“Open the door.”
“Huh?”
“Open the door.”
“The captain said—”
“Forget the captain.” Lawrence looked at Gnat. He met the demon’s eyes and held them. Gnat had yellow, beady eyes. He squinted at Lawrence as if trying to make up his mind. Lawrence added, “You want to stand outside here forever? Or d’you wanna… go get some respect?”
Gnat pulled the chain. Lawrence took out his buckler and gladius. The door opened outward. A low-ranking fiend stood guard. He approached with a drawn sword.
“Human. The captain said you might try to get in. He said I have permission to—”
Lawrence batted the sword aside. Stepping forward, he raised the gladius to swing. He moved his hips in the same motion. The fiend flapped his wings once and jerked back. The sword missed his throat by inches. Lawrence stepped forward with his left foot and brought the buckler’s edge in. He punched the demon square in the gut.
“Oof.” The demon staggered. “You’ll pay—”
Lawrence slashed. A spray of arterial blood Dadaistically decorated the iron door. The demon grabbed its throat. It dropped the weapon. Lawrence kicked the sword away. He kicked the dying demon aside.
“Gnat. Take me to the lord of the fortress. Please.”
“Yes, master.” Gnat flew ahead of him. Lawrence lit the lantern. Instead of wandering the maze, Gnat took a direct path. He led Lawrence up several flights of stairs and hallways. It was a mess, but not as bad as before. Lawrence thought much of the labyrinth was redundant on purpose to confuse attackers.
“We have arrived, sorcerer.” Gnat stopped before a door of crude iron. He rapped it with his fist.
“Who is it?” the door cracked. An irritated voice emanated. Gnat hesitated. He looked at Lawrence for instruction.
“Sorcerer Lawrence,” Lawrence announced. He motioned. Gnat scurried out of the way. The door opened more. A sexy, curvy, nude woman stood in the doorway. She had little horns coming out of her forehead and a pair of small leathery wings. A succubus.
Over her shoulder, Lawrence saw a horned, armored giant with bone plates coming out of its shoulders and back. It lounged on a sagging bedframe without pants. Not that Lawrence could see anything. Three more slaves—all human with a string of mutations—draped themselves around the monster. A sword taller and wider than Lawrence leaned against the wall.
“Who are you, and what are you doing in my fortress?”
Lawrence entered. He bowed. He told the demon a story. Not a complicated yarn, a simple thread zigzagging between the school and the fortress. He left out nothing. He explained his reasoning for draining the prisoners’ stats. He paused at the end, but the lord said nothing. To fill the air, Lawrence plowed ahead with his ideas.
The entire time the lord said nothing. His expression revealed nothing. He waited for Lawrence to finish. Eventually, Lawrence ran out of things to say. He thought he had been succinct. Even eloquent. But the demon lord was an unknown quantity.
“I will sanction this challenge,” the giant declared. “Imp. Find Captain Aggh and bring him to the battlements. Human. With me.”
The giant rose. He dressed himself in steel plate armor. He picked up his weapon. Lawrence stepped aside so the giant could leave. The entire time, the youngest of the succubi played with her boobs right in front of him. Lawrence stared. When the giant was ready, he stomped down the hall.
“Come human.”
“Come back to us, sorcerer,” the succubus called. Her voice was honey-sweet. “Come back and play.”
Lawrence wanted to go back. Oh, he wanted more than anything to sink into her embrace. But he had a headache. The pounding pain in his head checked his libido.
The demon lord led Lawrence to the battlements. Another airship had docked. Imps swarmed over the rigging like ants. Every demon in the fortress crowded the battlements. Captain Aggh waited. He’d polished his armor. His weapon shone.
The demon lord towered over everyone, even the giants. He held up his hand for silence. All motion and talking stopped. He moved to the side. His sword divided the space between Lawrence and the captain. Lawrence put away the gladius. He put the buckler down. He reached under his shirt for one of the weapons he kept hidden.
“Blah blah blah.” The giant lord lifted his sword out of the way. “Fight.”
The captain stirred. He stared in confusion when he saw Lawrence kneeling.
“You’re surrendering?” the fiend sounded incredulous. “There’s no—”
Lawrence drew an M1911 and fired once. He shot the demon right between the eyes. From his position, the bullet arced up over the heads of the demons standing behind. It flew between the armored air sacks of the dirigible and the deck. It sailed into the valley where it would land without hurting anyone else. The fiend, Captain Aggh, collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
“Done.” Lawrence put his sidearm away. He collected his weapons and stood. He bowed low. “My lord.”
“That was quick.” The lord snorted. “All right vermin. You know the rule. Meet your new captain. Captain Lawrence the sorcerer.”
Not a single voice cheered. A scorching wind blew off the mountains.
