It seems more and more likely that Striker is responsible for the disappearance of Prince Eric and Prince Dahr from the palace at Rish. Most people are assuming she is the enemy we have been waiting for, but Maynor has often said that drawing conclusions in the absence of facts can be dangerous. Is it possible she is an ally? Every piece of information we get only raises new questions. It’s like having to solve a maze that you can’t find a way to enter.

The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu

Seventeenth of Learning 1142

Striker, Dahr and Eric walked through gentle hills covered with tall grass and the occasional tree. Eric still had a dreamy smile on his face that intensified whenever his gaze wandered to Striker. Ahead of them, often hidden in the grass, the kreve led the way. Striker could still sense her, even when she wasn’t visible. If there was any danger nearby, Stalker would warn her.

Dahr watched her surreptitiously but looked away whenever she tried to meet his eyes. Eric was a known quantity, a servant of Sheba. Dahr was something else entirely. Something she didn’t understand, and that was always dangerous. Before she could formulate a question, Dahr spoke.

“Striker, how can you be undead?”

“Isn’t that what you call people who died and have come back?”

“Well yes, but the undead I’ve seen are usually rotting, decrepit, wretched things. They don’t talk at all, and there’s no way you’d ever mistake one for a human.”

“You’ve seen undead?”

“Many. In the Other Realm.”

“Aren’t you a bit young to have transitioned?”

“Sort of? It’s a long story. I’m Level 4, if that tells you anything.”

Striker’s eyes widened. “I was fourth level not too long ago. How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

“And you’re fourth level? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Nor does it make sense that you’re undead. Did you actually die?”

“I did.”

“How did it happen?”

“Let’s just say that some animals aren’t meant to be hunted when you’re low level.”

“So you were killed by an animal, and then what?”

“I have no idea. I was dead. How could I possibly know what happened after that? Presumably someone buried me, but who that would be I have no idea. The team I was hanging out with back then wouldn’t have had the time, because they were, like me, running for their lives. For all I know we were all killed that day. It’s possible in our wild flight we had accidentally crossed into the Plains of Xarinos without realizing it, or perhaps we were just close enough to the border. But at some point, someone buried me, and I came back. Fortunately, it was a shallow grave, and I was able to claw my way out of it. Not one of my favorite moments, I must say.”

Dahr shuddered. “If you’re undead, why do you look human?”

“It’s how I started off. Why shouldn’t I look human?”

“What about the wounds you died with?”

“They healed.”

“What do you mean they healed? You can’t heal wounds if you’re dead.”

“You can’t walk around if you’re dead either, but here we are.”

Dahr started to say something, but apparently thought better of it. However, he wasn’t the type to stay silent for any length of time, much like Striker herself.

“So, what was it like coming back? Did you know you would?”

“I had no idea. After I’d reached the surface, I coughed up dirt, and spent a while trying to catch my breath before I noticed I didn’t have any. Only a short time later I realized that I couldn’t feel Sheba anymore. That was painful. Probably the worst thing about being dead. She had always been there…well, since my transition anyway. But while I was searching for her, inside, I found something else.”

“The Undead King.”

She nodded. “You don’t level after you’re dead because death severs your connection to your god, but you get to keep the skills you already had. At least it happened that way for me. I was fourth level for a very long time.”

“But you’ve leveled now. Did you somehow find your way back into Sheba’s good graces?” Dahr looked at her hopefully, but Striker was already shaking her head.

“I’m afraid not. The truth is, I don’t know how I leveled. And I still can feel my connection to the Undead King.”

“I’ve heard of Beast Masters before. I’ve always assumed it was a class associated with Sheba.”

“It is.”

“So you got it from Sheba?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t know how I got it.”

“It’s okay, a lot of strange things have happened to me too,” he smiled. She thought he was attempting to be charming and couldn’t deny it was working.

Striker returned his smile. “I had assumed.”

They walked in silence for a while, each trying to formulate questions that the other would actually answer. Dahr was the first to speak.

“Why did you take us?”

Striker looked surprised. “You can’t figure it out?”

“You think we’re a threat to the undead.”

“Are you?”

“I’m fourth level, Striker. Eric is fifth. What is it you think we can do that the armies on your doorstep can’t?”

Striker shrugged. “There is much we don’t understand, but we’ll find out. If it comes to war, we’re going to win it, the same way we won the last one.”

“You didn’t win the last one,” Dahr pointed out.

Striker laughed. “Didn’t we? We accomplished exactly what we set out to do. That’s the pride of your people. You only think in your own terms. You thought we were trying to expand our territory, but we were never interested in that. You were always safe from us. But that didn’t stop Death’s Doorstep from sending hunting parties in after us.”

Dahr didn’t say anything. She had expected him to deny it, but he didn’t. She continued.

