Monsters Mayhem & Misfits Omnibus: Books 1-3

Jack Spry

Marcus Sloss

Copyright © 2025 by Royal Guard Publishing LLC

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Contents

Monsters Mayhem & Misfits

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Monsters Mayhem & Misfits 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Monsters Mayhem & Misfits 3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Afterword

Monsters Mayhem & Misfits

A LitRPG Fantasy

Chapter One

JOSH DIDN’T UNDERSTAND what he saw on the feed. Well, he understood it fine, but it didn’t add up. The feed’s grainy resolution didn’t lie, nor did the excited blips of his salvage scanners. At this point, butterflies would usually lighten his gut—that sick elation that preceded a good find. One decent haul, and they’d get planet time.

Nice! Maybe I can get planet-side for some R&R!

Not that he needed rest and relaxation. Cruising plasma channels in space looking for dead ships wasn’t exactly taxing. Maybe I need a break from the boredom? Perhaps that’s it. Maybe he would bugger off and just stay on a planet. This wasn’t the life for him. He knew that deep down. But he’d signed up for the loop and was a man of his word.

“Ermm, Midge, you’d better grab a look at this.”

Midge was a typical barge captain—lazy, decent in small doses and leading by intimidation. He sighed, burped, and rolled his eyes. “What, Underwood?”

“It’s the Herald—”

“Herald?”

“Herald of the Dawn,” Josh sat back from the monitor, his sickness rising. “It’s coming straight for us.”

“What do those grunts want with us? Shouldn’t they be at the front fighting?” Midge spat on the floor. “Could have been military, me. Could have been.” He rounded on Josh. “Had the stones—the skills. Just didn’t fancy it.”

Midge was also full of shit. He’d have never made the grade. Only the best of the best joined up. Fighting the Grillons wasn’t for the faint-hearted. They had tech—way more advanced than anything humans had. Josh had heard it was all packed into a ring that turned them into fighting machines. That’s what he’d heard, but only the military knew.

“I doubt they want anything,” Josh said, leaning closer. “It’s in half. The fucking ship’s in half.”

“What?” Midge got up and strolled over. He leaned in, peering at the monitor. “Fuck that’s fucked,” he said eloquently.

“Hell yeah!” said Dexy Dane. “That’s a one-way ticket to life on the ground. That’s riches, baby.” She pushed both of them out of the way and stared at the monitor.

“You can’t scrap military hardware to anyone but the military,” Josh pointed out.

“Who pay shit,” Dexy added.

“No,” said Midge, “that’s not true, Josh. It is illegal to scrap it on any human scrapyards, but as we all know—the Elven Feds don’t see what they don’t have to.”

“Scanning for life signs,” Josh said,

“Don’t! Just don’t!” Dexy said. She twisted her body, shoving her cleavage in his face.

Josh turned away. There was nothing she had that he wanted. Not after Midge had crawled all over her for most of their mission. He gritted his teeth. “I’m scanning. Those men and women fought and died for us.”

“Oh please,” Dexy said, pinching his cheek. “How pathetically patriotic.”

Josh shoved her off. “Get the fuck—” He stopped. “There’s a blip. Someone’s alive. It’s weak, but it’s there.”

“Hardly living,” said Dexy. “I say a false positive.”

“Yes, it could be one of them. It’s already been logged, so we have to check it out to be sure,” Midge agreed.

“Look, we just going to do what we would normally,” Josh said. “There’s no harm in grappling it then seeing if someone’s alive. We can continue with salvaging it either way.”

“There is, and you know it. If one soldier’s alive, then the whole thing belongs to the military,” Midge said. “It ain’t salvage. It’s a rescue mission.”

“The elves will quite happily deal with that!” Dexy moved around Josh. “This is a fortune we’re looking at.”

Josh shot up, standing with his back to the monitor. “If it is a life then, we get them off there. They deserve that much. Have you stopped to wonder what an alien ship that can tear our strongest military vessel in half could do to us? If you’re planning on going to the elves, it won’t matter where the salvage came from, and we can drop the survivor off there.”

Midge shoved him. “Hence why this needs to be a quick job. Even if there’s a life, we’ll salvage what we can and sell it to the elves. Have you stopped to think how far away from the front we can be with that kind of money? We’re losing this war. The Grillons are coming, whether you like it or not. I want to go far enough away that I can live without worrying.”

“What’s wrong with you, Josh? We’re scrappers, not fucking priests. You don’t fit here. You keep losing sight of the salvage mission.”

“Yeah, you play the hero and see if the life is there,” Midge said. “We’ll prep to salvage and start, regardless of if there’s a survivor. Right, Underwood?”

“Why was this even a conversation? Fuck you! Don’t think I’m not outta here the minute my contract’s up. Fuck this!” Josh scowled at them. “You do your job, and I’ll do mine, just like I have been.”

Midge nodded. “Exactly. Focus on the job and getting the salvage.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “After you check on the false positive life sign.”

“If he wants to rescue the sailor, let him,” Dexy said with a sudden change of tone. “We can prep the cargo bay, eh, Midge?”

Midge glanced at her, then feigned a sigh that masked his smile. “Yeah, get the grabs in position. He can go in once we’ve hooked it.”

Josh looked at both of them. They were two peas in a pod, and it just underscored how much they didn’t see eye to eye.

Even in half, The Herald of Dawn was gigantic compared to their ship, Lincanto. Josh walked the boom, his visor misting slightly and heart thumping. He needed to get to the life sign as soon as he could. He’d grabbed a first aid pack, but depending on the situation, he might have to get the person back to the ship to help them.

As he looked into the Herald, he knew the salvage would be too much for their ship, even taking the best pieces. Based on some lighting, it looked like the Herald’s life support might be on its last legs, but was still working. He couldn’t believe that they’d think about leaving someone to die and focus on just the salvage.

But he wasn’t about to let a grunt die to make a couple of spacegrazers rich. He didn’t fit in, anyway. Survivor or no survivor, they’d fill the cargo bay, find somewhere to sell it, and purge the logs. He definitely was going to find something else when his contract was up.

Something will come up, he thought, as he reached the ship’s wreckage. He attached his harness, sprung off the boom, and floated toward a maintenance hatch. Once through its airlock, he entered the ship’s blinking half-light.

“Fuck,” he said, his voice strange inside his helmet.

“What is it?” Dexy’s question sounded metallic. Her concern was a mix of faking concern and morbid fascination. “Are you seeing something we’re not?”

“Looks like there was a fight inside the ship,” Josh said, his gut convulsing with fear.

“That means—” Midge paused. “Shit, Josh.”

I know what it fucking means…

“They reckon those aliens can’t die—not while they’re wearing those damn rings,” Dex said, saying what everyone else didn’t want to.

“It’s one level up from you. Pretty close. Ain’t moving, Josh. Might be trapped or something.” Midge confirmed what Josh thought. It was a subtle switch, but they all assumed the surviving lifeform was a Grillon. They’d discounted any chance of a human survivor.

“Aren’t you going to check it out?” Dex said.

“What?” Josh asked.

“Yeah, go on. Play the fucking hero,” Midge said.

“Just get up there, Josh. Play the hero like Midge said.” There was an edge to her voice. She was enjoying it.

Does she want to see me die if there’s an alien? Doesn’t matter. I need to know if it’s one of ours.

“I’m going up,” Josh said.

A corridor spread away from him; bodies littered everywhere. The gravity pumps were still functioning, and his air analysis came back okay, so it appeared the bulkheads had done their job when the ship had suffered catastrophic damage. He unfastened his helmet’s visor, lifted it, and took a breath. He crouched by the closest corpse.

A dark line stretched from her forehead to her liver, like a sword had sliced her in two, opened her up, and heat-sealed the wound. He moved to the next. This one had similar damage across the guts.

“At least I know how I’m going to die if there’s an alien up there,” he muttered as creaks and groans radiated through the ship.

Josh stood. Serenity settled on him and empowered him with the courage to possibly face an alien. It was a strange feeling, but one he accepted. He acknowledged this moment seemed pivotal in his life. He’d put his life on the line in hopes of saving another human. In a way, he’d come to the end of a journey. His current job and role weren’t going to fit anymore, and he wasn’t just going to go with the flow of whatever life threw at him. But another feeling grew equally quickly. It was confidence—a sense that he would survive and start his life over.

Buoyed by that hope, he hurried along the corridor, swerving the bodies. There was a curious absence of blood, the alien’s weapon sealing all the damage as it carved up the humans. Josh’s analytical mind marveled at the efficiency. If they wanted the vessel, there was less chance of infection—less to clean up. Which begged the question: Had the crew scuttled the ship? He came to a stairwell and climbed to the next level, recognizing its function instantly. It was a cargo hold—a vast internal hangar—or it had been once.

Massive girders lay at obtuse angles, crushing fighters, support ships, and drones. Black stripes scarred the walls—erratic laser fire, the sign of a desperate defense. Dozens of human corpses littered the destruction, but he could see no sign of alien combatants. He couldn’t believe that one alien had done all this. He couldn’t comprehend it. Such power couldn’t exist. He searched through the chaos, seeking the one thing that still lived—possibly the one thing that had caused the chaos.

“Who’s there?” a male voice rang out.

Josh’s hope surged. “Are you human?” he asked, immediately realizing it was a daft question. “Yeah, don’t answer that.”

“What?” the man said. “Get over here. Get over here quick.”

Josh picked his way through the debris, coming to a soldier, the man’s arms outstretched, his face twisted with pain, and his lower half gone. Guts trailed from where his waist should have been, the floor covered with pints of blood. “How the hell are you alive?” Josh asked.

“No time,” the man said. “They’re coming. They won’t let this fall into our hands.”

“What?”

“What the fuck do you think’s been keeping me alive?” He held up his hand and then nodded to one side. “Girder fell on it. Fell on me, too. A tension bar shot through its temple as it tried to get out.” He crunched his face up, the pain too much. “Crushed it n’ fucked it up. Tech doesn’t win against a hundred-ton girder and a steel spike.” He grunted a laugh, blood dripping from his chin.

“What do you mean, they’re coming?”

“They’ll want to retrieve the ring. It told me they’re coming. Told me to escape. But it can’t heal me. I’m too far gone.”

“What? You’re not making any sense.”

“You’ll get it, son,” he said.

It was then that Josh realized how old the man was—powerful, but old. Even in half, he looked fearsome.

“What do I need to do?” Josh’s heart thumped. He pushed his fear away, wanting to help—wanting to make the man’s sacrifice mean something.

“Gonna give you this ring.” He flashed his hand in front of Josh. “It’s his ring. Put it on. It’ll help you. Take the escape pod and jettison as fast as you can. You got that?”

Josh’s gaze left the ring, following the man’s eyes to the alien’s corpse. It was strangely humanoid in shape, different, though—different enough to be scary as hell, even in death.

The man’s face paled. His mouth dropped open. “They’ve located the ship.”

“How the fuck do you know?”

“The ring knows everything. It has a plan. You need to get to the pod. It’ll take you there. You need to run. Got it?”

Josh hesitated.

“You got it? Because I'm dead as soon as I give it to you, understand?”

“No—”

“It’s keeping me alive! Take it. Get out of here. If you can get it back to command, then do it. But they’ll follow you, so I’m not sure that’s best. Get the hell away—just get away.” He grimaced, more blood spilling from his mouth and streaming from his nose.

“I’ll do it, sir. I’ll do my best.”

“Good luck, son,” he muttered, holding the ring out.

The soldier finally closed his eyes, head slumping to one side. The ring rolled toward Josh.

“Thank you for your service,” he said, slipping the ring on. A wave of fear washed over him, and he knew he needed to escape.

“Okay, Lincato. No living alien, ready to come aboard.”

He stood and started running toward the airlock and the escape pods.

“Midge, Dexy, I’m heading back. No living alien. I repeat, no living alien.”

A shudder ripped through the ship, followed by a bang, then a scrape.

“Midge! Dexy! Are you fucking kidding me?” The grind sent shivers through him as he ran to the stairs. “Midge! Dexy! Don’t you dare fucking leave me!” He clipped his visor back, pressurizing his suit. “Don’t you fucking leave!”

There was only one reason they’d leave their payday behind.

The Grillons had come, and he had to make it to an escape pod!

Chapter Two

Assessing new host

IF JOSH REFLECTED on when his new life began, it always came back to those three words.

The moment he slipped the alien tech on his finger was also a great contender. Escaping the Herald of Dawn before it exploded might have qualified. But those events and the others that occurred on that fateful day were mere window dressing. They had a reasonable effect on his future but weren't pivotal in changing his life.

Assessing new host

It was when those three words sounded inside his mind.

What made them even more impressive was that Josh would not hear another word for one-hundred-and-eighty-six years. Not a single damn one. One-hundred-and-eight-six wasn't an arbitrary number. It was the number of years the battery pack of a GLC dreadnought class escape pod lasted. Nor was that a random duration. That was how long an escape pod needed to travel to a manned beacon, no matter where it was in the known universe.

The theory behind that was simple. If it all went to shit, the military would get you home. It instilled some sense of caring.

No one could survive the journey’s possible length, but fortunately, that was where deep space immersion came in—DSI for short. However, those little safeguards meant nothing if your pod entered a temporal wormhole that exited into an entirely new universe.

That negated every contingency.

Josh woke with a long, monotone sound piercing his ears. Even though he was a little groggy from the immersion, he understood the tone’s message. The battery was about to die. If it failed while he was still in the pod, then he died.

He checked his status. He'd landed—that was one thing. Something must have caused the AI to land on a planet rather than journeying to a space station. If the battery is about to die, it took a hell of a long time to find a planet to land on.

The atmosphere outside the pod suited a human being, which was a huge bonus. Plus, there was the small matter that he was alive. In his opinion, that was the best news anyone who'd spent one-hundred-and-eight-six years in a pod could hope for.

“Tracking. Location, please,” he asked, hoping it was the correct prompt.

His voice was a little throaty, but that was understandable.

“Location unavailable,” the pod's AI replied.

“Stardate?”

“Without a location—”

“Yeah, yeah, you can't hypothesize. Space and time are linked and all that shit. What do we know?”

“No transmissions detected or recognized star systems found during the entire journey. A suitable planet was found for survival, and the pod successfully landed. It is warm outside, and the sun is shining, although it’s cloudy.”

He closed his eyes. That was all he needed—a flippant AI.

“Disconnect life support and open her up.”

“Executing.”

A poor choice of words, he thought, turning off the AI, never to hear from it again.

The pod opened, and light streamed in. Josh squeezed his eyes shut, the brightness too much for him after so long in the dark. Shadows danced over his eyelids. A cool breeze brushed his skin—crackling and rustling filling his ears, letting him know he wasn't alone.

Rolling out of the pod, he kneeled, looking down, opening his eyes while shading them to see a bunch of scattered brown leaves. He focused and lifted his head: undergrowth, trees, a gray sky.

“Okay, I'm in a forest.”

A bird cawed. Something scampered away. He stood, his legs shaking, and steadied himself on the pod. Then he lifted his hand and inspected the ring on his index finger. It was black with raised edges and a deep blue band running around it.

He exhaled. “Are you worth all the hype?” he asked. The soldier had said the ring talked to him…

A growl broke his train of thought. He spun around. A wolf pawed at the earth, readying to spring, but unsure. It was wary of him. He backed against the capsule and reached behind, hoping for a weapon or anything he could use as one. But the vessel was an escape pod. The military had designed it to get to a beacon and nothing more. He edged around it, putting the pod between them.

The wolf sprang forward, jumping the pod and smashing into him. Josh’s instincts kicked in. His fear turned to anger as he fell backward. He grabbed the beast's throat as he thumped to the floor, keeping its maw away from his face. His arms were weak, unused for an age, and his elbows immediately began to buckle.

“Get the fuck off me!” he growled as the beast's slathering jaws tried to close on his neck.

He gritted his teeth, forcing his arms to straighten, but the beast was too strong. It sensed its victory, growls intensifying, saliva dripping. He closed his eyes and focused, then punched the wolf’s throat. It gagged, and he used the distraction to pull the beast to him, sliding across and rolling it.

It recovered and snapped, its jaws closing where his throat should have been. He pulled the wolf under him, pinning it as its paws clawed and raked him. Holding it down with one hand, he punched it repeatedly—the ring biting into his soft skin.

The wolf wriggled and bucked, trying to unseat him, but something told Josh he had one chance to win. If the wolf got the better of him, he couldn’t mount another attack—he didn’t have the strength. So he kept punching it over and over, his hand a bloody mess, until the wolf stopped struggling. Even then, he continued until he was sure the beast was dead.

He rolled off, laying by its side, breathing so heavily he thought he might rupture his lungs.

“Lovely welcome,” he said.

Luminous green text scrolled across his mind's eye while a monotone female voice sounded inside him.

Basic attributes deemed inadequate

Working on solutions to enhance existing attributes

Strength - poor

Speed and agility - adequate

Durability - poor

Combat instinct - adequate

Establishing baseline

Strength = 0

Speed and Agility = 2

Durability = 0

Combat Instinct = 4

Assessing requirements to protect the host

Upgrading Strength

Strength +1

Upgrading durability

Durability +2

New Score =

Strength = 1

Speed and Agility = 2

Durability = 2

Combat Instinct = 4

Average = 2.25

Assigning Rank

Rank Assigned = Novice Enforcer

Assigning Tier

Tier Assigned = Bronze Initiate

Title = Bronze Initiate of the Novice Enforcer

Applying changes.

Sharp pain erupted from the ring and radiated up his hand to his arm before ripping through his entire body. Every muscle flexed; every ligament stretched. He jerked and spasmed, his body convulsing. The sensation ended as quickly as it began, and warmth rippled through him, every part of him relaxing until one massive pulse shook him. A tingling feeling itched the skin on his right hand—the one with the ring. His fingers straightened, a weird feeling emanating from his bones like they had become denser and his skin tougher.

“What the actual fuck?” he said, holding his hand up, seeing his once shredded knuckles fully repaired. But the ring also caught his attention. The blue band glowed. It spread light under his skin, making his veins luminous until they faded as his blood traveled away.

He crawled away from the dead wolf, propping himself on the pod as he stared at the ring.

It was alien tech. He knew exactly what it was. He had no memory loss—no lack of cognitive function at all. He could remember the soldier’s eyes as the man had given Josh the ring. He could remember every word.

If you can get it back to command, then do it. But they’ll follow you, so I’m not sure that’s best. Get the hell away—just get away.

He’d done a damn fine job of that. He couldn’t have gotten further away if he’d tried. Although he’d only been a passenger, the escape pod had barely cleared the Herald of Dawn before the ship blew up and sent him hurtling deep into uncharted territory, straight toward a gaping wormhole. His immersion had chosen to kick in as he’d finally wondered what had happened to Dexy and Midge.

I hope they got you, too!

Wherever he was, all that happened a long, long time ago—too long ago. It was done and dusted, and it was time for him to move on.

Josh was aware of nanobot tech. He'd used it enough to fix the machines aboard the Lincato. Space trawlers—sluggers as they were mostly known—ran on fix-as-you-go technology, and neither Dexy nor Midge had any technical leanings. Fortunately, Josh had an inquiring mind and had enjoyed the challenge of keeping it running. The ring had to use something similar, and that something was in his veins. He flexed his hand. It felt stronger. He felt stronger.

“I wonder,” he said, crouching, facing the pod. He bunched his hand into a fist, drew it back, and punched the pod.

“Ow, shit!” he said, gasping as the pain hit him. But it didn't hurt as much as he thought it might. He hit it again, inspecting his bruised knuckles after. Grimacing, he punched it repeatedly, resting after each one until a notification flashed up in his mind's eye.

“Another point in durability,” he muttered and sat back against a tree, flexing his hand as the ring glowed and his skin tingled. Warmth filled his bones as they strengthened, and his skin repaired.

I wonder, he thought. Then asked, “Explain Novice Enforcer.”

Novice Enforcer—Tier 1

The host begins to understand the ring's potential at Novice Enforcer Tier One. They experience the initial enhancements and can display improved strength, speed, agility, durability, and combat instinct.

“Okay, so I'm a beginner. What's Bronze Initiate?”

Bronze Initiate

The host begins to grasp the ring's power, displaying improved attributes during combat. They overcome basic challenges and prove themselves in their first battles.

“What comes after Bronze Initiate?”

The stages of Novice Apprentice are:

Bronze Initiate

Iron Apprentice

Steel Adept

Silver Vanguard

Golden Defender

Each stage represents an advancement, and the host gains it by increasing their average attribute score.

“At what score do I become an Iron Apprentice?”

The host achieves Iron Apprentice once the average attribute score is above ten.

Josh sat back and assessed his situation, concluding he was in deep shit. He had no weapons. The forest was hostile. He'd have to move and find water soon. Technically, he had the wolf to eat, but no knife to cut the carcass or fire to cook the meat. He had nothing. All he had was the pod and a dead wolf.

But that wasn't all. He had the ring.

Baby steps, he thought.

He crouched by the pod and drew his fist back.

“Time to get tough.”

Chapter Three

CURIOSITY DROVE JOSH. He had to understand the ring and not in a hit-pod-increase-durability way. It had to be deeper than that if he was going to survive.

He'd spent another hour punching the thing and only increased his durability by two more. For the last thirty minutes, he hadn't achieved anything. Rather than be discouraged, however, he saw it as new data. Each time he struck the pod, he watched the dim blue light stream from his ring, briefly gathering around his knuckles before fading. Any pain he had then vanished.

The theory he arrived at was a simple one. His strength limited the force with which he struck the pod. Therefore, it also limited the damage he could do to his hand. The ring had upgraded his hand to negate the damage, so unless he increased his strike's power, he'd gain no more increases in durability. In short, his hand was powerful enough to keep hitting the pod forever at the strength he currently had.

Delving a little deeper, he understood the purpose of the nanobots. He'd decided to call them that, even though the alien tech might comprise something completely different. There had to be at least two types: diagnostic bots and repair bots. The ring also charged the repair bots with improving whatever it deemed lacking, but could only do so much at any given time. His body had to adapt, too. He couldn’t, for instance, upgrade and suddenly be able to tear trees from their roots because his back might give out or his legs might not take the weight. Everything had to improve in incremental jumps.

Even though it was just a theory, knowing he had a working hypothesis settled him. He also concluded that he'd improved his durability as much as possible and now had a solid punch. His left hand amused him from curiosity’s standpoint. If amuse meant mildly confused him but made him happy all the same.

Whatever had happened to his right hand was duplicated in the left. He likened it to having kevlar stitched into his skin and titanium reinforcing his bones. All he needed to do was up his arm strength, and he would pack one hell of a punch.

It confused him because the bots had no data to suggest that his left hand needed strengthening. He'd not thought about training it like he had his right, so the bots should have ignored it. But thinking further, he settled on a simple explanation.

Being right or left-handed—right or left-footed—was almost certainly a human thing, and the ring wasn't human tech. Therefore, he surmised, the bots would assume whatever one side of his body needed, so did the other. It was a solid theory, so he settled on it and thought no more about it until another thought struck him.

His left side was weaker, so if he worked on it, the need for improvement would be more significant. If that were the case, gaining these attribute points would also be more straightforward.

His stomach growling brought him out of his thoughts, focusing him on what his priorities should be. He was thirsty, hungry, and getting a little cranky. He had three choices. Downhill should always lead to water. Uphill would allow him to orientate himself but might not get him a drink. Climbing a tree might allow him a better view and point him in the right direction for water. He settled on that.

The tree closest to him was easy enough to climb, and he was soon high enough to get a reasonable understanding of his surroundings. The forest spread along a broad slope with its highest point a ridge that ran north to south if he'd subliminally tracked the sun right. For the sake of it, north to south would do. The ridge lay east of him, with lower ground to the west.

A small river blinked in and out of the treeline, indicating the bottom of a valley, and the land over it barely rose, blanketed in trees to the horizon, barring a few patches of green here and there and the odd cluster of hills. Over the river, following its course, uniform gaps in the trees indicated the possible presence of a road. Far away to the south hung a low cloud. As Josh narrowed his eyes, he thought it was likely smoke, indicating a settlement.

He climbed down, stopping before he jumped to the forest floor. His gut told him something was awry. Something was moving about inside the wolf’s carcass. The leaves beside it rustled, and a giant worm burst from the mulch, curling around, a fang-lined maw open and plunging into the body. It ripped the skin away like it was paper.

The worms were three feet long, each as thick as his arm. His first thought was to leave well alone, but his second changed his mind. If he could kill one and get a couple of those fangs, he could fashion a makeshift weapon. Until he had something better, he broke off a branch. He broke that piece again, so he had a makeshift baton.

He observed them for a while, concluding there were three in all and that they were working independently, each taking as much as they could regardless of the others. Therefore, he surmised they wouldn’t attack him together.

Waiting until they'd cleaned the inside of the carcass out, he jumped down, taking a swing at the first behind the head and clubbing it as hard as he could. The creature's head snapped back, and its body became limp. He glanced at his baton in awe. It was one mighty strike, and his coordination seemed to have improved as well. Ready to retreat, he stopped as the other two worms erupted simultaneously from the carcass, jumping straight at him.

The first bit into his calf, while the second flew at his throat. Josh dodged to the right, instinctively swinging at and hitting the worm headed for his throat. He connected poorly, deflecting the creature enough to send it flying into the undergrowth. The one that bit his calf was firmly attached to his leg. He kicked out, slamming into the escape pod, trying to squash the worm and keeping one eye out for the third worm’s return. The one attached to his leg went limp but stayed attached.

“Fuck this,” he growled, knowing the third worm would attack again.

With the other still attached, he backed away to get more distance between him and the third, so he could better focus on detaching the worm. He stumbled as his foot caught on a root, the worm tangling his legs as it clung on. He floundered, bouncing from trunk to trunk. When he got his bearings, he decided he should have time to deal with the worm.

“Let the fuck go!” he cried, grabbing hold of its tail. Did worms even have tails? They certainly shouldn’t have fangs!

He yanked on the worm, only to yell as a wave of pain raced up his leg. With a scream, he held the worm’s body out from his leg and clubbed it with his baton. His lungs heaving and his strength waning.

“Nearly two hundred years in immersion does nothing for your stamina,” he muttered, then looked at the worm that was still doggedly attached. “Time to get rid of you, you little bastard.”

He kneeled down and laid the wriggling worm out on the ground. As he held it in place, he beat seven shades of shit out of it. Once dead, he pried the creature's fangs from his leg, leaving a patch of red raw flesh on his calf. It had a chunk of muscle missing, the wound seeping blood.

“Do your thing,” he muttered to his ring, and the wound bloomed with blue light.

Josh fully expected a notification and the voice to sound in his head, telling him he was inadequate, but it didn’t come. Only the slight rustle of the leaves in the trees could be heard. Not hearing any movement from the direction of the third worm, he relaxed for a moment and caught his breath.

He decided water and food were a greater priority than killing the third worm. Picking up the worm's carcass, he closed his eyes. The slimy creature was food and was his only option currently with the wolf gone. But he couldn’t bring himself to chow down on the creature—not unless he could cook it. With a sigh, he stood and continued to the river, carrying the worm’s body in one hand and his baton in the other.

It didn’t take long to reach the river, where he paused until he judged it clear. He darted to a sheltered spot, resting against a jutting rock, as he watched for any movement before getting a drink.

Once he'd slaked his thirst, he sat back and stared at the worm. He could bite it and tear a chunk off with his teeth, but he wasn't quite that hungry yet. The escape pod had cycled nutrients through his system for the whole journey, so while he wasn't starving, the solution had maintained his system enough that he wasn’t about to keel over and die. It wasn't sufficient to fuel two fights, a climb up a tree, and a hike, and perhaps that was why his latest fight hadn’t gained him any stat increases.

He discounted the worm entirely. Even cooked, there had to be a better option. A bush across the river caught his attention. It was lush, green, and dotted with red berries—definitely a better option. He judged the river shallow enough to cross, but it was a little exposed. Rooting around the stones on the riverbank, he was excited to find a lump of flint bigger than his fist. He threw it against the boulder, splitting it in half. Luck was on his side. One half had a sharp, jagged edge.

“Perfect.”

With a weapon in each hand, he crept into the water and waded across. A bird burst from the undergrowth as he neared the far side, scaring the crap out of him. Upstream, something slipped into the water. He forced himself on, coming to the bank. Crawling up the bank until he had good footing, he crouched by the bush and stared at the water. Whatever had tried to sneak up on him must have thought better of it because nothing disturbed the quiet.

His stomach brought his focus back to the bush. The berries hung in sprigs of five or six and resembled red currants. Josh plucked one, wolfed it down, then waited. He gave it about five minutes, and when it hadn't caused him to vomit or double over in pain, he ate a couple more.

“Slow and steady,” he muttered and sat beside the bush, trying to make himself as small as possible. Given how quickly he’d been attacked and scavengers had shown up, this place was dangerous. His energy began to return, and with it came the notification he'd expected. He received a point in speed and agility and another in combat instinct, which was better than nothing.

He'd wanted a strength boost but had to admit he hadn't needed any more strength to kill the worms. Combat instinct made sense. He'd assessed the situation, decided the worms wouldn’t fight together, got that wrong, and blundered in. That sort of lax judgment would see him dead in days. It was clear to him that humans might be the apex predators in this land, but that got them zero respect. The speed and agility increase made sense, too. He had been too slow. There was no doubt about that. He’d been too slow all around.

What was encouraging was the ring decided he had enough durability to fight off a couple of worms. He was unsure if that was a good thing. One had ripped a chunk from his leg, after all, but it had healed quickly. While it was odd having a ring judge him, he had something mighty powerful on his side. He’d already improved himself greatly. Just how powerful can I get?

He munched on the berries for a while, thinking about his next course of action. Food was going to be critical to improving his stats.

He could walk to see if there was a road and hope someone stopped, gave him a lift to the town, and dropped him at the door of some benevolent tavern owner who would happily put him up for the night and take the time to explain all about the land while charging him nothing. But that wasn’t likely to happen.

Stashing more berries in his pocket, he headed through the forest until he reached what turned out to be a dirt road. It wasn't so much a road as a fairly wide path, clear of trees and stumps, with two furrows carved in it and a good smothering of dried shit in its center.

Given the state of the road, the surrounding area couldn't be too advanced. A lack of civilization meant non-existent charity and often the opposite—slavery. Josh decided he should remain as anonymous as possible while he gathered some intel. To do that, he had to stay out of sight and follow the road. Then, he had to get stronger while he observed any passers-by.

He had water and food; next up was shelter. He walked toward the town until he came to a small inlet. It was little more than a cut in the hillside, consisting of stacked slate sides with moss shelves. It was just big enough for him to lie down comfortably and had the advantage of being near the road.

“Perfect,” he muttered, tore down a few branches and arranged them for camouflage.

Once he finished, he stayed close to his hidey hole and thought about what he could do to get stronger. The ring would give him a significant advantage in this world, and he wasn't about to squander it, even if he was a stranger—even if he might be the only human on the planet.

The telltale grind of dry axles and protesting wheels rippled along the road broke him from his thoughts. It was about mid-afternoon, and he jumped into his little crevice, arranged his branches, and waited.

A horse and wagon passed, and upon its bench sat an old man and a young woman. Josh stared open-mouthed as they went by. The fact that they were humans flitted right through his brain because the woman was stunning, easily one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. Her long red hair tumbled over her bare shoulders, around her ample breasts. They strained to break free from her loosely laced white cotton top, which displayed her mouth-watering cleavage. Her skin was flawless, her cheekbones pronounced, and her lips were full and lush, set in a pout that Josh found irresistible.

“Wow,” he muttered, transfixed, his whole focus on her mouth.

After decades of space sluggers, this woman was wholesome, earthy, and just plain old sexy. She turned and started talking to the older man next to her, but Josh didn’t recognize anything she said, although its cadence seemed somewhat normal.

Analyzing language. Continue listening for more data.

He chuckled as he thought, That’s one request I can easily follow. I’m definitely following her.

Chapter Four

DARTING from one trunk to the next, he followed the wagon, always staying within earshot, so their conversation could be analyzed by the alien artifact. His heart pounded; mouth dry as he tried to keep his distance without making noise. The girl had a strange effect on him. One glance at her and he’d thrown his hastily put-together survival plan out of the window, knowing that he needed to follow her.

The rest of the afternoon passed as he followed and listened until the sun started to set. The girl pointed to a clearing in the distance just as the ring had processed enough of their conversations.

Language analysis done. 91% match to ancient human language with consistent dialect changes. Imprinting new local language and intonation on host.

Massive pain exploded in Josh’s brain, dropping him to his knees behind a tree as the wagon made its way to the clearing. He saw stars as he held his head in his hands and waited for the pain to stop. Fortunately, a few moments later it did, and it took him a few minutes to recover.

He quietly made his way to the clearing, hiding behind a tree trunk to view their camp. She had untethered her horse and hobbled it to a patch of grass. She was just returning with a bucket of sloshing water from the direction of the river. She set it down by the horse and patted the animal.

“There you go, Buttercup. You have a good rest.” She stroked its flanks, then headed back to the wagon.

“Even her voice is mighty fine,” Josh muttered, edging forward as he tried to get a better view. He was amazed at being able to understand her, but her beauty surpassed the amazement.

“Can you help me, Arabella?” the old man asked. “My bones ache. That was a long trek. It's such a shame. So close to Elrima. We'd have made it if it hadn’t been for that storm yesterday.”

Arabella is a pretty name, he thought.

Arabella helped him down, her smile so broad her cheeks dimpled. “It means I have you all to myself for another night. You know you’ll be buried in old scrolls and deciphering runes day and night as soon as we arrive. I’ll barely get to see you, Father.”

He grunted. “It’s a dire situation if the message is to be believed. A stone colossus doesn’t wake itself, you know. I just hope the tavern is still standing!” He attempted to laugh at his joke, but his chuckle descended to a long, drawn-out wheeze and then a coughing fit.

“Sit and rest there!” she said. “I’ll get a nice fire going and you can warm yourself. We should have stayed with the elves. Elowen is quite capable of solving the riddle.”

“Elowen is young, too young for something so complex.”

“Nonsense. She graduated two years ago. She’s in her prime.” Arabella sniffed. “I suppose you think I’m still a child. We’re the same age, you know—Elowen and me. Look what she’s done with her life, then look where I am. I’ve done nothing!”

The old man sighed. “Oh, Arabella, that is my fault. I didn’t want you to have to look after your mother. But I was busy—” His voice tapered off, and he sat, staring into the trees. “You should have been able to leave and follow your dreams.”

She crouched by him, her short skirt riding up. “I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing, just like I was when I cared for Mother. I’m looking after you now, the greatest monster hunter that has ever lived!”

The old man grunted. “Once, maybe, not now, not for a long time. He has the upper hand now. The bastard—” He trailed off again. “Never mind. We’ll do this one last task. Then I shall find somewhere to live—somewhere safe, so you can make a life for yourself.”

“I’m perfectly happy,” she snapped. “Stay there. I’ll set the fire and get cooking.”

She retrieved some kindling from the wagon, then headed to the far edge of the clearing and gathered some wood.

Josh edged closer, wanting to walk in and introduce himself, perhaps help with the food and share some, but he had no idea what the etiquette was, nor did he want to frighten them.

He knew he must look really odd. He wore his spacesuit—a tight beige airtight one-piece and light zip-tie boots. He’d definitely resemble an alien. His cropped hair wouldn’t help, either. The old man had a fantastic mane of white hair that trailed past his shoulders. Josh had no doubt short hair would look odd. He was about to step out when Arabella returned with a handful of firewood.

She bent over, setting the wood and lighting the fire. Josh’s mouth dropped as he received an eyeful of cleavage.

“Damn,” he muttered to himself, but soon forgot that he was going to step out. Something about her was just mesmerizing as he watched her.

Arabella set an iron tripod over the fire, then hung a pot, grabbed another bucket, and headed back to the river, returning and filling the pot. She sang while chopping vegetables and meat, popping it all in the pot, seasoning it with herb pinches, and stirring. Her voice was soft and melodic.

He must have zoned out for a moment because all of a sudden, two men rushed out from the woods on the other side of the camp and pushed Arabella to the ground. She backed up beside her father as one of the men stood over them. The other man rushed to the wagon and threw open the seat lid to the storage box under the seat. He glared back at the father, a couple of rolled-up scrolls in his hand, not seeing anything else of value in the box.

“What is this shit?” he growled. “Where’s your money?”

“Everything we have is in the small pouch there, but it’s only coppers. We didn’t bring any gold,” Arabella shouted back at them. “And those scrolls are irreplaceable!”

“Irreplaceable? They’re worthless.” The man threw them on the ground and walked back to them. “Now,” he said, drawing his sword and resting it on the old man’s shoulder. “One flick of this blade and your throat’s cut.”

The old man looked up with no fear in his eyes. “I’ve stared harder deaths in the eye. Do your worst to me, but leave her out of it. We have no gold, not here. If you leave her unharmed, she can get you gold in Elrima.”

The smaller man snickered. “Oh, we’ve got plans for her, old man. You town types shouldn’t be out in the country all on your own.” He raised his axe. “Let’s get this shit over and done with, Gort. We can find the gold when they’re dead.”

“I am Thadius Extrael,” the old man announced. “You’ll find that name—”

“Shut the fuck up!” the larger man screamed.

“I fucking hate bullies,” Josh muttered as his temper sparked. The spark lit and exploded as a wave of fury enveloped him. He had to do something and burst from the undergrowth, not even grabbing his weapons. He screamed, “You want gold? I’ve got gold. Loads of gold. Heaps of the stuff. Some nights, I even bathe in it!”

“Who the hell are you?” the shorter man said.

But Josh’s anger had a hold of him. He’d always had a fiery temper, but this was something even more. It wasn’t going to be quenched without violence. He felt energized and ready, grinning a bit crazy. “Name’s Josh, Josh Underwood, and you’d be wise to be polite to your elders and young ladies, or you might find yourself on the wrong end of a beating.”

Gort didn’t waste any time on words. He ran at Josh, sword raised. But Josh was ready for it and jinked to Gort’s side, anticipating a clumsy swing and seeing the thug’s chin open up. He punched him—a glancing blow that snapped his chin around and sent him staggering forward. The other man was already attacking before Josh managed to set himself. He brought his axe down. Josh ducked, holding his hand up to stop the blow, but he misjudged it and caught the blade instead of grabbing the shaft. It sliced into his palm but got no farther than the bone.

Pain erupted in him, but it fired Josh’s anger even more. He growled and snarled at the man, grabbing the axehead as his blood dripped from his palm. “Is that the best you’ve got?” he asked, then leaned forward, planted his feet, and unleashed an uppercut with his free hand. It connected with the man’s chin, lifting him from his feet and sending him flying backward.

“You fucker!” The shout came from behind. Josh dropped the axe, making a fist with his ruined hand to stem his blood flow, and spun around.

He was too late. Gort was already almost upon him, sword arcing down. Josh watched in horror as the blade came at him. He dove to the left but knew he was too slow when blood burst from Gort’s head, an arrow sprouting from his eye socket. Gort twisted around, knocked backward as his legs gave way. The sword came down, missing Josh’s head but burying itself in his shoulder. He grunted in pain, wondering if the wound was fatal. Falling to the ground, one final thought entered his mind.

I could have been so powerful.

He opened his eyes and looked up at Arabella as she stared down at him. She had the greenest irises he’d ever seen. They weren’t pale green, but a rich emerald flecked with tiny spots of brown.

“You’re so beautiful,” escaped his mouth before he was really thinking.

“You live,” she said with a blush and a smirk.

“And you have some explaining to do,” Thadius added. “An ordinary man doesn’t heal that quickly. Nor does he catch an axe head and keep his fingers. Or wear the most remarkable material we’ve ever seen. So, yes, you have some explaining to do, but we have some thanking to do.” The old man looked down at him. “You saved our lives, and it won’t go unrewarded. Although, I did have a trick or two up my sleeve.”

“They deserved what they got,” Josh said. “I could use some help, though.”

Thadius chuckled. “Not sure any man deserves to have his head taken off by one punch, but I’ll grant you they weren’t pleasant fellows.”

“You saved my life,” Josh said, remembering Arabella with her bow in hand and the arrow poking from Gort’s eye socket.

“It was a fine shot,” she said, smiling. “But I wouldn’t have been able to make it without your intervention. You attacked without weapons. Have you none?”

“I had a branch club and sharp stone,” he admitted. “But they were forgotten in my rush to get at them. They should still be in the bush.”

“You were spying on us?”

“I was hungry. I was trying to work out the best way to join your camp when they rushed in. I was taken by surprise and took a moment to react.”

“No food? No weapons?” Thadius said. “But pots of gold?”

“That bit was a lie,” Josh admitted.

“Just who are you, young man?”

It was a damn fine question. One he didn’t have an answer for. I recently fell to this planet, having dropped through a wormhole and traveled for nearly two hundred years, appeared a little unbelievable, given the apparent medieval circumstances.

“Could you accept a stranger down on his luck and leave it at that? I pose no threat to you or your daughter.”

Arabella took his hand, unfolding it and scrubbing it with a wet cloth. “How have you healed so fast?”

Her touch sent shivers up his arm. She was stunning—there was no doubting it.

“Leave it, Arabella,” Thadius said. “Forgive us, errr… I don’t believe we caught your name.”

“Josh, Josh Underwood,” Arabella said. “He told the bandits.”

Thadius glanced at her, his lips set in a thin line. “Josh, Josh Underwood, eh? Well, forgive us, Josh. We’re questioning you like you’re in the wrong when all you did was put yourself in danger. Let us eat. Then, perhaps, you’ll furnish us with your story—if you feel like it, that is.”

Josh sat up. “I’ll tell you what I can, but I doubt you’d believe the truth.”

Thadius grunted. “Young man, I’ve seen a lot during my life. It might not look like it now, but I was once a man of some reputation. I slay monsters—or I did until my hip started playing up.” He smacked his lips together. “Cold gets in it. It’s fine now. Hmmm, I’m rambling. Look, nothing you can tell me would shock me.”

“That I doubt. Prepare to have your socks blown off,” Josh said and sat up.

Chapter Five

TELLING them he'd escaped a spaceship while carrying formidable alien tech, entered a wormhole, traveled for two centuries before crashlanding on a hill, and then stumbling across them was a little too much. So, he told a few out-and-out lies, but they were along the right lines.

“I took something from an evil wizard,” he said, desperately hoping there was magic in the land. “His soldiers were killing my people with his tech, err, magic. It made his troops much tougher and faster than ours; a few were indestructible. My people needed to understand it, and we hoped our wizards could replicate it to give us some chance against his armies.”

“A wizard?” Thadius asked, and Josh's heart fell.

No fucking wizards? Are you kidding me?

“I've known a few wizards in my time,” Thadius continued. “Hated them all. Apart from one chap called Sumdgeon. He was all right, I suppose—for a wizard, anyway.”

“You fought an evil wizard?” Arabella asked. Wonder colored her gorgeous green eyes, and her breasts nearly spilled over her top as she leaned forward.

“Not fought, no. I was more the clean-up crew. Some other brave men and women engaged the evil wizard and his forces. One gave me the magical item before he died. I barely escaped, but I did just as they were all wiped out by a terrible magical explosion.”

Josh fell silent. He hadn't seen the explosion—it wasn't like the pod had windows he could see out of, after all, but the force of the shockwave combined with a loss of all communication told him the aliens had destroyed the Herald of Dawn.

Arabella reached out, resting her arm on his. “It's okay. We don't need to know anymore.”

“I'd like to hear the rest of it,” Thadius said. “It might do Josh good to tell somebody about it all. Clear the air.”

“There's not much more to tell. The wizard must have seen my escape. Knowing I had some of his magic, I think he opened a portal that sent me here, or pure chance happened to be on my side.”