“Captain Lawrence has a plan to eliminate the mercenary camp. He claims to know how to drive this contraption. Let all who wish to gamble their lives on a mortal board the ship. Let all who wish to engage in this act of daring do so. I will be in my quarters. Dismissed.”
The giant stomped back inside. Lawrence felt the ground quake with every step. Lower-ranking demons stripped the dead fiend’s gear. Belatedly, Lawrence realized draining its stats was a lost opportunity. Oh well. There would be others. He looked around with an expectant, yet nervous smile.
The battlements emptied. Lawrence looked around. Only Gnat remained.
“I guess it’s just you and me, huh?”
“No, captain. It’s just you. This is suicide. This is where our partnership ends.”
“What?” Lawrence frowned. “Why?”
“Because you will fail.” Gnat jumped up to perch on the wall so it was eye-level with Lawrence. “If you go, you lack the numbers to succeed. No doubt they have more fiends. If you stay here you will lose all respect. You will be a captain in name only. Leaders lead from the front. You will be assassinated in your first engagement, or perhaps before it. Captain Aggh was not the only captain in the keep. He had friends. Near as much as any demon can call them friends.”
Lawrence’s mouth was open. He closed it. He extended his hand.
“We had a good run. Partner. Mind if I ask what happened to all the money we made?”
“Someone claimed it. Someone else tried to duel them for it. A major took it for his own.” Gnat shook his hand. “I saw not a penny. Goodbye.”
“Hey—before you go. Um. Can I promote you? To Companyfellow, I mean.”
“Technically yes, but no one would believe it.” Gnat tapped his head. “One requires the basic Company Skill: War Crown. As neither of us do, the rank is a formality.”
“Oh.” Lawrence realized then what a farce this whole thing was. “So… I’m in way over my head then, huh?”
Gnat nodded. “You should go back to the school while you have a chance. Kill that aide. It is not too late to run. You will never lead or fight again, but you will survive.”
The imp flapped his wings. He flew away. Lawrence watched him go.
Alone on the battlements, he squared his shoulders. He marched on board. When he tapped the prisoners for mental stats, he gained some of their memories. The act was dark magic. Several alien cultures considered draining mental stats and memories illegal. Punishments included death. Anyway, Lawrence reviewed the memories taken from the prisoners. He knew how to cast off. He knew how to start the engines. He knew how to control the steering.
He did all those things and more. He loaded the guns. He found a warm updraft and let it carry the airship away from the fortress. A sea of jagged mountains and plunging gorges sprawled in both directions. The ring ran in a circle and Lawrence stood on the inner band. The opposite side ran overhead like Halo.
The remaining rings hovered in one direction. They grew progressively smaller until reaching Pandemonium. Lawrence knew the city technically sat on a floor. Each of the rings rose above it like an inverted cone. Gravity functioned different in the Maelstrom. Between the rings, the Morningstar bobbed up and down like a cork. It had already reached its journey’s zenith. It began its slow descent. Each ring would have a second noon. Tempest had its noon, now, as Lawrence discovered. The temperature still climbed.
It climbed steadily as the airship rose. Soon Lawrence unzipped his robes, but that didn’t work as much as he thought it would.
He steered the airship through the peaks. Fortresses and spiderwebs dotted the mountains. Demons with spider-Skills scurried from place to place. As the ship passed overhead, they all ran and hid. Lawrence felt a perverse sense of power. It was all stolen; they’d board him and kill him in a heartbeat if they knew how vulnerable he was.
He spotted Thug Swarm’s base from a long way off. It wasn’t a real fortress, more like a handful of towers clinging to the sloping top of a plateau. The base’s advantage was its location. It had a valley on three sides with a good road. Lawrence saw a single airship docked.
He brought the airship around so the starboard, or right side, faced the base. He was still a few hundred feet up. He stopped the engines. His idea was to fire the cannons one by one and hopefully hit the other airship. Maybe disable or damage it enough it couldn’t fly. Then he could approach the base at his leisure shooting shot and hellfire. As soon as he stepped away from the controls, the airship’s wheel spun.
Even with the engines off the ship moved. The wind was constant in Tempest. Lawrence gave up his elaborate plan. He restarted the engines. He found a peak with a jutting boulder. He dropped an anchor. He dragged it along the peak until it lodged. He cut the engines again. The wind blew the ship away from the peak, but the anchor tethered.
Lawrence watched for a while. When he was certain the ship wouldn’t crash, he drew his circle. He lit several candles. The airship had a supply of iliaster in the hold. The demons had piled crate upon crate full of the stuff, enough for multiple raids anywhere. As he was no demon, Lawrence ignited a soul brazier. He attuned it to the boxes and placed it next to the circle. The brazier would draw the iliaster and allow him to use it. The brazier burned hot as he chanted.
