I wiped my palm across the fogged-up mirror in the knights' barracks detached from the main bastion. The facilities had been opened to the public living across the grounds to have somewhere to wash and use the lavatory. However, it had been closed off again for the returning knights, and I was using the last few minutes of that time. We were to have dinner with the leaders in the Map Room, and those of us who had been within yards of a ghoul had to ‘wash their scent off us.’

The grey-tiled room had an open layout with small windows for ventilation, letting in the cold outside air to chase away the warmth from the heated water. The shower heads were arranged in rows with short dividing walls, which were more useful for balancing soaps than for privacy. I had already scrubbed the grime from my body and stood in front of the basin containing the helmet, soaked in warm water to remove most of the ghoul's brains.

I grabbed a fist full of my hair while I stared at my reflection and squeezed the water out. It was reaching the longest I had let it grow without a strand getting in the way to cause me to shear it all off. Even while wet, the curls were still trying to come through, and I sighed, drying myself off before I took a dagger to it. I was already covered in fading scars and patches of purple, so there was no need to add looking like I fought with a rusty pair of scissors.

I plucked the warm steel out of the basin and fed the helmet enough mana to fix the dents I had bashed in. Unlike the gauntlet, I was worried about placing the aged enchantment over my head since if there was an issue, something more important than a hand would get crushed.

I fretted over the unadorned metal, turning it over and placing it down again to study. I held it over my head before deciding to tie my hair back and out of the way.

An impatient knock at the door made me jump, and the muffled yells spurred me forward. I stuck my head inside the cavernous piece of armour. It was more bucket-shaped from fitting over the ghoul’s skull and I had to hold it in place while the thin edges balanced on my shoulders.

Sections of metal gradually softened, bringing the steel closer to my face and blocking my vision as the visor was covered. My fingers got caught in the swirl, and I let go before they were melded to the helmet. I pressed my eyes shut as steel ran over my cheeks and down my nose. A band moulded around my chin to keep the helmet in place, and my ears were squashed until the enchantment figured out the sizing it needed.

The excess metal from it slimming to fit me ran down my neck to my collarbone and shoulders. It became more top-heavy, and my neck strained as the metal climbed higher. The last addition was two diamond-shaped holes over my eyes, with long slits to the sides for peripheral. I took a shallow breath to test and slowly opened my eyes.

I could see my mouth through a small rectangular opening and bit my lips to stop the unabashed grin spread across them. I tilted my head to test the weight of the twin spiralling antlers that had sprouted from the stubby horns. They were the length of my forearm, angled sharply backwards and hollow, but I didn’t think they were made with fighting in mind due to the imbalance—perhaps even doorways would be a challenge.

The armour's surface was engraved with swirls and sharp angles, making it look more decorative than protective. However, the only part of my head exposed was my amber eyes and mouth since even my neck had overlapping steel plates. The most uncomfortable aspect was the edges poking into my bare shoulders, but that wouldn’t be an issue once I put some clothes on.

I let the grin stretch back across my lips. The only thing that would make me like it more was if the leather hadn’t rotted away on the chin strap and the metal hadn’t solidified around some of my hairs, pulling them out as I removed the helmet. I set it down and leaned on the basin, taking deep breaths and making sure I didn’t fall over from the volume of mana it had just drawn through my head.

There was a pounding at the door, and I rolled my eyes, quickly tip-toeing to a fresh stack of underclothes. The new red long-sleeved shirt was faded and larger than my last, but more material was beneficial in the cold weather. I pulled up the chainmail hood and tucked my pants into the boots before heading for the exit.

Outside was a man with long, grey chest hair and a towel over his shoulder waiting to enter with a scowl across his face. Others were waiting more patiently a distance away, but he squeezed past me the moment I was out the door. A bell rang from the top of the bastion turret to signal the hour was up, so I knew I wasn’t late as I ignored the dirty looks.

I held the helmet by its antlers and weaved through the growing number of structures across the grass. The only space left was the designated pathways through the throngs of tents and dirt walls that formed the temporary housing. The colours I wore and the helmet in my hand earned me quicker passage through the narrow walkways crowded by crates and tent poles.

The foyer had turned into a creche, with screaming babies and children sitting quietly in the corner bashing wooden toys together. The kids my age in charge of watching the youngsters gave me, and my ill-fitting uniform questioning stares.

A mother with a toddler on her hip squinted at me, and when I didn’t acknowledge her wave, she moved to intercept me on my way to the staircase, guarded by the watchful receptionist. The receptionist nodded as I reached the door and got up to deal with the concerned parent trying to follow me. I caught the start of their conversation as the mother tried to get through, demanding to know how old I was.

In fairness, they were right to be dubious, but I didn’t think all the laws regarding when you could fight applied to me. Plus, a few seasons shouldn’t mean that much to them.

A pair of knights flanked the double doors to the Map Room, and I worried there would be a more consequential repeat of the situation downstairs. The man on the right squinted at my face and opened his side of the door. His partner raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as I thanked them and entered the noisy room.

