“KARL!” Terry screamed, watching as the paladin, the man who had saved her and brought her on this crazy adventure, soared off into the sky.
He's got something that will save him, right? He's got to.
He's got to.
Screams brought her back to her original surroundings. The goblin lord was smashing through the wall, and giant logs were falling in every direction. People were dodging and trying to help others get out of the way. Terry used her burst of speed ability three times in a row to get people clear. She tried to get to Alain next, but couldn't make it in time; at the last second, the log twisted oddly and Alain was knocked sideways, but miraculously seemed unharmed. “Thank you, Sir Karl,” she heard him mutter.
She looked up and saw the Hobgoblin Lord step out onto Post Road and start stumbling west. Fury filled her. Oh Hell no, you murdering bastard. You don't get to outlive him. You don't get to run away and lick your wounds and come back for more later. You die NOW.
She checked her stamina and swore, then started running after it at normal speed. It wasn't too hard to keep pace with the monster; after the initial trot to gain distance, it seemed to decide it was clear and slowed to a walk.
She wanted to scream, she wanted to rage; she did neither because it would stop the ability she was trying to use from doing its thing and giving her back enough stamina to kill this monster. She made herself focus.
Your skill in Regenerative Breathing has increased (3-->4)
Good. Terry forced herself to be calm. Revenge should be cold.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Her stamina inched upward. Terry thought carefully about what she wanted to do, and exactly how it would go. She started closing the distance.
Wait for it.
Wait for it.
Now.
She used her Abilities and Skills in exact sequence: premeditation, spot weakness, Speed Burst, Backstab. She became a single, fluid motion, an embodiment of retribution. She sliced through all the tendons in its ankle just as it put maximum strain on it.
Critical Strike. Damage X4.
She spun, stepped, sliced.
Critical Strike. Damage X3.
With a howl to shake the countryside, the goblin lord fell forward, landing on its right side, still alive, but crippled for the moment. It soon got to its hands and knees and looked around, but Terry was now in stealth. While she slowly worked her way around the huge monster, chest heaving silently, she was startled to hear it give another surprised howl. Then she saw Jim, burying his sword in the thing's left wrist. A moment later, George emerged from stealth and slashed at the same wrist with two daggers.
Good. They all deserved a piece of this thing.
Terry jumped, jumped again, and was on the creature's back, running towards its neck. How is this thing still growing? System, I'd like to file a bug report!
It reared up on its knees to stop her, but she clung to it, content to fight without her special abilities. She stabbed and stabbed and stabbed again, dodging one attempt at grabbing her, then climbing faster when the beast got distracted by having to knock Jim and George away from its legs.
Then she heard a bicycle bell, of all things. A quick glance down showed Tabitha dismounting from a red bike—not Jake's blue one—and running up to the beast. She started burning what she could reach, and Terry smiled at the monster's screams as she knelt on its neck, focused, and struck. Then she finally understood, on a primal level, what it means to twist the knife.
Really hard to do. And also really, really satisfying. She rode it all the way down as it died, and tumbled free.
She checked that it was dead, and looted ten silver and a goblin lord tooth that would probably make a good knife with some work. Then she knew it was dead, and fell down in the street and started sobbing.
He saved my life. He saved all our lives, practically. It's not fair. You hear me, System? IT'S NOT FAIR!
Her throat hurt and she realized that she'd screamed that last hard enough to injure herself. It didn't matter. She'd regenerate. She didn't care. She screamed again, without words.
It took quite a while for everyone to come out and loot the monster, which slowly shrank back to its former size now that it was dead. She knew people were saying things to her, but they weren't registering. She wandered around, not listening to anyone. After a bit she stayed by the corpse, because crumbling away was too good for it, she wanted to see it burn. She managed to mumble that much, and was dimly aware that Tabitha was sitting near her, waiting. Not saying anything. Thanks, Tabitha. You've got the right idea. Terry punched the corpse as hard as she could every so often.
Finally, nearly everyone else backed away. Terry stood slowly, turned and glared at the body. She was about to tell Tabitha to go ahead, when a notification popped up, now that she wasn't in combat.
Hobgoblin High Lord corpse—partially looted
“God damn it, whoever hasn't looted this thing better do it now because this motherfucker's...” Terry trailed off and her breath caught.
No. No way.
Oh please, God, please.
System, show me Karl Hausman's latest status.