He began with Greater Preparation. He followed with a Hanging spell and then Hellfire. Hanging would allow the hellfire spell to work but put on pause until the right time. Without Hanging, a hellfire spell or any other would cast immediately. If Lawrence was enchanting an item, then Hanging wouldn’t be needed. But faustian sorcery’s long casting times made everything inconvenient. Knowing and using the Hanging Ritual was invaluable.
Lawrence spent the rest of the night and most of the next morning casting. The Morningstar finished its descent. It rose again. Lawrence did not doze. He kept working. Spell after spell. Chant after chant. Drop by drop, the iliaster burned.
The Morningstar reached its zenith before he finished. Lawrence collapsed on the ground in a heap. He went to the captain’s quarters to take a nap. The demon who owned the ship had some nice stuff. Sadly, Lawrence could take little. His pockets were shallow. He had no bag of holding. His weapons were better.
Lawrence took a drink of water and ate some hard tack he had in his pocket. Both came from the adventuring kit. Neither tasted good, but they were better than nothing.
Lawrence checked everything once more. When he was certain, he hauled up the anchor. He fired up the engines. He motored back to the base. The airship was gone, but that was okay. Lawrence didn’t think he’d be coming back from this trip.
“Feeling confident?” Lawrence asked the boat.
“Not really,” it admitted. The rigging creaked in agreement.
“We can always go back.” Lawrence let the boat descend. “It’s not too late.”
“The only way is forward,” the ship replied.
“Hey. You never told me your name.” Lawrence heard a shout. Demons on the battlements waved. Lawrence drove the ship straight on, not alongside. Instead of docking, he steered as if he was doing a flyby over their heads.
“I don’t have one,” the ship told him. “They never gave me one. What’s yours?”
“Who me?” Lawrence smiled, a little uncomfortable. “My name’s not important.”
He passed over the courtyard. A large group of demons milled about, eager to see. Lawrence dropped the bundle tied to the stern of the boat. All the crates and barrels of explosives tumbled down. They slammed into the courtyard with a mighty crash.
“Hellfire,” Lawrence intoned. A ball of greenish-black flames appeared in his palm. It shot down as if fired by a cannon, straight into the mass of black powder.
Lawrence shoved the throttle forward. The airship rocketed away. An incredible explosion rocked the mountains. Lawrence felt his ears pop. He was glad he’d thought to bring ear plugs. He should have put them in before firing the rifle. His ears still rang from those two shots. He pulled back on the throttle and turned hard. The ship came about in a wide arc. He lined up the hull with the dock. Not next to the dock, where he was supposed to go.
He aimed on top, where all the angry and confused demons stood. Lawrence pushed the throttle a little to keep the ship moving forward. He cut the engine a moment later and turned the entire ship sideways a few degrees.
“What are you doing?” the ship demanded.
“We need to bleed off speed and velocity before we land.” Lawrence smiled. The demons on the battlements were big. They gestured at the mooring pylons. More demons spilled out from the keep. They crowded the limited space on the dock. “Hold on, buddy. This is gonna hurt.”
Lawrence started the engines. He nudged the throttle forward. He pushed the altitude lever forward, turning the nose down. He repositioned the prow at the same time. By now, the smartest of the demons realized what was about to happen.
But most did not. The smart ones tried to flee. The dumb ones were in the way. The airship dropped out of the sky in a controlled fall. The keel dragged along the rough stone like a bulldozer. Like a rolling pin, the ship crushed dozens of demons before it came to a halt.
Lawrence pulled a string he’d rigged. All the cannons fired grapeshot at the same time. The fiends and imps hovering over the fortress got turned into shredded meat. One second they were there, the next they vanished in a haze of red. Lawrence heard screaming.
He looked over the side. Most of the demons lay dead. Lawrence raised his hands. He cleared a path using hellfire. He had his M1911. He had seven rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber. Demons began swarming up the ship. Instead of running off, Lawrence retreated. He shot the demons as they came over the rail.
“One demon, one shot,” he told the ship. The next thirty seconds were violence. Lawrence reloaded twice. He had two loaded magazines and a box of 50 rounds. He retreated to the captain’s cabin. He barred the door to reload.
“We know you’re in there.” Something heavy hit the door. “You can’t hide.”
“Give up your guns and we’ll let you live,” a different voice claimed.
“I don’t have any guns,” Lawrence shouted back. He crouched by the wall, a good six feet from the door. “Guns are baaad.”
A few bullets shot through the door at chest height.
“Maybe you should shoot out the lock,” Lawrence yelled.
“Hey good idea bro.” The demon shot two bullets into the steel lock. Instead of penetrating, Lawrence heard a surprised yelp.
“Hey, did it ricochet?” Lawrence called. He crept forward to the door. He readied his one grenade.
