes to Jo¡¯s concerned face. Sakrattars, Leif, and Amale were gathered behind her.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Kaja smiled weakly. ¡°I¡¯m okay.¡±

    ¡°My daughter . . .¡± Anya¡¯s voice trailed off, as if she couldn¡¯t fully believe what she was seeing. ¡°She¡¯s . . . alive . . .¡± Linnea now joined the companions around the dais. The egg, formerly dull and lifeless, was now shining and warm. A glow like the soothing heat of a summer¡¯s day suffused the formerly cold chamber. ¡°How. . . how did you. . .¡± Anya gasped, her golden quills bristling with a decidedly youthful excitement. ¡°Oh, Kaja! You¡¯ve saved her!¡±

    Sakrattars and Leif exchanged shocked glances. Jo, her arms falling limp, watched in stunned silence as Kaja rose and met Anya¡¯s great snout in a warm embrace.

    Kaja stayed with Anya until late into the night, talking in her native Draconic, learning about dragons and about zmaj. It had been so long since she was around her own kind and she yearned for someone she could connect to, someone who would understand her and what she was going through in a way that her companions could not.

    The companions all retired for the night one by one, until it was just Kaja and Anya left alone in the grand room. And when Kaja fell asleep, leaned up against the egg, Anya wrapped her tail protectively around them and watched over their dreams.

    *

    *

    Bartholomew stared at the quill¡¯s frenzied movement, slowly blinking one vacant eye then the other. Sakrattars was determined to document all that he had learned about zmaj that night. Many of his questions had been answered yet those same answers had opened up a way forward into seemingly infinite branching paths of knowledge. He was right to think that the zmaj and the demons were connected, but what was the nature of their history? Why were zmaj so uniquely suited to slaying them? It was almost as if they were intentionally designed that way. . . and he couldn¡¯t ignore the look of contempt Bhorovane had when he saw what Kaja was. Why did one dragon despise zmaj, while another was eager to welcome them?

    An unexpected knock on the door startled him from his thoughts. He got up to investigate and found Jo standing outside.

    ¡°Can I help you?¡± he asked awkwardly.

    ¡°Can we talk?¡± Jo didn''t wait for an answer and ducked into the room. He bustled past her and casually closed his spellbook over the parchment. He was quite certain that Jo couldn¡¯t read Elven but he didn¡¯t want to risk questions. Luckily, Jo paid it no mind. She sat on the edge of his bed; her hair was mussed and dark circles blotted the skin under her eyes. It was clear that she hadn¡¯t slept but for very different reasons than he hadn¡¯t.

    ¡°Is it about tonight?¡± Sakrattars probed, his voice quiet and measured.

    Jo sucked in a sharp breath. ¡°I''m still angry that the Ordo would lie to us like that. Anya had no guarantee that Kaja could do that dragon thing.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I don''t like this, any of it. They don¡¯t actually care about her, they¡¯re just using her. I can feel it.¡±

    Sakrattars turned his chair around and sat down. ¡°They didn''t have a choice. You heard what Anya said. Zmaj are the only ones who can fight these demons and Kaja is the only zmaj they know.¡±

    ¡°She could have told us.¡±

    ¡°Would you have let Kaja go if you knew the truth?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe¡ªyou agree with them.¡± It was an accusation, not a question.

    Sakrattars didn''t answer right away. ¡°It¡¯s not about what I think,¡± he said. ¡°The Irkallu tortured Lucretia, killed Saara¡¯s parents, maybe even destroyed Kaja¡¯s own village. They¡¯re slaughtering her people, Jo. Don¡¯t you think they should be stopped? Don¡¯t you think that Kaja would want to stop them?¡± A long silence followed.

    ¡°She¡¯s just a child,¡± Jo said softly.

    ¡°I think she wants to protect others just as much as you want to protect her.¡±

    ¡°I''m not so sure I can protect her from this,¡± Jo murmured. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. ¡°You know, you¡¯re really bad at making someone feel better,¡± she joked behind a forced smile.

    ¡°You asked to speak with me, remember? Maybe you¡¯re just really bad at picking a listening ear.¡±

    Jo laughed wryly, her eyes unfocusing. ¡°Yeah, you got me there.¡± She stood. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to it then.¡±

    Sakrattars opened his door to let her out. ¡°In all seriousness, Kaja¡¯s stronger than all of us. She doesn¡¯t need us worrying about her.¡±

    Jo stopped in the doorway. ¡°What exactly did she say earlier? To the dragon¡ªto Anya.¡±

    ¡°She was describing the battle between her and the demon.¡±

    ¡°Did she sound frightened?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    A brief pause. ¡°Good. That¡¯s. . . good.¡± Then Jo was gone.

    Sakrattars closed the door and walked back to the desk. He ran his fingers over the cover of his spellbook and flipped it open to his notes¡ªthe notes that could turn his career around.

    ¡°She doesn''t need us,¡± he repeated to Bartholomew. ¡°I¡¯d say that we all need her a lot more.¡±

    STORY ARC 1: ORDO DRACONIS

    ¡ªEND¡ª

 End of Arc 1 Art Post - Character Profiles

    Hi everyone! Thank you so much for your support in getting us this far. We look forward to starting up Arc 2 next month.

    As you may know, Tales from Aurea is based on a game of Pathfinder we play together so I thought it would be fun to show where the characters were stat-wise at this point in the story. Enjoy!

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    (art drawn by me)

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 Session 9 - Winds from the Steppe

    Dimitri Vasiliyev walked the length of the underground corridor accompanied only by the hollow clicking of his boot heels on limestone. Though the occasional administrator hurried by with a stack of parchment or bag of scrolls, the Ordo Draconis headquarters was otherwise an unusually quiet, barren place. The resurgence of the Irkallu meant every agent was working overtime in the field and fewer and fewer were making it back home. Dimitri¡¯s jaw tightened. Astinos, Ferial, Bandrigan, Lucretia; they and dozens of others had already been lost. Dimitri himself suspected he might be joining their ranks soon.

    He was scheduled to leave for Datharia the next day, though he couldn¡¯t for the life of him understand why. The Emperor was convinced that Gorzog Ironfang was the problem of the Snowskull Steppes, and not the Empire. Instead of allying with the ferix, who knew the Steppes and Ironfang well, the Emperor had chosen to leave Datharia naked and exposed. Dimitri could only imagine that his post would involve watching Ironfang¡¯s armies approach Datharia from across the brown, bleak grasslands.

    And who among their neighbors could they rely upon? The city states of the former province, Ascalaria, were tied up in petty squabbles in the lead up to the winter moot where they¡¯d allegedly elect a new High King; and the raiders of Balthissica were more likely to loot Aurelia¡¯s corpse than ride to defend her.

    The southeastern natiuhan state of Culacalli may come to the Empire¡¯s aid but, unless they sprouted wings and flew, there was no way they¡¯d make it before Ironfang hacked his way through the Aurelian peninsula and to the island of Aurea itself. The way Dimitri saw it, an alliance with the ferix was their only chance to stop Ironfang in the Steppes. Once he reached Aurelia, Ironfang could barricade himself in an old Castrum, or even in Barsicum, and no one would be able to uproot him¡ªnot with the Irkallu bleeding the Empire from within by a thousand tiny cuts.

    Dimitri took in a weighty breath. As it stood, if he was lucky he¡¯d be killed defending the ramparts of Castrum Solis. Something nice and quick¡ªan orc crossbow bolt, or maybe just dropping dead before anything particularly bad happened. He snickered at how darkly comforting the idea was.

    ¡°Dimitri Vasiliyev.¡± He flashed his identification, an encoded parchment chit with symbols only other members of the Ordo could make any sense of. ¡°The Grandmistress requested to see me.¡±

    The sentry nodded curtly and led Dimitri into Grandmistress Anya¡¯s personal chambers. Dimitri noted the numerous guards standing vigilantly at their posts. To an outsider, it would appear as if they were there to defend the elderly leader of the Ordo Draconis in light of the recent events. But Dimitri knew that Anya was more than capable of taking care of herself¡ªwhat the sentinels were really protecting was her egg.

    With the near-miraculous warming of her centuries-cold egg, Anya wasn¡¯t taking any chances. She selected agents she had known for their entire lives, people she knew she could trust, and formed an elite guard charged with the day and night protection of her unhatched daughter.

    As if the guards weren¡¯t enough, there was also a team of kobolds attending to the egg. Dimitri had heard the name of their group once¡ªit was in Draconic, which was one of the only languages he hadn¡¯t dabbled in. The name translated roughly to ¡°nestminders¡± or ¡°egg-tenders¡±. These kobolds and their ancestors had cared for the children of many dragons, it was possible they were descended from the kobolds who had cared for Anya herself while she was in the egg. They understood the needs of a dragon¡¯s egg better than any human or elf ever could and were the last line of defense should the nest come under attack.

    Centuries ago, when the nestminders failed in their duty to protect Anya¡¯s daughter from the Irkallu, they pledged their bloodlines to her service. They became her most devoted followers, though Anya always tried to dissuade them from treating her like a goddess the way some kobold flocks did with others of her kind. Even still, she knew that every single one of them would give their lives before they allowed a scratch on her daughter¡¯s golden shell.

    So focused were these hooded and robed kobolds on their duties¡ªtaking careful warmth measurements of the egg using the sensitive membranes on the underside of their chins, and adjusting the nest materials accordingly¡ªthat they barely looked up when Dimitri entered and approached the simple wooden chair where Anya sat.

    ¡°Grandmistress.¡± Dimitri bowed low in respect.

    Anya smiled, a thin, wan expression. In the weeks since the incident at Castrum Ustarius with Bhorovane the Red, Anya had been patrolling the skies in the dead of night¡ªsomething she hadn¡¯t had to do for decades. Thankfully, there weren¡¯t any signs that Bhorovane, or any other dragon, remained in Aurelia but the exertion had taken its toll.

    Currently in her human form, Anya¡¯s wrinkles had deepened with worry. Several strands of her gray-blonde hair fell messily forward from her bun as she stood to greet him. ¡°I hope you won¡¯t think me rude for skipping straight to the point, Agent Vasiliyev.¡±

    ¡°Quite the contrary, Grandmistress.¡± Dimitri flashed a roguish grin in an attempt to lighten the mood. ¡°I am a rather busy man.¡±

    ¡°That you are, agent,¡± Anya chuckled, a quiet, breathy sound that was only truly perceived through the slight rising and falling of her shoulders. ¡°And you will only be becoming more so. I suspect you¡¯re going to be very happy with what I¡¯m about to tell you.¡± Dimitri¡¯s heart skipped a beat as the next few words came out of Anya¡¯s mouth. ¡°I¡¯m sending you to the Steppes.¡±

    ¡°In what capacity?¡±

    ¡°You will be heading to the ferix citadel at the foot of the Grayspurs¡ª¡±

    ¡°Forgeheart?¡±

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s the one,¡± Anya corrected wearily. ¡°You are to meet with Vyrkad Gleamgear, commander of the Free Ferix Legions. You must convince him to sign onto an alliance with the Empire and meet Gorzog Ironfang on the battlefield.¡±

    Dimitri could hardly believe what he was hearing. A part of him wanted to abandon any decorum, snap his fingers by his ears, and see if he woke up. Instead, he settled for more information. ¡°If I may be so bold: what changed?¡± he asked.

    Anya turned away and folded her hands against the small of her back. ¡°We¡¯ve received some distressing reports from the Datharian line. I know what you¡¯re thinking, agent¡ªdon¡¯t give me that look. I¡¯d like to remind you that I¡¯ve always believed your assessment of the region and shared your opinion. But the Empire is at a delicate point in its history and some things must take priority over others.¡±

    ¡°And what has convinced the Emperor that a shift in priorities was required?¡± Dimitri asked, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice.

    ¡°Our patrols report orcs flocking to Ironfang¡¯s banner by the thousands, and those clans who choose to refuse him are being extinguished or driven out. I don¡¯t believe his sudden domination over the fractured clans of the Steppes is a coincidence,¡± she paused. ¡°Rumors have been circulating of dark rituals and fanatical devotions.¡±

    Dimitri¡¯s eyebrows raised. ¡°You think the Irkallu are involved?¡±

    Anya nodded. ¡°And, if that¡¯s the case, the Empire cannot afford to sit by and let them grow stronger. Yet neither can we commit to fighting them alone.¡±

    ¡°So the Emperor wants the Free Ferix Legions to aid us.¡±

    ¡°No, we will aid the Free Ferix Legions,¡± Anya corrected.

    Dimitri understood the distinction immediately. What price was the Emperor going to demand from Forgeheart for the Empire¡¯s ¡°help¡±?

    Sensing his question, Anya continued. ¡°I¡¯m assuming you¡¯ve read the reports about the ferix weapons?¡±

    ¡°I have,¡± Dimitri said steadily. It was all coming together now. ¡°Something about summoning fire without magic and the ability to slay a foe without touching him.¡±

    ¡°We need to make sure that these weapons stay out of Irkallu hands. Whatever it takes.¡±

    ¡°I agree, Grandmistress.¡± Dimitri swallowed the rest of his doubts. As long as Ironfang was stopped and the peoples of the Steppes and Datharia free from his suffocating shadow, Dimitri would gladly handle whatever else may come of it. That was a problem for his future self. ¡°Shall I assemble the usual team?¡±

    ¡°Yes, plus a few others. I want you to take the zmaj, Kaja, and her friends along with you. If the Irkallu are indeed active in the Steppes, then you may encounter Fallen and Kaja is the only one who can face them and hope to survive.¡±

    Dimitri shot Anya a quizzical look. It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t believe her, but he was still dubious that such a shy, young girl possessed the power he had heard rumor of. ¡°You know that one of her companions is a Stjornugaardian, right? Perhaps a Volgarian is less than an ideal choice to bring him on board¡ªour people aren¡¯t exactly known for camaraderie.¡±

    Anya smiled and answered Dimitri¡¯s facetiousness with some of her own. ¡°Are you telling me that there¡¯s someone out there who¡¯s immune to your charms?¡±

    ¡°Now I wouldn¡¯t go that far.¡± Dimitri returned her smile. ¡°When do we leave?¡±

    ¡°As soon as possible,¡± Anya said. ¡°And Agent Vasiliyev?¡±

    Dimitri stopped mid-stride and turned back to face his Grandmistress.

    ¡°This is a diplomatic mission only,¡± she said sternly. ¡°No heroics.¡±

    He flashed his most charismatic grin. ¡°Understood.¡±

    *

    *

    Sakrattars gazed out the window, chin in hand, and watched the thunderstorm roll through. With the onset of early autumn it rained more frequently, but rather than being a cooling relief from the oppressive heat of Aurelian summer, it created a thick blanket of humidity that settled over Aurea like a fog.

    It had been almost one month since they had their brush with death at Castrum Ustarius and learned of the zmaj¡¯s true nature. Fortunately, the time since then had been quiet, if a little boring. Sakrattars spent his days reading at the Academia Arcana (the Ordo Draconis granted him special permission to peruse any part of the collection he liked) while Jo, Leif, and Amale picked up odd jobs around the city for coin.

    On their days off, Leif and Jo would spar in the courtyard, to the delight of the residents at the convent eager for an entertaining reprise from their illness or worries. Ever the showman, Leif played off of Jo¡¯s easy superiority to create a scrappy underdog character for himself that had sick children hooting and hollering and young women tittering. He always seemed to put on his greatest performances whenever he thought that Christina might look their way, but of course she never did.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s noticed that you exist,¡± Jo would tease between strikes.

    But Leif would only smile and laugh. ¡°A woman so dedicated to her work is a woman I can deeply admire!¡±

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    Occasionally Kaja would go out with Leif and Jo and play with the children staying at the convent. More often though, she was at the Ordo Draconis headquarters with Anya and her egg. She would sometimes return home late in the evening, escorted by the Grandmistress¡¯ private guard. Kaja discovered early on that any mention of Anya around Jo would be met with prickly scorn and so she would ramble in Draconic to Sakrattars about all the things she learned from the ancient dragon. Sakrattars noticed that she seemed brighter and more confident after spending time with Anya. Perhaps they shared a certain kinship, as dragon kind, that neither he nor any of the others could truly understand or provide a substitute for.

    The low growl of thunder rumbled in the sky, reverberating into Sakrattars¡¯ chest and prompting Bartholomew to open one yellow eye. There would be no sparring in the courtyard or trips to the Ordo headquarters today. Everyone was trapped inside by the weather, which was why it was surprising when a knock sounded at the door. Amale, who was sitting at the table with Kaja, pricked his ears back towards the sudden noise.

    ¡°I got it,¡± Sakrattars grumbled wearily, rising from his comfortable perch in the window nook. With a few arcane words and a pinch of sand, he activated one of the spells he had previously etched into the door. As he peered through the peephole, Jo moved in quietly behind him, ready to provide support should the guest prove to be a problem.

    Sakrattars recognized the man outside as the one they had seen at the Ordo Draconis meeting all those weeks ago, the one who delivered his report on Gorzog Ironfang. He was dressed in padded traveling clothes now, with a stylish outer coat in the Ordo Draconis¡¯ signature dark blue color and a rapier sheathed at his hip. He pulled his dripping hood back and shook out a mop of messy black hair.

    ¡°Who is it?¡± Sakrattars called.

    ¡°Dimitri Vasiliyev of the Ordo Draconis,¡± the man introduced himself in a heavy Volgarian accent. ¡°I hope I¡¯ve caught you at a good time?¡± He grinned, rubbing the dark stubble on his chin.

    Sakrattars pressed his fingers lightly to the wood of the door, letting the spell¡¯s magic flow into him. He sensed no malice or dishonesty from the energetic imprint Dimitri left behind and so he dispelled the lock and opened the door.

    ¡°That depends what you¡¯re here for,¡± Jo replied before Sakrattars could say any words of greeting.

    Dimitri slipped inside, removing his soaking wet coat and hanging it casually on a peg. ¡°I come with a job offer.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t work for the Ordo.¡±

    ¡°You have no problem living under our roof,¡± Dimitri chuckled, gesturing broadly to the room. Jo did not share his amusement. If anything, her expression only darkened.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Leif asked groggily, leaning against the doorframe of his bedchamber with a hand under his shirt. He stopped mid-scratch when he saw Dimitri. ¡°I thought I heard a foul Volgarian voice.¡±

    Ignoring Leif¡¯s scathing remark, Dimitri clapped his hands together. ¡°Good, you¡¯re all here. I¡¯ll get straight into it.¡± He sat down at the table, across from Amale and Kaja. ¡°I¡¯m being sent to the Snowskull Steppes and I want you to be a part of my team. You¡¯ll be paid by the Ordo, of course.¡±

    ¡°Snowskull Steppes?¡± Jo repeated. ¡°Why would we go there?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard of the Gorzog Ironfang problem. I¡¯m going to Forgeheart to take care of it.¡±

    ¡°You?¡± Jo laughed mockingly. ¡°With what? That toy sword? The orcs and ferix will eat you alive.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s no toy. If you¡¯d like, I can show you.¡±

    Sakrattars, Leif, and Amale all exchanged alarmed glances and sucked in anxious breaths. But, rather than getting provoked, Jo¡¯s amber eyes softened ever so slightly. ¡°You¡¯ve got guts,¡± she said with a hint of respect.

    ¡°Alas,¡± Dimitri replied nonchalantly, ¡°¡®guts¡¯ won¡¯t be enough. I would love to have a natiuhan warrior on my side, especially one with prior experience on the northern border¡±¡ªhe turned to Leif and Amale¡ª¡°and two former members of the auxilia¡±¡ªfinally, his eye settled on Sakrattars¡ª¡°and you too.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a wizard.¡± Sakrattars crossed his arms, his lips pursed. ¡°Trained by the School of Divination at the University of Barsicum.¡±

    ¡°Really? Wonderful.¡±

    Sakrattars scoffed at Dimitri¡¯s blase attitude, but was ignored.

    ¡°And Kaja?¡± Jo asked acidly.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be honest with you, because I would like for us to be friends,¡± Dimitri said, leaning forward on the table and steepling his fingers. ¡°We believe that the Irkallu may be involved with Ironfang somehow. The Grandmistress thinks it would be prudent for Kaja to be present.¡±

    ¡°So you want to use her to kill demons again,¡± Jo accused. ¡°Why should she have to get involved in Imperial affairs? She¡¯s not a citizen.¡±

    Dimitri looked over everyone present. ¡°I¡¯d guess there are only two Imperial citizens in this room: myself and the elf¡ª¡±

    ¡°My name is Sakrattars.¡±

    ¡°¡ªbut this is not just about the Empire,¡± Dimitri continued. ¡°The Irkallu and their Fallen brethren will not just go away, and the Ordo will not be able to shelter you forever. We can either face them now or you can wait for them to find you again.¡±

    ¡°I want to help,¡± Kaja said firmly, her eyes hardened with determination. ¡°If I can, I want to help.¡±

    Jo shot her a surprised look. ¡°Kaja¡ª¡±

    ¡°Jo, a word please?¡± Sakrattars interjected quickly. Jo glared at Dimitri, who shrugged and nestled back into the chair, crossing his legs.

    ¡°Take your time,¡± he said. ¡°The weather out there is abhorrent.¡±

    Once they were alone in Sakrattars¡¯ chamber, Jo snorted in frustration. ¡°What is it?¡± she asked gruffly. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you agree with that guy.¡±

    Sakrattars paused for a little too long and Jo¡¯s lip curled, her eyes narrowing. ¡°Yes, but not for the reason you think,¡± he said carefully. ¡°He¡¯s irritating and I don¡¯t like him, but I¡¯ve also spent weeks combing through the Academia Arcana¡¯s library. I must have handled practically every book in their collection by now and I¡¯ve found absolutely nothing in any of them about the zmaj.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s your point?¡±

    Sakrattars sighed and ran an exasperated hand through his hair. ¡°My point is that we¡¯re not going to be able to help Kaja find her people by staying here in Aurea.¡±

    Jo folded her arms on her chest. ¡°So your solution is to throw ourselves into the Empire¡¯s affairs?¡±

    There was more to it than that, Sakrattars knew, though he couldn¡¯t possibly share it with Jo. The past several weeks had afforded Sakrattars a lot of time to think and reflect and the conclusions he arrived at were nothing less than terrifying. The only reason they had survived their encounters with the Irkallu thus far was because of Kaja, even Anya and the Ordo Draconis must have realized this. Why else would Dimitri be in their foyer, asking a group of strangers¡ªcivilians lacking in any extraordinary quality except for one¡ªto accompany him on important Imperial business into hostile, foreign lands?

    And that truth belied another, more sinister one: without the help of the zmaj, the Ordo were fighting a war they could not win. He wasn¡¯t naive enough to think the Ordo was telling them everything so if the situation seemed this bad from the outside, the truth had to be much, much worse. More than his own selfish reasons for wanting to find Kaja¡¯s people, Sakrattars recognized that bringing the zmaj into the fight was important, if not vital, to the continued survival of his homeland.

    Jo wouldn¡¯t understand. Her interest in the shadow war between the Ordo Draconis and the Irkallu began and ended with the details that would be of benefit to Kaja, and Sakrattars couldn¡¯t see her reacting too kindly to the idea of using Kaja as a stepping stone to get to her people. He had to broach the subject from a different angle. ¡°You said you were living in the Goldenwoods when you found Kaja, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, what about it?¡±

    ¡°And that she said she came from the mountains?¡±

    Jo paused before answering. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°There are two mountain ranges that surround the Goldenwoods: the central Calthian range to the northwest and the Grayspurs to the northeast. Forgeheart sits at the foot of the Grayspurs. If we go, we might be able to track down some more information or perhaps Kaja could lead us¡ª¡±

    ¡°Kaja¡¯s terrified of that place. She won¡¯t lead us anywhere. Believe me, I¡¯ve already tried.¡± Jo turned away. ¡°Whatever happened to her home, whatever she saw. . . she¡¯s not ready to face it.¡±

    ¡°We may not have a choice!¡± Sakrattars said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the bite of frustration from his voice. ¡°You said that Kaja didn¡¯t know if anyone else escaped the attack. There could be other survivors. If we could just find where her village¡ª¡±

    ¡°She won¡¯t guide us there and, without her, we have no idea where it is. We¡¯d just be stumbling around the mountains.¡±

    ¡°Alright, it doesn¡¯t have to be her village. There must be other zmaj living in the mountains too, don¡¯t you think? And at least this way we¡¯ll have an Imperial escort to help protect us. To protect Kaja.¡± When Jo didn¡¯t respond, Sakrattars pressed forward, more gently this time. ¡°It¡¯s not fair to her if we¡¯re not doing everything we possibly can to help her.¡±

    With a grunt, Jo threw open the door and stepped back into the common room. Sakrattars shook his head, uncertain if his words got through or not, and followed her out.

    In the brief time they had been absent, the entire atmosphere of the room had shifted. Amale had moved to lean against the wall, ears pinned and arms crossed. Kaja was still sitting at the table, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Leif and Dimitri as they exchanged a heated conversation.

    ¡°I come here in friendship and you spurn me,¡± Dimitri was saying with feigned injury.

    ¡°I don¡¯t trust Volgarians.¡±

    ¡°Good, me neither,¡± he laughed. ¡°You know, I always found Stjornugaard to be a wonderful country. Beautiful rolling hills, belly-warming meals, and the most interesting language.¡± Seamlessly, Dimitri switched to speaking Stjornugaardian. ¡°Difficult to get the pronunciation down at first but it¡¯s so unlike any other language on Calthia.¡± Leif¡¯s jaw dropped open. Stjornugaardian was notoriously hard for outsiders to pick up, but Dimitri spoke it as if he were born there. ¡°Ah, but you¡¯re probably used to speaking like this, right?¡± As Dimitri shifted to the dialect of his home, the isle of Stielheim, Leif felt an unexpected pang of nostalgia. It had been many years since he had heard anyone speak his native tongue and now here he was hearing it from the lips of a Volgarian.

    ¡°Impressive,¡± Leif muttered.

    ¡°Your handle on Imperial Common is quite impressive too. It¡¯s my understanding that most Stjornugaardians don¡¯t bother learning it. Were you a trader? Or perhaps¡ª¡±

    ¡°I came to Aurelia a long time ago. Of course I know how to speak it by now.¡±

    The corner of Dimitri¡¯s lip curled up in a knowing smile. ¡°You know, one can tell a lot from someone¡¯s dialect if one knows what to look for. But if you don¡¯t want to discuss it, I¡¯ll respect that.¡±

    Leif groaned, then turned to Jo and Sakrattars. ¡°Please tell me that he¡¯s leaving. He¡¯s driving me nuts.¡±

    ¡°Get used to it,¡± Jo replied grimly. Dimitri perked up, as did Sakrattars and Amale. Kaja beamed, her eyes lighting up.

    Leif¡¯s face fell. ¡°You don¡¯t mean. . .¡±

    ¡°Yep. We¡¯re going with him.¡±

    *

    *

    That night, Jo reached under her pillow and pulled out a neatly folded piece of parchment. She sat down on the side of her bed and opened it up, letting her eyes linger on the words contained within. Ever since she received it several days ago, the information had haunted her, pried apart her muscles and sinew and wormed itself deep into her gut. She took a breath and reread it one more time by the light of the moon and stars.

    Jo,

    While rooting out Irkallu encampments in the unsettled wilderness of northern Aurelia, our agents reported something unusual. One of the scouting teams discovered the ruins of a village in the central mountains. It was not on any map and the architecture was unlike anything they had seen before. They also found the remains of its people¡ªof zmaj. They estimated they had been dead for around a year. I know you found Kaja alone in the Goldenwoods, that she said her village had been attacked last winter. It is probable that this village was hers.

    The likelihood of other survivors seems slim. I don¡¯t know their culture, but no one came back to tend to the dead or to retrieve belongings. My team buried the bodies and said a prayer for them to Aia. It was the best we could do. I have included with this letter a map of where they were when they discovered the village.

    You are the closest thing Kaja has to family so I leave the choice of when and how to disclose this information up to you.

    Sincerely,

    Linnea

    Jo closed her eyes. She hadn¡¯t said anything to Kaja about the letter, hadn¡¯t said anything to anyone about it. She slipped a hand into her pocket and felt the wooden cat effigy her sister had carved. Jo knew how hard it was to lose everything. She wanted to spare Kaja that pain, to let her pick up the pieces of what was left of her childhood and arrive at a place where she felt ready to deal with her past organically.

    Maybe, deep down, Kaja already knew what happened. But she had also been coming out of her shell bit by bit the past few weeks. She smiled more, she had more confidence, and overall seemed more happy than any other time Jo had known her. Jo wanted to protect this new, fragile state of being for as long as possible, hoping that it would harden into something more permanent that could withstand the cruelty of reality. That meant not tearing open a freshly scabbed wound.

    Though she wouldn¡¯t admit it outloud, Jo credited Grandmistress Anya¡¯s relationship with Kaja with helping her to get this far. If they could find others of her own people, surely they¡¯d be able to support Kaja in all the right ways and make processing what happened to her more bearable. She wouldn¡¯t be the lone zmaj in a vast world anymore, and she wouldn¡¯t need to feel the burden of having to fight an enemy only her people could hope to face.

    Jo took one last, long look at the map. If she could gently guide everyone away from the ruin site, she¡¯d be able to both shield Kaja and put forth the effort to locate more of the villages. Jo folded the letter and map back up and tucked it deep into her travel pack.

    What Kaja needed right now was hope.

    Then one day, when she was ready, she could face the truth.

 Session 10 - An Oath of Friendship

    ¡°Kaja!¡±

    Kaja stepped back, bracing herself, as Saara rushed towards her with open arms. Within moments, both girls were in a heap on the ground. It had been over two months since the companions had last seen Saara and, while the pure, childhood joy she had in the memory crystals was gone, she had still come a long way from the traumatized girl they pulled from the burning ruins of her home. She had put on weight and her voluminous curls were newly styled into two puffs behind her slightly pointed ears.

    Jo¡¯s gaze softened as Kaja and Saara shared excited whispers with one another. Dimitri kept them moving northward through Aurelia at a brisk pace so it had surprised Jo when he agreed to stop in Barsicum. When Kaja asked if she could see Saara, Jo had expected Dimitri to refuse, citing time constraints, or at the very least hesitate and think it over. But Dimitri immediately acquiesced without any resistance or follow up questions, stating simply that Saara was a ward of the Ordo Draconis and that Grandmistress Anya would be pleased to hear that they checked in on her.

    ¡°Saara wants to show me the market,¡± Kaja said. ¡°Can we go?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Kaja.¡± Jo shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t think we have time for that.¡± The girls¡¯ faces fell in unison.

    ¡°Don¡¯t hurry off on my account,¡± Dimitri inserted. ¡°I was just about to attend to some urgent business.¡±

    ¡°Urgent business?¡±

    ¡°Yes, what do you say we all meet back here tonight?¡±

    Jo regarded him with suspicion. This ¡°urgent business¡±, whatever it was, must have been the true reason he agreed to stop in Barsicum so readily. ¡°If you insist,¡± she said.

    ¡°I do insist.¡± Dimitri flashed a rakish smile, then headed back down the road towards the inner city. Jo rolled her eyes.

    ¡°Good riddance,¡± Leif mumbled.

    ¡°So we can go to the market?¡± Kaja asked hopefully.

    Jo paused. She didn¡¯t like the idea of Kaja going out by herself¡ªnot when Irkallu operatives could be anywhere looking for her. Even something as simple as her cloak snagging on a fence post could expose her horns and have disastrous consequences. ¡°Why don¡¯t I go with you?¡± she suggested.

    ¡°Oh, let the girls have some fun,¡± Leif interjected, giving Jo¡¯s arm a good-natured bump. ¡°And in the meantime, we can have some grown-up fun.¡± He mimed drinking a phantom beverage. ¡°Maybe even get Amale and that sour elf in on it too.¡±

    ¡°I can hear you, I¡¯m right here,¡± Sakrattars grumbled.

    Jo¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°No, it could be dangerous.¡±

    Leif tugged her down, standing on his tiptoes so he could whisper into her ear. ¡°Any more dangerous than what they¡¯ve already been through? Come on, let them be normal children for just one day.¡±

    Memories of everything that had happened in the past few months flooded Jo¡¯s mind. It was a miracle either of them could smile at all after the suffering they had endured.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Jo said with a sigh. ¡°You can go. But we meet back here at sundown. Do you hear me?¡±

    It was unclear whether they had heard her or not, as the pair had already taken off excitedly. Saara ushered Kaja into the house, loudly brainstorming ideas on what they should wear. The corner of Jo¡¯s lips turned up despite her reservations.

    ¡°They¡¯ll be okay,¡± Leif said reassuringly. ¡°They¡¯re good kids.¡±

    Jo folded her arms, fighting the growing urge to change her mind and call Kaja back. ¡°It¡¯s not them I¡¯m worried about,¡± she said.

    *

    *

    Saara rummaged through a cedar chest, pulling clothes out for careful inspection and then discarding them unceremoniously onto the floor. The room was already a disaster of metal scrap, opened books, scattered notes, and even the leftovers of an earlier meal (brown stew by the looks of the remnants hardened onto the ceramic bowl). With the clothes piling up, Kaja found it more and more difficult to find a safe place to stand. Saara pulled out a short-sleeved linen tunic, dyed a pale green and cinched at the waist with a brown sash embroidered with delicate golden accents. She held it up to Kaja, tilted her head, then wrinkled her nose and tossed it away.

    As if sensing Kaja¡¯s question before she could ask it, Saara explained, ¡°if we¡¯re going into the town square, we have to look our best. That¡¯s what my grandma says, at least. You¡¯re pretty small though.¡± She paused, considering a bolt of pale blue cloth. ¡°Maybe you can just swap out that cloak for a nice accessory.¡± There wasn¡¯t any judgment in Saara¡¯s voice, but calling the worm-eaten square of wool that Kaja wore a ¡®cloak¡¯ was a generous statement. Kaja tugged the edge of the hood down her forehead and shifted her weight. Jo had told her to conceal her identity from everyone except for the people they were working with at the Ordo Draconis. The risk of the Irkallu being able to find her by following rumors of a horned girl with snow white hair was too great.

    ¡°I like the cloak,¡± Kaja said. It wasn¡¯t exactly a lie. It was the blanket that Jo had wrapped her in after finding her half-dead in the woods¡ªa reminder of the kindness and love she was shown by a complete stranger after the horror of wandering the wilderness alone, wondering why she was the one who lived and how long it would be until she too was gone. Kaja peeked at Saara from under the rim of her hood. That terrible memory of being scared, of being hunted, of surviving was one that was familiar to both of them. Perhaps, even though Kaja had never told Saara her story, Saara could sense that they were the same somehow. Maybe, if it was Saara, it would be okay.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Saara conceded, ¡°if you really want to. What if I tied your hair in some ribbon? I think that would look really good on you. My grandma showed me how to make pretty bows the other day.¡± Seeing the conflicted look on Kaja¡¯s face, Saara retracted the offer. ¡°It¡¯s okay, you don¡¯t have to,¡± she said quickly. ¡°Just wait for me while I change.¡± As she turned away, she felt a gentle hand close around her wrist.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t want to,¡± Kaja said. Faded memories from another life wafted through her mind, of hands splitting her hair into long braids, of girlish giggles and loud gossip. The girl in her memory smiled brightly and called Kaja¡¯s name in a familiar, comforting voice that Kaja had thought she¡¯d forgotten. She bit her lip, bit back the memories until they vanished back into the shadows of her thoughts. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said.

    ¡°What are you sorry for?¡± Saara said with a small, light-hearted laugh. ¡°If anything, I should be sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that,¡± Kaja said. She swallowed, her eyes on the floor between them. She wanted a friend her age so badly, a friend she could share everything with and be herself around. But would she get into trouble? Worse¡ªwould she be putting Saara into danger? ¡°Can you keep a secret?¡± she asked softly.

    Saara blinked, her dark brown eyes darting this way and that as a myriad of possibilities shot rapidly through her mind. ¡°Yes,¡± she replied earnestly, her back straightening. She could tell that whatever it was was very important to Kaja and she wanted to be fully present for her.

    ¡°You can¡¯t tell anyone.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±

    Kaja took a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m not human.¡±

    Saara waited for an elaboration but Kaja wasn¡¯t forthcoming with one. ¡°Is that it?¡± she said, relieved that it wasn¡¯t anything so serious as Kaja was making it out to be. ¡°Neither am I, you know that.¡± Her eyes went wide with delight. ¡°Oh wait, are you half-elf too?¡±

    Kaja shook her head, bunching her dress up in her hands as she worked through the last of her hesitations. Holding her eyes tightly closed, she grabbed the edges of her hood and pulled it down slowly, revealing her horns. She could hear Saara gasp. Would she think she was a monster? Was this the wrong choice after all?

    But when Saara spoke, it was still in the tender voice of her friend. ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked in wonder. Kaja reopened her eyes to see Saara examining her horns in a mixture of surprise and curiosity. There wasn¡¯t a single hint of fear in her expression.

    ¡°I¡¯m a zmaj,¡± Kaja said timidly.

    ¡°Zmaj,¡± Saara repeated the foreign word. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯ve never heard of your people before.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t usually live among. . . outsiders.¡±

    ¡°Where are you from? Why did you come to the Empire?¡± When she saw Kaja¡¯s face, Saara immediately regretted asking. She understood what it was like, having a part of yourself that was too painful to revisit. She herself hadn¡¯t spoken a single word about her weeks alone in the mountain estate¡ªof her parents, of their deaths, of burying them, of living in fear of the demon who slew them coming back to finish the job. Sometimes she remembered. A scene of cleaning her father¡¯s blood from the carpet would flash into her mind unbidden, shooting like lightning down her spine and paralyzing her lungs. But she never talked about it, as if speaking it would bring it back into reality instead of locked behind the doors of time. Although her grandparents showed her compassion they never asked about those moments, for which Saara was grateful.

    ¡°I can¡¯t show people who I am,¡± Kaja said, pulling her hood back up over her head. ¡°So you have to keep it a secret, okay?¡±

    Saara watched the twisted horns disappear beneath the fabric of Kaja¡¯s cloak. The memory of their first meeting came to mind, how Kaja had breathed frost across the burning staircase. It was almost like a¡ª

    ¡°Are you a dragon?¡±

    Kaja opened her mouth, ready to answer ¡®no¡¯, but the word caught in her throat and her brow furrowed. Saara could see now that Kaja¡¯s pupils were oddly shaped, like slits instead of circles, and her features were elongated in an elegant, almost serpentine way, and not the lanky way young adolescents like them usually were. Saara wondered how she hadn¡¯t noticed these things before.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Kaja finally said.

    Saara couldn¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°What kind of answer is that?¡± she exclaimed, giving Kaja a playful nudge.

    Kaja didn¡¯t understand what was so funny. ¡°Sometimes I am, sometimes I¡¯m not.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s even weirder!¡±

    ¡°Is it?¡± Kaja hesitated a moment then asked quietly, ¡°so you¡¯re not afraid of me?¡±

    Saara laughed again and shook her head. ¡°Of course not. I knew you were special, Kaja. I could feel it.¡± She threw her arms over Kaja¡¯s shoulders and wrapped a pale blue scarf around her neck, tying it off into a fashionable bow. ¡°There, I put it on over your cloak so no worries, yeah?¡± Then she grabbed the outfit she had picked out for herself and turned back to Kaja with a grin. ¡°Wait for me?¡±

    Running her finger tips over the delicate scarf reverently, Kaja nodded and Saara disappeared behind the partition. A few moments later, she emerged wearing a yellow and pink belted tunic with an orange shawl draped across her shoulders.

    ¡°You look cute,¡± Kaja said with a smile.

    Saara tensed, then turned away quickly and pretended to fuss with some fabric she had discarded earlier. ¡°Well, uh, we should go then,¡± she said, trying to ignore the warmth on her cheeks.

    Downstairs, they spotted Sakrattars reclining back in an armchair by the hearth with a book in hand. Apparently the others had failed in cajoling him to join their ¡°adult fun¡± day.

    ¡°Can we have some copper for the market, gram gram?¡± Saara asked.

    Sakrattars, closing the book around a finger to mark his place, pulled Kaja aside as Saara retrieved the coin from her grandmother. ¡°Remember that you have to pay for things with money. You can¡¯t just take whatever you want,¡± he whispered.

    Kaja nodded obediently.

    ¡°Do you really understand?¡±

    ¡°Come on, Kaja! Let¡¯s go!¡± Saara called from halfway out the door. Kaja chased after her, leaving Sakrattars¡¯ question unanswered.

    ¡°You get in trouble and Jo¡¯s going to find some way to blame it on me!¡± he cried as the door slammed.

    ¡°Children at that age have a hard time listening,¡± Saara¡¯s grandmother said wistfully in elvish. She placed a mug of tea on the table for Sakrattars and stepped back. ¡°I¡¯m sure you can remember what it was like.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t like that,¡± Sakrattars said dryly.

    The old elf laughed. ¡°Your mother might say differently.¡±

    Sakrattars didn¡¯t want to be rude but he reflected privately that his mother barely acknowledged his existence and probably had no idea what he was like as a child. Being one of five, and the fourth of four sons in a prominent family, had that effect. Rather than say as much, he sipped the tea. The taste of floral lavender and earthy chamomile coated his tongue. ¡°It¡¯s good, thank you,¡± he said simply, then he went back to his book.

    Outside, the girls had barely taken three steps when a shrill voice caught their attention.

    ¡°Saara!¡±

    Kaja looked up to a young human boy with sunkissed skin and messy, dark blond hair hanging halfway out the window of a neighboring home.

    ¡°Where are you going? Can I come too?¡± Without waiting for a response, he disappeared, only to reappear outside moments later, a bright smile spanning his face.

    ¡°Osric. . .¡± Saara put her hands on her hips. ¡°This is a girl¡¯s day, you can¡¯t come.¡±

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    ¡°What makes it a girl¡¯s day?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re both girls, that¡¯s what, and you¡¯re not.¡±

    Osric glanced between Saara and Kaja. He blinked a couple times, then his eyes got wide. ¡°Is this Kaja?¡± he cried out excitedly.

    ¡°Shh!¡± Saara hushed, looking around nervously.

    ¡°Kaja! Kaja! I¡¯m Osric, Saara¡¯s friend¡±¡ªSaara rolled her eyes but Osric didn¡¯t seem to notice or care¡ª¡°She told me so much about you! Can you really use magic¡ª¡±

    ¡°Osric!¡± Saara quickly clapped one hand over the boy¡¯s mouth and clamped the other around his arm. She dragged him into a nearby alleyway, out of sight of the pedestrians on the main road who had begun to stare. Kaja dutifully followed.

    Osric slapped away Saara¡¯s hands, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout. ¡°What was that for?¡± he complained.

    ¡°It¡¯s a se-cret,¡± Saara emphasized, ¡°you can¡¯t just blabber that out in front of everyone.¡±

    ¡°Oh, sorry,¡± he lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned in close. ¡°So can you use magic?¡± Saara groaned.

    Kaja wasn¡¯t supposed to use magic in front of people unless absolutely necessary¡ªit was just another way she could potentially attract the wrong type of attention. But surely just a verbal confirmation couldn¡¯t do any harm, right? ¡°Yes,¡± she said.

    ¡°Wow! That¡¯s so cool!¡± Osric exclaimed, then remembered that it was supposed to be a secret and got quiet again. ¡°Can you freeze something? Here,¡±¡ªhe searched around the piles of scattered litter in the alley and picked up a half-eaten peach¡ª¡°can you freeze this? Pleeease?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m really not supposed to,¡± she replied reluctantly.

    ¡°Aww,¡± Osric whined.

    Saara slapped the peach out of his hand. ¡°Stop bothering her,¡± she scolded, ¡°or I¡¯ll tell your mom.¡± The threat seemed to work. Osric became quiet and sullen, trudging behind the girls as they made their way to the marketplace. ¡°And stop following us!¡± Saara cried back. But if he was going to be denied the sight of Kaja¡¯s magic, he was not going to be left out of girl¡¯s day. Eventually Saara accepted that she could either spend the rest of the afternoon trying to get him to go away or just let him tag along.

    At the market, coaxed by the smell of grilled onions and spiced apples, Osric¡¯s bubbly enthusiasm rapidly returned, all thoughts of magic forgotten. Barsicum was transitioning into the harvest season and food stands burst with fresh ingredients. Kaja marveled as women bought up braids of garlic, bundles of dried mountain flowers, and baskets of potatoes for their winter cellars, and men busied themselves carrying crate after crate of grapes to the town center. The grapes would be crushed up for winemaking during the festival of Nargosia¡ªthe holiday at the end of the harvest season honoring Nargo, the Imperial god of farming and labor. Nearby stands hawked bottles of wine, made from the grapes of last year¡¯s celebration, to eager crowds looking to purchase some merriment. It was customary to buy a bottle for oneself and a bottle for Nargo, to be poured upon tilled earth as a thank you for a successful growing season.

    The children bought candied citrus peels, juicy apricots, and hot spiced cider with the money Saara¡¯s grandmother had given her, and settled down to enjoy their haul. Kaja held the tin of cider politely, hoping it would cool down to a drinkable temperature. As she waited, she swung her legs contentedly over the pony wall and watched Saara and Osric argue over the last grapefruit rind.

    Then she felt it.

    Eyes.

    On them.

    On her.

    Kaja whipped her head around and scanned the crowds: a mother holding an infant in one arm and a sack of purchases in the other, groups of children running through the streets waving sticks like swords, the deep baritone of the wine seller peddling his wares. Nothing out of the ordinary.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Saara asked uneasily.

    Kaja turned back to her friends. ¡°Nothing,¡± she mumbled. ¡°It was nothing.¡±

    Osric seized the opportunity to steal the contested grapefruit peel and shove it into his mouth.

    Saara didn¡¯t notice.

    *

    *

    ¡°He¡¯s gonna drown, I¡¯m sure of it,¡± Saara said, looking doubtfully at the water basin where Osric¡¯s head had been submerged for the last minute or so. Kaja watched silently, but kept a keen eye out for bubbles. Once those bubbles stopped, she resolved to yank him out of there.

    With a great splash Osric lifted his head, soaking blond hair smeared over his face. Nothing diminished his big grin though, not even the apple he held clenched in his teeth.

    He said something that sounded vaguely like ¡°got it!¡± and spat the apple out into Kaja¡¯s waiting hands.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said softly, ¡°that was ¡®cool¡¯.¡± Osric¡¯s ears turned light pink as he basked in his glory. Untouched, the attendant hurried them out of the way¡ªthere was a big line behind them and they had already taken up more than enough of her time.

    ¡°You dummy, you got water on me,¡± Saara said, gesturing to the dark spots on her dress. Just then, another appeared. And another. They looked up at the sky.

    ¡°It¡¯s starting to rain,¡± Osric cried. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±

    The children turned down a winding alley, taking shelter under the tarps of colorful cloth strung up between the buildings. Washerwomen were hurriedly shoving laundry into baskets before the rain could undo all the work of the drying lines.

    ¡°Follow me! I know the way back home from here,¡± Osric boasted, still riding high from his apple-bobbing exploits, as he charged ahead. Kaja wavered for the briefest of moments, an unexplainable apprehension forming in her gut as she stared down the darkening alley. However, Saara and Osric were almost out of sight so she shoved down her apprehension and pursued them.

    ¡°I was hoping we could stay out longer,¡± Saara complained between breaths. ¡°Stupid rain ruins everything, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    Kaja opened her mouth but her reply was cut short by an arm shooting out of the shadows of a deserted backroad. Reverting to pure instinct, Kaja jumped out of reach just in time and collided with a pile of wooden crates. A young elf, small and slender, lunged towards her, pinning her to a crate before she could recover. Her apple, only one bite taken from it, fell from her hand and splashed into the mud.

    ¡°Kaja!¡± Saara screamed.

    Kaja snarled and twisted to no avail, the elf¡¯s fingers wrapped tightly around her throat. Getting more and more desperate for air, she clawed the assailant¡¯s arms but they were protected by hard leather armor. Sakrattars¡¯ voice echoed in her mind, a remnant from a conversation they had long ago.

    And if you get into trouble. . .

    Kaja opened her eyes, a fierce defiance alight on her face, and the elf loosened her grip for just a moment. That second of doubt was all Kaja needed. She channeled her arcane power into her hands and swiped at the elf¡¯s exposed neck. A burst of frost rimed over on the elf¡¯s breast plate as she dodged the blow.

    The elf, shock and confusion plain on her angular features, reached for the sword on her hip but Kaja grabbed her wrist, encasing her sword hand in hoarfrost. Crying out in pain, she caught Kaja by the scarf with her remaining good hand and slammed her down onto the street. Kaja gasped as the wind knocked out of her and the elf pressed a sharp knee into her chest. Kaja struggled, squirming on the ground, her feet slipping in mud and rain water and who knew what else. She heard the now-muddy scarf ripping in the elf¡¯s hands, and felt a pang of guilt and regret amid her fear.

    ¡°Let her go!¡± Saara cried, rushing forcefully into the elf.

    She repelled Saara¡¯s attack easily but the motion forced her knee off Kaja¡¯s sternum, allowing Kaja to take a choking breath. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Kaja slid up, folded her legs under the elf, and kicked with all her might. Catching the blow in her stomach, the elf was launched back into the wall and crumpled on the road.

    Just then, heavy footsteps sounded on the cobblestones behind them. ¡°Azriel!¡± It was a man¡¯s voice, rough and husky.

    With a flutter of her cloak, Kaja leapt back and raised her hands, a frigid crackle of arcane energy swirling around her. But just as she was about to strike at this new threat, she froze.

    ¡°That¡¯s right, don¡¯t you dare,¡± the man said, his arm tightening around Osric¡¯s neck. Osric whimpered as a knife¡¯s point nicked the bottom of his jaw and a tiny speck of blood bubbled to the surface. ¡°No magic or this one dies.¡±

    Kaja stared silently at the man and, for a few heart-stopping moments, Saara was afraid that she might not back down. But then the magic dissipated and the air in the alley quickly warmed. Saara¡¯s skin went clammy, the seasonal humidity of Aurelia¡¯s rainy season weighing on her hair and lungs. It was as if the very fabric of reality was closing in, threatening to suffocate her.

    Behind them, the elf called Azriel rose to her feet, head in hand.

    ¡°So the girl didn¡¯t manage to kill you,¡± the man said blandly.

    ¡°Takes more than that, Bishram,¡± Azriel said, an edge in her voice. ¡°No one told us she could do that. Benjamin ought to pay us double.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s going to give me triple,¡± the man, Bishram, scowled. ¡°You¡¯re all going to come with us,¡± he continued, gesturing with his chin at Kaja and Saara. When neither of them moved, he grunted in anger. ¡°Now!¡± he snarled.

    Frantically trying to think of a way out of the situation that didn¡¯t involve Osric ending up dead, Saara turned toward Kaja and her thoughts immediately scattered. There had been a nearly imperceptible shift in Kaja¡¯s demeanor. Indeed, it didn¡¯t seem that Bishram, Azriel, or Osric had even noticed it. But Saara saw it. Her mind raced back to the conversation they had had earlier that day.

    You¡¯re not afraid of me?

    Saara thought it was an absolutely absurd thing to ask. How could she ever be afraid of Kaja? Timid, gentle Kaja who had risked her life to save Saara¡¯s own without even knowing who she was. But now, enveloped in the dimming light, Saara knew the real reason Kaja had asked that question. There was only one way to describe the sharpened glint in Kaja¡¯s cat-like eyes¡ª

    Dangerous.

    Bishram sucked in a sharp breath, preparing to admonish the girls, when suddenly a large shadow loomed behind him. The shadow struck and Bishram crumpled to the ground. Osric squeaked in surprise and rushed away to Saara¡¯s and Kaja¡¯s sides before he dared to look back to see what had freed him.

    ¡°What the¡ª!¡± Still dazed and in pain from her fight with Kaja, Azriel reached clumsily for her sword but her frostbitten fingers wouldn¡¯t close around the hilt. Identifying the chance presented to them, Kaja pressed her palm flat on Azriel¡¯s chest and let loose a burst of icy magic. Azriel sailed back into the stack of crates, sending garbage flying all over the alley, then lay still.

    Spinning back to face the newcomer, Kaja studied the tall, muscular silhouette. For a brief moment she thought that maybe Jo had followed them and felt a rush of relief, but when the figure emerged from the shadows, her blood ran cold.

    An orc stepped out into view, studying the children with hard, yellow eyes. A spark of fearful recognition flashed across Kaja¡¯s face, fueled by a memory from outside Castrum Ustarius all those weeks ago¡ªa memory of an orc who had left with a band of hired mercenaries with the express purpose of tracking Kaja down. . .

    ¡°Irkallu,¡± Kaja whispered, her eyes narrowing. She stood protectively between the orc and Saara and Osric, who were now clinging to each other for comfort.

    ¡°My, if looks could kill,¡± the orc said, her tone amused but her expression joyless. ¡°Go on now, get out of here.¡±

    Kaja blinked, unsure if it was some kind of trap or if she was reading the situation incorrectly. Saara and Osric didn¡¯t move, clearly waiting for a signal from Kaja.

    ¡°I said go!¡± The orc lurched forward, kicking up mud like she was trying to scare off a stray dog. Kaja flinched and took a step back, her arm still outstretched to shield her friends.

    ¡°Kaja,¡± Osric whined softly, ¡°let¡¯s just go.¡± Kaja nodded.

    The children crept around the orc, pressed against the wall to get as far away from her as possible. Kaja kept herself between the groups as they moved, but the orc didn¡¯t try to stop them. Instead, she knelt down beside Bishram and flipped him over.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to be here when he wakes up, do you?¡± the orc asked gruffly.

    After one last suspicious look, Kaja turned and followed the others down the alley. The children ran home in silence, each half expecting a new threat to launch itself at them from the dark. Though nothing did, that didn¡¯t prevent them from flinching at every noise and avoiding every stranger in their path until they were in more familiar neighborhoods once more.

    ¡°Stop,¡± Kaja said suddenly once her friends¡¯ homes were in sight. Osric jumped, as if something else were about to grab him. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said solemnly.

    ¡°For what?¡± Saara asked.

    ¡°That this happened to you.¡±

    Saara and Osric exchanged glances.

    ¡°What do you mean? You saved us,¡± Osric said. ¡°You were so cool! And I got to see you use magic!¡±

    Kaja shook her head. ¡°They were after me and you almost got hurt.¡±

    ¡°But I wasn¡¯t.¡± Osric grinned, showing a gap in his teeth where a baby tooth had recently fallen out.

    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault, Kaja,¡± Saara said soothingly.

    Kaja reached up and pulled the scarf from around her neck. She offered the torn, dirty thing back. ¡°I ruined it,¡± she said, tears pooling in her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Saara sighed and pushed Kaja¡¯s hand that held the scarf away. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. We¡¯re all okay. You¡¯re okay. I was worried about you.¡± Now her eyes felt watery too. ¡°We¡¯re your friends, Kaja,¡± she said. Osric nodded and it took all Kaja had to keep herself from crying.

    ¡°Here, let¡¯s all take the Oath right now,¡± Saara said. She placed her hand in front of her, two fingers outstretched. Osric put two of his fingers in so that the tips of their pointers were touching. Kaja paused as the other two looked expectantly at her. Not knowing what else to do, she mimicked them, her two fingers completing the three-pointed star.

    ¡°The three of us vow upon this star that we¡¯ll always be friends,¡± Saara and Osric said in unison, chanting the hallowed words that had been passed down child to child for generations. ¡°That friends protect each other, that friends keep each other¡¯s secrets, that friends can rely on each other no matter what.¡±

    ¡°Even if a scarf gets ruined,¡± Osric added. Kaja smiled, her small laugh tinged with sadness.

    ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± Saara said impatiently. ¡°So I, Saara¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡ªI, Osric¡ª¡± He elbowed Kaja playfully, urging her on.

    ¡°¡ªand I, Kaja,¡± she said at last.

    ¡°¡ªtake this oath of friendship!¡± Saara and Osric finished as Kaja scrambled to echo their words. Osric giggled and dashed off.

    ¡°Girl¡¯s day is fun!¡± he laughed, spinning under the rainfall. ¡°A little scary, but mostly fun!¡±

    ¡°Come on.¡± Saara offered her hand and Kaja took it shyly. Following their rambunctious friend, the pair walked home together.

    *

    *

    It was almost completely dark and the rain had stopped when Dimitri returned to Saara¡¯s home and found the rest of the companions in the garden. Sakrattars was unsuccessfully coaxing Bartholomew to perform some sort of trick and trying to ignore Leif¡¯s acid commentary. Amale sat nearby, peacefully enjoying the flowers and scanning the early stars. Jo stood off to the side, her arms crossed, and watched as Kaja, Saara, and Osric chased glow beetles and ember moths through the garden beds. Dimitri joined her.

    ¡°The urgent Ordo business ran late, huh?¡± Jo said without looking down.

    ¡°Well I was just getting to the good part,¡± Dimitri replied, pulling a small book from inside his jacket.

    Jo did a double take, then shook her head. ¡°You mean to tell me you disappeared for the whole day to read?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± he said, not offering another word of explanation.

    Their gazes settled on the children. Osric roared then flung himself into a mess of grasses, kicking up a cloud of glow beetles. Saara and Kaja laughed in delight, running around and gently scooping at the air to catch the beetles in their hands.

    Jo grinned slightly, her amber eyes taking on a glint of mischief. ¡°You think perhaps there¡¯s another piece of ¡®urgent business¡¯ you should handle tomorrow?¡±

    Dimitri smiled back. ¡°Hmm. . .¡± He rubbed his stubble as he deliberated. ¡°As a matter of fact, I think there might be.¡±

    *

    *

    Bishram held a wet cloth against the back of his head, looking glumly at the half-full mug of ale that sat before him. Azriel¡¯s hand was red and raw where the white-haired girl¡¯s magic had touched her. Only the orc was unhurt, though judging by the scowl smeared across her tusked face, she was in no better mood than the others.

    ¡°You¡¯re a traitor, Aroga,¡± Bishram said, barely glancing at her.

    ¡°A traitor to what? Benjamin¡¯s gang?¡± Aroga countered crisply. ¡°I owe him nothing. First he tosses that Astinos kid down a hole to die, and now they have us trying to capture children?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the job. You knew that when you signed up,¡± Bishram said.

    ¡°And you seem to be enjoying it, you sick bastard.¡±

    Bishram broke his scowl long enough for a sadistic sneer, before sipping his ale, hoping the liquor would dull the throbbing pain in his head. ¡°You¡¯re getting in the way of my pay day. If I wasn¡¯t in such a sorry state, I¡¯d kill you myself.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like to see you try.¡±

    Azriel stayed silent as her companions bickered. Aroga glanced at her and was met with a conflicted expression.

    ¡°Well,¡± Aroga said, as if she and Azriel had already exchanged opinions on the matter, ¡°I¡¯m out.¡± By her tone, she didn¡¯t just mean she was leaving the tavern.

    ¡°You can¡¯t just leave,¡± Bishram warned. ¡°Those fanatical weirdos won¡¯t allow it.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care what they will or won¡¯t allow,¡± Aroga said, heading to the door.

    ¡°And what if the Irkallu come for you?¡± Azriel asked softly, making Aroga stop in her tracks.

    ¡°Let them come,¡± she said, without turning around. Rain pelted her the moment she yanked open the door. She stared up at the storm clouds, noting the breaks on the horizon. ¡°Let her come. . .¡± she murmured.

 Session 11 - Scorched Earth

    Sakrattars stared out over the ramparts of Castrum Solis, his gaze scanning the endless plains beyond. After several days of uneventful travel, the companions had reached Datharia. Sakrattars recalled watching placidly as the familiar rolling hills and scattered temperate forests of Aurelia slowly shifted into something more flat and desolate. It was the furthest north he had ever been and he couldn¡¯t exactly say he was impressed. Where Aurelia and Taracosia teemed with densely populated cities connected by a matrix of paved roads, Datharia was barren and eerily quiet, the monotone landscape broken up only by the occasional military outpost or remote farmstead.

    A strong wind rushed past Sakrattars and he quickly wrapped his robes closer to stave off the early autumn chill. Without trees or buildings to block the wind¡¯s path, it was free to tear through the plains unchallenged, biting through clothing and ripping pages from spellbooks. Sakrattars¡¯ eyes settled on the distant mountain range, a smattering of dark gray mounds on the horizon. Their destination¡ªthe ferix fortress, Forgeheart¡ªwas said to lie at the foot of those mountains. It was going to be a long, blustery journey, one that Sakrattars was beginning to regret. He closed his eyes and, as he had done several times since meeting Jo and Kaja, dreamed of the respect and admiration he¡¯d receive for his studies on the zmaj. It would make it all worth it.

    ¡°My men are ready,¡± Dimitri called, jogging up the steps to the rampart. ¡°Let¡¯s head out.¡± The companions followed him to the garrison to collect his team, then to the northern gate. It took two soldiers to operate the crank that raised the heavy iron portcullis. Sakrattars waited as the chains creaked and groaned, feeling more nervous than he had expected. Once they left Castrum Solis, they would be beyond the borders of the Aurean Empire and out of Imperial protection. They would be on their own.

    As they passed through the gate, Dimitri took the time to thank the guards and wish them well. He even cracked a joke about not returning, something Sakrattars did not find humorous in the slightest, but that made the soldiers chuckle and respond with their own quips in kind.

