Screaming filled the cavern, none of it human. Echoes filled the air until a constant, hungry roar resounded across the Rock.

When the alarm went up, the people of the city were already either armed, or barricaded inside. All of it happened in orderly fashion.

“What are they saying?” Vergil grabbed a soldier’s wrist as the woman ran past him in the narrow street. “What are those alarms?”

“Invasion.” The soldier wrenched her arm free and sprinted away.

The other soldiers joined her at a quick trot, not sparing more of their time.

“You’re going in the wrong direction,” Vergil called after them, but none seemed to have heard him.

Alarms and whistles now screamed across the city. Shouts. Calls to action. Orders. How anyone could operate in that chaos of noise was beyond him.

Sil leaned against a wall, staining it red with her blood. She held her arm tight against her chest, only slivers of her shirt covering the bloody mess that remained of the limb. With gritted teeth, she tried to speak. Only hiccuped and cringed in pain.

There was almost no skin left on her arm, just raw, bleeding muscle. Vergil shuddered imagining the pain.

She’d handled her goddess’s aid back in Grefe. Why was the effect so bad here?

“Can I help somehow?” he asked, approaching. “Luna can you—”

He wanted to ask the spider to bind the wound. There would be no binding that damage. It looked liked Sil was doing everything she could to keep flesh from slouching off bone, one hand gripping desperately on the exposed muscle. The spider shifted on his back.

“This one does not know how to help. I require Knowing. This one can offer venom to ease the pain.”

Sil shook her head mutely, tears streaming down her face. Luna’s bite would render her unconscious, but that would sever the tether to the helmet. They needed the dwarf’s strength.

A soldier flashed by and nearly knocked her down before Vergil could intervene. Sil screamed in agony, her voice a mewling wail.

He could try and get her to the ward up there, but with the chaos down here it was hard to imagine how he’d manage.

* Leave the wench.

* Fight! Go fight!

* Quit lulling aboot an’ go an’ fight!

* Move yer damn feet, sprig!

* There’s killin’ afoot.

He itched to go fight. But Tallah was up at the fortress, not here to take charge. Did she even know this was happening?

Every heartbeat of indecision was more blood lost by Sil. Her cries stopped but she still couldn’t speak for the pain.

He would do what he’d been tasked to do.

The soldiers could handle whatever it was that slithered out of that hole. He was to guard Sil. Tallah had never relieved him of that duty, and he’d never disappoint her.

“This will hurt. I’m sorry.”

Sil’s pride would sting, but that was a later consideration. She already hated being carried and… well, there was no other way to get a healer to her quickly enough. Vergil scooped her up into his arms and ran, aware at every moment of the spreading puddle of warmth against his chest, cooling as it ran down his stomach and legs.

He’d been covered in Sil’s blood often enough to hate the feeling of it anywhere near him.

She shuddered in his arms. They were far from the stairs. And the way there would be contested. While he ran, she kept trying to call forth the goddess’s aid. Only managed fragments of words.

Vergil’s growing anger lent him wings.

Bloody machine spirit. Sent a nuke through her. We’re not all monsters like Tallah.

It was an uncharitable thought, but how otherwise would Sil’s wounds be explained? Panacea had given her the ability to destroy monsters with a touch, but how much power did that require? Someone like Tallah could channel that. He’d seen her chasing after the dragon. Sil? He was certain she didn’t have even a quarter of the sorceress’s raw power.

What was Panacea even thinking at this? Was she?

“Vergil!”

He skidded to a halt a the sound of his name, looking wildly about. Sil’s good hand gripped his shoulder with desperate strength.

Arin came jogging from a side street, waving. The soldier was half-dressed, as if he’d been woken by the alarm. He had his shield though, but was missing a sword.

Whatever he came to ask died on his lips as he took in the burden Vergil carried.

“The ward?” Arin asked simply.

Vergil nodded shortly.

“I’ll lead.” His tone brokered no argument.

Arin drew his sword from Vergil’s scabbard and ran on ahead, shield up, opening the way through the people moving about in the street.

“Luna, run alongside him. Warn us of danger.”

The spider leapt off his back.

Vergil took off after him, the run easier now that he didn’t need to worry about knocking everyone out of his way. A wave of relief helped him find his good cheer.

“We’ll get you fixed in no time, Sil,” he said, trying to sound encouraging. “You did good back there. We would’ve died if you hadn’t used that ray thing.”

