The demon led him inside. The imp and the drone followed. The fiend led them through the maze to the armory. The imp traded his metal for a real knife. The drone donned a spawnleather shirt. And Lawrence located a rifle.
“Dis be gud gun,” the armorer said. “Much powah. Very nice. You like?”
It was an AR-15. Blood and pieces of dried brain coated part of the barrel.
“It doesn’t have a magazine or cartridges.”
“Ah. Here.” He pushed forward a bloodstained strip of revolver cartridges and a bag of mismatched handgun bullets. Bullets meaning the pointy tips all mashed up after being used and dug out of a corpse. “Deez be gud.”
“I need—uhm.” Lawrence reconsidered his audience. “No. I need big ones.”
“Ah.” The demon opened a small box. It dumped the collection on a rag and pawed through them. “You see? You like?”
Lawrence found five—no, two .223 cartridges. He put them in the magazine. He thought the whole thing was liable to explode in his face, but oh well. He loaded the magazine.
“I like,” he said, unconvinced.
“Gud. Gud. Bring back when dun.”
Lawrence met the fiend captain at the entrance. The demon looked at the gun with disapproval.
“I like keeping those in reserve,” the fiend said. “In case there’s a crisis.”
“Yeah, but you don’t keep it clean or maintained.” Lawrence kept it pointed at the ground with the safety on and his finger off the trigger. “It’s either gonna jam or not work at all. Trust me. I know how to use one of these.”
“Hmph. Well, follow me.” The fiend led him up to the battlements. Dozens of demons in ragtag armor milled. The best way to describe them was part-humanoid and part-you-name-it. None of them took care of their gear. Lawrence’s heart ached seeing the horrible way they treated their guns. Trophies, more than weapons.
“The Usurpers are up there.” The captain pointed. He shouted an order. The demons paid attention. In a flash, the muttering stopped. The captain raised his voice. “Sorcerer, can you conjure hellfire?”
Lawrence shrugged.
“Then stay back with the imps,” the captain waved his hand. “Everyone, with me.” He spread his wings and took off. A dozen fiends and avians followed. Far above, a single airship descended like a circling vulture.
“Whatsit doo?” the imp perched on a rock. It shaded its eyes.
“What was your name again?”
“I’s Guh-nat. Whatsit’s naym?”
“I’m Lawrence.”
“Luh-ow-rensss,” the imp repeated. It waved its new folding boy scout pocketknife. “Luh-ow-rensee. Whatsit doo?”
“Just wait.” Lawrence studied the airship. Cannons fire shrapnel. The defenders had guns, but they were not powered by anything Lawrence knew. It was over before it started. The captain and a few avians circled back. They landed on the battlement. They all had wounds. Their blood was a yellow-green slime. Mom called it ichor.
“Everyone,” the captain bellowed. “Get inside. We are going to be attacked.”
A mad rush ensued as the flightless demons stampeded for the door. The captain forced his way through. A giant ran a spear into his back. The giant ripped it out sideways through the captain. The captain screamed. He scrabbled to keep his guts inside even as the giant’s foot descended.
The wet squelching of the elephantine foot smashing through bone and brain was the realest sound Lawrence had ever heard. He stared in shock and horror.
“New captain,” the giant bellowed. “I’s new captain. Turn and fight. Defend the walls, maggots.”
The demons skidded to a halt. There was a quick discussion as they processed the assassination and Klingon promotion. Then they swarmed the opposite way. Lawrence pressed himself against the wall as an army of monsters passed.
The airship finished descending. Grapples were thrown onto the walls. The pirates reeled them in, bringing the airship next to the walls as if to dock. Fiends, giants, drones, and stalkers charged over the rail. The defenders charged to meet them.
“Gun fite?”
“Not right now, Gnat.”
“Whatsit doo?”
“Just hand on a sec.” Lawrence took one look at the chaos. He heard a low moan. He turned his head. He saw the broken form of the captain lying in a pool of blood. Somehow, the creature still lived. Lawrence saw an imp helping itself to the fiend’s entrails. “Follow me.”
Lawrence drew his knife. He approached the imp from behind. By the time the little monster knew he was there it was too late. Lawrence buried his knife in the creature’s back. The imp screamed. It was dying, but it wasn’t dead yet. Pinning it to the ground, Lawrence laid a hand on the fiend’s shoulder.
