Tracking down the slavers was taking longer than Arkk had hoped for. The land outside Moonshine Burg was vast and empty. Old outposts dotted the plains, most long abandoned, relics of the old war.
Arkk stared down at Lexa, a gremlin who barely stood tall enough to reach his waist, with a frown on his face. On loan from the leader of the bandits, she wasn’t a proper employee. That had Arkk a little on edge in her presence. The way she looked at him, large eyes roaming over his shoulders and arms, had him a little more on edge. He didn’t get the feeling that she was likely to stab him in the back from the way she stared, more like… she was interested in him.
“So these things are so handy. Is it true they can see anywhere?” she asked, peering into a blank crystal ball. “Anywhere?”
“Yes,” Arkk lied. He didn’t want the weakness of churches or whatever the inquisitors had done to themselves to become widely spread information.
“Like… inside the quarters of your boss?” Lexa grinned, sharp teeth on display as she ran a hand through her spiked mass of bright red hair. “How do I get me one of these?”
“I doubt Katja would appreciate that.”
“Nonsense. She invites me in at least once a fortnight.”
Arkk shook his head. “Just find the slavers. That’s what you’re here for. Nothing else.”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it. The guy Kat captured wasn’t too specific about which of the old outposts they’re squatting in. When she told me to guide you around, I thought we’d be walking to check each one. Not kicking back and relaxing with a garrison-provided map of their old outposts and this sweet ball.”
“This is the second time you’ve mentioned capturing one of the slavers,” Arkk said, sharing a pitying look with Ilya. The elf was going to be the one making sure Lexa stayed on task, backed up by Dakka and two other orcs. He did not envy them. “Why don’t we try interrogating him?”
“Oh sure!” she said with a dark grin. “It’s been a few weeks but I’m sure a competent necromancer would be able to ask a few questions. Might be tough getting his remains back from the wurms though.”
Arkk shook his head slowly. “Never mind. Is there anything else you need besides the map and crystal ball?”
Her grin turned sly as her eyes roamed up and down Arkk. “Wouldn’t mind you sticking a little close by. Maybe a few more orc guards too,” she said, casting a lecherous glance around the small room of the tent they had set up a distance outside Moonshine Burg.
Neither she nor Edvin were allowed inside the city proper. Only Edvin was wanted by the garrison, Arkk had checked, but he didn’t want to risk being associated with her either.
Arkk stared a moment before flicking his eyes up to Ilya, meeting an utterly ferocious glare. He had known her long enough that he could figure out some of what she was thinking. Right now, it was something along the lines of ‘Please don’t leave me alone with this gremlin. I’d rather have Edvin here! Or even the Duke! Arkk! Please! Don’t go!’. With a silent apology, Arkk turned and stepped out of the tent without another word.
Pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose, Arkk shook his head. It would be fine. Probably. Dakka was there to make sure no one got hurt. The fact that the orc had been trying to suppress chuckles didn’t mean that she wouldn’t do her job.
With that operation underway and no immediate tasks from the local baron to see to, Arkk figured it was high time to attend to one thing he had been neglecting thus far.
“Worried, Master?”
Arkk glanced up to find Vezta approaching, steps demure as she maneuvered around a pair of gorgon who were enjoying the heat of the sun despite the cold air. All they needed was a small wall around them to keep the direct breeze off their scales.
Vezta came to a stop in front of him, the heels of her boots clicking against the floor. She cocked her head to one side, looking at him before deliberately flicking her eyes over his shoulder at the closed tent flaps.
“I don’t want to hear a word about recent hires,” Arkk said, moving away from the tent so that the occupants wouldn’t hear. “I didn’t even hire the gremlin.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Vezta said, a thin smile spreading across her face.
“But… speaking of new hires… I want you to meet Agnete properly.”
The smile on Vezta’s face froze in place. “I am not sure I am enthused with that idea any more than I am enthused with her presence at Fortress Al-Mir.” She looked down at her arm. Or the spot where her arm should have been. It did look better than it had immediately after the inquisitors injured her but still wasn’t back to normal. “The magic she wields is given by a god. The damage it can do to me, on a personal level, is concerning.”
Arkk nodded his head. “I am aware. Which is why we should do this under controlled circumstances with me—and that ice marble—present.” He took in a breath, letting it back out slowly. “I stopped by the Fortress the other day ago and checked up on things around there. Mostly her. She expressed interest in learning more about the Burning Forge. Most of her time has been spent inside the forge, molding little bits of metal into small sculptures.”
