《Top The Tower》 Chapter 1 - Constricted ¡°Break¡­¡± her voice slips through an iron-barred window of the Long Fang Mountains Keep, catching on the wind. ¡°Break,¡± she insists. The air pirouettes around the twin curved peaks, descending again to devour her plea. Beckoned onward by her fervor, it collides with the Keep¡¯s wall. Its billowing form condenses and slithers through the bars into the prison cell of Ablee Urough. Moving with a will of its own, it coils along the cell¡¯s diameter, surrounded by the colorful chalk-drawn scene on its walls. Its loops slowly tighten, converging on the ¡°impudent runt¡± of the warlord Karich Urough. Ablee strains against her shackles as rivers of sweat pour from her shorn, auburn hairline. ¡°BREAK!¡± She demands. The piney perfume of the living wind plays on her tongue. Constricting her in tight circles, it wicks the moisture from her skin and drenched gray overalls. She starts to shiver and grinds her teeth as she pushes forward. Her calloused feet slip across the damp stone, and she falls, arms held back by her restraints. CLACK. Her chin hits the ground. ¡°Ablee!¡± exclaims the caricature of a woman with a basket of apples hanging from the crook of her arm. She kneels down, draped by the village square portrayed on the cell¡¯s walls. Its buildings and inhabitants are cartoonishly drawn in a chalky kaleidoscope of colors. ¡°Are you all right!?¡± She asks. Ablee strikes the floor with a fist and lies prone for a moment, bathed in the dim white light of The Tower. Her eye peeks out its corner to gaze upon the glowing titanic pillar, her barred window framing it like a picture of what she¡¯s been denied. Rolling to her side, her determined eyes narrowed. It was Karich¡¯s greatest ambition: Topping The Tower. I¡¯ll beat him to it. The woman¡¯s face is drawn with worry. ¡°Do you need help? I can call for Glimin.¡± Ablee¡¯s eyes turn to the woman. Smiling, a stream of bloody spit rolls down her cheek. ¡°Nah, Thalia, I juth bit my thongue.¡± Taking her feet, she spits onto the floor. With crimson dripping down her chin and her shackle-scraped wrists, her playful demeanor is like the calm of a storm¡¯s eye. ¡°Thee, no worth for wear!¡± Thalia nods, sensing her resolve. ¡°You¡¯ve got this. Keep going!¡± As the force of the wind batters Ablee, her head whips back and forth, trying to track its movements. Small puffs of loose chalk dust trail it as it rolls along the walls. What the hell is going on here? ¡°Cline?¡± she calls out, a coy smile on her face. ¡°You have another breakthrough with your chalk¡ª¡± A prolonged burst of icy air cuts off her voice. The surge doesn¡¯t relent, pushing her backward¡ªone step, then another¡ªuntil only the bindings on her arms hold her in place against its force. This has to be a sign... Tonight¡¯s not another wasted night... Tonight is different! She wraps the chains around her fists, pulling herself forward along them. ¡°You¡¯re right, Thalia!¡± Ablee shouts above the wind, locking eyes with her. ¡°Five years gone, but this ends now!¡± Straining, she repeatedly slams her heels into the floor, refusing to stop. Finally, she gains purchase, and then yanks. The iron of her restraints begins to stretch like wet clay. ¡°Yes,¡± she grunts, ¡°Yesss!¡± Drawn on the adjacent wall, a rum-addled pirate with ¡°PIN BEARD¡± stitched into his tricorn hat raises his mug and voice. ¡°Aye! Give it yer all, girl!¡± His long, pointed goatee bobs up and down as he hollers. ¡°Get yer brother out of this damned brig!¡± ¡°Cline¡­¡± She growls, reminded of her stolen sibling. Looking down at the second set of shackles, lying abandoned on the cell¡¯s floor, her memories overtake her.
¡°Pin Beard had an eye patch, right?¡± Cline asked, turning his head from his drawing to look at her through moppy black hair. ¡°Yeah, he did. The comic kept switching which eye it was on!¡± Ablee responded, her face and shackled hands poking up from the ground. The rest of her lay submerged in the stone-turned-paint like she was bathing in mud. The ¡°Runt¡± was even runtier at fifteen, her body not yet conditioned by three years of failed escape attempts. Cline¡¯s mouth pulled into a wide grin. ¡°Ha, wonder why they did that? Maybe he still had both eyes and got tired of keeping one shut.¡± ¡°Doubt it. The artist was probably being lazy.¡± She kicked out a leg, trailing a gray splatter through the air. ¡°No!¡± His cheeks sank into a scowl, and he yanked his screeching, chalky red finger across the wall. ¡°Do you know how many hours Roma works a week!?¡±This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Ablee narrowed her eyes at Cline, annoyed. Then the cell door slammed open; BANG! Their father, Karich, stood outside, the doorway cutting off the view of his hairline and arms. His eyebrows were caught in their perpetual furrow. She sat up from her mud bath, beads of the stony paint dripping down her glaring face. Her brother took a step back, butted up against the room¡¯s edge; Thalia hovered behind him, a motherly presence. Ablee¡¯s tongue overrode what little reason she could muster. ¡°Rude! Can you come back later? We¡¯re having an important conversation.¡± The warlord lowered his head and turned in a shoulder, entering the room sideways. As he did, his cloak caught on the iron door¡¯s hinge. He grabbed its clasp and forced it forward, dragging the doorframe into the cell. CLANG. The door pounded onto the ground. His gaze pierced Ablee, searching for some way to bring her to heel. ¡°Well?¡± She said, refusing to be cowed. Cline grimaced as the steps of Karich¡¯s steel-toed boots reverberated through the chamber, trudging toward his sister. ¡°Dad...¡± Karich looked down on her. ¡°You¡¯re finally figuring out your Ambrosia." he said, referring to her unique ability. His tone relayed no emotion. ¡°Why should you care? I¡¯ll never use it for---¡± "Because it was a gift!" He shouted, his ogre-sized foot crashed into her wet cheek. She huffed and tried to hold her own against the force, but the action was futile. "The Food of the Gods. Wasted on you embarrassments!" "It wasn''t a gift. You forced it on us," She hissed through gritted teeth as her muscles strained and gave way under his weight. Pushed down to the floor, his boot¡¯s heel dug into her throat while its toe threatened to collapse her temple. ¡°Dad, stop!¡± Cline protested. ¡°Please, what do you want!?¡± Karich twisted his leg, applying screaming pressure. ¡°Aa-aaahh!¡± Ablee stammered. She fought the urge to sink into the ground, but her instincts won. She gasped a quick breath before her head and body dropped into the stone. She heard Cline¡¯s voice as she sank below. ¡°Slip your shackles and swim away! There¡¯s nothing special about metal; it¡¯s all just paint!¡± Her hands, held by their bindings, remained above the surface. Pulling herself up, her scalp met again with the steel sole of Karich¡¯s boot. She bobbed against it as if caught beneath the rime of an icy lake. Suspended in a black abyss, she couldn¡¯t see anything. Only muffled shouts reached her ears. She lost track of time. Grabbing the rough-threaded pants around her father¡¯s calf, she dug her nails in, yearning for any form of vengeance. More shouting. She couldn¡¯t hold her breath. Her mouth opened, flooding with the dull taste of stone.
Ablee¡¯s focus snaps back to the present. Cline¡¯s drawings, her friends, watch with eyes full of hope. The metal of her shackles continues to warp and twist as she strains against them. Flexing, she pushes her arms to their limit. Her bindings stretch further, leaking frigid liquid iron down her wrists and into the creases of her clenched fists. Across the chalky village, a host of hopeful voices join in. ¡°This is it!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t quit!¡± ¡°FOR CLINE!¡± Her eyes are wide, her jaw set with focus. Two plumes of hot breath billow from her nostrils. Puff, puff, puff. The wind tugs them like a dragon¡¯s whiskers. She takes three long steps back. The links of her chains, slackening, plink to the floor. The chill air tears along the walls, stirring a storm of loose chalk dust. Ablee¡¯s eyes, locked on some distant point, don¡¯t waver, don¡¯t blink. He has to be right. There¡¯s nothing special about metal. Her right foot drops back, and she leans onto her left. The riotous gale continues to surge, pitching to a scream! Jump through it. It¡¯s all just paint. You¡¯ve got this... go... Go... GO! She throws herself forward, taking a step, then hopping and landing into a crouch. Capitalizing on her momentum, she fully extends her legs and rockets into the air. The chains rise behind her like twin serpents refusing to release their prey. Roaring, the undulating chalk dust storm rushes to meet her head-on. She swings her right arm, an iron-painted fist at its head. ¡°HYYAAAAHHHH!¡± The wind, changing direction, quickly jerks away from her strike. Her chain clings to its anchor, its links screeching in desperate protest. The shackle, wrung like a sponge, vomits slick gun-metal paint that splatters the floor. He was right! Its form starts to split, pulling apart around Ablee¡¯s wrist and reforming on its other side. CLINK. A viper¡¯s grin peels from ear to ear, and she wrenches her chest to the right, dragging her left arm forward through its shackle. Her now unrestrained fist smashes into the snout of the veering wind, and a piercing wail shakes the chamber. WAAAOOOO¡ª! As she flies through trembling air, her wild grin splits, ¡°Ha-Hyahahahaha!¡± Descending side-first, she bounces off the ground and rolls to a stop against the wall. Behind her, the discarded chains clatter toward the window in the wake of the retreating wind. Pin Beard reaches for the sash at his hip, ¡°Ye¡¯ve done it, girl! When you top that tower, etch ol¡¯ Pin Beard¡¯s name inta its roof!¡± He points a flint-lock pistol from his sash to the sky. ¡°Pin, the guards!¡± Thalia shouts and rushes to stop him, her basket tossed aside in a shower of red and gold produce. BANG! As the echoes of the shot diminish, the crowd looks down at Ablee, lying on her back, still shaking with laughter, ¡°Let ¡¯em come!¡±. She sits up and eyes the iron cell door, cupping her hands to her mouth, ¡°DAAADDYYY! Send whoever you want! I¡¯m gonna find you, and then I¡¯m GONNA BEAT YOUR ASS!¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± The chalk-drawn villagers cheer. Ablee gets to her feet. Eyeing the door, she rubs her iron-coated palms through her hair. ¡°Hey Glimin!¡± She shouts, tapping her foot. Pin Beard finishes reloading his flint-lock, ¡°The coward¡¯s probly runnin fer yer dad...¡± Ablee sneers, ¡°I¡¯m not waiting around here all night. He needs to hurry it up..." She looks around, all patience having fled her, then paces to the wall beside her cell door. A few chalky villagers move to get out of her way. She leans her head into the stone wall, and it turns to thick, muddy paint around her. Poking through to her shoulders on its other side, she wipes her eyes and looks up and down the lantern-lit stone corridor. Glimin¡¯s chair sits empty. ¡°I can¡¯t believe this guy.¡± ¡°GLIMIN!¡± her voice carries down the hallway, ¡°A gun went off in the warlord¡¯s daughter¡¯s bed-chambers! What in the hell are you doing!?¡± No response comes. She strides forward, dripping stone paint along the hall. Bang. She hears a muffled gunshot. Bang. Then another. Pulsing with excitement, she flings herself back through the wall to her cell, ¡°Good thinkin¡¯ Pinny, get ¡¯em all riled up!¡± Pin-Beard turns to her, his brow furrowed in confusion. ¡°That wasn¡¯t me, lass...¡± Chapter 2 - Arrival Earlier that night, in the village of Row: Two travelers stride into the subdued settlement in the valley of the Long Fang Mountains. The twin peaks curl around it like the maw of an ancient beast, their jagged ridges glinting in the Tower-light. Scents of pine and the acrid tang of wood smoke hang heavy in the air. Along the streets, patrolmen move in a dreary rhythm; shoulders slumped under the Warlord Karich Urough¡¯s rule. Dust rises from their tired footsteps, settling in the cracks of splintered wooden beams and sagging rooftops. Every inch of the place bears the scars of its master¡¯s iron grip, from crumbling walls to the quiet sobs from within its shuttered homes. Making her way down a forlorn street is a woman in stark contrast to Row''s hollow-eyed inhabitants. She moves with a purpose that turns heads and widens eyes, her silhouette sharp and striking against the backdrop of decay. Dressed in all black, a flat-brimmed hat crowns her tall frame, and her blonde hair flows in wild disarray beneath it. The outfit she wears is of glaringly expensive make. Its blouse sports a plunging, collared neckline and billowing, unbuttoned sleeves. A long cape draped across her back ripples with her alluring movements. Her impeccably pressed pants look fresh from the tailor''s rack, hugging the lithe curve of her hips. Trailing behind her is Rhody, a girl on the verge of adulthood, clothed in the gray woolen robes of an acolyte. Her petite frame struggles against a pack suited for a circus strong-man. Her every step is an effort as she adjusts the heavy straps digging into her shoulders. It bulges with equipment: munitions, spare clothing, and Zeph''s leather-bound log book tucked into a side pocket. Around her neck is a silver chain. A flame-red pouch hangs at its end, swinging beneath her. The girl¡¯s soft features and nervous glances mark her in deep contrast to Miss Calm and Collected. The black-clad bombshell struts forward without a care, daring anyone to stand in her way. ¡°Zeph,¡± Rhody calls, her voice strained with exertion. ¡°Can we¡­ slow down? Just a little?¡± The woman doesn¡¯t even turn her head. ¡°Slowing down,¡± she says, ¡°is for people who haven¡¯t got a warlord to kill." Her terse statement cuts through any objections Rhody harbored. The girl pulls her inky-blue locks into a ponytail and trudges on, trying her best to keep up. Ahead, a group of six patrolmen rounds a corner, their spears popping against the packed dirt ground. Their steps falter as they take in the tall figure striding toward them. ¡°Halt!¡± barks one of the men, his voice cracking. He levels his quivering spear with all the grace of a newborn calf. Battling his anxiety, he tries to steady it. One of the rear guard nudges another, "Theod''s report... that''s her, the Ace of Swords..." As Zeph walks on, Rhody¡¯s feet root in place, her breath caught between panic and disbelief. The acolyte''s hands fumble around the pouch of her silver necklace, unclasping it and sliding out a tarot deck. The pristine cards are backed in midnight blue with a sprinkling of gold-foiled stars. Eyeing the spear-man, her left palm cups the deck. The shaking fingers of her right snap up the top card. Turning it to her eyes, its face is a glossy white, without suit or rank. She lets out a small sigh of relief before moving her attention to the next patrolman. Zeph shoots Rhody a quick glance. "None of these whelps warrant a reading; put those away and ready yourself, like we discussed." The patrol¡¯s lead steps forward, his weapon poised at Zeph¡¯s chest. ¡°You¡¯ll go no further. Row''s got a curfew; anyone breaking it¡¯s to be imprisoned and lashed ---Karich¡¯s orders!¡± Zeph¡¯s eyes drop to the shaft in his hands, and she grins¡ªa toothy, predator''s grin. Her gaze flickers, measuring him. ¡°You¡¯re going to subdue me with a stick?¡± The patrol leader inches the razor-sharp head of his spear closer, its tip tapping a button on Zeph''s blouse. ¡°You¡¯re going to subdue Zepharin, the next Queen of Assassins, WITH A STICK?!¡± The man stutters, ¡°A-a spear.¡± Her hand blurs into motion. One moment, it hangs loose at her side; the next, it points a silvered revolver at his spear''s shaft, just beneath its tip. The man¡¯s eyes snap to the word ¡°APPLAUSE¡± engraved into its barrel. BANG. A shower of splinters pelts the patrolman¡¯s face, and he reflexively turns away, his shout of surprise swallowed by the echoing crack.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°What spear!?¡± She cackles as Applause''s recoil whips her arm around her like an orbiting celestial body, its revolution ending against the side of his head. The impact lands with a deafening clang, his helmet flying loose as he crumples to the ground. Chaos erupts. The remains of the patrol lunge forward as Zeph sidesteps their rush, more dancing than fighting. BANG. A single shot rings out, shattering a second spear. BANG, BANG. The fragments of a third and fourth scatter to the ground. One of the guards rushes her from the side, but she twists on her heel, her cape flaring out like a raven''s wing. The man, dazzled, doesn''t register the heel of her thigh-high boot zipping toward his throat. She moves like a river cutting through stone, her strikes precise and efficient. BANG. Applause belches smoke and fire as she dismantles the patrol¡¯s defenses, shattering their weapons and resolve with little effort. Shouts rise from around the village, growing louder as lanterns flicker to life in nearby houses. Curtains rustle as wary eyes peek out, their owners unwilling to intervene but too curious to turn away. ¡°Zeph, I think we should start moving!¡± The shrill of Rhody''s voice calls out to her as she searches for an escape route. Her trembling legs and the weight of her pack conspire to keep her still. Lantern light dances between the surrounding buildings, casting long, jittering shadows across the uneven walls and streets. BANG. "Empty!" Zeph shrugs as she tosses the hot revolver over her shoulder. Duty overcoming her, Rhody rushes forward to catch it with a startled yelp, fumbling to reload the weapon. Zeph snatches a discarded spear from the ground, twirling it like a marching baton in a lazy figure-eight. ¡°Why are you fighting the whole town!?¡± Rhody shouts as her fingers fumble around the ammunition. ¡°Aren¡¯t assassins supposed to be subtle?¡± ¡°What, who told you that!? An assassin¡¯s supposed to be notorious. How would a subtle assassin even find work!?¡± Zeph retorts, her voice filled with indignation as she ducks beneath a wide swing and sweeps the legs from under a new arrival. The patrolmen continue to fall until only one remains, useless, like the tip of a busted spear. His knees buckle and drop as Zeph approaches, her arm reaching for his paltry weapon. He offers no resistance as she slides it from his hands. She tosses it aside and holds out her now empty palm. The acolyte returns Applause, its belly full, to its rightful place. ¡°Now,¡± Zeph says with a sugary lilt. ¡°My assistant Rhody''s going to ask you some questions.¡± The man nods, his lips trembling as Rhody shuffles forward, flipping open Zeph''s logbook. The black cover of the leather-bound tome peels away like an old scab, revealing rows of names. Each is dressed with a thick line through its middle. Line after line of past marks march across the page, then another page, and more others, leading to six names that remain untouched, the first of which is Karich Urough. ¡°Keep¡¯s defenses?¡± Rhody asks, her pencil poised. Her tone is clipped but steady now, her earlier nervousness replaced by a determined calm. The man stammers out everything he can recall: guard rotations, entrances and exits, and directions to Karich¡¯s chambers. Zeph, disinterested, taps the barrel of Applause against her thigh.
