Tad had experienced a Wraith’s Call twice before. While the Dread Lord’s words could be heard even in the depths of the Machine Works this was the first time he’d seen the column of fire that accompanied them. All the way at the Prison of Eternal Suffering the heat blowing off the writhing flames made sweat bead on his brow as his skin stung.

This was, after all, the first time a Wraith’s Call addressed what Tad was doing at that moment. Previous calls had been about incursions by competing Dread Lords and the need to rally resources. Although they meant more work shifts for the smelt works, he and Glum never noticed much difference. In all his years greasing pistons and tightening nuts in the Gear Works, Tad had never imagined such an announcement would apply to him so directly. After the flames died down The Map felt faded save for the blazing line of Gohta’s sword ahead. Although he was unclear why that orc was lying on the ground and holding aloft like that. At least the fighting seemed to be at an end, as Hohza and the invaders were nonchalantly standing around him.

He didn’t see Glum or Toran among them, but they were supposed to be at the medical tent south of the prison grounds. They were surely busy with the injured orcs and goblins from Palical’s forces that Tad sent their way after Ayara surrendered.

They also took the time to bury the dead, including Gint. The goblin scout’s bottle hung from Keg’s harness with the remaining Special Reserve sloshing about inside. Tad saved it to share it with Glum while telling him about everything that had happened.

They’d also taken time to put out the fires they’d set and check the structural integrity of the temple before they headed out. The last thing Tad wanted was for Hohza to receive a reprimand from the Logistics Corps for not tending to the facilities provided for his operation. They loved to complain about being left with unnecessary repairs.

“Wow,” gasped Ayara. She walked behind Tad with her wrists bound in tangle of twine. Although she’d insisted such a precaution wasn’t needed, she agreed to it when Tad said it would make him and the others feel safer. “I never saw anything like that in Yendell! I’m sure the government would love to make announcements to the citizens in such a terrifying way.”

“Terrifying? It’s an honor to hear from the Dread Lord! They gave us our very lives.” He patted Keg’s head. “You heard him mention War Master Hohza, right? I’m in his War Party, so he practically talked about us … in front of the whole domain!”

She responded with a doubtful murmur. Tad glanced over his shoulder and saw he looking at him with tight lips and narrowed eyes.

“You know your … uh … father? Toran?”

“He’s my uncle.”

“What’s that, again?”

“Brother of my father ... as opposed to brother of my mother. Are familial relations not a thing here?”

“Here? No. I understand they matter in other domains, though. So we’re familiar with familial relations.” He tittered, but stopped when he noticed nobody else was amused by the word similarity. After clearing his throat, Tad added that “your uncle, Toran, is good friends with the Dread Lord.”

“Leave it to uncle Tor to make friends with a wraith! Most anyone in Yendell would piss themselves at the thought of meeting one. We don’t even go near the hill where one stood during the last invasion of the city.”

“I don’t know about other wraiths, but the Dread Lord Withering Sorrows isn’t so bad. They saved my life, you know,” Tad said, his chest puffed with pride.

Ayara let off a long whistle. “That must be a rare honor. Most rulers just expect the people beneath them to consider it an honor to die in their name. You must be an especially impressive lgoblin.”

“I’d say he’s pulled his weight, but that seems an understatement, given how little he is,” said Palical as he plodded along behind them. “You’ve done War Master Hohza proud.”

Even though everyone was to his back, Tad lowered his head to hide his burning cheeks. “To be honest, he wasn’t fighting to save me, specifically. It’s just that he happened to save me, too, by killing those bearwulvs.”

“You’ve faced bearwulvs? We had to deal with them when we first arrived here. Terrible creatures,” Ayara quivered as she spoke. “Whether your Dread Lord meant to or not, it was a good thing they saved your life, Tad.”

Had he died back then, Tad would have begun the endless shift in the Spirit Works, laboring alongside The Makers to keep the World Beyond from breaking. Now that he was in a War Party, though, was he destined to sing the Dread Lord Withering Sorrows’ praises alongside Hohza … but didn’t Hohza hate the Dread Lord? Better than either of those was Palical’s eternal harvest of the moonberry orchards, although he could do without dancing with troll ladies.

“Thanks.”