Thadius raked at his trim beard, all the while staring at Josh. “My gut tells me you're concealing something, but I think the bones of what you say are the truth. So, what is this magic? Is it that ring? I saw it glow, saw the blue magic enter you.”

“It's the ring, yes.”

“And is that what saved your hand? Is it why you heal so quickly?”

“I think so,” he lied, then looked at Arabella. He wanted to tell her as much of the truth as he could. “No, I know it is. It makes my bones harder and my skin tougher. It enhances my speed and agility, and I think faster during a fight.” He scoffed. “I think it’s how the wizard’s men were beating us. Look, I'm not sure how it works. I just know it does, and the magic speaks to me.”

Thadius considered his next words carefully. “I think you carry the greatest mystery I have ever encountered, young man. I wish you well with it.”

“But father!” Arabella said. “He should come with us. We can help him unravel it. It's what we do!”

“He has his path, daughter. Ours is a much simpler one.”

“Begging your pardon,” Josh said. “But I don't have anything. I have no idea where I am and unfortunately, I know I can’t return home. I’m not too sure about what to do either.”

“Don't you have to find a way back to your people? Don't you have to rescue them?”

Josh dithered. He had no idea how to tell them he'd traveled for one hundred and eighty-six years. In all likelihood, the war he'd fought in would be over and done with. The human race would have found another way. Or they'd all be dead—at least, his people. The humans on this planet were clearly alive and well.

“I’m sure that battle is over. Please don't ask me how, but my gut tells me that the portal sent me through time and space. I have an immense feeling of certainty that everyone I ever knew is dead.”

“Perhaps they are,” said Thadius. “It is quite possible that you can never return to your people. It's up to you to decide if you want to try or if you're going to make a new life.”

That choice was easy for Josh, but he wanted to look like he agonized over it. It would cement his half-truth. There was no chance of him ever getting back. The pod was only made for a one-way trip and had no launch capacity without him even considering fuel and other essentials.

Fortunately, Arabella dished up the food and passed him a bowl. She reached into her bag and pulled out a round of flatbread, tearing a piece and handing him a spoon. “It's rabbit stew,” she said. “I'm a dead-eye with an arrow.”

“I saw your work with the bandit. You are a master of the bow,” Josh said, grinning. He felt much better about everything. Thadius had been right. Talking it out was the best thing he could have done. It had cleared his head, and his story wasn't an out-and-out lie, more an extended metaphor for what had happened. “Look, I don’t have many skills, but I’m a fast learner. I’ll need help adjusting to a new land, but I’d like to join you, if you’ll have me. I think there’s more safety in numbers, based on how easily those bandits got the upper hand.”

Arabella tried to say something, but Thadius put up his hand. “No, that is mine to answer.” He took his bowl and bread. “It's hard for me to hear that, but you are right. I am old. I have to accept this. But I still have much to give, and I’m not as feeble as I made out.” He spooned some stew into his mouth, shaking his head. “But perhaps the gods are watching both of us.”

“Look, if I overstepped, it's okay. I'll be fine on my own.”

“No, it is fortuitous. I was giving up my line of work because of Arabella. These bandits proved it to me. You coming along wasn't a mere chance. It was destiny—if you believe in fate.” He looked at the stars for a moment in silence before he whispered, “I suppose I do believe.”

“Then you'll have me?”

He grunted. “Not looking like that. We need you to fit in. Your story is good, but you must tell it more convincingly.”

Josh's jaw dropped. “Look—”

Thadius held his hand up. “Just answer me two questions. Are you from another land?”

“Yes.”

“Is there no chance of you ever going back?”

“No chance at all.”

“Then we can trust each other. Fate has driven us together. The issue remains. You can't go into town looking like that.” He glanced at the two corpses. “You'll need to drag those away before we sleep, or the scavengers will come, and once they have bloodlust, they might cast an eye over our camp. I suggest you take what clothing might fit you, wash it in the river, and change.”

“Theirs?” Josh screwed his nose up. “How long until the town?”

“We'll get there tomorrow.”

“Can you lend me the money to get new clothes?”

He grunted. “That is a conversation for the morning. But, if you work for me, there has to be a wage. I'll not be able to pay you much, but I’m sure we can come to an accommodation that works for both of us.”

Josh finished his stew, then sat momentarily before deciding to tackle the grizzly task of dragging the bodies away. “Thank you,” he said to Arabella. “I needed that.”

Then, as he was about to get up, he received his notifications from the fight.

Basic attributes deemed inadequate

Working on solutions to enhance existing attributes

Strength - poor

Speed and agility - poor

Durability - poor

Combat instinct - adequate

Assessing requirements to protect the host

Upgrading Strength

Strength +1

Upgrading speed and agility

Speed and agility +1

Upgrading durability

Durability +1

New Score =

Strength = 2

Speed and Agility = 4

Durability = 6

Combat instinct = 5

Average = 4.25

Rank = Novice Enforcer

Tier = Bronze Initiate

Title = Bronze Initiate of the Novice Enforcer

Applying changes.

He gritted his teeth, the warm feeling flowing through him. It focused on his neck and shoulder, toughening up the skin and strengthening his bones there. His muscles pulled, and his tendons and ligaments all tightened and then relaxed. He took a breath.

Both Arabella and Thadius stared at him.

“Something happened, didn't it?” Thadius said.

“Yes. It assessed my performance in the fight. Sometimes it takes a while. The brawl drained me of energy—or my healing did. The food renewed it. I think it was waiting for that.”

Thadius nodded. “Your skin glowed blue around your neck. We can't have that happen out in the open. The cultists will judge you as a heretic.” He scoffed. “Or worse, the magical society will label you as a warlock. We must keep a low profile until we fully understand you.”

“But how are you going to do that, father?”

He grunted. “A low profile? Never managed it yet.” A wry grin spread on his face. “And now I have a bodyguard, it'll be even harder.”

Josh rose, the additional strength in his legs apparent from the slight movement. He walked over to Gort, discounting all the man's clothes because the thug was much bigger than him and stank.

“I think he shit himself when he died.” He screwed up his face.

He picked up Gort's sword, giving it a few swings.

“You've never fought with a sword, have you?” Thadius said.

“No, we, err, didn't have them where I came from. We had things like bows, but a hundred times more lethal.”

“Things like bows and no swords?” Arabella said. “What a strange place. I can't wait to hear what it was like.”

Not as glamorous as you'd think, he thought.

But he looked at her, falling into her eyes once more. “I'll look forward to telling you, but my life wasn't that interesting.”

She grinned, displaying her dimples again, and Josh's heart melted. Turning back to his gruesome task, he caught Thadius looking at him. The old man frowned, shaking his head.

He doesn't want me near his daughter, Josh thought. And I can't afford to piss him off.

He dragged Gort into the bushes, searching the man for anything of value but coming up empty. Returning to the other, he stripped the man's waistcoat and pants. Both were filthy and in a terrible state of repair. His boots smelled rank and had holes in both toes. Josh held his breath as he dragged the semi-naked man away, picking up his ‘new’ clothes and taking them to the river.

He heard a twig crack behind him as he washed them. Whipping around, he readied his fists but relaxed immediately upon seeing Arabella.

“Arabella?”

“I thought I'd come and give you a hand.”

“Your father won't like it. I get the feeling he doesn't trust me.”

She grimaced. “He likes you all right, but he's very protective of me.” She grabbed the shirt and dunked it into the river. “He'll relax as he gets to know you, just so long as you don't try anything with me. He doesn’t trust me much.” She winked at him. “I was a bit of a tearaway back in the city before…”

“Before?”

“Before my mother became ill.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

She let slip a waning smile. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You lost everyone you love. I lost one person.”

“But still…” he said, but could find no more words.

He glanced over at her and became a little distracted, his heart pounding. Her white top soaked up the moonlight, making her breasts appear even more enticing than before. Coupled with the cloth getting wet and slowly becoming see-through, it was getting too much to bear.

“He’ll be fine, just so long as you don’t misbehave.” She glanced at him, looking away quickly, her cheeks flushing.

“Would you like me to?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Ahh, sorry. That just slipped out. I shouldn't have—”

She rinsed the shirt out and grabbed the pants from him. “Don't be. A girl likes a bit of flattery.” She glanced around. “And you're young, clean, and you've got all your teeth. Around here, what more could a girl want?”

“Is that the standard for a man?” he grinned as he asked.

“Deep in the south? A full set of teeth is as handsome as any get. But you'd be average in the city.”

“I would not,” he said, then splashed her.

She recoiled, slapping him with the wet pants. “You would so!” She shoved him away from the bank, but he grabbed her arms and brought her closer.

“Then I'll have to get handsome as well as strong.” Josh inhaled hard, loosening his grip but not letting go.

Arabella was breathing heavily, too, her top soaked and breasts fully visible. “Come and get me when you are,” she said with a twinkle in her eye, before she slid free and headed back to the camp, vanishing through the undergrowth.

He looked after her, the image of her fantastic curves highlighted by her soaking wet dress filled his mind. It only took a moment for him to imagine her naked and lying under him. Hell, on top of him, on her knees, any position, it didn’t matter. Then, he closed his eyes and held his breath, trying his darndest to calm his racing heart. But all he could see was him and her, fighting monsters, drinking ale, and making love until the morning.

Monster hunting with Arabella sounded like a good life, one he wouldn't screw up by rushing things.

All he had to do was keep his dick under control.

Chapter Six

JOSH SPENT much of the night on watch. For some reason, he wasn’t tired. It was like his body was busy. He imagined the bots, or whatever they were, working away to improve him. He tried to separate himself from the guilt that lurked in the back of his mind.

He’d replayed that day’s events a hundred times, but he couldn’t see how he could have done things differently. Midge and Dex fucking off had narrowed his options to stay on the Herald or escape in the pod. If he’d stayed, the Grillons would have blown him to bits.

No, there wasn’t a damn thing he could have done differently that would have created a different outcome. He had to accept that—had to move on. Whatever had happened in the years after his escape was beyond his control. He had to forget that life. It wouldn’t be easy, but he’d think less and less about it in time.

Wasn’t that exactly what I wanted when I joined the Lincanto?

That thought briefly flitted through him. He’d run away from life once before, but that was different. That was through unbearable pain and sorrow. That was fate kicking him firmly in the nuts.

His other thoughts all doubted the luck he’d experienced lately. When had he become so fortunate? For a start, he’d survived both the journey and the landing. Second, he had the ring. It recognized him and had become accustomed to his body. He was about to become an overpowered guy in a land full of beautiful women. Of course, he had no basis for assuming all women in the land were gorgeous, but he’d always leaned heavily on statistics. So far, the stats said one woman encountered, one hot woman, variance zero. It was good enough. Lastly, he’d met Thadius and Arabella. Stunning daughter aside, life with them would be pretty exciting.

There was one downer. He had to put on the smaller thug’s clothes. Even after washing them, he imagined them crawling with bugs. He kicked at them, easing them farther away, picturing lines of lice marching toward him, ready to jump on board and go for a ride.

“Still awake?” Thadius asked, sitting up.

“I’m having trouble sleeping. Thought I’d take Arabella’s watch. She’s had a hell of a day, as have you.”

“All three of us,” Thadius replied. “But yes, she had the most to lose. The thought of those thugs getting their hands on her sends shivers up my spine.”

“I will do my best to keep her safe—keep both of you safe. I have a path. I can get stronger.”

“But you will need to learn your weapons. I take it you don’t entirely understand the ring’s magic?”

“You’d be correct, but I’m getting the gist. It tells me I’m a Novice Enforcer, Bronze Initiate. The next level is Iron Apprentice. I don’t know how far it goes, but I know of at least four levels above where I am. I was always one for an immediate goal rather than the far-off ones, so I’ll focus on the next level first.”

“What do you think you need to do?”

Josh tilted his head, screwing his lips up. “I need to run as fast as possible—preferably through uneven terrain. I must build my strength and fight, too. Fighting will increase my combat instinct, while getting injured is a sure way to improve my durability. Food replenishes me, so that’s important as well.”

Thadius said nothing in reply at first, regarding Josh while drumming his fingers. “I think we can make some good progress with you between here and Elrima. I will teach you to fight, but you must do exactly what I say.”

“You’ll teach me the sword?”

“Among other things, but first, we need to increase your power. You aren’t particularly fit, yet you are already powerful. Imagine what you’d be if you were. With your rejuvenation trick, we could get there pretty quickly. Train, food, train, food, and repeat.”

“Then you’ll teach me the sword?”

“I think Carl will.”

“Carl?”

“An associate. He works in Elrima. Yes, Carl will knock you into shape. So, are you prepared to work hard until you are stronger?”

“I am,” Josh said without hesitation. He’d never shirked hard work. After his time on the Lincanto, he needed it. That job had been a mistake. But then, he’d needed to get away—needed to heal.

But Thadius shook his head. “No. Not good enough. You need something to spur you on when you think you haven’t an ounce of strength left. You need something to break the pain barrier. Something that will stop you from giving up.”

“Have you got something in mind?”

“I do. What was after Bronze Initiate?”

“Iron Apprentice.”

He nodded. “I think I might not mind an Iron Apprentice courting my daughter, but if I find a Bronze Initiative even looking at her the wrong way, all deals are off. I’ll not have her seeing a failure, after all.”

“You know?”

He chuckled. “She’s a beautiful woman. Am I sure? I’m not stupid. That’s what I’m sure of. Am I happy about the way she looks at you? No. You aren’t anything yet. But you might be. You’ve done more to protect her these last hours than any man before.”

“Do I have to wear those clothes? She’ll never look at me again if I put them on.”

Thadius laughed. “No. I was seeing how much you wanted to join us. I wouldn’t even burn those things. I have spare cloaks in the wagon. You can take one until we get you something that fits better.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Thadius said, lying back down. “Iron Apprentice—remember that. Iron Apprentice and not before.”

The first rays of golden light streamed through the forest’s canopy. Josh welcomed them. Tired of the night—tired of overthinking everything. He jumped up, feeling refreshed despite his lack of sleep—feeling great, way too good—like he could take on the world. He had a plan, and he didn’t need the old man to begin it. He stretched and stripped down to his pants.

The trail led away around a hundred yards in each direction before turning. It gave him a decent enough stretch to sprint up and down. He singled out one low branch he could do pull-ups on and spread his new cloak on the ground, giving him a spot to do his crunches and push-ups.

A good workout should see me gain a few points, he thought.

He began his sprints. When they had no effect, he did crunches, push-ups, pull-ups, more sprints. He rested, wondering if that was why he lacked progress notifications. Then he drank some water and nibbled on some bread, but nothing, not a damn thing, prompted the ring to increase his stats.

So, he started over. He sprinted to one end, dropped, did ten push-ups, jumped up, raced to the other end, and did ten crunches—still nothing.

“Not working, is it?” Thadius said.

Josh ambled back. “I don’t understand it. I can’t work out what I’m doing wrong.”

Thadius sat up. “I’ve been thinking about it all. Why didn’t any scavengers come after the corpses over there?”

Josh shrugged. He hadn’t taken much notice of them, barring the odd feeling they might rise like zombies in the dead of night and lumber toward him. But he imagined that was usual if two corpses lay close to you. “No, it didn’t cross my mind.”

“It crossed mine. The bodies are far enough away to tear a leg off and drag it into the undergrowth. But they didn’t come. I think I know why.”

“Go on,” Josh said, crouching down.

“Animals have a heightened sense of danger. They can taste the air and know when it’s about. We have it, but not like them. The scavengers were scared of you. There was something about you that kept them away.”

“Me?”

“Something inside you. Perhaps something you emitted? I wonder if the magic protected you while it sought to understand?”

“Understand what?”

“Why do you think you couldn’t sleep?” Thadius asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“No, but you suspect, don’t you?”

“Yes. I think the ring was repairing my body.”

Thadius shook his head. “Not repairing, no. Not that. You had a blue aura all through the night. It’s gone now. The magic was up to something far more intense than that. Were the creatures that you stole the artifact from humans?”

“No. No, they were different from us. Why?”

“Take the axe wound you suffered—think on that. When it repaired you, it strengthened only that bit. It was like the magic expected the rest to be fine. It imagined that area was your only weak spot. Did the other creatures have natural armor?”

Josh thought back. He’d seen the Grillon’s crushed body. Shining black armor covered its hands, arms, and shoulders. It wore a helmet as well. The rest lay under the girder.

“They had armor covering their whole bodies,” he replied.

“So, it would be fair to say that the magic was trying to repair a defect in your armor yesterday.”

“What are you getting at?”

Thadius sat up. “I think that last night it adapted to who you were. It recognized that patching you up wasn’t working and needed to weave a new structure within you for you to progress.” He raised his hands. “I might be wrong, of course.”

Josh pondered his words. “No, no, I think you might be right. But why isn’t my exercising working?”

Thadius rose, walking over to the cart. “I have a theory on that, too. Stand up.”

“You think he’s too skinny to train properly?” Arabella said, waking and sitting up. “The magic has to work with a stick, and it doesn’t know what to do with it! That’s it, Father.”

“Who asked you?” Josh said. “Skinny?” He rolled his eyes, although he was aware he had lost a lot of weight during his immersion.

“No, I think we need to train his magic differently.” He pulled a staff from the wagon and circled Josh. “Take the running, for instance. He wasn’t running in fear for his life. He wasn’t too slow. It made no difference whether he walked or ran because he was never in danger. The same goes for the other stuff.” Thadius positioned himself beside Josh. “Now, what if he were in danger?”

Thadius drew back the staff and swung it, smashing it straight into Josh’s belly before he could react. Josh doubled over, falling to his knees. Arabella screamed, but Thadius followed his blow with another straight across Josh’s back, then a third right into his kidneys.

“What the hell?” Josh managed.

“Father! What are you doing?”

“An experiment, my dear. An experiment.”

Josh tried to crawl away as Thadius’ shadow fell over him, and the old man raised the staff again, bringing it down with an almighty thump.

Josh blacked out.

Severe Damage

Assessing consequences

Dispatching healing bots

Assessing solutions

Basic attributes deemed inadequate

Basic senses absent

Working on solutions to enhance existing attributes

Strength - adequate

Speed and agility - adequate

Durability – extremely poor

Combat instinct - poor

Assessing requirements to protect the host

Upgrading durability

Durability +2

Upgrading combat instinct

Combat instinct +1

New Score =

Strength = 2

Speed and Agility = 4

Durability = 8

Combat instinct = 6

Average = 5

Adding basic sense

Basic intuitive hazard detection added - passive

Rank = Novice Enforcer

Tier = Bronze Initiate

Title = Bronze Initiate of the Novice Enforcer

Applying changes.

Notes:

Basic intuitive hazard detection – the ability to sense danger within a limited sphere of operation. Passive—requires no actions from the host. Upgrades over time as the host adapts.

Josh came to. He tried to crawl toward the fire, but his arm was broken, and he suspected several ribs were, too.

“Give me a hand, Arabella,” Thadius said. “We should drag him closer to the fire.”

“I think it worked. He’s glowing again.”

“How did you know?” Josh asked.

“I’ve studied monsters all my life. How do you think I knew?”

“Is that what I am?”

“No, Josh. I don’t think you’re a monster. But you could become one.”

Chapter Seven

ARABELLA REGARDED him with a mix of wonder and urgency. “I really want to see you start training. I want to see you get more powerful. It's a miracle, that's what it is, a fine, fine miracle.” She rounded on her father. “Josh won't turn into a monster, Dad. I know he won't. He hasn't got a bad bone in him.”

“No, Arabella, it's no miracle,” Thadius countered. “Miracles are random, unexplained events which, more often than not, are completely contrived. This is something different.”

She stirred the pot, readying breakfast, which resembled their previous evening's meal. “Then what is it?”

Josh shifted uneasily. He'd managed to sit up, but his arm still ached. Coldness had got right in its center and pulsed its frigid pain like a beacon. He had no answers for her. His new sense consumed him, taking all of his focus and preventing him from contributing anything to the conversation.

A whole new world had opened up to him. He could feel everything around him. The sense stretched from the river on one side into the forest on the other, along the road in both directions, up into the trees, and even underground. He knew precisely where any danger lay. At that moment, a wolf crouched near the two dead thugs, and some carrion perched in the trees.

“I think I am beginning to regard it as a core,” Thadius announced.

For some reason, that caught Josh's attention. He'd heard of cores. They'd featured in many fantasy programs he’d loved to watch with Janine. His heart sunk at the thought of her. He scolded himself. She’d died long ago, but the wound was still fresh. It was past time to move on.

He realized he had moved on the moment he’d seen Arabella. She was the first woman he’d really looked at since her. He focused his mind back on the conversation, wanting to know more.

“A core?” he asked, wanting to know what Thadius’ take would be.

“Yes. As you know, I've studied monsters for a long, long time, and I believe that cores fuel some—not all by any means. These cores have a magical base that, in some way, drives the beast to do terrible things. Of course, no one has ever found a monster core, so it's all pure conjecture, but several things have driven me to that conclusion.”

“Father is one of the foremost thinkers regarding monsters.”

“I thought you just killed them,” Josh said.

“The more you understand, the easier the task. If you are to become a monster slayer, then this is something you must take on board. A broad understanding is essential because not all monsters are great slathering beasts. They can be sorcerers, death cults, anything, or anyone who has the ability to do evil, and we fight all of them. Fortunately, if you decide our path suits you, it will be easier for you than it was for me.”

“Why's that?”

“Because of people like Elowen,” Arabella said. “She's wonderful. Dad's best student.”

Thadius grunted. “Hardly a student of mine anymore. Elowen is one of several researchers. They weren't around when I was slaying monsters at the beginning, but I probably didn't need one. Monsters were just monsters, then. Today’s beasts are much more complex creatures. They have evolved. Dark forces we can't comprehend control some. Others spring up from nowhere. No, a researcher is a must if you want to become a great monster slayer—if you want to live long enough to get the chance to reach those heights.”

“Pick Elowen!” Arabella said. “She’s perfect. You’ll love her.”

“Hold on!” Josh held his good arm up. “I'm not even sure your dad wants to train me. I'm just the bodyguard at the moment.”

Thadius face clouded to a new depth of seriousness. “Monster hunting isn't something you pick. It's something you cannot help but do. It isn't for you if you can walk away as a village is destroyed, as women are torn in half and children swallowed whole. If you can witness a foul cultist enslave a hundred folk, it isn’t for you. But if you simply hear about it, and you can't help but run toward the danger, you have found your vocation. You are a monster slayer.”

Josh seriously doubted he could sit by and watch such slaughter, but he wasn't sure he'd go looking for it either. “I guess time will tell. I don't know if I have the courage to run into danger like that.”

“Says the man who raced to our aid only yesterday. Says the man who faced two armed thugs without a weapon of his own,” Thadius replied.

“You're a monster slayer, and you know it,” Arabella said. She dished up the stew and tore him another chunk of bread. “Eat, train, and eat again. That's what we will do today.”

Josh took the bowl. He was famished and needed food. The ring demanded fuel to function. “The latest upgrade gave me a new sense,” he said, then shoved a lump of bread in his mouth.

Thadius took his bowl from Arabella. “A new sense?”

“It's called Basic Intuitive Hazard Detection. It's like I can see any threat anywhere within a certain distance from me.”

“A sphere of perception,” the old man said. “You are becoming like one of them. This is no ordinary magic in you. What do your people call it?”

“We call it tech. It comes from an old word, technology.”

“We have a similar word—techne or the art and craft of something. So, this is something more than magic. It is a—The word escapes me.”

“It's like a system inside me,” Josh said. “Imagine that core you talked about earlier. Forget the ring. Think of it as a core inside me—a new brain, but one that only cares about making me stronger, faster, better able to defend myself, and deadly in attack when needed.”

“Your fighting core,” Arabella said.

“Yes, that. That is what it feels like.”

“This perception sphere,” Thadius continued his own train of thought. “Do you have to engage it, or does it always work?”

“It's called a passive sense. It's always on, so I'll have to learn to tune it out and only recognize the important info.”

“Monsters have that. It's like a sixth sense to them. Try and sneak up on one, and it always wakes. It knows where you are, your angle of attack, your intent, everything. It is instinctual in all of us, just mostly dormant in humans.”

“That's what it is. It's like a radar that tracks anything with hostile intent toward me.”

“What's a radar?” Arabella asked.

“It's a machine.”

“A what?”

He grinned. “It would take me a long time to explain. A machine is something from my world. It'll take me ages to tell you about it because I think one explanation will lead to a dozen more questions.”

“Something for Elrima,” said Thadius. “So, assuming this new sense has a range, we can hypothesize that we can increase the range by using it. Therefore, we will have to make you feel vulnerable to trigger it.” He set his empty bowl down. “I think I have just the way.”

Josh didn't particularly like the way he said it. He wiped his bowl clean, then flexed his arm. “Healed,” he said.

“Would you like me to beat you within an inch of your life again?”

Josh eyed him up and down. “You know, Thadius, I don't think you're as frail as you made out. I think you could have taken those two thugs alone.”

Thadius inclined his head and screwed his face up. “It wouldn't have been a sure thing, but I had Arabella to consider. She will be training in hand-to-hand combat while we are in Elrima. Her mother taught her the bow—it was her thing. Archers never imagine they'll get into a fight for some reason. That arrogance makes them useless without their bows.”

“Dad only agreed that I could come along if I became good at all melee disciplines.” She frowned.

“Carl can teach you both,” Thadius said. “But our task comes first, so it must be first thing in the morning and early evening.”

Arabella perked. “It'll be more fun with Josh.”

Thadius shook his head. “It's not meant to be fun.” Then he inhaled. “Or is that me being an old, grumpy bastard?”

“Are you sure about this?” Josh asked.

“Just hold the staff in place,” Thadius replied as he tied Josh's wrists to it. The staff crossed his shoulders behind his neck, his arms outstretched and holding its ends. “It will make you vulnerable, which will test your perception or basic hazard detection, as you call it.”

“Perception is easier,” Josh admitted.

“We'll settle on that. So, you'll feel vulnerable, and that will increase your perception. The staff will make you duck and weave, which should test your agility. If you get attacked, you'll try and run because you can't defend yourself, which should help with your speed. If you fail, then your durability comes into play. While impeded by the staff, you must be more inventive during the fight. That will increase your combat attribute.”

Josh admitted it was a sound plan, apart from two things. Firstly, he would be bait to lure beasts into a fight that he wouldn't be able to win. That sounded like a great way to die. Secondly, the road might twist and turn slightly, but it would hardly make him duck and weave.

“You'll be on hand to help me if I get attacked, right?”

“Arabella has her bow. She's quite good, you know.”

“Why would I have to duck and weave? The road's pretty wide.”

“But you won't be running along the road, will you?”

Josh didn't like the sound of that.

“What will I be running along?”

An evil glint filled Thadius’ eyes.

Josh stood in the river. Arabella had taken his boots off, leaving him barefoot.

“Really? No boots?”

“It will make you focus harder,” Thadius said. “So, run downstream—up would have been better, but we can't help the direction we're traveling in, so let's not moan about it. Run until you come to the end of the forest. We'll meet you there. Scream if you get attacked. The road isn't far away, and bigger creatures don't normally venture this close to towns.”

“Normally doesn't mean never, though, does it?”

Thadius creased his brow. “It means what it usually means, but it would be odd to see a bear this close to Elrima.” He shrugged. “But never say never.”

“Right,” said Josh, watching them go.

He didn't just feel vulnerable. He felt downright exposed—a trussed-up chicken in a wolf's den. The forest came alive, his perception sphere kicking in. Noises sounded from every direction—slithers, rustles, growls, and caws. Creatures filled the forest, all awake, all no doubt scavenging for breakfast.

“The old man was right,” he muttered. “I'll get my guts ripped out while increasing my perception sphere to no end. But, hey, I’ll die with a fantastic awareness of my surroundings.”

The river was eight feet wide, peppered with boulders, and shin-deep in its shallow parts. He could already feel his feet freezing with its sharp cold. Trees overhung it, narrowing the way he had to run through quite substantially. He would have to duck and weave, no doubt about that. The riverbed was also partly coated in slippery weeds, so he'd have to care there. He decided it was a good test—a bastard one, but a good one. Thadius knew what he was doing.

“Focus on the prize,” he said, imagining Arabella naked, lying spreadeagled on a bed as he hovered over her. “Focus on the prize.”

Iron Apprentice, here I come!

He took his first steps, slipping almost immediately. He steadied, calmed, and checked his perception, then began walking. Swiveling his arms around, he squeezed through the narrow gaps, jogging through the wider ones. He quickly found a rhythm. Slow, twist, and turn. Run straight on. Slow, twist, and turn.

He came to a small waterfall, attempted to jump it while keeping his stride up, lost his footing, and fell to one knee. He tried to put his hand out to break his fall but ended up flat on his face when he overbalanced. He struggled to get up, coming to his knees, soaking wet, cold, and becoming mighty pissed off.

“This is fucking stupid,” he growled, his anger rising.

He forced himself to his feet, running along, a silent growl sitting on his lips. He would do it. He was sure the old man was testing his resolve—positive, in fact. He would prove him wrong, evolve into an Iron Apprentice, and claim his prize. If she wanted him, that was. Mind you, he was pretty confident about that. She gave off all the right signals.

He found his rhythm again, becoming more fluid. He watched the water, understanding its eddying, the way some parts sped up while others slowed. It enabled him to pick a better path. His perception began to work differently, sensing the danger underfoot. Josh knew where his next step should be. Then the next two became apparent. Before he knew it, a whole path opened before him, ending at the periphery of his sphere.

That freed him to focus on the trees and branches. He trusted himself to find the correct foothold, even negotiating rapids without breaking stride. Lengthening his stride, he picked up his pace, enjoying the freedom his perception gave him. He took in his surroundings with a new appreciation. The forest was quite beautiful, the greens lush and varied, the river blue, bubbling and frothy. Overhead, white clouds dotted a blue sky. It was wonderful—so much better than the drab gray of the Lincanto.

He ducked and weaved, and soon that became instinctive. His new sense was incredible. It was a revelation—like a blind man seeing for the first time. Everything was clear, and what had been impossible an hour ago became as easy as breathing or walking. Josh began to enjoy the run despite being lashed to a staff.

“Gotta take my hat off to you, Thadius. You know what you're doing.”

Just as he settled into an easy stride, a bad feeling thumped him in the gut. His vision clouded with a dull red sheen, a bright speck behind him, just over his left shoulder.

He ducked on instinct, stopping, falling to one knee, and bringing his hand around as he swiveled his shoulders. A black flash raced past him, splashing into the water right in front of him. He instinctively knew he was in deep shit.

Chapter Eight

THE WOLF WAS HUGE, much bigger than the one he’d faced before. It curled its lips, baring its formidable teeth, fangs drooling, hackles erect, and eyes afire with hatred. Josh scrambled back, trying to free himself from the staff, but Thadius had lashed it tightly. He assessed his options. It didn’t take him long. The beast had him, and there wasn’t a whole lot he could do. He strained at the staff, trying to snap it off his back, cursing his weak strength when he couldn’t even bend it.

“Thadius! Arabella!” he shouted but had little faith in them coming. He’d raced down the river while their wagon barely trundled along at a walking pace. They’d be way behind him. He was all on his own.

“Okay, I’m fucked, but I’m going down fighting. Come on, then!” he screamed, hoping it might scare the wolf, but the creature stepped forward and closed its range.

Josh crouched. He tried baring his teeth at the wolf and snarling back instead of shouting. Rather than scare the beast, it roared at him and jumped. Josh instinctively ducked to one side, crouching again. The wolf caught his outstretched arm, smashing into the staff and yanking Josh around. He fell flat on his back, splashing into the river, head hitting a rock. The wolf rolled away, clearly surprised by the staff, but it was hardly the advantage Josh wanted. Blood welled from a nasty gash on his arm, and dizziness filled his mind.

The wolf recovered quickly, righting itself and shaking out its coat. It leaped again, Josh still on his back. He saw the attack coming before the wolf had even moved, and he readied his feet, meeting the beast as it fell on him, kicking out, his feet slamming into the wolf’s ribcage. A satisfying crunch sounded as his double kick lifted the wolf and sent it right over his head.

Josh scrambled around. He had his perception, but still trusted his eyes more. Edging over to a boulder, he rested against it, the river flowing around him. The creature rose a little slower than before, a squeal giving Josh real hope he’d damaged it in some way. It ran for him, readying to jump again. Josh raised his foot, but the wolf veered to one side, latching on to his damaged hand, teeth crunching into the staff.

“Arrgh!” Josh screamed as the pain ripped through him.

Ignoring it, he swiveled his body, wrapping his legs around the beast and crossing them. He could feel it breathing, feel its rage. It had locked its jaw on his arm, almost certainly trying to bleed him out. Josh had one hope. He squeezed his legs with all his might, hoping to force a broken rib into the creature’s lungs.

For a moment, they came to an impasse. The wolf tried to throw Josh off, but each attempt caused it more pain. Josh tried to clamp down harder but didn’t have the strength and was getting weaker and weaker.

He began jerking, trying to pull the wolf off him, but the beast raked his ass with its hind legs, claws scratching great furrows in him, more blood spilling into the river. The brief battle inevitably headed toward both combatants' demise. Once more, Josh couldn’t believe his new life would end so quickly.

He yelled, his lungs empty, hoping Thadius and Arabella had caught up, praying that one of her arrows would fly from the forest and pin the wolf. He heard a rustle, the breaking of twigs and branches, and he breathed a sigh of relief. They had caught up. Thadius! The sneaky bastard! He wouldn’t leave Josh alone! Then, his perception dulled to red again. A huge, bright blob came from the direction of the hillside.

“Holy shit, what the fuck’s that?” Josh muttered and redoubled his efforts to crush the wolf’s ribcage.

The beast stopped struggling as a giant bear burst from the undergrowth. It let go of Josh’s arm, trying to break Josh’s grip, wanting to escape, all thoughts of a tasty human meal gone.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Josh growled. He twisted his body around to get the beast between him and the bear. “Have a tasty wolf on me!”

The bear reared up, standing on two feet. It roared, then glared at them both, bounding forward, splashing through the water, one great, claw-strewn paw raised. It whipped down, tearing through Josh’s leg and piercing the wolf’s side. Gambling, Josh let go of the wolf. His leg exploded with pain, flesh hanging off. The bear stared at him, clearly confused as to why the human had given up its prey so quickly. Josh stared back, snarling again, trying his damndest to look like the harder meal.

“Yours all yours!” he screamed at the bear. “Take the wolf! Take the fucking wolf!” He pushed his other leg toward the bear, shoving the struggling wolf toward it. The bear fell on the creature, tearing its throat out with one swipe. Josh backed up, forcing himself to his feet, blood pouring from his leg wound, dripping from his arms, and running down from his butt. “Aaargh!” he screamed at the bear, who stepped back and stared at him. “Aaargh!” Josh cried again, his fear gone, pure adrenaline powering him.

The bear edged forward, hesitated, scooped up the wolf, and vanished into the forest.

Josh was fucked. Even with the ring’s healing power, he’d lost too much blood. He steadied, trying to focus his giddy mind. He had one hope—to get to the forest's edge and wait for Thadius and Arabella.

He gritted his teeth and ran, picking up the pace, knowing the river was his only hope. He’d never get through the forest’s thick undergrowth with the staff lashed in place. As the bots began their work, his legs and arm bloomed blue. He imagined his butt did, too. He found his stride, and his perception took over, each step flowing like before, his legs slowly strengthening. But he was ragged. His mind wasn’t right—dizziness attacking him sporadically.

He came to a long set of rapids, picking his way through, stumbling as tiredness began to take him. The river broadened, giving him some hope his trial might soon be over. He passed through the rapids, the river wide and shallow, fast running, the forest receding.

“At least I don’t have to worry about ducking the branches,” he said, beginning to feel confident he might make it.

Then his heart sank. His intuitive hazard detection exploded, red dots everywhere, all closing in on him.

“What the fuck?” he cried. “It’s in the water! It’s in the damn water!” He sped up, but the river began to froth around him. A tiny prick caused him to stumble. He looked down. A leech hung from his mending calf, burrowing into his flesh. Another leaped from the water, then two more, three, four, a dozen. Josh felt his strength vanish. His willpower faded. This test, this trial, was too much. He stumbled on, barely aware of anything other than the pain, the frustration, the utter helplessness of his situation overwhelming him.

What had Thadius been thinking? This land, this forest, was deadly. What the hell was he doing tying Josh up and making him run the river completely defenseless? Was he insane? Josh stumbled, falling to his knees. The leeches jumped, one attaching to his neck, another to his cheeks. Pure doggedness made him rise. Grim determination made him fight on.

Arabella flitted across his mind’s eye. They were by the river. She smiled at him, top soaked through, breasts plain to see. Then she was back on the imaginary bed, sheets white, her body tanned, hair red, framing her face and shoulders, running around her breasts. He stumbled on. More leeches jumped, biting into his side, his ass, hanging from him every bit of exposed skin and gorging on his blood. He focused on Arabella again, altering his direction and aiming for the riverbank. His mind’s eye wandered over her beautiful naked body, waiting for him. He just needed to get to her so they could be together. He imagined what it would feel like to slide into her, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss.

Then he tripped, falling over, but he didn’t splash into the water or crash into the forest’s mulch. He plunged face down into long grass as his energy fled. He’d made it, but in the end, it made no difference.

His new life was over.

“Josh!” Arabella shook him.

She had a particular smell—an irresistible scent—a mix of perfume and earth. It wasn’t like the sterile fragrances women in his previous life wore, but the heady bouquet of nature. It was like she’d bathed and rubbed fresh flowers all over her. Her voice urged him from the darkness. Her touch pulled him from its void. He was weak, fragile, and had hovered on the verge of death.

But he could move his arms. He wasn’t lashed to Thadius’ staff anymore. “Leeches?” he asked, his voice dribbling out, barely making a sound.

“They are all dead. We think your magic killed them, though we can’t be sure,” Thadius said.

Josh opened his eyes. The old man stood over him while Arabella kneeled by him. He moved his arms, lifting his hand over his eyes. “You fucking nutcase! That river was alive with creatures. A wolf attacked me. Then a bear attacked us both, killed the wolf, and ran off with its corpse.” He took a breath, closing his eyes again. “The leeches. I think they were worse. I couldn’t protect myself.” He heaved at the thought.

“Yes,” said Thadius. “All rather unfortunate. You don’t usually get leeches this early—especially not in numbers. This is worrying. Bears coming from the mountains, too. That’s highly unusual.”

“Well, that’s alright then. Not your fault at all,” Josh said sarcastically.

“On the bright side, you made it. You passed my test. Can you walk? The wagon’s around fifty yards in that direction. We’ll feed you up, then see if you’ve gained any strength. If you have, we could turn around and do it again.” Thadius strolled out of view, chuckling.

“Oh, no! Oh no you don’t!” Josh said, sitting up, wincing, and lying back down again.

“Take no note of him,” Arabella said. “He’s got a strange sense of humor.” She pulled him around. “Are you okay? I thought you were dead when I found you. The blood—there was so much blood.”

“I feel pretty weak,” he admitted. “But you kept me going.”

“I kept you going?”

Josh blushed. “Well, sort of. You don’t want to know.”

She stood, offering him her hand. “Come on. We’ve made a small camp so we can have lunch and you can recover. Put your arm over my shoulder. I’ll help you there.”

“Thanks,” he said. “But I’m filthy again, and I’ve ruined my clothes.”

“I’ve got Dad’s cloak here. He said you might want to wash up.”

Josh grimaced. “Yeah, but I’m not sure I want to go back into that river.”

“It’ll be okay. The leeches frenzied on you. All the blood from your wolf fight probably got them riled. You wash up, and I’ll keep watch.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

He grinned. “I think I trust you more than your dad. He’s got a mean streak.”

She chuckled. “He sees potential in you. He won’t let you rest until you’ve fulfilled it.”

She helped him to the river. It looked so peaceful. The water burbled as it flowed by, reeds lining the bank, and pasture stretching away from the forest. Josh stripped his top off before he turned back to her. “Well?” he asked.

“Well, what?”

“Are you going to watch me, or are you turning away?”

“If you want me to watch out for leeches, I’ve gotta watch you.” She grinned, hands on her hips, her back arched and breasts prominent.

She had a point.

“Besides,” she continued. “Your ass is already hanging out of your pants. So I’ve seen it.”

He stripped, wading into the water, crouching, and washing the crusted blood from him.

“What do you mean I kept you going?” she asked.

Josh’s heart skipped a beat. “Nothing. It was nothing.”

“Don’t do that! It couldn’t have been nothing. You were deadly serious.”

“You sure you want to know?”

“Yes,”

“I imagined you naked, lying on a bed, your legs parted. I imagined what you looked like, and then, when I thought all hope was gone, I pictured what it would be like to fuck you.” He stood, his back to her. “There. You wanted to know.”

He sensed her behind him. “That kept you going?”

He turned, holding his hand out as she offered him the cloak. “It did, Arabella. I know we don’t know each other well, but you’re everything I’ve dreamed of in a woman. The possibility of getting to know you and developing our relationship will keep me going until I’m strong enough to prove myself to you and your father. I have to reach my next level.”

“It just seems so unfair,” she said as he slipped the cloak over himself and climbed the riverbank.

“What does?” He pulled his boots on.

“That I’ve seen you naked, but you’ve only imagined me.”

Dizziness grabbed him, and he fell to his knees, steadying himself. She crouched right by him.

“I think I’m still weak,” he said, breathing shallowly.

“I’ll help you back. We’ll get some stew into you and make you strong again.”

He stood. “You know, I think your dad knows exactly what he’s doing. Has he trained someone before?”

“Once,” she said, pulling him up.

“What happened to him?”

“I’ll let him tell you, but if you ever think he’s too hard on you, then Calico is the reason why.”

“Calico?”

“Calico Rayne—Dad’s apprentice, now the king’s monster slayer.”

“I’ve got a lot to learn about this land,” he said as she helped him back.

“We have the afternoon. Sit in the wagon with me, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“That,” he said, “sounds wonderful.”

Josh wolfed down his broth, then lay down on Thadius’ instruction.

“Wait for it to come,” the old man said.

“What if it doesn’t?”

“After what you endured,” he said, “it will.”

Josh closed his eyes. He sensed no danger around him, so he drifted into semi-consciousness. The fighting had drained him. The leeches had very nearly killed him. But visions of Arabella had pulled him through. The broth filled him, its warmth radiating from his stomach.

His mind’s eye darkened, and the woman’s voice sounded inside him as the luminous text scrolled across his eyes.

Basic attributes deemed inadequate

Basic senses deemed adequate

Working on solutions to enhance existing attributes

Strength–extremely poor

Speed and agility–extremely poor

Durability–extremely poor

Combat instinct - poor

Assessing requirements to protect the host

Upgrading Strength

Strength +2

Upgrading speed and agility

Speed and agility +2

Upgrading Durability

Durability +2

Upgrading Combat instinct

Combat instinct +1

New Score =

Strength = 4

Speed and Agility = 6

Durability = 10

Combat instinct = 7

Average = 6.75

Senses

Basic intuitive hazard detection - passive

Rank = Novice Enforcer

Tier = Bronze Initiate

Title = Bronze Initiate of the Novice Enforcer

Applying changes.

Chapter Nine

JOSH APPRAISED his stats as Arabella and Thadius packed the wagon up. He was over halfway to Iron Apprentice, which was pretty satisfying. While he had no reference to measuring his rate of progress, halfway to his first goal in two days couldn’t be bad. He'd played many games during his previous life, and the ring wasn't too different from the systems used in them. It would get harder to level up—he was sure of that—but he’d get there if he spent a decent amount of time grinding.

However, that was where the similarities ended. He'd never played a game that demanded he nearly die to get a decent sweep of points. There had to be another way—an easier way.

