CHAPTER 194

The dream finished, and Tom allowed himself to wake up immediately after. It was a simple flex of his will and sleep vanished.

There was a shift of movement near him. “Tom?”

He looked up to see Thor looking at him with a quizzical expression.

“That was quick.” Concern rippled across the larger man’s face. “Nothing’s wrong is it? What do we need…”

Tom held up a hand to forestall the rising panic. He was sure Thor was remembering the dream that had proceeded them having to fleeing into the underground. “We’re not in danger.”

Thor sighed in relief. “But… you were asleep for less than an hour. That’s means…” He could see the cogs turning. “Did you discover something interesting?”

He nodded with a grin. “You could say that.”

“Well?”

“Easy Thor, just collecting my thoughts here. How should I say this… umm… What’s the best wording.”

“Cut it out,” Michael interjected.

Tom took a deep breath and switched his attention from his friends to Keikain. “Our friendly scientist has estimated that it’ll be two to three days before it finishes naturally.”

There were sharp intakes of breath across the room. He, of course, was watching Keikain as he needed to know how the earth mage would respond to the news. If anyone was going to explode, it was him.

The earth’s mage face went white, one hand to his brow and another to his chest. “Two days? That’s. We’ve already been here for three!”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Tom answered. “The scientist is confident, and I saw the reasoning so I can explain why. The circular system is two and a half thousand kilometres long, which means it takes monsters twenty days to loop.” Briefly Tom visualised what that meant. It was like an animal on a treadmill endlessly running. The distance they would travel over a year was extraordinary. Two and a half thousand kilometres was the not quite coast to coast in America which was closer to four thousand kilometres but it gave a good baseline. In a year, each of these packs of animal would travel an equivalent distance to crossing from one side of America to the other over ten times. The pace was… “Which is real fast when you think about it.” Tom blurted out.

“Only on earth.” Harry interjected. “Not here, not with the ranks we are talking about. Here it’s just monster’s strolling from one spot to another.”

“Harry, Tom.” Keikain said deliberately. “No one cares. Tom you were saying.”

“Sorry. The rule of thumb is that between twenty and thirty percent of monsters need to die before a major break in a circular system stabilisers. In this case, that’s between four and six days, but it depends on the right type of monster pack coming along. It needs to be strong enough to clear the congestion and then of the type that will keep migrating afterwards rather than staying around and feasting. Basically, there aren’t too many creatures with those characteristics.”

“We don’t need the details.” Keikain reminded him.

“Anyway, the scientist has an ordering of the monsters in the circular and can identify the key ones capable of breaking the deadlock. Those are the creatures that are two or three days away still.”

“You sound certain.”

“I am. The deadlock won’t break for two days and even then, it is one monster, and it only has a slight chance of being successful. The day after, however, there are like ten monsters almost in a row that can clear it. It will definitely break then.”

Keikain and the other killers looked at each other then back at Tom. “Was this scientist still by itself?”

Tom nodded. “Wait, what are you planning. We’ve already discussed…”

Keikain ignored him and once more exchange non-verbal communication with the other two. “Another three days is bad, but it could be good. We could make it work.”

“I’m not sure,” Sven said quietly. “It seems like our emergency solution is better. The risk of him being too strong remains.”

“No.” Keikain objected. “The emergency solution is not better. That was only if there was no other choice.”

Sven shrugged. “Tom said it was a scientist. Even if we could, I wouldn’t feel right.”

“Stop.” Keikain raised a hand. “Tom, can we still reach it?”

“He…” Tom corrected the other man absently. “He is still in the cave on the roof with an open entry. There were no new defences that I saw.”

“So yes.”

“But way too strong for you to fight.”

“But it is by itself.”

“His self,” Tom corrected again. “But.”

“Tom.” Keikain said angrily. “We don’t have the luxury of not taking risks.”

“We’re not doing it Kei.” Clare interrupted quietly. “Look at Sven. He won’t agree.”

“But the alternative…”

“Is my call…” Sven insisted. “Not yours. We’ve decided that already.”

An awkward silence deadened. With everyone looking between the three with the cursed bloodline. They all appeared like they wanted to kill each other. Not quite lovers having a quarrel but that sort of vibe.

Michael cleared his throat. “Tom, if you’re not sleeping. Do you want to lose some credits.” He waved the two dice he was holding. “It’s fun and will take your mind off stuff and you can tell us why you’re so confident, our friend…” The healer waved up in the right general direction. “Is so confident on timelines.”