    Dimitri had put together a team of nine men for their journey into Snowskull Steppes. Three of them rode ahead to scout the roads, two lagged behind to watch the rear, and four tended to the spare horses and supply wagon. Their captain was a middle-aged man named Lucius Tullius. His head was shaved to stubble, but he sported a brown beard streaked with gray, and his gear showed wear and tear from a long career with little time spent worrying about pomp and formality. The men under his command were ordinary legionnaires, dressed in the regular Imperial uniform rather than the navy blue of the Ordo Draconis. Their standard issue shields were emblazoned with the Gold Dragon. Sakrattars wondered if the soldiers even believed in dragons.

    As they plodded along, Leif spoke up. ¡°You¡¯ve been up here before, haven¡¯t you?¡± he asked Jo. ¡°I think I remember you saying you have.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Jo replied with a shrug. ¡°The Empire commissioned my Oceteya to come up sometimes.¡±

    ¡°In what capacity?¡± Leif urged good-naturedly, eager for conversation. ¡°Any battle scars with a tale? I¡¯ve been dying to know the story behind the ones along your back¡ª¡± Everyone, including Leif, immediately recognized his misstep. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean¡ª¡± he fumbled.

    The glint in Jo¡¯s eyes disappeared and her posture relaxed. ¡°Not much to tell,¡± she said, as if the transgression never happened. ¡°We came up, we cleared out the trouble-makers, we got paid, we went home.¡± She turned to Dimitri with a wry smile. Though he was mounted on horseback, their eyes were level. ¡°I remember putting down more than one ferix raiding party on Datharian ranches,¡± she said. ¡°Hope they don¡¯t remember that when you ask them to play nice with Aurea.¡±

    Dimitri laughed. ¡°If I didn¡¯t know any better, I¡¯d say that you¡¯re not very invested in the outcome of this mission.¡±

    ¡°And why are you so invested?¡± Leif scoffed. ¡°Why does a Volgarian care so much about the state of the Aurean Empire¡¯s northern border?¡±

    Dimitri didn¡¯t respond right away. The wagon wheels rumbled and their horses¡¯ hooves scraped along the dusty dirt road. ¡°It¡¯s not about Aurea,¡± he said at last, ¡°though I do not wish to see anything bad befall the Imperial people. I suppose you could say that I sympathize with those who fight against tyranny in their homeland. It¡¯s the reason I had to leave mine, afterall.¡± The contempt on Leif¡¯s face softened, but he set his jaw and didn¡¯t say anything more.

    Kaja looked at Dimitri. ¡°You can¡¯t go home?¡± she asked sadly. Each of her four companions heard the silent ¡°either¡± at the end of her question.

    He wasn¡¯t briefed on the details of Kaja¡¯s background, but Dimitri could sense the hidden emotion behind her words. ¡°No,¡± he said with a warm smile, ¡°but don¡¯t worry about me, young Kaja, though your kindness is sweet. I have many friends here and no regrets.¡±

    At midday, the party stopped by a stream to water the horses and refill their skins. They ate a light lunch of salt jerky and dried plums then stretched out for a short rest.

    ¡°Where are the scouts?¡± One legionnaire asked nervously as he rubbed down a chestnut horse. He was young, with a short patchy beard. ¡°I hope they didn¡¯t run across any orcs.¡±

    Another snorted and put more force into his whetstone. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind blooding my blade. Otherwise, this trip might get boring.¡±

    ¡°Better watch your blade,¡± warned a third as he carried in a water bucket for the horses. ¡°Remember, we¡¯re here to find orcs who aren¡¯t yet with Ironfang.¡±

    ¡°Bah! An orc¡¯s an orc, they¡¯re all the same. We let them menace the northern border for centuries and now we have the likes of Ironfang to deal with. We should have just wiped them out long ago.¡±

    The reactions of the other squad members ranged from malicious agreement to horror and disgust. The arguing grew louder and more heated as some of the soldiers advocated for founding an outpost in Snowskull to support a long campaign, regardless of the outcome of their mission at hand. Sakrattars sighed and looked up from his spellbook. He had been hoping for some peace and quiet after a long morning of riding. Nearby, Jo¡ªwho was sprawled out on the grass with her eyes closed¡ªstirred.

    ¡°You all can¡¯t be serious,¡± the young legionnaire said incredulously. ¡°I don¡¯t want to stay beyond the border any longer than I have to.¡±

    ¡°Oh ho, someone¡¯s a scared little lamb!¡±

    ¡°Lay off. Leo¡¯s just settled with his woman and doesn¡¯t have a death wish, is all.¡±

    ¡°Aye! Natiuhan! You¡¯re a warrior. Isn¡¯t it embarrassing for a soldier to fear death?¡±

    Jo opened her eyes and fixed her gaze on them. ¡°It is,¡± she said simply. The young soldier called Leo shrank under the criticism and his fellow¡¯s gloating. ¡°But so is wishing for blood,¡± she added. ¡°You only fight when you have to.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a funny thing coming from someone who made a career out of fighting.¡±

    Jo muttered something in natiuhan and sat up. She stuck a small finger in her ear and scratched lazily. ¡°You Imperials are so quick to glorify war.¡± She waved a hand towards their armor, which bore an insignia representing the goddess Aegis. ¡°Our war spirit, Haelonoch the Boar, was once noble and great, sure, but he learned to fear death. He began to lash out, striking the enemy before they could strike him. Eventually, he craved the spilling of blood. It made him feel safe, but it also made him dangerous and closed-minded and incompatible with the other spirits. His story is a warning for warriors, not an example.¡±

    ¡°So natiuhans don¡¯t follow their god of war?¡± Leo asked.

    ¡°Some do,¡± Jo said. ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Who do you follow then?¡±

    ¡°Melcuni the Leopard.¡±

    ¡°And who¡¯s that?¡±

    Jo paused, then stood and placed a hand on Leo¡¯s shoulder. He looked small, young, and eager to please. His brown eyes searched for her approval as a senior soldier. Jo smiled playfully. ¡°She¡¯s the Spirit of Death.¡±

    Leo swallowed, his face turning a little green. Jo chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder a few times. As she walked away, the legionnaires whispered to each other.

    ¡°She follows the spirit of death?¡±

    ¡°Who are these people?¡±

    The chatter gradually faded as they journeyed deeper into the Steppes. A road that had begun as a rough, muddy path soon became two wet ruts, then eventually a thin, winding game trail. The temperature fell steadily, and by the second day a stinging snow flurry had begun. The soldiers wrapped their armor in spare scraps of leather or linen. Seeing Sakrattars¡¯ perplexed look, Leif leaned over on his horse. ¡°To stop the metal from freezing to their flesh,¡± he said. ¡°Like getting your tongue stuck to a frosty icicle, eh?¡±

    Sakrattars frowned. ¡°Not all of us are that dim,¡± he grumbled. But Leif was no longer paying attention¡ªhe was peering forward into the squall, where Dimitri and Captain Tullius trotted ahead of the column. The pair stopped, the captain standing in his stirrups, as a trio of riders came over a rise down the track. It was only their own scouts returning but, judging by the concerned looks on Dimitri¡¯s and Tullius¡¯ faces, this was not a scheduled resupply. The captain raised a fist and the column halted behind them to wait for the report.

    Dimitri didn¡¯t keep them waiting long. Turning his horse and trotting through the soaking wet grasses, he rejoined the column. ¡°They found something,¡± he said in a hushed voice when he was close enough.

    Tullius made a few sharp gestures and the legionnaires separated, dividing into small groups of two or three and fanning out across the track. Falling back into his auxilia training, Amale readied his bow and turned to join a nearby group.

    ¡°Uh. . . wait!¡± Leif whispered loudly. ¡°Was that ¡®retreat¡¯ or ¡®charge¡¯?¡±

    Amale stopped and glared at him, his ears laid back.

    ¡°Oh right.¡± Leif flushed as his memory finally produced the proper command. ¡°Cautious advance by teams. I knew that, heh. . .¡±

    ¡°Did you say you made decanus?¡± Sakrattars asked scathingly.

    Leif held a finger to his lips. ¡°Hey now, we need to be quiet.¡±

    Like wolves surrounding a deer, the company advanced up the hill. Some of the legionnaires, armed with crossbows, dismounted and crawled ahead through the slush and mud to crest the rise. When they reached the summit, they froze, then slowly rose to a kneel. Amale and Dimitri, then Leif and Jo, were all similarly struck into awed stillness. Jo motioned quickly for Sakrattars to turn his horse around but it was too late.

    Sakrattars, with Kaja perched behind him, trotted into line. Reacting to Jo¡¯s gestures, he reached back to shield Kaja¡¯s eyes but she had already seen it. Nestled against a rocky outcrop, was a smoldering village. Sputtering embers glowed defiantly in the wet flurries, sending up puffs of steamy vapor whenever the weather touched them. The blackened frames of huts poured gray smoke into the moaning winds.

    Kaja took in the sight in silence. Maybe it would have been easier if she cried or screamed, or even just looked away with a shiver, but the way she stared stoically made a sour taste rise up in Sakrattars¡¯ throat. With an assenting nod from Jo, he turned his horse to take Kaja back to the supply wagon, but her wide blue eyes remained trained on the ruins until they retreated back down the hill.

    Using hand-signals, Tullius instructed the troops to investigate the village. Half remained on the periphery, eyes on the steppes around them. There was nothing to see¡ªicy mists obscured their view beyond a few dozen yards¡ªbut they remained ready nonetheless. All had heard tales of orc raiding parties seeming to emerge from nowhere. The rest moved into the ruins. Amale felt the tension in his bow, where he held an arrow partially nocked. Soldiers picked their way through the village, turning over smoking beams with their swords, ducking their heads into half-burned huts, saying nothing aloud but occasionally communicating with glances, nods, or gestures.

    Leif found himself near the center of the village, where a black pillar of roughly hewn granite had been erected as a marker in the village square, orcish runes cut into its surface. Captain Tullius and Amale soon joined him, along with a couple of the soldiers. Leif recognized the look on Amale¡¯s face. ¡°What is it? Did you find something?¡±

    ¡°No, and that¡¯s what concerns me,¡± Tullius said.

    ¡°No bodies.¡± Amale shook his head.

    Leo approached along with Jo and the rest of the soldiers. ¡°No stores in the granary either,¡± he said. ¡°Everything¡¯s been taken.¡±

    ¡°A raid,¡± Leif said knowingly. ¡°We saw a lot of this in Balthissica.¡± He gestured at the ruins around them. ¡°A rival clan comes through, takes everything¡ªfood, weapons, women¡ªand burns the rest.¡±

    ¡°In these raids, did they take the men too?¡± Captain Tullius asked. ¡°Or overpower the enemy without a single drop of blood? No, these people left willingly.¡± He raised his voice as much as he dared. ¡°Regroup on the south end! We¡¯re moving out!¡±

    Cowed into silence by the captain¡¯s confident authority, Leif lingered for a few moments more as the soldiers shouldered their shields and headed out of the village. Before too long, he followed.

    It was sundown when the scouting team reported another encounter.

    ¡°Twenty. Maybe more,¡± the lead scout whispered. She was on her belly, partially hidden behind a windswept hill, with Tullius, Dimitri, and Jo by her side. Darkness had fallen quickly, bringing with it hail-like snow that felt like splinters of glass against the skin. Jo tucked her woolen cloak tighter around her body and turned back to where Kaja and Sakrattars were waiting by the wagon. Normally Kaja would be quite content with this kind of weather, but she had been silent since they left the burned village. Jo reminded herself to check in on her once it was safe to do so.

    Ahead of them, three campfires flickered in the darkness, struggling to stay lit in the wind and snow. Shadowy shapes mingled around the fires, passing in front of them and blocking their light for a moment, then moving on.

    ¡°Are they civilians?¡± Tullius asked.

    ¡°Hard to tell with orcs, sir.¡±

    He wasn¡¯t pleased with the scout¡¯s flippant response, but had to admit she had a point. He turned to Dimitri and raised his eyebrows. Dimitri took the look for what it was¡ªthis was going to be his first test of diplomacy in the Steppes.

    In the camp, orcs clustered miserably around the firepits. Pots had been placed amid the coals, rough gruel bubbling inside. Even calling it ¡°gruel¡± would be generous¡ªit was a simple broth made from rain water and fibrous grass. Luckily, their ancestors had weathered worse storms than this one and passed that hardiness down to their kin. They would survive.

    The chieftain spooned out a double helping of the tea-like broth for a young mother holding a babe wrapped in scraps of an old Imperial uniform. When a scout sounded the alert, he looked up swiftly. Torches were advancing on them.

    Shouts and war-calls erupted from the camp. Hands beat on pots, on tent posts, on anything that could make noise, rousing the refugees from their rest. The chieftain rushed into the darkness, standing between the approaching threat and the camp. A handful of warriors stood around him, holding torches of their own. They would not be caught unawares.

    The two spheres of torchlight grew closer, illuminating each group to the other. The orcs looked into the wind-whipped, squinting faces of Dimitri and his Imperial escort. The chieftain noticed Jo among them and frowned, his fist tightening around the handle of his axe. Humans and elves could be dealt with if need be, but they were in no shape to go up against natiuhans.

    When the two groups became uncomfortably close, the chieftain spoke up in Imperial common. ¡°Back the way you came,¡± he said with a gesture.

    Dimitri stepped forward. ¡°You¡¯re in charge here, yes?¡±

    The chieftain looked down at him, taking in everything from his stance, to his clothing, to the small dueling sword at his waist. Dimitri could almost hear the calculations running in the orc¡¯s head. ¡°Yeh,¡± he grunted.

    Dimitri couldn¡¯t blame them for being stand-offish. He was fully aware of what his presence looked like from their perspective and, from the looks of them, they had already been through a lot. Their clothing was a patchwork of whatever they could find: scraps of hide, sections of light cloth woven from steppe grasses, even rusted patches of armor that could have been Imperial in origin¡ªwhether stolen, bought, or salvaged. Their weapons were nothing more than hatchets, cudgels, and repurposed tools. However, what struck Dimitri most was how thin they were. Drawn in by curiosity, some of the orcs had emerged from their tents, and came to peer at the interlopers from the edge of the torchlight, the green skin of their faces sallow and sunken.

    ¡°I¡¯m Dimitri Vasiliyev. I am¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡ªdon¡¯t give a sot who you are.¡±

    The Imperial soldiers edged closer and Dimitri took a breath at the interruption. Orcs had a reputation for being laconic and rude, but he knew it was because they didn¡¯t trust outsiders. ¡°I come as an envoy of the Empire,¡± he began again. ¡°And you are?¡± The orc did not answer and his hand never left the hilt of his axe. Dimitri continued regardless. ¡°I¡¯m looking for those who are not beholden to Gorzog Ironfang. We want to make a deal, in exchange for asylum within the Empire¡¯s borders.¡±

    Gasps broke out from both sides. Whispers were exchanged between the refugees, and between the soldiers. Clearly neither side had expected such an offer. Sakrattars bit his lip and Leif and Amale looked at each other. They hadn¡¯t heard Dimitri get approval for this.

    Dimitri waited for the ruckus to die down before continuing. ¡°We want to know how many clans Ironfang has gathered, and we would like to hire a guide to lead us to Forgeheart.¡±

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    One of the orc warriors spat on the ground, as a new wave of scandalized whispers broke out. Dimitri had hoped that his honesty and their common enemy in Ironfang would mean more than the centuries of bad blood between the orcs and the ferix, but perhaps he was being naive. Even when facing annihilation, the ancient roots of resentment ran deep.

    ¡°That all?¡± the chieftain asked. ¡°Just for that, you take us in like orphans?¡±

    ¡°Here¡¯s a tip, Imperial,¡± one of the warriors said, taking a half-step toward Dimitri, ¡°if you¡¯re trying to lure fresh slaves into your kingdom, make up a better lie.¡± Assenting jeers and snarls rippled through the other refugees, and a few of the Imperials slowly closed their hands around their sheathed swords.

    ¡°If we wanted you as prisoners or slaves, we wouldn¡¯t be speaking,¡± Dimitri said, desperate to avoid confrontation. ¡°It¡¯s Ironfang who wants to enslave you and force you into his army. We want to help you end his reign of tyranny.¡± If this thawed the orcs¡¯ sentiment at all, it didn¡¯t show.

    Jo sighed. The negotiations were going nowhere and she had seen enough hostile looks from the orcs to think that her presence was only serving to flame the tensions. Slowly but surely, she extracted herself from the main group and joined Kaja and Sakrattars in the rear. Sakrattars was watching the unfolding discussion but Kaja was staring off into the darkness, seemingly uninterested in the conversation. Jo found that strange¡ªKaja was normally fascinated by new places and new people. The horses shied and nickered as Jo approached, but she gently grasped Kaja¡¯s pony by the bridle to hold him calm. She leaned over. ¡°What is it?¡± she asked softly.

    Kaja didn¡¯t answer. The shimmering tapetum in her eyes glinted in the firelight as she peered into the pitch-black flurries beyond.

    ¡°What?¡± Jo repeated, quieter but more insistent, reaching out to put a hand on Kaja¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°There¡¯s a dog out there,¡± Kaja whispered, pointing.

    Jo squinted. ¡°A dog?¡±

    From all sides at once, terrible, howling snarls shattered the tension. Large shapes burst from the darkness, crashing into the negotiating parties like a wave upon a shorebreak. Jo pulled Kaja off the pony just as it started to rear and bolt. ¡°Stay close!¡± she yelled, dropping Kaja down by her side. As one of the attackers lunged at them, Jo lashed out, punching at what she hoped was a vulnerable spot. Her cestus made contact with wet, matted fur and impacted the flesh and bone beneath. The beast was hurled back with a deep, sharp yelp.

    Metal glinted as the warriors fought for their lives. United in the moment, legionnaires and refugees stood back-to-back¡ªthe Imperials bashing the creatures with their shields as the orcs grabbed great fistfuls of fur to pull the stricken animals to the ground. An odd whistle of whipping ropes pierced through the noise as weighted bolas struck the defenders and, one by one, they were felled. These were no feral beasts¡ªthere were orc raiders mounted on their backs, armored in blackened metal, their faces streaked with soot so they would not glint in the darkness. One of the mounts pinned down an Imperial soldier, locking its jaws around his chest as he screamed, and Jo finally recognized what they were: wargs, great wolves the size of ponies, each one saddled in crude leather and trained for battle.

    The ambush was mere seconds old and already it was turning into a rout as the feeble resistance sputtered. ¡°Go, Kaja!¡± Jo cried, hurling herself at the nearest warg. She scruffed the orc riding it by the back of his armor, and threw him into the ground. Though he impacted with enough force to make a divot in the cold mud, he was back on his feet in moments. Shards of ice, razor-sharp, whizzed past Jo and peppered the risen raider. He fell back, crying out in pain. Kaja repositioned, ready to channel more of the falling snow into projectiles.

    ¡°I said run!¡± Jo shouted. Just then, a bola struck her in the neck, the weights bruising her as the ropes wound tight around her throat. More angry than injured, Jo clawed at the offending coils. She had snapped more than a few Imperial ropes in her time, so she was expecting to be free in an instant. These ropes, however, were designed to restrain the likes of ferix and orcs. She managed to break them, but she lost precious seconds in doing so¡ªseconds that the raiders used to throw more ropes around her legs. Grasping the ends firmly, they bolted aboard their wargs, yanking Jo¡¯s balance out from under her and sending her crashing into the mud.

    Jo thrashed impotently, the wind knocked out of her. For every rope she snapped, another looped around her wrist, her ankle, her neck. A warg latched onto her hand, pinning her arm down as she tried in vain to break free.

    Craning her neck, Jo desperately searched for Kaja, hoping that she wouldn¡¯t find her. Her stomach lurched when she saw two raiders restraining the young zmaj, who was hissing and thrashing like a feral cat. The orcs had scars of hoarfrost on almost every exposed surface and a nearby warg frantically pawed at its face where Kaja had scratched its eye. The urge to shift rippled beneath Jo¡¯s skin. She wanted nothing more than to feel her jaws close around the raider¡¯s throat before she whisked Kaja off into the night. She knew it was a futile desire though. As a sabercat, she was fast, but wargs could run for hours and easily wear her down. In the end, she had to accept defeat.

    Amale, Dimitri, and Leif watched helplessly from where they were seated¡ªarms and feet bound, and covered in cuts and bruises¡ª as the rest of the survivors were rounded up. Nearby, Sakrattars raised his hands in surrender, pleading with the raiders not to hurt him. The area was littered with prone bodies, orc refugees and Imperials alike. Some lay deathly still, snowflakes falling unnoticed on their wide-eyed faces. Most were still alive and struggled against their bindings, growling, cursing, or railing against their captors, all to no effect.

    As a raider rolled Leo onto his back to tighten the rope around his ankles, the young soldier yelled and, in one last act of defiance, kicked in the raider¡¯s face, sending him sprawling backwards into the mud. In an instant, there was a flash of steel as a second raider pressed a long, jagged dagger to his throat. Leo swallowed, and lay still.

    As quickly as it had begun, the fight was over.

    *

    *

    Kaja groaned as she was thrown into the back of the cart. Foul-smelling hay cushioned the impact, but with her limbs bound, she could do nothing to break her fall. The pain was incomparable to her fear and confusion, though. Wriggling like a caterpillar, she managed to roll into a kneeling position. The cart bed was encased by crude, rusty metal bars and hitched to a pair of large, shaggy beasts with small black eyes and rounded horns on their noses. Kaja had never seen any creatures like them, but there was no time to be curious. Other shapes moved in the darkness beyond the bars¡ªblack-armored raiders leading captured soldiers and refugees, shoving them into carts or binding them neck-to-neck in a long line with rope collars.

    Kaja grunted as someone else was carelessly tossed into her. ¡°Oof. . . sorry, miss.¡± It was Leo¡¯s familiar voice.

    ¡°It¡¯s. . . it¡¯s okay,¡± Kaja said quietly, not knowing what else to do.

    More people were loaded into the cage until it was so full Kaja had to sit pressed up against the bars. Frantically, she scanned the area, trying to find anyone else she knew. Sakrattars, Amale, Tullius, and Leo were on the cart with her, whereas most of the imprisoned orcs were bound neck-to-neck behind them. She couldn¡¯t find Leif or Dimitri.

    Finally, she spotted Jo all of the way in the rear. Her muscular arms were bound behind her back so tightly it looked like they¡¯d been pulled from their sockets. The orcs knew natihuans well and took no chances. As they made eye contact, Jo gave Kaja a meaningful look before she was dragged forward by a warg rider. For now, that was all they could have.

    The cart creaked and rattled as the beasts bellowed and snorted, straining on their harnesses to pull their overloaded burden. Warg riders flanked the convoy, darting in to goad captives who were not walking fast enough.

    Kaja didn¡¯t know how much time had passed, but her aching bones and numb spots suggested it had been most of the night. She wiggled and shifted in a desperate bid to find some semblance of relief, and as she did, she noticed something¡ªrather, someone¡ªshe hadn¡¯t before. One of the prisoners in the cage had not been with their group and was not one of the refugees either. She sat with her head bowed, her wrists bound in her lap, her tangled black hair hanging around her face like a curtain. Perhaps sensing she was being watched, she raised her head.

    Kaja¡¯s eyes went wide as recognition came to her. A voice echoed in her memory.

    My, if looks could kill. . .

    It was the orc woman who had freed Osric from the bandits in Barsicum, the same one Kaja had seen outside Castrum Ustarius just before they encountered Lucretia and Bhorovane. The orc gave her a knowing look accompanied by a wan smile. ¡°The gods sure have a sick sense of humor, neh?¡± she said in a weak rasp.

    A massive fortress emerged out of the early morning fog, pulling Kaja¡¯s attention away. It wasn¡¯t made with cut stones like the Imperial constructions that Kaja had grown used to, but instead it was dug out of the ground itself. Dirt from an encircling trench had been piled high into earthen walls and reinforced with sharpened stakes and rocks. Within, a forest of tents in a panoply of different patterns and colors surrounded a large holdfast of rock and wood connected to a compound of fortified buildings.

    As they approached, warg riders clambered over the embankments and cantered toward them. The riders were cloaked, their faces concealed by simple metal masks. Kaja¡¯s heart leapt to her throat as she peered through the bars. The convoy stopped and the raiders casually greeted the masked riders in orcish. There was no shadowy miasma surrounding the riders, no malice dripping off their bodies like toxic slime. Their masks were made to mimic the Fallen, but they did not seem to be Fallen themselves. Kaja felt sick to her stomach. Who would want to be like them?

    Something the raiders said to the masked riders seemed to get their attention. They glanced her way, still talking in curt, surprised tones. Kaja¡¯s eyes widened and she instinctively dipped her head down to conceal her face. Did they know who she was? Maybe they weren¡¯t Fallen, but they had to be working with the Irkallu, right? She glanced back at Jo, who looked exhausted from having been marched all night through the icy cold. Sakrattars was either asleep or unconscious, she wasn¡¯t sure which.

    Her brain was still desperately trying to come up with a plan as one of the masked orcs opened the cage door with a shriek of rusted metal. ¡°You¡¯re coming with me. The Warmaster will wanna see you,¡± he said, reaching into the cage. . .

    . . . and dragging the orc bandit out onto the ground. Kaja was still staring after them in disbelief as the cage door slammed shut, and the convoy started marching again, heading for the fortified compound within.

    *

    *

    Aroga spared one last glance at the white-haired girl as she was half-marched, half-dragged over to the wargs. With a grunt of protest, she was flung over the flanks of one of the stinking beasts like a sack of feed. The masked rider wheeled it around and trotted back into the camp. The army was starting to wake up for the day, and everywhere someone was lighting cooking fires, polishing weapons, or setting up sparring matches.

    By the time the rider stopped, Aroga felt like her ribs were going to break. ¡°Ugh, your beast¡¯s got such a thin, bony ass. You should really feed it some more children, neh?¡±

    Swinging a leg off the warg, the masked orc dragged his prisoner from his mount. ¡°You¡¯re funny,¡± he growled, deftly cutting her bindings before shoving her through the flaps of a large, impressive tent.

    Aroga came to a rest in a kneel, her knees pressing into a carpet of soft, comfortable furs. Ahead of her, seated on a throne of wood, hide, and metal scrap, was the warlord Ironfang himself. His head resting on a hand, he regarded her with smug amusement. ¡°Aroga. How nice of you to come all this way to see me.¡±

    Aroga managed a snort of derision. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t cross a damned street to see you,¡± she said disdainfully.

    Gorzog Ironfang lived up to his reputation. A full head taller than any natiuhan and as powerfully muscled, he towered over every other orc in the Snowskull Steppes. His tusks had grown so large, they were scrimshawed with designs depicting his many victories over his enemies. One of these tusks was wreathed in multiple bands of forged iron. On either side of the throne were guards, more for the show of power and control than for protection¡ªIronfang was more than capable of handling any threat that might cross him. The guards, arms folded over powerful chests, glared down at Aroga with the same expression one might give a pesky fly.

    But it was the priestess that drew Aroga¡¯s attention most of all. Cloaked in rich robes of black and white, she stood with poise and confidence, holding a staff carved from polished coal. She looked down at Aroga, her face betraying nothing.

    Aroga rose to her feet, trying not to shake from the cold, the pain, and the exhaustion. ¡°I¡¯m here for Gorza.¡± She locked eyes with the priestess. ¡°Free her, we¡¯ll leave, and you¡¯ll never hear from either of us again.¡± Ironfang leaned forward, his lips curling around his tusks.

    Gorza rolled her eyes, scoffing. ¡°By the gods, Aroga,¡± she said. ¡°If nothing else, you are persistent. Don¡¯t you even know what¡¯s happening here? What we¡¯re about to accomplish?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t give a dire rat¡¯s fart what you think you¡¯re accomplishing,¡± Aroga said. ¡°Those people are dangerous, I know you see that.¡± She glared at Ironfang. ¡°And I gotta say, I¡¯m not surprised you fell in with this lot. Scum clumps together, neh?¡± Ironfang chuckled, shaking his head at her brazenness. If anyone else dared to speak to him that way, their head would have been on a pike by now.

    Gorza wrinkled her nose. ¡°And you¡¯re any better, working with Benjamin Saana and his bandits? Or do you forget who employs them?¡±

    ¡°How could I?¡±

    ¡°So why let yourself fall in with so-called ¡®scum¡¯?¡±

    ¡°To get to you, you idiot!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not the idiot who got herself captured!¡±

    ¡°Oh my ass!¡±

    ¡°Daughters,¡± Ironfang said, his voice deep, commanding, confident. The word turned Aroga¡¯s stomach. She tensed her muscles to prevent her body from revealing her feelings. Gorza, on the other hand, smiled. ¡°Stop this arguing,¡± Ironfang ordered. ¡°It gladdens me that you¡¯ll both be here to witness my final victory in the Steppes. It¡¯s time I set my sights on crushing Forgeheart once and for all.¡± He stood, gesturing to the furs lining the ground. One area was left conspicuously uncovered. ¡°I will add Vyrkad Gleamgear¡¯s pelt to my collection and then I will turn my sights beyond the mountains.¡±

    ¡°Very good, Father,¡± Gorza said, sweet and obedient.

    Ironfang turned to a subordinate. ¡°Put a spit on the fire. A whole goat.¡± As the orc scuttled away to prepare the meal, Ironfang tossed Gorza an earthen jug. She uncorked it and a strong, putrid odor filled the room. Aroga could feel her eyes watering. ¡°From the former Warmaster¡¯s personal store,¡± Ironfang said with a wicked grin. ¡°Break fast with me and we¡¯ll talk.¡±

    But before they could get settled, someone else rushed into the tent. He whispered a few words to Ironfang. ¡°Later,¡± Ironfang said to his daughters, ¡°we¡¯ll eat later.¡± Then he rose and followed the others out into the camp.

    The sisters spent a few tense moments in silence, listening to the rowdy laughter of soldiers outside the tent. Gorza finally stood.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see to the goat,¡± she said. It was a flimsy excuse.

    ¡°Gorza.¡± Aroga reached out and grabbed her sister¡¯s arm. ¡°It¡¯s not too late.¡±

    Gorza looked down in disgust. ¡°What are you saying?¡±

    Aroga tightened her grip. ¡°Let¡¯s leave. Tonight. We know these plains, these hills. We can go where Ironfang will never be able to find us.¡±

    ¡°And leave him during his moment of glory? I think not.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a monster.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s our father.¡± Gorza pulled away from Aroga¡¯s grasp, the medallions on her habit chiming softly.

    ¡°He sired us but no more,¡± Aroga said, her frustration and fear reaching her voice. ¡°It was Mother who raised us, cared for us. She did everything in her power to get us away from that bastard and you dishonor her memory by crawling back to his side.¡±

    Gorza¡¯s eyes flashed dangerously, her face twisting into a sneer. Aroga could scarcely believe that the stranger in front of her was her beloved sister. ¡°Mother was stupid, shortsighted,¡± Gorza spat venomously. ¡°She could have been by his side, enjoying the glory of his victories. Instead she chose the life of a coward. I won¡¯t make the same mistake.¡±

    Now Aroga was beginning to get truly angry. ¡°Yeah? Is that what this is to you?¡± she laughed, harsh and wheezing. ¡°So, tell me, is there any price you won¡¯t pay for a taste of someone else¡¯s glory?¡± Gorza looked like she wanted to strike Aroga and Aroga would almost welcome it. They could fight like they did when they were children, knocking each other into the grass and kicking up clouds of dust and insects. Aroga was bigger, stronger, and perhaps what her sister needed was a sound thrashing in order to come to her senses.

    ¡°This is bigger than Father and bigger than me,¡± Gorza said. ¡°I won¡¯t let you keep dragging the mission down. You can either stand with us or I¡¯ll be forced to tell Lord Alistair what you¡¯ve done.¡±

    Aroga was stunned. She and her sister had always been one, sharing everything ever since they had shared the womb. But this vision¡ªthis nightmare¡ªwas something they couldn¡¯t share. She thought that Alistair was threatening Gorza, or maybe that awful witch, Hester, had enchanted her. But now Aroga was beginning to see the truth. Gorza didn¡¯t suddenly care about Ironfang¡¯s petty ambitions; he was just a means to an end in serving the Irkallu¡¯s higher purpose. She believed in it.

    Before Aroga could respond, another messenger pulled back the tent flap. ¡°Priestess,¡± he greeted reverently. ¡°The prisoners. There¡¯s something you should see.¡±

    Gorza looked at Aroga once more, before nodding at the messenger. ¡°Lead on,¡± she said. Aroga reluctantly followed her sister out of the tent.

    *

    *

    Sakrattars watched every movement from behind the bars of their prison. Ironfang¡¯s forces had stripped them of all their weapons and packs and thrown them into proper cages. Jo, who had been marked as the most dangerous out of them, was chained wrist, neck, and ankle to a sturdy post outside. She was slumped over, exhausted and in pain from the recent beating they had given her. Sakrattars looked to Amale, who was shivering quietly, and then at Kaja, curled up and frightened. They shared their cell with Captain Tullius and the handful of surviving Imperial soldiers, and a pair of ferix prisoners of war. Leif and Dimitri were stowed in another cage nearby, alongside several more ferix and some of the orc refugees.

    The ferix were much larger than Sakrattars had expected¡ªif they straightened out their slumped posture they would rival natiuhans in height. The catfolk were burly and intimidating, with saber teeth and massive paws, and lightly-armored bodies covered in fluffy fur that blocked the biting cold. Their forearms and back had hard, scaly plates that overlapped like roof tiles, reminding Sakrattars of a shrimp in shell. He had been nervous about sharing a prison cell with the ferix, but so far they seemed wholly uninterested in their new roommates, for better or for worse.

    Sakrattars tracked the guard as he went about his business. Fortunately, the orcs of the Steppes did not have a history of being magically-inclined and had allowed Sakrattars to keep his spell components simply because they hadn¡¯t realized his pockets full of stones, dried herbs, and sand were threatening. Sakrattars only had to wait for the right opportunity and he might be able to free them.

    His ears perked to the sound of footsteps and the harsh dialect of orcish. From around the corner appeared a priestess, a bandit, and an escort of guards. Sakrattars immediately recognized them as the orc sisters from outside Castrum Ustarius. So Grandmistress Anya and Dimitri were correct to believe that the Irkallu were operating in the Steppes. His eyes darted to his companions, but no one else seemed to realize it.

    The priestess gazed into their cage, her yellow eyes studying Kaja, then drew back and issued a sharp command to the guards. Sakrattars stiffened, a lead weight dropped into his gut. He knew just enough of the language to understand that she knew who Kaja was. The guards approached, pulling out the key to unlock their cage. All the prisoners were on alert now, curious as to what was happening. Sakrattars¡¯ hand went instinctively to his pocket. If he cast a spell now, he¡¯d have to be certain that the people in their cell could take out the eight enemies present. Judging by their sorry state, he doubted that was possible, but he also didn¡¯t know if they¡¯d be able to find Kaja again if they took her to another location.

    The bandit and four of the guards entered the cage. Amale¡¯s ears flattened back and he growled, a deep rumbling noise that Sakrattars was surprised to hear come from the quiet lycaeon. Captain Tullius clenched a fist. The pair of ferix in the corner watched carefully. Then someone, Sakrattars couldn¡¯t tell who, made a sudden movement and everything happened all at once.

    Two of the guards trained their spears on Tullius and his men while another tackled Amale, quickly overpowering him and pinning him to the floor. The bandit grabbed Sakrattars¡¯ arm, twisting it behind his back. The spell components dropped uselessly from his hand. ¡°Don¡¯t do it,¡± she murmured into his ear. The words sounded less like a threat, which was what Sakrattars was expecting, and more like advice, which he was not.

    Jo strained against her chains, shouting curses, as the fourth guard approached his target. Kaja shied away from him until she hit the back of the cage. Amale writhed and snarled and snapped his jaws from beneath the firm grasp of the soldier on top of him.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Leif yelled from the other cage. ¡°Leave her alone! Fight me you limp-backed squids! Don¡¯t you touch her!¡± His efforts earned a sharp strike across the metal bars.

    A surge of arcane energy crackled through the air and the guard hesitated for a moment, perhaps reading the danger in Kaja¡¯s body language. Sakrattars¡¯ breathing quickened as his mind frantically considered every grim possibility. Kaja was powerful, that wasn¡¯t in question, but she wouldn¡¯t be able to fight all of them alone and no one else was in the position to back her up. He wished he had cast his spell without hesitation, or that he tried to get them out sooner even if the risk was high.

    ¡°Don¡¯t do it,¡± the bandit whispered again, scattering his anxious thoughts.

    Then, for reasons he didn¡¯t fully understand, Sakrattars locked eyes with Kaja and subtly shook his head ¡°no¡±. The magic dissipated and the guard yanked Kaja to her feet, leading her out the door. Jo was apoplectic, digging deep trenches into the soil with her feet and thrashing against her restraints until they cut into her skin. The other guards were beating her with clubs but she barely seemed to notice them.

    The priestess watched in satisfaction as the soldier led Kaja away. Before she turned to follow, she snapped an acidic reprimand at the guards. Sakrattars didn¡¯t catch all of what she said but he did clock the borrowed word ¡°wizard¡± from Imperial common and his heart skipped a beat. After a brief scuffle, the bandit stripped him of his robes and then relocked the cage. Sakrattars shivered in his linen underrobe, as cold as he was humiliated, and feeling rather hopeless without his chance at escape.

    Ushered forward by the team of guards, Kaja took a last fleeting glance back at the companions, then vanished around the corner to face the unknown.

 Session 12 - Beasts of the Arena

    The distinct feeling of being watched pierced through the haze of Aroga¡¯s jumbled thoughts. The white-haired girl stared up at her with her strange blue eyes. Don¡¯t look at me like that, Aroga thought, I can¡¯t help you this time. She felt absurd, willing the girl to read her mind. Well, maybe the girl could read minds¡ªAroga didn¡¯t know what she was capable of. Eventually, the girl turned away and gazed down at her feet.

    When they arrived at their destination, a large tent on the edge of camp, Gorza dismissed the guards then reached into her pocket and sprinkled a handful of white sand onto the girl¡¯s face. Instantly, she dropped to the ground. ¡°Carry her in,¡± Gorza ordered without so much as a backwards glance. Aroga bristled at the cold professionalism but scooped up the sleeping girl as requested.

    The tent was Gorza¡¯s private workspace, furnished with such battlefield luxuries as a table and chairs, a chest of drawers, and soft fur rugs. A fire burned in a stone pit in the center, the gray smoke billowing out through a hole in the roof. Three soldiers stood at attention when Gorza drew back the flap. These were not Ironfang¡¯s orcs, Aroga knew¡ªthey were Irkallu operatives who answered directly to Gorza and Gorza alone. When they saw the white hair streaming out from the unconscious girl¡¯s hood, they gasped.

    ¡°Bind her hands and feet, and gag her as well. She can use magic and I don¡¯t fancy her escaping,¡± Gorza said. As two of the agents hurried to carry out her commands, Gorza gestured to the third. ¡°I have a special task for you. You are to take a warg to Lord Alistair and report the girl¡¯s capture. Tell him I will keep her under my watchful eye until he sends some men to retrieve her. With my father¡¯s main army closing in on Forgeheart, I cannot afford to send my own.¡±

    The agent nodded, committing the message to memory. ¡°Should I report on the siege? Lord Alistair is becoming impatient.¡±

    Gorza sighed. She knew the agent was right but Forgeheart was a massive fortress, all but impregnable, and required the maximum amount of resources that Ironfang could muster. To gather that kind of strength took time¡ªtime that Alistair was being pressured to expedite. ¡°Tell him that we will begin the siege as soon as we may,¡± she said.

    The agent acknowledged this, but his expression tensed. It was a message that wouldn¡¯t exactly gladden their lord to hear.

    ¡°It¡¯s too bad we can¡¯t just break the siege with Bhorovane,¡± one of the others said.

    ¡°My father would accept nothing less than complete command over him and I don¡¯t need to tell you how Bhorovane would take that.¡± Gorza shook her head. ¡°In addition, he¡¯s still cross with us over the Castrum Ustarius affair. I don¡¯t think we can expect his help any time soon.¡±

    ¡°He has too much pride. If he were more like his master¡ª¡±

    Gorza laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t let Bhorovane hear you call anyone his ¡®master¡¯. Not unless you want to go up like a torch.¡±

    The agent grunted. ¡°Just saying that having a dragon would be handy, that¡¯s all.¡±

    Once the white-haired girl was aptly secured, Gorza turned to leave. ¡°Stay here,¡± she ordered the two remaining agents. ¡°I want a guard on her night and day until Lord Alistair¡¯s men come for her. My sister and I must attend to our father.¡±

    The agents exchanged nervous glances.

    ¡°What is it? Go on, speak up!¡±

    ¡°We thought that you might be remaining here,¡± one finally said. His eyes flickered briefly on the girl¡¯s sleeping form.

    Gorza looked down at them haughtily. ¡°Ah, I see. I didn¡¯t expect such cravenness from you.¡±

    ¡°But isn¡¯t she a dragon too?¡±

    ¡°She is not. I¡¯ve put her to sleep, her hands and feet are bound, and she cannot speak the words of magic. She¡¯s helpless.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t underestimate her, neh?¡± Aroga interrupted with a dry chuckle. ¡°She fought off Azriel and Bishram pretty damn good.¡±

    Gorza glared daggers at her, then turned back to the agents, her voice brimming with anger. ¡°If you think that guarding an unconscious waif of a girl is too much for you, then I suggest you report your concerns to Lord Alistair himself and let him decide what consequences your behavior merits.¡± The agents clammed up, stood at attention, then grabbed their weapons and settled into their watch. ¡°That¡¯s what I thought,¡± Gorza said. ¡°Aroga, come.¡± Aroga¡¯s jaw stiffened but she followed her sister out of the tent.

    Once they were out of earshot, Gorza whirled around. ¡°Don¡¯t you ever undermine me in front of my men again,¡± she hissed.

    The mounting sadness Aroga felt suddenly made her weary. ¡°Sister, what happened to you?¡± she asked softly.

    ¡°What happened to me?¡± Gorza whispered, incredulous. ¡°What happened to you? Leaving Benjamin¡¯s company, abandoning our duties to our father.¡± She ticked the offenses off on her fingers. ¡°Leave that girl alone, Aroga. If something happens, you¡¯ll be the first person I suspect.¡±

    A pang of grief pierced Aroga¡¯s heart but she tried to keep it from her face. ¡°She¡¯s a child, Gorza.¡±

    ¡°A child who knows where the zmaj are hiding,¡± Gorza said. ¡°You¡¯ve gone soft. My sister was never such a coward.¡± She spun on her heel. ¡°I¡¯m going to wait for our father.¡±

    Aroga watched Gorza leave, her shoulders weighing heavier with each step. Her greatest fear was coming to fruition¡ªthe fear that her sister was walking down a path she wouldn¡¯t be able to follow.

    *

    *

    ¡°Up!¡± The rough command was accompanied by a startling rap against the metal bars. Sakrattars shot awake, his heart beating in his throat. The guard unlocked a slat and slid a few breakfast trays into their cell. They hadn¡¯t been fed since they were brought into camp the day before, but the sight of wormy bread and tins of foul brown broth only made Sakrattars queasy. On top of that, he hadn¡¯t slept well¡ªhis underrobe did little to keep him warm and, while he was more used to sleeping on the ground than he ever thought possible, bedding down on the bare wood floor of their prison was far worse than sleeping in the dirt.

    ¡°Eat,¡± the guard instructed in orcish, a cruel smile parting his lips. ¡°Eat!¡± He clubbed the bars again.

    ¡°I can¡¯t understand you,¡± Sakrattars pleaded in Imperial common.

    That wasn¡¯t entirely true. Sakrattars had asked Dimitri to help him brush up on some basic orcish on their way to Datharia. He had hoped he wouldn¡¯t need to use it, but he was right to trust his careful nature. He wanted to learn some ferish too, but Dimitri informed him that, regrettably, humans and elves didn¡¯t have the vocal cords to make the proper sounds.

    The guard quickly grew bored with Sakrattars and stalked off to harass the other prisoners. As long as Ironfang¡¯s horde didn¡¯t know that he could understand them, Sakrattars held a small advantage. And in their sorry state, he¡¯d take any foothold he could get.

    ¡°You expect us to eat this?¡± Sakrattars immediately recognized Leif¡¯s loud voice and peered over into the adjacent cell. He guessed that they must have received a meal of similar caliber. A ferix prisoner, white with a dark stripy pattern, nudged Leif out of the way and plucked up a worm-eaten roll. He popped it into his mouth.

    ¡°Imperials and your sensitive tummies,¡± he said between bites. ¡°Never turn down free grub in the Steppes.¡±

    ¡°Emphasis on the ¡®grub¡¯,¡± another ferix laughed.

    ¡°¡®Sensitive tummies¡¯ or no,¡± Dimitri said, ¡°I notice that you¡¯re the only one eating.¡±

    The striped ferix swallowed his mouthful then grinned, exposing long, sharp fangs. ¡°You got me there,¡± he said with a shrug. ¡°What¡¯s a bunch of Imperials doing this far north anyway?¡±

    Dimitri sighed. ¡°We were on our way to Forgeheart when we ran into a. . . complication.¡±

    ¡°Forgeheart?¡± Every pair of furry ears in the vicinity shot up.

    ¡°Yes, for a diplomatic meeting.¡±

    ¡°From the oh-so mighty Aurean Empire, huh?¡± The striped ferix scratched a patch of fur on his chest and leaned back lazily. ¡°Well too bad. I woulda offered to make some introductions but here we are.¡± He pointed up at the ceiling of their prison cell.

    ¡°Do you come from Forgeheart?¡±

    ¡°Not originally. The name¡¯s Barzom by the way.¡±

    ¡°Dimitri Vasiliyev.¡±

    ¡°These all your men?¡±

    Dimitri looked down solemnly. ¡°What¡¯s left of us, yes.¡±

    ¡°Not ¡®your man¡¯,¡± Leif grumbled, but was ignored.

    Barzom scanned all the faces in view. ¡°Tough luck. Even hiring natiuhans wasn¡¯t enough.¡± He gestured to where Jo stood slumped against the post. ¡°Ironfang isn¡¯t messing around.¡±

    ¡°He certainly isn¡¯t,¡± Dimitri agreed quietly.

    Conversation dimmed when the guard came back around the corner, this time accompanied by several armed warriors. Barzom glanced at them as they fiddled with the lock on their cell, then sighed as if the whole thing was just one big bother. ¡°Ah, we¡¯re off to the arena looks like,¡± he said as casually as if he were commenting on a change in weather. He stretched, long sickle-claws emerging briefly from his massive paws.

    ¡°The arena?¡± Leif echoed.

    ¡°You know. . .¡±¡ªBarzom mimed swinging a sword¡ª¡°arena.¡±

    ¡°I know what a damned arena is! Why?¡±

    Barzom shrugged. ¡°To die, I think.¡±

    Before more words could be exchanged, the warriors flooded in, cornering each of them by spearpoint and clapping rusty manacles over their wrists. One by one, Leif, Dimitri, and Barzom were herded out of the cell, then linked together so no one would get any wild ideas. From another cell, several of the refugees were rounded out and bound in a similar way.

    ¡°What about here?¡± a warrior asked, gesturing to Sakrattars¡¯ cell.

    The leader squinted. He pointed out Tullius, a couple of the Imperial soldiers, and the larger of the pair of ferix. ¡°Them. Leave the rest,¡± he said.

    ¡°The dog?¡±

    The leader eyed Amale up and down. ¡°Too skinny. We want it to be fun.¡±

    Sakrattars curled up, clasping his knees to his chest and keeping his eyes down. He didn¡¯t think they¡¯d target him if they rejected Amale, but it couldn¡¯t hurt to look as pathetic as he was feeling.

    Tullius and the others were manacled and led from the cell without event, but the chosen ferix groaned after a few steps. She pulled a paw away from her side, revealing sandy-colored fur stained with blood. ¡°Looks like your boys roughed me up a little too much,¡± she said. ¡°But we can all agree that Khez here is more than enough to handle you bloodfly maggots.¡± She nodded towards her partner, whose black and orange coat was tipped in gray and whose muzzle was going white with age. The warriors snorted, turning to their leader for advice.

    ¡°Too old!¡± He declared spitefully. ¡°Leave them!¡±

    Their choices plucked from the cells, they approached Jo with spears at the ready. She stayed motionless, defeated, her half-lidded eyes trained on the wet ground. She barely moved as they cautiously clasped a collar on her neck and manacles on her wrists, but when they released her from the pole, she yanked herself free and bull-rushed the first orc she saw. Catching him off guard, she knocked him down flat and, with her hands still tied together, brought a foot down onto his chest.

    ¡°Where is she?¡± Jo demanded, a lethal anger seeping from her husky voice as she pressed the orc into the mud. She stared down at him from under a shock of dark red curls, sticky and matted from where a club had split open her forehead. ¡°Where is she!¡± she shouted again, putting more weight on her foot. The orc, beating her calf with his fists, struggled to breathe, let alone talk. Fortunately for him, three of his fellows grabbed the chains and tugged Jo off.

    ¡°Do again and we kill,¡± one growled in fragmented Imperial common, gesturing to the cell with Sakrattars and the others. Jo stood to her full height and glared down at her captors with contempt, but allowed herself to be led away without further incident.

    Sakrattars slumped, his mind plagued with endless worries. His companions were running out of time and he was running out of ideas.

    *

    *

    Kaja lay still, her face pressed against the cold metal of the small cage the guards had thrown her into after the orc sisters left. Her body was stiff and achy after a full day in the cramped confines, but it didn¡¯t compare to her anxiety. Gorza¡¯s spell had worn off quickly so she had the opportunity to listen in on their conversations. She wished she was like Sakrattars or Dimitri and could fully understand what they were saying, but there was one word that she had recognized¡ªa name that sent an unpleasant chill down her spine.

    Bhorovane.

    Her brief encounter with the red dragon in the sky above Castrum Ustarius still filled her with a primal dread rivaled only by the Fallen. Kaja had spent more than one sleepless night haunted by the intensity of his hate-filled gaze and the gleam of flames on sharp teeth. She wondered if Bhorovane was coming for her, like he had come for Lucretia.

    She jostled her wrists then her ankles. To her disappointment, the braided-grass rope was firm and well-tied. A part of her had hoped that Jo would heroically burst through the tent flaps, take out the guards, and rescue her, but after a day and a night passed uneventfully, that childish fantasy waned. She was on her own.

    Kaja¡¯s eyes strayed to the guards. They were different from the other orc warriors, with tooled leather armor and black cloaks collared with gray fur. Kaja didn¡¯t know what it meant, if anything, but it felt significant. They were eating their morning meal, and conversing in a hushed but casual tone. Kaja knew the moment she acted, she would have to commit to whatever end awaited her. She tensed, steeling her nerves for her big move, when a whisper wafted up from the locket around her neck.

    Kaja held her breath and listened as a soft scratching scraped at the outer fabric of the tent. The two guards stopped talking and looked at the flaps, then at each other. The scratching continued, louder this time, and one of the guards stood, calling out tentatively. When the scratching rotated to the side, both guards headed outside for a look.

    Seizing her chance, Kaja channeled all of her arcane power to her hands, freezing the rope solid, then launched herself backwards to shatter it. Her hands free, she fumbled with partially numb fingers to remove the gag. The confused guards were coming back towards the flap; she could hear their boots clopping through the dead grass and mud. Quickly destroying the rope around her ankles, Kaja eagerly reached for the cage door. . . but her hands rattled uselessly against the bars.

    It was locked.

    There was a yell as the guards came back inside and saw that was happening. They drew their weapons and rushed towards her. Kaja¡¯s heart was beating out of her chest. It was now or never.

    She folded her hands and cried out a command in draconic. Icicles erupted around her, sending sharp pieces of frost-rimed metal shooting through the tent like knives. The guards froze in amazed terror, their panting breaths turning to dense puffs of chilly vapor.

    ¡°Gorza!¡± one wheezed and ran out of the tent.

    Kaja didn¡¯t wait. She jumped out of the ruins of the cage, looking this way and that for the best escape route.

    ¡°Don¡¯t move or I¡¯ll have to run you through,¡± the remaining guard warned, holding his spear at the ready. The tip quivered slightly, whether due to the change in temperature or to fear slipping through.

    Kaja flicked her wrist and a plume of frost blossomed beneath the guard¡¯s palms, causing him to drop the spear with a yelp. Before he could scramble for it, Kaja wiggled through the dirt under the canvas and took off through the encampment. She clasped one hand over the rusty locket as she ran.

    ¡°Thank you, friend,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Now we¡¯ve got to find the others.¡±

    *

    *

    Dimitri, hanging limply between orcs, stared at the furrows his boots left in the muddy soil. It wasn¡¯t dignified, but he figured if he was going to die anyway it was better to make the gutter-rats drag him there. Most of the prisoners were silent but Leif had been shouting insults and challenges the entire way, all of which went ignored. Jo marched beside them, her eyes looking straight ahead. Unlike Leif, she did not do their captors the honor of acknowledging their presence.

    At some point, the group split, with the shackled orc refugees being led in another direction. What their fate would be, Dimitri could not say. As for their own, he could hear the murmuring rumble of a distant crowd growing closer and closer. He lifted his head and saw the looming shadow of the fortified citadel. Constructed of shapeless stones hewn from the wind-carved cliffs of the steppes and mortared together with peat and animal dung, the structure looked every bit as hastily built as the rest of the settlement. The guards shoved their captives into a tiny gatehouse, then closed the door behind them.

    Dimitri¡¯s Ordo training kicked in¡ªto always be aware and leave nothing unknown. First, his surroundings. There were no windows and only a single flickering torch for light. A second door, made of heavy wood planks, blocked the way forward. Though muffled, the noise from the crowd was booming.

    Next, his companions. Leif was nearby, struggling to his feet despite his bound wrists. A wounded soldier lay motionless with a second soldier knelt beside him, staring at the ground. Barzom, the only ferix chosen, had a paw in his mouth, gnawing fruitlessly at the manacles. Dimitri locked eyes with Tullius and they exchanged a knowing nod.

    Jo stood at the back, her gaze unmoved from a fixed point ahead of her. It was as if she was looking at something else entirely. Dimitri had seen it before on the faces of Volgarian conscripts returning from battle, or Ordo agents who had watched their strike teams die in Irkallu ambushes. Jo hadn¡¯t been the same since Kaja was taken. Dimitri hoped that they¡¯d see each other again.

    His thoughts were interrupted when a wooden hatch opened in the ceiling and a large bundle fell through. It clattered in the dirt and the hatch slammed shut again. Fumbling with the cloth, Leif managed to unwrap it. Metal glittered from inside, and soon the gatehouse was filled with cool blue light.

    ¡°Oxhiminn!¡± Leif exclaimed, lifting the war axe clumsily. Everyone was crowding around now, each finding the weapons that had been taken from them when they entered the camp. They chatted excitedly, eager to be armed again. Notably, the shields Tullius, his men, and Leif had carried were nowhere to be seen. Tullius retrieved an object hidden at the bottom of the bundle. It was a set of keys.

    The party exchanged confused glances, but Barzom just extended his wrists expectantly. ¡°Come now, you¡¯ve got keys in the Aurean Empire, don¡¯t ya?¡± he said. With a quick turn of the keys, Barzom¡¯s manacles clunked to the ground. Another minute later and all of the captives were free.

    ¡°Thought I¡¯d never see you again, old girl.¡± Leif planted a kiss on Oxhiminn¡¯s blade.

    ¡°Quiet,¡± Tullius said, rubbing his chafed wrists.

    The whole gatehouse shook as the muffled crowd burst into raucous cheering and hundreds of boots stomped above them. With a whine of rusted chains, the heavy wooden gate wrenched upwards. Squinting against the shock of daylight, Dimitri watched Barzom¡¯s large outline walk calmly out into the sun.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    The cheers became frenzied screams as the prisoners emerged. As Barzom predicted, they were in a great arena, similar to the ones that hosted chariot races and sparring contests in the Empire. Rows of benches made from scrap metal and repurposed wood lined the sides, though the hundreds who had turned out to see the events were all on their feet¡ªshouting threats and curses in both orcish and Imperial common. The prisoners clustered together in a defensive circle as the crowd started throwing rocks and rotten food and other worse things that Dimitri didn¡¯t want to think about.

    Then, as soon as it began, the commotion ended. Every single head in the arena turned the same direction. Dimitri followed their gaze and, for the first time, laid eyes on Gorzog Ironfang, supreme warmaster of the Snowskull Steppes. A bolt of adrenaline rushed through Dimitri¡¯s body. Unbidden, a single thought raced through his mind before he could suppress it.

    I should have stayed in Aurea.

    Ironfang stood and lifted a single hand to silence the horde. As he looked out over the masses, he seemed to connect with each and every one of his followers. This wasn¡¯t a run-of-the-mill raider. Ironfang had charisma, leadership skills. There was a reason nearly all the orc clans of the Steppes had flocked to his banner. Dimitri noted the two orc women by the warlord¡¯s side. Wives? No, the shared resemblance was too strong. They had to be daughters. One was clad in leathers, sitting sullenly with her arms crossed. The other wore the robes of a cleric, her Aurelian-style clothing standing in sharp contrast to the rest of the crowd.

    Irkallu. So this was the connection they had suspected all along. Dimitri¡¯s resolve hardened¡ªIronfang had to be stopped.

    Ironfang¡¯s gaze terminated on the prisoners and Dimitri waited for the inevitable speech. The Imperials were weak and ready to fall, but also a looming threat; Ironfang was the only one who could stand against them; the prisoners¡¯ deaths would send a clear message to both the Empire and the Free Ferix Legions. Dimitri heard the same rhetoric countless times from a shifting cast of Volgarian despots in his childhood, and he expected this despot to be no different.

    ¡°Wanna see a fight?¡± Ironfang bellowed. The crowd erupted with chanting and stomping. Then Ironfang sat down again and that was that. Dimitri smiled wryly. He wasn¡¯t used to being wrong about people, yet Ironfang had surprised him twice already.

    On cue, three other gates in the arena cracked open and the prisoners braced themselves for what would emerge from them.

    First out was a tan-colored bear. Its handlers goaded it with spears, backing it out into the pit. In the sunlight, Dimitri saw a shimmer of iridescence on its coat and realized that the animal was covered in feathers, not fur. Screeching fiercely, it took a defensive swipe at the spears but the gate slammed shut behind it, parrying its blow. With nowhere else to go, it whirled around to face the prisoners, its hooked beak clacking in the center of its round white face. Owlbear! Ironfang must have imported one from the Grayspurs in the north.

    The second creature didn¡¯t need as much coaxing to leave its cage. It was an insect the size of a horse, with rows of jointed, skittering legs lining the length of its body. It stared down the prisoners with bulging compound eyes, its razor-sharp mandibles dripping with green, poisonous slime. Dimitri remembered reading about ankhegs but had never seen one in person before. The giant insects were common in the Steppes and many a wayward traveler had been suddenly grabbed and dragged into a hidden den, never to see the light of day again.

    From the third gate emerged a large, gray beast, its body covered in hard, flat scutes. It crept along the wall like a lizard and, though it lacked eyes, it twitched and reacted to some manner of stimulus. Sniffing the air, its lips curled back to reveal long, needle-like fangs. This armored beast was different¡ªit had a kind of intelligence. The way it circled, as if waiting for something, made Dimitri¡¯s blood run cold.

    Barzom adjusted his grip on his greatsword. ¡°Nice knowing ya,¡± he said. ¡°Sorry you got involved, but that¡¯s life on the steppes for ya.¡±

    One of the legionnaires turned to Tullius nervously, hoping for guidance. ¡°Captain?¡±

    Tullius set his jaw. ¡°Keep tight, watch each other¡¯s backs, and no one be a hero.¡± He looked sternly at Leif.

    ¡°Yeah yeah, got it,¡± Leif said, his eyes locked on the ankheg. He glanced up at Jo and said, ¡°kinda reminds me of that cavefisher we faced, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Jo just stared silently ahead and Leif took a grim breath. ¡°Well, let¡¯s handle it like we always do, eh?¡±

    Hungry for a meal after being starved for weeks, the ankheg wasted no time. It lunged aggressively and spit a gobbet of foul-smelling liquid. One of the soldiers screamed in surprise as the mucus-like substance started to hiss and smoke on his breastplate. Both he and Tullius frantically set to work unbuckling it before the acid ate through to the flesh beneath.

    The moment their formation was disrupted, the armored beast sensed its opening. There was no sound, no roar, no challenge. Just suddenly it was moving towards them faster than a galloping horse.

    ¡°Repel charge!¡± Leif bellowed. It was a reflex, a subconscious holdover from his training in the auxilia. Everyone was surprised to hear the call from him, Leif most of all, but the soldiers responded immediately. They split in two and the armored beast sailed through the gap, suddenly surrounded on all sides. The ranks closed again and the soldiers slashed and stabbed, opening up bleeding black wounds on the beast¡¯s hide. It whipped in a circle, lashing out with its long tail and sent several of them flying. With more freedom to move, the beast dove underground, vanishing in a splash of cold mud and rapidly excavated dirt.