It wasn't too much of a leap to assume the aliens had to train their tech to suit their bodies and fighting style. He couldn't imagine they had to risk their lives every time they wanted a point in durability. So, he could only think there was a specific training method he was missing, but he couldn’t think what.

“Sit in the back with Arabella,” Thadius said. “I shall drive the wagon. You can relax. There'll be no more trouble between here and Elrima. Arabella, you must instruct Josh on as many things as possible. He can’t be completely ignorant of our ways when we arrive in the town.”

Josh didn't need asking twice. He jumped in the wagon, propping himself up and looking back at the forest. Arabella sat beside him, but close, real close, and her hand strayed to his knee as she snuggled in.

“So, what do you want to know?”

“Everything,” he said. “Tell me absolutely everything.”

“I can't tell you everything,” she said. “Narrow it down a little.”

“Start here. What's this place? Elrima is close. Where in the land is it?”

“Okay,” she said as Thadius drove the wagon forward. “Elrima is in the province of Eldorwyn, which Lord Seymour rules. Eldorwyn is in the South of Mythelore. Elrima is about as South as you can get before you hit the Hangsane Mountains. The forest we were traveling through blankets the Hangsane's foothills. The river comes from there, too.”

“Probably why the water was so cold,” Josh said.

“The Hangsane are huge. You'll be able to see them properly from Elrima.” She pointed to the South.

Josh could vaguely make out gray blemishes on the horizon, but they were too large to be mountains. “Those things?” They reached above the sky—somehow meeting it.

“Yes. We have no idea what’s beyond them.”

He wasn’t surprised. They weren’t like mountains. They were like a gray tsunami waiting to break and wash them away.

“So, if Elrima is as far South as you can go, how come you were in the forest? And why is there a trail through it?”

“Elves,” said Arabella. “Dad wanted to visit the elves and see if they knew why there was a sudden increase in monster activity.”

“Ah. You mentioned the elves earlier. I was surprised they were here.”

Arabella looked at him. Her lip curled up. “Of course, we have elves. Don't you?”

“Yes, but I never went to an elven planet. Where I came from, they didn't mix. You left them alone unless you needed something shady done.”

“They’re aloof here. The elves tolerate few humans and rarely mix.”

“Why?”

“It’s hard to know. It’s always been like that. Ask them, and they clam up. It's like they don’t even trust us to understand why. I think a lot of it has to do with the dark times when the old tribes ruled the land—before us—when they founded places like Elrima.”

“But they trust you and your dad?”

“Oh yes,” she said. “He hunted monsters for every race. We don't play favorites.”

“Elves and humans, what other races are there?”

“All sorts, but humans are the largest by far in Mythelore. The others dominate the southeast, but we have yet to travel there. Dad has, but he's never taken me.”

“So Lord Seymour rules Eldorwyn. Who rules him?”

“King Fedor,” she replied with a touch of poorly disguised venom.

“What's he like?” Josh asked, looking across the rolling pasture dotted with stands of trees. Drystone walls divided large squares into fields where flocks of sheep grazed.

“The king? Why?”

He turned. “Because it's his land. If he's a bastard, then all who serve him are. If he's weak, then there's no law. It's the same where I come from. Get a weak captain, and it's chaos on board a ship. Get a bastard, and it's unbearable.”

“Then it's unbearable here.” She glanced at him. “But we're far enough away from Califire not to notice, and Seymour is okay. Probably falls into the first category of weak. What else do you want to know?”

“Monsters—why doesn't the army deal with them? I take it Seymour has an army.”

“He has his precious guards, a small squad of archers, and a bunch of cavalry, but he won't use them against a monster if he can avoid it. Guards are expensive to train and kit out. He gets nothing back if they die, and he has to pay the widow a gold coin if one dies in battle.”

“So he lets them run riot?” Josh imagined giant monsters running through tiny hamlets, scooping up villagers and crushing them in their powerful jaws. For some reason, they all looked like the dinosaurs in one of the games he'd been playing before his world went to shit.

I hope they aren't raptors!

“Each town is part of a smaller borough, and each borough has a sheriff running it. It's up to the sheriff to fight the monster.”

“I take it he has an army.”

Arabella sniffed. “Hardly. He has a gang of thugs that press locals into fighting the beasts. They face them with pitchforks, sharpened hoes, and the odd spear. They usually beat the monster through numbers alone, but the losses are terrible. You'll see them all around Elrima, farmers with one arm, missing legs, all sorts of injuries.”

Josh grunted. “Not quite the paradise I thought it was.”

“Paradise?” Arabella asked.

He snickered. “Well, I met your father and you first. He was kind to me, and you were…” He took a breath. “Fuck it. You were kind and so damn gorgeous. I thought this place might be perfect for me.”

She snuggled in. “It could be. Once you close the door, all that matters is what happens inside its four walls.” She pecked him on the cheek, then drew away, blushing. “What else?”

“What else? Why the kiss?”

“I felt like it. You saved my life, remember?”

“You saved mine, too.”

“Then where’s my kiss?” She held her cheek to him, so Josh returned her kiss, although he wanted much more.

“There, that’s the most pleasure I’ve ever had repaying a debt.”

“And the most fun I’ve had getting paid. So, what else do you need to know?”

He thought hard, but all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and kiss her properly—feel her lush lips on his, revel in her heady scent. To clear his mind, he thought of something mundane. “Money. How does money work?”

“We have gold coins, silver, and copper. Copper and silver coins can be halved and quartered, and you can take a copper quarter and turn it into shavings if you need something smaller. Generally, you'll see nothing but copper in a hamlet or a village. You might get some silver in a big village, but you'll see more in a town. Gold is only ever used in big towns, cities, or some border trading posts.”

“So why did Gort ask you if you had gold?”

“Because I was stupid,” she said. “I wore this dress instead of leggings or a cloak. It marked me as a city dweller, so they thought we were rich.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t think me stupid. I just wanted to get out—get away from the place Mum died. I didn’t think about changing for the wagon trip.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid, and I love the dress. It shows you off in all the right places.”

She blushed. “Thanks.”

“Do you carry money?”

She shrugged. “Dad has some, but he hides it well. You'll never find it if you're looking to rob us.”

Josh's jaw dropped. “I wouldn't do that!”

“How can we be sure? For all we know, you're inching your way in with your flattery and charm.” She grinned, her dimples coming out in all their glory.

“That's the first time someone's ever accused me of flattery. I’ve not chatted to a girl like this in a long while.”

“Why?”

“Because I had someone I loved, but—”

“But?”

“She died,” he said.

“Oh. Sorry. I guess we have that in common.”

“Yes,” he said, forcing her memory away. “It was a long time ago.”

“Then you need to move on. Didn’t you have other lovers to help you through?”

“Others? No, just the one.”

“How strange,” she said. She shifted around, moving his legs apart, sitting between them and facing him. “You don't seem too shy,” she said. “A bit more practice and plenty of girls will be chasing you.”

“Not shy?” He scoffed. “Never said I was shy. More out of practice. We broke the ice rather unusually, which helped me.”

She put her hands on his knees. “Well, we'll have to see what we can do about that. I'll introduce you to a few people I know. You'll like Elowen. She's lovely. A bit of a bookworm—she likes nothing more than a dusty scroll.”

“How long have you known her?”

Arabella fixed her lips in a narrow line. “Her father and Dad used to be partners. Her dad died when a monster they were fighting suddenly rejuvenated. It caught them both by surprise, and Jeremy got an ice shard right through his guts. It froze him instantly. The beast smashed him over the head with its staff and shattered him into a thousand pieces.”

“You're fucking kidding me,” Josh exclaimed. “What kind of monsters do you fight? I imagined huge lizards or dinosaurs.”

“You really want to know? You won't get scared and run away if I tell you.” She smirked at him, the challenge in her beautiful green eyes plain to see.

“No, I’ll be okay. I'm going to fight the biggest, baddest monsters out there,” said Josh.

“Okay, you asked.” She lowered her voice, leaning in and giving Josh an eyeful of cleavage. “Locals called the beast Glacor the Frostweaver. It lived in the tundra to the very north of Mythelore. They say the beast stood fifteen feet tall. Silver scales encased its body, glistening like frost when the sun hit them. Its eyes were the color of sapphires and radiated an intense cold that froze the air around it. The creature's forelegs were elongated, ending in four clawed fingers that held its enchanted staff.”

“It sounds horrific.”

“It gets worse. A long, serpentine tail trailed behind it, adorned with frost-covered spikes, and it had wings that looked like crystal and granted it the ability to glide.”

“I’ve changed my mind. It sounds quite magnificent. Surprisingly so.”

“Some beasts are. Some are such works of art that it's a shame to kill them. Thing is, it wielded great power, and it hated humans. Ice fishermen kept vanishing. A whole village was found dead; their bodies encased in ice. If any strayed too close to its lair, it used its powers against them, summoning blizzards and using frozen ensnarement. The local sheriff sent a militia army after it, but it killed them all, casting a spell called Glacial Nova that formed a pulse of ice magic, creating a shockwave of frigid air and freezing everything in its path. That's when the king put a bounty on its head, so that's when my father and Elowen's became involved.”

“And her father was killed.”

“Yes.” Arabella brushed a tear away from her eye. “Dad moved Elowen and her mother in, but her mother died a few years later. So Dad brought Elowen up as his own. He even paid for her to go to university to study magic, but all she wanted to do was focus on beasts. She's been cataloging them ever since, working out ways to kill them and trying to find out where they come from.”

“What do you mean, where they come from?”

“Well, they appear. We know that much. But think about it. Where do they come from? Take Glacor, for instance. Where could it have come from? It's not like there's a whole tribe of Glacors out there, and it was a child. One day, there was no Glacor; the next, there was. Where did it come from?”

Josh looked up at the clear sky. It was a great question and one his mind demanded an answer for. Like Elowen, he couldn't accept a shrug and a who cares as an answer. Monsters had to come from somewhere.

“We should try and find out.”

Arabella screwed her face up. “I don't care. I'd be happy to kill them and take the bounty. That's the fun part. That's what I'm going to train for.” She furrowed her brow. “You're going to love Elowen if that's what you really want to do.”

“I'm sure she's a lovely girl, but I bet she doesn’t hold a candle to you,” Josh said, then decided to change the subject. “So, is it ten copper to a silver, and so on?”

“What?”

“We were talking about money.”

“Oh, that. Eight copper to silver. Eight silver to gold. Then there's the half and quarters for the copper. A king's tax is one in sixteen, and a lord's tax is the same. The sheriff gets one in eight. So, for everything a villager makes, he loses one quarter in taxes, which the sheriff collects. That's about it as far as money goes.”

“So, how much does a mug of ale cost?”

“In the city, it would be a quarter, but in a big village like Elrima, two shavings, which is an eighth.”

Josh inclined his head. “What's up?”

“Up?”

“You've suddenly lost your shine.”

“We're getting close. I've liked having you to myself. It's been a long time since I've had any fun. My mother was ill for a long while, and I had to spend my time looking after her. It was pretty lonely, and Dad had to go hunting to fund her medicine.”

Josh was quite surprised. He'd imagined them to be quite wealthy. “But if your dad's one of the foremost monster hunters in the kingdom, how come he isn't rich?”

“University fees, Mum's illness, looking after Elowen's mum for a few years. Plus, it's not that well-paying a job. It can take a month to get to the monster and kill it and another month to return home. That's two months for one bounty—six bounties a year. Sometimes, he got lucky and picked up some more work on the way home, but not often.”

“It sounds a bit unfair.”

“Not unfair. Dad doesn't do it for the money. He worries about the villagers—the poor, defenseless people. Besides, Calico takes all the decent bounties. He’s been stealing Dad’s work for years—says Dad’s washed up and has never recovered from Jeremy dying.”

“He was your dad’s apprentice, right?”

“He was, but as soon as he was halfway good, he went behind Dad and made a deal with the king. Now, he’s the king’s monster slayer. If there’s a good bounty to be had, he’ll get wind of it first and be there before anyone.”

“Sounds like a bastard.”

“Oh, he’s a bastard alright—and a letch. I’ve heard he’s claimed kills the locals have done and stolen bounties.” She leaned close. “Some have said he even has his own wizards make up monsters just to get the king to issue a bounty. He then rides in, pretends to kill it, and takes the money.”

“Arabella!” Thadius leaned back. “There’s no proof of that. You should only tell Josh what you know to be true.”

Arabella shot Thadius daggers. “It’s what Mum said. She said you were too forgiving.”

“Calico carved out his own destiny. It is the job of a teacher to teach and let go.”

“But—”

“No buts. Any hardship we face is my fault and not Calico’s.”

“That’s not true!”

“Josh should form his own opinion on who he meets, not have ours pressed on him. Josh, you should disregard all of that. Suffice it to say, we are not welcome in the capital for several reasons, not just Calico. We are misfits.” He laughed. “And I am fine with that. It’s very freeing.”

She frowned. “We're going to have to find a new way. There's nothing left for us in the city now. Mum's dead.”

“If you don't mind me asking. What did she die of?” Josh said, trying to get away from the subject of Calico Rayne.

“She got old, really quick, had trouble breathing, then one day she couldn't get out of bed. After that, I looked after her all the time. She didn't really wake up. We think she got fed up with waiting for Dad to return and worrying about money. Her friends abandoned her to side with he who shall not be blamed. Trouble with Mum was that she liked to live to a certain standard.” She poked her tongue out at Thadius’ turned back.

“Maybe she just got sick,” Josh said, trying to tread a neutral line. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. She got what she wanted. She was older than Dad by quite a few years. You’re right. Perhaps she was just tired of living.”

“Well, hopefully, you can live your life now—wherever you settle.” He reached out and grabbed her hands. “And I hope I can be a part of it.”

She nodded, biting her lip. “I'm gonna meet up with Elowen and see if I can join her or help her or something.”

“Then I shall look forward to meeting her.”

“Like I said, you'll like her a lot.”

“Not as much as you.”

Arabella grinned. “Not as much, the same—it doesn't matter.”

“Why?”

She winked at him. “We share everything.”

Chapter Ten

THADIUS DREW the cart to a halt. “You might want to come up front, Josh. We’re arriving soon. I can point out the sights.”

Josh clambered over and sat in the middle of the bench. Arabella squeezed on the end as Thadius pointed.

“See that pair of hills over there? Past the stockade, left-hand side.”

Josh spotted them easily, even though they were quite distant. His eyesight had definitely improved since he’d put on the ring. It was working wonders on the rest of him, too, and he understood his body a little more with every passing moment. “Yeah.”

“Through there are the ruins of Elrima. Elowen will be able to tell you more, but I can give you an outline. There are ruins dotted throughout Mythelore. Some are what we call henges—simple stone circles. Others are buildings, roads, strange statues, and great structures with no visible doors or windows. The ruins of Elrima are one such place. Unlike most others, there are the remnants of a whole settlement with tombs, temples, shrines, streets, houses—you name it, the ruins have it. Elowen has been here for the better part of a year, cataloging what she can. It was her that first alerted me to the stone colossus.”

“The what?”

“The colossus. It’s not unique—there are other such things, but none as large as Elriman Man. He is a giant, standing around sixty feet tall, made from a stone as black as obsidian. We think he was the guardian of a tribal people who once inhabited this stretch of Mythelore, but we can’t be sure.”

“So, what happened that Elowen asked you to come here?”

Thadius scoffed. “Nothing good. All I know is her note said: ‘Elriman Man moved. Supposed to have killed several villagers.’ That was it. Of course, she wouldn’t put much more in there for fear of it being intercepted by others.”

“Why would anyone intercept the message?”

The old man pursed his lips. “Some people thrive in the chaos a monster brings. Fear is a powerful motivator. Wherever there are monsters, there are protection rackets, potion sellers, and ward makers. You name it, every charlatan in the area springs up selling something or the other. Runes appear on doors. Wreaths hang on porches. It’s good business. Not everyone will be pleased to see us.”

“Or she was scared Calico might get wind of it, get the king to raise a bounty and take it,” Arabella said.

“Arabella! I told you to stop.”

“Have I said anything that isn’t true?”

Thadius sagged. “No, I guess not.”

“I guess there are bastards everywhere,” Josh said, trying to relieve the tension.

“Yes, unfortunately,” Thadius sighed. “Sometimes there are more bastards than good folk. It’s just the way it is. But we do our thing and move on. So, the ruins are through the split in those two hills. If you’ve been looking around and not just staring at Arabella, you’d have seen the Hangsane Mountains.”

“Father, please!”

Thadius chuckled. “Well, did either of you notice they’re more visible from here?”

Josh hadn’t spotted the change, and by the look of it, neither had Arabella. The mountains were a little darker. They sat over the hills, then swept along and behind the forest. Josh could see why he hadn’t noticed them. They were a wish-washy gray but not as transparent as they had been.

“They’re like ghost mountains. Why are they so faint?”

“They are a long way away. Imagine them if they were close up—think how high they’d be. I’ve always wanted to travel to them—even asked the elves if I could arrange safe passage, but they have never ventured there. One day,” Thadius said, with a smack of his lips. “One day.” He drifted off, then jerked and returned. “So, this place and the forest and the ruins are as good as a mark of the edge of Mythelore. Elrima is too big to call a village, but the local sheriff says it’s too small to be a town. So it’s classed as a village by its arbiter, as he has no wish to pay the extra levy associated with a town. He is called Turnic, and he’s the sheriff's brother, so don’t get on his wrong side, even if he’s an asshole to you.”

“Why do they need an arbiter and a sheriff?”

“The arbiter deals with the finance. The sheriff—an asshole called Smeeks is responsible for all the hamlets around the town and collects the taxes. In theory, Turnic then spends the collected taxes on the borough’s upkeep, but you can see from the state of the roads that most goes into his belly.”

“So they’re corrupt?”

Thadius laughed. “Corrupt? No. It’s just how it is—no better or worse than anywhere else. We keep our heads low, do our thing, then get out. Southern towns can be quite lively.”

“How’s Elowen coped? How come she’s safe if it’s so rough and ready?” Josh asked.

Arabella nudged him. “Why? Interested?”

“No, I—” But she grinned, and he realized he’d been baited and swallowed the hook whole.

“Elowen is quite capable,” she said. “She took an archaeology course at the university and is Chartered, so she can go about her business without worrying about The Code. Plus, defense classes are mandatory in that field to protect you from locals, treasure hunters, and adventurers.”

“Sounds lively.” Josh was about to ask what The Code was when Thadius pointed.

“Everywhere has its shady areas. So, Elrima is right in front of us. By now, the lookouts would have spotted us. See the watchtower by the gate, a little in from the palisade? They’ll have alerted Turnic and possibly Smeeks to our arrival. I highly doubt they’ll greet us.”

“Why not?”

“There’s only one tavern, so we’ll have to stay there. Like as not, they’ll be there too, and it’ll save them a trip. I say we get Buttercup stabled, get some food, and rent rooms for the night. We’ll travel to the ruins first thing and meet up with Elowen.”

“Sounds good,” said Arabella. “I could do with a bed.”

Dusk had fallen by the time they made the gates. A surly looking militia saw them through, glancing over the back of the wagon, but no more. He appeared more intent on shutting the gates, locking them, and getting off than worrying about the three of them. Josh’s first impression of Elrima wasn’t favorable. The place stank like an open sewer and didn’t look much better, either.

Inside, a main street crossed a river and led to a distant building. Houses loomed over them like each side of the road wanted to fight the other. Lofty pyres lit the way, and washing hung across the street, flapping in the breeze like odd-shaped flags. An open drain ran the length of the road, ducking under the bridge, and was likely the source of the foul smell. Shouts came from the buildings, chatter, laughter, folks leaning out of open windows staring at them as they passed.

A handful of people walked along the road but took little note of them, barring a glance or furtive look. They passed shops that were shutting up for the night. A blacksmith still banged away at some unfortunate piece of metal, and a cobbler sat on his front porch repairing a set of boots. Elrima was in a terrible state of disrepair—to Josh’s eye. He wondered if he was judging it based on standards from his world—a more advanced place. They crossed the wood bridge, nearing the big building at the road’s end.

“Does everything stop at dusk?” he asked.

“Here? Yes,” Thadius said. “They are very superstitious people. The dark isn’t their friend. It is a time for ghosts, evil spirits, tinkers, and bad fairies. If they think the Elriman Man has woken, you won’t find anyone out once the moon shines. Like I said, we're about as South as you can get. Things are odd here. The elves are close. Folks still think they have magical powers beyond simple forest lore. As I said before, unscrupulous people feed off the vulnerable.”

“It’s got a certain feel about it,” Josh said, surprised his sphere of perception hadn’t turned red the instant they’d passed through the gates. It was like he’d said earlier. Bad boss—bad place. It was a rule he’d always found true, and he’d been to enough places to know when one was sour.

“Yep, about as welcome as dogshit on your boot,” Thadius said.

Josh chuckled. Cursing didn’t suit Thadius. “Is that the tavern?”

“Yep. Always the largest building in the settlement, and in this case, the dead center, too.”

It was a reasonably grand structure and in a good state of repair compared to all the others. Its windows were quarter-glazed, most with yellow light shining out, and a grand set of steps led up to closed double doors. Josh counted three levels before he reached its thatched roof, but a few windows punctured that, too, so he guessed they made full use of their space.

“It looks quite homely,” he said.

“Unfortunately, looks can be deceptive.”

“Well, I don’t care,” said Arabella. “It’s got a bed, and that’s good enough for me.”

Thadius steered Buttercup around the back and into some stables. A lad met them—unhappy-looking fellow until Thadius gave him a couple of copper shavings, then his face cracked a smile, and he agreed to look after the horse, get him fed, watered, and groomed, ready for the morning.

Reaching under the wagon, Thadius pulled a thin box out while Arabella grabbed some bags from under a tarp. Josh took both, as he had nothing to carry, and they made their way in through the back door.

The fog of tobacco smoke hit Josh immediately. It hung on the ceiling like a low cloud. Everywhere he looked, groups of men stopped talking, stared at them, then resumed with more vigor—like they finally had something good to gossip about. When one got up and shouted, “Well, bugger me!” They turned back. A large man dressed in a white shirt and tight pants with long brown hair flowing over his shoulders spread his arms wide and shouted Thadius’ name, bringing an immediate hush to the room.

“If it isn’t Thadius Extrael!” he said, spinning around. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the monster slayer—the man who singlehandedly killed the Boxentrag of Baerick Falls, who silenced the Shreiking Siren, who struck down—”

“Yes, yes, Carl, very nice, but we’re trying to keep a low profile here. I’m not even sure I’m staying. No one’s actually seen this colossus move,”

“You are still famous in these parts,” said Carl, then his eyes fell on Arabella, and he covered his mouth. “Oh my,” he said. “Don’t tell me that’s little Arabella all grown up!”

“It is,” said Thadius. “And this is Josh, her good friend—her very good friend.”

“Josh? Well, Josh, you are one lucky man!”

“I’m not—” Josh made to say, but Arabella grabbed his hand and held it to her chest.

“He is, isn’t he?”

Josh furrowed his brow, but Carl appeared to accept it and continued. “Let me get you a drink. Then I’ll fill you in on all that’s been happening.”

“We were just going to get a room—” Thadius made to say, but Carl cut him off.

“Nonsense, food and drink. I’ll arrange the room. I won’t hear of anything else. So, Josh,” he said, steering them to a table. “Is that the fashion in the city?”

“Is what—”

“Your hair, man. Is it fashionable to have it cut short like that? I don’t think I could do it. I’m too fond of my long hair.”

“Oh, er that.”

“He got into a fight with a bear,” Arabella said. “The creature nearly ripped him to shreds before he killed it. I cut his hair off when I couldn’t get all the blood, hair, and goo out. It was quite horrific. Think I’ve done a good job.”

“A bear? Did you kill a bear? You don’t look like you’ve got it in you. What did you do? Run it through with your sword.”

“He doesn’t have a sword,” Thadius said, sitting. “He needs training. I wonder if you can spare time to instruct them both while we’re here.”

“I thought you weren’t staying.”

“If there’s nothing to stay for, we’ll move on. If there is, and I don’t doubt Elowen’s instincts, then we’ll get the job done.”

“There’s something going on, alright,” Carl whispered. “Calico turned up this morning. Brought his whole troop—grand marquees, the lot, all set up near the ruins. Something’s up, Thadius. You showing up too isn’t going to settle the locals, either.”

“Calico’s here?” Thadius spat. “How did he get wind of it?”

Carl shrugged. “Rumor is, he’s already sent for a king’s commission. They reckon he’ll get it, too.”

“Why?”

Carl grinned. “Really? You know he’s got the king in his pockets. Can charm the birds out of the trees, that one. Make sure Arabella’s nailed down. You don’t want him staking a claim there.”

“It’s the type of shit he’d pull,” Thadius whispered back, Josh just catching what he’d said.

“What is?” Josh asked, but Thadius indicated Arabella, who seemed oblivious to the whispered conversation as she stood and tried to grab a barmaid’s attention.

Carl turned back to Josh. “Didn’t use a sword? How did you kill it then? A spear? Must have been a mighty strike.” He winked at Josh, having changed the subject.

“I punched it,” said Josh. “Punched it right in the face and knocked it out.”

Carl’s jaw dropped, then he laughed and began pointing. “Punched it! One punched a bear—that’s funny. That’s hilarious.” He clapped his hands as Arabella finally had a serving girl come over. “Ale and broth, girl!” Carl shouted. “Ale and broth for my friends!”

“Calico is here,” Josh told Arabella.

“What? No! Dad?”

“We will go about our business as if he wasn’t,” Thadius said. “If he takes the commission, we will leave.”

“Empty-handed?” Arabella said. “Who’ll pay for our expenses?”

Carl waited until the serving woman left, then leaned across the table. “There’s a couple of other things you need to know. A few adventurers are up by the ruins. There are rumors going around that one has a map detailing a new burial chamber. It’s got everyone on edge. Smeeks wants his cut of any treasure. The adventurers want to spirit it away and pay no taxes. Elowen is advising them against disturbing any of the ruins, but she’s got no authority. Then there’s the witch—she’s come out of the forest and made merry hell for everyone—throwing curses around like a farmer sowing seed. Things are bubbling up. Then the rumors started that Elriman Man had strolled into town and taken a few folks. One of the adventurers vanished. A farmer's house was flattened with all his family inside. Then, two of Smeek’s henchmen went missing. It’s got everyone on edge—the whole place. One spark, and it’ll all go up. So. My advice—Calico or no Calico—tread carefully. Not everyone wants the mystery of the ruins solved, Turnic especially. He profits off the adventurers and weirdos that visit the place.”

“People die all the time,” Thadius said, his tone measured. “It doesn’t mean a sixty-foot stone colossus has marched into town and crushed them.”

“Aye,” said an old, rasping voice.

Josh looked up to see a scruffy old man bent over a stick, his hair surrounding him like a curtain, a pipe hanging from his mouth, its stem sitting in a gap in his teeth.

“Aye,” he said again. “Thing is, no one has seen it move, but it's a good ten feet away from where it used to be. Explain that.”

Chapter Eleven

CARL JUMPED UP. “Get the fuck out of here, Froggat. Go peddle your lies somewhere else and leave these folks to eat their meals!”

Froggat scowled. “You can try and hide the truth, but the end is coming! The devil has woken!” He tugged Josh’s cloak. “Beware, you are in terrible danger!” Then he leaned low and whispered for Josh’s ears only, “Meet me at the bridge this time tomorrow, and I will show you proof! Come alone, or I’m dust!”

Carl rounded the table. “Get out of here before you feel the back of my hand!”

Froggat scurried off, crashing into another table, only to be pushed away and sent careening through the bar. Carl sat back down. “Place is full of weirdos. They come out of the woodwork at the first mention of something strange. We’ve got the lot here now. Crazy, the lot of them. Isn’t like anything’s changed around here.”

“But,” said Thadius, his voice quiet. “It isn’t beyond the realms of possibility that with all this new activity around the ruins, someone might have disturbed something?”

Carl inclined his head. “Anything’s possible, but most things aren’t probable. Take the couple down the street that the stone colossus just happened to kill. Found in an alley, they were, windpipes crushed.”

“Like a great stone creature would,” Arabella pointed out.

“Indeed, if its hands weren’t the size of half your body. No, there’s something else going on here.”

“But,” said Thadius. “Has the colossus moved or not? If it has, we are looking at more than one mystery here.” He ate a spoonful of stew, munching slowly while he considered it all. “I think we will stay a few days and see if Calico gets the commission. It will be good for Arabella to catch up with Elowen and for Josh to acquaint himself with the South. He will find it interesting—it’s anything but dull, after all.”

The bar quietened as a man walked in with two larger ones a little behind him. Josh immediately recognized them as bodyguards, although the man didn’t look like he needed any protection from anyone. He had the look of a killer—jet-black shoulder-length hair, a sharp face with a scar running from his forehead to the corner of his lip that lent him a seasoned look. He held himself well. His movements were economical, the mark of a competent fighter, and the sword hanging from his hip was polished, the grip looking new or well-maintained.

“Smeeks,” Carl whispered.

When Thadius had first described Smeeks and the arbiter, Turnic, for some reason, Josh had imagined cowardly, rat-like men, drunks, and letches with questionable hygiene and zero morals. But this man looked capable, assured, and commanded respect. He stood with his back to everyone, gloved hands spread on the counter. The bar fell silent, not a sound coming from anyone—no furtive whispers, no awkward fidgeting.

“Two of my men have gone missing,” Smeeks said, his voice assured, carrying it to the back of the room without the need to raise it. “Now, while I’m as superstitious as the next man, I don’t believe that stone monstrosity spirited them away. So—” He turned. “I’ll ask this once and only say something if you’ve got something to say. Has anyone seen my men? You all know my cousin, Krill. You all know he was no saint, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss him. Anyone seen him?”

No one said a word. Josh wondered at the theatrics, but when Smeeks’ gaze fell on him, he looked into the eyes of a cold-blooded killer.

“Or his companion, Gort. Come on! If you know Gort, he’s hardly easy to miss. The man’s a mountain.”

Josh froze at the mention of Gort. He knew exactly where the bandit’s body was because he’d dragged it there. Arabella squeezed his knee, biting her bottom lip. When Thadius stood, Josh’s heart stopped beating.

“We traveled in from the Elven Road,” Thadius said, his voice even and tone calm. “There were signs of a struggle—blood spots on the road, the mud all scuffed—bootprints everywhere.”

Smeeks walked toward them, a path opening before him as folks shuffled out of the way. “A scuffle? Where?”

“A day away—by wagon—probably just under. We came across it early morning. I guessed it must have happened the day before—perhaps the night.”

Smeeks faced Thadius, his hand on his sword’s hilt. “That it? Just a few blood spots?”

“Did one of them wield a steel sword?” Thadius asked.

“Gort did.”

“There was one in the road, just lying there. It’s in the back of our wagon.”

Smeeks took his gloves off, carefully tucking them in his belt like he was in no hurry to say his following words. He clicked his fingers and indicated the door. One of the goons left.

“Just lying in the road,” he said, inspecting his immaculate fingernails.

Thadius shrugged. “You want me to make something more believable up? I thought you wanted the truth.”

“What business did you have up the Elven Road?”

“My business. My name is Thadius Extrael—”

“The beast hunter?”

“The very same. I occasionally help the elves with their problems. Thus, I traveled the Elven Road.”

“The Elven Road.” His gaze fell on Arabella. “And who might this delight be?” He lifted her hand to his lips. “Enchanted.”

“She is my daughter, Arabella, and the other man is her betrothed, Josh Underwood.”

He straightened, letting Arabella’s hand go. “An Underwood? What’s an Underwood doing this far South?”

At a loss for what to say, Josh chose to play it cagily. “Accompanying my girl on a trip with her father. Nothing else.”

Smeeks stared at him momentarily, then returned his focus to Thadius. “I take it you’ve come to look into the colossus.”

“I have.”

“Then I shall do you the courtesy of escorting you there personally. After all, a king’s friend is my friend.”

“That won’t be necessary, and it’s been a long time since I could boast to the king as a friend. I find I lean more toward the term Independent Contractor now.”

“And why would the king dispatch two contractors to kill one monster?”

“I was with the elves, remember?” Thadius said. “I do not monitor Calico’s movements.”

“But there is some tension there because he specifically asked me to inform him if you showed up. Perhaps I need to protect you against him?”

“Again, I need no protection. I’ve fought worse monsters.”

“That’s as may be, but I’ll not have any accident happen to the great Thadius Extrael when he’s in my village. Shall we say two hours after sunup, by the bridge?”

“If you insist, then your offer is most courteous.”

“Boss,” said the goon, returning. “It’s Gort’s sword, all right.” He held up the sword.

Smeeks turned back to Thadius. “Two hours after sunup. Don’t be late. My lady,”—he bowed—”I hope you will join us. You too, Underwood. No trouble while you’re here. Do we understand each other?”

Josh had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to be understanding. “We do,” he said.

Smeek’s gaze lingered on Josh before he backed away and left.

Carl closed his eyes, exhaling. “What the hell was that all about?”

“Our entrance didn’t go unnoticed, and Calico will know soon. It doesn’t suit a sheriff to fall out with the king. I shall go sort our rooms out. We’ve had a busy day and must be up and about early.”

“Let me,” said Carl. “How many rooms?”

“Two,” said Thadius. “I’ll have one overlooking the back if possible. What would you two like?”

Josh said nothing. He couldn’t quite believe Thadius was suggesting he share a room with Arabella. Not that he minded—quite the opposite.

“I’d like an attic room if there’s one available,” Arabella said. “It’s further away from the stink.”

Josh couldn’t fault her logic, but he was still reeling from Smeeks talking to him like he was some kind of peer and Thadius letting him share a room with Arabella. Carl left, making his way to the counter.

Thadius leaned in. “We have a problem,” he said. “Josh, I need you to think back. Did you pull the arrow from Gort’s head?”

“No. Why would I?”

“Because arrows cost money, and it would have been easy to pull it through his skull. But it’s not the coin I’m worried about. If Smeeks finds the body, he finds the arrow. That might link the body to Arabella. What fletchings are you using?”

Arabella furrowed her brow. “Nothing special, though I always pick the bright ones. I can’t remember which one I used.”

Thadius drank some of his ale. “I’m probably worrying about nothing. Gort’s body is almost certainly long gone. Scavengers aren’t known for their patience. Even if they find the arrow, it’ll be coated in mush by the time Smeeks gets it. Now, you two, I’ve introduced you as betrothed. Best start acting like it, but remember, Josh, there’s a line, and I’ll know if you cross it.”

“Yes, sir,” said Josh. “You can trust me. But why betrothed?”

“Because if men like Smeeks or Calico decide to pursue her, I’ll have had a hard time stopping them. This way, she’s taken, and if this land has retained anything good, it’s The Code.”

“The Code,” he repeated, without the foggiest notion of what it was.

“Good. And this Underwood thing—it worries me. Something rings a distant bell. It’s certainly not a common surname, but it instilled a measure of fear in Smeeks, and fear didn’t look like an emotion he was used to displaying. I’ll make some quiet inquiries.”

“Does it mean I’m Arabella Underwood?” she asked him as they settled into their bedroom.

Josh avoided her gaze, feeling nervous. He’d not been alone in a room with a woman for an age—even discounting the time in the pod. He walked to the window, lifting it and letting some air in. The room was quite large, and they’d climbed a ladder to get to it. Arabella lowered the hatch, setting the candle down and jumping onto the bed.

“I mean, if we’re betrothed and all, then I would be an Underwood, but somehow, Extrael still seems more adventurous.”

“It does,” he admitted. “It’s a little more swashbuckling.”

“What’s that mean?”

Josh ignored the question. “I wonder what’s so special about being an Underwood?”

“Probably some big family—a rival to Smeeks. There are the royal families—the Lords and Ladies and that. Then there are the ones just under. They’re the ones that really rule the land. They move things around, control the roads, collect the taxes, hoard food when it’s scarce, then sell it for inflated prices—that sort of stuff.”

“A criminal underworld,” Josh said, looking over the village. It was peaceful. The moon spread its light over the thatched roofs, the river glinting as it flowed between them. “Probably a rival family to Smeeks. Fantastic. I’ve got to act the hard man now.”

“You are a hard man,” Arabella said. “You one-punched that man—”

“Krill,” Josh said.

“Yeah, Krill. You one-punched him and weren’t even as strong as you are now.”

“I suppose. Trouble is, I know nothing about this family and have a feeling he knows more than me.”

“Well, I’m not tired, and we have the room—” She paused. “What arrangement have you got with my dad?”

“Arrangement?”

“He said not to forget your arrangement.”

“Ah, erm, that?” He walked over, sat, removed his boots, and swung his feet onto the bed. “He made me promise not to try anything on with you until I’d upgraded my rank to Iron Apprentice.”

“Your rank?”

“The ring,” he said. “Don’t you remember? I’m a Bronze Initiate at the moment, halfway to Iron Apprentice—over halfway, actually.”

Arabella flipped her boots off, pulled her pants down, and slipped into bed. “Fancy promising Dad that!” She chuckled. “Mind you—he made me promise too. Still, that was before he decided we were betrothed. You coming in?”

“I dunno. I kind of feel like I owe your dad so much that if I betray him, it screws all that up.”

“Well, you can stay in that itchy cloak all night or come in here with me. There’s other stuff we can do.” She reached over to him. “I’m not sleepy.”

Josh didn’t need asking twice. He jumped off the bed, pulled his cloak off, and slipped between the blankets. “Man, that feels better. It started up again once you reminded me how itchy it was.”

Arabella fumbled under the covers and then held her underwear up. She pulled her top off and snuggled into him. “That’s better.”

Her body was so warm, her skin so soft. Josh hardened straight away, all his blood racing to his groin. He pulled her close, dipping his head to hers and kissing her. Her lips slid over his, warm, moist, a delight. His breath became shallow as his heart raced. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first moment I met you,” he said.

“Then kiss me properly,” she said, her words drifting between them as their lips parted in between soft kisses.

He pressed harder, his tongue meeting hers, their tips touching, gently probing, then sliding along and around each other. Shifting around, he pressed his cock against her groin. The pressure returned, the warmth of her pussy on him. She reached down, pushing him away, feeling for his dick. “We can still do stuff,” she whispered, then slipped away under the sheets. “Well, I’m not disappointed,” she said. “The ring enhancing this, too?”

Josh grinned, stroking her hair as she rested her head on his belly. His nerves vanished, and a warm feeling of contentment ran through him.

Have I finally moved on?

“Enhancing it? Not that I know of. But I hear it doubles in size when I become an Iron Apprentice.”

“I hope not. It’d never fit.”

She grasped his shaft, slowly pulling up until she reached his tip, then down again, up and down until he held his breath.

“Like that?” she said. “You like it like that?”

“Oh, yes, baby. Just like that. Just like that.”

She quickened her stroke, cupping his balls with her other hand. “I like pulling you off.”

He pushed the covers down, fishing them off with his feet, looking down at her head, so close, so close to him. “And I like you doing it.”

“Good,” she purred, then shifted her head a little lower.

Josh bit his lip when her tongue licked at his tip, flicking gently over the top, probing his slit. “Oh, God, baby. Just like that. Do it just like that.”

She shortened her stroke, just massaging his shaft. “How about like this?” she asked and then took his crown in her mouth, her tongue swirling around it.

“Oh, yeah! Like that, too. Just like that, too!”

Arabella shifted around, kneeling between his legs, her head bobbing up and down, hand pumping him hard. He grabbed her hair, gritting his teeth as wave after wave of pleasure ripped through him. “Fuck me!” he cried, forcing her head down, lifting his buttocks as he tried to slide more of him into her mouth. “Just like that, baby. Just like that!”

His cum welled, balls straining to unleash their load. Two hundred years without satisfaction. Two hundred goddamn years, and here he was getting sucked off by a gorgeous babe. His balls swelled more and more, tubes filling, cum gathering. Her head plunged deeper and deeper, his knob rubbing the back of her throat.

It was too much for him—way too much. Years of neglect about to surge from his balls, the final release euphorically on a razor-thin edge.

“I’m going to cum, baby. I’m going to cum in your mouth!”

His words spurred her to even greater speed, tipping him over the edge, sending him to new heights of pleasure as he cried out, “Drink it, baby, drink my cum!” and spewed a torrent of cum straight into her mouth.

She slowed, the pleasure too much for him, then she looked up, his cock still in her mouth, and she grinned, letting it flop from her mouth, skin raked by her lips. “Was that good, baby?”

“So good,” he said. “Your turn next.”

Arabella lay on the bed, and Josh witnessed her perfect, naked body for the first time. He parted her legs and dipped his head.

“Your turn, baby.”

Chapter Twelve

“YOU NEARLY DROWNED ME LAST NIGHT,” she said, rising from under the covers. “That was more like it.” She wiped her mouth and kissed him. “Good morning, by the way.”

“That was the best way to wake up ever,” he said. “The only way I ever want to wake up from now on in. I had meant to ask, when we get to have sex, is there any protection so you don’t get pregnant until we want to?”

“A girl’s got to have her breakfast,” she replied. “But I can’t promise I’ll wake up before you every day. As far as getting pregnant, a woman only has a chance to get pregnant when both the man and woman have agreed that they want to make a baby.” She slipped out of bed, leaning on the windowsill and looking over the village.

She had a perfect hourglass figure with a full butt, curves in all the right places. Josh hardened again just looking at her, but her next words soon robbed him of his budding erection.

“What do you think Smeeks wants with us?”

He’d forgotten about Smeeks, but all his memories tumbled back.

“He wants to keep us close while his goons search the forest. That way, if he even suspects us of being involved in their deaths, he’s got us right where he wants us.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Not like we’ve got a choice. I think Dad wanted us to stay at the ruins, but he’ll probably change his mind if Calico’s there.” She turned, her perfect breasts and lush pussy fattening Josh’s cock again. “I’d rather stay here. At least we get the room to ourselves.”

“Me too.” He pulled the covers off himself. “But what I really want to do is get to Iron Apprentice as soon as possible.”

“Why? Want to see if it doubles in size?”

“You know why,” Josh said and took her in his arms. “We’ll have more nights like last night soon.”

She looked into his eyes. “I hope so. I know we’ve only known each other for a few days, but it feels like it’s been much longer.”

He kissed her. “Yeah, me too. Let’s make it real. Will you marry me when I make Iron Apprentice?”

She pulled him to her and smashed her lips against his for an answer.

After a few moments, she broke it off and smirked. “Hell, yes, and you’re going to get to Iron Apprentice as fast as you can.”

“You better believe it. I want to get more powerful for more than just that. I don’t want you to have to worry about your safety.” He lowered his voice. “The Legendary Josh Underwood won’t let any harm come to you!”

“One day,” she said. “One day, you might be famous. We could travel from town to town slaying monsters and staying in taverns. We could see all the land, not just stay in one crummy village.”

“That,” Josh said, “actually sounds like a lot of fun. Even get some decent wagons we can sleep in. Do they have those?”

“The traders do—they call them caravans.”

“We could do that. Caravan monster slayers—or something like that. How does that sound?”

“Sounds great. Elowen would have to come. She could research the monsters, and we could kill them.”

Josh sat back on the bed. “What else would we need?”

“A sorceress—we’d need spells to counter the magical ones.”

“So, me, you, Elowen, and a magician.”

Arabella giggled. “Sounds exciting.”

A thought struck Josh—something he’d forgotten. “What’s The Code—your father mentioned it. He said as long as we were seen as betrothed, The Code’d protect you.”

“That? It's one of the fundamental laws of Mythelore. If a man picks a woman to be his bride and she picks him back, she is soulbound to him, and no other man can possess her. Same goes if he has two, three, or four.”

“Two, three or four what?”

“Wives, of course. It’s natural for women to share a powerful man. After all, he can have more children with more women and build a powerful dynasty. A woman can only be pregnant once a year, while a man can get as many women as he wants pregnant.”

