Naereni

I watched the Joan Estate from the trees, noting how there appeared to be fewer men on patrol than the last time I came here. I was standing outside their perimeter, staring in through their iron gates. The grounds were ominously quiet, not even crickets chirping to alert us of life.

Karsien had elected to work with these renegade mages in saving Toren, but our goals were not just one. After all, the distillery wasn’t destroyed yet.

But there was a spark of hope where before I felt despair. Our number had more than doubled from these new mages. Most of the group was composed of shields, so we would be able to defend from far more than we could put out.

Wade stepped up to the fence, a couple of rats crowding around his feet. They had slowly joined him as we ran over here, their little feet keeping up with our group surprisingly well. His light brown hair was a mess from the beating he’d received, and he hadn’t managed to find a new pair of glasses.

Karsien squinted through the bars, his mask hiding what he thought. Then he turned to our new companions. “We’ve got two goals, here: find Toren, and destroy the blithe distillery,” he said.

I heard one of the shields grunt. He had a slight paunch, but I suspected if he ever smiled he would look jolly. But the man had a look on his face as if he was constipated. “Didn’t sign up to help the Joans make drugs,” he said. “Dusk’s my priority, but I’ll help where I can.”

There were words of agreement from the other mages. I’d learned that they were all part of the Clarwood Forest expedition which Toren saved. Apparently, the realization that the acidbeam paper they’d risked their lives to obtain was being used as a pleasure drug did not sit well with them.

Additionally, the fact that their benefactor was being held captive by those very employers was enough to make them turn.

“Do you have a plan to locate either Dusk or the distillery? I’m sure the distillery was moved somewhere beneath the estate from what I heard in my last few days working for the Joans, but I don’t know anything specific enough,” Aban said, looking at Karsien meaningfully.

“That’s where our sentry comes in,” Karsien said, gesturing to Wade. “He’s scouted this place before, so it’ll take less time. We’ll know everything about it soon.”

Wade blinked as the attention of everybody turned to him. After a moment, he began to speak, holding his chin upright even though he wasn’t facing the audience; off by perhaps thirty degrees. “My familiars can report what they see back to me,” he said. “Even if I can’t see very well right now, they can just fine.”

A hand went up hesitantly, connected to the other sentry. “I have a question,” he said. “Do you get images back from your familiars, or do they communicate in a different way?”

“Images, but they have to return to me first,” Wade replied.

“Then I might have an idea…”

—

Wade’s rats scampered off in twos and threes, bounding across the lawn toward the estate. I watched them go nervously, twirling an ice dagger in my hands.

The other sentry was doing something with his mana, peering at the building with squinted eyes. My heart rate was noticeably above the norm, the nerves and tension of preparing for this battle making me think over everything I had done.

Was I strong enough to actually attack this place? The last time I was here I was sent running away. It was my first big failure, and looking at the well-cared-for grounds made the familiar shame of being caught rise up again.

“You’re ready for this, Naereni,” Hofal said from beside me. He was staring at the estate as well, his axe resting on his shoulder. “You’re one of the strongest women I know. You’ve laid down enough blocks to make a wonderful structure. Now, all you need to do is affix that steeple,” he said, referencing one of his old stories.

I peered over at him. He constantly radiated this ‘wise old grandpa’ energy that oftentimes got on my nerves, but this time it served to settle them. “How many women do you actually know?” I asked in return, raising a brow.

The man huffed. “Back in my day–” he started, but he was cut off by the sentry.

“Guys?” he said, his gaze unfocused as he stared off into nothing. “I found Dusk. He’s being hauled along by that one psychopath toward Lawrent’s study.”

“Which psychopath?” one of the shields asked. “There’s a few in that family.”

“Dornar,” he replied absently.

One of Wade’s rats scampered back, slipping through the bars and scampering up his shoulder. He looked down at it, then toward all of us. “We’ve got a hit,” he said. “Traces of movement and hasty relocation of furniture on the lower levels of the estate. The rest of my rats have gone down further to confirm.”

The other sentry broke out of his spellform, blinking his eyes rapidly as if adjusting to a different light. “Want to give my idea a shot?” he asked.

Wade squinted. “You can try, but it might not be as simple as you think. Interacting with rat senses is… weird.”

