《The Survivor, Book 1 of Return to Ginnung Gap》


 Chapter 1, The Approaching Storm

    Chapter 1


    His nightmare woke him, as usual, standing at the foot of the bed, staring at him until he startled awake. It grinned down with demonic glee, its twisted features writhing with supressed laughter.


    ¡°Oh good,¡± the nightmare said. ¡°You¡¯re awake. The perfect metaphor for your life has appeared in the garden.¡± Its grin widened, full of pointed teeth and malicious intent.


    Tythos now stood beside the nightmare, looking at the fresh tilled dirt of the garden, the neat rows broken by a massive ironwood stump that had appeared overnight. Beside the log-cabin, the pair made a fine contrast, short and tall, light and dark. Tythos stood five feet tall, broad in the chest and shoulders, white beard and bald head. Some things hardened with age, and Tythos looked older than his years, weathered by a hard life. The nightmare stood eight feet tall, thin body with long arms ending in a handful of claws, its monstrous form pure black. The nightmare appeared to be made of smoke, its black form rolling and shifting in a boneless parody of a man. Bright lambent eyes looked into the garden with amusement, a sharp-toothed grin splitting its head in half. Its eyes, mouth and claws appeared more substantial than the rest of its body, the only parts of the creature that didn¡¯t roil and shift.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it perfect?¡± Asked the nightmare, its dark form swelling with what looked like pride. ¡°It¡¯s not right for this region, it¡¯s been cut down, and wait until you see what the roots look like.¡±


    Tythos looked at the weathered stump. Standing there, beside the crude excuse for a farmhouse, his mind¡¯s eye thought of the valley he stood in. Pines, fir and oak covered the bluffs that stood on either side of the winding valley. The logs that formed the one room structure he lived in were pine. He guessed there wasn¡¯t an ironwood tree for five-hundred miles.


    The top of the stump was polished by age, and the gray wood looked hard as stone. He estimated it was ten foot across. It sat right in the middle of the garden.  Tythos had finished tilling this spot yesterday. It had been stump free.


    Tythos closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, the sweet stink of pigs mixing with the smell of fresh turned dirt. The early rays of the sun pricked his skin and he felt sweat beginning to form on his brow. He let out the breath and opened his eyes. The stump remained.


    ¡°Did you do this?¡± Tythos asked, glancing at the creature standing beside him.


    The creature looked around with exaggerated motions, as if it was standing in a crowd and not sure who he was addressing.


    ¡°Meee?¡± The nightmare drew out the word, its deep voice rolling with a melodic, sing-song tone. ¡°Whatever would make you think I would do such a thing?¡±


    Tythos thought of the cow. He had scraped and saved to trade enough favor to get a cow. It had disappeared the first night it¡¯d spent on the farm. He¡¯d found most of the cow¡¯s blood where he had penned it in. No other trace of the animal had ever turned up.


    ¡°Well,¡± Tythos said. ¡°There was the cow.¡±


    The nightmare¡¯s face rolled into an aggrieved expression, putting a grotesque claw over where its heart would have been, if a smoke creature out of the nightmare realm had a heart.


    ¡°That was just bad luck.¡± The nightmare said it with a smile in its tone. It wore a saddened expression, though the corner of its mouth twitched.


    ¡°Uh-huh,¡± Tythos looked over at the scorched patch of ground where the coop he¡¯d built had stood. ¡°What about the chickens?¡±


    ¡°My,¡± the nightmare lost control, and its mouth curled into a smile. ¡°That was messy, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    The smile, full of twisted fangs, looked like something that waited at the bottom of a pit, ready to eat children and the hapless. Tythos remembered the first time he¡¯d seen it, coming for him out of the endless dark. Now he didn¡¯t bat an eye. After more than thirty years, he was used to it.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Tythos walked inside to get his only shovel. ¡°It was.¡±


    He¡¯d opted to burn the henhouse, instead of attempt to clean up the mess. That henhouse had been the first thing he¡¯d built since being assigned to work this piece of land. He¡¯d been proud of it. It leaned, and the roof leaked, but the first storm hadn¡¯t knocked it over. It had taken him a month to cobble it together. He still burned it. No sense in looking back.


    His failing farm produced only withered crops, and aggressive pigs. The pigs were the only animal that survived a night on the property.


    A sharp pain stung him on the back of his hand, then began to itch.


    ¡°Damn flies,¡± Tythos muttered, reaching to scratch it.


    His hand passed through empty air. He sighed. It was a phantom pain, accompanied by a phantom itch. He scratched at the stump where his hand had once connected to his wrist. This did nothing to help. He scratched anyway. Ten years, and he still got phantom pains, aches, and itches. Ten years since he lost his hand, and he still forgot sometimes.


    He walked out of the house, and around to the stump, his mind on the past. Everything he¡¯d tried to do after assuming the throne had gone wrong. The riots, the fires, the famine. He looked at the stump.


    It would be easier to move the garden, than to try and dig up this monstrosity. But he wanted the garden here, beside his only window. He stepped the shovel into the ground. He never let what was easier decide his way forward. He wasn¡¯t about to start now.


    He pulled out a set of leather straps and began to fasten them to his arm. One on his forearm and one near his wrist. He threaded a crude iron bar that ended in a hook through the straps. The hook sat where his hand should have. This allowed him some use of the arm while he worked. The straps bit into his skin and chafed. He had callouses on the arm from years of wearing the simple prosthetic.


    As he tightened the straps, using his teeth to cinch them down, the nightmare walked over. It loomed, an air of anticipation about it, like it was waiting for him to open a gift. Tythos glanced up at it, eyeing the expectant grin it wore.


    ¡°What?¡± Tythos said.


    ¡°Mmm, nothing,¡± the nightmare sang the last word.


    Tythos finished the straps and looked at it.


    ¡°It¡¯s never nothing, what?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just excited to see you complete the metaphor, that¡¯s all. No need to get snippy.¡±


    Tythos looked at its grin, then back at the stump. It looked like an ordinary stump that had begun to petrify with age. Except that it was too big, had appeared overnight, and no ironwood grew anywhere near here. Maybe he could salvage some of the wood from the stump. Tythos ignored the leering figure and moved the first shovelful.


    The piece of the stump this revealed had a hole in it. The hole was small, round, and deeper than he could see into. The nightmare leaned closer, its grin spreading off the sides of its head. Tythos leaned down to take a look at the hole. The smell of decaying flesh wafted up from inside. He caught a glint of reflected light from inside the hole, before something lashed out at him. Time seemed to slow as years of instincts forged in combat kicked in. His mind registered fangs as the shovel he held came stabbing down.


    The shovel stabbed into the dirt, taking the striking fangs with it. A bright green snake head fell onto the dirt, snapping and flopping around, venom dripping from long fangs, cold reptile eyes shining with malice. The head had been severed at the neck, jewel bright blood welling up from the cut. Tythos looked at it, the shape and color of the head registering as the world sped back up for him.


    He knew that shape. The iridescent green of the scales. The familiar smell of decaying flowers and flesh. This was an emerald pit viper, and was as far out of place as the ironwood stump. Farther. It belonged on another world. Tythos remembered the jungle where he¡¯d encountered these snakes before.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it perfect?¡± The nightmare¡¯s voice interrupted his thoughts. ¡°You get it, right?¡±


    The nightmare scooped up the snapping head and swallowed it. Making a satisfied sound as it did. The head disappeared, and the nightmare squatted down, its face growing wider, until it resembled a fat toad. All except for its crocodile grin.


    ¡°The metaphor?¡± The nightmare said from where it squatted. ¡°You get it, don¡¯t you?¡±


    Tythos moved the shovel, and grabbed the snake¡¯s body, pulling it from the hole. It was almost three feet long. The decapitated snake twisted and writhed, wrapping around his arm after he pulled it free. He stabbed the shovel back in front of the hole. There would be more snakes in there. The emerald pit viper¡¯s venom caused a festering rot. A single bite could be survived by most men, however the snakes developed a deadly reputation from their aggressive pack behavior. They swarmed their victims.


    Tythos looked at the rising smoke he could see across his field. The Gladwell¡¯s would be cooking breakfast. They had a son and two daughters he had watched grow from nothing to knee high¡ª watched from a distance. There were almost a hundred people living in the valley, but only one of them who would speak to him.


    The exception was an old farmer by the name of Sagget. That man was the reason Tythos hadn¡¯t starved his first year here. Everyone in the valley knew the name Tythos, and kept their distance. His name conjured memories of war and turmoil, and the people of the valley wanted nothing to do with him.


    He felt responsible for the people here, despite his lack of status, and in spite of their lack of friendliness. He could¡¯ve negotiated a better lot for them, if he¡¯d been wiser. That chance was now gone, and calamity clung to him like a disease and infected everyone near. He¡¯d lost everything, even the freedom to explore the world. The pit vipers were a plague that would spread and kill most everything in the valley. They had no natural predator on this world. Except for one.


    Tythos looked at the creature beside him, seemingly made of smoke and bad dreams. He shook his head.


    The smell of the snakes had taken Tythos to another time. Another lifetime. He would clean out this nest of vipers before they spread. It was time to focus on what he could do. Even if that was simply cleaning up a mess that wouldn¡¯t be here if he wasn¡¯t.


    Tythos used his hook to pierce the snake skin, beginning a tear that allowed him to fold it back from the neck. He took the snake skin in his teeth, grabbing the flesh, and ripped the skin off, like taking off a sock. The skin tasted of blood with a bitter, chalky aftertaste. The skin would be useful if he cleaned and cured it. Tythos took a bite of the raw snake meat and chewed as he worked. The meat held a stronger tase of chalk, the flavor bitter and dirty. The nightmare shot him a disappointed look.


    ¡°I need to eat too,¡± Tythos said.


    The winter had been hard and stores were low. He would never mention his hardship to anyone, but he only had enough left for a meal every two days. This viper nest would be a boon if he could catch and kill them all. He walked back to the house, and pinned the skin up inside to dry. After he¡¯d torn off half the good flesh of the snake, he threw the rest to the nightmare. It still sat like a toad near the stump. A long black tongue shot out of its mouth and snapped the snake remains out of the air. Blood sprayed the ground behind it, and the flesh disappeared into its black form. The creature could interact with the dead or dying, but never swallowed the blood.


    Tythos wiped his bloody hand on his shirt and went back to the shovel. It was shaping up to be a long day, but at least he had food in his stomach. If he could dig down far enough, he could smoke the vipers out. Tythos smiled and began to hum a simple tune Mr Sagget had taught him. The nightmare eyed him as he worked.


    ¡°You¡¯re not actually going to dig that up, are you? It¡¯ll take you all week.¡±


    Tythos snorted, ¡°If I¡¯m lucky, it¡¯ll only take a week.¡±


    Tythos continued to work, striking the heads off two more snakes and giving them the same treatment. He split the meat of each with the nightmare, the ground growing more bloody where it squatted. He began to feel cheerful as the morning wore on. He had a full stomach and something that needed doing. This seemed to irritate the nightmare. His levity would have driven it off to wander the property, if he wasn¡¯t feeding it. This amused him, so he kept feeding it. After the seventh snake, the nightmare spoke up.


    ¡°Someone¡¯s here,¡± it said.


    Tythos didn¡¯t look up. It would be Mr Sagget. No one else visited him. He also couldn¡¯t spare the attention now that several holes were exposed. The viper nest was beginning to come alive. The lingering chill of the morning made the snakes sluggish. As the day warmed, they¡¯d become quicker, and more dangerous. The sound of horses approaching caught his attention. No one in the valley owned horses.


    No one in the valley owned anything, they themselves were property, belonging to the king. No one in the valley had horses. Horses meant soldiers and tax collectors, working for the local seigneur. He kept working, not sparing a glance for the approaching group. He heard the riders reign up in his yard. The nightmare stood, unfolding from where it squatted, interested in the newcomers. Its form rolled upward, until it was no longer toad shaped, once again looking like a tall, thin man.


    They wouldn¡¯t be able to see the creature. Tythos could because it was tied to his soul. Bound by a pact he had made in his youth for the power to take the throne. The power to change things. He had failed. Now he was stuck with the nightmare¡¯s constant company, cut off from the power.


    One of the snakes slithered from a hole. It rose and opened its mouth, then spat at him. Two jets of venom shot toward Tythos. Tythos held his breath and side stepped the spray of poison. Glistening droplets of venom hung in the air, a mist of toxins that would seize up the lungs and blind the eyes. He threw the shovelful of dirt he held at the viper and leapt onto the stump. The snake recoiled and darted up the side of the hole, following his movement. Tythos crouched, and stabbed the shovel down in front of the active hole, so he would only have to deal with one. The snake coiled and struck, its movement a blur. Tythos slapped at the strike on instinct¡­ with the hand he no longer had. He braced for the impact and the pain, ready to pay for his mistake. He hadn¡¯t trained or fought since losing his hand, and now he was about to pay for that neglect. The impact didn¡¯t come. He brought the hook up and saw it had pierced the snake behind the head, right where he had tried to grab it.


    ¡°I bet you couldn¡¯t do that again if you tried,¡± said the nightmare.


    Tythos stood to face the newcomers, a snapping serpent impaled on his hook. It coiled its body around his arm, trying to free itself. Tythos looked the lead rider in the eye and bit through the snake¡¯s neck. He could feel the spine crunch between his teeth. He tore the head off and spat it in the dirt.


    The group looked unsettled, and they weren¡¯t what Tythos had expected. They were neither wearing the red of king¡¯s men, nor the silver of the tax guild. Five riders held reign in the yard, a group of four, accompanied by a man in a green cloak with a large black bird on his shoulder. A hunter. He would be their guide. Which meant they had come from beyond the valley, further even than the local fort. The lead rider was a tall woman in half plate. Tythos recognized her. He fixed her with a glare as blood ran down his chin into his beard. She was the woman who took his hand.


    The woman in the lead dismounted, standing straight, with the bearing of a king¡¯s soldier. Her armor gleamed in the morning sun, polished and unmarked, except for a thin layer of road dust. She stood nearly seven feet tall, with thick legs and arms, wearing the kind of muscle that came from a lifetime of hard work. If not for the armor, she would have looked like a well fed farm hand. She had a wide face, with a high brow and a flat nose. Her brown hair was cut short, and her eyes flashed a challenge as she strode forward.


    She approached Tythos, who still stood on the stump. She stopped outside the garden, eyeing the mound of dirt and the blood on the ground. Her gaze tracked up to his bare feet, then to the threadbare clothes he wore, bloodstained and dirty. She looked at the snake coiled around his arm and raised an eyebrow. A twitch of an expression. Then she looked at his beard, and he watched her face for contempt. Her expression remained impassive. The expression of a soldier who¡¯d had obedience drilled into them the king¡¯s way. She met his eye.


    Even standing on the stump, he had to look up. He spat on the ground in front of her, to let her know what he thought of seeing her again. The nightmare paced around her, circling like death. It eyed her with a hungry smile, smoke dripping from its mouth like drool. The smoke hissed as it hit the ground, sizzling and wafting up, disappearing back into the creature¡¯s body. It left no footprints, and made no marks in its passage, but as it circled, the woman kept glancing to the side, as if she¡¯d caught sight of something. She began to look uneasy, her stone mask of an expression slipping. She locked her gaze on a point behind Tythos¡¯s head and addressed him.


    ¡°Your service is required by your king,¡± she said, with the air of a practiced speech. ¡°By command of the king, you will be accompanying us to¡ª¡° Tythos cut her off before she could get going.


    ¡°No,¡± he said, his voice overpowering hers. ¡°When I gave Rupert his life and handed him back the throne, I fulfilled more lifetimes of service than he deserves. The agreement was: I¡¯d retire. Look¡­¡±


    Tythos gestured expansively at his land. It stood out from the rest of the valley, everything inside the border of his property withered or dead. The rest of the valley held life, evergreens, grass, buzzing insects, chirping birds and the verdant new growth of spring. In a sharp line that demarcated the edge of his property, there was only cracked dry earth, dead trees, and dust.


    Tythos continued. ¡°I¡¯m happily farming, retired. Feel free to take my tribute of dust back to Rupert.¡± Tythos looked down at the snake he held. ¡°I suppose I¡¯m growing snakes now too¡ª here!¡± Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    He threw the snake at the woman. She flinched, and the nightmare slid in front of her while the snake was in flight. It contorted, its mouth opening like a large fish and it swallowed the serpent whole. Blood sprayed across the front of her plate, and droplets spattered her face, but no other sign of the snake remained. She blinked in surprise and looked around. She opened her mouth, looking a question at Tythos, but it died on her tongue. She closed her mouth and wiped the blood from her face with a look of disgust.


    ¡°The future of the kingdom is at peril! The king has ordered your service. You will be to coming with us to reforge the¡ª¡° Tythos cut her off again.


    ¡°No,¡± Tythos glowered at her. ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± He raised his iron hook and waggled it at her. ¡°If I recall, I already gave you a hand.¡± He looked her up and down. ¡°You seem to be doing well enough. You earning your coin for all that food and fancy steel, by selling tickets to see it?¡±


    Her face reddened. She looked furious. He stepped off the stump and picked up the shovel, turning his back on her. He resumed digging, and spoke without looking up from the work.


    ¡°I¡¯m too old to care anymore. The whole kingdom can burn. I¡¯m just a farmer. The agreement was, I¡¯d be left alone.¡±


    The woman behind him stood quiet, except for the clink of armor as she shifted. Tythos moved several shovelfuls. A viper burst from the stump and darted up out of the hole. Headed away from Tythos. The snakes had all come after him up until this point. This one was trying to escape, and caught him off guard. He couldn¡¯t let one get away.


    He threw the shovel in front of the retreating snake and lunged for it. The serpent jerked back, and Tythos caught hold of its tail. It turned to strike, but Tythos was already moving. He whipped the snake over his head. Its head struck the dirt. The soft dirt barely stunned the creature and it began to coil again, fangs bared. Tythos whipped it back the other direction and this time it impacted the stump. Its head crunched, and some of the fight went out of it. Tythos tried again, swinging it faster this time. The snake¡¯s head made a sound like a cracking whip as it slapped against the ironwood.


    Another bright green head poked out from the stump. It tested the air with its tongue. Tythos dropped the broken snake, and grabbed the shovel. He stabbed down, and sparks ignited from the impact. Too high. The shovel hit the stump before catching the snake, and the head disappeared back inside. The shovel sunk into the ground. The snake with the broken head writhed in the dirt, opening and closing a mouth that no longer worked right. Growling, Tythos grabbed it behind the head.


    ¡°Tythos Tyrannous Rex,¡± the tall woman almost shouted the title, like a herald announcing someone in court. ¡°By the authority granted me by King Rupert the Third, I¡ª unit commander Wellbourn¡ª hereby take charge of you, and order you to accompany me to Thonos Gap, to reforge the Pact of Shadows¡ª¡°


    ¡°What?¡± Tythos roared. He felt weight from her words settle on him. King Rupert had given her authority to affect the agreement. ¡°You idiots broke the pact? What did you do, try to kill one of the dragons?¡±


    ¡°Dragons?¡± She looked confused for a moment, then shot him a pitying look. ¡°I was told you might spout nonsense. Now, you will receive remuneration for your service in the form of¡­¡±


    The woman continued to talk, but Tythos couldn¡¯t hear her over the ringing in his ears. Something fell at his feet. He glanced at it. A broken snake head. He looked at the snake in his hand. He¡¯d squeezed the head off. He hadn¡¯t noticed. Tythos dropped the body of the snake. They¡¯d broken the pact, then sent someone who didn¡¯t even know where she was ordering him to go, to send him back.


    Back into the dark with the creatures. Back into the madness. He¡¯d gone into that black once, spent years in it, and given away part of himself to try and change things. When he¡¯d come back, he started a war to try and win people their freedom. When he¡¯d given it to them, they¡¯d used their freedom to tear each other apart. It had all been for nothing. Now, they thought they could order him to go back. He woudln¡¯t do it. He would rather die here, and take this messenger with him.


    Tythos looked at the tall woman in her pristine armor. She stood there, speaking, holding something out, but all he saw was her face. The corners of his vision turned red. She had ordered him to accompany her, but stipulated nothing about safety. If he killed her and took the body with him, it would fall within the terms she had spoken. Tythos strode toward her, and she faltered in whatever she was saying. She reached for her sword. Tythos grinned.


    Darkness filled his vision. Tythos paused, blinking. The nightmare took a step back from where it had stood, occluding his vision with its body. It had taken the form of a black wall and now contorted back into the rough shape of a man.


    ¡°Wait,¡± the nightmare waved its claws. Its voice spoke in his head, clear even over the ringing in his ears. ¡°Wait, don¡¯t kill her, not yet. Look, look what she brought.¡±


    The nightmare swiped a claw at his head, like a slap. It passed straight through, the only thing marking its passage was a strange sensation. It felt like a splash of cold water, underneath his skin. The nightmare stepped aside and gestured at the thing the woman held. It contorted its body into a large black arrow, and pointed with it.


    ¡°Calm down and look, damn you.¡±


    Tythos closed his eyes, picturing the next few moments, how he would kill her: The giant of a warrior stood at the edge of the garden in her gleaming armor. He stood six feet away from her, among the neat rows of tilled earth, ready for planting. She reached for the long sword on her back, holding something before her like a talisman, as if trying to ward him off. He leapt forward before she could draw the weapon, closing the distance in less than a second. Beside her now, he lashed out with a powerful kick to the side of her knee. The armor she wore reinforced the joint, affording some protection. But everything bent under enough pressure, even armor. The plated joints folded under the impact and her knee crumpled sideways, the joint shattering. She fell toward him, shock evident on her face. He caught her eye-socket with the hook attached to his arm and pulled, speeding her fall. She hit the ground hard, both arms out of position, unable to complete the draw of the sword. Before she finished landing he lashed out with a second kick, stamping down on her neck. The sharp crack sounded like a horses¡¯s leg breaking, a sound that signaled the end of her life. She still held a spark, but it would soon die, her body no longer responding to her will. She had made a mistake, thinking she could send him back, and now her life, and the lives of those who trespassed with her, were his. He looked up at the other four riders, grinning as battle lust filled him.


    Tythos opened his eyes. The tall woman stood at the edge of the garden, six feet in front of him. The nightmare stood beside her, still pointing at the object she held out. She had one hand on her sword pommel, a wary look on her face. Tythos felt calmer, after imagining her death. The ringing in his ears faded enough he could make out her words now.


    ¡°¡­And what¡¯s more, you will be granted your freedom and allowed to leave the king¡¯s border to the north.¡±


    Tythos turned his focus to what she held in her outstretched hand. Recognition splashed over him, colder than the touch of the nightmare. It was withered, and desiccated, a claw-like parody of what it had once been. It was his hand. The one he¡¯d given up to forge an agreement, in a final attempt to salvage what remained of a people who were tearing each other apart.


    ¡°Finally,¡± said the nightmare, sagging and fixing him with an intense stare. ¡°I thought you were going to kill her before you listened. You never listen to me. Do you see now? She¡¯s brought the authority to make a new agreement. Which would be about as useful as a severed dick in a whorehouse if you kill her first.¡±


    Tythos grimaced at that mental image and turned his attention to the people in front of him. The four riders flanking the woman looked down at him with expressions that ranged from shock, to disgust. They all recognized the title, and as he confirmed it they grew uneasy. The hunter, sitting his horse apart from the others, looked at him with open hatred. Tythos ignored them and focused on the woman holding his hand.


    ¡°Do you agree?¡± The woman asked.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t listening,¡± Tythos said. ¡°I don¡¯t care about the kingdom and I don¡¯t care about the details. I¡¯m not agreeing to anything with the king¡¯s name in it, so let¡¯s start over.¡±


    The nightmare cleared its throat and raised a single black claw in the air, its focus behind Tythos. ¡°Right foot,¡± it said.


    Tythos jerked his foot up, and stamped down, the timing perfect to trap the head of a striking viper beneath his heel. The snake writhed, the dirt beneath his foot too soft to crush its head. He reached down and grabbed the serpent behind its head, then lifted his heel and picked it up. He turned back to the tall woman. Her mouth hung open, her eyes on the emerald pit viper he held. She closed her mouth and looked up, narrowing her eyes at him.


    ¡°You weren¡¯t listening?¡± She asked.


    ¡°No,¡± Tythos squeezed the deadly creature until it stopped struggling. ¡°And I won¡¯t make an agreement with Rupert through a proxy. You¡¯re the one standing here, so you make an agreement.¡±


    Tythos tossed the lifeless serpent to the nightmare, who snapped it out of the air. The woman followed the movement, beginning to draw her sword. She looked worried, as this one disappeared as well. Tythos reached up and unfastened the leather straps on his arm, letting them and the iron hook fall to the dirt.


    ¡°I will go with you and help you, if you agree to give me back my hand.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all you want?¡± The woman looked at the hand she held, suspicion on her face. ¡°The agreement with the king I already spoke, came with status, gold, freedom, and the hand, upon completion.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Tythos began to turn away, towards the stump. ¡°If you and I aren¡¯t making an agreement now, I¡¯m done. I got things to do.¡±


    ¡°Sigrun, just throw a sack over his head and let¡¯s carry him out,¡± called one of the party behind the woman. ¡°God, it stinks here! If we linger any longer this smell will get into my clothes.¡±


    ¡°You will address me as unit commander!¡± The woman barked. ¡°Now hold your tongue! He has already agreed to come with us.¡± She lowered her voice. ¡°I will agree to give you the hand. That was part of the first agreement. If you¡¯d listened, we woudln¡¯t need to go over this again. You¡¯ve got to promise to come with me, and help me, and complete the king¡¯s task. When finished, you will receive payment.¡±


    ¡°Oh my,¡± the nightmare said. ¡°She doesn¡¯t know what she¡¯s doing. Someone really stuck their dick in it by letting her bring the hand. Try to get her to agree to give me her soul. I¡¯ve always wanted one of those¡ª just as a keepsake.¡±


    Tythos smiled. He schooled his face back into a scowl before turning back to her.


    ¡°First swear on your name to give me back my hand, and then I will swear on mine to come with you, making it binding.¡±


    The woman stood straighter. ¡°I, Sigrun Wellbourn, so swear, to give you, Tythos, back your hand, if you agree to come with me and swear to help me¡ª¡°


    ¡°I agree,¡± Tythos interjected. Before she could say anything, he followed up. ¡°I Tythos swear to go with you and help you: thus completing our agreement and forging our pact.¡± He grinned. ¡°You¡¯ve got to front-load clauses and conditions if you want them to take effect.¡±


    Tythos stepped forward and held out his stump. ¡°Shake on it?¡±


    Sigrun stared at Tythos. The look on her face said she thought this was childish.


    ¡°Nice try,¡± she shook her head. ¡°Payment upon completion. My orders were clear on this point. Now, if you¡¯d like to actually discuss terms, I will still give you the details and am authorized to promise status, gold and¡­¡±


    She froze, a look of shock on her face. Tythos felt like a heavy cloak had been set on his shoulders. Sigrun would be feeling the same, as the weight of authority in their agreement settled on them both. The weight added to what Tythos already carried, causing a conflict with the old agreement. As the layers clashed, the weight on him increased, until he felt like he had a horse on his shoulders. Then the annulment clause in the old agreement was reached, and the pressure released as the old one broke; releasing him. The air between them shimmered, reflecting light like a mirage. Sigrun took a step back, alarm on her face. Then the air above all of Tythos¡¯s land began to shimmer as the old agreement dissolved. Standing in the middle of dissolving authority felt nauseating, as if the rising vapor in the air was pure dizziness, distilled to a point it could be inhaled. The world began to spin and tumble around Tythos and he closed his eyes and waited. He heard Sigrun become sick, and cries of alarm rose from the party behind her. One of the horses screamed, and there was a thump. It sounded like the horse had fallen over. The sound of retreating hoofbeats confirmed this a moment later. The storm passed, and Tythos took a deep breath, then opened his eyes.


    Sigrun was doubled over, panting and spitting. Three riders had been unhorsed, two trying to settle spooked mounts, one laying on the ground. The hunter sill sat his horse, draped in his green cloak, his big black bird on his shoulder. His horse stamped and was wild-eyed, but he looked unmoved. He continued to glare at Tythos with hate in his eyes. The black bird on his shoulder glared at him as well. Tythos figured he would have to kill that man before this was over. He looked at the rest of the party he would be traveling with.


    The one on the ground sat up, long black hair spilling down their back. Tythos caught a glimpse of delicate features as they got up. Tythos wondered at this. Had a young girl been sent as party to escort him across the country? The other two weren¡¯t what he expected either.


    A short one in a heavy cloak was wrestling with a horse and being pulled around. A tall, ascetic looking man with short blond hair, held two horses. He looked like he¡¯d be more at home in a king¡¯s court, giving orders. These were not the people Tythos would have expected Rupert to send for him. A thousand men with spears, maybe. Something about this was out of place. Tythos turned his attention back to Sigrun.


    She spat once more, and stood straight; her expression either angry, or alarmed. On her broad face they looked about the same.


    ¡°What was that?¡± She asked, her tone accusing.


    The nightmare walked around behind her and put a claw on her shoulder.


    ¡°That¡¯s cute,¡± the nightmare said. ¡°I¡¯d tell you that was nicely done, but with her grasp of authority, that was more like drowning a puppy, than wrestling a bear. And you didn¡¯t even get her to throw in her soul.¡±


    The nightmare tisked, like a disapproving grandmother. An odd sound to hear coming from such a monstrous face. Its grin widened, looking at Sigrun like a crocodile watching an approaching meal.


    ¡°That was our agreement, taking effect,¡± Tythos said. ¡°Now, my hand?¡±


    Sigrun shook her head. Tythos felt sure the look on her face was anger this time.


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°I told you, payment upon completion.¡±


    She opened a sack tied to her belt, and made to stuff the hand in. Tythos stepped forward, holding out his stump. Sigrun looked up and reached for her sword again.


    ¡°Don¡¯t come any closer,¡± Sigrun said. She had the voice of a commander, but none of the party she had come with were paying attention.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Tythos said. ¡°Then my hand will come to me.¡±


    With this, the nightmare poured itself headfirst into the hand. The hand absorbed its black form like a sponge, twitching and jerking. Sigrun looked down at it, her eyes wide. A bar of liquid black shot from the hand and connected to Tythos¡¯s outstretched arm. It solidified in an instant, becoming the blade of a black sword. Sigrun cried out and jerked her hand back, and as she did, something fell to the dirt. She took a step back, drawing the greatsword on her back and a dirk from her belt in one smooth motion. Tythos stepped in, black sword pointed at her throat. She brought the dirk up, its blade clashing with the black one. This should have pushed the black blade out of position and given her room to use her sword, but Tythos reinforced the blade with an effort of will. It felt like lifting a heavy weight with something deep inside of him. The dirk passed through the black sword, the steel shearing through in a neat line as it did. Half the blade fell to the ground as Tythos placed the point of the sword under her chin. The party saw what was happening and reached for weapons, letting go of the horses.


    ¡°Nobody move!¡± Tythos shouted.


    The party froze, hands on weapons, as another one of their horses beat a path back to the main road. The hunter still sat his horse, a glare locked on Tythos. The black bird on his shoulder opened its beak and spoke, its voice sounded like a man holding his nose.


    ¡°There¡¯s trouble,¡± the bird said.


    ¡°Ooo,¡± the nightmare said in his mind. ¡°A bird that can state the obvious. When you kill him, I want to keep the bird.¡±


    ¡°Where I come from,¡± Tythos said, ¡°It¡¯s custom to clasp hands to seal a pact.¡± He raised his voice so they could all hear him. ¡°I¡¯ve sworn to come with you, and help you.¡±


    Tythos stepped forward. He applied his will once again, and the black sword changed length as he moved. The point remained steady, resting under Sigrun¡¯s chin, as he bent and retrieved what had fallen to the dirt. He stepped up to her, letting her chin lower enough she could see his outstretched gesture. She dropped the broken dirk, and took his hand. They clasped, and Tythos left what he¡¯d retrieved in her palm.


    ¡°Good,¡± Tythos said. ¡°We have an agreement.¡±


    He removed the black sword, and it shrank until it became a hand. It looked like his other hand now, fleshed out, scarred and calloused. The skin of it was the right texture, showing lines and pores, but the color of it was wrong. Its surface didn¡¯t catch the sunlight, instead, the light passed through, like was made of smoke. It seemed to have an odd depth, as if the light fell on something deeper inside. Tythos flexed the fingers of his hand, rolling his wrist. The movement was painful, long disused muscle and tendons tight and straining with the motion. He enjoyed the feeling for a moment. This was turning into a good day. Tythos smiled up at Sigrun, who was looking at the object in her hand with horror.


    She held her own severed finger. Her ring finger, severed just below the second knuckle. It twitched in her palm. Neither the cut on her hand, nor the finger, bled. Skin was grown over the wounds on each. It looked like she¡¯d been missing the digit for years. Tythos knew from experience, the finger she¡¯d lost would live for a couple days to a week. Then it would behave like a normal severed finger and begin to rot.


    ¡°If you get that to a skilled healer in the next week,¡± Tythos said. ¡°They can probably reattach it. Now, I just have three things to do, and I¡¯ll be ready to leave.¡±


    He turned his back on her and walked towards the stump. He didn¡¯t see any snakes.


    ¡°Did any of them get away?¡± Tythos asked the nightmare.


    ¡°Not that I saw,¡± the nightmare said in his head. ¡°Although I was distracted for a moment. There was one creeping up on you, until the authority began to dissolve. When that happened, it fled back into the den.¡± The nightmare started laughing. ¡°Have you ever seen a dizzy snake try to run?¡±


    ¡°Snakes don¡¯t run, they crawl.¡±


    ¡°Oh whatever, you know what I mean. It spun as it slithered, like a little corkscrew. It was adorable.¡±


    ¡°Your mind¡¯s like a little corkscrew. Could you power a sigil right now, or do we have to do this the hard way?¡±


    ¡°Of course I can. Just who the hell do you think I am?¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± Sigrun called from behind. ¡°Why do I feel like I¡¯m wearing a cloak I can¡¯t see? What did you do to me?¡±


    ¡°Look at her,¡± said the nightmare. ¡°You could have gotten her to throw in her soul, but you were only thinking of yourself. You are the most selfish person I¡¯ve ever met.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m the only person you¡¯ve ever met, quit your bitching.¡±


    ¡°Even so, I¡¯ll never forgive you.¡±


    Tythos turned his attention to the ironwood stump, and the smooth hard surface of its top. With an application of will, he formed one of the fingers on the black hand into a claw. The effort felt like lifting a weight with a sore muscle. Making the sword he had used a moment before had pulled on something inside of him. Now he was tired. Manifesting a claw should not be so difficult. He was out of shape.


    Ignoring the pain and fatigue, he began to carve on the surface of the stump using the claw. It carved into the wood with as little effort as drawing in the soft dirt with a finger. Aware the reprieve from the emerald pit vipers would be short lived, he worked fast, drawing a familiar symbol. He¡¯d drawn this symbol thousands of times. He covered the largest area he could, and still make its geometry perfect.


    ¡°Are you sure you want to make it this big?¡± The nightmare asked. ¡°One a tenth this size would be more than enough.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to miss a single snake,¡± Tythos said. ¡°Besides, we¡¯re about to be stuck with this group of people and I want to make a point.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t want to miss a snake? You do remember how balefire works don¡¯t you? You¡¯re being needlessly flamboyant¡ª what am I saying? Far be it for me to play the voice of reason¡ª by all means, draw it bigger.¡±


    Tythos finished and inspected his work. He didn¡¯t want to suffer the consequences of powering an imperfect sigil. Satisfied, he placed the black hand on the sigil.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Tythos said.


    He waited. Nothing happened.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Tythos said again, growing irritated.


    ¡°Okay what?¡±


    ¡°You know what, power the sigil.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t say the magic words,¡± sang the nightmare.


    ¡°Goddamnit, I hate this sack of crap. Just power it and let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    ¡°If you deepened your bond with me, you could do it yourself. Until then, I get to make the rules, and the rule is: you¡¯ve got to say the words.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Tythos growled. He muttered the next phrase, so only the nightmare could hear him. ¡°Burn baby burn.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t hear you,¡± sang the nightmare.


    Tythos ground his teeth for a moment, then gave in and shouted,


    ¡°BURN BABY BURN!¡±


    The lines carved into the surface of the stump began to fill with liquid light, like glowing quicksilver being poured in from where he¡¯d placed the black hand. The light glowed with such intensity, it hurt to look at. He withdrew his hand and walked away, setting a ground eating pace, not quite a jog. He passed Sigrun, who was shielding her eyes against the glare coming from the stump.


    ¡°You¡¯ll wanna back up,¡± Tythos said as he passed. He raised his voice and addressed the group. ¡°I¡¯ll wait at the next farm over while you gather your horses. I got some things to settle.¡± He pointed up the road as he continued striding away from the stump.


    ¡°Brace for impact,¡± said the nightmare. ¡°In three, two, one¡­¡±


    The sound of thunder exploded from behind and Tythos set his feet. A moment after the boom, a wave of pressure hit him. It pushed him forward and he leaned into it, keeping his feet under him as it carried him several steps. The people in front of him were all knocked flat, including the hunter, who hit the ground and rolled. Tythos glanced back, shielding his face with a hand from the heat.


    A towering column of green fire rose into the sky. The rounded bar of green looked solid until his eyes adjusted, and he saw sinuous ropes of green fire, spiraling upward as the flames climbed higher. Overhead, the green bar pierced a cloud, pushing the shreds of white far away in a moment. Tythos grimaced at the now clear blue sky, as the green light winked out. It seemed to be a darker blue surrounding where the balefire had been, and for a moment he thought he saw stars.


    He glanced down at the empty, blackened crater where the stump had been. Every trace of it had been erased. The wall of the log house beside the crater glowed cherry red, the wood of its face cooked to coals by the heat. As he watched, they dimmed to black. Smoke poured from the wall as it blackened, but didn¡¯t rise. Instead, it behaved like water, pouring down onto the ground, then flowing into the crater in the garden. Then the wind began to blow. The smoke whipped upwards in a spiral, and dust poured in from across his fields to fill in the shape of a funnel.


    Tythos resumed walking as the wind tried to push him back to the farm. Once he reached the road, he looked back one last time. The wind whipped past him, toward where the balefire had been. The cyclone had stopped, but clouds were building on the horizon, piling up, and appeared to be getting ready to march on the valley.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Tythos eyed the approaching storm. ¡°I may have drawn it too big.¡±


    ***

 Chapter 2, Saying Goodbye

    Chapter 2


    Tythos stood at the edge of Mr Sagget¡¯s property, flexing the fingers of his black hand, hesitant to step over the line. He could see the farmer¡¯s neat log house from where he stood. Smoke rose from the chimney and the house looked well kept in a way he had never managed with his own. Mr Sagget had a way with the land and with building that remained elusive for Tythos, even after a decade of trying. A sharp pain in his chest accompanied a dull ache in his arm, indicating he had pushed himself by manifesting the sword and the claw so soon after reclaiming the hand. He didn¡¯t know what would happen when he stepped over the line onto mr Sagget¡¯s land.


    The nightmare wasn¡¯t able to cross this boundary, and was once again sharing a body with him. If he stepped over the line and it was ripped from him, the result could be fatal. Clouds had rolled in, turning the sky gray, casting the valley into an unseasonal gloom. The wind held a bite of cold, and a spitting snowfall begun, the sharp flakes of ice promising more to come.


    The crisp smell of the storm mingled with whisps of woodsmoke, reminding Tythos of a home long ago and far away.


    ¡°Are you going to kill them?¡± Asked the nightmare.


    ¡°Kill them?¡± Tythos looked around. He didn¡¯t see anyone nearby. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± His mind had been on the past, and the people of the north, who made their home in the frozen lands.


    ¡°I¡¯m talking about the fact you bound us to a group of halfwits, intent on dragging is halfway across the world and throwing us in hell.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not hell.¡±


    ¡°May as well be. You did a good job leaving the interpretation of how you help them vague. It¡¯s my firm belief the best way to do this, would be to kill them as soon as possible, saving them from the agony of living. The dead are better off than the living, and better still are those who have yet to be born.¡± The nightmare said this last with the air of quoting some ancient wisdom.


    Tythos shook his head and massaged his sore arm with his good hand. ¡°You know I don¡¯t buy into that crap.¡±


    ¡°Buy in? Oh, so life is but a game, and we play the hand we¡¯re dealt?¡±


    Tythos grunted, ¡°Sigrun should be able to hear you talk. She accused me of spouting nonsense.¡±


    ¡°That would be delicious, you¡¯re a lousy conversationalist.¡±


    ¡°You can forget about that.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re no fun. So what¡¯s your idea of helping, hmm? You¡¯re not actually going to go back, are you? I think it would be a lark, but I know how you feel on the subject.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna go with them, and make sure we never reach Thonos Gap.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like the sort of promise a young lover makes: ¡®Oh! I¡¯ll never let you go! Never!¡± The nightmare scoffed. ¡°Please. Just kill them and get it over with. I thought I got you over this angsty self-righteous stuff years ago. I¡¯m going on a walk. I¡¯m hungry.¡±


    Tythos felt a tug on his will and the black hand began to manifest into an object. Stunned by the absurdity of it, he watched it happen without setting his will against it. The black hand had never manifested without his will before.


    The hand became liquid black and poured itself into the figure of the nightmare. It filled out and formed into the tall humanoid figure, connected to Tythos¡¯s arm by one of its own arms. Tythos looked down, incredulous. It looked like they were holding hands.


    ¡°Now what, asshole?¡± Tythos glared at the black figure. ¡°I¡¯m not walking around like this.¡±


    ¡°Now you step over the line, and we see if it¡¯s a line I still can¡¯t cross.¡±


    Tythos looked down at the clear edge of the property. Where he stood, the dirt was cracked and parched. The dust on top, that hadn¡¯t blown away, was thin and powdery. On this side of the property line, nothing grew. On the other side, it was like another world. The ground was carpeted with lush grass, insects and small creatures roaming among the blades. The trees were thriving, and even the stones were green with moss. On his first visit to this property, the nightmare had stalked beside Tythos to meet the neighbors.


    They had encountered Mr Sagget. The man had grey hair and a slight stoop, causing him to look like one of the gnarled oaks that grew around the valley, knobby in the joints, with hard lines in rough skin. The man looked straight at the nightmare as they approached and spoke,


    ¡°By my name and my master, I cast you out! You are bound to never return!¡±


    The air shimmered with authority, then the nightmare shot backwards, as if swept away by a strong wind. From that moment, Tythos decided he liked this man. He would visit often, enjoying the peace that came from being away from the nightmare¡¯s presence. They would speak of farming and the weather, and sometimes Mr Sagget would share his opinion about something. Tythos never asked why this man¡ª here on the back end of nowhere¡ª held enough authority to banish the nightmare, or how he knew it was there. For his part, Mr Sagget never asked Tythos about his past, or brought up his own. At some point in the last decade, they had become friends. That friendship was the only thing Tythos had of value now.


    Tythos¡¯s reverie was broken by the dark thought, that the only thing he seemed to be able to do consistently, was leave behind everything he had that was of any value. Tythos stepped across the line, curious if this would kill him. He wasn¡¯t sure he minded if it did. If the Pact of Shadows was broken, he couldn¡¯t think of a reason he had to be alive. What he was sure about, was that he wasn¡¯t leaving the valley without saying goodbye to Mr Sagget.


    As he stepped across the line, a painful sensation passed over him, a sharp static current, like stepping beneath an icy waterfall, or like life returning to a limb that had lost feeling. As the sensation reached his hand, he again felt a pressure on his will, hot and sharp. In his focus, he let go of it, as if burned. Tythos and the nightmare took a step back from each other. They were no longer joined at the wrist.


    The nightmare looked at Tythos, its own eyes wide in evident surprise.


    ¡°Tally-ho Watson!¡± The nightmare shouted. ¡°The game is afoot!¡± The creature then bounded away.


    Tythos watched it go for a moment. ¡°Who the fuck is Watson?¡±


    ***


    The wind whipped the now thick snowfall as Tythos stepped onto the porch of the log house. With the wind and the snow, the chill had turned into a bitter, biting cold. The clouds overhead roiled and flashed with lightning, dark and heavy. Tythos couldn¡¯t see the sun anymore. The storm had shut the valley in, like closing the lid on a box.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Tythos pushed open the door to the house and stepped inside, announcing himself as he shut out the storm. The smell of pipe smoke led him through the gloom as his eyes adjusted. Mr Sagget sat by the fireplace, smoking a pipe and watching the fire. Tythos pulled up a wooden chair and sat beside him. The wind howled outside, but by some trick of the chimney¡¯s construction, the fire burned without guttering. Tythos shook his head at this simple marvel. When he¡¯d tried to fix his own chimney so he could have a fire on a windy day, his ¡°fix¡± made it so the chimney would no longer draw. Tythos had never lived in a house before being exiled to this valley, and he found caring for one a difficult and foreign task.


    Thinking of his arrival in the valley made Tythos feel anxious to leave, and trying to sit still felt onerous. He stood and looked at Mr Sagget, trying to find words to say, but failing.


    ¡°Strange weather for this time of year,¡± Mr Sagget raised one gray eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Tythos drew out the word, wondering how much the man knew. He hadn¡¯t considered the impact a late snow could have on the farmers in the valley. He had only been thinking of killing the snakes. ¡°This storm gonna hurt your crop?¡±


    Mr Sagget shook his head and blew a smoke ring. The firelight played over it as it traveled, then it seemed to vanish as it passed into shadow. ¡°I read the signs,¡± he said around his pipe. ¡°I knew there¡¯d be a late snow this year.¡±


    ¡°How could you possibly have¡­¡± Tythos trailed off, shaking his head. ¡°Listen, I gotta go on a trip. I don¡¯t know how long it¡¯ll take, or if I¡¯ll be coming back.¡±


    Mr Sagget nodded, as if this was news he already knew. Tythos couldn¡¯t tell if the man had read that in the signs too, or if he affected a knowing demeanor on the rare occasion he was surprised by something.


    ¡°I know the Gladwell¡¯s have been struggling,¡± Tythos continued. ¡°I want them to have my seed and my pigs. That should put them ahead a little.¡±


    ¡°Why you telling me?¡± Mr Sagget studied Tythos¡¯s face. ¡°Why don¡¯t you go tell them yourself?¡±


    ¡°You know why,¡± Tythos shifted, and tried to resist the urge to begin pacing.


    ¡°They may not take it like you think.¡±


    ¡°Anything they know comes from me, they¡¯ll throw away. My name¡¯s anathema to them.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a big word. I know you believe you¡¯re a curse¡ª¡°


    ¡°That¡¯s because I am. The only thing I¡¯ve ever done reliably, is kill everything around me.¡±


    Mr Sagget watched him for the time it took to blow two smoke rings. ¡°I¡¯ve watched you, you know,¡± he said. ¡°Watching their kids grow like you wish they was yours. Doing small things to help them, when they wasn¡¯t looking.¡± He sighed and tapped out his pipe. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of it for you.¡±


    Tythos nodded. ¡°Thank you, Mr Sagget.¡±


    ¡°How many times I gotta tell you, call me John.¡±


    ¡°You tell me again when I see you next,¡± Tythos looked down at his black hand. After the nightmare had run off, it had faded and was little more than a suggestion of a hand at the end of his arm. It looked more like an outline, than something real. Like smoke in shadows.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do that,¡± Mr Sagget said. ¡°You watch yourself. Signs say there¡¯s trouble brewing.¡±


    Tythos nodded. Not sure what else to say, he walked back out into the storm, to meet the party he¡¯d be traveling with on the road.


    ***


    With the wind, the cold was bracing. After shouldering his way through it for several hundred steps, Tythos began to adjust to it, heat coming from his core and warming his limbs with movement. It felt good. His skin stung and the cold licked at him like a flame, burning with its touch before his internal heat washed it away. He took a deep breath, and his lungs ached with the bitter cold. He smiled and breathed out a plume that began to form ice in his beard. A tall dark figure fell in step beside him as he walked.


    ¡°You look like a yak,¡± said the nightmare. ¡°Your mustache all full of ice like that. It¡¯s like a frozen booger you never wiped away.¡± It pointed with a long black claw. ¡°You might just want to¡ª right there, you have a little¡­¡±


    ¡°Thought you were going for a walk,¡± said Tythos.


    ¡°I was, I mean, I did¡ª are you really not going to wipe that away? It¡¯s bothering me, hanging there like that.¡±


    ¡°So why are you back?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just going to ignore it? Fine. See if I ever tell you when you have something on your face. Barbarian.¡±


    Tythos cleared his throat. The nightmare sighed.


    ¡°I found something to eat, so now I¡¯m back. Also, I can¡¯t leave. We seem to still be bound together. I got about two miles out and found the limit of our tether.¡±


    ¡°How are we still bound? You have the hand now, and you separated from my will¡ª I can¡¯t even feel your presence.¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­ well, that may be a little part of why I¡¯m back so soon. I need you to take back the hand. Sooner rather than later¡ª if you don¡¯t mind¡ª it¡¯s beginning to pull me apart.¡±


    Tythos glanced over at the nightmare. It did look less substantial than he was used to. He could see through its black form and tendrils of smoke were tearing away from it with the wind. He watched as one was pulled free by a gust and blew away. Tythos stopped walking.


    ¡°Give me one good reason why I shouldn¡¯t just let you blow away.¡±


    The creature pointed at Tythos¡¯s chest. ¡°You¡¯re looking less than substantial yourself. What happens to me, still happens to you.¡±


    Tythos held up his hand of flesh. The nightmare was right. He could see through his hand now. He shrugged and looked at the creature.


    ¡°Not good enough,¡± he said. ¡°The world would be better off without both of us.¡± He woudln¡¯t say so aloud, but blowing away in a storm of his own making might be the most fitting end he could think of. He wondered if this would destroy his soul, and prevent him from having to answer to the Hall. Not having to face his ancestors and atone forever for his failure would be a better end than he could hope for. With that thought, oblivion sounded rather nice.


    ¡°You may no longer be bound to stay in this valley and on this world, but I recall you recently bound us to accompany some fool on a journey. You can¡¯t let us blow away. Now open up your will and let me come back¡ª this stings!¡±


    Tythos narrowed his eyes at the nightmare. He could feel that it was right. The authority had already begun to pull apart his will and force him to accept the nightmare¡¯s presence. If he let it force him to act he¡¯d suffer damage. Someone bound by authority and trying to resist, could become a mindless slave to their oath. It would hollow them out, destroying their will, leaving them dead inside. Their mind and body still functioned, but with no will, they would only do what they were told. This was true to such an extreme, that someone so broken could be sat at a feast, and they would sit unmoving until they died, unless told to eat and drink. The exceptions were those whose oaths required them to care for themselves. Even if short lived, it was a fate worse than death.


    Tythos opened his will and allowed the nightmare to slither back in. He could feel the spiritual pressure of it, moving and squirming around inside of him, until it coiled up in its usual spot. His hand gained substance, becoming more solid, and the nightmare¡¯s presence returned to his mind.


    ¡°Wait,¡± the nightmare said in his thoughts. ¡°You were enjoying that? What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you enjoy the feeling of being slowly obliterated?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not a conversation we¡¯re having.¡± The creature had access to his mind, but it could only read his emotions, not his thoughts. It spoke in his mind, but he had to speak aloud for it to hear.


    Now that the snow was no longer blowing through him, Tythos headed for the road to wait for the party. As he got moving, Tythos noticed he felt good. Like he¡¯d had several days of rest and some good meals.


    ¡°What did you do while you were¡­ out?¡± Tythos asked. He hadn¡¯t been that separated from the creature since they¡¯d first bonded. He remembered what it had been before he¡¯d bonded it. ¡°Did you eat someone?¡±


    ¡°It was no one you wouldn¡¯t have let me eat if you had been there.¡±


    ¡°You ate someone?¡±


    Tythos froze mid-step. The nightmare had not been real enough to affect a person since he had lost the hand. And now it had walked off into the valley¡ª his valley¡ª without him. He felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold.


    ¡°Who was it?¡±


    ¡°Nobody, really.¡±


    ¡°WHO,¡± Tythos began shouting. ¡°DID, YOU, EAT?¡±


    He could feel the creature sulk.


    ¡°There¡¯s no need to be rude. He was wearing the king¡¯s colors.¡±


    So it wasn¡¯t a farmer. That was good.


    ¡°One of Endelmyer¡¯s men? You know that¡¯ll bring shit down on the valley. The farmers will be blamed if a man goes missing in the valley.¡±


    He could not let the creature pull away and wander free again. He had nearly forgotten why he had given up the hand in the first place.


    ¡°No. Not one of his. Wrong livery. Looked like a scout from the actual army; reminded me of the good ole days.¡±


    ¡°The king¡¯s army?¡± This could be worse than one of Endelmyer¡¯s men going missing. ¡°What reason would the king have to send men this far south?¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to say that every time you get an idea. Spit it out.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the reason why. They¡¯re either here to escort you, or to kill you.¡±


    ***

 Chapter 3, Meet the Party

    The wind and the snow died down as Tythos walked onto the road. A glance at the clouds told him that the storm wasn¡¯t done, it was only getting started.


    ¡°Oh good,¡± said the Nightmare. ¡°We¡¯re in the eye of the storm. That¡¯s so appropriate I just got chills.¡±


    Tythos ignored this as he looked down the road. His breath plumed out in front of him, and he let out a chuckle at the thought he¡¯d been sweating under the sun less than an hour ago.