“So you’d be comfortable sharing me?”

She slapped him. “Why wouldn’t I? I already told you I share everything with Elowen. Why would you be any different? Wasn’t it like that where you came from?”

“No, nothing like that. I had one girlfriend,” he replied. “A lot of people didn’t even have that.”

She fell into his arms. “You have me, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“And I’m in no hurry for you to share me with anyone. I think I’m happy where I am.”

She slapped him again, then pulled her pants and top on. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You’ll come around to the idea. It’s natural. The most powerful get the girls. That’s why Dad wants to see you at Iron before he sanctions our relationship. You get to Iron, and you can go further because you have the application.” She put her hands on her hips. “What’s after Iron, anyway?”

Josh looked it up. “There’s Steel Adept, then Silver Vanguard, but it’ll be an age before I get there. After that is Golden Defender. But that’s not the end. I’m a Bronze Initiate, Novice Enforcer. Once I get to Golden Defender, Novice Enforcer, there are more levels. I can’t see them yet, but I know they’re there.”

“Golden Defender,” she said, swooning. “I wonder how big a Golden Defender’s dick is!”

Josh pushed her onto the bed, holding himself over her. “Too big for a mortal like you,” he said, kissing her.

“We have a problem,” Thadius said as they sat at the breakfast table. “Are you sure you packed your quiver?”

“Positive. I always stash it next to the bags. I’m sure it was there when I retrieved them. No, I’m positive. It was there when we left the wagon.”

“Well, it’s not there now, so either someone stole it or Smeeks has it. We need to be on our guard at all times. We’ll lean on Josh’s imaginary family connections if worse comes to worse. I’m not going to run to Calico for help. No, the Underwood thing worried him. It should give us breathing space.”

Carl came into the bar, sitting with them as the barmaid served a breakfast of meat and eggs, bread and ale. “Two of Smeeks’ men set out for the Elven Road at first light. They won’t be back until late afternoon, probably dusk. I suggest you’re gone by then if you've got anything to hide.”

Thadius looked up, surprise etched on his face. “What would I have to hide? The sword was there, plain as day, planted in the middle of the trail. I saw it as some kind of do not pass and assumed Turnic or Smeeks had upset someone. The elves mentioned nothing about any trouble, so I discounted them.”

“Elves? No, we’ve had no trouble with the elves.”

Thadius raised his hands. “Then I am at a loss. I can see there are some disaffected factions here, but I have no idea who’s good and bad. What were Gort and Krill like?”

Carl’s gaze lingered on Thadius. “Both thugs—probably up to no good.”

“Then you have your answer. Whenever there are monsters or unexplained creatures around, folk settle scores. It’s the same all over Mythelore.”

“Perhaps,” said Carl. “But Smeeks isn’t going to let it rest. I can guarantee that.” He tapped the table and rose. “I’ll sniff around, see if I can find out if anyone knows anything.”

Thadius watched him go.

“I thought Carl was on our side?” Arabella asked.

Thadius creased his eyes. “He is, was, could be. We know Elowen is with us. The rest? Not likely. Let’s wait and see what she says. Smeeks has this town under his thumb. Carl would be a fool to be against him, but there are degrees of loyalty. Equally, I doubt Carl would want to fall out with Calico. No, of all three, we are the least desirable as friends.”

“Have you any idea who this Underwood family is?” Josh asked. “Only a few probing questions, and it’s going to be obvious I have no clue about my family.”

“No, nothing has come to me, and I can’t ask anyone either. You’ll just have to feel your way through any questions. Be as vague as possible.”

“I’ll keep as far away from Smeeks as I can.”

“Exactly. Play the love-lorn couple. That should keep you out of trouble.”

Thadius drove the wagon to the bridge. Smeeks was alone, a clear sign that he was untouchable as far as he was concerned.

“Good morning, all,” he said. “I hope you had a good night’s sleep. It’s a fine, fine day.” He leaned forward, patting his mount. “Thadius, I’d like to thank you for your valuable information last night. I have dispatched my two most loyal men to scour the scene, though I feel the scavengers would have feasted on their corpses by now.” He smacked his lips together. “No great loss, if I’m honest. Gort was a brute who caused more trouble for me than harvested revenue, and Krill, well, what to say about him? He lived in a fool’s shadow, so what does that make him?”

“Then why bother looking into it?” Thadius asked.

“Our friend Underwood knows, don’t you?”

Fortunately, Josh knew exactly what Smeeks expected him to say. The gangster’s playbook was the same everywhere.

“Can’t leave a slight unanswered,” he said. “No matter how advantageous.”

“Precisely!” He steered his horse and coaxed it over the bridge. “Best get to the ruins. The morning won’t last forever, and you don’t want that pompous ass, Calico, beating you to any fantastic discovery.”

Thadius followed, keeping enough distance for Josh to feel a little more comfortable. He checked his numbers, reassuring himself that he was powerful—just in case it would come to a fight. He wasn’t questioning his bravery. He’d jumped in without any weapons when he thought Arabella and Thadius were in trouble, and he forced himself along the river despite his fears. He’d stand up to Smeeks if needed. There was no problem with that, but Smeeks had to provoke him. Josh needed his anger for the ring’s power to kick in.

They rode to the twin hills, passing through them. Smeeks paused at the end of the narrow ravine, waiting for them to catch up. “Stunning, isn’t it?”

The ruins spread out before them. Josh hadn’t known quite what to expect, but he’d certainly not anticipated the scale of the city nor the size of the colossus that dominated all. It drew his eye, standing centrally, sixty, seventy feet high, an overbearing, threatening guardian. Its stone was as black as ink, absorbing any light that hit it like a great shadow standing guard over the ruins.

It wasn’t intricately detailed—more brutal in design. Each cut was angular, reminding Josh of a fully clad and armored space ranger. Its legs were slightly parted, hands by its side, with a grim expression on its face. The thought of it striding through the village was too much for Josh—there was no way such a vast mass of stone could march through it without destroying it.

The ruins spread before the colossus, poking through cropped meadow grass. Some were small rock foundations of sun-bleached stone. There were building corners still intact and pillars in long ranks, some with their arches intact, others with rubble piles spread in between. A huge, raised dais sat around halfway into the ruins, and more statues, some upright, others laying, littered the place. But while the scale stunned him, he was amazed by the ordinariness of it all. Sheep grazed between the ruins. Tents were dotted around, and there was even a stall selling food and drinks. Then, there was a square of brightly colored marquees, folk dressed in pomp milling around, horses corralled, and fires blazing. It was so clearly Calico’s camp that it only warranted a sneer, not a mention.

“How come there’re so many people here?” Josh asked, catching Smeeks’ attention.

“Adventurers. Don’t like them,” he said. “They give little back. Don’t buy much in town. Try and sneak their bounty out. They’re all-round leeches. Then there are the archaeologists, who’re as much of a pain but for different reasons. Kick up all manner of a fuss if you take the stone. Keep moaning about heritage and the like. I don’t get it—don’t get it at all. The dead are dead, and some folk that are alive, you want dead. Then there is Calico, who comes here demanding his boots licked, gold made available, horse feed. Everything has to be free by king’s decree.”

“Then why don’t you kick them all out? It’s your town.” Josh said.

Smeeks grunted. “Spoken like a true Underwood. I don’t kick them out because as much as I moan, the potion sellers, crafters, even the fortune tellers and whack-jobs do contribute. Plus, all of it brings trade to the area.” He harumphed. “Much as I hate to say it, Elrima hasn’t got much going for it without the ruins. Taxes are down. Seymour is unhappy. This place needs something. Perhaps that bloody great stone monstrosity might do it. Whatever happens, you and Calico won’t help us.”

“Has it moved?”

Smeeks shrugged. “Dunno. I take no notice of the conspiracy theorists. Tell me, how’s your father?”

Josh sat back. He was ready for the question. “Don’t speak to him,” he said, pulling his hood up.

“Oh, so you’re that one!” he said. “The wandering son.” He pulled his mount around to face Thadius. “Well, I’ve got work to do, Thadius, and I’m sure you want to see if you’ve got anything to kill.” Smeeks rode off.

“What do you make of that, then?” Arabella asked.

“Not sure,” said Thadius. “He was too honest. Trying to put us at ease. I don’t trust him—don’t trust him at all.”

“He never mentioned the witch,” Josh said. “Carl made a point of talking about her, but Smeeks never mentioned her.”

“So?” Arabella asked.

“So, if she’s that much of a pain in the ass, why didn’t he?”

“I think that’s Elowen’s tent,” Thadius said, pointing to a large, square tent near the middle of the ruins. “Let’s see if we can’t get to the bottom of all this.”

He steered toward the makeshift road running through the center of the ruins. A potion seller reached up at Arabella. “Wards off evil spirits, sprites, and fairies. Only a quarter.” Another came up to Thadius’ side. “Scroll of Dispel. Cancels any spell the witch hexes you with.” More crowded around. “Lucky rabbit’s foot!” “Bottled curse repellent!” “Evil Eye of Questing! Let’s you see in the dark for a night!”

After the quiet of the forest and the relative peace in town, the rabble bullied and cajoled them all the way to Elowen’s tent. When it became apparent that was their destination, they all drifted away, clearly discouraged by their association with the archaeologist.

Arabella jumped off the cart, vanishing into the tent to squeals and high-pitched cries.

“I hope you’re ready for this,” Thadius said.

“I think I can handle two girls pleased to see each other,” he replied.

“I admire your optimism. You handled Smeeks well, though.” Thadius hopped off the wagon. “I take it our agreement is still in place. I know how loveable my Arabella is.”

“It is. She explained all about The Code and how things work around here. I’ll get strong, as strong as I can, even if I have to fight wolves.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” He offered his hand out. “After you.”

Josh entered the tent. Arabella rushed toward him, dragging him forward. “Josh, this is Elowen. Elowen, meet Josh.”

Elowen stood quite still, holding her hands in front of her. She had straight brown hair, a beautiful smile, and large blue eyes. She wore a cloak that stopped above her knees and had its sleeves cut short. A pair of glasses perched on the end of her nose made her look cute in an academic way.

His heart skipped a beat. “Arabella was right,” he said.

“About what?” Elowen asked.

“She told me you were absolutely gorgeous.”

Chapter Thirteen

ELOWEN BLUSHED, backing away as Thadius walked in carrying his strange box. “Ah. Elowen, I see you’ve met Josh.”

“I have,” she said, still appraising him.

“He’s quite unique. Look, we’ve much to discuss and no time for pleasantries. I know you prefer direct and to the point, so here goes. Can you clear whatever you had planned for the day and lend us your analytical skills? I understand it’s short notice, but sometimes a backward step—”

“Makes moving forward easier,” Elowen said. “I can, Thadius. I heard you got in last night, so I assumed you’d want a full appraisal today. I have food and drink enough for the day.” She grinned. “It’ll be just like old times when we used to pull all-nighters.”

Her voice was short, and she clipped her words efficiently, enunciating each perfectly. Elowen led them to a table with four settings. Each had a pencil, some paper, and an empty mug. A pitcher of white ale sat in the center by a fruit bowl. “I have readied for a brainstorming session. Shall I begin?”

Thadius sat at the table, waiting until everyone had joined him. “No, let me. I want to focus on something other than the colossus to begin with. I want to focus on Josh.”

Elowen regarded Josh. “Okay,” she said, spinning her pencil between her thumb and forefinger. “What about him?”

“Josh is a stranger to this land. Let me make this quite clear. We’ve only known him for a few days. He selflessly came to our aid when two of Smeeks’ thugs attacked us. He killed one, while Arabella shot the other. I trust him. Arabella trusts him, too, and they appear to have genuine feelings for each other. So, I want you to trust him, but understand you will keep your judgment open. He’s told us a story. While it isn’t the whole truth, I believe it is rooted in the truth. So, I’ll get to the meat of it. He comes from another land.” Thadius sat back, waiting for Elowen’s judgment.

She regarded Josh again, seemingly unphased by the revelation. “If he hasn’t told us the whole truth, then I suggest we begin with that. I’ll not accept half-truths, nor should Arabella if she really does have feelings for him. Josh, the truth now, or I’ll veto your involvement in anything further.” She poured herself an ale, her gaze unwavering.

“You won’t believe it,” he said, pouring himself an ale and matching her gaze.

“Try me. I research unexplainable phenomena every day. I’m used to strange stories.”

All eyes returned to Josh. Relief washed through him. He was on the spot, but he wanted to tell them everything. He didn’t want his relationship with Arabella to be based on anything but the truth. “Okay, so the story I told you was as close to the truth as I thought you could understand. Perhaps that was discourteous of me, but you have to remember that I was new to the land and had no clue what you would and wouldn’t understand. I’ll not apologize for skirting the exact truth. Things began happening very fast, and I’ll be honest, I wanted to tell Arabella everything as soon as I became infatuated with her. But I didn’t exactly lie.” He paused, then delivered his truth. “The place I come from is far more advanced than this one. We aren’t tied to our home planet anymore, but roam space, going from star system to star system in giant ships, bigger than Elrima, probably a hundred times bigger.”

“Okay, a few points,” Elowen said, her pencil primed. “What is space?”

“The air between the stars.”

“And the star systems?”

“That, erm, let me think.” He sipped some ale. “Mythelore is a land, and that land is on a planet. A planet is like a spinning orb that circles a sun. The sun is a star, just like the ones you see in the sky. I travel between suns in spaceships. That is how advanced my people are.”

“Can we go back in time and ask for a slightly dumbed-down version of this?” Thadius asked.

“You wanted the truth, and I wanted to tell you.”

Thadius waved him down. “No, no, I was only joking. I might have nightmares about how insignificant I am, but that’s fine. Continue.”

“So, just because we’re advanced, it doesn’t mean we’re free of the curse of war. Humans have spread throughout the stars, visiting other planets, sometimes settling, sometimes taking what we want and moving on. But there are other advanced races, and one of those we call the Grillons. They slaughter our soldiers at every battle and push us back on all fronts. They are the perfect war machines. Their soldiers are deadly, winning every fight, whether on a grand scale or one-to-one.” He held up his finger. “This was rumored to be the reason. The ring turned them into fighting machines. I was on a space slugger trawling for scrap when we came across our greatest ship. It was in half, almost destroyed. I boarded, and that’s how I got the ring. That’s how I got their tech.”

Elowen held her hand up. “Okay, a couple of things. Slugger?”

“A ship that looks out for scrap—discarded stuff you can use again.”

“Tech?”

“Techne,” Thadius answered in Josh’s stead.

“Machine?”

“Ah, that. That would be difficult, but say for the purposes of this explanation, it is like a wagon, but it doesn’t need a horse or donkey to move it, or like a bow, but you don’t need to draw a string to fire it. We have a thing called electricity that powers stuff. I can show you things one day that’ll mimic it using steam.”

“Good,” she said. “Continue.”

“So, I boarded the ship knowing someone was alive.”

“How?” Thadius asked.

“Call it a sphere of perception?”

Thadius nodded. “I can go along with that.”

“I found a dying soldier—half his body gone. He’d fought a Grillon, then, with luck on his side, a huge girder had fallen on the alien. But that hadn’t killed it. A… spear through the brain did. The soldier had put the ring on, keeping him alive until he gave it to me. He told me to get the hell away. Unfortunately, my crew mates had run by then as a Grillon ship had arrived. I raced to an escape pod, but the aliens destroyed the ship as it escaped. The explosion sent me hurtling deep into space and through a temporal wormhole. I landed here one hundred and eighty-six years later.”

Elowen tapped her pencil on her chin.

“Pod?”

“A tiny ship not much bigger than me.”

“How could you live so long?”

“The pod sustained me and put me in a type of sleep.”

“Temporal wormhole?”

“Imagine a wizard’s portal but a massive hole in space linking two universes.”

“Universe.”

“The sky and all the stars combined are one universe. I come from a different one.”

“Yet we speak the same language,” she said.

Josh sat back, digesting her words. “The ring speaks to me in my language but is of Grillon origin. It analyzed your language based on the conversation it heard and adapted me to speak and hear it. It caused me to have a massive headache just before I met Arabella and Thadius.”

“I agree with your assessment.”

Arabella clapped. “I knew you two would get on.”

Elowen sent her a look, but then she winked and smiled. “He’s kinda cute. I’ll give you that.”

Josh blushed.

“Okay,” Elowen said, putting her pencil down. “Are we all happy that was the truth?”

“I believe I am,” said Thadius.

“Me too,” said Arabella.

“The proof is in the forest. If you don’t believe me, we’ll go and find the pod,” Josh said.

Elowen stood, walking around the table and plucking a piece of paper from an easel. “I don’t need proof. I saw you land.” She placed it on the table. It was a drawing, the Hangsane Mountains in the background, the forest in the foreground, and the colossus in front of it all. Behind was a shooting star. “It sent the witch into overdrive. She said a great demon had come. Are you a demon, Josh?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Good, then we can get on. What is it you need, Thadius?”

Thadius explained the workings of the ring as he understood it, drawing the occasional gasp from Elowen. Josh added some salient points, and Arabella colored it all in with some of her observations. Then Thadius summed up his quandary. “I can’t believe Josh has to hurt himself so badly whenever he wants to advance. He had to have a wolf attack him, a bear nearly kill him, and then be drained of pints of blood by hundreds of leeches to get his last advancement. Surely, that can’t be the only way.”

“It does appear a little extreme.” She spun her pencil back and forth. “We have strength, Speed and Agility, Durability and Combat Instinct. So, the first thing we should consider is the difference between training and actual life-and-death situations. That is pretty easy to figure out. When you run, you run hard, but not as hard as if a slathering bear was after you. Suppose you do a push-up. It's not quite the same as trying and failing to shove a bear off you. The problem with training is you don’t push yourself all the way to failure. You simply think you do. Unless you rinse every ounce of effort out, the ring thinks you have enough power and appraises it that way.”

Josh felt the first pangs of love for Elowen. “I get it—I see it. The reason I’m not progressing apart from in life-or-death situations is because my brain shuts the training down before I’ve truly tested myself.”

“Exactly. You must get past the normal bounds and go that much further. You need to run until you collapse. Lift a weight until you fail, then try again. For durability, you must punish your body until it can’t take anymore. Stand near a fire until you blister. Stay out in the cold until your fingers blacken. Push yourself beyond what a normal human would endure, then trust your ring to heal you. It’s brutal. It’s not nice. But it doesn’t risk your life because you are always in control.”

It was a bleak proposal, but Josh imagined she was on the right track. He’d heard the Grillons were fearless creatures and put it down to their invincibility. But it wasn’t beyond reach that they were cold-blooded or had minimal pain receptors. Therefore, pushing boundaries in a controlled environment would train the ring without causing them undue stress.

“But he can’t endure that level of pain just to get strong. That’s horrific,” Arabella said.

“No,” Josh said. “It merely presents us with a simpler problem to solve.”

“How to dull down his pain,” Elowen said.

Thadius clapped his hands. “There, I told you she’d get to the bottom of it. Although, she got there much faster than I thought she would.”

“But even if we dull down the pain, his skin will still blister,” Arabella said.

“Yes, but I won’t feel it. I’d rather go through that than have a bear rip me to shreds.”

“I get it,” she said. “I don’t like it, but I get it.”

“It begs one other question. Is anyone around here who can mix such a potion or cast such a spell?” Thadius asked.

Elowen inclined her head, her brown hair falling like a curtain. She was beautiful—but her body was a mystery. The cloak, while skimpy for a cloak, covered up her curves, making it impossible to judge her breasts. As he looked at her, she glanced back. A smile rippled over her lips. She yawned, stretching her arms and tightening her cloak against her chest.

Yeah, she’s got a rack, and she wants me to know it!

Elowen slumped forward, her elbows on the table. “The witch Cassandra Day. She’ll be able to do it, but she comes with her own level of crazy I’m not sure any of us are ready for.”

“Cassandra Day?” said Thadius. “She doesn’t sound like an ordinary witch.”

“Trust me. She isn’t.”

“Can you arrange a meeting?” Arabella asked. “I don’t want Josh to suffer.”

“We won’t have to. She’ll see the wagon and arrive like a flaming arrow, destroying all she touches.”

“That bad?” Thadius asked.

“Bad?” Elowen asked. “No, not bad. I like her. She’s different.”

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Arabella said sarcastically.

“So,” Thadius said. “Can we move on from Josh?”

Elowen nodded. “I believe we can, although I’ll admit to one thing before we do. Josh, I’m going to have plenty of questions for you. You have the knowledge of a much more advanced race than us. I’ll help you, but I expect a lot in return. I want answers.”

“Then you’ll have to join us when we go monster hunting because that’s what we’re going to do,” Arabella said.

“And when was this decided?” Thadius said stiffly.

“What else do you want us to do? You want us to be farmers?”

Thadius shook his head. “Farmers? No. But monster hunters?”

“I want to find out where they come from,” Josh said. “They make no damn sense, and I can’t have that.”

“Can’t have that?” Elowen said.

“I hate mysteries,” Josh replied.

“So do I, and boy, do I have one for you.”

Thadius clapped and smiled. “A good one?”

“A great one. But first, I need to show you something.” She stood. “Did you wonder why I pitched my tent here—right in the middle of the ruins?”

“You do normally prefer a little privacy,” Arabella said.

“I do, but I was looking at all the layouts—the grid the ruins sit in—it all aligns with the rising sun. So, knowing this, I watched it for days and days. As the sun rose to a certain point, it reflected from the colossus’ eyes onto a point at the opposite end of the ruins, but then I observed an anomaly which made no sense.”

“Made no sense?”

“No matter what the time of day, the sun’s reflection always focused there—” she pointed at her bed “—right up until noon. Once I’d seen it, it was so obvious that I nearly kicked myself. It’s just not something you notice when a thing is so vast. You see it, it reflects the sun, and you leave it at that. So, I pitched the tent over the spot. Guess what happened then.”

Thadius shrugged. “It stopped happening?”

“Exactly. The reflection began acting normally, moving down the central alley. That’s when the colossus started moving. That’s when people began dying.”

“Why didn’t you move it then?” Arabella asked.

“Two reasons. Firstly, the colossus hasn’t got anything to do with the deaths.”

“And the second reason?”

Elowen stood. “Josh, help me move my bed.”

“Okay.” He got up and took one end while she took the other. They shifted the bed aside. A blanket covered a patch of dead grass.

“This was the area. See, the grass is dried and scorched. So, I scraped it away and found this.”

She pulled away the blanket.

Chapter Fourteen

THE TRAP DOOR was four feet long, three wide, and split in two. Iron hinges held it in place, and an iron clasp fixed one door to the other with a piece of wood locking them shut. Thadius crouched and inspected it. “Have you opened it?”

“Nope. Looked too much like it was holding something in rather than keeping people out,” Elowen said.

“I concur,” said Thadius. He stood, raking at his beard. “Well, we need to get it open, or we might as well pack our bags and leave now.” He grabbed his strange box, touching it here and there in what appeared to be a random sequence, but which Josh somehow doubted was. A drawer sprang open. Thadius slipped a sword out, then picked up a dagger. “Arabella, go fetch the lever from the wagon.”

“Is that some kind of trick box?” Josh asked.

“It is. Designed to keep my stuff in and prying eyes out.”

“I’ve got to get me one of them,” he said.

“In time, Josh. In time. Elowen, are you okay to join us?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ve been itching to get in there.”

“What’s the order?” Josh asked.

“You’ll go first. You’ve got your ring, a luxury none of us has. You want to help. That will help.”

“Fine by me,” said Josh. He hadn’t advanced any of his numbers all day. Something lurked deep inside him, urging him on, telling him he had to move forward, and it wasn’t his desire to bed Arrabella.

“My quiver is back in the wagon,” Arabella said, returning with the lever, her bow, and the quiver. “I swear it wasn’t there this morning.”

“And I know it wasn’t there last night,” Thadius said. “Something odd is going on. Something odd indeed.”

“What?” Elowen asked.

“Those thugs that attacked us,” Thadius said. “They were Smeeks’ men. He’s trying to find out who killed them. We think, no, we know, we left Arabella’s arrow in Gort’s corpse. Before I could retrieve her quiver, it vanished. Now it’s magically back.”

“That is odd. So, we can surmise that someone knows you killed Gort.”

“And a character called Krill,” Josh said.

“It’ll be Smeeks,” Arabella said.

“No, we don’t do that, do we, Bells?” Elowen said. “We stick to what the facts tell us. We only know someone knows. We don’t know who.”

“Bells?” Josh asked.

Arabella poked her tongue out. “Nickname.”

“Okay, okay,” said Thadius. “We have our party. Arabella, you stand back, arrow nocked. Josh, you in first. Arabella, give him the lever. I’ll go after Josh. Elowen, do you have your spear?”

“Got it,” said Elowen.

“You next then. Then you, Arabella.”

Josh took the lever, knocking the wood from the latch. He tried tugging it, but the doors were stuck.

“They’ll be stiff through age. Even the greatest magical wards won’t get around time,” Thadius said. “The damp gets right in my joints as I get older.”

Josh wedged the lever in, snapping it back with one easy action, then tugging the door open.

“So, he’s pretty strong already,” said Elowen.

“Killed Krill with one punch,” Arabella said.

“That’s pretty strong. Krill was small but no lightweight.”

Josh pulled the other door back. A set of stone steps led down into darkness. They all peered in.

“We need a torch,” Josh said.

“We do, but we shouldn’t light it here. It will blaze against the tent’s canvas, and we have a fair idea someone is watching us. We take care from now on in—no mistakes. Elowen, get Josh a torch and strike. Josh, go down ten or so steps and light the torch.”

Josh stared at him. “You’re kidding, right? You want me to walk down into a place likely with some kind of monster lurking and without a weapon or a light to spot the attack?”

Thadius sighed. “This is what I was afraid of. A day without danger, and you’ve already forgotten your sphere of perception. It will spot the danger. You don’t have to.”

Josh closed his eyes. “Yeah, sorry. You’re right. It hadn’t gone off all day, and I did kind of forget about it.” He quickly looked it up to make sure it was there. “I suppose that’s the point of it, though. I only notice it if I’m in the shit.”

“Coarsely put, but essentially correct,” Thadius said. “It’s another reason you’re going first.”

“A damn fine one, too,” Josh said, his confidence returning.

He climbed down the steps, waiting until his head was below hatch level before lighting the torch and pocketing the strike. The stairwell descended into the darkness. A few webs caught fire, soon burning out. He listened but could hear nothing. “Smells old, like it hasn’t been open in an age.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Something triggered these events. Nothing is random in this world.”

“It keeps going down,” Josh said. “I’ll carry on.”

“We’re right behind you.” Arabella’s voice spurred him on. He wanted her to think him courageous, but he wasn’t entirely confident in his new powers. Being much stronger than another human was alright, but some of the beasts they’d described sounded much more powerful than he was.

He steeled himself and crept down one step at a time, breathing a sigh of relief when his light brushed the last step, a corridor leading away.

“Coming to the bottom,” he said.

“Okay. Does your sphere sense anything?” Thadius asked.

“No.”

“Elowen?”

“Hold tight on the bottom step, Josh. I’m coming through.” Elowen quickly joined him on the bottom step. “Okay, so you can sense danger, but if there isn’t any danger present, you can’t sense it.”

“Yes.”

“Crap. If there had been potential danger, you wouldn’t have felt it.”

“How does that make any sense?”

“Imagine this. The first step is a pressure point. You step on it. Then, it activates a trap. Would your sphere see it before or after the trap activates?”

“After, I guess.”

“And you’re dead by then—which might be recoverable for you, but not for me. We pushed our luck with the steps. I think caution from now on.”

“Agreed,” said Thadius.

“Take the spear—”

“I got it,” said Josh, handing her the torch. “I’ve done my share of dungeon diving.”

“Of what?”

“Game I used to play before. This is dungeon diving. I have to trigger any traps.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She shoved him.

Josh teetered on the edge of the step, nearly overbalancing. “What the hell?”

“I had hold of you all the time,” Elowen said, chuckling.

“If you two have quite finished,” Thadius said.

Josh began pressing all the stone flags, waving the spear up and down and jabbing it at the ceiling. When he was sure the first area was clear, he moved forward. They progressed slowly, concluding that the corridor was clear. Then, the torchlight brushed a dark figure facing them in the passage.

“What the hell’s that?” he said as his senses went haywire, red coloring his vision and the figure lurching forward.

“It’s the torch!” Thadius shouted. “The light has woken it.”

A much smaller version of the colossus raced toward them. Without time to think, Josh burst forward, running straight for the beast, his shoulder down, ready for a collision. His vision pulsed with red, the stone figure running for him. Josh braced, ready for impact, and launched himself at it, grimacing, waiting for the collision.

They came together with an almighty thump, both stopping, their force canceling each other’s momentum out. Josh’s shoulder shattered, bone chips scattering through his flesh like shrapnel. He cried out but was damned if he would let the thing through—let it trample his Arabella. He drove it back, slamming it onto the floor. Sitting over it, one arm dangling uselessly by his side, he raised his other arm and brought his fist down on the stone beast’s head. As flesh and stone connected, as bone shattered, he realized the beast wasn’t moving, that it had one function: to trample intruders, and that it was already dead. He howled in pain as his hand shattered, driven by his new strength. His head swam, the agony unbelievable.

“Josh!” Arabella screamed.

“I’ll be okay,” he said.

“No, another one’s coming.”

Oh, God, no! he muttered to himself. He hadn’t seen it. His senses hadn’t picked it up. But he knew his role. It was so clear to him that he was surprised he hadn’t named himself before. He was the tank. It was his job to soak up punishment. He rose, his knees barely locking in place, as his perception finally alerted him to the danger. He ran forward, aiming his good shoulder at the second stone beast. And he screamed—emptied his lungs and ran as fast as he could.

His whole world erupted in a flurry of red writing, pain, and pride as he collided with the beast and knocked it onto its back. He’d done it. He’d stopped the beast and saved the girl.

The girl he was in love with. The girl he’d only met three days ago.

Then he blacked out.

He came to in the same tunnel, sitting against a wall right by the fallen stone creature. Fortunately, it wasn’t moving, and had he been sure it had once been alive, he was positive it was dead. For some strange reason, he could smell stew. Arabella came in and out of his vision as he focused.

“Are we eating down here? Why are we eating down here?”

“You were badly injured—terribly. Your bots have been healing you but usually need food, so I brought some. We couldn’t move you and drag you up the steps, not in your condition.”

“Stew,” he said. “What’s a man got to do to get a steak around here?” He tried a grin, but half his teeth were missing. “Stew’s probably best at the moment.”

She spooned some into his mouth. He managed to swallow half. The pain from his shoulders, jaw, ribs—just about everywhere—didn’t help him eat. “More,” he said, then kept going until he’d finished the bowl. Arabella sat beside him, letting him lean against her and rest his head on her shoulder. Even that hurt, but he could smell her scent, and with it, he transported himself back to their loft room, and he watched her as she pleasured him, and he let her pull him through the pain again as she had with the leeches.

Then, as he was about to drift back to unconsciousness, the female voice sounded in his mind.

Catastrophic damage received

Host in need of phased rebuilding

Phases needed 3

Phases completed 0/3

Initiating phase 1

Basic attributes deemed inadequate

Basic senses deemed inadequate

Working on solutions to enhance existing attributes

Strength–poor

Speed and agility–adequate

Durability–extremely poor

Combat instinct - adequate

Assessing requirements to protect the host

Upgrading Strength

Strength +1

Upgrading Durability

Durability +2

New Score =

Strength = 5

Speed and Agility = 6

Durability = 12

Combat instinct = 7

Average = 7.5

Senses

Working on solutions to enhance existing senses

Basic intuitive hazard detection - passive–inadequate

Upgrading basic intuitive hazard detection

Assigning:

Intermediate intuitive hazard detection - passive

Rank = Novice Enforcer

Tier = Bronze Initiate

Title = Bronze Initiate of the Novice Enforcer

Applying changes.

A surge of well-being streamed through him. His whole body warmed as his shoulders knitted together. But when he tried to get up and stand, a red warning flashed across his vision, and he remembered seeing it briefly before but hadn’t been able to read it. The female voice sounded again, initiating and completing phase two.

“What just happened?” Elowen asked. “His whole body glowed.”

“Hold on,” said Josh. “One more to go.”

The ring completed phase three. Josh inspected his new stats.

New Score =

Strength = 6

Speed and Agility = 6

Durability = 16

Combat instinct = 7

Average = 8.75

He sat up. “There, I think we’re done,” he said.

“Are you going to tell me what just happened?” Arabella asked.

“I think you just got your tank,” he said.

“Sometimes you don’t make any sense whatsoever.”

“Well, I think that second stone thing reduced me to a bag of bone chips, and the ring had to rebuild me. My durability just shot from ten to sixteen, and I gained a couple of points in strength, too. But I have to ask myself if it was worth it.”

“And what would the answer be?” Thadius asked.

“Hell fucking yeah!” Josh cried.

Chapter Fifteen

JOSH PUSHED AGAINST THE WALL, testing for pain and finding it absent. He entwined his fingers and stretched his arms. Nothing. Finally, he tentatively rolled his shoulders. That didn't hurt, either.

“Yeah,” he said. “It's rebuilt me. I think it's even removed the knots in my shoulders.”

“I think I could do with one of those rings,” Thadius said.

Elowen was silent. She shuffled forward, squeezing past Arabella, then looked into Josh’s eye, grabbed his jaw, and moved his head around.

“Amazing,” she finally said. “Was that you that charged the gollums?”

“Was it me?” Josh screwed his face up. “Gollums? I suppose they were gollums. Yes, it was me. Who else did you think it was?”

“No, you misunderstand. Was it you or the ring? Did the ring force you?”

“It doesn't work like that,” he said. “The ring functions in the background. It's like my backup. Yeah, I have this sphere of perception—which has grown, by the way, Thadius.”

“Grown?” Thadius asked.

“Yeah, I didn't see that second gollum coming. If I had, I'd have shoved the first into it instead of getting it on the ground. I think it saw that as a failure.”

“What did it give you? Increased range?”

“Not sure yet. I haven't moved, and there are no more active threats.”

“Interesting,” said Thadius.

“So it was you?” Elowen said.

“Yeah, it was me.”

“You saved all our lives,” she said.

“No, I did my job. I've got this self-heal. I used it. That's that. Let's not get all dramatic about it.”

“But that's not for you to decide. Bells?”

“Yeah?” said Arabella.

“May I?”

“I knew you'd want to.”

“Want to what?” said Josh, but before he could say anything else, Elowen swooped, her lips locked on his in a passionate, if brief, kiss.

“That's for saving my life.”

“Look—”

“Don't, Josh,” said Arabella. “Don't say it's okay. You suffer whenever you save us. We must find a way to avoid that as much as possible.”

“She's right,” said Thadius. “Without the ring, we'd all be dead now. We have to approach things with more caution.”

“Hey,” Josh said. “I'm all for keeping my bones where they should be, but I will use it if needed. Can we cut the rest of this bullshit out and get on?”

“Bullshit?” Thadius said.

“Yeah, bullshit. I’ve done my job, so let’s get on. Oh, and if you want to give me gratitude, I've thought about how you can. I want a steak—a big, juicy steak—and I want one as soon as possible. I like the stew and all, but is it all you folks ever eat?”

Arabella grabbed both his hands and stood on tiptoes to kiss him quickly. “I'm with you on that. You get different food in the city, but it all seems to be stew here.”

He hated all the praise and thanks. Well, perhaps hated wasn’t the word. Arabella and Elowen’s adoration was pretty horny, but the gratitude was a little embarrassing. Especially when it was the ring that was doing the heavy lifting. He relaxed. “Hate to say it, girls, but Thadius is the only one who hasn't kissed me.”

“Dad?”

“I would rather be crushed by a dozen stone gollums than kiss Josh.”

“He doesn't mean that,” Josh whispered into Arabella's ear, but loud enough so everyone could hear. “He's smitten.”

Thadius grunted. “I'm guessing two out of the three of us are.”

“Thadius!” Elowen protested. “Really! My kiss was simply gratitude. Josh saved my life, after all.”

“Well, it was a very nice kiss,” Josh said. “So, I'll be there if you ever need me to save your life again.” Josh picked up the torch. “I think we've cleared this section. Shall we see what's at the end?” He waved the torch forward, but the corridor stretched on with no end in sight.

“We should be safe from here on it, but let's be cautious. Josh, the spear.” Thadius handed him Elowen's spear.

“I’m in no hurry to break any more bones.”

They made slow progress, and eventually, a door came into view. It was similar in design to the trapdoors, with no light coming from the cracks in its frame.

“Judging on the direction,” Elowen said. “We must be somewhere near the front of the ruins.”

“It makes sense that this might be a boundary of some sort. Can you remember what’s there?” Thadius asked.

“A crumbled watchtower, I think.”

Josh moved on, approaching the door. He nudged it with the spear, but it was on a latch, so it didn’t budge. He sniffed the wood. “Dry,” he said, lifting the latch and teasing it with the spear's tip.

It swung open, revealing a circular chamber with books and scrolls on multiple shelves that lined every wall. In the center, a set of spiral steps had once led up through the ceiling, but that had collapsed long ago, rock and mud covering all. A table and chairs sat close to the door, with a bed, an armchair, and a hearth making up the rest of the room’s furniture. Without all the rubble and mud, the place would have been quite homely in a bachelor-esque way. It lacked any sign of a woman’s touch.

“I love it,” said Elowen, dashing across to the shelves, picking a book out, and carrying it carefully to the table. “The Art of Transformation by J R Partly,” she said and pulled up a chair.

Thadius scanned the shelves. “These are all tomes pertaining to the arcane arts. The focus appears to be stone crafting, mutation, and some form of transfiguration. I believe we are looking at quite a specialist here.”

“I could stay here forever. There's so much to learn.” Elowen sighed.

“There's one about gollums here,” Arabella said. “I think we've found a sorcerer's hideout.” She looked up. “What's the bet that this used to be a wizard's tower and not a watchtower?”

Thadius snapped his fingers. “That's it! This is the home of a sorcerer specializing in stone gollums and probably graduating to the colossus. I'll bet our huge friend out there is his Magnus Opus—his Great Work.”

“His great work?” Arabella asked.

“All wizards want to leave their mark on the world. For this one, I'll bet it was our friend out there. The only question is this. Why would a wizard need a secret entrance into his tower?”

Elowen looked up, closing the book. “That's just it, isn't it? That's the beauty of archaeology. It might not have been a secret entrance. In fact, it makes no sense that it would have been. The entrance is in the middle of what we assumed was the main thoroughfare through the original Elrima. You wouldn't put an opening in the middle of a road. So, we'll have to look again at the whole layout. Also, when you think about it, the gollum and the tower are dead opposite each other. The gollum faces the east and looks straight at the rising sun.” She brought out a pencil and some paper. “I'll bet this wasn't a road, but some magical causeway—a link between the colossus and the tower.”

“Perhaps,” Thadius said, looking over her shoulder, “Perhaps it was a means to channel magical energy into the beast—a way to focus power.”

Elowen began writing furiously. “I'll need to look at the ruins again, but it makes sense. If a powerful sorcerer existed here, he would have built the whole city around focusing his power. Everything in it would be there to maintain his magic and help defend the place.”

“Maybe the colossus was his defense?” Josh suggested.

“Well, it sheds a whole new light on the matter. We need to get working,” Elowen said. “We need to work all night.”

“Hello!” The shrill voice rang down the corridor into the room. “Hello! Is there anyone home? Oh, my! Gollums! I haven't seen a gollum in an age. Hello! Anyone there?”

“Who's that?” Thadius hissed. “We can't have anyone discovering what we're up to!”

“Well, it's too late for that, sweetie,” said a throaty voice. “Are you in the room at the end? Hello! Who’s there? Ah, there you all are. What a cozy little party.”

A woman stood in the doorway. She had jet black hair, skin like porcelain, and eyes that drew to a point, painted black with flecks drifting away to her temples like her eyes were burning and the paint was breeze-blown smoke. Her black cloak was open, revealing a full cleavage, her top loose-laced and straining, defying the odds to remain in one piece. She wore skintight short pants that hid nothing and revealed everything. Knee-length boots reached her stocking-clad thighs, and she held a crooked staff made from black ash.

“Well, what have we here?” she said. “Looks like someone's discovered Maechellion's lair. Are you sure you want to touch those books? Do you know who they belong to? He'll not take kindly to someone pawing over his stuff. Especially not a woman.”

“Get out of here, Cassandra, and keep your mouth shut, or else!” Elowen snapped.

“Or else what?” Cassandra asked. “I don't sense magic in any of you.” She narrowed her eyes further when she came to Josh, striding up and peering into his eyes. “Except perhaps him. He has something in him, but it's hard to know if he controls it or if it controls him. He is intriguing, very intriguing.” Her tongue drifted across her lips as she looked him over. “And he’s delish! I could eat him up.” She grabbed his hand, pulling it up. “My, what an interesting ring. Where did you get it?”

“You leave him alone!” Arabella spat.

Cassandra dropped Josh’s hand and whipped around, pointing her staff at Arabella. “Someone put a leash on that lovestruck puppy before I do something I might regret.”

“It’s okay, Arabella,” Josh said. “She has no ill intent toward me, so I can only assume she has none toward any of us.” He moved away, walking to the door and standing in it. “But we need to know what your next move is. We want to keep this place a secret until we know what we can do about the colossus.”

She followed him to the door. “You think you can keep me here a prisoner?”

“I think I'm tougher than you think I am. But no, I don't want to keep you here against your will, but I do need to understand your intentions.”

She spun around, facing Thadius. “You don't say a lot.”

“I find words meaningless unless they have intent. I have no input at the moment, so I choose to keep silent. What do you know of this sorcerer? Perhaps we can be of use to each other.”

Cassandra’s lips curled into a devious smile, revealing a perfect set of white teeth. She trailed the tip of her staff from Josh’s chin to his groin, letting it linger on his dick. “What’s my reward for helping?” she asked, then sniffed the air, bringing the staff down and thumping it onto the floor with a small flash and a burst of thin, gray smoke. “Let me tell you something about Maechellion. Then I will go. Maechellion was one of the most evil sorcerers you could ever imagine. What you think are temples were sacrificial slaughterhouses. What you think were iron loops to tether pretty little ponies held slaves, chained and ready to have their throats cut. These ruins—the places you think are our grand heritage—are nothing more than pits of spite and despair. The old ones aren’t a race to be adulated. They were evil, seeding this land with monsters, sewing discord wherever they settled.”

“That’s very powerful and all, but it doesn't clear anything up,” Josh said. “Are you with us or against us? Will you tell anyone about this place or not?”

“That all depends on you, sweetie.” She raked his cheeks with her fingers, nails biting in and leaving a thin trail of blood. “Do you want to ensure this evil never rises again, or are you on the wizard's side as he tries to resurrect his people?”

“You act like he's still alive,” Thadius said.

“Oh, he's alive. He's very much alive and growing more powerful by the day.” She slid past Josh, but then leaned back, their cheeks touching. “Come visit me tomorrow. Elowen knows where I live. We'll do lunch. Then you can tell me your decision, and I'll make mine after that.”

She left.

“That was Cassandra Day,” said Elowen. “I told you she was something else.”

They emerged from the tent, leaving Elowen pawing over Maechellion’s scrolls and books.

“Lord Calico Rayne would like to invite you to his marquee,” a waiting soldier said.

Calico’s red and yellow colors draped over the man’s light armor, and he held a drawn sword at his side. He sported a thuggishly square head, a nose that meandered like a river, and two scars crisscrossed his face. Towering over Thadius, it was hard not to infer a threat, but Josh’s sphere of perception was neutral, so he deemed the man’s threat minimal. A couple more of Calico’s soldiers loitered a few yards away.

“What if I don’t want to go?” Thadius asked stiffly.