The other sentry shrugged. “It’s worth a try,” he said. “And it’ll give everyone a good idea of what to expect.”

After another moment, Karsien and I moved forward, as was discussed earlier. The sentry laid an arm on each of us, then Wade touched his back.

“Now, you might feel a bit disoriented at first,” he said, beginning to activate one of his spellforms. “That’s normal. Try not to panic when it hits you.”

I could feel the mana transfer as it moved from Wade, through the sentry’s rune, and into me. I had just enough time to think I don’t panic before my mind was hit with a jumble of foreign sensations.

Small feet, scrabbling over the stones. Fifty different scents, all converging at once. Cheese. Insect dropping. Another rat. Ignore, have to find path. Down and down and down, feet carrying. Sniff the air. Man walking by, not friendly. Hide in shadows. Dart past, aim for stairs. Lots of scuff marks.

Death and disease downstairs. Want to stay away. Want to leave. Have to go. Have to find. Master promised cheese.

I coughed as the sensations ceased, the experience of living as a rat very, very different from living as a Rat. It was like a dozen foreign understandings were shoved into my head. “Vritra’s horns,” I cursed, rubbing at my forehead. “You could’ve warned me, Wade!”

Wade shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I did. It takes a while to get used to. But does that mean it worked?”

“It did,” Karsien said, far less affected than me. “We know the path to take from that rodent’s memories.”

The other sentry removed his hands. “Normally I only share my own enhanced senses and vision, but I can share another person’s if they touch me willingly. But I have to say, living as a rat is… a lot different than what I expected.”

He shook his head, then peered back at the estate. I felt mana flare as he activated his rune again, trying to scry Toren’s location.

Knowing the route to the basement did help my confidence. I knew where I had to go and what I had to do.

“You really do promise your rats cheese,” I said to Wade, who blushed in the low light. “I said that as a joke!”

The young librarian shrugged. “They actually don’t like cheese much. When I really want to motivate them, I give them apples. Adds extra incentive.”

I chuckled, then leaned toward the young man. “Give me an apple after this, and I’ll do anything you want,” I whispered into his ear. They quickly went red all the way to the tips, making me smirk.

Wade coughed, preparing to say something else, but then the sentry’s voice cut me off, a note of audible panic suffusing it. “You’ve got to move!” he said, his unfocused eyes somehow containing a note of horror. “Lawrent… that insane bastard!”

I paused in teasing Wade. “What is it?!”

“He’s got a syringe! He’s going to inject Dusk with blithe!”

Before the man had finished his sentence, I vaulted over the fence to the estate. My feet landed with a soft thump on the grass, then I bolted across the lawn. My mind was awhirl with the symptoms of blithe addiction. The yellow-green patches of skin, hair loss, and eventual death were horrible afflictions.

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I remembered my father, crumpled in a ball on the floor, a needle in his arm. I remembered shaking the body, asking for him to wake up.

I knew immediately the reason Lawrent Joan would inject another man with blithe. To force somebody under that horrible addiction, to make them a slave to your will, was perhaps the worst fate I could imagine.

A second later, Karsien, Hofal, Vaelum, and Aban were running alongside me, each going in a mad dash for the manse. We all knew what was at stake.

“Hofal!” Karsien called as we neared the building. “You’re with me. We’re aiming for the distillery! To destroy it!” He slid to the wall. “Blithe is extremely flammable, and Toren is going to need every bit of distraction he can get!”

Hofal nodded. He laid a hand against the wall, activating his wall spellform. The brick peeled away, allowing us all in. For once, Hofal’s magic didn’t have the extra detail and nice carvings etched into it.

I wanted to protest immediately. I had waited for so long to destroy the Joans’ drug factory. It was my purpose, to rid East Fiachra of that hellish substance.

But no. My purpose wasn’t just to rid the world of the drug. It was to give people another option; hope outside their empty addictions. And right now, Toren needed to be saved from that hell.

Karsien looked at me right as we entered. We met eyes beneath our masks, and at that very moment, I realized something.

He was giving me the lead on this. He was letting me take the fore. I nodded, feeling the weight of his expectations settle next to the rest of my thoughts.

I would not fail Toren. And I would not fail Karsien.