Michael’s sole intention was to break the growing tension. If tom picked that up, then everyone else would have too. Personally, Tom was not interested in the game but he recognised why he should make an effort. Especially after Michael went out on a limb like that. He nodded got up and joined the circle. Everyone shuffled over to create an additional spot.

“We’re playing craps,” Michael told him cheerfully. “Do you know the rules?”

Tom shook his head.

Michael winked. “Perfect.”

They tried to explain the rules, and he started playing without knowing them fully. It felt like they changed the rules mid game on him. Everyone else insisted there had been no cheating, but when he rolled a seven, he was refused a win.

“This is ridiculous.” Tom threw his hands up in the air. “That was a winning roll last time.”

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“That was a first roll. This time you needed to roll a five before the seven.” Harry explained.

“Nope, I don’t get it.”

They all laughed at him.

“Come on, don’t be a sour looser.” Michael ribbed. “We’ve all had bad runs and your luck will turn.”

“No.” Tom raised his hands to deny them. “I’m out. I’ll watch. Learn the rules and maybe join later.”

“Your loss. Who’s rolling?” Michael asked.

Harry got the dice and the next round started.

He wasn’t sure whether he had been told the wrong rules deliberately, misremembered or been outright deceived but the roll he had lost on had been a true loss. He had apparently suffered a run of bad luck. They weren’t betting much on each hand, so he had only lost a hundred auction credits, but that was a lot more than anyone else was losing, and he hated losing. It smarted, but the pot wasn’t large enough for them to actively cheat for, so he was probably just bad at dice and remembering rules.

Absently, he watched the game and understood where he’d gone wrong and why he thought the rules changed even when they didn’t. Craps were more complicated than he had believed.

Their fun was not his. So after watching politely for ten minutes he left the game and retreated to the far side of the room where his bedroll was. It was still too early to sleep and just as he was wondering how best to entertain himself Sven came over and sat down next to him.

Tom examined the man and was pleased by what he could see. It was like a great weight had lifted off his shoulders. Sven now moved like he was internally comfortable instead of detesting everything about himself. That overlay of self-loathing that have been so obvious had faded somewhat. It was probably the result of Toni treating him so normally, and Tom had to admit it was a good change.

“Not the gambling type?” Sven asked.

“I don’t like losing.”

Sven barked out some laughter. “I think that is the perfect epithet on your tombstone. Suits you flawlessly. ‘Here lies Tom. He didn’t like to lose.’”

“Hopefully, there will be nicer words to go along with that.”

“The saviour of humanity?”

Tom chuckled. “A man can dream.”

“I think we all share the same vision.”

In the dice game, Michael roared in triumph and pumped his fists.

“I stopped playing because I didn’t enjoy losing either.” Sven admitted. “It’s rigged. I reckon Michael’s secretly uses fate.”

“He hasn’t.” Tom told Sven. “I’ve been observing carefully.”

“He’s not dumb enough to do that in front of you. If I wanted to cheat, I would do it when we’re doing the prayers, to stop the creatures from seeing Harry’s rituals. Ten points for safety and two to influence the gambling.”

“Michael,” Tom shook his head. “He doesn’t seem the type.”

“I suspect for him it would be an investment in team morale. He doesn’t use it to enrich himself just on whoever he thinks needs the boost.”

“I needed a pickup.”

Sven laughed. “Tom. You do not.” The smile abruptly vanished from Sven’s face. “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Getting involved in this group. You saved my life, man. I appreciate it.”

Tom wrinkled his nose. “Nope. I did what…”

“What anyone would do?” Sven interrupted, raising a single eyebrow. “We both know that’s a lie. I made an awful decision, and that has consequences and I’m happy to face them. It took a while, but you’ve helped me get through this, showed us a better path. I wanted to tell you that from now on I’m going to show backbone. Everything going forward will be my choice. I’m not being bullied or forced to do anything anymore. I swear.”

“What are you talking about Sven?” Tom looked at the other man closely.

Sven smiled was a touch of sadness and also a fair bit of genuine emotion. He truly looked like he had successfully defeated the doubts that had been plaguing him.

“I’m just thankful for your understanding and support, and I wanted to express that to your face.”

“Fine.” Tom grumbled, feeling a little uncomfortable.

“I’ve wanted to do it for a few days. It’s just that you’re being sleeping the whole time. I haven’t had a chance to chat.”

Sven glanced at the pile of corpses, which now had insects buzzing around them. “I really enjoyed that fight. It’s a pity there haven’t been more of them.”

“Yeah, I only feel like the real me when I fight, too.”