Wrapping up the interrogation, Rhody hoists her pack and returns to Zeph¡¯s side. ¡°Okay, I think I¡¯ve got a plan.¡± Zeph raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching with the hint of a smirk. ¡°First step?¡± ¡°It seems our best shot of entering the Keep unscathed is through its roof.¡± ¡°Alright, prepare the hook.¡± Zeph starts trudging toward the peaks in the distance, intent on the Keep lying between them. The towering structure seems to pulse with menace, its jagged parapets slicing into the night sky. ¡°Wait, don¡¯t you want to know the¡ª¡± ¡°Rhody!¡± Zeph says, ¡°Don¡¯t pull my focus.¡± ¡°But-¡± ¡°No buts.¡± Zeph tosses her head, her golden locks spinning behind her. ¡°Just keep up.¡± Zeph strides away, casting a long shadow across the dusty ground. Rhody groans and pockets the logbook, trudging on. Looking up at the tall walls of the Keep, she can¡¯t hold her tongue, ¡°You don¡¯t expect me to climb rope with this pack on?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll figure it out," Zeph calls over her shoulder. "Father Herus said you¡¯re resourceful.¡± She glances back, her grin sharp and unapologetic. ¡°Now hurry up. I want to claim this mark at daybreak. That¡¯ll read better in the papers.¡± Behind Zeph and Rhody, the village lies silent again, though its inhabitants remain restless. Children peek from their hiding spots, their wide eyes following the gunslinger and her retainer as they vanish into the distance. Above, the shadow of the Long Fang Mountains¡¯ Keep looms large, the faint sound of the wind whispering promises of challenge and glory. Chapter 3 - Toil Perched on the edge of the Keep''s roof, Rhody¡¯s muscles seethe like a forge stoked to its limit, her arms quaking as she pulls against a rope. Her breath bursts out in ragged hisses, each exhale a battle. Below, the pack swings like a mule caught in quicksand¡ªstubborn, heavy, and unwilling to budge. It clings to the tower¡¯s face, its weight dragging against the stone and mocking her every effort. ¡°Move,¡± she growls through gritted teeth. The coarse rope tears at her palms. Her fingers ache with the urge to let go, to release the cursed thing and let it crash into the shadows below. But the thought of Zeph¡¯s cutting disappointment and the stakes of their mission chain her to the task. The village of Row looms below, its scattered lanterns like a constellation of stars. Sounds of chaos simmer up from the windows across the Keep: the sharp crack of gunfire, the ring of steel meeting steel, and the hollers of some spoiled brat who hasn''t shut up since they started their climb. All of it fades, eclipsed by the fibers of the rope biting into her hands and the inferno raging in her limbs. Toil. Her thoughts wander.
The courtyard of the King of Wands Temple buzzed with life the day Rhody first laid eyes on a Royal Tarot Deck. Its towering spires pierced the sky, their intricate carvings glinting in the sunlight. Fiery red banners rippled in the breeze, each emblazoned with the King¡¯s golden emblem, a staff wreathed in flames. Beneath the spires, grand stone columns encircled the courtyard, their bases etched with winding depictions of the god¡¯s endeavors. The air was rich with incense, a heady mix of cedar and frankincense, mingling with the murmur of awed voices. Rhody, nine years old and rail-thin, hid behind one of the towering columns. Her patched dress hung loosely on her, and her tangled inky-blue hair cascaded into her wide, dirt-smudged eyes. Barefoot, her calloused toes gripped the stone as she leaned forward, peeking at the scene before her. The acolyte, her flowing robes edged with gilded patterns, stood at the courtyard''s center. Her deck gleamed like treasure, each card catching the sun''s light and shimmering. The crowd gasped as the acolyte revealed destinies of those fated members of her audience. Her calm voice belied secrets as though reading from the gods¡¯ own script. Rhody¡¯s breath caught¡ªawed, envious, yearning. This was power. This was divinity. From that day forward, Rhody¡¯s dreams were steeped in the allure of fate¡¯s mysteries. Every moment she wasn¡¯t working¡ªscrubbing the temple floors or hauling water for the priests¡ªshe spent in the temple''s back alley. Reading the faces of her fellow orphans, watching for the faint twitch of an eye or the telltale quirk of the mouth, she wagered and bluffed, mastering another deck of cards. Five-card draw became her second language. With it, she might be able to afford a third. She learned the art of bluffing, feigning hesitation in a hand¡¯s slight tremor or the downward flick of her gaze. But the rush of a perfectly played hand paled next to the thought of holding a Royal Tarot Deck. Those cards, blessed by the King of Wands himself, could reveal a person¡¯s divine rank¡ªtheir place in the intricate web of existence. Scraping together her winnings, she purchased a battered old Tarot deck from a second-hand shop, an invaluable tool in achieving her ultimate goal. The next week, she won a book on reading the cards off one of the temple''s elders.
The next Spring, bittersweet news came in the announcement of a contest to become the temple''s next acolyte, the position left vacant in a tragic accident. Royal Tarot Decks, bound to their acolytes, were expensive for the temple to create. As such, positions among the acolytes didn¡¯t open often and were reserved for youth, who had more time to train and maximize the temple''s investment in them. Knowing this might be her only chance to claim her dream, she gave it everything she had. Studying any materials she could get her hands on and drilling gymnastics routines until her muscles screamed. Even then, she felt the gap between herself and the others¡ªchildren from wealthier families who had tutors and training, whose Tarot decks weren¡¯t scuffed and peeling like hers. Brenna. Sweet, perfect Brenna. Her friend, her rival. Her jealous obsession. Each of the three aspects of the contest¡ªreciting sacred texts, gymnastics, and Tarot reading¡ªwas just a part of who she was. Rhody used to look up to her; now she saw her as a mountain to summit. ¡°You don¡¯t have to push yourself so hard, Rhody,¡± Brenna said after practice one day, offering a hand to pull Rhody out of yet another failed cartwheel. ¡°Don''t worry, it¡¯s okay if this isn¡¯t for you. You''re great at cards!¡± Rhody smiled through clenched teeth, her palms burning from the rough stone. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± But she wasn¡¯t. When the final test came, her readings faltered. She couldn¡¯t remember the second half of the passage she''d tried to memorize, and her gymnastics routine ended with her lying on her back. She came in last, dead last, her performance so poor that Father Herus didn¡¯t bother to tally her score. Brenna was chosen, of course. Rhody watched her ascend to the altar, radiating pride in the robes of an acolyte, her new Royal Tarot Deck gleaming in her hands. The bitterness burned worse than failure. Brenna hardly even tried.
Over the next three years, Rhody continued to push herself, hoping desperately for another chance. She begged Brenna to share insights on her training, trying to replicate it with her limited resources. The conversation always went the same way. "Rhody, you''re thirteen... another year and you won''t even be eligible..." Brenna would say, trying to dissuade her. "Besides, it''s not as great as it seems." That Fall, Brenna disappeared, leaving nothing but a note in her chambers. The temple elders released a statement that she had taken a pilgrimage, but Rhody knew she wouldn¡¯t be coming back. Brenna loved the idea of being an acolyte, but it didn¡¯t challenge her. She¡¯d grown bored. When the temple elders sought a replacement, Rhody¡¯s name wasn¡¯t even whispered. She¡¯d failed too spectacularly. The other orphans snickered behind her back, calling her "Table-scraps.¡± Even Father Herus, who indulged her endless questions about the gods, seemed to pity her. But Rhody wouldn¡¯t give up. She poured herself into her training, cutting all frivolities from her life. Her Tarot readings grew sharper, her interpretations more profound. Still, the elders dismissed her. She had her chance, and she failed.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. One night, sitting cross-legged on the temple floor with her deck before her, Rhody flipped a card over slowly, meditating on her next step. The King of Wands stared back at her, the card¡¯s golden edges gleaming in the candlelight. Her pulse quickened. The message was clear: This wasn¡¯t over.
Father Herus¡¯s vice was no secret. The old priest, with his stooped shoulders and threadbare cassock, loved gambling as much as he loved to preach. His wispy gray hair never stayed combed, and his sunken eyes, perpetually shadowed, gave him the air of a man who wrestled nightly with his conscience¡ªand usually lost. His cracked fingers often fiddled with a weathered coin, his luck charm, as he recounted tales of divine wisdom from the pulpit with a charm that belied his failing stature. Yet, at the poker table, his charisma faltered. Over the years, Rhody had played countless hands with him, learning his tells¡ªthe way his left eyebrow twitched when he bluffed, how his breath hitched just a moment too long when holding a strong hand. Back then, he would lose a few coins, chuckle at his folly, and wave her off with a self-deprecating grin. But lately, his losses had grown larger, the laugh lines around his mouth giving way to deeper creases of worry. His coin purse hung pitifully light on his belt. Each ante seemed like a prayer for deliverance that the gods refused to answer. Rhody knew the acolyte position was still vacant. And she knew they would never offer it to her. Unless¡­
Rhody riffled the deck, the cards shuffling with a satisfying hiss. She dealt five cards each, her movements practiced and deliberate. Across the table, Father Herus rubbed his temples, his stack of coins pitifully small. ¡°This is a terrible idea,¡± he muttered, fanning out his cards. His expression tightened, but Rhody spotted that telltale twitch in his left eyebrow. A bluff. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± she said lightly, rearranging her cards. ¡°But here we are.¡± Father Herus groaned as she pushed a bet into the center of the table. ¡°You¡¯re relentless.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what makes me good,¡± Rhody said, her tone calm, her gaze sharp as she discarded a card and drew its replacement. Father Herus hesitated, then discarded two cards with a sigh. ¡°All right, but don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you.¡± The pot grew as they upped the stakes, coins glinting faintly in the lamplight. Finally, the moment came to lay down their cards. Father Herus revealed his hand first. ¡°Queen high straight,¡± he said, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "What ya got?" ¡°Nice." Rhody said, her grin slow and deliberate as she flipped her cards. ¡°But not nice enough.¡± Three Jacks and two sevens lay in front of her. "Full house. I know you love those, Mr. Preacher." Father Herus groaned, leaning back in his chair. ¡°You¡¯re bleeding me dry,¡± he muttered, his eyes growing wet. ¡°How about a wager?¡± Rhody offered, gathering the cards to shuffle. He hesitated. "I don''t have much more to give you..." Rhody pulled a hefty leather sack from her patchy book-satchel and set it on the table. "Your last three months'' losses, one hand. I don''t want any more of your money." She saw his hands begin to shake. A good sign. ¡°What... what do you want in return?¡± he grumbled. ¡°The acolyte position,¡± she said, dealing out their cards. ¡°If I win, you''ll back me. Convince the other elders I can handle it.¡± Father Herus froze, his face tightening. ¡°Rhody, I can''t¡ª¡± he said, "It... It wouldn''t be a good fit for you." "You''re wrong!" Her voice strained, breaking her expertly-crafted demeanor. "I know what happened in that contest, but I''ve come so far since then. I''m better than Brenna. I actually care about this." His eyes narrowed upon her. "It''d be an abuse of my position..." "Let fate decide it." she interrupted. ¡°If you win, I¡¯ll leave the temple and find something else." He let out a sigh that carried the weight of resignation, and picked up his cards.
The powerful rhythm of Applause''s barks ends, and Rhody returns to her senses. Shit, she''s run out of bullets. The pack has to reach the roof. If Rhody falters now, their entire mission could crumble like a castle of cards. She jerks at the rope, and the pack scrapes upward with a reluctant screech. Rhody gasps at the movement, dragging in icy air. For a fleeting moment, hope stirs in her. ¡°Almost there,¡± she whispers, the words pleading. She leans back, bracing her blistered feet against the roof''s edge. The motion sends a shiver of terror through her. One misstep, and she¡¯ll tumble over the edge. She grits her teeth. ¡°Come on,¡± she hisses, her voice edged with desperation. She can see Zeph¡¯s smirk in her mind, hear her sharp, irreverent quip: Slowing down¡¯s for people who don¡¯t have a warlord to kill. The words carve into her. Zeph thinks I can do this. Another heave. The pack inches higher. Sweat stings her eyes, blurring her vision, and frustration wells up within, threatening tears she refuses to shed. Tools, ammunition, Zeph''s logbook¡ªthe pack carries everything they need to bring down Karich Urough. She won¡¯t fail. She can¡¯t. "Rhody!" She hears Zeph''s commanding voice and flinches, her grip tightening. Damn it, why am I so weak?! Zeph is incredibly capable, but she isn¡¯t invincible. And she certainly isn¡¯t patient. If the pack doesn¡¯t reach the roof soon, Rhody¡¯s tender palms will be the least of her problems. The pack grates upward, inch by agonizing inch. Rhody pauses, her head drooping forward as she gulps air. Her body shakes, her arms feel like jelly, and the temptation to tie off the rope for a moment¡¯s rest gnaws at her resolve. No one would know. I would know. With a feral growl, Rhody squats and yanks one last time. The pack lurches, cresting the edge and teetering back against her as she lands on her ass. Rhody collapses onto the cold stone, her limbs splayed, her chest heaving. The length of the Tower blurs in her vision, mocking her exhaustion with its indifferent glow. ¡°Never again,¡± she mutters, her voice hoarse. "Rhody!" Zeph shouts again, jolting her upright. The battle below rages on. Groaning, she drags herself to her knees and grips the pack like a stubborn beast. With one determined motion, she slings it over her shoulder.