“Yeah! And now there’s shrapnel in my eye.”
Lawrence unlocked the door. He heard a giggle and paused.
“I’m gonna open the door,” a demon whispered. “You toss the grenade.”
“Got it.”
Lawrence gaped. They had to know he’d have heard them, right? The knob twisted with enough force to break the lock. A scaly fist shoved the door open a few inches. A black pineapple grenade from WW2 rolled through. Lawrence slapped it back outside before the door closed. He put his foot next to the door and braced it with his shoulder.
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“Oh—” BOOM.
“Good idea, bro,” Lawrence snickered. There was much screaming outside. He’d save his grenade for later.
Lawrence cracked the door. Broken bodies littered the deck. Smoke blew from somewhere nearby. Part of the deck was on fire. Lawrence saw demons and mortal servants branded with Thug Swarm’s logo: a minimalist fiend. It consisted of a single narrow column with a pair of lines connected to the top, curving downward. A minute pair of arms stuck out sideways from the column. Ugly, but simple. The demons and their servants bore actual brands. Not badges.
The Usurpers were a young corporation. They had no company Skills for the rank-and-file. Their Noble Skills were all pillaged.
He peered out. Nothing moved. Lawrence readied his handgun. He pushed the door open. He exited the room. More bodies littered the deck.
“Mortal. Die,” an imp screeched.
Lawrence shot it in the chest. The imp fell to the dock. Lawrence holstered his weapon to draw his sword. He slashed the imp’s throat. He made his way to the rail. Some of the demons still twitched. Lawrence cut their throats. He jumped down from the ship and made his way inside.
More bodies littered the ground. Gunpowder suffused the air. Mixed with it was the smell of humans who’d pooped their pants. Lawrence found several more demons inside, dying. He put them out of their misery.
The keep was smaller than he expected. It had a storehouse with a jail. Instead of a throne room it had a barracks-style tenement for the demons to sleep. They did not require luxuries or things like running water. They had a torture chamber for souls. They collected their ration of iliaster from a feeding trough.
Lawrence found the lord of the outpost hiding in the basement. It was a drone. It was larger than a level one giant, though it wore little armor. It had its arm around a copper-skinned succubus. She had no wings. Low-level? She was beautiful.
“Who are you?” the drone asked.
“My name’s not important. I’m the guy who blew up your base.”
“Just you? You alone? Where is your army?”
“Don’t have one.” Lawrence looked around to make sure no one came up behind him. He put away the gladius to draw his handgun. He held it with both hands. “The lord said I could do a raid myself, if I found anyone to follow me. None volunteered, so I came alone.”
“You’re foolish.”
“Yep.” Lawrence lined up a shot with the demon’s head.
“I yield.” The drone knelt. “I swear a Contract with you, servant of Blood Well. I will send a supply of iliaster and crowns to your lord’s castle as tribute.”
“Why should I trust either of you?”
“I swear to serve, milord.” The succubus knelt. She wore a tube top and a sarong. If Lawrence was honest… He shook his head. Danger, Will Robinson. Danger.
“What are your names?”
“Goath,” said the drone.
“Kyri,” said the succubus.
“Goath. Swear a seventy-five strength Contract to send a portion of your profits to the Blood Well fortress nearby. Let me leave here with mine and my plunder. Allow no member or ship of your company or corporation to follow me or seek retribution against me or my kind. Do all this, and I’ll spare your life.”
The demon bared its teeth. Lawrence chanted under his breath. He activated one of the spells he had prepared. The succubus looked between them as their wills clashed. Sparks shot through the air. Pressure emanated outward from both of them. Lawrence felt as if a great weight pressed down his shoulders. He struggled to stand even as the demon struggled.
“Iliaster Burst,” Lawrence intoned. The drone flinched. It screamed once as all the iliaster in its body exploded. Pieces of its gut blasted across the room. Lawrence felt the pressure ease. He doubled down. The demon lord’s knees hit the ground. Still, the lord fought.
Lawrence pressed outward with all his will. A bolt of lightning flashed and hit one of the wrought-iron torch sconces. The smell of ozone filled the air. Slowly, the demon prostrated. Lawrence kept pushing. The drone’s obese body flattened across the floor. Its face mashed against the stone.
“Yield,” Lawrence shouted. The demon growled. Lawrence raised his voice, “Yield or die.”
“I yield,” the succubus screamed. Lawrence glanced sideways. She was flat. Flatter than the drone. She had a look of anguish. Hot, angry tears filled her eyes. “I yield. Please don’t kill me.”
“Sell me your soul,” Lawrence shouted without thinking. “A one-hundred-strength contract. Swear it now.”
The succubus moaned through clenched teeth. Even on the edge she refused to bend. Lawrence saw movement. The distraction allowed the drone to break free. The monster rushed Lawrence.