    They hardly had time to recover from the shock when the enraged owlbear barreled into them. One of the legionnaires fell to the ground with a cry, clutching his leg where the animal¡¯s talons had opened up a long, bleeding gash. Two others dragged him out of harm¡¯s way just as the owlbear slammed down with both paws. Dimitri could see patches of missing feathers along the owlbear¡¯s body where Ironfang¡¯s orcs had whipped and beaten it, and he couldn¡¯t help but feel sorry for the creature even as he struck against it. He hit a glancing blow, the owlbear¡¯s thick coat easily deflecting his rapier. Overcompensating for the missed strike, he nearly toppled over into the dirt.

    Working together with a natural ease, Barzom pinned his sword under the owlbear¡¯s throat before it could retaliate against Dimitri, while Jo clamped her arms around its neck. As she pulled it back with all her strength, its back feet windmilled, scratching deep gouges into her lower legs. She grit her teeth and tried to hang on, but soon the beast tore free and sent her flying onto her back.

    As the others focused on the owlbear, Leif turned his attention to the ankheg. He picked up the discarded, acid-damaged breastplate, and lunged in, slashing with Oxihiminn then bringing the breastplate down onto the ankheg¡¯s face. The stunned insect reared up on its hind legs, hissing furiously, and spit another gob of acid. Leif threw himself to the ground, rolling through the mud just in time to avoid the blow.

    In the chaos, the ground exploded underneath the feet of a soldier who had become separated in the frenzied attack. The armored beast burst forth like a breaching whale and cut off the soldier¡¯s scream with a savage bite to the throat. The crowd went berserk.

    Dimitri felt sick to his stomach, a combination of terror, shock, and rage building inside of him. He expected the beast to vanish underground again, maybe dragging its victim with it, but it dropped the soldier¡¯s body like a discarded toy, and charged again. Dimitri sidestepped, agile as a dancer, and felt the wind of the beast¡¯s talons sailing dangerously close to his face. The audience started stamping and chanting, cheering on the armored beast to strike the fatal blow. But the creature backed off, swinging its head side to side and picking up its feet in a disorientated stumble. Dimitri¡¯s brow furrowed but he didn¡¯t have the time to analyze the strange development.

    The ankheg scuttled to the side, quick as a river crab, and struck out with both front legs to knock Leif off his feet. Dimitri sprinted toward the massive insect and launched himself onto its back. Straddling the shrieking beast like he was riding a horse, he pulled aside its mandibles. The acid ate through his glove and burned his skin, but he held on tight as the creature bucked and scuttled. Mustering a last bit of strength, Dimitri stabbed his rapier directly into its mouth. With a sickening tearing sound and a gush of blood, the shell around the ankheg¡¯s face cracked, exposing vivid green flesh beneath.

    Panicking, the ankheg rolled, driving Dimitri into the mud. He opened his mouth to cry out but a sharp pain sucked the air from his lungs as a rib snapped under the pressure. With one hand suffering acid burn, and his chest searing with every breath, Dimitri lay helplessly on the ground. Righting itself, with Dimitri¡¯s sword still lodged in its mouth, the ankheg scuttled back to him, drooling poison as it anticipated its meal.

    Dimitri blinked as Oxhiminn sailed over his face. Its glowing blue head sank deep into the exposed flesh in the ankheg¡¯s mouth. He watched in a shocked mix of surprise and relief as the creature collapsed, its legs twitching and scraping as it died. The crowd exploded in applause. Some beat on their shields or armor. They didn¡¯t care who lived and who didn¡¯t. It was all just part of the game.

    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, huh? They not squish bugs in Volgaria?¡± Leif asked with a cocky grin. Out of instinct, he offered Dimitri a hand up and only realized it after it had been accepted. Too exhausted for banter, Dimitri staggered to the ankheg¡¯s body and ripped his rapier from its mouth. He hoped it hadn¡¯t been too damaged by the insect¡¯s acid¡ªtwo threats still remained.

    Jo, Barzom, and Tullius formed a protective ring around the injured soldier, fending off the owlbear¡¯s intermittent attacks. At the same time, the armored beast was pacing on their periphery, growing more and more agitated and unable to concentrate on the hunt. Dimitri watched it closely. A spectator in the stands beat loudly on a rusty metal fence. Immediately, the armored beast whirled towards the jarring, tinny noise and bared its teeth.

    A dim hope dawned on Dimitri. He sheathed his sword, placed his fingers in his mouth, and whistled. The loud, sharp sound pierced through the din of the arena, catching the momentary attention of everyone¡ªfriend and foe alike.

    Except one.

    The armored beast was still turned away in its search for the offensive metallic rattling.

    ¡°Everyone, stomp your feet!¡± Dimitri cried. Though the owlbear had backed off temporarily, Jo and Barzom were loath to turn their attention away from it and Tullius was knelt on the ground trying in vain to staunch the injured soldier¡¯s bleeding leg.

    ¡°Do it!¡± Dimitri said again. He started stomping his own feet, making a series of heavy thumps in the thick mud. After a bewildered moment, Leif followed suit. Then Tullius. By the time Jo and Barzom joined in, even the owlbear was retreating, distrustful of the strange new development. The armored beast snarled, picking up its feet and shaking its head as the confusing stimuli overwhelmed its senses. Finally, it could take no more. It charged, sprinting at such a speed it seemed unreal.

    ¡°Hold!¡± Dimitri yelled. His broken rib made it feel like his belly was full of knives, but he kept stomping.

    The armored beast¡¯s powerful haunches coiled.

    ¡°Hold!¡±

    With an explosive movement, it launched itself into the air.

    ¡°Repel charge!¡±

    Instantly, the group separated and the beast sailed through them¡ªbarreling head-first into the owlbear. Shocked by this sudden attack, the owlbear fought to defend itself. The two creatures tumbled into the dirt, hopelessly entangled in a bloody struggle. The entire arena, both spectator and participant, watched in awed silence as the beasts grappled, slashed, bit, and tore.

    Finally, the armored beast pinned the owlbear, ending the poor animal¡¯s life with a bite to the throat. It held its head high and bellowed in triumph from blood-flecked lips¡ªonly to have that head cleaved from its neck by a swing of Barzom¡¯s greatsword. As the beast¡¯s head rolled into the dust, the crowd burst into wild cheers. Dimitri lifted his eyes and smirked.

    The only audience member not smiling was Ironfang.

    *

    *

    The prison guard looked up from his bone whittling project as distant hooting and hollering echoed through the camp. He grumbled something in unintelligible orcish and took his blade to bone more forcefully. Becoming more and more disgruntled with each uproarious cheer, he finally let out a frustrated sigh, threw down his tools, and sneaked off.

    After a tense moment, Leo whispered, ¡°is he coming back?¡±

    Amale pulled out a tiny switchblade from under the cloth wrapping on his left ankle. ¡°Not waiting to find out,¡± he said.

    ¡°Just how many knives do you have?¡± Leo asked incredulously. He remembered the lengthy disarming process the captors had submitted them to and thought it impossible that anyone could carry as many weapons as had been removed from Amale¡¯s person.

    ¡°Enough,¡± Amale said, bending his paws around the bars at an uncomfortable angle to jimmy the lock. It quickly became apparent, though, that getting the knife in the right position would not be manageable from inside the cage.

    Sakrattars looked where his robes had been tossed in a pile with all the other loot stolen from their party. Somewhere, in the folds of the fine embroidered fabric, was Bartholomew¡ªand as long as the toad was free, there was still a chance. A small chance, admittedly, but the only one Sakrattars had left. ¡°Bartholomew!¡± he called. ¡°Bartholomew, come here!¡± A few moments passed and the robes lay still. ¡°Bartholomew!¡±

    ¡°Cut it out!¡± the old ferix soldier, Khez, hissed. ¡°You¡¯ll get the guard to come back before the dog is done.¡± Amale rumbled in displeasure, but kept his focus on the lock.

    ¡°But if I can get my familiar¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut it!¡±

    As if on cue, the fabric folds rustled and Bartholomew poked his head out, blinking one eye then the other.

    ¡°Bartholomew!¡± Sakrattars tried not to sound too surprised in front of his detractors. ¡°Bring me the gold spice,¡± he ordered. The toad stared at him, showing no sign that he understood anything his master was saying. ¡°You know the gold spice. In that velvet pouch,¡± Sakrattars added helpfully.

    ¡°What in the Abyss are you¡ª¡± Khez grabbed Sakrattars by the shoulders and shook him. ¡°Tell it to get the key! The key!¡±

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t know what the key is!¡± Sakrattars snapped irritably. ¡°But he knows what gold spice is, and if I have gold spice I can open the lock.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Um, with magic?¡±

    Khez groaned in exasperation and fell back, a furry arm draped across her face. Sakrattars pursed his lips, thinking more and more that Jo had more in common with the ferix than just their size and feline nature.

    Ignoring the lack of faith, he turned back to his familiar. ¡°Did you get it?¡± he asked. Bartholomew tumbled to the ground with a squish and a splat then, scrambling on tiny legs, managed to turn himself over. He proudly showed off the pouch in his mouth and Sakrattars face fell. ¡°Not that one! I told you to get the gold spice!¡±

    But Bartholomew would not be dissuaded. He ambled through the prison yard, then got distracted by a cozy footprint about half way across. He nestled down into the cool mud and closed his eyes contentedly. Sakrattars heaved a great sigh.

    ¡°So he¡¯s not coming over here?¡± Leo asked timidly.

    Sakrattars shook his head. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t matter anyway. That¡¯s the pouch where I keep his mealworms.¡±

    ¡°Sakrattars! Amale!¡±

    The sudden cry startled Amale into dropping his switchblade. Kaja rounded the corner, cloak fluttering in the cold wind behind her. Without stopping, she scooped Bartholomew up in one arm.

    ¡°Kaja?¡± Sakrattars exclaimed. ¡°Where¡ªhow did you escape?¡± In response, Kaja grabbed the cage lock and hoarfrost shattered the metal into pieces. Amale pushed the door open on rusted hinges.

    ¡°That¡¯s how,¡± Khez said, shaking her injured partner awake. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±

    Kaja dashed to the next cage, then the next, then the next, and so on, leaving broken locks and freed prisoners in her wake. She looped back around to the guard tent, where Sakrattars and Amale were equipping their stolen gear. ¡°Jo?¡± she asked breathlessly.

    ¡°They were taken to the arena,¡± Sakrattars said, adjusting his wizard¡¯s robes around his frame. He took Bartholomew back from Kaja and stowed the toad in his hood.

    ¡°What is the arena?¡±

    Cheers sounded in the distance, accompanied by a deep rumble.

    ¡°That.¡± Sakrattars gestured vaguely. Kaja, more confused than ever, nodded gravely. Whatever that was, it didn¡¯t sound good.

    Khez loped past them, grabbing an odd tube of metal embedded in wood that had been left propped up outside. ¡°This better not have rusted!¡± she growled, inspecting it. ¡°Damned orcs have no appreciation for the craft.¡± A few of the orc prisoners shot irritated glances her way and she continued grumbling to herself in ferish. Her partner, shouldering a crossbow and a bulky short sword, tossed Khez an oiled bag. ¡°My powder!¡± Khez exclaimed, opening the pouch and grinning. ¡°And it¡¯s even dry. Might be able to get some vengeance on the way out after all.¡±

    Sakrattars lifted an eyebrow. ¡°What is that?¡± he asked.

    Khez smiled wide, her yellowed teeth glinting. She looked at Amale restringing his bow, and chuckled. ¡°You Imperials. So primitive. This is the future.¡± She patted the object lovingly. Sakrattars rolled his eyes and shrugged. He didn''t have time to argue for answers.

    Rearmed and re-equipped, the prisoners rallied in the center of the yard. Khez crawled on top of a stack of supply crates and raised her metal object into the air. ¡°Let¡¯s give Ironfang a gift to remember us by!¡± she cried. Ferix, orc, and Imperial all cheered as one, then charged through the fortress, stealing what they could and trashing what they couldn¡¯t.

    As the unlikely allies moved out, Kaja spotted a discarded roll from breakfast. She picked it up, dusted it off, and took an enthusiastic bite.

    *

    *

    Tullius¡¯ grip softened on the shoulder of the wounded legionnaire. He raised a bloodied hand, gently sliding his fingers over the soldier¡¯s face to close his eyes for the last time. He glanced up at Dimitri. Two of their number were now dead, claimed by Ironfang¡¯s savage menagerie, and there was no doubt that more were on the way. Dimitri glared down at the body then took a few bold steps forward.

    ¡°Ironfang! Let us end this farce of fighting beasts!¡± he cried in near perfect orcish, leveling the tip of his blade at the warlord. ¡°Face me yourself! I challenge you to veika¡ªsingle combat!¡±

    Gasps, jeers, and hollers rippled through the arena. The fact that an Imperial not only knew what veika was, but challenged Gorzog Ironfang himself to one was more exciting than any of them could have expected. Ironfang narrowed his eyes and stood. One of his daughters, the priestess, moved to stop him but he shoved her away. The heckling crowd only grew louder.

    ¡°What did you do?¡± Leif asked, unnerved by the sudden raucousness.

    ¡°I challenged Ironfang to a ritual duel.¡±

    Leif¡¯s mouth dropped open. ¡°You what?¡±

    Ironfang raised a hand and the crowd immediately quieted. ¡°I accept,¡± he said, to uproarious cheers. Dimitri took a deep breath, adjusting his grip on his sword as Ironfang pushed his way down to the pit. He knew that the warlord¡¯s pride would not allow him to refuse, lest he look weak in front of his army and lose their respect or, more importantly, their fear.

    Tullius rushed to Dimitri¡¯s side. ¡°Sir, please allow me to be your champion,¡± he urged. ¡°We can¡¯t afford to lose you.¡±

    Dimitri flashed a smile and hoped it looked more calm and confident than he was feeling. ¡°Have you so little faith in me, my friend?¡± he asked. Then his face grew serious. He held Tullius¡¯ shoulder and squeezed. ¡°I need you to coordinate the others in the event of my. . . failure. The instant you see an opportunity, run.¡±

    Tullius swallowed and nodded. ¡°Sir.¡±

    Subordinates scurried up to Ironfang, offering him a selection of weapons. He dismissed them angrily. ¡°Keep your sword,¡± he said to Dimitri while cracking his knuckles and flexing his fingers, ¡°but I will fight you with my bare hands.¡± The thundering rhythm of stomping feet shook the ground as Ironfang and Dimitri circled.

    ¡°I¡¯m stopping this,¡± Jo said, stepping forward. Tullius blocked her with an arm.

    ¡°We need to be ready,¡± he said.

    She scoffed. ¡°For what? His death?¡±

    Tullius didn¡¯t reply.

    Barzom ran a paw through his fur. ¡°Let no one say that the Imperial lacks moxie,¡± he said candidly.

    Dimitri lifted his rapier, holding it upright in front of his face. It was a traditional duelist¡¯s challenge, but it had the added benefit of hiding his prayer to Aegis. He lowered the sword, pointing it directly at Ironfang. His other hand went to his side. Applying pressure to the broken rib dulled the pain from a searing agony to an excruciating ache. It would have to do.

    Ironfang ignored Dimitri¡¯s threatening stance. He glanced up at the stands with a smug grin and his audience laughed. Dimitri couldn¡¯t help but smile too. Ironfang had them wrapped around his finger¡ªthat would make this all the sweeter.

    Dimitri lunged, thrusting forward. Ironfang parried the blade with the back of his hand, swatting it away like an insect. This drew derisive laughter from the stands. Dimitri regained his footing. He panted, gasping for breath, his vision swimming. The pain was extreme and the exhaustion from the previous fight was beginning to overwhelm him. The hand at his side clenched into a tight ball.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Ironfang said to one of his guards, ¡°come help the human stand up, neh? Maybe hold his little sword for him.¡±

    Dimitri dismissed the taunt and summoned the strength to keep up the offensive. Ironfang backed up, either smacking the sword away or turning to the side so the blows whiffed harmlessly past him. Every few strikes, he¡¯d take a potshot at Dimitri¡ªslapping him across the face, boxing his ears, or striking him in the gut. Dimitri knew he was being toyed with and the audience adored it. The chanting and stomping resumed; rocks and garbage rained down into the arena. Through it all, Dimitri kept swinging and Ironfang kept moving. Soon, much sooner than he would have liked, Dimitri slowed. The frenzied crowd could smell blood. It took every bit of Tullius¡¯ willpower to not ask Jo to help him intervene.

    Then, with a wet squish, Ironfang¡¯s boot sank into a slick puddle. The sole started to hiss and steam and searing pain shot up his leg. Trying to get away, he slipped in the ankheg¡¯s fluid and toppled to his back with a snarl. Dimitri moved like lightning. He sprinted forward and aimed his rapier, but Ironfang was far faster than anticipated. The warlord was on his knees in a moment, clapping both hands together, stopping the sword mere inches from his eyeball.

    With acid eating at his shins and blood running down his arms, Ironfang forced the blade away from his face. Dimitri knew he could never match Ironfang in a test of strength. He swiftly yanked his sword back, cutting deeper into Ironfang¡¯s palms. In the same motion, he slashed into the warlord¡¯s thigh, then used the follow-through to cut a gash across his unprotected face. Ironfang roared in fury. The crowd was silent, shocked by the unbelievable sight of their lord bleeding and on his knees before a wounded Imperial half his size.

    Seeing another opening, Dimitri stabbed once more. Ironfang twisted away and grabbed Dimitri¡¯s wrist. In one motion, Ironfang wrenched himself to his feet and slammed Dimitri¡¯s arm down onto his thigh. The rapier clattered uselessly to the ground. Fury burning on his blood-streaked face, Ironfang closed his fingers around Dimitri¡¯s throat. ¡°Nice try, but you lose,¡± he growled.

    ¡°Is this the best the Aurean Empire has?¡± he declared to the stands, lifting and shaking Dimitri like a doll. There were some jeers from the crowd, but not nearly as many as before. Dimitri grasped Ironfang¡¯s forearm with both hands, his feet struggling for purchase. A warm electricity blossomed under his skin, his swarthy complexion turning darker and redder by the second. The pain and lack of air dulled his senses, his vision began to fade¡ª

    Then came the sharp twang of bowstrings. Several of Ironfang¡¯s warriors keeled over where they stood, clutching arrow shafts protruding from their bodies. Immediately, the crowd began to scramble as commanders called for order. An explosion of fire and ice erupted at the arena entrance and the freed prisoners came flooding in through the fog with a cry.

    Caught unarmed and unaware, many of the spectators tried to flee to the weapons racks but were cut down on the way. Ironfang growled and threw Dimitri to the ground, demanding that his axe be brought to him. His guards circled around him protectively, shoving both friend and foe out of his way.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Leif shouted over the commotion. Before anyone could answer, a loud crack echoed through the air and two of Ironfang¡¯s personal guards fell, their flesh shredded and bleeding. ¡°Is that one of the fancy elf¡¯s spells?¡± Leif asked, looking to Jo for answers.

    ¡°That¡¯s no wizard¡¯s spell,¡± Barzom said proudly. ¡°That¡¯s our gunner.¡±

    Leif stared blankly. ¡°Gunner?¡±

    One of the freed ferix loped up to Barzom, delivering a message in ferish. Barzom turned back to Leif and Jo and grinned. ¡°You gonna keep acting like day-old cubs or are you coming with us?¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t leave Dimitri!¡± Tullius cried.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get him,¡± Jo replied quickly. ¡°You get out of here and find Kaja.¡±

    ¡°Kaja found us,¡± Leif said, pointing to where she and Sakrattars were standing back to back, casting spells of ice and fire against the horde.

    ¡°Well get them out of here!¡± Jo yelled. She ran to Dimitri¡¯s side and unceremoniously threw him over her shoulder like a sack of barley. He coughed and sputtered, blood dripping from the sides of his mouth.

    ¡°I can still. . . I have to finish this,¡± he said weakly.

    ¡°What are you gonna do, bleed on him?¡± Jo snorted. ¡°You¡¯ll do more good alive than dead.¡± Dimitri didn¡¯t say anything after that.

    There was another loud crack and a thin cloud of gray, acrid smoke plumed up from a vantage point above the stands. Ironfang grabbed his battle axe and ordered his daughters to find and recapture as many of the escaped prisoners as they could. Gorza glared at Aroga before heading out to do her part.

    Aroga watched the unfolding chaos dispassionately, then turned and walked calmly away. She stopped briefly and looked over at the white-haired girl. Through the havoc of metal and magic and moving bodies, their eyes met for an instant. The girl paused and watched to see what Aroga would do.

    Then, with a nod, Aroga left.

    If words and reason weren¡¯t enough to convince Gorza to leave the Irkallu, then that left only one option in Aroga¡¯s mind.

    The Irkallu had to be destroyed.

 Session 13 - Forgeheart

    Sakrattars wouldn¡¯t say that he regretted turning down the food they received in prison, but after three hungry days of traveling, his stomach, at least, was experiencing some remorse. It had been a narrow escape from Ironfang¡¯s fortress, even with the chaos of the prisoner riot covering their backs. Leo, the only legionnaire left alive besides Tullius, was convinced that it was Aegis¡¯ divine protection that saw them through. Sakrattars thought he may be right¡ªseveral of the prisoners had been killed or recaptured but everyone in their group survived.

    Fortunately, Barzom and the other Free Ferix who escaped allowed the companions to accompany them back to Forgeheart. The ferix navigated the land expertly, avoiding paths patrolled by brigands and known ankheg hunting grounds. Sakrattars didn¡¯t know what landmarks or cues the ferix were looking for, but it appeared to be working. To his eyes, the steppe looked exactly the same in every direction, with the only indication that they were headed the right way being the Grayspur mountains to the northwest.

    Fearing that Ironfang may send warg-riders after them, they had little time to rest or look for food. Not that there was much to be found. The steppe was lacking in edible plants and the only animals to be seen were field rats and small brown birds, both of whom were quick and not worth expending resources to catch. Following Barzom¡¯s instruction, the companions wrung fresh water from thick, spongy grass but it did little to fill their bellies.

    ¡°Maybe we should try the ankheg trail,¡± Leif said sullenly after one particularly loud stomach growl. ¡°What if they taste like ice crabs?¡±

    ¡°Even if we did kill one, I wouldn¡¯t eat it,¡± Khez replied. ¡°You pierce one of their venom sacs and the whole thing¡¯s ruined.¡±

    Leif groaned. ¡°I¡¯m at the point where I¡¯d take some chances.¡±

    ¡°Humans can live for weeks without food,¡± Sakrattars said. ¡°Your complaining is just making us all more miserable.¡±

    ¡°Well you both are making me miserable,¡± Jo grumbled.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to say ¡®I told you so¡¯ but. . .¡± Barzom flashed a carefree grin and shrugged. ¡°Food is scarce out here, especially going into winter. You learn to not be picky.¡±

    By the late afternoon, the haggard crew reached the outer limits of the Grayspurs and within striking distance of Forgeheart. A squad of ferix went scouting ahead while the rest sheltered in the shadow of a looming mountain. Kaja occupied herself with chasing little lizards through a rocky outcrop, her eyes glinting like a cat¡¯s. At one point, Sakrattars thought he saw a skinny tail disappear into her mouth and he turned away in a bizarre mixture of disgust and renewed hunger.

    When the scouts returned, they delivered a report to Barzom in muted ferish.

    ¡°The way to Forgeheart is clear of riders,¡± Barzom said. ¡°We¡¯ll loop up to the west entrance. The southern entrance is full of orcs.¡±

    That got Dimitri¡¯s attention. ¡°Orcs? This far north?¡± he asked, his voice raspy. He lay on a stretcher cobbled together from scrap wood and weapon shafts, but being dragged over the rough, hilly ground was just as bad as walking, and he wanted nothing more than a glass of strong spirits and a warm bed.

    ¡°Yeah. . .¡± Barzom sighed, running a paw across the back of his neck. ¡°Ironfang¡¯s got a little encampment set up out there. They can¡¯t breach the wall but their warg-riders make getting in and out of Forgeheart a pain in the ass.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no helping it, then,¡± Jo said. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    It was evening when the party arrived at the west gate. The orange light of the setting sun illuminated the blackened steel ramparts with an eerie flame-like glow. Spreading across the valley, Forgeheart resembled a fortified city more than an Imperial-style fortress. In the north, where the valley narrowed, multi-story buildings crawled up the mountainsides like metal vines, stretching well beyond the chilly, low-hanging mist. Dark smoke from dozens of fires billowed up over the rocky outer wall, cloaking the city in a dense smog. Sakrattars followed the smoke trail into the sky, taking in the sights with undisguised wonder, as Barzom and the others handled communications with the guards.

    Passing through the west gate, the companions entered a large, open field. A narrow road snaked through the rolling hills, leading to the inner wall. Flanking either side of the road were pastures of free-grazing animals¡ªthe same animals Ironfang¡¯s army used to pull their wagons. They were twice the size of a horse, with stout legs, long golden-brown hair, and a thick horn protruding from their noses. Some of them looked up as the party passed, but most kept their massive heads down in the grass. Amale looked at the creatures with interest.

    ¡°What are they?¡± Kaja asked.

    Barzom cocked his head and scratched the back of his neck. ¡°We call them¡±¡ªhe uttered a noise more akin to a growling rasp than a recognizable word¡ª¡°I don¡¯t know what they are in Imperial.¡±

    ¡°Steppeland rhinoceros,¡± Dimitri croaked. The climb to the west gate had damn near killed him but he wasn¡¯t about to ruin his entrance into Forgeheart by being a useless carcass.

    Barzom shrugged. ¡°Yeah, that. I guess.¡±

    ¡°They look mighty formidable,¡± Leif said. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to face them in a cavalry charge.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d think that just looking at ¡®em,¡± Barzom replied. ¡°But as war beasts, they¡¯re worse than useless. Any loud sound scares them to death and they¡¯ll trample anyone in their way. They¡¯re not very bright.¡±

    ¡°So why keep them?¡±

    ¡°Food, mostly. Though their hide and hair is useful too.¡± Barzom¡¯s blase expression took on an uncharacteristic gravity. ¡°There¡¯s not enough grass here to feed the herd through the winter, though. If you ask me, I think they plan on starving us out. Not even Ironfang would be insane enough to lay siege outright. Forgeheart¡¯s been here for centuries, and no one¡¯s ever breached the walls.¡±

    The companions traveled the rest of the way to the inner wall in silence. A sentry peered down at them, then signaled for the heavy gate to be opened. Leaving the tranquil calm of the pastures behind, the companions stepped into a chaotic urban landscape of crude metal, bustling bodies, and a cacophony of noise. A forge complex just within the gate echoed with the rhythmic impacts of dozens of smithy hammers, while steam vents whistled and whined. Sakrattars used a hand to fan away the hot, sulphuric haze belching from the smelters into the street.

    A group of ferix miners ambled by, every step resounding with a clanking thud on the metal walkway. They had pickaxes slung over their shoulders and chest harnesses set with a glowing orb at the breast that functioned like a lantern. Sparing the companions a quizzical look, they soon lost interest and turned down the northern road leading to a yawning tunnel carved into the sheer mountainside. Huge machines built into the cave mouth whirred and thrummed, exhaust hissing from their valves as chain belts hauled carriage-sized buckets of rock and ore up from the depths. The amount of ore they were pulling out was staggering¡ªnot only a testament to the richness of the mountains, but to the ferix¡¯s technological ingenuity.

    Beyond the mines and forges were a disarray of munitions stations, warehouses, makeshift habitations, and medical tents, all marked with simple colored banners flapping in the cold wind. Barzom called out a curt word and the medics in a nearby tent looked up. Upon registering the wounded, they rushed over and began helping the ferix to the treatment area.

    ¡°Pleasure,¡± Khez said, looking at Jo then Leif. With a terse nod, she followed her partner into one of the medic¡¯s tents. Sakrattars pursed his lips. He didn¡¯t get on with Khez, but he still felt the sting of rejection.

    Barzom growled after the retreating medics in heated ferish. He gestured to Dimitri, who was now barely conscious, his face pale. After an exchange of unpleasantries and bared teeth, the medics relented and carried Dimitri¡¯s stretcher into the tent. Tullius and Leo dutifully followed.

    Barzom grunted. ¡°Red Paw Clan. Stubborn as rocks, the lot of them. Only agreed to treat him when I mentioned what he did against Ironfang. Come on, let¡¯s find you a billet somewhere.¡± He waved them onward.

    ¡°Red Paw Clan?¡± Leif asked.

    Barzom¡¯s ear twitched and his expression soured again. ¡°Best surgeons in Calthia, but it¡¯s gone to their heads if you ask me. A lowly scout from the Blue Shield Clan asking them to treat a human? You¡¯d think I asked them to wallow in rhino shit.¡± He chuffed. ¡°But all clans are equal in Forgeheart and all that. Really sticks in their craw.¡±

    Sakrattars thought back to the briefing Dimitri had given them early on in their journey. The Free Ferix weren¡¯t formally united, rather they were a haphazard collection of different clans who, out of shared necessity, fled from their homes across the Steppes to Forgeheart. Within the sanctity of the walls, all disputes were forgotten and fights between its inhabitants were strictly forbidden. But that didn¡¯t mean that everyone got along, just that their disagreements were expressed with dirty looks and snide remarks rather than with blood. It reminded Sakrattars of politics at home in Arvisian Bay.

    Leif rubbed his chin. ¡°So if all clans are equal here, then how was your leader chosen?¡±

    Barzom gave him a puzzled look. ¡°Vyrkad was the best at it,¡± he said. ¡°How do you do it?¡±

    ¡°Not like that,¡± Sakrattars said dryly.

    ¡°Hm. No wonder you¡¯ve got problems.¡±

    Sakrattars wanted to point out that the Free Ferix had plenty of problems too but decided it was best to stay quiet. This was a diplomatic trip, after all, and he didn¡¯t want to jeopardize Dimitri¡¯s mission.

    The roadway soon opened up into a plaza, roofed in the ubiquitous sheet metal, where a few dozen cubs were attending a lesson taught by a gray-muzzled teacher. He pointed to complex equations written on a black-stone chalkboard as the young cubs squirmed in their seats. Sakrattars recognized the equations as chemical formulas, though the elements they described were unfamiliar.

    Once one cub noticed the newcomers, the entire class rushed out with a squeal, crowding around the companions, chattering excitedly in ferish, and tugging at the party¡¯s gear while yelling questions over one another. The teacher banged a metal-coated forearm against one of the pillars holding up the plaza roof but it did little to sway the cubs¡¯ enthusiasm. Only after Barzom growled and bared his fangs were they sufficiently cowed and reluctantly retreated back to their lessons. One lingered behind, then stuck out his tongue and scampered off.

    The teacher picked up a marble of chalk to resume the lesson, and Sakrattars realized that his arm wasn¡¯t covered in armor¡ªit was a real, working metal limb. Imperial soldiers were sometimes fitted with wooden prosthetics, but even the finest were crude devices with pulleys and switches that had to be worked manually. The teacher¡¯s metal prosthesis operated as naturally as flesh, save for the whirring gears and hiss of steam venting from the underside.

    Was it magic? Perhaps it was like the constructs that the late Ordo Draconis agent, Feriel, and her daughter, Saara, built. But constructs were programmed to work in specific ways and required some amount of puppeteering, and Sakrattars didn¡¯t know any spells capable of organic movement. The ferix didn¡¯t seem to subscribe to Thosian magical theory anyway. Indeed, the ferix didn¡¯t appear to worship any deities, magical or otherwise. If they dabbled in magic, it was a type completely foreign to Sakrattars and his wizarding peers.

    A steam whistle sounded, startling Sakrattars from his thoughts, and a pack of cubs bounded out of an adjacent building. With his pupils distracted for a second time, the teacher grumbled under his breath and began banging his arm against the pillar once more.

    ¡°Tordom!¡± Barzom called. Hearing his name, a cream-colored cub separated from the rest with a shrill yelp. Barzom kneeled and the two collided in an affectionate embrace, rubbing their heads together and purring loudly.

    ¡°Your son?¡± Jo asked.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Barzom planted a paw between Tordom¡¯s ears and ruffled his fur. Tordom whispered a question in ferish, looking the motley crew up and down. Though wary, he couldn¡¯t disguise his burning curiosity.

    ¡°They¡¯re from the Aurean Empire,¡± Barzom replied in Imperial Common, ¡°they want to talk to Vyrkad.¡±

    Tordom¡¯s ears perked. He couldn¡¯t hold himself back any longer. ¡°Wow! You came from all the way across the grassland? You¡¯re shorter and skinnier than I thought you¡¯d be. Well except for the tall one with the stripes.¡± He looked at Amale without pausing for breath. ¡°Is this your dog? Do they walk on two legs in the south? They walk on four legs up here.¡± Amale¡¯s ears flattened. He was already having a hard time in such a crowded, industrial place and being called a ¡°dog¡± wasn¡¯t helping his mood.

    ¡°Tordom. . .¡± Barzom warned.

    Taking his father¡¯s chastising in stride, Tordom turned to Kaja. ¡°You¡¯re a cub, right? I¡¯m Tordom,¡± he said cheerfully.

    Jo nudged Kaja. She held out a hand the way she had seen Dimitri doing when meeting new people. ¡°Kaja,¡± she said meekly. Tordom swatted her hand playfully, and she withdrew it, confused.

    ¡°You should come see the others,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t get to meet a human cub every day.¡±

    Thinking it unlikely that any Irkallu-related threats could be hiding in Forgeheart¡¯s walls, Jo nodded. ¡°Go on with him,¡± she encouraged.

    ¡°But I¡¯m not a cub,¡± Kaja said earnestly, ¡°or a¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not?¡± Tordom interrupted, much to the relief of the companions. ¡°Sorry, I thought since you were the littlest. . .¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s asking if you¡¯re a kid,¡± Barzom laughed. ¡°Go have fun.¡±

    Kaja brightened, the misunderstanding clearing. ¡°Okay,¡± she said and took off with Tordom towards the temporary creche.

    ¡°Don¡¯t stay out too late!¡± Barzom called after them. ¡°And bring her back to the Blue Shield barracks!¡±

    Sakrattars watched Kaja and Tordom go, his eyes unfocused. How much did that small cub know that would shatter the limits of what Imperial scholars thought was feasible? As a child of a wealthy merchant and influential politician, Sakrattars received an elite education, yet his brain was a jumbled up mess of new information¡ªimpossibly tall buildings, mysterious chemical equations, and working limbs made of metal. He always thought of himself as a worldly, well-read elf, but being in Forgeheart made him feel small and ignorant.

    ¡°Hey! Fancy elf! You gonna join the children or are you coming with us?¡± Leif asked with a laugh.

    Sakrattars scoffed and quickened his pace to catch up. ¡°At least the children could provide me with intelligent conversation,¡± he retorted, ¡°and stop calling me ¡®fancy elf¡¯.¡±

    Leif looked back and held a hand over his heart. ¡°Always so mean,¡± he laughed again. When he turned forward, he collided into the great, furred back of a strange ferix. She whipped around in a snarl. Her face was crisscrossed with scars and one of her eyes was missing, the lid sewn shut long ago.

    ¡°Hey! You better watch out, human,¡± she growled, prodding Leif¡¯s chest with a clawed finger.

    Sakrattars tried to usher Leif away. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he apologized quickly, avoiding eye contact, ¡°this man here, he doesn¡¯t¡ª¡± The rest of his words were cut off when Leif pushed against him and poked the offended ferix back.

    ¡°Hey!¡± he said assertively. ¡°I think you¡¯d better watch out, kitty cat!¡±

    The ferix grabbed Leif by the collar, lifting him off his feet. Sakrattars¡¯ blood ran cold; he was certain that he was about to watch Leif get skewed on a set of ferix claws. He searched frantically for the others, but they had gone on ahead and were just now noticing that Sakrattars and Leif were missing.

    ¡°Oh yeah? And why¡¯s that?¡± the ferix asked, leaning close and snorting hot breath into Leif¡¯s face.

    Leif hacked and sputtered. ¡°Because¡±¡ªhe wheezed¡ª¡°I¡¯m all stringy. I¡¯ll stick in your teeth.¡± He flashed a fierce grin.

    After a heart-stopping moment, the ferix let out a pleased chuckle. She put Leif back down and thumped him on the chest, a friendly blow that sent him staggering. ¡°I like this one,¡± she said to Barzom. When she left, all eyes turned to Leif.

    He rubbed at the red mark on his neck and grinned sheepishly. ¡°This place is exciting, isn¡¯t it?¡± Neither Amale nor Sakrattars found the humor in the situation, and Jo just smiled in silent amusement. ¡°Right,¡± Leif said, coughing, ¡°so about that billet. . .¡±

    *

    *

    Though he had only a head of height on her, Kaja struggled to keep up with Tordom¡¯s long, easy strides. He loped along free and unencumbered, while she was bogged down by skirts and the awkwardness of holding her hood tight over her horns.

    The last remnants of the sun disappeared below the horizon and the cloudy sky turned dark gray, blanketing Forgeheart in shadow. As if sensing the lack of light, metal lanterns lining the path flickered on. Kaja had always seen Imperial street lamps lit manually, except for the magical lights in Aurea¡¯s Undertown. Perhaps these ferix lights were magical too.

    ¡°Hey guys!¡± Tordom yelled, waving a paw to catch the attention of his friends. The cubs immediately swarmed Kaja, who tried unsuccessfully to shy away from the attention. ¡°Her name is Kaja,¡± Tordom continued confidently. ¡°And she doesn¡¯t know ferish so use your Imperial.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a human?¡± one asked.

    ¡°Are the Imperials gonna fight the orcs?¡± another cried.

    ¡°Is it cold without fur?¡±

    Kaja swallowed, her heart beating faster. She was grateful when Tordom commanded the attention back.

    ¡°Let¡¯s give her a ferix welcome,¡± Tordom declared. ¡°Shieldwall!¡± The cubs cheered and echoed ¡°Shieldwall!¡±.

    Even though she didn¡¯t know what ¡°shieldwall¡± was, Kaja followed Tordom and the others to a side yard. A pair of small, horned rabbits that had been enjoying the grass scampered between the buildings when the cubs approached.

    ¡°I¡¯m captain!¡± one cub called.

    ¡°Okay, then I¡¯m the other captain,¡± Tordom said. ¡°Let¡¯s pick teams. You first.¡± The rest of the cubs clumped together in front of the two self-proclaimed leaders, each jostling and going up on tiptoes to get the attention of the choosing captain.

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Okay ummm. . . Nauvhall, you¡¯re on my team!¡±

    Tordom pointed into the crowd. ¡°Then I pick. . . Utbiel!¡± The chosen cub pushed the others aside to make his way to Tordom¡¯s side.

    Kaja had no idea what she should be doing. Was she supposed to be shoving and yelping like the cubs? Was that shieldwall? She didn¡¯t really want to do that; it didn¡¯t seem as fun as they were making it out to be. But she also knew that Dimitri was there to make friends with the ferix and she didn¡¯t want to ruin it by not being friends with them. She looked down at her hand, the hand she used to take the Oath with Saara and Osric, and suddenly missed them terribly. They were the first friends she had made since¡ª

    ¡°I pick the girl!¡±

    Yanked from the haze of confusion and memories, Kaja looked up to see every eye on her. Her face flushed. ¡°H-huh?¡± she stammered.

    ¡°I said I pick you, human girl!¡± the other captain reiterated, pointing at her. Half the cubs still hadn¡¯t been chosen. Why had he picked her?

    Seeing her hesitate, Tordom nudged her forward. ¡°Go stand with your team. When we¡¯re done, we¡¯ll start the game.¡±

    Kaja went to stand with her new team, her hands working at her cloak in worry. So shieldwall was a game. The cubs, though scruffy and lanky, looked tough and all of them were bigger than Kaja was. She wanted to ask what the rules of the game were, but ended up staying quiet.

    The rest of the picking process went quickly, and before long a few of the cubs had fetched a pile of crude wooden shields. When the captains started passing them out, the others began pushing and shoving again to get the best ones. Kaja knew she should probably get one too, but she also didn¡¯t want to get caught up in the fray.

    Seeing her singled out again, Tordom walked a shield over to her. ¡°Here, you put it on like this,¡± he said. He slid his arm through the loops, and pulled them tight. ¡°See? It¡¯s not going anywhere,¡± he said, shaking his arm to show it was true.

    Kaja slowly reached out her arm and Tordom helped her to adjust the straps. She had seen Leif use his shield before, but he always had an axe too. She didn¡¯t have an axe.

    ¡°Line up!¡±

    The cubs arranged themselves into two lines, assembling into practiced rows of ordered ranks. It all happened so fast, Kaja was left in the open space between them.

    ¡°Kaja! Get in line!¡± Tordom whispered.

    She scurried over to stand next to him.

    ¡°No, on the other side!¡±

    She switched sides, but couldn¡¯t find an opening. The cubs had their shields overlapping, creating a solid wall of wood and bodies.

    ¡°Let her in, you stink-heads!¡± Tordom said, curling his lip over his fangs. The cubs grumbled and made a space in the center of the line, but it wasn¡¯t big enough for her to fully slot into. Standing awkwardly with the larger cubs behind her shoulders, Kaja mimicked them and raised her shield arm. ¡°Okay, hold on tight!¡± Tordom said.

    ¡°Wha¡ªwhy?¡± But Kaja¡¯s voice was overshadowed by another cub shouting: ¡°charge!¡±

    With an exchange of snarls and jeers, the two lines crashed together, wood clacking and clattering as shield met shield. Kaja was carried along by the cubs on her team like a leaf caught on an ocean wave. Her shield made contact with Tordom¡¯s. ¡°Okay, now push!¡± he cried excitedly. ¡°See if your army can beat ours!¡±

    Kaja dug her feet into the cold grass. She scrabbled and scraped, leaning her full weight against the shield. But no matter what she did, she couldn¡¯t make headway; nor could she retreat with the other cubs pushing her forward with all their might. Both teams were hurling rude words and laughing, but Kaja wasn¡¯t enjoying herself at all. There were too many voices, too many kids she didn¡¯t know, and she felt like she was trapped.

    Just when she thought she¡¯d pass out from lack of breath, her team¡¯s line loosened. Sensing weakness, Tordom¡¯s army pressed forward with more force and a few cubs to Kaja¡¯s right toppled over, opening a gap. She tried to escape before the others could fill in but Tordom was pushing on her shield too hard and, the moment she relented, they both went sailing into the grass.

    Tordom tried to get off of her but the cubs were packed too tightly together for him to get up. Clawed feet trampled the grass, tails swished back and forth, shields collided. Kaja wanted it to stop but she couldn¡¯t remember the word for it in Imperial Common. Her breath quickened and Tordom¡¯s weight made the feeling of suffocation worse. It was hot, it was confusing, it was scary. She needed it to stop.

    Dragon magic surged through her veins and crackled like lightning across her skin. Tordom¡¯s yellow eyes went wide but he didn¡¯t have time to react. The temperature plummeted and an explosion of hoarfrost spread across the shields of the closer cubs. Terror and confusion took hold as the cubs scattered out of their ranks, some clawing the frozen shields off their arms in a panic.

    A primal fear gripped Tordom like icy talons closing around his heart. He yelped and threw himself into the frosted grass. His ice-coated shield forgotten, he raised his paws to ward Kaja away. ¡°You¡¯re a m-monster!¡± he sobbed as he scuffled backwards. ¡°Please don¡¯t hurt me. I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry. . . don¡¯t hurt me.¡±

    At that moment, everything ceased. The threat had gone, and the only thing Kaja felt was guilt. She rose to a kneel, turning her gaze towards Tordom but he refused to look at her. A single tear dampened the fur on his cheek. The same expression of confusion and fear was on every face of every cub around her. It was then she realized that her hood had fallen around her shoulders, exposing her horns.

    Her chest tight, Kaja scrambled to her feet. She jerked up her hood, glanced at Tordom one last time, then took off into the streets of Forgeheart.

    *

    *

    ¡°By Orvim¡¯s axe, I¡¯d kill for a dried herring right now,¡± Leif grumbled. He leaned back in his chair, boots on the table, and clutched his growling stomach.

    Amale flattened his ears and shot him a dirty look.

    ¡°I know, I know,¡± Leif snapped. ¡°We¡¯re all hungry and talking about it makes it worse. Got it, yeah.¡± He lowered his feet and shifted his weight forward, bringing the chair legs down with a thud.

    Amale rolled his eyes and returned to rifling through his med kit. He had checked the kit five times already, but there was nothing else to do except lie awake and think about his empty belly.

    After they parted with Kaja, Barzom found a quartermaster who offered them an apartment that wasn¡¯t being used. Though the furniture was bare and dusty, it had beds¡ªbeds big enough for Jo, for which she was grateful¡ªand it was warm. In the morning, they¡¯d be brought before Vyrkad Gleamgear, but with Kaja still out with Barzom¡¯s son, it didn¡¯t feel right retiring for the night until she was safely back.

    Jo pressed against the barred glass window. ¡°Maybe I should go look for her,¡± she said.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯s fine,¡± Sakrattars said, his gaze flicking up from his spellbook. ¡°You let her go out with Saara in Barsicum and she came back in one piece.¡± Jo frowned, her eyes darkening. Ignoring the look, Sakrattars went back to his reading.

    Jo returned to the window in silence. A few moments later, she sat bolt upright with a gasp. ¡°It¡¯s her! Wait. . . is she. . ?¡± Jo rushed to the door and opened it just as Kaja shoved her way through. Without offering or waiting for a greeting, Kaja darted into the nearest bedroom and slammed the door.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Leif started from the sudden noise. ¡°Is she ok?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll check,¡± Jo said grimly.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Sakrattars said, holding out a hand. Jo gave him a withering look but he swallowed and continued, ¡°it might be good to give her time to herself.¡± He didn¡¯t want to say that he instantly recognized her expression from his own childhood¡ªback when his classmates would pick on him, calling him a liar and a show off. There were days he stormed home just like that and didn¡¯t want to see or talk to anyone.

    Kaja sniffed loudly behind the door. Jo wanted nothing more than to go to her but she also remembered what it had been like at Kaja¡¯s age. ¡°Fine,¡± she said, crossing her arms and sitting down hard. After that, no one said anything.

    Eventually the noise inside the bedroom stopped. The door creaked open and Kaja peered out of the darkness. ¡°I didn¡¯t know where you were,¡± she accused curtly. ¡°I kept asking but no one could understand me and I couldn¡¯t understand them and I didn¡¯t know how to get here.¡±

    ¡°Tordom was supposed to bring you¡ª¡± Jo immediately knew that she said the wrong thing. Kaja¡¯s lips pursed into a thin line and she looked like she was about to cry again. Not being able to find her way to the Blue Shield barracks was not the reason she was so upset. Jo softened her tone. ¡°Do you wanna talk about it?¡± Kaja lowered her gaze.

    Amale rose to his feet. ¡°Fresh air,¡± he said.

    ¡°Now?¡± Leif quirked an eyebrow. Amale kicked his shin under the table. ¡°Ohh,¡± he said. ¡°Alright! Fancy elf, you too. Time for a little boy¡¯s night.¡±

    Once the three of them left, Kaja opened the bedroom door completely and took a seat across from Jo. She stared at her lap and picked at the hem of her skirts.

    ¡°I hurt Tordom,¡± she whispered. Between the surprising words and the volume she said them, Jo thought that she misheard. But then Kaja continued, ¡°I hurt Tordom and the cubs hate me and Barzom will be mad at me. What if I make the ferix hate Dimitri? What if he can¡¯t save everyone anymore because of me?¡±

    Jo reached across the table and held Kaja¡¯s hand. ¡°That¡¯s not going to happen,¡± she said reassuringly. ¡°Did you hurt Tordom on purpose?¡±

    Kaja shook her head vehemently.

    ¡°Then it was an accident. Whatever happened can be fixed with an apology tomorrow.¡±

    Kaja nodded, but it was unconvincing. ¡°I¡¯m going to bed,¡± she said, standing. She paused in the doorway and turned. Jo smiled and Kaja forced a small smile back. When the door shut, Jo¡¯s face fell into a frown. This went beyond a spat between children. Dimitri¡¯s diplomatic mission was a matter that shouldn¡¯t involve Kaja, much less cause her anxiety.

    Jo was worried that she had just seen more of Kaja¡¯s childhood slip away.

    *

    *

    The next morning, there was a knock on the front door. Each of the companions had slept poorly, so it was a very sullen-eyed Leif who finally answered. He was shocked to see Dimitri, hale and hearty, standing outside.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to see you so soon,¡± he said with a yawn. After all, the last time Leif had seen Dimitri was just yesterday, when he was hauled half-conscious into a medical tent.

    ¡°The ferix aren¡¯t just geniuses with metal and wheels,¡± Dimitri said, stepping inside. ¡°They¡¯re capable surgeons too.¡± Amale¡¯s ears perked up as he leaned around to get a better look. Dimitri tapped on his chest, where his broken rib had been. ¡°I¡¯ve got a plate and a few bolts of ferix metal holding it together now. Going to be a bit of a shock for the next Irkallu agent who tries to stab me, heh?¡± he said with a laugh.

    Leif didn¡¯t laugh. A Volgarian now had steel in his chest, and Leif did not. The gods were so unfair.

    Dimitri took the silence as an invitation to continue. ¡°Which brings me to our business for today. Vyrkad Gleamgear is waiting for us,¡± he said. ¡°I know you¡¯ve had a difficult journey, but I need some of you to come with me. I don¡¯t want to show up there flanked by nothing but Imperial legionnaires.¡± He jerked a thumb over to where Tullius and Leo were waiting in the street with their ferix escort. ¡°I¡¯m sure you know how that¡¯d look.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll go,¡± Jo said. She cast a hesitant glance at the one bedroom door that remained shut, and lowered her voice. ¡°Kaja had a problem with the cubs last night. She¡¯s not gonna want to come.¡±

    Dimitri reasoned that Kaja probably wouldn¡¯t contribute much to the negotiations, so he didn¡¯t see the harm in leaving her behind. Jo peeked in to make sure she was okay, and they headed out.

    After experiencing the rugged efficiency of ferix life, Sakrattars didn¡¯t expect to be received in a lavish palace full of pomp and gold. But he did expect to meet Vyrkad in some kind of war room or office or even a personal tent¡ªand definitely not on one of the many humble training fields between the walls.

    As the escort led them across just such a field, mossy gravel crunched beneath their boots. On the farside of the field, along the outer edge of a curtain wall, dirt had been piled high to make thick embankments. They reminded Sakrattars of the earthwork fortifications in the old histories describing Imperial conquests in Balthissica and Datharia. Why these mounds would be on the inside of the wall, however, he could not say. Ferix soldiers sparred in the open, kicking up rocks and clods of frozen mud as they pushed shield-against-shield or wrestled bodily.

    ¡°Reminds me of home,¡± Tullius said. ¡°No matter where you go, training fields are the same.¡± He took a deep breath of the chilly air, laced with the scent of sweat and weapon polish. Sakrattars was somewhat skeptical of the captain¡¯s comment but he kept it to himself; he was busy keeping a lookout for Vyrkad. He didn¡¯t know what he looked like, but he figured he¡¯d be the biggest, toughest ferix in the fanciest armor.

    The escort brought them to a line of wheeled contraptions covered by frosty canvas. Several workers in soot-streaked aprons were polishing the wheels or on their backs in the mud, twisting wrenches and pounding mallets. None of them looked particularly lordly.

    ¡°Vyrkad, I¡¯ve brought the outsiders,¡± the escort said.

    One of the workers, of average build and with a torn left ear, looked up. He stood, wiped his paws on the canvas, and shook the grime out of his black and gray fur. After looking the companions up and down, he gave a nod to dismiss the escort. The soldier seemed happy to leave.

    ¡°My scout, Barzom, tells me you wanted to talk?¡± Vyrkad said, looking between each of them in turn. Jo was the only one who could look him in the eye, the others had to crane their necks.

    ¡°Yes. . . uh. . . your lordship,¡± Dimitri said, erring on the side of cautious politeness. Vyrkad rolled his eyes but said nothing. ¡°My name is Dimitri Vasiliyev. These are my companions,¡± he said with a brief introduction for each. ¡°We¡¯ve come on behalf of Emperor Caius Balthus Aurelia of Aurea, seeking an alliance with the Free Ferix Legions.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    Dimitri waited, expecting Vyrkad to continue, but the old ferix just looked at him dispassionately. ¡°Yes,¡± Dimitri said, hoping he hadn¡¯t lost all momentum. ¡°I know your people are suffering out here. Mine are suffering back home. We both face formidable enemies, and I believe we can help each other.¡±

    ¡°Oh good,¡± Vyrkad said acidly. ¡°So an Imperial legion is almost here to kill Ironfang and rebuild our villages?¡±

    ¡°Well, no,¡± Dimitri replied, ¡°but we can have one sent here to assist you if you and I can come to terms. We¡¯re prepared to offer your people sanctuary within our borders. There are territories in Datharia, or even Taracosia, where you could settle down. You could build farms, start communities. I can arrange it all.¡±

    Sakrattars chewed his lip. He didn¡¯t need divination magic to know that what Dimitri was offering would be incredibly hard to sell to the Imperial nobles lording over those provinces. He couldn¡¯t imagine a world where Dimitri had received clearance to use their land as a bargaining chip.

    Vyrkad, for his part, seemed to be thinking the same thing. ¡°Right. I¡¯m sure that would go very smoothly,¡± he said, scratching his chin idly. ¡°Now¡¯s the part where you tell me what you want in exchange.¡±

    A sudden crackle of sharp reports startled the companions, but Vyrkad and the other ferix remained unmoved. Nearby, a line of gunners repositioned their smoking rifles, while another inspected the newly gouged craters in the earthen ramparts. The party had traveled with Khez and her rifle for several days across the steppeland, but the idea of guns and gunshots still alarmed them.

    ¡°Weapons,¡± Dimitri said, watching one gunner reload the breech of his rifle. ¡°Your weapons technology is far ahead of ours, and the Empire is in dire straits. We need every edge we can possibly get.¡±

    Vyrkad chuffed. ¡°Got it. We get farms. You get weapons. You use our weapons to take back our farms.¡± Dimitri could smell the black powder residue clinging to Vyrkad¡¯s fur as he leaned in close. ¡°I¡¯ve taken more than one orc sword to the head,¡± Vrykad said, ¡°but not enough to get fooled so easily.¡±

    Dimitri clenched his jaw, grasping for ways to salvage the situation. ¡°Your lord¡ªuh, Vyrkad,¡± he said quickly. ¡°Your people are strong. I saw the forges running, I saw the mines working, I saw your youth learning your arts to carry them forward to the next generation. Ironfang is in for the fight of his life if he attacks you here.¡± He paused and smiled derisively. ¡°But the strongest warrior can still starve. You and your people deserve better than that, and here I am, offering it. Outright refusal is foolish. I thought better of you than that.¡±

    A tingle surged down Sakrattars¡¯ spine. The last thing they needed was to have the leader of the Free Ferix out for their blood. He glanced at Leif who, while impressed by Dimitri¡¯s gall, had lowered his hand to rest on the head of his axe.

    Vyrkad wasn¡¯t fazed, but nor was he angry. ¡°You do have a point,¡± he admitted coolly.

    ¡°Does this mean you¡¯ll consider the alliance?¡± Dimitri asked.

    Vyrkad chuffed again but his expression remained grim. ¡°The Empire is no friend of ours, but all of our other friends are dead,¡± he said. ¡°I suppose we have no choice.¡±

    ¡°Is that a ¡®yes¡¯?¡±

    ¡°With conditions.¡± Vrykad waved his paw dismissively. ¡°You have your wants and we have ours.¡±

    Dimitri shifted his weight, hoping his anxiety didn¡¯t show. ¡°Conditions?¡±

    Vyrkad nodded. ¡°The Free Ferix are exhausted and our supplies dwindle. There¡¯s a good chance that by the time your Emperor rallies his legion, those bloodfly maggots out there¡±¡ªhe gestured vaguely towards the southern gate¡ª¡°will have worn us down, with or without Ironfang¡¯s main army. Put simply, we need help now.¡±

    ¡°And what can we do now?¡± Dimitri asked, taking quick stock of his surviving companions. Of the fifteen who left Datharia, only eight were still alive and most of them were wounded in some capacity. He didn¡¯t imagine there was much they could help with.

    Vyrkad grumbled. ¡°I understand you have a. . . wizard in your ranks.¡±

    Sakrattars, not expecting to be involved in the discussion at all, was taken completely off guard. He straightened up and smoothed out his robes. ¡°I am,¡± he said, feeling a nervous jitter when Vyrkad turned his feline-gaze on him.

    ¡°There¡¯s a magic user, a human, living in the mountains near one of our remote mines. We don¡¯t know where he came from, but if he¡¯s one of yours we would appreciate his help while we wait for word from Aurea.¡±

    Sakrattars¡¯ eyes went wide. ¡°You. . . want me to go speak with him?¡± Immediately all kinds of possibilities started playing out in his mind. Was this ¡°magic user¡± a professor from the Academia Arcana on a research expedition? Or perhaps he was a rogue wizard¡ªa lone wolf conducting illicit experiments out of the Empire¡¯s reach? It could be dangerous, but Vyrkad had asked him specifically to carry out this important task and his pride would take a hit if he turned it down. ¡°I will try,¡± he said.

    Dimitri sighed with relief. ¡°We¡¯ll leave as soon as we¡¯re able¡ª¡±

    Vyrkad raised a paw to stop him. ¡°There is a second task. One of our outer garrisons was overrun days ago. They had three cannons, which are now certainly in the orcs¡¯ filthy hands. I want a few of you to go with Barzom and disable them.¡± As if sensing their questions, Vyrkad pulled the canvas cover off of the object he had been working on, revealing a giant wheeled rifle. Like the handheld rifle, it utilized explosive powder but unlike the rifle, it fired balls of metal the size of Jo¡¯s fist. A pile of them were stacked nearby¡ªcast from the same formidable metal as Forgeheart itself. Vyrkad patted the cannon lovingly. ¡°A shot from this could shatter a dragon¡¯s breastbone,¡± he said. ¡°We can¡¯t risk those curs figuring out how to fire them.¡±

    ¡°Why not send a team of ferix?¡± Dimitri asked.

    ¡°Humans are smaller, harder to see,¡± Vyrkad said. ¡°And you wanted to know how you could help us. Well, this is it.¡±

    Dimitri looked to the others for input.

    ¡°If small is what you¡¯re looking for, then I should go with the elf,¡± Jo said. ¡°Kaja will too.¡± She did her best to ignore the shocked look Sakrattars was giving her, but her reasoning was really quite simple: some of Ironfang¡¯s forces knew who Kaja was and Jo didn¡¯t want her anywhere near the front lines because of it. The mountains were dangerous, but they were familiar, and Jo felt confident she could adequately protect Kaja out there. Besides, she had seen Sakrattars¡¯ ¡°survival skills¡± and knew that the pampered city elf would be helpless in the wilderness without them.

    ¡°Then I¡¯d like to request Leif and Amale come with me and Barzom,¡± Dimitri said. ¡°Their experience in Balthissica could prove useful.¡±

    Leif looked at him strangely. ¡°I suppose. . .¡± he said.

    Of course, Dimitri couldn''t voice his true line of thinking. He knew that Jo wouldn¡¯t hesitate to take Kaja and leave him, the Ordo Draconis, and the Free Ferix behind. But he was less certain that she would leave Leif and Amale. He couldn¡¯t risk losing Kaja, not when the stakes were so great.

    ¡°We''ll come as well,¡± Tullius said. Leo nodded.

    ¡°No,¡± Vyrkad said. ¡°I want the legionnaires to stay here. Call it insurance.¡± Dimitri couldn¡¯t fault Vyrkad for his caution. The Empire had a history of overpromising and under-delivering, as several of its former territories could attest. And wasn¡¯t Dimitri using Leif and Amale for the same purpose? He could hardly point fingers. He was just grateful that Vyrkad was open to the proposal at all.

    ¡°We¡¯ll take care of it then. Do we have a deal?¡± Dimitri said, extending his hand.

    Vyrkad looked down at the hand as if Dimitri were handing him an insect. ¡°Yes,¡± he said. Then he slid back under the cannon and picked up where he left off.

    Technically the negotiation had been a success, but as Dimitri left the training field it certainly didn¡¯t feel that way. He rubbed his chest, relieving the dull ache from the recent surgery, and mulled over his new mission.

    The metal rib would be tested sooner than he thought.

    *

    *

    Kaja peeked out the window and watched the ferix below come and go on their daily tasks. There wasn¡¯t any food in the apartment but she also didn¡¯t want to leave. Luckily, she managed to catch a large bug before it could scurry under the floorboards so she was doing alright for now.

    Before long, she spotted a group of familiar faces coming down the street and her eyes went wide. It was Tordom and a few of the cubs from the play yard. What were they doing here? Kaja dashed away from the window, not sure if she should hide, or sneak out the back, or try to scare them off again. She was still deliberating when a knock came at the door. She stared, not moving. Tordom knocked again. When there was still no answer, he called through the wood. ¡°Kaja? Are you there?¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    ¡°Please, I just want to talk.¡±

    Seeing that he wasn¡¯t going to go away, she slipped on her cloak and opened the door a tiny crack.

    Tordom leaned down so they could be eye-to-eye. ¡°Hey, Kaja. . . um, can we come in?¡±

    Kaja shook her head.

    ¡°Oh, well. . . okay,¡± he said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. ¡°I just wanted to say I¡¯m sorry. For calling you. . . that,¡± he said, clasping his paws behind his back and looking down at his feet. ¡°It was a really bad, mean thing to say and I¡¯m sorry. Uh, again.¡±

    Kaja blinked, not quite sure how to respond.