Below, in the Keep''s kitchen, Zeph moves with feral grace. Her every step is sharp, deliberate. She whips about the room with Applause, parrying sword strikes with its barrel. A guard charges, the tip of his saber driving toward her midsection. Zeph doesn¡¯t dodge¡ªshe flows, her long coat flaring out behind her. The blade whistles harmlessly past her side. Spinning on her heel, she rounds Applause with the precision of a striking viper. The man collapses to the ground, knocked out cold. "This is your defense, Karich?!" Zeph bellows, her voice cutting deep into the Keep''s labyrinthine tunnels. ¡°Send me someone worthy!¡± Her words barely settle before another guard barrels toward her, a jagged blade raised high. His face twists in a grimace of desperation, his eyes flickering between Zeph and the fallen already littering the ground. He charges with a roar, but Zeph steps into his momentum, her motion incredibly sudden. The butt of Applause slams into his temple with a crunch. His roar dies in his throat as he rebounds against a stone wall. Zeph catches the hilt of his falling blade, spinning it into her free hand without missing a beat. She resumes her hunt. Chapter 4 - Collision The clamor of boots and the sharp clang of steel echo through the halls of Karich Urough¡¯s keep, their rhythm punctuated by Zeph¡¯s bold laughter. She strides through the chaos on her boisterous hunt, her voice ringing out like a war horn. Her black cape flares with each confident step, the hem snapping against her heels. ¡°Come on, Karich!¡± she bellows, her voice carrying through the twisting corridors. A guard lunges from the shadows, his spear aimed for her chest, but Zeph sidesteps with a flourish, twisting her body in a practiced arc. The spear grazes empty air as she brings the hilt of her stolen sword crashing down on the man¡¯s helmet, the impact echoing loudly. Without missing a beat, she spins toward another guard, her fist connecting squarely with his jaw. He stumbles back, clutching his face as she presses forward. ¡°Where¡¯s your master hiding?¡± she taunts, her grin wide and wolfish. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me he¡¯s too scared to greet his guest of honor.¡± The air grows heavy with the tension of pursuit, guards hesitating as they hear her taunts. Zeph moves through them wildly, each strike deliberate and devastating. Her blade flashes in the torchlight, its blunt end battering weapons aside as she fights. She throws her head wantonly, freeing her golden locks from the sweat on her cheeks. ¡°Karich!¡± she shouts again, her tone mocking. A guard lunges, his spear aimed for her midsection. Zeph sidesteps with casual grace, the blade missing her by inches as she brings the hilt of her own crashing into his shoulder. The man spins, colliding with a wall. She turns and ducks another swinging blade. Her hips thrust back against its owner, sending him tumbling over one of his spent colleagues. Zeph¡¯s breath comes sharp but steady, her feral grin unshaken. From the shadows of a crumbling archway, Ablee Urough grins, her wide eyes locked on the spectacle. The girl¡¯s wiry frame, coated in a thick layer of gray stone paint, blends seamlessly into the dim walls. Ablee¡¯s breath hitches as she watches Zeph dismantle Karich¡¯s men with artistic grace. The assassin¡¯s movements are fluid and forceful. "She has to join my climbing party..." Ablee whispers. The admiration in her voice surprises even herself. Her arms hang at her sides, bare and streaked with dripping paint. Though her shackles are gone, the weight of her captivity lingers, a phantom pain digging into her wrists. She¡¯s spent so long dreaming of her escape, of the strength it would take to stand against Karich¡¯s men. Yet here is this stranger, moving through them as easily as a knife through silk. Zeph parries another blow, catching her enemy¡¯s weapon in a flash of sparks. With a flick of her wrists knocks the attacker off balance and brings her revolver in front of her and clangs it against his forehead like a door knocker, toppling him. For a moment, Ablee forgets her mission entirely. Her anger at Karich, her longing for vengeance¡ªit all blurs under the magnetism of Zeph¡¯s raw skill. The sharp echo of Zeph¡¯s taunts is cut short by a low, silken voice dripping with mockery. ¡°Ah, the so-called Future Queen of Assassins.¡± it purrs, slicing through the din of the keep. ¡°What a reputation. So... theatrical.¡± Zeph halts mid-step, her head snapping toward the voice. From the shadows at the end of the corridor, a figure emerges, tall and unnervingly gaunt. He wears porcelain mask gleams in the dim torchlight, its painted grin a parody of civility. The deep blue and gold of his cloak glimmers faintly as he walks with languid confidence. A polearm rests across his shoulders, its blade wickedly curved. ¡°Finally,¡± Zeph says, her grin widening. ¡°I was starting to think I''d find no challenge here.¡± She raises the sword and shifts her stance. "What was that?" He asks, leaning closer. Ablee''s eyes narrow upon her father''s subservient. ¡°Rinval The Deaf¡± she mutters angrily, naming the man she once considered a friend, "You''ll see no aid from me against this witch." "I''m not going to repeat myself!" Zeph shouts as a subtle weight seeps into the air around her. It clings to her skin and wraps around her thoughts. Her grip on the sword feels a little less steady. She tries to shakes it off, lunging forward with a sweeping strike aimed at Rinval¡¯s midsection. His polearm spins, deflecting her blade with a resounding clang. His effortless counter leaves Zeph off-balance. How did he... ¡°Tsk,¡± Rinval chides, his voice soft yet piercing. ¡°So much passion, so much fire¡ªand yet, it burns carelessly.¡± His words slither into her mind, twisting her focus. Zeph snarls, driving forward with another strike, this one heavier, angrier. Rinval parries again, his pole-arm twirling lazily. Her swings grow wilder, her precision faltering as his words drip into her psyche. Ablee grits her teeth, "Come on lady, you can take him..." ¡°Tell me, loudly please,¡± he continues, his tone light but unyielding, ¡°you don''t really think you can topple a warlord, do you? You''ve over-extended yourself, Zeph." ¡°Shut it,¡± Zeph growls, her teeth gritted as she presses her attack. Her blade arcs again, but Rinval sidesteps, his polearm darting forward. Its razor-keen tip slides into her right shoulder, pulling a spray of crimson from the black fabric of her blouse. She stumbles back, cursing under her breath. ¡°Ah, there it is,¡± Rinval says, his tone turning almost playful. ¡°A crack in the would be Queen¡¯s facade.¡± Zeph hisses, trying to ignore the wound. Her pain marries with the oppressive weight of Rinval¡¯s words. Threatening to drown her focus. She glances at the nearest doorway, her mind racing.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. With a sudden burst of movement, she turns and sprints, her boots pounding against the stone. Rinval laughs, his footsteps calm and unhurried as he follows. Zeph dives into an open chamber, then slams and bars its wooden door. Where is that acolyte? I need ammunition. "Rhody!" she calls out. Her breaths coming faster. Her bloodied blouse clings tight to her skin as she rummages the room for any sort of advantage. Rinval¡¯s voice seeps beneath the door, low and steady. ¡°Well that was easy. You''ll find that room doesn''t have any other exits. You planning to bleed out in there?¡± He pauses for a moment, "Huh?!"
Rhody rushes through the keep, skidding to a stop at the edge of a junction. Her breath hitches as she presses herself against the cold stone wall. She peeks cautiously around the corner. Zeph''s assailant leans against a wall, his porcelain mask leveled at a wooden cube he''s working with his hands, twisting and reorienting sections of it. His unreadable visage and shimmering pole-arm send a chill down Rhody''s spine. Her hand darts to the red pouch hanging from her neck, fingers fumbling as she pulls out her Royal Tarot Deck. Her hands tremble as she quickly shuffles it, whispering a silent prayer to steady herself before drawing a card. She turns it over, her breath catching. A hand descends from the heavens, holding a golden chalice overflowing with crystal-clear water, flipped upside-down, its meaning is reversed. He''s an Ace of Cups, the trump to Zeph¡¯s Ace of Swords. If they fight, Zeph''ll have an up-hill battle. Her heart sinks like a stone. Her mind races, panic twisting through her chest. She scans the hall, desperate for a solution, and her eyes land on a doorway, leading to a chamber adjacent Zeph¡¯s. An idea forms, shaky but solid enough to cling to. Moving as silently as she can with her over-sized pack, Rhody trudges into the room and inspects the wall between her and the assassin. She can hear Zeph''s labored breathing, and spots a small, paper-thin crack in the the wall''s mortar. ¡°Zeph,¡± she whispers. ¡°It¡¯s me. I¡¯m here.¡±
Inside, Zeph freezes at the faint sound of Rhody¡¯s voice filtering through the wall. ¡°Rhody!¡± she feels an ounce of relief, that quickly floods out her gushing chest-wound. Ablee leans casually against the chamber''s other wall, dripping with a fresh coat of stony paint. ¡°That your kid?¡± she asks, her tone laced with curiosity and a hint of mischief. Zeph spins, trying to spot the intrusive voice''s source, Applause''s barrel tracking with her eyes. Ablee waves a camouflaged hand, drawing Zeph''s gaze, "Yoohoo!" "How''d you get in here? Where''s the hidden passage?" Zeph demands, trying to relay a calm demeanor. Her empty revolver leveled at the girl. Ablee laughs, "Closed behind me..." "Bullshit, tell me, now!" A twinge crawls across Zeph''s cheek, coaxed by her screaming shoulder. Ablee treads toward her, "Alright fine, there''s no secret door. I swam through that wall," she says, gesturing behind her. Zeph groans, pinching the bridge of her nose with her free hand. "Why do I find that more believable?" she asks herself, "If you don''t have an exit for me, what are you doing here?" "You were putting on a good show, until that jackalope Rinval got involved," Ablee scratches her chin, "You''re here to kill my dad right?" "Your Dad?" The revelation hits her and Zeph drops into a stance, "One more step and I''ll shoot." Ablee continues her advance, "That''s not going to happen. Plus it''d be pretty dumb, I don''t want to stop you." "You... huh? I''m going to kill your Dad!" Zeph squints, trying to get a read on the girl. Ablee nods, her cheeks rising in a smirk, "He''s got it coming. Though now I''m not sure you and your kid are up it, you''re looking a bit pale." Zeph stumbles and rights herself, "I''m fine." she says through gritted teeth, frustration bleeding into her voice. Ablee points to her shoulder, "Let me see it." Hesitant, Zeph sighs and then holsters Applause. She pops the top two buttons of her blouse and lowers it, revealing her shoulders. A thin line along the right pumps repeated gushes of crimson down her chest. Ablee approaches her, palm extended. "Don''t freak out," she says, and lays it flat to the unblemished skin on the other side of Zeph''s chest. It ripples, and Zeph''s eyes widen as Ablee''s hand pushes forward, disappearing beneath its surface. Ablee yanks it back out, coated in silky white paint matching Zeph''s skin-tone. "Wha-what in the-" Zeph stammers. Ablee rolls her eyes and smears the paint along Zeph''s stab-wound, leaving behind a patch of wet fresh skin, "That should hold you for a little bit." Zeph¡¯s eyes narrow as she studies Ablee, deeply suspicious. The girl¡¯s painted form shimmers in the dim light, the stone coating on her skin lending her an otherworldly presence. Zeph doesn¡¯t trust easily, and she¡¯s not about to start now, but she could use this girl. "You said you can swim through walls?" "Yep! What you got in mind?" Ablee asks, "I can''t take you with me. You''re going to have to walk out that door..." "My acolyte, behind that wall. She''s got ammunition that I need." "Oh, yeah no problem!" Without waiting for further instruction, Ablee steps into the wall, leaving no trace of the intrusion. Zeph stares at the now-empty space. She leans against a nearby dresser, taking a moment to weigh her options. This girl is reckless, sure, but there¡¯s no denying she''s capable. Zeph doesn¡¯t like working with wildcards, but the situation leaves her little choice.
Rhody¡¯s Royal Tarot Deck weighs heavily in her trembling hands. Her wide eyes fix on the figure stepping through the wall. Ablee¡¯s looks like a polished statue. This has to be the yammering brat we heard on our climb. The voices are the same... Rhody instinctively draws a card. Turning it over, the face shimmers gold¡ªa radiant, unreadable enigma. Her breath hitches. A rank outside her training. Her heart sinks at the implications. What the hell is this girl? Ablee catches sight of Rhody¡¯s stunned expression and grins, her teeth flashing in the dim light. ¡°What?¡± she teases, crossing her arms with casual confidence. ¡°Never seen a walking wall before?¡± Rhody swallows hard, her throat dry. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ One of the Urough kids?¡± At the sound of her last name, Ablee¡¯s grin falters, her eyes narrowing slightly. Her tone, once playful, turns sharp. ¡°Yeah, Ablee Urough. What¡¯s it to you?¡± Rhody¡¯s thoughts go to Zeph¡¯s logbook, tucked in the bulging pack she carries. Her mind races. Ablee¡¯s name is scrawled clearly among the list of marks, a future target that Zeph is slated to eliminate. The realization sends a shiver down Rhody¡¯s spine, but she puts on her best poker-face, tucking the revelation away for later. Her hands tighten around the deck, her expression neutral as she forces herself to focus. ¡°Nothing,¡± Rhody says after a pause, her voice quieter now. ¡°Just¡­ heard stories.¡± Ablee¡¯s grin returns. ¡°Yeah, I bet! You heard the witch right? Gimme the bullets.¡±, she holds out her palm. Rhody nods and reached into one of her pack''s outer pockets. She pulls out a small wooden box with "44 Magnum" inked on its lid, and hands it to Ablee. The pressure of the situation weighs on her¡ªnot just the imminent danger, but the presence of this strange girl whose name lingers ominously in Zeph¡¯s logbook. Ablee gives her a curt nod before stepping back toward the wall. ¡°Be ready to act quick, card girl,¡± Ablee says with a smirk. ¡°Your boss over there doesn¡¯t seem the patient type.¡± Without another word, she vanishes into the stone, leaving Rhody clutching her deck and trying to piece together what comes next.
Ablee strides back into Zeph''s chamber, her stone-coated form gleaming faintly in the flickering torchlight. She holds up the box, "If I hand these over, you promise not to shoot my Daddy..." Zeph''s face reddens, preparing to lambast this moron she''d trusted, but Ablee continues, "...until I''ve knocked his teeth out!" Chapter 5 - Storm Zeph¡¯s fingers flex around Applause. Her knuckles whiten and her glare sharpens. Her focus is locked on Ablee. ¡°Let me make one thing crystal clear: I don¡¯t pull my shots. Not for you, not for anyone. Your dad gets what he¡¯s got coming, teeth intact or not.¡± Ablee¡¯s arms fold across her chest, her stance defiant. The wooden box of ammunition nestles snugly in the crook of her arm. The sheen of her stone-coated skin catches the lantern-light, giving her an ethereal glow. ¡°Too bad, witch,¡± she says, her smirk widening. ¡°If you plan to ruin my turn with him, these stay with me. Guess you¡¯ll just have to wait.¡± Zeph snarls. ¡°This isn¡¯t a game of hop-scotch, kid. It¡¯s life or death. We probably won''t get the chance to take turns.¡± Ablee doesn¡¯t falter. Instead, she steps forward, her nose lifting to nearly brush Zeph¡¯s chin. ¡°If you think that way, you haven''t played enough hop-scotch! Cline knew if he skipped my turn he was going to catch a fist." The tension between them crackles like an overdrawn bowstring, both standing firm and unyielding. The shadows around the chamber flicker and dance, caught up in the heat of their standoff. Zeph opens her mouth, her sharp tongue poised to cut through Ablee¡¯s bravado, but the words are cut short by a deafening CRASH. The walls shake. The two spin toward the noise, their argument evaporating like steam from a fire. Zeph¡¯s eyes narrow, her grip on Applause tightening. Ablee¡¯s cocky demeanor wavers just slightly as she angles herself toward the sound. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± From beyond the stone wall, a voice breaks through the fading echoes of the crash¡ªpanicked, frantic, and unmistakably Rhody¡¯s. ¡°ZE¡ªPH!¡± Her shout is muffled, as if from the bottom of a deep well, but the fear in it cuts clear.
Inside Rhody¡¯s room, the air is weighted with a terrible presence. A towering figure steps into the flickering lantern-light. His massive shadow envelopes Rhody. His form is stone, just like the girl Ablee she''d met moments prior. Eyes burning with faint, otherworldly light, are fixed unerringly on the trembling acolyte. Rhody scrambles backward, clutching the red leather pouch of her Royal Tarot Deck. Its once-reassuring weight now a lifeline she doesn¡¯t know how to use. Her breath comes in shallow, rapid bursts, her mind fumbling to grasp a method of escape. He lurches forward, his stony hand sweeping through the air like a crusader''s flail. Rhody throws herself to the side, landing hard as the desk behind her explodes into splinters under the weight of his strike. She scrambles to her feet, heart hammering in her chest, and dashes toward the corner of the room. He pauses. His head, framed in thick braids, tilts slightly, almost mockingly, before he lunges again. Rhody ducks beneath his menacing arm, her ponytail whipping through the air as she dives. She crawls behind the upended remains of a table, overturning it with trembling hands in a desperate attempt at a barrier. He doesn¡¯t even slow, batting the broken furniture aside as if brushing away a bit of errant dust. His ogreish hand shoots forward and snags her by the leg, his grip unyielding as iron. Rhody lets out a strangled cry, her nails clawing uselessly against the stone floor. ¡°Zeph!¡± she screams again, her voice cracking with panic as he drags her across the room. Her free foot kicks wildly, her hands scrambling for purchase, but his strength is absolute. The corridor looms ahead, foreboding, as he pulls her toward it. The weight of Rhody and her pack don''t slow him at all.