He chanted under his breath. He tried not to think about how exposed he was. Gnat could backstab him if it wanted. Numbers flashed before his face. Lawrence performed this feat before. It was his favorite. He used a variation of it now to transfer the imp’s iliaster to himself. Using a few units, he performed a healing ritual to stabilize the fiend.
Brain matter reappeared like a filling balloon. Bone regrew to cover up holes. Flesh grew over the yellow bone. The fiend’s eyes fluttered open. It blinked up at Lawrence.
“Whuh?”
“Remain still.” Lawrence cast the healing ritual again. The fiend sat up.
“You saved me.”
“Yeah. You’re a known quantity. I dunno that giant. You owe me. C’mere Gnat.” Lawrence made a Will check to generate a few units of his own iliaster. The imp called Guh-nat toddled forward. It squinted, but it was smart enough to obey.
Lawrence put a hand on the dying imp’s shoulder. He could have wrapped his fingers around the creature’s throat. Instead, he chanted Energy Tap. Every point of the dying imp’s Knowledge, Mental, Wisdom and Face stats transferred to himself. Had Lawrence a Status screen, he would be able to see how much his own stats rose.
Even without status, he knew the difference. He remembered more things. He could recall more information. His concentration shot up; it would be easier to generate iliaster, though the small amount would remain consistent. And his confidence had a boost. His face felt burned, as if he’d used too much Proactive. All his acne vanished.
He knew if he savored the boost for too long, he’d keep it. Energy Tap’s danger was its addiction. With a supply of condemned prisoners, an unscrupulous mage could make themselves into a powerhouse overnight. He placed a hand on Gnat’s shoulder. The demon squinted with clear suspicion. Lawrence began chanting. He Transferred all the drained stats into Gnat’s head. The little imp’s eyes got big and round. Its pupils dilated.
“My… my name is… Gnat.” Gnat looked at his hands. He turned them over as if seeing them for the first time. “I—I—I wasted my life guarding a back door. I am an imp. I am a level one imp. My Breed Skill gives me wings.”
“Welcome to intelligence, Gnat.” Lawrence took his hand away. The brain drain manifested as the drop after a caffeine rush.
“Why did you help the imp?” the fiend asked. Its skin had regrown over its gut. Somehow it found the strength to stand, even leaning on its spear. “There are thousands more.”
Lawrence stood and stretched. He kept his eyes on Gnat’s. He recognized this was a Big Moment. This was one of those make-or-break-someone moments. He spoke to Gnat.
“You are wasted guarding someone’s backdoor. You have potential, Gnat. You should use it.” Lawrence wasn’t certain how much the demon understood. The breed preferred to be scouts, advisers, or businessmen. The concept of a devil on one’s shoulder was their aspiration. Whispering nasty ideas in one’s ear. He couldn’t trust Gnat, but he didn’t need trust. He needed a servant.
As for the fiend, well, Lawrence would rather take a chance on a known quantity than an unknown variable. He did not know the giant.
“It sounds like the battle is over,” Lawrence said. “May I suggest killing the giant, if he survived?”
“I cannot fight in this condition. I must rest.”
“Order me to kill him.” Lawrence glanced around to make sure no one overhead. “Two shots to the head and down he goes. I want a promotion, more iliaster, and more money. I want souls I can stat-drain.”
“Deal.” The fiend extended his hand. Lawrence shook it.
“What about me? What about me?” the imp bounced up and down.
“Just stick close to me,” Lawrence said. “And don’t stab me in the back or hamstring me. I can do that ritual a few more times; I just need iliaster and a prisoner.”
The fiend led the way outside. The battle was over. The defenders won. The giant carried the airship captain’s head aloft. The airship itself had been cut loose from the mooring lines. It now drifted away on the wind manned by a literal skeleton crew and one demonic sorcerer. Lawrence saw spell in action. Envy filled him.
“Take the prisoners to the cells,” the fiend roared.
The giant stopped cheering. Heads turned. A chorus of chittering, snarling, animal voices rose. It sounded like a cocktail party at a zoo.
“I challenge you for captain,” the giant bellowed. It marched toward the fiend. It carried a crude bastard sword. Instead of stone skin, it had irregular plates of black iron bolted to its flesh. In comparison, the fiend looked like a doddering old fool.
“Sorcerer,” the fiend gestured. “I command you. Kill him.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
The giant halted in clear surprise. Lawrence took a knee. He brought the rifle up and put it to his shoulder. His damaged glasses made seeing difficult, but his target was near.