“Well I don’t think it’s a good thing,” Renaut barked. Palical had taken the honor of carrying the sibling sprites, now both tied to the one stick. “If it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t have to suffer this humiliation and the rest of you monsters would be dead!”

“Don’t listen to her, Tad. I don’t mind how things turned out,” Henri said.

“Fine! Then I’ll take your share of what little we’ll get paid for this failure of a mission!”

“The mission isn’t a failure, Renaut. We’ll still get my uncle back to Yendell. Just with less bloodshed than expected.”

“I’m sorry, Ayara, that killing our enemies too much of a burden for you. You must not have expected that when you joined our mercenary company!”

“Could you please shut her up,” Ayara grumbled.

“What do you say, Tad,” Palical asked.

After glancing up at Ayara, seeing her brows lowered and lips tight, Tad answered: “Shut her up.” There was a light thud as Palical smacked the top of Renaut’s head with his fingertip.

“I’m the one who is going hear her complain about this.”

“Sorry, Henri,” Tad said.

They rest of the short way to Hohza was walked in silence save for the swaying of chainmail and clatter of arms and armor of the troops marching behind. While Hohza’s eyes were on Tad during his approach, most of the others were looking to Ayara and Palical behind him, especially the red haired dwarf by Hohza’s side. She watched with stern pout, her upper lip sticking out as she bit her lower one.

The giant elf nearby, muscular and toting what appeared to be a tree trunk, was focused entirely on Ayara. “Are you well,” he asked her when Tad and the others came to a stop.

“Oh, this?” Ayara raised up her hands, displaying the messy bonds around her wrists. “This is just for show. I’m fine, Kornin.”

“Renaut is unconscious, but otherwise well. She brought it on herself, but don’t let her know I said that,” Henri added.

Hohza looked down at Tad. “Capturing three of the enemy to my two? Showing up your War Master in your first battle!” He shook his head. “What kinds of things do they teach in the Machines Works?”

“We came to a stalemate, War Master,” the dwarf blurted. She walked to Palical while Kornin went to Ayara. “You heard your Dread Lord. We’re now guests of this domain. Hand over your prisoners!”

Palical bent forward to hand the dwarf woman the sprites. She immediately began pulling at the string in an attempt to undo it. Henri shouted as a cord pulled righter around him. Then the dwarf pinched one end of the stick under her arm as she searched her pouches for a knife to cut Henri and his sister free. “Why did you barbarians strip them naked? Did you keep their clothes?”

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“Tad could tell we keep reagents in our robes, Bonnelle, so they took them off to stay safe. They should be on Keg somewhere,” Henri said.

“Keg?” Bonnelle slipped the knife under the twine and cut through them. Henri crawled onto her arm and to her shoulder, while she held out her other hand to catch Renaut.

“The boar.”

Bonnelle looked to Tad. “Hand their clothes over!”

“Of course.” Tad reached back and rummaged along the Keg’s satchels until he found the sprites’ bright robes balled together in one. He pulled them out and handed them to Bonnelle, who snatched them away.

“Really. You two were the last ones I expected to see captured here. How’d they do it?” Bonnelle fussed with untangling the clothes and getting them to her companions as she wandered toward Hohza.

After setting down his club, the man elf produced his own knife which he used to cut away the twine binding Ayara. As the broken strings drifted to the ground he gripped her hands and massaged where the string had rubbed the skin raw. He pulled close to her, their noses almost touching, but the girl suddenly turned away.

“Tad there is quite the commander, War Master,” Ayara commented. “Ruthless, innovative, and deeply concerned for the men serving under him. You’ve taught him well and he does you and your Dread Lord proud.”

“He’s just a goblin, Ayara,” Kornin mumbled to her. It seemed her didn’t know how good a goblin’s hearing was.

“Taught him well,” Hohza ruefully repeated. He glanced at Gohta, lying as a stone effigy by his feet, holding his prized Burnblade to the sky. “I wish I could take credit for that, but he’s only been under my service for about two weeks.” He looked to the boy and smiled. “If there’s anyone who taught you everything you know …”

Tad smiled back. “It’s Glum! I should reach him at the medical tent to let him know I’m well!” He picked up the communicator but paused as he held it to his face. Bonnelle sat in the grass with the sprites in her lap. Henri had his robe on and, cradling his sister in his arms, was waking her by wafting a concoction under her nose. “Oh, wait, maybe I should …”

“Hold off on that for now. Glum isn’t at the medical tent and neither is Toran. He and Toran are with the Dread Lord. They’re the ones who compelled them to intercede and I don’t want the matter being discussed so … publicly.” Hohza held out his hand and Tad gave him the communicator.