Zeph¡¯s eyes snap wide at sound of Rhody''s cry. She turns on Ablee, her teeth bared. ¡°Give me the damn ammo!¡± Ablee, still clutching the box of bullets with infuriating nonchalance, raises an eyebrow. ¡°Gladly, just as soon as you make the DAMN promise!¡± Zeph doesn¡¯t waste another second. Her boot lashes out, catching Ablee square in the chest. The kick''s force sends Ablee hurtling backward. There''s no thud of flesh on stone. SCHLORP, the surface of the wall wavers, thick and fluid, like wet paint disturbed by a careless brushstroke. Ablee is enveloped in the thick fluid wall, her body swallowed whole. Tumbling into the hallway on the wall''s other side, she lands in a graceless heap. Her instincts flare, her stone-coated skin grinding the box of bullets against her chest. She looks around, dazed but unharmed. Her gaze catches on a familiar figure down the hall. Rinval, with his pole-arm propped at his side, turns his porcelain mask to meet her, eye to eye. Ablee climbs back to her feet, her gaze narrowing. "Yeah I''m out of my cell. What you gonna do about it old man?!¡± His porcelain mask tilts, the inked grin somehow smugger than before. ¡°Ah, the little painter''s slipped her restraints,¡± he says, his voice oozing disdain. ¡°I suppose I have time to give a lecture on obedience, while your daddy tends to the pest problem.¡± Her eyes dart past Rinval, her chest tightening as she spots her father at the far end of the hall. Rhody trails behind him, her head and shoulders drag the ground as he pulls her by the leg. Her small frame shudders as she claws at the stone floor. Ablee clenches her fists, ready to bolt after Karich, but Rinval steps to the corridor''s center, the wicked blade of his pole-arm swinging across its width like a drawn curtain. ¡°I have not dismissed you.¡± he says, his tone dripping menace. Ablee doesn¡¯t hesitate. She lunges, her fist arcing toward his head. Rinval pivots with infuriating grace, his cloak swirling as his pole-arm knocks her strike aside. She presses forward, weaving beneath his counterattack and striking at his midsection. The shaft of his weapon slams down on her knuckles, the sound of the impact reverberating like a thunderclap. ¡°Unlike a chain, a war-band is as good as it''s strongest link,¡± Rinval muses, his tone contemplative. ¡°Everyone else must fall in line to be dragged behind them.¡± His words weigh down upon her shoulders, condensing her to the naive, inquisitive girl she was years prior. She grits her teeth, fighting the urge to drink in her tutor''s insights. She rattles her head from side to side and launches into another barrage of blows, her fists relentless. Rinval¡¯s movements are slow, but compulsive. His polearm spins in a hypnotic dance, drawing her blows to futilely waste upon its length. ¡°On your father''s stage you''ll want for nothing.¡± Rinval says, his voice pressing against her defenses. ¡°If you''ll just play the role you''ve been given.¡± Ablee stumbles, her rhythm faltering. Her swings grow wilder, less precise, and Rinval exploits the opening, slamming the blunt end of his polearm into her ribs. She staggers back with a hiss, her breath leaving her in a sharp burst. ¡°I expected more,¡± Rinval drawls, positioning his weapon for an incapacitating strike at her head. ¡°Even Cline somehow surpassed you.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Before he can deliver the blow, a sharp, mocking laugh echoes through the hall. ¡°Oh, this is rich,¡± Zepharin¡¯s voice cuts in, dripping with amusement "It seems someone does know how to handle this brat!" Rinval¡¯s head snaps toward the sound as Zeph strides into the corridor, her golden hair catching the lantern-light. Blood stains her blouse, but her grin is sharper than the stolen blade in her hand. ¡°I''m still here,¡± she says, twirling the sword in a lazy arc. ¡°Sorry to disappoint.¡± ¡°Can you repeat that? These ears of mine have trouble with soft voices.¡± he says, his tone still mocking. Zeph scowls, "I know you heard me you son of a bitch!" She doesn¡¯t wait for him to respond. Her blade swings in an unrefined arc, and Rinval blocks it, letting out a soft yawn. As Rinval counters Zeph¡¯s strike, Ablee seizes the moment. Her eyes lock onto the gap in his guard, and with a surge of determination she vaults, cresting just over his weapon. Her body slips through his, exiting coated in the blue and gold of his cloak. Rolling across the ground behind him she stumbles. The world around her feels warped, wrong. She straightens, blinking hard as her ears ring. Her surroundings are overwhelmingly silent. The chaotic echoes of his clash with Zeph seem distant, muffled. Panic lances through her chest as she slaps her hand against the side of her head. ¡°What the hell!?¡± she mutters, the words loud in her own mind but disturbingly hollow in her ears. Behind her, Zeph¡¯s voice cuts through the muted din, sharp and furious, but the warbling words hold no meaning for Ablee. She turns, catching Zeph¡¯s blood-streaked figure gesturing wildly, her mouth moving with what must be a reprimand¡ªor a threat. Ablee squints, trying to read her lips, but the effort is futile. She forces a lopsided grin and gives an exaggerated thumbs-up. ¡°Thanks for the assist!¡± she shouts, though her voice feels distorted, warped by the quiet in her head. Zeph¡¯s eyes narrow. Her mouth moves faster now, her gestures sharper. Whatever she¡¯s saying, it isn¡¯t pleasant. Ablee decides she doesn¡¯t have time to linger. The outline of her father''s hulking form stains her vision, growing smaller with every passing second. Clutching the box of bullets tightly to her chest, Ablee shoots Zeph a cheeky wave and takes off down the corridor, her bare feet slapping the stone. Behind her, Zeph¡¯s frustration crescendos into what can only be a scream, but Ablee barely registers it. She swerves sharply, passing through a section of wall into an adjoining passage. The maneuver jars her senses further, and for a terrifying moment, her equilibrium tilts. She lands braced against the opposite wall, panting, her painted fingers scraping faint lines into the stone. ¡°Damn it,¡± she growls, shaking her head, hoping the motion will clear the haze. Somewhere ahead, Rhody¡¯s muffled cries break through the silence like faint ripples on a still pond. Ablee pushes off the wall and charges forward, deaf to the chaos she leaves in her wake.
Ablee hurtles through the keep. Her wild, uncoordinated movements are punctuated by the thuds of her shoulders against wall after wall. The power of her Painter''s Ambrosia flares instinctively as she takes a hastily made short-cut. She misjudges her exit, stumbling out at a bizarre angle and landing with a muffled curse that feels distant in her head. ¡°Damn it!¡± she growls, scrambling to her feet. She squints down the hall, trying to orient herself. The distorted echoes of her own voice bounce off the stone walls, making her flinch. ¡°Where did you go?¡± she mutters, steadying herself with a palm against cold stone. Behind her, Zeph wheels around a corner, her golden hair trailing like a banner. She slows just long enough to catch her breath. ¡°You are the worst runaway I¡¯ve ever chased!¡± she calls, her tone exasperated. The words bounce uselessly off Ablee¡¯s dulled senses. Ablee turns, catching sight of Zeph¡¯s sharp expression, and scowls. ¡°You''re not getting these bullets, not til I''m done!¡± Zeph throws her hands up, baffled. ¡°Do you even hear yourself?¡± Ablee hears nothing, of course. She flips Zeph an irritated wave and takes off again, her form vanishing into the next wall. Zeph groans, the sharp pain returns to her shoulder and she feels a wet warmth pooling down her chest. She forces her a foot forward, then another, resuming the chase. This is a disaster, Zeph thinks, shaking her head. But a grin sneaks its way onto her lips, Damn if it''s not entertaining though. Farther back, Rinval struts through the halls. His composed movements relay little concern. "Can''t believe they slipped past me," he muses, ¡°This brings back fond memories, corralling those kids through these halls.¡± Ablee¡¯s eye catches on a glimmering object lying ahead of her. Without slowing her sprint, she bends sideways and scoops it up. A midnight blue card dotted with golden stars. "That girl." She huffs, and surges forward, keeping her eyes peeled for any more along her path. Exiting another barrier of liquid stone, she finds herself looking down an uneven stairwell. "Since when was this here!?" She shouts, tumbling down the steps and landing with a graceless thud. The bullet box flies from her grip, skidding ahead and hitting the base of the stairs with a resounding clatter. She slams her fists against the ground before picking herself up. Her ears ring faintly as she jogs down the hall to reclaim her bargaining chip. Zeph eyes her from the top of the staircase, her boots skidding to a stop at their edge. ¡°You drop those bullets one more time!¡± she warns, her voice livid, ¡°I swear I''ll¡ª¡± Ablee turns to glare at the intrusive, garbled sound. ¡°What!?" Zeph blinks at the girl. ¡°You¡ªwait, can you not¡ª¡± she begins, but Ablee turns and bolts again, clearly uninterested in whatever Zeph has to say. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me,¡± Zeph hisses, her temper bubbling. She takes off after Ablee once more, her hand brushing the revolver at her side. ¡°This better end with bullets in my gun and Karich dead... Or I¡¯m tossing her off the nearest parapet.¡± Rinval strides after them into the stairwell, his pole-arm clanging against the banister as he gingerly descends them. ¡°The dungeon huh,¡± he mutters, "What have you got planned Karich?" Ahead, Ablee pauses at a fork in the hallway, her hands on her knees as she pants. Her sense of direction is warped, and the muffled sounds around her seem to bounce erratically. Bending down to pick up another card, she catches sight of Zeph, upside down between her legs. ¡°Later, witch Lady!¡± Ablee shouts, before passing through another wall. ¡°Stop doing that!¡± Zeph yells, barreling down the hall after her.
The chaotic trail of noise and destruction funnels them all toward Ablee¡¯s cell, its smeared chalk murals glowing faintly in The Tower''s light. Inside, Karich towers over Rhody, his massive stone heel planted firmly on her head, grinding it into the cold floor. Her breaths come in ragged bursts, her face pale with terror. Pin-Beard eyes Karich from the wall, he shouts ¡°Give it a rest ya over-grown dog-fish!¡± He punctuates his insult with a crude gesture. Ablee stumbles into the room, her stone-coated foot-steps clacking against its floor. Her hearing, dulled to a frustrating muffle, makes the scene feel distant, almost dreamlike. Her eyes lock onto Karich''s back. Something about him seems off, but it''s hard to tell what in her addled state. Trailing down the length of his fur-cape, her gaze lands on Rhody¡¯s trembling frame. Suddenly, her mind is yanked fifteen feet forward and three years back. She''s lying in Rhody''s position, Karich''s boot digging into her temple. Her eyes slam shut, as tight as they can, and the ringing in her ears grows to a cacophony. "Stop...Stop!...STOP!" She fights her every inclination and forces her eyes back open, squinting tightly. She takes in the scene, her eye-lashes filtering its harshness, rendering it more slight bearable, by just the smallest amount. Ablee steps closer, her fists clenched. ¡°Why are you doing this!?¡± she demands, her voice raw with frustration. The sound rings strangely in her own head, amplified by the silence that surrounds her. ¡°Why are you doing this, to her!?¡± Her shout feels swallowed by the space, leaving her words hollow and weightless. She sees some movement across her father''s back, and can feel movement in the air, but her ears register no sound. A sudden, feral gust surges into the room, swirling about it with vengeance. Cline''s drawings, Pin-Beard, Talia, all of her friends, cry out, shouting and screaming, as bit by bit, line by line, their forms are ripped from the walls. Ablee''s eyes twitch from side to side, seeing, but unable to hear, their pleas. The storm swirls as vibrant as a rainbow. In quickening circles, layer after layer is peeled away. The wind drags across her, particles of chalk pelting against her stony skin. ¡°No! Stop!¡± she shouts, her ears drowned by the storm¡¯s furious roar. The cyclone churns, its presence suffocating and undeniable. As Ablee struggles to maintain her senses, Zeph crashes into her back like a battering ram, the force of the collision sending them both sprawling across the floor. The box of bullets clatters away, spinning into the vortex. ¡°What the hell?!¡± Ablee snarls. She struggles to push herself upright, but the wind presses her down, its weight almost physical. Zeph groans, clutching her revolver as she rolls onto her knees. ¡°What is¡ª¡± her voice cuts off as her gaze locks on Karich, his head has turned, his glowing eyes are fixed on them with cold, unfeeling precision. The storm intensifies, a frenzy of chalky debris whipping through the air. Ablee¡¯s heart pounds as she lifts her head, the wind clawing at her hair and clothes. ¡°Zeph¡­¡± she begins, her voice thin and strained, but her words are swallowed whole by the roaring tempest. The wind surges around Karich, and the cell itself seems to shrink under the weight of its presence. Ablee and Zeph brace themselves as the storm howls louder. Chapter 6 - Abandoned Rhody¡¯s scream splits the air, raw and piercing. Her fingernails scrape, futile against the floor as Karich''s massive stone heel grinds against her head. She twists and writhes, feeling like an acorn beneath a cart''s wheel. ¡°Stop damn-it!¡± Ablee bellows, her voice hoarse and desperate. It feels as if she¡¯s screaming into a void. The wind howls around her, battering her body with erratic gusts. Her ears pop from the storms'' intense pressure, the last of Rinval''s paint ripping from her ears. She freezes, disoriented as sounds of the world rush back to her¡ªshouting, wind, and the muffled, haunting voices of the cell''s chalky community crying out from the vortex. She stumbles forward, pressing her hands to her temples, overwhelmed by the onslaught. Zeph spots the wooden box of ammunition tumbling across the cell''s floor. Her hair flags behind her as she lunges after it. The sudden movement causes her shoulder to spasm, and her balance wavers. Blood leaks through the fabric of her blouse, leaving a trail of crimson dots along the ground. She stretches out a trembling hand, trying to snatch up the box. ¡°Damn it, stay still!¡± She growls as it''s wrenched away by another gust. Ablee braces against the wind, moving toward Karich. Her painted fists clench tightly at her sides. ¡°HEY! Let her go!¡± she shouts, her voice splitting the cacophony. Karich''s head tilts at her command. His hollowed eyes cast an eerie light across the chamber as it responds in a dull monotone, "This is a family matter, assassin." Ablee¡¯s heart skips. ¡°What the hell...¡± she mutters, taking in Karich''s unnatural, jerky movements. The realization strikes her like a physical blow. ¡°What are you!? Where''s my dad!? Where''s Cline!?¡± The fake Karich doesn''t react, its stone heel pressing harder against Rhody¡¯s head, eliciting another scream. ¡°ZEPH!¡± Rhody chokes out, her voice a desperate plea. Ablee takes another step forward, but a new voice interrupts her. ¡°Ahh, you made it back to your cell, just when I''d lost hope of you ever following instruction,¡± Rinval drawls, his figure framed in the doorway. He braces himself on his pole-arm, its length held horizontal against the portal. Ablee¡¯s glare snaps to him. ¡°Oh NOW you show up?!¡± she spits, her voice a venomous snarl, "Five years of silence, and TODAY you decide to pay me a visit!" Rinval¡¯s presence seeps into the room, heavy and oppressive. His words drip with disdain, each syllable sinking like a weight into Ablee¡¯s chest. ¡°Five years. If you''d taken my lessons to heed, you could have freed yourself a long, long time ago.¡± His pole-arm scrapes against the stone as he steps forward, his fog-like aura rolling across the room. Ablee¡¯s fists tremble, but her defiance remains. ¡°Where is he?!¡± she demands, her voice cracking with fury. ¡°Where¡¯s the real Karich? And where is Cline?!¡± Rinval laughs¡ªa low, condescending chuckle. ¡°Oh Ablee, how long did you think they''d stay?¡± He pauses, his painted mask tilting in mock thought. ¡°Karich? Cline? They¡¯re long gone. Left years ago. They''re climbing The Tower. How could you not guess?¡± Ablee¡¯s breath catches, her nails digging into her palms. ¡°You¡¯re lying!¡± she shouts, stepping toward Rinval. The wind whips around her, her painted form streaked with debris. "They need me," her eyes spin across her cell. "This was all to pull me in line!" ¡°They need you?¡± Rinval replies smoothly. ¡°Do you really think they¡¯d wait this long, for the impudent runt to come to her senses?" Ablee¡¯s teeth grind. Her voice rises higher. ¡°They wouldn''t just leave me here to rot, for no reason! If you think I¡¯m just gonna stand here while you spout this crap¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯ll do exactly that,¡± Rinval cuts her off, his tone razor-sharp. ¡°Because you¡¯ve already lost. Look around you.¡± He gestures grandly with his pole-arm. ¡°Your only hope of escape, a helpless acolyte and a gunslinger, bleeding out. Their presence here''s a mere coincidence.¡± Rhody gasps beneath Karich''s heel, clawing weakly at his leg. ¡°Zeph¡­¡± she rasps, her voice barely audible. The crushing weight on her head sends sharp spikes of pain radiating through her body. Ablee¡¯s focus snaps back to her fake father. ¡°You,¡± she growls. ¡°Tell me the truth! Where are they really?!¡± His stone mouth moves again, but its words are drowned out by the storm. Frustration claws at Ablee as she steps closer. ¡°Speak up!¡± Karich hesitates, his jerky movements faltering as his gaze shifts between Ablee and Rhody. Confusion stains his chiseled face. Rinval observes the exchange with amusement, his voice cutting through the tension. ¡°Oh, this is rich. It thinks the acolyte is you!¡± He points his pole-arm at Rhody, his tone dripping with mockery. ¡°Ablee is the redhead, you idiot.¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Karich pauses, trying to process the information. ¡°I can''t see¡­ color,¡± it drones, its voice hollow. ¡°Fine then, just crush the one beneath your foot!¡± Rinval barks, his patience snapping. Karich''s movements grow more erratic, his confusion deepening. He leans onto Rhody¡¯s head, and she lets out a strangled cry.