    ¡°If it¡¯s okay, can we all be friends again?¡± he asked. The other cubs nodded along.

    Guilt and shame and fear still swirled around in her stomach but it didn¡¯t feel right to reject Tordom when he went out of his way to come see her. ¡°I¡¯m sorry too,¡± she said, remembering Jo¡¯s words from the night before. ¡°I was scared and I didn¡¯t know what to do. I didn¡¯t mean to hurt you.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Tordom said. ¡°So, friends?¡±

    Kaja nodded and the cubs brightened, purrs rumbling in their throats.

    ¡°So, um, do you wanna come out to play?¡± Tordom ventured. ¡°You can pick the game¡ªwe won¡¯t play Shieldwall this time,¡± he added with a toothy grin. The other cubs giggled.

    The door creaked open all the way and Kaja joined them outside. ¡°Okay,¡± she said with a shy smile. She still felt bad but it was better than the way she had been feeling.

    ¡°Yeah!¡± Tordom cheered. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±

    As the children jogged down the street together, they zipped past the companions returning from their meeting with Vyrkad. Kaja gave Jo a little wave before vanishing around a corner.

    Dimitri laughed. ¡°Maybe I should have brought her to Vyrkad after all,¡± he said. ¡°She¡¯s better at making friends than I am.¡±

 Session 14 - Starfire

    ¡°If you keep staring through that thing, you¡¯ll hurt your eyes,¡± Barzom said with an idle scratch to his chin.

    Amale blinked and lowered the optex. One of the scouts had handed him the device¡ªan extendable cylinder with a glass lens¡ªan hour ago and Amale had scarcely looked away from it since. It magnified distant objects, making them seem much closer, and Amale couldn¡¯t help but think back to all the situations where such a tool would have proved immensely useful in the past.

    The scouting team had been hiding behind a crag since midday, observing the southern orc camp. After they separated from Jo, Sakrattars, and Kaja early that morning, the team slipped through Forgeheart¡¯s west gate and set to work tracking down the whereabouts of the missing cannons. Luckily, the orc¡¯s camp hadn¡¯t been difficult to find: the wheels on the cannon carriages left deep, fresh furrows in the damp soil that almost insulted Barzom with its blatancy.

    Now, Amale, Leif, Dimitri, Barzom, and five ferix scouts were trying to get a sense of what they were up against. Amale would have liked to be closer, but the steppeland beyond the foothills, with its lichen, bare rock, and patchy grass, had hardly any cover. Their only possible camouflage was distance.

    ¡°How many are we looking at?¡± Dimitri asked.

    ¡°Twenty,¡± Amale answered. ¡°More, maybe.¡±

    ¡°Are the Irkallu still there?¡±

    Amale¡¯s ear twitched. The scouts had spotted five hooded and cloaked figures riding into camp a sun movement ago and, ever since, Dimitri had been singularly focused on it. He already knew that the Irkallu were involved in the Steppes, with their priestess being one of Ironfang¡¯s daughters, but actually seeing agents in camp was a new escalation.

    Amale raised the optex to his eye. Though the image was distorted, he could still see the horses tied to a hitching post outside the warchief¡¯s tent. ¡°Still there,¡± he said grimly. He watched for a few moments longer, but just when he was going to lower the optex again, something caught his attention. His ear flicked and he squinted in a vain attempt to get a better look. ¡°Wait. . . something¡¯s happening.¡±

    Instantly, the ferix scrambled to extend their own optexes and have a look. Even Leif¡ªwho up until that point had been idly chewing a long strand of grass and making himself useful by throwing pebbles at Dimitri and Barzom¡ªperked up.

    Though they looked like tiny ants, even through the magnifiers, the ferix confirmed the unmistakable shapes of the five cloaked figures. They appeared to be leading the warchief and his orcs to the stolen cannons at the edge of camp.

    ¡°Can you see who they are?¡± Dimitri whispered urgently.

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Is Alistair there? Or Hester?¡±

    Amale pinned his ears and Dimitri dropped it.

    The crowd of orcs separated, gathering behind the cannons while the Irkallu stood amongst the carriages. After a minute or two, there was a bright flash of light and a burst of smoke from the center gun. The shell impacted a hundred yards away, sending a huge plume of mud into the air. After an eerily silent second, the booming report crashed into the scouting party like a wave. Amale yelped and nearly dropped the optex as the ground shook with the cannon¡¯s thunder.

    ¡°Curse them!¡± Barzom snarled. ¡°They¡¯re teaching them how to fire the cannons. They¡¯re doing it right now!¡± He grabbed his greatsword, ready to charge across the open fields.

    ¡°Hey, hey!¡± Dimitri said, grasping his arm. ¡°What are you going to do¡ªdeliver yourself straight into their hands?¡±

    Barzom whirled around, his characteristically laid-back attitude evaporated. ¡°You don¡¯t get it, do you?¡± he growled, jabbing Dimitri¡¯s still-tender chest with a finger. ¡°Our weapons are the only advantage we have. Numbers? They¡¯ve got them. Position? They¡¯ve surrounded us. Supplies? We¡¯ll be starving within weeks. Once those curs learn how to use our weapons, it¡¯s over.¡± He scowled and turned away sharply. ¡°¡®Course you don¡¯t understand. You have your nice, cozy Empire to run back to. But Forgeheart is the last place we have left.¡±

    Dimitri took a breath. He knew that Barzom didn¡¯t mean it, that he was just afraid¡ªafraid for his homeland, for his people, and, most of all, for his son. But Dimitri needed him to focus on their objective. He started to speak, but another deafening report shook the air. He cleared his throat and started again. ¡°If we do this smartly, those cannons will be slag by the morning. If we do it hastily, they will be aimed at Forgeheart.¡±

    Barzom flattened his small, round ears, but he knew logic when he heard it. ¡°So. . . what¡¯s the plan?¡± he finally said.

    Dimitri turned to Amale, who had the optex pressed to his eye once more. A third blast reverberated over the hills. ¡°You were a scout in the auxilia, right?¡± he asked.

    Amale nodded once, the motion nearly imperceptible.

    ¡°Good.¡± Dimitri looked up. The sun was low, and the shadows were growing longer under the dusky orange sky. ¡°They won¡¯t break camp this late. They¡¯ll probably leave in the morning.¡± He turned to Barzom and his scouts. ¡°We go in at night. Amale, Leif, and I will take out the cannons. You have the charges?¡±

    Barzom unclipped a hard satchel of stitched rhinoceros leather and handed it over. Dimitri pulled out a metal canister from inside. In typical ferix fashion, the charge was utilitarian and simple in design¡ªa steel cylinder held together by a row of rivets along its length. There were two buttons on either side of the canister.

    ¡°We call it ¡®starfire¡¯,¡± Barzom explained. ¡°To set it off, you push both buttons at the same time. That will break the glass vial inside and mix the chemicals. It¡¯ll heat up quick so make sure you¡¯re not holding it when it starts to melt. Stick it in the barrel of the cannon the moment you press the buttons. Even if it doesn¡¯t ignite the black powder residue, it¡¯ll melt a hole right through the firing chamber and render the whole gun useless.¡±

    Dimitri held out the bag to Leif. ¡°You got all that?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Leif tossed away the blade of grass he was using to harass a flightless cricket and stood up. ¡°Oh yeah, yep, got it.¡± He nodded. ¡°Stick the thing in the thing, and it breaks the thing. We going yet?¡±

    Dimitri sighed and handed the charges to Amale.

    *

    *

    Nightfall brought plunging temperatures and sparse snow. The evening dew froze into white frost, giving the golden steppeland a ghostly hue. Though shivering and miserable, Amale was focused as he crept closer to the camp, the grass crunching softly beneath his paws.

    Considering how huge they were, the ferix could move surprisingly quietly and had a keen mindfulness for stealth. They wore no metal armor that could reflect the moonlight and any equipment was wrapped in oilcloth to muffle noise.

    The same could not be said for Leif. Most of the evening had been spent smearing mud on his chainmail and wrapping Oxhiminn¡¯s unfortunate glowing axehead, while Leif made off-color jokes about ¡°muddy paws¡±. Leif was quickly demoted from the infiltration team to the backup team, which would enter the camp only if something went wrong, but Amale still felt better knowing his old friend was there with him.

    It was long after midnight and the camp was still and quiet. Amale was at home in the darkness, despite the frigid chill. Back in Balthissica, the dark had been his trusted ally. One time he was concealed in the bushes, observing a bandit fort for an entire night to count their numbers. During his stake out, an unsuspecting sentry had come so close that Amale could hear his quiet breathing. He was depending on the same luck tonight.

    When they got closer to the camp, Amale, Dimitri, and Barzom¡ªwho replaced Leif¡ªdropped to their bellies in the snowy mud and crawled along the bottom of the shallow gully that bordered the west side. If they followed it to a certain point, they¡¯d come within striking distance. But first they had to avoid getting caught.

    Though the orcs had been harassing Forgeheart for weeks, they were living out of little more than a collection of simple, round tents designed to be light-weight and collapsible. The communal fire pit hissed and smoked nearby, the coals dark. A pile of sleeping wargs, chained to posts outside their riders¡¯ tent, snuffled and kicked, occasionally stirring to growl and snap at an offending neighbor before flopping back down. On the far side of camp, a few steppeland rhinoceroses were kept in a crude pen.

    Amale¡¯s large ears swiveled constantly. He picked up muffled voices from inside the tents, and a few less-muffled voices from sentries outside. The voices never changed location¡ªlikely meaning the guards were being lazy about their patrol. They were probably sitting in one spot, grumbling about the cold, rather than keeping a good watch. Amale didn¡¯t hold out hope that the Irkallu agents would be so careless. In fact, he hadn¡¯t heard any voices he could attribute to the Irkallu at all, and that made him very uneasy for reasons he couldn¡¯t quite articulate.

    Emerging from the gully, Dimitri, Barzom, and Amale waited for a bored sentry to pass them by, then darted into camp. Staying low, they split up and hustled from tent to tent, moving both quickly and silently. There wasn¡¯t much time¡ªthe longer they stayed, the more likely it was that they¡¯d be spotted.

    Suddenly, Dimitri halted his advance. A sentry just ahead of him took an unexpected break from her patrol. Dimitri pressed himself against a weapons rack, breathlessly praying that she¡¯d move on. She idly braced an arm against a tent post and stretched out her chilly, tired muscles. With a yawn and a scratch, she shuffled along. Waiting just long enough for her to turn out of view, Dimitri dashed through the clearing, crouched low to the ground¡ª

    ¡ªand stopped cold.

    His instincts noticed the danger before his conscious mind did. Sprawled out on a hide mat near the makeshift rhinoceros pen, an orc, apparently the animal attendant, was snoring softly despite the thin blanket of snow coating his body. If Dimitri had taken another step, his foot would have come down right on the orc¡¯s face.

    Dimitri slowly tiptoed around the orc, intending to head for the darkness between two closely-clustered tents, but his ears pricked when he heard a cough. The sentry was on her way back. A litany of curses in every language he knew cycled through Dimitri¡¯s mind. ¡°Slow¡± wasn¡¯t an option anymore. He made a run for it, but the muddy toe of his boot bumped the sleeping orc¡¯s cheek.

    The attendant snorted awake, thrashing at the unknown assailant. ¡°Huh? Wha? Whossere?¡± He sat bolt upright, blinking sleepily as he peered into the darkness. Finding the alley empty, he checked on his charges, but the rhinoceroses were sipping from their water trough, quite unconcerned. It was then he noticed the sentry, who had one hand on the pen and the other holding her foot to her rump. ¡°¡®ey!¡± he cried. ¡°Careful with your stretching. You knocked me in the chops!¡±

    ¡°I did not!¡± the sentry replied indignantly. ¡°You were dreaming.¡±

    He wiped the mud from his cheek. ¡°Did I dream this? This is mud from your filthy boots.¡±

    The sentry rolled her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s just a little mud. You whine like an elf.¡±

    ¡°Well you. . . watch it,¡± he grumbled, too tired to start a fight. A moment later, he was asleep again. The sentry shrugged and moved on.

    Lifting himself quietly out of the rhinoceroses¡¯ trough, Dimitri finally let out a gasping breath. One of the beasts nibbled curiously at his head, its pointed lip curling around his dark, wet hair. Dimitri tried to wave away the creature unsuccessfully, before giving up and just letting it do what it wanted. The water already stunk like rhino spit, what harm was there in getting more directly from the source?

    *

    *

    Amale lost track of Barzom and Dimitri as he glided through camp like a shadow, his cloth-wrapped hindpaws flitting through the snow-frosted grass. Aside from a brief quarrel between two orcs, the camp had been silent. Something about the normalcy of the night and the ease with which he was able to move behind enemy lines gnawed at the edge of Amale¡¯s mind and frayed his nerves. But there was no going back now, he had to see the mission through to the end. He crouched low and paused.

    Just ahead, a lone orc was looking the cannons over, clearly as fascinated by the strange and magical technology as the Imperials were. The cannons glinted and shimmered as the surface frost caught the moonlight, a beautiful effect that belied their violent purpose. The orc tugged the rope lanyard that fired the device, and Amale tensed, bracing for the explosion.

    Nothing happened.

    Grumbling, the orc bent over to take a look at the place where the lanyard connected to the cannon.

    Metal flashed, and the orc gurgled and collapsed face-first into the mud. Amale flicked the blood off his kukri and knelt onto the orc¡¯s back. He knew that orcs were notoriously resilient, and he didn¡¯t want to take any chances that this one wasn¡¯t quite dead. Ears on a swivel, Amale glanced up to take stock of his surroundings and froze.

    An Irkallu agent was watching him.

    The agent must have been supervising the orc, making sure he didn¡¯t do anything foolish with the cannons. Though his face was mostly covered in black cloth, Amale could see the man¡¯s wide, staring eyes.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    The agent took a deep breath to sound the alarm, but before he could, a great paw closed around the back of his head and forced him forward into the mud. Barzom brought a knee down on the man in an attempt to control his thrashing but, even as he suffocated, the agent had the presence of mind to slip a knife from a sheath at his hip. Maintaining a firm grip on the man¡¯s head, Barzom shifted to the side to avoid the desperate stabbing attacks. A minute later, it was over.

    Barzom locked eyes with Amale, whose ears drooped in embarrassment. He made a careless mistake and it was lucky Barzom had been there to fix it. However, Amale didn¡¯t have time to dwell. Another shadow emerged from camp and the two started, turning defensively towards it. But it was only Dimitri, crouch-running their way. He was soaking wet and shivering from the cold, but was thankfully unhurt.

    Amale reached for the starfire canisters. The alchemical liquid sloshed in the inner vial, and the canister¡¯s weight shifted in his paw as the sand-like ignition powder moved from side to side. He wordlessly handed out the charges. Barzom clenched a fist around his, the action followed by the soft, hollow crunch of glass in metal. In contrast, Amale and Dimitri had to use both their hands to push the buttons.

    There was a soft hissing as bubbles burst against the sides of the canisters. In the silence of the camp, it was deafening. They quickly slid the canisters into the barrels of the cannons and made a run for it without waiting for the results of their handiwork. Amale risked a glance back and saw the dark metal barrels begin to glow a fiery reddish-orange. Alarmed shouts rose from camp as the black powder residue popped and exploded, but it didn¡¯t matter. By the time they figured out what had happened, the three saboteurs would be long gone.

    ¡°Peepers forward,¡± Barzom said. ¡°You¡¯ll be sorry if you trip now.¡±

    Amale snapped back to attention, but something didn¡¯t feel quite right. His paws hit the ground once, then twice. By the third time, he found himself suddenly alone. The frosty grass beneath his paws had changed into familiar orange scrubland and a pleasant warmth enveloped his frigid body. Shocked and confused, Amale lifted his gaze and was swallowed by the sight of fire.

    *

    *

    Amale fell to his knees, clutching his chest. Tears streamed down his face, freezing in his fur despite the blazing heat of the vision before him.

    His village was burning.

    It couldn¡¯t be real, but every detail was perfect¡ªfrom the construction of the huts to the way they were arranged around the ancient, gnarled tree that was their village center. Memories flooded Amale¡¯s mind: of dancing and feasting, of meeting with family and friends, of hearing the elders tell stories beneath the tree¡¯s boughs. He had his first kiss under that tree, and each new birth was welcomed there. The new pups were given a name and every adult collectively adopted them as an honorary child, vowing to love and support them throughout their lives.

    These memories turned to poison as Amale watched the flames climb up the twisted bark. There was wailing from within the village in voices that were far too familiar, but Amale couldn¡¯t move. He couldn¡¯t help them, and he couldn¡¯t turn away or close his eyes. He could only kneel and watch and remind himself that it wasn¡¯t real.

    *

    *

    Barzom¡¯s world was wreathed in fire as well. Forgeheart was crumbling. The impregnable walls glowed red as they melted, liquid steel running like water down the ruined sides. Impossibly huge monsters clawed their way in through the opened gaps.

    The last place we have left.

    He felt a weight in his arms. It hadn¡¯t been there before. He couldn¡¯t look at it; he could already feel what it was¡ªthe familiar texture of the fur, the exact size and shape of the body. It was someone Barzom had hugged and held each and every day since they were born. He had watched him grow, watched him play. He had bandaged his scuffed knees and read him stories before bedtime.

    Barzom couldn¡¯t look down. He would never get the image out of his mind if he did.

    *

    *

    Dimitri¡¯s wide eyes stared forward, not into the orc camp as expected, but into the living space of the tiny home he had grown up in.

    It was not the way he remembered it. The cozy hearth that had kept the long Volgarian winters at bay was cold and dark. Cobwebs covered every surface, stretching from the rafters to the floor like gossamer curtains. There, in the bed they had shared for decades, lay his parents, still holding each other tight even in death. Their taut bodies were rimed with frost, grief and pain permanently frozen onto their faces.

    Dimitri had planned to bring them to Aurelia one day. . . was he too late? Was this a vision of the future? His breaths came shallow and gasping as the fear set in.

    Somehow, despite his best efforts, he had failed.

    *

    *

    ¡°Well. . . you almost got away. . .¡± a familiar voice said, breathless from the quick dash through the village. Malevolent energy radiated from Gorza¡¯s staff as she circled closer to the now aware but still paralyzed companions. She looked into their anguished faces and smiled. ¡°Exquisite, isn¡¯t it? And that¡¯s only a fraction of the pain the dark ones can feel. Relish it while you can.¡± She perked at the sound of a commotion behind them and called out, ¡°over here! I¡¯ve got them.¡±

    A troop of orcs surrounded the three, most of them still buckling on their armor, or wearing only the hides they slept in.

    ¡°Those little rats! I¡¯ll run them through!¡± one said, drawing a blade.

    ¡°Not yet,¡± said a deep voice from somewhere in the crowd. It, too, sounded dreadfully familiar.

    As the orcs parted, Alistair stepped into view. He was clad in blackened steel, a fur cloak wrapped about his shoulders. A dark hood and thick beard framed his pale face. Behind him were two others. One was Jax Aster, whom Amale remembered from Operation Black Cloud in the depths below Aurea. By his side was his wife, Yvette. She stood stoically, cradling a crossbow. Her black wolf companion lowered her head and growled menacingly.

    ¡°You want us to lock them up, Alistair?¡± one of the orcs, who appeared to be the warchief, asked.

    ¡°You had your chance at that,¡± Alistair said smoothly. ¡°No, their story ends here, right now. Hold them.¡±

    Gorza nodded. ¡°They¡¯re not going anywhere.¡±

    Alistair drew his sword. It gleamed in the silver moonlight as he raised it high above his head. Still immobilized by Gorza¡¯s spell, Amale could only move his eyes to look up at the blade that was about to take his life. At that moment, he only had one regret: that he wouldn¡¯t get to see Kisha or his friends ever again.

    Alistair paused.

    Amale¡¯s nose twitched.

    ¡°Fire!¡±

    All heads snapped towards camp, where pillars of flame were billowing from a cluster of tents. The warg pack was awake, snarling and jumping and tugging on their chains. Some of the orcs were already rushing to put out the flames before their supplies were destroyed.

    Feeling the spell loosen as Gorza¡¯s concentration cracked, Amale leapt into the air and struck out with both feet. Gorza grunted as the kick caught her in the chest and sent her flying backwards. She dropped her staff and Barzom flung it as hard as he could out into the darkness.

    ¡°Forget the fire!¡± Alistair ordered, his composure unraveling as his men scattered. ¡°Kill them!¡±

    ¡°For Stielheim!¡±

    Amale¡¯s ears pricked up at Leif¡¯s battle cry, his tail wagging as the ferix scouts charged into the chaos with a roar. Sharp cracks and puffs of acrid smoke filled the air as the two gunners stopped and fired into the enemy line. The rest barreled forward, swinging their shields into the orcs and sending them sailing into the smoldering tents.

    Frustrated, Alistair swung his longsword at Amale, intending to finish the job himself. But his blade caught and sparks flew as Dimitri¡¯s rapier deflected the blow. The two men separated and Alistair lashed out again. Dimitri ducked to the side and the sword chopped uselessly into a tent post. Regaining his footing, Dimitri thrust the rapier forward but Alistair grabbed the blade in a mailed fist and directed it away, narrowly missing the tips of Amale¡¯s ears.

    Amale twisted out of dodge, whirling around and drawing both kukris from his waist in one fluid motion. But before he could back Dimitri up, Jax charged. With a gladius in one hand and a dagger in the other, Jax drove Amale back with quick, jabbing blows, effectively cutting him off from Alistair and Dimitri.

    Nearby, Gorza had recovered from her fall and was desperately avoiding Barzom¡¯s greatsword. She had managed to draw her own sword but she wasn¡¯t very well-practiced with the weapon. ¡°My staff! Someone find my staff!¡± she cried.

    Yvette pulled the trigger of her crossbow, hardly reacting to the pained snarl as it sank into the shoulder of an attacking ferix. ¡°Busy here, Gorza,¡± she said, a hint of irritation in her muffled voice. She sidestepped away from the ferix¡¯s revenge blow, took the bolt clenched in her teeth, loaded it, and fired again. This time her aim was true and the scout fell, clutching his neck. Instantly, her wolf was on him.

    Heedless of the flying bolts and exploding shells, Leif smashed his ferix-forged shield against an orc¡¯s face with a sweeping blow, sending her reeling backwards into a burning tent. ¡°Hah!¡± he bellowed, turning to deflect another enemy¡¯s sword. ¡°You¡¯ll have to break out your best liquor after this!¡± he declared to Barzom.

    ¡°Don¡¯t have any,¡± Barzom replied with a grin.

    Leif groaned. ¡°No food I get, but no liquor? There¡¯s got to be at least one blasted grass around here that you could¡ª¡± With its wielder thoroughly distracted, Leif¡¯s shield caught a teeth-chattering blow on happenstance. Roaring in triumph, as if he planned it all, and drunk on his own heroism, Leif pivoted and brought Oxhiminn down hard on the attacking orc¡¯s exposed chest. The orc staggered but there was no bloodshed. Oxhiminn¡¯s blade was still wrapped in cloth. Leif grit his teeth. ¡°Gods damn it all!¡±

    Despite the camp¡¯s best efforts to put them out, the flames began leaping from tent to tent, bathing the entire battle in choking smoke. Alistair coughed, his eyes watering, and pulled a corner of his hood over his nose and mouth. He had lost track of Dimitri in the poisonous air. He tried to issue a command, but his burning throat couldn¡¯t form words. Then he spotted a group of blurry gray shapes fleeing in tandem, and a glint of metal in the firelight¡ªfar too thin to have come from an orc sword. . .

    Dimitri, arms pumping, was sprinting away from the battle, his rapier clanging against his hip. By his side were Barzom, Amale, and the remaining scouts, the latter turning to fire back into the smoke as they ran. They passed Leif, who was crouched down beside an unconscious orc, swearing and grumbling as he fumbled with the cloth wrapped around his axe. Amale smacked him on the helmet as he dashed by. After a brief moment of confusion, Leif shouldered his shield and ran to catch up.

    Out of the smoke, the four Irkallu agents were hot on their heels. Dimitri led his team on a wild chase through the burning camp, ducking and dodging in a desperate bid to lose their pursuers. As they rocketed past a supply tent, Barzom smelled something through the turbid haze. Breaking away from the others, he grabbed a burning shard of wood from the ground and loped into the tent.

    It was filled with barrels of black powder, the familiar scent ubiquitous to anyone living in Forgeheart. Not knowing any better, the fool orcs had stashed it all in one place. Barzom grinned, his lips pulling back over his long fangs, and he plunged the burning brand into one of the barrels. ¡°Go, go, go!¡± he yelled, bursting out of the tent and wildly waving his companions onwards and away.

    Recognizing the danger, Alistair swept out an arm to stop his team. Without any exchange of words, they swiftly turned tail and ran back the way they came as fast as they could. Most of the orcs following them didn¡¯t need to be told to flee the scene. The couple who did were instantly swallowed by a massive explosion. Alistair and the others were lifted into the air as the blast wave hit, sending them flying as if cast from a mighty hand.

    *

    *

    ¡°Six dead, including your agent. Almost twice that number wounded,¡± the warchief said, wincing as someone bandaged his arm. The skin beneath was black and crisp from the powder blast.

    Alistair said nothing. His ears were still ringing, and his immaculate armor was smeared with blood and mud from his hard landing on the rocky soil. Pale dawn light filtered into the ruined camp, illuminating Gorza¡¯s medallions as she searched through the scorched remains for her missing staff. The night¡¯s raid had been nothing short of a disaster. Their horses were gone. The rhinoceroses were gone. Each of the three cannons had a huge, ragged hole melted right through the barrel. None of them would ever fire again. Alistair pressed the tip of his sword¡¯s sheath into the frozen ground and rested both hands on the grip. He tried to hide the fact that he needed to lean on it just to stand up straight.

    A lycaeon and a Stjornugaardian. . . They had to be the very same pair from the Castrum Ustarius incident, and from the lot of prisoners that Ironfang had captured then subsequently lost. Alistar didn¡¯t think it likely that there were two sets of the strange fellows allied against him. But where were the rest of their companions¡ªthe striped natiuhan, the elven wizard, and, most importantly, the zmaj girl? Were they hiding behind Forgeheart¡¯s walls? Alistair kneaded his temple. The thrice-damned little zmaj had gone and gotten herself some very irritating friends, indeed. . .

    ¡°What are you going to tell Ironfang?¡± the warchief asked, disturbing Alistair from his thoughts. In the distance, Gorza cried with delight as she finally located her staff. She picked it up and cast a quick spell to make sure it was undamaged.

    ¡°That you and your warband failed. Completely, totally, and utterly,¡± Alistair said venomously. ¡°And that our support for the warlord¡¯s little adventure is now withdrawn, unless we start seeing some results.¡±

    The warchief paled at the mere thought of saying such a thing to Ironfang. ¡°You can¡¯t back out!¡± he sputtered impotently. ¡°We need you now more than ever!¡± After Ironfang¡¯s humiliation in the arena at the hands of a wounded human, more than a few warbands had slipped away in the dead of night, returning to their homelands. If the Irkallu left the Steppes, and took their strange magic with them, that would be yet another blow to Ironfang¡¯s ambitions. ¡°Priestess.¡± The warchief turned to Gorza, who had rejoined Alistair¡¯s side. ¡°Surely you won¡¯t be leaving your father¡ª¡±

    ¡°My father knew the price of Irkallu assistance,¡± Gorza said coldly. She had received a sound scolding for losing the zmaj girl and she wasn¡¯t about to get back on Alistair¡¯s bad side. ¡°If he is unable to pay it, it¡¯s of no concern to me.¡±

    ¡°Priestess!¡± the warchief stammered. ¡°He¡¯s your blood. . .¡±

    ¡°And so was my sister,¡± Gorza said bitterly. ¡°Yet she has abandoned me too.¡±

    Tired of the conversation, Alistair grabbed his sword sheath by the blade and stalked towards the warchief. The orc winced, convinced he was about to be struck or worse, but Alistair just squatted down by his side.

    ¡°Destroy Forgeheart,¡± he said with soft lethality. ¡°And their weapons. Then we¡¯ll talk.¡±

    *

    *

    The lookout stationed at Forgeheart¡¯s western watchtower couldn¡¯t quite believe what he was seeing. He blinked and peered through the large, rampart-mounted optex. After a confused moment, he leaned over the railing and shouted down, ¡°open it up!¡±

    Gears grumbled, pulleys creaked, and the great steel gates scraped open. Hearing the puzzlement in the lookout¡¯s voice, the other guards gathered to watch.

    Shivering, stained with soot, and with most of their clothing covered in ice, Barzom¡¯s scouting party ambled through the gate upon the back of a rhinoceros. Barzom was at the ¡°reins¡±, which in this case involved hanging onto the animal¡¯s thick hair and trying to guide it as best he could. It had taken most of the day, as the beast was stubborn and dim, but they had made it back to Forgeheart with their wounded in tow.

    Shaking off their disbelief, the guards moved to keep the rhinoceros steady with an offering of hay cakes and, one by one, the ragged companions slid down from its back. Leif and Amale stretched their sore muscles as Tullius and Leo asked them eager questions about what had happened. Apparently Sakrattars, Jo, and Kaja had yet to return. Dimitri groaned as he landed, his stiff legs screaming from riding the armored beast all day. Still, he gave the rhinoceros¡¯s hairy flank an appreciative pat.

    In the small crowd was Vyrkad Gleamgear, his bewilderment no less than his soldiers¡¯. Barzom gave him a nod when their eyes met.

    ¡°It¡¯s done?¡± Vyrkad asked.

    Dimitri nodded. ¡°It¡¯s done.¡±

    Vyrkad¡¯s gaze shifted from the rhinoceros, to the victorious scouts, to the soldiers and onlookers. ¡°. . . huh,¡± he chuffed. Then he ordered the soldiers to tend to the returning scouts and took his leave. The ferix scrambled to obey, helping their wounded comrades to the medical tents. Unlike last time, the medics examined Dimitri, Leif, and Amale without prompting.

    Seeing Leif was uninjured, one medic tried to move on to Dimitri but Leif grabbed her arm. ¡°So. . .¡± he began sheepishly, ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you found any food while we were gone. . ?¡±

 Session 15 - The Wizard in the Mine

    The morning after Vyrkad briefed the companions on their missions, Sakrattars woke before the sun. He reviewed the map he¡¯d been provided several times, committing all details to memory, then set to work flipping through his spellbook and the various notes he had taken during the brief. Although his information recall had always been second to none, Sakrattars still liked to have physical affirmations that his recollections were indeed correct.

    Amale was the next to rise, then Jo, with the latter eventually rousing Kaja from her sleep. When Dimitri arrived at their doorstep, Leif was rushing around in a tired haze, clumsily gathering his equipment and complaining that no one woke him up. Waiting for them outside was Barzom and his scouting team, as well as Captain Tullius and Leo. While Tullius and Leo were staying behind, they still wanted to send the companions off properly.

    When they reached the central plaza, Leif gave Jo¡¯s hand a hearty shake. ¡°See you on the other side,¡± he said cheerily. Sakrattars pursed his lips. Why provoke such an ill omen?

    As Dimitri¡¯s team continued west, Sakrattars, Jo, and Kaja turned down the north road. Reserved almost exclusively for miners and loggers, the north gate was positioned at the narrowest part of the valley, where the river terminated at a small lake. Loggers in the mountains would roll the trunks of great evergreen trees into the river, where they¡¯d float downstream into the lake, get fished out, and then were used to power the forges.

    The north gate, while called a ¡°gate¡±, was more of an informal checkpoint with a guardpost on either side of the river. Unless the ferix found reason to fear an army of foxes or owlbears, there was no risk of an invasion through the north¡¯s wild and inhospitable terrain, so security was thin and the soldiers bored. Sakrattars showed their pass, signed by Vyrkad, to the on-duty guard. The ferix¡¯s eyes scanned the text lazily, then flicked up to each of them in turn. He settled on Kaja, who smiled brightly up at him. Grumbling a few words in ferish, the guard waved them through. Whatever Vyrkad was thinking, it was above his rank to care.

    Sakrattars adjusted his pack and pulled his rhino-hair cloak closed against the biting wind. Their destination was on the west bank, around a day¡¯s walk upstream: a mountain that the ferix called ¡°Mount Blade¡±, not for its shape or mythology, but because that¡¯s where they mined diamonds¡ªa gem they valued primarily for its cutting properties. Sakrattars had been shocked to learn that they routinely discovered veins of other precious materials like ruby, sapphire, quartz, and amethyst in the Mount Blade mine, but these were either left alone or discarded. Back in the Empire, such treasures adorned the necks and hair of nobles, and were prized items in a wizard¡¯s collection of spell components, though only the wealthy could reasonably purchase them. Sakrattars wondered whether the gems were what attracted the wizard in the first place.

    There was one odd detail in Vyrkad¡¯s briefing that concerned Sakrattars, however. According to the miners¡¯ reports, the wizard kept to himself and rarely left his tower, though they could see his shadow roaming around the candle-lit windows. This fact they all agreed on but, bizarrely, the miners were conflicted on where the tower was located. One claimed he saw it just inside the cave mouth, another said it was tucked at the end of a little-used passageway. One even said he saw it outside the mine, built as if carved out from the mountainside itself. The simplest explanation was that it was an illusion spell, intended to deter curious ferix. Depending on the strength of the spell, Sakrattars thought that he might be able to counteract it but that contingency didn¡¯t exactly fill him with confidence. He hoped that the wizard would be amenable to treating with one of his fellows and voluntarily make his presence known.

    The sun was high in the sky, but the air no less chilly, when the companions decided it was time for a break. Sakrattars filled his water skin, then huddled away from the wind.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you gonna wash up?¡± Jo called from the river¡¯s edge. Kaja had already stripped off her clothing and was swimming happily in the crystal clear water.

    ¡°Have you noticed the temperature?¡± Sakrattars replied irritably, while scraping together a few handfuls of twigs and dried grass. With a word of magic, the kindling ignited into an admittedly pitiful fire.

    ¡°Fine.¡± Jo shrugged and tossed her own clothing onto shore. ¡°Go ahead and smell like an orc pit when you meet this mountain wizard.¡± She waded thigh deep into the river and splashed the ice cold water onto her arms and face with a shiver. The layer of dirt, dried blood, and dust that had accumulated during their time in the Steppes washed away into the current.

    Sakrattars snorted, but took a discreet sniff. He didn¡¯t smell bad. It wasn¡¯t good either, but he thought it would be alright. Closing his eyes, he dreamed of the bathhouses in Aurea¡ªthe steaming pools fed by wood-fueled boilers, the scented oils attendants applied before the strigil, and the taste of the grilled fishes and fried bread the vendors sold outside. That last thought made his stomach growl.

    With a flick of her finned tail, Kaja disappeared underwater. She swam with a natural grace that surprised Sakrattars, though he supposed that it shouldn¡¯t. White dragons were known for their semi-aquatic lifestyle in the icy oceans of northern Calthia and, though Sakrattars still didn¡¯t fully understand the zmaj¡¯s connection to their draconic counterparts, their similarities were undeniably stark.

    After a long, mildly concerning minute, Kaja splashed back to the surface with a fish in her mouth. It flopped and wiggled as she waded out of the water, trying unsuccessfully to get a grip on the slippery creature. Eventually she grew tired of its struggle. She thrashed her head, bit down harder, and the fish instantly froze solid. Sakrattars watched with dismay as Kaja spit it out, picked it up, and offered it to him.

    ¡°Can I have¡ªum, an unfrozen one?¡± Sakrattars asked once the shock wore off. Kaja nodded and jumped back into the river. Before long, Jo had salvaged his attempt at firebuilding and Kaja caught enough food for Sakrattars to make a ring of skewered fish, roasting around the healthy flame. Clean and clothed, Kaja enjoyed her frozen fish while Jo showered her with praise for being such a good hunter.

    Sakrattars plucked a stake off the fire and peeled back the charred skin, his mouth watering at the sight of the steaming pink flesh underneath. It was plain and unseasoned, an insult to the culture of cooking he grew up with in Arvisian Bay, but it was the best meal he had ever eaten.

    *

    *

    Sakrattars peered at the canvas map, then to the setting sun and surrounding features. He was sure they had the right mountain, yet they hadn¡¯t found any tower inside or outside the mine and Sakrattars optimistically assumed that Vyrkad would have mentioned if there were more than one diamond mine on Mount Blade. He was beginning to fear that they¡¯d have to continue their search in the morning.

    ¡°Should¡¯ve expected this,¡± Jo grumbled, scooping up a stone and flinging it at a tree. ¡°This is why I don¡¯t like magic.¡±

    Sakrattars bristled. He stared harder at the map, trying to resist the urge to take his frustrations out on her, but was ultimately unable to help himself. ¡°Kaja uses magic, yet you never complain about her,¡± he said moodily.

    ¡°¡®Cause she uses it in a way that makes sense, not to make weird, vanishing buildings.¡±

    Sakrattars rolled his eyes but was vindicated by Jo¡¯s obvious ignorance. Kaja¡¯s magic made the least sense, actually. Thosian wizardry had recipes, it followed set rules, and its effects were predictable under a practiced hand. Kaja, meanwhile, wielded magic like she was plucking it straight from the ethereal realm. She never used spell components; she didn¡¯t even seem to know what they were. One time Sakrattars asked her how she went about converting the air element from her lungs into ice breath without a channeling crystal and the only answer he received was a blank stare followed by a small head tilt.

    ¡°Alright then,¡± Sakrattars settled on saying. ¡°I need more time to think this over. We¡¯ll have to spend the night.¡± Fortunately, Vyrkad had given them permission to use a small shelter tucked just inside the cave mouth. With no miners currently on site, they would have the whole place to themselves.

    Jo stood with an audible sigh, and Sakrattars felt the last of his patience drying up. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to come,¡± he snapped. ¡°You can go back to Forgeheart and I¡¯ll do this myself.¡±

    ¡°And leave you alone out here?¡± Jo teased. ¡°Kaja¡¯s the only reason you got to eat today.¡±

    Sakrattars huffed. ¡°You can go, Kaja will stay with me, right?¡± He looked at Kaja, whose eyes got wide. ¡°You want to stay here with me?¡±

    Jo cut in, saving Kaja from having to make a decision. ¡°Yeesh,¡± she mumbled. ¡°Sorry, okay? We¡¯re both staying¡±¡ªthen she added as a quiet after-thought¡ª¡°even though this wizard seems like a real piece of work.¡±

    Truthfully Sakrattars was grateful that Jo was staying, but he was still irritated with her. ¡°Then stop complaining and let me focus,¡± he said.

    ¡°Fine, fine.¡± She waved it off and ran a sheepish hand through her hair. ¡°Imma go hunting. Wanna come, Kaja?¡± Kaja paused, then shook her head. Jo shrugged, assumed her saber cat form, and bounded off into the forest. Sakrattars walked in the opposite direction, eyes scanning the ground. Kaja scurried after him.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Looking for plants,¡± he replied absently, drawing his knife from his sash. ¡°Magically significant ones,¡± he amended. ¡°A gift for the wizard when we see him.¡± It seemed silly to offer such a basic thing to someone practicing such high-level magic, but it felt better than showing up empty handed asking for favors.

    Kaja nodded in the way that, as Sakrattars had come to learn, meant she didn¡¯t quite understand but also didn¡¯t want to appear ignorant. ¡°What plants?¡±

    ¡°Mountain flower, bristle thyme, purple-tipped ivy¡ªah! Silvery lichen will do nicely, very nicely!¡± Sakrattars ripped a piece of parchment from his spellbook and gently shaved the metallic-colored lichen off the tree bark with his knife, catching the flakes in the paper. With easy deftness, he folded the paper into a small envelope to protect the precious contents. ¡°This is really expensive in the Empire,¡± he said to Kaja who, despite her lack of comprehension, made for a captive audience. ¡°It only grows in northern Calthia.¡± She nodded obediently, and didn¡¯t even object when Sakrattars continued to lecture her about the various plants they came across.

    It was dusk when Sakrattars called off his hunt. He had found several components he could give to the wizard, all of them humble with the exception of the lichen. ¡°I wish I could have found another patch,¡± he lamented, eying the parchment envelope enviously. ¡°I would have liked to collect a packet for myself.¡±

    ¡°You want more?¡± Kaja asked.

    ¡°It would have been nice to have.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    Sakrattars thought the conversation over and they continued in silence for a few more paces. Then Kaja suddenly veered towards a rocky outcropping. ¡°Hey!¡± he scolded, hurrying after her. ¡°You get lost and Jo is going to have my head.¡± But Kaja didn¡¯t appear to be listening. She examined the underside of the layered rocks, shook her head, and moved on to the next. When Sakrattars caught up to her for the second time, he was starting to get angry. ¡°What are you¡ª¡±

    Kaja pointed to the bottom of the slick wave of rock above them, where a large patch of silvery lichen was flourishing. ¡°I see it in dark, wet places,¡± she said. ¡°I saw it a lot back. . . home.¡± Her expression slipped for a brief second and Sakrattars felt it like a twist in his gut.

    ¡°Well, thank you,¡± he said awkwardly, hoping he wouldn¡¯t have to acknowledge their mutual discomfort.

    There was a hidden victory in the moment, though, one he gleefully took note of: he was correct to assume that the Grayspurs were near Kaja¡¯s homeland. Silvery lichen had a limited range, mostly within Volgaria, which was closed off politically and economically from the rest of Calthia. The only other place it could be obtained was in the lawless wilderness encompassing the Goldenwoods, the Grayspurs, and the central mountains. He was now certain Kaja and her zmaj brethren were from that area. The confirmation grounded him back in their ultimate purpose for being there, but finding the zmaj would have to wait until Dimitri received Vyrkad¡¯s word that he would honor an alliance with the Aurean Empire. Sakrattars filed the information away for later use, and refocused on their current objective.

    When Sakrattars and Kaja returned to the mine, Jo was waiting for them empty-handed. ¡°No animals on this damned mountain,¡± she grumbled. ¡°The noise from the miners must scare them off or something.¡±

    Disappointed by the fact that they would go to bed hungry again, the companions stoked a fire in the ashy pit outside the cabin and Sakrattars prepared a thick mountain flower tea. It wasn¡¯t filling, but it was warm and would calm their nerves for sleep. Jo and Sakrattars leaned back with their steaming tins, while Kaja sprawled out on the ground, her own tin left untouched. A glistening speck floated down into the firelight and landed on her nose. It was soon followed by another and then another until the sky was filled with twinkling snow.

    Kaja perked up, reaching out her hand. ¡°Snihl¡¯ad¡¯s blessing,¡± she said softly.

    Sakrattars sipped his tea. ¡°Snihl¡¯ad?¡±

    Kaja watched as the snowflake on her palm was joined by several others. ¡°Our. . . mother.¡±

    Jo propped herself up. ¡°Your mother?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Kaja shook her head. ¡°Our mother.¡±

    Sakrattars considered this. Imperials frequently referred to the goddess Aia as ¡°the mother¡±; it would stand to reason that zmaj could also have a maternal deity. In any case, it was the first time Kaja had mentioned anything about religion or culture so the breakthrough was exciting. Sakrattars was only disappointed that she wasn¡¯t forthcoming with more details, and he knew how Jo disliked it when he asked Kaja too many probing questions. He made a mental note to talk to Kaja about it in the future, when Jo was otherwise occupied.

    The weather intensified and Jo stamped out the fire so the companions could move into the cave and cabin within. Kaja asked if she could stay out, a request Jo was willing to grant so long as Kaja promised to come in to sleep.

    As Sakrattars was preparing for bed, he glanced at Kaja¡¯s small, shapeless silhouette on the lip of the cave. It had to be near midnight but Kaja still gazed up into the eye of the storm, silent as the falling snow.

    *

    *

    A gentle nudge stirred Kaja from her sleep. At first she thought it must be morning and Jo was waking her, but the cabin was dark and her companions were still in their beds. Through bleary eyes, Kaja counted a fourth person in the room. She sat bolt upright, gripping the locket around her neck.

    At the edge of her bed was the Child.

    Holding their doll close to their chest, their wooden mask featureless in a way that made Kaja feel sad, the Child gestured to the cabin door. Kaja hadn¡¯t seen the Child since Castrum Ustarius, when she was in her dragon form. Thinking she might be out of body again, Kaja looked down to where she had been sleeping but saw nothing except the straw cot. She felt her torso, her arms, her face. She was still in her body. Her zmaj body. So how was she seeing the Child? Kaja swung her legs over the side of the bed and made her way across the cabin, pushing the door open on its well-oiled hinges.

    She could immediately tell that whatever was off inside the cabin extended to the outside as well. The cave mouth was hazy and gray as if a curtain of thick smoke was obscuring the view of the evergreen forest beyond. The other direction, the interior of the mineshaft, was both light and dark, fuzzy yet clear. Kaja felt like she was walking through a dream or in her spirit body. Only she wasn¡¯t doing either of those things.

    The shadows shifted and Kaja whipped her head towards it. Nosing around in a pile of discarded gem fragments was a small creature, roughly the size of a barn cat. Kaja first thought that it was a black lizard, with its long, serpentine body and row of spines running down its back. But the longer she stared, the more she noticed: the horned head, the way its outline wavered like black mist, the rivulets of blacker-than-black shadow that dripped from its body. It almost reminded Kaja of¡ª

    The creature suddenly looked up, its burning eyes capturing Kaja¡¯s gaze. Though it resembled a demon, Kaja didn¡¯t feel the predatory pull she felt around the Fallen. The creature hissed, stuffed one of the gem shards into its mouth, and retreated further into the tunnel.

    Not knowing what else to do, Kaja shook Jo and Sakrattars awake.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Sakrattars asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

    Kaja hesitated. What could she say that didn¡¯t sound completely crazy? She glanced at the Child, standing motionless and pointing to the door.

    ¡°There¡¯s something outside,¡± Kaja said.

    This snapped both Jo and Sakrattars to attention. They flew out of bed and quickly dressed. Kaja shifted nervously as Jo pulled on her cestuses and took up position on one side of the door, with Sakrattars on the other. After one last look, Jo slammed the door open and they burst out into the cave, fist and spell at the ready¡ª

    ¡ªand there was nothing there.

    Jo peered around a few dark corners and shrugged. Sakrattars instantly relaxed, releasing a long, exhaling breath. ¡°What did you see?¡± he asked, his tired gaze resting on Kaja. But she stared right through him, at a fixed point down the tunnel where the Child was walking silently into the mineshaft. Sakrattars briefly followed her gaze, then turned back to her expectantly. Kaja chewed her lip. Sakrattars had looked straight at the Child but said nothing of it. Whatever was going on, he still couldn¡¯t see the way she could.

    The Child paused at the edge of visibility, beckoned, then disappeared into the inky darkness, leaving Kaja alone to explain herself. ¡°There was a lizard,¡± Kaja said at last. Seeing Sakrattars¡¯ expression grow wearier, she quicked added, ¡°not a lizard. A demon. . . but not a demon.¡±

    ¡°Kaja, what are you saying?¡± Sakrattars groaned.

    Jo came up behind him. Her posture had not relaxed as much as his. ¡°Let her speak,¡± she said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it was an animal, it didn¡¯t. . . feel right. It saw me, then went that way.¡± Kaja pointed down the tunnel. She could tell that Sakrattars still didn¡¯t believe her, so she thought it would be a bad time to mention the weird ethereal haze, let alone the Child.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go look,¡± Jo suggested.

    Sakrattars grumbled. ¡°Can¡¯t it wait until morning? Maybe she was dreaming.¡±

    ¡°And if it¡¯s Irkallu? Are you gonna wait to see if we get our throats cut where we sleep?¡±

    Cowed by the rebuke, Sakrattars sighed. ¡°Why do you always jump to the worst possible conclusion?¡± he muttered.

    After gathering the rest of their belongings, the party headed into the mineshaft to search for the mystery creature. The tunnel was large and spacious, supported by strong wooden beams reinforced by blackened metal. Even though it was lined with carts loaded with discarded stone and raw gems, there was plenty of room for the companions to walk comfortably abreast.

    Sakrattars magicked up a group of floating red lights which, to Kaja¡¯s eyes, only served to highlight the strangeness of the shifting, fluid shadows. Sometimes one of the lights would catch a mineral vein just right and it would twinkle like starlight against the darkness of the stone walls. Other times, Kaja would think she spotted another such vein only to see the flame-like glow wink out with a faint, unintelligible whisper.

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Eventually, the companions came upon a three-way split in the tunnel.

    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t think we¡¯re going to find whatever Kaja saw,¡± Sakrattars said with finality. ¡°We should go back and get some sleep. I want to be well rested when we¡ª¡±

    ¡°That way,¡± Kaja said, pointing down the left fork. The Child nodded, then dissipated into the shadows.

    ¡°Trust her,¡± Jo said, resting a hand on Sakrattars¡¯ shoulder. Sakrattars grunted but followed her lead.

    The tunnel began to open up and the carts became fewer and further between. The wooden scaffolding vanished and the walls looked less carved by ferix pickaxes and more sculpted by nature. For Kaja, the whispers grew louder and the weird blue flames more frequent. She clutched her locket, but remained quiet. In the distance several colors danced and sparkled, becoming larger and brighter as they approached.

    ¡°What on Kynara¡¯s green¡ª¡± Sakrattars gasped.

    The companions stood at the entrance of a large chamber, populated with a dense grove of twisted, gnarled trees as far as the eye could see. Unlike the trees outside¡ªwhich were notoriously immobile¡ªthe contorted, naked branches of these trees, powdered with lucent green lichen, wriggled and writhed in unsettling agony. Growths resembling giant puffball mushrooms carpeted the ground beneath them, weeping a luminescent pink sap from gaping wound-like scars. The odd fungus expanded and compressed with slow, rhythmic sighs, almost like it was breathing.

    ¡°Is that. . ?¡± Sakrattars stammered. Standing like an obsidian beacon in the middle of the animated, glowing forest was a tower.

    ¡°Told you to trust her,¡± Jo said proudly. She patted Kaja¡¯s shoulder.

    Kaja blushed, her lips turning up in a shy smile. She looked to the Child, nodding to them in gratitude. The Child, though their expression was hidden by their mask, radiated with palpable joy. They hugged their doll close and used its tiny arm to wave to Kaja. Then they dissolved back into the darkness.

    *

    *

    As the companions journeyed deeper into the eerie forest, Sakrattars felt a lump growing in the pit of his stomach. Everything was wrong: it was the middle of the night, they had gotten to where they were by trusting the word of a young girl, and he hadn¡¯t had adequate time to mentally prepare for meeting with the wizard so soon. If they turned back now, he feared they wouldn¡¯t be able to find the tower again come morning; but neither did he fancy spending the night out in the open surrounded by the creepy flora. As if to accentuate that point, a small branch reached into the back of his hood and poked Bartholomew experimentally. Sakrattars quickly slapped the twig away.

    Even still, his biggest source of worry came from the fact that the ferix never mentioned a forest in their mine¡ªand Sakrattars thought the unique features of this one would surely have been worthy of inclusion. His only ray of hope was a literal light¡ªa flickering orange glow in one of the tower¡¯s windows signaling that someone might be awake and willing to receive them.

    The tower itself was tall and narrow, constructed of black granite blocks streaked with veins of glistening quartz. Rings of glassless windows stretched up the structure at regular intervals, suggesting floors with rooms radiating out from a central staircase. The tower reached as far as they could see, the top floors vanishing into the darkness somewhere above them. The chamber was so massive that, if not for the lack of stars and moon in the ¡°sky¡±, Sakrattars would have no way of knowing they were actually underground.

    Sakrattars glanced at Jo and Kaja, took a deep breath, then knocked on the arched hardwood door. When there was no response, he backed up to get a look at the window aglow with firelight. Were they being ignored? For an Imperial to leave his door unanswered was a breach so offensive it was virtually unheard of. There were myths of gods traveling the roads of Aurelia in the guise of vagrants and hermits to test the hospitality of the faithful. Those who invited the strangers inside were lavishly rewarded, those less generous were grimly punished. Sakrattars knew of men who rose from their death beds to order servants to prepare food and drink while making sure their unexpected guest was comfortable.

    Though, Sakrattars reflected grimly, if the wizard set up his studies in the remote wilderness of the Grayspurs, he likely wasn¡¯t bothered by proper social etiquette. Nor was he likely to want visitors at all.

    ¡°Hello?¡± Sakrattars called, sounding more apprehensive than he would have liked. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for the late hour, but I come from the Academia Arcana. . .¡± It was a lie, of course, but Sakrattars thought that an Imperial wizard would respond better to that name than to the University at Barsicum.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± a sharp voice hissed from the shadows. Sakrattars jumped. A small black drake slithered out into the open, a saliva-coated gem in its little clawed hand. Jo shifted and crossed her arms, clearly put off but not yet willing to voice her concerns.

    ¡°That¡¯s the lizard I saw,¡± Kaja whispered urgently.

    Sakrattars relaxed, feeling a modicum of the anxiety whirling around in his chest subside. The creature wasn¡¯t a demon or Irkallu¡ªit was just a wizard¡¯s familiar. Perhaps it had even guided them to its master¡¯s home.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± it demanded again, crawling up the granite and hanging its head back with contempt. Even against the black stone in the dark chamber, the drake¡¯s scales seemed to eat up any bit of light it touched. ¡°How did you find my tower? Did Vhel send you?¡±

    ¡°Vhel? Who¡¯s. . . ¡± Sakrattars blinked. ¡°No, no. I¡¯m Sakrattars Mistwood, I¡ª¡±

    ¡°An elf!¡± the drake cried. ¡°An elf! An elf!¡± It shook its head as if dazed from a blow, repeating the words over and over again under its breath.

    Sakrattars hesitated. Of all the outcomes he had planned for, he never expected this one. ¡°I¡¯m a student of magic, as well. An Imperial wizard,¡± he said carefully. ¡°Are you here from the Academia Arcana?¡±

    The drake¡¯s head snapped to attention, its eyes narrowed lethally. ¡°My work, you¡¯re here for my work. Vhel sent you! She knows, she knows, she knows. . .¡± Still muttering incoherently, the drake stuffed the gem back into its mouth, then skittered up the tower and jumped through the firelit window.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t sound like he wants to help us,¡± Jo ventured wryly.

    Sakrattars swallowed but his mouth was dry. Diplomacy between the Free Ferix and Aurea could be depending on his ability to get this wizard on their side. He couldn¡¯t stand the idea of going back to Forgeheart a failure. ¡°The wizard didn¡¯t sound well. We should go inside and check on him,¡± he suggested.

    ¡°He looked a¡¯right to me.¡±

    ¡°The drake isn¡¯t the wizard! That was just his familiar.¡±

    Jo squinted up at the window where they¡¯d last seen the drake. ¡°So that¡¯s a familiar, huh?¡± she said pensively. ¡°And you¡¯re sure you didn¡¯t just get a normal toad?¡±

    Sakrattars pursed his lips. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for your nonsense. Besides, Bartholomew is just as good as a drake,¡± he said indignantly. He stalked up to the door, preparing to knock again, but it creaked open on its own. Taken aback, he glanced at Jo. Her eyes had gone wide and her mouth narrowed into a tense line. Sakrattars pushed the door fully open, the muscles in his arm stiff. ¡°Excuse me? Sir Scholar?¡± he called tentatively. ¡°Are you alright?¡± Jo and Kaja huddled at his back, all three peering into the pitch blackness of the tower. When he received no response, Sakrattars said, ¡°pardon the intrusion.¡± He straightened up and led the way inside, willing his fraying nerves to keep it together.

    His magical lights ghosted along behind him, illuminating the interior of the tower. Sakrattars gasped and Jo¡¯s eyebrows shot up. Kaja stepped closer, hiding in Sakrattars¡¯ shadow. They were in a long hallway lined with identical wood doors. Despite the tower¡¯s shape, there were no stairs or indication of vertical height.

    Without a word, Jo turned to leave but the door slammed shut, trapping them inside. She jiggled the handle desperately, to no avail.

    ¡°Wait, don¡¯t!¡± Sakrattars cried. But Jo paid him no heed and brought a powerful kick into the door that shattered the wood and twisted the metal hinges until the shards hung uselessly from the frame. He climbed through after her, but instead of being back in the forest, they found themselves in a small, cluttered study.

    Charts, maps, and notes were pinned to every surface, centered around a single desk facing the window on the far side of the room. A candle, melted down to a stub, flickered with an orange-yellow light. The wizard was hunched over the desk, his robes hanging loosely on skeletal shoulders. His hair was long and unkempt, his skin pallid, and he was writing hurriedly, almost in a panic. His free hand clawed and tugged at his scalp. Twirling a gray-white strand of hair around his finger, he absent-mindedly yanked it from his head.

    A whispering voice wafted through the room, its source unclear. ¡°She ruined everything. She knows, she knows. . .¡±

    An answer came. Though the voice was the same, everything else about it¡ªthe tone, the timbre, the emotional state¡ªwas radically different. ¡°Shut up! Don¡¯t say it! Don¡¯t think it! Or she will know!¡±

    A third voice. ¡°She¡¯s here. . .¡±

    The drake slithered up the wizard¡¯s body, wrapping itself around his neck like a living scarf. It dropped the gem shard into a brass bowl where a half dozen similar shards had already been collected.

    ¡°Yes. . . yes one more, good, thank you. . .¡± the wizard mumbled, his true voice identical to the disembodied whispers.

    The drake turned its glowing eyes toward the three intruders. ¡°The elf!¡± it hissed. ¡°He¡¯s hiding Nyssa from us! He¡¯s bringing Vhel to us!¡±

    ¡°No! Please listen¡ª¡± But Sakrattars¡¯ plea was cut short by a pulse of magic that drove them from the room. The shattered door disappeared before their eyes, leaving them staring at a blank stone wall.

    ¡°We need to leave,¡± Jo said, her severe tone marred by a tremble. She swung open the nearest door but beyond it was another infinite hallway lined with identical doors. ¡°Gods damn this magic shit!¡± she swore, slamming it shut and whipping around to face Sakrattars. ¡°Can¡¯t you get rid of it?¡±

    ¡°I¡ªI¡ª¡± But Sakrattars couldn¡¯t bring himself to say the words, to admit that he had no idea what was happening or how to stop it. The magic influencing the tower was not just beyond his skill level, he had never even heard of such magic in all his years of study. Whoever this wizard was, he couldn¡¯t have come from an Imperial school, and without that connection, Sakrattars¡¯ mission was as good as dead. The only thing left was to try to escape what was becoming an increasingly dangerous situation. ¡°One of these doors has to work,¡± he finally said.

    The companions split up, pushing open doors as they worked their way down the hall; but every door led to a different dead end, over and over again. They opened into dungeon cells, into solid walls or bottomless pits, or maelstroms of swirling darkness. Various scenes were coruscating across the walls¡ªmuddy, unclear, and rippling as if viewed through a flowing river. They saw snow falling, and sandstorms raging. Armored legions marched below while dragons soared through the skies above. Orcs pulled themselves over steel ramparts, crushing ferix defenders that stood in their way. With every door and each new vision, the voices grew louder and more numerous, arguing with each other incessantly until their discourse became a maddening cacophony.

    ¡°Nyssa is the key.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t think about it! She¡¯ll find out where it is!¡± ¡°She already knows! She knows, she knows. . .¡± ¡°She doesn¡¯t! The world will end before she finds it.¡± ¡°The world has ended! It¡¯s over! She knows!¡± ¡°Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!¡±

    ¡°What in the Abyss are they even talking about?¡± Jo snarled. ¡°What is Nyssa?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not real,¡± Sakrattars said. He felt dizzy and nauseous, and his mind was racing. ¡°Nyssa was home to the first elves, but it¡¯s just a myth, a story you¡¯re told as a child.¡±

    ¡°Well he seems to think it¡¯s real!¡±

    ¡°Just keep looking for a way out.¡± Sakrattars threw open another door and he was suddenly staring at a burning city under a solar eclipse. A great tower roofed in bronze scales crashed to the ground, scattering itself across a beautiful marble mosaic. Sakrattars knew that mosaic, that city.

    It was the market square in Aurea.

    Before he could fully process what he was seeing, he heard Jo shout in alarm as a flurry of long-tailed bats exploded out of her door. They buffeted her body, knocking her over, then wheeled down the hall towards Kaja. Sakrattars tried to warn her of the threat approaching from behind, but it was too late. The creatures passed through Kaja like she was a ghost, slamming into Sakrattars¡¯ chest and sending him reeling across the hall. He lifted himself in time to see Kaja turn to face the remaining bats, only for one to barrel into her and knock her prone before she could properly react.

    The bats fluttered away, vanishing into the darkness. Sakrattars rose, hand squeezing his chest as his heart palpated beneath. The companions huddled together at the next door, each unwilling to face it alone. Slowly, cautiously, Kaja pushed it open.

    They were back in the wizard¡¯s study, but it was different somehow. Sakrattars¡¯ eyes hurriedly scanned the room, his brain reconstructing it from memory. The candle. It had been burned down to the stub the last time they¡¯d seen it, but now it was tall and pristine. The wizard twirled a strand of hair around his finger and nervously pulled it out. The hair was black, not white.

    ¡°Vhel. . .¡± the wizard said the name venomously. ¡°I hate her, I hate her so fiercely I fear it will kill me.¡±

    After searching for guidance on her friends¡¯ faces, Kaja shut the door. Jo opened the next.

