370 days until the Arkon Shield falls

Chief Zel Foghorn,

The squad I sent to check on Captain Zumen has reported back. I regret to inform you that your son is dead, and a human faction has captured the Dead Hollow dungeon.

The rest of my news is no better, I fear. The humans have constructed a fort at the dungeon’s location and are in the process of claiming the area around it. If we are going to avenge your son, we must act soon.

Sir, what are your orders?

—Captain Grul Firespawn.

I did not exit the temple immediately. Wyrm Isle was as good a place as any to do what I needed to do next and likely safer than much of Sanctuary at the moment.

Ash had gained only one Technique through her transformation, but crucially, the number of etched spellforms she could hold had increased. Unfortunately, the size of her crystal only allowed me to teach her rank one spells which meant that Ash wouldn’t have any ranged attacks just yet. But while I rued that lack, there were two common castings that were sure to come in handy.

Before I started etching spiritforms, I checked the messaging system first. There were no messages from Eric, though. About to close the book in disappointment, I paused, struck by another thought.

Why not update the commander?

The message books were the perfect means to let her know what was happening. Gathering my thoughts, I wrote up a detailed report, telling Jolin everything that had occurred at Sanctuary as well as what we planned. After that, I penned missives to everyone I knew in Sierra, urging them to get the old lady to check her messages.

Then I sat down and got enchanting.

✽✽✽

Two hours later, I was done. Stepping out of the temple, I perused the waiting Trials messages.

You have exited Wyrm Isle.

Your skills in air, dragon, death, earth, life, water, sorcery, anatomy, light armor, staffs, and lore have advanced to level 72.

Your spellpower and channeling have increased to level 72.

Your familiar has learned the spells: living torch and sanctum of fire. Etched spells: 3 of 4.

I smiled in weary satisfaction. Both Ash and I were now as prepared as we could be for what the day brought. I glanced upwards at the still-dark sky. By my estimation, there was more than an hour remaining until dawn.

Our plan called for Tara to enter the orc camp at first light, and I had some time to spare. I stifled a yawn. Perhaps, I should try to get some rest while I wait. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since—

Frowning, I broke off as I noticed an armored figure hurrying towards me. Finally, taking the time to scan my surroundings, I saw that no one else was nearby.

My frown deepened. There should have been rebel guards posted around the temple. Where were they? My gaze darted back to the approaching figure. It was John.

Drawing to a halt at the base of the temple steps, he threw his arms onto his knees and gasped for air. “Jamie, come quickly!” he managed to get out.

“What’s going on?” I asked, hurrying towards him.

“Tara,” he wheezed. “She is about to leave.”

I blinked. “But it’s too early,” I protested.

“The plan’s changed,” John said, straightening as he recovered. “We gained control of the village earlier than expected. Both Tara and the rebel commanders thought it might be wiser to lure Jhaven while it was still dark, allowing Petrov and the others to maneuver closer under the cover of darkness. Giselle, Bunny, and Lance have already left to join Petrov.” He tugged at my arm as I reached the bottom. “Come on, we have to hurry!”

I let him pull me along. “But why isn’t Tara waiting for me to return?” I asked as I scrambled to keep up.

John stopped short and met my gaze. “She didn’t think we’d need you for this part of the plan.” He paused. “And besides, I got the impression she thought it best you not be there when she set out.”

I ground my teeth in frustration. “Fool woman,” I muttered. How was I going to keep her safe if she ran off on her own?

Diplomatically, John did not say anything.

“Where is she now?” I asked abruptly.

“At the east gate with Thursten,” he replied.

Closing my eyes, I took a second to reach out to the undead broodworm. It was still where I’d left it concealed outside the western wall of the village. “Come,” I called to the creature, ordering it into the settlement.

My eyes snapped open. “I’ve recalled the broodworm,” I said tersely to John. “Go to the west gate and escort it in.” Turning eastwards, I summoned mana. “Make sure the rebels don’t attack it.”

John frowned at me. “Okay, but don’t you want me to carry a message to Tara first? I can ask her to wait—”

I smiled tightly at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll get there faster than you can.” Releasing the magic within me, I dragon leaped forward, hoping I wasn’t too late.