She shuddered in his arms, her good hand making a fist and knocking against his shoulder. She was still with him, conscious. Still, no words.

Arin turned down a jutting side street and Vergil followed. It wasn’t the direct way to the stairs up into the fortress proper, but he trusted the soldier had a better understanding of the city’s layout.

And he was right. Without Arin he would’ve never found his way through the twisting maze that followed. The way was narrow, barely enough for a man to cross it running. Vergil had to slither sideways not to bang Sil’s head against the encroaching walls.

“It’s a tight squeeze, but it’s quicker,” Arin said as he stopped and looked out into an intersecting street, sword held at the ready. “Careful of the murder holes.”

“The what?” Only then did Vergil see the gaps in the stone.

Small windows, the size of a palm at best, just enough for a spear to pass through. One opened right next to Vergil’s head and a pair of eyes regarded him for a heartbeat. He thought the person behind that nodded at him.

Any monster following would find themselves in quite a bind.

* Human coward!

* Arse licker.

* Dry shite!

Horvath was clearly unhappy being denied the fight. Vergil did his best to ignore him even if he also itched for a fight. No, that wasn’t for now. That was the soldiers’ work, even if he and Sil were the reason the invasion even began.

I’m being daft. The dwarf’s messing with me.

Several intersection later, and down a couple blind alleys that ultimately opened up into secretive corridors, they emerged into the main thoroughfare leading to the Rock’s central fountain.

Luna let out a warning cry just before they stepped out into the light.

A goatman rammed into Arin from the side as he emerged. It was testament to the soldier’s reflexes that the caught the goring blow on his shield rather than his shoulder. The sword swung with amazing speed and precision. He buried it into the goatman’s neck. Black blood spurted. A kick sent the writhing creature down the steps.

“They got in deep,” the soldier huffed. He looked around. “Who warned us?” Luna kept out of sight.

Looking over the city, Vergil could spy fighting clusters all throughout. Were there more holes like the one they’d found? Maybe. Or… maybe there was something else at play?

“Come, come,” Arin urged him.

He didn’t head down to kill the beastman but left it screaming in agony. It would draw more of its brethren probably.

Vergil obeyed and began climbing the wide stairs. He didn’t know this way, their access normally done through a side route, Tallah’s route leading directly into the tavern.

Arin put his fingers to his lips and whistled out a long, shrill note. Several moments later, several similar tunes answered. Vergil didn’t know what those meant.

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

Bellows and howls also answered the call, creatures erupting out from hiding places. The first, a wolfman carrying a large, rusted sword, came bounding at them. Vergil prepared to turn and ram his shoulder into the creature’s gaping maw. An arrow split the wolf-like head mid-leap. A corpse crashed to the ground for Vergil to leap over. Sil let out a pained cry at the jolt.

“I’m sorry. We’re almost there. Hang on.” He gritted his teeth. “We’re almost there, Sil. You’ll be fine. I promise.”

Her fist knocked into his shoulder again, strength fleeing waning.

Every surprise attacker was met by arrows. They had guardians up there, all focused on Arin as he took the stairs two at a time, stopping from time to time to wait for Vergil.

He was beginning to tire when a mob of beastmen charged from the wrong end of the stairs. They were coming down from the courtyard above, weapons glinting in the torchlight, fangs bared.

How? Wasn’t Tallah up there?

The first one, Arin met on his shield. Impossibly fast, he smashed the creature in the chest, lifted it off the ground and slammed it to the floor. His sword stabbed down as he held the body down with a foot. The one that attacked next was skewered through the eyeball by an arrow.

Again, the full might of the Rock’s soldiers was on display here. He heard no cussing, just whistling and terse orders.

Arin cut a path for him upward, drawing the attackers to him like moths to a flame.

“Go. Go,” he ordered in a huff. “Get her to safety, then come help.”

Vergil didn’t need telling twice. All Hell was breaking loose in the Rock and somehow he didn’t think it had all to do with the hole they’d discovered, despite Horvath needling him. Sil whimpered in his arms, face gone deathly pale with blood loss. The helmet’s strength had begun waning, as if the tether was fading. If she still had resources, it was taking all her strength now to keep him powered.

A familiar weight landed on his back.

He sprinted the final set, desperate energy lending him wings. He missed the final one. Stumbled. Kept running. There was the ward, just ahead through a cacophony of fighting.