“Shi—” Lawrence fired all eight rounds. He hit the demon in its head and neck. It collapsed at his feet. That was too close. The pressure vanished. He shifted back to the succubus. She pressed her forehead against the ground.
“P-p-p-puhleeze, master,” she sobbed. “Please let me live. I-I I promise—I swear—on my life, I can make you feel so good.”
“Be quiet.” Lawrence’s mind cleared. Conviction filled him. He chanted another battle of wills. Pressure began emanating. “Swear a one-hundred strength contract. Anything I want. Your mind, body, and soul belong to me.”
“It is as you say.” The demoness raised her head. She didn’t cry. She didn’t tremble. Her eyes were clear. And they hated. “I swear to serve you always, mortal. Whatever you say. However you command.”
Lawrence exhaled. He looked around once more. The lord was dead. No other demons were present.
“Is anyone else still alive?”
“A collection of damned is in the cells.” The demoness shifted to a kneeling position. She took a deep breath. “There may be a few drones left. Most are dead. Or out on patrol.”
“A’ight.” Lawrence lowered his weapon. He flipped the safety on. He walked around the dead demon to look behind the chair the drone had been using. He found a few boxes of actual sugar. Next to it was a treasure chest full of silver crowns. A small pouch containing a few gold obols. And one cask containing Hell’s version of wine.
“The stone is digging into my knees,” the succubus complained.
“You can stand if you want.”
“Thank you,” the demoness said, sarcastically. She got up. “What are you going to do with me? I can make you very happy.”
“What level are you? Don’t lie.”
“I am level one, master.”
“Usurpers don’t have a corporate Skill group do they?” Lawrence pocketed the gold. “Did you grab the Breed Physiology or a random mutation Skill at level one?”
“You can see my status on the party screen master,” the succubus folded her arms. “You own me, now. It should come up next to yours.”
“Ah, yes,” Lawrence lied. He pretended to study an invisible window in the air.
“You can’t see it, can you?”
Busted.
Lawrence looked away. He tried to come up with a convincing lie, but his mind went blank. The succubus’s mouth slowly opened. Her eyes widened.
“You don’t have access to the Program? How then have you survived?”
Lawrence looked down. He picked up one end of the chest and heaved. It moved, but not much.
“Uhhhgh.”
Lawrence whirled. The drone lord raised its head.
“How are you not dead?” Lawrence shouted.
“Uhhhhhhh.” It began standing.
Lawrence raised his gun. He changed his mind and brought out his gladius. He saw the succubus standing there and changed his mind again. He jerked his head.
“Woman. Kill him.”
The succubus jumped over to the drone. She had claws. They were not the over-sized, Skill-upgraded kind. Just regular biology. She dug in and ripped the drone’s spine out. Too late, Lawrence realized he should have Energy Tapped the drone. Oh well. The drone gasped. Ichor ran across the ground. It relaxed.
“Did you level up?”
“I have had enough experience to ascend to the next level for some time, master. I have not because iliaster has always been my concern.”
Lawrence came over. He motioned for the demoness to move. He rammed the sword through the demon’s back until he was certain he’d pierced the heart.
“What are your orders, master?”
“What was your name again? You told me right?” He shook his head. “Sorry, I—forgot.”
“Kyri.”
“Right. Sorry. I’ll try ‘n remember that.”
“What do you want, master?” Kyri tilted her hips. “Do you want to have sex?”
“Not particularly. Not right now, anyway,” Lawrence said, even as his eyes roamed her body. “I need you to help me get this treasure up onto the boat. If we can’t lift the box, we’ll use sacks. We’ll take the sugar too. I can use it.”
“You’re going to use me as general labor?” Kyri did not look pleased.
“I wasn’t going to use you at all. I don’t need a slave, or even a cubus,” Lawrence complained. “I was going to have the drone give you to me as a present, then pass you along to my boss for favor. I guess I won’t be doing that now.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I dunno yet.” Lawrence took a deep breath. “Look. I’m in over my head here. I just want to stay alive right now. I just took out an entire base by myself. If you work with me, we can both profit from this.” He stopped talking. Something his father said occurred to him. He gave the demoness a measuring look. “What is it you want?”
“Power.” She shifted her weight.
“That’s it? Just power?”
“Just power. The struggle of all my kind.”
“All right. Power. Sure. I can’t promise I can give you power. But I can promise that working with me, you can parlay it into a better position. My lord is stronger than this one.”
“Fair enough.” The succubus extended a hand. “My name is Kyri. What was your name again?”
“I’m no one.” Lawrence shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Kyri.”
“You still have not answered my question, master. How have you survived? It should not be possible.”
Lawrence hesitated. He couldn’t speak. Admitting he wasn’t on the Program was like admitting he wasn’t potty-trained. His cheeks burned.