    The wizard stood at the window. The candle on his desk was burned down to nothing. His hands, old and gnarled, clutched the railing. ¡°It¡¯s happening again. . . or did it happen already?¡± he said, his voice shaking from age. ¡°Damn you, Vhel. I won¡¯t let you win.¡±

    A great shadow passed over the window. The wizard recoiled in fear as the shadow spread two dark wings from its long, thin body. ¡°She¡¯s here! She found me!¡± he gasped. The shadow beat its wings once and melted into the darkness. A deep, reptilian growl shook the tower.

    Jo stiffened. ¡°That sounds like a¡ª¡±

    ¡°Dragon,¡± Sakrattars finished weakly.

    The wizard, seeming to notice the companions for the first time, extended a bony finger in their direction. ¡°You led her to me!¡± he accused in a shrill voice. ¡°You led Vhel here!¡±

    Sakrattars wanted to protest, to say that there was no way a dragon could fit in the diamond mine and that they would not have missed the presence of one even if it had, but his voice caught in his throat. Nothing about this made sense. He had to be dreaming, there was no other way. A foul wind rushed through the window, snuffing out the candle and leaving Sakrattars¡¯ spell the only source of light. The red glow reflected off a rippling shadow passing outside.

    The tower wizard dashed to his desk with a speed belying his age. He slammed shut the book he¡¯d been writing in and clutched it close to his breast. Pushing his way past the companions, he fled through one of the doors and into the forested cavern. Sakrattars, Jo, and Kaja swiftly followed, breathing a sigh of relief when they were back in the surreal forest.

    But relief turned to horror when they saw the dragon coiled around the granite tower. Her form shifted like squid ink in water, pools of shadow dripping off her body and vaporizing before they hit the ground. She was small and lithe for a dragon, only a fraction of the size of Bhorovane or Anya, but her presence no less terrifying. Seeing her quarry trying to escape, she jumped to the ground, crushing the tortured plants of the forest under her claws.

    ¡°She¡¯s here for my work,¡± the wizard fretted. ¡°She knows, she knows. . .¡± The contorted trees closed in and blocked his path, trapping him and the companions in a glade with the dragon at the center.

    Vhel lashed out with her talons, her tail, her teeth. Jo dodged one of the blows, grabbing the dragon¡¯s arm to tip her balance, but Vhel recovered swiftly and flung Jo across the glade as if she were nothing. It wasn¡¯t the strike of a serious opponent, it was more like a cat toying with a helpless mouse.

    As Sakrattars and Kaja rushed to Jo¡¯s side, the tower wizard drew a vial of ruby powder from his pocket and crushed it in his hand. He signed an arcane symbol and a massive fireball crashed into Vhel¡¯s side with a spectacular explosion. Jo grabbed Sakrattars and Kaja and flipped them over, sheltering them from the heat with her body. They didn¡¯t have time to process what had happened before Vhel burst out of the smoke unharmed. Acting on pure adrenaline, they scattered just as the dragon brought her tail down where they had been.

    Jo wrapped her arms around the tail and, straining her muscles with all her might, attempted to drag Vhel back. But the dragon just flicked her off and sent her flying once again. Through his haze of panic, some part of Sakrattars found that strange. Vhel was big but Jo should have at least been able to hold her own in a contest of strength.

    ¡°She¡¯s not a dragon,¡± Kaja said, her expression uncharacteristically grave. There was a flurry of snowflakes and a gust of cold air, as she flung several dagger-like icicles at Vhel. They sank into her flank, smoking and hissing as they did.

    Sakrattars¡¯ heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. ¡°What are you saying?¡±

    ¡°Bhorovane had magic coming out of him like this,¡± Kaja gestured broadly around her. ¡°Vhel has magic like this.¡± She pointed from the dragon to the wizard, then the dragon to Jo.

    ¡°You can see magic?¡± Sakrattars asked faintly. It was a stupid, automatic response; words to keep his mouth occupied while his brain struggled to piece together what he was hearing. The ethereal realm, the source of magic, was known to be a fickle thing¡ªsubject to the whims of emotion and distorting in the hands of the incompetent. He recalled the bats in the tower, how they had only struck Kaja once she had seen them. . .

    A bolt of adrenaline surged through Sakrattars¡¯ body as the realization set in.

    ¡°Jo! It¡¯s not real!¡± he yelled.

    Jo, distracted by the idiotic claim, was sent sprawling by another whip of the dragon¡¯s tail. She recovered her stance, forcing a gasping breath into lungs that suddenly didn¡¯t want to work. ¡°Feels damned real to me!¡± she rasped. Nearby, the tower wizard was casting spells in a state of escalating panic, fumbling with his component bag and spilling the contents in the chaos. The drake tried to regather the ingredients for its master, but the dragon¡¯s lashing claws and flailing tail made it impossible.

    ¡°It¡¯s an illusion! This whole place is an illusion!¡± Sakrattars cried. ¡°Kaja can see it! You and the wizard make it strong with your fear!¡±

    Swatting the tower wizard and his drake away like insects, Vhel pinned Jo to the ground and opened her fanged mouth wide. Jo could feel the hot breath, smell the rotten odor. Everything about it was real: the pressure on her ribs, her hammering heart, the helplessness as she struggled in vain to free herself.

    Then Jo turned her face away from the beast and caught sight of Kaja. She had her hands clasped over her mouth, tears glistening at the edges of her eyes as she watched. But Kaja wasn¡¯t looking at Vhel, Kaja was looking at her. Jo recognized it, knew all too well the frustrated, fearful look of someone who wanted so desperately to help but could not. There was only one kind of battle Kaja wouldn¡¯t¡ªcouldn¡¯t¡ªphysically rush into to protect her friends, and that was a battle within the heart. Jo took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Don¡¯t look so worried, she thought, I trust you.

    Vhel¡¯s jaws snapped shut and Kaja stifled a scream. The dragon¡¯s head twisted and wrenched, but Jo remained uninjured, her face at peace. She flexed her arms, breaking free of the dragon¡¯s grip as easily as if its talons were made of paper. Rearing in frustration, Vhel recoiled from the answering punch as Jo regained her feet.

    ¡°Wha. . . what are you doing? Kill it! Kill it! It¡¯s going to slay us all!¡± the tower wizard screamed. He upended the contents of his spell pouch into his hand and began the arcane symbol.

    Sakrattars gasped. ¡°No, wait¡ª¡±

    The drake bit down on its master¡¯s hand in a last attempt to stop the spell, but the combination of the wizard¡¯s terror and his magic gave the illusion one final surge of power. Vhel pounced on the wizard, consuming him in an oscillating veil of living darkness. Her form warped and shifted, then collapsed in on itself and melted into the ground, leaving the wizard standing in the center. His body swayed for a moment before falling, his precious book dropping from limp arms.

    The companions rushed to his side but there was nothing to be done. Vhel was gone, the drake was gone, and the wizard was dead¡ªterror permanently etched upon his lifeless face.

    *

    *

    Sakrattars flipped through the wizard¡¯s book, scanning the words again and again, trying to make sense of them.

    ¡°Why do you still have that thing?¡± Jo poked the fire and stretched her legs out with a groan. The orange light of sunset settled on the snow-covered evergreens, creating an illusion that it was warmer than it felt. It hadn¡¯t been long since they emerged from the mineshaft and the fact that the sun was already so low on the horizon perplexed them. True, they had no sense of time in the mine, but both Jo and Sakrattars had trouble believing that they had been in there for almost a full day. Regardless, they made the decision to spend another night in the cabin and head back to Forgeheart in the morning. There wasn¡¯t any urgency, not anymore.

    ¡°It¡¯s a diary,¡± Sakrattars said, eyes still glued to the page. ¡°Most of it doesn¡¯t make any sense, it¡¯s just rambling about Vhel and Nyssa and some paranoid conspiracy.¡±

    ¡°Figures,¡± Jo grunted.

    ¡°The only half-way coherent entry is the first one,¡± Sakrattars continued. ¡°It¡¯s also the only one that¡¯s dated. . . 1491 A.I.¡± He pointed to the page where the date was written, clear as day¡ªa date that wouldn¡¯t come for another one hundred and sixteen years.

    ¡°So he was crazy,¡± Jo said assuredly, as if the matter had been settled.

    But Sakrattars didn¡¯t share her certainty. The idea that the wizard inhabited a different time was a strange one, but so were all the other ideas Sakrattars had been exposed to ever since he met Jo and Kaja in Barsicum¡¯s market. He skimmed the entry one more time:

    Spring, 1491 A.I.

    I got within sight of the walls of Nyssa before I was turned away. Not the orcs of the steppe, not the fey of the Blackwood, not the dark legions of Norsivex could keep me from my prize.

    Norsivex. There was that name again. It filled Sakrattars with dread. He continued:

    But a dragon could, and a dragon did. Her name is Vhel, though even writing it on this page causes bile to rise in my gut. I hate her. I hate her so fiercely it feels like the hate itself will slay me. She¡¯s a beast of shadow and her realm is of fear and trickery. With the remains of civilization ravaged by war, she has become powerful and has chosen Nyssa to be her lair.

    I can¡¯t let her keep me from the ancient knowledge the true elves left behind in their last bastion. The descendents who call themselves elves (as if they deserve to cling to that name) want to keep us from the power their forefathers wielded. Selfish! Spoiled! Savage! I¡¯ll show them all. I¡¯ll become strong in a time when Vhel has become weak, and then they will know the truth of the arcane.

    It was an apocalyptic vision of the future, one that rattled Sakrattars to his core. As a diviner, he was used to viewing time as fixed and linear. Just as there were irrefutable events that happened in the past, there were things that were fated to happen in the future. Despite the common misconception, divination didn¡¯t seek to predict those events¡ªrather it was the practice of using magic to ¡°read¡± clues about a time and place from the ethereal realm, where time and place were meaningless and everything existed all at once. If the information he could divine was variable, clues from a time that didn¡¯t exist, why would he divine at all? Caught between accepting a fatal flaw in arcane theory or accepting a bleak and terrifying future, Sakrattars could bring himself to do no more than reread the entries over and over, as if an answer might present itself on the worn pages.

    Mistaking the purpose of his silence, Jo nudged Sakrattars¡¯ shoulder. ¡°Vyrkad knew getting the wizard¡¯s help was a long-shot,¡± she said gruffly. ¡°If Dimitri destroyed those cannons, the ferix can hold out on their own until the legions come.¡±

    Was she trying to comfort him? Sakrattars sighed and shut the diary. She was right though, and once they returned to Forgeheart and secured the alliance, their obligation to Dimitri¡¯s mission would come to an end. Then they could focus on finding Kaja¡¯s homeland. He would have plenty of time to think about the diary later.

    Kaja emerged from the woods and approached the fire. ¡°Jo,¡± she said softly. ¡°There¡¯s. . . something.¡±

    Jo and Sakrattars followed her to an overlook on the ridge. She pointed to the southeast. With the setting sun on their backs, they gazed across the foothills and past the small, distant spires of Forgeheart. Where they expected to see the golden steppeland spread just below the horizon, they instead saw a mass of dark shapes¡ªrows upon rows of soldiers extending beyond view. Sakrattars felt his heart stop, his blood run cold.

    Ironfang was marching on Forgeheart.

 Session 16 - Molten Metal

    The senior guard at the north gate yawned and stretched his paws out, massaging his claws into the wooden rail. It was nearly dawn and he was looking forward to curling up and falling asleep to the melodic roar of the forges. Opening his bleary, watery eyes, he thought he spotted the shadowy silhouette of a giant cat, sprinting down the western bank. He snapped to attention but the shape vanished into a dark grove. He waited until something re-emerged¡ªbut instead of one shape, there were three. He recognized them as the Imperials that Vyrkad sent to the Mount Blade mine and leaned back, shaking his head. He must be more tired than he thought.

    But the Imperials were anything but relaxed. The beanpole elf was running at them, frantically waving his scrawny arms. He was shouting but his squeaky voice was lost in the metallic din of the smithies firing up their production. The natiuhan yelled over him, her words a dire warning: ¡°Ironfang! From the south!¡±

    The guard¡¯s ears pricked up and he exchanged an alarmed glance with his junior. ¡°You heard the dame,¡± he snarled. The junior nearly tripped over his own tail scrambling to the horn. He took a deep breath and a haunting baritone blared through the fortress, awakening every ferix to the sound of war.

    *

    *

    The machinations of Forgeheart were quick to spool up. Cartloads of scrap metal and spoil rock from the mines fanned out to the cardinal gateways, where they¡¯d be thrown from the ramparts to block the roads. A constant rotation of the keenest-eyed scouts kept their optexes trained on the approaching army, reporting all movement to their superiors, who then sent runners to deliver the information to Vyrkad and his team of generals.

    Despite the chaos, Jo, Sakrattars, and Kaja were somehow able to find Leif and Amale in the noisy, bustling crowd.

    ¡°We need to leave,¡± Jo said urgently, before any greetings could take place.

    Sakrattars nodded. ¡°If we go north, we can disappear into the mountains before they get here. Jo and Kaja are familiar with the terrain so¡ª¡±

    ¡°Now hold on,¡± Leif interrupted, ¡°we can¡¯t just leave the ferix here to die.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve already gone above and beyond the scope of our assignment,¡± Sakrattars said. ¡°It isn¡¯t our fight.¡±

    Leif opened his mouth to respond but Kaja¡¯s quiet voice cut him off. ¡°Tordom¡¯s my friend,¡± she said with a sombreness that momentarily silenced all discussion. Before it could start again, a runner loped up to their group.

    ¡°Vyrkad is in the training yard with the other Imperials,¡± she said gruffly. ¡°He wants you there, too.¡± The companions shared a round of tense glares before agreeing to go, each thinking that Dimitri would surely reinforce their opinion on the matter.

    The training yard was a flurry of activity, crammed with soldiers and equipment and soldiers inspecting equipment. A dozen cannons were being polished and prepared. Cohorts stood in ordered ranks as sergeants examined their fitness. And Vyrkad was at the center of it all, directing troops and issuing orders. By his side were Dimitri, Tullius, and Leo.

    ¡°Ah, there¡¯s the rest of our Imperials,¡± Vyrkad said humorlessly as the companions approached. No one bothered to mention that less than half of their number were actually from the Empire. ¡°Dimitri here has your shift assignments. You will be pulling watch duty on the walls, in four-hour intervals. Your cub will join the rest of our young ones as a powder runner.¡±

    Jo stiffened. ¡°Our ¡®cub¡¯?¡± she said icily. ¡°You better not mean Kaja.¡±

    Kaja perked up. ¡°What¡¯s a powder runner?¡± she asked.

    ¡°You deliver charges, shot, and supplies to the artillery crews,¡± Vyrkad replied. ¡°Helps you cubs learn how to fight.¡±

    ¡°So Tordom will powder run too?¡±

    Jo bristled at being left out of the conversation. ¡°She¡¯s not running your damned powder! You may risk your children in war, Cuilun save them, but that¡¯s not our way.¡± She finished off with a string of natiuhan curses. Vyrkad couldn¡¯t understand the words but he absolutely understood their intent.

    ¡°She might not look it, but Kaja is a capable fighter,¡± Dimitri interjected smoothly, hoping to see the tense wrinkle in Vyrkad¡¯s brow subside. ¡°Why not let her stay by Jo¡¯s side on the wall?¡±

    Jo¡¯s eyes flashed dangerously. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna be on the damned¡ª¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Vyrkad grunted, waving a paw. It wasn¡¯t that he was convinced, but rather that he was unwilling to dedicate any more time to arguing. ¡°You have your orders then. Dismissed.¡±

    As the group went their separate ways, Jo grabbed Kaja¡¯s arm. ¡°We need to leave, Kaja,¡± she said firmly. ¡°I¡¯m serious.¡±

    Kaja hesitated a moment, then set her jaw. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Let me go.¡±

    ¡°Kaja. . .¡± Jo sighed, her anger punctuated by a growing desperation. ¡°War isn¡¯t like in the stories Leif tells you. It¡¯s not even like the fights we¡¯ve been in so far.¡± Her eyes grew dark, her tone deadly serious. ¡°It¡¯s death and blood, it¡¯s screaming and rotting bodies. It¡¯s the moans of the dying, and becoming something evil and monstrous so you don¡¯t join them.¡± Kaja¡¯s arm relaxed in her hand and Jo allowed herself to hope that she had gotten through. But Kaja stiffened and yanked her arm away.

    ¡°I won¡¯t go,¡± she said stubbornly.

    Jo growled. She had half a mind to pick Kaja up like a sack of wheat and march her out the north gate, but she knew that Kaja wouldn¡¯t peacefully leave Leif and Tordom and everyone else she had come to consider a friend. If Jo forced her, Kaja would hate her for it.

    In the end, all Jo could do was watch Kaja¡¯s back as she left the yard.

    *

    *

    Amale paced outside the medical tent, wringing his paws, his mind a swirling storm. Ironfang¡¯s army was getting closer to the south gate with every sun movement, the warhorns growing louder and more grating. Seeing the steppeland, which reminded him so acutely of home in Acathia, filled with soldiers and instruments of destruction affected him deeply. It didn¡¯t help that the vision of his village burning was still fresh in his mind. To add to his worries, the rift between his companions sat like a physical wound in his chest. He didn¡¯t know how to reconcile their differences, but neither could he tolerate the grim helplessness of idly waiting. Eventually, he had to excuse himself, searching for something¡ªanything¡ªhe could do.

    Amale stopped his pacing with a soft whine. Finally, he could no longer stand his own inaction and swept into the tent.

    The ferix inside looked up at him, surprised. Most were from the Red Paw clan¡ªrecognizable by the red ochre ritualistically painted onto their paws¡ªbut there were others as well. They were preparing cots, washing linens, counting potions, and doing everything a medical unit could possibly do before a battle.

    ¡°What do you want, dog?¡± one asked wearily.

    ¡°Can. . . can I help? I¡¯m a healer.¡±

    The ferix looked at one another before sharing a derisive laugh, some shaking their heads in disbelief. One particularly large Red Paw walked up to him. ¡°If you¡¯re too much of a coward to fight, you should have run off already,¡± she said, looking down at him with contempt. ¡°It¡¯s way too late now.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not that,¡± Amale said earnestly. ¡°I just. . .¡± The words came easily to him in his native language, but there just wasn¡¯t a good translation for what he was feeling in Imperial common. ¡°People are going to be hurt soon, so I want to help. Is there anything I can do?¡±

    The big Red Paw glanced over her shoulder at the rest, their mood shifting from mocking to confused. ¡°We¡¯re all experienced healers,¡± she said, facing Amale once again. ¡°We can handle it.¡±

    Amale nodded. ¡°Okay.¡± He pulled a small satchel from his belt. It was well-worn and threadbare, the intricately dyed leather faded from years of sun exposure. ¡°Then, here, take my healer¡¯s kit,¡± he said, pressing it into the Red Paw¡¯s palm. ¡°It¡¯s not much, but please use it.¡±

    The Red Paw opened the pouch as Amale turned to leave. She expected to find primitive Imperial remedies like incense or religious totems, maybe even leeches. Instead, she lifted out a tightly-packed roll of  clean gauze and a brown glass bottle of medicine wrapped in cloth to protect it from spoiling in the light. There was a parcel of herbs, each variety carefully cut, dried, and labeled and, most surprisingly of all, a small pair of copper snips. Such finely-smithed devices were rare, even for a ferix. It had to have cost at least half a year¡¯s wages.

    ¡°Hang on, now,¡± the Red Paw said, putting everything back in the kit. Amale stopped just before the tent flap. ¡°We could actually use some help washing the linens. Not glorious, but it¡¯s necessary¡± Amale immediately perked up, his ears lifting. ¡°And I¡¯ll give this back to you.¡± The Red Paw handed him the satchel. ¡°Report here after the battle, with your kit.¡±

    Amale nodded resolutely, his tail wagging unchecked behind him.

    *

    *

    ¡°By all the gods, when will they stop that racket?¡± Leif snarled as he climbed the stairs to report for his first watch. By his side were Kaja and Amale, both with their hands pinned firmly over their ears. Even behind the walls, the warhorns were deafening. They had already seen ferix stuffing their ears with wads of cloth and candle wax, and were beginning to wonder if such a solution would be right for them. But any irritation immediately dispelled when they reached the ramparts. Mouths dropped open, hands fell to their sides, and all feeling swept away, leaving only a gaping pit in their hearts.

    Ironfang¡¯s army spread like an endless meadow of rusted metal, leather tents, and bustling bodies, extending from the line of craters beyond the wall to halfway to the southern horizon. Soldiers were working in the fading light on great siege machines constructed from scrap metal and rhinoceros hide. The sound of hammers striking metal echoed through the steppe.

    ¡°By. . . all the gods. . .¡± Leif gasped.

    ¡°It¡¯s something, isn¡¯t it?¡± Dimitri said. His shift, alongside Jo and Leo, had begun an hour before. ¡°Nearly all the orcs of the Steppe are out there. . . I¡¯m almost impressed,¡± he laughed, an unconvincing show of nonchalance.

    Kaja rose on her tiptoes but still couldn¡¯t reach above the crenellations. ¡°Can I see?¡± she asked. Everyone turned breathlessly towards Jo.

    Jo briefly considered not helping her, but if Kaja was truly set on staying for the coming battle, she would bear witness to things far worse than what lay beyond the wall now. She lifted Kaja up and they both looked over the sight in silence.

    ¡°. . .oh,¡± Kaja said, her voice soft and wavering.

    Vyrkad approached them, his expression worn but his features alert. He received a few curt nods and words of acknowledgement from the ferix around him, then stopped near the group, looking out at the army with his arms crossed. ¡°Anything to report?¡±

    ¡°Aside from the fact my ears are bleeding?¡± Jo grumbled, placing Kaja back down.

    Vyrkad sneered. ¡°Heh, be glad you¡¯re not one of us. We¡¯d be liable to go deaf if not for the¡ª¡± He swallowed back his words.

    The horns had stopped.

    But rather than relief, it filled everyone with a sudden dread. All eyes turned toward a single figure poised atop a rocky outcrop.

    *

    *

    ¡°Are you sure about this plan, Lord Ironfang?¡± the commander asked. ¡°Many will die.¡± Ironfang surveyed the fortress from the rocky outcrop, then turned to the army arrayed behind him. Even after losing a half-dozen clans, Irkallu support, and even his own daughters, the number of warriors he retained terrified even him. Had Calthia ever beheld a conqueror as magnificent as he?

    ¡°They die for a glorious cause,¡± Ironfang said with a wicked grin. ¡°Orcs of the Steppe!¡± he raised his voice to an answering cheer. ¡°Norsivex gave me a powerful vision. Any who fall in my service will spend eternity at his side. In glory!¡± He suppressed a smirk at the awe his words inspired in the fantical. Not everyone was convinced, but Ironfang disregarded them. Whether they were here due to old orcish traditions, the new Irkallu religion, or a healthy dose of fear mattered not¡ªso long as they were willing to give their lives to him.

    ¡°Bring up the trumpet!¡± he ordered fiercely.  ¡°Let us begin.¡±

    *

    *

    ¡°Can¡¯t you just shoot him?¡± Leif asked incredulously. ¡°He¡¯s right there! Give him a cannon-ing!¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s beyond cannon range,¡± Vyrkad growled. ¡°We¡¯d be wasting shells.¡±

    ¡°Then use a rifle!¡±

    Vyrkad sighed, not bothering to explain that rifles had less than half the range of a cannon. ¡°The walls of Forgeheart have held strong for centuries,¡± he said instead. ¡°They will not crumble today.¡±

    They watched with bated breath as an orc, likely a senior in Ironfang¡¯s command, lifted an elaborate instrument to his lips. Carved from the hollowed horn of a steppeland rhinoceros, the sound was eerie and melancholy. It flowed through the steppe and reverberated off the walls of Forgeheart, then faded into silence. Then came the beating of war-drums. First one, then five, then a hundred united in a deep, pounding staccato. The soldiers beat weapon against shield, and chanted in time.

    ¡°This is it!¡± Vyrkad shouted. ¡°Load and prepare to fire!¡±

    Jo felt like ice water was being pumped through her veins. Her gaze shifted from the orcs, to the ferix, to little Kaja, who had a grave but determined expression etched onto her face. It wasn¡¯t too late. If they fled now, she could still get Kaja to safety. She waited for Kaja¡¯s nerves to fail, for her to look up and beg to get out. But the moment never came.

    Ironfang raised his axe. With a colossal cry, the army barreled forward. Orange sunlight glinted off their armor as they surged across the steppeland like a wave of flame.

    ¡°Open fire!¡±

    The cannons of Forgeheart roared to life. With each report, a corresponding bloom of fire and smoke tore through the army. There were screams of agony and fear as soldiers were blasted to pieces, missing arms, missing legs, missing heads. Some simply vanished¡ªvaporized instantly into nothing more than a smattering of blood and gore. Yet the orcs never slowed their charge.

    Jo¡¯s stomach churned in revulsion. Amale¡¯s ears were down, his tail tucked. Even Leif had lost all enthusiasm, his eyes filled with horror at what he was witnessing. Dimitri watched, doubts about his mission evident on his pallid face. In that moment, they all shared the same, terrifying thought:

    The Empire wants these weapons. . .

    The charge didn¡¯t falter until the army was within range of the rifles. A rippling crackle cascaded along the walls, smoke obscuring the battlefield as the first salvo was fired. So many orcs fell that it looked like a wave crashed upon a shoreline. The ferix reloaded while the next line clambered over the bodies of their fallen. By the time they had freed themselves, another salvo tore through them.

    The orcs did not wait for a third. They ran, rifle fire and cannon shells chasing them back to their camp. Only when the army had melted back into the tents and pickets did a series of calls go out along the walls. ¡°Cease fire! Cease fire!¡±

    Ironfang, who had been observing the battle from his vantage point, waited until his orcs had fully retreated. Then he jumped down and walked calmly back into his camp.

    ¡°So that¡¯s it?¡± Leif stammered. ¡°They just gave up?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re scouting our defenses,¡± Vyrkad said. ¡°They¡¯ll be back.¡± He paused, looking over the tangled mass of bodies shredded in the teeth of Forgeheart¡¯s guns. Some writhed, not quite dead, suffering under the breezy curtain of powder smoke. ¡°Admirable, that kind of bravery. A shame they waste it in service of that bastard.¡±

    Jo looked down at Kaja, who was staring hard at the solid merlon in front of her.

    She didn¡¯t ask if she could see.

    *

    *

    Sakrattars walked the outskirts of the parade ground, as the Red Paws lay out cots in preparation for the siege that everyone knew was coming. The exchange that evening had just been a taste, a promise, of battle and now that the field was blooded, their work took on additional gravity. Sakrattars hadn¡¯t been there to see what happened, but the fact that no one who had been was willing to tell him about it spoke for itself.

    He was almost glad to see Leif, sitting on a sack of rifle wadding and painting his shield with coal grease. Perhaps he could be distracted from the miserable thoughts he was working so hard to avoid. ¡°What are you doing?¡± he asked, trying to sound pleasant.

    Leif looked up at him and grunted. ¡°Not going into battle with a blank shield,¡± he said. ¡°People¡¯d think I¡¯m not fighting for anything.¡±

    Sakrattars looked over the partially finished design. It was a ram¡¯s head, the twisted horns curving down into well-defined points. The position of the ears, the unpainted eyes, and even the stylized way the wool curled around the head all came together into a sigil that Sakrattars instantly recognized. ¡°That¡¯s the family crest of House Bjodhrutr, isn¡¯t it? The rulers of Stielheim?¡± Leif looked up at him and frowned, but Sakrattars continued, ¡°I remember seeing it on the sails of a few ships that visited my family¡¯s docks. They brought herring and timber, and traded for tools and fruit.¡±

    Leif laughed. ¡°So the fancy elf knows his heraldry,¡± he said mockingly. ¡°Stick your nose somewhere else. Why not bother that Volgarian?¡± Sakrattars sighed, frustrated by the rejection when he thought he was being rather amiable, and Leif went back to his painting.

    With further conversation being a fruitless endeavor, Sakrattars made his way back to their quarters. Since distraction didn¡¯t work, maybe shutting out the world, and the terrible wail of the warhorns, would help his nerves. He closed all the doors and shuttered all the windows, but could still hear the activity outside. He lay on the bed, hands covering his face.

    Why was he here?

    Every logical bone in his body was telling him he should flee in the dead of night and never look back. But then what? If Kaja stayed¡ªif she was killed¡ªhe would lose his only connection to the zmaj people and academic redemption. He¡¯d have to return to his blanket in Barsicum¡¯s market, telling false fortunes to gullible peasants. If that was his alternative, perhaps some part of him didn¡¯t mind if his journey ended in Forgeheart.

    He sighed and turned over, his eyes trailing to his pack, where the tower wizard¡¯s diary poked out enticingly. If he wasn¡¯t fated to die in the siege, he¡¯d be two hundred and fifty four years old in 1491 A.I.¡ªcomfortably middle-aged. Was his future truly so bleak, no matter what happened to him?

    Sakattars tried to put it out of his mind, but the diary seemed to taunt him from across the room. Finally, he rose out of bed, knelt on the floor, and grabbed the diary. He reached into one of his pouches and recoiled in disgust at the unexpected moist squish. Upending the pouch, Bartholomew tumbled out, followed by several wet crystals.

    ¡°How many times do I have to tell you to stop peeing in there?¡± Sakrattars said irritably, sweeping Bartholomew aside. The toad flailed clumsily, righted himself, then stared as Sakrattars laid out the diary and several clear quartz rods.

    Every person, object, and place was touched by the ethereal realm, leaving behind indelible fingerprints that divination magic could reveal. Whether the diary was from a different time or just the product of a disturbed individual, Sakrattars should be able to tell. He had hoped to do this later, perhaps after finding Kaja¡¯s village, but now he wasn¡¯t certain he¡¯d have any other chances. This was something he could do, could control, could glean one last lick of knowledge from.

    Sakrattars took a grounding breath, bringing to memory the proper words and arcane symbology. He placed his hands on the diary, closed his eyes, and whispered the incantation. The familiar surge of magic spiraled down his arms and pooled in his palms and fingertips.

    Instantly, a backlash of energy swallowed him up, locking his wrists in an ice cold grip.

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    He opened his eyes to a dark forest, the image hazy and dream-like. He looked down at his hands, but they weren¡¯t his hands at all¡ªthey were pale and hairy, the nails chewed down to the skin. There was a tiny black drake, huddled at his side and baring its teeth at some foe. Then he felt it: the primal terror he had felt only once before, in Castrum Ustarius. Perched menacingly on the walls of a ruined city was a great dragon of roiling shadows, much larger than the shade of her that Sakrattars saw in the diamond mine.

    Vhel. . . I hate her, I hate her, I hate her. . .

    The tower wizard¡¯s visceral anger, Vhel¡¯s suffocating dragonfear, and the burning horror of the eclipsed sun made Sakrattars heave.

    It was real.

    Desperately, Sakrattars tried to end the spell but the magic only tightened its grip. On the edge of panic, he pulled back so hard that he felt a snap and the sensation of falling backwards. He expected to hit the ground but he kept going, and going, and going. Visions rushed around him so fast he couldn¡¯t process them. He closed his eyes, he opened them, he tried to shake himself awake, he tried to grab onto something¡ªanything¡ªbut nothing worked. He could only watch.

    A dragon, blue scales glistening in the golden sun, roared atop a magnificent tower. Lightning struck the building, shattering it and setting the ruins ablaze.

    Legionnaires marched across a snowy field, their gait staggered and halting. One turned, revealing a grinning skull beneath the helm.

    Rivers of molten metal poured down the ramparts of Forgeheart, cannons shelling the very city they were built to protect. Ironfang stood victorious, holding his axe high. ¡°Tonight, Forgeheart falls! Next, we crush Aurea!¡±

    Sakrattars slammed back into reality, and withdrew his hands from the diary like it was a venomous viper. The chill in the apartment made the beads of sweat on the back of his neck feel like little icicles tickling his skin. Bartholomew watched him sedately, giving no indication that he understood anything of what his master was experiencing. After a humiliating amount of hesitation, Sakrattars picked up the unassuming diary and threw it into the bottom of his pack.

    He had his answer but, in a twist entirely new, he wished he hadn¡¯t even asked the question.

    *

    *

    Leo ran his thumb over the braided grass rope, staring down into the seductive shadows below the wall.

    ¡°You tryna leave too?¡±

    He jumped at the unexpected voice, whirling around to see Jo standing behind him. ¡°No,¡± he said quickly, embarrassed that she discovered him in such a weak moment. ¡°I just¡ªmy wife¡ª¡±

    Jo joined him, gazing loftily at the torches wavering in the darkness of the southern steppe. ¡°If I had my way, we¡¯d be gone too,¡± she said.

    Leo relaxed a little at the admission but still felt the shame upon his cheeks. ¡°It¡¯s weird,¡± he said. ¡°Somehow me and the Captain are the only ones left, and now it seems like our luck has finally run out.¡±

    A gust of wind ruffled their clothes and nipped their skin, carrying with it the smell of smoke, weapon¡¯s oil, and unwashed bodies. ¡°When they come, stay by me,¡± Jo said. She wouldn¡¯t patronize him by saying she would defend him in battle, but Leo frowned, ashamed of his fear in the face of a veteran warrior who seemed so calm. Jo continued, ¡°I¡¯ve fought at the side of Imperials before. Enemies always target the natiuhans first.¡± She flashed a wry grin and Leo tried to smile back. They both knew that, no matter who the enemy went for first, neither of them would survive the fight.

    ¡°You said that you follow the Spirit of Death,¡± Leo  said. ¡°Do you think she¡¯ll come for us?¡±

    Jo¡¯s smile waned and her eyes hardened. ¡°Melcuni comes for everyone, but only she knows when.¡± She paused. ¡°But if she does, she¡¯ll take care of us. Those who die in war or the birthing bed are given a hero¡¯s welcome.¡±

    ¡°I guess we¡¯ll have that to look forward to,¡± Leo said with a nervous smile.

    ¡°Yeah. . .¡± Jo replied automatically, her focus locking onto something else entirely.

    Leo traced her line of sight to the seven great mounds of bodies piled just beyond rifle range. Shortly after the exchange, the orcs had negotiated a truce to collect their dead, agreeing to do so under the watchful eyes of Barzom and his scouting team. Leo looked up at the tower, where the scouts still had their optexes dutifully trained on the working orcs. ¡°What? What¡¯s wrong?¡± he asked.

    Jo didn¡¯t have a chance to answer before the scouts sent up the alarm, shouting and waving in a confusing mix of signals. Everyone rushed to the wall to see for themselves what was happening.

    Barzom leaned over, his claws digging into the railing. ¡°Starfire!¡± he roared.

    A blinding shock of flame assaulted the defenders¡¯ eyes as each pile of bodies ignited into a blazing pillar. Jo whipped her head away, eyes watering, and tried in vain to blink back her vision. Ferix stumbled and groped for their weapons as Vyrkad shouted orders that they could barely carry out. Sakrattars and Kaja, who had been sitting together under the watchtower, rushed to Jo¡¯s side in the chaos.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Sakrattars asked frantically.

    ¡°Take cover!¡±

    A huge fireball arced through the sky, smashing into the ramparts with such force that the whole structure shook.  Jo grabbed Kaja and Sakrattars in a bear hug, pushing them to the ground and shielding them with her own body. Kaja squirmed in fear as fire rained down and the air burned uncomfortably hot.

    More flaming rocks slammed against the walls, some even sailing clean over and crashing into the yard. Firepots shattered along the defenses, showering the ground with burning pitch. Undressed ferix, who had been sleeping below the guard towers moments before, rushed out to fight the raging fires. Jo helped her companions to their feet, her mind racing. A disorientating cacophony of ferish and Imperial common came from all directions, but one word got through, loud and clear:

    ¡°Towers!¡±

    Out of the rancid smoke emerged siege towers, pulled forward by teams of hitched rhinoceroses. The creatures snorted and shied but warg riders with ember whips and snarling mounts kept them in line. Below the towers, dome-shaped testudos crawled along the ground, fire-retardant hides protecting the orcs from their own fiery assault. Several gunners regained enough wherewithal to shoot at the testudos, only to be shocked when their bullets sparked and deflected. Lashed to the top of the orcs¡¯ shields were the skeletal, armored bodies of ferix soldiers. The gunners halted their fire, confused, enraged, and unwilling to further desecrate the bodies of their comrades.

    Cannon shells exploded around the field, killing soldiers, forcing apart testudos, and disrupting the paths of the rhinoceroses. Only one shell managed to graze a siege tower, blasting a hole in the left side and sending the whole structure crumbling to the ground.

    ¡°What are you doing? Aim for the towers!¡± Leo cried at the nearest cannoneer. He received a harsh string of ferish obscenities in answer, then a sharp shove out of the way as a cub dashed in bearing an oiled cloth packed with more black powder.

    The towers rolled ever closer, coming within range of the grenadiers. Starfire charges shattered against the steel plates, the white-hot chemicals eating through the metal like acid. When they reached the wall, the testudos unveiled themselves, teams pushing out long, extending ladders even as ferix gunfire cut them down.

    Jo tightened the straps of her cestuses. ¡°Kaja! Fall back!¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    A massive shadow split the gray smoke and a great drawbridge slammed down onto the wall with enough force to dent the ferix steel. Riding atop the bridge as it fell was Gorzog Ironfang himself.

    ¡°Sakrattars! Get her out of here!¡± Jo shouted, bracing for the deluge of soldiers she knew was coming.

    ¡°No!¡± Kaja snapped, a swirling vortex of snowy wind erupting around her. Her draconic magic crackled in the air.

    With a victorious roar, Ironfang leapt into combat, swinging his great-axe in wide arcs. Sparks and blood flew as it bit into the ferix soldiers. Close behind him, the black-armored troops of his personal guard charged into battle. More towers dropped their ramps, disgorging hordes, and strings of orcs climbed over on the ladders.

    Jo scruffed Kaja¡¯s hood just as she sent a flurry of icicles into an orc¡¯s flank, tossing him from atop one of the ladders. Kaja lurched away, yanking her cloak free, her hood nearly coming off and revealing her horns. An orc grabbed onto Jo from the side, but she spun and broke his jaw with a single punch. Clutching his face, he fell back into the chaos, forgotten.

    She couldn¡¯t see Ironfang anymore. She could barely see Kaja and Sakrattars, and that was only from the bursts of light put out by their spells. She couldn¡¯t find Leif, or Dimitri, or Amale. She stumbled and fell, her foot catching on a body underneath her. An orc seized the opportunity and lifted her axe high above the stricken natiuhan. Jo instinctually raised a hand to deflect the blow, but before the orc could strike an Imperial gladius cut through her flesh and emerged out her belly, the dark, warm blood splattering against Jo¡¯s skin. The orc collapsed as Leo reclaimed his sword and Tullius¡¯ strong hand closed around Jo¡¯s arm.

    The tide was turning quickly on the ferix. Orcs were leaping onto the walls faster than the ferix reinforcements could meet them. Many of the defenders were backed into tight pockets, surrounded on all sides.

    ¡°Fall back! Fall back!¡± The order rippled down the wall, each sergeant echoing it as loud as they could muster. The able-bodied clustered into tight shield walls, covering the retreat of the wounded and the powder-running cubs.

    With the ferix on the move, Jo was able to regain sight of Kaja, who was being swept away by the force of the much-larger bodies swarming around her. Jo pushed her way through and scooped Kaja up in one arm. Tullius, Leo, and Sakrattars rallied around her and joined the rush down the stairs.

    *

    *

    Ironfang suddenly found himself without any living foes within axe range. His orcs surged across the walls, and more were ascending the ladders and siege towers all the time. A deafening blast sounded from a nearby cannon, as the ferix gunners sent another shell screaming into the midst of his army. Ironfang snarled in frustration, pulling his massive bulk onto the parapet with a single leap.

    There were six ferix on three guns, with a cub running powder canisters between them. All eyes were on Ironfang in an instant. With a shout, the cub dove off the tower as the six adults drew shields and axes, charging Ironfang as one. Ironfang flexed his arm, sweeping his axe in a powerful arc that sent the ferix flying, either into the fires of the inner courtyard or the waiting mass of frenzied orcs. By the time his personal guards arrived, he stood in the cannon tower alone.

    ¡°Get on the guns,¡± he ordered sharply. The Irkallu may have abandoned him, but they had already taught him all he needed to know. Soon, the cannons were firing again¡ªbut this time pointed toward Forgeheart proper. Shells exploded against the forge spires and crowded apartments. Families with young cubs fled from the burning buildings in a panic, only to be confronted with avalanches of rock cascading into the valley.

    ¡°Yes! Keep firing!¡± Ironfang walked to the edge of the tower and raised his axe high. ¡°Tonight, Forgeheart falls!¡± he shouted victoriously. ¡°Next, we crush Aurea!¡±

    The resulting cheer drowned out the cannonfire.

    *

    *

    Tordom and the other cubs caught the powder runner as she sailed down from the battlements, narrowly avoiding a swing from an enemy axe. ¡°Ironfang¡¯s up there!¡± the terrified cub cried. ¡°In the cannon tower!¡± Tordom lifted his gaze and his eyes went wide, his ears lowered. One of the cannons fired but the shot was in the wrong direction.

    They were shelling Forgeheart!

    ¡°We have to help!¡± Tordom yelled, turning to the others. After the walls were overrun, the group of cubs tried to retreat and had become trapped between the orcish onslaught and the ferix legion. Burning firepots rained down around them, the explosions frightening the cubs into crates or under carts.

    ¡°How?¡± another cub shouted back.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± Tordom looked this way and that, then spotted an overturned armory rack. But before he could formulate a plan, a familiar voice called his name.

    ¡°Tordom!¡± Barzom staggered their way, fending off attack after attack. ¡°Get out of here!¡± he roared, straining under the weight of his greatsword as he cleared a path for the cubs through the melee. His striped white fur was stained dark with blood.

    ¡°Dad! You¡¯re hurt!¡±

    ¡°Go now!¡± It was a tone that Tordom was unused to hearing from his father¡¯s mouth. Fear paralyzed his muscles and tears burned in his eyes. The other cubs looked at Barzom, then at him, as if silently asking him what they should do. Barzom cut another orc down, panting heavily as he hunched over in pain.

    Still Tordom watched, immobilized by terror.

    *

    *

    Atop the tower, Ironfang caught sight of a ferix soldier breaking away from the phalanx and heading behind the lines. He squinted, then snarled.

    It was the white ferix from the arena!

    ¡°That rotten rat,¡± Ironfang growled. He had only made room for Vyrkad¡¯s pelt in his war-tent but he was willing to squeeze in one more as some redemption for the humiliation he had suffered. Ironfang leapt from the turret, leaving behind his bewildered guard, and tore a rifle from the paws of a dead ferix. He brought the gun level with his eye, sighting along the barrel as he had been shown. . .

    *

    *

    Jo stayed in line with the retreating ferix, keeping her own body in between Kaja and the orcs pressing ever forward. Sakrattars, whether through exhaustion or prudence in the tight quarters, was no longer casting spells and was instead huddled close to Jo¡¯s back. Tullius and Leo were shoulder to shoulder, their large, convex shields blocking the surge of attackers, allowing the much taller ferix behind them to strike killing blows without compromising safety. Above the din, Jo heard a familiar voice.

    ¡°Get out of here! Go now!¡± Then a sharp crack of a rifle, followed by a shrill scream.

    Jo turned to the noise to see Barzom slumping to the ground, clutching his chest. At that moment, the ferix shield wall started to disintegrate. With a savage yell, orcs squeezed through the gaps into the courtyard, cutting down anyone they could catch. A trio of them rushed towards Barzom and the group of cubs cowering around him.

    ¡°Follow me!¡± Jo ordered Kaja. She didn¡¯t wait for an answer. She sprinted at the orcs, bullrushing one of them with her shoulder and sending him sprawling. ¡°Run!¡± she yelled to the cubs, shifting her stance to bring a punch square into another orc¡¯s chest.

    ¡°Son. . .¡± Barzom gasped. ¡°Go. . .¡±

    Tordom knelt down, cradling his father¡¯s head in his lap, tears wetting the fur on his cheeks. The other cubs were hiding under whatever shelter they could find, frozen in place, as Jo fought to defend them. A huge explosion rocked the battlefield as the captured cannons ripped open a breach in the inner wall. Molten metal poured down the ruined rock, glowing ominously in the night.

    *

    *

    Barzom looked into Tordom¡¯s dark eyes, the searing light of the melting walls blinding him. It looked so much like the vision he¡¯d been shown, but Tordom was alive.

    Tordom was alive.

    Barzom wished the gods were real so he¡¯d have someone to thank.

    *

    *

    ¡°Go!¡± Barzom growled with as much authority and menace as he could muster. But Tordom¡¯s expression just hardened.

    ¡°Cohort!¡± Tordom cried, standing back up. ¡°Shield wall!¡±

    The cubs responded to the familiar order and rallied to the strong voice of their leader. They pulled shields from the upended armory rack and locked together into a barrier around Tordom and his father. The attackers raked their weapons across the wall, sparks flying. The cubs buckled and strained but held firm, backing slowly as Tordom dragged his father towards an inner gate.

    Jo swept the feet out from under an orc, punching him away from the cubs as he fell. ¡°Kaja! Go with Tordom!¡± she cried.

    No response.

    ¡°Kaja!¡± Jo whirled around, panic setting in as she realized that Kaja wasn¡¯t there at all. Unable to wait, the cubs dropped their shields, one of them using her full body to slam the gate shut. Orcs hammered and hacked at it impotently as the cubs, carrying Barzom, vanished into the labyrinth of Forgeheart.

    By that time, most of the ferix had retreated to the inner wall, leaving the courtyard a chaotic mass of orc bodies, both living and dead. Jo jumped when she felt a hand on her arm, but it was only Leo.

    ¡°Get inside!¡± he shouted.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Kaja?¡±

    ¡°I lost sight of her¡ª¡±

    Jo didn¡¯t wait for Leo to finish his thought before she was tearing back into the courtyard, her whole world still and silent. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she pushed through the battleline and flung herself into the horde. She punched, kicked, bit, and tore, fighting in a rage-fueled frenzy to get back to where she knew Kaja had to be trapped. Leo was still beside her, desperately fighting both the orcs and for her attention. He was yelling something but his words were lost. An orc sword cut down into his shoulder, his expression contorting into a nauseating mix of fear and shock. Seeing this, Jo took a step back as an orc swung at her with his greataxe, overwhelmed by everything all at once.

    Then she heard Kaja scream.

    Her head whipped around, her heart pounding over what she might find. She never expected to see Kaja, unhurt behind ferix lines, staring straight at her in horror. Next to Kaja was Sakrattars, his eyes wide.

    Jo¡¯s breath caught in her throat. She noticed a sea of dark red spilling down her thigh. Not yet comprehending what had happened, she instinctively brought her hand to her side and watched as warm blood gushed around her cestus. Her first thought was how much of a pain it was going to be to clean later; her second was the surreal realization that this was all her blood. Her sight failed as she staggered, and she met the gaze of her opponent. In a display of impressive dexterity and strength, he had halted his swing, shifted his weight, and reversed the course of his greataxe¡ªstraight into Jo¡¯s flank.

    She had allowed herself to get distracted and had taken her eyes off of her enemy.

    It was a foolish mistake.

    She collapsed to her knees, the ground and sky spinning around her in a confusing blur clouded by the smoke of the cannons. She was vaguely aware of Kaja breaking free from the ferix line, and of the orc raising his greataxe to deliver another blow. Jo stared at him impassively. She was dying a warrior¡¯s death, a death she could be proud of when Melcuni came to take her soul into the next world. It was a better death than she deserved.

    So why, then, did she feel like such a failure?

    As she struggled to maintain consciousness, a familiar tattered cloak leapt into the darkened edges of her vision. Kaja cried out in draconic, her clothes billowing as snowflakes whirled around her. The orc adjusted his stance so that he could strike the young girl instead. Jo tried to move, tried to speak, tried to get the orc¡¯s attention back on her, but her body gave out and she crashed helplessly to the ground.

    Kaja stared down the orc, positioning herself between him and Jo, dragon magic surging dangerously across her skin. Dodging the axe blow, Kaja lunged forward with a feral snarl and slammed into the orc, icy claws piercing his chest and tearing at his flesh, leaving behind deep frostbitten gashes.

    As more enemies closed in around them, Jo saw Kaja crouch over her protectively, a vicious growl that seemed too deep and horrible rumbling in her throat.

    Then Jo saw nothing but darkness.

    *

    *

    Ironfang looked down upon the battle in the inner courtyard. The ferix were putting up a terrific struggle, and for a moment, he felt a pang of fear. What if they failed? He had lost hundreds, perhaps thousands of warriors already. It would be a generation or more before he could even think of amassing such a force again.

    Then a flash of cold, white light drew his attention. A girl stood crouched over a fallen natiuhan, swiping viciously at anyone who came too close. He recognized her¡ªshe was the girl the Irkallu wanted. Gorza never told him why, but it didn¡¯t matter. If he delivered that girl to them, they¡¯d be in his debt forever. Magic, weapons, the power of their so-called god¡ªhe¡¯d have it all, and Calthia would fall trembling at his feet.

    He called his personal guard and three steel-masked faces turned attentively toward him.

    ¡°Bring her to me.¡±

    *

    *

    White dragons, though the smallest among dragonkind, are commonly considered the most ferocious. Other dragons may be reasoned with, but the white will often ignore rationality in favor of its most bestial instincts.

    An excerpt from a book he had read long ago came to Sakrattars¡¯ mind as he raced back through the inner walls of Forgeheart. He knew it was absurd, to be thinking of a book passage as blood spilled and people died, as the acrid black smoke from gunpowder caught in his lungs and a carpet of bodies threatened to trip him¡ªa fall he may never rise from. Jo was down, likely dead, and he had lost all track of anyone else he recognized.

    Then there was Kaja.

    An oppressive wave crashed into him from behind, crushing him under the unique terror of dragonfear. And he wasn¡¯t the only one who felt it. Orcs and ferix alike reeled in anxious confusion, eyes scanning the sky, as cries of ¡°dragon! They have a dragon!¡± rang out across the battlefield. Though it was impossible, many claimed to have seen the creature and with the smoke as thick and visibility as poor as it was, everyone else began to believe it. Panic spread faster than the fires, fueled by the discovery of bodies with jagged, frostbitten wounds, their eyes stuck in wide-open fear of the one who brought about their demise.

    Sakrattars¡¯ thoughts went back to the book passage, a lump forming in the pit of his stomach.

    Even among their brethren, white dragons are truly monsters.

    Just then, he spotted Leif and Amale providing cover for the ferix as they fell back behind the inner wall. Amale fired arrows over Leif¡¯s shoulder, who braced against return fire with his ram¡¯s head shield. Sakrattars had never been so glad to see anyone in his entire life.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Jo and Kaja?¡± Leif asked, voice booming over the combat. A cannon fired again, making Sakrattars¡¯ ears ring and his thoughts scramble.

    ¡°Kaja¡¯s back there,¡± he panted, gesturing weakly. ¡°Jo is, Jo is¡ª¡± he frowned, the words catching in his throat. But Leif and Amale understood.

    ¡°And you left Kaja alone?¡± Leif exclaimed reproachfully. ¡°You two cover the retreat. I¡¯ll get Kaja.¡±

    Sakrattars swallowed back the tinge of guilt he felt at the rebuke. ¡°Leif, she¡¯s¡ª¡±

    But Leif wasn¡¯t listening. ¡°I¡¯ll handle it!¡± he called over his shoulder.

    Amale reached out and held Sakrattars¡¯ arm. ¡°I¡¯m going too,¡± he said, his voice deep and steady. ¡°I can help her.¡± Sakrattars wanted to scream. He felt like he was going to unravel, ludicrous ideas of running into the mountains and taking his chances in the wilderness racing through his mind. How could Amale be so calm?

    Then he felt a tremble in the paw gripping his arm. Amale¡¯s dark eyes were wide, his tail tucked. He wasn¡¯t calm at all, he just knew what needed to be done. That¡¯s all they had left. Sakrattars took a deep breath and nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he said.

    *

    *

    There were only a few times in Ironfang¡¯s life where he was unable to believe what he was seeing.

    This was one of those times.

    Of the three guards he had sent after the girl, two were already dead. One had taken a blast of icy magic to the face, his throat freezing solid. The girl hadn¡¯t even paused her attack when she leapt upon the second guard, sinking her teeth into his flesh and tearing out his windpipe. The third nearly lost his hand on a blade of razor-sharp ice and had fled from the girl, orders be damned.

    Ironfang tightened his grip on his axe and jumped off the battlements, landing hard in the bloody mud below. Soldiers parted before him, unwilling to face their leader in such a wrathful mood. ¡°Useless cowards!¡± he snarled. ¡°Out of the way, I¡¯ll take care of her myself.¡±

    *

    *

    Leif felt Kaja¡¯s presence before he saw her. His chest constricted and breathing quickened. It was a sensation he had felt twice before: once with Bhorovane and once long ago, on the isle of Stielheim in the northern sea. He imagined it was how the snow hare must feel when the wolf is nearly upon it. The crowd scattered, the smoke curled away in the wind, and there she was.

    She was crouched low, on all fours like an animal, her long limbs and lithe form eerily suited to the unnatural posture. The hood of her cloak was down around her neck, revealing her horns, and long, white hair splattered with blood. Her tail, normally hidden beneath her dress skirts, lashed through the air, the spiny fins flared menacingly. She lunged at a nearby orc and struck him with her hand, the resulting gouges in his armor and flesh much too large to have come from such a small girl.

    Leif understood why so many had claimed to have seen a dragon. When the firelight reflected off the smoke just right, Leif swore he could see the ghostly form of a dragon towering over Kaja, mirroring her savage movements.

    Long buried memories of huddling in a pantry with his brother and sisters came to the surface for the first time in many years. He remembered it in great detail: the searing chill colder than the worst Stjornugaardian winter, his mother¡¯s cry, the dragon¡¯s roar, the screams of the huscarls as they died by frost, claw, and tooth. As long as he lived, Leif would never forget the moment he met the ancient white dragon¡¯s gaze and felt the full force of her icy malevolence.

    He willed himself to act but didn¡¯t know what he should do. How would he even begin handling Kaja in the state she was in? Desperate for a sign, a cue, anything, Leif rapidly scanned the area, his attention settling on the disturbingly still form of Jo. She was face down, covered in dirt and blood, a sickening dark pool spreading into the ground beneath her. Leif couldn¡¯t fathom a way she was alive, but still he found his legs moving forward. This was something he could do, something that didn¡¯t involve pulling Kaja off of the unfortunate orcs in her path.

    Kneeling down next to Jo, Leif caught a glimpse of her injuries up close and nearly gagged. But just when he was about to accept that she was dead, he thought he saw her finger twitch. He knew that sometimes the dead moved but he needed to know for sure. He held the dull end of Oxhiminn up to Jo¡¯s lips and a weak breath misted the metal surface.

    She was alive!

    Leif rose to his feet. If he could show Kaja, then maybe she¡¯d calm down, maybe she could help him move Jo to safety. ¡°Kaja!¡± he called out, his voice hoarse. ¡°Kaja!¡±

    But Kaja had already seen him and, when their eyes met, Leif knew there would be no reasoning with her. He stood in paralyzed terror as Kaja bounded towards him, lunging into the air with a guttural snarl. It was difficult to believe that this was the same shy girl who hid behind Jo¡¯s leg, who peeked over Sakrattars¡¯ shoulder when he was trying to read, who helped Amale make wild daisy tea every morning. Leif thought of how she liked to watch quietly as he cleaned Oxhiminn, thrumming and kicking her feet idly as he showed her the proper way to oil the metal.

    She barreled into him, knocking the wind out of his chest and throwing them both down into the blood-stained grass. He stared into her eyes: the pupils narrowed into feral slits, the deep blue glittering dangerously in the flashes of cannonfire.

    He knew those eyes¡ªthey were the eyes of a dragon.

    They were the eyes of a monster.

 Session 17 - Guts and Gunpowder

    Rage.

    Glowing white like frost on a blade, its icy grip painful.

    Pain.

    The sting of metal against flesh. Each new blow compounded her desire for vengeance.

    Vengeance.

    The blood washed away the anger, but fed into her fear.

    Fear.

    She couldn¡¯t bear to lose anyone again.

    ¡°Kaja!¡±

    A stirring in her heart. Was that her name?

    ¡°Kaja!¡±

    There it was again. Who¡ª

    But wait! There was someone at Jo¡¯s side now. Why did she let herself get distracted? She tore through the grass and tackled the offending man. Ready to run him through with a stake of ice, she stared into his eyes with a snarl.

    Those eyes¡ªdid she know them from somewhere?

    She hesitated, her strike wavering in the smoke-filled air.

    That¡¯s right. . . Those eyes used to look at her so fondly, always with a smile.

    But now there was only¡ª

    Fear.

    *

    *

    Dimitri lunged, his rapier piercing through an orc¡¯s throat. He ducked away from the return blow, balancing on the twisted, glowing metal of the inner wall. The orc, missing him with their heavy sword, plunged into the burning pitch below. ¡°Come on then!¡± Dimitri called to the other three soldiers facing him. ¡°Who¡¯s next?¡± But after seeing the speed with which he dispatched their companion, none of them seemed keen on challenging him.

    Shifting his weight on the precarious perch, Dimitri glanced down at a flurry of motion in the courtyard. A familiar hooded shape weaved through the attackers, explosions of icy blue magic and falling enemies in her wake. Even through the heat of the raging fires, Dimitri could feel the chill bursts of air against his sweaty skin.

    Is that. . . Kaja?

    As Dimitri watched helplessly from above, Kaja suddenly veered towards her next target¡ªbut it wasn¡¯t an orc. She barreled straight into Leif and they both disappeared into a cloud of powder smoke. The sight was so unexpected that Dimitri couldn¡¯t fully process what he had seen. One thing was clear though: things were falling apart and fast. It wouldn¡¯t be long until Forgeheart was completely overrun. As if to reinforce Dimitri¡¯s fears, he spotted Ironfang himself, shoving through the crowd on his way to where he¡¯d last seen Kaja and Leif.

    ¡°Don¡¯t move now,¡± Dimitri said to the trio of orcs. ¡°I¡¯ll be back.¡± He dropped into the swirling smoke, sliding gracefully down a section of bent and damaged wall. His boots had barely touched the blood-soaked soil before he was racing towards Ironfang.

    It was time to cut the head off the snake.

    *

    *

    Ironfang stalked aimlessly through a breach in the inner wall, wondering where that little white-haired mouse had gone. There was too much smoke, too much chaos, and he had lost his bearings. With a roar of frustration, he swung his greataxe and splintered a nearby barrel into tiny, knife-like shards that sent his orcs scattering.

    ¡°Come for a rematch, have you?¡± The voice flashed like white-hot metal through Ironfang¡¯s ears. Rage boiled in his gut, his lips curled back from his carved tusks. There was only one thing¡ªone person¡ªwho could turn his sight from his goal. . .

    The Abyss-damned Imperial stood with his rapier pointed down and forward, and one hand behind his back. ¡°Call some of your bootlicks,¡± the Imperial said with a smarmy grin. ¡°I want witnesses when I humiliate you again.¡±

    Ironfang bellowed a wordless curse and charged.

    *

    *

    Leif¡¯s breath left as he hit the ground. With Kaja pinned against his chest, he was struck by how light she was and how it didn¡¯t seem to match her sheer strength. ¡°It¡¯s me, Kaja. . . it¡¯s Leif,¡± he whispered, trying to keep the tremble from his voice. ¡°I would never hurt you, and you would never hurt me. . . right?¡± Kaja hesitated, her arms shaking. Leif raised his hands cautiously but she thrashed away from him and disappeared back into the fog of battle. There had hardly been time to collect himself before Amale and Sakrattars were at his side.

    ¡°You found Kaja,¡± Sakrattars observed grimly, offering a helping hand.

    ¡°Jo,¡± Leif croaked, his world spinning. ¡°She¡¯s still alive.¡±

    Kneeling to inspect her, Amale¡¯s eyes darted rapidly between the jagged, open wound and the wide puddle of fresh blood. His ears lowered, doubt apparent on his face. Even still, he unhooked his healer¡¯s kit and firmly pressed a large, clean pad against her side. Gripping one end of the gauze in his mouth, he unwound the roll in midair with his free paw.

    ¡°Look out!¡±

    Amale¡¯s ears shot up and his muscles tensed. A blood-spattered orc loomed over him, wielding a greatsword above his head. Suddenly there was an ear-splitting explosion and the orc was blasted back, his chest engulfed in fire and smoke. A familiar, grizzled face greeted the companions from over the smoking barrel of a rifle.

    ¡°Khez?¡± Sakrattars exclaimed. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±

    The old gunner spat and shouldered her weapon. Slung across her other shoulder was a giant sack full of guns. Her calico coat was matted with blood and oily powder but she seemed relatively uninjured. ¡°I¡¯m saving my babies,¡± she snarled. ¡°Didn¡¯t you Imperials hear the order to fall back? Just saw another one running towards Ironfang. It¡¯s like you¡¯re trying to get yourselves killed¡ª¡± she stopped, seeing Jo sprawled on the ground.

    ¡°She¡¯s hurt,¡± Amale whined desperately. ¡°Really hurt.¡±

    ¡°See, this is what I mean!¡± Khez growled, taking a knee next to Amale. Despite her rough, chiding tone, her eyes were soft with worry.