We split once we entered. Some alarms were already blaring, our intrusion not the most subtle. I ran with Vaelum and Aban, the striker and caster keeping up remarkably well with my speed runes.

I entered a hallway with a skid, spying the staircase up to the top floor. It was lit by several lighting artifacts along the wall, highlighting the expensive red wallpaper. The floor was solid wood, which made getting traction for my run easy. I continued my dash toward the stairway, determination clear in my mind.

And I barely ducked a strike aimed for my head, the sword seeming to manifest from one of the attaching hallways. I blocked a follow-up with a conjured buckler, but the attack knocked me back down the hall and shattered my icy construct.

A man stepped out from a nearby room. He easily had a foot on me in height, and a sword was held leisurely in one hand. Scars ran up his arms, creating a grotesque image. His nose was slightly crooked from being broken one too many times.

“Well, look at this,” he said, his face alight with a hideous smile. “I’ve been waiting for a rematch,” the man said, shifting in his stance. He had a grin on his face as he stared me down in the low light, seeming to dismiss Aban and Vaelum behind me. “And you’ve delivered yourself right outside my door.”

I knew this man. He was the leader of those who had cornered Hofal and me in an alleyway what felt like months ago. I looked at his nose again, recognizing the imprint of Hofal’s shield.

“I’m afraid I don’t have time for you,” I said, shifting slightly to try and get an opening to dash past him. Toren didn’t have much time. “Maybe schedule an appointment? The Rats are always ready for new customers.” I felt myself unconsciously eye the silver necklace around his neck.

The man scoffed as more mages crowded in behind him, cutting off my route to the stairs. By the Sovereigns, I cursed internally.

“You won’t get us by surprise this time,” he sneered, hefting his blade.

One of the mages behind the man with scarred arms laughed slightly. “Really, Aban? Joining with these slum rats?” He had a scruffy beard and hard eyes. “I’ve never known you to fight your employers. Is old age finally getting to that thick skull of yours?”

“I have a purpose here beyond simple contracted employment,” Aban replied, leveling his staff. “Step aside, Yaren. For old time’s sake.”

A few chuckles rolled through the mages blocking our way. “I thought you’d die in that forest one day with your godson, Aban, but I should’ve known it would be on the end of my blade.”

The room held its breath for a single, protracted moment. Every person seemed to simultaneously size each other up. I kept my eyes on the staircase at the end of the hall, the sole way to Toren.

And then it burst into motion, mana burning and flaring as spells were conjured and thrown. I weaved, trying to slip past the lead striker.

His sword swung in my direction in an unavoidable arc. I conjured a baton of ice, using the thick rod to deflect the swing slightly. Then I threw the conjured weapon, trying to clock my scarred enemy in the skull.

He let one of his hands go from his sword, using it to smack my baton to the side. It crashed into the wall, then fell uselessly to the floor.

I barely pirouetted out of the way of another attack, this time a bullet of ice. I had to remember I wasn’t fighting just one person.

Aban and Vaelum were holding their own well, the older mage and young full-plated spearman working as a perfect unit. A coating of fire churned around Vaelum’s spear, and he used it to cut through approaching spells and strike at any who got too close. Aban was summoning small vortexes of air that threw off the trajectory of anything in their blast radius.

My attention was forced back to my opponent when he swung a spike of earth at me. I narrowly ducked, then somersaulted over another. A thin coating of ice over my forearm barely deflected another strike.

“Do you have any idea the pain you put me through?!” my opponent snarled, utterly focused on me.

“I’m afraid I don’t care,” I said, trying to peer past him. If I got past this man, I was sure I was agile enough to make it to the stairs. “Maybe you can ask your mother? If she recognizes you with that nose.”

That was probably the wrong thing to say, as he retaliated with a blow that made my next conjured construct shatter. His blade continued down, aiming for my shoulder.

I hastily formed a thick pauldron of ice as his blade came down in a chop, cutting deeply into my makeshift armor. The blow sent shockwaves through my body, causing me to stumble.

With the blade still lodged in my armor, the striker advanced, using his greater body weight to shove me against the wall. I felt his sword digging deeper and deeper into the ice, inching closer to my flesh.

“I’m going to stick you like a pig,” he replied, grinding his blade down.

I started feeling a flash of panic as my magic began to give in, but I grit my teeth, condensing another spell.

