Kargan and Ryak stepped into the dim light of day at the southern entrance of the Aurora Caverns.

Kargan took a deep breath of the frigid air. If that was the last time he ever set foot underground, he wouldn’t complain. In the Orcish clans of the Umbers, there was a saying about unfamiliar openings into the earth: “Cave equals grave.” He had always been one to question the traditions of his kind, since they hadn’t served him too well, but there was definitely something to this one.

It had taken three full days to navigate the treacherous caverns, and they had only run into a few Fyrspawn, which were easily dispatched by Ryak’s ice magic. There had also been a cloud of ice bats, which Kargan had taken care of. He had a new Level 14 boon, Thirsting Aegis, which buffed his Blood Aegis to deal damage over time to anything that touched it. Not only that, but it fueled his blood magic with their Life Force when they died. It was especially powerful against large mobs of weak enemies.

Kargan felt pleased with the progress he had made. He would never have chosen to go into the Vault, but he still had enough experience banked for another level-up, which would bring him to 15. Assuming they could make it south of the mountains, well, there was no telling where his life might lead.

Ryak never paused, picking a path down the narrow trail. In the distance was a narrow valley and a line of snowy hills beyond that.

According to Ryak, they needed to follow this path to reach Draegor’s Keep. They traveled over a hundred miles underground, hardly ever pausing.

Now, they had only seventy-five miles left to reach their goal.

Kargan relished the silence. He and Ryak had exchanged a few sentences. If there was anything about humans, especially Justin and Lila, they sure liked to hear themselves talk.

Not that he disliked them. They could be so damn annoying and chirpy sometimes, even if he respected their skills.

Before the morning was even done, they were in the valley below, walking southeast. The air was frigid, making Kargan grateful he had his gear enchanted back in Kaldrath.

With luck, they would make Draegor’s Keep in three days. The caravan trail from Kaldrath to the mountain city was well-established, and they followed in the footsteps of countless frosthorns and, unfortunately, their dung. Which according to Ryak, was an excellent fuel for fire.

Kargan’s thoughts broke when a pale, dark-cloaked man appeared from a copse of spindly trees, holding a semi-translucent javelin that was hard to pick out in the snow: Wolfram.

And from the other side of the trail, Gareth appeared from behind a stand of rocks, wearing dark armor and a cloak, with a hand on the hilt of his new katana.

Both undead men blocked their path in a narrow pass about fifty steps away.

“The agreement is still active,” Ryak said. “It’s only the start of the sixth day.”

“Yeah,” Kargan agreed. “Doesn’t mean they don’t have any other tricks up their sleeves.”

All Kargan could wonder was how it was possible. The only way is if they passed while they had been deep in the caverns. If that was the case, then they had managed to follow far more quickly than he would have ever guessed.

“Come,” Ryak said. “Let’s see what they want.”

Kargan already knew what they wanted, but they could do nothing but approach. He tried to ignore the sick twisting in his stomach.

They came to a stop about ten paces away. Gareth’s cold, gray eyes watched without emotion, while Wolfram the Ranger’s hand clenched his javelin as if itching to use it.

Well, let him try, Kargan thought.

Gareth spoke, his voice an undead rattle. “Well met. My master was hoping to come to a new arrangement. And since the Socialite isn’t with you, maybe you can bring the message back to him. Assuming he’s alive.”

Kargan searched the trees for Rothian and Valdrik, but there was no sign of either.

“Your Baron can ask us himself,” Ryak said. “Where is he, along with the Pyromancer?”

“Rothian is dead,” Gareth said, his voice flat. “As for my master, he's close.”

Kargan felt surprised by Rothian’s death. Had it been natural, or had he crossed the Baron?

And why would Valdrik be hanging back?

Ryak took a slow look around. “Is Valdrik afraid? He must know we can do no harm.”

“He knows this,” Gareth answered. “He has his reasons. Do the others live?”

“You said your master had a new proposition,” Ryak said. “I’m losing patience.”

“It’s simple,” Gareth said. “He wants a longer truce and is willing to make an agreement to enforce it.”

Kargan blinked in surprise. “What, seriously? How much longer? What’s changed?”