    ¡°Really?¡± Said the Nightmare. ¡°That¡¯s what gets a laugh out of you? A joke about the weather? Are you finally developing a sense of humor?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Tythos asked, shaking his head. ¡°I wasn¡¯t listening.¡±


    ¡°Great, you¡¯re so hilarious in your own mind, that you can¡¯t even be bothered to listen to what I have to say. You sure do know how to make a creature feel wanted.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not wanted.¡±


    ¡°See? That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m talking about. We¡¯ve got to work on your taciturn abrasiveness. If it wasn¡¯t for me, and my long-suffering friendship, you¡¯d be all alone.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going by creature now? I might use that.¡±


    The Nightmare let out an exaggerated sigh. ¡°It¡¯s not like you¡¯ve left me many options. Just agree to let me tell you what I am, you stubborn brute.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°But it would make everything so much easier. We could work together in ways you haven¡¯t even dreamed about.¡±


    ¡°Your options are, Nightmare, Creature, or Demon.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve told you, I¡¯m not a demon.¡±


    ¡°Telling me what you¡¯re not is skirting the edge of the agreement.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Nightmare or Creature, I don¡¯t care. It¡¯s a miracle we¡¯re still around, with your willful ignorance.¡±


    Tythos grunted. He could see the party in the distance, making their way down the road. They rode hunched in their saddles, huddled in cloaks. They looked cold. Tythos took pleasure at this and stood taller, a smile on his face. His thin clothing did little to protect against the cold, and he was going to make sure the party saw this when they reached him.


    ¡°Thin blooded southerners,¡± Tythos muttered.


    ¡°Ah yes, let¡¯s judge everybody by how well they handle the cold. I forgot that your brain froze a long time ago.¡±


    Tythos ignored the nightmare, watching the five riders approach. Sigrun was the one only one wearing armor. The others, excepting the hunter, didn¡¯t look like they were experienced with riding. They didn¡¯t look like soldiers at all. Who were these people who¡¯d been sent to fetch him?


    ¡°We need to talk,¡± said the nightmare.


    ¡°No we don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°We really do. If we¡¯re going back, you need to consider deepening our bond. Neither of us would survive a second trip, otherwise.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be unreasonable. Listen, now that we have the hand, we could connect more fully, and then we wouldn¡¯t have to share a body all the time.¡±


    Tythos didn¡¯t reply.


    ¡°All you have to do is share your soul with me and I can walk around¡ª¡°


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s completely painless, and you would benefit from this as well.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t warm to blood magic.¡±


    The nightmare let out a deep sigh. ¡°Your archaic superstition about ¡®blood magic¡¯ is so¡­ so stubbornly pig-headed, that I don¡¯t even have the words.¡±


    Tythos snorted. ¡°Very eloquent. You¡¯ve outdone yourself.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, I can¡¯t be witty all the time. You wouldn¡¯t even know what eloquent meant if it weren¡¯t for me.¡±


    ¡°And how I¡¯m better for it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to talk to you if you keep being rude.¡±


    ¡°Promises, promises.¡±


    Tythos eyed the approaching party, huddled against the cold. Crippled by it. Their bodies too weak to hold their warmth. All except the hunter. He sat tall, his black bird not in evidence.


    ¡°All I¡¯m saying, is that you¡¯re wrong about blood magic and about deepening our bond, and if you¡¯d only listen¡­¡±


    Tythos tuned the nightmare out. It continued to talk, but he treated it as wind in the trees. Letting the noise become a background.


    Tythos felt more sure now, as he watched them, this group was not military. Sigrun had been a palace guard when Tythos had taken the throne. Or maybe it had been a squire. He wasn¡¯t sure. When the king had the throne back, he would have slapped her with an honorific and kept her close, as the holder of the hand. Had she run away? Who was this group with her, and why did the army have scouts sneaking around the valley?


    The party reigned up in front of Tythos, Sigrun in the lead. She looked angry. She also looked like she was trying not to shiver long enough to start yelling. The hunter brought up the rear, his hateful glare still in place. Riding ahead of him was the severe looking man, his posture and hauteur, marking him as from the palace. He had short hair, and a face that would have been called handsome before it was called strong. Tythos marked him as nobility, which only made the party in front of him more puzzling. If he was nobility, where was his escort?


    On Sigrun¡¯s other side, rode two women, one huddled in so many cloaks and clothes, she was an indistinct mass of fabric. The other was hunched against the cold, but looking at Tythos with open curiosity. Tythos took the group in with a glance, and fixed his attention on Sigrun.


    ¡°Wh-what was that?¡± Sigrun said through a jaw tight with cold.


    Tythos looked at her, wondering what he was missing. Yes, he was ten years removed from the world, but in what desperate reality would this group be on a mission for the king?


    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to be more specific,¡± Tythos said.


    ¡°You know what I mean!¡± Sigrun retorted.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t. And I¡¯m not going to waste time guessing. Talk straight, woman, or shut up.¡±


    ¡°Woman?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a woman aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Sigrun¡¯s expression hardened, she seemed to forget about being cold and sat straighter.


    ¡°I am a king¡¯s soldier!¡±


    Tythos snorted and shook his head.


    ¡°I think you have a gift,¡± said the Nightmare. ¡°You¡¯ve made her so angry she seems to have forgotten what she was angry about in the first place.¡±


    ¡°Why does the army have scouts in this valley?¡± Tythos asked.


    ¡°Why does the army¡­¡± Sigrun¡¯s angry expression crashed into confusion. ¡°What? What are you talking about? There¡¯s no army here.¡±


    ¡°Not an escort then,¡± said the Nightmare.


    Tythos shook his head. ¡°Why would he send the hand holder with the authority to make a deal if he was just going to kill me? It doesn¡¯t make sense.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Asked Sigrun,.


    ¡°Of course it does,¡± the Nightmare laughed. ¡°He couldn¡¯t order your death until the old compact was dissolved, or don¡¯t you remember the terms of the deal? There¡¯s going to be a whole group of men waiting in the woods to murder you the minute they see you with the black hand. They¡¯ll probably ride down and slaughter everyone in the valley just to make sure there are no witnesses. That¡¯s what I¡¯d do.¡±


    Tythos scowled at the Nightmare. ¡°Then we have to ride out of here before they see it!¡±


    ¡°See what?¡± Demanded Sigrun. ¡°Who are you talking to?¡±


    The Nightmare began to hoot with laughter. ¡°Before they see it?¡±


    ¡°What are you laughing about?¡± Asked Tythos.


    ¡°There¡¯s no need to worry about them seeing the hand now,¡± said the Nightmare. ¡°When the first thing you did with it was to call a tower of emerald flames that pierced the clouds.¡±


    ¡°Shit,¡± said Tythos.


    ¡°Yes,¡± said the Nightmare.


    Tythos looked back at Sigrun. ¡°Give me my horse, we have to leave the valley before the army comes and kills us all.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been sent to escort a madman,¡± said one of the party behind Sigrun.


    ¡°Your horse?¡± Asked Sigrun.


    ¡°Yes, my horse. For riding. Did you lose it?¡±


    ¡°Did I lose it?¡± Sigrun began shouting. ¡°Thanks to your magic stunt, we¡¯ve wasted half the day already, chasing down our mounts in this backwater! If your horse is lost, it was your own doing!¡±


    Tythos wasn¡¯t about to admit now that he thought it had been too much. How was he supposed to know the army was watching? The valley had been the exact place where nothing had happened for as long as he¡¯d been here.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this. Just say you don¡¯t have the mount you brought for me, give me one of yours and have your women ride double! We can get another along the road.¡±


    Sigrun sighed, ¡°We are not far from your farm. Let¡¯s go get one of yours, and then get on our way. With six weeks of travel ahead of us, it would be faster to find one of your horses first, than to start one short.¡±


    ¡°Hold!¡± Tythos held up a hand. ¡°Do you mean to say; you think I have horses?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a farmer aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Tythos¡¯s face darkened. ¡°That was the agreement; that I would live as a farmer.¡±


    ¡°Well then?¡± Sigrun said.


    ¡°This is delicious,¡± said the Nightmare. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to make you this angry for years, but no, you decided I ought to starve; refusing to get angry over anything.¡± Tythos glanced at the Nightmare. ¡°I¡¯d let you keep going, but I¡¯m already full. Just tell her what it¡¯s like to be a farmer, because she really doesn¡¯t know. She¡¯s exuding exasperation and confusion.¡±


    Tythos looked at Sigrun. ¡°You don¡¯t know what it means to be a farmer?¡±


    ¡°Why would I? It¡¯s not my place to know how a farmer serves the king. My place is to know how to stand in between the king and danger.¡±


    ¡°As much as I enjoy slowly freezing to death,¡± the stern looking blond haired man spoke up, ¡°while watching the simple attempt to communicate, I fear it would be a dereliction of duty to further indulge. Since I am a slave to duty, I will simplify for both of you. He is a farmer, which means he is property and owns nothing, as the gods intended. She is a guard, made for standing in front of sharp things, not for thinking and planning. For reasons I cannot fathom, she is in charge, and made the plans and provisions for this journey. Which means, he does not have a horse, and we did not bring a horse. However, he appears to have legs, which happen to be the magic that horses use to get from one place to another. Which means he can walk, and we can leave this gods forsaken valley, where winter appears to happen whenever it pleases, instead of happening in winter time like the rest of the world.¡±


    Sigrun turned in her saddle to look at the blond man. ¡°You knew the man we were coming to get wouldn¡¯t own a horse, and you chose to wait to tell me this until now?¡±


    The blond man shrugged, ¡°I suggested we use rope and a hood and tie him to one of the horses. Instead of listening to me, you chose to arm the madman with a magic sword.¡±


    ¡°Thanks for making my point,¡± Tythos said, stepping forward with the black sword in hand, ¡°And for volunteering.¡±


    ¡­


    The rate of snowfall continued to increase as the party began to try to make their way out of the valley. Tythos had spent the last ten years in the valley, and he was used to the feeling of being boxed in by it. He had come to think of it as a snake that had swallowed him, a great winding depression in the earth that was walled in on either side by bluffs and greenery. In the belly of the snake. It was almost a comforting thought at times to think he was being digested and would someday be shit out the other end of it.


    Tithos took the lead, both because of his familiarity with the valley and to give himself some space from the people that didn''t want to see him right now. The blonde man was now riding double with whoever it was that wore everything they had packed for the journey. Tithos hadn''t gotten a good look and wasn''t sure he cared to. Sure, he was stuck with these people now, but that didn''t mean he had any interest in them. Quite the contrary. Tathos knew if he generated the energy to grow interested in these people, it was the surest sign that they were going to die. It happened that way. Everyone he cared about was damned, marked for death. No way out of it.


    The only exception so far were the Gladwells and their little farmstead next to his. He had begun to think that the curse was finally broken, but with this party showing up in his life, breaking the agreement and its authority, and saddling him with a whole new one, he wasn''t sure. Maybe it was just a stay of execution. He knew one thing. He had to get out of this valley before he caused harm to the people who he actually cared about. The party he rode with be damned. He was bound by authority to keep them, well, not exactly keep them safe, but to help them.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    "What are you thinking about?" the nightmare broke into his thoughts.


    Tythos started and looked over at the creature. It was walking beside the horse. He looked down at his hand. The black hand was present, although indistinct again.


    "What the hell?" Tythos asked. "I didn''t feel you leave. How did our connection break again?"


    "Well, I think we forever broke it," said the nightmare.


    "Back when we stepped across the boundary onto Mr Saggets land?¡±


    ¡°Ugh, don''t remind me. Disgusting place. Anyway, perma-broke or not, it''s not the same as it was anymore."


    ¡°Care to explain that better?" Tithos asked.


    "I wish I could," said the nightmare. "I have no idea what''s wrong with it, but I can step out as I please. I kind of like it. I think that I''m going to go on a walkabout. Never been on a walkabout. Always wanted to try it."


    Tithos stared at the creature for a long moment. "A what about?¡±


    ¡°Ugh, You are so uncultured. I can''t tell you anything. Ooh, look, we have company."


    Tithos ignored the comment. "Hey, we almost blew away a minute ago. You separated from me and ate someone. I still don''t know how I feel about that."


    "So?" said the nightmare.


    "How the hell did you get out again?"


    "Get out? What? You''re not a prison. What are you thinking? We share a bond. I''m not getting out of anything. Ew. You think I''m inside you? I''m not inside you. Don''t be gross."


    Tithos looked up as one of the party members drew rein beside him. Tithos did a double take. He had mistaken this person for a girl. But it was a fair-haired youth with delicate features, pale skin and long black hair. The youth smiled at Tithos.


    "Hi! Who are you talking to?"


    Tithos scowled. The nightmare chuckled as it began to walk away. Tithos tried to get it to come back. "You get back here! We have to set terms."


    ¡°Oh, stuff it where the sun doesn''t shine. I''m off to have fun," said the nightmare.


    Tithos growled. The youth looked over Tithos'' shoulder, a perplexed look on his face. "Um, is there someone else here?"


    Tithos looked over at the kid. "No, there really isn''t. What do you want?"


    "Oh," said the kid. "I wanted to introduce myself and pick your brain about what sort of magical rules you applied to summon that green column of fire. Green fire? I¡¯ve never seen anything like it! Can you teach me?"


    Tithos let out a deep sigh. He was committed to sharing the road with this person. He supposed he could at least make an attempt.


    "Fine. I''m Tithos, tyrant of all the land. What''s your name?"


    "Hi," said the kid. "Nice to meet you, Tithos, tyrant of all the land. My name is Peony."


    Tithos blinked. "Your name suits you," he said. The kid didn''t seem to get the jab and grinned at him.


    "Thanks! Everyone thinks so."


    Tithos shook his head. "Look, I can''t teach you anything about magic."


    He''d been asked this question so often that he was used to giving the answer. Magic remained elusive to everyone who didn''t have a source of power. Tithos had a source of power, or at least he did until a minute ago when it walked away to go hunting. He needed to deal with that. He knew it could only get two miles from him, so... The best thing was to leave the valley quickly and figure the rest out as he went.


    "Oh, don''t be so hard on yourself," said the kid.


    Tithos blinked again, not understanding. "Hard on, what?"


    "It''s okay if you''re not a good teacher. I''m an excellent student. I''m sure you could teach me."


    "Kid, look, what the hell are you on about?"


    "What? Why, I''m a student of the new magic," said the kid.


    "Uh," said Tithos. "New magic? Now you''ve really lost me. What the hells are you talking about?"


    The kid lit up. This was clearly a subject that he enjoyed talking about. "Oh, the Thaumodynamic principles underlying the makeup of the universe, of course. Oh my goodness. Do you not know about new magic?"


    ¡°Thaumodynamic? I knew someone who called themself a thaumaturge once, they built a miniature bridge and said it gave them magic to build a real one. That¡¯s not magic¡ª¡°


    The kid grinned even wider. "No, you''re wrong! It''s been discovered! The five laws of Thaumodynamics. Thaumaturgy has come a long way. Look, I''ll show you."


    The kid, steeped in enthusiasm, stood in his stirrups and plucked a branch off a passing tree. Tythos eyed the branch, noting the green buds forming at the ends. He heard Farmer Sagget¡¯s voice in his head,


    ¡°That¡¯s a scrub oak. Slow grower, but they¡¯ll make do with land you can¡¯t work. You can add them to part of your wind-break to harvest later for tool-wood.¡±


    Peony sat back down in his saddle and held the small branch before him. With a look of intense concentration he began speaking something in a language Tythos didn¡¯t recognize. It rhymed, with a sing-song quality to it.


    Tythos heard what sounded like a child¡¯s laughter nearby, then the twig Peony held burst aflame. It wasn¡¯t a big flame, or particularly hot. It was a merry, normal looking fire, except that it had apparently come from laughter and a rhyme.


    The branch burned down quickly and Peony tried to shake it out, only to fan the flame. He yelped and dropped the burning stick. Last year¡¯s growth of grass was standing tall, yellow and dry along the roadside.


    On reflex, Tythos extended a manifested shovel from his arm and caught the burning branch before it hit ground. He hadn¡¯t stopped to think what the black hand being indistinct might mean, or where the power would come from with the nightmare gone.


    The moment he caught it, a white starburst of light burst in his vision, and a sharp throbbing headache was kicked off, starting behind his left eye. With gritted teeth, he slowly brought the burning branch to him, then glared at Peony.


    ¡°Do you see the color of this grass? How far into this gods-damn valley does this grass go? What would happen if you started a fire that we¡¯re downhill from? Do you feel that damn wind blowing?¡± Tythos loomed over the younger man, ¡°What the fuck were you thinking boy?¡±


    Peony shrank in his saddle, at first looking defiant, but as Tythos went on, he looked like he was ready to cry.


    ¡°Can your magic laughter magic put fire out? No? No merry extinguishing rhyme? So you decided you start a fire on a windy day? Did you put your brain in your skull when you got out of bed this morning? Clearly you didn¡¯t! Next time you¡¯re asked a question that can be answered simply instead of showing off in a way that puts your people in danger, and risks the lives of civilians, I expect a simple answer! AM I CLEAR?¡±


    Peony was looking back wide eyed, like a cornered animal.


    ¡°I SAID, AM I CLEAR?¡± Tythos thundered.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Peony squeaked.


    ¡°I can¡¯t hear you!¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡±


    ¡°Yes, what?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough Tyrannous!¡± Sigrun said as she caught up with the pair.


    ¡°You keep your big brown nose out of this!¡± Tythos snapped at her.


    ¡°It is not your place to order my men around¡ª¡°


    Tythos reigned over and got in her face, ¡°It damn well is my place when the actions of your men are so sloppy that they endanger the lives of King¡¯s citizens and threaten the lives of your unit!¡±


    Sigrun reached for her sword, looking alarmed. Tythos looked down at his hand, which had transformed into the black sword. It had been a completely unconscious thought. He dismissed the sword and returned his hand. It was still a faint outline. The backlash from summoning the sword now would likely make him pass out. He reigned forward and urged his horse into a walk while everyone was still looking stunned in his wake. Working quickly, he tied his belt to the pommel so he wouldn¡¯t spill to the road when¡ª


    It hit him like a kick from a mule, and he kept his head down, trying not to fall over. He lost his ability to see and hear as his head filled with a thundering pain that sent shooting tendrils through his body. The pounding, thudding agony was all he was aware of and he tried desperately to stay sitting up, with a hand on the pommel.


    After an interminable amount of time the sensation abated, leaving Tythos dizzy and shaken. He was still on his horse, though he had to straighten his seat in the saddle. His head hurt like it¡¯d been split with an axe and his back and arm ached.


    The party had let him ride ahead, and they may not have noticed his weakness. He didn¡¯t dare look back to check. He would fall off the horse if he did. Instead, he let the horse have its head and focused on breathing. The coolness of the falling snow was a welcome relief. Tythos closed his eyes and tried not think.


    ***


    Birdge Beauchamp was the oldest member of the small party. He¡¯d been hired on as the hunter for the journey to fetch some old farmer. That had been how the job had been presented. Some old farmer. The name ¡°Tythos Tyrannous Rex¡± had been mysteriously absent from the tall woman¡¯s lips when she¡¯d brought him on.


    Birdge had been with this group for the better part of six weeks, and had begun to enjoy their company. Until that smelly pig farm. Sitting astride his horse as that hateful name was shouted, his perspective shifted. Sigrun had played him. He thought seriously about simply riding away as chaos unfolded around him. Watching Peony¡¯s futile efforts to catch his panicked horse had been what had caused him to decide to stay. This group would be dead inside of three days without him. Leaving someone stranded because they¡¯d lied to you was one thing, leaving them to die for it was another.


    Birdge had been checking the back trail. The horses had spooked on that farm like they¡¯d smelled a giant wolverine. Those beasts didn¡¯t often range this far south, but that didn¡¯t mean one wouldn¡¯t get it in its head to do so. He¡¯d heard of one tracking a group of people almost two hundred miles overland. Every time they thought it had given up and left, one of the animals would disappear in the night.


    Birdge caught up with the group easily. Lancaster and Gina were riding double. Sigrun was riding beside them, speaking in a low tone. Trailing behind, Peony was hunched in his saddle like he was trying to hide. Tythos appeared to have taken the lead and had ranged a ways ahead. Birdge had expected Sigrun to be off in the lead like that. She tended to take charge like she had something to prove.


    Birdge reigned in beside Sigrun.


    ¡°No sign of whatever spooked the horses¡ª that is, no sign we¡¯re being followed.¡± He gave Sigrun a flat look. ¡°I suspect, it was the simple farmer we picked up that spooked them so badly.¡±


    Sigrun gave the look back, meeting his eye.


    ¡°We couldn¡¯t tell you.¡±


    Birdge held her gaze until she looked away.


    ¡°Bird, I¡¯m serious, we couldn¡¯t tell you. We have orders.¡±


    ¡°Horseshit. Tell me why I shouldn¡¯t¡¯ ride off and leave you.¡±


    ¡°We hired you for a job and¡ª¡°


    ¡°Nope. You voided that contract when we picked up the man who burned down half the world and that was the first I heard about it. One more chance.¡±


    ¡°We need you Bird¡ª¡°


    ¡°Yes you do.¡± Birdge spoke quietly, but it cut off Sigrun¡¯s words like a slap. ¡°Think good and hard on that fact before you answer the next question. This is what will decide if I stay. Is there anything else you need to tell me? A lie by omission is still a lie. Lie to me again and you¡¯re on your own. You put my life in danger as well as that of your group when you withhold critical information from me.¡±


    Sigrun opened her mouth to reply, but Birdge cut her off.


    ¡°Don¡¯t answer right away. Really think about it. I can¡¯t do my job if you have secrets you keep from me. Especially secrets the size of Tythos Tyrannous Rex. You might have orders, but if I can¡¯t do my job, we¡¯re all going to die. That might seem like a joke to you, because you don¡¯t know what I do. Don¡¯t open your mouth to contradict me, you¡¯re not a hunter. You weren¡¯t raised by a hunter and you¡¯ve never been taught the craft. If I leave, and you try to make the journey anyway, you won¡¯t last a week. I¡¯ll let you think on that.¡±


    A range of emotions crossed Sigrun¡¯s face. She clearly wanted to argue, but managed to hold it in. Eventually, she nodded.


    Birdge looked up the road to where Tythos Tyrannous Rex was riding. The man was riding like he was under a great weight, and weary enough to fall out of the saddle. At least the madman wasn¡¯t currently taking to the empty air. Birdge shook his head.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to go check on our charge.¡± He looked at Sigrun to make sure she heard and understood. ¡°I¡¯m going to expect that answer when I get back. If you hold your tongue, or your answer smells funny, I¡¯m gone.¡±


    Birdge turned and urged his horse forward. It was time to go get a measure of the most horrible man in the world.


    ***


    Tythos jerked awake when his horse missed a step. He''d fallen asleep in the saddle. He looked around. Snow was coming down heavily. The wind was blowing mild and steady. And he wasn''t sure which mountain he was on. This wasn''t the first time that he''d slept in the saddle, leading men to battle, marching at the head of a column, ten thousand strong. Some days that was the only time there was for sleep. He was more than used to it.


    But why didn''t he recognize which mountain he was on? He looked around, confused, until the last fourty years caught up with his lagging awareness. Tythos shook his head slowly. It had been a long time since he had thought about that. A man in his second decade out to conquer the world. That wasn''t who he was anymore. He had failed. Now he was just an old man on a foolish adventure. He looked down at his hand, or the insubstantial outline that marked where his hand should be. He was unclear as to what exactly was going on with it now. He didn''t have any sensation in it. It felt like the stump had always felt; like there should be a hand there. But every time he thought about it, it was only a thought, a memory. Now the memory existed.


    He was able to interact with some objects with it. But when he held the reins, it took a force of concentration to keep them in hand. Otherwise, they fell right out of his insubstantial grasp. It''s like it was and wasn''t there at the same time. He shook his head. He had an itch right on the back of the hand, the same one that had plagued him since he lost it. The same phantom itch. He had the damn hand back and the itch was still there. Life was full of cruel irony. He reached and tried to scratch. And even with concentration, he couldn''t feel anything, even though he could force the hand to provide some resistance. He gave up and reached through the hand and scratched at the stump. It didn''t help, but he scratched anyway.


    With the return of the awareness of where and when he was came the return of his awareness of the problems he now faced. If the nightmare was correct, the king wanted him dead, which didn''t make sense to Tythos, because that would create a whole new set of problems for the kingdom. The nightmare wasn''t even there to discuss its reasoning with him. The creature never ceased to be infuriating. When he was stuck with it, it never shut up. And now that he had something he wanted to talk over with it, it was gone. He needed to figure out a way to keep hold of it. If he lost control of the thing, he didn''t know what sort of damage it would cause.


    One of the party drew up beside him. Tythos glanced over. It was the older man, probably somewhere in his third or fourth decade. He was lean and weathered, like one of the pines that grew at the edge of the bluffs, and hung on despite the winds and crumbling earth. The trees tenacious efforts to grow, in spite of the harsh conditions, anchored the dirt and sheltered the other trees from the wind. This metaphor had such apt implications for the man riding next to Tythos that he pictured farmer Sagget expounding on it. Tythos began to chuckle.


    The man riding beside him gave Tythos a wary look. The kind of look you gave a scared animal, assessing if it was about to attack or flee.


    ¡°Just ten years and now all my thoughts come in farming metaphors.¡± Tythos thought. This observations made him laugh harder.


    The man watched Tythos laugh and said nothing. His laughter wound down, and the pair rode in silence for a while. Tythos scanned the farm they were passing, looking for any distressed behavior in the cows, or any sign of the nightmare.


    Tythos sighed, ¡°You¡¯re waiting for me to speak first, and you¡¯d wait all day¡ª even all day tomorrow if that was what it took, wouldn¡¯t you?¡±


    The man said nothing.


    ¡°I know this trick. I¡¯ve traveled with men like you before. I heard the stories. You¡¯re a hunter, but that¡¯s the obvious conclusion. No one else in the group is old enough or hard enough to be.¡±


    Tythos watched the man for a reaction, but his face was blank and he held his tongue. Tythos shrugged.


    ¡°As it goes, a pair of your lot set out on a journey to get a measure of each other. Or to win a bet, I¡¯ve heard different versions. Supposedly, each was reputed to be the greatest hunter in the land, or the world¡ª I have no idea. So they set out, traveling together, hunting together, all the other things your lot does¡ª you¡¯re damn secretive about some of it¡ª neither man saying a word. Not even a grunt, if you get the story further away from the capital. Point was, somehow or other, the need to talk was a sign of weakness¡ª or some shit¡ª and the first to break the silence would be the lesser man.¡±


    Tythos paused, looking for a reaction. Nothing.


    ¡°Or some horse shit¡ª I¡¯m just a soldier. Well, farmer now¡ª anyway, they went on like this, the journey not gonna end until one of them broke the silence. Now there are three different endings to this story, but they all amount to the same thing. Ending one, they walk until both men die of old age, neither making a sound. I think this is the most far fetched. Ending two, they do something long and heroic, both dying in the attempt and save a village, or the kingdom¡ª or the world in some versions. This is the most believable¡ª except for saving the world. Then there¡¯s ending three, and you strike me as an ending three kind, where they walk around the whole world, neither man uttering a word, and end up back where they started. Well, this completes the thing for them and they shake hands and part ways as equals.¡±


    Tythos eyed his stoic companion.


    ¡°So now I¡¯ve broke the silence you get to be the better man and still ask the questions you¡¯re clearly burning to ask me.¡±


    The man¡¯s mouth twitched, then he schooled his features blank and spoke,


    ¡°You¡¯re Tythos Tyrannous Rex?¡±


    Tythos grunted. ¡°Not anymore I¡¯m not. It¡¯s just Tythos now.¡±


    The man gave him a look like he was shit stuck to his shoe.


    ¡°Ah, I¡¯ve got your measure now. You hate me, and don¡¯t even know me. Let me guess, someone you knew¡ª maybe more than one¡ª died in the war and you blame me.¡±


    ¡°You started the war.¡±


    ¡°Yes I did. I started that war. You go ahead and hate me if that¡¯s what you need to do. I got one ask though¡­¡± Tythos paused to gauge the man¡¯s reaction. ¡°Wait until we get where we¡¯re going before you try it. My woodcraft is shit and I don¡¯t fancy trying to travel without a hunter, or having to kill that lot back there so they¡¯ll leave me alone.¡±


    The man¡¯s eyebrows raised as he caught the implication.


    ¡°His name was Gottard and he was ten times the man you¡¯ll ever be¡ª¡°


    ¡°Spare me. If I wanted self-righteous speeches I¡¯d go ride with Sigrun. I don¡¯t claim to be a good man. I don¡¯t think what I did was right or justified. It just is. I get to live with that, and you get to walk away. Take your chance to do that; leave believing I¡¯m shit on your shoe and don¡¯t look back. Make something of yourself instead being anything like me. Thinking somehow you¡¯re doing Gottard proud or some shit.¡±


    The man drew a knife from his belt, his eyes flashing. Tythos looked him in the eye, not hiding what waited if he tried it. The tension between the men stopped the horses and Tythos waited until the man looked away.


    ¡°Good. You¡¯ve decided to at least wait. Now, let¡¯s act professional since that means we got to work together.¡±


    The man nodded, sheathed his dagger. ¡°Call me Bird. I¡¯ll act as hunter for this trip and when we get where we¡¯re going, I¡¯m gonna kill you.¡±


    Tythos nodded, ¡°I can live with that.¡±


    A terrified scream pierced the quietude of the falling snow. It was filled with horror and quickly followed by another. It was coming from up the road. The snow and a bluff obscured any chance to see where it was coming from.


    Tythos and Bird shot each other a look, then both kicked their horses into a gallop, heading for the sound of the screams.


    ***

 Chapter 4, The Storm Begins

    Sigrun Wellborn watched the hunter ride ahead to speak with the old mad king. She wondered at how far off track her life had gone. She had been a girl with aspirations of becoming the first female Kingsguard in a line of Kingsguards, her father having served the throne as his father before him. When Tythos had taken the throne, he had taken more than just the throne. The mad king, openly and widely acknowledged as being out of his mind, had wandered with his army of northmen from kingdom to kingdom, conquering. He had become king of six of the seven kingdoms, dispelling their magic by disavowing their gods.


    She was not in her third decade yet, but she was old enough to have seen the world changed beyond recognition. All of her plans for who she was going to be, for what she wanted to be, had been dashed, reforged, and dashed again. She knew that without the hunter, their party would not survive the trip. And so she could not let him leave.


    She wondered at that. Was telling him the truth about her orders the solution? Or should she keep her orders to the fullest of her ability and kill the man? She shook her head. The gently falling snow was a welcome relief to the reality of bugs that existed on the road.


    Sigrun had continued to serve at the pallace after Tythos had ensured that she would. He had even seated the old king back upon the throne, at the end, having not killed him, but instead imprisoned him. He had killed most of the other monarchs. He had also managed to start riots in almost every city that he had taken control of. He was widely thought to be the most violently dangerous event that the world had ever seen. This man had burned the world down.


    Sigrun knew that she should hate him. It''s what the rest of the world had chosen to do. People who had never met him hated him. They hated his evil, vile, corrupt nature. They labeled him as the tyrant, the mad king, the scourge of the seven kingdoms, amongst other things. But having gotten stuck getting to know the man when he had taken over High-Fall, her kingdom, she could not now bring herself to hate him.


    She shook her head. If only life were so easy. If only it were good versus evil. She would be good. Tythos would be evil. She would slay him and be rewarded. She would be righteous. She would be noble. She would wear her righteousness on her chest like a badge and carry it forward into the shining dawn. A tear stung her eye, and she blinked hard, trying to wipe away the sentimentality. Her father would disapprove. She straightened in the saddle.


    Life was not so clear. Life was dirty and cruel and full of pain and heartbreak, and you still had to get up and find a reason to move forward or give up and lay down and die.


    No.


    In spite of everything, Sigrun still had a job to do. She was to deliver Tythos to Thonos Gap. She was to ensure that he reforged the pact, and she was going to, whether he liked it or not, use him to ensure the protection of the kingdom.


    Sigrun deflated. Those were fancy thoughts for fancy deeds, and she had no idea how she was going to get it done.


    The hunter, Bird, reined in beside Tythos, breaking Sigrun out of her reverie. She watched, curious what the man would do. What was he looking for up there, speaking with Tythos Tyrannus Rex? Some sort of closure, she guessed.


    She remembered her grandmother''s words. ¡°People are like the tides,¡± she had said. ¡°They always come back to a thing, whether they want to or not. All you have to do is expose a person to something, and then they will return. They can''t help it. Those that fight it are like the ships that don''t turn. They sink. But those that go with it, that ride the waves¡ªthey''re the ones that will make it through the storm. When you find yourself going back, turn your head towards it. Don''t turn away. Otherwise, you''ll be the one who sinks too.¡±


    Sigrun wondered if this was like that. Was the hunter going to confront the tyrant king because he had to come back rather than turn away? In truth, Sigrun wasn''t sure that she knew what her grandma''s words had meant, but she remembered them nonetheless. She tried to follow advice when she heard it, but too much of the world didn''t play by the rules. Her father didn''t stay alive. Her mother she had never met. Her kingdom didn''t continue running. The magic she had practiced had been taken. The life she had wanted had disappeared. And then when she had settled into a life ten years after the tyrant had disappeared, she had been snatched up and given a secret mission and torn away once again from everything that she had built.


    Sigrun looked down at her hand, which was now missing two thirds of the ring finger. She ran her thumb over the healed stump of the finger and sighed. She¡¯d lost a finger today and that was the least of her problems. She¡¯d lost the old withered hand and since she coudln¡¯t tell Bird where they were going, she¡¯d lost their hunter. Now, since Tythos had jumped down Peony¡¯s throat like a seasoned sergeant, she had the creeping suspicion she¡¯d lost command of her group.


    The two men in the lead stopped their horses, clear tension between them. She hadn¡¯t expected them to fight. Bird drew his dagger and Sigrun cursed, urging her horse to a gallop. She ignored the shouted questions from the three she¡¯d been riding beside, focused on getting to the pair in front of her. Before she got to them, she heard screams coming from further down the road.


    ***


    Bird had visions of a giant wolverine tearing its way through a farmhouse as he raced down the road. The last time he¡¯d heard screams like this had been in the war. He glanced at the man he was riding into trouble with.


    Tythos was not a tall man, but he was solid. He was shorter than Bird and still clearly outweighed him. From the way he handled the animal, he also knew horses.


    The falling snow had begun to limit visibility and Bird slowed his horse as they approached the curve in the road. Tythos urged his horse to more speed and rode straight off the road, instead of trying to take the curve. Bird followed at a slower pace, unsure if Tythos knew what he was doing or had just killed his horse.


    Sigrun caught up with him as he approached the place Tythos had left the road. Strain had pulled her features tight and she was sitting her horse like she was tied to a board. Tight lipped, she gave him a curt nod, and he took the lead.


    There was a footpath at the place Tythos had disappeared. A worn dirt trail that softened the drop down from the road toward a stream. Descending the slope, Bird came to a shallow crossing. Stones had been built up to slow the water and sand had settled where the stream spread out. There was no sign of Tythos except for hoof-prints in the bank on the other side. It was a miracle his horse hadn¡¯t broke a leg or thrown him at the speed he¡¯d been riding.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Crossing the water and coming up the other side, Bird and Sigrun broke from the trees that grew around the wash into an open field. The screaming cut off abruptly. They urged their horses to a trot as Bird followed the trail Tythos had left. He had to squint against the snow to see anything, and the hoof-prints were filling up fast. This was weird weather for this time of year.


    ***


    Bird left the field, entering a farmyard, the low visibility causing it to loom up suddenly. Bird¡¯s horse knickered and danced a couple steps before he pulled it around. Something had spooked it. Sigrun¡¯s horse had a different reaction, blowing and pulling at the reigns. Bird dismounted from his nervous animal and saw what had spooked it. There was a dead man lying at the edge of the yard.


    Bird crushed some herbs he carried and ran a finger over the animal¡¯s nose. His horse visibly calmed and he was able to let go of the reigns without the creature bolting. Sigrun rode past, drawing her sword.


    The dead man was a soldier. One of the King¡¯s men. The ground told the story of what happened. The man had been hit by something heavy. It had pounced and landed on him. Then his skull had been crushed. Bird shook his head. These men normally had helmets. This man¡¯s was missing.


    Following Sigrun further into the yard, Bird stumbled into something out of a nightmare. There were almost a dozen dead, and it took him a moment to see the pattern of what had happened. His mind began to make sense of it, and things began to present themselves. His mouth twisted into a hard line as they did.


    There were four people lying in a neat row, all of them face-down. They were wearing simple clothes. One man and three children. They were bound hand and foot, and they¡¯d all been on their knees. They¡¯d had their throats cut. Further on, a woman lay in similar condition. She would have been facing the four if she was still upright. She¡¯d been made to watch.


    Bird hurried toward the house, stepping past three soldiers. The ground around them was torn up, like they¡¯d been fighting each other. One was dead of a sword wound, one had his skull stoved in like the first man, and the third was still alive. He was jerking and his breathing was bad. He was trying to crawl away. Bird turned him over.


    The soldier¡¯s throat had been crushed. His eyes were wild, unseeing. They rolled in his head like a panicked horse. He was gasping in shallow breaths, pink bubbles forming with each shaky exhalation. This man was already dead, his body just hadn¡¯t accepted it yet. Bird moved quickly toward the log house.


    Three figures stood on the structure¡¯s low slung porch. Sigrun, her sword still out, and Tythos standing close to a soldier with his back against the wall. Sigrun was covering Tythos with her sword, clearly on the edge. Bird hurried forward, things becoming clearer when he got to the edge of the porch.


    The soldier was not leaning against the wall. He was pinned to it by a sword thrust through his gut. He had both hands on the blade, which were bleeding freely even as he squeezed the blade impaling him. Tythos had an ear cocked close to the man, who was trying to say something. A soldier¡¯s helmet was tied onto Tythos¡¯s stump by the chinstraps. It was dripping blood onto the porch.


    Sigrun had her sword pointed at Tythos, who seemed to be paying her no mind. Bird watched the blood drip from the helmet for a moment. He blinked, focusing.


    ¡°What¡ª¡° he stopped short as Tythos held up a finger.


    ¡°Tell them what you just told me,¡± Tythos said.


    ¡°We were following orders,¡± the soldier said, his voice was strained; hard to hear. He looked down at the sword sticking out of his gut. He let out a low whimper.


    He began to fall forward over the sword. Tythos pushed him back against the wall, hard. The man¡¯s helmeted head clunked against the wall. He looked away from the sword and up at Tythos.


    ¡°What were your orders?¡± Tythos asked.


    The soldier flicked a glance at Sigrun and licked his lips. He shook his head.


    ¡°Our orders are sealed,¡± he said.


    Tythos bounced his head off the wall again, ¡°Unseal them for me.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± the soldier said in a choked whisper.


    Tythos grabbed the soldier¡¯s jerkin and pulled him forward. The soldier cried out.


    ¡°Focus on me,¡± Tythos was practically growling. ¡°What orders were you given,¡± Tythos slammed the soldier back against the wall, ¡°that caused you to come into my valley,¡± Tythos jerked the man forward, ¡°and begin,¡± Tythos slammed him back, ¡°Executing,¡± Pull, ¡°Children!¡± Salm!


    ¡°Stop it!¡± Sigrun shouted.


    Tythos turned his snarling wrath on her, ¡°You stay out of this! He¡¯a member of your King¡¯s army sent here to kill children! You¡¯ll be lucky if I don¡¯t treat you as party to this!¡±


    Sigrun took a step forward, ¡°You¡¯re right, he is part of my army and I¡¯m taking charge of him.¡±


    Tythos gave her a dangerous look, the same look he¡¯d given Bird before. ¡°I knew these people.¡± He gestured at the farmers in the yard, ¡°This man¡¯s life is mine. Step away.¡±


    Sigrun hesitated and Tythos turned back to the man he had hold of. He began to pick the man up. Bird would not have thought it possible, but Tythos began to lift the man, tearing the sword downward through his gut as he did. The soldier began drumming his heels against the wall, his mouth open in a soundless scream.


    ¡°Tell me your orders!¡± Tythos roared.


    ¡°Last warning!¡± Sigrun shouted. ¡°Step away from that soldier!¡±


    Tythos ignored her and lifted the man higher. Bird could see Sigrun was going to go for it. He opened his mouth to forestall her, but she stepped forward and swung her sword. She had a straight sword, not a curved blade, so she was trying to disable. You needed a curved sword to remove limbs or kill with a chop. Tythos seemed to sense her coming and tore the man off the wall and off the sword catching the downward stroke on the man¡¯s shoulder and deflecting the blade. Tythos let go of the man, which yanked the sword from Sigrun¡¯s hand then he kicked her bodily off the porch. She landed in the dirt and rolled.


    Tythos bent over the the soldier. The cross guard of the sword had entangled the man¡¯s intestines as he was ripped off of it. They now hung wet and glistening, alien colors to have come from a man. Tythos grabbed a handful of the man¡¯s intestines and yanked, arresting the soldier¡¯s attention like death itself.


    ¡°Tell me your orders, or I swear by the gods I¡¯ll drag you behind my horse by your guts until sundown.¡± Tythos yanked, ¡°I¡¯ll make sure you live long enough to watch me cook them tonight.¡±


    Sigrun sat up, gasping for air after the kick.


    The soldier began to sob like a scared child, ¡°Orders were to ride down into this valley and kill every man, woman and child who knew your name.¡±


    Tythos yanked, ¡°Why? Why now?¡±


    ¡°They said¡­¡± the man was sobbing so hard it took him several tries to get it out. ¡°Said you¡¯d be gone and we were supposed to removed any trace you¡¯d lived here.¡±


    Sigrun was staring open-mouthed from where she sat in the yard.


    ¡°Who issued these orders?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, it came from too high up. We received a sealed envelope.¡±


    ¡°What were you supposed to do if you found me?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, there was no contingency in the packet, you were supposed to be gone¡­¡±


    ¡°When did you receive your orders?¡±


    ¡°Five days ago, we had to push to make it here today.¡±


    ¡°Today?¡±


    ¡°Orders were clear, we had to be here today.¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯d you ride out of?¡±


    ¡°Pallbrook.¡±


    ¡°Who handed you the envelope?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Who would know?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, please¡­ please¡­¡±


    Tythos let go of the man¡¯s intestines. He grabbed Sigrun¡¯s sword, which was stuck in the meat of the man¡¯s shoulder. With one quick motion he yanked it free and pinned the soldier¡¯s head to the planks of the porch. The movement was so abrupt it startled Bird. The soldier lay twitching.


    Tythos stood and walked off the porch, across the yard and into the falling snow. Neither Sigrun nor Bird moved to stop him. Sigrun got slowly to her feet, looking more shaken than hurt.


    Bird looked at the carnage in the yard around him. He hadn¡¯t been that far behind Tythos. His eyes were dragged inexorably back to the mess Tythos had made of the man on the porch. Sigrun stepped up beside him, staring at the same thing.


    ¡°What have you gotten us tangled up in?¡± Bird asked, not taking his eyes off the porch.


    ***

 Chapter 5, Horror, Questions and Surprises

    Tythos stood at the edge of the field, breathing in the cold heavy air. Fat snowflakes were falling, obscuring sight lines and muffling sounds. He stood, letting the snow accumulate in his hair and beard. He looked down at his hand, covered in blood. He wished it didn¡¯t feel so familiar.


    He was standing over the body of the first man. The first one he¡¯d killed in ten years. He looked down at the man, dressed in the uniform of a king¡¯s soldier. He bent and brushed the accumulating snow from the dead man¡¯s coat. He stared at it for a long moment.


    ¡°Mmm, I smell blood,¡± said the nightmare.


    ¡°I thought you might come sniffing around. What took you so long?¡±


    Tythos began rifling through the dead man¡¯s pockets. The appearance of these soldiers didn¡¯t make sense. Their orders didn¡¯t make sense. There was something going on that he didn¡¯t understand yet. He was going to have to have a long talk with Sigrun.


    The creature entered Tythos¡¯s awareness this time. He¡¯d been enjoying the absence instead of worrying.


    "What took me so long?" the Nightmare said. "That was short for a walkabout. My, but you are uncultured. Don''t you know anything about what a walkabout is supposed to be?"


    "No," said Tythos, "and I don''t care. If you''re back early, why are you back?"


    "Well," said the Nightmare, "while I was out, I found some soldiers, and one of them had a head I took a shining to, and I was wondering if I could get you to come and kill them so I could eat them."


    "He had a head," Tythos spoke slowly, "you took a shining to?"


    The Nightmare nodded enthusiastically at this. Beginning to describe the features of the man¡¯s head, Tythos waved him off.


    The dead man¡¯s pockets yielded a few coins, a small knife and cup and dice set. Tythos kept the coins and knife. He¡¯d been hoping for papers, letters, orders or anything that offered a clue. He stood, dropping the cup of dice.


    "Look, something you said has been bothering me," Tythos said, "and I want you to clear this up for me. You said that you consumed a scout."


    The Nightmare nodded. "Yes, I did. What of it? He''s mine."


    "Uh-huh. I thought you had limitations to what you could consume."


    The Nightmare huffed. "Well, of course I do have limitations, and you''re unaware of most of them."


    The Nightmare pointed at the dead manbetween them, and Tythos made a, go ahead, gesture.


    A shadow engulfed the body and Tythos took several steps back. There was a soft squelching sound and blood sprayed across the ground where the body had been. The shadows flowed back toward Tythos and formed his hand. Tythos opened and closed it, his eyes on the bloodstained snow. He felt renewed, aches and fatigue leaving like he¡¯d slept a full night.


    "Yeah, talking details with you is dangerous," said Tythos.


    "Oh, whatever, you''re such a spoilsport," said the Nightmare.


    "Let''s talk about one detail," said Tythos.


    "Okay, fine, I will keep it to one, but you really ought to know so much more," said the Nightmare.


    "No," said Tythos. "Just tell me how you were able to consume a scout, but you could not consume the soldiers that you found, whose heads you like."


    "No, only one of them had a head I liked," said the Nightmare.


    "I don''t care about that," said Tythos. "Just explain why you didn''t eat them."


    "No, I used the word consume¡ª¡°


    ¡°I don''t care."


    ¡°You¡¯re wounded.¡±


    Tythos glanced at his arm. He had a deep cut at the base of his shoulder. He grunted.


    ¡°Don¡¯t change the subject.¡±


    ¡°I can work while I talk.¡±


    ¡°Then get to it.¡±


    Black tendrils shot from the hand and began sewing the wound shut.


    "Fine," huffed the Nightmare. "I''ll explain it to you. I can only consume things that have lost the will to resist me."


    "Uh-huh¡­¡±


    ¡°So, well, there is an exception," said the Nightmare.


    The dark tendrils manifesting as dark thread broke away, the remainder retreating into the hand. Tythos examined the stitches for a moment.


    "Alright, explain," said Tythos.


    "Well, I can hold someone until they lose their will to resist me."


    "You can hold someone," said Tythos. "Just one?"


    The Nightmare nodded. "Just one."


    "Okay. Spit him out."


    "What?" said the Nightmare.


    "Spit out the scout you are holding," said Tythos.


    "He''s mine," said the Nightmare.


    "You can have him when I''m done,¡± said Tythos. ¡°I just need to ask some questions."


    The head of the creature manifested from the hand and looked at Tythos. It looked peevish for a moment, then a wicked grin spread across its face. "Fine," the Nightmare said, ¡°If you insist.¡±


    The mouth opened like that of a snake and disgorged a figure along with several gallons of a clear viscous liquid. Tythos jumped back to keep from getting splashed. An acrid acid stink rolled away from the spot, melting the snowfall caught in the vapor. The viscous bile was issuing a soft hissing sizzle, where it was in contact with the remains of the soldier. It was melting him and his clothes. Tythos could see parts of the man¡¯s skull through his scalp.


    Tythos¡¯s eyes were watering and his nose and throat burned from the whiff he¡¯d gotten of the stuff. He took a further step back.


    ¡°I thought you said he was alive¡ª¡°


    The melted soldier sat up. The man¡¯s face had nearly completely melted away, revealing the skull underneath in patches. His eye sockets were empty except for the bile that dripped from them. The man¡¯s jaw opened and he retched out some of the clear fluid. It spilled over his naked teeth, past missing lips. The flow ebbed and the melted man gasped in a breath, and screamed. It was a throat ripping shriek that rose and continued to rise in volume.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Cursing, Tythos leapt forward and planted the knife he¡¯d looted in the top of the soldier¡¯s head. This shut him off like braining a pig. Tythos danced back, as his shoes started to smoke. Getting a good distance away, he let out a breath he¡¯d been holding. Bending down, he ripped his shoes off.


    ¡°You can have him,¡± Tythos managed to choke out, before he started coughing.


    Darkness shot from his hand and enveloped the mess. There was a soft squelch and dark blood sprayed across the scene. The shadows returned and Tythos managed to get his coughing under control.


    ¡°What the hell was that?¡±


    ¡°With the loosening of the bond constraints, some of my natural abilities have returned.¡±


    ¡°Congratulations. You¡¯ve once again topped the list of the ten worst things I can imagine.¡±


    ¡°I do try to please¡­ but why wasn¡¯t I already on the top?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you were already eight of my top ten, now you¡¯re nine of the ten worst things I can imagine.¡±


    ¡°Oooh, what¡¯s the other one?¡±


    ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    ¡°Pleeease?¡±


    ¡°Double fuck you. Which way were the soldiers you found?¡±


    ¡°Just give me a hint.¡±


    Tythos looked down as his bare feet in the snow.


    ¡°Find me a soldier to kill with a pair of boots that fit me before I lose a toe and I¡¯ll think about it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re such a tease.¡± The creature blew a raspberry. ¡°Northeast about a quarter mile, they were in the tree line on top of the ridge.¡±


    Tythos took off running. His feet were numb before he reached the edge of the field. He cursed this development and pressed on.


    ¡°Farm life has been making me soft.¡±


    ***


    Sigrun stood slowly from where she¡¯d been kicked. She felt like she¡¯d been kicked by a horse. She glanced at the retreating figure of Tythos and decided she¡¯d give him some space. Winning the duel against him ten years back had been an ego boost, but after what she¡¯d just seen, she had the gnawing suspicion he hadn¡¯t been trying.


    Bird was standing near the porch, staring at the grotesque tangle. If there was any chance he was going to act as hunter for her group, she needed him not to go into shock. She stepped up beside him.


    ¡°What have you gotten us tangled up in?¡± Bird asked again, not looking at her.


    Sigrun eyed the intestines hanging from the sword in the wall, and almost said, ¡°It could be worse.¡± She held her tongue. She missed her unit.


    ¡°Do you believe what this man just told us?¡± Sigrun asked.


    Bird nodded, ¡°He sounded like a man anxious to tell everything.¡±


    Sigrun almost said, ¡°You mean he spilled his guts?¡± Her mouth twitched and she looked away to keep bird from seeing her smile. What was wrong with her? She shook her head. This was no time for jokes. She cleared her throat and turned back.


    Bird was eyeing her with a worried expression, ¡°You okay?¡±


    Sigrun tried to blank her mind before a joke could form. She stepped past Bird and tried to yank her sword out. It didn¡¯t budge. She sighed and began to work it back and forth to free it. This made the dead man look like he was slowly shaking his head.


    ¡°Looks like he doesn¡¯t like being pinned down,¡± Sigrun muttered.


    ¡°What?¡± Bird asked.


    Sigrun¡¯s face reddened and she kicked the sword off the dead man¡¯s head and porch both. Her haste caused her to lose her balance and she stumbled back.


    Bird caught her. Embarrassed, she shrugged out of his grip and walked to the edge of the house. She looked out into the falling snow, and took several deep breaths.


    Bird approached from behind, scuffing his feet so she¡¯d hear his approach. He thought she was fragile. She was trying not to laugh. She didn¡¯t want to seem amused by the death, and have him think her a monster. She wasn¡¯t amused. Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to hold back the laughter. She blinked them back, furious at her body¡¯s betrayal.


    ¡°You need to answer that question now.¡± Bird said.


    Sigrun didn¡¯t look at him. She nodded. She took several more deep breaths. ¡°I think¡ª¡° her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. She turned to face Bird. She schooled her face into calm. ¡°I think you¡¯re right.¡±


    ¡°What were your orders, Sigrun?¡±


    ¡°My orders are to take Tythos to Thonos gap, and use the hand to secure an agreement between Tythos and the commanding officer upon arrival.¡±


    Bird let out a low whistle. ¡°You really stepped in it, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    Sigrun didn¡¯t respond.


    ¡°What are you going to do?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to deliver Tythos to Thonos gap.¡±


    Bird clucked his tongue, ¡°Loyal to a fault, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I am the King¡¯s man,¡± Sigrun replied.


    Bird looked at the soldiers in the yard, ¡°Even if the King has betrayed you?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s impossible to betray something you own. If the King wishes my death, he has but to ask for it.¡±


    ¡°Well goddamn, you¡¯re serious, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Sigrun looked him in the eye. Bird nodded.


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°Okay?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll act as hunter for your group until we reach Thonos Gap. What do you plan to do if we meet a group of the King¡¯s soldiers with orders to kill us?¡±


    ¡°My orders are to deliver Tythos to Thonos Gap at all costs.¡±


    Bird nodded, ¡°You and I are going to get along just fine.¡±


    A blood curdling scream rang out from the direction Tythos had gone. It had a wet tearing quality that spoke of horror and pain. Sigrun and Bird shot each other a look. The scream cut off abruptly.


    ¡°Do we¡­ check it out?¡± Bird asked.


    ¡°We¡¯re gonna have to,¡± Sigrun said.