Rhody''s eyes loose teary lines, the sounds of her ragged breath and thundering heart-beat filling her head, THUMP THUMP THUMP.. THUMP... THUMP..... THUMP....... The torrent of dusty chalk particles slows to a crawl before her eyes. The warlord''s daughter, the unstoppable bouncing ball of motion, stands frozen in place. I''m going to die...I have to do something! Rhody shouts internally. She struggles to think, to come up with any sort of worth-while plan. It... It thinks I''m its daughter...I can use that...No that''s stupid, something else, there''s got to be something else! Nothing comes to mind. She frantically scans the still-life scene in front of her, looking for anything that might prove useful. Her gaze settles on a card, one she''d used as a bread-crumb for Zeph to follow, tucked in the pocket of Ablee''s overalls. Only the top third is visible, but she recognizes it. A hand descending from clouds, holding a sprouting wand. The Ace of Wands. It''s message is clear. Just go for it, take a chance. She reaches back a trembling hand, wrapping her fingers through her ink-blue ponytail. The world speeds up as she yanks and drags it roughly along the jagged edge of the Karich''s stone boot. Its strands fray and splaying out in a rough imitation of Ablee''s wild mane. With a burst of courage, she shouts, trying to mimic Ablee¡¯s voice: ¡°Fine Dad! I give up! I¡¯ll do what you want¡ªjust let me up!¡± Ablee¡¯s jaw drops in disbelief. ¡°Are you kidding me?!¡± she yells, her voice dripping with outrage. Rinval¡¯s sharp voice cuts through the room, admonishing Karich, "Figure it out, you damn puppet!". Karich hesitates. His foot lifts ever so slightly, and the weight on her head eases. His glowing eyes flicker as he tries to process the surrounding chaos. Rhody squeezes her eyes shut, her heart pounding. Just keep going. Sell it. Convince it. ¡°I¡¯ll be a good daughter!¡± she cries, her voice trembling with faux sincerity. ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever you order¡ªjust don¡¯t hurt me!" Karich pauses again, his confusion deepening. Ablee, meanwhile, looks like she¡¯s about to explode. ¡°Good daughter?! He''ll never go for that load of crap!¡± she barks, taking a step toward Rhody. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Rinval shrieks at Karich, stepping forward in outrage, his pole-arm scraping against the stone floor. ¡°That¡¯s not her, you idiot! The real Ablee is right¡ª¡± BANG! A bullet whistles through the storm, striking true against Rinval¡¯s porcelain mask and shattering it into jagged shards. Rinval stumbles back with a cry of shock, his free hand flying to his face. Zeph is on her knees, one hand braces against the floor, the other holds out Applause. Her golden locks are plastered across her face''s furious expression. ¡°You talk too much,¡± she snarls. Rinval staggers, his composure shattered. He glances between Zeph and Ablee, his fingers tightening on his pole-arm. For a split second, he looks ready to lunge¡ªbut then he snarls and ducks out of the doorway. Ablee points an accusing finger at Rhody. ¡°I would never¡ª¡± Zeph levels Applause at Ablee. ¡°Shut up and let her work, or you''re next,¡± she snaps. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you just¡ª¡± Ablee begins, only to be cut off again by Rhody¡¯s trembling voice. ¡°I¡¯ll help you, okay?¡± Rhody pleads to Karich, her words thick with feigned submission. ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever you need, just let me prove I can be useful.¡± Karich tilts his head, his hollow eyes flickering faintly as if trying to process her words. Rhody pushes herself further, her voice wavering in a perfect in fear. ¡°Please Dad! I want to help. Just¡­ give me the chance.¡± ¡°What is wrong with you?!¡± Ablee snaps, her tone equal parts disbelief and fury. ¡°That¡¯s not me! I don¡¯t grovel, and I sure as hell don¡¯t¡ª" Zeph crashes into her from the side, tackling her to the ground with the force of a thunderbolt. ¡°Enough!¡± Zeph growls, wrestling to pin Ablee down, ¡°Do you want to get us all killed?!" ¡°Get off me, witch!¡± Ablee roars, writhing beneath Zeph¡¯s weight. Ablee''s hands slap against the floor, her voice rising above the storm. ¡°She''s ruining my reputation!¡± Rhody doesn¡¯t waste the distraction. While Karich''s attention flickers between the bickering pair, she slides one of Ablee¡¯s discarded chain restraints across the floor. Her movements are quick but deliberate, her fingers working deftly to knot the chain around Karich''s massive stone ankle. Rhody shouts, ¡°Now''s our chance Dad! The assassins are distracted, let me at ''em!¡± Beads of sweat roll down her temples. She glances up, her heart hammering as Karich begins to move. His hulking foot rises slowly, its chain scraping pulling taut with a metallic whine. Rhody pulls her head free and scrambles away, rushing to escape his reach. Rinval peeks his head around the doorway and shouts, "You let the girl go?!" Karich spins, realization marking his face. He rushes after Rhody, and the chain tightens around his leg. His momentum works against him, and the massive stone figure lurches awkwardly. The ground shudders as he topples forward, the chain snapping with a final, tortured groan. Karich crashes onto the floor, tossing chunks of stone into the air like shrapnel. Zeph and Ablee freeze mid-scuffle, both momentarily stunned by the sight. Ablee is the first to recover. ¡°Nice work, card girl,¡± she mutters. Then, in one fluid motion, she phases through Zeph''s body, her body coated in black liquid as she emerges. Zeph gasps, momentarily disoriented. Ablee runs her hands through her hair, streaking them with the remaining traces of iron paint from her earlier escape. Her grin sharpens into something feral and wild, her posture exuding a newfound swagger. ¡°Oh yeah,¡± Ablee says, her voice taking on a brash, Zeph-like edge. ¡°This feels good.¡± ¡°What the¡ª¡± Zeph starts, but Ablee¡¯s already moving. She takes off at a dead sprint, her laughter cutting through the chaos like a blade. Ablee leaps onto the Karich''s back, her legs locking around his thick stone neck. ¡°Alright, big guy,¡± she growls, her voice dripping with confidence. ¡°Lets see what you''ve got!¡± Her fists, now coated in shimmering iron, slam into Karich¡¯s head with brutal precision. The collisions are relentless, a pounding rhythm that blends with the surrounding storm. Karich roars, the sound''s vibrations shaking the air. His massive arms reach up, trying to grab Ablee and pry her off, but she clings tighter, ducking and twisting to avoid their grasp. ¡°Now tell me. Where are the real Karich and Cline?!¡± Ablee shouts, her strikes growing fiercer. Chips of stone fly with each impact. Zeph watches for a beat, then shakes her head, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. ¡°She¡¯s completely insane,¡± she mutters, before raising Applause and stepping toward the fight. Chapter 7 - Ricochet "Haha!", Ablee yells. The fake Karich throws up a massive hand, grasping for her. Clinging tightly to his neck, she twists her body, letting out a raucous howl as she avoids his grasp. ¡°Not today bastard!¡± Zeph¡¯s voice cuts through the din. BANG, Applause barks, and a bullet slams into Karich''s knuckles. Stone splinters fly as he swings his arm wildly, howling. "Thanks witch!¡± Ablee yells, her voice electric. She doesn¡¯t spare a glance behind her, too intent on battering the head of her father''s stone facsimile. The storm intensifies, whipping furiously through the commotion. It batters against Karich, his body becoming a canvas for the rainbow of chalky colors the villagers left behind. Vibrant streaks of red, gold, and blue coat its surface. Zeph, breathing heavily, reloads Applause. Thowing a quick glance towards the door, she catches sight of Rinval, the collar of his cloak pulled tight across the lower half of his face. He meets her gaze and the room shrinks, tightening around the chest wound that slowly gluts out her resolve. ¡°Huhah,¡± he chuckles, his tone as grating as sandpaper. ¡°Whats the matter, coming to terms with your mortality?¡± Zeph grits her teeth, trying to steady herself. The pull of his influence gnaws at her focus, clouding her thoughts and making every glance in his direction feel like staring into the sun. Her shoulder''s incision burns with every breath, her body screaming for respite. ¡°You¡¯re lucky I can¡¯t see straight,¡± she growls, taking to her feet and stumbling in his direction, her gaze on the floor. She throws a wild swing with Applause''s butt, which he sidesteps easily, his laughter cutting like a knife. Rhody skirts the cell to avoid Karich''s erratic movements. With some distance established, she drops her pack to the ground with a thud. Rummaging through it her movements are purposeful but frantic. She pulls out a bulky clothes-iron, its wooden handle well worn from maintaining Zeph''s immaculate appearance. She grips the iron tightly, her small frame taut with determination. Keeping to the chamber''s edge, she creeps toward Rinval. Her breath hitches as she rounds his flank. Zeph notices her approach out of the corner of her eye. She glares at the girl, her expression begging the question, ¡°What the hell are you going to do with that?¡± She pushes herself to maintain her assault, and Rinval''s attention. Rhody bends her knees and pops up into the air, raising the iron high and bringing it down toward Rinval¡¯s back. He twists at the last moment, the blow grazing his arm but doing little of substance. ¡°Amateurs,¡± Rinval sneers, spinning his polearm in a wide arc to keep both of them at bay, "Your employers must really hate you, sending you on such an ill-conceived errand." Zeph is forced to step back, her grip tightening on Applause. ¡°I can¡¯t get a bead on him!¡± Zeph snarls, frustration boiling over. ¡°Looking at him is like¡ª¡± Rinval takes a step forward, his presence overwhelming, his voice smooth and relentless. ¡°Like fighting a rip-tide.¡±
Ablee clings to Karic as he thrashes wildly. Her iron-coated fists pound against his head, cracks spider-webbing outward with each strike. She grins through gritted teeth, the force of each blow reverberating up her arms. ¡°Go ahead!¡± she taunts. ¡°Try and smash me! I dare you!¡± Karich obliges, slamming its back¡ªand Ablee along with it¡ªinto the nearest wall. The stone ripples, and Ablee''s body submerges into it. As he leans back forward, she''s unscathed, still perched and ready for another assault. Karich roars, his rage vibrating through the air. He swings his arm back again, his hand narrowly missing as Ablee ducks low and delivers another punishing strike to its fractured head. ¡°Come on now you poor excuse for a Dad!¡± Ablee shouts, her voice ringing with exhilaration. ¡°You¡¯re barely making me work!¡± The storm still swirls in chaotic bursts, its chalky wind pummeling the Karich''s form. Vibrant colors seep deeper into his cracks.
Zeph sidesteps a swing from Rinval¡¯s polearm, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Rhody darts in again, swinging the iron with surprising force for someone her size. This time, it connects with Rinval¡¯s wrist, eliciting a hiss of annoyance as his grip momentarily falters.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Nice work Rhody!¡± Zeph calls, ¡°Keep at it!" Rinval''s pole-arm swings in a wide arc and Rhody pulls back just in time to avoid it. ¡°You''re supposed to be fighting these guys!¡± she shoots back at Zeph. Zeph raises Applause, but the swirling disorientation brought on by Rinval¡¯s presence throws her aim. BANG! Zeph mutters a curse under her breath as the shot goes wide. Ablee, meanwhile, rides out another of Karich''s violent thrashes. Her relentless assault does not slow. Each strike against his head lands with an audible crunch, the fractures in his surface growing wider, more jagged. ¡°Time to crack this egg!¡± Ablee shouts, laughter bubbling out between her words. She feels his movements slowing, turning desperate. His strength wanes under the combined assault of the storm and her iron fists. ¡°Zeph!¡± Rhody calls out, sharp and urgent. She has her iron raised defensively as Rinval cleaves strike after strike in her direction. ¡°Help!?¡± The chaos around Rhody begins to feel distant and slowed, like the world has been submerged in thick syrup. Her breath steadies as the storm of movement congeals into a tableau of possibility. She realizes, this sensation¡ª she was too frightened to recognize it earlier. Clarity, the gift of an Ace of Wands. I''m on a path! she squeals internally. She feels it thrumming within her, igniting her senses and sharpening her focus. The frantic energy of just moments before seeps out of her pores, replaced with a dutiful calm. She knows what she has to do: get Zeph a clean shot at Rinval. Her eyes dart across the room, cataloging every angle, every surface. Zeph circles him warily, her revolver in hand but her stance faltering. Rhody sees it¡ªthe subtle tilt of Zeph¡¯s frame, the way her shoulders sway with each shallow breath. Zeph is barely holding on. Rhody clenches her jaw, her fingers tightening around the iron in her hand. The stone walls of the room loom around her, their unyielding surfaces mocking her desperate calculations. A straight shot at Rinval is impossible; Zeph¡¯s hesitation and Rinval¡¯s deft movements won''t let it happen. A missed bullet could ricochet and strike Ablee, Zeph, or herself. But a controlled ricochet... Her gaze falls to the iron in her hand, its scuffed surface reflecting the flickering torchlight. The realization strikes her with the force of a thunderclap. She can make this work. Rhody takes a deep breath and shifts her weight, stepping back to position herself. She angles the iron carefully, its face tilted to catch the bullet just right. Her pulse pounds in her ears, but her grip remains steady. She glances up at Zeph. ¡°Zeph!¡± she shouts, her voice cutting through the din. Time stretches as Zeph¡¯s head snaps toward her, her golden hair haloing across her face. Rhody doesn¡¯t waste a second, raising the iron slightly and then shifting her gaze from it to Rinval. Her meaning is clear: Here. Shoot here. Zeph¡¯s brow furrows, the weight of Rhody¡¯s plan crashing into her like a blow. ¡°Rhody, no,¡± she growls, shaking her head as if to dispel the idea. Her grip on Applause tightens, but she doesn¡¯t raise it. ¡°You¡¯re in the line of fire!¡± ¡°Trust me!¡± Rhody snaps, her voice firm, louder than she¡¯s ever known it to be. ¡°You can do this!¡± Zeph hesitates, her instincts warring with her exhaustion. Her aim hasn¡¯t been steady since the fight began. Rinval paces lazily toward her, his pole-arm poised like a tailor''s needle. His every step radiates oppressive weight. ¡°If I miss...¡± Zeph growls, her voice barely audible over the storm. Rhody''s eyes lock onto Zeph''s like a flare through the haze of Rinval''s presence. ¡°You''re Zeph, you don¡¯t miss!¡± Zeph¡¯s expression shifts, her lips pressing into a tight line. She exhales sharply, her resolve hardening. ¡°Hold tight!¡± she shouts, raising Applause. Her finger curls around the trigger, and for a brief moment, the world is completely silent. BANG! The bullet tears from the revolver, a streak of silver against the tumultuous backdrop of the room. It pounds the iron in Rhody''s hands, sending shock-waves through her body that make her teeth ache. The collision rings out like a bell, and the bullet ricochets cleanly, flying toward its true target. The shot blows through his hand with a sickening crack, shattering bone. His pole-arm clangs against the floor and he howls in pain, his voice raw and venomous. Zeph doesn¡¯t wait. She surges forward, her exhaustion forgotten in a rush of adrenaline. Applause shifts in her grip, and as Rinval clutches his wounded hand, she brings the butt of the revolver down hard on his head. The impact is sharp, brutal, and final. Rinval collapses to the ground in an awkward heap. The sudden absence of Rinval''s spiritual pressure is exhilarating. Zeph feels like she''s just clawed her way through six feet of dirt to take a breath of fresh air. She lowers Applause, her shoulders heaving. The girl Ablee hollers wildly from the other side of the room, clearly ecstatic to be punishing her father''s imitator. ¡°They taught you that shit at the temple?¡± Zeph asks Rhody, her tone laced with respect. Rhody exhales shakily, the weight of the moment crashing over her now that her new-found clarity has past. She forces a wavering grin. ¡°No, that''s why I''m here.¡± Zeph''s eyes flick to Rinval¡¯s unconscious form before settling on Ablee and Karich. ¡°I guess we should help the brat...¡± Rhody nods, the iron still clutched tightly in her hand. Her body aches, her nerves are frayed, but she feels a flicker of pride. I did it.