A rattling boom rocked the entire building, causing the floorboards to rattle and making me stumble. The lighting artifacts on the wall shook in their fixtures, the light winking in and out. The shockwave reverberated through the structure, sending most of the mages standing to the floor. Both I and my opponent were thrown to the ground. The wind left my lungs in a wheeze as I struggled to comprehend what just happened.

My eyes widened as I connected the dots. I knew you could do it, Kars, I thought, smirking as I pulled myself to my feet. The distillery was destroyed, meaning part of our objectives were complete. Another explosion echoed after, a wonderful encore to the first.

A second later, the shields from outside finally barrelled into the hallway, their slower pace having kept them from joining us. Reinforcements had come.

And Aban and Vaelum wasted no time capitalizing on the distraction. They rushed their enemies, many of whom were still trying to get to their feet. I took the chance to swing a heavy ice cleaver at the scarred striker, finally realizing that I wouldn’t be able to get to Toren if this man stood in my way.

He shifted, but my attack cut a slice across his arm, spraying blood and making him grunt in anger. “Another scar to join the others!” I mocked, cocking my hand back. Then I threw the icy construct, the thick blade tumbling end over end.

One of the shields on our side sent out his hand, and I felt a warmth suffuse my body. Looking down, I noticed several thin bands of metal coalescing around my shins and forearms.

My next attack smashed straight through my enemy’s guard, blowing his sword wide. These metal bracers somehow enhanced my strength, allowing me to hit far harder.

The man snarled, staggering backward. He stumbled, nearly tripping over one of the unconscious bodies of his fellows. We were gaining ground, pushing back against the Joans’ hired lackeys.

I launched at the man, intent on capitalizing on his faulty stance. But an alien force overwhelmed me, stealing the breath from my lungs. I choked, entirely unprepared for the sensation. It was as if the volume of an entire river was suddenly forced down my throat, making it impossible to inhale.

The men around me similarly stumbled, taken aback by the sudden pressure. I heard a man whimper as I tried to make sense of what had just hit me.

Above, I realized dimly. This is coming from above. The stairs!

It was like the pressure of a boot being weighed against my body. I dropped my ice daggers as I staggered to the side, holding onto the wall for support. The light artifacts flickered and dimmed under the palpable intent, casting ominous shadows.

The pressure relented after a moment, allowing me to fall back into a combat stance on instinct. Sweat beaded on my forehead, a phantom brush from the earlier power making my knees weak.

“What in the hells was that?” I heard Vaelum say from panting breath. “Is it going to come back?”

I gulped, the foreign power seeming to focus elsewhere. I shuddered at the thought of feeling it again, much of my earlier bravado quenched.

But the source… I couldn’t leave Toren up there, facing whatever the Joans unleashed.

I sensed mana building above us before lashing out, a cacophonous explosion resonating outward. The power began to build once, a truly astonishing amount like a beacon to my mana sense. It radiated from above, meshed with the strange presence. A fight was going on up there.

Some of the mages were looking back wide-eyed at the stairwell, no doubt sensing the same gathering of power.

A beam of red something seared through the wall from above, carving a line right near my opponent’s head. He yelped as it burned another hole through the opposing wall without resistance.

Resolving myself that I would simply power through any more weirdness that approached me, I lunged at the man. He was utterly unprepared to face me, his guard crumbling under my assault.

With extra strength provided by my ally’s spell, I was able to yank his arm aside, leaving him open to assault.

Another explosion rocked the building, but this time from the upper floors. Dust fell from the ceiling as the floor quaked. The thunder of battle was occurring on multiple floors.

I didn’t let it deter me. My foe screamed in rage as his defense was obliterated, but I no longer had patience for this. I darted in, quick as lightning, drawing a cut along his leg. He stumbled, allowing me to deliver a final blow to his head.

He crumpled, just as Vaelum, Aban, and the rest of my allies began to finish off their opponents. Adrenaline pumped through my veins and I ignored several shallow cuts along my body.

With a vindictive sort of pleasure, I leaned over the fallen striker, then ripped the silver necklace from around his neck. It was good quality, better than most. An heirloom, perhaps?

I nodded to Aban, trying to convey my intent through my eyes. Then I dashed for the stairs, praying to the Sovereigns that I wasn’t too late.