“Job’s not done yet!” A booming voice broke the silence left by the worm’s demise. “Get over to the bridge. The beast burrowed straight through the dam. Half the guild’s already there, helping with the evacuation.”
George, Donald, and Lestra shambled alongside the crowd of guild workers through the streets of Meriford, out to the bridge over the great lake.
The water hadn’t risen much. From what George remembered the surface of the lake was settled at the same height along the side of the dam. And the dam itself appeared just as pristine- no holes, no coverups. He wondered if there really was a breach and if the commander wasn’t just pulling their leg. But the evacuation was very real.
A fleet of longboats sat anchored below the bridge, with boards linking each one together to create a makeshift dock. Between the hooded statues, men sat in elegant garb, with a paltry portion of their belongings strapped to their backs. Rope ladders were clipped to the railings. They fell to the longboats as if they were their masts.
The three of them took the ladder at the very end of the bridge down to the least crowded boat.
“Scout or escort?” A man in a haughty black hat asked.
George and Lestra looked to each other, neither knowing what either option would entail. Donald, meanwhile, looked out to the lake where more than a dozen lights shined over the water. Some followed a straight path to the dock or the shore while others drifted in erratic patterns. “Umm… Escort,” Donald said.
“Alright. Get in.” The man pointed to a rowboat which had just come in and begun to drop off its passengers.
An old woman stepped out first, followed by what appeared to be other guild workers. “Careful out there,” one of them said. “The breach happened under water. They still haven’t sealed it off. I heard we lost three good men out there.”
One man remained onboard. He wore his hood down, leaving the cloak as a black cape, and his uniform stuck out from the unbound outerwear. A silver-buttoned tunic constricted his posture. As straight as he stood, he stared, his eyes committed to the voyage. He held an oar, its paddle half-submerged.
George had thought at first that the statues on the bridge were of the morning keepers, but if fully shrouded, the rower would look quite similar. He certainly commanded more immediate respect than the do-nothing defenders of the city, so perhaps the statues represented the rowers. Or maybe the statues came first, and both modeled their dress after them. What he wouldn’t give to know the history- the legends behind them.
A lantern led the boat into the lake.
An aura of unease straddled the still waters. The smell of sediment coated the air, but for both the ears and the eyes the closest thing to noise was when one of the scout boats passed close by. Its rower swept softly with his oar. The scout, standing in the center of the boat, pointed a long spear to the abyss. The spear’s bottom stuck out in the air, reaching twice the scout’s height, while its tip- marked with fluorescent red lines- cut the water’s veil. They drifted apart without much of a glance.
George had wanted to explore what had earlier seemed to be a sparkling array of lights and ornate palaces on the shore. It had darkened since- seldom any light shined, likely due to the exodus- but the structures had not lost their luster. If anything, when they arrived, the polished stone and detailed friezes became more enticing. To his dismay, he would not be granted the chance to delve further into the fancy streets.
At the edge of the shore, an old man awaited them, his feet inches from the water. A large mole boasted the only hair on his wrinkled face.
He rushed into the canoe and sat near the front “Hurry it up,” he demanded. “I’m sure you can’t relate, but I have important business to attend, and this little inconvenience won’t make it go away.”
“Name?” The rower spoke up for the first time.
“Oran,” the old man said between discontent mutterings.
The rower nodded, and they left the shore behind.
Midway through the voyage back, a pillar stood out of the otherwise featureless lake. But as their boat drew nearer to it, and its dark, static texture came under the lantern light, it was clear that it was no construct of stone. A grey slime shimmered over the stalk, and a spike peaked it. As if triggered by the light, it shot down and emerged a few feet closer along with two others. Faced with the three tentacles, George realized that the dam was not a traditional barrier meant to block water, but rather the monsters that lurked within. A breach meant an infestation.
George unsheathed his sword, and tightly grasped its grip.
The middle tentacle acted first and angled its sharp spike toward Oran. His eyes widened, shattering their aged lids. George pushed past him and swung his sword just as the tentacle dove forward. To his own surprise, the strike cut clean through, and a blast of dark muck showered him from the split. He glanced down for a moment at his trophy. The severed tip of the tentacle wiggled a bit on the deck of the boat before lying still. What remained of the tentacle retreated beneath the water.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Lestra unleashed a flurry of arrows which kept the other two at bay. She and George stood back to back, as another group of tentacles emerged. Weary of the limited supply of arrows, and his own stamina, George looked to Donald, hoping he had something up his sleeve. Donald crouched, flipping rapidly through the pages of his grimoire.
George swung at another tentacle, which dove toward him. The strike wasn’t as accurate nor easy as the first. It only cut a third of the way through the flesh and pushing the blade through felt like carving a tough steak. Still, it was enough to keep the appendage back.
Two smaller tendrils grabbed the stern, and slowly tilted it down.
A light approached. It lit a gaping mouth with needle-like teeth just below the surface. One of the scout boats had arrived to help. The scout pushed their spear into the water. The tentacles retreated and the gaping mouth sunk away.