    ¡°I was afraid you¡¯d say that.¡±


    ***


    Tythos slowed as he began climbing the bluff. This portion was a steep slope, heavily wooded despite the angle. He leaned against a tree, breathing hard. He was lightheaded.


    ¡°You let yourself get fat, old man,¡± Tythos muttered.


    He pushed off the tree and began moving up the hill at a slower pace. There was less snow among the trees, but the undergrowth was an equal problem for his bare feet. He was trying to pick his way forward, but his feet being numb didn¡¯t help. He was leaving a trail of bloody smudges on the damp leaf litter in his wake. He was lucky he was hunting men. The smell of his blood wouldn¡¯t give him away.


    Tythos paused again at the top of the bluff. He had not done much walking or running over the last decade. Not compared to when he was soldiering. He shook his head. If the men he was hunting saw him coming, they could just run and he¡¯d never catch them.


    He caught his breath again and opened his mouth until his ears popped. He listened to the forest sounds, and looked for any sign left behind by the men he was after. He didn¡¯t hear anything. The forest was covered by the dense silence a heavy snowstorm brought. He looked up at the dark clouds overhead. A fat snowflake landed in his eye.


    ¡°I might¡¯ve overdone it,¡± he muttered.


    He blinked his eyes clear then scanned the forest floor for sign, or a trail, or¡­ he really didn¡¯t know what he was looking for.


    ¡°Damnit. I should have brought the hunter.¡±


    Tythos had sent the nightmare off ahead to scout for him. This was how he¡¯d handled situations like this in the past. Only, in the past he¡¯d been able to maintain contact with the creature and even shift his senses into it for a while. It¡¯d been a huge advantage, allowing him the sense of smell and hearing of an animal. The world had felt dulled since he had lost that. He thought he would be getting that back with his hand. He¡¯d gotten something else instead. While the creature was off scouting, he didn¡¯t have its voice in his head.


    Tythos stood for a moment under the trees and breathed the air. He felt a sense of peace that had only existed when he was visiting farmer Sagget¡¯s farm. Tythos smiled and began walking in the direction he thought most likely for the soldiers to be in. He felt a tug on his awareness. The creature merged its awareness with his.


    ¡°I found them.¡±


    ¡°Which way?¡± Tythos whispered. When their awareness was connected, the nightmare could hear Tythos however quietly he spoke. It could not hear his thoughts. He had tested this extensively. If it could, he was pretty sure he would no longer have his sanity.


    ¡°Further north.¡±


    ¡°North? There¡¯s nothing out that direction.¡±


    ¡°There is now.¡±


    ¡°Shit. Reinforcements?¡±


    ¡°Yeees.¡±


    ¡°I knew I forgot to ask something. How many?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ve put down wards.¡±


    ¡°Wards? You mean you coudln¡¯t get in their camp?¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t even see them anymore once they crossed the line.¡±


    ¡°Wow. I don¡¯t even know how to do that. That¡¯s not good. Wait, would it be possible to create a general ward that did that and also affected you?¡±


    ¡°As in a ward that generally kept out all transcorporeal entities, not limited to, but including little old meee?¡±


    ¡°What? Is that a stupid question?¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s theroetically possible, but anything with a soul that crossed the line would be discorporated.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s bad?¡±


    ¡°Only if you want the things crossing the line to live.¡±


    ¡°Ah. So they warded against you specifically since the scouts crossed.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And they did a better job of warding against you than I know how to do.¡±


    ¡°They do seem rather prepared.¡±


    ¡°Great. Now I¡¯ve got more questions. Next time I¡¯m torturing someone, remind me to be more thorough.¡±


    ¡°You tortured someone without me?¡±


    ¡°They tied up and executed the Gladwells. Made the mother watch, then did her last. I was maybe a minute too late to save her.¡±


    ¡°Oh. You¡¯re going to kill them all, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s put eyes on that camp. If they¡¯ve discovered how to ward against human eyes I¡¯m going to have more questions.¡±


    ***

 Chapter 6, Memories and Whispers

    The snow was coming down harder and an early twilight had fallen. Tythos was sitting under a low shelter of branches, rubbing blood flow back into his feet. The nightmare was sitting beside him in the snow. Tythos didn¡¯t have the mental energy to keep it attached. The physical refreshment he got when it consumed the soldiers didn¡¯t refresh his mind. If he deepened his bond with the creature, that sort of thing might become possible. To completely refresh himself feasting on the death and suffering of others. That was never going to happen. What he had done and what he had become were already unforgivable.


    Laid out in neat rows below, an army encampment had grown up in the clearing. Tythos counted the tents and tried to see if the solders were mobilizing, or if the storm was delaying their plans.


    ¡°What the hells?¡± Tythos muttered after a minute of watching.


    ¡°What do you see?¡± Said the Nightmare.


    ¡°You seriously can¡¯t see any of that?¡±


    ¡°Stop dragging it out, what¡¯s down there?¡±


    ¡°Remind me not to kill them all before I learn how to draw these wards.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just rude.¡±


    ¡°If it can be scaled down I can get it as a tattoo.¡±


    ¡°That wouldn¡¯t break our bond, it would just cut me off from you.¡±


    Tythos shrugged, ¡°Ehh¡ª sometimes you gotta take what you can get.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not being serious¡ª are you?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll find out when I learn to draw these.¡±


    ¡°You know we¡¯d both die slowly¡ª right?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not a dealbreaker.¡±


    ¡°Are you going to go kill everyone or not?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple. Based on the tent layout, there are sixty, maybe seventy five soldiers down there.¡±


    ¡°Why is that surprising?¡±


    ¡°What do you know that I don¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°How many men would you bring to kill everyone in this valley without word getting out?¡±


    ¡°Why does this sound like something you¡¯ve already thought through?¡±


    ¡°Of course I¡¯ve thought it through. I try to think of seven different ways to kill everyone before breakfast.¡±


    ¡°Your hobbies are disgusting.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not a hobby, it¡¯s a practical mental exercise. My hobbies are¡ª¡°


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare finish that sentence.¡±


    ¡°You never show any interest in the things I like.¡±


    ¡°Is this the part where you tell me about your unexpressed teenage angst?¡±


    ¡°You know we could work together much better if you got to know me.¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never spent energy to deepen our soul bond.¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re squandering our potential.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my life you¡¯re wasting too.¡±


    ¡°Everybody needs a hobby.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why I bother talking to you sometimes.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a slow learner.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m the only one who cares about you, you know.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d torture and kill me in a second if we weren¡¯t bonded.¡±


    ¡°Well yeees, but we are, so I love you like you¡¯re my own flesh.¡±


    ¡°I want you to stop talking to me now.¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯m booored, I thought you were going to kill everyone.¡±


    ¡°You have any bright ideas on how I can handle a camp of seventy five soldiers by myself, while cut off from all your demonic tools?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been over this, they¡¯re not demonic.¡±


    ¡°A steaming pile by any other name¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just rude.¡±


    ¡°Well, Mr-I-think-up-seven-ways-to-kill-everyone?¡±


    ¡°Stab them all in their sleep?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d need twenty five good men to pull that off.¡±


    ¡°Drag them into the woods one by one?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯d just mobilize and force my hand by marching on the valley.¡±


    ¡°Challenge their champion to a duel, winner takes all?¡±


    ¡°As fun as that sounds, you know the loser never honors the bet.¡±


    ¡°You did.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t count. Are you out of ideas at three?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t hear you coming up with any.¡±


    ¡°What would happen if we modified the warding rune?¡±


    ¡°Oooh¡­ Oh that might work¡­ wait, no. You¡¯d have to channel magic inside of the wards, and you can¡¯t do that without me.¡±


    Tythos didn¡¯t mention that he thought he could. After powering the sword without the creature, he suspected something that big would kill him. That wasn¡¯t his first choice. He had managed to work feeling back into one of his feet, so he crossed his legs and began work on the other.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to have to rendezvous with that band of misfits anyway,¡± Tythos said after a moment of thought.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°We made a deal. You know what violating that would do to us.¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯re thinking about it wrong. Agreeing to help them is open to interpretation. What better way to help than to never see them again? Of course, murdering them and saving them the agony of living is better, but you already rejected that.¡±


    ¡°No. I¡¯m not all twisted up like you. When I agree to help, that means I¡¯m going to help.¡±


    ¡°This is why you need to deepen our bond, you¡¯re very narrow minded.¡± The Nightmare reached clawed hands toward his head. ¡°I could broaden your horizons.¡±


    Tythos flinched away from its reach. ¡°That¡¯s gross.¡±


    ¡°What? No! I didn¡¯t mean¡ª you¡¯re gross!¡±


    Tythos decided the soldiers would wait until the storm passed to march on the valley. They may have orders, but soldiers were the same in any army.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got to get going, or risk losing them in this storm.¡± Tythos said.


    ¡°That would be bad?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Which way is it back to the farm?¡±


    ¡°You have the worst sense of direction.¡±


    ¡°I got used to using your senses, being stuck in mine is like being deaf and half-blind.¡±


    ¡°What would you do without me?¡±


    ¡°Find happiness, peace and fulfillment in life.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just rude.¡±


    ***


    Birdge put out an arm and tried to push Sigrun back. She was bigger than he was and wearing half-plate. He might as well have been trying to push a horse.


    ¡°Back up damnit!¡±


    Sigrun put her hand over her mouth and started coughing, stumbling back. Birdge guided her further back. He waited until they were a good ten paces away before drawing in a breath.


    They had almost stepped into a fuming, acid sludge that was melting the snow with a hiss. The low visibility had caused it to appear with no warning. There was no sign of Tythos, or the dead soldier that had been in this area. Birdge walked in several circles to make sure, while Sigrun caught her breath. He found a pair of shoes, with the toes slowly melting, and the tracks of a running man. The snow was filling them in quickly and Birdge didn¡¯t bother to follow. Maybe he would be able to catch Tythos before the trail disappeared, but he had just agreed to be responsible for the whole group.


    ¡°This storm¡¯s getting worse,¡± said Birdge. ¡°We need to gather the group and take shelter.¡±


    ¡°What did we almost step in?¡± Sigrun¡¯s eyes were fixed on the viscous acid and bloodstained snow.


    ¡°Proof that not everything I heard about Tythos In the war were rumors.¡±


    ¡°Where is he?¡±


    ¡°He ran off.¡±


    ¡°Damnit! Can you track him?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t insult me. Of course I can.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go! We¡¯ve got to catch him.¡±


    ¡°We need to gather our people.¡±


    ¡°I have orders¡ª¡°


    ¡°Who do you think is more likely to die in this storm? The unarmed man who just killed an entire unit of king¡¯s soldiers, or the people who somehow couldn¡¯t follow us here?¡±


    Sigrun looked like she wanted go chasing after Tythos. She clenched her jaw, staring out into the snow. After a moment she blew out a deep breath and nodded.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get the horses and go look for the group and then some shelter,¡± Sigrun said.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we just stay here? We got shelter and a stable for the horses. We¡¯re not going to find better than this.¡±


    ¡°Here? But¡­¡± Sigrun gestured around at the yard.


    ¡°But no one is going to be using it tonight.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Sigrun looked conflicted, ¡°Do you think Tythos really knew these people?¡±


    ¡°You mean, do I think he killed them?¡±


    Sigrun nodded.


    ¡°He couldn¡¯t have, not the way the bodies fell.¡±


    ¡°You sure?¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. You saw the most important part yourself. You ever see that kind of wrath from a man when the target hadn¡¯t done him a personal wrong?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Sigrun looked uncertain, ¡°No¡­¡±


    ¡°Maybe you¡¯re too young. I suppose the better question is, you ever seen death in the field before?¡±


    ¡°Once, but it wasn¡¯t¡­ it wasn¡¯t like this.¡±


    Birdge nodded, ¡°Then just take my word for it. Tythos didn¡¯t kill the farmers.¡±


    Sigrun visibly shook herself. Her posture straightened and light returned to her eyes. ¡°Let¡¯s get the horses and go find them before Peony starts lighting fires.¡±


    ***


    The clothes Tythos was wearing were not made for a blizzard. The day had not started out warm to begin with, but it had not been cold. He¡¯d dressed with plans to turn earth in a garden. He was now wading through snow up to his shins.


    The snow reminded Tythos of another life. One where he¡¯d still been small.


    The long strides of his father seemed impossibly far apart. Taking two or three steps for his father¡¯s every one, Tythos thought he¡¯d need a hundred years to ever grow so big.


    They were returning from a hunt. The winter was hanging on this year, snow on the ground having remade the world. He and his father had on snow-feet, light banded wood with leather strips woven between to give them a wide step. You needed snow feet in a winter world. It was like walking on a white ocean. Without the snow-feet, it would swallow a man whole, and not spit him out until the thaw. Even with the snow-feet, the hungry white was deadly. Whole trees were swallowed up by the white ocean, becoming deadly pitfalls if you walked over them.


    Tythos¡¯s job was as a sounder. He scouted ahead, found the dangerous snow, and plotted a path around it. His father was dragging the litter with the meat from their kill. They¡¯d had to range far out to find the elk, and it was now maybe a two day walk back. They¡¯d only been able to take a quarter of the animal. Walking back over the deep white, a snow litter would only bear so much. Overload it, and it would sink beneath.


    They¡¯d dug a snow shelter for the rest of the meat. This was a gamble, because it was an investment of time, and burying the meat would not keep the wolverines from finding it. It had been too long between kills, so his father decided to take what they could carry, and race against the wolverines to try and come back for more.


    The meat they had was carefully wrapped after being rubbed with special oil that smelled of herbs. This helped cut the meat smell from the air, which could attract the wolverines, or worse, one of the great ghost bears. If the meat smell attracted either of these, they¡¯d hunt and kill the men, happy to eat man or elk.


    Tythos had fought a wolverine with his father once. They¡¯d set an ambush for it once they knew it was stalking them. A wolverine would stalk a man for days, and then dig him out of his snow-home while he slept.


    ¡°I found someone for you to kiiill,¡± the Nightmare sang the last word.


    The voice of the creature ripped Tythos from thoughts about the past. He blinked, surprised to find himself walking. He must be too cold if he had been lost in a walking dream.


    ¡°What did you find?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a group of soldiers. They look lost.¡±


    ¡°How many?¡±


    ¡°Only Seven, including their pair of scouts.¡±


    ¡°Same number I found at the Gladwell¡¯s place. Damnit. Can you tell if they¡¯re coming from another farm?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then we better go ask them. Can you do that trick where you swallow one of them?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but that will occupy my whole form. You won¡¯t be able to channel or manifest. And I can only swallow one.¡±


    ¡°Fine. I don¡¯t have the energy to manifest or channel right now anyway.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re out of shape.¡±


    ¡°What are they armed with?¡±


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t cost so much to manifest if you deepened our bond.¡±


    ¡°Which way are they headed?¡±


    ¡°All you¡¯d have to do is give me another one of your names.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not talking about this right now.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re beginning to freeze, unarmed and about to get into a fight with five armed soldiers.¡±


    ¡°I hadn¡¯t planned on standing here and freezing to death, but if you don¡¯t tell me what I need to know, I might just give it a try.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re such a meanie. Fine, they all have swords, and one is armed with a crossbow.¡±


    ¡°Straight swords?¡±


    ¡°Standard issue.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll never understand why they favor those things.¡±


    ¡°Just think of the beauty of a tool that¡¯s heavy enough to be effective against an unarmed target even if it¡¯s dull as a stone.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s for shit. Staff or a quarter-staff would be cheaper and more effective. Hell, a good cudgel would be even better.¡±


    ¡°But the sword is more intimidating.¡±


    ¡°Only to the ignorant.¡±


    ¡°Then why do you manifest a straight sword?¡±


    ¡°Never mind¡ª which way are they?¡±


    ¡°I want to learn more about cudgels, they sound sexy.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re disgusting.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the one that aroused my interest.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯ll drop it, I¡¯ll show you what a cudgel is good for the next time I have one.¡±


    ¡°What does it take to make one? You¡¯re unarmed.¡±


    ¡°Something sturdy, about the length of my forearm, good handle. Best case, it¡¯s got a heavier head with some weight behind the handle. Something that won¡¯t crack when you split a skull with it.¡±


    ¡°I might have something that would work.¡±


    ¡°What, you find a stick? The local wood¡¯s too brittle or too soft, won¡¯t work.¡±


    ¡°No, even better.¡±


    The nightmare came striding out of the swirling snow, a huge grin on its face. It opened its mouth wide and began making a choking sound. Tythos jumped back, wary of more acid. With a strange clatter, something white spilled out of its open mouth. Tythos took a step closer and saw it was a pile of bones. They were dry and clean. He moved the pile until he found a skull and picked it up. It was a horse skeleton.


    ¡°What the hells?¡±


    ¡°I might¡¯ve found a horse I didn¡¯t tell you about.¡±


    ¡°And¡­ you just had the bones somehow?¡±


    ¡°I like to collect them.¡±


    ¡°Collect them.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I have all sorts.¡±


    ¡°You mean you¡¯ve got more somewhere?¡±


    ¡°I keep the bones from everything I consume.¡±


    ¡°How is this the first time this has ever come up?¡±


    ¡°You really should spend time getting to know me¡­ You¡®ve never even asked my name.¡±


    ¡°You mean, even when you¡¯re attached to me, you have the bones of everything you¡¯ve ever consumed?¡±


    ¡°Yeees,¡± it drew out the word, like this should have been obvious.


    ¡°How the hell does that even¡ª you know what, never mind.¡±


    Tythos looked down at the skull in his hand. He set it down and fished through the pile until he found the jawbone. With some effort, he pulled the two curved pieces of the jaw apart until they snapped. He hefted the separated piece of bone. It had a good weight to it, and the space between the molars and the front teeth made a perfect handle. It felt more like a hand-axe than a cudgel, but it would get the job done. Tythos grinned.


    ¡°Lead the way to those soldiers and I¡¯ll show you what good a cudgel is in a fight.¡±


    ***

 Chapter 7, Seven King’s Soldiers

    Chapter 7


    Camfer was pretty sure he was going to die. He¡¯d been having one of his feelings, but this one had lasted longer than usual. He still had it after¡­ well, after he¡¯d done the thing, and it was still getting worse.


    The first time he¡¯d gotten a feeling, he hadn¡¯t known what it was. His unit had been ordered to investigate complaints of thefts surrounding a rural farming area. Typically orders like this saw the men escorting one or more belligerent farmers to the local adjunct to hand down a ruling. Only he¡¯d gotten a feeling.


    It¡¯d started when he¡¯d woken up, and persisted all day as they rode out to investigate and hassle the complaining farmers. It was like being watched and having forgotten something important you were supposed to do at the same time. A nagging tug at the edge of his awareness that wouldn¡¯t leave him alone.


    He¡¯d tried to tell the others about it, feeling certain it meant something, but he¡¯d been mocked and ribbed into silence. They¡¯d ridden in to discover it was no farmer that was causing trouble. It had been one of those border-crossing wild men, they seemed to always be vaguely at war with. He¡¯d fought like a maniac and killed one man and wounded several of the others before they brought him down. The wild men were savages.


    That¡¯d been the first, but it hadn¡¯t been the last. Every time the unit was headed for danger, or one of ¡°those¡± tasks¡ª the kind that took some of your soul away¡ª Camfer would get a feeling. The men paid attention now. Trouble was, he¡¯d had the feeling since they were ordered to ride out. That was five days ago. No feeling had ever lasted this long before. The amount of time he had the feeling before the event usually indicated the severity. The longest was almost three days, which had ended with the death of Barry, who he¡¯d become close to.


    What they¡¯d just done had been horrible. Everyone was walking in silence in the blowing snow. Orders had been to put down some local farmers who were intent on raising the Tyrannous banner and starting another war. They were supposed to put down anyone who even knew the name¡ª which was stupid, because everyone knew the name¡ª and amounted to being ordered to kill a bunch of farmers. This had been one of those things deserving of a feeling. One of the things that took part of your soul.


    They followed orders. Questioned and killed the farmers. It hadn¡¯t been sitting right with anyone, but every man here was loyal and followed orders. That was the job of a soldier. To do unpleasant things. Trouble was, the feeling hadn¡¯t gone away. It had gotten worse. It was now an ache in the back of his teeth.


    The temperature had dropped and the snow was piling up. No one in the unit was dressed for this kind of weather. A blizzard this time of year was weird.


    Camfer leaned into the wind and snow and trudged up the file of men. They were spread out, waking in single file to make going easier. When he got to the head of the column he spoke up,


    ¡°Feelin ain¡¯t gone away sir. I¡¯m start¡¯n think maybe I¡¯m gonna die.¡±


    Commander Roth looked up from the compass he was holding. He was as solid man, and a good commander. He always listened when one of his men brought something to him.


    ¡°Once we find shelter that feeling will go away. Now go get back in line Cam.¡±


    ¡°Sir, I don¡¯t mean to pry, but¡ª we lost?¡±


    Roth¡¯s eyes flashed, ¡°Back in line soldier!¡±


    Camfer straightened, ¡°Sir!¡±


    He stood where he was and let the line march past until his place came up. There were only seven men, but standing still emphasized the slowness with which they were moving. The two scouts would normally range ahead, but the storm had grown so bad they¡¯d joined the unit and were now marching in line. Camfer couldn¡¯t blame them. You could walk ten feet from the line of men and lose them in this.


    Jovey caught his eye as Camfer stepped back in line, ¡°Well?¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± Camfer said, ¡°we lost.¡±


    ¡°Shit.¡±


    ¡°Mmm-hmm.¡±


    ¡°Feeling still there?¡±


    Camfer said nothing.


    ¡°We¡¯re all gonna freeze to death.¡±


    ¡°Now we don¡¯t know that, maybe it just me.¡±


    Jovey gave him a flat look.


    ¡°Yeah alright, just work on walkin,¡± Camfer adjusted his helmet.


    Jovey snorted, ¡°You just admit you think we¡¯re gonna die and tell me to keep walking?¡±


    ¡°Least it keep you warm.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t argue with that.¡±


    They trudged on, the only sound the blowing wind and their feet in the snow. Camfer could hear the shifting of his pack, because he¡¯d brought a warm hat. It covered his ears and blocked some of the blowing wind. One of his uncles had lost an ear in the war to the cold, and told Camfer to pack a hat everywhere. Camfer had taken the advice to heart and was the only one with a warm hat in the unit. It helped his helmet fit better. Helmets were always too big, and would slide around on his head.


    The line stopped abruptly and Camfer ran into the guy ahead of him. Instead of yelling at him, his focus remained in front, something at the head of the line having arrested his attention. Camfer leaned around him to try and get a look.


    Through the swirls of snow Camfer could just make out a man blocking the way forward. On first glance he looked like a farmer, dressed in a simple shirt and pants, beard grown out like a commoner. Then as the man¡¯s eyes passed over the line of men, Camfer¡¯s bad feeling stung him. This caused him to look closer, and he saw that this man¡¯s sleeves and pant legs were already stained with blood. Camfer had seen enough of it that he could tell even at a distance in a blizzard: This man was death.


    Camfer fumbled at the bag his crossbow was wrapped in. The snow was falling so wet and thick that he¡¯d put the weapon away. He liked the weapon, he¡¯d even named it¡ª Marge, after his mother-in-law. They both could be a hard-nosed bitch when the time called for it.


    Commander Roth ordered the man in the path to identify himself.


    ¡°That a farmer?¡± Jovey asked.


    ¡°Something else,¡± Camfer managed to free Marge from the bag.


    ¡°You gonna shoot him?¡±


    ¡°That feelin¡¯ been houndin¡¯ me all week; that feelin is rollin off him like stink off shit.¡±


    ¡°Well damn.¡± Jovey peered around the line at the man in the road. He stuck his hands in his armpits and stamped his feet. ¡°He don¡¯t look like trouble. Probably froze to death standing there. I¡¯m so numb; don¡¯t know if I could hold my sword.¡±


    Jovey had a point. It took Camfer three tries load Marge with numb fingers. The man in the road hadn¡¯t moved. Commander Roth signaled Lou and Yance. Both men drew swords. Commander Roth issued an ultimatum to the man to identify himself or be cut down.


    ¡°You won¡¯t need¡¯a hold yer sword. Marge is about to shaft this fucker right in the eye¡ª¡°


    ***


    The line of soldiers came to a stop when they caught sight of him. Tythos stared at them, trying to get a good look at their uniforms. The dark clouds overhead and blowing snow made this difficult.


    ¡°Can you see their uniforms clearly?¡± Tythos was speaking too low to be heard by anyone but the nightmare.


    ¡°You know, I can¡¯t see clothes at all,¡± said the creature.


    ¡°What? Since when?¡±


    ¡°Since always.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense. When I was in your senses¡ª¡°


    ¡°You were never in my senses, you were projecting and amplifying your own.¡±Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Huh. So what do these men look like to you?¡±


    ¡°It would be easier to show you¡ª if you would just deepen our bond.¡±


    ¡°Out of the question.¡±


    The men in the line were shuffling forward, peering around each other to see why they had stopped. The man in front looked like he wished Tythos would go away before he had to acknowledge his existence and deal with him.


    ¡°Just give me an example and we¡¯ll talk about it later.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± The nightmare sounded hopeful.


    ¡°Yes. Damnit, hurry up, I want you covering the crossbowman.¡±


    ¡°Well, the man with the crossbow is afraid of you. The others are annoyed or curious.¡±


    ¡°You can see fear?¡±


    ¡°I can see a spectrum of emotions, it¡¯s not so simple. The crossbowman sees a little bit the way I do. That¡¯s why he¡¯s so scared and has already decided to kill you.¡±


    ¡°Okay¡­ take him out of the fight, but don¡¯t kill him.¡±


    ¡°But you said¡ª¡°


    ¡°I¡¯ll get you some one else, I want to talk to that man.¡±


    The man at the front of the line looked like he¡¯d made up his mind and made a subtle gesture to the men behind him. ¡°Identify yourself!¡± He shouted.


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t recognize you,¡± Said the nightmare.


    ¡°No kidding. Seems disgrace is a great disguise.¡±


    The men in the line started muttering, to them it would appear Tythos was just standing there.


    ¡°They¡¯re getting antsy. The one in front is about to try and kill you.¡±


    ¡°Even I can see that. This doesn¡¯t add up though. Why would they bring a whole centurum but send individual units to the farms?¡±


    The man in front issued an ultimatum. Tythos ignored him, continuing to think out loud,


    ¡°It¡¯s worse than that, why would they ward against you, but not tell these men I was in the valley?¡±


    ¡°You sure they are coming from a farm, they could be Endelmyers¡¯s men.¡±


    ¡°Shit. You¡¯re right.¡± Tythos spoke up and addressed the line of soldiers, ¡°You boys coming from a farm?¡±


    ¡°Oooh, they¡¯re all afraid of you nooow, some are even ashamed.¡±


    The man in front made another gesture and ordered his men to clear the path.


    ¡°Guess that¡¯s a yes,¡± Tythos eyed the line of soldiers.


    ***


    ¡°You boys coming from a farm?¡± The man¡¯s voice boomed, and rolled over the line, startling and halting everyone. He had a commander¡¯s voice and was easily heard over the storm.


    ¡°Shit,¡± Jovey said. ¡°He don¡¯t sound like a farmer.¡± He reached for his sword.


    ¡°Clear the path,¡± Commander Roth ordered.


    Camfer stepped to the side, but now Yance was in his line of fire. Lou and Yance advanced with swords out, heading for opposite sides of the man.


    ¡°Guess that¡¯s a yes,¡± the man said. He seemed unconcerned with the two armed soldiers advancing on him, instead looking at the remaining five men in line. ¡°Which one of you is best at answering questions?¡±


    Lou stepped in with a clean lunge, center mass. The man turned with the lunge, guiding the sword to the side of his body with an almost casual grace and slapped him. The sound of breaking bones told the truth of that slap, like breaking an egg, only louder. Lou collapsed into a limp pile. Camfer saw the man was holding a white club, or piece of bone. It hadn¡¯t been a slap, it¡¯d been a strike.


    Lou was in a bad way and Yance was still blocking his shot. Cursing, Camfer began walking wide to get an angle. Yance drew a dagger and shifted to sword and dagger. Camfer¡¯s feeling was still getting worse.


    Yance jabbed with the sword, ready with the dagger if the man got in close. The man swatted the sword with the club. He caught it on the flat, and the sword rang as it swung in the wrong direction. Camfer winced. He knew what a ringing sword would feel like with cold fingers. The man stood and waited while Yance got his sword under control.


    Camfer stumbled in the snow and heard the sword ring again while he got up. He heard Yance yell and looked. The man was still standing there, poised, but looking unconcerned. Yance looked angry.


    ¡°Crossbowman!¡± Commander Roth yelled.


    ¡°Sir!¡± Camfer responded, brushing the snow from the weapon. Yance yelled again, and again the sword rang. Camfer looked up and saw the man had stepped in this time. There was a slap and the dagger Yance held spun away. Yance brought the sword back in a sweep, but the man stepped close and head-butted him. Cursing again, Camfer stepped to the side once more to try and get a shot, and fell into a hole.


    He fell nearly straight down and caught himself with his elbows. The crossbow went off, bucking painfully with the awkward angle. Camfer dropped it and tried to push himself up, but it felt like he¡¯d fallen into mud. The hole sucked at him, preventing him from pulling free.


    There was another ringing strike followed by a crunch. Camfer looked up in time to see Yance crumple. Then his feet and legs began to burn. Camfer began to scream.


    ***


    The nightmare grabbed the crossbowman freeing Tythos up to get in close. The screams were a nice touch. The whole line of men turned to look.


    Tythos leapt among them as they began to group up, taking full advantage of their distraction. The man in command was the closest, and the quickest to react. Tythos dashed past him as he brought his sword to bear. The men behind the commander looked startled to see him. He hooked the closest behind the neck with the jawbone and pulled him stumbling into the commander. This left two men standing in front of him. They both raised their guards. Tythos stepped in and began swinging.


    It was stupid, engaging like this. With the blizzard he could have gotten half of them, or more, before they ever saw him. Especially with the nightmare¡¯s new bizarre ability to swallow people. But he wanted them to see it coming.


    Tythos twisted past a thrust and brought the bone down on a man¡¯s shoulder. Something inside the man snapped. A step behind was unmistakable and Tythos twisted just enough to guide the thrust into the man he¡¯d just clubbed.


    He was making emotional decisions in the field. In a fight. He knew this was the wrong move. Ten years out of practice and he was taking them head on. Taking risks. Taking hits too.


    ***


    Camfer stopped screaming when he saw the terrifying man leap amongst his unit. Cursing, he reached for his crossbow, pushing down the pain and panic to try and do his job. When he reached for the weapon, the mud he was in sucked him down a little farther. His legs were on fire. He kept expecting the snow around his waist to belch forth smoke.


    He had hold of the weapon now, but had to keep his elbows on the ground to keep from being pulled deeper. He strained against the cord on the weapon, even letting go and sinking a little deeper. He gave up on this right before his head sunk beneath the piled snow around him.


    He looked on helplessly as the man stepped between sword strokes and broke bones with his strange club. He took every opportunity to hit the men around him and confuse their efforts to spread out and surround him.


    The man¡¯s strikes with the club were fast, flashing out at any target in range. By contrast, his movements seemed slow, flowing, but it was like he always knew where he needed to stand. He stepped out of the way of sword strokes and thrusts with the casual grace of a dancing performer.


    Commander Roth, who was the best of them, managed to land a hit with his sword, but the man stepped in and tangled the sword up with his bone club. Commander Roth landed a solid punch and it looked like the fight was over.


    ***


    The commander turned out to be a brawler and landed a solid punch when his sword got tied up. Tythos let go of the bone cudgel, and grabbed the man by the first thing he could reach. He caught the man¡¯s lower jaw. Two fingers right in his mouth. The man instinctively tried to spit them out, jerk back. Wrong move. Ten years had added strength to the hand doing the work of two. Tythos yanked downward with all his might. There was a loud crack and the man fell forward, onto him.


    Tythos twisted away from the falling man, managing to keep his feet. He took a step away and someone hit him with a sword. It struck him in the back and he twisted and caught hold of the blade. He yanked hard and the man stumbled. Tythos kicked him in the knee. A quick snap-kick to the side. The joint buckled and the man fell. Tythos found himself holding a sword, so he pinned the fallen man to the ground with it.


    He ducked a thrust, found his jawbone cudgel, rolled forward and crushed the instep of the attacker. The man fell onto him, losing his sword, but managed to grab Tythos by the throat. It was the commander, his broken jaw hanging, leaving his mouth open impossibly wide. The jaw flapped loosely from where it hung, as he struggled with Tythos.


    Tythos let the man have the hold on his throat. He still had the cudgel. He pinned the hands with his chin and started swinging. The commander fell away after three and Tythos followed and finished him with several blows to the head.


    Breathing hard, Tythos stood. The man who¡¯d taken the gut wound was trying to get up. Tythos walked over and finished him. Two dead, one pinned with a sword and one beaten unconscious. The man pinned by the sword was whimpering, so Tythos walked over and ended it for him.


    Tythos turned toward the crossbowman. The man had a look of horror on his face, cut by obvious pain. Just his upper torso was above ground, his head not far above the snow. His crossbow lay right in front of him. Tythos walked over and looked down at the man.


    ¡°Spit him out,¡± Tythos said.


    The dark creature rose out of the ground, the man rising with it. Wide eyed, he flailed his arms for purchase, but remained silent. Looking down at the creature that had swallowed his legs and lower torso with a look of horror. Tythos had seen that look on men¡¯s faces before. That was the look you gave a missing limb.


    Tythos sighed. Horror sometimes turned the mind off. Tythos thought it retreated, taking with it the parts of the person that were still good. Keeping the horror from tainting what should remain inviolate. He¡¯d seen men go away. Some came back; some didn¡¯t. Nothing Tythos knew of could affect when, or if, they did. And this was the man he¡¯d chosen to question.


    The creature reached its full height, bent over and vomited the man out. Tythos skipped back, not wanting to get splashed by the acid. The man flopped onto the ground, but was not followed by a flood of bile. Tythos stepped closer. The man actually looked to be intact. He¡¯d been unsure if the man was going to come out with his legs half melted.


    Tythos grunted, ¡°So you can swallow someone without covering them in acid?¡± This might offer some interesting smuggling options if he could make someone disappear into thin air.


    ¡°Nooo,¡± the nightmare said. ¡°I emptied my stomach less than an hour ago. At your request. It takes time and energy to replace the acid.¡±


    ¡°And then I let you consume him.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not the same.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ going to regret asking, but how is it different?¡±


    ¡°You killed him. All that was left for me to consume was death. I can no more live on only death than you can just bread. Mmm, I need to balance my diet.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh. And what? You were consuming the man¡¯s soul and I released it?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous. I don¡¯t consume souls. That would be evil. I need fear, pain, despair, and heartbreak to balance my diet.¡±


    ¡°Right. That¡¯s so much better. Not evil at all. You know what? I do regret asking. This is what I get for breaking my rule about asking you questions.¡±


    ¡°You have a rule about asking me questions?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and it¡¯s getting stricter, believe me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just rude.¡±


    The crossbowman was laying as he¡¯d fallen, staring up at Tythos. Tythos crouched down in front of him.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±


    The man¡¯s eyes slid off of him and rolled to where the men were lying dead in the snow. Tythos snapped his fingers in front of the man¡¯s face.


    ¡°Name and rank soldier!¡±


    ¡°Camfer Trebeu, Citizen, third class, loader, sir!¡± The response tumbled out of the man at the command, and he looked surprised to have given it.


    ¡°Alright Camfer, how good are you at answering questions?¡±


    ***

 Chapter 8, Questions and Answers

    Chapter 8


    Regina Louisa Marino had her head down against Lance¡¯s back to keep it out of the wind. She¡¯d volunteered to ride double with him because she was the smallest and Lance was good looking. He was a higher class than he was pretending to be, and she also wanted to get friendly enough to figure out what was going on. Her money was on Lance for having some damn answers. Even if he didn¡¯t, she was not above stringing him along for a while until she found some dirt on him. It was amazing the kind of situations you could create or get out of if you had dirt on a high-class.


    Regina had strung along powerful men before. She was good at it. She knew the kind of effect her looks had on men. Especially in something form-fitting. She was currently wearing almost everything she¡¯d brought to try and ward off the cold. She looked like a pile of clothes riding a horse.


    Regina knew secrets about most of the good looking nobles and even a few of the royals in Highfall. She¡¯d been in the palace a time or two, and once for pleasure, instead of work. Her political games were part of her private life. Her efforts to build enough political status that she could become a Citizen and legally own property. More importantly, so she could stop working for the Order and work for herself, without worrying about the Order finding out.


    She¡¯d been pulled off a job in the city, where she was tasked with infiltrating a gang called the crimson hoods. She was to learn the leadership structure, and then kill head and replace with an agent to be assigned. Her orders to leave had been sudden. She¡¯d been handed an envelope, marked priority when she¡¯d checked in. She was sent to Sigrun¡¯s unit that day. Orders made it clear failure would result in loss of status, and possibly treason against the king. She was to accompany this group to Thonos Gap, and quietly disappear anyone who recognized their charge. She¡¯d recognized the name. It had sent a chill through her. She¡¯d believed the man was dead.


    She¡¯d been little when he¡¯d sacked Highfall and taken the throne. She¡¯d been living on the streets as a thief, no family or guild not even knowing her own age.


    She¡¯d seen the wall fall though. She¡¯d been hiding in a belfry to avoid the press gangs who were putting anyone who could hold a weapon on the wall. It had cracked, the sound like the snap of lightning before the thunder, something felt more than heard. Then it had collapsed inward, with a sound worse than thunder. When the dust cleared, there was a gaping hole, almost perfectly round, with one man standing in it, atop the rubble: Tythos Tyrannous Rex. In that moment, he was the most powerful man on pearth.


    Even from a distance and in hiding, she could feel the weight of his presence. The man was already a king. He was just here to take what was his. He led his army forward, lashing out with a dark sword and cutting men down. She could still remember the sound of his voice as he shouted commands. She¡¯d wanted to be standing next to him. To be important. She¡¯d almost come out of hiding and joined him. She would have if she believed he would have let her.


    During his reign, she trained herself, learning to kill. Tythos had ascended to sit beside the gods, and if she wanted to join him, she had to become an acolyte of death. She became relentless in her study and discipline. The Order noticed and recruited her. Formalizing her study of the deadly arts.


    The wind whipped the hood back off her head, despite sheltering behind Lance, and she cursed at the bitter cold.


    ¡°Baldracca! Tell me how it is that we are lost?¡±


    Lance either didn¡¯t realize she was cursing him, or let it slide.


    ¡°We are not lost. They ranged ahead, willing to ride blind at a gallop, while I value my life more highly, and therefore we are slow to catch up,¡± he said, the wind working with him to carry his voice, instead of against.


    ¡°I really think we should stop and make a fire,¡± Said Peony.


    ¡°In this?¡± Regina gestured at the building blizzard around them. ¡°Can you magic some shelter? No? Then fire is no good!¡±


    ¡°But I can¡¯t feel my toes!¡± Peony said. ¡°Or my fingers! We could shelter under some of these trees and have just a little fire?¡±


    ¡°We are not,¡± Lance said. ¡°If I was not playing nursemaid to you two, I would have found both our bumbling commander and the mad old man upon whom all of our futures now depend. It¡¯s cruelest twisted fate to have it once more in the hands of that madman. Once was enough for a lifetime.¡±


    They¡¯d followed Sigrun and the hunter, but the snow had blown away the tracks and they¡¯s lost the trail at the first bend.


    ¡°Oh?¡± Said Regina, ¡°So we are slowing you down? You would be faster to have gotten lost without us?¡±


    ¡°You want to take charge? Wrangle our fates with a more deft hand?¡± His tone was mocking.


    ¡°Yes. I know at least how to follow a road.¡±


    ¡°Good. Then you can walk.¡±


    Lance turned in the saddle and shoved her. He was fast. She was taken off guard and fell backwards off the horse. She landed in a heap, the snow softening the fall somewhat. Furious, she stood up and brushed the snow off, ready to shout Lance down, but he¡¯d ridden on.


    ¡°Cagacazzo!¡± She yelled after him.


    Peony had reigned in nearby and was looking at her sympathetically. This grated at her sensibility. She didn¡¯t need the sympathy of a green kid. She did need the horse. The snow was deep enough she would have trouble walking in it. Especially with baggy pants on. She grudgingly let herself be helped up behind the kid, who shivered when she put an arm around him for balance.


    She debated making a joke about being the first woman he¡¯d mounted with, but she knew he¡¯d probably take it wrong. Becoming withdrawn and taking the jab as serious interest. She¡¯d been traveling with this group for the last two moons and had been watching all of them.


    ¡°Well?¡± She asked. ¡°Are we going after him, or not?¡±


    Peony still had not urged his horse forward.


    ¡°I really think we need to find some sort of shelter,¡± Peony said. ¡°I¡¯m not even sure we¡¯re still following the road.¡±


    Regina looked around. She realized he was right. The snow was falling so heavily she could no longer see the tree line or the bluff. The road they¡¯d been following wasn¡¯t hugging the big landmarks anymore. They could be in the middle of a field.


    She couldn¡¯t even see Lance. He couldn¡¯t be that far ahead. Except Peony had turned his horse to help her up. She looked down at the ground to try and find Lance¡¯s horse tracks. A gust of wind blew bitting snow in her face.


    ¡°Cazzo!¡± She growled. ¡°Let¡¯s backtrack. When we find the road again, we look more carefully for the others. Let lance rot. I bet our fearless leader went off the road.¡±


    Peony and Regina rode back the way they¡¯d come, trying to follow the tracks before they completely filled in with blowing snow.


    ***


    "That''s him," said the nightmare, practically on top of the crossbowman. "The one I want. Remember? With the special skull shape. Kill him so I can eat him. I need his bones. Wait can I devour him? Ooh, that would be delicious. That would flavor the skull for my collection. Please, say I can devour him."


    The heavily falling snow had turned the landscape into a scene from another lifetime. Tythos kept having to shake off unwanted memories, about people to whom he was now dead to, or who were now themselves dead. His feet stung with cold, the blood he had rubbed back into them once again retreating to warm itself in his core. It was time for him to try and find some boots. He was not a boy anymore.


    The phrasing caught his attention. He turned and looked at the nightmare.


    "Why are you so intent on getting my permission?" Tythos asked.


    The nightmare tried to look innocent, putting its clawed hands behind its smoky form and kicking at the snow, though its form had little impact. Tythos noticed it did have some. As long as it had the hand, it seemed to have some measure of ability to interact with the world.


    "Um," said the nightmare. "No reason. Nothing really. I just wanted to talk it over. Like intellectual equals. You know, like friends. The way normal people talk."


    "Uh-huh," said Tythos. "The way normal people talk about devouring people?"


    The nightmare nodded enthusiastically, the jab apparently lost on it.


    Tythos took a step back from the crossbowman and studied the creature. "No," he said. "You cannot devour him."


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The creature looked genuinely affronted at this. "You brute," it said. "You never let me do what I want to do. Well, kill him quickly so that I can have his bones," it said.


    Tythos grinned. "You can''t do anything I have expressly denied, can you?"


    The creature''s lambent eyes widened at this. "What? Whatever gave you that idea?" it said. "I don''t think so."


    "Tell me the truth about it."


    "I don''t want to."


    "I order you to tell me the truth about it," Tythos said. He felt something pull hard inside of his chest, a tug that felt similar to tearing a muscle. He winced with the pain and the unexpected presence of it.


    "Oh, fine. I''m now bound to you more like contractual authority. You''re too clever for your own good," the nightmare said.


    "So when you left my presence and devoured someone in the valley¡­¡±


    ¡°You hadn''t told me expressly not to devour kings'' soldiers. In fact, I remember the last time we were prowling about, you had told me that you wished I would, if only I could. So I took liberty."


    Tythos reached up and massaged the point in his chest where his will had been strained with the command. He would have to be careful until he could get back in shape. The crossbowman on the ground was staring at Tythos and also the nightmare, looking back and forth between them, trembling. Tythos didn''t know if it was from the cold or shock or both, but he probably had a limited amount of time to work.


    Tythos growled, wishing that things made more sense and that people had had the good sense to leave him alone instead of poking their heads in the snow-bear''s cave. He walked over to the man who still knelt where he had been spit out. Kneeling down so that he had a better chance of reaching the man''s few remaining wits, Tythos asked, "What are your orders? Why are you here killing farmers?"


    The man''s eyes once more slid off Tythos and rolled to the nightmare. The nightmare leered at him.


    "Oh, come on, just let me eat him," it said.


    "What is that thing?" the man stammered.


    Tythos sighed. This was unusual. He''d never met a man that could see the nightmare before, but at least this man''s mind was not lost to horror. He snapped his fingers in front of the man''s face again, pulling his attention back.


    "Look at me. That, is what I''ll give you to if you don''t pay attention and answer my questions," Tythos said.


    The man swallowed hard, but gave Tythos more rapt attention. "Order came down to move out of Pallbrook," the man stammered. His lips blue and teeth chattering.


    "Come on," Tythos said, hauling the man to his feet. "Start stamping your damn feet, otherwise you''re going to freeze."


    The man did as he was ordered.


    "Where were you garrisoned before that?"


    "Uh, it¡¯s always been Pallbrook. I ain¡¯t a regular. I serve with them call-ups and seasonal types, just my round to get called up."


    "All right. What are your orders?" Tythos said.


    "Orders were to dispose of every living person in the valley that could string together a sentence," the man replied.


    "Last man I questioned said it was to put down everyone who knew my name," Tythos said.


    The crossbowman nodded. "What''s the difference between anyone who can string a sentence together and who knows your name, huh?"


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Weren¡¯t given no specifics.¡±


    ¡°Why would the army muster local militia, and hide seventy career soldiers over the hill? Why is the king¡¯s army here?¡±


    ¡°The king¡¯s army is here? First I heard. We got orders to put down a rebellion, which is always just something political where we have to get our hands dirty.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a soldier, all soldiers gossip. What rumors have you heard? ¡±


    The man eyed the nightmare, who was stalking about, swallowing the bodies with a messy sounding squelch, Tythos cursed and looked back at it, ¡°Save me a pair of boots, that fits!¡±


    ¡°How am I supposed to do that? I can¡¯t see clothes.¡±


    ¡°Then stop, damnit! I want to keep my toes!¡±


    ¡°Fine. This one is still alive. Can I devour him?¡±


    Tythos looked over. The person it indicated looked to be the second scout. ¡°Leave him, we¡¯ll talk to him when he wakes.¡±


    ¡°Leave him? You never let me have any fun. Why are you so selfish?¡±


    Tythos was curious if the crossbowman''s ability to see the creature was a product of their new condition or if the man could have seen it in the past. When he had conquered the kingdoms, he had never met a man who could see the creature, or at least, who was willing to admit they could.


    Tythos got back in the crossbowman''s face, pulling his attention. "Hey, what do you see?" Tythos asked.


    "Uh, I don''t know," the crossbowman said.


    What had the name been? Tythos tried to recall. Camper? Cameron? Connor? It was unimportant. Tythos couldn''t remember. Being able to use a soldier''s name was a powerful tool, as they had a response to their name drilled into them by years of training. But Tythos had other tools at his disposal. With a force of will, he caused the outline of the insubstantial black hand to become solid enough that he could grab the man''s chin and pull his gaze back to his own.


    "Just describe it," Tythos said. "I know what it is. I want to know what you know."


    The man swallowed hard and nodded, pulling away from Tythos'' phantom grip. Tythos looked at the man''s chin where he''d grabbed him. He realized bruises were forming. Recalling the sensation, he wasn''t sure he''d grabbed the man''s skin. It felt more like bone. That was very curious.


    The man stammered, "It''s some sort of smoke or shadow with teeth and claws. I can¡¯t always see it. It¡¯s like a bad feeling, like what you get when you know there''s something hunting you. When someone has stepped on your grave. That thing, is that feeling." He swallowed hard. "It''s eating people."


    He looked down at his feet; one of his shoes was smoking. ¡°I was halfway down its gullet.¡±


    Tythos eyed the shoe. There was a tiny glob of viscous clear liquid that was slowly eating a hole through the man''s shoe.


    Tythos nodded. "All right, enough of that. I¡¯ll feed you to it if you can''t tell me what I want to know," Tythos said.


    ¡°What if I don¡¯t know what you want to know?¡±


    ¡°Not my problem.¡±


    ¡°Fate¡¯s a hard nosed bitch. Fine then. Rumor was there¡¯s some new god handing-down to the upper mucks, secrets and magics or whatever. Another says that magic is coming back something without the gods. There¡¯s even a whisper, that the wilds is gonna be safe¡ª like that¡¯s even possible. Course, there¡¯s also a rumor that you conquered the north and are marching, but that rumor shows up every two years, you always marching. You is the Black hand, ain¡¯t you?¡±


    Tythos eyed the black outline of his hand, watching as a fat snowflake fell through it. ¡°I was.¡±


    ¡°You really killed gods?¡±


    ¡°When was the last solstice sacrifice?¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t say.¡±


    ¡°You ever seen a dragon?¡±


    The man laughed like Tythos had cracked a joke, but then caught the look in Tythos¡¯ eye. ¡°No¡­ they is, make-believe, ain¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°Any other rumors?¡±


    ¡°I heard Margery¡¯s is gonna have a half off special next mew moon. I¡¯m hoping she does, been near a year since I last rode anything that ain¡¯t had four legs.¡±


    ¡°Enough!¡± Tythos did not want to know if the man meant sitting a saddle, or something else.


    ¡°Do I get to live?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t decided. Help me find some boots, then carry your friend. If you fall behind, I¡¯ll let my creature have you.¡±


    ***


    First commander Titus Atticus stared at the map laid out in front of him. It showed a serpentine valley laid out in detail, farms marked along its winding length. One farm in particular was marked with red, neat writing beside it that read: Tythos Tyrannous Rex.


    The snow was complicating things. There were two ways out of the valley: north and south. If Tythos had gone with unit commander Sigrun Wellbourn, he should have been headed north. If something had gone wrong, he would be headed south. Commander Atticus needed to know which way he had gone.


    Reports had come in that balefire had been sighted. The blizzard outside the command tent, currently attempting to bury the world, confirmed the sighting. Either the storm was a coincidence, or someone had called a lot of balefire. The question was, why?


    The man Commander Atticus had watching the farm had met up with another scout. He¡¯d reported Tythos had left the farm without unit commander Wellbourn or her unit. They¡¯d split up, one man to track Wellbourn and one to track Tythos. The man following Tythos had then proceeded to fall off the pearth. The scout that made it back reported the man had been with him one moment and gone the next, like he¡¯d fallen into a deep hole. However, searching had revealed there was no hole to fall into. The man¡¯s tracks led up to a point and ended.


    Commander Atticus had put the scout under guard so he could question him further. The story he told didn¡¯t add up, unless¡­


    The Commander stood from the table and began to pace the tent. They were too far south. He had received no reports of the creatures breaching containment in the north. The answer had to be something else. He shook his head and made himself stand still. He returned to the map on the table.


    Two local units had been dispatched from Pallbrook, with orders to ride through the valley and put down some malicious dissenters. Commander Atticus had reports of the local units arriving on time. This had been a pleasant surprise. Then the zealots had gone to work early. Instead of waiting for Sigrun¡¯s unit to ride out of the valley, they¡¯d begun putting the question to the commons.


    The situation could still be managed, but the storm had worsened and reports had stopped coming in. The Commander sat and pinched the bridge of his nose. If he was losing men to the storm, sending more scouts out was a mistake. If there was a hostile force of dissenters in the area, not sending out more scouts was a mistake. This last was unlikely, but if he was losing men to an unexpected pocket of darkness, sending men out without a thaumaturge was a mistake. Sending a thaumaturge out for any other reason would be a career ending mistake. Maybe even a status ending one.


    Titus Atticus shuddered. The very idea of it made his skin crawl. The shame of having his humanity stripped away to become a filthy common. To have to grow a beard and wear his disgrace on his face¡­


    Commander Atticus rubbed his cheeks vigorously with rough hands. He rubbed until they hurt. They felt smooth. He took a deep breath. He doubted he could even grow a beard. He was a first class Citizen and his father had been a first class Citizen. He knew what he had to do.


    Looking down at the map, he called in his second.


    ¡°Sir?¡± The short man said, stepping up to the table.


    ¡°Send out four units. They are to find and escort Sigrun¡¯s unit out of the valley. Once word returns they are out of the valley, we are going to scour this valley of life and find out what happened to the king¡¯s men from Pallbrook.¡±


    The short man eyed him, looking like he had something to say. It was his job to give advice, but he¡¯d never volunteer it unprompted. On days when he had more patience, Commander Atticus would try to wait him out. To stare him down until the man volunteered his thoughts. This notion seemed idiotic right now.


    ¡°Damnit Paulson! Stop staring and speak your mind or I¡¯ll knock you down to third.¡±


    Second class Paulson looked unperturbed. He began speaking, his voice low and even as usual,


    ¡°If we deploy so many men, there¡¯s a strong possibility word will get back to Seigneur Endelmyer.¡±


    Commander Atticus nodded, ¡°That man¡¯s a toad on a hill, ruling over maggots and flies.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, but he does have the ear of the King.¡±


    The Commander grunted. This was true. ¡°Possible outcomes?¡±


    ¡°He may demand to have you recalled.¡±


    ¡°Unacceptable. Very well, issue orders to have any local units the men encounter put down. We cannot have word getting back to Endelmyer. Make sure the men know to make it look like it was dissenters.¡±


    ¡°Sir.¡±


    Paulson was quiet for a minute, looking thoughtful. The Commander waited him out. He¡¯d learned to let the man think.