“Do you fight monsters, Thadius Extrael?”

“You know full well I do.”

“As does my Lord. So, answer me this: Why would you not want to meet my Lord? He is the foremost hunter in all of Mythelore. Perhaps he might favor you with some tips and tricks?”

“The foremost monster hunter in all of Mythelore,” Thadius repeated. “Well—Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t give it. But it’s Hirst. If you want to get to Calico, you go through me. On this occasion, he has asked me to reach out to you, but make no mistake, if you don’t accept, then you won’t ever meet him again. His meeting a has-been like yourself only serves to dilute his magnificence.”

“Well, Hirst, then I should accept, shouldn’t I? After all, what has a lowly, second-rate hunter like me got to lose?”

Hirst sighed. “What are you doing here, Extrael?”

“What I do best, root out evil, in whatever guise it happens to come.”

Hirst moved closer to Thadius. Josh slid between them, squaring up to Hirst, who towered over him.

“And who the fuck are you?” Hirst sneered.

“Name’s Underwood, Josh Underwood, and trust me when I say this. If you mean any harm to Thadius, you got me to contend with first. Now, you’ve got the height and reach, so if you want to settle this now, I’ll give you the first shot free.” He hung his chin out.

Hirst glared at him. “Josh Underwood?”

Thadius stepped out from behind Josh. “Arabella’s betrothed. Now, let’s dispense with this nonsense and cut to the chase. If Calico wishes to see me, and it appears he does, then why not? He was once my apprentice, after all. Perhaps he’s forgotten some aspect of what I taught him? Or maybe he wants to talk of old times? Either way, I’m sure there is little reason for such animosity.”

Hirst sucked his cheeks in, tension running out of him. “You two aren’t worth it, anyway. If you’ve got any sense, Underwood, you’ll ditch this loser and work with us. We could use a man with your guts. Follow me.”

Josh made to follow, but Thadius held him back. “You are an intelligent man,” he told Josh. “Use it now. Calico has the power. I do not. He has the king’s authority. I do not. You can be bullish with Hirst, but try the same with Calico, and you will lose your head. No ring in the land will help you then.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I get it, but I don’t like it.”

“Josh,” Arabella said. “Just get through this. Come back to it when you’re so powerful, they’ve got no chance—no chance at all.”

He took her hands. “I’ll try. But if they insult you, then I’ll take them out.”

“If they insult me, you walk away, bide your time, get strong, and then kill them. Got it?” She smiled at him, pecked him on the cheek, and walked after Hirst.

Calico’s red and yellow striped marquee sat in the center of five others. It was, of course, the grandest and even had an entranceway with a boot scraper, sword rack, and two guards stationed outside. Hirst marched straight in, but the guards stopped Thadius, Josh, and Arabella, demanding they leave all their weapons outside.

Josh felt quite confident in his power, with or without weapons. He’d been ready to face Hirst without drawing Thadius’ sword. Even if Calico’s righthand man had struck, he’d have caught the soldier’s blade, confident he could have held it. Then he would have punched Hirst right in the face. It was a scenario he replayed a few times as he waited to enter.

Torches lit the inside, a central brazier warming the substantial room. Calico sat in a grand chair—not quite a throne, but certainly a statement. He was around Josh’s age—perhaps a handful of years older and devastatingly handsome, with long, curly brown hair and intense hazel eyes. He wore a heavy red cloak, velvet in texture, with silver mail under. One of his feet dangled lazily over the chair’s side while the other rested on a footstool.

“Thadius!” he said, a broad grin spreading. “Have you come to offer me your sage advice?”

“I came because you invited me to.” Thadius was calm, seemingly immune to the awkwardness of the exchange.

“Then let me tell you what is going to happen. I will have the warrant to investigate and deal with the colossus within a few days. I don’t need you, Thadius—don’t need you poking your nose in where it isn’t wanted. This appears to be a pretty straightforward issue to deal with. There is no monster. There might be some lingering curse. Perhaps one of the adventurers has disturbed a dungeon. Some measure of law and order needs to be restored to the area, but I’ll have that warrant, too.” He raised his hands, palms open. “So, as you can see, I have everything under control. Smithering arrives tomorrow afternoon. He will erase curses, nullify activated runes, and crush lingering spells. Then, it’s simply a matter of toppling the colossus and destroying it.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re dealing with?” Thadius asked.

Calico laughed. “Know? I know you like to overcomplicate matters. Pack your bags and go. I hear there’s a cracatore to deal with in the marshlands of Aravale. It’s worth a gold coin. Would you like the warrant? Save me a detour.”

“A gold coin?” Thadius said. “No, you keep it. Your staff alone must cost you a fortune.”

Calico stood and approached Arabella. “It is much cheaper to employ family. How are you, Arabella?”

“Ready to fight,” she snapped. “And I don’t care who.”

He grinned, his gaze settling on Josh. “I hear congratulations are in order. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your betrothed?”

“Who I’m betrothed to and who I’m not is none of your business.”

“On the contrary, I always thought you might like to join my harem. But then, that’s not an option, is it? At least,”—he strolled over to Josh—”not while he lives. Underwood, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Unsavory family. You sully her by associating yourself with her. Something I will decide if I let stand.”

Josh squared up to him but remembered Thadius’ word. “When you choose, perhaps do me the honor of coming to see me yourself—just you and me.”

Calico laughed, retreating to his seat. “Underwood, you won’t even know when I decide, and I have Hirst to do my dirty work for me. Even the king will mourn when he hears Thadius Extrael is consorting with an Underwood. Take care, Arabella. All is not lost.” He winked at her.

Josh took a step forward, but Hirst barred the way. “Time to go. Pack your things and get out of Elrima before things get nasty.”

Thadius grabbed Josh. “I would like to say it’s been pleasant, Calico, but the words escape me. Come, Josh, Arabella, the air has soured in here.”

“Gone by morning,” Calico called. “Or my next warrant will have your name on it, Extrael.”

Chapter Sixteen

LOOKING out of his bedroom window, Josh narrowed his eyes, trying to get a view of the bridge. The village's layout reminded him of the ruins. The tavern could be the colossus. The road out was the path Elowen thought was likely used for magnifying this supposed sorcerer's magic, and the bridge might represent Elowen's tent. It was uncannily similar.

Arabella came up behind him, wrapping her arms around him and squashing her breasts into him. “I don't like it.”

“Froggat said he could prove the devil had awoken. He said to meet him alone. I have to go. We need as much information as possible for tomorrow's meeting with the witch.”

“You mean with Cassandra. I saw her look at you. She was undressing you with her eyes!”

“She was pretty spectacular,” Josh said. “I wonder what her deal is. She looked far too young to be a witch. I expected an old crone.”

“I’ll bet she’s as old as the hills and all wrinkly if you remove her youth spells.”

He turned, shoving his groin into hers. “Get you jealous, did she?”

“Not at all. If she is who she looks like, she’s a fine-looking woman. I’m just betting she’s about a hundred years old.”

“What if she isn’t?”

“Then she’s still as annoying as hell.”

“I’ll give you that one. I’ve still got to meet Frogatt, though.”

“Let's ask Dad. I don’t like it.”

“He'll only say no or try and follow me.” He looked out of the window. “You can just about see the bridge from here, so you can keep an eye out, and if anything does go wrong, you can fetch your dad.”

“I might be able to keep an eye out, but by the time I get help, you would be dead.”

“Seriously?” he said, holding her close. “You think that old man could do me damage? The gollums? Remember them? If they didn't kill me, then Froggat won't.”

“We still don't know how good the ring is. What if he stabs you or something like that?”

He rested his palm on her cheek. “Nothing will happen. I won't let it. For the first time in my life, I have too much to lose.”

She drew close, frowning, then kissing him softly. “Go. Go now before I change my mind and follow you myself.”

Josh cocked his head. “You stay put. That is what I want. You understand?”

“Yes,” she said.

He kissed her quickly. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

He slipped out, his adrenaline up, sliding down the ladder and taking the stairs two at a time. Skulking through the courtyard's shadows, he paused, looking down the road and planning his route. He might have only been around for a few days, but he loved the life already—especially anything regarding Arabella. There was no way he wanted something to jeopardize that.

Thadius was still a mystery to him. The old man wasn't frail and was still in charge. He'd handled his sword fine, but Josh had always carried responsibility well. At the very least, he wanted to prove himself to the others and become Thadius’ equal. What had Arabella said? Why wouldn't girls want to be with powerful men? Something like that. Well, he would be one, and he wasn't scared of meeting an old grifter in a small village.

He skimmed along the side of the road, coming to the bridge without incident. Froggat stood in the middle, looking over the river.

“Didn't think y'ud come,” he said. “Didn't think y'ud have the stones.”

“I got plenty of stones,” Josh said, immediately wishing he hadn't. “What do you want? What information have you got that's for my ears only?”

“You a city type?” he asked.

“City, no.”

“What are you then? Coz you sure ain't a country boy.”

“They call me a slugger where I come from. Worked some ships and boats.”

“Where's that?”

“Long way from here.” He glared at the man, suddenly wishing he was back in the bedroom with Arabella. “The information? What did you want to tell me?”

“Gonna cost you.”

Josh smacked the wood parapet. “A shakedown, eh? Well, Frogatt, you picked the wrong man. I've got no coin—zero—nothing.”

“Maybe it won't cost you coin. Maybe my price is something else.”

Josh settled back on the parapet. “I'm listening.”

“The colossus needs destroying.” He looked around, the moon catching his enlarged eye as his maddened gaze fell on Josh. “No good will come of appeasement. The ruins need burning—salt spread everywhere. You must obliterate the whole lot of it. Mark my words; there'll be nothing left of Elrima unless every stone is smashed to dust.”

“Then you’re in luck. That’s exactly what Calico is going to do to it.”

“He won’t.”

“Said he would. Even got a wizard coming.”

“Won’t work. There’s magic, dark magic,” he said. “The worst. The sorcerer was a necromancer. Mark my words!” Frogatt looked about, staring one way and then the other. “I gotta go.” He shuffled off, leaving Josh on the bridge.

“Wait! You haven’t told me anything I didn’t already know!”

It was much as expected—a lot of superstition with no fact. The old man was crazy—probably trying to scare him. But he had sounded genuine. Then again, he would. But why go to the bother of luring him out here? Josh weighed up the new information. Two folks were in the evil sorcerer camp—Frogatt and Cassandra. Calico seemed rooted in the who-cares-let’s-just-destroy-it-and-get-the-bounty camp.

Josh’s perception sphere clouded red. Four figures walked toward him from one direction, and four others came from the other, trapping him on the bridge. Each silhouette glowed bright red, but Josh didn't need the warning to know he was in deep trouble. It was a classic bait and beat, and he’d swallowed the bait whole. He inwardly kicked himself for being so stupid.

I’m going to get even with you, Frogatt!

“You killed Gort, didn't you?” growled the closest thug.

“You done him good,” another said. “Arrow in the face.”

The biggest strolled onto the bridge. “What was it, Underwood? Settling an old score, was we? Had a run in way back when, did you?”

Josh spun around, leaning back against the wall. “Never met the man, and I don't need arrows,” he said, acting as relaxed as he could. “And before you ask, I don't use a sword. Was the other done with a sword?”

“You know how Krill died. You killed him, didn't you? Admit it, and we'll go easier on you than the boss wants.”

“I take it that boss is Smeeks.” He trotted onto the bridge's center. “Don't go easy on me for his benefit. Try and kick seven bells of shit out of me and see how that goes for you.”

The giant man slumped. “Is that what you want?” Then grinned a toothless grin, raising his fists. “I eat city boys like you for breakfast.”

Josh faced him. “Do your fucking worse? I've just about had it with this shit!” His temper rose. He’d had enough. He’d done nothing wrong. Thadius and Arabella had done nothing wrong, yet they were covering their tracks because the whole village was in Smeeks’ pocket, and the whole country was in Calico’s.

But there were eight of them and one of him. The odds weren’t great.

Take the biggest fucker first!

Josh ducked, jinked to one side, stepped forward, and punched the biggest man square on his chin. Like Krill, the man’s head snapped back. The thug staggered, one knee-buckling, but then snapping back into place. He shook his head. “That’s some punch,” he said. “What do you think of this one?” He pulled back his fist and launched it at Josh.

The punch flew through the air, headed straight for the side of Josh’s head. Although fast, Josh had plenty of time to react, even to calculate the path of the man’s strike. If he ducked, it would sail over his head, twist the man’s body around, and expose his temple. Josh would then have plenty of time to get off his punch before sliding out of the way of the second thug, who rushed in from the side. That would, of course, put him into the path of Thug Three, who was lining up a stamp, expecting Josh to be sparked out on the bridge by the time his strike landed. That, in turn, would open up the third man to a straight punch to his testicles and an uppercut to his chin when the goon would inevitably double over in pain from the agony caused by punch one.

So he did that. Thug One missed his punch as Josh ducked. Josh’s punch landed, missing his temple but shattering the man’s jaw and forcing bone shards into his brain. Josh then slid out of the way as Thug Two clattered into the falling corpse of Thug One. Thug Three missed his stamp entirely because Josh wasn’t there and received a punch to the groin, which burst one of his testicles and fractured his pelvic girdle. As predicted, Josh’s uppercut landed, forcing the man’s lower jaw into his upper, shattering his teeth, and moving his nose up to his temple, killing him instantly.

Unfortunately, his combat instinct, being only Novice Enforcer, Bronze Initiate, Level Seven, hadn’t planned further. He failed to spot two thugs coming in from opposite sides of the bridge, one with a club raised and the other with a body like a battering ram. Had it been a little higher, Josh might have dove through Thug Four, forcing him out of the way and leaving Thug Five and Six to collide and knock each other out.

He didn’t do that. Instead, Thug Five hit him with a colossal strike, knocking seven bells out of him while Thug Six tackled him, bundling him over and squashing him against the bridge’s worn planks. Fortunately for Josh, his durability was his highest stat. He rode both the colossal strike and the ensuing tackle without effect. He rolled Thug Six, but rather than waste time hitting him, he sprang off and backed away.

“That’s two of you down permanently. You lot sure you want to carry on?” he said.

They did, five surrounding him while the sixth untangled himself from Thug One’s corpse. Josh didn’t wait for their attack. He chose his path and executed it straight away. His enhanced speed and agility took him through a gap between the groggy Thug Six and the yet-to-engage Thug Seven. At the last moment, he straight-armed Six’s head as hard as possible. A sickening snap followed, and Six fell to the ground as if Josh had cut his strings. Josh leaped for Thug Two, who’d just about untangled himself from Thug One, and kicked him straight in the face, knocking him back where he’d come from, twitching and moaning.

“That’s half of you. Who’s next?”

“Enough!” a voice cracked out. “Enough! Begone all of you!” Smeeks sat atop his horse side-on across the road, sword drawn. “Not you, Underwood. You’re coming with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Josh spat. “Eight of them couldn’t take me down. You and your puny sword sure won’t.”

Smeeks dismounted. He picked his way through the bodies, moving their heads with his boot. “You think this is my doing?”

“Who else?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Well, I can think of at least three factions, but then I’m from around here, and you’re not, so I’d probably better grasp things than you. I think you and I need a chat. Stay there one moment, please.” He drew a knife from his belt, weighed it up, held its blade, pulled back his hand, and threw it. It rotated as it flew through the air, burying itself in the back of Thug Eight’s neck. “I loathe cowards, and he didn’t help his companions.” He jumped onto the bridge’s parapet. “Anyone else thinking of vanishing before they clean up this mess? Take your bodies back with you, or none of you will leave this village tonight. Do I make myself clear?” He jumped back, retrieved his knife, and said, “Now, where were we?”

“You said you wanted a word.”

“And I do, Underwood, but not here. Shall we go to the tavern? You might as well get Thadius and that lovely daughter of his.” He leaned in close. “By the way, are you really betrothed, or is it a ruse to stop her being bothered by southern ruffians such as myself?” He laughed, mounted his horse, and rode off. “One hour, Underwood. Don’t be late. I’ll have a table. Might even treat you to a meal. What do you fancy?”

“Steak, a bloody great steak.”

Smeeks laughed again. “A man after my own heart.”

Josh lay back on the bed. “Hold on one moment. I’ll tell you everything.”

His mind clouded, the words crowding his vision as the female voice sounded.

Basic attributes deemed inadequate

Basic senses deemed adequate

Working on solutions to enhance existing attributes

Strength–adequate

Speed and agility–adequate

Durability–adequate

Combat instinct - poor

Assessing requirements to protect the host

Upgrading Combat Instinct

Combat Instinct +1

New Score =

Strength = 6

Speed and Agility = 6

Durability = 16

Combat instinct = 8

Average = 9

Senses

Intermediate intuitive hazard detection - passive

Rank = Novice Enforcer

Tier = Bronze Initiate

Title = Bronze Initiate of the Novice Enforcer

Applying changes.

Josh exhaled. “Combat instinct—it was the only thing that let me down. I got an average of nine—getting closer!” He grinned.

Arabella didn’t return it. “Smeeks’ thugs jumped you. Now you want to have a meal with him?”

“He claims it wasn’t his men. Says he can think of several groups that could have done it.”

“And you trust him?” Thadius asked from his chair in the corner.

“Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was meeting Frogatt.”

“You are your own man, Josh. You do not need to ask my permission to do anything.”

“Technically, I work for you, so I do.”

“Then let’s clear this up right now. I release you from my employment and offer you the position of equal partner. There, does that suit you? We’ll split the profit from this one evenly.”

Josh eyed him up. “I thought Elowen asked you to come, not the king.”

“She did.”

“So, is there a bounty?”

Thadius grinned.

Josh closed his eyes. “What is half of nothing?”

“Much the same as what you have already, but at least you won’t feel obliged to ask my permission to go for a walk. I’ll be honest. I don’t think you need permission to do anything now. Smeeks witnessed you taking down eight armed thugs, killing at least two, and walking away unscathed. His intervention saved them, not you.”

“Are we sure it’s not him that arranged it?” Arabella asked.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Josh said. “We go and meet him.”

Smeeks sat on his own, the large table conspicuous by the empty chairs. Josh hesitated, composing, before he walked through the bar and sat opposite the man. The sheriff sat back, balancing on his chair’s rear legs. He wore a smirk like it was a fashion accessory and regarded Josh for a moment before falling forward and jumping up. “The delightful Arabella and the esteemed Thadius Extrael. Welcome to my table. Eat and drink whatever you want. If they have it, it is yours. Although, I’ve ordered steaks—a request from Mr. Underwood. I hope that’s to everyone’s liking. If not, speak up now.”

Thadius regarded him cagily. “I hear that you might know who attempted to kill Josh earlier.”

“Straight to the point, Thadius. I like that in a man. Yes, yes, I do, but first, I want to thank you for your insight yesterday. Sadly, my men found little trace of Gort and Krill. They did locate the spot you talked about. Even found a load of blood splatter in the bushes, the remnants of a campfire, a boot, and a belt. Alas, no corpses—scavengers, no doubt. Gort would have made a fine meal, but I’d hazard a guess that Krill was a little on the stringy side.” He rubbed his hands together. “Here comes the ale! I have a thirst on me. I’ll bet you have to, eh, Underwood?” He shadow-punched the air. “A good fight normally gives a man a thirst.”

“I’d have rather gone without,” Josh said, taking a mug from the waitress.

“As may be, as may be. Anyway, I was thinking how scary it must have been for you all to be camping just up the road from where that terrible fight took place, but then I saw Josh fighting, and now I doubt you lost a moment’s sleep on it. Strange thing was, my boys went quite a way along that road and couldn’t find a second campsite—no fire pit or anything.”

Thadius sat. “That, Smeeks, is because I have woodcraft. I leave the forest exactly as I would wish to find it. It’s one of the reasons I am welcome in the elven lands. I respect their habitat, and they respect my right to live.”

Smeeks slow-clapped. “Very noble. Very noble indeed. Well, that clears that up. We can put that behind us now. So, to other matters. Tell me, Josh, why do you think I would have you jumped by eight fools when a crossbow bolt to the forehead would have been so much more reliable?”

Chapter Seventeen

“YOU MIGHT HAVE A BETTER chance with a crossbow,” Josh replied as he regarded Smeeks across the table. “The standard of thug around here is quite poor. Are they all made from wet cookies?”

Smeeks laughed. “Wet cookies? No, not all. The thugs you encountered on the bridge are probably the worst. But then again, if you pay shavings, you get fools. I'm amazed they had the brainpower to trap you. Must have been luck. They haven’t got the foresight to plan anything.” He paused, his gaze blanking over. “At first, I thought Frogatt had lured you there, but that's not his style.”

“I'd kind of thought he'd baited me there. I was going to pay him a visit tomorrow and see what he had to say for himself.”

Smeeks shook his head, screwing his face up. “Two reasons for not doing that. Firstly, you might catch something from that hovel he lives in. Secondly, he's harmless. He latches on to any stranger and tells them the same old story. We've warned him about it, but beatings, running him out of town—nothing works. He strolls back in, sets himself back up in some abandoned shack, and starts over.”

“Sets himself up?” Thadius asked, suddenly perking.

“Man's mad,” Smeeks said, looking up. “Ah, here's our meal. I hope you like your steaks a little bloody. I find it melts in the mouth if cooked lightly. Is this what you had in mind, Underwood?”

It was precisely what he had in mind. The barmaid set the platter down, and Josh's eyes bulged. “That's got to be an inch thick!” he exclaimed, forgetting Smeeks was his enemy. The meat sat on a wooden board sizzling, a thick, fatty rind nicely charred and bloody gravy oozing from the succulent flesh.

“Don't serve them like that in the city, eh?” Smeeks said, being way too ordinary for a bad guy.

“This is all very nice,” Arabella said, “but if they weren't your thugs, then whose were they?”

Smeeks carved a chunk from his steak, holding it up on the point of his knife. “A good question, answered by more questions, these ones directed at you, Arabella. Why would I want to start a war with the Underwoods? Ask yourself that. Also, have I got a beef with your father? I'm the sheriff here. Surely the help of the legendary Thadius Extrael would be welcomed rather than shunned? I'm a simple man, Arabella. I have no desire to face off against a sixty-foot-high stone monster. Your father's presence and that of Calico Rayne saves me or Turnic petitioning the king, and whose coffers do you think the payment comes from if the petition comes from the local government? It certainly isn't his or Seymour’s. So, ask yourself this: Why would I be anything less than welcoming?”

Josh had to admit that Smeeks made a damn good point. “So, why so frosty last night?”

Smeeks popped the steak in his mouth, chewing slowly. “A lack of courtesy got my goat up. An Underwood appearing on my patch without so much as an agreement? I wasn't to know you weren't active in the family business, was I? Thadius Extrael coming to my little village hell-bent on killing my monster—another slight! That sort of thing should be done in consultation, not as some partisan act. What if we want the monster? What then?”

“Why would you want a monster?” Arabella asked.

Smeeks cut another lump from his steak. “In this case, it's not really a monster, right? It's a statue—an attraction. People visit this place to see it—see the ruins and dig for treasure. But more importantly, some spend their money in this tavern, rent rooms, and use the blacksmith, the cobbler, and the seamstress. They feed off each other—the adventurer might buy a potion from the alchemist, the alchemist might employ some gatherers, and the gatherers will spend their money in the tavern. Do you see where I'm going with this?” He stabbed his knife into his board, narrowly missing his steak. “Courtesy, that's all it is.”

Josh didn't quite know how to respond. He'd hated Smeeks since the man first approached their table, but he had to admit, he had a point. Not that Josh was at fault. After all, he had no clue what an Underwood was. Fortunately, Thadius spoke.

“It wouldn't be the first time we've run afoul of a local economy. Even the worst beasts have some redeeming points.” Thadius attacked his steak. It was like each man was using the carving time to think. “You are right. I should have sent word ahead. Perhaps Elowen might have let you know we were on our way. As to what we are here for, well, it appears it will be more research-based than actual fighting. After all, there's no sword sharp enough to stab a stone beast. Besides, Calico has applied and will get a warrant. He has a wizard coming to purge the site. It appears your anger should be directed his way.”

“It should. He will ruin Elrima. I might have to get the witch to curse it again—get the superstitions turning once more. Then—” he cut another chunk of steak ”—burn her to death. That usually draws a crowd.”

“You can’t do that!” Arabella said.

Smeeks laughed. “Why not? I’m the sheriff, and she’s a witch. No one will miss her.”

“It’s—” Arabella made to say, but Smeeks stopped her.

“I won’t burn the witch if you stop Calico salting the ruins—there. How about that for a deal?”

“You know I haven’t got the power to do that!”

Smeeks chuckled again. “I think you have the power to get any man to do whatever you wish.”

“Has the colossus moved?” Josh asked, wanting the subject changed.

“Moved?” asked Smeeks.

“Frogatt reckons it's moved.”

“Frogatt would say that. He's a conspiracy peddler. Without a conspiracy, he's nothing. But why ask me? If anyone knows anything, it would be the lovely Elowen. Such a waste.”

“Hardly,” said Thadius. “She is already the best in her field. She knows more about the people who used to roam this land than most. Although Cassandra seemed to know a bit.”

“Then ask her,” said Smeeks. “I am the sheriff. I'm no sorcerer. I've never been to a fancy university. You want to know if the stone beast's moved. Ask her, not me. My only interest in that place is to keep the money rolling in. Perhaps even screw a decent amount out of an adventurer—tight-fisted bastards. You mess that up, Extrael, and I'll be arming my men with crossbows, Monsters Slayer or not, Underwood or no Underwood. Do I make myself clear? The only one I can’t touch is the Kingsman, but he might have a nasty accident. We have snakes here, you know—nasty bastards.”

“Crystal clear,” said Thadius. “But tell me—indulge me. Say there is an evil presence in those ruins, and Calico misses it. What would you have me do?”

Smeeks finished his last piece of steak, washing it down with a large draught of ale. “I don't care. There's nothing wrong with a little evil. Everyone has some in them. Fix the rot if you must, but leave the mystery in place. Solve it—remove it from the ruins, and half this village would starve by winter; the rest wouldn't last a year. This place would be emptied, dead, defunct. That’ll happen over my dead body.”

“But the land might be a safer place,” Thadius said.

Smeeks slammed his knife into the table again. “I don't give a fuck about the land. It doesn't put food on my table. Calico doesn’t. The king doesn't. Seymour doesn't, either. This is my town, Thadius. You play by my rules here, or you die. Simple as. Do we have an understanding?”

Thadius rose, but slowly, his response measured. “The needs of your table are noted. But, and you can fetch your weapons now if you wish. If I find a threat to the land—if I find any malignance at all—I will put it down no matter what the consequences. Do I make myself clear?”

Smeeks scowled. “You do. But if I disagree with it, we have a problem, and my problems don’t last long. I have matters to attend to. Enjoy your meal, and tread carefully, Thadius Extrael. That goes for you, too, Underwood. Don't forget. If something happens to you, the lovely Arabella becomes a free agent again. That's a motive your family would understand, and I'd walk away without blame.” He dabbed his mouth with a cloth, dropped it on his board, and left.

Thadius sat and continued eating his steak, pausing to say, “Well, that went better than expected.”

“How so?” Josh asked.

“Yes, he did everything except declare all-out war on us,” Arabella said.

“Exactly. He didn't. He drew lines. I drew lines. If either of us crosses them, then we have an issue. If we don't, we skirt each other until this ends. Josh, how's your numbers going?”

“On nine. I have to get to ten to get Iron Apprentice. My durability's there already—that's at sixteen. My combat instinct is close at eight, but the other two are lagging behind.”

“Then, if you're up for it, we'll perform another trial on the way to Cassandra's tomorrow.”

“Dad! We said we wouldn't. We said we'd find another way.”

“We did. But it's Josh's choice. To my mind, the only way to get his combat instinct up is to fight. It's unfortunate, but it's where we are. You heard him. It helped against the thugs, but was lacking.”

“I'll do it,” Josh said. “I reckon I might be able to take a bear if I had a spear, at least.”

Thadius glanced at him. “Only if you're sure. Don't let that other matter cloud your judgment. You've shown me enough. To my mind, you're already an Iron Apprentice. We just need your stats to confirm it.”

Already an Iron Apprentice? Does that mean he's giving me his blessing to bone Arabella?

“No,” Josh said, “we do it. There's no way to cheat. I'm pretty positive about that. But if Cassandra has pain-numbing potions, I'm all in on those.”

“Then, I suggest you both meet Carl at his warehouse at first light. You can get a good hour or two of swordcraft before we leave. I'll ready the wagons and get you some breakfast.” He finished up. “Well, I'm off to bed. There's something about the southern air that makes me worn out.”

Josh finished up his meal. “Did your dad just give us permission to—”

“I think so. Not that I need it.” She pushed her platter away. “That's an equal partnership he's given you and his permission to screw his daughter. Not bad for one day.”

“I've had better,” Josh said, barely keeping a straight face.

“You have not!” she said, grabbing his hand. “Come on. Time to up a different attribute.”

“That attribute's already rising,” he said with a grin.

As Arabella climbed the ladder up to their bedroom, Josh lingered behind, watching her ass, wondering what he'd done to deserve such a perfect girl. He'd known she would be ideal for him since the first night. She was sweet, unassuming, fierce when she had to be, loving when she wanted to be, and very soon, she'd be his.

It was a massive turnaround for him. He’d been lost, running from life, and just going through the motions—for too long. And yes, most of that was two lifetimes ago, but with the immersion considered, it was only a week, ten days tops. Thadius and Arabella had made his transition to this new land so seamless that he'd slotted in without breaking his stride. What had been awakening to a crazy new reality in an unknown land had quickly become the best life he could have dreamed of. All because he had some courage to face pain beyond what most people could in order to succeed.

Courage was, in his opinion, another number the ring should be monitoring because every time he'd raced in without fear, it improved his life.

He grabbed the ladder, climbing, his legs shaking and nerves swimming in his stomach. But when he poked his head through the hatch, all his nerves fled, replaced by a rush of desire.

Arabella stood in the middle of the room. She'd undressed and was naked by the bed. Her body was perfect, breasts just right, wonderfully proportioned. Those curves, man, those curves!

“I can't believe I'm nervous,” she said. “How can I be? We've already messed about quite a bit.”

“I am, too,” Josh admitted. “Or I was until I saw you standing there. Never in all my life would I have thought I could have had a woman as beautiful as you.”

“You must have had plenty of girls before,” she said, walking up to him as he climbed out of the hatch.

“Yes,” Josh admitted. “But I was awkward. Hell, I was normal. Here, I'm the luckiest man in the world.”

She grabbed his shirt's collar, pulling him close. “Then we're the same, because I have to be the luckiest girl in all of Mythelore. I could have settled for someone ordinary, but instead, by pure chance, I got you.”

She kissed him, her lips soft at first, then pressing hard as she forced her body against his, her groin rubbing against his pants, his straining erection desperate to break out.

“I'd already decided to have you tonight,” she whispered, breaking off. “Just watching you fight, watching to overcome those thugs, got me so hot.”

Pushing him away, she knelt, pulling his pants down, letting his cock spring free. “The way you obliterated them. I wanted to run out there and have you on the bridge. I wanted you to bend me over the wall and fuck me senseless.”

“Oh baby, yeah. I could do that.” Josh couldn’t take his eyes off her as her mouth hovered by his quivering cock.

She grabbed him, holding his length temptingly close to her mouth. “I wanted you to ram me so hard that I'd beg you for mercy. I wanted you to bring your full power out, slamming into me until you flooded me. I imagined you filling me up as I screamed out your name for the town to know.”

“I'm gonna do that. I’m gonna do that right now.”

“No, you’re going to wait a bit. I need to enjoy a few moments here.”

She parted her lips, sliding them over his cock, sucking gently. He held his breath, wanting more, wanting to fuck her just like she'd said—wishing to satisfy his raging passion, to bend her over and drive his dick into her.

But he was desperate to see her how he’d imagined her, to hover over her as she lay under him. He tried to pull away, needing to lay her on her back, spread her legs, and take her, but she grabbed his ass, holding him in place, sliding up and down him, teasing his end with the back of her throat.

He became lost, his world becoming her lips as they glided back and forth, her tongue working his crown. “Yeah,” he said, the word spilling from him, the first drops of precum leaking. “You better stop soon, or I’m gonna spoil the party.”

She let go, and he seized the moment, bending, lifting her, carrying her to the bed, and then tossing her into the middle. She spread her legs wide as she grinned and licked her lips. He quickly joined her, positioning himself, knowing their moment was close.

“Oh baby, I've been dreaming of this.”

“Me too. Fuck me, Josh,” she said, and he slid in, gasping at her heat, her wetness, the rippling sensations passing along his cock.

He held for a moment, wanting to savor her pressure, to root himself in her. She lay there, her arms above her head, her gaze far away, as if grounding herself, readying for the onslaught. Dipping his head and kissing her breasts, he took her nipple in his mouth as he finally withdrew.

“Please look at me,” she said. “I want to see your pleasure in your eyes. Keep looking at me. I want to feel you cum as the pleasure overtakes you. I want to remember it forever. Our first time, our very first time.”

Josh didn't answer as he lifted himself above her so they could gaze into each other’s eyes. He thrust back into her, pushing her up the bed. She grabbed the mattress, bringing her legs up, crossing them behind him, and trapping him.

“I can do whatever you want me to,” he said.

“Then fuck me. Cum in me while you look into my soul through my eyes. Don't worry about anything else.”

He focused on her; how beautiful she was under him finally. He thrust in and out, looking at her, reveling in her emerald eyes, the feel of her breasts against his chest, and her silken pussy. Each thrust into her sent a wave of pleasure washing over both of them. He focused on his task of pleasuring them both, wanting to cum, to give her what she wanted. Her cheeks reddened, breaths coming in shallow gasps as she turned her head one way and then the other.

“Fuck!” she cried, “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” She gritted her teeth, a long, drawn-out squeal following. “That's it! That's it!” she cried.

Angling himself, thrusting up to the roof of her vagina, he hit his rhythm, his strokes even, slick. His senses came alive. The smell of her arousal as her first climax hit her filled his lungs. The joy in her eyes spurred him on. He forced himself to speed up, to grind into her harder and harder. His pleasure grew, and his control started to fade.

Josh's world collapsed. Only her moans and his cock mattering. She let out a sharp cry, then a whimper as another orgasm washed over her. “That’s it, baby. That’s it! That’s it!” he cried and pushed himself into her.

She felt so wonderful as her channel spasmed, begging him to let loose. His balls cramped, cum welling but not waiting, racing through him to explode into her.

She screamed, “Josh!” as she went rigid and jerked while his cock pulsed, rinsing his balls of the last of his cum as he streamed into her. They were locked together in a moment of bliss, sharing their joy and pleasure.

All too soon, she released the breath she’d been holding and relaxed a moment before he sagged, his arms giving way, and finally collapsed beside her. She turned her head to face him, breathing softly, calming.

“That was worth the wait,” he said.

“We've only known each other a few days,” she pointed out, snuggling into him.

“Yeah, but it's like my life's only just started.”

Chapter Eighteen

JOSH WOKE WITH RENEWED RESOLVE. Arabella lay in his arms. She was his now, and he had responsibilities to her. There wasn’t a single part of him that would let her down. He was strong—the fight had shown him how strong, and he would get even more powerful. It was up to him to protect Thadius, too. The man might have been a slayer once but was past his prime. If Josh had to take on bears and wolves to advance, then that’s what he’d do. If it meant training from dusk until dawn, then he’d do that. There was more to the ring than met the eye, and he was determined to wring every advantage it had out of it.

They hadn’t considered what might happen when he graduated from Bronze Initiate to Iron Apprentice. It was plausible that some form of evolution might occur—that there would be a reward. It wasn’t easy leveling up. Sure, he’d increased his attributes, but each had cost him dearly. The price had been pain, and lots of it. But he was willing to pay it over and over if that meant he could keep his princess safe.

He quietly got out of bed, pulling his pants on. The first sunrays brushed the village, its deserted road, and the surrounding wall. Thadius might be right. He may need to be in mortal danger to advance his numbers, but that didn’t stop him from getting into shape.

Pecking Arabella on the cheek, he whispered, “I’m going for a run,” and pulled his boots on and left.

His reasoning was solid. This was his new life. While it overawed him a little, he’d been lucky. That luck wasn’t going to last. He had to make his own. If the ring helped him with his strength, then he’d support it by getting stronger. If it helped his agility, he’d get back to his yoga—focus on his stretches, whatever it took, and if he needed to suffer, then so be it.

The residual feeling from beating the fuck out of those eight goons still thrived in him. The sense of power, dominance, and the level of surety it had given him were addictive. He wanted more. He’d been the hero. He’d gotten the girl. It was every bit as good as he’d always dreamed it might be.

He slid down the ladder, raced out through the courtyard, and ran, but he didn’t just run. He raced as fast as he goddam could. He sped over the bridge, taking its back half with a mighty leap. He flew through the village, coming to the wall, then running along its inside, following it all the way around, jumping discarded crates, hurdling barrels and broken buckets, and coming to the river. He didn’t break his stride, jumping, his trailing foot catching the bank. He stumbled but carried on, picking up speed, his lungs gasping for air. He reached the back of the tavern, was past that in the blink of an eye, and quickly hurdled the river, then came to the road again.

“One!” he said and raced on.

His breath became ragged as his lungs searched for oxygen. His muscles screamed for respite, but grim determination had hold of him. Thoughts of Thadius and Arabella—his new family—raged through him in a torrent of motivation. The need grew inside him, a force he’d never felt before. He had to protect her—protect his Arabella, and Thadius came part and parcel of that package.

“Two!” he said, teeth gritted, spitting foam, as he completed another circuit.

His stride lengthened as his body accustomed to his pace. He cleared the river easily, his head up, arms pumping. The pain in his legs vanished as a warm sensation flowed through him. What had at first seemed like break-neck speed became an easy trot, so he sped up, going as fast as he possibly could.

Three became four, and four became five, and as the sun finally clawed and yawned its way over the horizon, he reached twenty and turned back up the road, leaping the whole bridge and slowing as he came to the courtyard. He stopped, expecting to be out of breath, but felt nothing but a warm glow. His chest glistened with sweat as he inhaled, reveling in his new strength—his new body—his new feeling of absolute vitality.

“There you are,” said Arabella. “I thought—”

He didn’t let her finish. Instead, he grabbed her cheeks and brought her lips to his, kissing her passionately. “I’m going to get even stronger for you. I’m going to make the most of every advantage this ring gives me and protect you and your father and anyone else who comes into our family.” He dropped to one knee. “This I vow to you, my love.”

Before she could answer, Thadius’ voice rang out. “Well, you can start by getting to Carl’s and learning how to use a sword.”

Josh stared at Arabella, his eyes flitting to Thadius and straight back. “Do you think he heard that?” he whispered.

“I think so,” she whispered back, barely containing her laughter.

Josh grinned, getting to his feet. “You weren’t meant to hear that.”

“Hear what?” Thadius asked, his lips twisted into a smile.

They walked hand in hand over the bridge. Josh pulled Arabella onto the parapet. “Remember what you wanted me to do to you here?” he said.

“Oh, I do, and I’m going to hold you to it.”

“You know, I think I’m going to love being in love with you!”

“You better believe it.”

“Where is Carl’s place, anyway?”

She pulled him down a pathway leading along the riverbank. “Right here.”

Carl sat outside a barn; its door open. A dozen chickens milled around him, pecking at the ground as he sprinkled seed. “Bright and early. Was that you running rings around the village earlier?”

“You saw?”

“Hard to miss. If it’s a nice enough night, I sleep on the roof. It's peaceful up there, less stuffy and stinky. I was enjoying the peace and quiet when some fool started clattering around the perimeter like a bull was chasing him. Still, at least you’re all warmed up. What about you, Arabella?”

“I had a lay-in.”

“Wise. Are you ready to practice?”

“Not sure the sword’s my weapon. I prefer a bow.”

Carl wagged his finger at her. “I’m sure you do, but if you’re serious about following your dad, you should listen to him. Sometimes, beasts break the range down to melee. You don’t want to rely on your arrows, then.” He sucked his cheeks in. “But you might be right. A sword might not suit you. Let me think.”

The barn was mostly empty, with a few hay bales stacked in one corner, a stable, a drinking trough, and little else. Carl had laid a square of white stones around twenty feet long in the center and placed a bucket in two corners. “You ever used a sword?” he asked Josh.

“Never.”

Carl paused, then walked over to a bag, taking out two steel swords. “Then why did Thadius insist I train you with real blades? You could get seriously hurt if I make one slip-up.”

Josh took one of the swords, testing its edge and cutting his thumb. He hid it in his fist as it glowed and healed. “He likes me getting hurt. Says it makes me stronger. Plus, I heal fast, real fast.”

The door creaked shut behind them, the light dimming. “What you are about to witness, Carl,” said Thadius, “goes no further. If it does—if I find out you have put my family in danger—I will let Josh dispose of you like he did three of eight thugs who attacked him on the bridge last night. And take note. It was only three because Smeeks stopped it.” His ensuing smile was thin. “Do I make myself clear?”

“You know I’m on your side, Thadius,” Carl said.

“I wasn’t aware I had a side. However, I’m sure you’d be on both it and the other side if I did. And I mean that with no disrespect. If I were you, I’d do exactly what you're doing. But and I stress this again, what you see in these four walls stays here. So, no holding back. Cut him if he misses. Slap him if he leaves an opening, but teach him the basics and teach him quickly. Josh will make enemies quickly in this world. Folks always like to bring down a hero.” He walked over to Arabella. “I brought some broth. We may need it. Oh, and try a hand-axe. You are correct. It will suit your style much better than a sword.” Thadius set the pot down, backed away, and sat on a hay bale.

Carl looked a little shaken but stepped into the square, his eyes blank as he assimilated Thadius’ words. Josh’s eyes gleamed with the raw excitement of a fledgling adventurer beginning a new path. The sword in his hand felt heavy and unfamiliar, its blade of silver steel sharpened to a glint. He held it like a piece of glass, precious yet dangerous, his grip tentative, like he half-expected it to snap in his hands.

Carl snapped out of his numbness, his focus honing in on Josh. “Quit gripping that blade like it’s Arabella. It’s a sword. It’s not fragile. Hold it firmly. Hold it like you mean it.”

A snort of a breeze whispered through the barn. Josh mimicked Carl, holding the sword up and gripping it hard. But though he knew nothing more than any novice swordsman, a feeling that he wasn’t alone in his quest to learn, that another inside him watched Carl, suddenly grew.

Carl attacked; his motions a fine blend of experience, each swing a tribute to years of practice. Josh’s first counters were awkward, only meeting Carl’s by the skin of his teeth. Carl’s strikes flowed like water, whereas Josh’s were erratic, jerking, ugly things. Carl danced from foot to foot without any effort. Josh moved as if caught in a nightmare, his steps clunky and uncertain.

But he slowly began to mirror Carl’s movements—not with the same grace, far from it, but with a hint of rhythm, until he matched his strokes more easily.

“Steady!” Carl barked; his patience thinner than the blade in his hand. “A sword’s an extension of your hand. Let it flow from your arm. Don’t fight it. Fight with it.”

They continued. Each stroke clarifying something within Josh. Each parry, each thrust and slash, analyzed, cataloged, and stored in a way Josh couldn’t possibly do himself. But when needed, he called on it instinctively without even knowing he was doing it. His fingers tightened around the hilt, knuckles whitened, as he fought to match Carl, who, in turn, fought to keep his dominance.

