Chapter Fifty
Unwelcome Assistance
Michael and his collection of misfits were all woken up early by Jack that morning and towed along to the Forges, where they were to be outfitted before leaving the fortress.
Michael wandered up to the doors of the Forges, yawning broadly, when the company found a familiar, unfriendly face leaned lazily in the entryway.
Jack sighed as he spotted the red-eyed Paladin and said, “Andevār, what are you doing here?”
The pale-faced young man cast a disinterested look toward them and said, “Amekot said I was to come along.” He gave the group a disgusted look and went back to picking his pale teeth.
Jack gritted his teeth and shook his head. He’d expected Amekot to respond in one way or another, but he had to give it to the smug aristocrat, he hadn’t expected Magnus. “Exactly why are you taking orders from Hillborn, Magnus? You don’t seem the type.”
Magnus smiled to himself and blinked slowly as he looked at Jack. “Not big on orders, actually, but on this rare occasion he asked and I happened to want to stretch my legs.”
Jack glanced at the group of Legacies behind him to find every single one of them fuming. He roughly rubbed his unshaven face.
James looked at the old rebel and shook his head. “He can’t come with us. That prick will gut us while we sleep.”.
Magnus snorted and shook his head, “Wouldn’t stain my lovely scythe with pauper’s blood, trust me-”
James interrupted him with a punch in the mouth.
Everything erupted in a quick burst of mayhem. Magnus swung his scythe and Jack caught it high, ripping it out of his hands and kicking him square in the chest, sending Magnus hurtling backward. He threw the weapon and turned on James, grabbing him by the collar and muscling him backward two paces.
“Enough!” Jack barked. He turned and levelled a hand at Magnus who was already back on his feet. “If you antagonise him, you deserve what you get. And if you use steel on someone using their fists, you’re not worth the shit stuck to your bootheels!”
Magnus seethed, split flying as he shouted, “What makes you think I care what you think? Get out of my way! Think you can strike me, Taylor?”
“Let him come, Jack, I want to see what this little bastard is made of!”
Jack shoved James back and drew his mace with a short, cold metallic grick.
Suddenly everything was quiet as his dark mace head hung by his side.
Jack looked at James, then Michael and his company, and Magnus last. “If anyone has any more cockiness or ego to display. Then let’s see it.”
Magnus glared at the man and huffed, stepping inside the Forges.
Jack then turned back to the others and let out a weary sigh. He looked older. “Please promise me none of you will rise to his bullshit again. Not in there. It’s too dangerous. He’s too dangerous. Nikereus is too dangerous. All of it needs to be handled professionally. Got it?”
James held his words like they were poison in his mouth. “If we let him get away with it, he wins.”
Jack put away his weapon and took James by the shoulders. “He doesn’t care about the words. He wants you to fight him. He wants the excuse. And you know its not real. You know that. You have to rise above it.”
Michael frowned and scoffed, waiting for James to argue back, but he didn’t.
Michael watched in shock as each of them nodded stiffly and went inside one by one.
“I’m missing something, here, aren’t I?” Michael said, wearily.
Jack shrugged. “I don’t know what you know and don’t, but listen to me.” Jack lowered his volume and spoke seriously under his breath. “If Magnus goes too far. Don’t hold back. Even if it means using your Arcancy.”
Michael blinked at the old warrior. “What happened to professionalism?”
“Trust me, this is. But only if it comes to it. Only if there’s no other way.”
Michael looked through the doorway to the snide Paladin and whispered, “Will it come to that?”
Jack’s tired face merely shook his head in uncertainty. “Get goin’.”
Michael wanted to ask more but he could read the tension in Jack’s face. “Look after the fort for us.”
Michael stepped inside and was hit by the hot, steamy air, the scent of boiling water, and the pitch of cooling steel all around them.
Archie came darting through the mess of Legacies, his red hair stuck up at odd angles and his eyes red and puffy from a lack of sleep. “Mornin’ every-b-body. I wanted J-J-Jack to bring you all here, s-so I could give you th-th...” Archie took a hard breath and gritted his teeth.
“Take your time,” Oliver said gently.
Archie smiled softly and blushed a touch before continuing, “...give you these.” He brought out a handful of white-metal chains, each decorated with two bronze pendants each, a crown, and a tooth.
Rose took hers and marvelled at the metal of the chain. “Is this Brightsteel?”
Archie nodded. “Good eye. From your very own homeland. Better th-than regular steel, because it’s about t-t-ten times less likely to break.”
Carter held up the two pendants, dangling on the chain. “And these?”
Archie took Carter’s necklace back for a moment and first held up the bronze, curved beast’s tooth. “Monsters. If- if you get within fifty paces of one, it will go c-c-cold as ice.”
Sarah held up the crown. “And this?”
Archie nodded to her hand and said, “That one is a little more complex. If you look closely, you’ll notice just how intricate it is.”
Michael brought his pendant close to his face and saw about a dozen different, tortuously sketched runes upon all sides of the crown. “What do they all do?”