Karl had never specifically told the System to stop sharing his status with Terry, and she hadn't been about to remind him. Now she looked. Her eyes skipped over nearly everything as she focused on one number that filled her universe.
Health 18/292
But is it old data? Terry stared.
Waited.
Stared some more.
She knew it had been too long, that if it were going to change, it would have by now. It was just the last recording before he died.
Terry felt as if she were being stabbed in the gut, all over again. How do I...? How can I cope with--
Health 19/292
Terry froze. It took her a few moments to convince herself she wasn't reading wrong, remembering wrong. Then she screamed. “YES!” She yelled. “YES! YEEEEESSSSSS!”
It took a minute for her to calm down enough to communicate with the others, and another minute for them to believe her. As a ragged cheer went up from the bystanders, she wasn't the only one with tears in her eyes, she noted. Chenelle was quiet about it, but her eyes were red and shining as she leaned against Doug's chest, smiling.
A minute later, Terry sat down to examine the whole thing:
Sir Karl Friedrich Hausman
Class: paladin
Level: 7
Experience: 1525/16000
Health: 21/292
Mana: 314/350
Stamina: 150/150
Endurance: 25
Body: 9.3 (Strength: 13, Constitution: 9, Agility: 6)
Mind: 7.7 (Intelligence: 9, Willpower: 8, Aptitude: 6)
Social: 5.7 (Charisma: 10, Personality: 3, Allure: 4)
Skills:
Analyze Creature (1)
Brawling (4)
Short Spear (2)
Shield Bash (4)
Short sword (4)
Sense Deceit (1)
Righteous Presence (3)
Spells:
Healing Hands (5)
Purge Poison (1)
Spellsword (1)
Guardian Aura—upgraded to Guardian Angel (1)
Circumstantial Prayer(2)
Wow, I don't even know what half of those do. System, Help Guardian Angel.
Nothing. Terry kept poking at the interface.
C'mon, System, I know you want to. Karl's your bud. Your paladin. The guy you bend the rules for.
Nothing.
Hm, I think knowing how Guardian Angel works will be directly relevant to my next actions, since it might affect how I search for Karl. Help Guardian Angel.
Guardian Angel
The paladin spell Guardian Angel is an upgrade to the spell Guardian Aura. The target must be touched to cast. The caster is not permitted as the target. Guardian Angel removes 100% of the damage from a single attack. Like Guardian Aura, the spell duration is one hour or until used.
Cost: 140 Mana
“Caster not permitted as the target? What kind of happy horseshit is that?” The System did not deign to answer her mostly rhetorical question.
The next little while was a blur to Terry, as the group finished searching the broken hobgoblin fort to make sure there were no lurking dangers or unclaimed loot, and then made their way back to the Safe Zone. Terry was going to go in just to switch gear and clean up, look at their maps, and then head right out on their best guess for Karl's trajectory.
That was before they found Safe Zone #3 under attack.
* *
Oh for fuck's sake, give us a fucking break!
Then Terry paused. System, I humbly apologize. You saved Karl—Sir Karl—and that definitely counts.
Fortunately the marsh folk were not using fire. Unfortunately there were about twenty of them, making a concerted effort to breach the Zone. Several were making their way through a broken window into the kitchen, where a fight was in progress. Most of the windows had been broken by thrown spears. The defenders were holding their own, but this mess needed to be dealt with.
The returning combat teams made very short work of the marsh warriors outside. Michael managed to pick off an enterprising scout that was scaling the building, about to enter through an upstairs window before getting shot repeatedly. Another minute, and it was all over but the screaming.
Unfortunately there was a lot of screaming. Literally dozens of people were yelling, crying, making demands for protection or simply begging for it. Terry had no patience for it.
Chenelle was doing her best. Jake also tried, having more experience with holding down the fort and protecting the helpless. But it was pretty clear that these people were going to panic without some immediate goal or hope. Karl being missing was doing nothing to calm nerves and some of the complainers like Ms. Taggert were demanding an election of a new leader. Terry found herself seriously contemplating murder for the first time in her life, so she left the building and stalked up the driveway towards the road. At that point, she heard the squeal of bicycle brakes, and looked up to see Letisha: bedraggled, exhausted, but not being chased.
The woman stared at the house, from which plentiful yelling, crying and screaming could be heard. She looked from Terry to the house and back. “Did I come at a bad time?”