Karich staggers, his towering frame cracking under the relentless assault. His fractured surface spills powdery chalk-dust with every lumbering step. Ablee, perched precariously on his back. the vibrations crawling up her stony arms like spiderwebs of tension. She grits her teeth, hammering blow after blow onto his crumbling head, her legs locked tightly around its neck. Karich roars¡ªa hollow, grinding sound¡ªand suddenly lurches toward the windowed wall. His glowing eyes fix on the jagged cliff-side beyond as it gathers the last of its waning strength. Ablee glances up, her smirk faltering as she realizes its intention. "Oh, no you don''t!" she growls, pulling back her fist for another strike. Before she can think to pull herself free, he charges forward, his massive weight breaking through the keep''s outer wall. A shower of stone and dust surround them as they plummet. Chapter 8 - Falling The earth rises to meet Ablee like a fist. A deafening CRACK splits the mountainside as the fake Karich¡¯s massive frame crashes down, shattering stone and sending a shock-wave rippling through the ground. Ablee''s lungs collapse as she breaks the surface of dirt turned paint, plummeting into it. The suffocating pressure becomes unbearable as she sinks deeper. She wrenches her body and twists, spinning into an abyss of thick, syrupy black. She has no breath to scream, lost in oppressive silence. The liquid soil presses in from all sides, clinging to her skin, filling her nose and ears. Ablee thrashes, clawing at the formless expanse, her limbs flailing in search of something solid. There is nothing, just the endless swirl of dark liquid, a cage of her own making, suffocating her. Move. MOVE! Her mind screams the command, but her body feels leaden, her lungs screaming for air. Panic churns in her gut. But then¡ªfaint, distorted, and distant¡ªa voice cuts through the void. ¡°Ey lass, ye'' down there!?¡± It¡¯s Pin-Beard¡¯s unmistakable holler, warped and garbled as if spoken into a can on the other end of a string. Her panic loses some grip, wrestled away by the familiar sound. Her chest heaves with the effort to stay calm, to listen. The voice grows louder, more insistent. ¡°GET YERSELF UP HERE, GIRL!¡± A flicker of determination reignites in her chest. Ablee reorients her body, kicking her legs, and pushes through the viscous soup. Her hands claw forward, finding no purchase, but refusing to quit. The sound of Pin-Beard¡¯s coaxing voice grows sharper in the distance. Then¡ªcontact. Her fingers brush against something solid, cold and unyielding. She strains, digging her nails into the surface. Her muscles scream in protest, her lungs burn, as she forces her way upward. The blackness pulls at her, trying to drag her back, but she howls through gritted teeth. She feels the vice-like fingers of two hands enclose around her exposed wrist, and then yank. She''s dragged from the ground. As her head bursts through the surface she gulps up the sharp, pine-scented air of the mountains. Coughing violently, her chest heaves as she''s pulled up, inch by inch. The surreal colors of the breaking dawn flicker across her vision, and she recognizes the flowing blonde hair of the assassin. Behind Zeph, a rope twirls in the wind, anchored in the gaping wall of the keep up above. The other girl, Rhody, watches from the newly demolished balcony, her chest heaving, "How about some warning... the next time you jump out of a building Zeph!? That''s gotta be at least... a four story drop!" Ablee collapses, brown paint dripping from her trembling hands. A sharp laugh escapes her, bitter and triumphant. Karich''s wreckage groans under its own weight, a jagged mess of broken chalk-stained stone. Ablee pushes up to a seated position, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. Her ribs protest each movement, but her eyes stay locked to a large chunk of debris. Half of Pin-Beard¡¯s chalky figure is illustrated along its side, cut at the waist by a jagged break in the stone. Depicted upside-down, his head is buried beneath the earth''s surface "Well this sure isn''t ideal," he chuckles. ¡°Hang on you old barnacle,¡± Ablee mutters, crawling her way over to him. Pulling herself up to a squat, she grabs hold of the uneven edges of hunk of rubble. The jagged stone digs into her palms, but she doesn¡¯t flinch. Leaning into it, her muscles tremble and she wedges her shoulder beneath its immense weight. ¡°C¡¯mon¡­¡± she growls, her voice raw with effort. The stone shifts a fraction of an inch, groaning like a grizzly rising from hibernation. Her knees buckle, but she digs her heels in, summoning every ounce of strength she has left. Her breath hisses through gritted teeth, "Gimme a hand, witch!" Ablee receives no response. "Fine then..." She powers forward, and shoves with a final, primal roar. The mass rises and crashes to its side, sending up a cloud of rainbow-colored chalk dust. Pin-Beard¡¯s dirt-smeared face lets out a guffawing laugh. He adjusts his tricorn hat with exaggerated dignity ¡°That¡¯s an ounce or two better, thank ya girl!¡± Ablee collapses to her knees, ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± she snaps back, wiping a streak of dripping paint from her brow. Pin-Beard raises his mug her, his grin as wide as his cartoonish face can allow. ¡°Aye! Never doubted ya for a second!¡± Before Ablee can retort, the air shifts. The living wind howls, curling around them like a hunting predator. The voices of the chalk villagers, trapped within its whirling form, rise in a dissonant chorus. Pin-Beard looks up, his grin turning wistful. ¡°Well now. Guess my ship¡¯s leaving port!¡± ¡°What?¡± Ablee asks, her chin dropping, ¡°Where are you all going?¡± The wind catches against his chalky form, swirling him into its spectral embrace. He rises with the storm, his tricorn hat barely holding to his head. ¡°Wherever the wind takes us, lass! That¡¯s the pirate way!¡± he hollers, his voice echoing as he¡¯s carried upward. ¡°You got us out of that brig, dear girl! Give Cline our best, and your father your worst!¡± Ablee stares into the onslaught of color, the storm growing more brilliant with each passing second. As Pin-Beard ascends, the inevitable happens¡ªhis hat catches in the wind, whipping away and dissipating in a jaunty spiral. ¡°Wait¡ªblasted thing!¡± he yells, flailing in mid-air to grab it. His form smears into a trail of black and red dust. The ridiculous scramble draws a snort of laughter from Ablee, her chest heaving as she watches him vanish into the whirlwind.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The storm rises higher and higher, the voices of the villagers retreating with it. Completing a final figure-eight, it whisks away, Tower-ward. Ablee sits back, paint-streaked and aching, a crooked grin tugging at her lips. ¡°What a clown.¡± She pulls herself upright, leaning against Karich¡¯s broken remains. Wiping her face with the back of her hand she lets out a sharp, bitter laugh. A sound cuts through the quiet¡ªthe scraping of rope against stone. Ablee¡¯s smile falters as her head tilts toward the noise. The taut line quivers as a figure descends it in frantic slides. Rhody, the younger one with the keen eyes and nervous hands, her red pouch bouncing against her chest. Ablee¡¯s brow arches. ¡°She doesn¡¯t waste any time,¡± she mutters. Rhody clatters into gravel at the keep¡¯s base with a graceless thud, immediately stumbling over to Zeph. The assassin lies in the rubble nearby, her flat-brimmed hat thrown aside. Her breathing is shallow, and blood pools at her side. ¡°Zeph!¡± Rhody''s frantic voice calls out as drops to her knees beside the woman. She shakes the Zeph''s shoulder, but she only groans, her her eyes fluttering. Rhody''s gasps, ¡°Oh gods. That''s so much blood. Not good¡ªnot good.¡± Ablee ambles closer. ¡°Yeah, Rinval stung her pretty bad¡­¡± Rhody¡¯s head snaps up, her face flushed with anger and panic. ¡°You! She pushed herself this far to save you! Fix her like you did before!¡± ¡°Save me?" Ablee runs a hand through her hair, "I had already reached the surface¡­¡± Rhody¡¯s voice catches as Zeph¡¯s hand weakly rises, catching her wrist. ¡°Stop¡­ bickering,¡± Zeph mutters, her voice thin but edged with steel. She lifts her head just enough to pin Ablee with a glare. ¡°You¡­ You¡¯re my captive...¡± Ablee crouches down, her grin sharp. ¡°Oh yeah? Just let me know when you¡¯re ready to slap the cuffs on. Oh, wait.¡± She taps her wrist mockingly. ¡°You¡¯d need to actually stand for that.¡± ¡°Enough!¡± Rhody snaps, surprising even herself. ¡°If you¡¯re going to mock her, then at least do your little trick to stop the bleeding!¡± Ablee¡¯s expression softens, just slightly. Brushing the painted dirt from her hands, she leans over Zeph. ¡°Fine. But you¡¯ll need to tend her wound when I¡¯m done. My stuff doesn¡¯t last long.¡± Ablee undoes the top two buttons of Zeph¡¯s black blouse and peels its fabric away from her shoulders. Like she¡¯d done before, she finger-paints clean liquid skin onto Zeph¡¯s dribbling wound. Rhody watches with wide, anxious eyes, her knuckles white as they grip Zeph¡¯s clammy hand. The assassin winces faintly, her breath shallow but steadying. ¡°There, I¡¯d say we¡¯re even,¡± Ablee declares, plopping down onto the ground to rest her head against a broken stone. Rhody looks to Zeph with concern, before retreating to the rope, heading back up to retrieve her pack. She re-descends with the pack a short while later, having shackled Rinval in the cell. Zeph and Ablee both lay sprawled out, Zeph¡¯s shallow breaths punctuated by Ablees irksome snoring. Rhody digs through the pack for alcohol and bandages. The log-book catches her eye, its black, leather cover peeking out of its pocket. She turns to look at the wild-haired girl snoozing beside her charge. She¡¯s on the list. She thinks, One of the six Urough¡¯s, guilty of consuming Ambrosia. We¡¯re going to have to kill her...I should have told Zeph earlier¡­ Applause hangs limp on Zeph¡¯s hip, gleaming in the Tower-light. Rhody¡¯s mind twists, and she feels slimy just considering it. We can¡¯t let her get away, and Zeph won¡¯t have the strength when they wake up. She trudges over to them, loose stone crackling beneath her boots. Ablee stirs for a moment, shifting onto her side and pulling her knees to her chest. Applause¡¯s presence purrs to Rhody. This is an acolyte¡¯s duty. But another voice echoes in her ear, Brenna¡¯s, her friend who had abandoned this honor to her, ¡°It¡¯s not as great as it seems.¡±
When Zeph stirs, the warmth of the sun radiates through her hat, which Rhody has laid across the side of her face. Zeph grabs its top and lifts it, her eyes fixing on Ablee. ¡°Rhody¡­ you should¡­ tie her up¡­¡± she murmurs, her voice raspy but firm. Rhody, perched on a stone¡¯s edge, looks at the girl, ¡°I don¡¯t know if that¡¯d do us much good. You saw what she¡¯s capable of.¡± ¡°Heh, guess you¡¯re right¡­ We need her though¡­ She can probably help us find Karich¡­¡± Zeph rolls her shoulders and groans, ¡°Ahh, that pinches.¡± ¡°Zeph, about that¡­¡± Rhody stumbles over her words. ¡°What is it?¡± Zeph says, leveling her eyes with Rhody¡¯s. ¡°Well¡­ I know you¡¯ve told me many times¡­ Not to discuss future marks¡­¡±, the words slip from Rhody in hesitant spurts. Zeph winces as she raises her left hand to pinch her nose, ¡°Stop¡­ I don¡¯t care what you think I need to know. If it¡¯s going to pull my focus from Karich, stop. Just stop.¡± ¡°I¡­ Alright.¡± Rhody turns to look at Ablee, the girl¡¯s eyes are blinking awake. Ablee tilts her head up to take in the two and lets out an exaggerated yawn, ¡°Looks like you survived!¡± Zeph¡¯s head spins to face her, her whip-like reflexes pulling the little remaining blood from her face. She goes white, and lays her scowling cheek upon the ground, ¡°Yes,¡± Zeph¡¯s shaking right hand pulls Applause from its holster and points it at Ablee, ¡°Now don¡¯t do anything stupid. You¡¯re coming with us.¡± Ablee snorts, leaning back on her hands with a smirk. ¡°Really? That¡¯s the first thing you have to say? Not, ¡®Thanks for patching me up, Ablee. You¡¯re a lifesaver¡¯?¡± Zeph tries to sit up, wincing as Rhody rushes to steady her. Her golden hair clings to her face, streaked with sweat and dirt. ¡°You¡¯re helping us find your father,¡± she says, her tone still sharp despite the weakness in her voice. Ablee rolls her eyes. ¡°What makes you think I¡¯m going to turn that offer down? He¡¯s going up The Tower. So am I. Join my climbing party and you can do whatever you want to him when we pass him by. After I¡¯ve had my turn of course!¡± Her lip twitching, Zeph lowers Applause, ¡°We¡¯re not joining your climbing party. You are my captive. I run this show.¡± Ablee stares at her for a long moment. Finally, she lets out a low laugh. ¡°You two can call this whatever you want, I¡¯m just glad to have you on board!¡± Chapter 9 - Libation The trio¡¯s descent into Row stirs the village like a gust through dry leaves. Ablee leads the way, striding boldly into the central square, her grin sharp as she scans the villagers huddled in cautious clusters. Broken beams and sagging rooftops, the scars of Karich''s iron rule, frame the scene. Ablee plants her hands on her hips, her voice ringing out. ¡°Karich is gone!¡± she declares, the words carrying over the murmur of the crowd. ¡°The keep¡¯s wide open, waiting for you to take it!¡± A beat of stunned silence follows, the villagers exchanging wide-eyed glances. Before the embers of her statement can catch, Zeph steps forward, her shadow cutting across Ablee. ¡°We cleared the keep.¡± she corrects sharply, Applause gleaming faintly at her side. Her eyes narrow as she levels them at Ablee. ¡°Don¡¯t go claiming credit for what I did.¡± Ablee rolls her eyes, turning to face Zeph. ¡°You''re here with me; your help was implied.¡± The two lock eyes, and sparks fly between them. Ablee¡¯s smirk widens, defiant, while Zeph¡¯s jaw tightens, her stance stiff with irritation. Around them, the villagers whisper, shifting uneasily as they watch the spectacle. Rhody steps forward, her voice pitched awkwardly between mediation and desperation. ¡°Maybe we could...focus on the villagers, what this means for them¡ª¡± ¡°Stay out of this, Rhody!¡± they snap in unison, their combined irritation cutting her short. The villagers, cautiously emboldened by the strange display, begin murmuring louder. A few straighten their shoulders, gripping old tools and makeshift weapons. The keep, once a symbol of fear, suddenly seems¡­ reachable. Ablee''s energy is infectious as she spins to face the gathering villagers. ¡°You¡¯ve all been waiting for this,¡± she says, her voice booming like a slege-hammer against stone. She sweeps an arm toward the distant silhouette of The Long Fang Mountains Keep, its dark spires jutting against the early dawn. ¡°Karich¡¯s reign is over! No more patrols shaking you down for scraps. No more curfews!¡± The crowd shifts, their faces a blend of hope and hesitation. Ablee leans into their uncertainty, her grin sharp, her voice rising with fiery conviction. ¡°That fortress is yours! It¡¯s time you took it back and showed the world that Row won¡¯t be stepped on anymore!¡± Zeph steps forward, her presence adding to the swell of emotion. Her tone is low and commanding. ¡°The keep¡¯s defenses have been dealt with. The warband is in disarray. But that window won¡¯t stay open forever.¡± She levels her gaze at the villagers, her eyes set and unwavering. ¡°You¡¯ve got a chance to reclaim what¡¯s yours. Don¡¯t waste it!¡± Ablee flashes her a sideways glance, lips quirking in a half-smirk. The contrast between Zeph¡¯s icy precision and her own blazing passion is palpable yet oddly complementary. ¡°See?¡± Ablee adds, spinning back to the crowd. ¡°Even the witch agrees. You¡¯ve got this!¡± The villagers exchange uncertain looks, but Ablee¡¯s fervor and Zeph¡¯s confidence strike a chord. Slowly, heads begin to nod. A blacksmith steps forward, hammer in hand. Behind him, a farmer hefts a battered scythe. The murmurs swell into determined chatter. What once felt impossible now seems inevitable. The trio continues down the street as the village sets into action.
The heavy wooden doors of Row''s garrison break open. Inside the dimly lit hall, a small group of the remaining watchmen discuss the previous night''s events. At the trio''s intrusion, they rise to their feet, spears aloft, with fear in their eyes. Their shoulders stiffen as they recognize the chilling presence of the gunslinger. Zeph doesn¡¯t need to speak; the gleam of Applause at her hip does all the talking. One guard, braver or stupider than the rest, steps forward, a halberd clutched tightly in his trembling hands. ¡°H-halt!¡± he barks, though his voice wavers. ¡°You¡¯re not¡ª¡± Applause clears its holster with a smooth, almost lazy motion. Its barrel points at the man¡¯s chest, and the room freezes. ¡°This is so played out,¡± Zeph says, her voice touched with annoyance. ¡°Can we just hurry things along? I''m starving.¡± He stumbles back, nearly tripping over his feet. His halberd clatters to the ground. Behind him, the other soldiers exchange uncertain looks, their confidence evaporating in the face of Zeph¡¯s calm menace. Ablee takes a step forward, her grin wicked, ¡°Alright now, I KNOW you fellas have some good grub around here; bring it out!" Rhody peeks around the garrison''s entrance out, clutching her deck''s pouch. ¡°Now,¡± Zeph says, her tone brooking no argument, ¡°where¡¯s the cook?¡± The kitchen door swings open with a dramatic creak, revealing a whirlwind of motion. Pots clang against counters, and steam billows from an oversized cauldron. Standing before them is a stout, mustachioed man with a chef¡¯s hat leaning precariously to one side. He¡¯s wielding a ladle like a sword. ¡°Ahm right here!¡± he bellows, glowering at the girls. His eyes widen slightly at the sight of Zeph and Applause, but his bravado holds. ¡°And this is not a tavern! Whatever you¡¯re here for, the answer is NO!¡± He swings the ladle, disgorging an errant droplet of bisque that Zeph sidesteps with a tsk.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Zeph takes a deliberate step forward, her boots clicking against the floor. Her sharp, calculating gaze is enough to make the chef''s assistants freeze mid-step. ¡°We¡¯re here for the best you¡¯ve got,¡± she says, snatching the ladle from his hand. Running her tongue along its scoop, her face scrunches. ¡°And gods help you if it''s no better than this.¡± ¡°The best?¡± The cook scoffs, his hand flying to his chest as though personally affronted. ¡°Impossible! The best is for officers only!¡± A sous chef with long, mint-green hair approaches the man, "Sorry to interrupt Chef, but I believe that''s Karich''s daughter; she must be back from boarding school." Ablee erupts, "Don''t you DARE CALL ME THAT! AND BOARDING SCHOOL?!" she storms forward, fists balling at her sides. Rhody rushes behind her, grabbing ahold of the straps of Ablee''s overalls. ¡°Hey now, we don''t need to start another fight!" The cook sputters and raises his hands in defeat. ¡°Fine, fine! Steaks and ale for the lord''s guests!¡± he cries, his tone dripping with melodrama. ? Zeph smirks and throws out an arm to block Ablee''s advance. Turning to the livid girl, she mouths, "Don''t you ruin this for me."