    ¡°What about Tythos Black Hand?¡± He said at last.


    ¡°What about him?¡±


    ¡°Might he cause¡­ complications? Perhaps we should keep the men here until he leaves the valley.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s he gonna do? He¡¯s a bearded old man, no status, no banner, no men, and crippled on top of that.¡±


    ¡°There were the reports of¡­ balefire.¡±


    ¡°The man¡¯s under escort with a palace trained thaumaturge and one of the high guard. Even if he¡¯s regained access to magic, he¡¯s in his fifth decade. I can¡¯t foresee any trouble he could cause that his escort can¡¯t handle.¡±


    Aside from having somehow already left without his escort. Perhaps the man had run.


    First commander Atticus shook his head. It was no matter. Once this storm cleared up, he would be found, then he would be taken to Thonos Gap.


    ¡°Send the units out. I want Tythos on his way with unit commander Wellbourn as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°Sir.¡±


    Second class Paulson stood to leave.


    ¡°Sec¡¯Paulson¡­¡±


    ¡°Sir?¡±


    ¡°Can you foresee him causing trouble that I don¡¯t?¡±


    The short man smiled, ¡°Not unless he¡¯s got an army hidden away somewhere that we don¡¯t know about.¡±


    ***

 Chapter 9, Fire Storm

    Chapter 9


    ¡°We¡¯re lost!¡± Peony said.


    ¡°You have a nail fixed in your head!¡± Regina snapped back. ¡°We are not, and you will stop stop saying we are, or it will become so.¡±


    ¡°What does what I say have to do with where we are?¡±


    ¡°What does the pretty song you say have to do with fire?¡±


    ¡°Everything! It¡¯s actually a multilayered thaumodynamic principle at work¡ª¡°


    ¡°Eet! Close your beak! Enough of school! Morana has seen fit to move winter to a new time and now comes for our souls. Focus on the road and finding.¡±


    ¡°You know, Morana has only ever appeared in myth, there¡¯s no confirmed inhabitation by that deity¡ª¡°


    ¡°Zitto! This is not the road.¡±


    Peony looked over the horses head, wondering what Regina thought it was, if it was not the road. It looked like the road to him, or as much like the road as anything did in this blizzard. He was following what might have been their back-trail, but who could tell tell in this? It all looked the same.


    The wind gusted and a fat snowflake slapped into Peony¡¯s open eye. He cried out, pawing at it with the back of his hand, trying not to lose hold of the reigns again. His fingers were numb. His feet were numb. Parts of his thighs had begun to grow numb. He smelled ice. It was a strange crisp smell, almost burnt, but clear, like something pure, but dangerous, like fire. Which reminded him, his nose was numb.


    The landscape had dwindled to what he could see through squinted eyes, and that was all snow. He¡¯d been trying to follow the road, but it all looked the same now. White, layered and dimpled like a blanket on the valley floor. Besides, the blowing snow made seeing anything beyond ten feet impossible. It was also getting darker.


    Peony didn¡¯t know if the growing gloom was a product of the great dark snow clouds that had suddenly crashed into being, or if it was actually that late. How long had it been since that man had drawn on the stump and conjured the tower of fire? He didn¡¯t know.


    He wanted to find that man again. Drawing magic like that was unknown to Peony. He ached to learn it. His mind replayed the column of green fire that had pierced the sky.


    Fire!


    Of course!


    Peony pulled the horse to the left as he saw a tree loom up out of the snow and gloom.


    ¡°Do you see something?¡± Regina asked.


    ¡°Yes!¡± Peony said, ¡°I found a way to keep us from freezing.¡±


    ***


    Bird stepped over the intestine rope that crossed the doorway, again. He¡¯d made a quick check of the building and now needed to go find his party in a blizzard. Sigrun had refused to stay behind and let him gather the party, even though she was only a hinderance at this point.


    The low-slung structure had a covered porch, and Bird stood on the edge before stepping out into the swirling snow. The snow was falling heavily enough that it was near whiteout conditions. Bird had heard a rumor that the old mad king had held the power to call down the fury of the north, but he had written that off as just a tale. It seemed the strangest things were true.


    The smell hit him, the cold air seeming reluctant to carry odors. It smelled of a forge, freshly minted iron, but it also smelled of offal, like a fresh kill in the woods. Bird tasted a sour tinge of bile in the back of his throat. It was a taste he associated with war. He hated having the association of what a man being strung up smelled like, closely tied to gutting and skinning a fresh kill out in the woods. Bird spat off the porch. Everything that had been sacred, the old madman had found a way to twist and taint it.


    Bird sighed. And the damn old fool was likable. He''d always sworn if he ever got the chance, he would avenge his fallen brother without a second''s hesitation because that''s what you did. When there was a monster terrorizing the world, you put it down to save the innocent. But not only had the man met him face to face, he hadn''t tried to cower, apologize, make excuses, or justify what he had done. And now the fool had ridden off to try and protect farmers¡ªfarmers, the lowest caste in all the seven kingdoms¡ªand this man valued their lives.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Why was the world not straight? Why was it twisted in ways that didn''t make sense? Bird supposed that was just the way of it. It was the way of the forest. It was the way of the trails. It was the way of the plains. It was the way of the darkness that had infected the world and twisted everything up. And it was the way of men. Men were never just one thing.


    Bird knew that from his youth. But yet... he had allowed himself and his hatred to grow in a naive belief that someone deserved his unmitigated hatred.


    Sigrun was sitting her horse, the great roan eager to get its blood flowing in this blowing cold. The property had a barn, and Bird had no desire to try and deal with a horse that had a broken ankle, or leg, or fell into a deep drift in this storm.


    "Leave it!" Bird yelled over the wind.


    Sigrun looked perplexed. "What, are you going on foot?¡±


    ¡°You''re the fool that wanted to come with me."


    Bird helped Sigrun stable the horse. It looked like she had never been trained how. He knew that, but it still shocked him every single time. He had ridden with this party long enough that he should remember, but she seemed competent in too many areas. The simplest things surprised him continually when she not only had no grasp of it but seemed incapable of developing a quick handle on it. The idea of caring for a mount slipping through her awareness. She had spent far too many years training in the barracks at the palace.


    The task done, Bird''s horse and Sigrun''s were well-stabled. Bird stepped back into the storm and cast his senses out, allowing himself to slip into the Raven¡¯s sight. There was little to see in the blowing swirls of snow and wind. The bird didn''t see in the same way that humans did. It turned out he didn''t need to look for people; they had chosen to light a signal fire. It seemed like half the horizon was glowing orange. Well, at least he knew where to find Peony.


    Bird returned to himself and double-checking that Sigrun still wanted to come with him, Bird set off at a trot. The storm might blow the fire out, but with the size of the glowing orange that he saw, it also might not. Bird tried hard to both pick up the pace and not leave Sigrun behind.


    ***


    Peony stared at the conflagration in front of him. The blue spruce and other conifer trees had lit more quickly than he would have believed. He had tried to only light one of the smaller trees in order to warm himself, Regina, and their horse. One of the tall trees that was ablaze let out a high-pitched scream as a piece of the trunk broke apart and the sap inside boiled, letting out steam in a pressurized flaming jet.


    Branches all over the burning trees exploded. The sap inside of them reached boiling point, and the pressure caused them to go off like miniature cracks of thunder. The blaze had effectively warmed Peony. He was standing close enough that he was feeling quite comfortable now. It had melted the snow in a wide circle. There were a good fifteen trees burning now.


    Regina stepped up beside him. "I told you this was a bad idea!" she shouted over the roar of the fire.


    Peony could only shrug at this. It was obviously a bad idea, but at least they weren''t freezing to death anymore.


    "How are we going to put it out?" Regina shouted.


    He only looked over at her. He shrugged. He was open to suggestion if she had ideas.


    "Don''t you have some magic for undoing the fire?" she said.


    He only shook his head. He didn''t have any magic for undoing fire, only storing it. The only affinity that he had developed so far was for fire. It was a very helpful affinity. He''d found hundreds of uses for it, but putting out fire was not one of them.


    "I thought that you could take a fire and store it," Regina said.


    Peony nodded, bobbing his head from side to side. It was true, he could, and he currently had a campfire stored. He looked at her. "I''ve never tried to store so much," he said. "I don''t think it would work."


    Regina threw her arms wide. "Why? Just try it."


    "But I already have a campfire stored," Peony said.


    Regina glowered at him. She had a very nice glower. Peony had found that he had really come to enjoy earning her glowers. He had earned quite a number in the weeks they had traveled together. He smiled in return and shrugged. "What do I do with the campfire?"


    Regina looked up at the sky, "Mettere paglia al fuoco, save me,¡± she muttered. ¡°You add it to the big fire in front of you. Then you try to store it all.¡±


    "Huh." He had never thought of that. Add it to the big fire and then try and take it all. It was worth a shot, he supposed.


    So, Peony formed his hands together, making a circle, chanting. He brought the words together, and he formed in his mind the precise glyph, the image that matched the words. And then he sang, the single clear note, pitch-perfect. Once it was correct, he released his hands and pressed them forward. From between them burst a ball of fire, swirling and scintillating. It scythed through the air in a trajectory and hit one of the blazing trees.


    Peony pumped his fist in the air. "Woo-hoo!¡± That had been what he was aiming for. He glanced at Regina. Yep, this had earned him another glare. He smiled in return.


    Then, concentrating, he changed the glyph in his mind until it was its mirror image. Once he had that complete, he began the chant, careful to start at the end and head towards the beginning. Once he had reached the beginning of the chant, he uttered a clear, pure note. But as he did, he let his mind wander to the idea of filling up a flask.


    But this wouldn''t do this time. He couldn''t fill a flask, not with this much fire. And so he allowed himself to picture filling up a cistern. That seemed like it might be enough. He''d seen some impressive cistern work once he had inquired of the palace architects.


    Once he had that picture clear in his mind, he allowed the beautiful red light to begin to pour into the giant cistern. It poured and poured and poured. And something inside of Peony began to ache. He realized he ought to stop now. But he was stuck. Committed to the task of drawing, he hadn''t realized that he had to take all of what he set out to take. He figured if it became too much, he could just put a stop to it. This had just proved not to be the case.


    ***

 Chapter 10, Party Conflict

    Lancaster Devereux had more questions than he had answers. It was clear to him he was not on Sigrun¡¯s trail anymore. He couldn¡¯t fathom what she was thinking. He¡¯d gotten a sealed envelope under his door in the middle of the night too. Orders to secretly move the most notorious man on pearth across the kingdom. Inexplicably, they were to use the four people in their party to do it. No soldiers. No army. No armored wagon to move the man in chains, under guard.


    Lancaster had instructions to feign ignorance of their charge. He was unclear as to who else had the same instructions, or was genuinely ignorant until earlier that day. His orders told him to be ready to assume command if Sigrun was unfit for duty, or killed. When he¡¯d read that, he assumed he would be joining an elite unit.


    Now, he assumed he¡¯d made the wrong person¡¯s shit list and had been assigned to this party as a means of disposing of him. Everyone in the group was politically inconvenient to someone. The question was, who¡¯s toes had he stepped on? The better question was, how could he survive this fool¡¯s errand of an assignment?


    He supposed the best way would be to cast blame for the trouble on Sigrun, and assume command. Once the others followed him, Sigrun would too, and perhaps he could keep them alive.


    The wind carried the smell of smoke to him and Lancaster looked around. The clouds high overhead were lit orange by the glow of a large fire.


    ¡°Well,¡± Lancaster muttered, ¡°thank you Peony, that¡¯s one way to find everyone. Burn the whole forest down and see who shows up. Why didn¡¯t I think of that?¡±


    He reigned his horse around, and headed in the direction of the glowing clouds.


    ***


    The log house contained a single room, divided into functional quarters. Sigrun¡¯s unit was spread out inside it. She and Bird had found them without problems. Follow the glowing horizon. When she and Bird arrived, they¡¯d found Peony passed out, Regina tending to him, half an acre of smoldering forest and Lance, looking put out. They¡¯d made their way back to the farmhouse, stabled the horses and lit a fire once they were inside. Sigrun and Lance had argued all the way to the little house. The mess on the porch had halted all conversation.


    Sigrun was staring into the flames, trying to decide what to do next. She¡¯d never wanted to command, having to make decisions for other people. Making decisions for herself felt like enough. She¡¯d grown up in and around the palace, her father being a king¡¯s guard. She¡¯d been training to fight since she was little. All she¡¯d wanted was to be like her father. To be good at protecting people.


    Tythos Tyrannous Rex had stormed the city, his magic giving the force they commanded the advantage. The bells had rung and calls to arms had gone up. Sigrun had been only sixteen.


    ¡°Care to tell me again, how you lost our charge?¡± Lance¡¯s careful diction spoke of a higher station than he claimed to hold. It put Sigrun¡¯s back up.


    She turned to face him. She was a head taller than he was. It was a struggle not to ¡®sir¡¯ him and answer quickly. She was in charge.


    ¡°Fr¡¯Lancaster,¡± she barked. Anyone trained in the rank and file¡ª as he claimed¡ª would have snapped to attention. The man had the audacity to look annoyed.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Lance said, ¡°You¡¯re Third. I know, you were put in charge. Well guess what: being in charge of failure is worse than useless. While I am grateful you have saved us the ignominious fate of freezing to death,¡± he gestured around the room. ¡°My chief concern is completing the mission. As yours should be. Now let¡¯s go over again what happened, and decide what we¡¯re going to do to get our charge back.¡±


    Sigrun was trying to place what his real rank and mission was. She eyed him in silence for a minute. Bird spoke up while she was thinking, saving her the trouble.


    ¡°Lance, I didn¡¯t see your sorry ass there, now we been over this once. Maybe you got snow in your ears.¡±


    ¡°I was riding double! Someone made the decision not only to give him a horse, but to let him lead. Our orders were to bring him across country. I suggested bound and walking behind our horses, which would have seen us out of this valley and on schedule.¡±


    Several people began to argue at once.


    ¡°Enough!¡± Sigrun said it loud enough they all fell silent. ¡°Orders were, to bring him. Bird, run us through what you saw. You read sign and know best what happened.¡±


    ¡°Alright¡­¡± Bird eyed Lance like he¡¯d rather spit, but launched into it: Hearing screams, riding toward them; Soldiers executing the farmers, Tythos killing soldiers; Questioning the man on the porch, and finally Tythos running off. ¡°Last thing we did was come find you three so you didn¡¯t freeze.¡±


    Lance scoffed, ¡°You expect me to believe that a crippled classless killed how many kingsmen? He may have a magic sword, but against seven trained men? I only saw one body out there, when we rode in.¡±


    The word ¡°classless¡± tickled at something in Sigrun¡¯s memory. It was a clue.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to trust your senses over what I say? After our time together?¡± Bird said, sounding annoyed. ¡°This man is no classless, he¡¯s Tythos the tyrant. Barbarian king of the north who burned down half the world. He¡¯s dangerous.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s an old man. A disgraced savage, who we¡¯ve been tasked with delivering in order to secure a deal,¡± said Lance.


    ¡°Dio Santo! You see the mess he is leaving us on the porch?¡± Said Regina. ¡°I suppose you think that man was just laying that way.¡±


    ¡°The work of a savage,¡± Lancaster said. ¡°He likely caught the man unawares.¡±


    ¡°You callin me a liar?¡± Bird said.


    Lancaster stepped toward him, laying a hand on the knife at his hip, ¡°What if I am?¡±


    Bird¡¯s eyes flashed and he took a step toward Lancaster. Sigrun stepped between them. She was tall enough that the men couldn¡¯t see each other past her. She was reaching the end of her patience.


    ¡°Fr¡¯Lancaster!¡± She boomed. ¡°One more contentious remark and you¡¯ll feel my boot!¡±


    ¡°When you¡¯re done hiding behind the skirt, I¡¯ll be waiting,¡± Lance shot at Bird.


    Sigrun swung a backhand at Lance¡¯s head. She tried to pull the punch, so as not to crack his skull. She had a brigandine gauntlet on that would add a steel plate to a backhand. Lance was faster than she expected and leaned back out of the way. A sneer was just forming on his face as she caught hold of his cloak with the hand that had missed and yanked him off his feet. She pulled hard enough that he went horizontal in the air. She twisted with the pull and slammed him down onto the table. The table broke with a loud crash, leaving Lance atop the wreckage. His mouth was opening and closing like a marionette.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Sigrun turned her gaze on Bird, who held up his hands and backed away. Peony was sitting by the fire and was looking over with sleepy interest. He had only recently regained consciousness. Regina was sitting on a chair by the fire, tending to the needs of her bow after getting caught in the snow. She had a smirk on her face.


    Lance gasped in a breath and Sigrun looked down at him to see if he was going to try again. This was finally something she understood. She wished the man would get up and try again. After being kicked off the porch earlier, she really wanted to take the fight to someone. Lance didn¡¯t try it, and Sigrun felt let down somehow.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have to like each other, but we do have to work together,¡± Sigrun said. ¡°Now, we are going to discuss plans on how to track and capture Tythos. We are going to accomplish these plans and then¡ª¡°


    The front door to the house burst open and snow blew inside. A solider came stumbling in and fell, like he¡¯d been shoved and a silhouette filled the doorway. It was Tythos.


    ¡°Good, you¡¯re here,¡± Tythos said, and trudged inside, dragging something behind him.


    He dropped his burden and pushed the door shut. The thing he¡¯d been dragging was another soldier, unconscious or dead. The simple linen shirt and pants Tythos wore were stained with blood and torn where he¡¯d been cut several times. He had on a pair of soldier¡¯s boots and belt, with a bloodstained jawbone stuck in the sword-loop. Tythos looked around the room, then said,


    ¡°We¡¯ve got a problem.¡±


    ***


    Tythos looked around the small room, taking in the group he was tied to. Sigrun was standing over the blond man in the middle of a broken table. Bird was standing on the other side of Sigrun. The kid that liked to play with fire was sitting with the short woman by a fireplace. They were all looking at him. Looked like his arrival interrupted a fight. Sigrun took a step toward him. None of the others made a move to back her up. These people didn¡¯t trust each other.


    Tythos strode across the room and took one of the wooden chairs positioned near the fire. The kid got up and stepped back. The short woman sat back in her chair, giving him an assessing look. Sigrun looked like she was trying to decide what to ask first. Tythos stripped his boots off and began working the blood flow back into his feet. In his youth, he¡¯d been able to spend half a day or more barefoot in the snow, but he was a long way from the cold weather conditioning of the past.


    ¡°Found these boys coming from another farm,¡± Tythos gestured at the two soldiers he¡¯d brought. The one he¡¯d dragged in hadn¡¯t moved, the other sat on the floor looking around like a cornered rabbit. Sigrun¡¯s party was not wearing uniforms or insignia. Tythos marked them as soldiers, if questionably trained, but the soldiers he¡¯d brought likely thought they¡¯d been captured by outlaws.


    ¡°They¡¯re not locals,¡± Tythos continued, ¡°They¡¯re out of Pallbrook like the ones we found on this farm.¡±


    Bird was the first one in the room to recover and speak, ¡°These are the scouts from the unit that was¡­ here?¡± He gestured at the front door, indicating what lay beyond it.


    ¡°No,¡± Tythos shook his head, ¡°I only caught one of those boys. These two were with a separate unit.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± said Bird, ¡°You were able to pull them away from their unit in the storm? Where are the others headed?¡±


    ¡°The afterlife.¡±


    The man who¡¯d been used to break the table had managed to regain his feet. He made a derisive sound.


    ¡°Why are you here?¡± He said.


    Tythos marked him as a noble. He had the sort of snobbish tone that could make a greeting like, ¡°good morning,¡± sound like ¡®go fuck yourself¡¯. His presence in this group was curious. Sigrun evidently didn¡¯t know his station, and he hadn¡¯t assumed command.


    ¡°You expect us to believe,¡± the man continued, ¡°that you singlehandedly captured or killed two full units of soldiers?¡±


    Tythos fixed the man with a look, but didn¡¯t respond.


    ¡°What¡¯s more, you brought the supposed prisoners back here, to us, your captors; like we¡¯re all some merry band of thieves?¡± He gestured at the soldiers Tythos had brought, ¡°Look at how this man is cowering, he¡¯s no soldier. He¡¯s a classless you dressed up in a uniform.¡±


    ¡°Lance,¡± Bridge said, ¡°You need to shut your yap. I don¡¯t know how your ego bounced off that table intact, but you¡¯re about to step in a bear trap.¡±


    ¡°Mmm,¡± said the nightmare, ¡°Bear trap. I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve ever been called a bear trap before.¡±


    Tythos ignored the nightmare and the man trying to provoke him. He switched feet, and began trying to rub feeling back into the other one.


    ¡°Two units out of Pallbrook with orders to exterminate all the people in this valley would be bad enough,¡± Tythos said, ¡°But there¡¯s a bigger problem.¡±


    ¡°People,¡± Lance sneered, ¡°they¡¯re hardly that. If the king¡¯s men have orders to put them down, they must deserve it. I¡¯m sure they¡¯re nothing but filthy dissenters.¡±


    The man was starting to get under Tythos¡¯s skin. He looked at Sigrun, who¡¯d been quietly taking this all in.


    ¡°Put your dog on a leash, or I will,¡± he said.


    Lance put a hand on his sword and stepped forward, ¡°You don¡¯t scare me old man¡ª¡°


    Sigrun put an arm out in front of Lance, he tried to push past it, but the arm didn¡¯t budge. She guided him back a step and looked down at him, ¡°Lance,¡± she said, her impatience still on the surface. He looked into her face and took a step back.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Lance said, ¡°Commander. Don¡¯t forget our orders.¡± He stalked over to the far corner of the room and leaned against the wall with his arms folded.


    Sigrun turned her look on Tythos. She was a tense as a spooked horse. Her posture was rigid and she was clenching and unclenching one of her hands.


    ¡°She¡¯s about to explooode,¡± sang the nightmare.


    She did look like she¡¯d rather fight than talk. She met Tythos¡¯s eye, clear challenge in her gaze.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the hand?¡± She asked.


    Tythos nodded, ¡°It¡¯s around.¡±


    Sigrun gave him a searching look, then nodded. ¡°And the bigger problem?¡±


    ¡°The bigger problem,¡± said Tythos. ¡°Is the seventy soldiers camped nearby with special wards against detection by me. That¡¯s me specifically. I¡¯m pretty sure they don¡¯t live out there all the time, so it¡¯s not a coincidence they¡¯re out there the day you come to pick me up.¡±


    ¡°King¡¯s men?¡± Sigrun asked.


    ¡°Yep, they¡¯re wearing the same colors as you, well, when you¡¯re wearing colors. We didn¡¯t get a chance to discuss it earlier, but I get the impression you¡¯re not suppose to let anyone know that the king is transporting me across the country.¡±


    Sigrun looked at Bird. He raised his hands and shook his head.


    ¡°Don¡¯t look at me,¡± he said. ¡°I didn¡¯t even know who we were coming to pick up until you shouted his name on that pig farm.¡±


    Tythos snorted and shot a sympathetic look at Bird. Sigrun turned to Lance, who gave her a sour look.


    ¡°Come on,¡± Sigrun said. ¡°Who¡¯s got an idea?¡± She looked around the room. ¡°Why would there be soldiers camped nearby, but warded against detection?¡±


    ¡°Where do you have orders to take me?¡± Tythos asked.


    Sigrun looked at him for a moment, a weighing look, then seemed to reach a conclusion. She nodded and said, ¡°As I told you, my orders are to deliver you to Thonos Gap. What I did not say; I was to use the hand as leverage to get you to agree to a bargain that will be struck by the commander there.¡±


    Tythos stared at her for a long minute while this sank in. He took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. He thought so.


    ¡°They want me to go back,¡± he said. ¡°There must be trouble on the other side and they want me to fix it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what my commander wants, nor would I presume to know what the king wants,¡± Sigrun said. ¡°My orders are to deliver you.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Tythos finished with his other foot and stood and stripped his shirt off. It was ripped and soaked. ¡°That doesn¡¯t actually answer what the soldiers are doing here. My best guess is they¡¯re there to make sure you succeed in delivering me, but that doesn¡¯t explain why they sent the Pallbrook troops to wipe the valley.¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s even the truth,¡± Lance said.


    Tythos looked at him. ¡°One thing I¡¯m not, and that¡¯s a liar. I¡¯ll kill you as soon as look at you¡ª sooner in your case¡ª but I won¡¯t lie to you. Watch your tongue or I¡¯ll let my creature eat you.¡±


    ¡°You will?¡± Said the nightmare.


    ¡°Your what?¡± Said Lance. ¡°I think the sun¡¯s baked away your wits old man.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Tythos. ¡°If he takes a step towards me, go ahead and swallow him.¡± Tythos moved away from the fireplace to see if the late Mr Gladwell had some clothes that would fit him.


    ¡°I¡¯ve had enough of this,¡± said Lance. He jabbed a finger at Sigrun, ¡°I got the same orders as you. We¡¯re to deliver this,¡± he gestured at Tythos, who¡¯d found the clothes and just dropped his pants, ¡°to Thonos Gap, at any cost. It¡¯s time we bound him, hand and foot, threw him over a pack animal and got moving.¡±


    Lance took a step forward and fell out of sight. Everyone in the room cried out, or started talking, all at once. Asking what was going on, what happened, where did he go? Tythos pulled a fresh shirt over his head and smirked.


    ¡°Nice,¡± he said.


    ***


    edit: syntax

 Chapter 11, Old Magic and New

    Chapter 11


    ¡°Everyone quiet!¡± Sigrun thundered.


    The room fell silent. She marched over to where Tythos stood.


    ¡°What did you do to him?¡± She asked.


    ¡°I warned him,¡± Tythos said.


    ¡°Where did he go?¡±


    ¡°My pet creature ate him. I just got finished saying I told the truth, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Bring him back!¡±


    ¡°What if I can¡¯t?¡±


    Sigrun narrowed her eyes at him, ¡°Then I¡¯m going to make your life very difficult.¡±


    ¡°I told you to put him on a leash.¡±


    ¡°I thought you were going to hit him or something.¡±


    ¡°That was tempting, but if I did that, I would probably kill him. I¡¯m not so good at restraint.¡±


    Sigrun loomed over Tythos and glowered at him.


    ¡°Is he gone?¡±


    ¡°Not completely.¡±


    ¡°Then bring him back.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s talk about what we¡¯re going to do about the soldiers first.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going to do nothing about the soldiers. I¡¯ve got orders.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate your stalwart sense of duty, but you¡¯ve got a problem.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°I agreed to help you for my hand, but I¡¯ve already got it, so I¡¯m more free to interpret what that means than I might otherwise be. All these king¡¯s men are likely to decide to finish the job and kill everyone in this valley because I lived here once. I can¡¯t let that happen. While I¡¯d like to help you, I¡¯ve got to prioritize the lives of these men, women and children over our little errand. So before I¡¯ll be coming with you, I¡¯m going to need to stop them from killing everyone.¡±


    ¡°What about my man, Lancaster?¡±


    Tythos snorted, ¡°Lancaster?¡±


    ¡°Yes! Where does he come into this?¡±


    ¡°Ah, ok, so if you help me save these people and get on our way faster, I¡¯ll give you back Lancaster.¡±


    ¡°Not good enough,¡± Sigrun said.


    ¡°Not good enough? Not good enough? You should be helping me preserve life on the principal that it should be your fucking job anyway!¡± Tythos glared up into her face.


    ¡°Agree to take the deal the commander offers you when we get where we¡¯re going and I¡¯ll help you,¡± Sigrun said.


    Tythos eyed her. ¡°Your status is on the line isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Yes, it is. That¡¯s beside the point. My orders were to use the hand to secure your cooperation. I messed that up. I still intend to fulfill my orders by any means necessary.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Tythos suppressed a smirk, she looked serious. ¡°Ok, I¡¯ll tell you what the commander is going to want. He¡¯s going to want me to go back. To enter the dream world and go speak with the things that live there. Probably kill someone while I¡¯m at it. It¡¯s a suicide mission.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Sigrun said, ¡°If you release my man, and agree to take the deal the commander offers, then I¡¯ll go with you and help you. In the meantime, we¡¯ll help you save the lives of the people in this valley.¡±


    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have to be making deals to get help to save people. You¡¯d seriously come with me to the dream world?¡±


    ¡°You have my word.¡±


    Tythos looked into her eyes, then after a long moment nodded. ¡°Very well, as long as the commander¡¯s deal is not comply untenable, I accept.¡±


    Tythos turned to the nightmare, who was squatting in the corner of the room with a big smile on its face.


    ¡°Alright,¡± he said, ¡°spit him out.¡±


    The smile turned into a frown, ¡°But you said I could eat him.¡±


    ¡°Who are you talking to?¡± Sigrun asked.


    Tythos ignored her.


    ¡°I got talked out of it this time, but we¡¯ll leave it on the table for the future. Now spit him out.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t I just keep him overnight? He¡¯s terrified. It¡¯s delicious.¡±


    ¡°No. You can¡¯t keep him overnight, we¡¯re not sleeping. We got work to do and every man will count. Now spit him out.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    ***


    Sigrun stared at the man in front of her as he began to argue with an empty corner of the room. She tried asking who he was talking to, but he ignored her. The attitude the man had, made figuring out what he was being serious about difficult. Sigrun wasn¡¯t sure what to do with him.


    The stories she¡¯s heard about him during the war had been horrific. The man butchered whole villages, he ate the dead, he had a demon that did his bidding, he could use magic, and these were the more plausible things she had heard. Sigrun liked to think through problems. Really sit and chew on something before deciding what she believed about a thing. So when she was young, she¡¯d thought about the problem that was advancing across the country, a hoard of barbarians at his back. She¡¯d thought about Tythos Tyrannous Rex.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    It had been her conclusion that almost every rumor could be chalked up to the man¡¯s ability to use magic. At the time of his invasion, this had been the most unbelievable thing about him. Magic from the people of the north was rumor, ledgend, myth, or taken another way, foolish superstition. Only the gods gave magic, and the north men had no gods.


    The rumors surrounding his ability to use magic were too persistent. They came from too many people that she had trouble dismissing. When Tythos¡¯s armies had arrived at the capital, she¡¯d seen for herself.


    Tythos seemed to win the argument he was having. Sigrun caught a glimpse of a dark figure standing in the corner of the room, before it opened up, splitting wide, and Lance appeared. Rather, he fell out of the hole the dark figure had just split to reveal. He tumbled onto the floor in a heap, screaming. He flailed about himself, as if trying to ward off an unseen attacker, or a swarm of wasps. Sigrun looked back up for the dark figure, but it was gone. The corner of the room was once again empty.


    Sigrun began to head toward Lance, but Bird put a hand on her arm.


    ¡°Let me handle this,¡± he said.


    He walked over to where Lance was still in a state of panic and brought something out of the satchel he carried. He crushed it and held it over Lance¡¯s nose, who stiffened, then relaxed.


    ¡°Ok,¡± Bird said, ¡°Come over here and give me a hand.¡±


    Sigrun helped him move Lance over near the fire. Bird said he¡¯d sleep for a time, then wake up more naturally.


    Sigrun leaned close to Bird an spoke low, ¡°What¡¯s wrong with him?¡±


    ¡°The man¡¯s in a state of panic,¡± Bird said. ¡°Looking at him, I can¡¯t see that he¡¯s injured in any way, but I won¡¯t know for sure until he wakes up.¡±


    ¡°How long will he sleep?¡±


    ¡°Not long. Hour, maybe two.¡±


    ¡°You ever seen anything like that?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°I fucking hate magic,¡± Sigrun said, scowling.


    Bird raised his eyebrows at her. She returned the look.


    ¡°What?¡± She said.


    Bird shook his head, ¡°I know the feeling. Black swords, green towers of fire, and now men being swallowed up by nothing.¡±


    It was Sigrun¡¯s turn to shake her head, ¡°It wasn¡¯t nothing. I mean, I don¡¯t think it was. Right before Lance appeared, I thought I saw some¡­ something.¡±


    ¡°The man did say he had a pet creature,¡± Bird said. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s true, what they said in the war¡ª that he consorted with demons?¡±


    Sigrun looked over at Tythos, who was rummaging through the farm house¡¯s pantry. He was stuffing food into a sack and had stuffed some into his mouth.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said.


    Sigrun and Bird both watched the man ransack the house. He seemed very upset that the people who lived here had been killed, but had no compunction about going through their things. Sigrun¡¯s thoughts drifted to the beginning of this journey. Back to when she¡¯d been informed that she would be escorting Tythos across the kingdom. She¡¯d been assigned this group of people to do it with, instead of her unit. She¡¯d also found out that the king had people who could use magic. It was a well kept secret. She¡¯d been assigned one of them and sent on her way.


    Peony had called himself a thaumaturge. This meant nothing to Sigrun. He had proceeded to try and explain it, but none of the ideas he presented made any sense. He could light things on fire by singing a strange language while he touched them, and implied he could do other things, but Sigrun doubted he actually could. The only thing she¡¯d seen him do was light fires. He also acted like this was his first time out of the capital.


    ¡°Alright kid,¡± Tythos said as he strode across the room. He headed for Peony, who looked cornered. He looked around the room as if asking for help. ¡°Let¡¯s have a talk about what you can do with your new magic.¡±


    ***


    Tythos kicked a chair over and sat down in front of the kid. He tried to remember the kid¡¯s name, but all he recalled was that it¡¯d sounded like a girl¡¯s name to him. The kid looked like he was too young to be shaving, let alone traipsing around with a bunch of soldiers. He glanced at the short woman, who also looked young, to see if she was his minder, but she still looked wryly amused. Not the boy¡¯s minder then. Tythos decided to try and open with something that would engage the boy, instead of locking him up.


    ¡°Balefire, is what it¡¯s called,¡± Tythos said.


    ¡°Balefire?¡± The kid looked interested despite his fear, and leaned forward.


    ¡°Yeah, you asked what that green fire was. I used too much of it.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± the kid swallowed, ¡°I heard your invocation, and it didn¡¯t make any sense. I mean¡ª burn baby burn? There¡¯s no structure in the words. I¡¯ve been thinking about it. If I hadn¡¯t seen it work, I wouldn¡¯t believe it. Also, it didn¡¯t sound like you were on key.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with the words,¡± said the nightmare. ¡°It¡¯s better than abracadabra, or alakazam. I didn¡¯t choose silly nonsense for my magic words.¡±


    ¡°Structure?¡± Tythos asked. All Tythos knew about magic he¡¯d learned from the nightmare and a book he¡¯d found in the dream world. He no longer had the book.


    ¡°Sure,¡± the kid¡¯s eyes lit up, ¡°Structure is the most basic principal underlying the use of all magic. Magic is all around us, you see.¡± He waved a hand through the air to illustrate.


    Tythos glanced at spot the kid was waving his hand through. It looked like any other bit of air to him. The kid was warming to the subject and went on in an excited tone before Tythos could comment,


    ¡°But in order for the magic to manifest, you have to build a structure, one that matches the magic you¡¯re trying to use, so that the magic can go from where it is,¡± he waved his hand through the air again, ¡°to where you want the magic to be.¡± The kid brought his hands together.


    Tythos beetled his brow, none of that sounded like anything he knew of.


    ¡°From where it is?¡± Tythos asked.


    The nightmare began to laugh.


    The kid grinned, ¡°Yeah, where it is. Current popular thought is that magic is on another plane of existence, one that we can¡¯t touch or interact with, unless the right structure bridges the gap.¡±


    The nightmare was still hooting with laughter, Tythos turned to it.


    ¡°You¡¯re making it really damn hard to listen to hot-shot here,¡± the kid opened his mouth, a confused look on his face, but Tythos held up his hand to forestall him. ¡°Mind telling me what it is you find so damn funny?¡±


    The kid was giving Tythos a worried look. Tythos held up a finger. The laughter of the creature wound down enough that it was able to talk.


    ¡°What¡¯s funny is how wrong that explanation is,¡± the creature said, still chuckling.


    ¡°Care to explain?¡± Tythos said.


    ¡°I lack the words,¡± the nightmare frowned, ¡°How do you explain a quantum-processor when the radio hasn¡¯t been invented yet?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a radio?¡± Tythos asked.


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    ¡°You mind making a point or just fuck off?¡±


    ¡°Rude. I¡¯m enjoying hearing how wrong he is. It¡¯s amusing.¡±


    Tythos sighed. ¡°Alright, if he¡¯s that wrong, they how come what he does is working?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± the nightmare grinned, ¡°a man can still light a fire with flint and steel, even if he believes the sparks represent the flint¡¯s sexual climax, and the fire its offspring.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re disgusting.¡±


    ¡°You asked.¡±


    ¡°My question had nothing to do with the sexual activity of rocks!¡±


    Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and looked at Tythos. He growled in annoyance and lowered his voice.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got to remember my rule not to ask you questions. I always regret it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just rude,¡± the creature blew a raspberry and stalked toward the door. ¡°I need to eat.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re kidding. How many times have you already eaten today?¡±


    ¡°How many things have I done? Manifesting and interacting with things takes energy. Let me have the bodies in the yard.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Tythos said, ¡°But we¡¯re going to bury the bones of the farmers when shit calms down.¡±


    ¡°You know, if you deepened our bond, you¡¯d understand some of the things I do.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a sound argument against ever doing it.¡±


    ¡°Rude.¡± The Nightmare slipped through the gaps around the wooden door, sliding through like water until it was gone.


    Tythos looked back at the kid in front of him, who had a worried look on his face.


    ¡°How many sigils do you know?¡±


    The kid¡¯s brow creased in confusion, ¡°Sigils?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, like how I called balefire. Your magic structure idea kinda fits with what I know. I draw a very precise structure and then channel magic through it. If I¡¯ve drawn it correctly, it produces the effect I desire.¡±


    ¡°You channel magic?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Tythos said, ¡°Wait, you don¡¯t know how to channel magic?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± the kid said.


    ¡°You¡¯re telling me that if I drew a sigil for you here, right now, you wouldn¡¯t be able to activate it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I have no idea. I mean, we could try. I¡¯ve never heard of sigils or channeling magic.¡±


    ¡°Then where did the power come from when you showed me that trick with the stick and the fire?¡±


    ¡°Oh that? The power all comes from the other place, like I was telling you.¡±


    The Nightmare began laughing again.


    ¡°Goddamnit,¡± Tythos muttered.


    ***

 Chapter 12, Magic Words

    Chapter 12


    Bird went over to check on the soldiers Tythos had dragged in. Neither man had moved. Only one of them was awake. Bird checked the one lying in the floor was dead. The man was unconscious. The one who was awake was staring into the corner where Lance had disappeared, and then been regurgitated later. Bird reached over to touch the man¡¯s head to see if he was losing his heat. The man startled and looked at Bird like he¡¯d appeared out of nowhere. His gaze slid away, back to the corner of the room.


    Bird looked over, even though he knew the corner was empty. The corner was empty. At least, of anything he could see. Lance had gone somewhere, then come back, in a state of total panic. Bird wasn¡¯t sure how much he wanted to know where the man had gone. Since neither soldier was injured in a way that Bird could remedy, he got up and went over by the fire. Tythos and Peony were talking magic theory, which Bird ignored. As far as he was concerned he wanted no part of that kind of magic. The world was full of natural magic. The sort man was meant to use. The sort belonging to hunters.


    What Tythos and Peony did was the kind of magic the ruling class used. The kind that was illegal unless you were a ruling class. Bird was a man between worlds. Hunters preformed a necessary function. They were guides and guardians; gatekeepers of a wide and wild world. The world was much bigger than people believed. People who huddled together behind walls or inside protected towns. They never walked the ways and didn¡¯t see for themselves what it was like. Most people never left their town or city of origin. Then again, most people couldn¡¯t afford to.


    The hunters spent time in both the big cities, and the places small enough they weren¡¯t worth a notation on a map. They were welcomed by everyone. Which Bird enjoyed, but had become increasingly uncomfortable with. The two men sitting in the corner, casually talking about magic turned his stomach. If one of the farmers in this valley uttered a word of magic in front of a soldier, they¡¯d be labeled a dissenter. This was a death sentence for a farmer.


    Bird was technically a Citizen, because he was a hunter. Citizens were of higher status than soldiers, though there were soldier-citizens, such as Sigrun, who¡¯d received a status promotion for deeds done. Being labeled a dissenter would result in a loss of status. So Sigrun could become a soldier once more, or like Tythos, have it all removed. Which put him even with the locals of this valley. A common


    Losing all your status meant you couldn¡¯t own property. This meant nothing you had, belonged to you. The only thing you had left was yourself, and since status was either bought or earned, people became soldiers for the rights to own property. For the rights to become people. Bird had seen it. The higher status no longer saw the common as people.


    This was where the problem of magic came in. This group of people was a strange exception, having all seen or experienced magic first hand. According to the law, magic was a dangerous superstition. The belief of fools and dissenters. In cities, people with citizenship would live entire lives without seeing magic. Everyone but the nobles and the royals. They both knew magic was real, and trained in the use of it. An open secret that could get you executed for speaking of. Bird had served as guide for enough nobles that he knew the truth. And despised the hypocrites.


    So he tuned out the conversation happening nearby. He really didn¡¯t want to know how it worked. It made him sick. He¡¯d lived and worked beside the ¡°commons¡±enough to have come to love them. He¡¯d been better treated and better paid by the people who had nothing. Their currency was barter, favor and craft services. The clothes on his back and the knife in his belt were payment for services. Common made in remote villages. Things he¡¯d have to pay half a years wages for in a city.


    The attitude of Lance made sense to Bird. He couldn¡¯t see the problem with the deaths of the people of the valley, because he didn¡¯t think they were people. Sigrun made sense to Bird. She was a solider first, and unconcerned with anything but her orders. She¡¯d leave these people to die, not because it was right or wrong, but because she¡¯d been told to. The attitude of Peony made sense to him, he was just a wide eyed kid, fresh out of his isolation in his little school. He knew nothing but what he¡¯d been told and didn¡¯t even know how to think yet. It was the attitude of Tythos that didn¡¯t make sense to him.


    This was a man who¡¯d been king. He¡¯d rode with an army at his back and he¡¯d caused the death of untold tens of thousands. Bird had expected him to the be the most selfish and aloof man on pearth. He¡¯d hated him for more than a decade without ever seeing him. Now he¡¯d seen this man risk his own life twice for common people. When Tythos had taken his shirt off, Bird had seen several sword wounds. They¡¯d been all expertly sewn shut, including the long deep one across his back. Somehow sewn shut when the man was by himself, in a blizzard. Somehow once again, having only one hand.


    Bird looked back at the empty corner where Lance had disappeared and then been spit out. Spit out? He ripped his gaze from the corner and looked at Tythos, who appeared to be arguing with the empty corner.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Tythos said, ¡°But we¡¯re going to bury the bones of the farmers when shit calms down.¡±


    He paused as if listening. Bird strained his ears, but he didn¡¯t hear anything.


    ¡°That¡¯s a sound argument against ever doing it.¡± Tythos said.


    Tythos turned back to Peony and resumed talking about magic. Bird tuned out the conversation, but studied the man. He seemed genuine, if cynical and a bit insane. From what he could tell, the man had been telling the truth about being willing to go into Ginnung Gap in order to secure a better chance at helping the people of this valley. Sigrun was naive, agreeing to go with him. She¡¯d never seen it. If she had, she never would have thought of going. Agreeing to go into the gaping wound torn into the pearth; open wide like a dark hungry maw. A jagged hole in the ground that could swallow the capital whole.


    Bird had seen it. Laid eyes on it. The darkness had unnerved him. More than that, the knowledge of what lay within the darkness. What every hunter who now lived knew. That darkness was the home of the monsters. The dream world.


    ***


    Tythos could hear the creature laughing outside the farmhouse. It was the only sound he could hear outside. The wind had stopped blowing. The world had taken on a settled quiet. It sounded like the snow had stopped falling. He was running out of time. Ten years with nothing to do but fail at farming and now he didn¡¯t have enough time.


    ¡°What did you mean, you used too much?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Tythos focused on the kid in front of him.


    ¡°You said you used too much of the balefire, what¡¯d you mean?¡±


    ¡°He means, braggarts draw attention of god,¡± said the short woman behind him. She had an accent, her words sounding out of place in their structure.


    ¡°What?¡± Tythos turned and looked at her, she¡¯d been so quiet he¡¯d forgotten about her.


    She smiled, ¡°Other way, no rose without the thorn.¡±


    ¡°Weird analogy,¡± Tythos said. ¡°But she¡¯s right. When you use balefire it fucks with the weather. You should see the shit it does at sea. Near unsurvivable.¡±


    ¡°Wait¡­¡± the kid¡¯s eyes got big, ¡°you mean you made it snow?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Tythos. ¡°Well, I mean, sort of. Calling balefire doesn¡¯t always cause snow. I¡¯m not actually that good at predicting what it will do, it depends on a bunch of measurements I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°What measurements?¡± Asked the kid.


    ¡°Never mind that,¡± said Tythos. ¡°We¡¯re off topic. Go back to where you get the power for your magic. Are you telling me that when you call fire, or whatever you called it, that it doesn¡¯t fatigue you?¡±


    ¡°If you told me what they were called I might know them¡ª¡°


    Tythos snapped his fingers. ¡°Focus kid, people are in trouble and I¡¯m trying to figure out if there¡¯s another way for me to use magic today without killing myself.¡±


    ¡°Okay, sorry. Right. Wait, seriously? You mean if you spoke the balefire invocation again you¡¯d die?¡±


    ¡°Almost certainly, and it doesn¡¯t work that way. The words¡ª burn baby burn¡ª aren¡¯t any more magic than pig shit.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    ¡°Hey¡­¡± said the nightmare.


    ¡°Saying them is just a rule made up by a being with a perverse mind to torture me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just rude.¡±


    ¡°First I¡¯ve got to draw the sigil for balefire. It¡¯s important not to mess this up, channeling magic into a miss-drawn sigil had undesirable effects.¡±


    ¡°Undesirable effects?¡±


    ¡°Ever been struck by lightning?¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s no fun. So after you draw it correctly, you¡¯ve got to channel magic into it until it¡¯s full. Then get out of the way before it manifests.¡±


    ¡°So, what purpose do the words serve?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re just theatrics to appease the thing that gives me access to the power.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not true¡­¡± said the nightmare.


    ¡°Access to power,¡± the kid mused. ¡°I still don¡¯t think I understand. What do you mean does it fatigue me?¡±


    ¡°What it sounds like. Make you tired, hurt you, feel exhausting. Does each successive time you use magic pull on your brain until it feels like it¡¯s being juiced like an orange, and one more time will either make you pass out or kill you?¡±


    The kid stared at him for a long minute. ¡°Uh¡­ no. The more I use it the harder and harder it becomes to hold the mental structure needed to speak it into place. It doesn¡¯t hurt.¡±


    ¡°Mental structure?¡± Tythos leaned forward. ¡°Explain that.¡±


    ¡°Umm, okay¡­ I can do this. If you closed your eyes and tried to see a picture of something specific, could you do that?¡±


    ¡°Sure kid, who couldn¡¯t do that?¡±


    He laughed, ¡°You¡¯d be surprised. Lots of people can¡¯t do that, but that¡¯s just the beginning. The hard part is you have to clearly picture it with your eyes open, then believe the thing you are picturing is connected to where you¡¯re picturing it and believe it¡¯s real before anything happens. Then you can say the words that contain the structure and if there¡¯s a strong enough connection the power will bridge the gap and BOOM!¡±


    Peony clapped his hands together for effect. ¡°Oh yeah, and you have to be pitch perfect when you say the words.¡±


    Tythos stared at him. ¡°Right. So if I imagined punching you in the nose and believed that I already had, you¡¯d get a headache?¡±


    The kid scrunched up his face in worry.


    ¡°Forget about it. You¡¯re giving me a headache. Can you teach me some of the words of ¡®boom¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Uhh, I could try, but without the tuning fork I can¡¯t be sure you¡¯d be getting them right. You¡¯ve got to match the frequency of each polysymphonic syllable to get it right, and you¡¯ve got a different vocal range than me, so you¡¯d need a different set of forks than I¡¯ve got.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got a set of magic forks on you?¡±


    The short girl started laughing, ¡°Yes, magic forks¡ª and every night he sings to them for practice. Makes sounds like a cat in heat.¡± She continued laughing.


    The kid blushed and looked angry, ¡°It¡¯s serious practice!¡±


    Tythos shook his head. ¡°Let¡¯s try this another way. I¡¯m not learning to howl like a cat.¡± The kid blushed deeper.


    Tythos got up and walked over to the broken table. He sifted through the pile for a moment until he found a board that would work for what he wanted. Sigrun approached him when he stood back up. He looked up at her. Tythos was not a tall man. He was not the shortest person in the room, but Sigrun was head and shoulders taller than the average man. Her head was near the small log structure¡¯s ceiling. She¡¯d been standing off to the side before approaching.


    ¡°What should we do with these men?¡± She indicated the two soldiers Tythos had brought in.


    ¡°Do whatever you want with them,¡± Tythos said. ¡°I wanted to question them, but they¡¯re out of Pallbrook like the other boys. Far as I can tell, they don¡¯t know anything about the decaunit camped nearby.¡±


    ¡°Decaunit?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, never mind that. I came up with my own shorthand for the king¡¯s men in the war. You should sit down.¡±


    ¡°What? Why?¡± She looked offended.


    ¡°Because you¡¯re going to stop being able to think clearly if you keep your head up in the smoke until we come up with a plan. Come sit down nearby and help me make a plan.¡±


    Sigrun looked hesitant. She glanced at the two soldiers. Tythos leaned close to her and spoke low.


    ¡°Look, you don¡¯t got to like me, but we¡¯re stuck together for a while. I can see that you feel like you¡¯re supposed to be in charge.¡±


    ¡°I am in charge.¡± She said.


    ¡°No, you¡¯re in command. When you get these people back into a city where someone higher can enforce discipline, you¡¯ll be in charge. Out here, you¡¯ll have to earn it or they¡¯ll leave you dead in a ditch and say you were eaten by a bear.¡±


    Sigrun looked angry, ¡°The king¡¯s soldiers have honor. When they take their oath they¡ª¡°


    ¡°No,¡± Tythos cut her off, ¡°You have honor. The people in this room will leave you for dead if they think you made a bad call.¡±


    Sigrun glanced uncertainly around, then looked back at Tythos, her eyes asking for help, her lips set in a firm line.


    ¡°Nothing personal,¡± Tythos looked down at the stump at the end of his arm, the outline of the hand wasn¡¯t visible without direct sunlight. ¡°Believe it, or don¡¯t. You¡¯re just not a leader. You can take my advice, or leave it.¡±


    Tythos turned away. He needed to figure out if the kid could do anything with a sigil. He walked over to the the fireplace and grabbed a bit of kindling. Sticking the tip in the coals, he waited for it to catch fire, then blew it out. Using the charred tip, he scetched out a simple sigil on the board he held. He inspected his work carefully, double checking and then checking again. Being struck by lightning really wasn¡¯t fun.


    Finally satisfied, he shoed Bird away from the fireplace to make room. He set the board down on the hearth and motioned the kid over to take a look at what he had. The kid looked hesitant, but a light filled his eyes as he stepped closer.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a question,¡± he said. He shifted back and forth, uncomfortable.


    ¡°Spit it out.¡±


    He looked at Tythos. He started, stopped, and after a moment, cleared his throat and seemed to find the courage he was searching for.


    "I saw what you did to those soldiers," he said, pointing with his head to the porch in the yard, his eyes indicating that he didn''t want to describe what Tythos had done.


    Tythos shrugged. "So what?" he said, losing patience with the subject.


    "I just¡­ I was curious," he said. "How many men have you killed?"


    Tythos snorted. "Enough."


    The nightmare, nearby still, spat out a number. "Ten thousand, eight hundred and seventy one. Although, this is an interesting question because, if you think about the deeper implications of starting a war, then the number should be higher. If you were causing the death or through your actions, we shouldn''t just count the number you dispatched yourself."


    "Quiet!" Tythos thundered. Everyone in the cabin looked at him. "Not you," he said, waving them off. "Do not spit that number out," Tythos said. The people in the room were giving him confused looks. "I''m talking to my monster. Leave me alone,¡± he said to the room.


    "Monster? Rude," the nightmare huffed. "I thought you were going with creature. It''s so much more dignified than monster."


    "Really?" Tythos said. "Fucking dignified? What''s wrong with you? Wait, don''t answer that. That is not a question. I didn''t ask that to you. I was talking to myself. You do not have my permission to answer.¡±


    "Ah, spoilsport," the nightmare huffed. "I had a list already composed. You know I wrote this years ago. ¡®What''s wrong with you?¡¯ Honey to my ears. I''ve been waiting for you to ask me. You''re so selfish. You never do what I want to do. It''s only you, you, you, you, you. Disgusting. You''re such a Neanderthal."


    "A Neanderthal? I thought you called me a barbarian. What''s a Neanderthal?" Tythos asked.


    "It''s a barbarian with a smaller brain and a thicker skull¡ªYou know what? Leave me alone. I want to wallow in this new level of melancholy that you have dumped me into. I need to really appreciate this flavor. Brute."


    Tythos let out a deep sigh and tapped the board with the sigil on it.


    ¡°Is that a sigil?¡± The Kid asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Is that going to burn with more of the green fire?¡±


    ¡°What? No! Of course not! What makes you think I¡¯d do that shit indoors?¡±


    The kid looked hesitant. He opened his mouth, but Tythos cut him off, ¡°Don¡¯t answer that. Don¡¯t ever summon balefire indoors.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean you¡¯ll show me how?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°But you said¡­¡±


    ¡°Try and learn a life lesson. I¡¯m not showing you how to summon balefire.¡±


    The kid looked at the complex shape on the board.