* Watch above!

* More vermin be comin’ down.

The sky darkened and Vergil slipped to a halt on the churned mud. He backtracked desperately as a ball of bodies dropped crashed just paces away from him. They were being flung over the wall again, though the chaos looked to be contained. Tallah wasn’t fighting yet, or she was somewhere farther up on the wall.

He didn’t wait around for the monsters to gather their wits. Neither did the soldiers. They flung down weighted nets. Others with spears struck the creatures while they were still entangled. Silver shone in the light of the Mother moon.

Vergil ran past them all, jumped over the odd corpse in his way, and reached the ward. Relief flooded his veins as he crossed the threshold.

Adella was there, working on the wounded in the main ward. He recognized her in an instant, and she his burden. She rushed over from the soldier she’d been sewing.

“Was she bit by something?” she asked.

“No. Hard to explain. Arm. Bad.”

Sil couldn’t lift her arm, though she tried. She couldn’t pull it away from her chest when Vergil set her down on a spare pail. The girl ran off, calling for anyone with allotment left.

Vergil’s heart thundered in his ears, the toll of a bell that ominously ticked down Sil’s life. His mind raced.

Why did it feel like tonight was some sort of turning point? What was happening? Were the daemons in a panic over the discovery? Or was something else afoot?

He gripped Sil’s good hand, refusing to look over at her mangled one. Her gripping back centred him.

“I’m here, Sil. Your girl’s bringing help. Hold on a little longer.” Blood pooled on the pail of straw and dripped to the floor. He thought he could make out every drip drip drip sound as more of the healer’s vitality drained away. Her lips had gone the pale colour of paper.

She didn’t hesitate for a moment.

The scene of her raising the already hurt arm and taking aim, as if the pain meant nothing, replayed in his mind. He’d never forget it. Was that courage? Or insanity?

“Hang on, Sil,” he whispered, squeezing her fingers. “After tonight, we’ll talk. I need you to tell me what hurts. Ok?”

He also remembered Bront’s words in the tavern, that it looked like she had some stuff to work through. Was something wrong that she wasn’t telling him or Tallah?

Every time he’d fallen, she’d dragged him back up. Sometimes literally kicked him upright. Maybe it was time he did the same?

For now, the waiting was driving him ragged. There was a rush of bodies coming and going. Soldiers limping away to rejoin the fight. Healers carrying bandages. The stink of blood mixing in with disinfectant. The maddening drip drip drip sound.

More blood coated his fingers. He wouldn’t have noticed if not for the warmth. It brought him out of his stupor. Sil’s arm—the good one!—was drenched in blood, the sleeve of her shirt almost black. He’d seen this before, back in Grefe.

Panacea?

He rolled up the sleeve and peered at the words carving themselves into Sil’s flesh.

“Do not abuse. Fatal. Can’t see you. Keep this hidden. More to come.” He read the tiny words written in Earth Standard and quickly pulled down the sleeve.

Luna climbed off his back and nestled itself next to Sil, turning the colour of the pail. “This one bite?”

Vergil shook his head. Sil would be healed. Then she would want to get to work. She’d be furious with him if he allowed her to be knocked out entirely. The squeeze of her hand on his said as much.

Finally, the girl returned with another one, yanking her forward through the crowd at near a run as could be managed in the tight space. It spoke of their long, unpleasant practice that they asked no questions. The new girl set her hand on Sil’s chest and finally spoke the words Vergil longed to hear.

“I require this one be mended.”

White light embalmed Sil. Her back arched. Her teeth gritted together so hard that they screeched like nails on steel. She shuddered once. Twice. Then dropped heavily on the bed, breath quick and shallow.

The scary girl pulled the cork off a vial with her teeth. She spat it away then turned to the other girl. “Get back to your work, Castien. I have her.” The other one nodded twice, hesitated for a moment, then left to see about some other wounded.

The healer slipped her hand under Sil’s head and raised it slightly. “Open her mouth,” she ordered.

Vergil did. Together, they poured the bloodberry tonic down her throat. It worked quickly.

Sil’s eyes fluttered open. She took one look about then tried to rise. Vergil had to restrain her.

“You need… you need to rest, Sil.”

“Bugger off.” She shrugged free of him and managed to rise into a sitting position. Then she turned to the girl. “Adella, how many wounded tonight?”