✽✽✽

Leapfrogging through the village in thirty-foot bounds, I made my way eastwards. It was still too early for anyone to be up and about, and I was sure Thursten and Arneson must have instructed the freed slaves to stay indoors. I could see clearly with night vision, but to any villager peeping out his window, I would appear to be only a passing shadow.

As I drew closer to the east gate, I noticed armed fighters milling about one house in particular, and I made straight for it, landing with a thump in front of the open door. The two guards started in surprise and began readying their weapons before they identified me. “It’s Mage Jamie!” one exclaimed.

I nodded to the pair, recognizing them as scouts from Sierra. “Is Captain Tara still here?”

The second soldier bobbed his head. “She is inside with the rebels.”

I did my best to hide my relief. “Take me to her.”

The inside of the house—a small two-bedroom family home—was packed. Rebels were everywhere. Amongst the crowd, I spotted Arneson. As I drew closer, I realized Tara and Thursten were with him.

“Jamie!” a voice cried out.

Looking left, I spotted William. The boy and Kara were here too. I waved to the pair but didn’t slow down. William looked better than the last time I saw him, and I was glad for the boy. I drew to a stop before Thursten and Arneson.

“You made it,” Thursten said with a grin.

“I came as fast as I could,” I said.

Tara was turned away from me but stiffened as she heard my voice. She swung around. If I hadn’t known her so well, I wouldn’t have recognized her.

She was dressed in studded leather armor of the type I’d seen some of the gang wear. Her hair had been hacked off short, and tattoos covered her face.

I blinked in surprise. “That’s your disguise?”

She nodded, raising a tentative hand to touch her face. “Arenson and Thursten tell me the tattoos are favored by the gang.” She still hadn’t commented on my earlier behavior, but I knew she had marked it.

I shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry about before... I shouldn’t have reacted that way.”

“Forget it,” Tara said, the stiffness easing out of her. “We’re all on edge right now, but I’m glad you made it.” She paused. “What kept you?”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I lifted the elemental in my hand. “She did. Ash required some modifications.”

Thursten looked at me strangely. “Modifications?” he queried at the same time as Arenson asked, “What is that?”

I smiled. “My familiar.” I held out the elemental to Tara. “Here. Take her.”

Tara looked at me in surprise. “Why?”

“In case things get hairy, Ash will help you escape.”

Tara shook her head. “I shouldn’t take her, it’s dangerous. What if the shaman senses her presence?”

“He won’t. If you keep the familiar close to your body, her spirit will be indistinguishable from yours, even if he studies you with magesight.”

“And if they search me?”

“Put her in the toe of your boot,” I said in exasperation.

Tara still didn’t look convinced.

“I’m not letting you go any other way.”

Tara looked at me wryly. “Back to that again?”

I scowled at her and opened my mouth, ready with more arguments, but before I could get the words out, Tara reached out and took Ash in her palm. “All right, Jamie,” she said. “You’ve got that look in your eye again. No need to get mulish.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Mulish?”

She only laughed and turned away. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

✽✽✽

Stretched out flat on the roof of a house overlooking the orc camp, Thursten and I watched Tara’s solitary form slip over the wall. Arenson and the other rebels had returned to the underground hideout, while John and the Sierra soldiers concealed themselves in the village’s southwest quarter.

Feigning drunkenness, Tara cut a ragged path towards the orc camp.

“That girl would make an excellent actor,” Thursten whispered, watching Tara’s antics across the rock-strewn ground.

I nodded. We’d liberally drenched Tara’s clothes with alcohol and even made her drink some before leaving. Anything that lowered the orcs’ suspicion gave her a better chance of returning alive. And of course, I hadn’t cast gift of sight on her either. It all lent her jaunt through the night an air of authenticity.

Letting my gaze drift from Tara to the orc camp, I studied its fortified walls. In design, the log palisade was similar to Sierra’s walls, only lower. From this distance, I couldn’t see into the camp. I hadn’t dared let Ash fly over earlier but, from what the rebels had said, I knew it was lined with tents arranged in military-precise rows. Jhaven’s own was reported to be in the very center.

“Any news from your familiar yet?” Thursten asked.