Hohza lifted it to his mouth. “This is War Master Hohza letting any forces who missed the Dread Lord’s Wraith’s Call know that the battle with the invaders from the World of Light has come to an end. I will escort them to the Dread Lord’s keep, taking the road along the Tears of Torment river.” He spoke with his jaw set and his bald brows lowered as though he were addressing his troops directly. He kept the communicator to his face as he listened to the message repeat.

Just as he finally lowered the device a message from Toran came through. The green skin of his palm turned white around the edges of the slab as he choked it while listening to the elf doctor. “Hohza! Hohza! You’re well! That’s wonderful this all worked out! Is Ayara accounted for? Is she safe?”

The orc hung his head and groaned. From beneath his heavy brow he looked to Ayara. While the skin on her upper arms still bore abrasions, she was otherwise well. “Yes, she’s unharmed. While she was our prisoner, Tad saw to it she was safe. He’s well and with us, too. Doctor, please let’s not discuss this any more until we’re at the Keep.”

When no further response came, Hohza sighed with relief and returned the device to Tad.

Bonnelle, with a sprite seated on each shoulder, sauntered up to Tad and held out her hand. “May I?”

After looking to Hohza for approval, Tad handed it over. The two sprites leaped from her and dashed to Kornin, cutting trails through the grass as they did. Although the goblin tried to explain that she needed to depress the red jewel on the slab’s face while talking, she immediately moved away from him and presented the object to Hohza. “Care to explain to me how to use this?” Her eyes fluttered as she asked.

“You press here and keep it held down while you’re speaking.” He pointed at the jewel, his voice softer than Tad had ever seen before. The woman seemed captivated by his words and movements while he explained.

Unsure what to make of the exchange, Tad looked up at Ayara. She stood, leaning her back into Kornin as he wrapped his around her. Together they watched the display with bemused smiles that threatened to break out into laughs. The girl caught Tad glancing in her direction and rolled her eyes as if to include him on the joke he didn’t understand. Nonetheless, once their eyes met they smiled at one another.

Bonnelle used the goblin communicator. “Hello, Doctor Toran, this is Lady Bonnelle Rhodian of the Deep Shine, Executive of the Rude Rubies; the adventuring company which was contracted by Yendell to bring you home.”

Ayara snorted derisively at the claim of taking Toran “home.” Tad met it with his own giggle. Clearly, Bonnelle didn’t know the doctor as well as either of them. Bonnelle shot the elf an irritated look, glowering as her lip curled up in disgust, and then continued her message.

“We can discuss the details later, at the Dread Lord’s Keep. However until we get there I do I have an urgent concern about someone not from my adventuring company who joined us on this campaign and is, at the moment, unaccounted for: Lieutenant Chrincha of the Yendellian Army. If you or any of War Master Hohza’s forces have encountered him I would like to know his status.” She lifted her thumb from the jewel. As she listened to her voice through the device she scrunched up her face. “Do I really sound like that?”

Hohza shook his head in the negative. This time Kornin laughed. “Oh, this is bad,” he whispered to Ayara.

Toran answered. “Glum and I encountered the lieutenant on our way to the Keep. He suffered some injuries but he’s here and under my care. I did leave his weapon by the Tears of Torment. I would appreciate it if War Master Hohza collected it on the way here.”

They waited a moment longer, but there was no more to the message. Bonnelle gave the communicator to Hohza, who gave it to Tad.

“I thought you said you uncle served as a medic during his time with the military, Ayara.” Bonnelle pointed at the girl.

She shrugged. “He did! Both he and my father always spoke ill of their time in the service but appreciated the opportunity to study medicine.”

“There’s no way someone who only had basic training was able to beat Chrincha,” Bonnelle said.

“We’re here because he taught The Sorceress magic. Maybe he’s more powerful than we give him credit for,” Kornin replied.

“Plus he was with Glum,” Tad shouted.