“It went on for years. Human parties entering the Plains, putting us down and burning our corpses, because we were different. Because they were scared. And eventually we struck back. Not because we wanted territory. We couldn’t hold that land if we wanted to.”

“Then why did you attack?”

Striker shrugged. “Probably not something you need to know.”

“It stopped the attacks,” Dahr realized.

“It did. Humans were suddenly too scared to traverse the Plains. They were scared of antagonizing the Undead King, and that was all we wanted. You’ve left us alone, so we’ve left you alone. You know, Loralei has had a treaty with us for well over a hundred years, and it’s worked out just fine.”

“As long as they send you their corpses.”

She stopped walking and turned to look at him. “What gave you that idea? Why would we want or need their corpses?”

The complete surprise in her voice led Dahr to believe that the rumors weren’t true after all. “Sorry. It’s just something people say.”

“Humans don’t understand us at all. Fortunately humans aren’t the only race in the world. We get along with most other races pretty well. And we honor our treaties. Maybe ending the undead problem is something as simple as signing a piece of paper.”

Dahr thought about that as they resumed walking. This whole experience hadn’t been anything like he’d pictured it would be. It’s true Striker had displayed some pretty impressive powers, but she didn’t seem particularly hostile. She was wearing away what he thought he knew about undead. The problem was, he wasn’t sure if this was real or some sort of act. She seemed like a very good actor. She must have been to fool so many people for so many years.

“You know,” she said, “We are fine as things stand, even now. You were leaving us alone. We don’t really care about the armies in Final Hope. They can’t really do much, unless we enter your territory, which we have no intention of doing.”

“You left your territory.”

“Because I wasn’t happy there. We’re not one big happy family. We’re not slaves. We do serve the Undead King, because he’s the one that keeps us animated, but we’re not required to obey, because he’s not a tyrant. Or so they say, he was gone before I rose from my grave. But I’ve met his queen and quite like her. I had always wanted to be an adventurer, the life style appealed to me, and so I left to do that. It’s not like there’s a chapter of the guild on the Plains of Xarinos.”

Dahr nodded. “That makes sense.”

“We have no issue with the existing situation, and could have left it this way forever, but then everything changed.”

Dahr nodded, understanding. “Merck’s prophecy. And by some mad coincidence, you happened to be there to find out about it.”

Striker shrugged. “I’m not sure it was a coincidence. The more I hear, the more I feel like we’re in the hands of the gods now. This is their game we’re playing. We’re merely pawns. I’ve made my move, now it’s yours.”

“There’s not really much I can do.” He gestured to Eric. “I won’t leave him with you, and I can’t get him away from you. I’m as much a prisoner as he is.”

“Maybe so. But there are stranger powers at work here, beyond anything I’ve ever heard of. If someone had told me this as a bedtime story when I was young, I’m not sure I would have bought it.”

“I would have. I love stories like this.”

“Tell me about your class.”

“No.”

She stopped and looked at him.

“What if I threatened to hurt Eric?”

“You won’t hurt Eric.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“It wouldn’t benefit you in any way. He’s the only reason I’m cooperating, and you want me cooperative for whatever reason. If you really wanted to, you could have kissed me and taken the information that you wanted. You didn’t.”

She smiled, like a proud parent. “And why do you think I didn’t?”

“Because you know nothing about my class, my powers or my god. If I were to reveal that information, I’d lose a major advantage, wouldn’t you say?”

“I might just try it anyway.”

Dahr grinned. “Go for it. I’m dying to know what will happen.”

He looked right into her eyes.

“I forgot, you’re fourteen. Your hormones are probably all over the place. Of course you’d want me to kiss you. But you’re far too young for me. So is Eric for that matter. Remember, I’m older than I look. Look me up in a decade.”

“Why did you pick Maynor? You could have done that with anyone. Even the king.”

“Maynor had the access I needed and he’s less watched than the king. This way, I don’t piss off Queen Treya, which I really didn’t want to do. She’s dangerous, and still potentially an ally in all this.”

“Wait, Queen Treya could be your ally?”

“She could. She’s far more reasonable than King Terrence and, unlike him, she didn’t fight in the Undead War. If a treaty is to be negotiated, it’ll be with her, not with King Terrence.”

“You really believe that we could make peace with the Undead King.”

“There’s nothing stopping you. Nothing stopped Loralei, and they’re profiting nicely. I’m not sure why it would be any different with Twyl.”

“So, in order to get a treaty with Twyl, you kidnapped the heirs? That seems like a backwards way to go about it.”

Striker shrugged. “It wasn’t my idea. I’m just following orders.”

“Whose orders?”

“You know, I’m beginning to wonder that myself.”