    ¡°So what¡¯s this?¡±


    ¡°This is the simplest sigil I know, and it takes the least energy¡ª especially when drawn this small.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s it do?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to try and pronounce the name. Basically, it makes things brittle, very easy to break. Done right, it¡¯ll be like the wood is a hundred years old and rotted.¡±


    ¡°Who named it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, whoever wrote the book¡ª¡°


    ¡°There¡¯s a book?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, stay on task here, I¡¯m going to try and walk you through activating this.¡±


    ¡°What would happen if you drew that on a person?¡±


    ¡°Shit kid, that¡¯s dark. I have no idea, I presume they¡¯d die horribly.¡±


    ¡°Mmmm,¡± said the nightmare, ¡°Why haven¡¯t we ever done this before? I like the way Peony thinks. Can I keep him? He can be my pet human, and he can help us come up with new and creative ways to kill people!¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Tythos.


    ¡°What?¡± Said the kid.


    ¡°No, we¡¯re not drawing this on people!¡° Tythos tried to tune the Nightmare out, ¡°Just focus for a second will ya?¡±


    The kid nodded and kept his mouth shut. Tythos continued,


    ¡°Okay, so you¡¯ll need you put your hand in the middle of the sigil and be careful not to smudge it.¡±


    ¡°What happens if I smudge it?¡±


    Tythos gave him a flat look, ¡°You get struck by lightning when you put power into it.¡±


    ¡°Really? I thought that¡¯s what happened with the balefire sigil.¡±


    ¡°Just count on that, or something worse happening if you screw up any sigil, okay?¡±


    The kid nodded. He reached out and set his hand in the middle of the sigil like he was reaching for a snake. Tythos nodded, at least the kid appeared to have some respect for the danger that magic posed.


    ¡°Now what?¡± The kid looked up at Tythos, then looked back at his hand resting on the board. He kept his eyes on his hand while he waited for an answer.


    ¡°Now fill the marking up with power,¡± Tythos said.


    The kid scrunched his eyebrows together, staring at his hand. Nothing happened.


    ¡°Umm, any tips on how to do that?¡±


    Tythos sighed. ¡°This is never going to work,¡± he mumbled.


    ¡°What?¡± The kid asked, still looking at his hand.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Tythos tried to keep his frustration out of his voice. ¡°Can you close your eyes and picture the sigil I just drew?¡±


    ¡°Can I move my hand and study it?¡±


    Tythos made a ¡°go ahead¡± gesture and the kid withdrew his hand. He turned it over and looked at his palm. Seeing some of the charcoal had transferred onto his skin, he wiped it off on his pants, looking distressed. He checked his palm, then wiped some more. He glanced up at Tythos with a worried expression. Tythos motioned to the board with his eyes and the kid looked down, beginning to study the markings. He stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and leaned over to look closely. Tythos realized this was going to take a minute, so he leaned back and closed his eyes.


    ¡°Wake me when you¡¯ve got it,¡± he said.


    Tythos turned his attention to the nightmare. He could feel its attention shift toward him in turn.


    ¡°Wake me if anything changes,¡± not waiting for a response, Tythos fell asleep.


    ***

 Chapter 13, Timing and The Phantom Itch

    Chapter 13


    Tythos¡¯s eyes snapped open and he took in his surroundings. Log farm house, band of misfits, fire nearby. He came fully awake. Looking over at the kid, he was curious what had woken him. The kid still had his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, but he had his eyes closed and was moving his hand in the air like he was holding a pen. Tythos nodded as he watched the progress of the kid¡¯s hand. If he¡¯d been drawing, he¡¯d likely have recreated a decent sketch of the sigil. Not good enough to channel power into it, but still not bad for a couple minutes of study.


    Looking over, Tythos saw that Sigrun was questioning the two soldiers he¡¯d brought in. The one he¡¯d dragged here was awake. He nodded. He¡¯d have to go ask him some questions after he made sure the kid was not about to kill himself. A soft sound drew his attention and he turned to the short girl sitting nearby. Ah, so that¡¯s what had woken him. She met his eye, still wearing that half-smile that came easily to her. Tythos realized the girl was beautiful. She wasn¡¯t as young as he¡¯d first taken her for, but she was still much younger than he was. She had a face that aged gracefully, and dark intelligent eyes. He felt guilty for liking the way she looked and the way she was looking at him. She was still young, while he¡¯d already lived enough for several lifetimes. He was also bonded to a nightmare. He bundled up the feelings and pushed them aside.


    ¡°Were you sleeping, really?¡± She asked.


    ¡°I was.¡± Tythos said. His internal measure said it hadn¡¯t been long. ¡°Did you wake me just to ask that?¡±


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Her dark eyes studied him. He coudln¡¯t read her expression.


    ¡°I¡¯m wondering why I¡¯m awake when I could have gotten twice as much sleep.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve watching you.¡±


    ¡°Could¡¯a done that while I was sleeping.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be big killer.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, lots of people have told me they thought I would be taller.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re a soft.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°How you say¡­ a bloody heart.¡±


    ¡°No. I am a killer.¡±


    ¡°Oh? This why you bargain for the lives of some common?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like your tone.¡±


    ¡°Make you uncomfortable, I say you care?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m no hero.¡±


    She smirked at him. This was irritating. Somehow her smug attitude reminded him of the creature and its constant company. He leaned forward.


    ¡°How many people have you killed today?¡±


    Her smile faded.


    ¡°And how many did you torture?¡±


    He leaned closer, got in her space.


    ¡°Because so far today, I¡¯m eleven and three. I got about seventy to add to that first number and at least two to add to that second. Call me a bleeding heart again.¡± He leaned closer, invasive. He wanted a fight.


    ¡°I think I got it!¡± Said the kid. His bright chipper voice cut the tension and Tythos leaned back and turned toward the kid.


    ¡°Good,¡± Tythos said, ¡°Show me.¡±


    The kid was giving him a funny look. He had a little smile creeping onto his face.


    ¡°Were you and Regina about to kiss?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Tythos and Regina said it at the same time. He made a note to try and remember her name. If she lived through the night. He didn¡¯t look at her.


    ¡°Sketch the sigil in the air so I can see you¡¯ve got it.¡±


    The kid did it and Tythos followed the progress of what he drew. It did look like he had it down. Tythos could feel Regina¡¯s stare on the back of his head.


    ¡°Sheee likes you,¡± said the creature.


    Tythos ignored it.


    ¡°You like heeer. You¡¯re old enough to be her father. You¡¯ve still got it old man. Time to go get you some hunty.¡± It made a playful imitation of a little growl.


    Tythos was clenching his jaw, but didn¡¯t respond. He tried to focus on something else.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a while, wouldn¡¯t you just love to have her scratch your itch?¡±


    His missing hand started to itch and he bit back a curse. He stood and walked toward the corner of the room where the nightmare crouched.


    ¡°Are you fucking doing that?¡± He roared.


    The smile on the thing¡¯s toad-like face crept wider than it already was.


    ¡°Ten years and it¡¯s been you the whole time?¡± Tythos shouted.


    The smile broke into a grin.


    ¡°I¡¯m amazed it took you this long,¡± said the nightmare.


    Tythos pointed his handless arm at the creature. Its grin melted away into a frown. The luminescent orbs in its baggy head took on a worried light.


    ¡°Hang on,¡± said the creature, ¡°Don¡¯t do anything rash.¡±


    Tythos narrowed his eyes at the creature, he set a picture in his mind, and pulled. The nightmare¡¯s eyes went wide and it turned to flee. It got two steps away, but then stopped moving forward. Though it kept running, it began to be pulled inexorably back.


    ¡°You¡¯re overreacting,¡± it said, a note of fear in its voice. ¡°Doing this now might kill us!¡±


    ¡°Tough shit,¡± said Tythos. ¡°You should have though of that earlier.¡±


    The creature began to melt, appearing to bubble and smoke, the wisps of black boiling off being drawn into Tythos¡¯s stump. They whipped across the space like they were being blown by a gale, all disappearing into the space where his hand should have been. It filled out from the outside in. The outline of the hand formed, looking like a charcoal sketch. Tythos flexed the hand and then opened it wide.


    The nightmare screamed, ¡°Noooooo!¡±


    It appeared to be in pain. Tythos slowed the pull, just enough that the creature was able to take a step away, before yanking back hard. A large chunk tore free from the creature and it began to beg.


    ¡°Please! I¡¯ll be good, I promise! You need me tonight!¡±


    Tythos pulled again, and another chunk flew off the creature and formed one of his fingers. He smiled and used it to motion the creature with a curling, come closer gesture.


    ¡°Are you gonna kill him?¡±


    The voice came from right beside Tythos and he was so startled he stopped pulling. The whole room fell silent. Tythos looked over to see Camfer, the crossbowman he¡¯d questioned, standing beside him, his eyes fixed on the nightmare.


    ¡°You can see it?¡± Tythos asked.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    He still had his hand out, partially formed. The creature was looking back and forth between Tythos and Camfer.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Camfer. ¡°Big fuckin black thing that eats people. Sometimes has the face of a man, sometimes it¡¯s a Giant toad. Kinda hard to miss.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised,¡± Tythos said.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t even chew on you,¡± said the creature, addressing Camfer. ¡°Tell him not to do it. He¡¯s going to kill is both!¡±


    Camfer took his eyes off the nightmare and looked at Tythos.


    ¡°Can you hear it too?¡± Tythos asked.


    ¡°Why are you asking dumb-shit questions?¡± Asked Camfer.


    ¡°What the hell is going on?¡± Said Sigrun.


    Tythos looked over. She was standing just behind them. She looked from the men to the corner where the nightmare stood, its smoke still trembling. Camfer glanced from her to the nightmare, then back at her.


    ¡°Ohhh¡­¡± Camfer said. ¡°You can¡¯t see that thing, can you?¡± He said to Sigrun.


    She looked down at the Camfer, ¡°Thing?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, looks like a smoke demon pretending to be a giant toad. A mean one that likes to sass this man and eat people.¡±


    ¡°Giant toad?¡± Sigrun¡¯s face creased with worry.


    Tythos looked at the creature, and began to laugh. He released the hold he had on it and the pieces of his hand blew back into it. The nightmare shuddered, then folded its arms and sat down. It glowered at Tythos.


    ¡°You¡¯re a sadist, you know that?¡± Said the nightmare. ¡°You felt that pain too. I know you did. You were ready to rip yourself apart just because I can throw some wicked shade. Stubborn brute.¡±


    ¡°Pain is irrelevant. The world would be better off without both of us. Don¡¯t push me.¡±


    ¡°Camfer,¡± Tythos turned away from the creature. ¡°You and I are going to have more to talk about. First I gotta see if I can teach hot-shot over there to channel, or come up with another plan.¡±


    ¡°Another plan?¡± Sigrun said. ¡°We need to talk about your first one.¡±


    Tythos ignored her and walked back over toward where the kid was sitting, a worried look on his face.


    ¡°Giant toad,¡± Tythos said to himself, chuckling.


    ¡°That¡¯s just rude,¡± said the nightmare.


    The kid was pointing at Tythos as he walked over, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead.


    ¡°What, kid?¡± Tythos asked, sitting down. ¡°Use words. I ain¡¯t gonna guess what you want.¡±


    ¡°Your hand!¡± The kid said, still pointing.


    Tythos raised his hand, looking at it. The outline of his missing hand was still there. He opened and closed it. He had some feeling in the fingers. He reached down and picked up the stick he¡¯d drawn the sigil with. He was able to raise it almost eye level, before it fell through the outline of the hand. Holding the stick was like trying to hold a mental image. He hadn¡¯t had feeling in the outline before, or been able to hold the reigns so easily as this. It was also now visible outside of direct sunlight.


    ¡°Well that¡¯s new,¡± Tythos said, looking over at the creature.


    ¡°I tried to warn you it wasn¡¯t a good idea right now.¡±


    ¡°So?¡± He held up the outline hand, ¡°Do you know what this is or not?¡±


    ¡°You broke something.¡±


    ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°It means you won¡¯t be able to do magic or manifest anything until it heals.¡±


    ¡°How long will that take?¡±


    ¡°How long? Impossible to guess, there¡¯s no guarantee it will.¡±


    ¡°Fuck,¡± Tythos said. ¡°What happens if I try on reflex?¡±


    The creature shrugged. ¡°Maybe nothing? Or maybe we both die horribly. I didn¡¯t write these rules, so I don¡¯t know what¡¯s in the fine print.¡±


    ***


    The kid had a look of intense concentration on his face. His hand was in the middle of the sigil and he had his eyes closed. Tythos was watching him, twirling the stick between the fingers of the outline hand. It was exceptionally difficult. If his mental image of the stick faltered for a second, or he tried to move it too fast, it would fall through the hand. He retracted his previous thought that it would be better than having to use will to do it. He wouldn¡¯t be able to touch anything he couldn¡¯t clearly see in his mind¡¯s eye.


    ¡°We were not done talking,¡± said a voice behind him. ¡°It¡¯s rude not to let a a lady finish.¡± She said in a coy tone.


    Tythos lost concentration and dropped the stick. He pretended not to hear her, instead reaching down and picking it back up.


    ¡°Ok,¡± said the kid. ¡°I can see it clearly now. What next?¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± said Tythos. ¡°Now imagine it filling up with power from that other place.¡±


    The kid nodded.


    ¡°That¡¯s not going to work,¡± said the nightmare, from across the room.


    Tythos looked over at it, the stick fell through his fingers. He made a rude gesture at the creature with the outline hand.


    ¡°Sticks and stones,¡± said the creature.


    ¡°Mind getting up off your giant toad ass and telling me what will work then?¡±


    ¡°Rude.¡±


    The creature stood up, stretching languidly. This involved contorting into strange shapes as it rolled and flowed. After it was done, it sauntered over. Camfer gave it a wide berth as it passed. He had been standing in a group with Sigrun and Bird. They were talking in low voices while Tythos worked with the kid. Tythos had been ignoring them. Regina was still sitting nearby. She was watching him. He could feel her eyes on him. He was ignoring her too. The nightmare stood behind the kid and loomed over him, looking down at what he was doing.


    ¡°Definitely won¡¯t work,¡± said the creature.


    ¡°Alright kid,¡± Tythos said. ¡°Give it a break for a second.¡±


    The kid relaxed, sitting back, which caused him to share the same space as the creature. He yelped and sat forward. He looked behind him and rubbed his arms.


    ¡°Brrr!¡± He said. ¡°I think there¡¯s a draft or something. I just had a chill run down my back.¡±


    ¡°Someone step on your grave,¡± Regina said.


    ¡°Something like that,¡± Tythos siad.


    The kid held his hands out to the fire, and tried to repress another shudder. He glanced over his shoulder again, and scooted forward. The creature was looking down at him and grinning.


    ¡°Why do not you use his name? Call him kid and hot-shoot. He is Peony.¡± Regina said from behind him.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Tythos said to the nightmare, ignoring Regina. He made a note to try and remember the kid¡¯s name. ¡°Why won¡¯t it work, and what would?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± The kid looked perplexed, but Tythos held a finger to his lips and pointed behind him. The kid looked around and seemed to grasp what was going on. He scrambled up from where he was sitting and took several steps back.


    The creature looked down at the sigil on the board and stroked its chin in thought. This caused the smoke of its chin to peel off in its fingers and then flow back.


    ¡°First,¡± said the creature. ¡°It won¡¯t work because there is no, other place, like he believes. So power can¡¯t be drawn from it no matter how much he concentrates.¡±


    Tythos picked up the stick again, ¡°So where does the kid get the power he uses from?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know where the power you get from me comes from,¡± said the nightmare.


    ¡°Irrelevant, unless the kid can pull from the same source.¡±


    ¡°No. He can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Then tell me where he¡¯s getting it¡­ unless you don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Of course I know¡ª¡°


    ¡°Then tell me.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have the words.¡±


    ¡°You sound like a child. Make an attempt to help me understand.¡±


    ¡°If you you¡¯d just deepen our bond¡­¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°But then you¡¯d know, and probably be able to do magic again yourself.¡±


    ¡°I said no.¡±


    ¡°You may even be able to take me inside the wards.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and I might lose my soul while handing you the reigns of control. Not happening.¡±


    ¡°I told you that¡¯s not how it works.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just stalling because you have no idea, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    The nightmare blew a raspberry, ¡°Fine. Ask him if he can see them?¡±


    ¡°Them?¡±


    The creature folded its arms and turned away.


    Tythos sighed. He turned toward the kid and asked,


    ¡°Can you see them?¡±


    The kid looked confused, ¡°Uhh, what?¡±


    Tythos looked back at the nightmare, ¡°You see what you get for being vague? Do you care to clarify, or are you going to admit you don¡¯t know?¡±


    The creature stuck its tongue out at Tythos. ¡°Ask him, when he does what he thinks is an invocation; if he can see the magic before it activates.¡±


    Tythos eyed the creature, ¡°I don¡¯t like how you make magic sound like it¡¯s alive.¡±


    ¡°Knowing you, now you¡¯ll search until you find a way to kill it. How would you feel if I told you that water¡¯s alive too?¡±


    ¡°Like you¡¯re a liar.¡±


    ¡°Fine. I won¡¯t even talk to you about fire.¡±


    Tythos shook his head, ¡°Yeah, yeah, and the pearth and the rocks and then you¡¯re going to argue even the statesmen and the nobles now, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I like statesmen, they¡¯re so vicious.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re disgusting.¡± Tythos turned toward the kid again. ¡°Okay, when you set things on fire, can you see magic before it manifests?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the kid shook his head, ¡°Is that really possible?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s going to make this harder,¡± said the creature. ¡°Peony is going to have to call fire, then in the point between when it lands and when it goes off, he¡¯ll have to draw the sigil in his mind to redirect the power. Too soon or too late and it won¡¯t work.¡±


    Tythos turned toward Peony and relayed the explanation the creature had given. Peony whistled. He put his hands on his hips and scrunched up his face, looking into the middle distance.


    ¡°Think you can do it?¡±


    ¡°Getting the timing right won¡¯t be easy,¡± Peony said.


    ¡°Good,¡± said Tythos. ¡°This sort of thing shouldn¡¯t be easy.¡± Tythos muttered the name ¡°Peony.¡± He studied the kid in front of him for a minute. ¡°What¡¯s your full name kid?¡±


    ¡°Peony Delmont, why?¡±


    ¡°Thank the halls¡­ because I needed a way to stop thinking of a flower every time I see you. If I think of you as Delmont in my mind, it¡¯s going to be easier to take you seriously.¡±


    ¡°Umm¡­¡±


    ¡°What are you waiting for?¡± Tythos indicated the sigil with a glance. ¡°Get cracking hot-shot.¡±


    Peony sat back down and placed his hand on the sigil. He began to speak his strange words. The long syllables really did sound like a cat, and Tythos almost snorted. Not wanting to break Peony¡¯s concentration, he reached for the stick again. He began to twirl it between his fingers.


    ¡°Is it true, your thing looks like a toad?¡± Regina whispered in his ear, he tone dripping with lascivious implication.


    Tythos dropped the stick. The board burst into flame and Peony yelped and leapt back. Regina started laughing. It was not an unpleasant sound. Tythos was starting to like Regina, and this irritated him. He tossed the board into the fireplace.


    ¡°Try again,¡± he said to Peony, he avoided looking at Regina.


    Peony looked into the fireplace, ¡°We¡¯re going to need another sigil.¡±


    Tythos reached down and picked up the stick again. He handed it to Peony. Peony looked down at it with a fearful expression.


    ¡°But¡­ what if I get it wrong?¡±


    ¡°That attitude will motivate good practice. Get to it.¡±


    Tythos selected another bit of kindling to try and pick up. It took several tries, the mental image of the last stick incompatible with the new one. Peony had gotten another board and sat down, drawing the sigil with his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, before Tythos managed to pick it up. The exercise made the inside of his head feel sore.


    ¡°If you need help grasping your stick, a girl might be talked into giving a hand,¡± Regina said behind him.


    Tythos dropped his stick. Regina laughed again.


    ***

 Chapter 14, Tempers Flair

    Chapter 14


    Sigrun walked over and stood near Tythos. He didn¡¯t glance at her. He got the impression she was trying to be imposing. He dropped the stick. Regina tutted from somewhere behind him. Peony was beginning to sweat as he drew the lines of the sigil. The nightmare had sat down in the middle of the room and was watching Camfer with a hungry expression. Camfer had retreated into the empty corner, pulling his unit-mate with him. He was eyeing the creature, speaking in low tones with the other man who had regained consciousness. Bird had gone outside to have a look around. Lance was still asleep on the floor nearby.


    Tythos looked up at Sigrun, picking the stick back up, ¡°Yes, princess?¡±


    Sigrun¡¯s brow darkened, ¡°I¡¯m not a royal,¡± she said.


    She sounded like she was genuinely correcting a mistake. Regina chuckled. Tythos felt irritated that she was laughing at her commander, even though he was the cause of it. He stood, though Sigrun still towered over him, it was more respectful.


    ¡°What do you need, commander?¡± He put some snap into his voice. Regina shut up.


    ¡°I need to know the plan,¡± Sigrun said. ¡°I agreed to help you, and have to decide how best to deploy my unit.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s going to depend on weather or not I can teach hot-shot here to activate this sigil.¡±


    ¡°If you can?¡±


    ¡°We sneak into their camp, modify their wards to be this sigil and activate it. Then kill anyone who survives. Saving one or two for questions of course.¡±


    ¡°If you can¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°I find another way to kill everyone.¡±


    ¡°Why not evacuate the farmers?¡±


    ¡°One, they woudln¡¯t go. Two, they¡¯ve got nowhere to go, which is the reason for one.¡±


    ¡°Have you considered negotiation?¡±


    Tythos eyed her, ¡°Actually no. Do you think we have a chance of success?¡±


    Sigrun was quiet for a long moment. She nodded. ¡°We do, if them keeping you alive is a better outcome for the orders they have.¡±


    ¡°Explain,¡± Tythos said.


    ¡°Sounds like they¡¯re working hard to stay out of sight. It¡¯s unlikely that¡¯s for your benefit, since you¡¯re going to be thrown in a hole when we get where we¡¯re going.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said you didn¡¯t know what the commander wants.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t, but your logic makes sense. How up to date are you on the goings-on of the kingdom?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a common pig farmer on the ass end of the kingdom, who only speaks to other farmers. How much could I know?¡±


    Sigrun raised an eyebrow at him.


    ¡°Yeah, ok,¡± Tythos chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re sharper than I thought you were.¡± He paused to give Sigrun a chance to get angry, but she didn¡¯t take the bait. ¡°I know the dream world is causing problems. Even the local farmers know about what they¡¯ve been calling the ¡®Darkening¡¯. Stupid damn name, but I haven¡¯t been able to talk anyone out of using it. I¡¯ve tried to get several names to catch on: Everdark, The Everstorm, and my favorite, Even-tidal-wave.¡±


    ¡°Can we stay on topic?¡±


    Tythos scowled at her, ¡°You too? Damn.¡±


    Sigrun pressed on, ¡°Containment failed, and it¡¯s spreading.¡±


    ¡°Containment? You mean they broke the treaty.¡±


    ¡°Treaty?¡±


    ¡°Ahh, seems you don¡¯t have enough status to know about that. That was what I secured the last time I went to the other side.¡±


    ¡°There are rumors that you entered Ginnung Gap and came back.¡±


    ¡°Rumors? They put you in charge of secreting me across the country and that¡¯s all you know? Rumors? Fucking politics.¡±


    ¡°Then why not you put them to bed, eh?¡± Regina said.


    Tythos glanced at her. She had a little smile quirking the corner of her mouth. Her eyes danced with amusement, searching his face and seeming to like what she saw. Tythos looked away before he smiled back.


    He growled an oath and tried to focus. He had things to do. Promises to keep. He would not become attached to this group of people. He turned back to Sigrun.


    ¡°I really don¡¯t care to, no. Believe what you want.¡± He didn¡¯t know if he was addressing Regina or Sigrun. ¡°We¡¯re way off topic. You really think you can ride into this camp and convince these soldiers to ride on?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s worth a try,¡± Sigrun said.


    ¡°Like hell it is. If it works, it¡¯s our best option. If it doesn¡¯t, it¡¯s our worst. Right now, they don¡¯t know that we know they¡¯re there. You ride in and fail, we give away that advantage, and they probably kill you to make their point.¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯ve got it!¡± Peony looked up from the board he¡¯d been working on.


    ¡°You think?¡± Tythos glowered at him, ¡°How about be sure?¡±


    The elation on the kid¡¯s face melted away. He looked at what he¡¯d drawn then back at Tythos, ¡°I think I¡¯m sure?¡±


    ¡°Damnit, let me see it.¡± He took the board and inspected the sigil Peony had drawn. He nodded. It was close. He handed the board back. ¡°This sigil is symmetrical. Keep that in mind and you can find the mistake you made.¡±


    Peony¡¯s eyebrows drew together in concentration as he leaned over the drawing. Tythos turned back to Sigrun.


    ¡°Think through the problem. Why are there soldiers hidden out there, prepared to kill everyone on our back trail while you sneak me across the country?¡±


    Sigrun folded her arms across her chest, ¡°If you know why, then just tell us. I don¡¯t need you to try and teach me something.¡±


    Tythos stretched his neck, looking up at her was becoming tiresome, ¡°Can you sit down before my neck cramps trying to talk to you?¡± Sigrun didn¡¯t move. ¡°No? Wonderful. Okay¡­ I¡¯m a common and a pig farmer. I¡¯ve been in this valley for a decade. I¡¯ve got three or four good guesses as to what¡¯s going on, but not enough current information to be sure. So, you should use what you know, and make a guess so that I¡¯ve got more information to work with. Think out loud, walk me through it.¡±


    Sigrun¡¯s mouth formed a hard line and she searched his face before coming to a decision. After a moment of thought, she nodded. She glanced at Lance, who was still unconscious.


    ¡°This is the northern-most holding in the kingdom,¡± she began. ¡°Seigneur Endelmyer controls more land than is typical for his station. He is the king¡¯s brother¡¯s son, and I¡¯ve heard it said that he requested of the king that you serve as common on his holding. Apparently he was unhappy about being sent so far away from the capital.¡±The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Tythos nodded, ¡°That makes sense. That man¡¯s a weasel who would murder his way into a position to be in line for succession of the throne.¡±


    Sigrun raised an eyebrow, ¡°Isn¡¯t that what you did?¡±


    ¡°Yes. And we both know I¡¯m a monster and what my motivations are. Keep thinking out loud.¡±


    Sigrun made a face, but pressed on, ¡°Well, in light of the orders for secrecy on our part, it seems unlikely that Seigneur Endelmyer knows that the king ordered you moved.¡±


    Tythos nodded, ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to ask you about that. If you had orders to keep it secret, why didn¡¯t you show up in the night, instead of riding up on my farm and shouting my name?¡±


    Sigrun creased her brows, ¡°We¡¯re not thieves. We¡¯re king¡¯s men. We do not skulk around in the dark. Besides, I had Bird scout the farm, he said it was isolated.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh, and did you have Bird look for watchers who were going to report back to Endelmyer? Seems to me he didn¡¯t even know who it was he was coming to act as guide to.¡±


    ¡°I was under orders to tell no one¡ª¡°


    ¡°That¡¯s your problem right there,¡± Tythos cut her off. ¡°You¡¯re not thinking past your orders. You just proved you can think, but you got this great big blind spot called duty¡ª¡°


    Sigrun took hold of Tythos by his shirt, and leaned close, practically spitting the words, ¡°You do not get to tell me what my problem is!¡±


    Tythos looked back at her, his expression placid. ¡°You¡¯re right. I got no room to throw stones. Now let go of my shirt.¡±


    Sigrun looked for a minute like she was going to try and push him into the fire, then she let go, turned and walked out the front door. She didn¡¯t bother to close it behind her. Tythos could hear her footsteps as she walked into the snow.


    ¡°You really put your foot in the goat,¡± Regina said.


    Tythos turned toward her, ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Woman is a fickle thing,¡± she said.


    ¡°Are those two statements supposed to be related?¡±


    ¡°Mmm,¡± she smiled. ¡°Yes, and no.¡±


    Tythos scrubbed his hand across his face, ¡°Your mama know you¡¯re flirting with a madman? If I¡¯d started early, you¡¯re young enough to be my granddaughter.¡±


    ¡°Did you,¡± her smile widened, ¡°Start early?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°When did you start?¡±


    Tythos could feel the attention of the nightmare turn in his direction.


    ¡°Yeees, when did you start?¡± The creature said.


    ¡°We¡¯re not talking about this,¡± Tythos said.


    The nightmare sauntered over, ¡°Inquiring minds want to know.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got it!¡± Said Peony.


    Tythos turned toward Peony, ¡°Alright hot-shot, show me what you got.¡±


    ¡°Your boys are leaving,¡± Said Regina.


    ¡°What?¡±


    Tythos glanced at her. She pointed behind him. Tythos whirled in time to see the pair of soldiers slip out the front door.


    ¡°Goddamnit!¡± Tythos muttered and took off after them. He stumbled on Lance¡¯s prone form and caught himself with his hands on the ground. The hand that was an outline held his weight for a fraction of a second, then passed through the floor. Tythos blinked at it. He could feel underneath the boards. He pulled his hand free and stared at it.


    Lance stirred underneath Tythos and came awake. He let out a cry and began fighting his way out from underneath. Tythos caught an elbow in the thigh and kicked Lance out from underneath him. Tythos rolled into a crouch at the same time as Lance did, Lance reaching for the dagger at his belt.


    Tythos grabbed the man¡¯s wrist, locking it down and caught a straight jab from Lance that rocked his head back. Growling, Tythos reached out and got hold of something and squeezed. It had a familiar feel in his hand and the picture came easily to his mind. He had reached inside Lance¡¯s chest and taken hold of his heart. Tythos bore down on it, fighting it to stillness. He looked lance in the eye as the man¡¯s stunned expression went from shock to horror. His eyes rolled up in his head and the man slumped. Tythos leaned in and squeezed harder¡ª something hit him on the top of his head.


    Tythos looked up. Regina had her unstrung bow and had slapped him on top of his head with it. She said something, but he couldn¡¯t hear past the roaring in his ears. He looked back down at the man in front of him. The heart he had hold of was not struggling anymore. He let go and lance fell in a lifeless heap.


    His hearing came back as his temper cooled and he heard Regina shouting at him. He didn¡¯t recognize the language she was speaking. He sat back, breathing hard. She stopped shouting and crouched over Lance, putting a finger to his neck, then putting her ear down by his mouth.


    She sat up and looked at him, ¡°You killed him.¡± Her statement was so calm it was almost a question.


    Tythos looked at the prone figure and shook his head. He sighed.


    ¡°Not quite,¡± he said.


    He pulled the body closer and rolled it onto its back. He hit lance in the chest over his heart. Nothing happened. He hit him again. Again, nothing. He hit him several more times, spacing out the rhythm of it. After the fifth or sixth blow, lance gasped and arched his back. He began coughing, then clutched at his chest and curled up, letting out a low keening sound.


    Tythos pushed himself to his feet. He sighed again and headed for the door.


    ¡°Keep trying with that sigil hot-shot,¡± he said to Peony. The kid gave him a wide eyed look, but nodded.


    Tythos stepped outside and looked for the soldiers. There were four sets of tracks leading away into the snow. Tythos shook his head.


    ¡°This is turning into a long damn day,¡± he said and picked one to follow.


    ***


    Regina sat by the fire, looking at the door Tythos had left by. This was turning into a weird day. She glanced down at Lance, who was sitting up, with his back against a wall, eyes closed, focused on breathing. Peony was sitting by the fire, pulling his tuning forks out of his pack. Regina knew what they were, even though she¡¯d given him a hard time about them.


    She¡¯d come into this assignment with the usual assumption, that her job would be easier if no one knew what she was. When the people you were traveling with learned you were an assassin, they stopped sleeping as well. They¡¯d have questions for you every death they encountered, no matter if it was impossible it¡¯d been you, and they stopped letting you have a turn preparing food. Not that she could blame them. Assassin was not a role regularly trained in the king¡¯s soldiers. People knew about them, but what they knew was largely obscured by the intentional disinformation that was spread about.


    Regina had played dumb, laying on her accent thick and not volunteering anything. She was pretty sure the only one who saw through her was Bird. That man was sharper than anyone realized. When he¡¯d caught up with her and Peony, at the charred remains of the forest fire, he¡¯d pulled her aside.


    ¡°I expected better of you,¡± Bird said, his tone angry.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± She¡¯d been ready to fight, but he didn¡¯t let her get going.


    ¡°We both know you¡¯re better than this. Letting whatever game you¡¯re playing risk the lives of the people in your party is beneath you. I¡¯m not going to tell them you¡¯re not who you seem, but if you can¡¯t toe the line and pull your weight, we¡¯ll be better off if you disappear. Nothing worse than thinking you¡¯ve got support, when that person will abandon you at the first sign of trouble.¡±


    Bird had turned and walked away, none of the others seeming to have noticed anything out of place. He¡¯d led them until they found Lance, then brought them all to this farmhouse.


    Regina had taken off the wet layers of clothing while Peony started a fire. Then she¡¯d proceeded to sulk. She made a face and shook her head. She¡¯d like to make an excuse for why she¡¯d sat in the corner and played foreigner, but she knew the truth. It sat like a weight in her stomach.


    She¡¯d seen the two soldiers would try to run. No one else had seemed to notice. She had kept her mouth shut. She¡¯d tried flirting with Tythos, which had made him angry. She wondered when the last time he had someone in his life was. He kept up a brusk front, but Regina thought the man was more alone than anyone she¡¯d ever met.


    She wanted to understand him. When he¡¯d walked in and taken the city, she¡¯d become fixated on him. The power he had. Able to take what he wanted. And he¡¯d tried to do good with it. She saw that. He¡¯d announced the dissolution of status. After twenty days, the riots had started.


    She knew it was those who¡¯d lost the most who were behind it. They dressed up as the poor and incited the people to riot. It started small, but rumors spread and the rioting grew worse. For nearly a year, things were bad. She¡¯d watched the city pull itself apart.


    Then there¡¯d been the duel. Sigrun had challenged Tythos. Regina had been well informed around the time this had happened. The faceless troublemakers had promised to withdraw if Tythos won. Equal stakes were asked for on Tythos¡¯s part. It was all a ploy to assassinate Tythos, but he¡¯d done what no one expected. He¡¯d accepted, arranged the duel in a very public place, lost the duel quickly, and ordered the withdrawal of his army. They¡¯d left, and Tythos had surrendered. He¡¯d been held while things settled and then a year later, publicly executed. Regina had not attended.


    She¡¯d mourned the loss of the, so called, Tyrant king. Regina had never mustered the courage to use her connections to approach him. He had clearly been in over his head, trying to take over the rule of the city. She believed that if he¡¯d had the right advisors, he could have ushered in a new era. His ideas were radical, that the common were people who deserved equal rights, and magic was evil. It had all gotten lost in the rumors spread about him. He was now perhaps the most hated man in history, held up as an example of what evil was.


    Now she¡¯d met the man. She¡¯d seen him up close and somehow still hidden from him. She¡¯d wanted to tell him that she knew what he¡¯d tried to do and the she thought he was right. Instead she¡¯d made him uncomfortable until he¡¯d lost his temper. Twice.


    She glanced at Lance. The man still hadn¡¯t opened his eyes. Tythos had been reaching inside of his chest with that weird dark hand. Regina shuddered. She tried to turn her thoughts back to self recrimination, but her heart wasn¡¯t in it. Regina decided to change things going forward instead of feeling bad now.


    She got up and began to dress for travel in the snow. She hated the cold, it reminded her of being powerless and hungry on the streets. That didn¡¯t mean that she couldn¡¯t push those feeling aside. She finished quickly and said a prayer. It was time for her to contribute to this party. It was time for her to support the man who had shaped her motivations for her life. She had never told anyone, but Tythos was the reason she drove herself to become dangerous. Pushing even these thoughts aside, Regina slipped out the door and into the night. It was time for her to do her job. She was going to go kill some people.


    ***

 Chapter 15, Shadows of Death

    Chapter 15


    Lancaster Devereux hurt all over. His head swam and he had trouble remembering where he was or how he¡¯d gotten there. He¡¯d been having nightmares. Horrific things where something in the dark was eating him alive.


    He cracked his eyes and looked around. He sat in some sort of filthy one room hovel. The sort of thing a common would live in. Log and daub construction, which meant he was out of the city. Now that he thought about it, he did have vague memories of leaving the city.


    A light musical humming drew his attention. It sounded feminine. Lance realized he was not alone. Sitting by the fireplace, a skinny girl with long, glossy, black hair was hunched over something. Her back was to him and she was humming to herself.


    Lance shook his head, trying to clear it. What had he been doing before waking up here? It felt like it had been something important. Had he gotten drunk and had a trist with a common? He eyed the skinny girl by the fire. She didn¡¯t seem like his type. This also didn¡¯t explain why he felt like he¡¯d been trampled by a horse.


    Whatever the girl was working on burst into flame, and she cursed and threw it into the fireplace. Lance blinked as she got up and strode across the room and began to rummage through a pile of garbage. The girl was put together like a boy. She stopped and looked up at Lance,


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re awake!¡± Said Peony.


    Recognition hit Lance and he groaned, closing his eyes to banish all thoughts that he¡¯d been watching a girl. He heard Peony move off. Something clicked, and he realized the pile of garbage had been a table. He remembered how it broke.


    ¡°Sigrun,¡± he said.


    Pushing himself up straighter, lance looked around again. The room should have contained people. Where had they gone?


    As he looked, one corner in particular caught his eye. It seemed darker than the rest of the room. Looking at it, he had a flash of irrational fear. He looked away, getting his heart and breathing under control. Those had not been nightmares. He¡¯d gone somewhere¡­ else. Somewhere impossible.


    Lance remembered now. He¡¯d taken a step forward, and was met by the sensation of missing a stair; then falling. He¡¯d continued falling, each second making the inevitable impact a more certain death.


    He¡¯d been surrounded by absolute darkness, tumbling in the air. A long fall. Certain he was going to die, then he hit water. The impact was painful and jarring. Disoriented, he kicked for the surface, only to find more water. He kicked and strained, ditched his boots and cloak, becoming more and more desperate. His chest burned and his lungs ached, but he only found more water. He stopped, letting himself float, until he found which direction was up. Once found, he swum with desperate energy, and struck the muddy bottom. He twisted, got his feet on the mud and kicked off. He went nowhere. The mud took hold and began sucking him down.


    He was trapped, at the bottom of some cursed subterranean lake. He struggled to free his feet, until he reached his limit and took in a lung-full of water. It brought relief, breathing again after holding it so long. The wrongness of it hit him, and he tried to cough out the water and gasp in a breath of air. The pain was incredible, a clutching, wrenching need as his lungs filled with fire and he began to convulse. He vomited the water out, then gasped more in, the pain becoming worse. He was going to die.


    Then somehow he broke the surface and floundered onto a muddy bank. He vomited water again, taking in ragged, painful gasps of air between heaves. Then he collapsed, gasping like a beached fish. Something crawled onto his arm and bit him.


    Its little feet tickled across his skin, then with iron-vice jaws it pinched until his skin broke and began frenetically digging into the cut. Trying to get under his skin. He slapped the thing, crushing its little chitinous body in his hand with a wet pop. It had long brittle legs that were sharp when they broke. Lance pushed himself to his feet. Stumbling in the darkness. More of the creatures crawled onto his skin.


    Lance shuddered and tore his eyes away from the dark corner and his memories. He stared into the fire for a moment, needing the light, then rolled up his sleeve and looked. His flesh was whole and unmarked. He rolled up his other sleeve and felt his stomach and legs. He couldn¡¯t find any sign of injury. He closed his eyes and shuddered again. Then his eyes snapped open as he remembered struggling with Tythos.


    Lance pushed himself to his feet, wincing with the pain in his chest and back.


    ¡°I am going to kill him,¡± Lance said.


    Peony stopped what he was doing and looked up.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill him!¡± Lance shouted.


    He looked at Peony.


    ¡°Where is everyone?¡±


    ¡°Oh, umm¡­¡± Peony blinked and looked around the room. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Tythos went after the soldiers, who ran away. Sigrun stormed out. Bird went to have a look around, and I thought Regina was still here.¡± He looked around again, like she might appear. He shrugged and smiled. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    Peony went back to drawing on a piece of wood. Lance looked at it. It didn¡¯t look like any writing lance knew. He looked around the room again.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°Where are my boots?¡±


    Peony looked up and blinked at him. He looked down at Lance¡¯s feet, as if expecting them to be there.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know where they are?¡± Peony asked, then returned to drawing.


    ¡°Stop what you are doing and focus on me,¡± Lance said. ¡°I want you to tell me what happened, from when I was standing in that corner,¡± Lance pointed, but didn¡¯t look. ¡°All the way up until right now. Be very careful not to leave anything out.¡±


    ¡°So you can figure out where your boots are?¡± Peony had a bright, helpful look on his face.


    Lance reached for his sword, then closed his eyes and counted to five. He¡¯d killed men for this kind of insult. Only he was under orders not to reveal his station, and also to keep the thaumaturge alive, if possible. He released the sword and opened his eyes. He couldn¡¯t tell if the kid was faking it, or really this socially inept. He suspected the latter.


    ¡°Tell me what happened!¡± Lance shouted.


    Peony shrank back, but launched the tale. He told the story in a rambling run-on manner: Lance disappeared; Sigrun agreed to help Tythos to get Lance back; Lance reappeared; Bird left; Tythos began teaching him about sigils; Sigrun wanted to try negotiation; Sigrun left; Tythos¡¯s hand came back, but it was weird; the soldiers escaped,


    ¡°Oh yeah, you woke up and Tythos tripped on you, then you guys fought and he reached into your chest¡ª Regina said you were dead¡ª then Tythos hit you until you started breathing again and then he left.¡±


    Lance blinked, absorbing all this. He had questions, but didn¡¯t want to sit through any more of Peony¡¯s explanations.


    ¡°Go get my saddlebags off of my horse,¡± Lance said.


    Peony glanced down at what he was doing, then looked back at Lance,


    ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be practicing. Can¡¯t you get them?¡±


    Lance glowered at Peony. The kid believed he outranked him.


    ¡°You still have your boots,¡± Lance said. ¡°I need my extra pair.¡± He looked down at his feet for emphasis.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Peony blinked at Lance¡¯s feet. ¡°Oh yeah! I forgot, it snowed!¡± He got up and streched. ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll help you out.¡± He smiled at lance and walked out the front door. He didn¡¯t shut it behind himself.


    Lance shook his head, then looked down at what the kid was doing. He¡¯d heard of sigils. If possible, one of the things he was supposed to do was find out what he could about them. The little charcoal doodle on the piece of wood didn¡¯t make any sense to him.


    Lance sat down by the fire and tried to think if he could get away with killing Tythos. He rubbed at his chest. He was pretty sure he had a cracked rib. He could dispose of Tythos and pass the blame onto Sigrun, but that wouldn¡¯t matter. He had been threatened with loss of status if he failed to deliver Tythos and Sigrun to Ginnung Gap.


    Lance made a sour face. He was well enough connected. He thought he could call in some favors and avoid a loss of status. He was going to kill that old, barbaric, bearded, classless brute.


    ¡°Lance!¡± Peony burst in through the door that was still hanging open. ¡°Sigrun¡¯s horse is gone!¡±


    ¡°Show me,¡± Lance said, standing up.


    Peony disappeared back the way he¡¯d come. Lance walked to the door and shouted after Peony,


    ¡°What about my boots?¡±


    ***


    The snow had stopped falling. The world had settled into the sharp clarity a fresh snowfall brought. The night was bright enough for Bird, and he¡¯d gotten on top of one of the bluffs before the moonrise. From atop the bluff he¡¯d got a good look at the valley. There was a lot more movement than he expected.


    Bird counted three units of soldiers moving in the valley. They appeared to be going door to door, which alarmed him at first, but he¡¯d seen movement in the houses after they left. These soldiers weren¡¯t killing everyone in the farms they visited. His next guess was they were looking for someone.


    Bird was about to head back and roust the party, to stay ahead of the soldiers, when he saw Sigrun leave the log house.


    ¡°What the hell?¡±


    He watched as she went to the stable, then came riding out a minute later. She rode down the lane, then turned down the road and kept going. Bird kept one eye on her and the progress of the soldiers. He was pretty sure he¡¯d have to go get her, so he wanted to watch where she went.


    In an almost comical set of circumstances, from Bird¡¯s vantage point, Sigrun and one of the units of soldiers passed right by each other. She keep losing track of the road and was guiding her horse on the other side of the trees as the soldiers turned down another farm lane.


    Bird shook his head. Some people were lucky and didn¡¯t know it. Movement caught his eye back at the farm. Two men exited and took off in different directions. It was the two soldiers Tythos had dragged in.


    ¡°That can¡¯t be good.¡±


    Bird was watching where they were going, when Tythos exited. He stood for a second, looking at the trails in front of him and picked one. He began making his way along Bird¡¯s back trail. Bird sighed,


    ¡°You trying to find me, or just so bad you can¡¯t tell the difference between running and walking footprints in the snow?¡±


    Bird pursed his lips. This group of people had him muttering and talking to himself. He rolled his neck and looked at Sigrun¡¯s progress. She was making good time, wherever she was going.


    Bird was getting ready to head down, when another person exited. He stopped and watched for another minute. This person didn¡¯t move like anyone in the party. He watched for a long minute before concluding this had to be Regina.


    ¡°What are you playing at?¡±


    Bird shook his head. He didn¡¯t know how he was going to gather everyone. Movement overhead caught his eye. He held very still watching the sky.


    ¡°Oh no,¡± he whispered. ¡°There wasn¡¯t that much blood. Couldn¡¯t have been.¡±


    He strained his eyes, trying to pick out darker shapes against the stars. The trees were getting in the way. He checked back with the valley again. One of the units of soldiers were going to beat him to the farmhouse no matter what he did. It looked like Tythos was going to catch up with him soon. The man ran like a wolf. He set a pace and just kept going.


    Bird looked back at the sky. He didn¡¯t see anything. No movement.


    ¡°Come on, let me be wrong this time. I really don¡¯t want to be right.¡±


    He looked back down at the valley. He¡¯d lost track of Gina. He scanned back and forth, but didn¡¯t see any sign of her.


    ¡°That¡¯s a neat trick.¡±


    Bird looked to the sky again. He needed to climb a tree to get a clear view, but he didn¡¯t dare. He didn¡¯t see anything. Maybe he had imagined it.


    ¡°Please let me have imagined it,¡± Bird closed his eyes for a moment and prayed, ¡°Please, please, please¡­ just let me be wrong. Let the snow and blood not have woken one. Let them be asleep. And if one¡¯s awake, let it move on. Surely there wasn¡¯t that much blood in the valley.¡±


    The soldiers were walking down the lane toward the farmhouse. Someone exited the farmhouse and went to the stables. Looked like Peony.


    ¡°He making a run for it?¡±


    Peony ran back to the house, stood for a moment, then ran back to the stables. Bird didn¡¯t know what he was doing. The soldiers split up, two headed for the stables, five headed for the main house.


    ¡°Who¡¯s in there? Lance?¡±


    Bird shook his head. He checked the sky, but still saw nothing.


    ¡°That should be fine. Those two wouldn¡¯t kill anyone¡­¡±


    ***

 Chapter 16, Winter Dragon

    Chapter 16


    Lance was standing in the doorway to the farmhouse, in his socks, when he spotted the soldiers marching up the road. He grimaced, remembering the mess Tythos had made on the porch. He stuck his head out and looked to see how bad it was. Someone had moved the body. The sword was still stuck into the log wall, and if anything, there was more blood than there had been before.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Lance said to himself, ¡°That¡¯s no less incriminating than when the body was there. What¡¯d you do, wring it out like a rag before dragging it off?¡±


    Lance looked over at the stable, but Peony still had not reappeared with his saddlebags.


    ¡°I hate being found at the scene of a crime in my socks.¡±


    Lance stepped back inside and loosened his rapier in its scabbard. He was still mad, and killing someone would feel good, but killing soldiers was messy. Even the ones who were no better than dressed up commons would require an accounting. They were, after all, still king¡¯s men.


    Lance had to give an account and report for every king¡¯s man he killed personally. If he killed commons, how many and where would suffice. If he knew of a killing of king¡¯s men, he was to record and report his observations. The people Lance reported to, frightened him. They could make even a noble, like him, disappear, and both ensure he was never found, and that he did not die until they were ready for him to. Lance shuddered. After his recent experience, he avoided looking at the corner, thinking about what the shadow men could do to people was putting him in a bad state of mind. He would rather jump back in that impossible lake than find out if the rumors he heard were true.


    He heard the soldiers pause as they made their way across the porch. They began muttering as they took in the graphic scene there. A sharp word from their commander silenced them. Five soldiers entered the room, two already had drawn swords, one had a crossbow leveled. The fifth was the commander, who stepped in and took a long look around. He looked Lance up and down before addressing him,


    ¡°My name is commander Longmire, Thrd¡¯Citt. I¡¯m here looking for some king¡¯s men out of Pallbrook that went missing. I¡¯m also looking for a unit under commander Wellbourn Thrd¡¯Citt.¡± The sharp eyed man glanced down at Lance¡¯s besocked feet, then back at his face. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t know anything you¡¯d like to volunteer, would you?¡± He smiled in an unfriendly way.


    Lance wanted to groan. The man in front of him was a citizen and was letting him know he was. Anyone suspicious of something political going on, did well to declare themselves a citizen, if they were one. Impersonating a citizen would get a soldier demoted and a common killed. Killing a citizen required an accounting, no matter your station, and the man in front of him knew it.


    Lance technically outranked even the local statesman, the self titled ¡°lord¡± Endelmyer. He could, by rights, take command of any local field unit and give them orders. However, the order Lance was involved with hadn¡¯t become known as ¡°the Shadow Hand¡± for their open maneuvering. It was more than Lance¡¯s life was worth to reveal his true name, rank and station. For any interaction that didn¡¯t involve leaving no witnesses, the man in front of him outranked Lance. He was merely a fourth class citizen and member of Sigrun¡¯s unit.


    Lance stiffened, snapping a salute, ¡°Lineman Devereux, Frth¡¯Citt reporting. I¡¯m part of commander Wellbourn¡¯s unit.¡±


    Commander Longmire had sharp features on a wide set face. He spoke with a rolling, easy tone¡ª a sharp contrast to the bright intensity of his eyes.


    ¡°Why are you out of uniform, lineman Devereux?¡±


    ¡®So the more intelligent will have a clue about my actual station and leave me be, you artless, weather-bitten clot-pile,¡¯ Lance thought. He took a deep breath then answered,


    ¡°Commander Wellbourn ordered me out of uniform after I fell in the river.¡±


    ¡°How careless of you. And where is your commander, lineman Devereux?¡±


    ¡®None of your concern, you pugnacious whoreson,¡¯ Lance thought. He counted to two, then answered,


    ¡°Commander Wellbourn departed with most of the unit to investigate suspected dissenter activity.¡±


    Something from the doorway caught Lance¡¯s attention. There was a pair of eyes, low to the ground, staring at him. Human eyes. It looked like they were trying to catch his eye. Lance glanced at the man talking to him then back. The eyes were gone. He completely missed what commander Longmire said. He looked back at the man expectantly, hoping he would continue talking. He did not. Instead, his unpleasant smile widened, emphasizing the wideness of his face.


    ¡°Nothing to say, lineman Devereux?¡±


    ¡®Anything I had to say would be lost on the likes of you, you lack-witted scullery-whelp,¡¯ Lance thought. Maybe it wouldn¡¯t be too much trouble to do the paperwork for killing this man. He counted to five before answering,


    ¡°Sorry Commander, please repeat the question. I must still have water in my ears.¡±


    The pair of eyes re-appeared. Whatever this curiosity was, it had the worst timing. Commander Longmire caught Lance¡¯s glance, and turned to look. The eyes were gone again. Lance had managed to miss what the man had said once more. He tried to replay it in his mind and caught the words, ¡°mess¡± and ¡°outside¡±. Lance wanted to roll his eyes, his repeated glances at the porch and hesitation made him look guilty.


    ¡°When we sought shelter here,¡± Lance said, ¡°We discovered evidence of dissenter activity.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­¡± Commander Longmire paused and looked back at the porch. ¡°And if I were to use the mind of truth, would I find that you had discovered that evidence outside?¡±


    ¡®Mind of truth indeed, you puffed up, self-appointed cod-piece,¡¯ Lance thought.


    Mind of truth, a misnomer that cropped up amongst the ignorant, referred to ¡®truth dowsing¡¯ used by the king¡¯s shadow. This was a technique Lance was familiar with, where magic could be used to view a day or so of memories from a mind. It had a nasty habit of damaging the minds it was used on. The broken lack-wits this produced were left as reminder. One to be forthcoming and truthful with the king¡¯s shadow. Lance could tell at a glance the man in front of him was no more magical than a toad.


    Lance decided to make one more attempt to salvage the situation. If the two soldiers who weren¡¯t here were pressuring Peony, there was about to be a fire in the stable. Lance really wanted to get his horse and saddlebags out before there was a fire in the stable.