“I can’t speak to how long, but it would be much longer than two weeks. My master tires of this bitter feud. Neither side gains anything from it. It would behoove all parties to come up with something that lasts longer.” Gareth stared at Ryak without blinking. “Of course, this agreement is impossible to make without the Socialite, so where is he? Why is he not with you? Don’t lie to me. While I don’t have a skill that allows me to determine the truth of someone’s words, my master does.”

“They’re dead,” Ryak said.

Kargan kept his face stoic as both Gareth and Wolfram scrutinized him.

“Dead,” Gareth said, his voice flat and unbelieving. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“What I mean is, they might as well be. Against my better judgment, they attempted a feat that is going to get them killed. While I cannot definitively say they are dead, it is the most likely outcome.”

“We need details,” Wolfram said. “What did they attempt?”

“That’s not for me to say.”

Gareth’s posture seemed to straighten as he gave an intimidating lean. “The Baron has scoured the Hallowed Fjord, along with the Tulimak Fjord. He has checked other obvious paths, such as the one to your village. Perhaps they might know something?”

“What could they possibly know?” Ryak asked coldly. “Do you think I would have risked my people so?”

“That depends on how you answer, Iceborne,” Gareth said. “Would you risk them? Where do your loyalties truly lie?”

On this, Ryak remained silent.

“Did you have anything to do with Kythralis?” Ryak asked.

“Nay,” Gareth said. “That was the work of the Fyrspawn. Those creatures, according to my master, are not even from Eyrth. As for why they burned your sacred tree, I cannot say.”

“Well, there is little you can do to either of us,” Ryak said, “and our loyalty is not for sale. We still have eight days until the agreement ends. You are over two hundred miles away from the Yarith Iceborne’s territory. If you were to turn back, it would prove a distraction.”

Gareth gave a rare, wintry smile. Kargan did not like that very much.

Ryak shifted on his feet. “If your master wishes to talk to us, well, he knows where we are. Until then, your veiled threats are empty.” Ryak nodded to Kargan. “Let’s go.”

Kargan felt nervous walking by both of them. He created a Sacrificial Armor spell for both him and Ryak just in case. It hardly cost him anything these days, and it was better to be safe.

Wolfram smirked at the move, but Kargan didn’t care.

They had only taken a few steps toward the pass when Gareth called after them. “These are dangerous lands. You’ll never make it south of the mountains if you don’t tell me where they are.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

They kept walking.

“The Baron doesn’t wish to make an enemy of your people,” Gareth continued, now following.

“If you intend to follow us all the way to Draegor’s Keep, that will not go well for you,” Ryak said. “I intend to inform the Church of Light of your presence.”

“That won’t matter in the end, Iceborne. Besides, if they decide to take action against us, that would break the agreement, right?"

There was silence for the next five minutes as they ignored them, setting a fast pace. Gareth and Wolfram followed about fifty paces behind.

Kargan sighed. This would get old fast.

“What are we going to do?” Kargan asked. “Do you think he’s really going to kill your tribe?”

Ryak shook his head. “They don’t have time to do that if they really want to catch Justin. It’s an empty threat.”

“You don’t think he really wants an extended truce?”

Ryak was silent for a moment. “I’m not sure. It’s possible he does, and if so, then Justin and the rest made an even bigger mistake than I thought.”

“Why would he change his mind?” Kargan asked.

Ryak shrugged. “Well, he’s failed repeatedly to capture him. Perhaps he reasoned he couldn’t catch him in time, especially as we get closer to Aranthia.”

“Maybe,” Kargan said, unconvinced.

At some point, though, they would figure out it had something to do with the Aurora Caverns. Ryak had slipped up, revealing that they had been near Kythralis.

From there, it would be quite easy to retrace their steps. In theory.

And as far as Gareth’s threat, Kargan believed Ryak was right. It was empty.

That was when a high, rattling screech sounded from the sky.

On instinct, Kargan cast Blood Aegis while Ryak wielded his staff. For a moment, something blocked out the sun. As Kargan looked up at the source’s blue-scaled form, his jaw dropped.

“Ice drake,” Kargan said.

“Run!” Ryak said.

The caverns were too far behind. Instead, they raced for an outcrop that might provide shelter.

But his heart sank as he realized the drake was going into a dive, right for them.

They couldn’t escape this. Not unless they had Gareth and Wolfram’s help.

But strangely, those two were standing in the open, without a care in the world.

The drake was ignoring them, and instead seemed to head directly for Kargan and Ryak.