**
They stayed at the top of the driveway and just sat, listening to the distant cacophony, while Letisha emptied Terry's canteen down her throat and ate small bites of an energy bar. They chatted, giving each other random pieces of news, neither up on the full story of anything.
“I suppose it was too much to hope for, to come back and find a place I could lie down and rest for a few minutes.”
“I just want to go looking for Karl, but I think this might turn ugly and I may need to cut a bitch. Half the reason I'm out here is so I don't do it too soon.”
“I really don't want to use my powers again this soon. I'm so fried.”
“I don't know how they work,” Terry reminded her. “Do they burn stamina or mana?”
“Both, depending on what I'm doing.” Letisha fidgeted with the canteen, looking back and forth between it and Terry's face. She looked like she was trying to decide how much to tell. “I can do some things just with one person...or one...mind, I guess, and other things work on groups. I could get everyone in that house to calm down for a minute or two, but then afterward they'd all know I did it.”
Terry digested that. “Right, people would fear you or hate you even if you're trying to use your powers for good.” She scowled. “That sucks.”
“Yeah, it would be a lot easier if I were evil.” She sighed. “That's why I tried to just use my powers in front of Clarissa and our targets. Hey, is Clarissa in there? I want to let her know I'm all right.”
Terry thought back. “I haven't seen her. Then again, I haven't even been in all the rooms in there.”
“Sounds like they're packed in like sardines.”
“Over eighty people in eight rooms. We just lost two people taking out the fort. Three, if you count Sir Karl going missing. Hey, do you have any superpowers for locating people?”
“You don't track? Aren't there a few people with tracking skill?”
“No. Yes. But I don't think their tracking ability applies to someone being thrown a mile or two into the marsh.”
Letisha blinked. “Seriously?” She had a wary look on her face, and Terry could tell why.
“Don't worry, I thought he was dead too for a few minutes, before I realized I can still see his health point total.” Terry consulted it again. “Yeah, he's healing slowly for some reason, but he's doing it. He must be unconscious or something though, because he's not spending mana to heal himself faster.”
“I hate that he's missing. For some reason I trusted Karl. I really believed that he sincerely just thought of me as a person.”
“He's too old to be a bigot, he said. Too bad more people don't think like he does.” Terry sighed. “I want him back.”
“Me too.”
“He even rescued my parents.”
“Really? That's wonderful!”
“Yup. Dad the Druid, and my mom, Barbara the Barbarian.” Letisha stared, then gave a beautiful little laugh, then looked at her suspiciously. “Really?"
“I shit you not. My mom's name really is Barbara, and she is this crazy screaming berserker in battle now.” They both laughed. Terry listened to the gorgeous sound, and then said, “I gotta ask, how high is your allure stat?”
“Sixteen.”
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“Seriously?! That's as high as my agility. I didn't think anybody else had a stat that high.”
“My class dumps both automatic points into it every level. If you want to be really, really pretty and don't care about anything else, Siren is the way to go.”
“I just ended up with Prowler.”
“What's that like?”
“I'm like a bloodthirsty thief without the avarice. Like halfway to assassin. I get speed, and attacks, and endurance tricks, but none of that picking locks or detecting valuables or appraisal stuff.”
“And I'm like the other half. Persuade and trick people, manipulate, like a diplomat or politician. My combat skills suck.” Letisha looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded at the house. “If you were in charge of that mess, what would you do with them?”
Terry considered. “You know, I think the only way to make this less crazy is to build the real Safe Zone and pray it has enough room for everybody and is as secure as we hope it is.”
“What's left to do?”
Terry nodded at the nearby thicket. “Over there is the mill we want to use. We just have to clear it out of spawns, and pray that there's a thousand metal units around here, whatever the hell a 'unit' is. If we can just do that, everything gets easier, hopefully.”
Letisha looked that way thoughtfully. “Want to go check it out?”
“What, you and me? How's your stealth?”
“Four.”
Terry nodded. “Ought to be good enough. Sure, what the hell? If it's something easy maybe we can take care of it and just whistle and say, 'Come on over guys'.”
“If only things were that simple.”
“Well, let's find out. One sec.” Terry jogged down and told one of the fighters on guard duty outside where they were headed. Then they both headed into the woods and faded from normal view.
Letisha wasn't too bad at stealth. She was also really sharp; Terry only had to start to signal something to her before she got the idea and reacted appropriately. Terry pointed out the marsh scouts and they skirted around them. Before long they could hear Twisty Brook, and ahead of them loomed the mill.