    ¡°Please¡­ no,¡± Lance stammered, trying to play into expectations. ¡°I mean, yes¡­ We found the porch covered with blood when we got here. I was half froze, so got left in the care of lineman Delmont.¡± Lance thought he was a pretty good actor, and sold that he believed the man in front of him could use the ¡°mind of truth.¡±


    Commander Longmire took a step toward Lance,


    ¡°It sounds to me, like you¡¯ve got a guilty conscience.¡±


    Lance opened his mouth reply, but was distracted by the eyes reappearing in the doorway. This time they appeared higher up and he could see it was a short figure wearing a dark mask. The figure held up a hand, three fingers raised, and proceeded to count down. Lance was mesmerized by this oddity. The man in front of him continued to threaten, but all lance could focus on was this dark-clad figure, and their count-down.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    The finger count reached one, and the figure drew a pair and knives and spun into the room, slashing at the soldiers. Lance stared, slack jawed, as the six people in front of him got into a tangled, bloody scrum.


    The man holding the crossbow was cut and fired the weapon into the roof. The dark figure lunged at the left hand solder, knife flashing for his throat. The soldier stepped forward and body-checked the smaller person to the floor. The other soldiers pounced and pinned the figure down, before roughly disarming them, kicking the knives away. They got in a few more kicks, to settle things down, and hauled the masked figure to their feet.


    The soldiers held the short, dark-clad figure to the wall and commander Longmire stepped over and pulled the mask off the figure¡¯s head. Lance blinked in surprise. It was Regina. She was dressed up like a contract assassin. He¡¯d had occasion to hire them several times and recognized the outfit and fighting style. Regina glared past the men holding her, at Lance.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you go on my signal?¡± She said.


    Commander Longmire hit Gina in the stomach. She doubled over, coughing. The soldiers stood her back up.


    ¡°You will be silent until asked a question,¡± Longmire said.


    He maintained the smooth rolling tone. He turned to Lance,


    ¡°Strange company you keep, lineman Devereux.¡±


    This seemed to be some sort of signal, as the swordsman not holding Gina began to advance on Lance. The crossbow-man was tugging at his pant leg, then hissed and held up his hand. It came away bloody.


    ¡°Bitch cut me!¡± The man said.


    The man holding one of Gina¡¯s arms shot him a look, ¡°That¡¯s just a scratch Pauly, she cut me too, but you don¡¯t hear me whining.¡±


    The crossbow-man opened his mouth to reply, but the commander shot both men a look and they blanched, shutting their mouths. The man with the crossbow bent over the weapon and began to reload it.


    ¡°We¡¯ll talk about this later,¡± commander Longmire said.


    He turned back to Lance,


    ¡°Lay down your weapon and¡ª¡°


    He was interrupted as the man with the crossbow lost control of the bowstring and fell forward. He began making a choking, gurgling sound, then he fell over, convulsing and foaming at the mouth.


    ¡°Poison!¡± Longmire shouted.


    He drew his sword and turned toward Gina. He drew back to cut her down.


    Lance raised his hand and uttered a low sonorous note. He jerked his hand to the side. The commander flew across the room to smash into a wall with a crunch. He stayed there a moment, stuck like a swatted bug, then fell into a lifeless heap. While everyone in the room was looking at this development, one of the soldiers holding Regina began foaming at the mouth and crumpled. She produced another knife and stuck it in the throat of the man still holding her.


    ¡°This is going to be so much paperwork,¡± Lance said, drawing his rapier and advancing on the remaining swordsman.


    ***


    Bird sat underneath a tree, focusing his senses, his eyes closed, cloak draped around him. He listened. The snowfall left the air clear and the forest quiet. It was late in the season for a snow and many of the animals had taken shelter and fallen quiet. Bird could hear little noises of animals around him. Mice and other rodents nearby, working on their tunnels under the forest litter. He tuned them out. A breeze whispered through the trees. It rushed and twisted like a pair of playful squirrels, then paused, before rushing on. Bird tuned out the wind. The forest settled under the weight of the snow. Gentle creaks and pops of the trees shifting under the white blanket. Bird tuned out the trees. He could hear men in the valley. Their noises carried. Shouts, laughter, someone crying out. Bird tuned out the human noises. The sound of footsteps and heavy breathing. Tythos moving up the bluff. Bird tuned him out. The snow emitted a soft resonance. A noise that enveloped other noises. Too high to register, but Bird felt it. It felt like a cold, gentle glow. It took more work than the others, but after a minute, Bird tuned this out too. Then he listened.


    He heard a noise, high up and far away. The sound of a god¡¯s hand sweeping over his drum¡ª Thrum¡­ Thrum¡­ Thrum. Followed by a rumbling, guttural growl; a sound he¡¯d heard from the crocodiles further south. This sound was bigger. It rolled out so deep, Bird could hear snow falling from trees in its wake. Bird counted five, tracking the sounds. It was headed this way.


    Bird let go of the focus one layer at a time. Letting go all at once would be disorienting. Letting go of this much would make him pass out. This was why he¡¯d hidden himself. Bird could become part of the forest. He left no sign and no scent once he got under the trees.His survival depended on stealth.


    Bird closed out the last layer and heard the breathing of an animal nearby. It sounded like a bear. If one of the bears had woken early in this snowfall, it could cause trouble. Bird opened his eyes. A pair of dark eyes glittered in the darkness an arm-span away. Above and behind them, a larger pair of eyes reflected moonlight with a deep luminescence. Something big, with fangs.


    Bird scrambled back, rolling out from underneath the tree and drawing his dagger. The last layer fell and his night vision adjusted to the world around him. He blinked a couple of times. Tythos sat cross legged in the snow, staring at him. He¡¯d been watching Bird. Bird looked around, but didn¡¯t see any sign of the larger creature. Not a shadow. The snow around unmarked.


    ¡°What¡¯d you find?¡± Tythos asked.


    He said it like he had a right to an answer. Bird looked at him. The man was still in thin linens, the kind a man would wear on a hot day. His toes were sticking up from his cross legged position in the snow. Tythos stretched and rubbed his feet, pulling on a pair of boots. How long had he been there?


    ¡°How¡¯d you track me?¡± Bird asked.


    He wouldn¡¯t have credited Tythos with any kind of woodsman-ship. If the man was this skilled, then he followed Bird on purpose. Bird thought he was after the soldiers.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± Tythos said. ¡°I couldn¡¯t track a cloud on a sunny day. It was this guy,¡± he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the empty air. ¡°He¡¯s better than a bloodhound.¡±


    Bird looked at the empty air and unmarked snow behind Tythos. He remembered the glimpse of the lambent eyes and sharp teeth. Tythos looked over his shoulder.


    ¡°What?¡± Tythos said to the empty air. ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡± Tythos paused, then shook his head. ¡°Your gender? No. I don¡¯t really give a fuck if you¡¯re a great black bastard or a great black bitch. I¡¯m also not asking. You can be a frog for all I care.¡±


    Bird almost opened his mouth to point out that some frogs could change their gender, then realized the conversation he was a bout to be drawn into and changed the subject.


    ¡°Dragon,¡± Bird said, his voice unsteady.


    Tythos yanked on the boots and jumped to his feet.


    ¡°How big; how far; what kind?¡±


    Bird swallowed, ¡°Big enough. Maybe quarter of an hour away and I could only hear it. What kind, is awake and hungry.¡±


    Tythos looked behind himself, ¡°See if you can get eyes on it.¡± He then tracked the progress of something up one of the fir trees.


    Bird watched closely. He didn¡¯t detect any movement. After a moment, one of the branches near the top bent and dropped its snow on the one below. Bird didn¡¯t know what the creature he¡¯d glimpsed was, and that bothered him. A concern for tomorrow. If he was alive to be concerned about it.


    ¡°We should go,¡± Bird said. ¡°If we leave now, we might be able to get far enough away. Then you and I can settle our unfinished business.¡±


    Tythos looked at him, ¡°You¡¯d walk away from the people who hired you?¡±


    Bird set his mouth in a hard line, ¡°Don¡¯t act like you can say anything about my honor. The people who hired me are as good as dead. If I had all night, I don¡¯t know I could gather them. Sigrun rode off to the bigger camp. Regina ran off somewhere, Lance and Peony will already be captured by the soldiers who descended on the farm.¡±


    Tythos nodded. There was a soft sound behind Bird and he whirled. The space behind him was empty, but his hair stood on end.


    ¡°It¡¯s a white,¡± Tythos said.


    Bird looked at him and shook his head. It felt like cold water had been dumped on his head. Dragons were a force of nature. Like a hurricane, or a tornado. There was nothing you could do, except get out of their way. The whites were the worst of them. They craved human blood and bones. They hunted men in the winters, preferring the cold. Lore handed down by the hunters said they slept after eating their fill. After the war they should all be asleep. Men should have at least ninety years before they woke.


    ¡°No,¡± Bird shook his head again. ¡°They¡¯re all asleep. That¡­ that can¡¯t be right.¡±


    Tythos glanced behind Bird, then back at him.


    ¡°It is,¡± he said.


    ¡°Then we¡¯re all dead,¡± said Bird. ¡°Nothing you can do but make your peace.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve lived through a white before,¡± said Tythos. ¡°There is one thing we can do.¡±


    Bird scoffed, ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°If we feed it enough, it¡¯ll fly off and go back to sleep.¡±


    Bird laughed, ¡°Oh yeah? You just happen to have a hundred fresh corpses and the bones of a thousand men in your back pocket? You know what a white eats. And if it can¡¯t find bones and corpses, it will make them.¡±


    Tythos grinned, it was unsettling.


    ¡°Actually, I thought I¡¯d go ask the soldiers to help me with that.¡± His grin faded and he extended a hand. ¡°I¡¯m sorry we didn¡¯t get to settle our business. Go get your party and get as far away as you can. I should be able to draw its attention long enough that you have a chance. If I¡¯m lucky, it¡¯ll eat its fill and leave before hunting the farmers.¡±


    Bird eyed him, then took the hand and shook. Tythos turned and began running. As he left, Bird thought he heard him say,


    ¡°I know it¡¯s your collection, if we live I¡¯ll get you more.¡±


    Bird shook his head, then turned and took off at a run toward the valley. Having something to do made him feel like there was hope. All he had to do was get his party away from the soldiers without anyone being killed. If Tythos began creating corpses, they might have a chance.


    ***

 Chapter 17, Deadly Magic

    Chapter 17


    Regina leaned against the wall and watched as Lance dispatched the soldier. He made it look easy. He killed the man with a couple efficient movements. He then stepped back and cleaned his sword with an annoyed air, like wiping mud spattered on nice clothes.


    She stared at Lance, wincing at a sharp pain when she drew breath. The man in front of her had done magic. He was a trained thaumaturge and a master swordsman. Those two things meant he was palace trained. The king possessed the only school that trained thaumaturges. And that was secret. Rumor was, anyone with wild magic was killed. Regina had never seen anyone with wild magic, except Tythos.


    ¡°You¡¯re part of King¡¯s Shadow then?¡± Regina said.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Lance said, ¡°My-my, but how your thick accent is much improved.¡±


    ¡°Bastardo.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t curse at me you ill-bread strumpet.¡±


    Regina laughed, which sent a flash of pain through her ribs,


    ¡°Strumpet? This is not one I¡¯ve heard.¡±


    Lance looked her up and down, ¡°Yes, typically strumpets are more frilly. You¡¯re more of a gutter-snipe.¡±


    ¡°You are full of sour grapes for someone I saved interrogation.¡±


    Lance laughed, a full bellied, round laugh, full of genuine mirth.


    ¡°Who saved whom just now?¡± He put his sword away and waggled a finger at her. ¡°I had everything under control, until you came in like a whirling dervish.¡±


    ¡°What is dervish?¡±


    ¡°A wild dancer from an extinct culture, let¡¯s stay on topic.¡±


    ¡°You brought up.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t help it you¡¯re uneducated, just save your questions until after the lecture.¡± His tone hardened, ¡°Why are you here? Do you have a contract for one of the party?¡±


    Regina saw a dangerous light in his eyes. She realized she didn¡¯t have a chance if he saw her coming. She shook her head.


    ¡°No. I¡¯ll make deal with you.¡±


    Lance raised an eyebrow, ¡°Oh? And what would that be?¡±


    ¡°Equal exchange, I keep your secret, you keep mine.¡±


    Lance smirked, ¡°Okay, give me your secret first, and I¡¯ll say if the exchange is equal.¡±


    Regina scowled, ¡°Contract came in to be shadow to Tythos Tyrannous Rex. I believed he dead. I want contract very badly, so I push hard to get. Now I¡¯ve accept job to disappear anyone who recognizes Tythos as we travel across country.¡±


    Lance considered this for a moment. Finally he nodded.


    ¡°Okay, but I catch a sniff you¡¯ve told anyone about me, I¡¯ll squash you like a bug.¡±


    Regina glanced at the blood-spray on the wall where the commander had hit. When she glanced back at Lance he was smiling.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°Like that.¡±


    ¡°You could have done this to all five?¡±


    ¡°I can do it again,¡± Lance said, his voice light, but his eyes hard.


    ¡°I don¡¯t ask for threat, only curious.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Peony is only thaumaturge I meet. And you know how he is¡ª no good to ask him question.¡±


    Lance cursed, ¡°I forgot about the kid! We need to get to the horses before he sets them on fire!¡±


    He took several steps toward the door, then looked down at his feet in disgust. He began checking the feet of the dead soldiers.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m doing this,¡± he muttered. ¡°I¡¯m gonna kill him.¡±


    ¡°Who is it you are going to kill?¡±


    ¡°That churlish, hell-hated, long-bearded bastard!¡± Lance held up a socked foot. ¡°When he did¡­ whatever he did to me, I came back without my boots!¡±


    Regina blinked at him.


    ¡°This is what has your balls in twist?¡±


    Lance made a face at her, ¡°Refrain from speaking of my anatomy. Do you have any idea how much those boots cost?¡± He looked at her for a moment. ¡°Put on some normal person clothes. If Peony sees you in that getup, everyone he meets is going to hear about it.¡±


    Lance resumed his search of the dead soldiers and Regina went to put on her gear.


    ¡°Never seen a man so love his boots,¡± she said under her breath.


    ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯ve never seen boots that were actually made to fit the feet of the man.¡±


    She glanced over at him, he was tugging a pair of good looking boots on with a look of disgust on his face. He had sharp hearing. She shook her head and quickly resumed putting on her layers.


    ¡°I want to something,¡± she said, as she worked. ¡°Why you no do that to Tythos?¡± She pointed at the ruin of the commander with her chin.


    Lance growled an answer, ¡°I tried. Gods know why, but they wouldn¡¯t cooperate when I called. It was like they were afraid of him.¡±


    ¡°They?¡±


    ¡°Never-mind, my judgment is being clouded by this shoddy footwear.¡±


    Bird burst in through the still open front door, panting and looked around the room with a horrified expression.


    ¡°You unbelievable assholes,¡± he said, looking at the bodies, then shot Lance and Regina a reprimanding look.


    Lance looked up at him, nonplussed,


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Dragon,¡± Bird said. ¡°Run!¡±


    He turned and disappeared out the door. Lance and Regina exchanged a look and sprinted after him.


    ***


    As Peony entered the stable at a run one of the horses startled. It let out a rising prolonged note. He stopped and looked at the horse.


    ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± He pointed at the horse, ¡°You¡¯re a genius! Why didn¡¯t I think of that?¡±


    He walked over to pet the horse on the nose. It let out a grumbling nicker and tried to bite his hand. Peony jerked his hand back and shrugged.


    ¡°Grumpy,¡± he waggled his finger at the animal. ¡°Even so, you¡¯re still a genius!¡±


    Peony cleared a wide space on the floor, lit a lantern and began to draw. The note the horse uttered matched one of the vocalizations of the incantation for fire. The horse had given Peony an idea.


    He used a stick to sketch the sigil in the dirt. It came out muddled and indistinct. He wiped it out and started over, drawing it bigger.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    He began vocalizing some warm ups as he drew. If his idea was going to have a chance of working, he needed to be able to sustain a single note while he drew the sigil in his mind. This should solve the timing issue. The tricky part would be holding the note without wavering. If he wasn¡¯t pitch perfect, the underlying structure fell apart.


    Peony held the lantern high, inspecting his work. He grinned. Drawing the sigil big was faster. Taking a deep breath, he picked up a piece of straw and sang the incantation. He held the last note, for what he guessed would be long enough. This note was short and he had never prolonged it before. His instructors were very rigid about incantations. Tone, timing and tempo. The faster the better. If he wanted to be a thaumaturge, he needed to cast at the speed of thought. He didn¡¯t know if the incantation would work, with the timing all stretched out in one part. He would have been punished back in the tower if he was heard mangling it like this.


    Peony formed both the piece of straw and the flame in his mind, and released the note. The bright flame Peony expected didn¡¯t appear. Deflated, lowered his hand.


    ¡°The timing must be too far off.¡±


    One of the horses blew and stamped.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, just because this timing is off, doesn¡¯t mean they all will be.¡±


    Peony held up the piece of straw, ready to try again. He blinked. A soft glow emanated from the straw, illuminating his hand.


    ¡°What¡­¡±


    He trailed off as the glow became brighter, turning orange. It continued to build, becoming a white Peony had to squint to see. The light snapped off, leaving spots in his vision. He blinked, trying to see what had become of the straw. His fingers began to scream at him. He yelped and stuck them in his mouth. He made a face and pulled them out, spitting ash onto the ground. He shook his fingers. They throbbed with the familiar pain of a burn. He snatched up another piece of straw, beginning the vocalization. What would happen if he held it longer?


    ¡°You¡¯re a skinny waif, but you got a lovely voice,¡± said a gruff voice behind him.


    Peony whirled, faltering the note he was singing. A pair of soldiers stood a couple feet away, big smiles on their faces.


    ¡°Oh, hello,¡± said Peony.


    Both men¡¯s smiles melted. One looked confused, the other angry.


    ¡°You¡¯re not a girl!¡± Said the angry one.


    ¡°Umm, no,¡± said Peony.


    He glanced back down at the piece of straw he held. He wanted to try varying more of the notes in the incantation. He¡¯d never been allowed to experiment like this before.


    ¡°You sure it¡¯s not a girl?¡± Said the confused one. ¡°You know how these commons can go scarecrow like this one.¡±


    ¡°Hey, common! Look at us when we¡¯re talking to you!¡± Said the angry one.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Peony looked up. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not a common.¡±


    The angry one stepped forward and planted a fist in Peony¡¯s gut. Peony doubled over. The explosion happening inside of him was worse than a burn.


    ¡°Shut up!¡± Said the man, standing over him. ¡°I said look at us, I didn¡¯t say speak!¡±


    Peony discovered he couldn¡¯t breathe. The soldiers were saying something else, but not being able to breath made it hard to focus on what they were saying. He felt lightheaded and put a hand on the ground to keep from tipping over. He¡¯d never been hit this hard before. The pain was fantastic. It also seemed to have locked up his insides somehow. He noticed that the straw under his nose was almost laid out in a pattern.


    ¡®Could a sigil be made out of straw?¡¯ He wondered.


    Something in his chest unlocked, which was a strange idea, and Peony gasped in a breath. When he gasped out, the straw moved.


    ¡®Hmm,¡¯ Peony thought. ¡®Using straw to make a sigil could be problematic¡­ unless¡­ the connection points of the pieces of straw could be held together with wax. Then perhaps the sigil could even be made portable.¡¯


    Peony thought about drawing on the wood with charcoal. That charcoal had been made from wood, so perhaps there was a law of similarity at play.


    ¡®Would a sigil work if drawn on wood with ink?¡¯ Peony wondered. ¡®Maybe not the best example. Some inks are made from plants. Perhaps I could draw a sigil with blood to test this out.¡¯


    Peony got to his feet, studying the straw on the floor.


    ¡®If I made a sigil out of straw,¡¯ he thought, ¡®It wouldn¡¯t really be connected to anything. What would it affect then? The air?¡¯


    Peony startled as a finger was snapped under his nose. He followed the arm and saw it was connected to a soldier.


    ¡®Oh yeah!¡¯ Peony thought. ¡®I think he¡¯s the one who hit me. Wait, he hit me! That¡¯s not right, I¡¯m a king¡¯s thaumaturge.¡¯


    ¡°Hey!¡± The soldier who¡¯d snapped said. ¡°We¡¯re talking to you! You get kicked in the head as girl?¡±


    Peony had opened his mouth to tell the soldiers he was a thaumaturge, he was simply out of uniform, when what the solder said caught up with him.


    ¡®Kicked in the head as a girl?¡¯ Peony thought. ¡®That¡¯s rather vague. How is a girl kicked, and how does it differ from anything else that can be kicked in the head? I can¡¯t possibly answer that question without knowing more about how a girl is kicked.¡¯


    Peony blinked at the man and smiled,


    ¡°Can you be more specific?¡± He said.


    The other soldier slapped the first solder on the arm, ¡°I told you he was simple.¡±


    ¡°I still say it¡¯s a she,¡± said the first.


    Peony had no idea what they were talking about. He figured they must be continuing a conversation they¡¯d already been having. His fingers ached with the burn. This reminded him. He looked down at the straw, wondering about how elongation of the last note had changed the effect. What would happen if he used it on steel?


    Peony could work with fire. He had received a lot of attention in the tower because thaumaturges attuned to fire were rare. As a thaumaturge, you couldn¡¯t control or change what you became attuned to. The fire attunement was rare enough that Peony was the only one living. The other two that had been discovered had accidentally killed themselves in training. Set themselves on fire.


    Thaumaturgy, as a practice, had only been taught for the last ten years. So everyone in the tower called it new magic. Magic had been around before the school¡ª of course¡ª but never so well documented and studied. Peony had received the notes of the previous two fire attuned, and been instructed by the same instructors.


    He was first, and rigorously, drilled in tone and pitch before he was taught about the mind structures that would allow him to use the incantations. He was then forbidden from any deviation from the three known safe incantations. They¡¯d been named by the instructors, but Peony had his own names for the three. Ignite, engulf (which Peony thought of as a bigger version of ignite) and dragon¡¯s breath. Peony had never seen a dragon, but the way fire leapt forward and washed over whatever was in its path when he used it, made him think of a dragon.


    Dragon¡¯s breath only worked if he had a fire stored, by using engulf backward. He could only store one. That reminded him, he¡¯s stored one so big that he had passed out. He should be careful with the next dragon¡¯s breath, it was bound to be bigger than ever.


    Looking at the straw at his feet, remembering the way the piece of straw had heated up, just like being placed in the heart of a fire, Peony needed to know if he could do it again. This was something completely new.


    A shove sent Peony stumbling back and he sat down hard. He blinked up at the man who¡¯d shoved him.


    ¡®The soldiers are still here,¡¯ Peony thought. ¡®Didn¡¯t I tell them I¡¯m a thaumaturge? I can¡¯t remember.¡¯


    ¡°I¡¯m a thaumaturge,¡± Peony said.


    Both men started laughing. Peony wasn¡¯t sure what was funny. That was fine. Most of the time he didn¡¯t understand what it was that other people found funny. He smiled up at the men, trying to be polite. Then he remembered they¡¯d hit him and shoved him. That was ok. They¡¯d thought he was a common. He shook his head and began to get up.


    One of the soldiers drew his sword, stepped forward and swung it. Peony saw it coming. It was moving through the air toward his head in slow motion. This was curious. Peony tried to move out of the way, only to discover he was moving in slow motion too. He realized the sword was actually moving quickly, it was only his perception that made the movement look slow. The flat of the sword made contact with Peony¡¯s head and everything sped up.


    Peony crumpled to the straw. His head was ringing. He tried to move, but his arms and legs weren¡¯t doing what he told them to. He made it to his hand and knees, and decided to stay there until things stopped spinning. This pain was also different than being burned. This one felt worse than the punch. He could still breathe though, which was nice. He watched a sting of drool escape his mouth.


    ¡®I should close my mouth,¡¯ Peony thought.


    He found that his lips were being as uncooperative as his arms and legs. So he watched the string slowly creep toward the ground.


    ¡°Did you hear what the common said?¡± Said one of the soldiers.


    ¡°Sure did, Early,¡± said the other.


    ¡°Impersonatin a citizen and speaking of magic in the same breath.¡±


    ¡°Law says we put this one down for either one of those.¡±


    ¡°Should¡¯ve aimed lower than thaumaturge.¡±


    Peony¡¯s head was jerked back


    ¡°In your next life, try picking something that isn¡¯t imaginary.¡±


    The man holding his head drew back the sword he was holding.


    ¡°Early, wait,¡± said the other man.


    ¡°What?¡± Said Early.


    ¡°I bet a copper this is a girl.¡±


    ¡°Yeah? I¡¯ll take that action.¡±


    Early drew back the sword again.


    ¡°Early?¡±


    The sword was lowered and he dropped Peony¡¯s head.


    ¡°What now?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s settle the bet before we kill em.¡±


    Early chuckled, ¡°All right, but we gotta be quick about it. You know how commander Longmire gets.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. As soon as we settle the bet¡ª and have a little fun, maybe¡ª I¡¯ll bash her pretty little head in.¡±


    ¡°You mean his pretty little head. You¡¯re about to lose money.¡±


    Peony realized these men were going to kill him. This was a new and strange thought. King¡¯s men had always been helpful and courteous. He had thought of them as protectors. Peony had some ability to move returning. He tried to get up, but he didn¡¯t have that much control yet. His head was also clearing and the ability to think was returning. He literally had the senses knocked out of him. He thought that was only an expression. He wondered what other expressions were literally true. He would never find out now.


    Peony realized he was looking at the marks of the sigil he had drawn in the dirt. Perhaps he could find out one more thing.


    Peony sang the notes of ignite, he was so practiced with this one he could do it in less than a second, and he did that now. He held the last note, drawing the sigil in his mind, reached out his hand, and touched the line in the dirt. He released the note.


    Blue light began to fill the lines in the dirt, flowing like a liquid from Peony¡¯s hand.


    ¡°It worked!¡± Peony said.


    He realized both of the soldiers were standing inside of the sigil he¡¯d drawn. They were looking down at the light beneath their feet. Feet that were scuffing the marks Peony had drawn. His hair stood on end. His skin prickled.


    Peony¡¯s eyes grew wide and he rolled away from the glowing sigil. His whole world was consumed by the brightest light he¡¯d ever seen. Something took hold of his body and made him go rigid. Then the air exploded. Peony was thrown forward into the wall and the light turned off.


    ***

 Chapter 18, Facing the Army

    Chapter 18


    Tythos ran through the forest, following the black figure of the nightmare. He didn¡¯t have a plan. He was headed for the large encampment and was going to start killing people. And with a white on the way, he had no time.


    Tythos had encountered whites before. He¡¯d fed nearly twenty-thousand men to one in an attempt to kill it. It had been one of the most tragic mistakes he¡¯d made in his lifetime. They were prepared. They¡¯d made a plan. They¡¯d set a trap and used siege weapons on it. They¡¯d used fire. The backup plan had been to lure it to a secondary location and drop several tons of rock on it. Poison, heat, steel, arrows, even Tythos¡¯s dark sword. Nothing hurt it. They tried to wear it out and trap it. None of it worked.


    The whites were a scourge that woke every one to two-hundred years and hunted men. They were rare, unless summoned. This thought caused Tythos to stumble.


    In the north, his people knew of them. Here, it had been long enough that dragons were mythical creatures.


    There were legends that went back to when men had command of magic. The kind labeled as wild. Not the gods granted magics that Tythos destroyed.


    Back then, in legend, it was possible to hurt a dragon. Many of the dragons were scavengers long ago, avoiding men and seeking the dead and the weak. When man no longer had magic, the dragons were no longer hunted. Dragons do not die. They must be killed. With age, they only grow bigger. So does their appetite. Without magic, men are at their mercy. Prey for the beast.


    The second encounter with a white, he¡¯d fed someone else¡¯s army to it. He was not proud of this either, but he¡¯d kept the thing out of a city. It was also the most decisive storke of the war.


    The creatures were attracted to death. With enough of it in the air, they became predictable. Whites were not the most cunning of dragons. They didn¡¯t need to be. They could do what they wanted with impunity. If he didn¡¯t make it to the soldier camp and kill enough people in time, the white would land at the Gladwell farm and then kill everything nearby.


    Tythos stopped inside the tree line, in sight of the camp to catch his breath. He knew he was on a suicide run, but he wanted to get amongst the soldiers before they raised the alarm. The camp had patrolling sentries. There were four of them. Even in this moon-bright night, the sentries left a gap in the patrol he was confident he could slip through.


    He stood and turned toward the nightmare.


    ¡°Still warded?¡±


    ¡°Yeees¡­. I don¡¯t think you understand how wards work.¡±


    ¡°Just checking. I suppose this is goodbye then.¡±


    The nightmare frowned, ¡°Do you know something I don¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°Did you just leave me an opening to insult you intentionally?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Tythos chuckled, ¡°You know, in your own fucked up way, you¡¯re all right.¡±


    ¡°You know, you could deepen our bond and I could go with you. Give you access to magic again too.¡±


    Tythos shook his head, ¡°Fuck no. I said you¡¯re all right, not that I want to marry you. I¡¯m going without you.¡±


    Tythos turned and began walking toward the camp. He said over his shoulder,


    ¡°If I see you on the other side, I¡¯m gonna kick your ass.¡±


    He mentally thanked whoever was in charge of luck today as he¡¯d gotten the timing right to slip the patrol. His exit would have been ruined if he had to duck back into the trees.


    The nightmare strolled up beside him. Tythos scowled at it. So much for his exit.


    ¡°I would rather not die.¡±


    Tythos kept walking.


    ¡°When you die, I¡¯ll die. In case that wasn¡¯t clear.¡±


    Tythos glanced over at the creature, ¡°You¡¯re not doing a good job of making a case for me not doing this.¡±


    ¡°Rude.¡±


    They walked together in silence for a moment.


    ¡°Our souls are already tied together. I don¡¯t understand why you won¡¯t deepen our bond. You¡¯d probably live through tonight, gain better understanding of magic, regain some of your own vitality, and have a longer life-span. You have everything to gain, and nothing to lose.¡±


    Tythos glanced over, but the usual grin was missing. The nightmare couldn¡¯t bluff to save its life. It appeared genuinely confused.


    ¡°Just because you once made a mistake that you can¡¯t undo, doesn¡¯t mean you have to embrace the mistake and let it define you, or willfully make it worse. I¡¯ll tell you why, since this is probably the last time. My mind is still my own. My thoughts and ideas are my own. My morals and honor, my own. My choices and actions, mine. None of that is worth giving up, even for power and a longer life.¡±


    The nightmare stopped walking. Tythos kept going.


    ¡°You know,¡± the Nightmare said, ¡°if it were anyone else, they would have leapt at the opportunity for power. You¡¯ve made a religion out of stubbornness. It¡¯s actually delicious.¡±


    Tythos raised a hand and flipped the creature off as he walked away.


    ***


    Tythos could feel the line of the ward as he stepped over it. It washed his awareness of the nightmare away. It was like feeling better, after being sick so long, the memory of what wellness felt like had faded. He stood still for a moment, the feeling flooding his awareness. He took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. He was surprised to see the black outline of a hand was still there. He¡¯d expected it to disappear with his awareness of the nightmare. His other hand held the bloodstained jawbone.


    His flesh hand looked like a cracked, leathery paw. It reminded him of his father¡¯s hands. He remembered wishing his hands looked like this when they were small and smooth. Before he knew what it took to forge a hand into this shape.


    Tythos looked up. One of the patrolling soldiers walked a few paces ahead of him. Tythos watched the man walk away, the night still and peaceful. He was about to break that stillness. They had come for him. It was them who had spilled blood in the valley first. They had set the terms. This night would be a night for blood, fire and death. They had brought it on themselves.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Tythos matched the steps of the man in front of him to mask the noise. The man sensed something was wrong and stopped. He turned to look as Tythos caught up to him. The downstroke of the jawbone caught him in the neck, snapping it with a crack that sounded like a dry branch. The soldier crumpled. Tythos reached down and drew the man¡¯s sword with his black hand. He held it up and looked for the next threat. The sword fell through his fingers. Tythos growled as he looked down at the almost useful hand. Annoyed, he ripped the helmet from the soldier¡¯s head. The chinstrap caught and the man¡¯s head flopped back at an unnatural angle. The man blinked at Tythos, his mouth working open and closed, no sound coming out. His eyes were pleading, desperate. Tythos looked at him as he used the chinstrap to tie the helmet onto the end of his arm. He crouched next to the dying man, looking him in the eye.


    ¡°When you get to the other side,¡± Tythos said. ¡°You can make your case against whoever ordered the deaths of the people in this valley. You¡¯ll be first in line, so you can tell the ones who follow after.¡±


    Running footsteps approached from behind. Tythos spun and used the helmet to turn the sword stroke and brought the jawbone down on the man¡¯s head. He stumbled, stunned, and Tythos stepped in and struck him again. The man collapsed this time.


    ¡°You should¡¯ve raised the alarm,¡± Tythos said.


    He stepped over the man and struck him again.


    ¡°That¡¯s two.¡±


    He needed there to be more death here than in the rest of the valley if he had a hope of drawing the white. He¡¯d left the blood behind from eleven soldiers. Then there were the Gladwell¡¯s to consider. He figured he needed sixteen bodies on the ground to be safe. Twenty would be better.


    Thunder rolled across the valley. Tythos glanced at the cloudless sky. Peony had fumbled a sigil. Probably fatal.


    ¡°Well, shit. Sorry hot-shot.¡±


    Tythos stalked into the sleeping camp, determined to get to at least twelve before they raised the alarm.


    ***


    Sigrun sat in the stiff command tent, awaiting the attention of the small man behind the big desk. He was writing with a quill, as he had been for the last fifteen minutes. She¡¯d been directed to sit, by the man, who hadn¡¯t looked up when she¡¯d entered the tent. So she sat. She was tall enough to read what he was writing, even sitting, and was making a careful study of the middle distance instead.


    Finding the camp had been easier than she expected. There were numerous fresh horse tracks in the snow and she¡¯d followed them back here. She remembered Tythos said no one in the valley owned horses, so the tracks could only belong to king¡¯s men. She¡¯d been challenged upon approach, given her name and rank, then said she had urgent news for the commander.


    The scribbling of that quill had been the only noise the man had made since Sigrun had sat. She¡¯d seen his arm held the insignia that marked him second class citizen, then looked away. People of higher rank didn¡¯t like being eyeballed. Her back still held the scars from when she¡¯d been caught staring at the prince as a girl.


    Second class Citizen was a long way from a royal. A world away. It was in fact only a rank higher than Sigrun herself held, but her rank felt like a non-reality. It¡¯d been dropped on her and everything she¡¯d wanted had been ripped away. Besides all that, she wanted the commander listen so Tythos didn¡¯t try and kill everyone. She suspected he could find a way.


    Sigrun glanced at the desk. She was trying to keep her focus on the tent wall and nothing in particular, but the desk was huge. She¡¯d done her time being assigned duties moving furniture in the palace. She was bigger and stronger than the boys in her training class and most of the servants. When entire wings of the palace had to be rearranged overnight to accommodate a party, or event, or a whim of a royal, she was always asked for. She became very familiar with the palace, and the best way to move a stout cherry-wood piece up a staircase. Sigrun was not sure she could handle half of this monstrous desk by herself. Who was handling the logistics on a desk that took eight men to move in the middle of a field command?


    ¡°You like it?¡± The man behind the desk addressed Sigrun.


    ¡°Sir,¡± Sigrun said, snapping her eyes forward.


    She mentally berated herself for looking, and for being caught looking.


    ¡°Very proper,¡± the man glanced down at a paper in front of him, ¡°Commander Wellbourn¡­ A respectful answer that could mean anything I like. You may address me as commander Paulson¡­ Tell me commander Wellbourn, why are you in my camp?¡±


    The man had an odd way of speaking. Deliberate and slow, as if taking extra care with his words. Then he¡¯d pause long enough Sigrun would think he was done speaking, before picking right back up and resuming his thought.


    ¡°Sir,¡± Sigrun said. ¡°I need to speak with the commander of this encampment. I have urgent news.¡±


    ¡°Then tell me, Third Wellbourn¡­ your news.¡±


    ¡°Respectfully, commander Paulson, I know a First will be in charge of this camp. I need to tell my news to him.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­ this is about your assignment with Tythos Tyrannous Rex, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Sigrun dropped her gaze from the distance and looked at the man in front of her. She was under strict orders not to tell anyone her mission. She had been told that no one else would know her mission. The small man in front of her seemed to be enjoying her surprise and discomfort. She wasn¡¯t sure how to respond. Was he in her chain of command? Since she¡¯d been given no orders about anyone but the commander at Ginnung Gap, she had to assume no. But he knew her mission.


    ¡°You¡¯re wondering if I have authority to give you orders¡­ I do. Let me ask you again¡­ why are you here, in my camp, instead of being with your unit? You were instructed to take charge of and escort Tythos with all haste¡­ were you not?¡±


    ¡°Sir. My exact orders were to move with all haste that secrecy would allow, and to escort Tythos to Ginnung Gap by any means necessary.¡±


    This wasn¡¯t an answer and Sigrun knew it, but she didn¡¯t trust the man sitting in front of her. Something about the way he was looking at her made her feel vulnerable; exposed.


    ¡°Where is Tythos now?¡±


    ¡°My unit has him secure and are awaiting my return.¡±


    ¡°Do they now? Then you have no reason to be in my camp¡­ I want you to return to your unit and depart this valley with Tythos at first light¡ª¡° he paused, looking behind Sigrun.


    She followed his gaze and looked over her shoulder. The tent flap opened, and a tall, steely eyed man strode in. Sigrun saw he was First commander and stood to attention. The man strode around the desk and took a seat. Sigrun blinked. The small man who had been questioning her was nowhere to be seen. She wanted to look around the room for him, but stood at attention.


    ¡°I am First commander Atticus,¡± the man said, his voice more along the lines of what Sigrun expected from a commander. ¡°And you are Sigrun Wellbourn. Don¡¯t look surprised, you¡¯re easy to pick out of a crowd. Tell me, how is it that you¡¯re standing in front of my desk, when I dispatched four units with orders to escort you out of the valley and see you on your way?¡±


    ¡°Sir. I don¡¯t know anything about your dispatch, but the reason that I¡¯m standing here is so that I can get on my way.¡±


    The man¡¯s eyebrows rose and she expected him to dress her down, but he said,


    ¡°Go on.¡±


    ¡°Sir. My orders are to¡ª¡°


    ¡°I know your orders unit commander, skip to the part that pertains to why you¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Sir. I have secured a deal with Tythos, as ordered, to agree to the terms to be set by the commander at Ginnung Gap. His cooperation is contingent upon being able to guarantee the safety of the people in this valley after our departure.¡±


    The First commander¡¯s eyebrows continued their climb up his forehead as she spoke. When she finished, they crashed down.


    ¡°No, unit commander. His cooperation is contingent upon nothing. He has no rights. He is the property of the king. You will take him to Ginnung gap, and he will do as he is told. Am I clear?¡±


    ¡°Sir.¡±


    ¡°Sec¡¯Paulson!¡±


    Sigrun heard the tent flap behind her open, and the short man she¡¯d been speaking with first, stepped up beside her.


    ¡°Sir?¡± Second commander Paulson said.


    Sigrun ached to try and figure out what was going on with this man.


    ¡°Have unit commander Wellbourn put under arrest until her unit is found and brought here, then make sure they are escorted out of the valley.¡±


    ¡°Sir.¡± Paulson said, and disappeared.


    First commander Atticus looked down at the papers on his desk, pulling out the quill and beginning to work.


    Sigrun knew she was dismissed, but she felt she had to try, at least one more time to state her case.


    ¡°Sir?¡±


    The first commander didn¡¯t look up,


    ¡°Why are you still here, unit commander?¡±


    ¡°Sir, I really don¡¯t think any of us is capable of controlling Tythos. However, I believe he will stick to his word. If you just agree to the deal on the table¡ª¡°


    ¡°Unit commander, this may surprise you to hear, but I have a mission to carry out here as well. You being here jeopardizes my mission. If you did not possess the bargaining chip that required you to be in command of this particular operation, I would relieve you of duty right here and send you, trussed up, back to the palace to receive punishment. Do I make myself clear?¡±


    Sigrun opened her mouth to say she no longer had the hand in her possession, then thought of her orders: By any means necessary.


    ¡°Sir,¡± she said, and walked out.


    Outside the tent, there were two soldiers waiting. Second Commander Paulson was standing between them, he looked up as she stepped out.


    ¡°You should have stayed with your unit,¡± he said. ¡°Take unit commander Wellbourn to holding.¡±


    Sigrun heard shouting from somewhere in the camp, it sounded urgent, but she coudln¡¯t make it out. Then a horn started to blow, short rapid blasts. Someone was sounding the alarm. The camp was under attack. The horn blowing cut off mid-blast. The whole camp was silent for a moment, then more men began shouting. The horn blasts were taken up again from another part of the camp. The armed soldiers led Sigrun away, as the camp descended into chaos.


    ***

 Chapter 19, Death Arrives

    Chapter 19


    Regina sprinted out the door and followed Lance around the corner. Halfway to the stable, she realized Bird was shouting. She stoped running to listen.


    ¡°Leave the horses!¡± Bird shouted.


    This caused Regina a moment of hesitation. Bird had burst in and said the name that was used to scare children who woudln¡¯t go to bed. The name some people only used as a curse. Dragon. In her tongue, it was called called the hungry darkness. What she believed to be superstition held by the ignorant. Monsters that stole children and cracked their bones to suck out the marrow. Except Bird had been frightened. Regina knew how to recognize fear, and his was real.


    She¡¯d come to respect this man over the last weeks of travel. Bird proved to have a quiet, capable strength that won her respect. He had kept her from danger she never knew existed, with calm, sometimes amused assurance. Bird neither downplayed, nor exaggerated dangers. He made simple statements, accompanied by simple instructions. So Regina accepted the need to run, when he said run, even though she didn¡¯t believe in dragons. But her mind stumbled over ¡°leave the horses.¡± One of those animals was worth two years pay for her, let alone the equipment and supplies it carried.


    In that moment of hesitation, Lance outpaced her and was almost to the stable.


    ¡°Lance!¡± She called.


    He stopped and looked back.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Bird says leave horses!¡±


    He scowled at her.


    ¡°I¡¯m not leaving without my boots¡ª¡°


    A blinding pillar of light consumed the building behind Lance, and an explosion threw Regina off her feet. She landed hard in the snow and lay blinking up at the sky for a moment. He ears were ringing. There was a moving cloud of orange, glowing lights high overhead. Some swirled and some seemed to be floating. It took her a second to figure out what she was looking at. The air was filled with burning detritus and embers. She sat up and looked at the stable. It was like a great fiery finger had scooped away part of the building. A good portion of the hay-loft was missing. Something landing with a thump beside her, hissing as it hit the snow. She looked up.


    ¡°Sti cazza,¡± she cursed, and rolled out of the way as a board landed where she¡¯d been sitting.


    More embers and remains of the building began raining down and Regina got up and ran, trying to get clear of the fiery hail. Something struck her hard on the shoulder, sending a lance of pain up her neck. She held her arms over her head and kept running. Things continued raining down around her. Movement caught her eye and she looked over to see one of their horses galloping away in another direction. Well, at least one had survived.


    Something landed in her hair, and she swatted at it, dislodging a smoking ember. She patted her hair to make sure it wasn¡¯t on fire, and ran on. She stumbled several times, the fresh snow disguising the landscape and making it treacherous. Reaching the edge of the field, she slid down a short, steep bank and ended up by a stream. This put her inside a small copse of trees and they provided some shelter from the still raining debris.


    Regina huddled with her head down, not wanting to be hit again. Her shoulder hurt from where she¡¯d been struck. The ringing in her ears was abating, as she began to hear the burble of the running water. She squirmed around and peeked over the edge of the bank, looking back the way she¡¯d come. Her other hurts made themselves known as she did so. The light beating the soldiers gave her, making noise. She ignored the pain and looked back at the farmhouse and stable. She didn¡¯t see any sign of Lance or Bird. The stable was on fire. It was not yet burning energetically. The upper section of the building had a crater blown out of it, flames growing from the outer edges. Had that been a lightning strike?


    Something tugged at her awareness. Where was Peony? She remembered seeing him go into the stable. She also remembered Tythos telling him something about lightning. Did Peony do this? She eyed the hole in the building. She¡¯d never seen lightning do this. In the hands of a thaumaturge however, who knew what lightning would do.


    Pieces of the building stopped raining down. Regina began to get up, but froze when she heard a noise. Her ears were still ringing. She held still, trying to figure out what she¡¯d heard. A unit of mounted soldiers burst into sight, moving down the track to the farmhouse at a trot. Regina lowered herself back to the bank, keeping out of sight. The soldiers spread out as they approached the buildings. Their commander gave an order, and three men dismounted and entered the farmhouse. There was a shout from inside, and one of the men came back out, running to the commander. They spoke for a moment, then the commander gave another order. The rest of the soldiers dismounted. The men fanned out and began to approach the stable.


    A noise caused everyone to freeze. At first, Regina thought it was a horn, a big one. It uttered a long, low, menacing note, then slowed into a rumbling growl. She¡¯d never heard a horn so loud. The massive horn atop the Newmerric wall¡ªso big it needed a stand and was permanently affixed there¡ªwas not this loud. The soldiers were looking around, and Regina thought she heard them shouting to each other. Then the noise stopped. In the silence that followed, Regina clearly heard the men asking,


    ¡°What was that noise?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°Are there enemy troops in the valley?¡±


    ¡°Is that who killed those men?¡±


    The low note came again, this time closer, the sound so intense she felt it in her chest as it surrounded her. The growl that followed was unmistakeable as the sound of a predator. Regina tried to look up without moving. This didn¡¯t work. She could only see the sky above the farmhouse and stable. In some of the stories she¡¯d heard, dragons could fly. Was this a dragon she was hearing?


    The soldiers were grouping up, looking around. The commander was shouting something and struggling with his horse. The animal was dancing to the side, on the edge of panic. The other horses looked like they couldn¡¯t decide which way to run.


    The note came again. This time Regina felt it more than she heard it, her whole body vibrating with the sound. The snow near her face danced, the loose powder on top forming strange patterns as they vibrated and sifted together. Regina put her hands over her ears, but this did little to keep the sound out. Snow fell from the trees all around and above her and she was half-buried, but didn¡¯t dare move. As the note rolled into a growl, the commander¡¯s horse reared, throwing him, and bolted. This broke the spell the other animals were under and they bolted too. A group of three horses running down the lane together, back the way the soldiers had come.


    A snowy white form swooped down through the air. Regina thought at first she¡¯d caught a glimpse of an owl, then it crashed down on the trio of running horses. Regina felt the thump through the ground as it landed, outstretched talons each taking a horse, before crushing them to the ground with a sickening crunch. It was a great four legged creature, armored in white scales, leathery wings spread to either side, their span each bigger than the creature¡¯s body. The remaining horse ran past the creature, but was caught by the long sinewy tail of the beast. It whipped to the side and sent the horse flying. It landed in a heap with a loud snap. The horse tried to rise, but fell, screaming.


    The creature folded its wings and stalked over to where the horse it had hit lay. Its movement reminded Regina of a cat, though it had a long heavily muscled neck like a horse. The head of the beast was boxy and elongated, much like a turtle¡¯s head. Its mouth was filled with pointed, jagged teeth. Upon reaching the fallen horse, the head dipped and jaws clamped down. It lifted the horse in the air and shook it like a dog with a rat. The screaming horse fell silent and hung limp from the mouth of the creature. It let the animal fall from its mouth and turned back toward the farmhouse, its jaw cracked, ribbons of flesh hanging from its teeth. A reptile grin beneath cat eyes. Its neck swelled and it again uttered the low trumpeting note. Even with her hands over her ears, the sound made Regina dizzy. She shut her eyes, trying to squeeze out the sound. It pounded into her head, seeming to come from everywhere, making her bones ache. The note rolled into a growl, the noise sounding bigger now that the animal was close.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Regina opened her eyes, squinting through tears and watched as the dragon lunged toward the farm. A cluster of soldiers still stood grouped together. It pounced, head lashing down and snapping at them. It came up with the lower half of a man sticking out of its mouth, legs kicking. The beast shook the man until he flew apart. Blood and viscera dripping from its teeth, the dragon tilted back its head and swallowed the upper half of the man like a lizard. It took the monster several tries to swallow the man, which emboldened one of the soldiers who had been standing in the group. He ran forward with a cry and struck at the beast¡¯s chest with his sword. Regina could hear it across the field. The sword rang as if he hit stone. One of his strokes actually struck sparks off of the scales. The dragon finished swallowing and looked down at the man swinging the sword. It stepped on him. Like a cat trapping a mouse, it pinned the man with a clawed foot. It then lashed out with its head again and caught up another of the men. The remaining soldiers broke and ran, which seemed to entice the dragon to chase. It dropped the man in its jaws and leapt after them, pouncing on another one.


    Regina knew she should run. Slip away and get as far away as she could, but she was rooted to the spot. She¡¯d never seen men hunted like mice before. It made her feel small and scared. She found she couldn¡¯t move, and she hunched lower, unable to look away.


    ***


    ¡°That¡¯s twelve,¡± Tythos muttered.


    His improvised jawbone club was stuck in the skull of the soldier he was standing over. He worked it back and forth, trying to free it. Things were not going as well as he had hoped¡­


    The first tent he¡¯d entered had too many men in it. Tythos had expected to find sleeping soldiers. Three, maybe four in a tent this size. Instead, he¡¯d found eight men, all bearded, wearing simple clothes like him. They were all awake, and stared at him as he stepped in.


    ¡°Uhh¡­ You¡¯re not who I expected to find here,¡± Tythos said.


    Eight pairs of eyes blinked at him in the gloom. There was not room in the tent for all eight men to lay down and most were sitting up. A man near the front stood. He was of a height with Tythos, but smaller. His clothes hung off him, draped from bony shoulders and hips. There was a quickness to his movements that said the man wasn¡¯t currently starving, but he looked like he¡¯d done plenty of it in the past. He looked Tythos in the eye, challenging.


    ¡°You can¡¯t be assigned here,¡± the man said.


    He had a strange accent. Something Tythos was unfamiliar with.


    ¡°As you can see,¡± the man continued, gesturing behind himself. ¡°This tent is full. You must be new. What¡¯s your number? Tell me and I¡¯ll help you figure out where to go.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯ve got the wrong idea. What¡¯s your name?¡± Tythos asked.


    The man stiffened and stuck his chin out. Looking down his nose at Tythos, he said,


    ¡°My number is thirteen. And you will address me as such. As I am the lowest number present, you will answer to me when your master is not around. Now, what is your number?¡±


    ¡°Well, goddamn. Thirteen is it? While I would love to ask you questions and play along¡ªtry to figure out what¡¯s going on here¡ªbut I¡¯m in a hurry. I need to find where the soldiers are sleeping and kill a bunch of them in time to draw a dragon here before it lands in the valley and kills a bunch of people who really don¡¯t deserve it. If you¡¯re in charge of these men, I recommend you gather as many as you can, and run. I¡¯ll cause a distraction that might let you get away. Just point me in the direction of the soldiers and wait until the screaming starts before you make your move.¡±


    The man blinked then shook his head at Tythos, holding up his hand with a look of annoyance.


    ¡°Have they knocked what little wits you had from you?¡± He raised an eyebrow. ¡°Neck as thick as yours, you can¡¯t have started with many. I heard the word ¡®run,¡¯ in there, and that¡¯s very dangerous. If a master heard you speaking this way, you would be hung out to starve as an example. Now, try very hard to remember your number, and I¡¯ll get you settled before you¡¯re found out of place and punished.¡±


    ¡°Wow. Okay, I¡¯m gonna let the thick neck thing pass. Sounds like you¡¯ve got a lot going on and you seem like an alright guy, thirteen. I¡¯m gonna go kill a bunch of people now. There¡¯ll be blood, death and screaming. Probably fire. I recommend you run away, or you¡¯re going to get eaten by the bottomless pit of malicious violence that¡¯s going to show up here soon.¡±


    Thirteen wore a pitying look on his face, and Tythos turned away before the man could make him angry. He bumped straight into a soldier, who¡¯d walked up without Tythos noticing. The man stumbled back a step, knocked off balance. He looked surprised at first, people usually were when they discovered how solid Tythos was. Then he took in the simple linens and beard Tythos wore. His face creased with anger.


    ¡°Watch it comb!¡± He said, then his eyes fell on the helmet Tythos had strapped to the end of his arm. ¡°What are you doing with that?¡± He stepped forward and reached for it.


    Tythos hit the man in the gut with the helmet. The soldier doubled over.


    ¡°Let me show you,¡± Tythos said, and brought the helmet down on the back of the soldier¡¯s head.


    The man collapsed to the ground and Tythos stamped hard on the man¡¯s neck. He was rewarded with a loud crack, and the man spasmed, then went still.


    ¡°That¡¯s three,¡± Tythos said.


    ¡°At arms!¡± A voice yelled behind him.


    Tythos spun, to see Thirteen was shouting. He planted the helmet in this man¡¯s gut, and all his breath left him with a whoosh. He fell over, his mouth working open and closed as he tried to draw in breath.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do that,¡± Tythos said.


    He looked at the seven men huddled in the tent behind the now prone Thirteen.


    ¡°Think of me as number one,¡± Tythos addressed the other seven. ¡°I want all of you to sneak out of this camp, go into the valley and find a man named Sagget. If you live, he¡¯ll help you. Now GO!¡±


    The men scattered. Clawing their way out the back of the tent, causing it to collapse in their haste. They ran in all directions, every one of them yelling,


    ¡°At arms! Attack! At arms!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me,¡± Tythos said.


    He picked a direction and ran into the camp, screaming the same thing as the other seven to blend in.