“And you wish for me to speak with her.”
“You know more than I do,” Arkk said with a shrug. “Better to get this over with sooner rather than later. If she does attack you… Well, I’m fairly certain that ice marble will kill her rather quickly, judging by how she acted in its presence the first time.”
“And you wish to do this now?”
Arkk nodded his head. “It is going to take some time for them to find the slavers. We’ve got until then.”
“If you think it is best,” Vezta said, her tone polite if slightly strained.
“I do. I think it is more than for the best. Agnete should be able to take the final spot in our ritual but… kind of need her willing. If she takes up an interest in the Pantheon, I feel like that is a good avenue to get her to agree despite any misgivings she might have over ‘forbidden’ magics.”
“When put like that, I can see the reasoning. Very well, Master. Back to the stayover?”
Arkk nodded his head. They had set up a teleportation circle inside the stayover, figuring it was less suspicious to have people disappear from within rather than heading out a half a day’s walk away from the burg to an unsheltered area where anyone with eyes could watch them disappear. Today, however, that meant they had to walk back into town.
Walking through the streets of Moonshine Burg with Vezta at his side had become something of a regular occurrence. He wanted to be sure that the inquisitors were aware of him and hadn’t tried hiding because of that. Still, people stopped what they were doing to stare. Even after weeks of being inside the burg, walking through the market caused a commotion.
It always started slow. Someone would notice Vezta and nudge someone they were standing near. Their actions would attract others who then attracted more. In a few moments, it felt like the entire market stopped what they were doing to stare. At least word had spread enough to avoid panicked people rushing to the guards. It still felt a bit… eerie.
Worst of all were a small number of the ones from Evestani. On the border of the two nations, Moonshine had accrued several residents from Evestani. Most were perfectly normal people who stopped and stared like everyone else. Yet there was a small subset with extravagant golden tattoos around the crowns of their heads who didn’t so much as stare as they glowered.
Pious of the Golden Order, according to a few locals who Arkk had asked. As far as Arkk could tell, the Golden Order was equivalent to the Abbey of the Light except native to Evestani. Given the relation, Arkk wasn’t too surprised by their more hostile interest in Vezta compared to the average citizen.
They were one of the main reasons Arkk wanted to finish up with this slaver business and then move away. Perhaps to one of the principalities, both of which were on the opposite side of the Duchy and thus as far from Evestani as possible. He already had one religious organization hounding him. Adding a second seemed like a bad idea.
Today especially felt unusual. It felt like there were more pious than usual. What was worse was the way they didn’t look like they had been participating in the usual market activities. They weren’t standing in lines, manning shops, peddling wares, or even proselytizing. It was almost like they had been sitting around, waiting. Now they all stared at him as one, heads turning all at the same time.
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Yes. The sooner they could get out of Moonshine Burg, the better.
Reaching the Canyon’s End stayover, Arkk had to smile. Partially in relief at being out of the public eye, partially because of the feel of the stayover. The entire place had effectively been taken over by Company Al-Mir. Orcs sat at each of the tables. Some drinking and eating, others playing a variety of games, gambling what coin they hadn’t spent in the burg with each other. Only the occasional traveling merchants stopped by and often not for long.
Getting out of the fortress had done them some good, Arkk reflected. From what Dakka, Olatt’an, and Rekk’ar had mentioned among each other and his observations, there had been some amount of disconcertion regarding the handling of the inquisitors. Sending them into fights they could win, a place where they could spend coin, and just generally getting some fresh air had done wonders for morale.
To the best of his knowledge, there hadn’t been any altercations in the town involving the orcs either. That, especially, reassured Arkk that he had, in some way, rehabilitated the former raiders.
Up the stairs and beyond a door guarded by the other two gorgon, Arkk stepped into a complex ritual circle drawn on the ground. A touch of magic and Arkk found himself a day’s walk away from Moonshine Burg, nestled between a pair of craggy rocks. Two steps forward and he was in another ritual circle. It took several more hops—Moonshine Burg was by far the furthest he had ever been from Langleey—but he eventually found himself in one of the decrepit corridors of the trashed false fortress. From there, he simply used his abilities as Keeper of the Heart to transport himself into Fortress Al-Mir proper.