The table groans beneath the weight of their feast, thick slabs of meat seared to perfection and frothy mugs of ale. The scent of charred herbs and sizzling fat hangs heavy in the air. Without any warning, Ablee lunges at the nearest plate, tearing into her steak with a ferocity that would make a wild animal blush. ¡°Is¡­ is she even chewing?¡± Rhody whispers, her wide eyes darting between Ablee¡¯s rapid-fire bites and the pile of bones already forming beside her plate. Ablee pauses, her mouth full, and flashes Rhody a grease-slick grin. ¡°Chewing¡¯s overrated,¡± she says through a muffled mouthful and washes it down with a long gulp of ale. It¡¯s Ablee''s first taste of alcohol, and it shows. By her second mug, her cheeks are flushed, and her actions somehow grow wilder. A cloth napkin folded into a jaunty hat rests atop her head. ¡°Arr tis me, Captain Steakbeard, Terror of Row!¡± Ablee announces, a 20 oz rib-eye hanging from her teeth. Rhody looks up to Zeph, muttering under her breath, ¡°Are you sure we need her?¡±
The chaos crescendos when there¡¯s one steak left, sitting tantalizingly in the center of the table. Zeph leans forward to grab it with her fork, but Ablee¡¯s hand slams down first, her fingers curling around it. ¡°It¡¯s mine!¡± Ablee declares, her drunken slur undermining the menace in her voice. Zeph levels Applause at the girl and says, ¡°Hands off.¡± Ablee glares and then slaps her hand down through the steak, painting her palm and fingers with glistening, seared goodness. "Whatever," she says and begins gnawing on one of her knuckles, drawing out a flood of red juices that dribble down her chin. Zeph recoils, disgust flashing across her face. ¡°Fine. Take it. Just¡­ stop doing that.¡± Ablee beams victorious and tears into her prize. Zeph sighs, leaning back and sipping her ale. She observes her "captive," half-amused, half-regretful, as subdued soldiers glance at her in awe and trepidation. The assassin smirks, toasting them with her mug. ¡°Chew on that.¡± The Tower dominates the horizon outside the garrison window, rising from the earth like the spine of an ancient behemoth, its base lost in the hazy distance. Its immense form stretches into the heavens, a monolith of white stone speckled with patches of green and blue. The sunlight catches along its marbled side, shimmering like a mirage. Jagged protrusions jut from its surface, forming irregular ledges and overhangs. Weaving an ever-changing course around them are faint trails of ley energy, the currents upon which Tower Liners sail. Ablee stands at the window, her face illuminated by the golden glow of the sun. Her eyes are fixed on the Tower, wide and unblinking, her grin a mixture of determination and exhilaration. ¡°That,¡± she says, her voice low and reverent, ¡°is all I''ve waited for.¡± Rhody glances up from her mug, puzzled. ¡°You mean the giant forbidden death pillar?¡± ¡°Not just a pillar.¡± Ablee snaps, whirling around, her face set with unmatched intensity. ¡°It¡¯s a challenge. A reckoning. You think anyone who climbs that thing is the same when they reach the top?¡± She points a finger at it, her voice rising with fervor. ¡°Every crack, every ledge, every windblown inch of it screams, ¡®You can¡¯t.¡± Zeph watches her from her seat, chin resting on her palm. ¡°You''re right, you can''t. Oakley''s the only one to ever top The Tower, and she''s dead.¡± "She proved it can be done, and I''m going to be next." Ablee raises her mug, swirling the last dregs of her ale. ¡°You know,¡± she says casually, ¡°Karich commissioned a Liner; my original plan was to steal it.¡± Rhody freezes mid-sip, her eyes wide. ¡°Steal a¡­ You can''t just steal a Liner!¡± Ablee waves a hand. ¡°Of course, the old bastard''s already taken off in it, so I guess we¡¯ll just have to borrow another one.¡± Rhody chokes. ¡°Borrow? You mean steal another one?¡± Her voice rises in pitch with each word. ¡°Are you insane? That¡¯s not just illegal¡ªit¡¯s insanely illegal! We¡¯ll report to the King of Wands Temple and requisition a room on board one the proper way.¡± Zeph snorts, tipping her hat back as she walks to the window ledge. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s not happening.¡± Rhody turns on her, aghast. ¡°What do you mean, not happening? It¡¯s the only way we can up there to finish your mark¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going back to the Temple empty-handed,¡± Zeph cuts in sharply. ¡°They could drop the marks, thinking it''s not worth chasing Ablee''s Dad up the death-pillar. That would be a permanent stain on my record.¡± Her tone drops lower, cold as steel. ¡°We¡¯ll handle this Liner situation ourselves, finish the mission, and then report back. No detours.¡± Rhody bristles. ¡°Climbing The Tower without the church¡¯s permission is punishable by death! You''d be better off consuming Ambrosia.¡± Zeph raises an eyebrow, smirking. ¡°They don¡¯t need to know how we did it, only that we succeeded. Now, do I need to take you captive too?¡± Rhody sputters, her resolve cracking under Zeph¡¯s intensity. ¡°I¡­uh...¡± she mutters. Ablee shoots the girl an amused smile, ¡°That''s the spirit, Rhody! Hope you enjoy bending the rules," then returns her attention to The Tower and hashing out plans with Zeph.
Rhody sits on the edge of the room, her tarot deck fanned absently in her hands, though she isn¡¯t reading the cards. Her eyes flick between Zeph, lounging confidently with her boots kicked up on the table, and Ablee, still half-drunk and laughing as she tries to balance a fork on her nose. The warmth of the feast, the lighthearted chaos¡ªthey should be comforting. But Rhody feels a knot tightening in her chest. Chapter 10 - Race! Ablee and Zeph march out of Row side by side in lock-step, both refusing to give up the lead. A chill wind rolls over them as heavy gray clouds pool on the horizon, blocking out the sun. Trailing behind the pair, Rhody pulls her cloak tight against the biting air. Her gaze locks on the jagged path snaking down from the Long Fang Mountains, barely wider than the breadth of a wagon''s wheels. It twists and coils like a serpent''s spine, its sharp edges promising a quick end to anyone who slips. Far below, valleys lie shrouded in shadow, their depths swallowing the fading light. The only reprieve from the gloom comes from the distant glow of their destination, the plateau city of Mango Port. It towers far in the distance above the valley floor, a monolith crowned with a lattice of ley-line energy. Its rocky flanks glisten with blue-lit frost. The glowing currents of the surrounding Ley-Lines disappear into the looming darkness like the threads of a vast, celestial loom. Rhody¡¯s eyes linger too long on the sight, and a loose stone shifts under her boot. She staggers, her arms flailing for balance. ¡°Careful there,¡± Zeph says, catching her by the arm. Her voice carries a wry lilt, as though the drop below is no more concerning than a puddle. Rhody swallows, staring at the yawning abyss below. ¡°I''ve seen plates of spaghetti with less twists and turns. Maybe we should wait until tomorrow; Climbing up it with the sun''s light was one thing. I really don''t want to try navigating this in the dark." Ablee laughs, sharp, and full of challenge. She plants her hands on her hips and fixes Rhody with a mischievous grin. ¡°We''ll be in the valley well before night!¡± Rhody raises an eyebrow. ¡°What do you mean? We''ve got an hour, maybe two...¡± ¡°Relax,¡± Ablee says, jerking her head toward a weathered storage shack on the side of the road. Its frame leans, waiting for a sharp breeze to pull it into the chasm below. ¡°I¡¯ve got a better way down.¡± Zeph follows Ablee¡¯s gesture and raises an eyebrow. ¡°What¡¯s in there?¡± ¡°Oh, I''ve been dreaming of this moment,¡± Ablee replies. She strides toward the shed, boots crunching the dusty ground. The rusted hinges buckle as she kicks open the door, revealing three small rickety carts lined up in the gloom like discarded memories, one black, one yellow, one blue. ¡°Soap-box racers,¡± Ablee declares, her grin stretching wider. ¡°My step-brothers built them. They came back from their trip to Cacio obsessed with these things. Course, they wouldn¡¯t let me or Cline anywhere near ''em. They just sat in these things, laughing their heads off while we watched from the sidelines.¡± Her fingers curl into fists. Her expression shifts as quickly as it darkened, her grin snapping back into place. ¡°But they¡¯re not here now, are they? So I¡¯m calling the shots. We''re racing to the bottom!¡± Rhody¡¯s mouth opens, but no words come out. She gestures at the carts, their wood warped and fixtures rusted under the shed''s leaky roof. ¡°These things are falling apart, there¡¯s no way they still work.¡± ¡°Oh, they¡¯ll work,¡± Ablee shoots back "I''d bet my life on it." Rhody''s jaw drops further, "You are doing that, literally! Zeph, there''s no way we''re doing this, right?!" Zeph crouches by the black cart, giving one of its squeaky wheels a spin. ¡°I''m not racing you in this death trap unless there are proper stakes, Ablee. Winner is Captain of the Liner we steal.¡± ¡°Deal!¡± Ablee agrees, her tone brooking no argument, ¡°I''ve already got a name picked out for the ship.¡± Rhody steps back, shaking her head. ¡°No, no way. You¡¯re both mentally ill. Can''t you see how dangerous this is?¡± Ablee gives her an exaggerated eye roll. ¡°No, it''s simple; you just need to know when to brake. You''ll be behind me, so just slow down when I do.¡± ¡°And if the brakes decide not to work?!" Zeph traces the word "STRUT" with her finger across the cart''s dusty side and smirks. ¡°If Ablee''s willing to bet her Captain status on these things, I¡¯ll give her the benefit of the doubt. Besides,¡± she adds with a pointed glance at Ablee, ¡°I can''t turn down the chance to put you in your place.¡± Ablee¡¯s grin turns razor-sharp. ¡°Big words," she says. Before Rhody can protest further, Ablee grabs her by the arm and tugs her into the shed. ¡°Don¡¯t overthink it,¡± she says, her voice teasing. ¡°Just lean into the turns; you¡¯ll do fine.¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Rhody whimpers as Ablee corrals her into the nearest racer.
Seated in her cart, Ablee is beaming, her nose scrunched. The warped wooden frames of the vehicles creak with every shift as leaves of peeling paint fall from their sides. To Rhody, they look like disasters waiting to happen. To Ablee, they¡¯re a reckoning. Ablee slaps the side of her cart. ¡°Ready to see what these beauties can do?¡± Her voice rolls down the mountain like a dare. Zeph tips her hat, her gaze narrow as she inspects Ablee''s yellow racer. ¡°You¡¯ll be lucky to make it halfway, those wheels are not secure.¡± Rhody hunches in the blue cart, her knuckles pale, clamping the steering rope. The vehicle''s brakes groan as gravity pulls the weight of her pack into them. Her gaze flicks to Ablee, then Zeph, and finally to the hungrily waiting void flanking the edges of their course. ¡°I¡¯m going to die. This is how I die.¡± Ablee drums her hands along her racer''s lemon-yellow hood. ¡°You two better not make me wait long at the finish line." Zeph huffs and raises Applause, ¡°Ready... Set..." BANG! Loosing her brakes, Ablee¡¯s racer shoots forward, its warped wheels popping against the uneven ground. Zeph follows immediately, her movements smooth and deliberate as her cart leans into the first turn. Rhody hesitates, watching the two grow smaller down the darkening trail. ¡°Come on, Rhody!¡± Zeph calls back, her voice laced with encouragement, ¡°Try to keep up!¡± Rhody finally musters the courage. Her foot pulls back from the brake pedal and her cart jolts into motion, wobbling dangerously as it joins the others accelerating down the incline. They barrel down the mountain, each turn sharper than the last. Ablee leans hard into the curves, her back wheels catching air. She pushes a hand down through her floorboard, turning it to paint, and grabs the path''s ledge, wrenching her cart''s wheels back onto it. Zeph takes advantage; hugging the trail''s inner lip, she pulls ahead, her golden hair whipping like a streamer behind her. ¡°Oh, real smooth!¡± Ablee shouts, leaning forward, willing herself to close the distance between them, "Good luck trying to hold that lead!" "Ha!" Exclaims Zeph, not looking back. She veers from side to side along the course''s width, expertly closing any passing gaps, ¡°Talk less, drive better.¡± A pile of stacked stone looms ahead. Drifting around it, Zeph pulls her revolver. BANG! A single shot cracks the air, scattering the smaller stones and sending the larger ones tumbling into Ablee''s path. Rhody¡¯s voice rings out from behind. ¡°King of Wands!" She screams, "Isn''t this dangerous enough?!" Zeph holsters her weapon, "Hurry it up, Rhody, you don''t want to come in last!" Her keen eyes are already set on the next stretch of trail. Ablee''s cart slips along Zeph''s impromptu hazard. She throws her wheels, reversing the direction of her wild skid, "Ahaaa!" "Ablee!" Rhody hollers as she watches the girl careen over the inner lip of the curve. Ablee sinks into the shadows. Rhody''s eyes widen, aghast. Zeph killed her. Then, Ablee''s cart crests over the opposite ledge, bouncing and sliding, spitting a plume of dust in Zeph''s face. ¡°Shortcut!¡± Ablee shouts, her laughter cutting through the rush of wind. The racers hurtle forward, the trail narrowing as the incline grows steeper. Ablee¡¯s laughter echoes down the mountainside, her yellow cart bouncing wildly with each uneven dip in the path. Zeph pulls ahead once more, her black racer gliding with a precision that seems almost effortless. Rhody lags far behind, gripping the steering rope so tight her knuckles burn, her cart lurching and groaning under unsteady control. ¡°I told you to lean into the turns Rhody!¡± Ablee shouts over her shoulder, "You''re making us all look bad!" ¡°Making us look bad?¡± Rhody¡¯s voice breaks as her cart slams into a rut, the wheels shuddering. ¡°I¡¯m trying not to die!¡± Ahead, the jagged path rounds a sheer cliff face, a drop of hundreds of feet yawning to their left. Zeph swerves around the sharp turn, her focus unshaken, but Ablee¡¯s cart wobbles as she takes the corner too fast. Zeph calls out, ¡°No more off-roading; you''re gonna get yourself killed,¡± a smirk audible in her voice. Ablee smiles, her teeth flashing in the dim light. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t you worry about me! Worry about what¡¯s up ahead.¡± Zeph squints through the cloud of dust in Ablee''s wake. ¡°What do you mean ''what¡¯s up ahead''?¡± Ablee doesn¡¯t answer, her gaze fixed on a dark mass looming further down the path. Shadows flicker in the haze, indistinct at first, but then resolve into a hulking, long-snouted form. It moves slowly, its eyes set on the approaching carts, reflecting the faint Ley-Light from Mango Port in the distance. The smirk fades from Zeph''s face. ¡°Rhody,¡± she shouts, her voice clipped. ¡°Stop your cart!¡± ¡°What?¡± Rhody responds, panic rising in her voice. ¡°Wha- What is that?!" Ablee¡¯s cart jerks around the next bend, barreling toward the creature. It lets out a low, guttural hiss that reverberates through the stone beneath them. Chapter 11 - Same Old Song and Dance The soapbox racer rattled and groaned, every bump of the rocky slope threatening to send Ablee airborne. Her knuckles tightened around the wheel, her grin widening with each near-miss. A boulder loomed ahead, its jagged edge promising disaster. Ablee yanked the steering rope, skidding to the side in a spray of gravel, the cart tilting precariously before slamming back down with a bone-jarring thud. ¡°Hold together, baby!¡± she shouted. Then it came¡ªthe shadow. The vast silhouette cast by the towering crocodile beast as it reared onto legs bizarrely long for any normal croc. Its upright frame embodied raw power, stretching high, easily the height of three men stacked atop one another. The beast''s physique was like that of a colossal ape, its broad shoulders rippling beneath scales as thick and unyielding as forged iron. It glimmered in the ley-line light, its texture jagged and uneven, a scarred mosaic of brutal combat carved into its hide. Its elongated body was built for dominance, not for survival¡ªa monstrous statement against nature itself. Jutting down its spine was a jagged ridge of bone, its sharp points protruding like the peaks of a fortress wall. Its tail was a battering ram of muscle and sinew, sweeping low and sending chunks of earth hurtling through the air. Each of its claws was the length of a sword. Ablee didn¡¯t falter. Her eyes locked forward, her racer rattling and screeching. She didn¡¯t dare slow; hesitation would mean death. A low rumble vibrated from the beast''s chest. The air screamed around the snapping motion of its tail as her cart slipped between its legs. Its jaws, lined with rows of yellowed, uneven teeth, snapped down just behind her. The jagged shadow of its tail loomed over her. Ablee ducked into her racer as it whooshed overhead, missing her by a hair. The gust of its passage sent her cart wobbling. She kept her bent position, her heart pounding as she shot downhill. Exhilaration cut through her fear, and she let out a whoop. ¡°Too slow, big guy!¡± she yelled over her shoulder, her grin as sharp as the fangs she¡¯d just dodged. Her racer tore down the slope, leaving the enraged brute clawing at empty space. Ahead, the slope smoothed, promising speed, but a scream snapped her attention back to the ledge above. Rhody¡¯s cart wobbled uncontrollably, the girl¡¯s pale face stark against the chaos. The monster¡¯s roar had clearly shaken her, and her cart careened toward a ledge. Ablee shouted something, but the words were lost in the wind as Rhody rushed to the brink. The acolyte''s breath hitched, and the world slowed to a crawl, the jagged edge of the cliff drifting lazily closer. A deep hum filled her ears as her Ace of Wands ability, just recently discovered, surged. Her senses sharpened, her body moving with unnerving precision. She shoved herself out of the cart as it toppled over, her heavy pack trailing behind her. Her arms crested the ridge and fumbled to grab hold of the ground. The weight of her pack pulled against her, her arms straining to hold on. ¡°Don¡¯t look down, don¡¯t look down,¡± She muttered through gritted teeth, her fingers slipping. Stone crumbled beneath her boots as she kicked at the rock wall, desperate for a foothold. Zeph watched over her shoulder, her sharp eyes narrow. Without hesitation, she yanked the rope of her racer, aiming it directly at the beast¡¯s leg. The impact was deafening, the cart crumpling like paper against the scaled limb. Zeph lept free mid-crash, landing in a roll before drawing Applause. ¡°Hold on!¡± she shouted, unloading a volley of shots into the monstrosity behind her as she sprinted toward Rhody. Sparks flew where bullets glanced off its hide, the creature barely flinching. It raged after her, Zeph didn¡¯t stop, her focus on Rhody¡¯s dangling form. Ablee¡¯s racer screeched to a halt, its wooden wheels sliding against the dirt. Her body passed through the rippling wooden form of the vehicle. Feet catching the ground, she propelled herself into a sprint, her eyes fixed uphill where the chaos unfolded. Her shout rang out over the clamor. ¡°Hey! Over here, you oversized pair of boots!¡± She waved her arms, her voice full of mockery. The monster¡¯s head jerked toward her. It roared, the sound echoing through the canyons, and turned to lumber in her direction. Ablee¡¯s legs kicked into second gear, and she darted toward a jagged boulder, sliding through it with a surge of her Ambrosia. Her body emerged from the other side coated in a fresh layer of stone paint. The wet earthen armor gleamed in the ley-light, and her pounding foot drops set a tempo for her ascent. Zeph grabbed Rhody¡¯s arm. With a grunt of effort, she hauled the girl upward, both of them collapsing onto solid ground. Rhody panted, her eyes wide with lingering terror. ¡°Thanks,¡± she gasped, clutching her chest. ¡°You may have been better off falling...¡± Zeph replied, digging for ammunition in Rhody''s pack. Behind them, the beast roared again, rushing to meet Ablee, "What do you think, Rhody? She''s got this one, right?" Rhody sucked in cold air. They could run and hide, let Ablee face it alone. The beast and Ablee. Both were problems, one of which would likely be handled in the ensuing clash... But... Rhody''s thumb tugged at the button of her deck''s pouch; she shook her head, "She could have just continued downhill. We have to..." "Damnit, you''re right." Zeph frowned, then jumped to her feet and took off, bounding, each step catching air, carrying her faster and faster downhill. Ablee growled, charging at the creature¡¯s legs. Her first punch connected with a resounding crack, sending tremors through her arm. Stumbling slightly, the beast recovered with alarming speed. It swung a clawed hand, narrowly missing Ablee as she ducked and drove another stone-clad fist into its knee. Zeph rushed toward the fray, Applause blazing. Each shot found its mark, peppering the beast¡¯s joints and softer scales. ¡°Rhody, ammo!¡± Zeph barked over her shoulder, tossing Applause back without a glance to see if the girl was in position. The weapon spun through the air, and Rhody, racing to keep up, caught it with fumbling hands, her expression frantic. ¡°I¡¯m on it!¡± The sizzling hot revolver in Rhody''s hands brought her another round of Clarity. The revolver reloaded; she snapped the chamber shut and hurled it back, shouting, "Catch!" Zeph, rolling backward to avoid a snap of the beast''s brutal teeth, caught it and fired a round that buried into its lengthy jaw. Ablee pressed her advantage, whirling her rocky fists into a salvo of blows that shook the beast¡¯s legs. ¡°I''ve met punching bags that were more graceful!¡± she taunted, her voice full of reckless confidence. The monster growled, its eyes flashing. Without warning, its massive tail swung around, catching Ablee off guard. The impact sent her flying, her rocky carapace, and gravity colluding to drag her downhill. She crashed through debris, her hardened form rolling uncontrollably and disappearing into the distance. Zeph gritted her teeth, her focus unwavering despite the setback. She darted around the creature, firing strategically while avoiding its crushing blows. The revolver clicked empty again, and she tossed it back to Rhody with a backward flick of her wrist. Rhody yanked it from the air, her voice rising in a frantic cheer. ¡°You¡¯ve got this, Zeph!¡± Zeph didn¡¯t respond, focused solely on weaving around the crocodile-ape''s blows, each swipe of its claws or snap of its snout a potentially life-ending event.