“I bust my butt to make up the difference,” he mumbled.
Kyri stared. She raised and lowered her head. “Hard work. Sure, why not.”
“Don’t lie to me, betray me, or stab me in the back.”
“You want me to be your squeeze toy, right? You’re just like all the rest.” Kyri sniffed.
“Probly gonna be dead in a couple days,” Lawrence mused. He cleaned his sword. He checked his weapons. “Maybe tomorrow. Might not make it back at all. Eh, what d’you care? You’ll throw yourself at the first demon you see. They’ll kill me and take you as a trophy.”
“Enough.” Kyri sniffed. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to help me load as much of this as we can. The crowns first, then the barrel if we have time. D’you know what’s in it?”
“Agony.” Kyri grabbed one of the handles on the chest. She heaved, but it didn’t budge. “The wine of hell. This is ridiculous. Neither of us are strong enough to lift this. You should have bound the drone when it was alive.”
“Too late now. Look around for a sack. Anything you can find we can use to carry stuff.” Lawrence rummaged through the crates and boxes.
“I will not.” Kyri put her hands on her hips. “I am an earl’s perfumed plaything, not a mortal boy’s servant. I bet you’ve never even had sex.”
Lawrence blushed.
“You haven’t, have you?”
“Give me your status.” Lawrence couldn’t look anywhere in her direction. “I, uh, need to see what your stats are.”
Kyri snorted. “They’re on the party screen. Oh wait. Yeah, I’m not writing them down. I don’t know how to read.”
“You mean you don’t know how to spell,” Lawrence corrected. He gave up. He was pretty sure she was just being difficult. Demons crawled into existence as adults knowing everything required for survival. Including how to read. Well, if she wanted to be difficult, that was fine. He’d have to put up with her a little while longer. Once the Bloody’s lord saw her he’d steal, rape, and enslave her. Perhaps not in that order. Regardless, Lawrence would be free.
He filled a bag with silver. It was heavier—much heavier—than he thought. He had to make several trips. He kept the gold in his pocket. He was able to get about half the chest of silver, which was still a huge amount. He picked up one crate of sugar. Where the demons got processed sugarcane he didn’t know.
He went back to the ship. Kyri followed. She avoided stepping in any pools of blood. The carnage didn’t seem to faze her. Lawrence paused in the act of climbing aboard.
“Whatever happens, don’t reveal I’m not on the Program.”
“Why not?” Kyri challenged. “What are you going to do?”
“Lady, I really don’t care where you go or what you do.” He made a shooing motion. “You want to run? Go ahead. Go. Shoo. Keep your mouth shut about my secrets and we’ll call it even.”
“You really don’t want to sleep with me?” Kyri arched an eyebrow. She pulled her top down. “I didn’t take my Breed Physiology Skill at level. I took Perform Sexual Techniques. I’ve maxed it. I can show you heights of pleasure most mortals can only dream.”
“Darlin’, I’ve seen better.” Lawrence yawned. “Bore-ring.”
Kyri blinked. Her face flushed. She bared her teeth like a dog about to bite.
“I don’t need a sex slave.” Lawrence turned his back on her. She had to obey the contract; she couldn’t backstab him. He climbed over the rail. He scanned the sky for threats. Seeing none, he went up to the captain’s chair. He started the engines.
“Hey,” Kyri shouted. Lawrence looked up. She stood on the deck, topless, with her top bunched up in her hand. Spittle flew from her mouth. “My breasts are perfect.”
“I’ve seen better,” Lawrence said, indifferent. He wondered if there was a way to spin this to his advantage. He eased the throttle forward toward the rabbit icon. He pulled back on the altitude lever at the same time. The airship’s prow lifted. The keel ground along the battlement.
“You haven’t seen anything like me,” Kyri yelled. “I have the Skill. It’s maxed. I’m the best lay in Maelstrom.”
“If you were the best lay,” Lawrence met her eye. “You’d be entertaining some Lord down on the Seventh. Instead you’re here. Must not have been very good at your job, then, huh?”
“For your information, boy, I was betrayed.” Kyri stepped forward. She braced herself against the rail as the ship yawed. “I was climbing the social ladder when another cubus claimed I crossed her.”
“Did you?”
“That’s beside the point,” she snapped. “She sent me here as punishment. It’s not because I was bad at my job. I was really good at my job. I was better than her. She got jealous.”
“Mmm.” Lawrence pretended to ignore her.
“Stop ignoring me,” she shouted. “I am talking.”
“Lady, d’you want to drive the boat?”
“No.”
“Then go away. I’m busy.”
Kyri gaped. She fumed. She closed her mouth. She turned around and marched away.