Archie ruffled his messy hair and said, “Id-d-deally, they all d-detect powerful, perpetual magic. Or magical energy sources, if you will. We d-don’t have the Immortal F-flame here, so we can’t sp-sp... specifically look for it, but we can look for powerful magic in general.”
Oliver dropped it behind his shirt’s neckline. “Will the crown go cold too?”
Archie shook his head. “It will pulse with a bright light within about… um- Lain-”
Lain stuck her head around her forge and the thick-armed brunette yelled, “Thirty paces!”
Magnus scowled at the both of them and said, “Thirty paces? If Nikereus has something worth finding then we’ll practically be up their army’s arse by the time it flashes!”
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Archie blinked and held out his hand. “If you don’t w-want it, give it back.”
Magnus glared at the younger boy and rolled his eyes. “Does it work on all Creations?” The red-eyed Paladin seemed to pointedly not look at anyone.
Archie shook his head incredulously at the ungrateful young man. “It works on all the one’s it needs to work on. No others.”
Magnus held his gaze for a second and finally tucked it away behind his shirt.
Archie looked them all over and did some final preparations alongside Lain. They outfitted the group in light armour, mostly studded leather so they could maintain some semblance of stealth and could also move at speed if necessary. Lain handed Michael two more lots of arrows, showing him how to tie one quiver to his travel-pack and the other to his free shoulder. And lastly, as discussed, Nichole and Aroha were each given a sack-load of food to ration throughout their four-day journey.
As they headed out the door, Archie quickly said, “One last thing!”
The company froze.
“If the monster tooth glows hot, not cold... Run. As f-fast as you f-fuckin’ can.”
Lain stepped out from behind her forge and pulled off her apron. The round-faced blacksmith nodded to the young man’s words. “Avery and I helped him design these. We know what you’re all capable of, and we enchanted them only to glow hot if we genuinely think the odds would be too terrible. If they glow hot, it probably means you’ve found their army encampment. But if you haven’t, it means you found something just as worthy of worrying about. In which case, you need to turn and get back to the fort as quick as possible.”
With that chilling warning, Michael nodded. “Thank you.”
The blacksmiths shrugged humbly.
Archie stepped forward and shook Michael’s hand warmly. “G-good luck.”
The company stepped outside and immediately ran into Amekot, standing politely with his hands behind his back.
Amekot said, “Morning, all. Oliver, I need a quick word before you go.”
Oliver held back his sigh out of respect and looked to the others. “Meet me at the crevice?”
Michael nodded and watched as Amekot steered him back toward his office.
Together, the rest of them made their way toward the main gate of the fortress. “What do you think that’s about?” Michael asked.
Sarah smugly replied, “Maybe Amekot found out he’s been sharing beds with another Paladin? We have strict rules, you know.”
Michael raised his eyebrows at her. “Jealously is a bad colour on you.”
Sarah bit her tongue for a beat and then promptly shoved him as Michael chuckled and they made their way after the others.
Sitting high on the battlements, Sidney spotted the team making for the exit and yelled down the line. “Excursion heading out! Open mains! Open mains! Open mains!”
Behind the enormous steel gates of Fort Guardian, the great groaning drawbridge could be heard lowering with a creak and rattle of its many metal chains and wooden boards. All followed by a soft boom, the gate’s massive drop-lock was lifted, and the great doors sighed open, as silent as dawn, just wide enough for three-abreast to walk through.
They stepped out onto the drawbridge and Michael couldn’t help think of the awful murky mess below, as Sarah looked up to Sidney and shouted through her cupped-hands, “One more Archangel coming through! Two minutes!”
Sidney gave her a thumbs-up and briefly waved them all off.
The quest-goers trudged their way up the hillside and after a long moment, finally pulled themselves up onto the lip of the cavern entrance, where Michael, James and Carter had all had breakfast many mornings before.
The eight Legacies looked down into the long dark hall before them and each seemed to let out the breath they’d been holding. The little brooks still babbled and the wind still whistled, but something about walking beyond the first few steps of the cave mouth felt a lot more meaningful than anything they’d done before.
Magnus’ ruby eyes almost glowed in the dark as he looked down the corridor of shadow and muttered, “How ‘bout a little light, Mikey?”
Michael gritted his teeth and decided not to ask him to say ‘please’ and held out his palm.
Nichole stepped up next to the young man and grabbed his wrist. “Maybe we start with torches... We don’t want to lure anything our way before we have to.”
Michael nodded, lowering his hand as he said, “Good call,” ignoring Magnus’ groans.
Nichole and Aroha drew two long torches from their travel-packs and began lighting them while they waited for Oliver.
In the meantime, Michael stepped over to Magnus and said, “Here’s the thing. We’ll both get along better if we just don’t talk, but don’t call me ‘Mikey’.”
Sarah watched as they spoke from a small distance. Her hand on her sword.