    ***


    Tythos finally freed the jawbone by kicking the soldier¡¯s head off of it. After getting away from the spot where the men had been shouting, Tythos had moved toward the perimeter, and begun catching men who were running alone. The cry of ¡®at arms,¡¯ was causing confusing throughout the camp. A pair of soldiers had begun to blow a trumpet before he¡¯d managed to silence them. Now the trumpet was sounding in another place across the camp.


    Tythos ran forward and dodged past a tent. A bearded man ran past him on the other side, going in the other direction. He wasn¡¯t one of the eight Tythos had first encounted. He didn¡¯t give Tythos a second glance, intent on whatever he was doing. Tythos slowed to a stop and looked at the retreating form of the man who¡¯d run past. There were too many common status men in this camp.


    ¡°What are you doing with all these people?¡± Tythos muttered.


    ¡°You there, comb, come here.¡± A voice commanded.


    Tythos looked up and saw a soldier in a state of undress peeking out of a tent with a look of impatience on his face. Tythos shrugged and walked over to the man.


    ¡°Run to dispatch and return with news and formation orders,¡± the soldier said.


    Tythos shook his head and stared at the man for a moment, waiting for him to recognize the threat standing in front of him. The man looked past Tythos, at the noise and chaos of the camp beyond him. He spoke again, without looking at him,


    ¡°Well? What are you waiting for?¡±


    ¡°Good question. Looks like it¡¯s something that isn¡¯t gonna show up. You only see a beard when you look at me, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± The man¡¯s eyes slid to Tythos¡¯s face, long enough to glower, then slid back to the distance. ¡°After you return from dispatch, report yourself for a flogging.¡±


    Tythos struck him and the man fell back into the tent with a grunt. He stepped into the tent after him. The inside was lit by a lantern and Tythos saw there was a woman sitting up in a cot. The soldier lunged for the table the lantern was on, snatching up a knife. Tythos stepped in, and the man swung the knife. He slapped it aside with the helmet and brought the jawbone down on the man¡¯s neck. Something cracked and the man went halfway to his knees, then lunged at Tythos, wrapping his arms around him, trying to bear him to the ground. He didn¡¯t have the mass to accomplish this, and Tythos brought the helmet down on the man¡¯s unprotected head, once, twice, and the man crumpled. Tythos crushed the man¡¯s throat with a stamp of his foot, then stepped back. The fallen soldier began to drum his feet on the ground, clawing at his ruined throat. Fighting for breath that would never come.


    ¡°You¡¯re stabbed,¡± the woman sitting up in the cot said. She was pointing at Tythos.


    He twisted to try and get a look, and saw she was right. The man had managed to stick the knife in him. Looked like he¡¯d been aiming for his kidney, but the knife had gone in too high.


    Tythos looked back at the woman. Her hair was long, falling down almost to the bed she sat on, marking her as common. She was in the same state of undress the soldier had been, and looked neither concerned with this, nor with the man strangling on his own crushed throat. She looked young to Tythos. Too young to be taking death and violence in stride.


    ¡°This is fucking bullshit,¡± Tythos said. ¡°There should have only been soldiers in this goddamn camp. Why can¡¯t it ever be straightforward?¡±


    He twisted and pulled the knife out, dropping it, probing the spot as best he could. It wasn¡¯t bleeding very much and felt like it hadn¡¯t struck more than meat. It burned with a familiar pain. Tythos looked at the girl again,


    ¡°You want to live?¡± He asked.


    She gave him a look he couldn¡¯t read. Something like sadness, or¡­ pity?


    ¡°Get dressed, get your ass to the valley, bang on the door of the first house you see with smoke coming from the chimney. Tell them Tythos sent you and they won¡¯t let you freeze. If you run, you might get out in time.¡±


    The soldier stopped drumming his heels on the ground and his wide eyes fixed on something far away, then dimmed. The girl stared down at the soldier impassively. She looked up when the light left his eyes.


    ¡°Take me with you?¡± She said.


    Tythos shook his head.


    ¡°Where I¡¯m going, there¡¯s only death.¡±


    He turned and walked out of the tent. His whole side and part of his back hurt. He had to keep moving or his muscles would stiffen up from the puncture. He jogged forward to find another soldier to kill.


    ¡°What the hell is going on in this camp?¡±


    ***

 Chapter 20, Hunters by Moonlight

    Chapter 20


    Lance woke to someone blowing a horn. His head hurt and he was having trouble moving. It felt like something was holding him down. His face was wet. Lance tried shifting, and was rewarded with a stabbing pain in his face and shoulder. His face was pressed into something, he tried to pull away, but the pressure kept him in place. He was cold. Lance blew out and tasted water. It was snow, on its way to becoming ice, that he was pressed into. Several people were shouting nearby. Lance listened, trying to figure out where he was.


    ¡°What was that noise?¡± said a man


    ¡°I never heard anything like it,¡± said another.


    ¡°Sounded like a horn to me,¡± said a third.


    ¡°Cut the chatter!¡± said a fourth voice. This sounded like a unit commander.


    Lance felt relief. If he was hearing soldiers, then he wasn¡¯t in the hands of the shadow men. The horn came again, this time shaking the ground and causing whatever had him pinned to shift. With a grunt of effort, Lance managed to move his head so his face was no longer pressed into the snow. This caused his head to start throbbing in a disorienting way. Lance lay still, waiting for it to pass.


    The sound shaking the ground rolled into a growl. Lance felt his senses sharpen as he remembered Bird¡¯s warning: Dragon. Then he remembered the building had exploded. That would explain what was on top of him. He remembered being hit by something.


    That growl must be the dragon. Lance couldn¡¯t tell which direction it was coming from. He had never seen a dragon. He was too young. He had only heard of them or read about them. The stories had sounded exaggerated. Unkillable, calamitous beasts that could level entire cities or destroy armies. The last recorded report of a dragon was from a legion commander who reported that Tythos had sent one against his forces. Said the man controlled them. He stated this as the reason he had lost nearly everyone under his command. Lance figured this was a weak report from a man trying to play into superstitions to save his career.


    Lance turned to get a hand on the piece of building that had him pinned. He could use magic to move it. Then he thought better of it. It sounded like there was group of agitated soldiers nearby. He didn¡¯t want to get shot. He decided to wait and listen. Whatever a dragon really was, it was bound to be enough of a distraction to allow him to slip away.


    He shifted again and found he was actually able to get his legs free. The thing that had him pinned had settled so that it was no longer resting on him. One of his legs began to tingle painfully as blood flow returned to it. Lance squirmed forward until he was able to peer out of a gap between the timbers. He saw glimpses of soldiers and horses. Even with his limited view, he could see both were agitated.


    The low, horn-like blast came again, this time closer and louder. Lance still couldn¡¯t get a fix on what direction it was coming from. He had never heard a sound this loud before, except for thunder. The ground shook under the assault of noise. It rolled into a gurgling growl that seemed to be coming from everywhere. One of the horses reared and threw its rider, then bolted. The other horses followed. Lance heard their hoofbeats retreating, then there was a thump he could feel through the ground. The debris above him groaned and shifted.


    Lance tried to twist to get a look in the direction of the the noises, but his view was blocked. He heard an impact and one of the horses screamed. The sound was cut off with a crunch. Lance held very still. The trumpeting call came again, the sound too low for him to process well. It made his head swim, and the pile of timbers he was under shifted again. The low call was again followed by a growl, low and menacing. There was a series of footsteps that Lance felt more than heard. A clawed foot the size of a horse entered his field of view, obscuring a good portion of it.


    The trunk of a leg it was connected to was heavily muscled and armored in glistening white scales. One of the soldiers screamed and Lance heard a tearing sound. Another man ran forward with a battle cry, and Lance heard the sound of steel ringing on stone. The creature stepped on the man with a sickening crunch. This opened up a view of the remaining soldiers, clustered together. Lance saw a great white head come down and snap shut on one of the men, lifting him into the air. The other soldiers ran. With surprising quickness, the dragon leapt after them, shaking the ground as it landed.


    ¡®That thing¡¯s going to accidentally crush me if I stay here,¡¯ Lance thought.


    He began to squirm his way free from the wreckage. Lance saw what the tearing sound had been. The ground nearby was covered in blood and the remains of three men. One had been torn into pieces. For the second time today, the rank smell of bowels clawed its way into his nose. Lance ignored it and looked for the monster. He couldn¡¯t see it from where he lay, halfway out.


    His heart thundered as he pulled himself free and crouched by the pile of timbers. The beast was on the other side of the farmhouse. He could see its back over the roof of the structure. Someone was screaming.


    Lance looked across the field toward the tree line. Too far. He was too exposed out here. He crept toward the stable. The upper story of the building was mostly missing and on fire. Lance moved around the side of the building, putting it between himself and the dragon.


    A wild eyed soldier was pressed with his back against the wall and startled as Lance came around the corner. Lance held his fingers to his lips, trying to shush the man.


    The low note came again. For a moment it was all lance could hear. It felt like his head was ringing with it. It hurt. Lance leaned against the wall as a wave of dizziness came with the note. The building was vibrating with it. He shut his eyes and focused on breathing. The note stopped. Lance opened his eyes and squinted against the pounding in his head. The soldier was picking himself up off the ground.


    ¡°Little men,¡± said a voice. It rumbled, with the same deep resonant quality of the terrible note. ¡°I hear your heartbeats.¡±


    ¡®Is the dragon speaking?¡¯ Lance thought.


    Lance shook his head. The voice was loud and it surrounded him like the growl had. He couldn¡¯t tell which direction it was coming from. He looked at the soldier to see if he was hearing it too. The man was looking around with a look of terror on his face.


    ¡°They call out to me,¡± said the voice. ¡°Begging to be silenced.¡±


    Lance heard a crashing, ripping sound. There was a series of heavy thuds and more crashing. It sounded like the dragon was ripping the log house to pieces.


    ¡°Your deaths are so sweet,¡± said the voice. ¡°A sweet song I long to hear.¡±


    There was a pause, the night becoming still. Lance knew what he thought was happening. He thought the dragon was speaking. Nothing he had read mentioned anything about dragons being able to speak. The soldier leaned close to Lance.


    ¡°We¡¯ve,¡± the man hissed in a low whisper. ¡°Got¡­ to¡­ run.¡±


    Lance used hand sign to indicate they should get low and get quiet. The man shook his head, eyes wide, and held up a hand with three fingers.


    ¡®You¡¯ve got to be kidding,¡¯ Lance thought. ¡®What are the chances, two people in the same night would count down to bad decisions right in front of me like this?¡¯


    The soldier began to count down. Two fingers.


    Lance looked up at the starry heavens,


    ¡®Are you trying to tell me something Father Luck?¡¯ he thought.


    One finger.


    The field the soldier was about to sprint into was an open moonlit expanse. There were trees off to one side, but going that way would have an exposed sight line to the farmhouse. The same one the dragon had torn to pieces. The other direction connected to the road, but with a lane that led to the farmhouse. Same problem, and further to run to cover. Straight across the field was the furthest. However, if the dragon hunted by sight it could be the best bet.


    The soldier took off running. He chose the shortest path to cover, the one with the shortest sight line to the farmhouse. Lance began to back away, moving with care to make little noise.


    The soldier cleared the side of the building. Running across the exposed area for the trees. Lance continued backing up, listening hard for any sounds except for the crunch of the soldier¡¯s steps and the beating of his own heart. The night had taken on an uneasy quiet. It was the sound of waiting. The soldier was almost to the trees.


    ¡®Is he going to make it?¡¯ Lance wondered.


    A large shape flashed across the open and landed on the running man. Lance winced. The dragon hit the soldier with its forepaws then spread its wings, coming to a stop almost in midair. It touched down with barely any noise and folded its wings. It raised one of its paws and lance saw it had the soldier impaled on one of its talons. It had gone through his back and out his chest. The man flailed his arms; still alive. Lance continued to back up as the dragon brought the man to its mouth. It bit down and pulled. Lance stepped around the corner as the man was ripped apart with the wet sound of tearing gristle and flesh.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    ***


    Something pinged at his awareness and Tythos ducked. There was the bark of a crossbow and a bolt whistled through the air where he¡¯d been standing. Tythos rolled to the side and came up running, his body protesting. He let the pain drive him as he overtook the man who¡¯d fired the bolt.


    The soldier had his sword half-drawn as Tythos fell on him, swinging the jawbone. His strike knocked the man prone and Tythos followed him down, using the helmet at the end of his arm to club anything he could reach. After a second of struggle with flailing limbs, Tythos brought it down on the man¡¯s head with a meaty crunch. Tythos straddled the man and brought the helmet down again and again, until the figure stopped clawing at him. He sat on the twitching form, breathing hard. It was becoming harder to find stragglers as the camp organized itself.


    ¡°Sixteen,¡± Tythos muttered.


    He looked around, trying to spot another threat. The tent he had left the girl in had caught fire and spread to several of the surrounding tents. He hadn¡¯t seen if she¡¯d left the tent. He was sure it¡¯d been the girl who¡¯d set it on fire.


    Soldiers were patrolling in groups near the burning tents. A waving figure caught his eye, standing just outside the perimeter of the camp. Tythos recognized it and jogged over, keeping an eye out for more soldiers lurking with crossbows. He stepped outside the wards and awareness flooded back as he stood next to the Nightmare.


    ¡°There you are,¡± the Nightmare said.


    Tythos looked back the way he¡¯d come, watching for patrols.


    ¡°The hell do you want?¡± Tythos said. ¡°Did you do what I asked? I¡¯ve almost put down enough men to attract the white.¡±


    ¡°No, there¡¯s a problem.¡±


    ¡°Problem? What kind of problem? I need those bones on the ground.¡±


    ¡°I took a closer look at the wards¡ª¡°


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°Aaand, they¡¯re not set to keep only my senses out of this camp.¡±


    ¡°What are you trying to say?¡±


    ¡°It looks like they¡¯re set to block the senses of dragons as well.¡±


    ¡°What? I didn¡¯t know that was possible.¡±


    ¡°It looks like someone has figured it out.¡±


    Tythos cursed, studying the chaos of the camp.


    ¡°How many men would I need to kill to overwhelm their protection?¡±


    ¡°How many have you killed already?¡±


    ¡°Sixteen.¡±


    The nightmare pulled at its chin, elongating its frown.


    ¡°I still can¡¯t sense anything,¡± it said.


    ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m proud to say, my senses are sharper than even a white¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your point?¡±


    ¡°The one headed for the valley looked young, I doubt if you killed everyone in the camp it¡¯d be able to detect a thing.¡±


    ¡°Shit.¡±


    ¡°Yeees. It¡¯s going to the valley first.¡±


    ¡°Ideas?¡±


    ¡°I think I could counter-ward, using my beautiful bone collection to lay the pattern.¡±


    ¡°Would that work?¡±


    ¡°It would amplify any death here and act like a beacon for anything nearby.¡±


    ¡°Anything?¡±


    ¡°Anything attracted to death.¡±


    Tythos thought of the creatures that roamed the wild. He shook his head.


    ¡°We¡¯d doom this valley anyway. Can you tailor it to dragons?¡±


    ¡°Not quickly.¡±


    ¡°This is not a good option.¡±


    ¡°The white is probably already in the valley.¡±


    Tythos cursed again. No one in the valley would live if he didn¡¯t act quickly.


    ¡°Do it. How long do you need?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already started.¡±


    Tythos looked at the ground and saw there was a pattern of bones stretching out behind the creature, following the curve of the camp.


    ¡°Another ten minutes to complete the circle, as long as no one disturbs it before it¡¯s activated.¡±


    ¡°Finish up. I¡¯ll go catch and hold their attention.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll still need to activate it.¡±


    ¡°Worry about that when we get there.¡±


    ¡°If you just deepened our bond, we could¡ª¡°


    ¡°Out of the question. Get busy and I¡¯ll meet you to power the ward.¡±


    ¡°If you try that in your state it¡¯ll kill you¡­¡±


    ¡°I already knew I wasn¡¯t walking away from tonight. Now get to work.¡±


    Tythos stalked back into the camp.


    ***


    Sigrun had been escorted across half the camp, her escort slowed by the confusion. For some reason this camp was using commons as runners and they were darting back and forth. Though she had not seen a legion set up for a field operation, she could tell things here were not running the way they should.


    The first horn blast should have called all the linemen to arms, the unit commanders organizing them and receiving orders from the runners. Instead, there seemed to be few linemen present, many of the soldiers she saw wearing an insignia she was unfamiliar with. The mysterious rank was higher than the men who were acting as her escort, as one ordered the pair back the direction they had come. They had tried to argue they had a task, but the man had gotten in their face and they had complied. Her escorts had been afraid of the soldier who held the unfamiliar rank. So Sigrun had been escorted back across the camp to the dispatch tent.


    She was standing outside the tent, under the guard of one of her escorts, when the fire started. From where she stood, she could hear two unit commanders organizing a search. No one seemed to know how the camp was under attack. She overheard the word, ¡°wards,¡± from inside the dispatch tent several times, then runners went back the way they had come.


    Sigrun was standing in sight of the command tent as first commander Atticus emerged.


    ¡°Sec¡¯Paulson!¡± the first commander bellowed.


    He stood for a moment, waiting for the man to appear, looking ready to strangle someone. He repeated the command, but no one showed up. Anger creasing his features, and he stormed over to the dispatch tent. He stopped and looked at her for a moment. Sigrun stood at attention. He shook his head and stalked inside the tent.


    ¡°Where is Sec¡¯Paulson?¡± she heard him yell.


    Someone said something she didn¡¯t catch.


    ¡°What do you mean you don¡¯t know? Why aren¡¯t the men assembled?¡±


    Sigrun thought this was a good question. She strained to hear the answer. Someone across the camp screamed, making it so she only caught,


    ¡°¡­the warders keep sending the runners back, refusing to¡­¡±


    A voice cut across the entire camp, distant, but loud and clear.


    ¡°I am Tythos Tyrannous Rex! Tythos Black Hand, tyrant of fire and blood!¡±


    The men around her all stopped to listen. Sigrun groaned.


    ¡°I demand parley with this legion¡¯s commander or I will put every last man here to death!¡±


    Tythos stepped into view, he was a ways off, but even at the distance, Sigrun could see he was holding his black hand aloft. The men were all giving him space as he walked forward. Everyone had heard the stories of Tythos Black-Hand. They knew what that hand meant.


    As he walked closer, Sigrun could see the fresh linens he¡¯d put on were now covered in blood. First commander Atticus stepped out of the dispatch tent and looked at the approaching figure of Tythos. He turned his glare on Sigrun and asked,


    ¡°What have you done?¡±


    ***


    Lance moved inside the building as the tearing sounds continued outside the structure. The upper story of it was on fire, but Lance would rather be inside a burning building than outside at the moment. Part of the interior had collapsed and moonlight was streaming in through the crater in the roof. It was still difficult to navigate the gloom despite the moonlight. Lance felt his way forward, fearful of distrubing a bucket or tool that would betray him with noise.


    Someone ahead of him in the darkness let out a soft moan. Lance froze, holding his breath. The tearing sound outside paused. Lance could feel himself begin to sweat. A drop tickled its way down his side. The noises of tearing flesh resumed and Lance slowly let out the breath. Trying to move faster, Lance felt his way forward to find who had moaned and shut them up. He stepped on something soft. He reached down and discovered it was a body. He pulled his dagger and felt for the neck of the figure. He found long hair. This wasn¡¯t a soldier. It had to be Peony.


    Peony stirred and Lance clamped a hand over his mouth, leaning in close.


    ¡°Don¡¯t make a sound,¡± Lance hissed in his ear.


    Peony nodded, thankfully coherent, and Lance put the dagger away. He helped the kid up and stepped into a shaft of moonlight. Peony looked like he¡¯d gotten too close to a fire. His clothes were blackened in places and his hair was singed. Peony blinked at him and swayed on his feet, but stayed upright. He raised his hands and signed,


    ¡°Why quiet?¡±


    Lance was relieved to see the kid knew how to sign. He should, as a trained thaumaturge, but Lance had not seen him sign before.


    ¡°Danger close,¡± Lance signed.


    Peony¡¯s eyebrows raised, a clear question on his face. Lance had no idea how to sign, ¡®dragon,¡¯ so he leaned in and whispered the word. Peony¡¯s eyes widened, but instead of looking scared, he looked excited. Lance glowered at him and shook his head.


    ¡°It hunts,¡± Lance signed. ¡°Running bad. Noise bad.¡±


    Peony nodded, then looked around, taking in his surroundings. He looked up through the hole in the structure.


    ¡°Fire,¡± Peony signed.


    Lance nodded.


    ¡°Listen,¡± Lance signed.


    Peony cocked his head and seemed to take in the tearing sound coming from outside for the first time. The sounds stopped, replaced by a growl that shook the building. One of the burning boards fell from the roof onto the second floor with a clatter.


    ¡°Come,¡± said the dragon, turning the growl into speech. ¡°Present yourselves to me, little men, and sing the song of death.¡±


    Footsteps began to move around the building, their tread lighter than Lance expected for a creature that size. If there hadn¡¯t been snow on the ground, he doubted he would hear them over the growing sound of the fire. Peony looked at Lance with wide eyes.


    Lance thought hard, trying to figure out a way out of this situation. From what he¡¯d read, swords were useless against dragons. He didn¡¯t know what use a rapier would be against a creature the size of a building even if they weren¡¯t. They needed to distract it and get away. A burning building was a short lived hiding place.


    He glanced back at Peony to see if the kid was panicking. The opposite of panic seemed to be taking place. His eyes were alight and dancing and he had a huge grin on his face. With excited gestures he signed,


    ¡°We can fight! Kill.¡±


    Lance blinked at the skinny, half-scorched kid standing in front of him. He understood the kid was naive, but he hadn¡¯t expected manic devotion to the propaganda the tower taught.


    According to the official founding charter, the purpose for the pursuit of magic was the betterment of man. One specific line read: ¡°To combat such external malevolent forces, such as dragons, which threaten not only our way of life, but our continued existence as a species.¡±


    The young wide eyed recruits were fed this nonsense, while obedience was drilled into them. The truth of the matter was that the king¡¯s thaumaturges were for killing people. In everything Lance had read, it was an accepted truth, that dragons could not be killed, and violence against them with magic resulted in malicious reprisals. There was a truce of sorts in place, where the lands where the dragons fed were re-populated after every feeding¡ªwhich was usually once every hundred years¡ªand in turn the dragons left the cities alone. Lance only knew this because of his involvement with the king¡¯s shadow. Peony would not know the actual details, since the last feed had begun almost forty years ago, and ended with the war of fire and blood, eleven years ago. This should mean no dragons would be seen for at least sixty years. So fresh thaumaturges would not be told how to handle them, which was to under no circumstance use magic on them and to keep as far away as possible.


    The whole building shook as the dragon brushed against the outside, its rough scales scraping, as loud as an impact with stones. Part of the upper floor collapsed, sending a shower of sparks and smoking debris down through the hole. Lance jumped to the the side and shielded his eyes. He coughed as hot ash filled the air.


    The growl from the dragon came again, making Lance¡¯s chest hurt as he struggled to get control of his coughing.


    ¡°I hear you,¡± said the dragon. ¡°Come prostrate yourself before me. Worship me, and I might let you live.¡±


    ¡®This sort of shit is like being back in the palace,¡¯ Lance thought. ¡®Besides not mentioning talking, the texts also don¡¯t mention dragons playing fucking mind games with their food.¡¯


    Lance looked around for Peony, blinking smoke from his watering eyes. He had an idea, he just needed¡­ Lance looked around the stable again. Peony was gone.


    ***

 Chapter 21, Confrontations

    Chapter 21


    First Commander Titus Atticus watched as Tythos Tyrannous Rex strode toward him. The man was carrying himself like a king. Backlit by the burning tents of the camp, he walked as if the camp was his, the soldiers his to command.


    First Commander Atticus found himself standing straighter, while he watched the man approach. He had never seen Tythos in person before. The reports of a barbaric old man; of a pig farming common dwindling to obscurity on Endelmyer¡¯s northern holding had painted a misleading concept in his mind. The normal signs of age and loss of status were missing. The man wore a beard, and bloodstained simple clothes, but they somehow looked regal as the man strode forward. So much so, he had to look twice to see them. What he saw, was the reason this man was the one who was needed at Ginnung Gap.


    The treaty needed to be renegotiated. The gods wouldn¡¯t treat with just anyone, and they held the borders to both monsters and the savages. The savages who came from the darkness beneath the world, lived and breathed war. Until the tower could produce a reliable fighting thaumaturge and put one with every seventy fighting men, they posed a real threat of invasion. The only thing they respected was strength. The man approaching him had negotiated the first treaty, and now First Commander Atticus could see why.


    He stepped forward and raised his voice,


    ¡°I am First Commander Atticus. Your request of parley will be granted.¡±


    This, of course, was ridiculous. Parley was a peaceful meeting between the commander of two opposing forces, a meeting of equals. He could see however, that the bargaining chip the King¡¯s men should have held over Tythos and already been played. The man had both hands again.


    Tythos came to a stop in front of him. The man was a head shorter than he was, but as broad as a horse. First Commander Atticus was the smaller man, and felt the weight of the attention of the camp. He nodded to Tythos, then turned to the giant of a woman who had apparently already managed to screw up her first field command.


    ¡°Unit Commander Wellbourn, you will attend me.¡± He turned back to Tythos. ¡°If you¡¯ll follow me, we can hold our meeting in the command tent.¡±


    He turned and walked to the tent, aware this meeting of parley would raise the camp¡¯s opinion of him, as well as that of Tythos. He wanted to have this man dragged from his presence, tied and taken to Ginnung Gap. He wanted to have Wellbourn flogged and stripped of status for such a colossal failure. What he needed however, was to see if the deal with Tythos that Wellbourn had spoken of was real. If Tythos was not delivered to Ginnung Gap, willing to enter it and renegotiate the treaty, First Commander Atticus himself, would be facing a loss of status. He would lose everything. They would make him a common.


    ***


    ¡®I swear to the gods,¡¯ Lance thought. ¡®If that skinny idiot peeks out and holds up three fingers to begin a countdown, I¡¯m going to feed him to the dragon myself.¡¯


    The collapse had helped to spread the fire and the building was now being consumed more quickly. Lance was keeping one of his sleeves over his mouth and nose to try cut the smoke and looking for Peony. His first thought had been that he¡¯d been buried by the burning timbers and Lance used a twitch of power to shift the pile. This had sent the burning timber pile across the room, which had helped spread the fire. He hadn¡¯t found Peony and the room was now filled with smoke.


    ¡°Little man,¡± said the dragon.


    The voice cut through the roar of the flames and the snapping of the timbers. Again, it seemed to be coming from all around him. Lance looked back the way he had come, but saw only flames and smoke.


    ¡°You¡¯ve come,¡± the dragon said.


    ¡°Shit,¡± Lance said, and ran for the door he¡¯d come in through.


    He burst into the moonlit snowscape. This door faced the road leading to the farm. It was empty. Coughing, Lance walked to the corner and peeked around at the farmhouse and the yard in front of it. There was the dragon, standing in front of the building, gleaming white in the moonlight like the snow. A figure was silhouetted against the creature, walking toward it.


    ¡®I would have preferred a countdown,¡¯ Lance thought.


    Peony was approaching the dragon, standing out in the open.


    ¡°I¡¯ve come in the name of the King, monster,¡± Peony said.


    Lance goggled at the display. The skinny kid striding toward the Dragon. He looked back, down the road. He should run. Put the building between himself and that man-eater and make a break for the trees. He looked back at Peony.


    ¡°Don¡¯t use magic on it,¡± Lance said under his breath. ¡°Come on, don¡¯t use magic on it. Just eat him, you great white, foul-gorged gudgeon. I¡¯ll slip away while you crunch him.¡±


    ¡°Bow to me,¡± The dragon rumbled. ¡°Worship me and¡ª¡°


    Peony sang a series of notes and held out his hand. A violent column of flame burst forward, appearing from nowhere. The dragon was completely engulfed. Peony sang another series of notes and held a hand out toward the burning stable.


    The building Lance was next to groaned as flames rushed out from the bigger doors in a swirling vortex. They headed for Peony, then made a sudden turn right in front of him. The twisting pillar of flame swarmed forward and struck the dragon, who was still engulfed with the first torrent of flame. With the impact, the flames turned a bright blue, highlighting the dragon¡¯s torso and knocking it backward into the farmhouse.


    ¡°Holy shit,¡± Lance breathed.


    With a tearing, thundering crash, the log house finished collapsing with the dragon inside of it. The column of fire dwindled down to a trickle and went out, leaving an orange line in Lance¡¯s night vision. Lance tried to blink away the afterimage and see what had become of the dragon. The fire inside the stable had been sucked away, and gone out, taking with it the extra light it¡¯d added to the night.


    ¡°We¡¯re fucked,¡± Lance said, sprinting forward.


    Everything seemed to slow down as Lance dashed toward what was near certain death. If Peony hadn¡¯t used magic on the beast, he could have run. Now he couldn¡¯t leave without the kid.


    Using magic on a dragon was a violation of the compact between men and dragons. The compact that kept the dragons out of the cities. Yes, there was division of research in the tower devoted to learning how to kill dragons. Yes, it was the hope that with the development of magical theory that the founding charter could some day be lived up to, and man could live without fear of monsters. This was not that day. Lance was under no illusion the dragon was hurt by the fire.


    There would be a reckoning. The histories concerning the dragons were clear on one thing. Dragons delighted in punishment and vengeance. When the reprisal for this came, in whatever form it took, Lance would be blamed. Unless, that is, he could deliver the man who had violated the compact to the tower. They would then hand him over to the dragons and perhaps avert some of the crisis.


    Whether the crisis could be averted, or not, remained to be seen. What was sure, was Lance now needed to keep Peony alive, or he was a dead man. The shadow men had him on record for this mission, and would hunt him down.


    Lance reached Peony¡¯s side, and looked back down the farm lane, trying to gauge the distance. He needed to get this right. He placed a hand on the kid¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°How much do you weigh?¡± Lance asked.


    Peony was still standing with his hand outstretched, looking at the wreckage of the farmhouse with wide eyes.


    ¡°I did it!¡± Peony said, turning a huge grin on lance.


    The farmhouse burst apart, logs and debris tumbling outward as a white shape shot up into the air.


    Lance took a guess at Peony¡¯s weight. Peony¡¯s grin turned to a look of panic as he was sucked away, falling in his new downward direction. Lance turned and got a hand up in time to intercept a massive log hurtling towards him. It slapped into his palm, becoming light as a feather. Other debris from the farmhouse crashed around him as he looked up, searching for his target.


    Lance spotted a white shape high overhead, and put a hand on the log that was slowly floating to the ground beside him. Lance moved his perspective until he believed he was looking down. Like staring off the edge of a drop, he set it in his mind, allowing it to become so real, vertigo threatened to creep in. He then added the log to this new reality. Lance uttered a low, rising note, careful to hit three points.


    The log did more than fall, it fired like an arrow. What Lance had taken from it before, and more that he had saved up, he layered onto it. He¡¯d been saving for months, building up reserves of power to use on this journey. He put it all into the log now. It left his side so fast Lance couldn¡¯t track it. It burned the skin on the hand he¡¯d placed on it.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    There was a thunderous boom, as the log impacted the dragon a moment later. The dragon faltered in the air, its dive turning into a flightless tumble. The log had burst apart into a cloud, and Lance could now see fragments tumbling down with the dragon. The boom from the impact echoed through the valley, rolling off the bluffs in the still, crisp air.


    Lance realized that dragon and log flinders both were falling directly towards him. He was spent, completely out of power. He¡¯d pushed himself with what he¡¯d just done. He was beyond any possibility of being able to exert enough control to recharge a stone¡¯s worth of power. Lance turned and ran, trying to get out from under the falling objects before he was crushed.


    Lance heard a loud snap overhead and risked a look back. The dragon had halted its tumble and spread its wings. It uttered a building, rumbling growl. Lance continued running. The ground in front of him lit up, as if from the sunrise. The snow reflected a growing red light. Cursing, lance pushed with everything he had, legs churning, then the world behind him exploded.


    ***


    Tythos stood beside Sigrun, facing the first commander across an enormous desk. They were flanked by two armed soldiers. The Commander had proceeded them inside of the tent, and then taken refuge behind the desk.


    He now sat looking at them over steepled fingers. Tythos noted that the man¡¯s cheeks were glowing red as if he had just been slapped. Curious. Tythos ignored this detail, it was unimportant. His plan to stall was so far working, he had bought himself three minutes of the ten he needed. He glanced at Sigrun. She was standing at attention, rigid as a board.


    The first commander was looking back-and-forth between Tythos and Sigrun as if he didn¡¯t know who to speak with or where to start. Tythos let the commander make up his mind; every moment gained was a victory. After nearly another minute of indecision, the commander finally settled on Sigrun. His brows lowered like creeping thunderheads and he spoke with the authority of a man who knew he was speaking to an inferior,


    ¡°Unit Commander Wellbourn, explain to me how exactly we find ourselves in this situation.¡±


    Sigrun cleared her throat, ¡°Sir. My initial attempt to negotiate with Tythos¡­ went poorly.¡°


    ¡°So I gather,¡° the first commander said. ¡°Wellbourn, you were assigned to this mission for one reason. The advantage you held of the hand. You¡¯ve managed to take that advantage and piss it away into a valley full of problems! Do you have any idea how much¡ª¡°


    ¡°Hey!¡° Tythos shouted.


    The First Commander turned his glower on Tythos, and Tythos met his gaze and gave it right back. As much as he needed to buy time, he hated being talked past, as if he wasn¡¯t there.


    ¡°The problems you got right now all fall at your own feet. Sigrun here negotiated just fine, and we were on our way to Ginnung Gap¡ª so some asshole could throw me into it¡ª when the king¡¯s soldiers started killing WOMEN and CHILDREN! That was the point where your plans started to get fucked in the ass!¡±


    Tythos leaned forward over the desk, ready to go over it, when the First Commander nodded and said,


    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±


    He said it in such a reasonable tone, that Tythos lost some of his momentum and remembered he needed to stall, not pick a fight.


    ¡°That was not supposed to happen,¡± the First Commander said. ¡°And the men who did this will be punished.¡±


    Tythos snorted. He was sure this was a lie, but he¡¯d already dealt with all but two of them. They were all about to die at the talons of a dragon anyway, but he had to play his part.


    ¡°What assurance do I have, that if I head to Ginnung Gap with Sigrun, that you won¡¯t ride down and slaughter everyone as soon as I¡¯m gone?¡±


    ¡°Oh you won¡¯t be headed anywhere with Unit Commander Wellbourn, she¡¯ll be headed to the capital to be stripped of status and punished. But I give you my word as a king¡¯s man, that if you head to Ginnung Gap as agreed, no more of Seigneur Endelmyer¡¯s property will be damaged.¡±


    Tythos bristled as the people of the valley were referred to as ¡°property.¡±


    ¡°The fuck she will be,¡± Tythos said. ¡°My agreement is with Sigrun. If she¡¯s not going to Ginnung Gap, then neither am I.¡± He held up his black hand. ¡°I¡¯ll consider our arrangement completed and walk away.¡±


    Tythos stared the man down. He doubted the significance of the hand being an outline mattered. He had the bargaining chip they¡¯d intended to play. Since this man knew enough to ward against the nightmare, he likely knew that Tythos had no choice but to live up to bargains he made.


    ¡°Make a new bargain with me, then. I am authorized to offer incentives in order to ensure success. When a strategy results in failure,¡± he glanced at Sigrun. ¡°Repeating it, and expecting a different result is a fool¡¯s errand.¡±


    Tythos couldn¡¯t stand men like this. Who thought a superior position of authority automatically made them superior. The way he was looking at them across this desk, ready to end a soldier¡¯s career, who was nothing but loyal. Someone who¡¯d promised to enter Ginnung Gap in order to see duty done.


    Tythos reached down into the desk in front of him with the black hand. He could feel the texture of the wood. The pattern of it. The layers of the tree it used to be. He took hold of one of the layers where there was a natural separation and twisted. For a moment, nothing happened. Then with a loud crack, the pieces separated and the desk broke in two. Its own ponderous weight then pulled it apart, each end rolling away from the clean split in the middle, pulling apart the front panel with a ripping sound.


    First Commander Atticus jumped to his feet as the desk broke, knocking over his chair in his haste. Tythos took a step forward and stood where the desk had been, getting in the man¡¯s space and also making it harder for the guards to get to him.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t hear me the first time,¡± Tythos said, bringing the black hand up near the Commander¡¯s chest. ¡°I made my deal. I¡¯m not making any more. You wanna punish Sigrun, that¡¯s fine. She¡¯a a little self righteous and hard to endure. However, she has already successfully negotiated my taking the mission into Ginnung Gap. So, what¡¯s it gonna be, Commander?¡±


    To his credit, if the man was scared, he hid it well. He looked disappointed. For a man who¡¯d woken a dragon to destroy everything living in the valley, he held the bluff well. He looked like he was genuinely upset about not sending Sigrun to be punished, as if he he didn¡¯t intend to kill her and throw her to the dragon as soon as Tythos left.


    ¡°Fine,¡± the Commander said. He turned to Sigrun. ¡°Unit Commander Wellbourn, once you have completed the escort of this man and honored the terms of the deal you have struck, you will return to the capital to make a full report. Do I make myself clear?¡±


    ¡°Sir,¡± Sigrun said.


    ¡°Escort these two out of my camp,¡± the Commander said.


    The two soldiers stepped forward. Tythos nearly had everything he needed. He just needed to stall for a little more time. He also needed to not have an armed escort watching him leave.


    ¡°I don¡¯t trust you,¡± Tythos said. ¡°Return Sigrun¡¯s weapon to her and we¡¯ll be leaving on our own.¡±


    First Commander Atticus looking like he was about to start shouting. Then he closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his cheek with a hand, like a man lost in thought. He opened his eyes and looked down at the broken pieces of the desk. He look up and glared at Tythos like he¡¯d like to put his head on a spike. Tythos smiled at him.


    ¡°Unit Commander Wellbourn,¡± the First Commander said. ¡°Has this man agreed to accept the orders of the commander stationed at Ginnung Gap, and enter it if commanded to?¡±


    ¡°Yes Sir,¡± Sigrun replied.


    ¡°Good. Then allow me to inform you of what your future holds. You will be sent back into that hell-scape. From the reports, it¡¯s only gotten worse since you left. You¡¯re going in to renegotiate the treaty. Somehow I doubt those savages will be happy to see you again. Didn¡¯t exactly deliver on the last promise you made them, did you? As long as you¡¯re here, allow me to add my own incentive to you achieving a favorable outcome. This is not a new deal, this is a promise from me. Come back with a new treaty in hand, or I¡¯ll personally see to it that not only every common in this valley is put down, but every common north of the capital who knows your name.¡± He turned to the soldiers, ¡°Get Unit Commander Wellbourn her equipment and see that these two leave my camp!¡±


    The Commander glared at Tythos as he and Sigrun left the tent.


    ¡®That went better than I expected,¡¯ Tythos thought.


    The threat the commander had made rang strange in his ears though. Why would a man who thought they were about to be eaten by a dragon bother with a threat like that? It sounded like he really did want Tythos to go to Ginnung Gap.


    Tythos shook his head. Another mystery he wouldn¡¯t have time to solve. He was about to kill himself to activate a ward, to try and save the valley from a dragon.


    ***


    Tythos strolled through the camp beside Sigrun. He wanted to make sure he exited the camp on the safe side of ten minutes. He also did not want to appear like he was running.


    Sigrun¡¯s sword had been returned to her. The men who were guarding them in the tent still had ahold of it. Having her equipment returned to her had not bought him any extra time. It may have gotten him an armed guard, though. He leaned close to Sigrun as they walked.


    ¡°When we get out of here,¡± Tythos said. ¡°I¡¯m going to need to do a bit of magic. It is vital that I am not disturbed while I do this. I¡¯m trusting you to watch my back.¡°


    Sigrun looked at him; raised an eyebrow; shook her head.


    ¡°Magic?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, a little insurance I¡¯ve cooked up for our friends here.¡°


    ¡°Insurance of what?¡°


    ¡°Insurance of us doing what we need to do.¡°


    Sigrun studied him as they walked. She seemed unconvinced.


    ¡°That¡¯s the truth, take it or leave it, but we will fail our mission if I get interrupted while I¡¯m doing this.¡±


    Tythos expected her to argue, instead she asked,


    ¡°Why are you covered in blood?¡±


    ¡°Had to get someone¡¯s attention.¡± He said.


    ¡°Did it work?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re walking out of here, aren¡¯t we?¡±


    She walked in silence for a moment, a conflicted look on her face as she thought.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t answered any of my questions. I know, you don¡¯t lie, but you talk in circles. Give me one straight answer¡­¡± she looked at him.


    He shrugged.


    ¡°I can¡¯t make a promise before you ask.¡±


    She thought this over, then seemed to accept it.


    ¡°Why do you care so much for a few commons? Performing your duty for the king should be your primary concern, not risking your life bargaining for a handful of common people.¡°


    Tythos stopped walking. Sigrun kept going a few steps, then turned and looked back at him.


    ¡°At least you called them people. That makes you better than the First Commander we just walked away from.¡± He was silent for a moment, studying her. ¡°I do it because it¡¯s right. You¡¯ve got to help the people that are right in front of you, not the people that you might meet someday, or the people that have enough money to be important. If you don¡¯t do what you can with what¡¯s right in front of you, you¡¯ll never do anything.¡°


    ¡°But what the king wants you to do at Ginnung Gap is important. You heard First Commander Atticus. You¡¯re needed to renegotiate the treaty. If you die before accomplishing that, it could cost thousands of people their lives. This is why there¡¯s honor in duty. When we do our duty in service of those with greater vision than ourselves, that¡¯s when we do the most good with our lives.¡°


    ¡°And if their vision is wrong?¡°


    Sigrun opened her mouth, then closed it, shaking her head.


    ¡°And if yours is?¡±


    ¡°Then at least I can see who I help. I don¡¯t have to take someone¡¯s word for it. I¡¯ll die happy.¡±


    Tythos resumed walking. Sigrun fell in beside him. They walked in silence for several beats.


    ¡°Will this magic of yours hurt anyone?¡°


    ¡°No, the magic itself is harmless. It will just ensure the people in the valley get to live. You know, like you promised to help me do. Help me do this one thing, and I will consider your end of the bargain¡ªto help the people in the valley¡ª upheld. Once this is done, I will do everything in my power to go to Ginnung Gap with you.¡°


    Sigrun shook her head.


    ¡°You¡¯ve backed me into a corner where I have to agree with you. Fine, I¡¯ll help you. But your explanation sounds like another circle, where you¡¯re deliberately avoiding telling me what¡¯s going to happen.¡±


    Tythos grinned at her without any humor.


    ¡°You got your straight answer already, quit complaining.¡± He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. ¡°Gods! It feels good to be able to do that again. Now let¡¯s go see if this camp has been surrounded by the bones of all the people I¡¯ve slain.¡±


    Sigrun stopped short. Tythos kept walking.


    ¡°What?¡± She asked, jogging to catch up with him.


    ***

 Chapter 22, Fatal Blow

    Chapter 22


    Peony was falling. There was no other word for it. His senses told him he was falling, and as he looked down the farm lane, his perspective shifted. It felt like he¡¯d stepped off a cliff. He clawed at the ground, as it whipped past. He tore his hands, but it didn¡¯t slow his fall.


    It occurred to him that he should be screaming. People screamed when they fell¡­


    Peony had been sitting on one of the garden terraces set into the side of the tower. It was one of the higher terraces, extending out from near the top of the tower, suspended over the roof of the palace. There was a place in the corner, where one of the climbing vines had loosened part of the railing and caused the fat baluster to fall inward. Peony had found this, and discovered that with just a little effort, he could squeeze through and sit where the stone rail had been. The climbing vine sheltered him from view on the terrace, or in the tower, and he was too high up to otherwise be seen. When he needed to be alone, he¡¯d climb into his spot, and sit with his feet dangling over the edge, looking at his own private, bird¡¯s-eye view of the world. All of Highfall stretched out beneath him, people bustling about their lives in the city below. From here, looking like tiny bugs.


    He was sitting in his spot when Master Pembroke started speaking with someone nearby. Peony recognized the Master¡¯s voice. He felt guilty for listening to something private, but didn¡¯t dare move and be discovered.


    ¡°You¡¯re sure about this?¡± Master Pembroke said.


    ¡°Overheard it me-own-self,¡± said the other voice.


    Peony didn¡¯t recognize the second speaker. It sounded like a man, with the drawl of the city in his voice.


    ¡°Said they¡¯d found a way to close it,¡± the man continued. ¡°And they just needed someone to go through and do it. The king¡¯s quiet for a bit, then he says, ¡®I think it¡¯s time to resurrect a tyrant.¡¯ To which the mask replies, ¡®Endelmyer¡¯s going to be a problem.¡¯ Then the king says he¡¯ll just move him without anyone knowing.¡±


    ¡°When did you overhear this?¡± asked Master Pembroke.


    ¡°It was yesterday, wasn¡¯t it? Same as every time.¡±


    ¡°This is unacceptable, you should have brought this to me sooner.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t move once I¡¯m my place, can I? I¡¯m not as small as I used to be.¡±


    ¡°No, you¡¯re not,¡± said Master Pembroke.


    Peony heard sounds of a struggle, then someone appeared, leaning back over the railing. It was a gangly youth, around Peony¡¯s age. His eyes were wide and frightened. Someone was keeping him balanced on the edge with a hold on his shirtfront.


    ¡°No, please,¡± said the youth. ¡°Pull me back, pull me back.¡±


    ¡°What are you supposed to do when you hear news about the rift?¡±


    ¡°Please, they was meetin almost all night, what was I supposed to do?¡±


    The youth looked over at Peony. They locked eyes for a moment, and terror shot through Peony at the thought of being discovered eavesdropping. The youth opened his mouth to say something, but Master Pembroke chose that moment to let go. The youth fell. Whatever he was about to say, turned into a scream. It cut off when he hit the roof. His body bounced, then flopped bonelessly into a roll before tumbling off the palace wall.


    Peony surfaced from the memory like waking suddenly from a dream. He was still falling. The ¡°ground¡± was rising up to meet him too fast. He was falling towards the steep, wooded hill of the bluff, but that didn¡¯t matter at this moment. The bluff had become the palace roof, and he was about to bounce into a lifeless roll.


    Before he got to the hill, the direction of ¡°down¡± began to change, and the ground became a steep slope instead of a vertical wall. Peony began to slide across the ground, as if down a hill, which slowed the approach of the bluff. He hit the slope and went rolling downhill. He felt downhill become uphill again somewhere in the tumble. He began to slow, then a tree jumped up and hit him in the stomach.


    Peony fell to the ground, unable to move, trying to remember how to breathe. He was wracked by the most incredible pain he¡¯d ever felt, which immediately topped itself when he was finally drew in a breath. It felt like he was being stabbed in the chest with knives. Being able to breathe again was still sweet, and Peony gasped in air, despite the knives.


    A bright light caught his attention and he pushed himself into a sitting position. He was almost halfway up the bluff and had a good view of the valley. He saw a searing line of light high in the air, shining an angry red across the landscape. He squinted at it, trying to make sense of it. The line was growing, headed for the ground.


    He tracked the line upward and saw the winged form of the dragon, painted a bloody red by the light coming from its mouth. The light touched down, and for a moment it looked like the dragon was being held aloft by a glowing bar of iron. The light snapped off. Everything was thrown into darkness, and Peony blinked rapidly, trying to see anything. There was a thump¡ªthat he felt more than heard¡ªthen a blinding flash of white light bloomed on the ground. Peony shielded his eyes as he was hit by the loudest sound he¡¯d ever heard. The roar of the explosion was followed by a rolling wave of heat that knocked him flat. The world went away, leaving him floating in darkness¡­


    Peony woke and struggled back into a sitting position. He saw a giant mushroom walking across the valley. It was dark and shadowy in the moonlight. Its head seemed to be growing.


    ¡®What sort of monster is that?¡¯ Peony wondered.


    After a moment, he realized what he was looking at. It was a cloud of smoke being blown by the wind. The cloud was shaped like a mushroom. He turned his gaze to where he¡¯d seen the flash. The farm was gone. All of it. The only thing that remained was a black absence of snow. It looked like a pockmark scar on the landscape.


    He held very still, looking up into the sky for the dragon. He coudln¡¯t have been out long. He could still see the mushroom cloud.


    The dragon had been easy to spot when it was producing that red light. After a minute of searching Peony finally caught a glint of moonlight and tracked the movement. The wings of the creature didn¡¯t reflect light, he noted their outline as a shadow on the stars. The dragon was circling so high up it looked small.


    He looked back down at the devastation where he and Lance had been standing a couple moments ago. He jolted forward,


    ¡°Lance!¡± He said.


    It came out as a hoarse wheeze as the knives in his chest returned when he sat forward. He leaned back slow and careful, looking up to see where the dragon was. He spotted it more quickly this time, still circling high overhead.


    ¡°How am I supposed to fight that?¡± Peony said under his breath.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    He¡¯d grown up being told he was the solution to the dragon problem. He would bring about a new age and save thousands of lives. With his power, he¡¯d save the world one day. Peony slumped against the tree, feeling very small.


    Something crashed through the undergrowth nearby and he flinched. The sound stopped. He sat up, listening hard. Something crashed right behind him. He whipped around, gasping at the pain this caused. A board lay right behind him, one end smoking.


    ¡°What¡­¡±


    Something small and hard hit him on the foot. It bounced off and hissed into the snow. He picked it up. It was a piece of charred wood. Something hit the ground behind him. Peony looked back at the smoldering plank and realized what was happening. It was raining debris from the farm. He threw his arms over his head and curled up into a ball as more began to land around him. Fragments of various sizes plunked down or thudded, continuing this way for half a minute like a cloudburst. Then it slowed and stopped.


    The dragon uttered another long, low, menacing call. His chest stabbed with the knifing pain as the dragon trumpeted, making the trees shake. Peony clutched a hand to his chest and realized he was still holding something. He looked down at the piece of charcoal he held, then over at the plank nearby. He had an idea.


    ***


    Tythos and Sigrun stepped outside the camp and Tythos held up a hand so she didn¡¯t step on the pattern of bones lying in the snow. The pair of soldiers had kept pace with them as they exited the camp; at a distance. They now stood by the last row of tents, watching.


    The nightmare walked over and looked Sigrun up and down.


    ¡°Aww, have you made a little friend?¡± it said.


    Tythos ignored this.


    ¡°Is everything ready?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yeees, but I give it about a fifty-percent chance of working in your state. If you¡¯d just deepen our bond we could be sure¡ª¡°


    ¡°You know what I think about that. Let¡¯s get started.¡±


    Tythos knelt and placed the black hand on the bones.


    ¡°You really should step outside the circle. On the small chance you live through this, being inside the circle might have unforeseen side effects.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this,¡± Tythos growled.


    He motioned Sigrun forward.


    ¡°Step outside the circle. Don¡¯t distrurb the bones or we¡¯ll explode and die.¡±


    A sharp boom caused everyone to flinch. The sound was too abbreviated to be thunder. Tythos knew what that sound was. The dragon.


    ¡°Come on! Move, move, move!¡° Tythos shouted.


    He leapt over the line of bones and Sigrun followed. He knelt down and replaced the black hand. The nightmare sighed as he began to pull, then shrugged and began flowing into the black hand. Pain washed over him like he¡¯d caught fire. Tythos gritted his teeth and pulled harder. A roaring sound built in his ears drowning out the rest of the world. The edges of his vision began to go dark, the blackness building along with a pounding in his head. It felt like the strain was about to make his head explode. He pulled harder. His vision went dark, and he was racked with so much pain that he could no longer tell if he was upright or not. Then he felt a shift.


    Tythos had activated so many sigils that he could do it blind. Which was good, because he was. Moving his focus forward, Tythos pushed. It felt like he was pushing his own stomach up and out through his throat. He pushed anyway. He vomited. He couldn¡¯t tell if it was bile, blood or actually his stomach that came out of his mouth. He didn¡¯t worry about it, he pushed harder. The roaring sound pressed in on him, and Tythos completely lost feeling, even the pain disappearing as he plunged into blackness.


    ***


    Sigrun watched as Tythos knelt by the macabre display of human remains. She didn¡¯t know what he was doing or where these bones had come from, but it seemed to be important to him. Despite what he had said, she suspected that he was enacting some sort of revenge on the soldiers for what they had done. She felt a twinge in her gut as this suspicion pulled at her. However, her duty came first.


    Her commanding officer had made it very clear, by any means necessary. Loss of human life, acceptable. Loss of team members, acceptable. Her duty was to secure the deal with Tythos and deliver him to Ginnung Gap. So she watched as he knelt, and the pattern of human bones laid out in front of him began to glow.


    As the glow grew brighter and began to light up the night, the soldiers who were observing them cried out and drew their swords.


    ¡°Shit,¡± Sigrun muttered.


    She stepped carefully over the glowing pattern of bones, conscious that Tythos had mentioned disturbing them would result in death. She doubted he would exaggerate the danger of something. If anything, he seemed like the person who would downplay it.


    Once clear, she unlimbered her sword and stepped forward to meet the two soldiers. The men spread out, getting ready to flank her, or go around her. Sigrun saw an opportunity and leapt between them, swinging for the first man.


    With her sword in hand, her training kicked in. Sigrun had done a lot of ¡°protect the objective¡± training. She had expected to someday be guarding the king. Personal safety came second when you were guarding an objective, and she intentionally turned her back on one man to invite an attack. It was not a great risk however, she was wearing half-plate.


    The great sword she was using had a reach that startled most of her opponents. The man she swung for was no exception, and her stroke took him right above the collarbone before he could get his sword up. The man fell, and she tucked her elbows to her side as she turned, guarding her armpits.