“It doesn’t work that way,” I murmured. “I can see and hear through her, but she can’t talk to me.” Of course, there was nothing for me to see through Ash at the moment. In a move that had amused her—and only annoyed me—Tara had hidden the elemental crystal in the toe of her boot just as I’d suggested.

“She’s reached the gate,” Thursten said, drawing my attention back to Tara.

I watched as the captain raised her hand and beat a fist against the gate. At this distance, I couldn’t hear what she said, but in response to the racket she was making, I saw a head pop up over the wall to peer down at her.

It was an orc guard.

Reaching out to my familiar across our bond, I slipped my awareness into hers. The orc camp was within three hundred yards of the settlement, and after Ash’s transformation, her range had doubled, so I had no fear of my familiar venturing out of communication distance.

“... who’s that?” I heard a voice growl.

“A human,” another said. “One of Gorkin’s dogs.”

“What’s it want?” the unseen guard asked.

The one looking down grunted. “To see Jhaven.”

“Ha! No chance of that happening.”

“I have s-sh-sshomething he will want to sh-see,” Tara said, her words slurring.

The first guard laughed. “Uh-huh. Sure you do. He ain’t interested.”

“A sh-staff!” Tara exclaimed, raising my Focus. I’d given it to her to help convince Jhaven. If the shaman’s lore was high enough to completely analyze the item, he would have incontrovertible proof from the Trials itself that it was mine. But even if he couldn’t, he would recognize the staff for what it was—a wizard’s Focus.

“A what?” the hidden orc asked, sounding confused. He joined his fellow in gazing down from atop the wall.

“A wizard’s staff!” Tara yelled, waving the object for the guards to see.

“What’s wrong with it?” the second orc asked.

“It’s drunk,” the first chuckled.

His companion snorted. “You understood what it said?”

“It’s claiming to hold a wizard staff.”

“A wizard staff!” the second guard scoffed. “You sure? That just looks like an ordinary stick.”

She’s losing them, I thought. Coming to the same conclusion, Tara shouted, “It belongs to Jamie Sinclair!”

“What was that it said?” the second orc asked. Even from this distance, I saw his head whip down sharply.

“Who cares?” the first declared. “It’s nonsense anyway.”

“No,” his companion replied. “I recognize that name. Go get the shaman.”

I exhaled in relief. My name had been on a few of the letters we’d found amongst Gorkin’s things, and we had assumed that some of the orcs would recognize my name. Up until this point, though, it had only been conjecture on our part.

“But—”

“Go!” the second guard ordered, all joviality stripped from his voice.

The first orc’s head disappeared.

The remaining guard peered over the wall. “You better hope Jhaven believes you, little human,” he whispered, “or you won’t live long to regret it.”

✽✽✽

I filled Thursten in on the conversation I’d overheard, and the two of us waited in nervous anticipation for the guard’s return.

“What’s taking so long?” Thursten hissed.

“It’s only been five minutes,” I reminded him while struggling to keep my own apprehension in check.

Once Tara entered the orc camp, it was all up to her. If she failed to carry off the deception, then even with Ash’s help—no matter how much I told myself otherwise—she would not escape.

It’s been too long. Jhaven must be suspicious. We should recall her—

“Look,” Thursten whispered. “Something’s happening!”

My gaze flickered back to the camp. It was true. The gate was sliding open, revealing an orc who waved Tara inside.

“Here we go,” I heard her mutter.

The gate closed behind the pair, and I lost sight of her. “Here we go,” I whispered, echoing Tara’s sentiment. Closing my eyes, I shared Ash’s senses again.

For a drawn-out minute, I heard nothing but the sound of the orc’s heavy footsteps and, almost hidden beneath it, Tara’s lighter ones. The quiet did nothing to calm me, and my heart beat faster.

“Where are we going?” Tara demanded in a surly tone.

The thud of the guard’s steps halted. “You wanted to see the shaman, didn’t you?” he growled.

“Yeah, but I thought his tent was back that way?”

“He is not there,” the orc replied. “Now shut up and follow.” The two resumed walking.

“Jhaven is not in his tent,” I whispered for Thursten’s benefit, my concern increasing. It didn’t actually matter where in the orc camp Tara met the shaman, but the deviation from our expectations bothered me.