The largest difference from last time was the giant chest plate I could comfortably crawl inside up on a pedestal in the middle of the room. I didn’t know which unlucky knight had to dig it out of the rubble and donate their mana to repair it, but I was glad it wasn’t me.

The atmosphere was strangely cheery compared to the last meeting as people—especially those in regular clothing—chatted around mouthfuls with beverages in hand. Tometh was with a group of captains and waved me over the moment I walked in. Their group was more muted in their revelry, exchanging hushed conversation over barely touched crystal glasses. A space opened up in their circle for me to join, yet having been reminded that I didn’t look the part and being surrounded by the grizzly veterans, I felt out of place.

“You still have time to take the breastplate instead of that ornamental garbage,” Tometh said, taking the helmet from my hands.

I said the first defence that came to mind. “Wouldn’t it get in the way of my archery?”

Captain Jestile, whose squad specialised in ranged combat, took the helmet and squeezed a pinky through the narrow gaps to see out. “You think you can shoot with this for vision? What about these antlers throwing off your aim?”

Tometh took the helmet back and pulled at one of the twisting antlers, bending it at an angle.

I snatched back my armour. “What are you doing?”

“They’re aesthetic?” Tometh said slowly. “Don’t you want them off?”

“No,” I said, trying and failing to get the armour to repair the change. “I like how it looks.”

“Definitely a duchy knight in the making,” someone in the circle mumbled to the amusement of all.

I strained my arm to pull the antler straight but gave up when it didn’t move, the enchantment registering the change as purposeful rather than damage. “Why are they celebrating anyway? I don’t mean to be grim… but it’s not going well.”

“That is the question,” Tometh said, pulling out a folded piece of paper from one of his many pockets.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Message received. Units on the way to assist. Keep her out of trouble - Jeremy.

I squinted at the note, wondering if Tometh would mind if I tore it to pieces.

“These drunkards think the five days they will take to arrive are guaranteed,” a captain added. “Despite losing half a squad today to a beast we have not faced before.”

“All patrols are suspended,” Tometh said, taking the note back and burning it to ash in a blink. “We’re hunkering down until reinforcements arrive from Drasda.”

“You don’t like that plan?” I asked.

“No ill will to your folk, but we don’t put much stock in them helping out of the goodness of their hearts,” Captain Jestile said.

“Last I saw, your knights don’t have chainmail. What will they do when swarmed by ghouls in their plate armour?” Captain Aderkin said.

“We need the help,” Tometh said, silencing the nay-sayers. “And we have a deal in place for the time being that will keep them from overstepping.”

“I think we’re going to end up rescuing them instead,” Captain Kera said, downing her drink. “They’re going to set up camp far away and hide within their defences once they see a ghoul for the first time, and we’ll end up digging ourselves out of this hole to go save them.”

I shrugged, not having any evidence to argue otherwise. “If they do that, I’ll go out and drag them here by the collar.”

“Cute,” Captain Kera joked. “But they’re pressing into the back gates now, so there’s no leaving for any of us.”

“Trouble,” Tometh whispered. “No worrying news while Jacora is around.”

I watched Jacora, the auction house owner, approach us between the gaps in people. Every group stopped him to talk, but he only smiled and shared a few words before resuming his course. I stepped into the circle of captains to hide better, but he went straight for Tometh. “Ah, Captain, where’s the Drasdan girl? I hear she’s at your hip most—oh, never mind. Give us some space… please.”

A scroll was pushed into my hands, and I unfurled it to find a page full of uniform letters pressed onto the parchment with ink. My eyebrows rose at each word I didn’t recognise, and my confidence in my reading skills slowly faded when they made no sense in context either. There were mentions of addresses within the city, specific laws the document was written in accordance with, and the regulations proprietors needed to observe.

I titled it towards Tometh, who was already reading over my shoulder, but Jacora gleefully explained. “The inn you want belonged to me and was under lease, so this document signifies the change in ownership. The city has obviously compensated me quite adequately. So I did you an additional favour by having my surveyor take a look and assess the estimated property value and added half the amount as a bonus to the deal already struck.”

“A surveyor,” I repeated, my mouth going dry. “Did they find anything wrong with the inn?”

“Oh no,” he said, raising both hands and smiling widely. “Pristine condition in spite of the rodents it sheltered previously. Think of it as a thank you for protecting my establishment outside the walls and… alleviating the worries of some of our more brutish leaders.”

I eyed Tometh on what was meant by ‘protecting.’ He gave the briefest shake of his head to mean he didn’t know about the damage to the auction house, so I turned back to Jacora with a smile of my own. “What do you need from me?”

Jacora pointed to the sections across the pages I had to scribble my name next to. I didn’t add Riker to the document since it wasn’t necessary and handed it to Tometh, who also needed to sign since I couldn’t own property as an outsider.