“Or perhaps that elf is just a lousy soldier,” Bigrummar commented from afar. “No one beaten beaten by the combined strength of a medic and a worker goblin, both old men, should be thought of as a great warrior.”

“Interesting necklace,” Kornin mumbled, staring at the troll’s golden feather hanging over his chest.

“Yeah! I wager he just sucks,” Yurzan said.

“Let’s not insult our guests,” Hohza said to them, rubbing his temples. He looked down at Keg, now licking Gohta’s stony cheek, leaving a frothy mucus coat on the slick grey, white, and black rock. Tad bounded off the boar and pushed his mouth away from the stony skin. “Don’t try to eat our War Party,” the scolded. The warmth of Gohta’s blazing sword made Tad’s back prickle with sweat. The boar let off a series of gassy grunts as he trotted away.

Tad pointed at the statue of Gohta and looked at Bonnelle. “Did you do this?” She closed her eyes and shook his head, then leaned toward Hohza.

“This was my doing. He fought valiantly, but didn’t know when the fight was over.” Hohza knelt beside the statue. He tapped his fingers on the purple velvet bag resting on the statue’s throat, where the very tip of black stone poked out and touched the skin. “Remember that? One of the enchanted items we were using as a lure. It’s the ‘Eggfinity’ which turns flesh into stone.”

“You turn him to rock to calm him down?” Tad swiped his fingers along Gohta’s cheek to scrape away Keg’s saliva.

“It was the quickest way resolve the matter without hurting him. I wish more things could be so simple.” Hohza sighed. “I’ll grab his arm to keep the sword under control. You take away the Eggfinity. Be sure not to touch it yourself.”

Tad reached out and pinched his fingers around the bag, feeling the hard rock inside. Hohza examined Gohta’s arm for a moment, wary of the fiery blade, and then gripped the wrist with one hand while holding the hilt with the other. He braced himself, taking a deep breath and tightening his holds. “Now!”

Tad snatched the egg off Gohta. He turned the bag over in his hand so the enchanted item settled inside, nestled in his palm.

The statue’s surface rippled and the stone skin flaked away, revealing soft flesh beneath. Gohta came to with a start, panting and attempting to finish the action with his sword. He felt Hohza’s tight hold on him and struggled for a moment. He looked about, seeing that nothing was as he’d known it a moment before, and released the sword. Laying on the ground, the orc placed his hands on his chest and breathed deep. “What’s happening, War Master,” he whimpered.

“We lost the fight,” Hohza answered his bewildered comrade.

“Stalemate,” Bonnelle corrected.

“Fortunately, we’re still alive,” Hohza said.

Rocking and twisting, Gohta turned himself about to sit, slumping, in the grass. “I see.”

With his free hand, Hohza reached across to pat Gohta on the shoulder. “Cheer up! We’ve been invited to a feast at the Dread Lord’s Keep!”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

“I suppose I can handle a feast.” Gohta’s chubby cheeks pushed back in a wistful smile.

“But will the feast be able to handle you?” Bonnelle squatted between the two, eyeing Gohta.

“Better than any fat dwarf,” Gohta grumbled, getting to his feet. Hohza handed him his sword and he sheathed it. Tad found a place for the Eggfinity, still in its purple pouch, on his tool belt.

“Very well,” Hohza clasped his hands together. “We’re off to the Keep!”

Palical raised one arm. “Loathe as I may be to turn down an invitation, my forces would prefer to head back to the North Country as soon as possible.”

Bigrummar groused about the North Country folk, saying they were just going to report to an enemy Dread Lord. Tad turned his head, flashing Bigrummar a mean look. His glare was punctuated by a snarl from Keg. Bigrummar was unimpressed and, although he stopped talking, flicked his thumb at Tad; a rude gesture used among the soldiers.

“I understand. I appreciate your participation in this campaign, Palical. There should be a survey of the Northern Country in about a year. I hope to participate,” Hohza said.

“I will set aside some barrels just for you,” Palical said. A group of goblins rushed to the troll’s side. Tad recognized them from Gint’s squad.

“Sir? If you don’t mind, we would like to stay behind a while to serve under the goblin War Master,” one of the goblins commented.

“War Master,” Hohza repeated with a questioning smirk on his face.

“I never said I’m a War Master,” said Tad as he bunched his shoulders to hide.