    She caught the flash of a sword out of the corner of her eye and raised her shoulder to take it on her pauldron. She rolled through the impact and brought her sword around for a second stroke. She caught this man in the neck and separated his head from his shoulders. It went spinning behind her as she finished her turn and looked at Tythos. He was still kneeling by the glowing circle. She saw no threats around him, so she stepped over and finished the first man she had cut. Having both a height and reach advantage in a fight went along way.


    By any means necessary.


    Sigrun pushed it to the back of her mind and stepped back in front of the man she was set to protect. The glow behind her intensified, and it sounded like Tythos was violently sick. She turned to check on him and as she did the glow snapped off. A sensation passed over her like jumping into cold water. With the sudden lack of light, she was momentarily night-blind.


    A dark figure rose from the ground. At first she thought it was Tythos, silhouetted against the snow. Then the figure continue to rise, standing taller than her by a head. Not Tythos. There was a form laying prone at the tall figure¡¯s feet. Had a soldier gotten by her? She swung her sword at the tall figure. Her sword passed through, cleanly, with almost no resistance.


    ¡°Oh, so you can see me. How interesting,¡° said the figure.


    Its voice was strange, deep, yet melodic and playful. And it seemed completely unconcerned that she¡¯d just cut it in half with her sword.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked.


    She thought about this for a second, studying the figure that stood in front of her and amended,


    ¡°What are you?¡°


    She was sure she had made a clean hit with her sword, and the figure in front of her did not look like any man she had ever seen. Whatever it was, it grinned at her. Its head split, revealing a wide mouth full of white, glistening teeth.


    ¡°I¡¯m his better half,¡° it said, motioning to the prone figure at its feet. ¡°And while I would love to be less vague¡ªbelieve me¡ªI¡¯m bound by an inconvenient and borderline paranoid contract, not to answer either of those questions without permission. Honestly, you¡¯d think it¡¯d been written in the cold war by a dashing triple agent.¡±


    ¡°Speak plain creature,¡± Sigrun said.


    ¡°Creature! Well I never¡ªlook for yourself if you¡¯re going to be rude. Why do I only get to talk to barbarians?¡±


    Sigrun knelt and inspected the figure on the ground. It was Tythos. He was lying in a pool of blood, unmoving. Sigrun looked up at the dark figure, realizing this was what she¡¯d caught a glimpse of in the farmhouse.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with him?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s dying. Which is sad, because when he dies, I will too.¡±


    ¡°Dying?¡± Sigrun rolled him over. ¡°He can¡¯t die, I need him.¡°


    ¡°Yes, I sympathize. I¡¯ve been trying to keep him from dying for over sixty years now. He doesn¡¯t make it easy. It¡¯s like he¡¯s only thinking of himself. His selfishness is truly boundless.¡±


    She slapped Tythos across the face.


    ¡°I just killed king¡¯s men for you, asshole! You took my life! My dreams! You killed my city! You can¡¯t die! ¡± she slapped him again.


    Tythos¡¯s head lolled, he was completely unresponsive. Sigrun looked up at the tall black figure. She didn¡¯t understand who or what it was, but it seemed to have answers.


    ¡°What do I do? What¡¯s wrong with him? How do we help him?¡°


    The creature¡¯s face contorted into an exaggerated frown. It looked down at Sigrun, who was holding Tythos up by his shirt front.


    ¡°Well, I could help him, if you were to willingly give me something of yours.¡°


    ¡°What kind of thing?¡°


    ¡°Like your eyes for example.¡±


    ¡°My eyes?¡±


    ¡°Yes, or you voice, or maybe your right arm. Any one of those things and I might be able to save his life.¡°


    ¡°How would that help?¡±


    ¡°Principle of equal exchange. I can use the life force in what¡¯s freely given, to bolster his.¡°


    ¡°And you can¡¯t do this without me?¡°


    ¡°I could, if he had ever deepened our bond. But that doesn¡¯t help either of us right now.¡°


    Sigrun dug in the bag at her belt, and pulled out her severed finger. The one Tythos had cut off her hand this morning. She held it out to the dark figure.


    ¡°Will this help?¡°


    The creature frowned down at what she held out to it.


    ¡°It¡¯s a start.¡°


    It snatched the finger off of her hand quick as a toad catching a fly.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to need more.¡°


    Sigrun wracked her brain for what she could give up, for what would be enough to save him. For what she could live without to save her career; her honor.


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to hurry, we¡¯re about to have company.¡°


    Sigrun looked up, there were soldiers coming.


    ***

 Chapter 23, The Boy, The Dragon, and The Deal

    Chapter 23


    The night was quiet between the pine trees. It was also cold. Peony sat where he could see what he was doing by moonlight. He was glad he¡¯d practiced this several times. His hands were shaking and this was making it harder.


    Peony held up the plank and inspected his work. The lines were all where they should be. He nodded and closed his eyes, drawing it in his mind one more time to make sure. He opened his eyes. The lines matched.


    Peony stood, one hand on a tree for balance. He looked up and caught the glint of moonlight on the dragon. He had followed it. The dragon had stopped circling and flown away from the valley.


    When the dragon had flown overhead, Peony got up to follow and then fell down. His whole body was sore in a way he never knew was possible, and his legs shook so bad it took two tires to stand. Once he started moving, he stopped shaking as much, but pain had replaced unsteadiness. Once he reached the top of the hill, he rested, sure the dragon would be long gone, but he searched the sky for it anyway.


    Then he spotted it. It was circling again, this time somewhere away from the valley. He began moving in that direction, wary of getting too close while the dragon was in the air. He got as close as he dared, then sat down and began drawing. He¡¯d been glad he was carrying the plank when he was climbing the hill. He¡¯d used it as a crutch. It had kept him from falling several times.


    Peony watched for another glint of moonlight. He spotted it. The dragon was lower. He was sure of it. If it was landing, it would be safe to get close.


    ¡®Safe to get close?¡¯ Peony thought. ¡®Only if getting eaten is safer than being blown to smithereens.¡¯


    Peony chuckled, which brought the stabbing in his chest back, and his smile turned into a grimace.


    ¡°Ow,¡± he muttered. ¡°Why does it feel so sharp?¡±


    He felt at his chest, and it didn¡¯t have anything stabbing into it that he could find. It was tender and sore, like the whole thing was a black eye. He didn¡¯t take his shirt off and look. It was cold and dark. Besides, he had a dragon to kill.


    He looked up again, standing still between two of the tall pines. The smell of the trees beside him was like the freshest day at market he¡¯d ever experienced. They had a green, sharp smell that filled his head. He didn¡¯t know if it was the pain, the night, or the danger that sharpened his senses like this, but he was reveling in it. He took as deep a breath as he dared, stopping before the stabbing got too bad. He took a step to the side, feeling worried. He hadn¡¯t seen a glint. Where was the dragon?


    He heard a distant crash. He listened. Was that a tree falling? Someone screamed. He heard men yelling. It was happening ahead of him, through the trees. The dragon uttered its unmistakable guttural growl. Peony nodded.


    ¡°Found it,¡± he said.


    He began moving forward again, following the sounds of mayhem.


    ***


    Sigrun tasted blood. There was movement in front of her¡­


    The soldiers hadn¡¯t given her time to think. She¡¯d said the first thing that came to mind. She had to say something. She needed Tythos. So she¡¯d struck a bargain with the dark figure, but hadn¡¯t been prepared for the pain. It felt like she was being torn in half. It had reached inside of her¡­


    Sigrun cried out and went to one knee. Bright lights popped in her vision as she was eviscerated. It took everything she had to stay upright. If she went all the way down, she was dead. The soldiers would be on her before she could rise. As the pain scaled back from world ending to merely feeling like she¡¯d been gutted, her vision began to clear.


    One of the soldiers had closed on her and was driving his sword at her face. She raised her arm, swatting the blade up. The tip missed her eye by a finger and skidded off the side of her helmet. The man followed through and hit her with his shoulder, trying to knock her over. Sigrun rolled her shoulder forward, getting her center of gravity lower than his. He bounced off her, falling flat as she lunged to her feet.


    The other soldiers were closing, two in front with a hand on their blades, half-swording to try and get past her plate, and two going wide to swing at her flanks. Sigrun heard a sharp snap, and something pulled at her leg. She¡¯d been shot. Sigrun tried to pivot to meet the man moving to flank, but her leg only moved halfway and she stumbled. The man in front drove for her armpit before she caught her balance. His sword came up and bit into her chain as she stopped the stroke with an arm over the blade. She got her balance and pushed back as the man behind swung for her exposed flank. She couldn¡¯t disengage, he was going to open up her groin.


    The man behind her fell out of sight with a scream. This seemed to take everyone off guard as they all paused to look.


    A dark figure rose from the place where the man had fallen.


    ¡°What are you waiting for?¡± Said the creature. ¡°Kill them.¡±


    Sigrun swung her elbow forward and flattened the man who was driving for her armpit. Disentangled, she got her sword up to meet a second charge. Putting a hand on the blade, she drove the point through the eye of the man running at her. She spun, reversing her grip on the sword and smashed the man flanking her with the hilt. His stroke bit into her leg as he went down. He tried to roll away and she drove her sword into his chest.


    The two men she had knocked down were up and trying to get on opposite sides of her. Sigrun freed her sword and raised her guard.


    ¡°It¡¯s heeere,¡± said the dark figure.


    Sigrun and both soldiers looked at the dark figure.


    ¡°Oh. You can all see me now, fascinating,¡± said the figure. ¡°It¡¯s a shame you¡¯re all about to die. I would adore the chance to mess with your little minds.¡±


    Something massive crashed into the camp, shaking the ground with the impact. The three combatants and the dark figure turned to look as a gleaming white form rose to tower above the tents. Leathery wings, large as sails on a ship, were spread wide to either side of it. It let out a growl so loud it rattled the plates of Sigrun¡¯s armor. Someone screamed. Men all across the camp started shouting.


    The dark figure stepped up beside Sigrun. The soldiers seemed to have forgotten about her.


    ¡°Looks like the sigil worked,¡± said the dark figure.


    ¡°That¡¯s a dragon,¡± Sigrun breathed.


    The dragon folded its wings, looking around at the chaos it had caused with reptilian disdain. Sigrun had read about dragons, had seen them depicted in tapestry, but hadn¡¯t thought they were real. No one she knew had ever seen one. Talk in the palace held that commons were full of stupid superstitions. Such as dragons.


    ¡°You dare!¡± The dragon spoke, its voice like thunder.


    The dragon¡¯s tail lashed, crashing through several tents.


    ¡°Breach the compact!¡± it roared, the sound making Sigrun¡¯s head hurt.


    The dragon lashed out and came up with a man in its jaws.


    ¡°We are your gods,¡± said the dragon. ¡°You have forgotten your place.¡±


    Sigrun realized it wasn¡¯t using its mouth to talk. It lashed out with its tail again and pounced forward. Men screamed.


    ¡°Awfully full of himself,¡± said the dark figure. ¡°Don¡¯t you think? They aren¡¯t gods you know. I know the gods. I¡¯ve met them. Actually, it has the wrathful arrogance part right, but they¡¯re really not gods.¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°What do we do?¡± Sigrun asked.


    ¡°Stop standing around staring, and try to get far away,¡± said the dark figure. ¡°It might let one or two live, so they can spread the news. If you¡¯re far away with Tythos, you can be the two by default. Easier not to chase you down. As long as you don¡¯t make a game of it. Dragons are a lot like cats. Just don¡¯t run.¡±


    Sigrun mentally shook herself and headed for Tythos. Her leg wasn¡¯t working right. She limped to where she¡¯d left him. He lay unconscious. She knelt and felt for the beat of his heart. She found it, but had no idea if it was a good beat or not. She looked at the dark figure.


    ¡°How is he? Will he live?¡±


    ¡°How is he? Boorish and pig headed. Will he live? That depends of if you let the dragon get him. If you meant, ¡®did what we did work?¡¯ That¡¯s yet to be seen. Magic doesn¡¯t always do what you want.¡±


    People screamed in the camp behind her. She could do this. She just had to get Tythos to safety.


    Sigrun got his arm over her shoulders and lifted him into a carry. She grunted as she stood. He was heavier than he looked. She settled him across her shoulders. She took a step.


    Her leg buckled, going completely limp and spilling them both to the ground. She was hurt worse than she thought.


    ¡°Well that didn¡¯t work,¡± said the dark figure. ¡°Are you even trying? Why are you so big if you can¡¯t carry a short man?¡±


    It was standing nearby, watching her efforts with an amused look on its face. Sigrun glared up at it.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see you helping.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t touch him without his permission, and he didn¡¯t give it.¡± It stuck its tongue out at her.


    Sigrun glanced at the camp. Some of the soldiers had organized and were marching towards the dragon in a line. They had armed with pikes and crossbows. The dragon was ignoring this, instead chasing individuals around, or through the tents, and pouncing on them.


    With the way its toothy mouth curved into a permanent reptile grin, and its eyes lit with joy, it seemed to be taking malicious glee in the deaths of the men it caught. Pouncing and slapping like a cat at play, just as the dark figure had said.


    The dragon caught a man in its jaws and threw him up into the air, only to sit underneath, its jaw cracked in that toothy grin, waiting until he came down and then catching him in its claws. It slammed him to the ground with enough force that Sigrun felt it shake. It then looked up and pounced on someone else.


    Sigrun struggled to her feet, testing her weight on the leg before standing. It held. She gave up on the idea of carrying Tythos and instead got behind him and prepared to drag. This gave her a view of what was going on in the camp as she moved.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to get very far if you keep bleeding like that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Sigrun gritted her teeth, ¡°I can¡¯t fix that and save him at the same time.¡±


    She was beginning to get lightheaded. She pushed this aside. She focused on breathing and the steps she was taking, as she dragged Tythos across the ground.


    ¡°After our exchange, I could try and¡­ touch you.¡± The emphasis the creature put on the words made it sound like it was offering something lewd. ¡°Do I have your permission, to¡­ touch you?¡±


    Sigrun gave the dark figure a flat look.


    ¡°You¡¯re deranged. Are you fucking serious with this right now? Can¡¯t you see I¡¯m trying to save us?¡±


    ¡°Of course, we both have a better chance if you let me stop your bleeding.¡±


    Sigrun blinked at the creature walking beside her. Its luminescent eyes were wide in a look of innocence. Doubt crept in around the edges.


    ¡°You can do that?¡± She shook her head. ¡°Yes. Fine. Do it. I thought you meant¡­ something else.¡±


    ¡°Something else? Myyy, someone had a dirty mind, and at a time like this too¡­ you should pull that quarrel out of your leg first.¡±


    ¡°No time,¡± Sigrun glared at the dark figure. ¡°Deal with the cut¡ª if you can really do anything about it.¡±


    ¡°Have it your way. Hold still.¡±


    Sigrun stopped. The creature¡¯s hand flowed into smoke. It drifted into a thin tendril and began to punch holes in her leg around the gash. The smoke turned to thread and began to pull the sides of the cut shut. She clenched her teeth and watched the dragon¡¯s progress through the camp.


    As she watched, the dragon caught a man by the upper torso with its jaws. It shook him so violently he tore in half. The lower torso remained attached by strings of meat and guts. This hung from the beast¡¯s mouth like a macabre marionette, the legs twitching and kicking, as it swallowed the man¡¯s upper half.


    The dragon noticed the line of men forming up and drew itself up to its full height. It raised a taloned foot and tore the lower half of the man off the ribbons of flesh hanging from its jaw. Instead of pouncing, it puffed out its chest looked at them. Its white scales were red with gore, dripping from its mouth and staining most of its front. Scraps of wet meat and bloody cloth hung from the exposed teeth of its crocodile grin.


    ¡°Yes,¡± rumbled the dragon. ¡°Come willingly and worship me. Fall down before me and I will choose one to live.¡±


    One of the soldiers broke the line and charged forward with his pike, aiming at the monster¡¯s chest. The dragon didn¡¯t move, seeming instead to invite the blow. Sigrun leaned forward, willing the man to strike true. The line of men seemed to be holding their breath, as silence fell over the field. Screaming defiance, the soldier drove the pike home at a full run, right were the beast¡¯s heart should be. With the sound of hammer on anvil, the blade of the weapon broke against the dragon¡¯s chest and the soldier stumbled, losing his grip on the pole. The man went to his knees, trying to control his momentum. Before he could rise, the dragon stepped on him. It was a casual movement, like placing a boot heel on a bug.


    ¡°Good,¡± the dragon said. ¡°Who else will kneel before me, that one might be spared? Alive only to carry a message.¡±


    ¡°Alll, doooone,¡± sang the dark figure.


    Sigrun glanced down. Her leg was sewn shut with the neatest line of stitches she¡¯d ever seen. She tested her weight on it. It was much better. She began dragging Tythos again. She needed to get as far away from the dragon as she could. With the way it¡¯d fallen out of the sky on the camp, she didn¡¯t know if anywhere would be far enough.


    ¡°How can can creatures like this be real and people say they¡¯re only superstition?¡± Sigrun muttered.


    ¡°Humans have a lovely ability to ignore things that are inconvenient,¡± said the dark figure.


    ¡°Inconvenient? This seems pretty fucking hard to ignore.¡±


    One of the soldiers gave a command and the front line of men knelt. A man in back seemed to be singing, standing in a dramatic pose, one hand outstretched. Two men stepped up beside him and joined in. Their melody blended, harmonizing. One of the men fell out of the song and lines of blue energy rose from him and wrapped the two remaining singers. They both began to glow. The second man fell out of the song. He stepped forward and raised his hands over the line of crossbowmen.


    ¡°Fire!¡±


    The line of men released their bolts. They exploded on impact. A series of bright flashes that produced booms Sigrun felt in her chest. The last man must have finished, because lightning shot from his hand, striking the dragon. The blinding light and clap of thunder knocked Sigrun¡¯s senses from her and she stumbled. She struggled up, trying to see if it¡¯d worked. If they¡¯d gotten the dragon. She didn¡¯t know there were thaumaturges here.


    Her ears were ringing and the flashes and lightning had ruined her night vision. The dragon¡¯s voice cut through the night, the deep resonance making her head hurt, it came through clearly, though she couldn¡¯t hear anything else.


    ¡°Then you all shall die.¡±


    She felt a vibration through the ground, like a heavy impact. She got hold of Tythos again and resumed her struggle to get away.


    Her vision cleared before her hearing returned and she saw the dragon rampaging through the camp. It was no longer playing with the men, killing them one at a time, it was now using its tail and talons to great effect. It took it a matter of moments to level half the camp. It turned, facing away from her and toward the remaining tents. They lit up with a red glow like they were facing a large fire. The light disappeared and another peal of thunder rolled out from the camp. Sigrun was knocked flat.


    Groaning, she sat up. A sharp smell stung her eyes and nose, reminding her of iron in a forge. A pillar of smoke rose into the sky. Sigrun stared at where the camp used to be. Nothing moved but the smoke.


    Sigrun was speechless. Was everybody dead? She hadn¡¯t even gotten across the open field. Had the dragon and the thaumaturges killed each other? The dark figure stood next to her looking back at the smoke.


    ¡°Is it¡­ dead?¡° Sigrun swallowed. Her mouth felt dry.


    ¡°Nooo,¡± the dark figure said, its mouth distending into a frown. ¡°They¡¯re not that easy to kill¡­¡±


    ¡°Easy?¡± Sigrun looked at the devastation as the smoke cleared.


    The camp was flattened. For a moment she felt rising hope. She didn¡¯t see the dragon. Maybe it was dead. Then the smoke moved and she saw moonlight gleaming off white scales. The dragon stood amidst the destruction. Its scales were no longer bloody, they shone a pristine white, blasted clean and unmarked.


    Sigrun struggled back to her feet and began dragging Tythos again. The dragon turned its head and eyed her. It began stalking her direction. Its movements unhurried and languid.


    ¡°You rejected the offer,¡° rumble the dragon.


    Sigrun gritted her teeth. The words of her commanding officer echoed in her head, ¡°by any means necessary.¡°


    Sigrun let go of Tythos and walked forward to kneel before the approaching creature. Her stomach twisted, but she¡¯d do whatever it took.


    ¡°I¡¯m not part of this camp!¡± She shouted. ¡°I did not attack you, let me leave and I will carry your message.¡°


    ¡°Don¡¯t waste your breath,¡± said the dark figure. ¡°Dragons can¡¯t tell the difference between men. As far as it¡¯s concerned, you¡¯re the same one who just shot lightning at it. Besides, it doesn¡¯t understand you. You have to speak dragon.¡±


    The dragon¡¯s only response was a long low growl. It came to a stop in front of her, and Sigrun stood to meet her fate. She drew her sword and stared up at the beast towering above her. She¡¯d done everything she could. She drew back her sword, prepared to die fighting. The dragon opened its maw, the rictus grin on its reptile head making it appear amused.


    Sigrun heard running footsteps. One of the dragon¡¯s yellow eyes swiveled toward the sound. Sigrun couldn¡¯t help but look too. A figure was running across the snow, a skinny man in loose clothes, brandishing what looked like a board. He began a falsetto chant and Sigrun recognized who it was.


    ¡°Peony?¡±


    His chant reached a crescendo with a last high note that he held as he ran right up to the beast and slapped it with his board. The sight was so incongruous that Sigrun and the dragon both stared at him. The board left a little black mark on the dragon¡¯s folded wing, and Peony reached up and put his hand on it, releasing the long note he¡¯d been holding.


    ¡°Hit it!¡± He yelled. ¡°Hit it now, Sigrun! Hit it now!¡±


    The dragon twitched its wing, a motion like shooing away a bug, and Peony went flying. He landed in a heap some distance away. When the wing retuned, the mark Peony had left was glowing.


    ¡°He did it,¡± said the black figure, disbelief evident in its voice.


    The mark flashed. The dragon screamed. Sigrun struck. She plunged her greatsword into the dragon¡¯s chest and it sank to the hilt. She¡¯d expected it to bounce off. The dragon flailed, catching her with a foot and sending her flying, head over heels. She landed hard, the scream of the dragon becoming her whole world before everything went black.


    ***

 Chapter 24, Aftermath

    Chapter 24


    Tythos woke to a demon leering at him, eyes too big, mouth too wide, full of jagged, sharp teeth. He sat up, reaching for the demon¡¯s throat, ready for a fight. It was the nightmare. It laughed, leaning back from his reach.


    ¡°That never gets old,¡± the nightmare said, its smile growing into a grin. ¡°I think you died for a little bit there. Did you see the other side?¡±


    Tythos ignored the creature and its chatter. He¡¯d been woken up this way every day for the last ten years. Longer than that. He¡¯d been having a dream. It had already slipped into vagueness. He wanted to remember it. He¡¯d been doing something important in the dream. He couldn¡¯t remember what. It had felt good to be doing something like that again. He sighed and focused on where he was. It was time to go spend another day with the pigs and the dirt.


    A breeze stabbed an icy chill into his back, biting at his skin. His clothes were wet, intensifying the chill. Had he slept outside? It was dark and his mind was fuzzy with sleep.


    He scented something familiar on the wind. It tugged at his mind, bringing up the past. The cold smell of hot ash, blown out and chilled. Like a forge two days without a smith, all the fires gone dark. There was something else, a sickly-sweet musk of death, the smell of a predator. Tythos had a vivid flash of hunting dragons in the mountains, setting traps. People dying.


    Tythos looked around, and cried out, leaping to his feet. A White lay mere feet away from him, its scales glittering in the starlight. It lay unmoving, and Tythos held his breath. If it was sleeping, he didn¡¯t dare wake it.


    Something was wrong. Things were out of place. Tythos looked up at the bright stars overhead. He¡¯d never heard of a dragon sleeping outdoors.


    ¡°Impressive, isn¡¯t it?¡± Said the nightmare.


    Tythos looked over, he would have tried to shush it, but most things couldn¡¯t hear it, which was good, because he couldn¡¯t make the nightmare shut up. Things began to come back to him, and he realized where he was. His plan must have worked if the camp was gone, and the dragon asleep. He had no idea why he was alive.


    ¡°They really did it,¡± the nightmare continued. ¡°A boy with one sigil, and a single warrior.¡±


    The nightmare spoke with a serious reverence Tythos had never heard from it before. He looked at the still form of the dragon, then back at the nightmare. He had no idea what would actually wake a sleeping dragon. He decided to risk sub-vocal speech. The nightmare could hear him no matter how quiet his words.


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Tythos said.


    The nightmare¡¯s eyebrows raised off its head. It gaped at him like he¡¯d asked what direction up was. It gestured expansively at the dragon laying nearby. Tythos glared at the nightmare. It raised its eyebrows higher, exaggerating the expression it wore by elongating its face. It pointed at the dragon.


    ¡°Yes, I see the dragon. Pretend I¡¯ve been unconscious and stop gesturing like an idiot, and use your words. Why is the dragon sleeping here? How long was I out? Who really did what?¡±


    ¡°Sleepiiiing?¡± The nightmare began to laugh. ¡°After all this time, it finally happened. It¡¯s right under your nose and you don¡¯t believe it. You really have made a religion out of your mule headed stubbornness. You sweet summer barbarian child.¡±


    Tythos took a closer look at the dragon. The moon had set and he had to study it by starlight. Between the snow and the white scales of the dragon, he could make out the shape of it. He was still getting used to having to use his human senses in the dark. It felt very limiting not to be able to see at night. He¡¯d overhead men talking about feeling small, alone at night, far from a city. Approaching the still form of the beast, he now knew what they meant.


    He walked right up to the dragon, close enough to touch it. The wrongness of this action screamed at him from his hindbrain. He pushed down the primal urge to run and studied the creature before him. Something was off. It pulled at his awareness. Below the level of conscious thought, he knew something was wrong. He studied the still form until it clicked. It wasn¡¯t breathing. Unbelieving, Tythos reached out and placed a hand on the dragon¡¯s side.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t breathing,¡± Tythos whispered, his mind screaming, thoughts crashing together. He didn¡¯t even dare think what he was hoping. Wide eyed, he looked back at the nightmare. It grinned at him and nodded.


    ¡°It¡¯s dead,¡± the nightmare said.


    Tythos looked back at the still form of the dragon.


    ¡°How?¡± He whispered.


    He had read the legends, the old texts. The scrolls passed down from generation to generation, from an age forgotten. His father had told him it was the old way, belonging only to the past now. That it was foolish to wish for the past to return. Some things could not be changed, to try would only make him old and bitter. Tythos had tried, and when he failed, his father¡¯s words had come back to haunt him. He was now old and bitter.


    The nightmare was speaking, but the words were far away, insubstantial. Tythos had one hand on the dragon, somehow he had fallen to his knees. He didn¡¯t remember kneeling. Something was wrong with his eyes. He reached up and found moisture. He was crying. This was a strange day. Tythos could remember the last time he had shed tears, a long time ago. He looked up at the stars overhead,


    ¡°There is a way,¡± he spoke the words reverently. ¡°The gates to the hall may yet be opened to you¡ª¡°


    ¡°You¡¯re not listening,¡± sang the creature, shattering the moment.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Oh nothing¡­ I was only telling you how the dragon was slain. Not anything important. Go back to whatever emotional fantasy you were just lost in. Ignore me, I¡¯m sure nothing I have to say matters. ¡±


    Tythos stood. He could speak with the dead later. A new path had opened before him and he needed to set his foot upon it before it was taken from him.


    ¡°Who did this?¡± Tythos asked the creature, gesturing at the dragon. ¡°Who exactly? Was it one of the tower trained?¡±


    The nightmare smirked at him, ¡°Yes and no. You know who they are. Well, soon it will be: knew who they were.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re listening to me now?¡±


    ¡°Yes, goddamnit! Spit it out!¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°It¡¯s just that I already told you once, and you couldn¡¯t be bothered to listen.¡±


    ¡°So help me god, if you don¡¯t tell me now, I¡¯m going to make sure you only have squirrels to eat for the rest of your existence.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s just rude. Fine¡ª as if you care¡ª the pair that saved your life and then slew the dragon are lying nearby in the snow, freezing to death.¡±


    ¡°Bloody hell,¡± Tythos cursed. ¡°Weak blooded southerners. I don¡¯t understand how anyone could freeze to death in this¡ª it¡¯s not even cold! What are you waiting for? Lead me to them!¡±


    ¡°Not everyone has bear¡¯s blood in their veins. Most humans are actually bothered by the cold.¡±


    Tythos was about to start cursing at the nightmare, when it began trudging away, across the top of the snow. He followed. He could probably take the mystery pair of people to farmer Sagget¡¯s before they froze, if they weren¡¯t too weak-blooded. He needed to talk to Mr Sagget about the slow doom he¡¯d set on the valley anyway.


    ***


    Dawn had begun to lighten the horizon, putting the stars to bed in the soft blue of the coming day. The smell of pines and fresh snow made Tythos feel he was twenty again, carrying his message of hope to the northern tribes. He breathed deeply, imagining he was back in the northern mountains. That he¡¯d been given a second chance and could do things better, armed with the knowledge of how to slay a dragon. This thought made the burden seem light, as he pulled the makeshift sledge, winding around the twisted scrub-oak.


    He had found Sigrun and Peony in the snow. They were both unconscious, and both stood a good chance of dying from their wounds before the cold got them. Tythos had taken Sigrun¡¯s dagger, he couldn¡¯t find her sword, and cut a large enough section of dragon-wing to make a sledge he could drag the pair on. The nightmare recounted what had taken place while he worked. Sigrun¡¯s sacrifice, the skinny kid managing to put a sigil on the dragon and activate it.


    As Tythos dragged the unconscious pair, the nightmare led the way. He¡¯d done what he could for their wounds, and was now determined to get them to farmer Sagget¡¯s place before they froze.


    ¡°Using charcoal to transfer the sigil,¡± Tythos said. ¡°Goddamn genius. Risky as all hell, but goddamn genius.¡±


    ¡°I told you we needed to do more experimentation with sigils on people,¡± said the nightmare.


    ¡°Human experimentation wouldn¡¯t have led us to this, you just like watching people die.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s wrong with that?¡±


    ¡°You remember we tried to get a sigil on a White.¡±


    ¡°Yes, how could I forget? Oh wait, the brain has a way of repressing trauma.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have a brain, you¡¯re made of smoke.¡±


    ¡°Rude.¡±


    He¡¯d chosen the sigil for balefire. Using ropes and knots, he¡¯d tied the pattern into the center of a net. This task by itself proved more difficult than he imagined. To ensure he could activate it, he¡¯d ridden the net down onto the dragon. That had been how he¡¯d found out being struck by lightning didn¡¯t kill a dragon. It didn¡¯t even seem to phase it. He¡¯d blacked out and become tangled in the net, which was still attached to the dragon.


    Tythos listened to the sounds the snow made under his feet with a smile on his face. The memory of his failure and near death seemed humorous in this moment. Everything seemed better, with a piece of one of the indestructible creatures in his hands. The knife had cut the wing. It was still some of the toughest hide he¡¯d ever tried to cut, but it had cut. He¡¯d marveled at it, even as he was aware of the need to hurry.


    ¡°I¡¯m not made of smoke, you know,¡± the nightmare turned its head around backward to talk to him while it walked, its tone like a petulant child. ¡°If you ever bothered getting to know me, you¡¯d know this.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Tythos said. ¡°We¡¯ve been over this. I¡¯m not doing anything that will deepen our bond. No names, no details. I may be damned, but it¡¯s my damnation. I won¡¯t lose my soul to you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re such a meanie. You know what it¡¯s like, only having you for company?¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you take a vow of silence and let me find out?¡±


    ¡°Oh, ha ha. I¡¯ve got someone else to talk to now, you know. Someone nicer than you. The sacrifice she made to save you made her part of us. She did it willingly. So you can¡¯t take that away from me¡­ unless you let her die.¡±


    The nightmare elongated its neck and looked over Tythos¡¯s shoulder at the burden he was dragging.


    ¡°Shut up and just lead the way,¡± Tythos snapped.


    The creature blew a raspberry and withdrew its head. The reminder pulled the levity out of Tythos¡¯s mood. He didn¡¯t fully understand what¡¯d happened while he was unconscious.


    The nightmare told him that he¡¯d been dying, having pushed too hard to activate the counter-ward and sigil. Sigrun had been inside the sigil when it was activated, somehow giving her the ability to see and hear the nightmare. She had also traded part of herself, willingly¡ªif the nightmare was to be believed¡ªto save his life. Then she¡¯d dragged him to safety, and faced a dragon. He wanted to get the story from her. He didn¡¯t trust the creature. It couldn¡¯t lie to him, but what it said was often intentionally misleading.


    They trudged on in silence. The burden Tythos pulled feeling heavier as he thought about it. Sigrun had given up her ability to bear children. The nightmare said it had reached inside of her and pulled it out; consumed it, to heal his broken body. This was dark magic. Blood magic. An evil he wanted no part of.


    When he¡¯d first bonded the creature, it¡¯d made him promises of long life if he completed his bond with it. Told him of how he could sacrifice people and use their life to renew his. Tythos had rejected this path. He was only using the nightmare as a means to an end.


    ¡°This is as far as I can go,¡± the nightmare said.


    It stood at the edge of a field, looking back at him. Tythos knew where he was now. He was at the edge of farmer Sagget¡¯s land.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let her die, now. We have sooo much to talk about,¡± the nightmare ginned at him, and winked.


    Tythos shouldered past it, and headed for the little farmhouse that lay across the field. He didn¡¯t look back, but he could feel the grin it wore. He wondered if he was doing the right thing, instead of letting her die, now that the creature had its claws in her.


    ***


    Bird groaned and sat up, snow falling from him as he did so. He¡¯d tackled Lance into a depression, stuffing both their mouths full of Child¡¯s-Bane, a moment before disaster. Lance lay still, not even visibly drawing breath. Child¡¯s-Bane had that effect if you took enough of it at once, slowing the heart and giving the appearance of death. It was a risk giving that much to someone who hadn¡¯t developed a tolerance to it. Better the risk than the certainty of the dragon. He¡¯d stuffed his own mouth with enough of it to be a risk.


    He pulled the plant from his mouth with clumsy fingers. His lips and tongue were numb. The world around him seemed to be moving quickly. It took several attempts to open his flask and rinse out his mouth with water. It spilled from his lips onto his chest. It was impossible to spit with numb lips. Fumbling at a pocket in his cloak, he got out a sprig of Cat¡¯s-Heart and shoved it between gums and lip. With drunken movements, he rolled Lance over and did the same for him. Bird sat and stared dumbly at the place where the farm had been.


    The sun was peeking over the horizon, by the time his head started to clear. It smeared the skyline a bloody red, reminding him of the dragon-fire. Lance¡¯s chest was rising a falling with even breaths now, which was a good sign. The man must have a strong heart. Bird shook his head.


    They hadn¡¯t followed him, instead running for the stable right before it was torn apart by unnatural lightning. He¡¯d reached the cover of the trees and masked his presence from the dragon. From there, he¡¯d witnessed things go from bad to worse. The White had shown up and begun playing with the soldiers, killing the men one at a time. Then the fool thaumaturge had done the unthinkable, using magic on the dragon. Cities would burn for this. The dragons would come and lay waste to them.


    He had to try and get to them first, warn them. He also needed one of the thaumaturges. If he was the only surviving member of the party, the shadow men would come for him. Blame him. Not only him, but his friends and family. Anyone who might be friends or family. He¡¯d seen an opportunity when Lance had made a run for it and taken a chance.


    Bird got to his feet, taking a look around. He could see other farmhouses in the valley, whole and unmolested. Tythos must have succeeded in drawing the dragon off.


    ¡°That son of a bitch did it,¡± Bird said.


    If he¡¯d drawn the dragon to where he was, it was almost certain Tythos was dead. Sigrun was gone too. He¡¯d lost track of Peony when he¡¯d grabbed Lance. He would leave Lance with a farmer and see if the kid was still alive. Then he would track down Gina. Once the few party members he thought were alive were found and dealt with, he would go see if he could find what had become of Tythos.


    Ten years. The official word to the citizens had been that Tythos was executed. But he¡¯d been here. Right here in this valley for ten years. Bird watched the sunrise, wondering what he would have done if he had known. He wasn¡¯t sure how he felt in this moment. Tythos had not been the man he expected. He was a killer, that wasn¡¯t a question, but he was something more. He could at least tell the story of the day he met Tythos Tyrannous Rex. It had been a long day.


    Bird maneuvered Lance around and shouldered him. He started walking towards a farmhouse he could see that had smoke rising from the chimney.


    ***

 Chapter 25, Season Change

    Chapter 25


    Snow capped the roof of the little house in a neat wafer, and smoke rose from the chimney, giving the place a cozy look. With the sunrise, the wind had begun to pick up. It hinted of warmth, carrying the smell of spring; green things ready to grow. The coming day promised to be bright and clear.


    Farmer Sagget stood on his porch, watching Tythos approach with a pipe in his hand. His skin was the color of the dirt of the valley, his hair gone gray, his face lined and etched by age, and sun. He wore a knowing look as Tythos pulled his sledge to a stop. He looked at prone forms of Sigrun and Peony, then nodded, like he¡¯d been expecting Tythos to show up with wounded.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get them inside,¡± farmer Sagget said.


    Upon entering the farmhouse, Tythos discovered there were three spots made up on the floor, near the fire. An iron pot was simmering on a hook above the fire, and the house smelled of herbs, roots and alcohol. It was a warm smell that filled the lungs and cleared the head.


    They worked in silence, getting Peony and Sigrun positioned on the mats by the fire. Working together, they got Sigrun out of her armor. Tythos stepped and fetched as farmer Sagget cleaned wounds and applied pungent poultices.


    Tythos felt steadied in this man¡¯s presence as he handed him tools and helped him work. Eventually, farmer Sagget spoke, not looking up from what he was doing.


    ¡°Death stalked this valley last night,¡± he said.


    It wasn¡¯t a question, so Tythos waited for the man to continue.


    ¡°You show up with the dawn, lookin like a man who¡¯s remembered how to live his life.¡± He worked in silence for a minute. ¡°When you first came to me, you were bereft: a man who¡¯d lost his will. Now you look fresh forged, like you begun doing what it was you were made for.¡± He looked up at Tythos. ¡°But you¡¯re looking at this girl like you¡¯re unsure of yourself. Like maybe it¡¯s wrong for you to have found your fire again.¡±


    Tythos stared down at Sigrun, avoiding farmer Sagget¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°She, saved me¡­ using blood magic. She¡­ made a deal with the nightmare. She sacrificed her¡­¡± Tythos swallowed, he couldn¡¯t put words to it. ¡°A big sacrifice. Now she¡¯s tied to the nightmare. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s right to let her live. The nightmare will try to use her to enter the world. I can¡¯t let that happen. But after what she did¡ª no doubt out of a sense of duty to the king,¡± Tythos spat the word like a curse. ¡°I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t take her life.¡±


    Tythos was quiet, looking down at Sigrun. She looked young lying there. Barely more than a child. He looked up at farmer Sagget. ¡°I see a way forward now, but I already have to make a choice there¡¯s no right answer to.¡±


    Farmer Sagget studied him for a minute, then resumed his work before speaking.


    ¡°When given an opportunity to choose between life and death, life will always contain more possibility. If you choose to walk this path with her, you can¡¯t say what the future will bring. Maybe good, but maybe bad. With life, there is hope, and the possibility of change. It is the harder path, for both of you.¡±


    Tythos nodded, looking down at Sigrun and Peony.


    ¡°These two already did the impossible,¡± he said. ¡°They killed a dragon. This is going to change the world.¡±


    ¡°Save your story,¡± farmer Sagget said. ¡°We¡¯re about to have company.¡±


    ***


    Once moving, Bird spotted a set of tracks heading away from the blasted farm. He detoured to get a bearing on who had made them and which way they were headed. They led to the tree line by the stream. There he found Regina, curled up in her absurd layers of clothing, in the lee of the steep bank, fast asleep. He cleared his throat, and she startled awake, a knife appearing in her hand from her voluminous layers. She blinked at him, then put the knife away and stretched.


    ¡°You laid down to sleep with a dragon nearby?¡± Bird asked.


    Regina bounded up the bank to stand beside him. She shrugged.


    ¡°Amor Fati,¡± she said.


    Bird thought for a moment, then shook his head, ¡°Love fate?¡±


    Regina bobbed her head side to side, ¡°Amor Fati is to embrace what cannot be controlled. Monstro was up there; I am down here, then¡ª badabeu!¡± She flung her arms wide, indicating where the farm used to be with her chin. ¡°Is dark and nothing I can do, so I sleep.¡±


    ¡°Well, seems to have worked out for you.¡±


    ¡°I find, is best not to worry into a knot when one cannot do.¡±


    ¡°You may be onto something, but right now, it¡¯s time to walk. Come on.¡±


    Bird led the way toward the little farm he¡¯d seen with the smoke. The wind was picking up, blowing the snow and stinging his exposed skin. It reminded him of tracking the wolverines farther north. He wished he was there, doing that.


    ¡°You called it ¡®monstro¡¯. You know what that thing was, that bada-blew-up that farm?¡±


    Regina was quiet. He glanced at her, but she was huddled in what looked like three cloaks, and he couldn¡¯t read her expression.


    ¡°If you¡¯re nodding, or shaking your head, you know I can¡¯t see you right?¡±


    She said something, but the wind whipped her words away.


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to speak up, I¡¯m upwind from you.¡±


    ¡°Le croque-mitaine,¡± she said, stepping closer. ¡°How you say, thing mothers tell children will eat them if they are bad?¡±


    Bird laughed, ¡°The boogeyman? I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s who we agreed to deliver to Ginnung Gap, before he ran off and got himself killed. That was a dragon, and it¡¯s a fair sight worse than the boogeyman.¡±


    ¡°Tythos is dead?¡± Regina stopped walking.


    Bird turned and scowled at her, ¡°Don¡¯t stop! He¡¯s gettin heavy.¡± He shifted Lance on his shoulders.


    Regina caught up, and they resumed walking.


    ¡°He is dead? How?¡±


    ¡°More¡¯n likely. He went to try and lure the dragon to the big soldier camp. After I leave this lump someplace warm and dry, I¡¯m going to go have a look.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m coming too.¡± She tried walking beside him for a few paces, but began struggling in the deep snow, and fell in behind him again.


    Bird shook his head, ¡°You¡¯d get in my way. You¡¯re gonna do what I tell you, and stay where I put you, until I come get you. If the dragon¡¯s still there, you¡¯ll get us both killed. If it¡¯s not, we¡¯re already too late.¡±


    She was quiet for several steps. ¡°Too late?¡±


    ¡°To warn anyone. Our fool thaumaturge used magic on it, which means it¡¯ll head to the closest city, or town, and burn it to the ground.¡±


    ¡°It can do this?¡±


    ¡°Badabeu, remember?¡±


    ¡°How can a thing like this be, and there are cities? Only talk of dragon I hear is babbling of drunks. I think is more superstition.¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you don¡¯t know more about this,¡± Bird glanced at her. ¡°Given what you do.¡±


    ¡°What I do¡­¡± Regina trailed off. Bird glanced at her again, but only saw billowing cloaks. She looked like an overstuffed scarecrow.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah. I know you¡¯re all shadowy. Whatever, we all gotta make a living under the king, don¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°Shadowy¡­ Yes, what I do is this. But also is what I am told¡­ Shadowy.¡± She sounded bitter.


    ¡°Figures. Right hand don¡¯t know what left hand and all that shit. Well, I¡¯ll make it simple. There¡¯s a deal that keeps dragons outta cities and most towns, and by throwing magic around, it was just broken.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah, oh.¡±


    They walked in silence until the farmhouse came into sight. Bird spotted a trail leading right up to the door. Fresh footprints and sign of something heavy being dragged. As he got closer he spotted what had been used as the litter.


    ¡°Ho-lee shiiit,¡± he said, dropping his burden and reaching down to touch the large piece of dragon-wing.


    ¡°That man must have more lives than the god of cats¡­¡±


    ***


    All three mats by the fire were filled, and Bird, Regina and Tythos sat in sturdy wooden chairs as they caught each other up on the events of the past night. Tythos was eating as he spoke, farmer Sagget having made them breakfast after seeing to Lance. Bird¡¯s food sat in his lap, forgotten as he listened, open mouthed, to the story. Tythos had a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth as he told what he knew of the dragon¡¯s death. He left out the part where Sigrun saved his life. That was hers to tell.


    Regina had eaten and was sitting quietly, no expression on her face. She was studying Tythos with an intensity that was making him uncomfortable. When he finished his story, he turned to her,


    ¡°Why are you looking at me like that?¡±


    ¡°You sound like him; you act like him, but you are younger man than who I am meeting yesterday,¡± she said.


    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± said Bird. ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to say nothin, it already isn¡¯t the most unbelievable thing I¡¯ve seen today, but you look twenty, maybe thirty years younger than when I last saw you.¡±


    Tythos looked from one to the other, trying to figure out what they were trying to pull. It sounded like a bad joke. It was the sort of thing he expected from the nightmare, but didn¡¯t fit what little of what he knew of these two. They both looked back at him without a hint of insincerity. Tythos looked over at farmer Sagget, who was sitting by the fire with his pipe. He blew a neat little smoke ring and met his eye. Farmer Sagget nodded,


    ¡°You do look younger,¡± farmer Sagget said. ¡°I suspect it has to do with what we talked about before.¡± He gave a subtle nod in Sigrun¡¯s direction.


    Tythos reached up and felt at his face, not sure what he expected. It felt like his face. He cursed under his breath, and shook his head. Then he looked down at his hand, the one that wasn¡¯t black. Really looked at it. He cursed again and leapt up, ripping off his shirt and looking down at himself.


    Feeling gobsmacked, Tythos walked out the front door and into the snow. He stood there, letting the wind pelt his exposed torso with ice. Enjoying the sting of the cold.


    It was his body that he saw. His arms and his chest. It had the old familiar scars, gone white and tough. It was just as he remembered it being: when he¡¯d met with the tribes of northmen, over thirty years ago.


    ¡°Not again¡­¡± He said, his words lost to the morning snd the wind.


    ***


    Bridge rose and walked to the door, looking out at the bear of a man that was Tythos. The metaphor fit, the man was built like a bear, thick chest and arms, standing in the snow in nothing but thin pants. It didn¡¯t appear to bother him in the least. Tythos stood twenty paces off the porch, with his back to the door.


    ¡°I¡¯d leave him be, for now,¡± said the old man smoking the pipe. ¡°Let the man have a few minutes to think.¡±


    Bird turned and looked at him. The man had tended to Lance with a deft hand, showing the skills of a healer. Judging by the state Sigrun and Peony were in, the old man had saved their lives. Bird shut the door and stepped closer to the fire.


    Bird studied the man. He¡¯d introduced himself as John Sagget. Bird squatted near him, glancing at Regina. She was looking at the door like she wanted to go after Tythos. He shook his head.


    ¡°Tell me something, John,¡± Bird said. ¡°You know that man well?¡± He indicated the closed door with a gesture.


    The old man gave him a level look over his pipe. It seemed to go right through him. He could feel it like a physical force. Bird grew uncomfortable under the stare before John Sagget spoke,


    ¡°You can call me Mr Sagget. I know Tythos as well as anyone, I expect. We been neighbors for a while now. Who¡¯s asking?¡±


    Under the stare, Bird felt compelled to justify himself. To speak of his years in the wilds, of learning the ways, then his years spent looking after people before he was allowed to carry the title: hunter. He almost spoke of his efforts in the war, the time he spent relocating people, teaching them how to live far from cities and towns. How to stay small, so they didn¡¯t attract the attention of the hungry things. Dragons were far from the only man eaters in the wild. He opened his mouth to say he volunteered to be one of those who guided the traveling traders once every three years. The supply lines brining essentials that the common people in remote places depended on. Instead, he said,


    ¡°Did you know, Mr Sagget, the practice of herbalism is forbidden by edict of the king?¡± He cast a glance at the jars and shelves in the house, full of damning evidence of just this. ¡°Practicing healers who are caught, are to suffer immediate loss of status. Commons who are caught, are to be put to death.¡± Bird looked at the three party members laid out in front of the fire. The old man puffed on his pipe, waiting for him to continue.


    ¡°These people who¡¯s lives you just saved, work for the king. I¡¯m their guide. Hired on to be hunter for their journey. If they take it into their heads to report you¡­¡± he paused for a long moment, ¡°they will never make it back to make that report.¡± He glanced at Regina, who was listening impassively. She shrugged at him.


    ¡°Never borrow trouble,¡± Regina said. ¡°Also, do not repay good with evil.¡±


    Bird looked at her. He wasn¡¯t sure if that meant she agreed or not. He turned back to Mr Sagget, who was still looking at him with his penetrating stare.


    ¡°I¡¯ve agreed to take this party,¡± Bird continued. ¡°Including the old Tyrant¡ª who now looks young enough to be my son¡ª to Ginnung Gap. I have just learned, this group may have made the most important discovery in history¡­ how to slay a dragon. I¡¯m the only thing standing between them and certain death, as we travel. I¡¯m the guy who wants to know how deep in the shit he¡¯s gotten himself. That¡¯s who I am.¡±


    Bird leaned back. He¡¯d said more than he intended to. It was the stare the man was giving him.


    ¡°Well,¡± Mr Sagget said, after a long pause. ¡°You¡¯ve got your work cut out for you. You askin because you want the measure of Tythos? I¡¯ll tell you. That¡¯s a man who¡¯s determined to change the world.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s already done that,¡± Bird snapped.


    ¡°Sit with your mouth shut a spell,¡± the gaze became a glare, and Bird held up his hands. The glare relented. ¡°He tried to change the world, and failed. He sees injustice, and he can¡¯t let it lie. He makes his own way to tryin¡¯a right it. The problem is, he¡¯s too quick to judge, and doesn¡¯t know how to forgive. That¡¯s mostly cause he won¡¯t forgive himself. You¡¯d do well to work hard to help him see the world you do, or he¡¯ll run you over the first misunderstanding you have.¡±


    Bird was quiet a moment, but Mr Sagget¡¯s stare drew words out of him, like water from a well. He found himself answering though he had not intended to say more.


    ¡°Injustice? The man started a war that damn near burned down half the world. I saw first hand the pain this man has caused. Villages burned, people starving, tens-of-thousands killed in the fighting, then more die after, when order breaks down and the remote places are consumed by the wilds. Then, then¡ª he gets the throne! He wins! Which begins the worst years in the history of the kingdom¡ª¡° Regina cut in,


    ¡°Were you there? In Highfall?¡± She said.


    ¡°No, I was organizing supply trains for people who were starving,¡± Bird said.


    ¡°I was,¡± Regina said. ¡°I grew up in Highfall. I have starved, in Highfall. This? This is first I have left the city. That years you speak about? You are wrong. For those like me, who grew up with nothing, it was best years we ever have.¡±


    ¡°What about the riots? The fires? People died in Highfall those years, Regina.¡±


    She smiled at him, no humor in her eyes, ¡°People die every year in that city. The reason you hear about these years you speak of, is people doing the dying were not only the common. The people doing the riot, were the wealthy, the citizen!¡± Regina stood and walked to the door. ¡°Those years, was best years I ever have in city. Was years I learn hope. Many learn hope those years. Without Tythos, I am dead, not surviving. You are wrong about him.¡±


    She opened the door and left. Bird looked at the closed door for a moment, then shook his head. He¡¯d met Tythos sympathizers before. In his experience, they were people who turned a blind eye to the damage the war caused. They didn¡¯t travel and see the large-scale breakdown of trade and supply structure. He¡¯d spent the last decade trying to repair the damage, and to make the remote places more self sufficient.


    Bird had to admit that Tythos was not what he expected. That didn¡¯t mean there was a way to justify the war he¡¯d started. To say all the pain and death he¡¯d caused was right. War was no way to make meaningful changes. Sure, Bird could admit he didn¡¯t agree with the king. Outlawing the practice of herbalism, for example, Bird did not think that was right. He wasn¡¯t about to start a war over it though. Instead, he¡¯d helped many of the practicing healers move to the remote places where the king¡¯s grip was weaker.


    He turned and looked at Mr Sagget. If he didn¡¯t have his hands full with this party, he¡¯d make just such an offer to this man. Bird stood and walked to the door. He wanted to see the dragon for himself. Tythos had gotten enough time.


    ¡°She has a point you shouldn¡¯t dismiss,¡± said Mr Sagget.


    Bird looked at him, but said nothing. He wasn¡¯t going to get drawn into another argument.


    ¡°I was there too,¡± Mr Sagget continued. ¡°Those years. In Highfall. I wasn¡¯t always a farmer.¡± He gestured with his pipe. ¡°Now go see the dragon, I can see you¡¯re itching to leave.¡±


    Bird looked at him for another moment, then stepped outside. Regina was standing on the porch staring at Tythos. Bird stepped up beside her. The man had stripped to his small clothes and was using the snow to scrub his skin clean.


    ¡°You think it was his mother, or his father?¡± Bird asked.


    Regina looked over at him, ¡°I do not understand. His mother or father, what?¡±


    Bird looked at the man bathing in the snow, ¡°The way I figure it, one of them had to be a bear.¡±


    Regina laughed. ¡°Probably mother was bear. I hear stories about the northmen.¡±


    Bird dug in a pocket and pulled out a copper coin, ¡°I¡¯ll give you a copper to go ask him that. Just walk up, lay a hand on his arm, bat your eyes at him, and ask him if he¡¯s a son-of-a-bear.¡±


    Regina scoffed and shoved him, ¡°No way, you go bat the eyes at him. I am doing no such thing.¡±


    Bird stepped off the porch, ¡°Missed opportunity. Now let¡¯s go see a dragon.¡±


    ***