“It is good you kneel before your better,” the giant sneered. It raised its weapon with both hands. “Any last words?”
Lawrence fired twice. Once into the creature’s chest, once into its head. The giant flinched as if punched. It toppled in slow motion, like a tree falling. It was dead before it hit the ground. An acrid smell wafted from the Armalite. Lawrence passed the now-empty weapon to the fiend.
“Take the prisoners to the cells,” the fiend ordered. “We will ransom them back to Thug Swarm. Sorcerer, I name you a Fellow of the Company.”
“You’ve been promoted,” Gnat hissed, excited. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks bud.” Lawrence took the bastard sword off the giant’s corpse. He filched a small pouch of low-denomination coins. Aside from the armor, that was all the giant owned. Lawrence took the sword and rifle back to the armory. The machinist armorer seemed pleased get the rifle back. He gave Lawrence half the sword’s value—four crowns. Lawrence pocketed the money. “Gnat, take me to where the prisoners are kept.”
Lawrence lit a lantern. Gnat flew along the halls ahead of him. Lawrence went through the labyrinth having no understanding of navigation. Every hall looked the same. Every intersection looked the same. Every open area’s deactivated traps looked the same. After a century of walking, Lawrence came to a flight of stairs. He descended.
“Gnat?” Lawrence called. Screams and moans of pain reached his ears. Sound traveled far underground. It was another twenty minutes of walking before Lawrence found the cells. Gnat waited for him. The entire place was a hive of activity.
“Prisoners on the left,” Gnat gestured with his knife. “Damned on the right. The torture chamber is located here. Makes feeding the prisoners easier."
“Brilliant,” Lawrence commented. He looked at the gender-neutral souls. The sight of them getting ground up, pressed, butchered, or otherwise hurt was difficult. They still screamed like they did in life. He turned to the prisoners. Demons of all shapes and sizes filled the cells. The newest prisoners stood in a line. Their weapons had already been taken. Now, they lost their clothing.
Blood Well’s demons made almost as much noise. The dead giant was strung up on a rack. Several drones were hard at work flaying the pieces of iron from its flesh. In some places, the iron replaced the flesh.
“Gnat. Find me whoever’s in charge.”
Gnat dashed off. Lawrence found an empty space near the iliaster troughs. The troughs were empty, but that was okay. He drew a warding circle with some chalk and candles. Gnat reappeared with an irritated drone. Gore covered the drone’s arms. It appeared to have been in the middle of something ghastly.
“What do you want, mortal?”
“I am a sorcerer performing Energy Tap. Bring me a prisoner, and I’ll increase your stats.”
“What do you want?” the drone demanded.
Lawrence had considered this. He did not want weapons. Guns and cartridges were nice, but he was a mage first. Blood Well’s demons had no grimoires for him. They had armor, weapons, hellish ammunition, food, and water. Lawrence had what he wanted at the school. He’d asked for a promotion to have more independence. To even be a fellow, he’d need to take one of the basic Company Skills. Without a Status screen, he couldn’t. The final option was armor, but the fortress’s inventory lacked anything desirable.
He couldn’t think of anything the demons had he wanted. Therefore, he went with the last, best option.
“Money is nice. Whatever you have. How ‘bout that?”
“Fine.” The drone brought him a prisoner drone. Blood Well’s drone kicked the other one’s legs from the side, breaking them in half. The prisoner crumpled onto the circle.
Lawrence chanted. He drained the prisoner’s intelligence stats and transferred them to the other demon. He did the same with the iliaster, putting the prisoner into dissolution. The prisoner began melting. Blood Well’s drone dragged the prisoner away to be rendered.
Gnat found another imp and dragged it over. Lawrence transferred the stats. The prisoner imp went away with the mind of a spawn. It could no longer think or feel. It was not much different from a robot. Gnat threw the prisoner away. It disappeared into the throng for another.
“Excuse me? Sorcerer?”
Lawrence raised his head. A demon with light blue skin, dark blue hair, and blue eyes stood nearby. She had a human face and the company’s basic Skill: a pair of curled horns on the sides of her head. A whip-like tail curled between her legs. Lawrence pegged her as level 15. She had a Physiology Skill to modify her appearance, the Company Skill, and Prehensile Tail. Species level divided by five equaled daily iliaster requirement. She needed three units a day just to survive. Gnat required one. This woman was a successful, powerful demon.
“Hi. My name is Commas Bloodwort. Are you doing Energy Tap?”
“Uh huh.”
