“He isn’t responding.”
“Did something happen?”
“The dark elves are still out.”
“They’re fine… I think,” Hale said, leaning over the two unconscious elves. Neither were injured in any way that she could think to check. Because of some of Zullie’s experiments, their bodies weren’t exactly usual. Having sat in for some experiments, including Project Liminal, Hale was somewhat well-versed in abnormal magical effects. Because of that, she could see only one thing that might be a problem. “Both appear to have used an excess of magic over a short amount of time. Because of the link we have with Arkk, that normally wouldn’t be a problem. They should have recovered by now.”
The muscles in Kia and Claire’s faces were tense, as if in a constant, painful grimace. They were still using magic, even now. Or rather, they were trying to use magic. But they didn’t have much to use. That left them strained and… broken.
Hale stood, enjoying the strength in her new muscles. She had been thinking about asking Zullie if there were any of her projects suitable for someone like her. After seeing this, perhaps that wasn’t the best idea. Her new legs and arms were her. She would get tired if she exercised too much but that wasn’t any different to how it had been before. This power the dark elves had was more like a leech, always active, always draining.
“I think I can fix it,” Hale continued, stepping clear of the two dark elves to an empty space in the command room. “I just need to infuse their bodies with some more magic.”
“You’re going to drain glowstones to get them on their feet?” Zullie said, frowning as she stepped closer. “It won’t last long.”
“It’ll be temporary,” Hale agreed, bending down to start drawing out an infusion circle. Basically the reverse of the ritual used to fill glowstones in the Underworld. “Hopefully we can get them talking long enough for them to tell us what happened.”
Hale tugged off one of her gloves. Tensing all the muscles in her hand made a long, thin claw pierce through the tip of her finger. With that, she quickly started etching the ritual circle directly into the stone floor. The lesser servants could fix the damage later.
Unfortunately, she had to pause as large orcish boots stomped into place directly in front of her. “You’re going to use up glowstones right before a battle?” Rekk’ar growled.
“She’s not wrong,” Olatt’an said, stepping around the large table. “If something happened to Arkk and the only ones who know what happened are unconscious, getting them talking is vital. Our fighting tactics hinge on Arkk’s abilities.”
Rekk’ar showed off his tusks. He looked like he was about to say something, but hesitated. He stepped aside, allowing Hale to continue. “We fought for years without him or his powers.”
“Were we against slavers or forest monsters, I would agree,” Olatt’an said with a nod of his head. “But we are fighting an avatar and an army. While the hope was that the avatar would stay protecting his army while we extract our team, we cannot guarantee the avatar will stay there. It is best to have all our cards up our sleeves. Expending one or two glowstones still leaves us with enough to enact plenty of siege magic.”
Hale tuned them out as she started working again, only to have to stop when Zullie stepped forward, blocking the spot she had been working on. “Is finding Arkk not an emergency?” Hale barked out, starting to get upset. Looking up and finding Zullie not even facing remotely toward her only made her more upset.
The eyeless witch was turned toward the orcs, standing with her hands on her hips. “Now, now. Hale has the right idea but she isn’t experienced enough to realize we can perform this experi… this operation without any glowstones needed.”
Hale let out a loud huff.
Turning in place, Zullie pulled out an extensible metal rod. The kind used to draw out ritual circles in dirt or other soft ground. She tapped it to the ground and swept it in a circle. It wasn’t sharp enough to gouge the ground, but it did leave a faint mark. Even without eyes, she managed to sketch out the ritual circle almost perfectly.
Hale stared at it for a moment before realizing exactly what Zullie meant by not needing glowstones.
“You’re going to use the fortress to funnel magic into them? It will only be a trickle. That isn’t much—”
“They aren’t a bombardment array. It doesn’t need an instant burst of magic, but low-sustained and constant magic. Just a little bit to ease their strain,” Zullie said. “The fortress is perfect for that. In fact, it should be doing that anyway… I suspect their link to Arkk, and thus the fortress, has been severed, resulting in their current state.”
“Ah… Ah! Of course. That makes sense. But can’t we just rehire them to fix that?”
“Need them to be conscious.”
“Right,” Hale said. While she thought she had learned quite a bit from Zullie about magic, she was fully cognizant that Zullie knew much more about the fortress and its mechanics than she did. So she quickly got to work, using her claw to finish the ritual circle according to Zullie’s patterns.
As soon as that was done, she and Zullie moved Kia into place. She was more likely to be the talkative one of the two, so her first. It was a bit of a cumbersome affair, moving her, but it couldn’t be helped. Project Liminal caused… changes to their bodies. Those afterimages could be deadly if touched improperly. Even now, disconnected from the fortress, they were still leaving them behind. Though they seemed inert, Hale could feel them flaying away at her hands. Active use of the Flesh Weaving spell counteracted that.