“You know,” she called over her shoulder. “Cubi used to go without clothes under their cloaks. Wearing full outfits is a fad. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Lawrence did not know how to answer. He shook his head. He had his hands full with driving the boat. He put the cubus out of his mind. She was a problem. She knew too much, and she could see right through him.
Kyri marched up to the bow. She found a cannon not completely covered in gore and grease. She sat with her back to it and pulled her knees up to her chest.
“What do I do, boat?” Lawrence muttered at the rigging. “She’s a problem. And for some reason her contract is weaker than it should be. Must I kill her?”
“You need to learn her Status,” the ship muttered back. “You can’t trust her. She disobeyed a direct order after selling her soul. Find out why. If you cannot, eliminate her and move on.”
“She’s really pretty though,” Lawrence mumbled. He steered the ship around a peak. While pretending to be indifferent, he was as far from it as could be.
“This is about survival,” the ship reminded him. “There will be time for pleasure later. There’s always time. Right now, we need to work.”
Lawrence brought the ship alongside Blood Well’s battlements. He killed the engines. He jumped out of the captain’s seat and threw one of the thick mooring ropes around a crenellation. He ran down to the bow of the boat. He pulled another mooring rope and looped it around a crenellation.
In a normal boat against a water dock, Lawrence would lower some oil or air-filled balloons to wedge between the dock and the hull. They would protect the hull from grinding on the dock. No doubt this dirigible had something similar. Lawrence debated looking, but no. It was no longer his ship. He doubted Blood Well would keep it.
He went back to the captain’s quarters. He pilfered a clean shirt and some other valuables he may be able to pawn or trade. Buried in the desk he found a map of Thug Swarm’s fortresses. Under it was a secret compartment. Lawrence pressed down on the rear of the drawer’s base to pop the lid. A handful of gold. A flask of agony. Lawrence pocketed the gold. He took the flask on deck.
“Hey, uh, Kyri?”
“What?” she looked up. She sounded annoyed. “What do you want? Is that a flask?”
“I wanted to apologize,” Lawrence lied. From years of sitcoms, Lawrence knew women liked it when men apologized. Especially when the man did nothing wrong.
“You’re lying,” Kyri accused. “I can tell.”
“Well, I was trying.” Lawrence uncorked the flask. “This is agony. I’ve never had any. I was wondering if you wanted to share it. Yanno, before the lord comes out and stuff.”
Kyri stood. She had her top on. She took the flask and drank a quarter of it. She closed her eyes. Her expression morphed into one of pleasure. She sighed. Her shoulders relaxed.
“This almost makes up for your insults.” Kyri sniffed the wine.
“The other thing—well two things—I wanted to say. Um. You should take the [Secretary] Class as soon as possible, and then find employment as one somewhere.”
“Why?” Kyri’s eyes narrowed.
“Back home, I know an alien species. They tried expanding into a new region. Something happened and the colonists had no contact for a century and a half. The main empire reestablished contact, but the colonists didn’t want to be colonists anymore. They wanted to be independent.”
“And I care about this why?” Kyri took another sip.
“To make a long story short, the empire won the war. But you know who they had in charge of operations in the colonies? A low-ranking nobody. A clerk. Just one, random dude sitting behind a desk filing paperwork. But because he sat on top of Paperwork Mountain, he was the de facto king’s representative. He made all the decisions. He ran the colony. You know what his class was?”
“A [Secretary].” Lawrence and Kyri said together. Kyri nodded. She added, “Yes. I get it. A secretary. Yes. Very well. What do you want for this information?”
Lawrence’s brain stalled.
“You did not think that far ahead, did you?”
Lawrence looked at his feet.
“I will keep your secrets, boy,” Kyri said with an air of seriousness. Her voice changed, as if multiple people spoke. “I swear a fifty-strength contract.”
Lawrence’s lips twitched. He raised his chin. He wanted to smile.
“You can smile,” Kyri chided. “It’s alright. What was the other thing you wanted?”
Lawrence glanced down at the fortress. He saw movement in the courtyard and on the keep’s battlements. The lord would be on his way. Lawrence had to hurry. He pulled up his phone and unlocked the screen.
“Recognize this?”
“No.”
“It’s a picture of a character. Her name is Princess Leia.”
“She’s pretty. Is she a friend of yours?”
“No, she—she’s a… character from a… stage production. Well, it’s a movie, but I dunno if you guys have movie projectors. It’s like a play on stage but you can watch it whenever you want ‘cause it’s prerecorded.”
“Why are you showing me this?” Kyri finished the flask.
“The point is. There are pictures of her without clothes floating around the Internet. Guys have access to those pictures easily. But, this is the picture they keep. This one gets blown up and plastered over the walls of bedrooms. This is the picture to which guys fap. Princess Leia, in a slave bikini.