It was big, the red brown color of rust everywhere. It wasn't clear if any of the decay was recent due to the System or whether it had looked this beaten up for years. There was a main building a few stories tall and wide, and a secondary one about the size of a large house.
They checked out the smaller one first, or started to. Terry peeked inside, shuddered and backed away. “Yeah, let's just have Tabitha burn out everything in that one.”
“Creepy crawlies?”
“Do you want details?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Good choice.”
They walked around the perimeter of the larger building.
Terry recognized that she had an opportunity to ask certain questions, but was feeling shy. She'd thought she was completely done with shyness, but Letisha brought it out in her for some reason. Probably sixteen reasons. But she made herself say, “so, I have a question...about allure.”
“Do you want to know what it does to you? For you?”
“Yeah.”
“Thinking about putting some points in next level?”
“...Maybe.”
“You're at what, eight right now?”
“Seven, but that was smooth flattery, so thanks for that.”
“You're welcome.” Letisha grinned. “Well, if you really want to know...turn around for me? And strip down as much as you're comfortable.” Terry felt her face grow hot. “This is just clinical, I promise not to do anything.”
Damn.
Wait a minute, why 'damn'? Terry forced some very unexpected thoughts away. Letisha continued, “We're all alone out here. Besides, do the equipping trick with inventory, you can get fully dressed again in under a second if you need to.”
Okay. Okay, Terry, you can do this. You've fought a goblin high lord and a BBD, you can get naked in front of a girl who's about two thirds succubus but on her best behavior. Concentrating, Terry blinked away all her clothes. True to her word, Letisha was looking at her dispassionately. She twirled a finger, and Terry did a slow rotation. Letisha put a hand to her mouth in a thoughtful pose, tilted her head a few times, crouched down a moment, then straightened up.
“Okay, all done.”
Terry hopped into the air and equipped her clothes again, landing with her feet in her Systemized sneakers. Her heart was beating fast and she wanted to scold it. “Well?”
“Your complexion is good and you've got a pretty face. You've got a dancer's build and that's only going to get more pronounced as you level up your agility.” Letisha tilted her head. “The next couple of points won't do anything dramatic to you.”
“Oh.” Terry was disappointed. “What would it do?”
“Lots of little things. Your complexion is good, it would get even better. Your skin would get closer to flawless. You've got some tiny asymmetries that would even out. Your eyes might clear up a little more. Your hair might get a little fuller. Basically things you can easily miss, but will add up to making you more generically alluring and desirable to anyone.”
Terry looked down at herself.
“No, it won't make your boobs bigger.”
“Damn it.”
“If that were the whole secret to allure I'd have a pair of hot air balloons strapped to my chest by now.” Letisha smiled. “You look fine, Terry. Very few people are going to go my route. Attribute points are too precious and the world is too dangerous. Unless you've got a class like mine, putting points into allure would be pretty stupid right now. You were smart to ask me before doing it.”
Terry made herself smile. “Thanks, Letisha.”
“So, can I ask why you wanted to know? Is there someone you want to attract?”
Terry felt her face getting hot all over again. “Not ...exactly. I just...wanted to know about my options.”
“You're fourteen, Terry. And the world just turned upside down. My advice? Don't form strong attachments until we start to get a feel for who's still going to be alive a week or a month from now. We're three days into the apocalypse. Let's get our bearings first, huh?”
Like getting emotionally attached to a grumpy old man who could die at any time. She pushed the thought aside.
Terry nodded and smiled more naturally this time. “Okay.”
Her heart was still fluttering, though. “Um, do your powers work on anyone? Anything?”
“Ah.” Letisha smiled. “Feeling it?” For a moment her smile showed embarrassment. “Sorry. But don't feel bad. Next level I get the Seduce Nun spell for twenty mana.”
“What?” Terry stared at her and Letisha burst out laughing. Terry knew she was turning beet red. “Bitch.” They grinned at each other.
“Enough allure lets me rope anyone in. The active powers cost mana, but as you can see, some things don't turn off. I have to be careful never to sing around people, for example. Charisma lets me make them do what I want, but costs stamina. Switching off between them is exhausting.” Letisha seemed talkative. That made sense, Terry supposed; she couldn't talk about this with most people. She was glad Letisha was opening up to her.
“So you can lure in monsters?”