He hesitated and gave me an annoyed look at being included in my plans. I wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told them about the tunnel or what he would want it for, but there were too many instances for me to guilt trip him to change his mind now.

I leaned over his arm and pointed to the line beside my name. “I think you sign there.”

Tometh scoffed and brushed me away, signing his name far more neatly and with a flourish of mana.

The scroll was rolled back up and handed to me for keeping now that the transaction was done, and Jacora left after promising the bonus payment when he could move his product again.

“What do you think happens when they find out about the tunnel?” I asked Tometh.

“Don’t you want them to?” Tometh asked in confusion. “To find out and then offer you the moon to get it back without a fight? I assumed that was where your scheming mind went when you started this undertaking.”

“No… I want the tunnel,” I said, having not thought that far through. “And I don’t scheme. What are you scheming by not telling them about it?”

“It was beyond suspicious that you were so adamant about the inn, so I was confident an inspection of the building would reveal the tunnel,” he said. “It was supposed to stop at being a small boost to your negotiating. I had no idea there would be so little competence opposing you.”

“What’s all the whispering about, Tom?” Captain Kera asked. “And what did the auctioneer want? Giving you a hard time about his building?”

Tometh hushed her and explained what Jacora wanted, revealing I had negotiated the deal regarding Drasda’s involvement. They also wanted to know the how and why, yet I felt bad lying to them about the tunnel and the timeline for the reinforcements' arrival. However, I hadn’t found the opportunity or need to tell them. It was better for them to prepare for a week of defence rather than the false hope of horses riding through the treeline to help tomorrow.

I didn’t know anyone else in the room, so I stayed by their group the entire dinner, snacking on what the waitstaff brought by and being barred from most drinks in the room. The map table was only used to hold glasses and make conversation. No one but Tometh and his group manoeuvred the wooden pieces on the board to plan how to defend the back gates.

A flicker in the mana drew my attention away from the room full of progressively more drunks, and I walked over to a window to look out over the grounds. The sun had set, but most of the tents and makeshift dirt homes had lighting through spellcraft or lamps. I had no doubt that if any of the people below saw what their leaders were doing a couple of flights of stairs away from their encampment, they’d go on a rampage.

Tometh and Captain Kera came up behind me, having spent most of the evening quietly chatting with each other. “What is it?”

I nudged my head in the direction of the capital walls. “I thought I felt a spell in that direction.”

“You don’t think it’s the light spells below us?” Captain Kera asked. But Tometh undid the latch and leaned outside. Kera leaned into him to stick her neck out as well while I stayed off to the side with my arms crossed at my space being taken up. A deep rumble that could have been mistaken for a roar came from the single gated gap between us and the street towards the capital.

The window pane rattled, and a flash of light radiated above the rooftops from a few streets ahead. A faint scream echoed down the street, and some of those below us took notice and stood still to listen.

“That’s not at the barricade,” Tometh commented.

“Close the gate! Close it! Push!”

An argument erupted at the checkpoint into the street surrounding the bastion, but we couldn’t hear a response to the panicked shouts. Tometh and Kera almost trampled me as they rushed towards the door, calling for the other captains to follow. I ran after them, shouting at Tometh to ask where my bow and quiver were.

“My office,” he shouted and threw a string of keys at me without looking back up the stairs we were careening down. “Get my sword!”

I caught the keys and split off from them to sprint down the hallway to the turret with his office at the top. The spells were getting easier to sense outside, and the panic had spread to the grounds. I flicked through the keys along the string and shoved each into the lock, finding the correct key after several attempts. I shouldered through the door into his office and snatched my bow and quiver off his desk. The only sword in the room rested in a place of honour above the mantel, so that was what Tometh was getting since he didn’t bother to explain.

On the top floor, I had a better vantage than the Map Room. A crowd was forming by the doors to the bastion, trying to push their way inside, and the knights were wading in the opposite direction. Tometh was running between tents on the way to the gate, where a similar crowd was shoving each other to get through and out of the street.

The single entrance that led to the street in the capital’s direction was already overrun as the remaining guards were isolated and trampled under tooth and claw.

Screams of a gargoyle pierced the air, and I followed the outstretched hands that pointed to the source. Climbing up between the gap above a destroyed iron gate was a ghoul with wings drooping from its back. Pale skin with branching black veins was stretched taut between bony frames sprouting from its spine. On its right hand, digging into the stone to pull up its spindly body to the rooftop, was a steel gauntlet.

It crawled along the tiles as people screamed and dove into every gap ahead to escape into the bastion or get into the grounds. The ghoul stretched out its wings as more of its kind streamed in through the outer gate. I wouldn’t be helpful anytime soon by going back down the stairs and trying to push through the crowd. So, I pushed open the window and hung my legs out, scooting to the edge of the sill and sighing at the four-storey drop. I put on the helmet to free up my hands to bring the sword and bow to my lap and adjusted the quiver so it didn't catch on the ledge at my waist.