Hale wasn’t sure how Zullie avoided being torn to pieces. She didn’t have tough, draconic skin nor had she uttered the Flesh Weaving spell to repair her body as she moved. She simply touched Kia without regard for danger.
Zullie was strange. Stranger after having lost her eyes.
Hale paid her no mind. She had a patient in need of help. With Kia in the center of the ritual circle, Hale planted a hand on the trigger point of the circle. A tiny pulse of magic was all it took to activate it.
The entire tower shuddered as the ritual circle lit up with a bright blue light. Hale tensed, gripping her claws into the ground even as she wished she had gone ahead and figured out how to give herself wings like Priscilla. But the shudder was a one-time thing. The Walking Fortress stabilized and went still once again.
Kia wasn’t still. Her afterimage lurched forward, gasping, followed swiftly by the actual dark elf. Kia’s eyes darted around. Afterimages of her head and arms swirled around her as if she were trying to protect herself from a sudden attack. One of those afterimage hands lashed out toward Hale, making her scramble back from the reality-flaying hand.
Zullie stepped forward, swatting away the ghostly arm with her bare hand. “Calm down,” she said, leaning forward without any fear. “Where’s Arkk?”
Kia’s eyes, wide and fearful, latched onto Zullie as if the witch were a rope thrown down an oubliette. She stared a moment before her hands grasped either side of her head, rubbing at her temples. “Two of them,” she said slowly, her words echoing in her afterimages. “There were two Arkks.”
“Of course, I’m worried about him. That doesn’t mean we can sit back,” Ilya strode forward, moving alongside Alma. “Leave Arkk to the others. We have our people to save.”
Arkk, whatever he was doing, wouldn’t want everyone to drop the rescue operations and focus on him. He had been gathering crews to head out without him. There was no need to hold them back.
“I’m taking command for now,” Ilya said.
The beret on Alma’s head twitched. “Is that the wisest course of action given the situation?”
Ilya paused and half-turned, glaring at Alma with such intensity that it almost felt like her eyes were glowing just like Arkk’s. “You’re suggesting we leave them? They’re still alive.”
Alma shied away, her ears flattening against her head on their own. “N-No. Of course not. I would never… I meant you being in charge. Is that wise?”
Alma hadn’t thought it was possible but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Ilya’s glare intensified tenfold. The tall elf fully turned, her face set in stone. “Alma,” she said slowly. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
“Nothing,” the werecat squeaked, feeling more like a weremouse. “Nothing at all.”
Ilya stared a moment longer before turning away without another word.
Alma shook her head and took a breath, trying to throw off that intense pressure. She had always thought Ilya was something of a pushover, but this did remind her that, during the incident that got her hired on in the first place, Ilya had been the one to suggest outright killing her instead of torturing her. She had almost forgotten. Intentionally. For as poorly as her service to Company Al-Mir had started, she rather liked her duties these days. She felt a managerial role fit her perfectly. Company Al-Mir didn’t treat her poorly—or anyone, for that matter. Even Luthor was starting to regain some of his confidence.
But they had effectively kidnapped her, threatened her, and forced her into her contract. She tried to forget that bit.
It wasn’t that Alma doubted Ilya’s ability to get things done or to command some troops—Ilya had done some of that before Alma joined up, before the war started, and before she got injured at the Duke’s party. Alma’s main objection to her being here was Arkk. He wanted to keep Ilya safe. And if something happened to the elf on Alma’s watch…
Alma shuddered to think what might happen.
Ilya ahead of her threw open the doors to the ready-room. Inside, a handpicked group of Shieldbreakers, battlecasters, orcs with shadowy armor, and gorgon stood at the ready. A few donned looks of confusion at seeing Ilya in the lead, but nobody was too alarmed. It was well known that Ilya and Vezta were effectively the next level of Company Al-Mir’s hierarchy beyond Arkk. Olatt’an, Rekk’ar, and the research team were just below that.
Alma was somewhere under the rest of the advisory group. She wasn’t exactly sure what she had done to earn such a lofty position—apart from learning about a plot to overthrow the Duke, that was. She supposed it was either keep her close to keep an eye on her or throw her off in some corner of the dungeons to keep her quiet. Alma certainly wasn’t going to complain. Not that it mattered anymore.
The Duke was dead.
As for the rescue teams, they probably assumed nothing was amiss.
“Arkk is unavailable for this mission,” Ilya started. “As are the Project Liminal dark elves. Priscilla and Leda will be flying overhead, working with a bombardment strike team to draw the enemy’s attention. We will be on extraction duty. Any questions?”
The gorgon with the iridescent black scales and mechanical end to her tail slithered a step forward. “Iss Arkk—”
“Unavailable,” Ilya interrupted. “Any other questions?”
That was one way to shut down questions. Probably one of the more alarming ways. Not how Alma would have handled it.