    ¡°The one running to Ironfang, was it Kaja?¡± Sakrattars asked. ¡°The girl?¡±

    ¡°No, it was a man. I think. Blasted humans all look the same.¡±

    Sakrattars and Leif exchanged a look. ¡°Dimitri!¡± they said at once.

    Shrugging the bag of guns from her shoulder, Khez braced one of Jo¡¯s arms around her neck and lifted her onto her back. Amale stood at Khez¡¯s hip, applying constant pressure on Jo¡¯s wound. ¡°Body ain¡¯t what it used to be,¡± Khez said gruffly, groaning under the weight. ¡°You!¡± she commanded Sakrattars. ¡°Get my rifle, and be careful with her! Leave the others.¡± Khez glanced ruefully at the discarded guns. The rifle was nearly as long as Sakrattars was tall and extremely heavy, but Sakrattars held onto it obediently, afraid of what Khez would do if he didn¡¯t.

    ¡°Right!¡± Leif said. ¡°I¡¯ll get Dimitri¡ªand Kaja. You get Jo out of here.¡± Not waiting for an answer, he turned heel in the direction Khez had indicated. He had no plan and no expectations but he would be damned to the Abyss before he allowed it to be said that a Stjornugaardian retreated from battle before a Volgarian.

    Between Kaja and Ironfang and the efforts of the dwindling ferix resistance, the orcish army had scattered through the courtyard, all semblance of command and order lost in the fray. Individual pockets still fought, pressing into the breaches, while others wandered around looking dazed and lost. In the near distance, Leif could see Ironfang towering above them all, his broad shoulders flexing as he swung his greataxe.

    Leif willed his legs to carry him faster, but the heavy mail shirt, ferix shield, and Oxhiminn weighed him down. He could see Dimitri now, bloodied and bruised, but still fighting. With each blow Ironfang and Dimitri exchanged, Leif felt like the field between them was growing longer. An eternity passed between each footfall. ¡°Just hang in there, you milksop,¡± Leif muttered between breaths, ¡°and we¡¯ll take that bastard down with us.¡±

    Dimitri was on the ground. Leif¡¯s thighs burned; his mail thumped against his chest. Two orcs slid in front of him, blocking his path. He swung Oxhiminn wildly, his fervor driving the interlopers back. He wasn¡¯t going to make it in time. They were going to lose their chance to take Ironfang down, to make their deaths mean something. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Leif spotted a shape rush past him, as if swimming effortlessly through the dried grasses. He tried to suppress the shiver in his spine.

    It wasn¡¯t fear. It wasn¡¯t. It was just the chill from the snowy air she left in her wake.

    *

    *

    Ironfang watched the Imperial drag himself backwards, his skinny arm reaching out feebly for the hilt of his tiny sword. A cruel smile parted the warlord¡¯s face. He brought a boot down on the Imperial¡¯s ankle, delighting in the sharp cry of pain as the man fell limp into the mud. Ironfang readied his axe, wondering briefly if he should draw out the Imperial¡¯s death a little bit longer. But as he raised his arm to deliver the killing blow, something crashed into his hip and a searing pain bloomed under his ribcage. He pivoted, one hand clutching at four bloody claw marks on his flank.

    The white-haired girl was staring defiantly up at him, her hand coated in his blood. Ironfang could hardly believe his luck¡ªshe had come to him. He would be able to get his revenge and secure his future in one fell swoop.

    The girl wasn¡¯t human like Ironfang had expected. She was like nothing he had ever seen before, like some unnatural cross between a human and a steppeland drake, barely half his height and just a fraction of his weight. Ironfang could have laughed. This strange little creature was the one who Alistair coveted¡ªand the one who caused his warriors to panic about dragons? But then he caught the sharp glint in the girl¡¯s eyes and the lethal intent behind them. She expected him to be afraid, glowering as she was with the blood of his orcs splattered across her face and arms and clothes. This was a creature with nothing left to lose, and Ironfang knew those were the most dangerous of all.

    She struck fast and hard, driving Ironfang away from where Dimitri lay motionless. He let her think she controlled the field, watching her frenzied movements with grim amusement as if he were merely playing a game with her. Perhaps he should keep this girl and add her to his menagerie, to unleash her in the arena upon his enemies. If the Irkallu feared her so much, let him use her against them and take what he desired by right of conquest. That was the way it should be. The way of tradition.

    When his opening came, Ironfang was almost disappointed that his brief skirmish with the bizarre, yet fierce, creature had come to an end. He brought down his greataxe, intending to strike her with the flat of the blade and knock her senseless. So confident was he that it took him a moment to realize that he wasn¡¯t feeling the familiar resistance of flesh and bone. Trapped in the momentum of his attack, he could only watch as the girl slid deftly under his chest, hooking her tail and foot around his ankle and twirling herself around his body. Before he knew it, the girl had swung herself up onto his forearm. There was an explosion of hoarfrost and a startled Ironfang dropped his greataxe, the handle coated in slick, burning ice. At the same time, the girl launched herself off of his arm and landed on all fours, crouched in the mud and dust and blood.

    Ironfang clenched a fist, his palm blistered raw with frostbite. The girl was in possession of formidable ability, but she was young, inexperienced, and most of all, terrified. Ironfang could smell the fear dripping off of her, commanding her every movement. It made her choose to disarm him when instead she should have delivered a killing blow.

    And now she was making yet another mistake but, unlike the others, it was going to be her last.

    *

    *

    Leif was getting angry. He had somehow managed to fell one of the two orcs blocking his way, but the second was a slippery bastard. He hurled Oxhiminn around, forcing the orc to go on the defensive. Seeing that Kaja disarmed Ironfang, Leif¡¯s heart soared despite his predicament. Maybe they could turn this around, maybe they could win. He just needed to get in there¡ª

    Kaja lunged again and Ironfang swung his arm like a club, this time catching her in the stomach. She let out a strangled gasp as she was propelled backward, her limp form bouncing and rolling through the mud until it came to a quiet stop. The mental haze that clouded the battlefield lifted. It took Leif a few moments to realize that it was the effects of Kaja¡¯s dragonfear dissipating, and he knew that she was either unconscious or worse. He yelled in a sudden jolt of rage, his fingers wrapping tighter around Oxhiminn as wild thoughts of driving the blade through Ironfang¡¯s skull played in his mind. He settled on sinking it into his startled opponent¡¯s thigh.

    It was then that Ironfang seemed to notice Leif for the first time. ¡°Another Imperial joins the fight, neh?¡± he sneered.

    Leif planted his feet and took a deep breath. He was not a small man, but Ironfang was as tall as Jo and nearly twice her bulk. There was no way to win a contest of strength. He would need to rely on strategy and cleverness, neither of which he had a very good record with. But if there was even the slightest chance he could make sure that all this sacrifice and death wasn¡¯t for nothing, he would gladly face his own destruction. He wouldn¡¯t be able to live with himself otherwise.

    ¡°To the stars, we return!¡± Leif sang the final verse of a Stjornugaardian battle hymn. He was struck by how strange it sounded without the singing of fellow warriors and the drumming beat of weapons on shields, but if anything it only instilled him with more determination. Jo was down, Dimitri was down, Kaja was down. He was the only one left standing¡ªa lone soldier determined to go out with blood and iron.

    Though Ironfang did not understand the words of Leif¡¯s chant, he knew a challenge when he heard one. ¡°Very well,¡± he said, cracking his knuckles. ¡°I¡¯ll cut you down like I did the others.¡±

    ¡°Without a weapon?¡± Leif scoffed, hoping his false bravado masked his paralyzing fear. ¡°Hah! Go on and find one. I¡¯ll wait.¡± But Ironfang wasn¡¯t taking the bait. He swung an armored fist, the punch landing a glancing blow off of Leif¡¯s shield. Searing pain shot up Leif¡¯s arm, his whole body unbalanced by the strike. In a brief moment of clarity, Leif realized how badly outmatched he really was. He had been in bar fights and skirmishes, but he had never faced a truly powerful enemy that was singularly focused on killing him. Ironfang could pick him up by the throat and pop his head off like it was a dandelion. It probably wouldn¡¯t even be that hard for him.

    Steeling his nerves, Leif countered the attack but Ironfang moved with surprising agility. Oxhiminn whistled through empty air, the unexpected momentum spinning Leif around as a powerful kick sent him into the mud. He lurched back to his feet just as quickly, but Ironfang was already on him. The next blow had Leif sprawling. Oxhiminn slipped from his grip and skittered out of reach.

    Come on, Leif! he chastised himself as he rose again. This is nothing you¡¯re not used to. He remembered the training sessions of his youth, remembered the feeling of snow soaking into his tunic as he fell over and over. He remembered his trainer, an old, scarred warrior named Wenceslaus, shaking his head. ¡°Let me guess,¡± Wenceslaus would say. ¡°You¡¯ve been training all week, but somehow you¡¯re still incompetent. That right?¡± Of course they both knew that Leif had lifted the ale mug far more often than his shield and sword. Even still, Leif would wipe the blood from his nose, pick up his sword, and put himself into a ready position.

    Leif could still hear his old trainer¡¯s voice clear as day: ¡°Prince Leif, you are a lazy, shiftless drunk, but at least you can take your licks.¡± He smirked at the memory as he reeled from another one of Ironfang¡¯s punches. Then his gaze shifted from Kaja to Dimitri, and he smiled. That¡¯s it, he thought. I just have to take my licks. . . Wobbling on unsteady feet, Leif laughed. ¡°I can do this all day!¡± he slurred, raising his voice above the din of battle. ¡°Is that all you got?¡± Ironfang was becoming more and more enraged, but each fresh blow only increased Leif¡¯s resolve. ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± he shouted. ¡°Hit me!¡±

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Ironfang¡¯s footwork got sloppier and his punches more reckless as his temper flared. They had an audience now, as several orc soldiers gathered around to watch their lord fight. They exchanged uncertain looks as Leif sidestepped and dodged. Feeling the infuriating sting of embarrassment, Ironfang brought another punch down. It was a clumsy strike, fueled by anger, and Leif easily avoided it. He backhanded Ironfang across the face with his shield, and followed up with a series of savage punches.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Leif taunted. ¡°Never fought a real warrior before? Refugees and children are more your level, eh?¡± His mailed fist landed once more against Ironfang¡¯s jaw, chipping one of his carved tusks.

    Ironfang roared and delivered an uppercut to Leif¡¯s open gut, sending him flying. Even with the mail shirt and layer of stiffened leathers to protect him, Leif felt the impact deep in his body as his breath was knocked from his lungs. He crashed to the ground, the taste of iron filling his mouth as his teeth shredded the inside of his cheek.

    Fighting for air and choking on his own blood, Leif flailed for purchase. Oxhiminn rested only a few feet away. He crawled toward it, then rose to his feet with his axe in hand. ¡°Now that¡¯s more like it,¡± he said, spitting out a gob of blood. ¡°Fifty more of those and I might feel it.¡± He wheeled around and sunk Oxhiminn into Ironfang¡¯s thigh, but the blade didn¡¯t make it past the warlord¡¯s thick armor.

    Ironfang snarled and smacked the axe away like it was nothing more than a nuisance. Oxhiminn sailed back into the darkness, the glowing blue metal disappearing into the grass. Before Leif could recover, Ironfang hammered a fist against his shield, denting it right in the middle of the ram¡¯s head sigil, then ripped it from Leif¡¯s arm and tossed it away. Leif felt a flash of fear as the warlord clasped him around the throat and lifted him like a doll.

    ¡°I conquered the orc clans. I defeated thirteen chieftains in single combat. I faced the ferix legions and stared down the guns of Forgeheart.¡± Ironfang raised his voice, so that the watching orcs could also hear and remember their lord¡¯s accomplishments. ¡°And you,¡± he snarled at Leif. ¡°You thought you¡¯d be the one to kill me?¡±

    Leif coughed, speckling Ironfang¡¯s face with blood. ¡°No. . .¡± he rasped. ¡°He is.¡±

    Before the words could sink in, Dimitri¡¯s rapier erupted through Ironfang¡¯s chest. The warlord sucked in a sharp breath and dropped Leif, as Dimitri yanked the blade back. Clutching the gushing wound between his ribs, Ironfang fell to his knees, his eyes wide as if he couldn¡¯t comprehend what had happened. Dimitri stood defiantly behind him, blood streaming down his face. Carefully, he placed the tip of his sword where Ironfang¡¯s neck met his shoulder. With a single, decisive move, he drove the blade down to the hilt. Ironfang stiffened like he¡¯d been struck by lightning. He was dead before he hit the ground.

    There was a moment of stunned silence, then the witnesses scattered, yelling wildly in orcish. Leif couldn¡¯t understand them but he liked to imagine they were saying something along the lines of ¡°heroic humans killed Ironfang! Let¡¯s retreat!¡±. He sighed, laying in the mud where he had landed, and stared up at the smoky sky. Then Dimitri leaned into view, ruining the moment.

    ¡°Took you long enough, you bastard,¡± Leif said, a grin spreading across his bruised and swollen face. ¡°Had a nice nap, did you?¡±

    Dimitri smirked back. ¡°Do all Stjornugaardians whine so much, or just you?¡± He offered Leif a hand, which Leif accepted with a chuckle and a cough.

    Back on his feet, Leif felt the full force of the battle hit him. ¡°Kaja. Check Kaja,¡± he stammered, wincing at the stiff pain in his gut. He sorely hoped that the remaining soldiers would be frightened by the body of their fallen leader and choose not to accost them¡ªhe didn¡¯t think he had any fight left in him.

    By the time Dimitri limped over to check on her, Kaja had already stirred. She lifted herself from the mud with a groan, holding her head in her hand. ¡°You alright?¡± he asked, kneeling beside her. He uncorked his canteen and offered it. She took a few grateful sips, the condensation frosting over under her palm. ¡°You were amazing,¡± he said with a smile. ¡°Even I was afraid of you.¡± But the friendly joke didn¡¯t land as he had hoped. Kaja abruptly stopped drinking and shoved the canteen back into his hands with a frown.

    Dimitri opened his mouth to apologize but Amale suddenly burst out of the darkness, kukris drawn and blooded. Following close behind him was Sakrattars.

    ¡°They¡¯re saying Ironfang is dead!¡± Sakrattars cried, his eyes tracing the scene to where the warlord¡¯s body lay. He heaved at the sight of Dimitri¡¯s sword sticking out of the corpse¡¯s spine.

    ¡°He better be,¡± Leif grumbled. Amale cautiously approached the body and placed two fingers against the side of the neck. His paw came away soaked in dark blood, and Amale shook his head. Stepping on the body unceremoniously, Dimitri gave his rapier a few tugs until it slid out. Seeing the way the body twitched and jerked, Sakrattars felt the vomit rising again.

    Then Sakrattars felt a gentle pull on his sleeve. Kaja was next to him, wiping her eyes. ¡°Are you alright?¡± he asked. She nodded curtly, but didn¡¯t meet his gaze. ¡°Jo¡¯s safe,¡± he continued. At that, Kaja stared up at him. ¡°Khez got her to the Red Paws.¡± He left out the part where Jo still hadn¡¯t awoken, nor did the medics think it likely she would survive.

    ¡°We have company,¡± Dimitri said quietly, halting all conversation.

    Out of the billowing smoke, one orc emerged. Then two. Then ten. Dimitri adjusted his grip on his rapier, gesturing with his head for the companions to back away. As they did, the soldiers began to gather around Ironfang¡¯s body. The utter disbelief was plain on their swollen, grime-smeared faces. ¡°He¡¯s dead. . .¡± one whispered. ¡°It¡¯s true. . .¡± The words were repeated through the crowd, some said with anger, some in fear, and some in what sounded like relief. The more prescient among them slipped away quietly, vanishing into the hazy shadows never to be seen again.

    Leif, still dizzy from his beating, stumbled as he tried to sneak away after his companions. Dimitri caught him and wrapped his arm around a shoulder to hold him steady. ¡°Maybe they¡¯ll thank us for freeing them?¡± Leif said woozily. Dimitri frowned.

    The quiet reverence didn¡¯t last long before one voice rose in a commanding shout. ¡°Ironfang named me his successor¡ªForgeheart is mine!¡±

    ¡°By what right?¡± another yelled back. ¡°You¡¯ve won no conquest and taken no lands.¡±

    A third voice. ¡°My clan is the largest. I should be the one to lead us!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d sooner join the fleabags than follow a snorting hog like you!¡±

    Amale drew his bow and notched a tentative arrow. He and Sakrattars were the only ones among them who were in any sort of shape to fight, and even then they would not be able to fend off the growing crowd of enraged orcs.

    ¡°Burn Forgeheart! Make them pay for killing Lord Ironfang!¡±

    One pointed at the companions and their blood ran cold as ice. ¡°They killed him! I saw it with my own eyes!¡±

    ¡°Go!¡± Amale yelped as he let loose his arrow. It struck one of the orcs square in the chest, but only served to fan the flames of anger in the rest. The companions dashed through the courtyard on a straight path to the inner gate, the thunder of heavy boots and bitter curses close behind them. Along the way, they passed dozens of other soldiers¡ªsome looting, some running back towards the southern steppe, and some eagerly joining the frenzied mob.

    When they reached the inner gate, Amale leapt onto a pile of rubble and began firing arrows into the horde. But he might as well have been shooting toy darts for all the good it did in dissuading them. Very quickly he hit the point where he reached back for another arrow and grasped nothing but air. Slipping his bow around his shoulders, he helped Dimitri and Leif get through the breached wall and followed them into Forgeheart proper.

    The whole citadel was in flames. Orcs and ferix fought on every street, in every building, with the glow of orange firelight glinting off their clashing weapons. The air teemed with the sharp cracks of ferix rifles and screams of pain. In the distance, a swath of huge explosions blossomed against the night sky as an ill-fated magazine cooked off.

    ¡°There!¡± Amale pointed at a series of guttering fireballs soaring into the sky. Unlike the orange and red flames that engulfed the rest of the city, these were a bright, iridescent green. At the next corner, he darted off towards them. ¡°Follow me!¡± he cried. The companions, chasing after him, skirted a large puddle of pitch coating the alley.

    Sakrattars stopped in his tracks. ¡°Keep going!¡± he urged the others. Focusing on steadying the tremble in his hands, he drew out a pinch of powder and signed an arcane sigil. He felt a swell of pride as a magical spark ignited the pitch into a wall of flame between him and their pursuers.

    The orcs in front, who had already barreled into the puddle, frantically tried to swipe the spreading fire off their bodies but the ones in back just pushed over their burning comrades, singularly determined to find their warlord¡¯s killers. ¡°There they go!¡± one yelled, pointing at Amale¡¯s tail disappearing around a side alley.

    Light on his feet, Amale ducked and dodged around the rubble, leading the mob away from the path his companions had taken. The orcs were not nearly as agile and trying to cram the whole horde through a narrow passage was like squeezing a river through an ale tap. Amale pulled himself up onto a wooden crate, then hopped onto a catwalk. It rattled and shook as a few of the more sure-footed orcs hauled themselves up in pursuit, using their fellows as handholds and step-stools.

    Without slowing his pace, Amale drew a kukri and slashed through one of the straining suspension ropes. Immediately the catwalk began to unravel, ropes snapping as the sections collapsed one by one. Orcs cried out in alarm as they tumbled down in a tangle of metal, bodies, and garbage. Amale stumbled when he tried to leap for safety, and landed hard on the filthy ground below. Whining and rubbing a fresh set of bruises, he dashed onto the nearby thoroughfare.

    The rest of his companions emerged from a neighboring alley and more green flares soared into the sky just ahead of them. Panting and wheezing, exhausted from fighting for hours then sprinting nearly halfway across the fortress, they turned a final corner. The intersection was fortified with a wall of rubble, scrap metal, and overturned carts. A few dozen ferix hunkered down, their armor gleaming green as another salvo of flares went up, drawing more soldiers to the rally point. Vyrkad Gleamgear rose behind the makeshift ramparts.

    Seeing him, Sakrattars began to shout, ¡°Ironfang¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°Get down!¡± Vyrkad roared. Everyone dropped to their bellies, Amale pulling a stunned Sakrattars down with them. The air exploded with bullets as the entrenched gunners fired off their charges. The pursuing orcs, who had just turned corner, were caught completely off guard, their bodies jerking and reeling as the rounds found their marks.

    ¡°Second rank, fire!¡±

    The first line of soldiers knelt, reloading, while the line behind them rose and took aim. The volley added to the quickly growing pile of bodies, and the still-living orcs began to second-guess their resolve. Many wavered, some turned and ran.

    Vyrkad pulled two axes from his belt. ¡°Get the Imperials to safety,¡± he ordered a few of his troops. Then he raised his voice so everyone could hear. ¡°The bastard¡¯s dead! We just need to clean up his mess!¡± He was met with a resounding cheer as the rest drew their weapons. With a roar like a surging avalanche, ferix poured over the ramparts. The wave of steel and muscle smashed into the orcs like a battering ram. At the front of the line was Vyrkad, bellowing in fury as he slashed and lunged.

    Startled by the crowd of stampeding paws, the companions lurched and wiggled and tried to regain their feet. Kaja jumped and skittered on all fours. Sakrattars curled into a tight ball, shielding his head and neck with his hands. Leif barely flinched as a ferix soldier accidentally kicked him in the face.

    Then, strong, furred arms lifted each of them up. Hugging the wounded companions close, the ferix whisked them away. ¡°You¡¯ve done more than your part, Imperials,¡± one said with gruff admiration. ¡°Let us handle the rest.¡±

    *

    *

    Sakrattars sat motionless against a stack of crates in the parade ground, eyes boring into the slushy mud beneath his boots. The flaps of medical tents whipped and cracked in the cold autumn wind; a steady cacophony of grunts and moans arose from the grid of cots laid out in the field. Sakrattars hadn¡¯t been injured, not really, and he knew that he should go back out and help the ferix fight the remaining orcs, but the besiegement, shelling, and death had taken a mighty toll on his mind. He could hardly hold his spellbook, let alone commit the arcane words to memory, and the last time he tried firing a bow was back in primary school in Arvisian Bay. He wasn¡¯t strong enough to lift the ferix weapons, nor would his tiny dagger do him much good. He wasn¡¯t a healer like Amale and his hands wouldn¡¯t stop shaking enough to be of any help anyway.

    So he sat. Sometimes he threw up. Sometimes there wasn¡¯t anything left inside, so he¡¯d drink water to have something to bring up. Sleep came suddenly and lasted only moments. One second he was staring at the cots where his companions lay and Amale worked, the next he would jerk awake at yet another crackling gunshot. It had been two long, painful days of sitting, waiting, and watching the dying. Days that felt like seconds. Days that felt like years.

    There were times of good news. Without Ironfang to unite them, the orcs fractured back into petty squabbling, incapable of holding back the ferocious ferix counterattack. Several clans had already gathered their warriors and left. Others were satisfied with whatever they could steal and happily absconded with both their ill-gotten gains and their lives. The more fanatical charged recklessly into the jaws of ferix firing squads, believing Ironfang¡¯s claim about Norsivex honoring their sacrifice.

    Sakrattars didn¡¯t care anymore. He just wanted for whoever had to die to die already so it could be over. Did that make him a bad person? Did it even matter? Sakrattars lifted his head as a pair of Red Paws passed him by, disturbing his dark thoughts.

    ¡°Hear that?¡± one asked the other.

    The medic¡¯s round ears perked and twitched. ¡°Naw, what?¡±

    ¡°Exactly, the shooting¡¯s stopped.¡±

    Now that it was brought to his attention, Sakrattars also noticed that there was nothing to pierce the dull ringing in his ears. Moments later, a scout loped through the parade grounds.

    ¡°It¡¯s done!¡± she yelled breathlessly. ¡°It¡¯s over!¡±

    A raucous cheer followed in her wake as the news spread. Some ferix roared victoriously, others laughed and danced. Some were furious that they were being denied a chance to kill more orcs. Still others were repeating paranoid delusions, convinced that Ironfang¡¯s corpse would rise and seek vengeance on Forgeheart.

    Sakrattars couldn¡¯t bring himself to feel anything at all.

    *

    *

    Even though it had been days since shells last rained down upon Forgeheart, the ruined towers still smoldered. The scent of burning metal, explosive residue, and the pungent stench of death was heavy in the air. Piles of bodies burned night and day in the open steppe outside the walls, on dozens of pyres that melted the sparse snow and left blackened, oily soot on the dormant grass beneath. Ironfang had been anonymously burned along with his soldiers.

    Dimitri and Vyrkad looked over the activity in the fortress¡ªover the destroyed gates, the craters blasted through the stone and metal, and the crumbled ramparts and shattered cannons. Even worse than the toll on the city was the cost paid in lives. For every ferix walking through the settlement, there was one in the central courtyard covered in a tarp.

    ¡°The walls of Forgeheart crumbled, but the ferix people held strong,¡± Vyrkad said pensively. He gazed at Dimitri. ¡°We won¡¯t be able to stop them again.¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t be back,¡± Dimitri assured him. ¡°And even if some can be rallied again, they will not be able to muster such a large force. A leader like Ironfang comes once in a lifetime and he¡¯s dead, thanks be to Aegis.¡±

    Vyrkad snorted, his nostrils flaring. ¡°Thanks be to your guts and our gunpowder,¡± he corrected. ¡°Regardless, we will not be able to stay here. Our provisions are gone and Forgeheart cannot be defended with just a few hundred wounded soldiers. Not that there¡¯s much left to defend,¡± he sighed. ¡°We¡¯ll need to disband and return to the wilds of Snowskull.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s another option,¡± Dimitri said.

    Vyrkad turned toward him, ears raised.

    ¡°You gave your lives to vanquish one of the Empire¡¯s most dangerous foes. They may not know it yet, but the Imperials owe you a debt of gratitude. Offering you sanctuary until you get back on your feet¡ªer, paws, is the least we can do.¡±

    ¡°Sanctuary,¡± Vyrkad said, looking down to the nearest ward where several cubs were busy weaving bandages. ¡°Sanctuary would be nice.¡±

    ¡°Finish honoring your dead, then leave this place,¡± Dimitri said. ¡°Take everything you need from the city and scuttle the rest. Then, when you are ready, I will take you and your people to Datharia.¡±

    Vyrkad growled, his tail swishing. ¡°They will attack us on sight.¡±

    ¡°If you went on your own, yes. But the legions would never defy the orders of the Ordo Draconis.¡± Dimitri flashed a charming smile¡ªand caused his bruised face quite a bit of pain. ¡°Grandmistress Anya will honor your people¡¯s request for mercy, especially since you sacrificed so much.¡±

    Vyrkad thought about that for a moment. ¡°And our weapons? What of them?¡±

    Dimitri frowned. Only a few cannons had survived the battle, but many ferix soldiers still had their guns and knowledge of how to build more. The horrific volleys and the carnage that ensued played back in Dimitri¡¯s mind. When things were quiet, he thought he could still hear the explosions, and the screams.

    ¡°Vyrkad,¡± he said grimly. ¡°I wish I had an answer for you.¡±

    *

    *

    Kaja ghosted through the parade grounds, silent and emotionless. She passed by Amale refreshing bandages and doling out medicine. She passed by Tordom and his mother talking quietly with Barzom who, while awake and aware, had lost all ability to move his legs. Tordom gave Kaja a solemn wave and she nodded once in acknowledgement. There wasn¡¯t a single cub, herself included, who was untouched by the consequences of the siege.

    She passed Leif laying in a cot outside, his injuries numerous and painful but not life-threatening. Someone had found Oxhiminn in the rubble, and the axe now leaned against the side of his cot. He was playing some kind of strategy game with a group of cubs, laughing heartily each time they kicked his butt, then clutching his chest in pain.

    Kaja ventured deeper into the medical ward. She saw Tullius laid out, Dimitri by his side. They were surrounded by a team of Red Paws. After getting separated from the group in battle, Tullius¡¯ shield arm had been severed at the elbow. He was only alive because he managed to tie off the stump with a ribbon of some corpse¡¯s clothing. As Kaja went by, Tullius was looking with uncertainty at the steel prosthetic that the smiths were busy installing in its place.

    ¡°What sort of captain outlives all his charges?¡± he moaned. The medicinal brew one of the medics fed him helped with the pain but made his head spin and his thoughts flow without filter. Leo had still not been seen since being injured in the fight, but Tullius knew, in a way only a longtime veteran could know, that the lad was with the gods now. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s better if Aegis keeps my arm! She knew the damned thing was less than worthless while attached to me.¡±

    ¡°Stop, my friend,¡± Dimitri said gently. ¡°Aegis will need all the strong arms she can muster. And that includes yours.¡±

    Finally, Kaja reached her destination: an empty rations box beside a deathly still form. Jo had several attendants to change her dressings and coax water down her throat, but she showed no signs of waking. The Red Paws had cleaned and stitched the wound, but they had no way of knowing how much blood she lost and the risk of infection was high. As they had told Kaja many times, they had done everything they possibly could and Jo¡¯s fate was in her own hands now. Kaja reached out and touched Jo¡¯s forearm. It was colder than she had ever felt it, even in the harsh winter storms of the Goldenwoods. Shuddering, she lowered her head and closed her eyes.

    ¡°You should be resting, too.¡± Kaja looked up to see Sakrattars coming her way. ¡°You¡¯re injured,¡± he said softly.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Kaja replied curtly. She tugged on her dress, well aware of the massive purple and green welt beneath the fabric. ¡°It doesn¡¯t hurt,¡± she lied.

    Sakrattars sat with her in silence as the golden light of sunset settled across the courtyard. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault,¡± he murmured.

    Kaja whipped her head towards him, a fierce look on her face. ¡°Yes it is!¡± she shouted, standing. Before Sakrattars could say anything else, Kaja ran away, hot tears stinging her eyes. She wiped them uselessly and quickened her pace. She didn¡¯t know where she was going but she couldn¡¯t stay there and listen to Sakrattars tell her lies.

    She didn¡¯t stop until she reached the ruins of the outer wall, where the embers of smoldering funeral pyres still burned in the steppeland beyond. She sucked in a trembling breath, then let the tears flow freely, her shoulders quivering with each sob. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said to no one. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry. . .¡±

    Then an unexpected movement beyond the wall caught her eye. She looked up and sniffled, focusing on the darkening steppeland around the pyres.

    A large hound of roiling shadows stalked menacingly through the grass, its eyes glowing like the pyre remnants behind it. Kaja recognized it¡ªshe had seen it before outside Castrum Ustarius all those weeks ago. It felt like a different lifetime.

    But now it wasn¡¯t alone. There was a second hound by its side, its lips curled back in a menacing snarl.

    Kaja¡¯s heart rate quickened, her inner dragon growling at the threat. Her feet were suddenly carrying her through the grass towards the hounds. ¡°What else do you want from me?¡± she cried angrily. ¡°Why are you following me?¡± The hounds lowered their heads and backed away, their shadowy forms melting seamlessly into the darkness.

    By the time Kaja reached the pyres, the hounds were gone.

 Session 18 - Little Bird

    Amale watched helplessly as his patient turned his face away, unseeing eyes staring at some unfixed point in the distance. The wounded ferix soldier took one deep breath, then another, then stilled. Amale waited a few, quiet moments, then stood slowly and pulled the blanket over the soldier¡¯s body. The same story played out all across the grid of cots in the parade ground, as Forgeheart¡¯s army was steadily reduced to a row of covered soldiers waiting for cremation. Amale swallowed but the lump in his throat wouldn¡¯t go away. It might have been easier if the ferix cried out in pain or fear, but they each faced death with a grim stoicism that somehow hurt more to watch. There was no pleading, no grief. There was just. . . nothing. And then they were gone.

    Amale looked down at his paws, stained red from the tips of his fingers to halfway up his forearms. He now knew how the Red Paws originally earned their name.

    ¡°You okay, Amale?¡±

    He responded sluggishly to the familiar voice. It was Tovash, ¡°Ash¡± for short¡ªthe medic who had given him back his healer¡¯s kit and told him to report to the Red Paws after battle. She placed a strong paw on his shoulder and forced his eyes away from the deceased patient. ¡°How long has it been since you¡¯ve slept?¡± she asked tersely.

    Amale shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Ash.¡±

    ¡°How long?¡±

    ¡°Since the battle. Couple days.¡±

    Tovash sighed. ¡°You¡¯re done. Take a break, get some sleep. Come back in a few hours.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t, I have to¡ª¡±

    Ash chuffed, the sound catching Amale off guard. They were amid all this misery and death, and she had actually managed to laugh. ¡°All of us healers are the same,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯ll do whatever we can to help others, but when it comes to taking care of ourselves, we¡¯re lousy patients.¡± She hunched down so they were eye-to-eye. ¡°Look, d¡ª¡± She was about to say ¡®dog¡¯, but remembered their conversation from the previous day. ¡°Er, sorry. What do your people call themselves again?¡±

    ¡°Orrkhae,¡± Amale said, the language of his homeland rolling gracefully off his tongue.

    ¡°Well, Mister Orrkhae, I¡¯m the ranking medical officer here and, since you reported to me, you¡¯re under my command.¡± Tovash¡¯s face hardened. ¡°Go. Sleep. That¡¯s an order.¡±

    Amale wiped an eye, leaving a wet streak of blood on his face. He nodded weakly and began his walk back to the crash tent in an exhaustion-fueled trance, memory and reality blurring together.

    He had never experienced anything like the aftermath of the siege. His role as a healer before had been solely in patching up minor wounds, administering medicine to the sick, perhaps a bit of stitching in a few extreme cases. He had never treated truly dire wounds, and had never lost a patient. That streak was broken soon after he reported to the Red Paws. Then, he lost a second one. Then another, and another after that. He lost his tenth patient, his twentieth. Then he lost count.

    Though he had learned more about healing in the past two days than in the prior two years and had helped save the lives of dozens, he still couldn¡¯t get the faces of the dead out of his mind¡ªthe silent, cold way they accepted death, that look in their eyes when he told them there was nothing more he could do. There was always a flash of feeling before their discipline kicked in. In that moment, Amale could see everything they felt and it was always the same: I am in pain and I¡¯m afraid. He remained by the side of each patient as they died. Each time he watched their lives ebb away, he felt a little bit of himself go with them. Yet he stood vigil each and every time. He didn¡¯t want them to have to pass from the world alone.

    His helplessness in those moments ate at his insides, but even worse was his inability to comfort his own companions. Whenever he checked on Jo, Kaja would turn to him with pleading questions and each time Amale had to break her heart by saying they could only wait and see if Jo recovered. It hurt him almost as much as seeing the wounded die, to see the pain he caused Kaja by not being able to help their friend.

    By the time he reached the edge of the triage site, Amale was crying. He hurried out of sight of the other medics just as his emotions started to overwhelm him. But where could he go? The apartment had been destroyed, and he didn¡¯t want to be around people anymore. Presented with limited options, he ducked through one of Forgeheart¡¯s outer gates, his breath quickening as he made for the open steppeland.

    Healers would be surrounded by pain and fear and death all their lives. They had to immerse themselves in it, to face it as stoically as the ferix, and persevere because people were depending on them. But Amale couldn¡¯t stand the pain. He hated it. He reached under his tunic and clutched the nature goddess talisman that hung round his neck, squeezing it so hard that it cut into his paw pads.

    Why had he ever wanted to be a healer? Why had he cursed himself with this ambition?

    The world around him blurred with tears as he started to run, his exhausted mind falling once more into memory.

    *

    *

    Rain drummed upon the thatched roof of the hut, but the cozy warmth of a crackling fire inside held out the storm¡¯s chill. Itshe Huzi wrapped a blanket closer around his body as he stoked the fire where a bowl of stew bubbled. His mate, Maua Kifi, breastfed their newborn pup in the corner, half-asleep and exhausted. The baby¡¯s pup-name was ¡°Suncaller¡±, as determined by the shaman, but they hadn¡¯t realized just how appropriate it would be¡ªhe frequently woke the family during the night with his cries, as if trying to call the sun back to begin a new day early.

    Their oldest child, Mzuri Ziwa, tried to help her mother with the new pup, but she was twelve years old and pups were not nearly as interesting as her friends¡ªespecially her male friends¡ªwere starting to be. The fact that she was stuck inside with her family so early in the evening mortified her. She gazed out the small window longingly, half worrying that her friends were having fun without her and half cursing the rain for keeping her from them.

    Maua looked up. ¡°Itshe. . . I¡¯m worried about Waterleaf.¡±

    Itshe was silent. He stoked the fire, the soft crunching of coals his only response.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you?¡± Maua pressed.

    ¡°It¡¯s only a little rain, Maua,¡± Itshe said. ¡°You know how he is, he likes being outside and he never goes far. He might be wet and cold and ready for supper, but he¡¯ll be back soon.¡±

    Maua bit her lip. The pup stirred at her breast, sensing his mother¡¯s anxiety.

    Itshe rose, taking the blanket off his body and wrapping it around his mate. It was embroidered with images of Imperial legionnaires offering homage to one of their strange gods. He had bought it in Arsinium, an Imperial outpost town on the borders of Acathia, with some metal coins. It seemed like an odd trade to Itshe, but it was one the Imperial merchants had heartily welcomed. Maua smiled up at Itshe, feeling her mate¡¯s body heat radiating from the blanket. Itshe leaned down and nuzzled her softly, their large ears relaxing back with contentment.

    Just then the leather flap of the hut opened, letting in a blast of cold air and rain. Maua yelped and the pup immediately began to wail. Mzuri, wrenched out of her daydreaming, stared with contempt at what had entered. In the doorway, clad only in the little wrap orrkhae children wore, stood her younger brother, Waterleaf. His fur was drenched to the bone and his wilted ears dripped water all over the floor. He held up a small bird for his parents to see as barely coherent words began spilling from his mouth. ¡°I found a bird and it wasn¡¯t moving and I tried to help it but I couldn¡¯t get it to stand up. I think it''s hurt or sick or I dunno but I can¡¯t help it please I need help it¡¯s hurrrrrrt!¡±

    Maua recoiled, shielding her pup from the cold and the seemingly dead animal Waterleaf had dragged into their home. Suncaller¡¯s cries only intensified. ¡°Itshe. . . Itshe, please, the baby. . .¡±

    Itshe ushered their young son back outside. ¡°Come, Waterleaf,¡± he said. ¡°Let¡¯s have a look at your bird. . .¡±

    *

    *

    Leif spotted Amale hurrying out of the triage site. His ears were droopy and he kept wiping his face in clear distress. Leif¡¯s first instinct was to catch up to him and ask him what was wrong, but his second instinct stopped him¡ªhe had known Amale for years, long enough to know that when his friend was that upset, he preferred to be left alone. Leif watched Amale disappear around a corner of rubble, then continued his own walk into the parade grounds. He might not be able to bring any comfort to Amale at that moment, but there was one person who was hurting and who Leif hadn¡¯t had a proper conversation with since the siege ended. He took a breath and shoved his apprehension deep down into the crevice where he stored all his inconvenient emotions.

    He found Kaja at her usual post, ever watchful over Jo¡¯s deathly still form. ¡°Hey, Kaja,¡± he greeted awkwardly. ¡°Can I sit with you?¡±

    Kaja¡¯s eyes flicked over to him briefly but she didn¡¯t reply.

    Taking her silence as the best answer he could hope for, Leif took a seat next to her. ¡°Jo¡¯s tougher than any of us. She¡¯ll be okay,¡± he said. Kaja sniffed softly and Leif put a hesitant hand on her shoulder. She flinched under his touch but didn¡¯t move away. ¡°You were pretty tough out there too, you know,¡± he continued. ¡°Not many of us can say we went up against the mighty Ironfang and lived to tell the tale. We¡¯ll be legends!¡± This time Kaja turned her face away from him. Leif removed his hand and looked down. How could he make things right between them? ¡°Did I ever tell you how I got this scar?¡± he said, pointing to a crescent-shaped mark under his left eye.

    Kaja looked over tentatively, then shook her head.

    ¡°My brother, Ulric, was playing with wood axes and got the bright idea to throw one at my head. I was only five or six at the time, you should have seen the ass-whoop¡ªer, scolding our parents gave him.¡± Leif smiled at the memory. ¡°I don¡¯t think he meant to hurt me, though. Or maybe he did. You never know with brothers, hah!¡±

    Kaja didn¡¯t say anything at first. ¡°You have a brother?¡± she asked quietly.

    ¡°Yeah, and two sisters. All older. I¡¯m the baby of the family so I got picked on and beat up like you wouldn¡¯t believe! But I gave as good as I got.¡±

    ¡°I. . . see.¡±

    Leif waited another few moments but when it became clear that Kaja wasn¡¯t going to say anything more, he stood. ¡°Well, I better go check on that elf. You know how delicate he is,¡± he said. Kaja tried to smile, but her eyes were sad.

    Once Leif was a good distance away, he paused to curse his pounding heart and tried to still the tremble in his fingers. It was just Kaja. Sweet, little Kaja. He had nothing to fear. Dragons were wild and dangerous, sure, but not Kaja.

    Not Kaja. . .

    *

    *

    More than a mile away from Forgeheart¡¯s outer walls, Amale finally collapsed to his knees. Gasping for air as his grief and exhaustion took full control, he hugged his arms around himself and surrendered. He wept until his abdominals burned, until his eyes were nearly swollen shut. He wept until, finally, the edge had been taken off and he was able to think once more. He opened his aching eyes, the silent grassland slowly coming into focus.

    Neither the rolling, forested hills of Balthissica, where he and Leif served their time in the auxilia, nor the urban sprawl of Aurelia had truly given his mind room to wander like the Snowskull Steppes. It reminded him sorely of home, all it needed was a few acacia trees and warm, red dust instead of snow, so seeing the ruin that Ironfang¡¯s ambition wrecked upon the land and its people affected Amale deeply.

    Amale¡¯s people were not warriors¡ª they were hunters. They killed for food and they killed to defend themselves. He supposed the lives he had taken on the steppe could be considered to be in self-defense or in the defense of his pack, however, if that were true, then why did they, too, weigh so heavily upon him? Not for the first time, he envied Leif. Things always seemed so easy for him. No matter what action Leif took, no matter the outcome, he was always certain he was in the right. For Amale, things were not so clear.

    He lifted himself up from the snow and sat crossed-leg in the frozen grass. The sun had gone down and the sky was a dark, bluish-gray, the wind subsiding to a gentle breeze. Amale closed his eyes and banished all thoughts of the shiftless ghosts haunting his steps. He shut out the caws of the carrion crows rising over the battlefield. He did not think of the siege or the dying or the Irkallu, nor did he think of his friends¡ªof loyal and brave Leif or little Kaja, waiting anxiously at Jo¡¯s bedside. He pushed all of it from his mind and, for a moment, existed purely in the present. He felt the cold snow under his paws. He felt sharp grass tickling his back. He felt the cool wind ruffling his fur.

    He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

    *

    *

    Waterleaf followed his father into the hut with the bird cradled in his paws. Itshe¡¯s private hut was smaller than the family one, and contained only a bed, a firepit, and a few possessions. As they entered, Waterleaf¡¯s brave face finally failed and he began to cry.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, son?¡± Itshe asked, his voice soft as he knelt down. He reached up to wipe the rain and tears from Waterleaf¡¯s cheek.

    ¡°Is. . . mother mad at me?¡±

    ¡°No, Waterleaf, she isn¡¯t. You just surprised her, that¡¯s all.¡±

    Waterleaf sniffled and looked down at the bird. It was a common savannah bird, often found pecking at the dirt around termite mounds in search of a crunchy meal. It wasn¡¯t moving, save for its chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. ¡°Can. . . can you help it?¡± Waterleaf asked, his voice thin.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, little one. Let me see,¡± Itshe said. Waterleaf gently transferred the bird into his father¡¯s paws. As Itshe examined it, Waterleaf peered over his shoulder and occasionally uttered a concerned whine. Itshe winced when he found the cause of the bird¡¯s condition¡ªtwo tiny punctures near its throat. The bird had been bitten by a small, venomous snake familiar to the region. ¡°Oh, Waterleaf. . . I don¡¯t think the bird will live.¡±

    Waterleaf¡¯s eyes widened and flooded with tears anew. ¡°What? No. . . no! I want it to live! I want to help it!¡±

    Itshe leaned forward, pressing his forehead against his son¡¯s. ¡°This is the will of the mother-goddess,¡± he said softly. Waterleaf clutched at his father with wet paws. ¡°We can¡¯t change it now,¡± Itshe continued, ¡°but we can still make our guest feel a little better.¡±

    ¡°H-how?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll show you.¡±

    Plucking some errant straw from the roof, Itshe began weaving and shaping a small cradle. When he was done, they filled it with dried grass, fur, and cloth and set it near the firepit in the center of the hut, where the glowing embers could keep it comfortably warm. Waterleaf gingerly slid the ailing bird into the nest and sat nearby, gently petting the small animal¡¯s feathers.

    Itshe sat at his son¡¯s side, humming a soft lullaby.

    *

    *

    First, there was nothing.

    Then, there was an awareness¡ªthe waking of a consciousness from a deep, dark dream. There was no up, no down, no ground, no sky, just endless nothing in all directions. Jo, suspended in the void, opened her tired eyes. Where was she? She tried in vain to remember the last thing that had happened to her, to remember anything that had happened to her. She bowed her head into a palm and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was no longer alone.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    A giant leopard, black as night and with spots like starlight, was standing before her, studying her with its soulful white eyes. Jo felt exposed under its gaze, as if the leopard could see into her heart and hear the words in her mind.

    ¡°Melcuni,¡± Jo said, her voice swirling with emotion. Her feelings echoed through the void, manifesting into wisps of curling smoke before dissipating into nothingness. ¡°You came. Even for someone like me.¡± As she said the words, she felt the weight of the old burn scars across her back. She had committed the ultimate betrayal against her people, and yet. . .

    Melcuni didn¡¯t move, didn¡¯t speak. She stared with unblinking scrutiny, betraying no thought or emotion.

    Jo drew in a breath. ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± she said.

    Once more, she was met with silence. Melcuni shook her head slowly, left then right, her shadowy form distorting as the void began to warp. Jo felt a surge of confusion, then fear. Melcuni was supposed to guide her through the gate to the next life, so why, then, was her goddess leaving her? After years of waiting, Jo couldn¡¯t handle the idea of the doors being shut to her¡ªof becoming a wandering soul lost to her clan forever.

    ¡°Please!¡± she cried out, reaching a hand towards Melcuni¡¯s vanishing form. ¡°Let me see my sister! Let me see my son! Please!¡±

    Then, for the first time since she had awakened, Jo felt something tangible¡ªthe warmth of a fire, the soft touch of a blanket, a biting cold nipping at her face. She heard a voice, a familiar, timid voice. . .

    ¡°Kaja?¡± The name was on Jo¡¯s lips before she remembered who it belonged to. Melcuni was nearly gone, the void falling away piece by piece, but Jo didn¡¯t seem to notice anymore. ¡°That¡¯s right. . . I left Kaja all alone,¡± she murmured, eyes wide. ¡°I need to. . . I need to get back to her.¡±

    Melcuni lowered her great head and her eyes flashed with a blinding light.

    *

    *

    Jo jolted awake and instinctively tried to stand, but a sharp pain shot through her whole body and her head instantly began to swirl and swim. Collapsing back, she took stock of her situation. It was night and she was laying on a straw mat, covered with a thick fur blanket, beside a fire. Her cestuses and armor had been stripped away, reducing her to her loincloth and a thick mass of bandages winding all the way from her pelvis to her breasts. Turning her head weakly, she recognized that she was somewhere between the walls of Forgeheart, surrounded by other cots and medics with lanterns quietly making their rounds through the grid.

    Gradually, the memories of what happened in the final moments of her awareness came back to her. For a split second she was afraid of being attacked again, but the cold night air remained undisturbed by the sound of battle. The siege was over, then, and the fact that she was still alive told Jo what the ultimate outcome had been.

    There was a rustle somewhere close and Jo squinted into the darkness, spotting a pair of reflective eyes. She tried to speak and was alarmed by how scratchy and sore her throat had become. Just how long had she been asleep? ¡°Is that you, Kaja?¡± she rasped.

    Kaja rushed to her side, dropping the material she had been gathering to feed the fire. She knelt down beside Jo¡¯s cot. ¡°You¡¯re awake,¡± she said, as if she didn¡¯t truly believe it and saying the words would make it more real. Her lip quivered and her blue eyes were glassy and swollen. Had she been crying? ¡°I¡¯ll get you water¡ª¡± she said hastily.

    ¡°Come here,¡± Jo said, reaching out a hand and wincing from the pain it caused. The blanket shifted and Jo saw her heavily bandaged torso for the first time. It was soaked through with dark blood where the orc had sunk his greataxe during the siege.

    Kaja grasped Jo¡¯s hand in hers, then frowned when she saw the bandages. ¡°I¡¯ll make more,¡± she said resolutely, though the exhaustion was palpable in her voice. Jo wondered how long it had been since her last sleep.

    ¡°Oh, this?¡± Jo forced a smile. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. It barely even hurts anymore,¡± she lied.

    ¡°I¡¯ll make more,¡± Kaja repeated firmly, her eyes downcast.

    ¡°Kaja,¡± Jo said, her tone serious. Kaja looked back at her. ¡°You saved my life. Thank you.¡±

    Kaja sucked in a breath, her somber gaze straying to that faraway place Jo had often seen it go. Several moments of silence passed before Kaja was able to speak again. ¡°I was scared,¡± she whispered.

    ¡°War frightens all of us. You were very brave.¡±

    Kaja shook her head, snow falling gently from her hood. Her hand tightened around Jo¡¯s own. ¡°No. I was scared you would die.¡± A tear broke free and slid down her cheek. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said, her voice catching in her throat as she struggled to hold back a sob.

    Jo tried to smile, to put Kaja¡¯s mind at ease. ¡°Come on, I won¡¯t die so easily. Especially with you watching over me.¡± But Kaja¡¯s expression just fell further and the tears kept flowing.

    ¡°It¡¯s my fault,¡± she whimpered. ¡°If I didn¡¯t stay¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stop,¡± Jo said. ¡°The only ones at fault are the guy who took a swing at me and me for not being careful enough.¡± Kaja sniffled and nodded, but didn¡¯t seem convinced. Jo rubbed her back soothingly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I worried you,¡± she said softly. ¡°I¡¯m okay now, though, so you need to sleep. Will you do that for me?¡±

    Kaja didn¡¯t commit either way, but she nestled down in the snow next to Jo. Soon enough, her breathing became slow and regular.

    When one of the patrolling Red Paws finally arrived at Jo¡¯s bedside, Kaja was still sleeping. ¡°You¡¯re awake,¡± he whispered. ¡°How are you feeling?¡±

    ¡°Been better,¡± Jo said curtly. When the medic tried to press her for more detailed answers, she cut him off with her own questions. Wearily, the Red Paw recounted the siege as he had done for countless other patients before. Ironfang was dead, his forces scattered. Forgeheart lay in ruins and there were rumors about seeking sanctuary in Datharia once they were well enough to make the move. ¡°And my companions?¡± Jo asked.

    ¡°Some injured, but all alive¡ª¡±

    Jo felt the relief spread through her like a warm draught.

    ¡°¡ªexcept one.¡±

    Instantly, her blood ran cold. ¡°Which?¡± she asked. She knew it wasn¡¯t Kaja, thank the spirits, but finding out which one of her friends was dead was a dreadful prospect all the same.

    ¡°The young legionnaire,¡± the medic said. ¡°We found him while clearing out the dead. Poor man took half a dozen wounds, then was buried in bodies. I¡¯m sorry. He was given an honorable cremation along with the other fallen soldiers.¡±

    ¡°I. . . see,¡± Jo said. ¡°Thank you.¡± The medic nodded, checked Jo¡¯s vitals and bandages, then left to see to his other patients.

    Jo stared up at the stars. So Leo had died. Those final moments came back to her more clearly¡ªhow she had rushed off to find Kaja, how Leo had followed her, trying in vain to convince her to retreat with the rest of them. She vaguely remembered seeing him being struck shortly before everything went black. Guilt took hold like a leaden weight in her chest. He was so young, a newly-wed with his whole life ahead of him. He was afraid of dying, yet Melcuni saw fit to call his soul back.

    But not Jo¡¯s, even though she had begged.

    Jo took a ragged breath, her nostrils filling with fire smoke and the rancid, metallic scent of old blood. Every so often, the pained groan of another patient broke through the silence. Jo was once a warrior of Culacalli, the battlefield as familiar to her as home, but she never could get used to the aftermath. She closed her eyes, laying her free arm across her forehead. She had survived another one, somehow. She had lived when so many others had died. A silent tear slipped out from under her arm and ran unchecked down her cheek.

    She was a nobody without a name, a reckless exile, an oathbreaker who brought nothing but ruination upon the people in her life¡ª

    So what reason could Melcuni possibly have to spare her?

    *

    *

    By the time the rain storm ceased, so too had the bird¡¯s breathing. Waterleaf cried softly. Itshe held his son, letting his fur absorb the tears.

    ¡°This bird is very fortunate,¡± Itshe said softly.

    Waterleaf looked up at him, his moist eyes filled with confusion.

    ¡°He died in peace and safety, and as he passed, someone who cared about him shed tears of love,¡± Itshe explained. ¡°We should all be so lucky.¡± Waterleaf was a little too young to fully appreciate the words, so he sniffled, wiped his nose, then leaned in for another embrace.

    After the cry, father and son brought the tiny body in its cradle out of the village and into the savannah. They stopped at a great acacia tree and laid the cradle reverently at its base.

    ¡°There,¡± Itshe said. ¡°Other animals will come, and the great mother will reclaim her child.¡± Orrkhae honored their own dead in the same way, leaving them in a peaceful place so they could return to nature.

    Waterleaf was quiet for a while, still looking down at the small body. Then a fresh sob passed through him. ¡°I can¡¯t. . . stop crying,¡± he stammered.

    Itshe knelt in the wet grass. ¡°Don¡¯t try to stop, let the feelings go only when they are ready,¡± he said. ¡°You are a sensitive young man, and that is a good thing. You might be a teacher, a caretaker, or even a healer one day. But most importantly, you will be a good person.¡± He wiped another tear from Waterleaf¡¯s face and Waterleaf managed a small smile. ¡°You stayed by the bird¡¯s side until the end, you would not abandon it even though you knew your heart would break when it died. You showed both compassion and courage. Who wouldn¡¯t be proud of such a son?¡± Itshe said. In the distance, the orange lights of dozens of cooking fires flickered to life as the village of Pasa settled down to the evening meal. ¡°I think it¡¯s time you left your pup-name behind.¡±

    Waterleaf¡¯s tearful eyes went wide. ¡°Really? What will my true name be?¡±

    ¡°This night was very important. You showed me the man you might become and I want your name to preserve this story.¡± Itshe paused. ¡°I think your name should be ¡®Little Bird¡¯. Any time you hear it, you will remember that you can be both brave and kind, and in fact they are often the same thing.¡±

    Waterleaf smiled, his ears lowered, as he reflected on his father¡¯s words. He nodded. ¡°I like that,¡± he said, straightening up. He was no longer a pup, and he wanted to act the part.

    Itshe thought for a moment, translating ¡®Little Bird¡¯ into the ancient orrkhae dialect from which they all took their names. He placed his paws on Waterleaf¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Then from now on, my son, you are Amale Inyoni.¡±

    *

    *

    Slowly, like melting ice, Amale felt his worries dissolve away. There were no words, but he felt acceptance. Forgiveness. Understanding. A resolve to stay his course, to sacrifice some of his own inner peace to protect his friends and serve a worthy cause. The feeling grew, filling him with courage. He almost felt like he was flying, with cool air flowing beneath his body. Elation replaced despair, bravery replaced fear, confidence replaced doubt.

    Amale opened his eyes. The sun had risen in the east. The pink and orange light gave every blade of grass and every rock a fiery sheen. A flock of crows fluttered into the air, scattering across the sky like a dissipating shadow. Among them was a hawk. It soared up, then banked, and perched on a rock in front of Amale, staring at him with keen eyes. Amale didn¡¯t remember seeing any hawks in the steppes during their journey, and this one looked familiar, like one of the species native to his homeland of Acathia. They were both a long way from home.

    For a long time, the two looked at one another in silence. Then the hawk hopped forward, its head turning sideways. A few painted beads that had been woven into the feathers of his crest rattled softly with the movement.

    ¡°Koa,¡± Amale said. The name came to him like an instinct or a resurfacing memory. He gently touched the talisman around his neck. Was this bird¡¯s name the mother-goddess¡¯ parting words, after their intimate, night-long conversation? Or did he somehow always know the name? He extended his arm and the hawk accepted it. As Amale turned back towards Forgeheart, Koa fluttered to his shoulder, bright eyes scanning the horizon.

    Already, Amale felt like part of his wounded spirit had been healed.

    *

    *

    Dimitri passed the bowl of ferix liquor to Leif, who took a hearty chug before nearly handing it off to Kaja. Chuckling at his own joke, he reached further, placing it in Sakrattars¡¯ hands instead. Sakrattars sniffed it, then quickly passed it onto Tullius. Overjoyed at the news that Jo had awoken, the companions had been resting in higher spirits while they waited for her full recovery. Shortly after she woke up, Vyrkad presented Dimitri with a clay jug. ¡°If you drink it, it¡¯ll save me the trouble of carrying it all the way to Datharia,¡± Vyrkad had said gruffly, with a grin that betrayed his reasoning.

    As the companions drank the gift, Amale lay in a corner of the tent, turned away from them and snoring peacefully. He had slept for almost a full day after coming back from the steppes and still needed frequent naps. Koa was always perched nearby, keeping a constant vigil. Amale had been cagey about the presence of the bird, saying simply, ¡°Koa came when I needed him¡±. Leif privately suggested to the others that they just leave the topic alone for now.

    ¡°Well! We¡¯ll have a damned good story to tell them back in Aurea, eh?¡± Leif said, wiping the drink from his mustache. ¡°When are we leaving again?¡±

    All eyes turned toward Dimitri, who accepted the bowl back after Tullius had taken a light sip. ¡°It will be a while,¡± he said. ¡°The ferix are packing up their entire civilization, and we can¡¯t move until their wounded are strong enough to travel. Ours too.¡± He glanced at Tullius.

    ¡°Quit fussing, I¡¯m fine,¡± the Captain groused. He rubbed his chin, feeling the several days¡¯ worth of white stubble on his cheeks. He hadn¡¯t been without a clean shave since he had joined the Legion, but he didn¡¯t yet trust his ferix-steel arm enough to attempt using a razor.

    ¡°You are welcome to remain with us and return to Aurea as a group, of course,¡± Dimitri said. ¡°Though if you¡¯ve had enough of this place, I understand.¡± He smiled wryly. ¡°I won¡¯t be sorry to put it behind me either, if I¡¯m being honest.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, but we have business in the mountains,¡± Sakrattars said, recalling the plan to search for other zmaj survivors. But with Jo¡¯s injury and the early turning of the seasons, Sakrattars was concerned. He had convinced Jo of his plan back in Aurea, but would she still want to honor their agreement?

    ¡°In the mountains?¡± Dimitri asked, surprised. Based on Leif¡¯s expression, the news came as just as much of a shock to him. Sakrattars really didn¡¯t want to get into it, with Kaja and Tullius staring right at him, and the very real chance that Dimitri would have a professional objection to them taking Kaja once more out of the Ordo¡¯s reach¡ªeven if it meant possibly bringing other zmaj into the fold.

    Luckily, he was spared when the tent flap opened and a gust of chilly air interrupted the conversation. A miner greeted them curtly, then dragged in a collection of items the salvagers had found in the rubble of their apartment. Sakrattars was pleased to discover that, while his quills had snapped and ink pots broke, his journal and scroll case remained intact and his extra spell components were safe in their pouches. Leif laughed, holding up his undamaged, but sadly empty, flask. He was further cheered by the sight of his water skin. After seeing how the ferix drank from the community water basins, the prospect of filling his own skin with fresh water from the northern lake was a joyous one.

    Kaja didn¡¯t have any belongings. Everything she used was either on her person or was something Jo or someone else in the party would lend to her. She did pick out Jo¡¯s massive pack though, and resolved to bring it to the wounded natiuhan¡¯s bedside. Leif, warning Dimitri and Tullius to save some of the ferix drink for his return, helped Kaja carry the pack to the medical tent where Jo had been moved since waking. Then he left so they could have some privacy.

    Jo was still bed-bound, but the threat to her life shrunk with each passing day. This was excellent news to Kaja and the others, but Jo herself had been uncharacteristically listless. She would spend hours staring quietly at the hide walls, revealing nothing about her inner thoughts. This behavior worried Kaja but the Red Paws didn¡¯t seem too concerned. They told her that sometimes soldiers came back different, and that it could just be temporary. Nevertheless, it had nothing to do with her physical recovery.

    ¡°Kaja,¡± Jo said warmly. Her smile, though a shade of what it was before her injury, was genuine. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    Kaja chewed her inner lip. ¡°Yes,¡± she said. It still hurt when she walked or bent over or moved at all, really, but she didn¡¯t see any point in saying so. ¡°Amale let me hold Koa today. Leif wanted to too but Koa wouldn¡¯t let him touch him.¡±

    Jo laughed, a breathy noise, then a heavy silence passed between them.

    ¡°How are you?¡± Kaja ventured quietly.