“I know it’s weird, isn’t it. We’re now back amongst humans, supposedly able to have a more normal life, but there’s something about having the sword in your hand fighting something that will tear the flesh from your bones, which is more alluring than all the trappings of civilisation.”

Tom grinned at that image. “I understand exactly what you mean.”

They chatted for another hour and then Tom genuinely tired, excused himself.

He lay down and focused. It was time to find out more about the trial.

Because he was actively triggering True Dreaming to give a directed vision, it activated immediately.

It took him a moment to orientate on exactly what type of mind he was sharing. It did not seem to be someone that he had been in before … no that wasn’t right. There was something with the way the person thought, every movement carefully choreographed, a focus on preventing falling. How the muscles felt in his skin, that constant pressure on the outside of the hip.

It was the person from the field of miniature trees once more.

Tom was surprised that it had taken as long as it had to place who it was. With Keikain, Everlyn, the dragon he had known straight away the second time he shared their past. This time, he got disorientated. He guessed it was related to being thrown into so many minds that they were beginning to overlap. The way they no longer felt distinct, except the dragon. Her existence was so alien to his own and burned with its own unique putrid arrogance there was no chance of misidentification with her.

But for other sapients, the more he used the skill the harder to differentiate them it was going to become. Especially those whose thought patterns were close to humans.

He considered that for a moment.

This person was not human.

There was no way the ponderous, balance focused thought patterns that Tom could feel it making could originate from a human.

There was a sharp pain on the person’s knee which grounded Tom back into the present, the silent observer once more. He concentrated on getting the context of the current scene.

This time, the person was standing with people… well children and teenagers as there were no adults. They were crowded around him. The man’s eyes skipped over them. There was an impression, the memory of lots of clever strikes on his ankles, then knees, then hips as they grew older.

A sense of quiet pride.

Deliberately not moving too quickly to risk hurting them he glanced around with a sense of indulgence ready for the pain and willing to welcome it. A face, strange to Tom’s sensibilities, but classical beautiful to the mind he shared was peering up at him. There was a scar on the nose from when Flaga had first surprised him and caused him to lash out. She had proudly shown the cut to everyone for months, bragging about her success.

They were yelling at him, making demands… threatening him with harm.

Tom suddenly realised what he was witnessing. These were the person’s children. They had gathered around him to press a point home and his vision had started mid discussion, so to speak.

What was the context? Tom wondered to himself, and focused on recent memories. They had come as an already formed crowd with not a single adult amongst them or nearby. All of his children. Both official acknowledged and non, not that he had ever differentiated even if everyone else did. Not all traditions were good especially if they impacted kids.

Flaga struck him with her nails, digging into his stomach and potentially drawing blood. A sense of pride went through him. That had to have been some type of powered Claw Strike, the mind decided with excitement. To have it at her age… it was incredible… She was a prodigy.

“You must do as they say.” Flaga demanded.

It was the same line that all her kids had been saying, but he acknowledged her regally. Her blow deserved nothing less.

“Challenge everyone around and take their strength. You must preserve your life. For us.” She clung to him, leaving her claws embedded slightly within him so that he could feel the continuous pain and be forced to acknowledge her. He did so with honest focus even if her pleading given the source did not deserve a verbal response.

There was a stinging pain on his ankle.

He looked down. Bludi was there with an enchanted finger dagger that the child should never have been allowed anywhere near. The religious nuts must have given it to him.

“Papa not die.”

And fed him the right lines to say, the mind Tom was in thought contemptuously. This was all a setup. They had gathered his kids and set them upon him to try to force him to change his mind.

It was not right.

In fact, it was wrong. One did not interfere in family units, not for any excuse. The stubbornness and self belief of the mind he was experienced closed up. There was only a single response necessary as far as Tom’s host was concerned.

“Honour demands otherwise.”

“But you will die!” Flaga claimed with tears in her eyes.

“Then I’ll die with my honour intact.”

The dream ended.

It had been short sharp and to the point. This person was being shown to Tom for a reason. It had to be because he was a potential ally and when they met in the trial, Tom was determined to do everything he could do to recruit him. The more aid he could get to defeat the dragon and the insects the better.

With his mind made up and a small amount of amusement toward the family gathering he had witnessed Tom drifted off into both abstract and non-memorable dreams.

He woke feeling refreshed.

A long sleep then, he thought to himself as he assessed his mental state. That meant that he could push another True Dreaming vision when he slept next. It was the perfect use of time spent in the cave.

Tom stretched.

Then froze.

There was a noise.

The sound of someone sobbing. He snapped awake dreams of rough family gathering and new allies forgotten.