“Yeah. But Lure in most of those cases means I look like a really tasty dinner instead of wife material. I just wanted to be able to pull monsters in one by one so Clarissa could backstab them. Didn't know what all I was getting. I'm going to miss singing for people.” Letisha looked sad, then glanced away, as if she were shy now. “Anyway, thanks for listening.”
“Thank you for the advice.”
“Happy to help. I remember what being fourteen was like, and I didn't have superpowered stats. Now, shall we find out what's behind door number two?” They had stopped beside the small front door, which might well be rusted shut from the look of it.
“Let me try a window first.” Terry stepped back and looked at the options. The outer wall was not quite featureless. She picked out the remains of an outdoor light fixture, a quarter inch seam about where the ceiling of a first floor would be, and other details. From there, to there, to there, hang and pull myself up. Without preamble she launched herself, and in a couple of seconds was doing a pull up on a high windowsill to peek inside through a hole in the filthy glass.
“Holy shit,” she heard Letisha whisper fifty feet below, and Terry suddenly felt a little better about life. She squinted into the gloom with one eye.
The interior was not fully dark; almost half the roof was missing. Much of the sunlight was still blocked by the canopy of trees nearby, though. Terry could hear lots of rustling, some of it very close. After a moment, she realized it sounded like pigeons. Lots of pigeons. As her eye adjusted, she could see lots of kinds of birds. They were everywhere, on every surface, covering the floor, what used to be tables or platforms of some kind, giant rusted wheels and stone ones.
In the darkest corner there was a raised platform, and something was moving around a little. Something big. There was a shape that Terry guessed might be a gigantic nest. Oh, shit. No dragons. Please no dragons.
Who would be good with this? Terry wondered. Valerie, maybe? As she stared, watching for signs of sparks or breathing flame, she made out a very faint gleam of something on the platform. Normally it would be bland and dull, but with everything else so dark, worn, and aged, it stood out. It was something newer, something recent.
Do birds like shiny things? Some do. Crows, I think? I wish Karl were here to ask. I think he said he was into birds or something...that's right, he mentioned his 'birding binoculars' not working right. Terry thought. What would Karl do?
Her body warned her that she was reaching the end of her endurance, so she carefully shifted, then dropped, kicking off the wall to slow a bit and flipping to land on the grass. And she sticks the landing!
“So?” Letisha asked. “How does it look?”
“Lots of little birds just perching around, like lots, and there's a big nest in the dark corner with something huge inside. Also a hole in the roof so all those birds can get in and out, including Evil Big Bird, who I really, really hope is not a dragon.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I think I want to pry this door open, which will probably squeal like a pig from the depths of hell, and then go into stealth and hope Evil Big Bird can't see through it.” Terry looked at the door. “I don't know that a five strength is going to cut it, though.”
“Don't look at me, mine's a three.”
“The thing is, I don't want to go get a brute because we might need to stealth out of here. Basically I want to trip the alarm, hide, and see what they do.” Terry stared at it. “I think we need George or Jim.”
“Well, give it a try first.”
Terry shrugged and inspected the door. I think we need like a gallon of that graphite stuff, but here goes. She grasped the door handle and tried to turn it. It wouldn't budge. Then she tried simply pulling on the door. She ended up standing sideways on the wall, pulling with all her might, and then the doorknob snapped off. She ended up somersaulting once before landing on her feet. She suppressed a hiss at the pain in her left wrist; the System would fix it in a couple of minutes anyway. It is nice not having to worry about serious injury for long. Not everything about the System sucked.
Terry looked at the door and nodded. “Okay. You go into stealth until I get back with George. I can go faster alone.” Letisha nodded and faded back into the trees.
Terry made the run back in half the time. The Safe Zone was still in chaos. It took a few minutes to extract George and explain what they needed.
“Wait, didn't Jim already scout the mill?”
“He did?”
“I think it was before you got back.”
George was a little better than Letisha at stealth. He stopped of his own accord when they approached a marsh scout. Terry guided him past, and he paid close attention. It was actually a nice feeling having a grown man learn from her attentively. Most of the way there, George's stealth improved noticeably.
When they got clear, Terry whispered, “Congrats. You just skilled up from five to six, right?”
“Yeah, thanks for the tips. What are you at, seven?” Terry nodded.
They walked around to the front on the north side. George visibly startled when Letisha dropped stealth.
“Letisha, I presume?” George looked uncomfortable.