    ¡°I¡¯ll live.¡± It was Jo¡¯s go-to response to that question for the past few days. Kaja didn¡¯t like it. ¡°I¡¯m okay, Kaja,¡± Jo added, perhaps sensing Kaja¡¯s feelings. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about me.¡± She inhaled deep and closed her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll be on my feet before you know it,¡± she mumbled. Kaja cast her eyes down. Then an idea came to her. She flipped up the top of Jo¡¯s pack and began rummaging through it for the cat effigy that Jo¡¯s sister, Cucoa, had carved.

    Kaja didn¡¯t quite understand religious devotion. She knew that Tullius and Dimitri would invoke Aegis for strength, and that Leif would swear by Orvim¡¯s axe. She had heard Sakrattars call Snihl¡¯ad the White a zmaj ¡°goddess¡±, but that didn¡¯t seem right. Snihl¡¯ad wasn¡¯t a god, she was a dragon. Their mother. And children didn¡¯t serve and worship their mothers, did they? But even though Kaja didn¡¯t understand it, she did know that Melcuni was dear to Jo and that she always seemed to feel better when she had the cat effigy in hand.

    During her digging, Kaja¡¯s hand brushed past a crumpled, folded letter. Not wanting to damage it any more, she took it out and smoothed its creases. She was about to set it aside and return to her searching when she glanced at the letter again. Reading Imperial common was still unnatural to her, but she easily recognized her own name standing out among the rest of the words. Curious why Jo would have a mysterious note about her, Kaja unfolded the paper. It was a letter from Linnea.

    . . .One of the scouting teams discovered the ruins of a village in the central mountains. It was not on any map and the architecture was unlike anything they had seen before. They also found the remains of its people¡ªof zmaj. They estimated they had been dead for around a year. . .

    As Kaja read and understood, a pit opened up in her stomach and she felt immediately sick.

    . . .The likelihood of other survivors seems slim. I don¡¯t know their culture, but no one came back to tend to the dead or to retrieve belongings. My team buried the bodies and said a prayer for them to Aia. It was the best we could do. . .

    ¡°Kaja. . ?¡±

    Kaja whirled around to see Jo staring at her.

    ¡°Kaja¡ª¡± Jo started again, her voice strained.

    ¡°Why did you hide this?¡± Kaja said, cutting her off. Her head was spinning and she spoke as if in a daze. The likelihood of other survivors seems slim. The horrifying words lifted off the page and echoed in Kaja¡¯s head, growing louder and louder. Initially, she had been scared that no one else escaped the attack on her village. But that was before she learned what her people could do. Anya told her that all zmaj carried the dragon¡¯s spirit and so, she reasoned, if she as a child could somehow use it to fight Fallen, then surely her teacher or her dad or the Great Elder had to know how to do it too. They had to. Even if some people were lost in the battle, others had to have gotten away like she did. There was no other reality Kaja was willing to accept.

    ¡°Linnea sent it to me back in Aurea,¡± Jo said softly.

    ¡°And were you going to tell me?¡± Kaja demanded, tears burning at the folds of her eyes. The longer she thought about it, the more it didn¡¯t seem real. Linnea had to be mistaken. The Ordo agents had to be mistaken. No matter how bad the fight, there were always survivors. She had just seen fiery death rain down upon Forgeheart, yet her companions still lived. Tordom and Barzom still lived. Hundreds of ferix still lived. The people of the Skolka were strong. The Irkallu couldn¡¯t have destroyed them all.

    Before Jo could say anything else, Kaja, still clutching the letter in a tight fist, rushed from the tent.

    *

    *

    ¡°Sakrattars.¡±

    Sakrattars started at the sudden sound, then calmed his racing heart when he saw that it was only Kaja. He closed his spellbook and turned to give her his full attention. ¡°Yes?¡± he asked tentatively, noticing Kaja¡¯s tense but determined demeanor. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    What Kaja said next were the words Sakrattars had been hoping to hear ever since the day they met.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take you to my village,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll take you to the Skolka.¡±

    STORY ARC 2: IRON AND ICE

    ¡ªEND¡ª

 End of Arc 2 Art Post - Character Profiles

    Hey everyone! Well that''s the end of Arc 2 - Iron and Ice. Thank you everyone who read and stuck with us throughout <3 <3

    A few fun facts about this campaign arc at the table that I wanted to share with you all:

    1) Jo was actually killed in the siege, but since she went from full health to dead due to an extremely unlucky maximum damage critical hit from a raging barbarian enemy, we decided to let her live. But she wasn''t unchanged from the experience...

    2) Likewise, Barzom was killed in the siege while defending a group of cubs. We commuted his sentence in the story to being severely injured.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    3) Dimitri was downed in the siege (it might have been a little above our CR... lol), so it wasn''t him who actually got in the final hit on Ironfang. Instead that honor went to Amale, with a well timed arrow! But it makes for a better story for Dimitri and Leif to take down Ironfang together, doesn''t it? And Amale still got some time to shine~

    Anyway, please enjoy the character cards! As always, they were drawn by yours truly. Thank you again for all your support!

 Session 18.5 - A Look Back: Kaja

    Juri breached the surface of the icy cold river, eagerly sucking in the restorative autumn air. He wiped the hair from his eyes and dredged up his netted basket to count the catch. Only three, he realized with a tinge of disappointment. Though summer had only just ended, cool winds were blowing into the central mountains and the fish were beginning to settle in deeper waters. Juri was a skilled swimmer and had an excellent hand with magic, but even he could only hold his breath for so long.

    ¡°Come on, Juri!¡± a voice called from the river bank. Though it was the dead of night, Juri could see the other fishermen clearly, their reflective eyes shining in the full moon¡¯s light.

    ¡°Jakub¡¯s still down there!¡± Juri cried back. The water swelled and churned and, as if responding to his name, Jakub surfaced with a giant splash. Juri flinched from the cascade, clutching his precious few fish to his body as he bobbed and rocked on the current. ¡°Be more careful, you bumbling owlbear!¡± he said sharply.

    Jakub shook his head clear of water like a wild animal would, his white hair slapping the sides of his face. ¡°Sorry, Juri,¡± he said with a goofy grin. ¡°Got five, though.¡± He held up his basket triumphantly. Juri snorted, refusing to show the contents of his own basket, as the pair swam back to shore.

    Reunited with the rest of the team, the fishermen compiled their catch then divided it again into even loads for hauling back home. Juri sullenly noted that he caught the least of everyone that evening.

    ¡°Don¡¯t feel bad,¡± Jakub said amicably as they walked back along the mountain path. ¡°You¡¯re probably just distracted. How long has it been since Sveta left for the birthing den?¡±

    Juri felt a pang of worry at the mention of his mate. ¡°Six nights,¡± he replied softly. His thoughts wandered off towards Sveta, as they so often did in the days since she had left the Skolka to give birth. All women went into hiding alone in the vulnerable days before delivery. Juri accepted that it was normal, that it was the way things had always been done, but the dark stories of women leaving for the birthing den and never coming home¡ªlost to the mountain forever¡ªstill haunted him with each passing day. He didn¡¯t know what he would do if he lost Sveta.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry too much, first one¡¯s always the scariest,¡± Jakub said.

    ¡°Come off it,¡± Juri replied with a nervous chuckle, shoving his friend¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You¡¯ve only got one yourself!¡±

    ¡°And she¡¯s just the best,¡± Jakub bragged. ¡°Little Mila looks just like her mother, but she¡¯s got my big personality! She¡¯s such a handful, I might as well be raising two. So say, if you need any advice from an experienced father¡ª¡±

    This time, Juri let out a genuine laugh. ¡°Experienced? Mila hasn¡¯t even seen her second winter. You¡¯re ages too early to be giving advice.¡±

    Jakub¡¯s lips pursed into a sour pout. ¡°Fine then,¡± he said, sighing dramatically. ¡°You¡¯ll find out soon enough.¡± They walked in silence for a while, listening to the hollow coos of night birds nesting in the evergreens and the soft crunching of the forest floor beneath their feet. The silver light of the moon lit the fishermen¡¯s path and made their white scales twinkle like scattered starlight on their skin.

    Juri¡¯s heart constricted. He had a feeling that tonight was different somehow. ¡°Jakub?¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°What is it like. . . when you meet them? Did you feel ready?¡±

    Jakub grinned but Juri was too focused ahead to see. ¡°You¡¯re never ready,¡± he replied. ¡°It¡¯s unlike anything else you¡¯ll ever know.¡±

    It was nearly dawn when the fishermen arrived back in the Skolka. They wound their way through the clusters of modest huts constructed of wood and hide cemented with ice magic, and headed towards the center of the village where a massive structure towered above the rest. It was the tabor, or school, the oldest of the buildings and the pillar of the village. Juri¡¯s eyes followed its swooping architectural lines where the ancient, blue ice climbed up the reddish trunks of the sacred, centuries-old cornerstone trees.

    However, the fishermen were not visiting the tabor. They were there to stash their catch in the neighboring pantry. In the morning, the Teachers who lived in the tabor with the village¡¯s children would take what they needed, leaving the rest for the other adults, who largely consisted of the children¡¯s parents, to pick from. Unlike the other villagers, who only stayed in the Skolka until their children came of age, the Teachers spent their entire lives there, dedicating themselves wholly to raising the generations. One day, Juri¡¯s own children would live within the icy walls of the tabor, just as his mate Sveta had when she was young.

    Juri tried to focus on braiding rope to hang the fish, but he couldn¡¯t shake the preoccupation clouding his mind. ¡°I have to get home,¡± he said suddenly. The others nodded and Jakub placed a supportive hand on Juri¡¯s shoulder. Juri briefly nuzzled Jakub¡¯s hand, said his good nights, and turned down the path towards his and Sveta¡¯s hut. His heart raced and his pace quickened. Tonight was indeed different¡ªhe could feel it in the very core of his being, shaping his every move. Juri paused just outside his home. Gripping the edge of the deerskin door, he sucked in some air then ducked inside.

    Sitting up on a bed of furs was Sveta. Hearing him enter, she turned to face him and Juri could see that she was holding a bundle to her breast. ¡°Well, come say ¡®hello¡¯,¡± she said with a breathy laugh.

    Juri slowly stepped closer, his own breath caught in his throat. The tiny baby turned her head away from Sveta¡¯s breast and Juri looked into his daughter¡¯s eyes for the first time. They were a brilliant blue, as dark as the ice of the tabor, and an exact copy of his own. The top of her head was covered in white fuzz, with four smooth bumps where her horns would eventually grow in. She didn¡¯t cry or make a noise, she only stared at Juri, seemingly as fascinated by him as he was by her.

    ¡°Oh Sveta, she¡¯s beautiful,¡± Juri said, kneeling. His worry instantly melted away as he placed a hand on Sveta¡¯s shoulder and she nuzzled it affectionately. ¡°But you should be sleeping, love,¡± he added gently.

    ¡°I wanted to wait for you,¡± Sveta murmured, leaning against Juri¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I wanted us to choose a name together.¡±

    Juri pulled and patted the furs so they wrapped comfortably around his nascent family. He intertwined his tail with Sveta¡¯s and nestled back with her in his arms. ¡°I always liked the name ¡®Kaja¡¯,¡± he said.

    ¡°Kaja. . .¡± Sveta repeated breathlessly, letting it linger in the air as if trying it out. ¡°Yes, I think it suits her. . .¡± She closed her eyes, her sleepless voice fading to a whisper. ¡°Our sweet, little Kaja. . .¡±

    *

    *

    ¡°Come on out, Kaja,¡± Sveta said, squatting on the frosty groundcover. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to meet your new classmates?¡±

    Kaja, now five winters old, peeked around her father¡¯s leg, his deerskin skirt balled up in her tight, little fists. Her bottom lip plumped and her brow squished into her chubby cheeks. ¡°No!¡± she cried defiantly. She buried her face into Juri¡¯s skirt, as if they¡¯d all just go away if she couldn¡¯t actually see them.

    ¡°How about your Teacher?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± came the muffled reply.

    ¡°Kaja. . .¡± Sveta sighed and stood, placing her hands on her hips in exasperation.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, mentelj,¡± Juri said, flashing an embarrassed smile at the Teacher who had been patiently waiting as the drama played out.

    The Teacher, named Matus, held up a hand and shook his head, a curtain of gray-white hair swaying against his back. ¡°No apologies needed, dreka,¡± he said.

    The endearment brought with it a wave of nostalgia and made Juri feel like a child again, despite the fact that he had seen dozens of winters and had a child of his own. ¡°Kaja!¡± Juri said as sternly as he could muster, determined to show that he had some semblance of authority. ¡°Come out and say ¡®hi¡¯.¡± He moved his leg forward and back, only for his daughter to cling harder.

    ¡°Don¡¯t. . . wanna. . !¡± Kaja whined, her voice rising and falling with Juri¡¯s movements. Eventually, she let go and fell back onto her bottom. Exposed and thoroughly upset, Kaja stared up at Matus¡¯ imposing figure¡ªwith his long, curved horns and scarred tail¡ªand immediately began to cry. Sveta and Juri fought the urge to come to their daughter¡¯s rescue. This was an important moment in her life¡ªin all children¡¯s lives. It was a rite of passage to enter the tabor under the mentorship of a Teacher, and to prevent that from happening would be doing Kaja a greater disservice. Juri held Sveta¡¯s hand and squeezed, his heart breaking at the sound of Kaja¡¯s cries.

    ¡°Oh, dreka. . .¡± Matus said gently as he knelt down on the ground beside her. She flared her tail fins defensively and huffed out a harmless cloud of hoarfrost. Matus only smiled, his soft wrinkles deepening. ¡°Oh ho!¡± he exclaimed playfully, pretending to cower. ¡°So scary!¡± Kaja stopped crying, confused by Matus¡¯ reaction. Seeing that he had got her attention, Matus spoke a few words of magic and brought his hand between them. Kaja watched, transfixed, as a tiny owlbear, made of shimmering frost, materialized on Matus¡¯ palm. The owlbear stomped and swayed, and stood on its hindlegs and roared in silence. Then it collapsed back into nothing. Kaja slowly reached her hand out and touched where the magical beast had been. ¡°Do you want to know how to do that?¡± Matus asked. ¡°I can teach you, if you want.¡±

    Kaja nodded shyly and allowed Matus to help her to her feet.

    ¡°We¡¯ll take good care of her,¡± Matus said to Sveta and Juri, placing a reassuring hand on each of their shoulders.

    ¡°We know,¡± Juri said. ¡°You be good, Kaja. Listen to everything mentelj has to say.¡±

    ¡°When will Kaja see daddy?¡± she asked timidly.

    ¡°Soon, Kaja,¡± Juri promised. Though children often visited with their birth parents after entering the tabor, the day would eventually come where Kaja thought of Matus and her classmates as her core family. It was the way things had always been done, but it didn¡¯t make it any easier for Juri to let go of his baby girl.

    ¡°We love you so much, Kaja,¡± Sveta said, squeezing Kaja¡¯s little shoulder.

    Kaja nuzzled her mother¡¯s hand affectionately. ¡°Bye, mama,¡± she said with a sniffle. Then she followed Matus into the tabor and the doors of her old life quietly shut behind her.

    *

    *

    Kaja had never seen anything like the tabor, having spent the entirety of her short life within the confines of her parents¡¯ one-room hut. The walls were a pretty, shiny blue and the floor was lined with a patchwork of furs that felt plush and luxurious under Kaja¡¯s bare feet. Sunlight streamed through the needles of the alpine sequoia trees at the cornerstones, filtering through the building¡¯s open roof and glistening across the interior surfaces. Kaja stared up in undisguised wonder, watching as Teachers and older children moved about on the balcony above. She didn¡¯t understand how they could have gotten all the way up there¡ªit looked too high to jump and the slick ice couldn¡¯t be very easy to climb.

    Rows of rooms branched out from the main hall, each covered with a hide door creatively engraved by the children who called the room home. ¡°This is our room, okay Kaja?¡± Matus said warmly, his hand hovering over one of the door flaps. ¡°Are you ready to meet your classmates?¡± Kaja looked at the designs etched into the door¡ªodd squiggles, an uneven circle, something that might have been an attempt at a fish¡ªand nodded shyly. Matus pulled open the flap and stepped inside.

    Four children, all older than Kaja but still the youngest she had seen, were playing on the floor, wrestling, throwing bones and sticks, and talking loudly. When Matus entered they all went silent and perked up, and suddenly Kaja felt four pairs of excited eyes trained directly on her.

    ¡°Children, this is Kaja. She is¡ª¡±

    One of the little girls let out an enthusiastic squeal, cutting Matus¡¯ introduction short. Within moments, she had crossed the room and tackled Kaja in an overly-friendly embrace. Kaja, who already had tears welling up from the attention she was getting, began to cry again.

    ¡°Mila!¡± Matus gasped, picking the two girls off the ground. ¡°Kaja is still very little, you need to be gentle with her.¡±

    The girl, Mila, opened her mouth to protest her innocence. ¡°But¡ª¡±

    ¡°No ¡®buts¡¯, Mila. And Kaja, dreka, please don¡¯t cling. . .¡± But by then the other three children had gathered around, which only made Kaja move closer and sob harder.

    One of the boys pointed a finger at her. ¡°She¡¯s a crybaby,¡± he said matter-of-factly. The words stung Kaja and she tried, unsuccessfully, to hold her breath to stop the tears. Matus readied a reprimand but Mila spoke up first.

    ¡°Be nice, Feo!¡± she scolded. She stepped toward Kaja, her head bowed. ¡°Sorry about Feodor. And sorry for hitting you,¡± she said. ¡°Can we be friends? My name is Mila.¡±

    Kaja wiped her nose on her arm and blinked back the remaining tears. Mila was loud and rash but Kaja could sense a genuine goodness inside her. Maybe they could be friends. ¡°Okay,¡± Kaja sniffled.

    ¡°That¡¯s very nice of you, Mila,¡± Matus praised, as surprised as he was pleased. ¡°Well, Kaja, you already met Mila and Feodor. This is Jaromil¡±¡ªhe gestured to a lanky boy, who gave her a shy wave¡ª¡°and Chessa¡±¡ªthe girl, the oldest out of all of them, flashed Kaja a big smile¡ª¡°Let¡¯s all welcome Kaja to our family.¡±

    ¡°Yes, mentelj!¡± the children shouted in unison.

    ¡°Very good,¡± Matus said proudly. He looked on as they crowded around Kaja, who tried her best to match their energy even through her lingering apprehension. When she seemed like she was going to cry again, Mila would take it upon herself to make the other children quiet down. Soon, Kaja was clinging to Mila the way she had clung to her father and then Matus.

    Chessa wanted to show Kaja where they slept, and Feodor wanted to show her where they ate. But Mila decided that being inside was too boring and they should all take Kaja out to play instead. She rushed past Matus with a rallying cry and the other four children followed without question, their shouts and laughter fading into the distance.

    *

    *

    For Kaja¡¯s first several winters at the tabor, she received no formal teaching. Instead, Matus would bring her and her classmates on supervised excursions, encouraging them to find ways to relate to one another and to the world around them. They would go swimming in the valley and hiking to the tree line to look out across the mountain range. Kaja saw a gleam of wonder in Mila¡¯s eyes whenever they imagined what sorts of lands lay beyond the mountains. Mila was the only one among them who didn¡¯t believe the frightening stories Matus told them of the outside world. Kaja wished she could be as brave.

    It was after Kaja¡¯s twentieth winter when Matus began their regular lessons. He taught the children survival skills, geography, language, and magic. Mila was a brilliant student, despite her impatience with Matus¡¯ lectures. Kaja admired the confidence Mila had in facing anything new or different¡ªno matter what it was, Mila never even entertained the idea that she could fail. And, to Kaja, it seemed like she never would.

    Kaja herself, on the other hand, struggled to keep up with the others. She had trouble paying attention and frequently found her mind wandering. She mixed up the names of the zmaj clans and couldn¡¯t recall the locations of their ancestral lands. She even still had to carry a blowgun¡ªa weapon that only younglings, who couldn¡¯t properly refine their magic yet, would use. No one made fun of her for it though, not even the older children on the upper floor, because they knew that Mila would be coming for them if they did.

    Matus did have some mild concerns about Kaja¡¯s lagging development but even though she wasn¡¯t the most studious nor the greatest with magic, she had a love of art¡ªwhether that was etching leather or sculpting snow¡ªand had an unflinching kindness towards others. She comforted new students scared of leaving their parent¡¯s homes for the first time, and was always looking for ways to make her friends happy. And, to Matus, those were equally valuable traits for a young zmaj to have.

    Then, when Kaja was thirty winters old, something out of the ordinary happened.

    A hunting party left one night and returned to the Skolka injured and shaken. They said they were stalking a lone deer on the mountainside when suddenly a pack of wolves burst out of the foliage. Startled, the party scattered and a couple got hurt in the chaos. Fortunately, the wolves were more interested in the deer than in the hunters, but the incident was cause for alarm: wolves had not been seen on the mountain for as far back as the eldest Teacher at the tabor could remember. After that night, more reports steadily trickled in¡ªseveral saw the wolves, others saw owlbears. One even claimed they saw a white warg, a fearsome beast who would have had to migrate down from the polar wilds in the north.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The Teachers came together and made what would prove to be a very unpopular decision: the children would no longer be allowed beyond the village borders. This shocked and frustrated all the children in the tabor no matter their age, but Kaja and her classmates were just beginning to approach the cusp of adolescence and felt the harsh injustice of it all the worst. Feodor and Jaromil lamented canceled fishing trips, Chessa was upset that their first pilgrimage to the sacred glacier, Dusanek, would be delayed. Mila whined and groaned and pleaded with Matus, but their Teacher had to refuse her every time. Kaja didn¡¯t mind the new rule at first but she soon felt bad that her friends were so upset, so she found it in her heart to resent it too.

    ¡°It¡¯s not fair!¡± Mila cried, scooping up a stick and whacking it against a shrub bush as they walked along the outskirts of the Skolka. ¡°We¡¯re finally old enough to go beyond the village by ourselves and they take it away from us!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s for our own safety,¡± Chessa replied, echoing Matus¡¯ words to them earlier. Though Chessa was as disappointed by the development as any of them, she reverted to the responsible, level-head she always had been. ¡°What would you do if you came across an owlbear?¡±

    ¡°Owlbear!¡± Mila rolled her eyes. ¡°They¡¯re just big dummies. You wave your hands, flare your tail, and make some noise and they bolt. My dad says he has to chase them from the river valley every autumn.¡±

    ¡°And your dad is a whole lot bigger than any of us. Do you think an owlbear would be scared of you?¡±

    Mila grumbled and whipped the stick into another bush. Kaja and the boys remained quiet; the arguments between Mila and Chessa were frequent enough that they knew to just stay out of it. ¡°I can handle a stupid owlbear,¡± Mila muttered. She took several swipes at the air with her stick then tossed it away into the forest. It made a muted thunk as it landed in the snow. Mila looked after it for a moment, then a mischievous smile parted her lips. ¡°What if we just go out to the bluff?¡±

    Chessa shook her head. ¡°No, Mila, we¡¯re not doing that.¡±

    ¡°Come on, Chessa!¡± Mila groaned. ¡°The bluff isn¡¯t that far and we know the way. We¡¯ll be back before mentelj knows we¡¯re gone.¡±

    ¡°Nuh uh, no.¡± Chessa crossed her arms stubbornly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it would be bad,¡± Jaromil said, surprising everyone with his interjection.

    Mila¡¯s face lit up at his words. ¡°See? It¡¯ll be fine. Feo, we can break the ice at the pond and see if we can catch anything. Wouldn¡¯t that be more fun than hanging around here?¡±

    Feodor shifted his weight, his eyes bouncing back and forth between Chessa and Mila. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Mila. . .¡±

    Mila turned away from him and towards Kaja. ¡°Jaja?¡± she prompted hopefully.

    Kaja was torn but when Mila used her special nickname and looked at Kaja with so much promise, she couldn¡¯t possibly say no. ¡°I¡¯m with Mimi and Jaro,¡± Kaja said softly. Mila squealed and threw her arms around Kaja¡¯s neck in excitement.

    ¡°Fine, I give up!¡± Chessa sighed, her tail whipping in irritation. ¡°We¡¯ll go to the bluff but only for one sun movement. Then we come straight back.¡±

    ¡°Oh, mentelj decided she wants to come after all?¡± Mila teased.

    Chessa turned her nose up. ¡°It¡¯s safer if we stay together. And if something bad happens, I¡¯m not gonna be the one to tell our actual mentelj that I let you dumb dreka go out there alone.¡± With the matter settled, the children headed out with Mila eagerly taking the lead.

    It didn¡¯t take long to reach the bluff, a rocky outcrop overlooking where a meandering mountain stream temporarily pooled into a small pond. Though it was now frozen, the bubbling waterfall there was famous in the Skolka for having some of the coldest, freshest water around. The children had been there many, many times under Matus¡¯ close watch, but it was the first time they were there alone.

    Feeling a contagious thrill at breaking the rules, the children settled in to play. Feodor set to work digging through the snow layer on the pond, while Mila and Jaromil chased each other across the frozen surface. Soon, snowballs were being thrown and the ice fishing project fell by the wayside as a full-on snow fight broke out. Even Chessa was beginning to laugh and enjoy herself, dodging a throw by Mila and hitting back with a swift retaliation that left both girls giggling and screaming.

    Kaja smiled and bent to scoop up some snow to join in, but a few animal tracks on the edge of the pond¡ªthe tiny, delicate pitterings of a mouse framed by the rhythmic prints and nose pokes of a pursuing fox¡ªcaught her attention instead. The possibility of finding the animals was much more interesting than the snow fight, so Kaja dropped the handful of snow and began following the winding trail. What if she could see a fox, with its marvelously fluffy tail and adorable pointed face?

    But when the tracks led further into the dense woods, Kaja hesitated. She didn¡¯t want to stray too far from the others, and definitely didn¡¯t want to go out of sight. She spent a few moments considering her options, then decided she had to go back to the bluff.

    A soft noise snapped Kaja¡¯s gaze back to the trees. A nearby needle shrub rustled and shifted, and Kaja felt her heart pound as an animal emerged from hiding. At first she was elated, thinking she had found her fox. But it didn¡¯t take long for her to recognize that it was much too large¡ªit was actually a lone wolf, unnaturally thin beneath its thick winter coat. It lowered its head and bared its teeth at her.

    Kaja ran. She cried incoherently to her friends, who all immediately looked up from their play. Seeing the wolf pursuing her, they panicked and fled, running back up the bluff and towards the safety of the Skolka. Kaja followed them, her legs aching and lungs burning. She reached for the blowgun at her hip, wondering if she should use it. The tiny darts were certainly not enough to fell a wolf, and would probably only serve to further enrage it. Even through the enveloping fear, Kaja felt ashamed that she couldn¡¯t control her magic the way her friends already could.

    ¡°Keep going!¡± Chessa cried as the children bounded up a large snow drift. ¡°Just a little further!¡± Jaromil crested the top, then Chessa, then Mila and Feodor. Kaja watched as each of them disappeared on the other side. She felt her feet heavy in the snow. How close was the wolf? Was it even still chasing her? She didn¡¯t dare look. Kaja finally reached the top and looked into the eyes of Mila, who had glanced back to make sure she had made it¡ª

    ¡ªthen the ground gave way and the world vanished.

    Before Kaja could register what was happening, she was swallowed by the snow. She hit her arm on what she assumed was a rock, then landed at the bottom of a hollow cave. She groaned and picked herself up, staring up at the hole she had left behind. It hadn¡¯t been that far of a fall, but had been a thoroughly unexpected one. Unable to see what was going on above, she listened breathlessly to a disembodied, guttural snarl and several loud thumps of feet or paws running across the surface.

    Then Kaja heard Mila scream. Her eyes went wide and her stomach plunged as panicked images of the wolf attacking her friends flashed through her mind. The seconds went by like minutes, and then all went quiet.

    ¡°Jaja?¡± Mila¡¯s familiar voice called. Her face appeared on the other side of the hole and, within moments, she was surrounded by the other three children.

    The relief of seeing them washed over Kaja like cold water. ¡°Where¡¯s the wolf?¡± she asked, still worried.

    ¡°It¡¯s gone,¡± Mila replied. ¡°I yelled at it after you fell and it ran away.¡± Kaja was wonder-struck. Mimi had faced the wolf to save her?

    ¡°Or maybe it just knows not to go near the Skolka,¡± Feodor chimed in. Mila elbowed him and they began shoving back and forth.

    Chessa pushed them both out of the way. ¡°Are you okay, Kaja?¡± she fretted. ¡°Are you hurt?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m okay,¡± Kaja said, letting herself assess where she was for the first time. The cave was small, no bigger than their room back at the tabor, and so low in places that even Kaja had to duck to avoid hitting the icy rock walls. On one side was a dip, layered with fresh snow instead of boulders.

    ¡°Should we tell mentelj?¡± Chessa wondered to the others, the concern plain in her voice.

    ¡°N-no!¡± Mila protested. ¡°Then we¡¯d have to tell him where we were.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯d never let us out of the Skolka ever again,¡± Jaromil added desperately.

    ¡°Well then how do we get Kaja out of there?¡±

    ¡°I think I can dig out,¡± Kaja reported, giving the fresh snow a few experimental scoops. But her friends weren¡¯t listening so, taking matters into her own hands, she began to burrow and wiggle, pressing the snow up and away and feeling very much like a little mole tunneling through soil. It wasn¡¯t long before her hand burst into empty air and a cool rush of wind pushed back her hair. When she emerged, Chessa and the others were still arguing about what to do to save her.

    ¡°Mimi! Everyone!¡± Kaja waved to get their attention. ¡°Come see!¡±

    ¡°Kaja!¡± they screamed in surprise. They hopped and skidded down the drift, their voices full of excitement and relief. Mila tackled Kaja into the snow. Kaja laughed and nuzzled their cheeks together.

    ¡°You came out of here?¡± Jaromil asked, peering through the small tunnel. Kaja nodded and, one by one, each of the children crawled through and into the cave.

    ¡°Wow, this is amazing!¡± Feodor gasped once he was inside. ¡°It¡¯s like a secret hideout!¡±

    ¡°Maybe it can be. . .¡± Mila said thoughtfully. When all eyes turned to her, she continued, ¡°what if this becomes our secret place? It¡¯s away from the Skolka but it¡¯s also safe.¡± She looked at Chessa specifically. ¡°We can play and talk and hide cool stuff in here.¡± As Mila painted the picture, the others could see the vision. It was a way they could leave the Skolka without truly breaking the rules. No dangerous beast would be able to fit through the entrance. They would be safe¡ªand that¡¯s what the rule was trying to accomplish anyway, right?

    ¡°A place just for us,¡± Chessa said dreamily. ¡°I like it.¡±

    ¡°This is even better than the bluff. Good find, Jaja.¡± Mila smiled and placed her hand on Kaja¡¯s shoulder.

    Kaja flushed and rubbed her cheek on Mila¡¯s hand. Her friends were happy and she had been the one to provide it¡ªwhat more could she ever want?

    From then on, the children would slip away from the tabor every chance they got in order to visit their secret place. Time passed and the cave became more homey as they decorated it with things like wooden slab seating covered in furs, crudely woven fishing nets, and a set of shiny stones they had collected during a supervised trip to the river. Kaja etched a piece of leather with each of her friends¡¯ likenesses, added herself in the middle, and put it up on the wall. When Mila gushed about Kaja¡¯s talent, Kaja hid her face behind the pouch of tools.

    The cave became even more special to the children than their rotating rooms at the tabor. It was a place that was all theirs, a space under their complete control. It was where they laughed, where they fought, where they made up. It was where they could talk about anything, without the worry of anyone else overhearing. They talked about their dreams, their desires, what they wanted to do with their futures. Chessa wanted to be a Teacher, Feodor and Jaromil wanted to be fishermen. Mila had the most dangerous wish: she wanted to see what lay beyond the mountains with her own eyes.

    ¡°My dad told me stories about an endless lake filled with poisonous water and impossibly huge fish,¡± Mila related with a mixture of awe and longing. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that sound amazing? He¡¯s always wanted to go see if it¡¯s real.¡± She sighed wistfully. ¡°I¡¯d love to see something like that one day. What else is out there?¡± No one said anything but their silence hung heavy in the air. They all knew the stories the Teachers told of the places beyond the mountains, of the selfish, murderous people who lived there and the unspeakable horrors their greed and lust attracted.

    ¡°What about you, Kaja?¡± Chessa said, trying to steer the conversation away.

    Kaja started, not expecting to be called out. ¡°I-I don¡¯t know,¡± she stammered.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know what you want to do when you grow up?¡±

    Kaja blushed, suddenly embarrassed. She had never thought about it. Life outside of the tabor, without her friends and their secret cave, seemed unfathomable. A part of her never wanted it to come to an end.

    ¡°You¡¯ll know one day, Jaja,¡± Mila said sagely, as if she weren¡¯t just a single winter Kaja¡¯s elder. ¡°And if not, then just come with me to see the world!¡±

    The thought of leaving the central mountains frightened Kaja, but she liked the idea of staying by Mila¡¯s side forever. She imagined their adventures, just the two of them, as they explored foreign lands and discovered things that not even mentelj knew about. Kaja didn¡¯t care about seeing the endless lake, but she wanted to be there when Mila saw it, to see her friend¡¯s eyes alight with wonder again and again. All of a sudden, Mila¡¯s dreams became Kaja¡¯s dreams, and she wanted to do anything she could to see those dreams fulfilled.

    As long as she was by Mila¡¯s side, Kaja thought that perhaps she could handle anything.

    *

    *

    By Kaja¡¯s thirty-ninth winter, the children began to sense that something was truly wrong. Being some of the oldest students at the tabor, Kaja and her friends were now housed on the upper floor, and the balcony¡ªthey would come to learn¡ªmade for an excellent hiding place to eavesdrop on whispered conversations among the Teachers below. They spoke of new and strange beasts prowling the valley, eating up much of the fish and animals the Skolka relied on for food. Hunters and fishermen were forced to split up, sometimes even individually, to cover enough ground to collect the food the village needed. One returning hunter even reported seeing a large, striped cat with a pair of long, curved fangs roaming the lowlands, a creature that was completely foreign to them all. The Head Teacher sent messengers to neighboring Skolkas for the first time in many winters, with some reporting back similar experiences and concerns.

    The rest never came back at all.

    There was even talk of abandoning the Skolka and moving to higher ground, where the beasts would be less likely to follow. However, most were loath to leave the tabor, which had stood for over one thousand winters, and argued that moving would just make the food scarcity worse. There was also the youngest to consider, as they were not yet as tolerant of the cold as the older children and adults. But as time passed, the pressure to leave only mounted.

    ¡°If we¡¯re gonna leave the Skolka anyway, why not just go beyond the mountains?¡± Mila groused. Hugging her knees to her chest, she rocked back and forth impatiently using her tail as a balance.

    ¡°But those beasts came from beyond the mountains,¡± Feodor pointed out. ¡°If they are what¡¯s leaving, imagine what is driving them away.¡± Kaja frowned as her mind conjured up images of giant wolves, fangs dripping with blood, and serpents the size of rivers.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know that,¡± Mila argued. ¡°That¡¯s the whole problem. We don¡¯t know!¡±

    ¡°But the Teachers said¡ª¡±

    Mila rocked one final time, letting herself fall onto her back, her arms spread wide. ¡°And have any of them actually been there? They¡¯re just telling us stories about stories.¡± Her eyes shifted away from the cave roof, then she rolled over and got quiet.

    Chessa opened her mouth to say something, but she paused, her expression suddenly alert. ¡°What is that?¡±

    The others didn¡¯t know what she was talking about at first, but then they all felt it too. Mila sat up, and everyone exchanged anxious glances as silent dread wrapped around them.

    ¡°We should go back,¡± Chessa said. It was one of the few times her suggestion went unchallenged.

    When Kaja and the others arrived back at the tabor, a group of villagers was gathering in front and the Teachers of the youngest students were busy ushering their wards inside, despite the children¡¯s protests. Initially, Chessa was nervous that their absence had been noticed, but it soon became clear that something much more pressing had the adults¡¯ full attention. Kaja stood on her tiptoes and ducked around, but there wasn¡¯t any angle where she could see what was happening at the center of the crowd. She glanced around and spotted her parents, whose swishing tails indicated uncertainty but whose heads were bowed in reverence.

    ¡°Dreka!¡±

    Kaja turned towards the familiar voice and saw Matus emerge from the commotion. He waved them over.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening, mentelj?¡± Jaromil asked quietly. No one had told him to be quiet, but it somehow felt correct.

    ¡°Mila, stop that jumping,¡± Matus scolded. ¡°You know better.¡± Reluctantly, Mila stopped but still fidgeted as she tried in vain to catch a glimpse. Apparently satisfied with the adjustment, Matus turned to the rest of the children. ¡°A Great Elder has come down from above the treeline. You must show him proper respect.¡± He looked meaningfully at Mila as he said this.

    ¡°Yes, mentelj,¡± she mumbled back.

    Kaja was taken aback by the news. Great Elders hardly ever descended below the treeline and certainly never visited a Skolka. What was going on?

    Following Matus, the children joined the rest of the villagers. Jaromil, who had grown in the past few winters and now towered above his classmates, sucked in a breath when he laid eyes on the stranger at the center of the gathering. One by one, the others found places to stand where they could watch but, as the shortest among them, Kaja still couldn¡¯t see above all the horns. It was only when Matus gently pulled her to stand in front of him that Kaja finally saw just who had set the entire Skolka on edge.

    The Great Elder was the oldest zmaj Kaja had ever seen, with massive, gnarled horns and a thick, serpentine tail. His scales and hair, once shiny and white as snow, were dulled by a yellow-gray tinge. He walked with a hunch, dependent upon the support of a tree branch, the well-worn bark gently rimed beneath his fingers. But for all his physical frailties, he had an aura of commanding power that each and every zmaj in the Skolka instinctively feared.

    The Head Teacher approached the visitor. ¡°Great Elder. Welcome.¡± He said with a bow, his eyes carefully diverted from the Elder¡¯s own.

    ¡°Thank you, dreka,¡± the Elder replied, his deep voice trembling with an energy that bolted through Kaja¡¯s spine. ¡°My name is Bonifac. I am sorry to disturb the Skolka, but the wind carries tales of fell things and the mountains rumble as the balance shifts.¡±

    ¡°Fell things?¡± the Head Teacher repeated. ¡°You mean the beasts roaming the mountains?¡±

    ¡°Worse,¡± Bonifac said. Confused murmurs rippled through the Skolka, but Bonifac continued. ¡°An unusual number of Elders missed our pilgrimage to Dusanek this winter, and many Skolkas have gone quiet. Our people are disappearing, but why I do not know. So I asked Dusanek for his advice.¡± Words of respect came to every zmaj¡¯s lips at the mention of the ancient glacier. Inhabiting the saddle between two mountains directly to the east, legend went that the sacred dragon, Snihl¡¯ad the White, formed it with her icy breath thousands of winters in the past. Bonifac sighed, his shoulders slumping further. ¡°Dusanek could give me no answers, but he instructed me to come here. He told me this is where I will be needed, so it is here where I will stay.¡±

    ¡°Please, Great Elder, take our home,¡± one young adult offered. ¡°We would be honored.¡± Her mate nodded in agreement.

    ¡°Your offer is kind, dreka, but I would like to be just outside the Skolka,¡± Bonifac said. ¡°It has been many long winters since I lived below the treeline and I find it crowded, and the climate uncomfortably warm.¡±

    ¡°Great Elder!¡± Mila cried, unable to contain herself any longer. Matus swung his head in her direction, mortified. ¡°Great Elder! What if our people are leaving because of the beasts? What if they are heading beyond the mountains?¡±

    ¡°Mila!¡± Matus said, horrified. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Great Elder,¡± he hastily apologized. But Bonifac just lifted a hand to silence him.

    ¡°Our people have not left the mountains since the days of Snihl¡¯ad the White,¡± Bonifac said.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean we never can though. Great Elder, sir,¡± Mila added quickly after a look from Matus. ¡°The beasts can¡¯t destroy a whole Skolka, the people would have to leave willingly. And if they aren¡¯t here anymore, where else could they be except over the mountains? What if they¡¯re waiting for us to join them?¡±

    ¡°Oh, dreka. . .¡± Bonifac murmured warmly, though his smile was sad. ¡°I suppose it¡¯s a possibility.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± Matus said firmly, shooing the children back towards the tabor. ¡°Up to the room, it¡¯s time for lessons.¡± Mila groaned and Feodor stuck out his tongue, but all of them obeyed however reluctantly. ¡°I apologize again, Great Elder.¡± Matus bowed politely and took his leave.

    Bonifac watched them go. He stood in the courtyard until every last villager had gone and he was alone. ¡°There are worse things out there than wolves and owlbears, dreka,¡± he said quietly. Then he shuffled away towards the border of the Skolka to build his new home.

    The moons passed and the people of the Skolka grew used to Bonifac¡¯s looming, yet mysterious, presence in their lives. The winter snows thawed, the mountain bloomed, fawns were born, and the days grew long. And before they knew it, the summer birds were leaving in noisy flocks and the air grew chill again as the sun crested low on the horizon.

    It was that autumn when Mila¡¯s father, Jakub, disappeared.

 Session 19 - Codex

    Kaja stood motionless, eyes scanning the span of tangled peaks where the Grayspurs met the Central Calthian mountain range. In the distance, glinting under the light of the setting sun, was a blue and white swath painted between two mountains, as if a mighty river once surged through and was set frozen in time. Though Kaja had never seen it from the east, she knew it wasn¡¯t any ordinary glacier¡ªit was Dusanek, the glacier sacred to her people, and her and her companions¡¯ destination. If any of the people from her Skolka survived that night, they would have sought shelter and safety within Dusanek¡¯s hallowed caverns. And even if they weren¡¯t at Dusanek any longer, there were surely pilgrims or Great Elders there who would have news for her. Kaja felt her stomach turn at the thought of facing any survivors, of having to admit to them that she abandoned them when she could have stayed and fought; but even worse was the fear that Linnea¡¯s letter was right, that the Skolka had been lost along with all its people, and there was no one left to scold her.

    A sharp wind blew back Kaja¡¯s cloak and whipped her long, white hair around her body, but she didn¡¯t flinch from the cold. She hadn¡¯t been ready before, and maybe still wasn¡¯t, but she knew that she had to see the truth with her own eyes. She had to know if she was truly alone.

    Kaja turned away from the sights and back towards her companions, who were huddled together near a miserable fire below the ridge. The unseasonable cold wasn¡¯t as kind to them as it was to her. Even Leif¡¯s Stjornugaardian blood chilled in the harsh, icy wind.

    ¡°I just want you all to know that this is ridiculous,¡± Sakrattars said, as he used a small knife to chip ice out of the spout on his water skin. He upended it, hoping for a drink, but nothing came out. ¡°I bet they¡¯re in the middle of celebrating Nargosia back home, drinking mulled wine with hot apple-plum pies. . .¡±

    ¡°Quit your belly-aching,¡± Leif grumbled, stoking the fire with a frost-covered stick. ¡°You¡¯re the one who wanted to come up here in the first place.¡± Wrapped in a thick, ferix-made rhinoceros fur cloak, he was decently comfortable despite the icicles growing in his beard. Nearby, Amale was completely concealed under a similar cloak, with only the tip of his nose poking out under the hood. Occasionally a discontented huff of steamy air would leave his nostrils¡ªhis only contribution to conversation in the days since they left the Snowskull Steppes and climbed the mountain pass. Koa was perched on his shoulder, fluffed into a near perfect sphere, his sour expression matching his master¡¯s.

    ¡°Well, yes,¡± Sakrattars said haughtily, ¡°and I still maintain it was the best decision. But why is it so cold? It¡¯s only autumn.¡±

    Leif laughed. ¡°Fancy elf spends his entire life south of Barsicum and never experiences the real seasons. Bet your books didn¡¯t prepare you for it, did they?¡±

    Sakrattars pursed his lips. He didn¡¯t want to admit that Leif was right, but he also didn¡¯t want the smug bastard to have the last word. Before he could respond, however, Kaja rejoined them at the fire and Sakrattars ended up biting his tongue. She had been different since the siege on Forgeheart, more withdrawn and quiet, and with less light and curiosity in her eyes. Sakrattars lowered his gaze back to his water skin and continued chipping away at the frozen spout. Suddenly his argument with Leif seemed petty and inconsequential.

    Kaja sat by herself just outside the ring of the fire¡¯s light. ¡°How are you feeling?¡± she asked quietly, her tone cool. No one needed clarification on who she was talking to.

    Jo, propped against an icy boulder and bundled tightly in a rhino-fur cloak, opened a single eye and regarded Kaja tentatively. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me,¡± she said, her voice strained. She stared into the wind-whipped fire, feeling very much like the weak, guttering flames struggling to stay lit. ¡°I¡¯m more concerned about you.¡±

    Kaja furrowed her brow and folded her knees into her chest, looking away without response. She had barely spoken to Jo since the aftermath of the siege, except for business-like check-ins on Jo¡¯s recovery. She didn¡¯t talk about Linnea¡¯s letter nor did she outwardly express her feelings about Jo keeping the letter¡¯s contents secret from her. Jo knew that Kaja was still angry with her though, and maybe she was wrong for not trusting Kaja with the news of her own people¡¯s fate sooner, but she also couldn¡¯t help but notice that Linnea¡¯s letter had had all the effects she had feared. She recognized the haunted look in Kaja¡¯s eyes, the suffocating terror held at bay by a single spark of yearning hope. With each step they took into the mountains, Kaja took a step back in the past, resembling the tormented girl Jo found in the Goldenwoods more with every passing day.

    Mistaking Jo¡¯s expression for one of physical pain, Amale shuffled closer, his cloak shedding a soft layer of snow as he moved. He looked at her with concern, his ears laid back slightly. Jo understood his unspoken question. ¡°I¡¯m fine, you don¡¯t need to check it,¡± she said, placing a hand over her bandaged midsection. Amale stared at her for a few moments longer, then accepted the answer reluctantly.

    Another cold gust buffeted their makeshift camp, making the fire flicker and everyone but Kaja shiver in its grasp. Leif looked up at the sky. ¡°Storm¡¯s coming,¡± he mused. Sakrattars groaned. Amale exhaled in displeasure, then froze. His nose twitched and he turned his snout upwind, his hood sliding down as his ears stood at attention. The companions followed his line of sight.

    Through the gathering gloom were three wolves standing upon a distant ridge. Their heads were low, their piercing eyes glinting in the fading light.

    Sakrattars¡¯ teeth chattered, and not just from the biting cold. ¡°Do they. . . want to eat us?¡±

    Jo waved off his concern. ¡°Relax, they¡¯re just hoping for scraps. Unlucky for them.¡±

    ¡°Are you certain?¡± Sakrattars asked nervously. ¡°Maybe they smell blood.¡± His gaze darted to Jo¡¯s bandages. She had had a miraculous recovery during their time in the ruins of Forgeheart, but her wounds still oozed and needed regular dressing changes.

    ¡°Not to say the fancy elf is right,¡± Leif interjected, a tinge of worry entering his voice, ¡°but those are big wolves. Could they be wargs?¡±

    Amale stood up slowly. ¡°Direwolves.¡± He turned to his companions. ¡°We should leave, find shelter.¡± It was the most he had said in days. He looked back, but the wolves had vanished behind the ridge. Sakrattars helped Amale gather their things, and Leif stamped out what was left of their pathetic campfire.

    As they hit the trail once again, snow began to fall, first in flakes, then in flurries, and finally in thick, heavy curtains. Wind howled over the ridges, blowing streams of snow off the mountaintops that made it look like the peaks were flying huge pennants of frost. Sakrattars braced against the wind, shielding his eyes from the worst of the storm. ¡°I think they¡¯re following us!¡± he yelled over the roaring din.

    Jo glanced back and caught a glimpse of a direwolf loping through the blizzard along their distant flank. It looked like the pack was trying to get out in front of them. ¡°Kaja! Get behind us!¡± she cried. Kaja, who strode through the blizzard with little difficulty, paused for a moment but ultimately didn¡¯t obey. Jo clenched a fist, cursing her injury for an innumerable time. If she were healthy, three direwolves wouldn¡¯t stand a chance against her sabercat form. She had lived as a cat in the central Calthian wilderness for years and was never once accosted.

    The companions increased their pace, doubtful they could outrun the wolves but also faced with no other choice. They half-jogged, half-jumped through the heavy snow, puffing frosty vapor as the temperature plunged. Amale squinted against the blizzard, desperately searching for any place that could be defensible. He whispered to Koa and launched the bird into the frigid, turbulent air. If the wolves didn¡¯t get them, they¡¯d freeze to death exposed to the storm. They had to find shelter.

    Koa vanished into the gray clouds, only to reappear moments later, circling and shrieking above the rushing wind. ¡°This way!¡± Amale cried, gesturing for the others to follow Koa¡¯s lead. They crested the next ridge and immediately froze in place.

    Speckled throughout the valley below lay the snow-covered ruins of a grand city. Here and there, peeking through the moss and ice and decay, were faint glimmers of what appeared to be orange metal. Beyond the city was a sheer cliff, too smooth to be natural. Even through the storm, the companions could make out the shadows of huge geometric designs carved up the cliff face, reaching all the way up into the foggy sky. What looked like a giant door was set at the base of the cliff, a pitch dark shadow indicating it was slightly ajar.

    Sakrattars was briefly overcome by the sight. ¡°Where¡ª¡± he started.

    One of the direwolves howled, snapping the companions back to reality. Though they could not see the beasts, their ears told them that they were close. Very close.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think, just jump!¡± Leif said hastily. Without pausing to take a breath, he leapt from the ridge and started sliding down the icy slope on his back. Kaja was next, followed closely by Jo. Amale whined in protest before following suit. Sakrattars took one last look at the ruins from above, then jumped down after the rest. Something felt odd about this place, as if it were trying to draw him in.

    At the base of the ridge, Leif rolled over in mid-slide, sinking Oxhiminn into the ice to slow his descent. He screeched to a stop amid a cloud of powdered ice, just in time to catch Kaja from her fall. She stiffened at his touch and recoiled from him the moment she regained her footing. Leif frowned. Jo was not the only one who Kaja had grown distant from in the aftermath of the siege.

    The companions regrouped, shaking off the snow and dashing into the maze of ruins. The remains of the long abandoned buildings had been fully exposed to the elements; their exteriors, carved directly from the bedrock, were eroded and their ceramic roofs lay in piles of broken tiles. Twisted metal beams reached out of the debris, their dark orange surfaces blotted with blue-green rust. The wind screamed through the city, accompanied by the haunting calls of the pursuing direwolves. Amale¡¯s ears perked and swiveled, even as he fled. There were five distinct howls now.

    Once they reached the base of the cliff, the exhausted companions fell through the gaping entrance, ecstatic at finally finding an enclosed space. Koa folded his wings and dove in after them.

    ¡°Close the door!¡± Sakrattars wheezed, his hands on his knees. Suddenly, he sucked in a sharp breath and his eyes went wide. Jo didn¡¯t seem to notice the change. She stared up at the door, itself as tall as the grandest Imperial building and constructed of solid metal, and shook her head in disbelief.

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding, right?¡± she said, incredulous. But no response came from Sakrattars.

    ¡°One. . . two. . . four. . . there¡¯s seven of them out there now,¡± Leif said grimly, his grip tightening around Oxhiminn¡¯s handle as he peered around the door. Amale drew his bow and Kaja narrowed her eyes, the distinct crackle of dragon magic coursing down her arms. ¡°Wait. . .¡± Leif continued, squinting out into the storm. ¡°Something¡¯s not right.¡±

    Outside, the wolves wove through the ruins: searching buildings, digging frantically in snow drifts, nosing through dense patches of brush. They wandered as if lost, their ears turning this way and that in confusion. They often glanced at the cliff face, but never approached. Apparently accepting that they lost their quarry, the pack melted back into the blizzard and did not reappear.

    Leif breathed a sigh of relief and stepped away from the door. ¡°I think we¡¯re good,¡± he said.

    But Amale and Kaja lingered a moment longer, watching through the darkness that Leif could not. As the rest of the pack dispersed, two of the wolves approached one another, growing taller as they came together. When they met, they were both standing on two legs instead of four. They paused, looking back at the cliff briefly while seeming to converse. Then, they followed their packmates, shifting back to four legs as they strode out of sight.

    Amale and Kaja slowly turned to each other as if to ask, did you see that, too?

    ¡°What?¡± Leif asked tentatively, his gaze bouncing between them. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Amale¡¯s ears lowered as they related what they had seen. A heavy silence hung in the room, punctuated by the whistle of the wind against the door frame. ¡°Are you sure?¡± Leif asked at last, his tone uncharacteristically grave. Amale and Kaja nodded. ¡°Alright then,¡± he said. ¡°We need to get out of here. We need to leave now.¡±

    ¡°And freeze to death?¡± Jo grunted, mirroring everyone else¡¯s thoughts. She winced, clutching her side as she slid to the floor to rest.

    Amale knelt beside her. Seeing the fresh blood staining the bandages, he untied his medical kit from his belt. ¡°We can¡¯t,¡± he said simply. And it wasn¡¯t just Jo¡¯s condition that had him worried. Now that the direwolves had shown such. . . unnatural tendencies, he was no longer willing to assume he could predict their behaviour. They could be waiting for them, hidden somewhere within the ruined city.

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand!¡± Leif urged. ¡°Those weren¡¯t wolves, they were ulfhednar.¡± Seeing the blank expressions on his companion¡¯s faces, he sighed. ¡°They¡¯re spirits, servants of some ancient god. And in Stjornugaard, we all know they exist to keep us idiot mortals away from very bad places. . . places even the spirits fear.¡± He stared around the chamber with wide eyes, like he was expecting something to jump out at him at any moment. ¡°So you see why we have to go! Whatever is in here is going to be way worse than anything out there.¡± He jerked a thumb towards the gaping door.

    ¡°Now hold on, that sounds like a children¡¯s story,¡± Jo said with a groan.

    ¡°It¡¯s not! The ulfhednar are as real as anything!¡±

    As his companions argued, Sakrattars blinked, suddenly aware of where he was. His body felt heavy and the voices of the others sounded like a dull drone as his gaze shifted slowly around the room. They were in some kind of antechamber, the ceiling lost in the darkness high above. Towering waterfalls of ice extended down from unseen cracks in the stone, the result of decades, perhaps even centuries of melt and freeze. He paused, transfixed by the carvings on the walls. The intricate geometric patterns were second to none in their artistry and hypnotizing in their complexity. As he stared, a series of visions and clouded emotions rushed into his mind.

    A rumbling army, shouted commands and flashes of magic. A wave of despair then crushing, all-consuming horror. There was something else too¡ªsomething familiar. Not a dragon, but distinctly draconic. It was¡ª

    ¡°Hey, fancy elf!¡± Leif called, jarring Sakrattars from his trance. ¡°Back me up, will you? I know you don¡¯t want to stay in this creepy place.¡±

    Sakrattars looked at his companions as if he didn¡¯t recognize them. ¡°No,¡± he said quietly. Slowly, surely, he returned to the present but his demeanor was changed. ¡°We can¡¯t leave.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean¡ª¡±

    ¡°There were zmaj here.¡±

    Everyone turned towards Sakrattars in disbelief, none more shocked than Kaja herself. Leif scoffed. ¡°How could you possibly know that?¡± But now he sounded a bit unsure. Why would the ulfhednar try to keep a zmaj from her own kin?

    Sakrattars began to walk, staring up at the architecture in wonder. ¡°I can feel it. This place is brimming with ethereal energy. Something significant happened here, and the zmaj were involved.¡± With his eyes focused above, Sakrattars unexpectedly tripped on debris spread across the floor. He gazed down and was instantly snapped from his reverie as an old skeleton, surrounded by adventuring gear, scattered beneath his feet. A small sphere of orange metal rolled out of the unfortunate explorer¡¯s worm-eaten backpack, clinking softly across the stone.

    Leif pointed at the skeleton, vindicated. ¡°Look! That¡¯s going to be us if we don¡¯t listen to the ulfhednar!¡±

    Ignoring him, Sakrattars picked up the metal sphere and turned it around curiously. It was the size of a grapefruit, with beautiful, circular patterns delicately etched onto its surface. As he examined it, he felt a tug on his sleeve. It was Kaja, staring anxiously up at him.

    ¡°Do you really think there are zmaj here?¡± she asked softly.

    ¡°At some point, yes,¡± he replied. ¡°Whether they still are, I don¡¯t know. But something still is.¡±

    Kaja nodded. ¡°I. . . feel it too.¡± Then she grew quiet. She did sense something, that much was true, but it wasn¡¯t the same feeling she remembered from her past, when she was surrounded by her friends and family in the Skolka. This was different, like a primal fear crawling up her spine. It was a dark dread that she had come to associate with evil.

    Before Sakrattars could respond, a startling vibration shocked his palm and a burst of speech from an unfamiliar voice echoed throughout the antechamber. He dropped the sphere in alarm, eyes scanning the room for the unknown intruder. Leif and Kaja closed in around him, forming a defensive position around Amale and Jo. Jo tried to shuffle to her feet but was gently forced back down by Amale. She muttered a curse in natiuhan. ¡°What in the Abyss was¡ª¡±

    The mysterious voice interrupted her thought, speaking a different language but still unintelligible. Sakrattars thought he recognized the language¡¯s sound, though he couldn¡¯t understand the words. It didn¡¯t help that the voice was slightly warped, unnaturally hollow and metallic like the speaker was wearing an iron bucket on their head.

    The voice spoke again, in yet another language. Sakrattars and Kaja immediately looked at each other. This time, it was speaking in Draconic.

    ¡°Greetings, new user. Please state your name.¡±

    Sakrattars swallowed, still trying to locate where the voice was coming from. ¡°Uhh. . .¡±

    ¡°Your user name will be ¡®Uhh. . .¡¯¡± the speaker replied, mimicking Sakrattars¡¯ voice perfectly. ¡°If you are satisfied with your username, please say ¡®yes¡¯. Or please state a different username.¡±

    ¡°No¡ªum, Sakrattars. My name is Sakrattars?¡±

    ¡°Who are you talking to?¡± Leif hissed. Sakrattars ignored him.

    ¡°User: Sakrattars? Please specify your preferred language. I am currently speaking to you in: Draconic.¡± The voice¡¯s words were stilted and the pronunciation strangely precise. Sakrattars chewed his lip. Who was he talking to? The voice continued, ¡°if you are satisfied with this selection, please say ¡®yes¡¯. Or, please specify a different language.¡±

    ¡°Um. . . can you speak in Imperial Common? Please.¡±

    There was an audible click and a whir. When the voice spoke again, everyone could understand. ¡°You have selected: Imperial Common. If you are satisfied with this selection, please say ¡®yes¡¯. Or, please specify a different language.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Sakrattars said. For as silly as he felt talking to the odd, disembodied voice, he figured he should just go along with its demands. It didn¡¯t seem threatening and his companions, though still guarded, had visibly relaxed. Kaja, having tiptoed away in secret during the bizarre conversation, emerged from a shadowy corner, the metal sphere in her hand.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°I think this is him,¡± she said, holding up the sphere.

    ¡°Greetings, Sakrattars,¡± the orb said in the now-familiar hollow, stilted voice. ¡°I am Codex. You may also refer to me as ¡®he¡¯ or ¡®him¡¯. Welcome to the grand city of Ainchalez, it is my pleasure to be your key and guide. I was forged here by the mighty Orodmai; the advanced machining and spellcraft of my wonderful and brilliant creators allows magic to be integrated seamlessly with my mechanical workings. I use rudimentary spells in my functions, such as the voice spell I am using to communicate with you now. If you please, I can show you to our main marketplace¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hold on, hold on. She¡¯s not Sakrattars, I am,¡± Sakrattars said, taking the sphere after a brief hesitation. His head was spinning trying to process everything he just heard. The sphere, this ¡°Codex¡±, must be some sort of construct. His mind went to the ones Saara and her mother, Feriel, had built to guard their estate. Though constructs could act semi-autonomously, they still required a puppet-master of sorts and someone to maintain the memory crystals that powered them. If Codex was acting independently, as he appeared to be, then he was operating on technology far exceeding known laws. Leif and Kaja gathered to stare at the talking orb. Amale and Jo, having finished the bandage change and been administered a pain poultice respectively, joined them.

    ¡°Apologies,¡± Codex said. ¡°If you would allow me to scan your ethereal signatures, I will be able to recognize whom I am speaking with in future interactions.¡±

    The companions exchanged looks. Leif shrugged.

    ¡°Okay, permission granted,¡± Sakrattars said. He didn¡¯t know what he was expecting to happen, but was surprised when the orb just shifted and buzzed, a faint blue glow rippling through its etchings.

    ¡°Scan complete,¡± Codex said. ¡°Five individuals and two animals detected. Individual signature one: elf-hybrid, male¡±¡ªSakrattars raised an eyebrow but Codex continued rattling on¡ª¡°Individual signature two: human, male. Individual signature three: natiuhan, female, sabercat embodiment¡±¡ªJo¡¯s eyes went wide¡ª¡°Individual signature four: unknown species. Individual signature five: zmaj, female. Animal signature one¡ª¡±

    ¡°Wait, wait, wait,¡± Sakrattars interrupted. ¡°Did you say ¡®zmaj¡¯? What do you know about zmaj?¡± Next to him, Amale¡¯s ears pinned as he realized he was the ¡°unknown species¡±.