He took in a deep breath and let it out in a content sigh.
Home.
As he mentioned to Vezta, it had only been a few days. Still, knowing that the fortress was, in some way, literally him… he couldn’t help feeling that he didn’t belong far away from it.
Vezta, pulled from the false fortress, appeared at his side a few moments later.
“Savren and Zullie were arguing about something the other day,” he said. “Why not see if it is something you can resolve while I go and speak with Agnete… make sure she doesn’t incinerate you on sight.”
Vezta bowed. “Most magnificently magnanimous, my Master.”
Arkk leveled a glare at Vezta, not bothering to give her the satisfaction of commentary before sending her off toward the library.
People had been doing that more and more lately. Usually whenever Savren came up in conversation. He hoped it was just people mocking him but… perhaps he needed to take Zullie aside and ensure that Savren’s curse wasn’t spreading. Or that Savren wasn’t trying to spread his curse around as he had with the flawed ritual in Hope Village.
Arkk didn’t think he was doing the latter. Able to examine the entirety of the traversable areas of the fortress in only a few seconds, he couldn’t find any ritual circle like the one he had destroyed. It wasn’t possible to dig through the reinforced walls or floors either, leaving no possibility that Savren had somehow hidden a curse-spreading ritual somewhere out of sight. Still…
Shaking his head, making a note for later, Arkk moved himself in front of Agnete’s quarters.
Like most doors in Fortress Al-Mir, this door had been refurbished from one of the original doors left behind. Even now, he wasn’t quite sure about all the rules in this place. Gold could form entire rooms including furnishings or raw materials but not other things, like doors, which required skilled labor to produce from those raw materials. Yet the lesser servants could repair many existing things, like doors and floors and walls, all without consuming gold or raw materials. They just performed some magical dancing and everything came out brand new. There were limitations. Once something was destroyed beyond a reasonable point of repair, it would have to be replaced entirely.
That meant he only had a limited number of doors to move around before he would have to occupy blacksmith time with making new ones. If he wanted wooden doors, he would have to recruit John’s assistance as well. So far, that hadn’t been an issue.
So far…
The metal frame of Agnete’s door sagged and drooped, barely managing to hold in the wooden boards. The wood wasn’t really wood so much either. Rather, it had turned to a brittle, black charcoal. The lesser servant was trying to perform its magic. That was probably the only reason the door was still intact but it looked like a losing battle.
“Do the best you can,” Arkk said to the poor bundle of pulsating black slime, mouths, and eyes.
He would have to see about getting the door replaced. Maybe Savren or Zullie could figure out a way of making the doors magically resistant to heat.
In the meantime, Arkk retrieved a thick leather glove from the smithy and gently knocked on the door.
The wooden panels crumbled under his touch. Even with as light a knock as he could manage, the panel he touched fell apart. The one next to it fell as well, then the next one over. The chain reaction spread through the door until it was nothing but a cloud of ashy dust. The warped bits of metal clattered to the floor around his feet. Hot, dry air rushed out, enveloping him.
The lesser servant looked up at him. It wasn’t human. It didn’t have a human face let alone the ability to make anything resembling a recognizable expression. He still felt the withering look it gave him, like he had just wasted all its efforts at keeping the door intact.
“Sorry,” Arkk said.
“It was my fault.”
Glancing up, Arkk found Agnete standing at the back of the room, just beyond the cracked throne, staring into a large mirror that hadn’t been present the last time Arkk visited her room. She looked… calmer than when Arkk last saw her. Her muscled back wasn’t as tense as before.
Arkk, blinking, realized he could see her muscled back. “Sorry,” Arkk said again. “I didn’t mean to just barge in. The door—”
“I noticed its state the other day,” Agnete said, turning. She knelt down next to the large throne and popped open a large stone chest that matched with the cracked and molten throne. Withdrawing a long black overcoat, she threw it on and began buttoning up the front. “Since then, I have been trying to rein myself in. This place is freedom unlike any I have experienced—slight elevation in ambient temperature would have the inquisitors upset with me—but I suppose there is cause for restraint even now.”
“That’s good. I’m honestly not sure how to handle you. I would rather not be comparable to the likes of Darius Vrox but at the same time, I would prefer the fortress intact.” Arkk reached out with the glove, snapping a piece of the frame off the wall with little effort. He tossed it to the lesser servant, who formed a mouth in just the right spot and swallowed it whole. “I’ll see about getting a more durable door put in instead. A solid metal one.”