“My point is, wearing some clothes is more titillating than nothing at all. If you want to… you know… then keep your clothes on.”
Kyri gave him a flat look. Lawrence put his phone away. He half-gestured for the flask.
“Can I have a sip?”
“It’s empty.” Kyri tossed it over her shoulder. It sailed off the boat, over the rail, and into the valley.
Lawrence looked at the deck. His shoulders drooped. He walked away. He felt crushed. It was just like with Lily all over again. Still, it wasn’t a complete loss. He still had the sacks full of silver. Shot for the guns. The demons could strip the dirigible for parts and armor up their fort. The giant lord would thank him. Maybe not apologize, but it would be better.
The doors to the keep banged open. The giant lord strode out. A horde of demons followed. Lawrence waited in the middle of the boat. He looked up at the massive creature. He bent at the waist.
“You’re back.” The giant lord stopped. He put one foot on the deck. The entire ship groaned. He took his foot off. “What have you brought me.”
Lawrence presented the map. He tossed a sack of silver in the demon’s direction. The coins spilled across the deck.
“A ship, a pile of silver, weapons, shot for the guns, a map of Thug Swarm fortress locations, and a new girl.” Lawrence gestured. “This is Kyri.”
The giant lord’s great head swiveled. Many demon’s heads swiveled. The imps all chittered. The fiends murmured. The few giants grunted approvingly. She posed against a gun.
“Your sorcerer has excellent manners,” Kyri lied. Her voice was honey-sweet. Lawrence’s head pulsed with pain, as if a headache came and went. He frowned. He realized the lord would be looking at him. He let the muscles in his face slacken.
“Boy,” the lord thundered. “You have impressed me. If you take the corporate Skill War Crown, your captain’s rank will be official. Thank you for the plunder. I will take everything. Run along back to your school. Your uncle is looking for you.”
Demons swarmed the deck. Imps scooped up the coins. The lord grabbed Kyri in his fist. He carried her back inside. The rest of the demons began stripping the airship like a swarm of locust. Lawrence shuffled off to the side. He made his way back down into the base. He lit his lantern. Finding his way out without a guide was hard. It took much longer to find the back door.
He pushed it open. He left it open. He made his way up the mountain. He still had the map and the compass.
“A joke-rank, low ammo, and no street cred. I almost died a bunch. I’m lucky I didn’t get lost or attacked sailing. I lost more than I gained.”
Lawrence let himself in. Lily was not present; he’d forgotten all about her. He paid her no more mind. He’d deal with her and Winter later. He went inside and up to his room. Cosmic Creepers made a mess on the floor. Lawrence let him out.
Lawrence got him a bucket of what passed for filtered water. He cleaned up the mess. He put out a fresh bag of feed. He refilled the bucket of water. He spent some time brushing Cosmic Creepers’ hair. Was it hair or fur? He thought it was hair. No matter. His brain was fried.
Lawrence took his layers off. The school did not have enough water for a shower. Lawrence put the stolen gold in with his backpack.
“Probably gonna be leaving soon, Cos,” Lawrence muttered. He stroked the llama’s neck. “Lily is a problem. Winter forgave her too easy. There’s more there I don’t know. I don’t have all the facts. If I didn’t know any rituals I’d stay inside the base and learn. Practice all day until I got ‘em down. They didn’t take long to memorize on Earth. Well, not Earth, but the colony. The Other World.”
“Then why don’t you ask your new friends to help?” Cosmic Creepers nuzzled the side of his head.
“They’re not my friends.” Lawrence took the blanket and pillow off the bed. He made a nest on the ground. Cosmic Creepers came and lay next to him. “I doubled all their intelligence. I doubled their memory-recall, their intuitiveness, their capacity for learning, their perception, mental concentration. There’s a lot of different kinds of intelligence; I just gave their entire brain stats a big fat boost. But they’re not my friends. They don’t care.
“They’re happy to take whatever I give, but they’ll screw me over in the next minute. They’re not friends. Just tools to be used and discarded.”
He put his back to the llama. He threw the blanket over them both.
“I want to go home.”
The wind off the mountains changed to freezing. Lawrence got up and put all of his layers back on. He was glad again for the British vest and his robes. After a few minutes he rose.
He retrieved the snubnose revolver from his ankle holster. He made sure it was loaded. He put it under his pillow. He locked the door. He wedged a chair under it. He pulled the chair away. He dragged the wardrobe over. He retrieved some chalk. He drew a warding around the gaping window. He drew a second around the door.
He laid back down next to his familiar. He slipped a hand under the pillow. He made sure to stash the weapon pointing away from Cosmic Creepers. Exhaustion crept into the room. Lawrence felt his eyes grow heavy. With his warm, smelly llama next to him, he drifted off on feathery wings. He slept the sleep of the dead.