“Can’t wait to see what you’re made of,” Magnus said, with an odd amount of sincerity. “Then maybe I’ll know what to call you.”
A few long minutes later Oliver came jogging up the hill, rubbing his temple with a glaze of sweat on his forehead. “Sorry I took so long, everyone.”
Sarah shrugged and frowned at the sight of him. “You okay? You look a little pale.”
Oliver shrugged it off and smiled at her. “Running doesn’t agree with me. Shall we?”
And so, they began their long trek.
The company of nine walked almost side-by-side, save for Magnus, who lingered slightly behind, much to everyone’s discomfort, and they slowly but steadily made their way down the torch-lit cavern. They tried a handful of conversations, but the ominous surroundings seemed to make their endings brittle, and hard to keep aloft with any kind of ease or light-heartedness. Instead, the conversation of their boots filled the silence, tapping softly on the stone floor and letting gentle echoes reply on the odd occasion. The flickering light of torches cast various, dancing shadows upon the walls, and the idle crackle of the flames was the only other noise to really speak above a whisper, and even they seemed muffled.
After about an hour or so, the light of the outside world finally vanished behind the twists and bends of the caves, leaving them alone in the dense dark of the underground with nothing but the rangers’ torchlights guiding the way.
Michael felt his breaths stiffen somewhat with every step further into the darkness. In an attempt to distract himself, he scanned down the line of his companions and let his thoughts wander.
First from the left was Aroha. She seemed to walk like she was in an alleyway in her hometown, looking very much comfortable in spite of how uncomfortable she knew she should’ve been.
Nichole, next along, strode with the exactness which he’d began to expect from her. Nichole’s foot fell precisely where she wanted it to, hardly making a sound as she moved.
James came after. By a first, unfair comparison, he looked rather big and clumsy, but after a moment Michael came to notice that he moved conservatively, rather like any wise traveller knew to. He stepped like he knew the journey would be long, and reminded Michael of their weary marches home from school.
Carter, beside Michael, walked rather like he was stepping on glass. His focus was quiet and rather sharply dead-ahead. While Nichole moved like she was tracking an animal, Carter, moved like he was tracking a corpse, and although he knew not where the body lay, he knew that something was certainly dead. The very grim determination of his walk unnerved Michael a touch. It was rather a strange way to see his old friend.
Rose was first on Michael’s right. She, of everyone, was the only one not paying any real attention on the path before her. Little did he know, Rose was busy wondering where in New Riniglacia Archie had secured the Brightsteel from to use in the necklaces. It was very rare and an extremely strong metal, both light and durable, identifiable only by its paleness compared to iron. Rose, busy looking at the various links in her necklace chain, simply plodded along, stepping wherever her feet wished to take her.
Second to last was Sarah. She walked rather curiously, as though she could see all the way to the tunnel’s end, and despite not liking what she saw, kept walking anyway. Her steps were long and practiced and almost artful in a way which Michael couldn’t understand.
Last in the line was Oliver, who walked unlike all the rest. His hand was lazily laid upon the handle of his sword and his off-hand was still rubbing his temple on occasion. He walked rather like Nichole, spotting every fall and rise before his foot had the chance to stumble over it, and managed to do so from a fairly upright stance, like he was a prince cast down from nobility in some age-old tragedy about vengeance.
Behind them all Michael idly heard the clicks of Magnus’ scythe tapping the stone as he walked. Though part of him yearned to see the devil’s stride, he knew it would bring only bickering far too early in the day.
They had been marching for a hearty quarter of the day with only a break or two and Michael’s legs were starting to remind him that he was more of a short sprint kind of person.
The light of the torches bloomed out wider ahead of them to display a fairly large divot in the cavern, on the right side, where an outcropping was carved into the hall, seemingly so one division of the army could draw into it whilst the rest of the host kept moving. Michael expected there was a few of these along the passage.
Carter, reading his mind, wandered into the outcropping and kneeled to check to that the stone was dry. “What time do you suppose it is?”
Nichole shrugged and dropped her travel-pack on the ground. “I doubt we’ll even know what day it is until we get out of here. But I think it’s probably about time we get some rest. Everyone set up camp. Take a couple hours and then we’ll try to get in a few more leagues before today’s done, if it’s still today.”
Everyone idly agreed and began going about their little rituals.
James opened his bag and pulled out several thin rollout mats to keep them off the cold rock.
Nichole and Aroha divided up some rations, handing out pieces of dried meat, fruit, and some day-old bread to those who wanted it.
James took one of the low-burning torches and sat on his pack with his back to the curving wall. He looked out over the group of Legacies and down the great dark corridor, trying to make himself comfortable. He glanced at Magnus as the red-eyed Paladin wrapped himself up in his dark cloak. James called, “I’ll take the watch. Get some sleep everyone. See you in an hour.”
Part of James wanted to sing lightly, to break wall of grim silence, and fend off the anxiety bubbling away at his heart. But it was not a place or time for song. Not when he didn’t know how big his audience might be.