Carl increased his speed and range of strokes, feinting, using cross cuts, reverse cuts, flourishes, and even a hewing cut, but while Josh’s defenses were ragged at first, they soon tightened. Carl reddened, his breaths becoming heavy. Sweat dripped into his eyes. He grimaced, then his face flushed. He knew he was fading. Carl launched a furious assault on Josh, deploying every type of attack in his arsenal and ending in a throat cut that finally broke through Josh’s stoic defense. Josh leaned away, deflecting the blade enough to turn it away from his throat, but Carl’s blade slipped into his shoulder, passing through it with ease. The weapons master yelled triumphantly, but then the blood drained from his face as he pulled his sword out.

“For fuck’s sake!” Josh yelled. “Why is it always this shoulder?”

Arabella rushed to him. Carl crouched by him. “I must fetch a doctor.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Thadius said, throwing Arabella a towel. “This is the part you tell no one. After one lesson, his ability with the sword should encourage you to keep that silence. After all, imagine fighting him in ten or twenty days.”

Carl backed away; his mouth open. “Is it witchcraft?”

Josh’s shoulder glowed blue. Arabella held the towel to his wound. “Hold it there, Josh.” She retrieved the broth, removing its lid and spooning some into his mouth.

“This was his first time holding a sword? Are you sure he’s telling you the truth?” Carl said.

“I am certain of it,” Thadius replied. “Yes, there is magic at work. I can reveal that much to you. I can also promise you that he will use his gift for good, but I cannot promise you it will always be that way. I don’t know what the future holds for him. What I can do now is rescind all my threats.” Thadius pulled the towel away to reveal Josh’s mostly healed shoulder. “If you choose to talk about what you’ve seen here, then you will become Josh’s enemy. That is the choice you have. Two paths. Friend or enemy. Choose wisely.

Meanwhile, Josh’s mind blanked, and a familiar voice sounded inside his mind.

Basic attributes deemed inadequate

Basic senses deemed adequate

Working on solutions to enhance existing attributes

Strength–adequate

Speed and agility–poor

Durability–poor

Combat instinct - poor

Assessing requirements to protect the host

Upgrading speed and agility

Speed and agility +1

Upgrading durability

Durability +1

Upgrading combat instinct

Combat Instinct +1

New Score =

Strength = 6

Speed and Agility = 7

Durability = 17

Combat instinct = 9

Average = 9.75

Senses

Intermediate intuitive hazard detection - passive

Rank = Novice Enforcer

Tier = Bronze Initiate

Title = Bronze Initiate of the Novice Enforcer

Applying changes

Chapter Nineteen

THADIUS DROVE the wagon through the gates. Josh sat back and relaxed. He'd wanted to run alongside and see if he could boost his speed or, at worse, build his muscles up, but he also wanted a chat with them both. The whole sword thing had muddled his brain, and he needed to clarify what had occurred.

“We're out of earshot now, Josh. Why not tell me what's on your mind?” Thadius looked straight ahead, avoiding eye contact.

“You saw,” he said.

“I did, as did Arabella, but that's all we did. We didn't experience it like you. Unless your people are exceptionally fast learners, something happened in that barn, and it was either a tremendous fluke or a miracle.”

“Well, I can tell you one thing. I'm no fast learner. Don't get me wrong, I was no slouch either, but I was a middle-distance runner when it came to academic achievement and sport.”

“It was the ring?”

“It had to be.”

“Then speak, man, speak! You don't have to bottle it up. You have a family now, and you'll have more people to share your dreams and worries with as that family grows. Get used to it.”

“Yeah, I know that, but you've got to understand that I have to put what happened into words to be able to talk about it, and it was weird.”

“Just try,” Arabella said, squeezing his hand.

“The ring learned. It was using my eyes to watch Carl. It analyzed everything he did, then put it and some improvements and—” He paused. “It injected that knowledge into me, and I knew what to do. But here's the thing. It happened instantaneously. I was a passenger. One minute, I knew nothing about sword fighting. The next, I was anticipating his moves. Sure, he beat me, but I saw that throat cut coming. Had he done it before, or if he tried it next time, I'd read it from a mile away.”

“Fascinating,” Thadius said. “You know what this means, don't you?”

“I think so.”

“It means you can become accomplished at any weapon given the correct tutor. Or—” he put his finger up “—Given a bad one, you would better him in moments. Fascinating.”

“I got three points, too. One in durability, which I'm guessing was because I took a sword to the shoulder. One in combat instinct which came from the fight. The speed and agility might have been the running, training, or both. Either way, that's three points without getting shredded.”

“The sword thing looked bad enough,” Arabella said.

“Yeah,” he said. “But it’s all fixed now.”

“If you’re gaining points that fast, perhaps we can skip the trial and go straight to Cassandra's place.” Thadius finally turned. “What do you think?”

“I think I'm like a drunk who's sank his first pint of the day.”

“You want more?”

“Damn right, I do. Just no more leeches. I'm running straight through those bastards without looking down.”

“There's just one thing,” Thadius said. “We part ways at the treeline; then you'll have to run to the elven bridge. The two don't meet until then. Are you sure?”

Josh ignored him. “Cassandra lives with the elves?”

Thadius shook his head. “No, no, no. We take the trail away from them. According to Elowen, we'll spot her house soon after. We had forded the river farther north on our way here, so we didn’t see it. Her dwelling is supposed to be quite unique.”

“I'd imagine.”

Unique was an excellent way to describe Cassandra. Elowen and the witch were opposites. Elowen was certainly the intellectual type, but she had that hidden fire that all academics had. Josh had already imagined rousing it—lighting the fire of her stifled passion. He imagined Elowen would make a passionate lover once unleashed, perhaps even more so than Arabella. The quiet ones were always the animals—at least, in his imagination. She was damn horny, too, and in a delightfully different way to Arabella. Where Arabella wore her heart on her sleeve, Elowen had the promise of hidden surprises.

Cassandra, however, was a whole different box of tricks again. She was obviously sexy, flaunting her breasts, tight ass, and crotch with clothes that left little to the imagination. To see Cassandra was to get an instant boner, and yes, she was a little annoying, but what woman who had it wasn't? It stemmed from confidence, from the knowledge that she was damn fine-looking. The question was, how sure was she on the inside? Sometimes, those women had fragile minds, the exterior a mere wall put in place as a defense.

Part of him wanted to tear it down and discover what lurked beneath. Wasn't that the fun of it all? But at the moment, they were dreams—he had no intention of shacking up with Cassandra or Elowen because he was happy with Arabella. But Arabella had said she wanted to share—to build a big family, and by the sound of it, Elowen was a shoo-in. Josh wasn't going to complain about that. On the contrary, he was looking forward to it happening.

Elowen would be invaluable to their monster-hunting team. She would slot in as the researcher and could be the first point of contact for quests and bounties. She could catalog their triumphs, analyze failures, help him with strategy, and plan takedowns. But they would need more.

Likening it to his old dungeon crawling games, Josh formed a picture of their team. While Elowen would be in the background, Arabella would be their ranged attack. He would play the tank, but with added melee skills. To complete the party, they would need a healer, a melee specialist, potentially a rogue, and, of course, a magician.

Could Cassandra be that magician, or was she too damn annoying? And could Elowen double up as melee? She'd boasted she had some skills, so it was a definite maybe.

The other thing that bugged him in his perfect plan was the part a healer would play. They'd race around the battlefield in the games, casting healing charms and infusing people with magic. But did magic work like that here? He doubted it, just like he doubted he had multiple lives. But then again...

“Potions,” he said. “Smeeks mentioned potion makers. What the hell are they? I know what potion makers are, but what do the potions do?”

“Elowen would know the local specialties better than I,” said Thadius. “But generally, they fall into three types. There are stamina potions—those that give you the oomph to go again when you're tired beyond belief. Then you have healing potions. Some clot blood on a wound, while others stop it from going septic, and lastly, some give you the strength to speed up the healing process. But there are others—sustenance potions, enhancement potions—you name it, there's a potion for it.”

“So, if you were putting a monster fighting team together, would you have a potion-maker along?”

“A monster-slaying team,” he corrected. “Interesting. A potion-maker, no. I'd go one better than that. I'd recruit an alchemist. An alchemist could make potions, poisons, and explosives. If I were putting together a team—which I have no intention of doing—I'd be looking up Harrogate Delaney. He's your man.”

“Harrogate Delaney is a hundred years old, Father.”

“He is not!” Thadius sighed. “But yes, if he's still around, he'd be slightly older than me. Probably dead—probably blown himself up. Didn't he have a son that went into the business?”

“Daughter—Melody. It has been a while since I've spoken to her.”

“Harrumph,” Thadius grunted. “Might be worth a detour at some point. See what she's up to. What other plans have you got for this team?”

“It's only a team in my head. Back in my world, we played games—dungeon crawling and the like. If I look at it like that, I'd be the tank—take all the punishment, draw the monster’s aggression, and wear the creature down. Arabella would be my ranged assault. Elowen is the researcher and the tactician. We'd need a sorcerer or witch, a healer, possibly a rogue, and a melee specialist.”

“Harrumph,” he said again. “Interesting. A monster-slaying team. Tank, you say? Explain a little more.”

“Someone who can take plenty of damage. The idea is the tank occupies the monster while the ranged, the magic dealer, and the melee all kite in and inflict damage, I mean wounds, on the beast, wearing it down.”

“This works?”

“On a screen. I've never done it in real life.”

“What's kite?” Arabella asked.

“It means you always stay out of range of the monster's attacks. So you'd shoot your arrows, then run if the monster gets too close to you. You take up another position, then shoot again. The swordsman would sneak up behind while the tank occupies it, stab and slice, then retreat before the beast turns.”

“I'm beginning to see it,” Thadius said. “It's pretty ingenious. A rogue? What's one of those?”

“Think assassin. Highly dexterous, able to pop up anywhere and deliver a fatal blow. Assassin, yes, think assassin.”

“The poor beast has no chance.”

“That's the thing about having a team—and having Elowen. If we prepare right for each encounter, then each team member will have their specific role, and they know exactly what they are doing. It makes it as straightforward as possible, and when all goes wrong, we adapt.”

“Yes,” said Thadius. “Monsters rarely behave.”

“I like it. I like the idea of a team,” Arabella said. “It'll be fun. We can all have a wagon each and form a caravan. We can circle them at night, have a big fire, and sing songs and stuff.”

Thadius grunted. “That's not the way you hunt monsters. You go off alone or with a good friend, live like a pig, get filthy, kill the monster, its blood and goo soaking you, then wander to the nearest tavern and get blind drunk for a week. That's how you should kill monsters.”

“I'll be honest,” Josh said. “Her way sounds better—apart from the drinking. I'm with you there.”

“Hmmph! Yes, well, the drinking was fun,” said Thadius. “Here we are—time for you to visit the leeches. Take care not to stir them up. It's a long way to the bridge and upstream.”

“That it? Not even going to tie my wrists to a staff.”

Thadius smacked his lips together. “No. I quite like you, and I think Arabella would like you to live until dusk at least.” He reached under his seat. “Take the hand-axe. If our friend the bear comes looking, it'll give you a slim hope of beating him. Oh, and don't forget, if you want to give up, the road is always east.”

“I'm not giving up. I'm going to make Iron soon.”

Arabella grabbed him, tears welling, and kissed him. “Don't do anything stupid.”

“I think that horse has bolted,” said Thadius.

Josh jogged across the pasture, coming to the dreaded bank where he'd collapsed. He half-expected to see a Josh-shaped outline in flattened grass with blood and dead leeches all around it. Not only had Thadius given him the hand-axe, but he hadn't taken his shoes, which hinted the old man really did care for him. Not that he had any reason to suspect he didn't. For a father talking to a man who wanted to bone his daughter at every opportunity, he was pretty relaxed. He was even on board with the whole multiple wives thing. But then, harems did appear to be part of the land's culture, so why should it be any different?

He decided to practice with the axe before he began his cross-country trek. If the ring could pick up sword art so quickly, there was no reason to think it couldn't help him with his axe craft.

Tossing it from hand to hand, he quickly became comfortable with it, measuring its weight, feeling the way its axe head sliced the air—trying to make it a part of him—an extension, as Carl had said.

He approached a tree, squaring up to it. “Right, let's see what you can do.”

He swung the axe, thumping it through the back and driving it in a few inches. “Not bad.”

Loosening his shoulders, he clicked his neck and drew the axe back again, but something compelled him to adjust his stance. He moved his right foot forward a little, then his left foot back. He angled his shoulders slightly differently and then struck, moving his whole body and completing the hit. He stepped back, leaving the axe buried in the tree, the head almost completely sunk in. “Well, what do you know? It does know a bit of axe craft.” He ripped it out, squared up, swapped hands, and struck again.

Each stroke became more silken, accomplished with less effort than the last, but each sliced deeper into the tree. He stood back and admired his handiwork, flipping the axe repeatedly, catching it with one hand and then the other, going higher with each throw.

“You're seeing exactly what I am, aren't you?” he said.

It was a feeling he'd had since sparring with Carl. He'd sensed he was learning with something else, or rather, alongside something else. Sure, they used the same eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, but his partner, the ring, assimilated much more information than he did, processed it, and spat it out in real-time. Therefore, he hadn't just been learning sword fighting. He'd been absorbing it. The art of sword fighting had become a part of him, and he knew everything Carl knew the instant the weapons master showed him. It wasn't just the blade work. It was all of it: stance, breathing, poise and muscle tension.

He stared at the ring. “Are you and me becoming one person?” The thought frightened him, but it also excited him. He’d been nothing on his own, but with this ring—with everything that came with it—he was Josh Underwood, Monster Slayer!

He flipped the axe again. “Time to run,” and before he could think too hard about leeches, he ran toward the river, jumped in, and started slogging upstream.

Fighting the current was hard work. Before he'd got to the first rapids, he was itching for a rest. He climbed onto a boulder, scanning the broad river for signs of a wolf or bear. Fortunately, there were none. But from his lofty vantage point, he did spy a shallower way next to the main channel. Racing up it, he began to feel reasonably confident he'd get to the elven bridge without incident.

Chapter Twenty

DAPPLED SUNLIGHT FILTERED through the ancient trees. Josh’s heart raced; his breath steady as the rhythmic murmur of the shallow river mixed with the forest’s rustling leaves. The riverbed, a spread of polished stones and bubbling shallows, was both his lifeline and a treacherous trail. Clutching his hand-axe, his knuckles as white as bone, his gut came alive with trepidation and the electric power that subconsciously pulsed from the alien ring.

The scent of damp earth mixed with the sun's warmth, creating an atmosphere tinged with promise and danger. The fleeting thought that all would be okay—that he’d make the elven bridge without incident—fled, replaced by the knowledge that his every step would be a gamble, a string of decisions that would dictate his survival. He jumped from the boulder, splashing into the river, fighting its current, reveling in the power it took to plow through its frothy water.

He quickly came to the first rapids, plotting a path without pause—his perception working in advance of his arrival. Each of his steps was sure, every reach manageable and planned to perfection. He jumped from one boulder to another, shimmied up narrow cuts, raging whitewater barely inches below him. A deeper pool of milling water waited for him at the top, and he waded through it, taking a drink as the surroundings sunk into him—the peace, the beauty, the lurking danger. The river quickened, became shallower once more, and he recognized the stretch—remembered the wolf and the bear, and his breath became faster as his perception reached beyond its limits in a bid to root out any danger.

Before his vision clouded with red mist, a guttural rumble sliced through the serenity of the day. The trees shook as the ground snapped and thumped, and undergrowth parted. Josh’s heart stuttered as his gaze met the amber eyes of a massive bear, its hulking form emerging from the foliage, fur as dark as night yet aglow with the sunlight’s caress. Time stretched; a heartbeat caught between two breaths as the two foes regarded each other.

With an involuntary shiver that raced through his body, Josh tightened his grip on the hand-axe. The bear’s muscles rippled beneath its fur as it advanced, a beast that knew only the language of instincts and survival. Its roars resounded like thunder, a declaration of dominance that echoed in the very marrow of Josh’s bones. The confrontation escalated in a rush of movement bordering on the surreal. Josh’s heartbeat drowned out the river’s song as his ring-born power coiled within him like a serpent about to strike.

“I’m ready for you this time, you motherfucker,” he growled.

And then, with a primal scream that merged with the bear’s thunderous roar, he charged.

His boots splashed against the shallows, his approach a chaotic ballet of footwork and fury. The bear’s claws raked the air, a deadly pattern of impending doom. The river’s current seemed to bend around them both as if shying away from the inevitable confrontation of the two titans.

The hand-axe gleamed like a beacon of intent as it cleaved a path through the air. Josh’s muscles moved with a synchronicity he hadn’t known was within him, every fiber of his being attuned to the axe’s rhythm. The axe swept through the space between them, a torrent of steel aimed for the beast’s flank.

But the bear wasn’t a simple beast. It was a force of nature, the living embodiment of survival. With a swiftness that belied its mass, it sidestepped the attack, its fur grazing the axe’s sharp edge. The world twisted as the axe’s trajectory altered, and Josh found himself stumbling forward, the momentum of his strike taking him dangerously close to the bear’s jaws.

Time seemed to fragment in that heartbeat, the bear’s maw a dark void poised to consume him. But the ring, Josh’s silent companion, pulsed. A surge of awareness raced through him like a tidal wave. He twisted, his body moving with otherworldly grace that belied his frugal training, and the bear’s jaws snapped shut with a deafening crack.

Pain seared through Josh’s side, a reminder that he might be getting stronger, swifter, and more deadly, but he still had his limits. Blood bloomed across his skin, an omen that victory, no survival, would command a hefty price. He staggered, his world tilting on its axis as he grappled with the throbbing agony.

Undeterred by its missed opportunity to finish the battle with one bite, the bear lunged again. Its paw swept through the air, claws sharp as scythes seeking to carve his fate into oblivion. Josh barely managed to sidestep, the claws grazing his side as he stumbled, the scent of his own blood mingling with the musk of the forest—the blood sending reminders downstream, the leeches readying.

With a renewed sense of urgency, Josh’s grip tightened around the hand-axe. His breath came ragged as he planted his feet, the river gushing around him, every muscle taut with determination. As the bear lunged again, he met its attack head-on.

His hand-axe sang through the air, its blade guided by a newfound prowess that transcended his own understanding. It struck true, carving through fur and flesh, the steel biting into the bear’s shoulder. The world seemed to freeze as the bear howled in pain, its agony a primal symphony reverberating through the air.

But the bear was far from vanquished even in its throes of pain. With a tumultuous swipe of its paw, it struck Josh with a force that sent him tumbling across the riverbed. Pain exploded within him as his agony drowned all else out. The river’s current picked up his momentarily limp body, slamming it against a boulder and tossing it into another. With a gargantuan effort, he rallied, grabbing a rock edge, forcing himself up, making him face his foe.

Josh’s vision blurred, his breath coming in spasms as he clung to the precipice between consciousness and oblivion. Blood seeped from his wounds, mingling with the water rushing past him. The river’s song was a melody, a reminder of the land he was teetering on the brink of leaving behind.

And yet, as darkness threatened to claim him, his resolve surged again. Whether it came from his abject refusal to have his new life ripped from him or whether it was the ring’s resolve—its need to survive, he couldn’t tell, but it coursed through his veins like liquid fire, knitting flesh and bone, stitching his body with defiance. With a gasp, he pushed himself upright, his breaths ragged yet defiant.

The bear, its fur matted with blood, its amber eyes a mix of rage and pain, advanced again. It was a dance to the death, a final duel that could only end in one victor. The river served as a poignant backdrop to the crescendo of their struggle.

In a clash that sent shockwaves through the forest, steel met flesh one last time. The hand-axe cleaved a furrow into the bear’s neck, the blade sinking into the beast’s throat; Josh’s stance perfect, his cry as loud as any God’s roars, his stroke completed with a pump of his fist as the axe was ripped from his grasp by the force, the utter brutality, of his strike. The bear’s roars faltered, its strength waning like dying embers.

Time hung suspended as the bear staggered, its gaze locked on Josh with unspoken acknowledgment passing between predator and prey. And then, with a thump and an almighty splash, the beast crumbled to the riverbed, its lifeblood mingling with the burbling water.

Josh stood, bloodied, battered, the bittersweet tang of victory in the air. The river’s shallow waters bore witness to his triumph, the land seeming to exhale as the echoes of battle faded. His breaths came slow and heavy—each inhale reminding him he had stared into the abyss and emerged a victor. He fell to his knees by his valiant foe and dipped his head in the racing water, rising, shaking his hair, and letting go an almighty cry.

He pulled out his axe and paused for a moment, wondering what he should do with the corpse. It was, somehow, irreverent to simply leave it there—a waste. In death, it appeared so weak, so incredible in life. The difference was breathtaking. It mimicked the change in him—he who had cowered before it not a few days ago was its victor. Was that all the ring’s power? Or was there some measure of his contribution? Some part of his dogged determination was to rinse everything from his new life and not waste an ounce of his newfound power.

It was both. He’d found the perfect partner twice in this land. Both the ring and Arabella fitted him. A sudden urge to close the distance between them grew. He glanced one last time at the bear, then ran upstream.

He sat upon the bridge’s wall. He’d pictured it as a wooden structure spanning a narrow valley, barely capable of carrying more than a few people at a time. So when he’d spotted the colossal stone structure from the river, it had taken his breath away. It spanned the river in one grand arch, the mortared stone light gray in color, the beds themselves neat and precise. Blue sky framed it, though that was dulling rapidly as dusk encroached. He’d had a long, arduous climb to reach the bridge’s top, and it had been a long day.

From his brief experience with the human folk of Mythelore, he knew the bridge couldn’t be their work. It might have been a disservice to the rest of the land, and Elrima may well have been a backwater, but the engineering involved pointed to something different.

It could be elven—that was the first possibility, or it might have been constructed by the ancient race that once dominated the region and had built the city by Elrima village. He had no way of knowing, but erred away from the elves based on Thadius’ brief description of them. He’d said they were a lore-loving race, and there was no doubt in Josh’s mind that blood, sweat, and tears had made the bridge, not some mystical hand waves.

Climbing to its lofty height afforded him a fine view of the valley. With his ring-enhanced vision, he could see to the ends of the forest, over the pasture, and just about make out the smoke hanging over the village. The only other visible thing of note was the black speck that was the colossus—the mystery of all. His gut told him that more than one mystery was at work in Elrima and that some long-dead sorcerer wasn’t the architect of the murders.

Upstream, the valley narrowed, the sides a mix of sheer rocks and brave trees clinging on for dear life. While he waited for Thadius and Arabella, he had a little look along the Elven Road but didn’t particularly fancy an arrow in the gut should they be as picky about their visitors as Thadius had hinted. He could, of course, walk to Cassandra’s dwelling. Thadius and Arabella might already be there, but his gut told him not. The river ran straight while the trail up—what he’d seen of it—twisted and turned.

He'd also had a pretty straightforward journey after he’d dispatched the bear. It was like nothing else fancied having a go at him. All of a sudden, he’d become the apex predator, and all else had scurried from his path. Which was fine by him—he had no wish for another battle like that.

He picked a few blueberries, sat, and waited, taking shelter under a large oak tree. He rested back against its trunk, stretched his feet, and waited. It seemed to him that the action of eating prompted his notifications. It was like he’d subconsciously programmed the ring to only disturb him when he ate. Perhaps the nanobots needed the sustenance. He doubted that. He’d eaten well the last few days. He settled on it being a safe time, popped one more berry into his mouth, closed his eyes, and awaited the ring’s verdict on the fight. He skipped through to his scores.

New Score =

Strength = 8

Speed and Agility = 7

Durability = 18

Combat instinct = 10

Average = 10.7

Senses

Intermediate intuitive hazard detection - passive

Rank = Novice Enforcer

Tier advancement requirements met

Current Tier = Bronze Initiate

New Tier = Iron Apprentice

Title = Iron Apprentice of the Novice Enforcer

Applying changes

Josh opened his eyes. He knew he’d been close, but hadn’t expected to get three increases. His combat instinct and durability had been likely candidates as he’d taken damage, and the bear had outwitted him. But his strength hadn’t been notably lacking unless the ring deemed his strikes weak. Or, he pondered, had it been fighting in water? Had that impeded his prowess? Either way, a grin spread across his face. He’d got it. He’d passed his first true level. Yet nothing had happened. There was no particular announcement other than the announcement itself.

“What a goddam letdown,” he said as his eyes closed and his body sagged.

Initiating upgrade.

Stage, Iron Apprentice reached.

Releasing bots.

Working on bone structure

Working on cardiovascular system

Linking nervous system

Hijacking neural network

Commencing Call to Arms.

Completing bone structure

Bone structure complete

Cardiovascular system complete

Nervous system linked

Neural network subjugated

Altering epidermis

Effecting enhanced strength

Strength does not qualify

Effecting enhanced speed and agility

Speed and agility does not qualify

Effecting enhanced durability

Durability score = 18

Changes Effected

Effecting combat enhancement

Combat enhancement = 10

Changes effected

Call to Arms assigned

Breastplate crafted

Call to Arms complete

Upgrade Complete

“Josh?” Arabella’s voice drifted through him.

“Josh?” It came again, but it was distant, like it had been carried to him by the wind.

“Josh, wake up!”

He wanted to, he really did, but he hadn’t the energy. Or had he? He hadn’t the energy he’d used to have; that much was certain, but there was energy in his body. He had to trigger it, to awaken it, but how?

He hunted for it as she called to him again, asking him to wake, pulling up his limp and lifeless body. Then he found it—he found the switch, the trigger that woke him, and the woman’s soft voice sounded in his mind once more.

Waking Iron Apprentice.

Chapter Twenty-One

HE OPENED HIS EYES, Arabella looking at him, Thadius lurking in the background. He had a hundred questions, but a third person hovered close, and it was her that spoke.

“Oh my, he's such a cutey. I hadn't realized quite how yummy he was.” She reached for his cheek, pinching his skin as her black hair draped onto his bare chest. “I could eat you up! Yes, I could!”

Josh had the sudden urge to punch her right in the face. It was over as quickly as it manifested, but it was a compulsion he knew would return. There was something about Cassandra Day that both intrigued him and made him squirm. Perhaps squirm was too strong a word, but the woman made him uncomfortable.

“You leave him alone!” Arabella snapped, slapping the witch's hand away.

“Arabella,” Thadius said, his tone urging caution. “Remember whose house this is.”

“As long as she remembers whose man Josh is.”

“Iron Apprentice,” Josh said, his voice croaky.

He was in one of those transition states where he wasn't sure if he was about to die or could run a marathon. It was akin to coming out of a long illness. He thought he was okay, but didn't feel right. Something had changed, and his mind inhabited a strange alien body, yet it was his. His bones were different. The way he felt things was magnified—the roughness of the blanket on his stomach, the feel of the pillow on the back of his head.

“Might I remind you he's in my bed at the moment?” Cassandra came into view again, resting her finger on his brow. “I'd say exhaustion. I have some embereley infusion somewhere. That should perk him up. Exhaustion, definitely exhaustion. Fancy running up the river! You could have encountered Bruce. He looks like a big, old, cuddly bear, but he's a ferocious thing. Kill you soon as look at you, would Bruce. Of course, he's a cutey when he comes around here. Likes a bit of honey, does Bruce, laps it right off my hand.” She vanished. “And I'm aware he's your man, Arabella. It's quite easy to spot, you know. Your big, green eyes give it away. Ah, the look of love, how I miss it!”

“Iron Apprentice,” Josh said again.

“Yes, Josh, we heard you the first time, but not everybody needs to know—if you get my drift. We can speak of it later.”

“Don't mind me, sweety,” Cassandra called over. “I can see something's happened to him. I'm not blind, you know.”

A metal spoon drifted across Josh's eyes and hovered by Thadius' head. It turned upward, the bowl of the spoon close to Thadius’ forehead. It hovered there momentarily, and then it smacked him.

“I've had plenty of time to hone my craft. Did you know there are particular branches of magic suited to a witch like me? I love metals—love them. So I can tell when someone's bones have been infused with some, and I can also sense it lurking under the same person's skin, specifically the chest area. So, keep your secrets if you want, but I might be able to unravel some of them.”

The spoon dropped to the floor, shattering the ensuing silence. Thadius paled, reaching for it and inspecting it. “You are a metal savant?”

“A wizard term, but yes, along those lines. So, do we need to chat?”

Even from his prone position, Josh could tell Cassandra's mood had altered from its usual carefree manner, and she'd become deadly serious. He pushed himself up, finding his body surprisingly okay. The strange feeling still lurked inside him, but it was more one of having gone through a terrible trial rather than being ill. He was washed out.

“What do you mean, I've got metal in my bones? How can you possibly know that?”

Cassandra brought over a vial of green fluid. “Here, sweety, drink that up; it'll help you overcome whatever ails you.” She handed it to him, then pulled up a chair. “Show me a rock, and I can tell you if there's metal in it. I can't see it as such. I'm unsure if I can smell it, but I'll know if it's there. But, and this might shock you, there are traces of metal in nearly everything, so it's not just its presence I can detect but its concentration. When I look at you, I see a skeleton weaved with metal. But here's the thing—it's no metal I recognize. It's no alloy used in this land. In fact, there's only one place I've detected this alloy before.”

“Where,” Thadius snapped.

She lifted Josh's hand. “This ring,” she said. “This ring holds an impossible amount of it, and I don’t use the word impossible lightly.”

Josh downed the potion. It gave him time to think. The thick liquid slid down his throat, nearly making him gag. It was akin to drinking a liquidized snail and sat in his gut like a lead weight. “That was disgusting,” he said.

“It is, but it works. A good potion isn't instant. It builds over time. But you have to remember, I'm no potion maker—I know enough to get what I need for my spells and such, but no more than that—bores the life out of me. Anyway, now my secrets are out in the open. We could discuss Josh's, or if you want to ignore the situation, we'll just get straight to the colossus.”

“I killed Bruce,” Josh said. “I killed him with a hand axe. He fought bravely, but I was too strong for him. I'm sorry.”

Cassandra fell silent. She reached for a chair, pulled it over, and sat. “You killed Bruce?” she asked. “Why would you do such a thing?”

Josh wanted to tell her how the bear had tried to kill him before, but that was an out-and-out lie, so he chose the truth. “I went looking for him, and when he attacked, I fought him one-on-one.”

“You've robbed the land of a great creature. Now, the wolves will fill the valley. They'll kill everything until another bear replaces Bruce. That is what happens when you kill monsters without thinking of the consequences.” She got up and walked to the dwelling's front door, leaving and shutting it.

The room was pleasant enough. He was lying on Cassandra's bed, which was central to the longest wall rather than tucked up in the corner, and faced a large window filled with the night sky. A table sat under the window, a single chair tucked under it. Pots and herb sprigs hung from the ceiling rafters, and glowing, red coals warmed the room from a stone fireplace. Baskets, pans and cauldrons spread across an untidy floor, while a dozen cages held birds and tiny mammals. None had doors on, the animals free to come and go as they pleased. It was homely, but clearly the home of a lonely person.

“I'll go to her,” Thadius said.

“No, I think that's my task. After all, I'm the one that killed her bear,” Josh said.

Thadius breathed a sigh of relief. “Can't say I envy you. She's a bit strange.”

“She's just lonely,” Arabella said. “I will go to her. You stay here and chat with Dad.” She paused. “Are you okay, Josh? We found you by the road. You were hardly breathing, and we feared the worst when we couldn’t wake you.”

“I ate some blueberries to see if I’d upgraded, but I didn’t expect the evolution. But look, I'm fine. She's right, though; something has happened to me. It did strengthen my bones.”

Arabella left, closing the door behind her. Josh told Thadius all that had happened, including his suspicions that the ring influenced his movements during the fight. Thadius paced the room, clearing a line in the mess with his boots as he passed.

“Let me think.” He raised his finger. “We know these levels are preparatory. It is clear to me now that what we are looking at is a gradual preparation of your body, that its sole intention is to make you strong enough to carry the ensuing upgrade.”

“So before, when I first slipped on the ring, I wasn't ready to be an Iron Apprentice because my body wouldn't take it?”

“Correct,” Thadius said. “I think what you've seen during the upgrade is an acknowledgment that your durability and Combat Instinct are ready and take the upgrade. Thus, something happened to your bones and skin, and it also speeded up your reaction times through this neural network upgrade—whatever the hell that is.”

“But it didn't upgrade my strength, speed, or agility because they hadn't reached the required score?”

“Exactly. The level is a permission. It allows the ring to improve whatever is ready. I suspect you'll see quite the difference because your durability is eighteen, whereas your Combat Instinct will appear the same. After all, it was only ten. But it is ready to be eleven, and that is the difference.”

“Got it. Although I think my strength, speed, and agility will catch up quickly. I feel like they are itching to increase.”

“They say nature likes to fill a void. Perhaps the ring acts similarly.”

“I killed the bear—it wasn't easy. In a few days, I've gone from fearing such a powerful beast to knowing I would win.”

“Which makes me wonder how far we can go with this,” Thadius said. “Still, we are avoiding the point at hand. What are we going to do about Cassandra Day?”

“Yeah, her. She knows something's up.”

“I have a feeling a few people do. Take Smeeks—he didn't say anything, but he witnessed you taking out eight men and hulking brutes at that. Carl knows but still thinks there's something sinister about you, so he won't talk. Our issue is that the number of people who know about you is already growing. We have to stop that somehow. We have to make you ordinary until you need to become extraordinary.”

“Cassandra?”

“I feel we have little choice. If we fob her off, then she'll gossip. If we tell her something, then there's a chance she might keep her mouth shut.” He scoffed. “Although it's a pretty big mouth to keep quiet.”

“So, we tell her?”

“We tell her something. Quite how much depends on how much she probes.”

The door opened, and Arabella walked in. “Josh, she wants to see you outside.”

Arabella had a strange look bordering on joy with a mix of sadness. She barely made eye contact as she walked up to him, but before they passed each other, she grabbed him and kissed him. “I'll be okay with whatever you decide.”

He scrunched his face, slightly confused by her words, but strode out anyway. The cold night air hit him, his skin alive, the sensation magnified by the upgrade. He shook his head, his mind finally clearing. Cassandra’s dwelling sat on the edge of a cliff, which explained the starry view from her window. She sat on a rock bluff to its side, her body framed by the low moon.

“You wanted to talk to me?”

“Come, sit,” she said. Her tone was sorrowful, defeated. Guilt ran through him.

“Look,” he said. “I'm sorry about the bear. I didn't—”

“It's not about the damn bear. The bear was nice. Hell, the wolves are okay, too. He's just another thing I've lost—another thing that isolates me further. I’m all alone.”

“You've got the village. You looked like you enjoyed it. Hey! You must be the center of attention. You’re bubbly, sexy as hell, and you’re a witch, so you’re doubly interesting. I’ll bet you’ve got them queueing up.”

“Pfft,” she said. “Most of them are scared of me—would be happier if I had some fatal accident. The rest? They don't want to know me. Think I'm some kind of freak. A witch isn’t the same as a wizard. Besides, I hear Smeeks is lining me up for a burning.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That’s sweet of you, but you won’t be here forever.”

“Couldn't you go to the city? Any city? Perhaps start over?”

“Me? In a city?” She laughed. “Oh, you are such a sweety. I wouldn't last a moment. Witches are reviled. Wizards? Now, there's another thing. Wizards are worshipped.”

“That doesn't make any sense.” He sat next to her, his legs dangling over the edge. “It's all magic, isn't it? Wizard, witch, what does it matter?”

“Are you aware how magic works here?”

“Not really, no.”

She glanced at him. “It's based on elements. Wizards call themselves harmonics, the pompous assholes.”

“Elemental magic? Like fire, water—that sort of thing?”

“Similar. There's air, water, rock and soil, fire, plants—it's the whole land, Josh—everything interconnects. Everything's a weave—thus, harmony.”

“So, what are you?”

She grunted. “I'm rare. There aren't many of me around. I'm a Ferrumerge. I can manipulate iron and all its alloys.”

“Just iron?” Josh said. “Don't get me wrong, manipulating anything sounds as cool as fuck.”

“I can influence other metals but am more comfortable with iron. I might have developed more talent if I’d been allowed to study, but stuck out here, iron and copper are about it. Who knows? If I'd been a man, then I'd have gone to the city and could have trained as a wizard.”

“So my bones are made of iron?”

“That's just it. I spotted your ring the day we first met. It called to me like iron does. When I see copper, it's a dull glow. If it's iron, it's a fiery cauldron. I can turn it off, but that's what I see if I look for it. Your ring was like looking into the sun. It was blinding. At first, I struggled, stumbled over my words, played for time until I could focus again. The same happened when I helped Thadius and Arabella carry you from the cart. All of you glowed—your whole body—a focused blue that blinded me.”

“Not iron?”

“Not iron, but I don't know what it is. I do know something, though. Your body is making the metal. There's so much more of it in you than before.”

“Ahhh.”

She ran her fingers through her lengthy, black hair, her breaths audible, her gaze fixed on the horizon. Josh could almost feel her gears going around as she battled with whatever conclusion she had agonized over. She exhaled, her shoulders sagging.

“Okay, I'm going to say this, and I'm going to regret it. Spin me a story. Any story you want, and I'll believe it. That's what I'll tell folks. Your secret's safe with me. I know what it's like to be different. I know the hurt it brings, and…”

“And what?”

“You’ve been nice to me.” She sniffled, tears meandering down her cheeks. “You called me sexy.”

It was Josh's turn to be silent, but eventually he got up. He held his hand out. “Come on, in you come. It's your home, and we're keeping you out of it.”

She looked up at him. “I'm not used to visitors. I don’t have much food or anything.”

“You and me are more alike than you think. Before I met Arabella and Thadius, I wasn't used to socializing much. I had a job and was traveling, but even though I was with some people, I spent a lot of time alone. Arabella and Thadius changed that. You'll find them easy company, so don’t sweat it, and we can sleep outside—it's not a hassle.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Have you decided what to tell me?”

“I have.”

“What?”

“Everything.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“SO YOU’RE FROM—” Cassandra pointed.

Her complexion was pale, much paler than before, and her mouth gaped open slightly. Lush, ruby lips parted in amazement. She stared out of the window in the direction of her pointed finger and blinked hard.

“There?” she finally said and fainted.

“Well, I think that went rather well,” Thadius said. “Although, in retrospect, I am rather glad I didn’t learn the truth all in one go. Perhaps we should have started her gently with the wizard and portals story. It’s far easier to grasp, then the transition to spaceships and snakeholes is much easier.”

“Wormholes,” Josh corrected.

“Wormholes to you, too,” said Thadius. “But on the whole, I thought she did very well indeed. Magical folk tend to accept the fantastic much easier than those without magic.”

“Shouldn’t we get a bucket of water and throw it over her?” Arabella said.

“Not very wise,” Thadius replied. “Magical practitioners as a whole are quite flighty. They tend to lean on their art instinctively. So, if you were to wake her like that, like as not, you might find yourself impaled by an ice shard the moment you do.”

“It’d be an iron shard,” Josh pointed out. “She’s a ferrumugist.”

Thadius shook his head. “Oh no, no, no. I’ll wager she’s more than that—just doesn’t know it. Ferrumurgy is a branch of Geomancy. She’ll have a bit of that about her.”

Josh stared down at Cassandra. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

“Absolutely fine. Pop her on the bed, and I’ll attend to the fire. Arabella, might as well break out the evening meal. Looks like we’re staying here until we solve the riddle.”

“What riddle?” Arabella asked.

“What to do with a witch that knows everything? That one. She’ll wake up with a whole new perspective on life. Josh has opened her eyes. He’s shown her how tiny this little land of ours is. She’ll not be happy here anymore, mark my words.”

“Well, she won’t want to come with us,” Josh said. “She doesn’t know the first thing about monster hunting.”

Thadius strolled to the fire, stacking some fresh logs on it. “Do you? Did you? You said you wanted a magicker. Is there a better one than a geomancer? There are three decent monster hunters in this realm. One is an asshole, and you’ve met him. The other was Elowen’s father, and I got him killed. Well, we got him killed together, if that makes any sense. So, if you’re looking for experience, you’re going to be looking for a long time. As I said, name me a better discipline than geomancer.”

Josh swept Cassandra up, her body incredibly light. He hadn’t realized how skinny she was—how malnourished. He doubted she’d had a decent meal in an age. “I wouldn’t have a clue. I don’t know what other types are available.” He rested her head on a pillow, then laid a blanket over the sleeping witch, brushing a stray hair from her closed eyes. She wore too much make-up for his liking. He wasn’t used to all the face paint, preferring a more natural look. But she did it quite well, the paint around her eyes giving her a devilish look, and her red lips, well, they got his imagination going. She was beautiful, but in a completely different way to Arabella. “If you know them, you could explain them to me while she sleeps. You’re right. We shouldn’t make any decisions based on impulse. We should get the magician we need.”

“We should do what?” Arabella asked, walking back in.

“We should pick a magician based on the school of magic we need,” Thadius said.

“What for?” she asked.

Thadius sighed. “For the monster-slaying team Josh is putting together.”

“Oh, so we’re doing that, are we? I thought you were dead against it on the way up here. What did you say? ‘Arabella, I will not allow—“

“I have reconsidered and think it a valid path. I only have so long left, and I shall happily spend my final days teaching you a craft. If you’re going to hunt monsters, you’re going to do it properly.”

“Oh,” said Arabella. “Well, if you’re coming too, you’ll have to get your own wagon. We can’t be all crammed into one.”

Thadius sat in the sole armchair facing the fire. “Trust me, if I’m coming, I’ll definitely have my own wagon. I’ll not put up with your fussing all night.”

“You love it, and you know it.”

“So, Josh, while Arabella dishes up, let’s talk magic. First, there are five grand schools—according to the wizards. There is Aeromancy. An aeromancer wields, not surprisingly, the air's power and can conjure gusts, breezes, and even tempests. They can create aerial currents to lift objects or themselves, manipulate weather patterns, and bend the very breath of the land to their will.”

“Well, that could be useful,” Josh said. “Especially the lifting objects.”

“Indeed, but it is probably the least impressive branch for us. My vote would be a firm no. Second is Hydromancy, and it’s another no from me. A hydromancer commands the ebb and flow of water, ranging from ripples to giant waves. They can purify, create, and manipulate water in all its forms, from summoning rain to creating ice walls. Again, handy if you have no other spellcaster, but there are better options for us.”

“Such as?”

“Well, third is Geomancy, but I’ll come back to that. Fourth is Pyromancy. Now, this is where things get interesting.”

“Fireballs,” said Arabella. “You can’t beat them or huge dragon-like blasts of red-hot flame.”

“Indeed,” Thadius continued. “A pyromancer channels the unyielding force of flame. They can conjure and control fire in all its ferocity. They can create an inferno, forge weapons with their breath, and unleash devastating attacks. One of them on board would help us exterminate all but those monsters immune to elemental attacks. A pyromancer would get my vote every time.”

“Okay, so we look for a pyromancer,” Josh said, but he glanced at Cassandra, surprised that he was disappointed, wanting her to join them.

“Hold that thought. Lastly comes Naturalism. This area of magic includes Floramancy and Faunamancy. I’m sure you can understand that this is a broad discipline. A floramancer can influence the power of plant life. Their magic embodies the intricate interplay between their specialty, plant life, and that of a faunomancer who can influence animals. The Naturalist embraces the holistic harmony of the world around them and often has animals as friends, even familiars. They are at one with nature.”

“Are we sure Cassandra isn’t one of them?” Arabella asked, looking around. “I mean, there are animals everywhere.”

“Indeed, but I’ll come back to that.”

“So, Geomancy,” said Josh. “What about that? Is that better than pyromancy?”

“Well, Geomancy is an odd one. On the surface, it doesn't sound very interesting. A geomancer has control over the strength of the earth, can shape rock, soil, or minerals. They can alter the terrain, create defensive barriers, even tap into the power of the land itself. So, considering that most of the monster battles you will fight will happen on dry land, it is invaluable. If a monster can’t stand, it can’t fight. Then add to that the ability to form a causeway, have stepping stones rise so you can cross a river, or how about a pit suddenly appearing and saving you from a chasing monster? Even that aside—look at a ferrumurgist. They could send a hundred iron-tipped arrows at a beast all at once or have a huge iron shard rise from the soil to impale it. Geomancy is incredibly versatile.”