“Baker’s dozen in the critical ward,” she answered crisply, offering her arm to help Sil rise. “Could use your allotment, lady Iluna. If you’re up for it.”

Sil tried to find her feet. Her arm had regrown skin and looked like a writhing mess of scar tissue just barely holding together. It shook violently as she tried to press weight on it.

“I need another bloodberry. Coffee. Dissolve iron-leaf in it for me. Do you have?”

“Yes, lady Iluna.”

“Get me that.”

Vergil helped her rise, then held her up. For a time, she allowed it. “Had to use one of my prayers earlier. I’ll see to the worst cases. Vergil, get me there.”

Adella rushed away to get what she’d demanded. Vergil leaned into Sil’s ear and whispered, “There was a message. From the goddess.”

Sil flinched slightly at that. “Felt it. Fine bloody time she chose. What did it say?”

He told her and she nodded. “Figures. Gave me a weapon to kill myself with. Story of my bloody life.”

She shuddered and shook free of him before entering the critical ward, the first few steps awkward and unsteady. When he tried to help again, she waved him off. Instead, she turned to Luna and, with a tap on her shoulder, invited the spider to join her.

“Lost my bloody staff,” Sil complained. Then she seemed to remember Vergil was still there. “Stop gaping like an idiot and go help.” Her voice was back to her usual whip-like quality of when she worked, like a switch had been turned in her head. All fatigue forgotten. All pain ignored. “I’m surrounded by my kind. I daresay I’ll survive just fine here. Get going.”

For emphasis, she drew out a bag of ink nettle dust and inhaled it all in a single breath.

Vergil reassessed his impression of Sil. She was every bit as monstrous as Tallah, just in a different way. “How far can I range?” he asked, hand gripping his axe.

“I can manage it all the way to the end of the city. See that you seal that hole.” When he didn’t immediately move, she snapped at him angrily. “Go, boy. We’ve both work to do.”

He nodded once and took off at a run from the infirmary. Sil knew her business. Now, he knew his.

A soldier called to him by name as he bolted towards the stairs. Violet. She was the captain’s aide from the previous day. She threw him a silver sword. “Take care of it. I want it back,” she called as he snatched the scabbard out of the air. She was already moving up onto the wall, heedless of the raining bodies.

* Finally grew a spine.

“Fuck off,” Vergil grunted. “I know my priorities.”

* Get yer arse back t’ th’ hole.

* All o’ this is shite.

The dwarf radiated fury like never before. He kept talking as Vergil walked.

* This be how Lang was taken.

* This be how they buggered us.

* This be how I fell!

* Pay attention sprig and mark mah words.

* I will not allow it again!

Vergil could feel the presence in his head straining against Argia’s bondage, every psychic fibre of Horvath yearning for this fight. Well, tough luck! This is my fight. You get to watch, dwarf.

Vergil ran down the stairs, leapt off the final dozen, and plunged down onto a beastman’s shoulders, sword stabbing down through the collar bone. Horvath’s skill or his own, it made very little difference just then as the monster thrashed under his weight. The soldiers it had been fighting wasted no time in skewering the beast.

Arin was there, blood spattered, sword red with gore. He gave a nod and turned to head down into the melee several steps below. From the stairs they could see the main plaza of the city, with the Ascendi shard spinning in place there. Daemons roiled around it.

Smoke and ash coiled in the air. Flames bellowed out of some windows. There was a pulsing cacophony of chaotic noise echoing maddeningly. The stench of fire and death gagged the senses.

Chaos was in full bloom here, and it needed to be contained.

Vergil grabbed the soldier’s arm and pointed with the sword towards the far end of the cavern.

“There’s a hole over there, by the gardens.” He looked out better then swung his sword in the opposite direction. “Wrong way. I think that’s where they’re coming from.”

Arin took no time in reacting. He whistled and all of a sudden Vergil was surrounded by an entire squad of soldiers.

“There’s a breach,” Arin explained. “We fight our way to it. We seal it. Everything else is now of secondary concern.”

Everyone turned and stared at Vergil, the weight of expectant eyes falling onto his shoulders. It took several heartbeats for him to stammer out his response. “At the gardens. With the berries. There’s a very strong daemon there. There may be more. We killed three.”

Again, everyone just stared. Didn’t they believe him?

* Move yer arse, sprig.

* They expect ye t’ lead ‘em.

* So lead 'em!