Kargan refreshed his armor spells, ready to cast Knives of Fury in the space directly above them.

It was their only shot.

As the drake neared, he was about to cast the spell, but something stopped him.

The drake screeched, easily veering by spreading its wings aloft. And as it alighted on a nearby boulder, Kargan recognized the truth.

This was no ordinary drake. It was...

“Vorthryn?”

The drake had tattered wings and dark violet magic pulsating from its still-open wounds. The monster’s formerly violet eyes now shone with gray, undead light.

And worse, Valdrik sat on the beast’s back, perfectly at ease between two of its spikes. He gave a perfectly satisfactory smile.

If Kargan had cast that spell, the Creator might have counted that as an attack. He had been that close to losing it all.

Up close, Kargan felt terror at the sight before him. There had been a terrible beauty to Vorthyrn before. But her scales, once dark blue with shades of amethyst, had transformed to an undead gray. Scores of wounds, shallow and deep, only added to the sense of wrongness. The wings were tattered, her movements jerky, as dark magic radiated from her form in erratic bursts.

But that wasn’t even the worst bit. It was the smell: sickly and sweet, carried on the chilly wind.

She let out a bone-rattling shriek, broken and rattled as if her larynx had been ripped. The breath it evoked was so foul that it made Kargan want to faint.

“Why, hello there!” Valdrik said amiably. “So, what do you think of my noble request?”

Kargan found himself at a loss. This...this was beyond all imagination. Now it all made sense. How they had gotten ahead. How the Baron had covered so much ground.

He had somehow reanimated a bloody ice drake.

Which meant he could make good on Gareth’s threat regarding Ryak’s tribe.

If Justin had come with them, the Gentleman’s Agreement wouldn’t even matter. After ten more days, this thing could hit them from just about anywhere.

The question was, why wait to reveal the drake until now? Maybe the Baron wanted to keep it hidden, if possible. But when they refused to speak to Gareth, he had to show his cards.

“What do you want?” Ryak asked.

“Your help. I am tired of this fight, so I just need to reach Justin so I can work out a deal with him. Gareth has informed me that Justin is as good as dead. But you have no actual confirmation.”

Kargan wondered how Gareth had relayed that message. Perhaps, as Valdrik’s undead thrall, he could communicate telepathically or something.

Valdrik waited patiently. “Well? I don’t want this to get ugly. All I want is Justin, and not to kill him. My plans have...changed.”

“Changed, how?” Kargan asked.

Valdrik’s gray eyes flicked toward him. “Originally, I wanted to work with Justin, but he has proven to be most disagreeable. I’ve done some thinking, and his new skill allows for an arrangement that allows us to live and let live, when before mutual distrust would have made it impossible. I’ve been away from Silverton too long, and while Justin and I can’t be friends, we can at least not be enemies.” His gaze returned to Ryak. “Of course, I would need this agreement in the next eight days. Before the original one expires. But if you can’t tell me where Justin is, then that makes this impossible, doesn’t it?”

Ryak remained silent. As for Kargan, he wondered how he expected to get this undead drake south of the Seraphims with no one noticing. Or to even keep it by Silverton with no one seeing it.

Whatever the Baron’s words, this drake wasn’t leaving the north.

“As you no doubt realize,” Valdrik continued, “I am quite fast on this drake. Even faster when I’m flying alone. As you know, your village is about two hundred miles from here. I can easily reach it in four hours. Even less if the winds are with us.”

Valdrik waited for Ryak to react, but Kargan could tell he had him. The Iceborne cared for nothing more than his tribe.

And who was Kargan to tell Ryak not to do anything he could to save them?

“If you have Vorthyrn as your thrall,” Ryak said, “then you must already know where Justin has gone.”

“Yes, the caverns,” Valdrik said. “He must still be in there, but it’s like a maze. As you well know.” He leaned forward. “I need to know exactly where he has gone. And then our business is done. I have no reason to attack either of you. Clearly, you’ve had some sort of falling out. If Justin is dead, that’s a fact I need to confirm for myself.”

“Why should we tell you?” Kargan asked. “How can we trust you to keep your word?”

“I don’t have time for chasing both you and Justin,” Valdrik said. “By the time I get around to it, you will be long gone. I just need your word you won’t stick your noses in my business again. As for Justin, he will never forgive me for what happened to Alistair. That was unfortunate business, but I had no choice. I try not to kill. It’s never the ultimate answer you think it is, because the dead have a knack for living on, if only in memory.”