The faint hum of a ley-line vibrating tickled their ears, it was an almost imperceptible thrumming that carried a note of urgency. The combatants didn¡¯t notice at first, their attention fixed on the roaring monster before them. But as the sound grew louder, Rhody¡¯s gaze snapped upward. Overhead, a sleek yacht-like Liner descended along a minor ley-line. Its hull was beautifully crafted, narrow, and elegant, like a blade slicing the sky. Polished oak panels exuded pride, bordered by bands of reinforced steel. The mast was a towering spire of dark metal, its tip anchored to the ley line by a glowing hook. The hook, forged from dark iron, shimmered like hot metal¡ªbut instead of fiery orange, its glow was an ethereal, pulsing blue, as if it drank the very energy of the line it rode upon. Its sail, a pristine fabric of pure white, fluttered dramatically in the breeze. Though designed for the air, the Liner had wheels tucked discreetly under its hull, each bolstered by thick-springed shocks and reinforced axles meant to withstand rough landings. The bottom of the ship promised resilience; its steel-plated frame was lined with scuffs and scratches¡ªthe battle scars of a well-traveled vessel.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Perched on the deck was its captain, a man whose presence was as striking as his ship. His coat, as white as the sail, was trimmed in gold. It fluttered as he leaned casually against the mast. His tousled chestnut hair shone in the fading remains of daylight, and a roguish grin played across his face. His eyes, an intense stormy gray, surveyed the scene below with veteran confidence. At his side, a stately cutlass hung from a leather belt, its hilt engraved with a constellation of crossing lines. ¡°Hold steady, friends!¡± he called out, his voice smooth and commanding, carrying over the chaos like the leader of a storm-tossed fleet. Eyeing his approach, a grimace pulled across the beast''s face. With a deft pull on the ship¡¯s rigging, he slowed its descent, the sail billowing with the cross-wind. The yacht screeched along the dirt path, its stalwart hull bouncing as its course slowed. He wasted no time, clambering up the mast with the dexterity of a monkey. With a dramatic flourish, he detached the glowing hook from the mast and leaped upward. His hook caught the ley-line, and blue energy pulsed through its iron, lighting it up like molten glass. He pulled back his legs and kicked them forward, shooting through the air as if on a zipline, hurtling toward Zeph and Rhody. The wind caught his coat as he glided effortlessly along the line. His movements were theatrical, each grandiose motion executed with a practiced ease that bespoke years of experience. The blue light of the line dipped with his weight like a pulled lute string. Nearing the ground, he let go of the hook with a flourish. The line yanked it up, and the twirling hook slid off the rebounding thread of lightning. A spray of loose gravel and dirt shot out ahead of his pristinely polished boots as he skidded to a stop on his heels. He extended his arm, and the grip of his hook landed in his open palm. The sight was enough to make Rhody¡¯s knees buckle. ¡°That was... incredible...¡± she whispered, awe breaking over her. The man straightened, brushing the dust from his coat. ¡°Good evening,¡± he said, his lopsided grin widening as he drew his cutlass left-handed. The blade shone like quicksilver. ¡°Hope you don''t mind the intrusion¡ª¡± ¡°Took you long enough!¡± Zeph shouted, leaping over a bone-shatterer of a tail-swipe. ¡°Apologies,¡± he replied, spinning his cutlass and sauntering forward to join Zeph in the forge flames of the maddened beast''s assault. The crocodilian monster roared, its razor-sharp claws slashing through the air. The man lunged forward, his blade slicing through the air with a hiss. Each motion was fluid and wickedly aggressive, aimed at the deep scars along its hide. Zeph followed suit; her shots timed perfectly with his movements. Together, they revolved with clockwork choreography, her precision complementing his flair. Zeph retreated for a moment, catching her breath and handing Applause to Rhody. The girl, still half-dazed by the display, fumbled to reload it. Her voice was a mixture of panic and admiration. ¡°Who is this guy?¡± The assassin''s eyes didn¡¯t leave the battle. ¡°No idea,¡± she replied flatly, ¡°But he¡¯s useful.¡± The man laughed, his blade deflecting a strike from the creature¡¯s claws. Zeph cocked her white-hot wheel gun and lunged back into combat. The tide of the battle began to shift, the duo''s combined efforts driving the scaled ape-fiend back step by step. As they rallied, it bellowed, no longer looming with the same invincibility. The fight was far from over, but for the first time, victory felt within reach. The pair flowed around one another. Zeph moved like the wind, Applause snapping in perfect time. The hook and blade-wielding dervish danced beside her, his cutlass flashing in devastating arcs. Their strikes wove together, a cadence of blade and bullet, offense and evasion. The beast roared, its claws carving deep furrows in the stone, and the rhythm built ¡ª faster, tighter. The sharp crack of Zeph¡¯s shots punctuated a tempo. BANG! BANG! A beat, a hum, began to rise in Zeph¡¯s throat. A sound long buried. The music of memory stirred in her like the forgotten voice of a friend.
Dust swirled through a sleepy western town. Rows of clapboard houses and sun-starched ground. Not one bar brawl, shoot-out, or skull, So damn monotonous and dull. From within a squat white-walled home, a door banged open. Out stomped Zeph¡ªa girl of thirteen years and three days¡ªblack hat askew, a wooden BB pistol gripped in her hand. Her golden hair curled out wild and untamed as she glared down the empty street. A wagon wheel creaked. A dog barked in the distance. She sang, her voice bright but clipped; she was like a fire locked in a cage. Her words hit like sparks, popping in the stale air. ¡°Another day¡ª, Another yawn, and here''s this tiresome town at dawn. The blacksmith bangs, The cowboys hum, I wish that I was blue and numb.¡± Zeph marched forward, her pistol swinging in rhythm with her steps, stomping purposefully on every beat. A tumbleweed rolled lazily into her path, and she sent it flying with a sharp kick. The street bustled to life. Men tipped their hats. Mothers swept porches. Children chased each other through clouds of dust, singing out snatches of melody that harmonized with Zeph¡¯s. A rancher strummed a banjo lazily on the steps of the saloon, adding twang to the town¡¯s sluggish tune. As Zeph strode into the street¡¯s rhythm, everyone began to sway and move to the plodding harmony. Voices blended like a creaking wagon train across a rutted trail. ¡°Mornin¡¯, Zeph.¡± ¡°Howdy, Zeph.¡± ¡°Don''t your swine need to be fed?¡± ¡°Ey there, Zeph.¡± ¡°Look ''ere, Zeph.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t let those dreams get to your head.¡± Zeph spun dramatically, her arms thrown wide, and her frustration bled into a sardonic grin. The children nearby mimicked her, twirling clumsily, their laughter cutting through the dusty melody. ¡°Well isn''t this swell? It¡¯s still the same! The world goes on¡ªwhy have a name? A butcher cuts, A cobbler kneels, Like dirt stamped under wagon wheels.¡± She raised her pistol and twirled it, striking an exaggerated gunslinger¡¯s pose before firing into the air. ¡°Bandits wait beyond that ridge,¡± POP! The BB pistol fired. ¡°I¡¯ll meet them all atop the bridge! A bounty high, A legend made, To claim a mark''s¡ªthe grandest trade!¡± The banjo plucked a cheeky tune as shopkeepers muttered and shook their heads, wiping their brows or folding their arms in choreographed exasperation. A baker, hands streaked with flour, clapped a rhythm as he wiped his apron in time with the beat. ¡°She¡¯s mad, A loon, A girl with no sense.¡± ¡°She¡¯d shoot out, her eye, If given the chance.¡± The town choir swelled, swaying and rolling their eyes in perfect unison. Children mimed exaggerated gun battles, throwing themselves to the ground, felled by imaginary bullets. Zeph strutted past the general store, her eyes glued to the silver-plated revolver in the window. Its tag gleamed like a beacon: fifteen dollars. ¡°Guns and assassins, What nonsense she¡¯ll spew! But chores will remind her¡ª Life¡¯s work is the glue.¡± Zeph spun on her heels, brandishing her pistol as she marched up to a trio of gossiping women with wicker baskets. The women shifted their stances like a practiced waltz; their noses tilted skyward. Her voice rose to confront them. ¡°The trick-shooter! She told me how¡ª Assassin''s work! I want it now! With perfect aim, With iron will, I¡¯ll climb my way atop that hill!¡± As Zeph belted the line, she leaped atop a barrel. The banjoist struck a dramatic chord as she sang of her imagined future. Her shadow stretched long in the golden light, and she gestured toward the horizon as if drawing out her dreams. ¡°I see it there¡ª The world¡¯s dark edge. Beyond that fence. Beyond that hedge. Where shadows pool and steel burns hot, You''ll find me there¡ªtaking my SHOT¡ª.¡± A crumpled, hand-drawn wanted poster fluttered from her coat, and she waved it high like a battle flag. The children danced around her barrel in a mocking circle, laughing and pointing, but she continued. ¡°Trick-Shot Legend, Assassin Queen! Her pistol bright with silver sheen. The page will turn; their jaws will drop. And Zeph¡¯ll climb¡ª And Zeph¡¯ll top¡ª.¡± She struck a triumphant pose, her hat tipped low as the last note rang out. The laughter faded, and the townsfolk scattered back to their daily routines, their movements a dull echo of the earlier harmony. "Girl needs to pull her weight. Have ya seen the state of her ma''s ranch?" someone muttered, tipping their hat in time with the lingering music. ¡°Yer right, she¡¯s dodgin'' more than a prairie dog in a barn dance.¡± Zeph sighed, hopping down from the barrel. Her pistol hung limp in her hand, and her voice softened into a wistful melody. ¡°They laugh and scoff, They don''t believe¡ª But I¡¯ve got dreams they can''t conceive. What¡¯s life to me, if life¡¯s this small? If nothing changes, nothing calls?¡± The banjoist shifted into a minor key as boots clattered against wooden planks, drawing all eyes toward the rider storming into town. His horse¡¯s mouth foamed, and his voice broke through the fading tune like a cracked whip. ¡°It¡¯s come agaaaaain! All teeth and claw! It killed the Whitmans¡ªate ''em raw!¡± A gasp rippled through the town choir, their staggered voices rising in alarm. Zeph¡¯s head snapped up, and she stepped forward, her gaze sharp. ¡°What''s that?¡± she demanded. The rider wheezed, slumping forward in his saddle. ¡°A terrible beast! Part armadillo, part mountain lion! Down near the gorge!¡± The music trembled with tension as the mayor waddled out of his office, pale-faced and shaking. ¡°I''m puttin'' a bounty on its head! Fifteen dollars¡ª¡± Zeph didn¡¯t hear the rest. Her eyes locked on the general store window, where the revolver gleamed. The music surged with pounding purpose. Her BB pistol raised, and her voice rang out, clear and defiant. ¡°A beast¡¯s rough hide¡ª A silver prize. It¡¯s finally time, no compromise! I¡¯ll take my aim, I¡¯ll take my shot. I''ll slay this beast, and earn my spot!" The town choir erupted into chaotic protest, their movements clashing as voices overlapped in frantic disarray. ¡°She¡¯s lost her mind!¡± ¡°Someone stop her!¡± ¡°Please Mayor, rescind yer'' offer!¡± But Zeph, undeterred, pushed through the crowd, her grin wide and wild. The banjo picked up a furious tempo as the music swelled into a final triumphant refrain. ¡°Let them sneer! Let them doubt! I¡¯ll earn myself some gosh darn clout. This town can scoff, But I will soar! It¡¯s time to reach¡ªfor something¡ªMORE¡ª¡± The last note soared into the dusty sky as Zeph burst from the throng, her black hat tilted rakishly, her pistol raised in challenge. The townsfolk stilled, and the music faded into the whisper of the wind. BANG!
Zeph''s attention snapped back to the present as Applause cracked again, her gun barrel glowing faintly from the heat. Ruby channels poured down the crocodile''s limbs. Lightning struck in the distance, outlining its wet form brilliantly. Its fury pooled along the ground, replaced with the primal call to endure. It routed, rumbling down the trail on all fours, battering the path with its knuckles. Zeph made to pursue, but their enigmatic rescuer held out his arm, "Let it go; my circle knows where it lairs." He turned to his vessel, parked with its mast pointed at an off-angle. "We''ll want to beat that storm back to Mango Port."