“Yes. Pleased to...” Letisha broke off as the two of them stared at each other. Terry looked from one to the other, confused. Then she understood as Letisha slowly crumpled to the ground. “No...”
“I'm sorry.”
Terry dropped down beside her and held her as she wept. “I'm so sorry, Letisha, I didn't know, honest.” She felt her own heart breaking as the Siren mourned her sister. Terry determinedly pushed everything out of her mind except comforting Letisha. They stayed like that for a while.
Eventually Letisha managed to ask, “What happened?”
George scuffed the ground with his foot a moment, then answered. “I did the tracking and found her. She saved all three of the kids. She died protecting them. Took down six of the bastards herself. Cleared the witnesses, I guess, so they could get away. She was a hero, miss. She was a god damn hero.”
At that, Letisha broke down again. Terry let her weep. George, after passing Terry a cloth and his canteen, stepped back and looked like he wished he were anywhere else. Slowly the Siren got herself under a bit of control.
“What...uh...” Letisha cleared her throat and took a minute to try again. “What did you do with her body?”
“Well, there were a bunch of us there at that point, so we, uh...we buried her...on the property. Near where they put Emma Cook. I, uh...said a few words. We should have waited for you, but everything is so uncertain and changing so fast...I hope you don't mind.”
Letisha was trying hard to hold it together. “We found the spot, yesterday afternoon. Asked about it. About Mrs. Cook. Clarissa thought...it was a good spot. Said Emma was lucky to get a resting place in the middle of all this. So, thank you.” George nodded, obviously relieved that he hadn't made a horrible thing even worse.
They stayed like that for a long time, while the clouds drifted and the shadows of the trees inched along the grass.
Letisha finally patted Terry on the arm and they stood up. “I think I'd like to wander around and kill some things later, if you don't mind helping.”
“I've got your back,” Terry told her.
Letisha paused. “Let's do this first, though. Get it over with.”
“I'm on it,” George declared firmly. He walked over and examined the door, then started pulling various tools out of pockets. They watched him work for a couple of minutes in silence. Finally he braced himself against the wall and gripped a tool he was using for leverage. “Best you get into stealth now.”
A few moments later, the metal shrieked and groaned, echoing throughout the mill, as the door slowly inched outward, then swung free with a loud bang. The birds reacted to the racket, slowly at first, while George ducked aside and into stealth, then faster and louder. It was crows that flew out, not the other species. Twenty, thirty, Terry lost count and guessed fifty crows emerged in a black cloud, but then dispersed as if they were platoons using a search pattern.
Terry held very still, with a hand on Letisha's knee signaling the same. Some crows circled above the canopy, but most flew from perch to perch, looking around. One landed on a branch very nearby, stared right at them, then looked to either side.
Terry heard the faintest whisper of music. A lullaby, or a love song, or a lament, or all three at once. The crow turned and stared directly at Letisha, as she continued to sing with unearthly grace. It flew down and landed on her knee, almost on top of Terry's hand, though it still seemed oblivious to Terry's presence. This went on for a full minute, then the crow flapped its wings and shook its head and then launched itself skyward and westward, away from the mill.
The moment it took off, Letisha stopped singing. They watched the bird disappear into the distance. Terry traced a question mark on Letisha's thigh. A bare murmur floated back to Terry's superb hearing. “I set it free. They're all enslaved by something in there. I think I can free them all at once, but I don't know what's causing it or if it can take them back again.
Terry took a deep breath, then whispered aloud. “Free them all. I'll kill whatever's causing it. I haven't killed enough things today either.” She was mad that she'd missed the entire fight with the kythar, and that Karl had almost died again without her there for backup. She was still deeply upset that Karl was missing.
And she was fed up with running from monsters.
Letisha stood, took a deep breath, and began to sing.
Terry felt the wash of emotions roll over her as the Siren's voice rose to a soprano's aria and beyond, became a trill, a whistle, a staccato beat of musical hammering. It demanded attention, and focus, and then snapped that focus loose with piercing blasts. She sensed frustration, anger, the desire to be free, and felt them all surge.
To Hell with it! the wordless music shouted. Get out of here! Be free!
Live Free or Die!
The crows were the first to flee. Then small birds near the entrance: robins, blue jays, sparrows, starlings, and countless birds she'd never heard or seen before. Letisha was walking towards the entrance, letting her voice gradually seep into the mill. Terry waited for a chance to slip through the door. A flood of birds flocked and flew and dispersed in a storm of feathers and cheeps and caws and trills.