“For free?” Commas sounded shocked.
“Well no. It’s pay what you can. Which… I guess means ‘technically free.’”
“Can I have one?”
“Bring me a prisoner and sure.”
The blue-skinned woman disappeared. She was older than him by a few years, if he was any judge. Maybe sixteen or seventeen. Small and petite, with leather pants and a white shirt. She returned dragging a fiend nearly twice her size.
“Put it down here.” Lawrence indicated his redrawn circle. Commas raised a one-handed axe almost as big as Lawrence. She swung it at the back of the fiend’s knee. The axe must have been sharp, because it cut through bone like it was nothing. Blood sprayed. The fiend screamed and fell.
“I need to be touching you,” Lawrence panicked. The ichor was ruining his circle. Commas swung her axe into the demon’s chest. Then she came around and knelt next to him. Lawrence put his hand on her arm. He didn’t want to stain her white shirt. He rushed through the two rituals. Commas’ eyes widened as her brain made all sorts of new connections.
“Thanks, sorcerer,” she yipped. She dropped a handful of crowns in his palm before dragging the dying fiend away. Lawrence gaped. Rich and strong. She returned a minute later dragging another, taller fiend. This one was not a prisoner. He carried a spear and a small shield. His armor was leather. He had a higher Face than the captain he’d saved. Lawrence could tell because this fiend looked more human-like and less monstrous.
“This is the guy.” Commas, the blue lady, pointed.
“This is the guy?” the fiend spearman arched one eyebrow.
“This is the guy.”
“All right, guy. I need an energy tap.”
“I need a prisoner and some iliaster.”
The spearman retrieved a prisoner and a bottle of yellow slime or pus. This was the plasmic form of iliaster. Lawrence weighed the bottle in his hand. After redrawing his circle he had the fiend lay out the prisoner. Lawrence chanted. He transferred the stats.
More demons appeared with prisoners. A few offered some coins or things. Some of the smarter demons offered what they thought were cultural artifacts. Lawrence turned most of those down. Junk from a junkyard. Most of the demons brought nothing. Lawrence did the rituals anyway.
“This is the guy.”
“This is the guy?”
“This is the guy.”
“I am the guy.”
“Hey, guy.”
“Hey, demon.”
“You dealing?”
“You paying?”
“I like the way you think.”
“Me too.”
-
“What are you gaining?” Gnat asked when there was a pause.
“Nothing much.” Lawrence redrew the circle. He was running low on chalk. “Mostly practice.”
“Too nice.” Gnat shook its head. “You should never do anything for nothing. You could have the entire fortress Contracted to you.”
“Yeah. But I don’t need that many contracts. I’d have trouble keeping them all straight.”
“You could let me manage them for you. I’m smart now.”
“What d’you want? And what do I get?”
“I’ll charge them money and take twenty percent.”
“Sounds fair.” Lawrence shrugged. Gnat bounced between the circle and the customers. A line of demons jostled for position. None were willing to wait their turn. Every demon had a prisoner in its claws. Lawrence saw Commas and her friend in the line. She looked nice. Objectively, plain as cereal. But in this literal hellhole, even cereal’s smile made his heart skip.
“Sorcerer.” Gnat prodded him with a sharp claw.
“OUCH.”
“Get working,” the imp urged.
Lawrence sat there the rest of the day. Imps brought him more supplies. Gnat gave those a discount. He had the price marked out on the floor in chalk. He kept crossing it out and upping it. Lawrence protested.
“No. It’s worth it,” Gnat replied. “People still paying.”
The jails emptied. Before, they had been full to bursting. Now they lay barren. Without intelligence, the prisoners were not much good. The process drained their iliaster. Without another dose, they became dissolute. No one wanted to waste their precious soul stuff on a lobotomized demon, even a former soldier.
Death would not happen overnight. Dissolution was a process. Demons who could not fulfill their iliaster requirements gained negative levels and lost their Skills. If they still did not make up the deficit, the losses became permanent. If the deficit continued, they’d lose one negative level a day. At zero, they’d dwindle away to nothing. Life as a demon was one of insatiable, unquenchable hunger.
If Lawrence ever unlocked Access, he’d have an iliaster requirement too. It was dependent on him being part-demon. It was the catch-22. To have a Class and gain power, he needed Access to the Program. But having it would automatically shackle him with a daily iliaster requirement.