“And you think that Cassandra might be a geomancer?”

“She might be. But let me ask you this. Do you think this rock bluff her home sits on is weatherworn to the exact size she needed? Or is the road up the exact width of a wagon by nature’s design? Why is the Elven Bridge in such a good state of repair even though it’s hundreds of years old? It might be a coincidence, but I doubt it's luck that this floor under us is as flat as a sheet of ice and perfectly level. I’ll bet she doesn’t even know she’s influencing the land around her because she’s never recognized the talent in herself. I think Cassandra is a geomancer. Then there’s all the pets and plants—a ferocious bear that eats honey off her palm—that smacks of a naturalist.”

“So you think she’s got two disciplines?” Arabella asked.

Thadius creased his face up. “That’s just it, from what I’ve been told and seen, I’m sure it’s either one or—” He got up, walked over to Cassandra, and stroked her brow. Then he faced them. “It’s either one or all of them. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was a Harmonic—and not the sort that city wizards call themselves. I think she might be a true harmonic, adept in all branches of magic, and there hasn’t been one of those born in a generation.”

They ate in silence. Josh digested Thadius’ words. Cassandra would be a huge addition to his party if his suspicions were correct, but they’d need to know. They had to find out. It would be too much of a waste if she had all that talent and it just lay there dormant. He mulled it, wanting to bring it up but also feeling that they’d talked about her enough. Any further discussion ought to include her. For all he knew, she wouldn’t want to join them, anyway.

“I vote we say no more until Cassandra wakes. It’s not right to talk about her while she’s asleep.”

Arabella tried to agree, but she was midway through a bite of her sandwich, so all that came out was a muffled mess of unintelligible words mixed in with beef, bread, and mustard. Thadius agreed but used only one word, intent on scoffing his food down. Josh didn’t expect anyone else to answer, so he jumped out of his skin when Cassandra did.

“Talk about what?”

They’d been so consumed with their food that they didn’t notice her get up. Arabella offered her a sandwich but said nothing as her mouth was still full, cheeks bulging where she’d bitten off way too much. Josh swallowed a little too early and nearly got some beef stuck in his throat. He drank some water to force it all down with a gulp.

“We were talking about you. Thadius thinks you’re more than just a ferrumurgist. He thinks you are a—”

Thadius cleared his throat. “Let me, Josh. Cassandra, I think you have more potential than you give yourself credit for. That, in a nutshell, is what I think. All my conjecture, however, matters not one jot. I’m not qualified; therefore, they are only the suspicions of a normal person. But Josh has a proposal for you, and if you decide to accept the proposal, the first thing we shall do is look at getting you assessed by someone qualified.”

Cassandra scratched her head. “Assessed for what?”

“Magic. We wish to see what magic you truly possess.” Thadius took another bite of his sandwich.

“For what?”

Josh inhaled, nerves suddenly filling his belly. All of a sudden, he wanted Cassandra to join them. He knew she fitted—that she’d make a great addition. He didn’t want to lose her. He rehearsed it a couple of times, then a couple of times more while the others looked at him. “I’m putting together a team of monster slayers—”

“Yes,” she said.

“But you haven’t heard my proposal yet.”

“Will it get me out of this place?”

“Yes.”

“Then. Yes.”

“Okay, but I’ve gone over my proposal a dozen times in my head, and I’d quite like you to hear it before you say yes.”

“Okay, but I’m going to say yes anyway,” Cassandra said, sitting by him and taking a bite of her sandwich.

Which gave Josh the time he needed to detail his proposal, explain the team members, the multiple wagons, and the whole caravan monster slayer idea. To which she said: “Yes.”

“Don’t you want time to think about it?” Arabella asked.

“For fuck’s sake—no! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! I want to fit in somewhere. I want to be a part of something. You three are the first people to take me at face value in too many years for me to remember. You didn’t judge. You just came up here and acted normally. When I became upset, both of you came outside to comfort me. No one’s ever done that for me. No one has ever cared for me. I was tossed out of my home at ten, shunned by every village. I wandered here and only stayed because I was scared to go any further south. I’d heard horror stories. But even here—even in the last outpost of Mythelore, no one wanted to know me. So I invented Cassandra the Witch, and I’ve been playing her ever since. So yes, I want more of that. I want to be part of Josh’s monster-slaying team, but there’s more.”

“What else?” Arabella asked.

“Him,” she pointed at Josh. “He fascinates me. The whole spaceship and slughole story.”

“Wormhole.”

“Back at you,” she snapped. “The whole story—it’s… It’s… It’s destiny. Don’t you see it? He fell from the stars, Arabella—right next to you and me. Well, you, first, obviously. But think about the chances of that happening. He fell from the sky, could have landed on any star, but landed on this one, next to us.”

“You can’t land on a star, more the planet orbit—”

“Josh! Shush! This is important,” Arabella snapped.

Cassandra lowered her voice. “Think of it. Think of the chance involved that he happened to spot you going past, fell in love, and followed you. Think of my part: I happened to be close and interrupted you in that tower. Think how small the chances of all this happening are. No, I’m coming. I’m not messing with destiny. Fate picked us all to be together, and I’m not shoving a finger up at it, no way.”

“And he’s cute,” Arabella said.

“And he’s kinda cute,” Cassandra agreed. “But yours, yes, yours.”

“All mine,” said Arabella, then glanced at Cassandra. “For now.”

Josh stared at her, but she winked playfully at him, so he glanced at Cassandra, who had a sly smile on her ruby lips.

“Then, I’m definitely coming,” Cassandra said.

Chapter Twenty-Three

THADIUS COUGHED AWKWARDLY. “Yes, well, before we can commence that project, we have another small matter in hand. What do you know of the colossus, Cassandra? You said you had information to share. I suggest now would be a good time.”

She looked vaguely in his direction, her eyes far away. “It's beginning to make more sense,” she said.

“What is?” Arabella asked, resting her hand on the witch's knee. “What makes sense?”

Cassandra shook her head. “Nothing, no, something, but nothing important at the moment.” She stared at Thadius. “What did you say, sweetie? Sorry, I was completely zoned out. That was a lot of information to digest.”

“Yes, yes, a fair amount. Josh did us the favor of easing us in. He gave us some spiel about a wizard and a portal. Much more palatable. So, yes, colossus. You were going to tell us about the colossus.”

“Ah, yes,” she said, then quirked her brow. “Is this a test?” she said.

“What?” Thadius asked.

“This whole colossus thing,” she said, waving her arm around. “Is it a test? If I fail, are you going to abandon me here?”

“Fail?” Thadius said.

“No,” Josh interjected. “It's not a test, and the colossus doesn't matter. Well, it does matter, but we haven't got a team yet, so the team can't fail. We'll get this problem out of the way and then plan our next move.”

“And ask Elowen if she wants to come,” Arabella said. “She's going to be our researcher and strategist. She knows everything about monsters and stuff, and Josh played games or something, so he knows about monsters or something.”

“There’s a vast difference between thinking you know about monsters and actually knowing,” Thadius said piously.

“It’s not that different, just fighting differently, but yes. Elowen and I will do the strategy,” Josh corrected.

“We want your thoughts on the colossus,” Thadius continued. “You mentioned a sorcerer. What do you know about him? We presume that we discovered his tower with Elowen. The books and scrolls bore that out, but you already appeared to suspect his presence.”

“I did, and he's still alive—barely, but his life force grows by the day. Or rather, it did.”

“Did?” Josh asked, then shook his head. “Sorry, continue.”

“I don't know where to begin,” Cassandra said.

“I find the start is usual, but wherever is comfortable for you,” Thadius said, his voice taking on a resigned tone.

She got up, gliding over to a low cupboard, bending and retrieving several bottles. “Everything starts with wine,” she said. “Let's have a couple of mugs and talk it through.”

Josh ripped his eyes away from her ass, but not before Arabella caught him looking. She gave him a sly smile, which gave him the feeling that she was enjoying teasing him with the thought of Cassandra joining their family.

“Wine, yes, erm, wine,” he said.

The witch poured, then drank half of hers while remaining standing. “So,” she said, eyes wide with excitement. “This is how it all started. I was up here, sitting on the bluff, looking down. You can see right to Elrima from here, and I often looked at the village, staring at the lit windows, wondering what it would be like to have company—to sit around a fire like this and chat. I digress. One night, I noticed something odd about the ruins. When you went there, did you feel the grim aura?”

Josh thought back, trying to recall. He hadn't noticed anything in particular, but there had been a creepy feeling. At the time, he'd dismissed it because it was an old and eerie place. After all, walking through ancient ruins was as close to treading on dead people's bones as possible.

“I did,” said Arabella. “The whole place sent shivers up my spine.”

“Ruins invariably carry a veil of gloom,” Thadius added.

“Exactly, except it was more tangible than that. I saw a speck of power. It was no more than that—like a tiny star shining. It intrigued me so much that I couldn't sleep that night. I lay awake, tossing and turning, trying to fathom what it was. I'd witnessed magic in Elrima. That much I knew. I was desperate to find out who had cast a spell.”

“So, it was a spell you saw? You can detect magic as well as metal?” Thadius asked.

“I think every witch and wizard can,” Cassandra said.

Thadius shrugged but said nothing, indicating that Cassandra should carry on.

“So, the next morning, I put on my best clothes and evil witch guise and set off for the village. I could still feel the magic emanating from the ruins, but I had no idea what part. I arrived a little after lunch and went straight there. Of course, my arrival rarely goes unnoticed, so I stirred the pot by asking who'd cast a spell.”

“But couldn't it be an adventurer? They usually have low-level casters with them,” Thadius asked.

“No. This was no low-level spell. Come morning, when it still endured, I knew it was more than that. It was a perma-spell, an enchantment, and it had rooted somewhere in the ruins. An adventurer spell goes off like a flare—nothing too bright to nothing. This was different. It was like a candle.”

“So, you can see magic and differentiate between the types and power of it?” Thadius asked.

“Yes, but that's not the point of it all. Magic had rooted in the ruins. Where was I?” She tapped her finger on her lips and harumphed.

Josh's imagination went wild again. Her fingernails were long and shaped, not to a point, but a sharply curved end. She'd painted each blood-red, and he could feel them raking his ass as he lay on top of her, fucking her for all he was worth. He blinked, trying to rid himself of the delicious thought, but it kept creeping back into his psyche. Arabella gave him a sharp nudge. He jerked, coming out of his stupor, expecting her to be scowling at him, but once again, she had a devilish smile sitting on her lips.

“Ah, yes,” said Cassandra. “So, imagine this scenario. You drop a bright, shiny ring in a field. You want to find it, so you go to the edge of the field, stare at it, and wait as the sun passes overhead. Then you see it. For the briefest moment, the ring glints in the sun, and you know exactly where it is. That is what I'd seen—the glint. Trouble is, as soon as you march toward the glint, it is lost, becoming confused with everything around it. I knew roughly where the spell came from, but the ruins have dozens of low-level magics buried, a thousand artifacts lay yet undiscovered, so close up, the magic becomes muddled.”

“You couldn't find it?” Thadius asked.

“At first,” she said. “I don't give up easily, and one thing I have got is plenty of time. The next night, I walked west, lining up the ruined tower and the colossus. I walked in a straight line until I was far enough away to isolate the spell. I expected it to be right or left of my line, but when I finally saw it again, it was right in front of me. That told me the magic was coming from the watchtower, the colossus, the road, or Elowen's tent. Of course, I suspected Elowen.”

“Why her?” Josh asked.

“The ruins, the colossus, and the road had always been there. She was new. My suspicions naturally fell on her. So, I visited her. She hated me—everyone does—and tried to get me out of her tent as quickly as possible. That was when I noticed the secret trap door under the blanket.”

Thadius sighed. It was like she'd grabbed his interest, and he was desperately trying to maintain its hold on him, but was slowly losing the battle. “You could see the trapdoor through the blanket?”

“More the hole under it.” She narrowed her eyes. “And the wood and the hinges.”

“So yes, then?”

“Yes,” she said and affirmed it with a nod. “But I sensed no magic, so the next night I walked north.”

“North?” Arabella said.

“To add another point of reference,” Thadius said.

“Indeed. I walked directly north, away from Elowen's tent. I still half-expected to see the magic hatch from there, but it didn't. It came from the colossus. I knew it as soon as I saw it.”

“So, someone had set a charm around the colossus? For what reason?” Thadius asked.

“Not around it,” Cassandra said. “In it—actually inside it. The magic came from the colossus' belly.” She sat, pouring herself another glass of wine. “Of course, there was an easy way to find out if it was mere coincidence or if the spell emanated from the colossus.”

Thadius held his head in his hands. “I'm going to regret asking this, but I must.” He looked up and smiled, but he didn't mean it. That was plain to see. “What was the easy way? What made you think it might not be rooted inside?”

“The way I couldn't seem to see the magic up close. Looking back, it's a bit like a light. If you look straight into a light from close range, you can't see anything because all you see is light, but from a distance, it's much clearer. So, all I knew at the time was the magic was in the colossus' belly. I didn't know if it was emanating from there or being projected there from somewhere else. There was, of course, a simple way to find out.”

“Which was?” Thadius's inquiry came through gritted teeth. He furrowed his brow, and his neck muscles had tightened.

“Simple. I moved the colossus.”

Thadius' jaw unclenched, and his mouth sagged open. “You moved the colossus.”

She laughed, a throaty laugh that rippled through Josh. “Well, it wasn't like it was the first time I'd done it. You'd be amazed how much fun it is. I once caught a drunk adventurer pissing on its feet, so I moved it out of the way. He ran back to Elrima with his dick flopping around, screaming like a ten-year-old girl.” She laughed, slapping her knee with one hand while brushing her hair back with the other. “Of course, no one believed him, and I moved it back into roughly the same spot.”

Thadius' resignation vanished. “Don't you see how important this all is?”

Cassandra inclined her head, her long earrings draping down. “Of course I do, sweetie, but I haven't got to the best bit yet. So, I moved the colossus, and the magic moved with it.”

Thadius's face clouded with frustration. “Could we get to the best bit and then deal with the obvious implications of the rest of it?”

Cassandra stared at him momentarily before turning to Arabella. “Is he always this grumpy?”

“He's old. Old people get grouchy, especially late at night when they get tired.”

“I'm just here,” Thadius pointed out. “And it will be morning soon if you don't hurry up.”

“Told you,” she whispered to Cassandra.

“Very well,” Cassandra said. “Where was I? Humph. Yes. So, I now knew that the magic came from inside the colossus. Armed with that knowledge, I approached it the following day and studied hard. Naturally, I had plenty of adventurers milling around me, wondering what I was up to, so I couldn't do much more than stare at it and pretend I'd thought it had moved, which it had because I was the one who'd moved it. Once I told them it'd moved, well, they all began flapping like hungry chickens. Shortly after, the murders started happening, which was a bit odd.”

“You were staring at it!” Thadius growled. “Keep focused.”

“I'll keep focused if you keep your hair on, old man,” she replied snottily. “Anywho, there, inside the colossus, I saw iron, silver, and gold, which was odd. So, I looked further. Slowly—” she lowered her voice”—the outline of a man became clear. He was all bundled up like a newborn baby, but he was there, clear as day, and the power came from him.”

“Yea Gods give me strength!” said Thadius. “So, let me summarize. You can see magic from quite a distance. You can sense an absence of earth, see doors through blankets, move vast stone statues, and see inside the same and detect life and metals other than iron. Isn't that a little odd for just a Ferrumurgist?”

She wagged her finger at him. “You would think, wouldn't you?”

He sighed. “Please. Please, just continue and put me out of my misery. It'll soon be time for breakfast.”

“Well, I put it down to this. Magic always disturbs things.”

“Things?”

“Things. If a spell is cast, it draws its force from the things all around. I see magic because it agitates the traces of metal in the object the spell is acting upon.”

“Incredible!” Thadius slapped his forehead. “It’s absolutely incredible.”

“Isn't it?”

“Stupidly incredible. The trap door? I can't wait to hear this.”

“Ah, that one's a bit easier to explain. The hinges were iron, and so was the latch. So, my mind filled in the blanks and pictured a trap door. Now, a trap door can't open up to solid ground, so it was reasonable to assume there would be a hole underneath it. Thus, I pictured the trapdoor and the pit under it.”

“Not bad. How about seeing the sorcerer?” Thadius asked.

“A bit more involved, that one. So, I could see the iron.”

“Indeed, and the gold and silver—don't forget them.”

“They are the key, aren't they? If it were just iron, I wouldn't have thought there was a powerful sorcerer in there. But as there was, it had to be a person. As the only likely person would be an evil sorcerer, it stood to reason that's what it was, and so I pictured a sorcerer in there all scrunched up.”

“A considerable reach, but for the sake of expediency, let's get onto the massive, vast, gaping hole in your theory. How do you move a sixty-foot-high stone colossus with only ferrumurgy?”

“Simple. I latched onto the piece of iron in there and dragged it where I wanted. Or at least I pushed what I wanted it to do to it.”

Josh rolled his eyes while Arabella nodded and said, “That would work.”

“Not if you know physics,” said Josh.

“Not if you have common sense,” Thadius said. “You can't drag a fifty-ton object, or whatever the thing weighs, by exerting willpower on a speck of it. That's just not going to happen.”

“Well, how did I do it then?” Cassandra said, crossing her arms and pouting.

“If I had to guess, I would say you moved the colossus using geomancy. The sorcerer was visible because you have faunamancy; it has nothing to do with the metal. You could see the steps and corridor under the trap door because you are a geomancer. You spotted the wood because you have an affinity for plants as well as animals. Why? Because you are a naturalist! How can you see magic from a distance? Let me tell you precisely who can see magic any time, any place, and anywhere—a harmonic! Why? Because they are in tune with the land and every single part of it. You are a harmonic and, as such, incredibly talented!”

She grinned at Thadius. “Well, that's nice then.”

“Nice! Nice?” Thadius' face reddened. “It's fucking unbelievable; that's what it is!”

Chapter Twenty-Four

JOSH STROLLED past Elowen’s tent, ignoring the happy yelps and squeals, and headed for the colossus. He wasn’t so sure about Cassandra’s theory that an evil sorcerer lurked inside. She believed her tale. That much was obvious, but he didn’t know if he was so sure. Thadius was entirely on board with the idea she was a harmonic, but Josh wanted some concrete proof. While he didn’t think Cassandra was intentionally misleading them for one moment, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that she’d misinterpreted some of the events, and her flighty mind had put two and two together and come up with five.

Was it too much to need proof?

He was alone, and that usually led to trouble. The last time he’d killed the unfortunate Bruce and the time before, he’d left a bridge littered with corpses. But it was quite a relief. Being alone came with its own sense of freedom, and besides, the others were all occupied. A little bit of space always helped clear the air.

The most likely source of trouble was Calico’s encampment, but there was no sign of any on them, which was strange. He’d pumped himself up for confrontation as Calico had near enough ordered them away. But it was late, and they’d been gone most of the day, so perhaps Calico thought they’d left.

Thadius had retired to the tavern upon their arrival back in Elrima, stating that not much would happen that late in the afternoon, so he might as well avoid Calico and put his feet up. Arabella had come with Josh, but she’d ducked straight into Elowen’s tent from where several high-pitched yelps had ensued as the two sisters-in-heart had reunited after their extensive day-long separation. Cassandra was going to join them tomorrow. She was busy freeing some of her animals, caging others, and packing up her dwelling to be ready for moving. So Josh was at a loose end. And what better to do than find out if Cassandra was mistaken or not?

Perhaps he was being hard on her. Maybe it had all happened as she’d said. But a bit of proof would be nice. He paused halfway between the huge statue and Elowen’s tent. It was the closest he’d been to the colossus, and the sheer scale of the stone monstrosity took his breath away.

To one side, a dozen or so adventurers crowded around an underground entrance, one shouting excitedly that he’d found a new dungeon entrance. To the other, a line of wagons had awnings up, one selling potions, another healing salves and heather sprigs, while a third had a spread of tables and chairs out front, with several adventurers eating and drinking and discussing the day’s events. Tents spotted the place. Horses grazed, tethered to ruins. Josh couldn’t quite get his head around it all. Surely, any treasure had already been found, any dungeons emptied.

He strolled on, resolving to explore a little as soon as he’d inspected the stone sentinel. With that in mind, he picked up his pace. The colossus soon towered over him, snuffing out the setting sun as it cast its vast shade over him. It was impossible to think how Cassandra had moved it, if indeed she had. She certainly couldn’t have dragged it as she’d claimed. If she had, there would be furrows in the ground. Josh knew his basic physics—hell, he understood quantum physics, which made no sense—so walking around a statue, no matter how huge, and working out Cassandra hadn’t dragged into position by pulling on a speck of iron wasn’t beyond him. But his walk around the colossus also threw up another massive conundrum.

It was apparent it had moved. He crouched by a foot, brushing the line where it met the grass. A twig stuck out from under it, and by the ankle, some flattened grass tucked under it, yellow, dying, but not dead yet. He scraped at it a little more and could see that the foot had sunk into the ground slightly. Everything about the indent indicated the foot had recently moved—like the colossus had stepped there.

He checked the other foot, walking around it and coming to the same conclusion. Both feet had moved to a new position. He continued walking until he came to the edge of the ruins. It took him twenty paces. He judged the colossus to be sixty feet high—roughly ten times his height, so using the same factor, twenty paces became two. If it had started at the edge of the ruins, it had taken two paces toward Elowen’s tent.

“The colossus has moved but was it just Cassandra moving it?” he said and hunted for the footsteps, but it was impossible to see any indents from so close to the ground. “If only I could see from above,” he muttered.

He might well be an Iron Apprentice, and while he hadn’t ruled out flying at some point in his evolution, he couldn’t do it yet. But he could climb, and while there weren’t any trees around, there was a huge stone beast nice and close. He walked back, assessing the climb.

A feeling crept over him, one of reverence, of history that demanded respect. The colossus had earned its place as both a landmark and the subject of whispered legend. He suddenly felt its power and understood it was no ordinary thing—no statue of dead stone. It rose from the ground with stoic majesty that defied centuries, and while it appeared smooth from far away, its surface, chiseled and weathered, bore the scars of time’s relentless embrace.

Josh’s gaze traveled upward, tracing the rugged lines and ragged features of the colossus. Cassandra had spoken of her ability to move it—even been flippant about it, but the mere fact her magic might be able to shift such a mass of stone was both wondrous and terrifying. How much power did she have? If he could see the footprints, he’d know. He’d have proof that she was a harmonic, and all doubt would vanish.

Taking a breath, he set his foot on the first protruding stone, his fingers gripping the coarse surface. A light breeze brushed his skin as he climbed, reminding him of his heightened sense of touch. His heart thudded with anticipation and trepidation as he thought of the implication of his impending ascent.

His perspective shifted. The land below dwindled, revealing the sprawling vistas he’d grown accustomed to. He felt a connection with the stone he held. It was warm, like it had soaked up centuries of the sun’s heat, storing it, readying to welcome and urge him upward. The thought that it might be a living sentinel coursed through him. Froggat’s wide eyes, ragged beard, and grim expression filled his mind—the fears of a whole village suddenly weighing heavy on his shoulders.

With his determination unwavering, Josh climbed. His strength was incredible, even if it was his weakest stat. His agility as he scaled the stone beast was unbelievable—his fingers reaching handholds that seemed too far away, his body twisting into shapes that defied his comprehension. Then, when he reached the stone beast’s thigh, he finally looked down, and there, etched in the very ground he’d recently trod, were four giant footsteps. But not just those footsteps. There were others, just as the witch had said. She’d moved the colossus all around. She hadn’t lied. She’d moved the monument at will—played with it. She had to be a harmonic.

He was about to descend when he noticed an indent in the stone around midway up the monument’s chest, tucked under its armpit and, to all intents and purposes, out of view to any on the ground.

“What the fuck’s that?” he muttered, knowing he had to investigate, that there was no way he could climb down without doing so.

He clawed his way on, the ledges plentiful, the handholds easy. Halfway up, just as he came alongside the colossus’ belly, his vision suddenly turned red. He froze, looking behind him, looking to one side and then the other, finding nothing. So he faced the colossus, his vision veiled blood red, and he understood that the second part of Cassandra’s revelation was true, that great evil lurked inside the stone.

He froze, uncertain whether to retreat or move on. Had the sorcerer sensed him, too? He could retreat. It was a wise move. He had no magic—no understanding of magic—with which to counter the sorcerer. What had Elowen called him? The name Maechellion came to him. If Maechellion attacked, he’d be defenseless, relying on his durability to sustain him, but without an effective attack, his resistance would be whittled away to nothing in no time.

But, if he could just make the shadowy area—the block of black—he could at least report back. If it was an entrance, they could create an attack plan. He decided he would do it. He would climb as swiftly as possible, look, then descend.

Josh climbed, hand over hand, foot over foot. He scurried up, his red mist darkening, pulsing with warning. Then, the stone began to heat up. It became hotter and hotter. His mind screamed at him to abandon the climb, and then he froze as a dread feeling filled him with frigid terror. It was something beyond any experience he’d previously encountered. It tore at every terror he’d ever felt, ripped each nightmare he dreamed from the hidden recesses of his mind. His eyes widened as Maechellion’s consciousness mixed with his. Thoughts so black they had no end, so twisted they stirred his marrow with their lust-filled hate, skimmed his mind.

Then the stone glowed red, blistering Josh’s hands and setting his boots aflame, and the evil feeling grew, the power grew, and a voice exploded inside his head.

“Get off my creation! Begone bug! Know this! Tell all! Machellion grows in power and will soon rise, and the age of darkness will begin—an age of eternal suffering where all will be deformed and twisted, clouds will hang heavy, and all will breathe the ash of despair! Begone, puny mortal. Let my monsters rise and devour all. Prepare for my coming!”

A burst of power exploded from the stone, smashing into Josh, pushing him backward, away from the searing mass, ripping the blistering skin from his hands and feet and sending him hurtling through the air and plunging to the distant ground.

He hit it with a thud, half expecting to black out. Surprisingly, he remained conscious. Equally surprisingly, he felt no pain, nor did he shatter any bones. He raised his hands, staring at them in disbelief as they healed, the skin literally crawling over the scorched flesh and bone as it mended. His vision clouded as he marveled at his durability, but instead of the standard text, a new one appeared, the woman voicing it as it scrawled across his mind’s eye.

New threat detected

Analyzing threat from records

Threat analyzed

Arcane threat detected

Analyzing Arcane resistance.

Arcane resistance = zero

Assessing need

Need immediate–action brought forward

Basic attributes deemed inadequate

Basic senses deemed inadequate

Working on solutions to enhance existing attributes

Strength–poor

Speed and agility–adequate

Durability–adequate

Combat instinct–adequate

Arcane resistance–non-existent

Assessing requirements to protect the host

Upgrading strength

Strength +2

Upgrading arcane resistance

Arcane resistance +6

New Score =

Strength = 9

Speed and Agility = 7

Durability = 18

Combat instinct = 10

Arcane resistance = 6

Average = 10

Senses

Intermediate intuitive hazard detection–inadequate

Adding arcane detection

Arcane detection added

Intermediate intuitive hazard detection - passive

Rank = Novice Enforcer

Current Tier = Iron Apprentice

Title = Iron Apprentice of the Novice Enforcer

Applying changes

Okay, that’s interesting, he thought. The ring can adapt to new threats.

He looked back at the stats, calculating the average and noting that six was the minimum the ring had to give him to maintain the average at the Iron Apprentice level. Therefore, he deduced, it was deemed impossible for him to fall below that average no matter how many new attributes the ring introduced. Which seemed fair—his body could take anything up to ten in any attribute, even a new one. He also noted it had given him two points in strength, even though the climb hadn’t been particularly arduous. This cemented his theory that any attribute below ten would soon catch up to that figure.

This, he mused, was as close to a cheat as he’d come across. Both strength, speed, and agility were hard to increase. But he knew how to improve his durability and his combat initiative. Plus, he had a damn fine way of increasing his arcane resistance. All he had to do was fight Cassandra. If he could pull his average stat to above twenty by focusing on those three, then the two weaker stats would be forced to catch up. That settled in his mind, and he snapped back to the problem at hand. Not that he knew he had one until he opened his eyes.

There, standing over him, was a woman. She was, it was fair to say, a hideous creature. Her carbuncles had carbuncles. Her make-up was plastered on with a trowel, and she had that air of superiority that only came through wealth or religion. She looked down her nose at him as her ample face drooped to countless chins. She was the stuff of nightmares. A woman who could have easily doubled as a fiery mother-in-law or sadistic teacher as the high priestess he soon found out she was. She pointed a staff at him, a strapped stone on its end. “Heretic! Burn him!” her shrill and unwelcome voice rang out.

“Burn me for what?” Josh shouted, jumping up, then nearly tripping as his burned boots shifted under him, half slipping off.

“You climbed the immortal statue of our great and good God, Maechen.”

“Maechen,” he mused. The name rang a bell.

A crowd had surrounded him, but to call it a lynch mob would have been a little disrespectful to lynch mobs, as this one had no burly bruisers in it but consisted of a few middle-aged men and several elderly women. One of which said, “But we haven’t got a fire, Sister Arral.”

“Or a post,” one of the men pointed out.

“Need a good post, too,” said another. “Too thin, and he’ll snap it. Look at the muscles on him.”

“Hardly an ounce of fat,” another of the women drooled.

“You’ve got to bury the post to the right depth, too,” said the second man. “A good rule of thumb is a third in the ground, two-thirds out, and I always put some stones in the bottom of the hole. It helps the water drain away and stops it from rotting. One part lime to three parts river sand will do it. Nice and firm. Lash him to that, and he’s burning all the way through. I guarantee it.”

“Nice mix,” said the first.

“Will you two shut up!” Sister Arral screamed. “We aren’t burning him if we haven’t got a fire, and we’re not building a sodding fence. Any suggestions?”

Josh bent and took his boots off. “Who the hell are you?” he asked. “Do you really worship this thing?”

“We do.”

“Are you aware it’s evil?”

The unlikely mob closed on him, sticks high, fists raised.

“Kill him!” Sister Arran screamed.

Chapter Twenty-Five

JOSH’S ANGER GREW. It gathered with good reason. He curled himself up into a ball as the blows rained down, and he wondered whether it was okay to kick the shit out of a bunch of old fogeys who just happened to be religious fanatics. It was a gray area. He doubted he’d even get an increase in durability. Each kick, punch, or slap was pretty feeble, and his body weathered the assault without registering pain. But it was humiliating.

A fleeting thought crossed his mind. I wonder if this isn’t the time to use call to arms? He’d had the option since the day before when he’d evolved but hadn’t been in a situation where he’d thought to use it. Then, all the business with Cassandra had happened, and it had slipped his mind.

There was no explanation of what it might be, or how to summon the call to arms, for that matter. It was there, and that was that. But Cassandra had said that the strange metal had woven something across his chest area, so whatever that might be, it could also cover his back, which was taking most of the feeble punishment, so it was an excellent time to try it.

“Call to arms!” he commanded. It was the logical choice. Any other command would take a while to work out, and besides, he was reasonably sure any commands were meaningless as the ring was inside his mind and knew what he wanted at all times.

The warm feeling returned to his body immediately as the soft female voice sounded.

Initiating Call to Arms

Activating first use of Call to Arms

Sequence started

Sequence complete

Call to Arms complete

The warmth increased, spreading over his upper torso as a blinding blue light emanated from his chest. His shirt and jacket vaporized as his skin erupted, a thick substance spilling like syrupy sweat, then sliding across his skin and forming scale-like plates over his shoulders, back, chest, and upper arms.

The blows stopped. The angry mob retreated, forming a large circle around him. There were gasps of awe. One of the old women fell to her knees, whimpering. Josh wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard the words living god spoken. The blue light faded. He sat up.

Bright, silvery-blue armor covered his entire upper body, and its appearance sent shivers down his spine. Sweat beaded on his forehead as panic gripped him. He’d seen the armor before. It was the color of the tech the aliens wore—the killing machines that covered their bodies from head to foot. His was an all-encompassing breastplate resembling a highly advanced, woven plate T-shirt. It had none of the lights, gizmos, and weapons the alien tech had, but it was undoubtedly derivative of that.

“Are you him returned?” Sister Arral gasped, covering her mouth and falling to her knees. Her entire manner had changed. She’d morphed from pompous Mother Superior to meek follower in an instant.

Josh had two options. He could tell them he was, then command them to leave him alone, or he could deny it, and the beating would presumably start again. While he had no issue one-punching them all from a you-just-tried-to-beat-the-crap-out-of-me-now-it’s-my-turn perspective, his strategic thinking demanded a better use of the opportunity. Besides, he still had the moral dilemma of whether smashing someone’s granny to a pulp was okay.

“I am his prophet,” he said, immediately wondering where the words came from. Impulse vocalizations rarely went well.

“His prophet?” Sister Arral asked.

“I thought you said you were his prophet,” one of the men said.

“She did,” said the other. “Can’t both be prophets, so one’s got to be lying.”

“Best look for two posts,” said the other.

“Get nice thick ones—four-by-four at least, and seasoned.”

“Will you two shut up about fucking posts!” the old pompous woman shouted.

“Prophets don’t curse,” the first man said.

“This one does, and it also kicks annoying bastards in their old nuts!”

His words confirmed violence against the aged was perfectly acceptable in Mythelore. Something he filed away under his next-time-I-get-beaten-by-oldies tab.

“He is a false prophet!” Sister Arral spat, pointing her staff at him.

“Seen bright light erupt from his chest,” said the first man.

“That’s a prophet-like thing, isn’t it?” said the other.

They both turned toward Sister Arral, thunder in their eyes. “Just the one post, Fred,” one said menacingly.

“I am his prophet,” Josh’s voice resounded, doubling down on his earlier statement. “And I command you to follow Sister Arral, my chosen one, as you hold a vigil at the bottom of the holy colossus, guarding it from intruders other than those I say can approach it. Can you follow this holy quest?”

It wasn’t bad for an off-the-cuff plan. If these folks were good for anything, it would be preventing Calico from getting too nosey. Josh needed to get to the entrance under the colossus’ armpit and poke around, and as he had arcane resistance, he’d have half a chance. As he thought he’d pulled off his little plan, the colossus’s foot rose from the ground and fell with a mighty stamp, the ground under them trembling. Not one to miss an opportunity, he added, “Maechen has spoken!”

As the devout fell to their knees, wailing and praising the lord, he spied Cassandra out of the corner of his eye. The witch was doubled over, laughing and pointing. But rather than be annoyed, a sense of wonder passed over Josh as he finally realized she had just confirmed Thadius’ hopes. According to the monster slayer, she was a harmonic—the most potent magic dealer in the realm.

Cassandra straightened, brushing herself down. She’d opted for full sexy-witch. Her thigh-high boots reached for a skimpy pair of short pants that once again revealed every furrow and crease of her pussy. A black lace boob tube barely held her straining breasts in place. She’d puffed her hair, which flowed over her short cloak in a flurry of liquid night and resembled Arabella’s style rather than the dead straight hair she’d previously sported.

“She is sex on legs,” he muttered as Sister Arral’s motley group of disciples spread around the colossus, preparing for their eternal vigil.

“Do we have to stay here long?” one of the men said. “Only, I’ve got to water my carrots.”

Arabella ran her finger over his armor. “It’s not going to be there permanently, is it?”

“No,” he said. “Cassandra wanted to inspect it before I recalled.”

The witch pawed over it, trying to force one of her long fingernails between the breastplate and his skin but failing to find a gap. She did offer Josh a fine view of her cleavage. She was concentrating on the lowest part of the plate, so close to his groin that if his growing erection burst free of his pants, it would nudge her hand out of the way.

“It’s part of him, not a piece of armor over his skin. This—” she knocked the metal ”—is Josh. It is his skin.”

Elowen joined her, kneeling as Josh towered over them. The bulge in his pants was plain to see, even in the tent’s dim torchlight. She ran her finger along the breastplate’s edge, rippling his skin. He gasped as his erection twitched again.

“It’s very hard, isn’t it?” Elowen said.

“Almost rigid,” said Cassandra.

Elowen looked up, running her tongue across her lips, her eyes wide, magnified by her spectacles. “I wonder if it bends. Does it bend, Josh?”

“It can bend a little,” he said, his voice higher than usual.

Arabella laughed. “Girls, please! This is supposed to help us get to the bottom of what it is.”

“He can get to my bottom any time he wants,” Cassandra said, biting her lip and standing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

Elowen backed away, too, Cassandra’s comment appearing to have crossed a line.

“Not a problem. You know the rules.” Arabella took their place, rubbing her hands over his armor. “Can you feel me doing that?”

“Yep, like it was my skin.”

“Fascinating. How about this?” She scratched his chest.

“I can feel it, but it doesn’t hurt at all. The sensation is dulled.”

“Recall it,” Elowen suggested.

“Yes, do that,” Cassandra added, the awkward moment over.

“Recall!” Josh said, his boner subsiding.

The armor changed color, its brightness fading and returning to his natural color, which wasn’t as pale as when he’d crash landed but was still a little too white for him. His nipples reappeared, and his belly button popped back in place as his chest hair regrew. But there were no signs of his shirt or jacket.

“I wonder if I left my clothes by the colossus.” But before he could do anything about it, text scrolled over, along with a dozen or so images of different shirts.

Initiating uniform rebuild

Adapting to environment

Select mode

Modes available—

Casual

Formal

Stealth

Combat

None

He blinked in surprise. “It’s offering to rebuild my clothes for me. Which is just as well because I think it ate them or vaporized them before. I can choose casual, formal, stealth, combat, or none.

“Well, I know what one I’d choose,” Cassandra purred.

Arabella glared at her, but the witch smiled in return. “Casual, sweetie. Can’t be any of the other three.”

Arabella focused back on Josh. “Choose casual.”

“My thoughts entirely,” he said. “Casual.”

Several shirt designs cycled across his mind’s eye. He selected one that was non-descript, light tan, and had a couple of breast pockets.

Common peasant’s shirt compatible with the analyzed era.

The shirt appeared on him.

“Look, okay?” he asked.

“Looks fine,” Arabella assured him.

“No, no, no, no, and no again.” Cassandra stepped in, drawing alongside Arabella. “Now, you can pull rank on me again, but this is my area of expertise. Is Josh, or is he not, a hero in the making? Is he not idolized by at least fifteen old codgers out there?”

“I guess,” Arabella said, chewing at her bottom lip.

“Then he can’t wear an ordinary commoner’s shirt. I take it you have other selections?”

“I do.”

“Pull up a chair, ladies. We’ve got work to do.” Cassandra grabbed a couple of chairs from under the table, and Elowen turned her armchair around. “Right, first one, please, Josh.”

Josh selected a slightly brighter one, and the first vanished, the new one replacing it.

“Nope,” said Cassandra, snapping her fingers.

Josh zoned out, following the witch’s instructions and cycling from one shirt to the next, then back to the second, the sixth, the lacy one, the short-sleeved one, the patterned one, and the frilly one, then all the way back to the lacey one for a third time.

He pondered what rules Arabella had referred to earlier. They were clearly to do with this Code that she’d talked about. There must be some form of hierarchy, and Arabella, his first lover, held some sway over who could join their family.

He pondered if that was why Thadius had waived the advancement qualification when he’d said Josh no longer needed to be an Iron Apprentice to bed his daughter. Had he, in doing that, ensured Arabella would have ultimate control over their family? At the time, Josh hadn’t worried about it too much. He’d been way too eager to get fucking Arabella to care about the nuances of Thadius’ pronouncement. But, looking at the girls as they fussed over each choice, it was clear that Elowen and Cassandra deferred to her, and she would choose after taking in their advice.

If he was honest, that suited him. He’d loved Arabella since he’d first set eyes on her. Boning all her friends would, of course, be a bonus, but ultimately, it was her he was smitten with. Although, he’d already grown quite fond of Cassandra. Annoying as she was, it was only a front. There was a beautiful person inside, and he couldn’t wait to uncover more of her. Perhaps that was the qualification Arabella was looking for in other mates. A quickie wasn’t the goal, but another love was. Maybe those were the rules. She had to see budding love and be sure it would work out before she allowed any into their circle.

“Josh?” Arabella said. “We chose the black one with the lace-up collar and the barrel buttons.”

“Okay,” he said and selected that one.

Casual shirt selected

Proceeding with jacket selection

“We’ve got to choose a jacket next,” he said.

Cassandra rubbed her hands. “Darlings, I haven’t had this much fun in forever!”

They left shortly after the lengthy process of choosing his jacket. Although he had to admit, it was pretty stylish. It hung just above his knees, had a wide collar which he could turn up against the breeze, and a belt thin enough to cinch it in a knot rather than a buckle. It reminded him of a barge pirate’s get-up.

Although recognized through his universe as rogues, they had a strange mystique about them that women fawned over and made men want to emulate. Yeah, he wanted to be a swashbuckling space pirate, but he’d settle for a dashing monster slayer. After all, it was all about battles and babes, and he already had a babe with the potential for a couple more.

However, the overall effect was ruined by his lack of boots. The ring hadn’t offered him any choice of pants or boots. He presumed he’d need to evolve further to get that option. Hopefully, the next upgrade would protect his groin area, as damaging that was unthinkable, and his pants were in a state, too. He’d got them filthy, falling from the colossus and subsequently getting beaten up, and they’d already been in a bit of a state from fighting the bear, although wading the river had helped.

“I’m going to need new boots,” he said, stating the obvious as he navigated between the two hills and back to Elrima.

Cassandra had stayed behind. Arabella had simply stated that they needed to get to know each other, which appeared to settle the matter. When Cassandra had told Elowen she couldn’t read, Elowen had positively beamed, promising to pull a late-nighter and begin teaching her.

“We can get you measured up tomorrow. If we’re lucky, the cobbler will have something already.”

“That’s the thing. I haven’t got any money, and I know your dad isn’t rich.”

“He’s not rich, but we’re not destitute either. He still has the house in the capital, but I doubt he’ll ever sell that. We need to earn some money, that’s why he likes your idea so much. It cuts out all the traveling. We hear about a monster and can divert and go there much faster.”

“He likes the idea?”

“Yeah!” she said, turning the word into two syllables. “He loves it, just doesn’t show much emotion. Trust me, steady money coming is always best—takes away a huge worry.”

They pulled through the gates, passing over the bridge and into the courtyard. Thadius darted out of the tavern’s back door.

“Where the hell have you been? Quick, come quick!”

“What?” Arabella asked.

Thadius’ eyes were burning with excitement.

“Turnic’s got a job for us.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

THADIUS GRABBED ARABELLA’S ARM, steering her out of the courtyard. “Beast attacks!” he said, but explained no further. “Now, Turnic is Smeek’s sidekick. He’s the area’s arbiter, for want of a better term. He gathers all the taxes, draws up the ledgers, sends Seymour his cut, and the rest goes to the King. But, and this is the hard part. We don’t truly know if Smeeks is in charge or if it’s Turnic. I called him the sidekick, but it might be him pulling Smeek’s strings. We tread carefully. Both of them control more than meets the eye.”

“Take a breath, Dad. I’m sure we’ll work it out.”

“Where’s Josh’s boots?” They turned along a path a few yards before the bridge. Thadius rushed ahead. “Well, where are your boots?”

“It’s a long story,” Josh said. “But they got set on fire.”

“Harumph!” He glanced at Josh, looking him up and down. “Nice coat, though. You can tell me all later.”

“You might want to know one thing I confirmed.”

“Talk while we walk,” Thadius said.