Turning back to Agnete, Arkk stumbled in place. Her face was turned toward the door now. The glowing lines on her face and bright embers in the depths of her pupils made his heart skip a beat. It was no wonder people ran from him when he made his eyes glow if that was what greeted them. But Agnete wasn’t staring at him. Her eyes were on the lesser servant, watching with intent as it consumed the remainder of the door.
“The horror from beyond the stars…”
“Vezta would be upset to hear that.”
Glowing eyes flicked over to Arkk as Agnete raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Vezta is my… assistant? She calls herself a servant. This is just a lesser servant. Vezta is the pre-Calamity monster that you inquisitors have been so upset about.” Arkk knelt to pat the lesser servant on its… itself. “She looks more human though. In fact, she is an almost duplicate of the little tailor servant you met when you first arrived.”
“It bit me.”
Arkk let out a small chuckle, thinking back. He had been watching when that happened. If he remembered right, Agnete had been poking and prodding the lesser servant. Probably trying to figure out what it was.
“They’ve been avoiding me,” Agnete said, interrupting Arkk’s reminiscing. “I’ve felt them around but every time I turn my head, they’re gone. These are the horrors from beyond the stars? But it is… cute. Not how Greesom described them at all.”
Arkk snapped his head over to Agnete, both eyebrows climbing up his forehead. While he had long since gotten used to them, calling them cute was a bit much. And this was the first time she was seeing them. Everyone else had strong words to say about them, even if they also got used to them eventually.
Ilya still didn’t like them.
“Why do the inquisitors call them horrors from beyond the stars? Vezta has quite a negative view on that term.”
“Horror?”
“No. The beyond the stars part. I think she would prefer horror from the stars.” Arkk shrugged. “I don’t really get it either but the distinction seems important to her. How did the inquisitors come by the name?”
Agnete slowly shook her head. “I told you when you offered me your false choice, I have never been privy to the operations of the inquisitors. I believe you put it best when you said that I was little more than an attack dog on a leash.”
“Ah—”
“However, I can make guesses. We are dispatched by Oracles. I know little about them other than their supposed prophetic visions, which are what direct the inquisitors as a whole. I understand that a vision directed the inquisitors to me in my youth.” She paused, eyes losing focus for a long moment before she shook her head, sending her wild dark hair thrashing around her. “My only real experience with such visions comes from Greesom. He could receive lesser revelation. Vague and imprecise, interpreting it nonetheless brought us to several incidents.”
“That… sounds familiar. I think Vrox mentioned these oracles to me before.”
“I am not sure what transpired. We were on another assignment, investigating an issue in the Kingdom’s southern desert when we received urgent orders to head up to the Duchy. Immediately. We abandoned our then-current assignment without resolution and relocated to find you.”
“And Vezta…”
“Judging by the urgency, it is unlikely the inquisitors will give up. With my presence, they may elevate this issue to a full crisis and send more than just a single inquisitor, a chronicler, and a purifier.”
Arkk nodded, leaning up against the doorframe. “Yeah. I figured something like that would happen. I’m hoping I’ve thrown them off the track a bit. I told Vrox that I would be abandoning the area they found me in. Then, this last week or so, I and Vezta have been very visible on the far side of the Duchy, making sure everyone has seen us moving around. I’ve even asked Vezta to unleash some of her tentacles as we walked around some of the larger burgs, just to get rumors flying around.”
“That may work for a time. Greesom’s visions are vague and difficult to understand. They pointed us in the right direction but then we had to rely on information gathering from villagers and other local avenues. But I doubt your efforts will be a permanent solution.”
“Yeah. I figured that as well.”
“I will fight,” Agnete said, squaring her shoulders as she stared at Arkk. “Or I will die. Unfortunately, I am not the only purifier among the ranks of the inquisitors. The Binder you took from Vrox is not the only one. My efforts against them will be limited.”
“I’m hoping to have a more permanent solution. Or… at least more help. I’m preparing a large ritual,” Arkk started, taking the opportunity to shift the topic back to one of his original purposes in coming here. “One that, while forbidden magics, I’m sure, will hopefully be a first step in changing the world for the better. In addition, it might let you find out more about the Burning Forge and… what made you you. Would you like to hear about it?”
Agnete stared for a long moment before dipping her head in a brief nod.