Dahr studied her face, but Striker was pretty sure he wasn’t going to learn anything that way. She probably didn’t know much more than he did. She did know that the Undead King couldn’t give levels, and that she was still connected with him, but something had leveled her. Most likely the same entity that had gifted her Stalker. Someone was trying to either suborn her loyalty or use her against her will. Perhaps even against his will. Without knowing more, every move she made was dangerous, not only to her, but to those around her. She sincerely hoped that the princes wouldn’t be hurt in this game, whatever it turned out to be.

Striker wasn’t sure of much, but she did have one strong feeling. Whatever the game was, she was absolutely convinced that every piece on the board thus far was expendable.

*

Chari paced back and forth in her room. She had made the two guards her father had sent with her wait in the corridor. For all practical purposes, she was confined to quarters until her father gathered a team of guards to follow her around. Now what was she going to do? Kalutu was watching her. She glanced at him as she paced, annoyed.

“Aren’t you going to say something?”

“Am I supposed to?”

She frowned. “Yes. It’s your job to fill in for Dahr when he’s not here.”

“It is? I wasn’t aware.”

“Well, now you are.”

“Okay…what do you hope to accomplish at the temple?”

“We’re never going to be able to go after them if we don’t get away from the guards, but even then we’d still have to escape the palace. Once we’re at the temple, we’re halfway to getting away. We just have to find a way to lose the guards. We need help.”

“I don’t think High Priest Veloran is going to help us.”

“I know that.”

Kalutu started pacing and thinking, unconsciously mimicking Chari. They walked back and forth together, trying to come up with a plan.

“There used to be four of us, and we’re down two,” said Chari, stopping momentarily to get the thought out. “But the only people I think we might convince to help us are loyal to King Terrence.”

“You mean Maynor and Leata.”

“I do.”

“I had also had that thought and came to the same conclusion. You could appeal to Sheba directly, though.”

Chari laughed. “I’m not favored like Dahr or Eric, or even Queen Treya.”

“I wouldn’t wager on that,” said Kalutu. “Still, I would think Sheba would want you to try to solve your own problems first. From what I’ve observed, she seems to want strong people of action. Dahr’s god has been far more forthcoming with direct help than Sheba. Perhaps we could appeal to him.”

“To George?”

“Why not?”

Chari shrugged. “You’re right. We have to try something. George, if you can hear us, send us a sign.”

No response.

“George, we’re trying to go after Dahr, who you have chosen above all others. If you want us to go after him, we’ll need your help.”

Again nothing. Chari waited for a couple of minutes then sighed.

“Dahr makes it look so easy.”

“You know,” said Kalutu finally, “I think I might know someone who can help.”

“You do?” Chari stopped pacing and studied the were-owl. “You’ve only been here a short time, how do you know anyone?”

“How hard would it be to get to the Adventurer’s Guild?”

“For me, probably impossible, but I doubt anyone has a guard on you. You could probably leave the palace if you wanted. No one ordered you to stay, right?”

“That’s true. You think the guards would just let me go?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Okay, so we can go to the Temple and from there it’s only a short walk to the guild section of Rish, right?”

“I think so. What did you have in mind?”

Kalutu shrugged. “There’s a group of familiars that approached me to join them.”

“Familiars?”

“Well, two of them spoke with me. But they might know how to get out of the city. They belong to an organization of familiars.”

“That’s so strange. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“They’ve all lost their masters. I can’t even imagine what that’s like. But I’ll bet they’d be sympathetic to a familiar in danger of suffering that same loss.”

“You think they’d help us?”

“We won’t know until we ask. Or I ask, since you’ll be stuck in the temple.”

“We can use all the help we can get.”

At that moment, there was a sharp rap on the door. Chari was closer and opened it. Outside stood a handful of guards, but the one who had knocked was Sart.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m leading the party to protect you while you go to the temple to pray, and believe me, princess, your father made it quite clear that you were going nowhere but to the temple and coming back here.”

“Did you tell my father what I told you to tell him?”

“I did. And then I told him why. He agreed with me. He doesn’t trust Kalutu any more than I do. That was why he put me in charge of this detail.”

“I see.”

She looked at Kalutu. “We can go argue with my father, but I assure you that’s a waste of time. I guess we’re stuck with this idiot.”

Sart looked incredibly smug. Chari bared her teeth. Kalutu just shrugged.

“Princess Chari, I believe that this man, as incompetent as he is, will suffice to protect you. And just imagine the trouble he’ll be in, if he managed to lose you.”

“There’s no chance of that,” said Sart. “I don’t know what kind of guards you’re used to dealing with, but royal Melar guards are some of the best trained in the world.”

Chari smirked. “I’m surprised you know which end of the sword to pick up, but whatever. I’m ready to go. Keep up if you can.”