Ilya simply looked over the group as if she honestly expected more questions after her interruption. Finding none, she turned and pinned a hastily drawn map to the wall. “We have three groups trapped behind enemy lines. Two underground, still in the tunnels, and one group above ground,” she said, updating the briefing from earlier “The latter will be the more difficult, so team leaders?”
Zharja, already slithered forward, stayed where she was as a battlecaster and one of the elven archers moved to join her.
Ilya looked over the three, then shifted her eyes over their shoulders, examining their particular groups. All three were mixed in their makeup, but Zharja’s had Lyssa and the majority of the Shieldbreakers while the archer had the majority of the ranged combatants. The battlecaster had a fairly healthy mix of melee and magic.
“Zharja and Lyssa,” Ilya settled on. “Your teams will be with me, responsible for the above-ground unit. Vector—” She looked to the battlecaster. “—will be in charge of recovering unit two. Maya will recover unit three. Here is how we’ll be doing this…”
Joanne clasped a hand over her mouth, trying not to hiss at the stabbing pain she felt in her side. It hadn’t been so bad earlier—or perhaps the adrenaline covering the pain faded away—but now, up here?
With her other hand, Joanne clung to the branch of the tree. A thin yet strong thread of spider silk helped her stay in place, supporting most of her weight. Even without being injured, she still would have been uncomfortable. With injuries?
Pain was all in the mind. Just the only way her body had of relaying that it was injured. As she already knew that, it didn’t mean anything. Or so she told herself over and over again while trying to keep her mouth sealed shut.
Below her, bright glowstone lights scoured the forest floor. A dozen armored men searched for any sign of interlopers. Injured and broken, Joanne and Kevin quickly realized they weren’t going to outpace the soldiers. Aside from the trail made while dragging her away from the explosion, which really could have been anything, she had no idea how they knew anyone was on the surface, let alone intact after that blast. But there they were.
Searching.
They were focused on the ground. If any one of them looked up, if she coughed or wheezed or just made the wrong rustling noise with her armor, that would be it. She didn’t know if they would try to capture her or if they would just kill her immediately with arrows or magic, but either way, it wouldn’t be good for her.
Lifting her gaze, Joanne looked over at another tree. Even with all the glowstones moving around below, she could barely see the silhouette of Keven. The arachnoid clung to the tree like he had been born to climb and managed to keep himself almost completely in shadow no matter where the lights were below. If he were on his own, he would have easily escaped. Even now, Joanne was sure he could have slipped away if he wanted. Yet there he was, watching and waiting and making sure she was still safe.
It irked. He shouldn’t be here. Just like she shouldn’t have bothered trying to save him. She could have gotten further down the tunnel if she ran when she ordered the others to, past the point of collapse, and made it back with Viv and the others.
In her foolishness, she had stayed behind. And now, he was staying behind.
Joanne couldn’t help but think that they would both end up paying the price.
Luck, that fickle wheel, chose the moment that thought crossed her mind to play its latest trick on her. The spider thread letting her hang from the tree even despite her injuries slipped. It didn’t break. It didn’t send her tumbling to the ground down below. But it slipped, scraping away some old, loose bark from the side of the tree. A small chunk fell, knocking into one branch and then another before finally landing in the underbrush, rustling the leaves.
The closest guard whirled. He didn’t hesitate for a single second before jamming his pike into the bush. So much for taking prisoners, Joanne thought with glum realization. That, in turn, got the attention of the rest of the search party.
It could have been a rabbit or a fox. All they had to do was shrug their shoulders and walk away.
Don’t look up. Don’t look up…
Joanne didn’t know if it was luck, strategy, or just Arkk, but just as one of the soldiers started tilting his head back, a blast of icy wind swept through the forest. A cascade of sleet and snow rained down a dozen paces back, back where the explosion had just gone off.
There, high in the moonless night, barely visible between the branches of the evergreen tree, a dragonoid’s scaled wings caught the starlight, glinting as she swooped around to come in for a second strafing run.
The guards down below scrambled and shouted, fully alert. They were looking up, but not at her. Their eyes were on Priscilla. In mere seconds, they were rushing out from below, heading back the way they came.
Joanne sagged, her relief threatening her grip on the tree. She let out a breath that she couldn’t guess at how long she had been holding. For the first time since that dragonoid appeared and got herself hired, Joanne was glad to see her. Looking up, she met Kevin’s gaze. Inhuman though it was, she still saw the flood of relief in his multitude of eyes.
Her relief combined with a sudden surge of adrenaline. Joanne let out a small, soft laugh at making it through.
Only to feel a sharp, piercing pain directly in her gut. Joanne looked down to find an arrow punctured through her mail.
One of the guards, trailing just behind the others, started shouting even as he drew a second arrow from his quiver.