“What is this?” a voice cried. It was lost in the din. Blood Well’s demons herded the dumb prisoners back into their cells. A figure forced its way to the front. It was the fiend captain. Lawrence noted he looked healthy again. He had upgraded his armor and added a metal helmet. “What are you doing?”
Lawrence shrugged.
“These prisoners were supposed to be sold,” the captain screamed. The entire jail went silent. Even the souls stopped screaming. Lawrence heard a penny hit the floor. He glanced at the demon who bent to pick it up. The captain interpreted this wrong. He shrieked, “Am I straining your attention? I promoted you to Companyfellow, and now you’re stealing? I should throw you into a cell along with them.”
Lawrence stared. His mouth opened.
“Stop this at once,” the captain roared. He rounded on the rest of the demons. “Get them all into the cells. No one is to touch another. If the Usurpers find out we took the Attributes of all their soldiers they won’t pay to get them back. They’ll come back here in greater numbers and wipe us out. Whose idea was this?”
Absolute silence reigned. No one moved or spoke.
“No one?” the captain looked around. “All right. You’re all on short rations for a day. Maybe some hunger will teach you not to disobey orders.”
“Captain.” Lawrence stood. “It was my idea. Don’t punish them. Punish me.”
The captain turned around. His face colored. He seized Lawrence by the collar. The next thing Lawrence knew, the captain dragged him up the stairs. Lawrence struggled to keep up. The captain did not relent.
“I saved your life,” the captain shouted. “I stood up for you in front of the Lord’s aide. Do you know how dangerous that was for me? I stuck my neck out for you. I defended you when you killed that giant in cold blood. You assassinated a superior officer outside of a formal ritual. Dozens of witnesses. I allowed it to happen thus saving your life.”
“That’s not what happened,” Lawrence protested. “My money. There’s a sack on the ground with all my money in it.”
“No. I don’t want to hear it, mortal.” The captain swung a fist into his gut. Lawrence wanted to sit, but the captain resumed walking. “I don’t care if you’re that lord’s nephew. I don’t care if you’re a faustian. Do you know who’s going to take the fall for those prisoners? Me. Because I’m the captain. The lord of the fortress will summon me to his chambers and rip my head off for failure. I cannot allow it. Therefore, I’m placing the blame squarely where it belongs.”
“You’re lying,” Lawrence yelled.
“Shut UP. No one cares about you. You’re just a dumb kid who’s in way over his head. Do you have any idea how disrespectful you are? How you’ve been? Get your skinny mortal butt out of here.”
The demon threw him out the backdoor. Lawrence fell on the ground in a heap. The captain drop-kicked Gnat.
“And you. Stand at your post like you’re told. Don’t leave. Leave, and you’re dead. No second chances. And you, mortal. Don’t come back. If I see you again, you die.”
The captain slammed the door. Lawrence stared up at the imposing black door. Tears filled his eyes. He felt angry. Confused. Hurt. He thought he was doing good work. He thought he was helping the company’s members. Then why? His face screwed up. He wanted to cry.
“Don’t cry.”
Lawrence choked back a sob.
“Don’t.” Gnat stood. He went back to his post. “Don’t you dare. You cry, you’re finished. Kill your weakness. Or you will be killed.”
“Why?” Lawrence mumbled. His voice was full of hurt and unshed tears. “Why did he—?” he gestured.
“You made him look weak. He attained his position through cunning and strength. The giant replaced him. Perhaps the brute would have been better. It matters not. You proved you were a better fit for leadership. You and me.”
“But I’m not a leader. That wasn’t leadership.” Lawrence waved at the door. “That was just—using a resource to empower my men. The company’s men. If the company’s fighters are smarter, they’ll fight better. They’ll make better decisions. You saw that yourself.”
“But now the cunning captain is no longer cunning.” Gnat folded his arms. “Now, he’s average. Worry not, Lawrence. Another will kill him and take his place. Go back to your school. Blood Well’s lord will hear of this. He will want to speak with you.”
“And he’ll kill me too.”
“Maybe,” Gnat admitted. “Killing the giant was bold. Proper challenges require appointments. An arena. In battle, assassination is acceptable because the chaos can lead to mistakes. Outside of battle, there are rules. You broke them. But you also empowered our fighters. And you took away the resource we were going to sell for profit. For whatever happens, who can say?”
“I’m more worried about Lily.” Lawrence sniffed. He dusted himself off. “She’s going to stab me in the back.”
“Yes. And it will be soon. The question I have for you, mortal, is what are you going to do?”