Shortly, I heard the guard speak again. “Get in,” he ordered.

“You’re not coming?” Tara asked.

“No,” the orc snapped. “Now, don’t keep the shaman waiting.”

I heard the rustle of cloth—a tent flap opening—and then a second orc demanded, “Who are you, human?” This one’s voice sounded well-worn and hoarse.

“Tara, sir!” she replied, her voice slurring only slightly now.

“I already know your name, fool!” the orc snapped. He must have analyzed her. “Tell me where you are from? Who is your leader?”

My heart thumped louder. Did the orc suspect Tara to be an imposter?

Tara maintained her calm admirably. “Ahh... didn’t the guard tell you? I’m one of Gorkin’s, sir!”

A momentary silence.

Then another voice spoke. “I know all of Gorkin’s lieutenants and, you girl, are not one of them.” The second speaker’s voice was cultured, not at all like any orc I’d met. This, I knew, was Jhaven.

“Me, a lieutenant?” Tara spat noisily on the floor. “Not on your life, sir. I’m just a lowly grunt.”

Another silence.

“If you are, as you say, only a ‘grunt,’” Jhaven said, his voice silky with danger, “why did Gorkin entrust such tidings to the likes of you?”

“Uh... Uhm, the thing is... uhh...”

“Spit it out, girl!” the first orc snapped.

“They were afraid, sir,” Tara whispered.

“Afraid?” Jhaven asked.

“Afraid of disturbing your sleep, sir!”

Jhaven snorted. “And you weren’t?”

“No, sir! I’m afraid of no one,” Tara boasted.

A smile slipped onto my face and the last of my apprehension faded. Thursten was right. Tara was an impressive actor, and so far, she was doing a fine job of allaying the orcs’ suspicions.

“Stupid human,” the unknown orc muttered.

Jhaven, though, only chuckled in amusement. “Leave the girl alone, Fagan. Such... fearlessness is refreshing.” He paused. “Misplaced as it may be.” The humor faded from his voice. “Now tell me where you got this from?”

“Sir?” Tara asked, sounding puzzled. “That’s the mage’s staff. We took it from him when he collapsed.”

“Collapsed?” Jhaven asked.

“That’s right, sir,” Tara answered. “Our guards found him outside the west gate. He was blood-spattered and senseless from pain, and we rushed him into the village. Gorkin recognized him and said you would want to be informed immediately, sir. So he sent me.”

“Describe this mage,” Fagan demanded, the eagerness in his voice undisguised.

“Uhm. He had no hair,” Tara said. “And uh, brown eyes.” She paused. “Oh, and he limped.”

“That’s him!” Fagan exclaimed, ecstatic. “We must inform Orgtul at once!”

“Not so fast, captain,” Jhaven replied. “Gorkin knows what value we place on this mage. Tell me, human, why did he send you here instead of delivering our quarry directly?”

“That’s the thing, sir,” Tara replied. “The mage was half-dead when we found him. Gorkin thought he was too far gone to move again. He’ll die, sir,” she added with convincing sincerity, “unless you come and heal him.”

A strained silence followed this pronouncement.

“You shouldn’t go,” Fagan said at last. “It can’t be helped if the mage dies. Order Gorkin to bring him to the camp.”

Jhaven sighed. “I have to go.”

“But Jhaven,” the captain protested. “Think of the—”

“I know the risks, Fagan,” the shaman said harshly. “Command is already not best pleased with us,” he muttered. “Angering Orgtul is the last thing we need now. Do you want to explain to the high shaman why we let the human die?” He paused. “Besides, Gorkin would never dare betray us.”

Fagan had no response to that. “Very well,” he said, exhaling heavily. “I will assemble a squad to escort you.”

“No,” Jhaven objected. “I will go alone.”

I cursed. I’d really been hoping the shaman would bring a sizable contingent with him into the village. Every orc less that we had to deal with later would make our task that much easier.

“But—” Fagan began.

“Enough, captain!” Jhaven snapped. “I have decided.” A pause and I sensed him turn his gaze onto Tara again. “Lead the way, human. Take me to your prisoner.”