With those words, she strode out of the room, Kalutu falling in immediately behind.

Sart only took a second to form the guards up, and they charged after.

But before he caught up, Chari turned to Kalutu.

“I am so going to burn this guy. We’ll travel together to the temple. I go in, you keep going. Do what you have to to get the help we need. I’ll be waiting for you in the temple.”

Then the guards were in earshot, so further conversation was impossible.

*

The Misfits of Karmenon had followed Garne from the throne room to the palace store room. They couldn’t believe their eyes. None of them had ever seen a shop as well stocked. Anything they could possibly want, with the exception of weapons and armor, was somewhere in that room. It wasn’t just quantity that amazed them, but quality. Healing potions from as far away as Lorelei, bedrolls, tents, scroll cases, climbing gear, and some items none of them could identify. There were clothes in every size for every type of weather, many types of packs, including different types of saddlebags. There were long poles with hooks on the end, even some magical items, which were kept in a locked case, but Maynor opened it and took out a few.

“Okay, what do we need?” asked Maynor.

Ressssen looked around. “Speed is of the essence, so we should probably travel light.”

“We’ll have horses,” said Maynor. “You can all ride?”

They all turned to look at Merck. “I can ride! Well, I tried it once.”

“We’ll find a horse suitable for him,” Maynor assured them. “And we’ll take extra for the trip to carry supplies. So let’s take what we need. Better to be prepared, since we don’t know what we’ll be facing.”

“The only thing that concerns me,” said Ressssen, “is that we lost our archer. Striker was very good. She will not be easily replaced.”

“I’ll have my bow. And I’m pretty sure I can take on a Level 4 Hunter in an archery contest.”

“She was better than her level,” said Garne, with some certainty.

“Interesting. I wonder if there’s a way to hide a level, or perhaps even show a false class to detection.”

“Or she got her skills from something other than her class. It’s possible to simply be good at something,” said Borin.

They all looked at him.

“It’s true. There are people who can emulate certain abilities just by having a natural aptitude. I read it in a book. You’d be surprised at what some people can do without even having a class.”

They all stared. The general assumption was that skill came from classes, but they all knew it wasn’t completely true. Still, a high level person with a class was always going to be better than a skilled amateur, if for no other reason than they had a god on their side.

“You know,” said Dreek, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a book.”

“You haven’t,” said Borin.

“Then how have you read so many books?”

“Before I met you, I spent time in a mage’s library. He taught me to read. I stayed with him for years, and let him study me. As a reward for my cooperation, he allowed me to read any non-magical books I wanted.”

“And you remember them all?” asked Garne.

“I do. That’s because I don’t have a brain.”

Maynor was going to interrupt but he couldn’t let that go. “What do you mean you don’t have a brain?”

“Plants don’t have brains,” replied Borin. “Salads store things magically. That’s how the mage explained it. The magic in us can hold quite a lot of information, so I read everything I could.”

“How many books have you read?” asked Ressssen.

“Hundreds. Jalag said I was very curious.”

“Jalag was the mage? THE Jalag?” said Garne, loudly.

“No, just Jalag. I don’t think he had a first name.”

“The is not a...oh never mind,” said Garne, grumpily.

“Let’s not get distracted,” said Maynor. “We have a lot of ground to cover.”

“Are those spell scrolls?” asked Ressssen, looking into the open cabinet.

“They are.”

“Single use or study aids.”

“Study aids. We keep single use in the armory.”

“I could use another offensive spell. I don’t have a lot of combat magic.”

“See if there’s something you can use.”

“Really?”

“The king said spare no expense. If its helpful, you might as well.”

“Are you sure he meant…”

“He meant bring back his sons. I don’t think he cares what you use to get that done.”

Ressssen started looking through the scroll cases, each of which was marked in Aldevarian with the name of the spell. She finally pulled one out.

“It will take me a while to learn it.”

“It may take us a while to find them. What spell did you choose?”

“Ice Storm.”

“Interesting choice. Why that one?”

“Big area of effect, does damage and slows enemies. And it’s within the range of something I can learn relatively quickly. I have little experience with fire magic, but I know some ice spells already.”

“Isn’t it odd for a serpent lord to know ice spells?”

“Not really, no. My people are very versatile. It’s just that the mages that tend to get famous are the ones that use fire magic. It’s more flashy.”

There was some discussion on what to bring and what they didn’t need, but Maynor was only half paying attention. Every time he learned something new about this team, his list of questions grew. He knew they were as much a part of what was going on as Prince Eric and Prince Dahr, and that made him nervous. But Sheba herself had given her blessing to the Misfits, so he would trust them, and do what he could to aid them.

Whatever was going on, he was going to find out, if for no other reason than to redeem himself in the eyes of King Terrence.