“Perhaps that’s what will happen if you do anything to hurt my village,” Ryak said. “Did you consider that?”

“I have. And yet, I’ve been pushed into a corner. I just want everyone to leave me to my plans. I can’t do that unless I take care of Justin or make a binding agreement with him. I’d prefer the latter.”

There was a silence as Ryak considered this. It would have to be his choice. There was nothing the Baron could do to Kargan, but Ryak had everything to lose.

Kargan wondered if the Baron’s change of plans had anything to do with his new toy. Probably, though he couldn’t imagine why.

After a minute had passed, Valdrik shifted. “Come, Vorthyrn. To the sky.”

“Wait.”

The Baron looked at Ryak inquisitively. His hand twitched on his staff.

“Soon after you enter the caverns from the north,” Ryak said, slowly, softly, “there’s a shaft.”

“Yes, I remember seeing it. Which passage did they take? There were dozens to choose from and it would take years to map them all. Now keep in mind, I have a skill that can determine your sincerity. If anything comes out of your mouth that isn’t the truth, you will regret it.”

Ryak hesitated, clearly trying to draw this out as much as possible. “They…went to the bottom. There’s a labyrinth of sorts there, but it leads to the upper part of Zanthera. There’s a tower. You can’t miss it.”

Valdrik watched him closely. “And that’s where you parted ways?”

Ryak nodded.

“And why didn’t you go with them? What was down there?”

Ryak shrugged. “They found this compass in a Vault in the caverns. It’s description said it leads to great treasure. The compass was pointing toward the tower, so that’s where they went.”

“Your words are true,” Valdrik said. “Except you’re leaving out some essential information.”

Ryak remained silent.

“Speak!” Valdrik commanded.

Kargan had an inkling of what Ryak was doing. If Valdrik truly had a skill that detected falsehoods, then it was likely limited in how often it could be used. And once it was used, it would only last for a certain length of time, or once it had determined the truth of a few statements.

It was a guess, but maybe that spoke to the Baron’s desperation.

“I cannot tell you anything more,” Ryak said. “If you want to find them, start there.”

The Baron considered this for a moment. If they left immediately on the drake, they could probably be at the northern entrance in a few hours. And assuming no other interruptions, they would arrive on the outskirts of Zanthera by the end of the day, or perhaps early morning tomorrow.

That was if they hurried. It had been three days since they had parted ways with Justin, so Kargan’s only hope was that they had actually found the gate.

Unless the Baron had a means of following, they were far away from here. Best case, Valdrik ran into a dead end, and had no way of tracking down either of them.

Kargan wondered why the Baron simply didn’t compel them to reveal the full truth about the gate, but Valdrik probably didn’t want to risk the Creator’s wrath. It wasn’t an attack, per se, but it might be considered such by the Creator.

“I thank you for your help,” the Baron said stiffly. “Wolfram! Gareth! To me.”

Obediently, his two underlings approached the undead drake, whose vacant stare made Kargan’s skin crawl.

With a final, inscrutable look, the drake turned and leaped into the air, flapping its wings madly while screeching. That thing was so damn loud that Justin knew Valdrik had no hope of taking it south of the mountains. Even going too close to Kaldrath would be a dangerous move. Surely, a few isolated people had already noted its presence.

“Let’s continue,” Ryak said, his voice somber.

Kargan nodded. With Ryak’s tribe in question, this couldn’t have gone any other way.

As they continued on, Kargan fought for what to say. He wondered what he would have done in Ryak’s situation.

Probably the same thing. Kargan’s tusks protruded in thought as he watched the drake disappear over the northern ridge.

“You did the best you could,” Kargan said.

It was a while before Ryak responded. “I try to do the right thing. But men like the Baron have a way of getting good people to do evil things. And if he can do that enough, he can twist someone until they no longer recognize themselves.”

Kargan considered this. It was something he hadn’t thought of before. During his days in the tribe, there was Gor’Thaak and nothing else. Anything off that path was heresy.

And yet he’d learned a lot since leaving the Durzag Clan. Good and bad was a spectrum. And sometimes both.

“Hope they found that gate,” Kargan finished.

“Me, too. Nothing else we could have done.”

With those last words, they headed southeast through the valley.