    Codex clicked. ¡°Zmaj: humble folk, brilliant with magic, beloved of dragons. Zmaj occasionally come to the grand city of Ainchalez to trade in our markets and visit our residents: my wonderful creators.¡± Codex whirred and Kaja felt a tingling on her skin as scrying magic scanned her body. ¡°This zmaj shows several physical anomalies. Updating my crystal lattice.¡± Kaja looked at Sakrattars with worry, unsure of what Codex meant by ¡°anomalies¡±. Truthfully, Sakrattars had no idea.

    ¡°Are there any other zmaj in the city now?¡± he asked, remembering his visions. He was thoroughly confused, but he felt a thrill knowing that he had read the ethereal energy correctly and zmaj had been here.

    ¡°Unknown. I do not have updated visitor information to this, the grand city of Ainchalez. It has been approximately five thousand, five hundred, and twenty-two solar cycles since I was last interfaced and updated. I apologize for the inconvenience.¡±

    Sakrattars frowned. ¡°Solar cycles. . . you mean years?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Five thousand, five hundred, and twenty-two years.¡±

    His brow wrinkled. The world itself was believed to be less than three thousand years old. The device was clearly malfunctioning. Sakrattars decided to leave that part alone for now. ¡°Alright. And who was that?¡± he asked, gesturing at the unfortunate adventurer¡¯s frosty bones.

    ¡°That is user Helaena,¡± Codex replied. ¡°According to her, she acquired me from a collector in Aurea, where I had been kept in an inactive state for an unknown amount of time. I do not believe she exchanged currency for me.¡± Sakrattars pursed his lips. So Helaena was a thief. Codex continued, ¡°she managed to awaken me and helped add the language: Imperial Common, to my crystal lattice. Then, when I requested she return me to my city, where I can be of most use, she accepted. I believe she wished to acquire more items of value from this, the grand city of Ainchalez.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think she planned to shop at the market here,¡± Leif grumbled.

    ¡°User Helaena became damaged after a fall,¡± Codex said. ¡°I advised her to enter here so our skilled and kindhearted healers could repair her. Afterwards, she would be free to acquire the items she desired. She was very weak when we entered, so I sent out an emergency request for aid to our healing staff. They are now: one hundred eighty-nine solar cycles, behind schedule.¡±

    Sakrattars stared at the skeleton. Rimed over with hoarfrost, it had been sitting there, preserved by freezing temperatures, for nearly two centuries. Only now did he notice that one of its leg bones had been badly fractured. He didn¡¯t need Amale to tell him that internal bleeding or infection probably took the thief''s life.

    ¡°I apologize for the delay in their response,¡± Codex said, his tone unchanging. ¡°Please be assured that assisting guests is still our top priority. We will endeavor to do better in the future.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to tell you, but I think your former user is dead,¡± Leif said.

    ¡°I regretfully agree, Honored Guest. I attempted to ask after her status each day for the first ten solar cycles. She did not respond after the third day. I entered a low-activity state and awaited the healers, who have yet to appear.¡±

    Sakrattars turned toward the yawning, shadowy interior of Ainchalez. The antechamber opened up into a vast, cavernous expanse somewhere beyond. ¡°What happened here?¡± he murmured.

    Codex whirred for a moment, trying to process the question. ¡°We have many yearly and seasonal festivals. You might be interested in¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, I mean, where is everyone?¡±

    Codex clicked softly. ¡°Unknown. I have not interfaced with our central curatoria in approximately five thousand, five hundred¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, quite a long time,¡± Sakrattars said irritably. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get you interfaced. How do we do that?¡±

    Leif extended a hand. ¡°Now, hang on¡ª¡±

    ¡°Honored guests, please proceed into the grand city of Ainchalez!¡± Codex said, switching back to his regular programming. ¡°I will guide you to the nearest interface, and make recommendations of our most popular stops along the way.¡±

    ¡°No way, we are not going in there,¡± Leif protested. ¡°The ulfhednar were guarding this place for a reason.¡±

    Sakrattars whispered a few words of magic and a floating ball of light winked into existence, illuminating the path ahead. ¡°Then you¡¯re welcome to leave,¡± he said dismissively.

    Kaja stepped forward to take a place by Sakrattars¡¯ side. ¡°I need to know if they were here,¡± she said. No one needed to ask who she meant by ¡®they¡¯. ¡°And even if they aren¡¯t any more, maybe Codex can tell me who they were and where they went.¡±

    ¡°But¡ª¡± Leif faltered, his tone significantly more subdued.

    Jo brushed past him, feeling better now that her wound was rebound. ¡°You going to make her go alone?¡± she quipped. ¡°Or worse: just with the elf?¡±

    Leif swore, drew his axe and shield, and followed. Close behind was Amale, Koa perched discontentedly on his shoulder. Their footsteps echoed hollowly on the stone floor. For all the world it looked like they were in a black void, where only they and the stone they walked upon existed. Everything else was lost to the darkness beyond the tiny radius of light from Sakrattars¡¯ spell. As they ventured further, Jo¡¯s expression darkened. She knew better than to try to stop Kaja now¡ªshe had already lost that argument before they even entered the mountains.

    After asking for the rest of the companions¡¯ names, Codex began his tour. ¡°We are now in the central plaza of this, the grand city of Ainchalez.¡± His repetitive and dramatic statements were starting to grate on the party¡¯s nerves, but Sakrattars held onto Codex jealously, insisting that they should just let the little orb speak. ¡°During your stay, please visit the Orodmai cultural center, which is the large building to your left.¡± They all looked left and saw only darkness. ¡°Hungry from your long journey? Be sure to visit Mama Yalitha¡¯s Inn and Grill, proudly serving the best elk stew in the world for eight-hundred years. Just follow the delicious smell!¡± Kaja sniffed but could only smell frost and stale must.

    Codex rattled off more information as they walked. According to him, there were toy shops, inns and taverns, performance spaces, clothing shops¡ªeverything one could expect to find in a major city.  He appeared to be reciting it all by rote, unaware that the things he was describing didn¡¯t exist anymore. ¡°Should we tell him?¡± Leif muttered wryly, only to be cowed back into silence by a fierce look from Sakrattars.

    After what seemed like forever, a wall at the far side of the plaza emerged into the light. There were a pair of doors forged from the same orange metal as Codex, and a much more reasonable size than the grand entrance, open inward as if beckoning them deeper into the shadows beyond.

    ¡°Do not mind the guards, they are here for your safety,¡± Codex chirped. ¡°I assure you, you are most welcome within inner Ainchalez.¡± There were no guards, of course, though there were alcoves carved into the rock face that could have once been guard posts. ¡°Please wait and our staff will open the doors for you,¡± Codex continued. Just as there were no guards, there was clearly no need to wait for staff to open the doors. The companions looked to each other for reassurance, then stepped through the gaping threshold.

    ¡°By all the gods. . .¡± Leif whispered, placing a hand on the metal doors. They had been nearly torn off their hinges, dented inwards and partially twisted by some powerful force. He frowned, reinforced in his suspicion that they shouldn¡¯t be here.

    Sakrattars¡¯ light illuminated the room: a smaller antechamber, with a lower ceiling than the plaza, and with another door on the far side. The party ominously noted that that door, too, was smashed and destroyed. Tall, orange metal statues stood in all four corners of the room, vaguely humanoid in appearance, but with simplified and incomplete features. Each one held a large weapon¡ªone had a greatsword, another, a staff, the third, a warhammer, and the last, a greataxe. Erected on stone plinths, the statues stood head and shoulders above Jo.

    Codex clicked. ¡°We have arrived at the interface. At your convenience, please place me in the circular slot on the wall to your left.¡± For once, something that he referred to still existed. A raised bar of relief ran from the floor up to the low ceiling, with a circular depression in its surface at about shoulder-height. Sakrattars placed Codex into this depression, noticing as he did so that it was a perfect fit. Codex adhered to the stone, though either magnetism or a spell, Sakrattars didn¡¯t know. As the minutes ticked by, his whirring and clicking became louder and faster, but nothing else seemed to be happening.

    Unnerved by the lull, Leif was growing more and more agitated. ¡°Should not be here, should not be here. . .¡± he repeated under his breath, looking between the inner and outer doors, unsure which was more threatening.

    Growing impatient, Sakrattars spoke up. ¡°Any luck, Codex? Are there zmaj here?¡±

    ¡°Please stand by.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve been standing by.¡±

    ¡°My apologies. The grand city of Ainchalez has been locked down.¡± Everyone started at the news, with Jo and Amale immediately assuming defensive stances. ¡°A security lockdown has gone into effect, following a general alarm and a call for the outer doors to be shut. All visitors and citizens are ordered to the inner chambers. Please proceed¡ª¡±

    Sakrattars felt a chill in his spine. ¡°Codex, what caused the lockdown?¡± he asked hurriedly.

    ¡°I do not have access to that information from here but the lockdown began a few months after my last interface, approximately five thousand, five hundred¡ª¡±

    ¡°We know how long it¡¯s been!¡± Sakrattars snapped. ¡°What else do you know?¡±

    ¡°One of my colleagues, Syntax, is currently installed in the curatoria, the central logic matrix of the city, which is in the Cryptaevium. From there, she would have access to all the city¡¯s functions and archives. I have been awaiting a response from her, but she has not answered my message spells.¡±

    ¡°Okay, that¡¯s it,¡± Leif said. ¡°Something bad happened here and I truly don¡¯t care what it was. You¡¯re leading us back out.¡± He grabbed Codex and tried to wrest him from the wall.

    ¡°Please do not remove me from the interface while the lockdown¡ª¡±

    ¡°Leif, don¡¯t¡ª!¡±

    With a metallic thunk, Leif pulled Codex free. The whole room began to vibrate and rumble, dust falling from the ceiling like drifting snow. A set of horrible, high-pitched screeches reverberated through the chamber, as if ancient, rusted machinery had come to life. Then all was quiet again.

    ¡°Please return me to the interface,¡± Codex said calmly. Leif didn¡¯t move. He was looking at the ceiling, petrified, as if expecting it to descend and crush them at any moment. ¡°Removing me violently has resulted in a local security alert,¡± Codex went on. ¡°Please return me to the interface to cancel the alert.¡± When Leif still didn¡¯t act, Codex began repeating, ¡°please return me to the interface¡± over and over.

    ¡°Leif!¡± Sakrattars, Jo, and Amale shouted in unison, Codex¡¯s voice grating on their already frayed nerves.

    Leif started. ¡°Oh, uh, right,¡± he said, heading back to the interface.

    It was then that Sakrattars felt a tug on his sleeve. ¡°The statues moved,¡± Kaja whispered. He glanced up in alarm and noticed that she was right: all four statues¡¯ heads had turned to face them, their featureless faceplates eerie and unreadable.

    Sakrattars gasped. ¡°Leif¡ª!¡±

    Leif, who had just been about to place Codex, looked back irritably. ¡°Oh, what is it now¡ª¡± His breath caught and his eyes went wide as a gleaming, orange greatsword crashed down with a shriek of metal, slicing the air where his arm had just been. He jumped back instinctively, dropping Codex as he fumbled with his gear. Codex rolled away, still repeating ¡°please return me to the interface¡±, as the statues stepped off their plinths, rusted metal whining and moaning with every movement. They raised their weapons, thousands of years of dust falling from their metallic bodies, and surrounded the party, blocking off their escape. As the statues approached, they clicked and growled¡ªa verbal warning produced by a spell so ancient and degraded that no intelligible words could come out.

    ¡°Kaja! Behind me!¡± was all Jo managed to get out before the constructs charged. Shedding plumes of rust from their joints, the statues grew more nimble and fluid until they could move as quickly as any organic fighter. Taken by surprise, Amale only just managed to duck a wide swing from the metal staff. Koa took to the air and Amale loosed an arrow at the construct¡¯s faceplace; then let out a plaintive whine as it ricocheted uselessly off the orange metal. He dodged the counterblow, rolling across the floor to get away. Koa shrieked and swooped heroically at the metal warrior, his talons raking across its face with a similar lack of effect.

    Still recovering from his shock, Leif was knocked flying by a single blow from the greatsword guardian, a deep dent pounded into his ferix-metal shield. The construct grasped the shield with a three-fingered, jointed hand and gave it a sharp, powerful yank. Leif cried out in pain as his arm held fast in the shield straps, his shoulder nearly pulled from its socket.

    Jo dodged a mighty swing from the warhammer construct, the pain of her wound escalating from a throbbing ache to a searing, burning agony. As she moved, the hammer slammed recklessly after her, leaving huge cracks and impact craters in the ancient stone. There was no room for mistakes: a single blow would end any of their lives instantly. Then, a burst of hoarfrost exploded against the construct¡¯s back, drawing its attention away from Jo and towards Kaja. Jo¡¯s heart stopped as she watched Kaja leap gracefully away from a thundering counter strike that carved a deep divot into the floor.

    Amid the swirling melee, Codex rolled between the feet of the fighters, calmly repeating his request to be placed back in the interface. Sakrattars, discouraged and dismayed by the fact that his firebolt spell only managed to make the axe construct glow white-hot, felt Codex gently bump against his boot. He stooped quickly, grasping desperately at the metal sphere, but Jo, reeling from a vicious punch by a metal fist, staggered backwards and kicked Codex out of reach. Breathing heavily and scared out of his wits, Sakrattars crawled through the chaos on all fours as weapons struck the floor around him, the blows pulling sparks and opening up deep cracks in the living rock. He frantically reached for Codex as the little orb ricocheted off the walls, kicked about by companions and guardians alike.

    Finally, Sakrattars made a desperate dive, grabbing for Codex with both hands only for the cold metal to slip from his fingers, sending the sphere rolling out of reach. At that moment he noticed the metal guardian standing above him. With a growling, wordless challenge, it swung its warhammer down. Squeaking in terror, Sakrattars tumbled to the side. The warhammer struck the ground where he had been, punching a hole clean through the rock. The guardian reeled as the damaged floor gave way and swallowed up one of its legs. It took another swing at Sakrattars as he scrambled to his feet, but it was out of range and stuck in place.

    Behind him, Sakrattars could hear the whirring, screeching advance of another guardian. It raised its axe high above its head, readying to strike him down. Sakrattars stared at the floor beneath his feet, at the small chunks of stone that were already crumbling and falling into the shadowy void. Death could either come from above or from below. . . It was time to risk it all.

    With a flash of orange light and a blast of ashy heat, Sakrattars directed a fireball spell down at the floor. He felt a surge of pride as a shockwave passed through the shattered stone and molten-red cracks fanned out from the impact point like burning rivers. An instant later the entire floor collapsed, bringing down all of the combatants with it. Even as they fell, one of the guardians took an ill-aimed slash at the party, but the large, heavy constructs soon plummeted past them and down into depths.

    Sakrattars¡¯ mind raced. He had just cast the most powerful spell he had ever attempted, but it was going to be for nothing. He had heard of spells to slow falls, to reverse gravity, or even just to shield oneself from an impact, but he knew none of them. And it wouldn¡¯t even matter if he did¡ªhe could not possibly reach his spellbook before they hit the ground.

    Suddenly a cold, white glow filled the room. A light, frosty snowfall twinkled around the panicked companions, as an ethereal aura enveloped Kaja. A moment before the ground came into view, ghostly dragon¡¯s wings extended from her back and gave a single, mighty flap. The resulting updraft momentarily suspended the party in mid-air. They watched in wonder as rubble from the ceiling fell past them, smashing onto the ground below, and then the magical moment was over. The group fell the remaining distance, landing hard but somehow alive.

    While everyone was coughing and sputtering in the dust, Jo rose to her feet, clutching her side with one hand, her other raised and ready. But there was no need, as no guardians attacked. Sakrattars¡¯ light orb lazily floated down to them from the room above, revealing the huge shards of stone surrounding the battered companions. Some stones had badly damaged metal limbs sticking out from under them. The axe guardian was skewered by a jagged chunk, its fire-softened body crushed and torn from the impact. Some distance away, a severed metal arm still clutched its greatsword. Koa swept down after the light spell and landed near Amale with a rustle of feathers. He took two hops toward his companion, uttering a concerned squeak. Amale scratched the bird¡¯s neck in reassurance.

    Jo turned to Kaja, who sat amid the rubble a bit rattled but unhurt. ¡°Kaja. . . how did you do that?¡± she asked.

    Kaja shook her head and looked up toward the ceiling. ¡°I don¡¯t know. . .¡±

    Leif was not interested in the ¡®hows¡¯. ¡°You damned elf,¡± he growled, ¡°you nearly got us killed!¡±

    ¡°Me?¡± Sakrattars choked back his surprise, and maybe a little dust. ¡°You yanked Codex out of the wall and woke up those constructs! At least I did something about it!¡±

    ¡°Dropping us into a void is not ¡®doing something¡¯!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re alive to whine about it, thanks to me!¡±

    ¡°Alive and trapped! And don¡¯t you mean thanks to Kaja? Without her, you would have killed us!¡± Leif craned his neck to look up at the hole in the ceiling, nearly a hundred feet above their heads. ¡°How are we supposed to get out now?¡±

    ¡°Will you two shut your mouths?¡± Jo snapped. ¡°I can hear Codex.¡±

    From somewhere beneath the rubble pile, came a muffled voice: ¡°the grand city of Ai-ai-Ainchalez boasts a marvelous gate system.¡± Kaja started to dig after it, rolling away the big rocks and pushing aside the dust and gravel. ¡°Using these, you may travel with speed and per-per-perfect safety to our most popular locations, including scenic overlooks out-outside!¡± As Kaja searched, the voice became clearer. At last, she lifted the sphere from a pile of crushed rock and dusted him off. ¡°Greetings again, use-use-user Kaja,¡± Codex stammered. Kaja noticed a large dent in his gleaming metal shell. Was that why he was having trouble talking now?

    She hopped down to rejoin her companions, but the rubble pile burst open behind her. Dropping Codex and falling back with a shriek, she cast a panicked frost spell into the face of the revealed guardian, but it made no difference. Using its one functional arm, it pulled what was left of its body from the rubble, dragging behind it a tangled mass of gears and broken pipes dribbling alchemical fluids. Kaja retreated, kicking the broken construct in the face, but it kept pulling itself towards her. Then her back hit stone¡ªshe could go no further. The construct extended a grasping, three-fingered hand, reaching for her throat¡ª

    ¡ªwhen Jo stomped on its back, pinning it to the ground. She grabbed its faceless head with both hands and, with a savage twist, broke the badly damaged hinges holding the head to its body. It tore free with a spray of fluids and a flash of magical discharge, and the guardian ceased all movement. Jo threw the head away into the darkness and offered a hand to Kaja. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, Kaja accepted it.

    With the danger passed, Sakrattars picked up Codex and examined the dent in his shell. ¡°Codex. . . are you all right?¡±

    ¡°Yes, user Sakrattars. I am full-full-fully functional.¡±

    ¡°. . .alright,¡± Sakrattars said, unconvinced. ¡°So what was that about gates?¡±

    ¡°My primary function is as a guide and interpreter. Vis-visitors are loaned gatekeepers like myself to translate for them, help them find their way around, and as a k-key to operate the gate system in this, the grand city of¡ª¡±

    ¡°Are these magical gates? Portals?¡±

    ¡°Yes-yes-yes. Though with the city in lockdown, all gate use has been suspended.¡±

    Leif moaned. ¡°So we¡¯re still trapped. Perfect.¡±

    ¡°I may be able to lift the lock-lockdown, but only from the Cryptaevium,¡± Codex continued. ¡°It is the central control hub for the city, and houses the main curatoria. That is where my coll-coll-colleague is currently installed.¡±

    ¡°How far?¡± Amale asked quietly. He waved over his companions, gesturing to an apparent way out of the collapsed chamber. Koa, perched on his shoulder, had keen eyes fixed on the darkness ahead.

    ¡°It is a short walk to the nearest gate! We will arrive¡ª¡± Codex whirred for a moment, then clicked. ¡°Apologies. I for-for-forgot the gates are inaccessible. It is a long journey to the Cryptaevium. I apologize for the in-in-inconvenience.¡±

    ¡°I said we shouldn¡¯t have come here,¡± Leif said to no one in particular. ¡°Sometimes, it¡¯s really tough being right, eh?¡± He sighed, shouldering his shield, and followed Amale out.

    Sakrattars took a place at the rear of the group. He cradled Codex gingerly in his hands. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re okay? We need you.¡±

    Codex turned down the volume of his voice, perhaps to match Sakrattars¡¯ own. ¡°Your concern is appreciated, user Sakrattars. Admittedly, I have received dam-dam-damage that is affecting my fun-functions. I have sent out a repair re-re-request and am awaiting reply.¡± Their steps echoed on the cold, stone floor, consumed by the suffocating silence.

    Sakrattars swallowed. ¡°Well. . . let me know if you get one,¡± he said.

    Codex raised his volume again. ¡°User Amale. At the door, you will take a left-left-right-left-right.¡± Codex clicked softly. ¡°My apologies. Take a lef-left.¡±

    Amale lowered his ears, and turned left.

 Session 20 - Silence and Shadow

    ¡°Well, fancy elf,¡± Leif said dryly, ¡°got any more bright ideas?¡±

    The party¡¯s gaze followed Sakrattars¡¯ magical lights as they flitted up the staircase they should be taking, illuminating boulders the size of farmhouses piled high upon the ruined masonry. Sakrattars held Codex to the rubble, using the faint, flickering spotlight coming from the little construct¡¯s damaged shell to examine the situation. Ice cold water seeped between the rocks, gathering into shallow pools eroded into the stone over many centuries. Even if it were possible to remove the boulders, the stairs beneath were completely destroyed.

    ¡°We will need to go the alternate route Codex suggested,¡± Sakrattars announced. ¡°Codex, if you could, please.¡±

    Codex whirred into action. ¡°No pro-pro-problem, user Sakrattars. If you turn right at the hallway ahead. . .¡±

    The rest of the party groaned and sighed, commiserating as they reluctantly followed Sakrattars and Codex back into the dark, labyrinthine ruins. They had spent an anxious, mostly sleepless ¡°night¡± amid the absolute blackness of inner Ainchalez, and were left massaging sore shoulders and stiff joints after bedding down on the cold stones. The lack of light was another problem. They had no sense of time, relying on their own body¡¯s instincts to approximate when they should eat and rest. Even then, the longer they stayed in Ainchalez, the more time¡¯s passage blurred together.

    Kaja, especially, was on edge. At one point she tugged on Sakrattars¡¯ sleeve and asked him, in Draconic, if he ¡°could hear the voices too¡±. He did not, and when he tried to get more information from her, she clammed up and said nothing more about it. Sakrattars declined to mention Kaja¡¯s question to the others¡ªthey were already upset as it was and he didn¡¯t want to trigger another rant about the ¡°ulfhednar¡¯s warning¡± from Leif.

    ¡°I am curious to discover why Syntax was installed in the Cryp-Cryptaevium,¡± Codex stuttered, perhaps trying to relieve his guests with conversation. ¡°Though she is a talented gatekeeper, our primary function is not as security dev-dev-devices.¡±

    Desperate to break the cloying, oppressive silence of the dead city, Sakrattars eagerly seized the opportunity. ¡°Tell us about her.¡±

    ¡°She and I are among the hundreds of gatekeepers available in Ainchalez, though Syntax is special. She has a curiosity about the outside world not com-com-common among my colleagues. She often spends as much time listening to the guest¡¯s stories as guiding them through Ainchalez.¡±

    Sakrattars noticed that as Codex talked, Kaja¡¯s expression fell, until her face was hidden completely by her hood. But, for as much as he wanted to know the reason behind her sudden change, she had not been in a forthcoming mood and showed no sign of being receptive to more questions. Instead, he replied to Codex. ¡°Syntax sounds nice,¡± he said absently.

    ¡°She is!¡± Codex chimed. ¡°She will find all of you fascinating, and will have endless questions. Syntax always wanted to see the outside, perhaps to visit the lands her guests came from.¡±

    ¡°She couldn¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Oh no, gatekeepers cannot leave Ainchalez. They must remain so they can be loaned to new guests. That is the pur-pur-purpose of our creation.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s sad,¡± Kaja said softly. Everyone looked in her direction, surprised. ¡°That makes me sad,¡± she repeated. ¡°Maybe we can take her with us.¡±

    ¡°That is kind, user Kaja,¡± Codex said. ¡°But we are a part of Ainchalez. We best fulfill our role here, in the grand city.¡±

    Jo¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line. With the backdrop of devastation and ruin, Sakrattars didn¡¯t need to hear words to know what she was thinking. ¡°Well you left, didn¡¯t you?¡± she asked gruffly, sidestepping the growing owlbear in the room.

    ¡°According to user Helaena, I was obtained many solar cycles ago by a treasure hunting party. They sold me to the collector, and later I was obtained by Helaena. So yes, user Jo, I did leave Ainchalez, though not intentionally. My last memory be-be-before awakening in Helaena¡¯s hands was being placed back on my charging interface by my wonderful creators.¡±

    ¡°So you didn¡¯t see what happened here?¡±

    Codex was quiet for a moment, with just the soft clicks and purr of moving gears. ¡°No, this is all as new to me as it is to you. I ap-ap-apologize for the inconvenience.¡±

    That statement hung in the air for several minutes, the silence uninterrupted until Codex directed them down a turn in the path. Gone were the large chambers with soaring ceilings¡ªthe party was deep in the inner city now, winding their way through a maze of smaller corridors that they couldn¡¯t hope to navigate without Codex¡¯s help. Sakrattars held out Codex like a torch, eyes scanning the path ahead in a mixture of wonder and apprehension.  On either side of the walkway were frozen icefalls cascading down the ancient stone from cracks in the walls that had let in trickles of groundwater. The ice glinted in the glow created by the party¡¯s passing¡ªperhaps the first light it had seen in millenia.

    But despite the stoic beauty, the unnerving desolation frayed at Sakrattars¡¯ nerves. There were no sounds that didn¡¯t come from him or his companions, and they didn¡¯t find any evidence that anyone else had ventured this deep since the days of Ainchalez¡¯s operation. The only other signs of life were clusters of mushrooms springing up from the damp, their faint, green glow somehow only highlighting the eerieness of their surroundings. To Sakrattars, it felt like they were walking through a massive tomb.

    The shadows and light shifted and pulled, gradually revealing a large statue situated at a T-intersection at the end of the corridor. As they approached and Sakrattars¡¯ light crept up the carved stone, a stylized, humanoid figure came into focus¡ªtall, strong, broad-shouldered, bearing a smithy¡¯s hammer in one hand and a metal ingot in the other. Though carved in the same distinctive style as the rest of Ainchalez¡¯s art¡ªall hard angles and geometric shapes¡ªsome of its features had a vague familiarity that Sakrattars couldn¡¯t quite put a finger on.

    ¡°That is Tura, the legendary founder of Ainchalez,¡± Codex explained. His pride came through even with his hollow voice. ¡°Since time immemorial, the orodmai lived in quarreling tribes, scattered through the mountain valleys. Tura brought them all together here, in this valley, founding the most perfect kingdom of my wonderful creators. The capital of that king-king-kingdom is this, the grand city of Ainchalez.¡±

    As Codex babbled on¡ªsomething about historical treaties and agreements¡ªLeif¡¯s mind and gaze began to wander. He held Oxhiminn aloft, the magical weapon¡¯s ghostly glow crawling over the carved walls. Back home in Stjornugaard, reliefs depicted myths and legends; they showed brave thanes fighting trolls and dragons and huge Volgarian armies. But, here in Ainchalez, they only showed the same, repeating geometric patterns. Leif couldn¡¯t help but think that this ¡°Tura¡± fellow must have been a very boring guy.

    Muttering with wearied disappointment, Leif turned away from one wall and towards another¡ª

    ¡ªonly to come face-to-faceplate with a metal guardian.

    He yelped in alarm, his heart practically leaping from his chest as he made a wild slash with his axe. Missing completely, the momentum threw him to the ground. He scrambled and fumbled, raising his shield in a hopeless gesture against the brutal attack he expected¡ªbut one never came. He peeked over his shield and his cheeks went beet red. The guardian was completely wrecked, its broken body embedded in the wall as if thrown by a mighty force. It had been there so long that small stalactites had begun to envelop it. It wasn¡¯t going to be on the attack any time soon.

    ¡°Sad. This is Beryl Eighty-Nine,¡± Codex said, scanning the guardian¡¯s body. ¡°They always were a little glitchy.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think this was a glitch, Codex,¡± Sakrattars replied uneasily.

    Amale whined, getting their attention. He gestured ahead, at the expanse of gleaming bronze shards carpeting the darkened hallway. These guardians hadn¡¯t just been shattered¡ªthey had been torn apart. Beyond the bodies, the tunnel had completely collapsed.

    Codex whirred softly, his scrying spells playing over the broken constructs, then the huge boulders blocking the way forward. ¡°I apologize, I have once again led us to a dead end,¡± he said. ¡°My maps are badly out of date, and it seems there was a terrible construction accident.¡± The companions exchanged knowing glances. This was no construction accident¡ªit was a battlefield. ¡°If I may make a re-re-request,¡± Codex continued, none the wiser. ¡°We should visit the home of my forgemaster. He can repair my damage, and give me updated maps. Without them, I am not sure I can lead you to the Cryptaevium.¡±

    Sakrattars swallowed. He could only hope that, if Ainchalez was as old as Codex claimed it to be, that the enemy the guardians had faced was long gone. ¡°How far?¡± he asked nervously.

    ¡°Not far,¡± Codex answered.

    *

    *

    The companions followed Codex¡¯s instruction as he led them to what appeared to be a residential district, then down a small side street within. The apartment blocks were a comfortingly familiar sight: like the ones in Aurea, there were doors spaced along the walls both at street level and several floors above that. But where the buildings in Aurea were seldom more than three storeys tall, the apartments before the companions stretched upwards, storey after storey, until they were lost in the darkness above. They had to have been taller than even the soaring apartments of Forgeheart. Sakrattars thought of all the lives of all the people who had to have once lived there.

    ¡°Please place me in the interface,¡± Codex chimed.

    Sakrattars hesitated for a moment, looking around to make sure there were no guardians on plinths nearby. Seeing nothing, he acquiesced, placing Codex in the divet by the door.

    Codex hummed. ¡°Please stand by,¡± he said as he worked. ¡°My forgemaster has locked the door from the inside, using his personal cipher. Luckily, he shared it with me.¡± There was a metallic clank and a soft grinding of gears, but the door didn¡¯t move. ¡°Apologies, it seems the door requires maintenance. Perhaps one of you could¡ª¡±

    With a squeal of metal, Jo accidentally pulled the door off its rusted hinges. ¡°Sorry,¡± she said, gently leaning the door against the wall.

    Codex did not respond. Sakrattars picked him up and cautiously stepped through the threshold, stale air pouring out of the darkness ahead as they entered. Though the ceiling was low, the room still had the familiar layout of a family home¡ªa kitchen here, a dining area there. There was a soft clatter as Kaja accidentally kicked something on the floor. She stooped to pick it up, lifting a toy horse made of metal. The joints were rusted together, the horse forever frozen in the position it had been lying in. Sakrattars felt the warm ripples of ethereal energy as Codex scanned the apartment.

    ¡°Pardon the interruption,¡± Codex called out, raising his volume slightly. ¡°It is Codex, Forgemaster Jada. I am coming in, and I¡¯ve brought guests.¡±

    Having gone ahead, as was his habit, Amale emerged from a side room. His ears were lowered, and one look told them everything they needed to know.

    ¡°Let¡¯s leave, Codex,¡± Sakrattars said. ¡°I don¡¯t think your Forgemaster will be able to help you.¡±

    ¡°You are polite, use-user Sakrattars, but my Forgemaster said I should always come to him for repairs. He will be hap-happy to see me, let¡¯s proceed.¡±

    Not knowing what else to do, Sakrattars stepped around the corner into the bedroom, already knowing what he¡¯d see. Even so, it didn¡¯t make it easier to bear. Laid out upon the largest bed were two bodies. Left in the cold, dry air, they had mummified over the centuries, their clothing degrading until it clung close to their leathery skin. Even in this state, he could see the two were holding each other tightly. On the other side of the room, a much smaller mummy lay in a child¡¯s bed, the remains of a stuffed dragon clutched against its chest.

    Kaja stared, wide-eyed, as if she couldn¡¯t look away. Even when Jo placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, she barely moved. Her pale face showed little emotion, but her hands betrayed her as they quietly twisted and worked the hem of her cloak. Jo wanted nothing more than to take Kaja away, to shield her from the gruesome sight, but she recognized that this was an important step in the path Kaja had chosen. If these were the remains of zmaj, Kaja had to bear witness. She would certainly only see worse going forward.

    Codex was silent. Once his scrying spells drifted over the bodies, his whirring and clicking ceased for the first time since they¡¯d found him.

    Sakrattars placed a delicate hand over Codex¡¯s engraved metal shell. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Codex.¡±

    But Codex wasn¡¯t still for long. ¡°User Amale?¡±

    Amale¡¯s ears perked up.

    ¡°You mentioned you are a healer? Would you please examine Jada and his family?¡±

    Amale nodded gravely, glancing at Sakrattars as he passed by. He made a cursory examination of the bodies, his paws touching them gently and respectfully. He never moved them¡ªthey had died embracing one another, and he left them so¡ªbut he did brush the brittle hair away from their faces. And when he did so, his ears shot to attention and he immediately beckoned Sakrattars over. Sakrattars held his breath, his stomach churning. He had worked as a mortician¡¯s assistant back in Barsicum for exactly one hour before a violent bout of sickness saw him relieved of his job. But when he saw what Amale was showing him, his surprise superseded his nausea.

    ¡°Are they zmaj?¡± Leif asked.

    ¡°No,¡± Sakrattars gasped, moving aside so everyone could see the sharply pointed ears. ¡°They¡¯re elves.¡±

    Leif raised his brow in shock. ¡°What were elves doing here?¡± Like the rest, he only knew of elves living in the beautiful coastal cities of Aurelia, Arvis, and Taracosia.

    ¡°They are my wonderful creators,¡± Codex said softly. ¡°Forgemaster Jada said I should come-come to him, rather than the smiths. He said he would always help me. . .¡±

    Sakrattars staggered, hot blood surging below his cold, clammy skin. The so-called orodmai were elves? Decades upon decades of learning flashed through his mind, as if he were flipping through a giant compendium on elven history. Mythic origins in the land of Nyssa, exploration and settlement on the virgin continent of Calthia, the establishment of the first schools of magic, the Great Split¡ªwhen a faction of elves accepted Aegis as their patron goddess over the nature goddess Kynara, later becoming known as ¡°Imperial elves¡± after the subsequent founding of the Aurean Empire. Nowhere in that history was there mention of the ¡°orodmai¡± and Ainchalez. Elves had long lives and longer memories. How could it be possible to just forget a civilization seemingly as grand as Ainchalez?

    Amale finished his examination, his deep voice interrupting Sakrattars¡¯ thoughts. ¡°No signs of injuries,¡± he reported somberly. ¡°Possibly suffocated, or starved. I¡¯m sorry, Codex.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, user Am-Amale.¡±

    Amale felt Jo¡¯s large hand on his shoulder as she gently guided her companions out of the bedroom. Before she followed them out, Jo closed her eyes, and whispered a prayer to Melcuni. Then the light from Sakrattars¡¯ magic receded completely, leaving the bodies to rest in darkness once again.

    The terrible fate of Ainchalez and its people haunted the companions as they left the apartment behind, even silencing Leif¡¯s vindication. Whatever happened to this city, that family had chosen to die behind locked doors rather than face it. Leif looked at the rows upon rows of doors laid out before them, and at the ones stretching far above, and wondered how many others now led to tombs.

    Codex remained silent. Despite the occasional whirr or click of contemplation, he gave no indication he was aware of what was going on nor did he provide any direction for the lost companions. There was only one last choice: they had to somehow make it to the Cryptaevium. Even if Syntax was no longer operational, and it seemed more and more likely that that would be the case, they hoped that Codex could still activate the portals for them.

    Taking the lead, Amale found his way through the silent hallways and plunging staircases as best he could, reasoning that if the Cryptaevium was at the heart of the city, it might also be at the deepest part. It was difficult going, between the piles of ruins and thick, inky darkness, and whenever Sakrattars urged Codex to confirm if they were going the right way, the construct merely replied that he was dealing with a ¡°flaw¡± in his code that was interrupting his processes.

    ¡°So zmaj were never here after all,¡± Leif said, the tension and monotony gnawing at him. ¡°Only some kind of underground elves. That¡¯s typical.¡±

    Sakrattars flashed Leif a look. ¡°Two things can be true at once, you know,¡± he replied. ¡°Zmaj were here, I can feel it.¡±

    Leif said nothing, but kneaded his temples in frustration. Kaja still clutched at her cloak. She felt a presence too, but she was more sure than ever that it was not zmaj she was sensing. It wasn¡¯t the pleasant, nostalgic familiarity of home; it was menacing and heavy, almost crushing. It reminded her of being pinned while playing Shield Wall in Forgeheart¡ªpanicked, trapped, claustrophobic¡ªand yet urging her downward, as if pulling her deeper into the mountain. With every step, the worse it got, and the stronger that pull felt.

    As the party passed a narrow hallway, Sakrattars paused, staring down the shifting shadows of the corridor. Without a word, he waved a hand and his light spell drifted silently down the hall ahead of him.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Jo exclaimed, startled from the plunge into sudden darkness. ¡°Where are you going?¡±

    Sakrattars didn¡¯t answer, forcing his companions to hurry after him or lose the light. Soon, the hallway opened up into a constricted chamber. Sakrattars halted, his light crawling over the shadows of rubble and debris scattered across the floor, reflecting glints of metal back at him. With a chill, he realized the piles weren¡¯t rock and ruin¡ªthey were bodies.

    As the others caught up to him, they each stopped in turn, mortified by the sight. Leif lifted Oxhiminn, the blue glow of the weapon¡¯s head shedding more light on the unsettling scene. In the tight tunnels lay the armored, contorted bodies of two dozen soldiers. Some wore armor made from the gleaming orange metal the party had come to associate with Ainchalez, while others wore tempered steel plates wrapped in tattered, black cloth.

    ¡°They were attacked,¡± Sakrattars said, his hand hovering above the steel-clad bodies of the aggressors. The residual energies were so strong here, they could practically be plucked from the air. A clash of swords, a burst of magic, the cries of agony and death¡ªhe could feel it, hear it, see it, but only in brief echoes and shifting visions. Any time he blinked, the images went away. ¡°They had help. Allies.¡± He extended a hand outward, directing his light spell over a tightly-packed cluster of bodies. He knelt down next to them.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    These were not elves¡ªtheir ears were round, not pointed¡ªyet they didn¡¯t quite seem human either. Their limbs were unusually long and slender, their bodies lithe and androgynous. Even though millenia separated their existence, Sakrattars could still sense a lingering cloud of ethereal energy around the bodies. The sinking feeling hit bottom. He had to be sure. ¡°Codex, do you know who these people were?¡±

    Codex whirred. ¡°Zmaj mercenaries from the lowlands.¡± His metallic voice took on what seemed to be an odd, wistful tone. ¡°I had the p-p-pleasure of guiding them to a fine tavern, once.¡±

    ¡°They can¡¯t be,¡± Jo butted in. ¡°They don¡¯t look anything like zmaj. Where are their horns, their tails?¡±

    Codex clicked a few times, as if thinking. ¡°I apologize, but I do not understand the question. Their physiologies match my rec-records.¡±

    ¡°What about Kaja, then?¡± Sakrattars asked.

    ¡°My scans indicate with one hundred per¨Cper-percent certainty that user Kaja is a zmaj, albeit with several physical anomalies. I cannot yet make sense of the discrepancy. Once I am able to update my crystal lattice¡ª¡±

    Sakrattars groaned in frustration as Codex went on to describe their mission for the dozenth time. Though it was true that she was their only point of reference for what a zmaj was, there was no way that Kaja was a unique oddity among her species. Some, yet unknown, factor must account for the physical differences they were seeing and, based on Kaja¡¯s own bewildered reaction to the revelation, it was almost certainly going to remain a mystery for now. Sakrattars sighed and pat Bartholomew¡¯s cool head absently. This place was ripping apart everything else he thought he knew, it might as well add his limited knowledge of zmaj to the pile.

    As the others talked amongst themselves, Amale quietly examined another body in the corner, one dressed in tattered black and steel. He brushed the dust and cobwebs away from its face, revealing a metal mask. He lifted the mask from the body, his heart beating fast. Though the style was different, it bore an eerie resemblance to the masks Fallen wore. He felt a gentle hand on his arm and looked down at Kaja, who was staring at the mask in his paws, then at the body it came from.

    The body was zmaj.

    Kaja trembled. Her people were peaceful, they loved fishing and their children and the tranquil sounds of nature. And yet, here in this dark, horrible place, was zmaj fighting zmaj.

    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t think these zmaj were Kaja¡¯s people,¡± Leif said with finality. He spun around on his heel. ¡°So let¡¯s¡ª¡± He let out a strangled gasp and raised his shield slowly. ¡°Don¡¯t. . . move. . .¡± he whispered.

    The others immediately disregarded his warning and turned to have a look. Five pale figures crouched at the edge of the light. They were kobolds, but their scales were the color of pearl and their bodies wrapped in crude leather with an odd, green tinge to it. The peculiarities didn¡¯t end there. They had unusually large tympanic membranes on the sides of their heads, and a smooth, translucent layer of skin where eyes should have been. The creatures were clustered in a corner, their arms full of metals and other salvage that they had been picking from the ancient battlefield.

    Each side was frozen in place, waiting for the other to make a move. Finally, one of the kobolds stepped forward and placed a crude spear carved from green fiber down on the ground, before backing away.

    ¡°We don¡¯t want to fight,¡± it said in unmistakable Draconic. ¡°Please, may we leave?¡±

    Sakrattars answered, in Draconic also. ¡°We don¡¯t want to fight, either.¡±

    Hearing the familiar words, the kobolds grew visibly excited. They rushed forward, uttering odd whooping chirps that echoed around the room and made the party¡¯s skin tingle. Leif, about ready to charge into battle, was stopped by a quick word from Sakrattars. The kobold¡¯s crashed into the party, scaly hands touching everything they had¡ªtheir clothing, their gear, even their faces if they could reach them, examining them with fascination. They took deep, exploratory sniffs, as bristly appendages on their faces resembling the whiskers of a catfish, brushed methodically over every surface. Kaja squirmed away from the ticklish sensation as one gave her face a thorough sniffing.

    ¡°This one doesn¡¯t feel like a dragon, but she sure smells like a dragon!¡± they quipped while their whiskers flicked across her scaleless cheeks. This comment, much to Kaja¡¯s chagrin, turned all of their attention onto her. They picked at her cloak and petted her hair. They even managed to find her tail and excitedly compared its length and features to their own tails. Kaja tolerated this for only a few moments before whipping her tail out of their grasp, making the kobolds chitter and giggle.

    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough,¡± Jo said irritably. Yet despite her tone, the kobolds¡¯ spirits weren¡¯t the least bit dampened.

    ¡°Come, come!¡± One chirped and clapped, apparently gesturing for them to follow. ¡°Our families will want to meet you! Please come!¡±

    ¡°Uh, what do they want?¡± Leif asked worriedly, trying his best to withdraw from the kobolds¡¯ touch without invoking offense.

    ¡°Just hold on, they might be able to help us,¡± Sakrattars replied quickly in Imperial Common. He cleared his throat, then addressed the kobolds again in Draconic, desperately wishing that he was as naturally diplomatic as his father and brothers were. ¡°Um, thank you for the offer, but we are trying to get out of here.¡±

    The kobolds tilted their heads in confusion, chirping curiously. ¡°Out? Out?¡±

    ¡°Yes, out. To the surface.¡±

    One of them grabbed Sakrattars¡¯ hand and helpfully pointed it at the ceiling. ¡°The surface is up there!¡± The other kobolds nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

    ¡°Yes. We know. Uh, thank you,¡± Sakrattars said, gingerly withdrawing his hand and hiding his frustration. ¡°We can¡¯t get out that way. We¡¯re a bit lost down here. Our guide is damaged.¡± He held Codex out to show them.

    ¡°Greetings, I am Co-Co-Codex¡± he introduced in Draconic. The kobolds chirped and recoiled in alarm, then leaned closer, sniffing the metal sphere carefully.

    ¡°Smells like the Hollow Ones,¡± one of the kobolds observed gravely. ¡°Not safe. Do not wake them.¡±

    ¡°Hollow Ones?¡± Sakrattars repeated. ¡°You mean the constructs?¡±

    ¡°While I am a construct, I have no com-combat capabilities,¡± Codex offered helpfully. ¡°There is no need to fear.¡±

    The kobolds didn¡¯t appear to be completely convinced, but Sakrattars thought it safe enough to continue. ¡°We¡¯re trying to get to a place called the Cryptaevium. From there we can activate the city¡¯s portals and escape,¡± he explained. ¡°Do you know it?¡±

    The kobolds turned their heads side-to-side, listening to each other just in case one of them had an insight. None did.

    Sakrattars went on. ¡°It¡¯s at the center of the city, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes. It is a large room with a very tall, metal door,¡± Codex confirmed. ¡°There are statues of orodmai soldiers on either side of the long promenade that leads to it.¡±

    The kobolds suddenly startled and cowered further into the darkness. Though they couldn¡¯t understand the conversation, Amale, Leif, and Jo reacted to the change in mood, assuming defensive stances and fingering their weapons.

    ¡°We. . . we don¡¯t go there,¡± one kobold said fearfully.

    Sakrattars, struggling to understand what went wrong, blinked incredulously. ¡°What? Why not?¡±

    The kobolds turned their heads side-to-side once more, many of them muttering, ¡°the Voice, the Voice. . .¡±

    Sakrattars¡¯ heart skipped a beat as Kaja¡¯s unsettling question earlier echoed through his mind: can you hear the voices too?

    ¡°It¡¯s a bad place,¡± the kobold continued. ¡°A very bad place. The Voice is very strong there.¡±

    ¡°Our friends, when they go into the Bad Places, they come back changed,¡± another said. ¡°We don¡¯t go there. We have other tunnels, good tunnels, better tunnels.¡±

    ¡°Yes, much better tunnels!¡± the first chirped. ¡°They lead into the undercaves¡ªplaces with beautiful songs and soothing smells. Our homelands!¡± The rest purred and clacked their jaws emphatically. ¡°Many more tribes there. You would like it there. And tunnels to the surface from the undercaves too! Um, I think. . .¡±

    Another thrummed confidently. ¡°There are. Definitely. They were still there when my great-grandsire checked, according to my grandsire. Four or five weeks of walking, and you will see the surface again. No problem!¡±

    As the kobolds chattered away, Sakrattars translated the conversation for the benefit of his companions. When he finished, Leif groaned. ¡°What do you mean weeks?!¡± he exclaimed.

    ¡°And that¡¯s even if the tunnels are still around,¡± Sakrattars said grimly.

    The kobolds, though, were the opposite of disheartened. ¡°Come, come! We will have a big dinner, give you strength for your long journey.¡± One opened a rough leather sack, showing a collection of the pale, green mushrooms they had been picking. ¡°And our families can meet you! Come!¡±

    ¡°What do they want now?¡± Leif asked, his frustration mounting.

    Sakrattars opened his mouth but Codex interrupted him. ¡°Please, user Sakrattars. Allow me to act as a translator going fo-fo-forward. It is one of my purposes, after all.¡±

    ¡°Oh, alright. Thank you.¡± Sakrattars looked down at Codex, clicking softly in his hands. The little construct mechanically dictated the kobolds¡¯ nonsensical exclamations in Imperial Common, and Leif and Jo¡¯s grumbled skepticism into Draconic. He was worried that his grumpy companions might offend the kobolds, but they didn¡¯t seem to notice or care. ¡°And you¡¯re sure you don¡¯t know the way to the Cryptaevium?¡± he asked Codex.

    ¡°The grand city of Ainchalez has been badly dam-damaged. Without updated maps, I fear I will continue leading us to dead ends. I apologize for the inconvenience, user Sakrattars.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Codex,¡± Sakrattars said, slipping the sphere into Kaja¡¯s hands. ¡°Kaja, please follow our new friends. We¡¯ll catch up in a moment.¡± As Kaja reluctantly did as she was told, Amale, Jo, and Leif looked at Sakrattars in puzzlement.

    ¡°You can¡¯t seriously be thinking that going with them is a good idea?¡± Leif whispered harshly. ¡°We¡¯ll be dead in that tunnel long before we see daylight.¡±

    ¡°I know!¡± Sakrattars hissed. ¡°But did you see how they reacted? They know where the Cryptaevium is.¡± He paused, his gaze trailing to poor Kaja doing her best to entertain the vivacious kobolds alone. Then his eyes snapped back to his companions. ¡°We just need to get them to tell us.¡±

    *

    *

    The party followed the kobolds down dusty hallways, across partially collapsed rooms, and through roughly-hewn tunnels that the reptiles had clearly carved themselves as handy shortcuts. Each time they were forced to squeeze through a kobold-made tunnel, which was more often than the bruised and sore companions cared for, Sakrattars felt Codex¡¯s scrying spells activate as he updated his internal map of Ainchalez.

    ¡°Do they have to make so much noise?¡± Leif grumbled, gesturing to their energetic guides. The kobolds whooped and chirped as they navigated, stopping only to chatter amongst themselves. Leif rubbed the side of his temple. ¡°The echoes are making my head hurt.¡±

    ¡°I think the echoes are the point,¡± Sakrattars said. He had heard of bats and beasts of the ocean using sound as a means to ¡°see¡± what otherwise could not be seen. It appeared that these kobolds, living for generations upon generations in the pitch black of Ainchalez, had somehow made the same adaptation.

    After squeezing through an especially tight tunnel, they emerged into a vast, natural cavern. Water poured from a great rent in the ceiling, splashing into the black subterranean lake that occupied one side of the chamber. Huge stalagmites rose from the cave floor, some of them so large they had joined with stalactites extending down from the ceiling, making huge tree-trunk-like structures that peppered the cavern like a stone forest. Carved into these natural pillars, and into the cave walls opposite the lake, were the residential caves, platforms, and other structures that made up the kobolds¡¯ village. Everywhere, pale-scaled kobolds went about their daily tasks¡ªsome milling about a central market plaza, while others crouched at the edge of the lake, poised with fishing spears. Several crawled around an area of smooth rocks, wetting fresh lichen beds with water from the lake and harvesting ripe lichen into small, stone bowls. In the distance was a plantation of the glowing green mushrooms, though these had been cultivated to be as tall as a human.

    Upon entering the village their guides uttered a series of whooping chirps, and were answered by several dozen voices in kind. The party watched as a swarm of pale, reptilian bodies scurried out of tunnels and skittered down the walls like ghostly geckoes. Quickly they were surrounded by a growing crowd. Once again, Kaja found herself the unwilling center of attention. She lifted her hood and hunched away from the sniffs and whiskers, lashing her tail discontentedly. Seeing this, Jo stomped heavily on the stone and the threatening sound momentarily cooled the kobolds¡¯ curiosity.

    ¡°These are our guests! We found them, yes we did!¡± the leader of the guides proclaimed proudly. ¡°They are from the surface world!¡± Noises of fascination and disbelief rippled through the crowd. The leader¡¯s nose twitched as they caught a scent. ¡°Chief Kagaa! Chief!¡± They called out to a much older kobold who had pushed to the front of the crowd. ¡°I told them we would give them food and guide them to the undercaves! May we? May we, please?¡±

    The crowd fell silent as they awaited Kagaa¡¯s answer, the only sound being Codex softly translating their words into Imperial Common. ¡°Is that what you wish, surface dwellers?¡± he asked at last.

    Once again in the unenviable position of party spokesperson, Sakrattars cleared his throat. ¡°Yes, Chief Kagaa,¡± he said, then amended, ¡°well, we want to get to the surface as quickly as possible, however we can. We were looking for the deepest chamber of the city¡ª¡± He was stopped by a collective gasp from the crowd.

    Kagaa clicked knowingly. ¡°The undercaves are safer,¡± he said simply. ¡°I have heard we have tunnels to the surface somewhere down there. Later, I will send some of my people to lead you there. For now, you are our guests, and you will be fed and cared for. We don¡¯t get many visitors after all. Perhaps, in exchange, you could tell us stories about the surface?¡±

    ¡°Nothing about the surface should interest you, Chief Kagaa,¡± a deep voice rasped from somewhere in the crowd.

    Squeaking in alarm, the crowd parted, revealing a group of kobolds, unusual even among their unusual kin. Their pearly scales were covered in a haphazard patchwork of purple, bioluminescent paint and they walked with a stiff, shaky gait. The speaker, and their apparent leader, was swathed in roughspun cloth dyed with powder shale, giving her dark robes a crystalline glimmer as she moved into the light. In her hand was a staff of translucent purple crystal, as raw as if she had just snapped it from its nursery. The crowd thinned as the strangers approached, many retreating back into the comforting shadows, or up the walls and into the safety of their caves.

    ¡°Dasri, I am trying to make our guests feel welcome,¡± Kagaa explained, trying to suppress the irritation in his voice.

    The one called Dasri seemed not to hear him. She paused in front of the party. Up close, Sakrattars could see that her and her followers had sunken, bony features, as if malnourished. ¡°The Voice in the Deep told me you were here,¡± Dasri said. ¡°I will bring you before it.¡±

    Kagaa stepped between her and the party. ¡°They are under our protection. Please return to your temple, and take your followers with you.¡±

    Dasri still didn¡¯t move. She let out a single, harsh chirp and instantly focused all of her senses directly onto Kaja. ¡°You. It wants you most of all.¡± Jo stepped in front of Kaja, her eyes darkening dangerously. Dasri continued. ¡°Give us that girl, and we will see you safely to your destination: the innermost chamber of the Hollow Ones.¡± Sakrattars lifted his head. Was she talking about the Cryptaevium?

    ¡°Not going to happen. Ever.¡± Jo growled.

    Kagaa issued a command and a group of armed kobolds closed rank. They placed nervous hands on the stone daggers at their belts,, clearly hesitant to draw them against Dasri and her followers. ¡°Go home, Dasri,¡± Kagaa repeated, more forcefully this time.

    Dasri lingered, her calm, mirthless aura colder than the stone surrounding them. ¡°The Voice in the Deep will not be denied,¡± she said. But despite her words, she turned away, leading her followers back the way they came and out of sight.

    Kagaa turned back toward the party, the embarrassment and grief plain on his face. ¡°I apologize, sincerely,¡± he said.

    ¡°What was that about?¡± Jo growled, still on guard even though Dasri and the others were gone.

    ¡°I warned you about going deeper into the city,¡± he said sadly. ¡°Sometimes when our people stray too far, they come back. . . changed. They can¡¯t stop talking about something called the ¡®Voice in the Deep.¡¯ They keep saying that it¡¯s speaking to them, or calling to them, and urging them to go deeper.¡±

    Sakrattars perked up and peered into the shadows where Dasri and her followers had vanished. Kagaa¡¯s words were ominous, but they also offered a bit of hope: Dasri knew how to get to the Cryptaevium, and she seemed willing to bring them there when the others were not. Everything was screaming at Sakrattars that it would be dangerous, but what other choice did they have? It was either that, or join the countless dead already in Ainchalez.

    So enveloped in his thoughts was he, that Sakrattars didn¡¯t notice Kaja nervously pulling at her cloak.

    ¡°They live in another chamber, some distance from here,¡± Kagaa continued. ¡°They¡¯ve set it up as a temple, but we view it more as an asylum.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just drive them off for good?¡± Leif asked.

    Kagaa was shocked. ¡°They may be different from us, but they are our former friends, they are our family members. Many of them have sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, even spouses still among us. Do your people drive away anyone who is different?¡±

    Leif flushed red, chastened. ¡°No, of course not,¡± he said.

    ¡°One day, maybe we can help them. For now, we merely tolerate one another. They have never hurt us, and we never hurt them. They don¡¯t usually come into the village but, then again, we don¡¯t usually have visitors.¡± He didn¡¯t say it outright, but Kaja could sense that Kagaa was talking about her. ¡°Well, enough about them. You must be tired and hungry. I hope you like mushrooms and cave fish!¡± he said, forcing a cheery tone. Unsure and uneasy, the companions allowed themselves to be led away.

    *

    *

    Dinner was a stew of mushrooms and fish, just as Kagaa promised. Though completely tasteless, it was hot, and after days of dried trail rations it might as well have been divinely sent. The kobolds didn¡¯t have torches or candles, so Sakrattars quietly kept his magical light orbs active. Around half way through the meal, Kagaa suddenly rose and exclaimed in abject horror, ¡°our guests need light to see! I¡¯m so sorry!¡±, then immediately ordered a nearby kobold to fetch some burning logs from the cooking fire and set them in dented, scrap metal bowls along the table.

    Nearly the entire village had joined them for dinner, with the party sharing stories of the surface and answering dozens of mundane questions. The kobolds didn¡¯t really care about their adventures¡ªinstead they seemed fascinated by the simpler concepts. Describing things like rain, roads, and boats drew rapt attention. Even the idea of a ¡°day¡± and ¡°night¡± took a while to explain, and Sakrattars never quite got past the recurring question of ¡®what does sunlight smell like?¡¯.

    Afterward, the companions were led to one of the larger of the residential caves¡ªfortunately one on ground level. Though cramped and dark, it was dry and safe. Each companion claimed a nook for themselves, doing their best to fall asleep while trying to make sense of all they had seen.

    Tucked away, Sakrattars lay awake on his bed roll, plagued by thoughts and self-doubt. Convincing Kagaa to show them the way to the Cryptaevium seemed an impossible task, yet Dasri¡¯s motives for wanting to bring them there seemed less than sincere. And that wasn¡¯t even considering the objections Jo would have, especially after Dasri expressed wanting to take Kaja to see the ¡°Voice¡±. Sakrattars wasn¡¯t good with people, his family life growing up made that plain. Just how was he supposed to negotiate his way through this?

    He stared up at the stone ceiling, his arms crossed behind his head. Imperial elves were no strangers to enclosed spaces, but the idea that his ancient cousins could live comfortably in the mountain with no sunlight and no horizon was difficult to comprehend. There was much about this place that challenged everything Sakrattars thought he knew about the world around him. He drew a deep breath of the stale, earthy air and slowly let it out.

    As a child, Sakrattars had been obsessed with reading. His favorite books were ones about ancient history, folklore and mythology¡ªanything that had a touch of mystery. He loved finishing a particularly interesting book and laying on the throw rug, staring at the cover, processing what he¡¯d just read and daydreaming about how grand the world was and how much there was to learn. Like many wealthy elven houses, the Mistwood family had an extensive library collected over the generations. Sakrattars had read every book¡ªmany of them more than once. At first, his parents had been pleased with his thirst for knowledge, but their pleasure eroded away once they realized that their youngest son was more interested in fantasy than in practicality.

    And there was no room for flights of fancy in the Mistwood household. Sakrattars¡¯ eldest brother, Naesala, was a gifted businessman heavily involved in the bustling trade sector in Arvisian Bay. His second brother, Pelleas, had made a name for himself as a skilled politician in the Merchant¡¯s Council. His third brother, Fenian, was a famed artist based out of the guild city of Mykos, commissioned both publicly and privately to design city buildings and sculptures. Even his little sister, Mira, had earned her place by using natural charm and social savvy to cement beneficial relationships with other powerful people.

    With such a successful family, Sakrattars never stood out and was often forgotten¡ªsometimes on purpose, he suspected. They made no secret of the fact that they thought he was a fool for pursuing the unknown, that he was wasting his studious nature on silly children¡¯s stories and magical talents on superstitions. But Sakrattars hadn¡¯t let that stop him. When he left Barsicum to travel with Jo and Kaja, he was confident that he knew more than most about the mysteries of the world and how to find the answers that he lacked.

    But now, he was feeling the weight of what he had taken on. In the past few months, his entire world had changed. Not only did he not know so many things about the world, but he hadn¡¯t even known that he didn¡¯t know. The zmaj, the ordomai, the malevolent entities they faced¡ªeven the mere existence of organizations like the Irkallu had taken him completely by surprise, despite operating right under his nose. As his understanding of the world crumbled, the confidence he had felt initially was slowly replaced with a growing sense of unease. Mystery was exciting when it was just beyond reach, when it was just a missing piece to an otherwise complete puzzle. Now, he was beginning to see that the puzzle he¡¯d been working on for his whole life was actually just one small corner of a greater puzzle obscured by shadow. He wondered if his family had been right to call him a fool, after all.

    He had failed at so much already¡ªhis family business, rubbing elbows, making connections, and even academia¡ªthat all he had left to be good at was knowing things. And now, what he thought was his strength, his way to carve out meaning for himself, had turned against him. Sakrattars sighed and turned over on his bedroll, cupping his hand around Codex¡¯s cold, metal shell. If he had just let himself forget about the vision he saw when he took Kaja¡¯s hand on that fateful summer day, if he had let her and Jo leave without another word, if he didn¡¯t have this compulsive need to know. . . would he have been spared this terrible feeling? Would he be reading on a park bench in Barsicum, still assured that the words on the pages told the whole truth of the world?

    That night, Sakrattars dreamt that the stone floor opened up beneath him and swallowed him whole.