“George! Go get backup! Use the roads!” Terry shouted. George appeared for a moment, nodded, and vanished again. He would sprint up the short dirt road to Post Road, turn west, round the corner onto Walnut and run to the Safe Zone, and it would be slightly faster than Terry herself could manage through the marsh folk-infested woods.
Letisha paused at the entrance, and stopped singing. She pulled out her canteen and took a drink of water, then started to draw deep breaths. The flood of birds slowed to a trickle at once, then died. Terry slipped inside.
That's a lot of bird shit.
That was the first thing she thought as she placed her Systemized sneakers as silently as possible working through the muck. The second thing she noted was that most of the birds were not budging any more. They might have been statues. And as her eyes adjusted to the relative darkness, the third thing she saw was the very angry, very large bird perched on the edge of its nest, as if a hawk had swelled to a forty foot wingspan.
STAY.
The wordless command's meaning was utterly clear, and Terry froze.
Oh shit. That wasn't to me, that wasn't to me, it wasn't talking to me, it can't even see me, I'm not here, goddamn it, MOVE!
Terry lurched back into motion, almost shimmering out of stealth, and resumed picking her way along the wall to get behind this thing.
MINE.
Go. Fuck. Yourself.
Terry pushed forward with effort.
System notification: Willpower +1
Terry blinked the message away. Oh, so that's what that stat is for. Yay, me.
STAY.
Letisha's song burst into the mill as she stepped through the doorway. She found notes that echoed and resonated and built in power, and trilled like a high speed torrent of words without words and meanings without language. And Terry heard it all.
You are YOURS, no one else's! Enough of this, be free! The SKY is your home. Defy that thing!
Rage! Live Free! Live Free! To HELL with that thing!
Never a cage! Never again!
Never a slave! Never again!
Never a tyrant! Never again!
LIVE FREE OR DIE!
The rest of the birds exploded into motion, fleeing in every direction, through the hole in the roof, out the door, a few smashing out the high window Terry had peeked through and others following in the gap.
The giant hawk screeched in rage, so loudly that Terry almost didn't hear it: a scraping sound, from the corner. In the nest? No, behind it. On the floor. Someone was moving. Another rogue? Who else is around? Terry watched the bird as it shuffled forward.
DIE.
Terry saw Letisha flinch and her voice faltered. She wasn't down but she stood there, struggling. The hawk wasn't, though. It waddled forward, towards the siren, ready to attack Letisha while her effort was on blocking the mental command. That's my cue.
DIE.
There wasn't time for a proper backstab, she was moving too slowly, but she could reach the bird's right wing, still spread out in an aggressive display. She grabbed some giant feathers, pulled herself forward by them and stabbed her knife into its wing. The hawk's head whipped around to glare at her and she bared her teeth at it in a savage grin. “You first, motherfucker.”
Letisha's voice blasted out again, now shrieks and cries and screams, focused solely on the hawk. Terry probably couldn't hear her own voice if she shouted. Now it was the raptor's turn to flinch, as it yanked its wing back, managing to lose Terry but not her dagger, much to her disappointment. It turned towards the Siren again, this time opening its beak wide, as Terry focused on Speed Burst, summoning a pair of daggers. No time for finesse.
Her daggers were not the only attack on the bird's back. At the same time, someone else stabbed with an orcish dagger, and she turned her head to one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen: Sir Karl the paladin, screaming a battle cry she couldn't hear as he stabbed again with a dagger in his left hand.
DIE.
Terry laughed and stabbed again.
STOP.
Terry made sure she was stopping the bird from flying away, but it was difficult to stay on it as it thrashed around. The beak twisted around towards Karl who reached his arm out as if to get it bitten off; then summoned a freaking boulder from his inventory inside the bird's beak and snatched his arm back in time. Inventory Fu.
Terry took advantage of the distraction and jumped up to the bird's head, then stabbed it in the eye. Karl tossed her a sword. She caught it by the hilt, and with every bit of her strength shoved it into the bird's other eye. Suddenly she was knocked completely off the bird by a desperate swing of its wing over its head. But Karl was there, and used that thirteen strength of his to drive the sword in to the hilt, stabbing the bird's brain and finally, finally killing it.
But not without cost, because of course this was Karl. The bird managed to savage him with its beak in the final moments. When he fell, he looked bad enough off that the impact with the edge of a bench might kill him. She summoned one more Burst of Speed.