“Glad to help.” The scout’s voice was deep and confident. His hair seemed dark, but that was due to water which soaked it. A few golden strokes hinted to a lighter base.
“Thank you!” George shouted out, panting, and drenched in tentacle blood. Lestra smiled back at the scout. But not everyone in the boat was as gracious as them.
On his back from the time George pushed him, Oran clenched his chest and seethed. Was he having a heart attack? To George’s surprise, Oran flipped to his feet in an almost agile feet of old rage.
“You two.” Oran stuck out a crooked finger. “Are you the finest warriors the guild can offer for someone like me? What were you doing wailing on its limbs the entire time? That did nothing- nothing to it! Do I have to bite you?” He chomped. “Because I can show you just how much more damage teeth can do than hands.”
George stared, more bewildered than ashamed. In fact, he didn’t feel at all remorseful of the way he and Lestra fought. The tentacles were the most immediate threat, and surely damage scaling wasn’t an important way to look at things when either attack probably meant death.
“And you!” Oran pointed to Donald. “You couldn’t do anything!? What’s even the point of carrying around that pitiful notebook?”
Donald stood up and brought his grimoire to his body, its pages sogged. He sunk his head and constricted his shoulders. Despite his own penchant for mocking remarks, he didn’t seem to take Oran’s rant well.
George recalled the utter shame he had felt himself after the battle with the Lethodon. Learning that his efforts were just a distraction to the beast and having his chance to redeem himself- to deliver the killing blow- ripped away by Lestra’s arrow. And the scolding he received afterward. It wasn’t a good feeling.
“It’s alright,” George said. “You’ll be useful next time.” He cringed at his own comment. He practically just told him to his face that he had been useless. And he put the expectation- the demand- that Donald would be able to do something against whatever they encountered next. As if he had the right.
Lestra glared at George. But the way Donald sunk his shoulders and sighed was reprimand enough.
It seemed taking back one crotchety old man was enough, and when they returned, they were allowed to go back to the guild office to pick up their compensation.
The guild office was quieter than in the morning- as to be expected without the crowd amassed abruptly to deal with the burrow worm. A few guild workers lingered near the back, while the armored man from that morning stood at the front with the attendant. He brought out a different look from her- more relaxed than her typical exaggerated grin and wide open eyes.
“Hold on, I think I recognize him,” Lestra said. “He grew out his beard, but I swear I’ve seen him. About a year ago, a delegation arrived at Vaaliya to discuss the transfer of the stone and he was with them. I don’t think he’s actually with the guild.”
“That’s commander Morris,” Donald said. “He manages Meriford’s defenses. Officially, no city has regular forces- only their defensive but… awhile back, the council approved the creation of a second defense force. One that isn’t so high-strung about tradition and restrictive as the morning keepers. Morris was to lead it personally, and as you can imagine, it’s a bit lenient with what it’s authorized to do.”
“Huh.” Lestra raised her brows. “I didn’t know about any force independent of the guild like that.”
“Well, that’s because you never go outside.” Donald smirked. It was nice to see him back to his normal, know-it-all self. “Besides, it isn’t technically independent. The guild saw through it almost immediately and forced Meriford to put it under its umbrella. But they still allow it to have a good amount of autonomy, and Morris was kept as its direct commander.”
Lestra nodded and gestured for him to keep quiet. Morris spoke with the attendant, but from where they were, they couldn’t really make out what exactly he was saying.
George wanted to keep back. After all, it was rude to listen in on a quiet conversation. But Lestra and Donald had already moved closer. George relented and joined them, supposing that if called out, they could just say they were looking to get their compensation. Besides, he had his own curiosities.
“What was a burrow worm doing in Meriford in the first place?” Morris asked the attendant.
“Working theory is that it was trained. Burrow worms won’t seek out water naturally. They can survive a bit, but still need to breathe.” The attendant’s voice was a bit lower than what George knew.
“So, it makes no sense that it would go through the submerged portion of the dam without some sort of intervention.”
The attendant nodded. “The question though is who sent it?”
“Can I assume that as witness to today’s events, the guild will have Meriford’s back should any conflict emerge with another city?”
“Yes, it certainly does seem that Meriford would be a righteous victim in such a scenario. But the morning keepers have kept on guard at the gates through all this, and they haven’t reported any force attempting to breach their defenses. And I know that means you haven’t heard anything either.” She gave a smile that George recognized immediately, the same she had given Lestra. Suddenly, she was back to being the attendant they knew, but that attendant was a different person than he thought. Rather than oblivious annoyance, the edges of her smile were sly, almost malicious. She knew. She knew that Lestra would be made to stay at Meriford after her mission. And she knew that her access to information superseded whatever the Meriford commander had, even from Meriford’s own first line of defense.
“Then, you’re saying that the guild doesn’t know who did this.”
“What I’m saying is that if Meriford acts rashly, the guild will not be so sympathetic as it is now.”
The commander sneered. “That’s a joke, right? We were attacked! You know that Ardel has been whining over the water dispute for years. If we don’t respond to this- even if they had nothing to do with it- they will. They will take advantage of any sign of weakness we give them.”
The doors burst open. “Ardel has been attacked!”