“Cassandra’s a geomancer. She moved the colossus in front of me, and I can confirm there’s a sorcerer inside it, so everything points to her being a naturalist, too.”

“I thought you were just going to visit Elowen and fill her in on Cassandra?”

“Josh went for a walk.”

“Ah,” said Thadius. “That explains it. How did he lose his shoes?”

“The sorcerer burned them off me while I scaled the colossus, trying to reach the secret door.”

“This story isn’t straightforward, is it?”

“It involves a bunch of Meachenists now worshipping him,” Arabella said.

“He certainly knows how to entertain,” Thadius said.

The path turned, leading them along the river. Barns lined their other side until the way opened onto a small grassy expanse, neatly cropped by wandering goats. A two-story house sat in its center, much grander than any other in Elrima. It was partly made from stone, with a tiled rather than a thatched roof, and smoke barreling up into the night sky from a stout chimney. Light shone from the lower windows, and a central door hung open, a beast of a man standing before it, his arms crossed and expression emotionless.

Thadius slowed. “Right, now, here’s the thing. If he offers us a commission, it would be handy. It’ll save me traveling to Seymour and cashing in a bond. It’s time I’d rather not waste at the moment, not when we need to beat Calico. Besides, we need to get Cassandra assessed. If she is a harmonic, then we should begin training her.”

“She’s a harmonic. Trust me. If the criteria you laid out are correct, she’s adept in more than one discipline,” Josh confirmed, then grinned. “She didn’t just move the colossus. She made it stamp its feet right in front of me. Scared the shit out of the zealots.”

“Did she, by God.” Thadius gasped, then chuckled. “I wish I’d seen it. If that is the case, then we need this commission. It will save us a few weeks and give us money for an extra wagon. We mustn’t lose her. She could be the difference between life and death.”

“There’s one way to ensure she’ll stay with us,” Arabella said.

Thadius paused. “Not a step to be taken lightly. Both you and Josh would have to be completely certain you want her in your family. She can be a little…”

“Annoying, yes, she can be, but I think there’s a heart of gold in there,” Arabella said.

Thadius pecked her on the cheek. “I’ll support you both whatever you decide, but know this: I’d rather lose her than sour your family.” He continued up the path, striding up to the man. “Thadius Extrael, here to see Turnic.”

The man looked down at him. “Extrael?” he said. “He’s expecting you. I’ll let him know you’re here.” He vanished inside.

“How much do you get for the average monster slaying?” Josh asked, stepping from foot to foot as the cold bit into his bare toes. “I need boots. You don’t realize how bad life is without boots until you have none.”

“We’ll get you boots. Doesn’t do to have you running around barefoot like a peasant.”

“Thanks. How much? I’m trying to work out how many monsters we need to kill to be able to eat.”

“It depends on several factors: monster size, the number of its victims, the frequency of attacks—that sort of thing. The simplest jobs are a few dozen silver. The larger ones—leviathans and the like—can run into a dozen gold, sometimes more, depending on who’s getting attacked and the logistics of the battle. If you have to hire a ship, it can run into hundreds.”

“So it depends on who’s getting attacked?”

Thadius grunted. “It does. You don’t get much if it’s only peasants.”

“Sounds about right,” Josh said.

“Turnic will see you now,” the man said from the doorway.

Torchlight spilled around his scarred face. He was a brute, no doubt about that, and while Josh was sure he could put him down, that was a measure of how far he’d progressed in the few days he’d been on Mythelore.

They entered the gloomy hall. Torchlight flickered against timeworn stone, casting dancing shadows over creaking floorboards. Tapestries adorned the walls depicting hunting scenes, tales of one man’s bravado—the same one that lurked in several portraits hanging between them. The hallway was a testament to its owner’s bravery, yet it didn’t quite pull it off, each scene looking staged. The scent of polished wood and parchment hung in the air, heavy and musty. Josh instantly hated Turnic and knew he was the coldhearted brains behind Smeeks.

They turned into a study, bookshelves lining the walls, an amber glow coming from an inglenook hearth. At the heart of the room was a grand, oaken desk adorned with scattered ledgers and discarded quills. Behind it sat a man, his crown of hair long and tied back, drawn around his partially bald head. He had a rat-like look, his face pointed and mouth narrow, and his presence was commanding and quiet, giving him a sinister air. He regarded the three of them, studying them each in turn before he spoke.

“I only remember asking for the Monster Slayer. When did asking for one mean receiving three, Hardacre?”

“Begging your pardon, Master Turnic. My error. I thought time pressed.”

“Your error indeed. Extrael, why three?”

“I have a team now,” Thadius said, his voice tight. “This is my daughter, Arabella, and her intended, Josh Underwood.”

“The Underwood that caused the altercation on the bridge? Smeeks mentioned him. Said he was a troublemaker. We’re here to discuss killing monsters, not people. If I want people killed, Underwood, I have Hardacre. He’s very good at it.”

“He was set upon by a group representing the potion makers, by all accounts,” Thadius said.

“Is that the story?” Turnic said. He picked up his quill, tapping its feather on his forehead. “Take a seat. All three of you. We need to have a chat.”

They sat, and Hardacre offered them a glass of wine each. Turnic waited patiently until the man left, and then he spoke.

“I want to tell you about Fender the wagon smith,” he said, staring only at Thadius.

“I thought we were here to talk about a monster problem,” Thadius said.

“It’s related. Indulge me. I had a wagon once that caused me no issues. Nothing wrong with it, ever. It had six wheels, fat ones, great for hauling taxes to Seymour, something I take little pleasure in doing, so I like doing it in comfort when I have to. It had three axles, six wheels, and a bed made of solid oak. I’m telling you, Extrael, it could ride a pitted road, and you’d hardly notice it. The finest silk cushioned its benches. It was a masterpiece, Extrael, a masterpiece, and it never went wrong. I took it to Fender when my favored wagon smith passed away suddenly. It needed a new wheel rim—had a chunk taken out of it by a stray caltrop. Anyway, I digress. Suffice it to say, Fender fixed it.” Turnic leaned forward, clasping his hands together as he stared at the fire. “I’ll wager you know what happened next.”

Thadius crossed his legs, sipping his wine and spreading his gaze around the room. “I suspect I know. It’s a common issue with those charlatans.”

“Yes, it is.”

“What is?” Josh asked.

Turnic sighed. “So not worldly-wise,” he observed. “My wagon, Underwood, was back at Fenders not two weeks later. It needed a new axle. Then, two weeks after that, a balljoint went, and so on and so forth.”

“A fine story, and one that is an issue Mythelore-wide. Wagon smiths are a rule to themselves. But,” Thadius said, “what has this to do with us?”

“Let me think,” he said, sitting back. “Would your suspicions rise if, say, and let me paint this picture for you, if, say, you didn’t have a monster problem, then two monster slayers roll into the village, and all of a sudden, you do have a monster problem.”

“They would. But in this instance, and I can only talk for myself, you’d be incorrect. Our focus is solely on the colossus and your witch problem.”

“I wasn’t aware I had a witch problem.”

Thadius drained his glass. “You don’t anymore. She will leave with us, removing the issue that might have developed. Suffice to say, we have been here a couple of days, and even if I knew how to summon a monster, I haven’t had the time.”

Turnic sucked his cheeks in. “Convenient. You’ve solved an issue I don’t have, and you are attempting to snuff out the greatest source of income this village has. Tell me, what props up the taxes in Elrima?”

Thadius raised his hand. “I accept you don’t want the mystery to vanish from the ruins, and we won’t do that. But I can’t, in all conscience, leave any evil there. Calico, on the other hand, is talking about complete erasure. You’ll have to take that up with him.”

“I shall call him in for a meeting.”

“I hope that goes well for you. According to Josh, he was nowhere to be seen yesterday.”

“He seems to have abandoned the ruins for now. So, that leaves just you. Why not make the colossus safe and move on?”

“You have my word that if I’m left alone, that is exactly what I’ll do.”

“Do I also have your word that you have nothing to do with these monster attacks?”

“You do.”

“Then we should talk about that. If the great Thadius Extrael gives me his word, then I take it at face value.”

He rounded the table, sitting on its front. He was a well-rounded man, but not overly so. His white breeches tucked into a pair of shining black boots and his open-collared shirt struggled to hold in his belly, but he did look like he’d once packed a punch. “Are you a whiskey man, Extrael? Underwood? How about you, Arabella?”

“I’m partial to a malt,” Thadius replied.

Josh knew of whiskey, but he’d never tried one. However, he had to fit in, so he accepted the offer.

“I’m good with wine,” Arabella said.

“Hardacre!” Turnic shouted. “Two whiskeys and more wine!”

“Where is your monster problem?” Thadius asked as Hardacre brought the drinks in.

“The Evermore Forest,” he replied. “It’s east Elrima and stretches to the edges of the Hangsane.”

“I’m aware of the place. I take it the monsters are attacking the lumber mills.”

“We haven’t heard from the lumber mills, not today. A rider came at dusk. He was covered in blood and barely survived. Even now, his life is in the balance. He has some form of rot. He said the monsters suddenly appeared—came out of nowhere early today. Huge hairy beasts, by all accounts. I don’t need to tell you how important it is to keep those lumber mills open, do I?”

Thadius nodded, sipping his whiskey, as Turnic drove home an unspoken point.

Josh was missing something. That much was clear. But he couldn’t ask, so he just played the part of the streetwise Underwood he was supposed to be. “Then you need this done fast,” he said, then sipped his whiskey, barely containing the fire flowing down his throat.

“Good. We understand each other. First thing in the morning,” Turnic said. “I can spare ten men.”

“Could that be where Calico’s men went?”

“They were seen entering the Evermore before all this happened, which is why I thought it all convenient. The wolf attacks happened after. It could be that the kingsman is dead.”

“Hardly likely, but looking very suspicious. Recompense?” Thadius asked.

“Fifty silver.”

“Wrong color,” Thadius said cooly.

“I can’t go beyond seventy-five—same color.”

“You can, and you will. We have no idea how many monsters we’re up against.”

“It’ll be one—that’s all it takes,” Turnic said. “Besides, there hasn’t been a monster in the Evermore for a while.”

“Then one gold will do it,” Thadius said.

“Or,” Josh interjected. “Seventy-five per monster. Heads delivered as proof.”

Thadius shot him a sideways look, but didn’t break his composure. “That would be acceptable.”

“Agreed, then,” Turnic said. “Perhaps you could afford your apprentice a pair of boots.”

“He is my partner, Turnic. He’s currently toughening up his feet in case he gets attacked in bed. That is his level of commitment. We can spare the time if you’d like to test his fighting prowess. He could fight Hardacre. My man would be barefoot and bare-chested. Yours can be armed—sword, spear, whatever he favors. Shall we save five gold? My money’s on Josh.”

“I’m fine without the display, although I think you underestimate Hardacre.”

“Both you and I know that is incorrect. If you thought Hardacre could win, they’d be fighting already.”

Turnic grunted, opening his hands. “What can I say? I’ve lost my appetite for gambling. So, let’s end this meeting. The night draws on. Do we have an agreement?”

“Not quite,” Thadius said. “It’ll cost you to raise your militia. Seventy-five per head with the militia, eighty without.”

“Just three of you?” Turnic raised his eyebrows.

“There will be five,” Thadius said.

“Fine. Without militia. Do your work, Thadius Extrael, and remember our bargain. The ruins remain intact, or your exit from Elrima will be swifter than you wish. There are more ways than Hardacre or Calico to spoil that trip.”

He rose, rounding his desk and sitting behind it once more.

Thadius drained his whiskey, standing, bidding Josh and Arabella to mimic him. He took their glasses and placed them on Turnic’s desk with a thump that had a measure of intent. When his words rang out, a chill whipped through Josh.

“Remember a man’s vocation when you threaten them, Turnic. I’m no wagon smith.” Thadius rose, seeming to grow in stature and threat. “I fight monsters.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“TELL ME ABOUT THE CODE,” Josh asked, sipping his ale.

The tavern was quiet. A couple sat at a corner table. A barman and the barmaid leaned on the counter—idle conversation flitting between them. The barman intrigued Josh. He had a mix to him. His skin was dark, while his sharp face had distinctly elven features—brows pointed, eyes narrow, and nose pretty aquiline. None of which screamed elf. However, there was something about his ears that roused suspicion. The man had long, black hair but had blond, almost white roots, creating a highlighted line where he’d parted his hair. When he pushed it back, as he often did, Josh caught a glimpse of his ears, their tops scarred. He thought, but was too polite to ask, that perhaps he’d had them done—fashioned to remove the elven points. It intrigued him because Thadius had said that elves didn’t mix, yet it was clear that those lines were not as defined as said. But why would folk deny something so obvious?

“What do you want to know about it?” Arabella asked.

“The Protocols. Look, I know you like winding me up about—”

She giggled. “What does winding up mean?”

“Mocking? Sort of mocking but less serious. Light mocking. It means light mocking.”

“Got it, and yes, I do. Love it. I love the way you squirm and blush. It’s so cute.”

“Yes, well, make the most of it because I’m learning fast.” It was a weak comeback, but then he enjoyed seeing her happy, and she commanded a good measure of respect from the other two girls when she put them in their place. “Look, I just want to know what’s going on. I can see you’re encouraging Elowen and Cassandra into our family, but keeping them at arm's length at the same time. I’d like to know how it all works.”

“It’s simple, really. Tell me—” She leaned close, touching his dick. “And I’ll know if you’re lying. Do you want to fuck Cassandra?”

Her hand on his dick didn’t help, and the thought of screwing the witch made him harden rapidly. There was something about Cassandra that made his blood race. He imagined her spreadeagled under him, and as her clothing left little to the imagination, he reckoned he had her body down pretty accurately. Her breasts would sit proud of her ribcage, not an ounce of fat covering her bones. Only a few women, in his opinion, suited a skinny body, but she fit it, and she was as horny as fuck. He could imagine penetrating her, feeling the nub of her bone on his base, feeling it wrapping around him.

But as he thought about all the reasons he wanted to possess her, to fuck her, to savor her beautiful form, it wasn’t the sole reason he wanted to have her. He’d witnessed her vulnerability, the way she’d fought to establish some semblance of a life. He’d heard her story and how she’d overcome all the disadvantages, prejudices, and hostility, and she’d survived alone in a wolf-infested wood. She’d built a home, offered sanctuary to dozens of animals, and even befriended a bear called Bruce. But what was most extraordinary was that she’d retained her sense of humor through all that adversity, even moving the colossus to make him laugh.

“Yes,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because she’s fantastic.” As he said it, he realized it was true. It wasn’t just that she was sex on legs. It was so much more.

She squeezed his dick, and he realized that while he was aroused, he wasn’t twitching like a horny teenager. “Then you are nearly ready, as is she. It’s like this. I trust our relationship even though it's in its infancy. I can sense the depth of your feelings for me. It’s a gift we Mythelorian women have and why our bindings are so certain. We know if a man loves us, so if we choose them, we do so because we accept that love. Accepting a man’s love is to be entrusted with something wonderful. I knew you loved me—I knew before you did, so when I told my father that we shared love, he welcomed it but thought I might have rushed it. When he knew for sure, he gave us our blessing.”

“So that’s why it's against the law for another man to pursue a betrothed female?”

“That’s why. If another man gives her his love, then he could tear her heart in two. Some women can handle it—those who form their harems and have multiple male partners, but they are rare and usually noble women.”

“I understand. So, you and me are one. I get that. But how come you command the others?”

“Because it is my position to. You are the man. You are the captain of our ship. Your word is final, and everyone in our family must adhere to it. We offer our opinions naturally, but any decision is yours. It’s up to me to make sure two things. Firstly, you are ready to command more than one woman, that you love that woman, not simply lust after her. Secondly, it is partly my choice if a woman joins our family. I vet her love for you, so you don’t have to. A man can be hoodwinked by a beautiful body, by a cheeky smile, or a flash of her cleavage. It is natural for any man’s cock to swell when a gorgeous woman sashays past and promises him release. But lust cannot cause the downfall of the family.”

“So, you choose who I lay with?”

“No, I choose nothing. You always command. But I advise. If you were restricted to only me, you’d be happy, but you might have a wandering eye that would destroy our fragile family. A man with empty balls is never unfaithful.”

Josh laughed and pulled her close. “Tell me more.”

“I will ask Cassandra questions you won’t dare to. I will know if she will do things that will keep you excited, not just for five lust-filled minutes, but for a lifetime. Family is about strong foundations, and we must never rush into it. You and Cassandra are well-suited to each other. I could share a bed with her, with you. I could share you with her. But something is missing—something that’s not quite clicked into place.”

“Like what?”

“You don’t love her yet, which is the most important thing. To fall in love with one woman is easy. To maintain that love while you fall in love with another, well, that’s a test you must pass and one she has to help you with.”

“What about Elowen?” Josh asked. “You talked about her like she was jumping into bed with us tomorrow.”

“She would,” Arabella said. “She likes you, but she loves me and Thadius. She’d join our family, and perhaps in time, you’d feel love for each other, but that’s not good enough for me. I realize that now. Agonizing over Cassandra has shown me how pivotal my role is. Yes, I’d love to make love with you and Elowen, but it must be two women with one man, not a man and a woman making love to another woman. Do you see the difference? The focus must always be you.”

“I see it, and if you choose it to be only you and I, well, I’ll still be the happiest man in Mythelore.”

She grinned. “That you would be, but you taught me something about the world. It’s not just Mythelore. It’s a whole planet in an entire universe. My task is to make you the happiest person in that universe. It’s quite the tall order, but if I get your bed right, then all will grow from there.”

“Put your hand back,” he said.

“Why?”

“Feel my cock now.”

He woke in the morning, his smile still in place. Their lovemaking had been fast and furious, his passion fueled by visions of Cassandra spreadeagled under him and of him, Elowen and Arabella all in bed together, writhing in a tangle of sweating flesh, the musk of their sex heavy in the air.

He’d cum multiple times the night before, finding a new libido within him that he’d never known he had. It wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility that the ring had eavesdropped upon their conversation and modified his body to suit its perceived environment. He could imagine it preparing him, the woman’s voice sounding in his mind.

Assessing need

Basic attributes deemed inadequate

Basic senses deemed inadequate

Working on solutions to enhance existing attributes

Cock length and girth–poor

Cock rigidity–poor

Testicular volume–poor

Boning technique–poor

Staying power–poor

Assessing requirements to make partner scream her tits off

Upgrading cock length and girth

Cock length +2 inches

Cock girth + 2 inches

Upgrading cock rigidity

Increasing yield and tensile strength +300

Upgrading testicular volume

Testicular volume +2 fluid ounces

Upgrading boning technique

Boning technique—

He grinned to himself. If having the ring wasn’t a mad enough experience, that would make it surreal. But whatever the truth of it, his sex drive was off the charts. That, however, was understandable. He was in a new world. He wore alien tech that filled him with health. Arabella, who was bent over, looking out the window and baring her ass to him, was as horny as fuck. Why wouldn’t he want to bone her night and day?

His erection grew again. Her ass was there, right in front of him. It was perfect, a dark slit parting two magnificent ass cheeks, and under them, he could see the very end of her exquisite pussy, so tight he could barely enter her without at least a little spit.

He shuffled to the end of the bed, standing, his erection proud, not poking straight out, but with an upward angle he’d thought he’d lost years ago. His knob had swollen, so filled with blood it shone, and his veins stood proud along his pulsing shaft. His cock was pure power, a symbolization of his renewed vigor and the new measure of his progression. He spat on his palm, rubbing the saliva over his crown, buffing it more, the liquid absorbed. He repeated the exercise until his head was wet enough.

Arabella parted her legs, readying herself to take him. She didn’t say a word. Instead, she shook out her hair, raised her shoulders so her back arched down, then rose to her waiting ass. He nudged his head against her, feeling his way, finding her moist slit, then easing his head up and down, drawing a gasp from her before he slid right in, pushing his entire length in.

His cock slid in easily, her pussy still soaked with his cum from the previous night’s lovemaking. He withdrew—his shaft shining silver, the sun once more rising in the east and brushing the village’s thatch with orange.

“You know, I think this is going to be my one enduring memory of this place,” he said.

“What is? Say it. What are you going to remember?”

“Your ass,” he said, plunging back into her. “Your cum-soaked pussy. Your back. Your hair.”

“Grab my hair,” she said.

He thrust into her, holding still, his cock buried deep inside her. Then he gathered her hair into a tail, twisting it around his fingers and then closing them to make a fist. “Like that, baby?”

“Just like that. Now pull, pull my head back while you jam your cock into me.”

He withdrew so only his tip was inside her. Then he yanked his hand back while he jammed himself into her, his groin smashing against her ass with a sharp slap.

“Ahh!” she yelled, stifling her cry.

“Like that?”

“Oh yes, baby, just like that,” she purred,

He withdrew, pulled, and thrust back in. Then he struck a short, jerky rhythm, and each time he ripped into her, she let out a cry, stifling it like she wanted to take him without a whimper, to endure, to win. He pulled time and time again, the slap of flesh on flesh, her muffled cries the only sound. Their conversation had died as a new game had begun. She had to beat him. He had to make her cum.

Then, midway through, there was a shift in power, a change so subtle that he never saw it. His strokes became smooth. The tautness of her hair became even. The quest for dominance ended, neither side having won or lost, and both became embroiled in a race for satisfaction. He needed to cum, needed release. He quickened his pace, staring out at the burnished sky, lost to its myriad of shades as his pleasure grew, built, and passed boundaries he’d never known existed. His cock’s crown throbbed with ecstasy, navigating each ripple, each silken boundary within her, and he thrust deeper and deeper, coming to her end, butting up against her cervix, threatening to break into her womb.

She cried out, not bothering to stifle her moans, wanting her pleasure to come. She reached around, clawing at his thighs, unable to reach his ass but persevering all the same. He slammed into her, not understanding, having no concept of his original goals, a slave only to the pure pleasure radiating from his cock. She spread her hands on the window frame, rising slightly, altering his angle of penetration so the underside of his cock chaffed her pubic bone.

She shook and spasmed; her body seeking to capture his length and milk his essence. It was too much for him. His legs weakened, knees shaking, as his balls finally welled, rinsing one last ejaculation from his exhausted tubes as he finally succumbed to his pleasure, as he emptied himself into her. Their bodies and minds joined in pleasure as their passion flooded each other. He grabbed her, lifting her away from the window, cupping her breasts, and turning her head to kiss her. His cock sprung from her, the last drips of his semen spilling down her leg as he whispered, “I love you,” and she said the same.

“I love you too, Josh Underwood, and I always will.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

HE’D THOUGHT nothing could come much closer to pure ecstasy than fucking Arabella doggy style first thing in the morning, but a new pair of boots came damn close. Getting them, however, wasn’t straightforward.

A stream ran through the tavern’s back garden. Arabella and Josh scrubbed the heavy scent of their sex from them. After years of locking himself away to have a shower, washing himself in front of others came as quite the cultural shift. But it was that or stinking, and with the lovely Arabella available morning, noon, and night, he wouldn’t put her off with lapsed personal hygiene.

Besides, they had to wait for the cobbler to open. Boots were top of his agenda. The rest—village-gobbling monsters and the like, could wait. It was a matter of priorities. So once washed, Josh set off to buy his first pair of boots, leaving Arabella to sort breakfast.

The cobbler was a pleasant enough fellow called Henry, a widower, but with a hankering for a seamstress named Sarah and a tongue that never rested. Before he’d even sized up Josh’s feet, he knew more about Henry than about Thadius and Arabella.

“So, pork’s my favorite, with lamb a close second. I’m partial to a bit of venison, mind, and that’s free, too, if you get lucky with a bow. The Evermore’s teaming with deer, boar too. Mind, you gotta be careful hunting boar. They can be bastards when roused. Mind, you do get plenty of meat off them, more than a rabbit. But when have you known a rabbit to gouge you to within an inch of your life? Risk versus reward, Mr. Underwood, risk versus reward.”

Will you shut the fuck up and get on with my boots?

“I reckon you’re a medium. Nine in Mythelorian standard foot size, but that varies a lot between the north and south. Nine down here is ten up there. So if you get a pair in the capital, ask for nine and a half. See Rob—he’s a good cobbler. Bit of a drinker, mind. Are you a drinker, Mr. Underwood?”

“Not particularly. When could you have them ready?”

“Like these ones?” He pulled a pair from under his workbench. They were calf-length, buckled and laced, with a solid-looking sole. They matched his swashbuckling look.

“Perfect.”

“Then I’ve only got a few alterations, and they’ll be done. What are you going to have?”

“Sorry?”

“For breakfast. You’re in the tavern, aren’t you? Ask Declorian for ham and eggs. He does a mean ham and eggs, and for a—well, you know.” He leaned in. “For one of them, he ain’t a bad cook.”

“One of them?”

“Don’t make me say it. Don’t make me say the E word.”

“He’s an elf?

“For fuck’s sake, shut up!” Henry scoured the shop, looking for anyone lurking, even though it was only him and Josh.

“Well, it’s pretty damn obvious.”

“As maybe, but no one talks about it.”

“I was under the impression that elves and humans don’t mix.” The moment he’d said it, he regretted it.

Henry drew back. “They don’t mix well. You get a volatile half-breed. The aggressive human side mixes with the sharp, elven attitude. It creates quite the character. You don’t cross Dec, and you never, and I repeat, never, question his heritage—taboo, off limits.”

“Got it?” Josh sighed.

Henry looked around. “I reckon he’s just here to spy on us.”

“Who?”

“Dec. They say the elves know all about those who came before. Those who should not be named.”

“The ancient race?”

“Them,” he said. “Bunch of ritualists. One day, those adventurers will disturb something and release merry hell on this place. I’ve heard there are monsters on the rampage in the Evermore.”

“Yep, we’ve accepted the commission to kill them. I’m with Thadius—”

“Extrael. Yes, I know who you’re with. He dropped by late last night to say you’d be in and to send him the bill.”

Josh decided to chance his arm. “You’ve been around a bit—know a few people, a few things.”

“Yup.”

“Have you ever heard of a sorcerer called Maechellion?”

Henry whipped out a handkerchief, brushing his brow. He sat, breathing heavily like he was about to have a heart attack. “Don’t mention that name. Don’t ever mention that name, but if you do, if you insist, then talk to Dec. He knows. The elves know.” Henry tapped his nose. “Now, if you want your boots, you’re going to have to let me get on. You can’t keep me talking all day. Be off with you. Ham and eggs—that’s what you want. Ham and eggs and forget about everything I said.”

Arabella and Thadius were snickering when Josh arrived in the tavern. He paused in the doorway, noting Dec behind the counter. Ignoring the elf, he approached the table, standing over them. “You bastards,” he said.

Thadius tucked into his ham and eggs. “What?” he said innocently.

“You knew what Henry was like, yet you sent me there alone. He didn’t stop. He chatted incessantly. How could you? And you warned her—you warned her but not me.” He pointed at Arabella.

“Those are some serious accusations you are leveling at me, Josh. You do realize that I am an important part of your growing family?”

“No excuse.”

“The ham and eggs are good, and don’t forget that I endured him to arrange the bill. I think I know who you’re mad at.” He glanced at Arabella, who shrank into her seat.

“Someone was tipped off,” Josh said and sat. “So boots ready in an hour, what’s the plan?”

“The plan is simple. You train with Carl for an hour while I go and fetch the girls, and then we load up and head for the Evermore. I’m unsure what this is all about, but Turnic was right. It seems like a mighty large coincidence to me. We start poking around, Calico shows up, and monsters begin spawning. I don’t blame him for being suspicious.”

“Ah,” said Josh. “About that. I have a little confession to make.”

He told them about the colossus, how the sorcerer had spoken to him, and issued his warning.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I was getting to it, but we arrived at Turnic’s before I could. Then, when he mentioned the coincidence, I thought it best to keep quiet. I’ll be honest; after that, it slipped my mind. I just wanted to chill out with Arabella and learn more about the land’s lore.”

“Hmm, probably best I didn’t know. Would have weakened my bargaining. It was a nice touch taking the lower amount and then adding in the heads.” He rubbed his hands together. “If it’s a hydra, we’re in business!”

“That’s part of it,” Josh said. “The sorcerer said monsters—plural. So, it's always going to be more than one head.”

“Perhaps I’ll leave the negotiations up to you. There’s a reason I’m several thousand gold coins behind our friend the King’s Slayer.”

“We’ll swing that around.” Josh had witnessed Calico stealing the lucrative quests out from under Thadius’ nose. He would have to deal with it if his family were going to thrive. But at that moment, he had other things on his plate, so he let it go. “I’m ordering up. Plus, I want a word with Dec.”

He strolled to the bar, trying to be as casual as possible. The elf-human hybrid was busy washing mugs, so Josh cleared his throat to attract Dec’s attention. “Can I order ham and eggs, please?”

“Sure,” he said, his accent slightly different from the locals, but not overly so.

“And Dec—it is Dec, isn’t it?”

Dec looked at him, his green eyes more pastel than Arabella’s, more like jade than emerald, making them look like they were glazed with cataracts. “Dec, yes. Why?”

“Look, I haven’t got time now. I’m, err, we’re due to head out to the Evermore to fight some monsters, but when I’m back, can I ask you about something?”

“Depends what.”

“Maechellion. The sorcerer, Maechellion. What do you know of him?”

Dec took a step back, glancing all around the tavern. “Why would I know anything about him?” He leaned close, hissing into Josh’s ear. “Shut the fuck up, man. You’re going to get me killed.”

“I didn’t—”

“Look, yeah, I’ll meet you. But not here.”

“Where then?”

“The Evermore. I’ll catch up with you. I’ll grab a couple of days off.” He leaned back, glancing at Thadius. “They didn’t tell him because he’s not supposed to be tarnished. You gotta keep him clean. That’s all I’m saying.” Dec stepped away. “It comes with ham and eggs. What do you think ham and eggs are?”

Josh blinked and shook his head, walking away, wondering what the hell he’d stumbled into.

“Is everything so complicated around here?” he asked.

“It’s Mythelore,” Thadius said. “Nothing is ever what it seems, and what it is can’t be trusted, either. You’ll get used to it or end up dead.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” said Arabella.

Shadows played a game with Josh inside the dimly lit barn, veiling Carl’s intent and masking his movements. Josh squinted as he battled the harsh contrast. Red shaded Carl, which signaled the weapons master’s intention to win, to hurt and test him again. They stepped around the crude stone-lined arena, Carl dragging the strewn straw, making small piles. Josh had no clue why he did it, but it served a purpose, that much he was sure of. The tang of sweat and hay hung in the air, mingling with the weight of anticipation as they both waited for the other to strike. Two serpents eyeing up each other, both intent on delivering a killing blow as swiftly as possible.

Carl, the embodiment of fierce experience, gripped his wooden spear as if it were an extension of his soul. Its tip glinted with sunlight that slipped through gaps in the rafters, picking up light motes as it bled down in blinding pillars. Carl’s voice, gravelly and unyielding, cut through the quiet anticipation. “You're holding a proper weapon now, Josh. A spear’s not a thing of brute force but one of leverage and precision. Remember that. If you treat it like an idiot’s weapon, that’s all it will ever be. In the right hands, with the right brain, it’s better than any fancy sword.”

Josh swallowed, his throat dry. The memory of his last fight with Carl as fresh in his mind as it was, no doubt, in Carl’s. But he held his head high. Carl had only beaten him at the end. This time, however, he was at a severe disadvantage. His spear had no tip, and a ball covered its end, making it damn near impossible for him to hurt Carl—a wise move on the trainer’s part.

They began. The barn’s walls narrowed, the air growing heavier as the sweat of anticipation dripped into Josh’s eyes. The spear became an extension of him, and though he had no chance, the ring’s presence comforted him as it watched Carl’s every movement, each subtle change in his stance, each variation in his expression. It was hunting down the fatal tells that man and beast alike had—those that could mean the difference between defeat and victory.

Carl’s attacks came swiftly and relentlessly, his strikes a predator's calculated lunges. Josh parried. Each defensive stroke was a testament to the ring’s ability to learn on the fly. He twisted, dodged, and countered, his moves becoming as intricate as Carl's as he backed around the square, always judging his position, never stepping outside.

Carl’s deep-throated laughter mingled with the sound of steel against wood as he prodded, jinked, and even swung the spear with elegance belying his large frame. Carl danced around the tiny arena, his baggy shirt flowing with his long hair, his prowess an art form in itself. But Josh matched him, the speed of the ring’s learning fascinating and confusing both men.

And then, in a split-second misjudgment, it happened. Carl feinted, his movement a deceptive flourish, and before Josh could react, Carl scooped a pile of straw up, threw it in his face, and lunged, his spear finding its mark. Blood blossomed in a violent, scarlet bloom as the spear grazed Josh’s side, stealing his breath as the pain seared through him. He instantly regretted not using his Call to Arms, but he’d done it with good reason. He had to increase his durability, and pain was an excellent way to do that. He sank to one knee, holding his side, his face twisted with hurt.

“Get up,” Carl growled, his expression misted with anger, his urge to hurt Josh not sated. “Get up. That’s just a graze to you. A monster won’t stop, you know. It’ll have your throat if you let down your guard.”

“He’s right, Josh, you must keep fighting,” Arabella said, though her tone said something completely different.

With a stubbornness forged in days by a need to get stronger, Josh let his side go, blood burping out, and picked up his spear. She was right. He wasn’t done. Carl was right. He had to fight on. Josh launched a furious attack, the ring unleashing its gathered knowledge. The wooden ball hit Carl once, twice, three times as he refused to back down, blood soaking Josh’s side, his groin, and his leg.

Carl backed away, taken by surprise, the ferocity of Josh’s assault undefendable. He tried slashing his spear, tried countering, but Josh batted the spear away with his arm, his leg, hand, or foot, swiveling into incredible positions, defying gravity, physics, everything, as one after the other, his spear’s wooden ball battered the unfortunate Carl, who eventually tripped back over the stone as he fell out of the ring.

Josh followed, eager to continue his barrage, but Arabella was there, holding him back, stopping him. “Enough, Josh, enough. He’s had enough. What’s wrong with you?”

Josh glared at her, her beauty permeating his rage, diluting it, calming it. “Monsters don’t stop,” he said and threw the spear down. “They never stop, not until they’re beaten.”

He walked from the ring, sitting, munching on some bread while he waited for his upgrade.

Upgrading speed and agility

Speed and agility +2

Upgrading durability

Durability +1

Upgrading Combat Instinct

Combat instinct +1

New Score =

Strength = 9

Speed and Agility = 9

Durability = 19

Combat instinct = 11

Arcane resistance = 6

Average = 10.8

Chapter Twenty-Nine

SUNLIGHT WARMED JOSH’S FACE. He took a long draft of water, his chest glistening with sweat. Elowen glanced at him, the silence awkward for both of them, but that was to be expected. He stoppered the bottle and tucked it under the wagon’s bench.

“What got you into archaeology?” he asked.

Ahead, Arabella glanced back. Thadius and her led, their wagon bouncing along the uneven trail as they traveled toward Thiswick. The route took them along a broad valley, grassed escarpments on both sides, dappled with trees, streaked with streams and brooks that twisted and turned, falling down black-rock bluffs and pooling in thick loam. It was a colorful place, dotted with countless flowers, that lent the grass a sheen, rippling under the afternoon sun, blurred to a watercolor by its haze.

“I wanted to find out what killed my father. There aren’t any Schools of Monster Study, so I chose archaeology. It was as close as I could get. I’m like you in that respect. I can’t accept monsters without understanding where they come from.”

Elowen was a little awkward, but then Arabella had thrust them together at the start of the trip, saying they had to get to know each other if everything was going to work. That pressure had the reverse effect, and both hastily erected barriers to fence themselves off.

Josh decided he needed to train, so he jogged alongside to give him some space, and Elowen pretended the grind of the cart’s wheels prevented her from hearing anything he had to say. So, they’d traveled on in silence.

Josh needed to wrestle with his inner self anyway, so it suited him. He’d wanted to kill Carl—would have killed him if Carl hadn’t given him a training spear rather than an ordinary one. The urge to dominate, to utterly destroy the man had been overwhelming, and he’d concluded that it was his first glimpse into the driving force behind the aliens. It was a need to win and to dominate his enemy utterly.

The brutal urge would serve him well in monster fights, but made sparring a little more dangerous than it had to be. He’d also have to watch himself if he got into a bar fight. He’s witnessed spacers when the red mist had hold of them. Usually, amicable folks turned into complete assholes with the flip of some mental switch. It came from the claustrophobia life on a tin can gave you. He didn’t want to be that guy. He’d seen the uncertainty in Arabella’s eyes as she tended to Carl. It was close to fear—fear of him.

“I beat the shit out of him,” Josh said.

“Sorry?” Elowen replied. “What are we talking about?”

Josh told her, and he left nothing out. “So, I think I must learn to control my rage,” he concluded.

Then, like they’d found some common ground, she shifted closer to him. “Arabella’s told me all about the ring. Can I touch it?”

He held his hand out, her finger brushing his ring gently. She put her glasses on, perching them on the end of her nose while inspecting the alien artifact closely. “It’s spread its tendrils under your skin. I’ll bet it’s linked to your nervous system. I think you’ll be okay if you nip it in the bud.”

“Nip what in the bud?” he asked, noticing she’d not let go.

“It’s simple. The ring has a personality. Many magical artifacts have, and you know more about that than we do because you call it tech. However, that isn’t to say if we’d recently dug it up, we couldn’t draw similarities. So, let’s imagine it’s got a spell controlling its magic rather than the tech word you rely on. That spell is what we in the field call an enduring spell. That is to say, it has no expiration date. If you were to talk to the professors of theology and philosophy, they would hypothesize that any spell of a decent span takes on the characteristics of a thinking being—it awakens. They would say it has to adapt and survive because of its duration. The same can be said here. The spell inside the ring has had a similar alteration to its reality as you. It has had to change. If it’s capable of change, it can be construed as alive. So, my conclusion would be there are now two of you inside one body. There’s Josh, who, up until this point, has always been in charge, and there’s the ring, which grows in confidence as you encourage it rather than control it. My thoughts are simple. You have to show it who’s boss.”

“Show it who’s boss?” Josh repeated as the simplicity of her solution hit home.

“Yes, you are in a relationship now. Just because it is a ring doesn’t make it any different. I see it this way: one of you has to be dominant, the other subservient. You must be the dominant one while the ring serves you. But remember, just because a partner is subservient, it doesn’t demean them in any way, shape, or form. A sub can express an opinion, can contribute equally; she will, however, always bend to the will of the dominant partner.”

He glanced at her. “Are we still talking about the ring?”

She blushed. “It translates to other things.”

“How come you know so much about relationships? I had you with your nose stuck in dusty books, reading about old buildings.”

She smirked, poking her tiny tongue out. “A popular misconception. Buildings are dwellings or places of work. Those are the two types, and each is interconnected. Archaeology studies the people who make those buildings through the remnants of the same buildings. Take the ruins. Once we’d discovered the watchtower was a wizard’s tower, it became obvious to me that it was all a religious site, with the religion being the sorcerer’s evil magic. It was all his crucible, designed to mix his otherworldly spells. I think he was a summoner.”

Josh sat back, absorbing her avalanche of words. He listened for her inflections, the shortness of her breath as he appreciated it was nerves driving that tumble of words. She needed to talk to stop herself from having a full-blown panic attack.

“That’s huge,” he said. “So, do you think he could be responsible for these monsters? He did threaten to unleash them, and then they appeared.”

“I don’t understand magic enough to know how that would be possible. If the sorcerer is trapped in the colossus, how can he project a summoning spell to the Evermore Forest?”

Josh shrugged. “Not a clue.” He shuffled closer, pulling her hand onto his lap. “But let’s say neither of us know anything about magic. Let’s have some fun. Make up a way to do it, then I’ll make up a way too.”

“Doesn’t matter if I’m wrong?”

“Doesn’t matter if your explanation is so daft that it defies any chance of it being right.”

“You go first. I need to think.”

Josh screwed his face up. “Right, I’m going with symbols. I think this has all been meticulously planned. His civilization was on the brink of collapse—war was coming, some huge marauding army that his people could not beat. So, he knew he’d die. Rather than accept that, he poured all his magic into creating the colossus where he hid, a mere remnant of what he was. But, he knew over the course of thousands of years, his power would grow, and he’d return. He also knew the world would be different. So, he placed totems and charms all around. He put two in the colossus’ eyes so he could observe all. He placed totems deep in the Evermore so that he could summon monsters as his forerunners. As his power grew, he regained the ability to move the colossus’ head and turned it toward the Evermore, sending his activation spell along his sightline and summoning the monsters.”

“Not bad,” she said. “But it has some flaws. First, he’s slept for centuries. How would he know his totems would survive? Anything could have happened to them. A wild boar could have destroyed them, or fire might have ravaged the forest, destroying them. After centuries, they could be buried like the ruins. Then there’s the spell projection. What if a building had been erected in its way or if the army had toppled the colossus? Too full of holes. A sorcerer who’d planned that far ahead would have foreseen all those things.”

Josh shrugged. “It was a good stab. Go on then, brains, your go.”

“I’m going with dark ley lines. I think the sorcerer placed his tower on the convergence of all the southern ley lines. He oriented the ruins so they faced east to west or west to east, and he placed the colossus at the end of the alley and along the main east-west meridian. So, the sorcerer, once powerful enough, could channel his arcane desires along the meridian and to his tower. There, deep under his library at the convergence of the ley lines, he could then select the destination for his first summoning spell. Deep in the Evermore, there is a magical node. These nodes connect our world with others through magical portals. His dark spell traveled to the Evermore node, where an exchange occurred. Several lumberyard workers were instantly transported to a monster world, while dozens of monsters tore through the temporal portal and invaded the forest.” She squeezed his hand. “There, what do you think of that?”

“That is actually quite feasible. Ley lines are supposed to exist—magnetic channels under the earth that link poles. So, in a magical land, what’s to say magical ley lines don’t exist, and if magical ley lines exist, then there must be two opposing poles—dark magic and light magic. Therefore, there are two magical disciplines—light and dark—good and evil. Therefore, our evil sorcerer can use the ley lines. Not sure about the nodes, but hell, we’re spitballing here. You win.”

“Yay!” she said, raising her hands in triumph. “How come you know so much about ley lines? I thought it was an archaeology thing.”

“I took navigation as a side course while studying. There are theories that these lines exist between stars, that they could, in theory, be used to travel along, but no one ever had the tech.”

“What about your enemies?”

“No, they had similar tech to us when it came to travel.”

She screwed her face up. “So, how come they made that ring? If they were the same as you, surely what was beyond you was beyond them?”

Josh was beginning to understand how intelligent Elowen was. She was fast and could pick things up instantly. He’d only mentioned tech once to her, yet she had digested it and appeared to understand it well. Her question also poked one that had been growing in him. Who had they been fighting? The aliens or the rings? He was beginning to think that the ring was, in fact, controlled by an advanced AI beyond anything he could understand. If that were the case, then he really would have to be on his guard.

“Yeah, and that brings us full circle back to me controlling it rather than the reverse.”

“I think you’ll be fine.”

“Why?” he asked.

She reached up, turned his cheek, and planted a kiss on it. “Because you have Arabella, and she’ll keep you on the right path. Because, perhaps, you might have Cassandra someday, and while she’s a little out there, she’s strong, wise—” Elowen shrugged “—a bit dim in some respects, but sharp in others. Together, they’ll be your rocks.”

“What about you?”

She scoffed. “What about me? I’m Elowen, the bookworm. Cassandra’s a sexy witch. Arabella is stunning. She can hunt, track, do anything. She’s beautiful, funny, bubbly.”

“You’re beautiful too. And you’re smart—smart is sexy as fuck.”

“Smart is so not sexy.”

“It is to me. I like chatting like this. This is real. It’s a life, and I want to spend it with interesting people, and you are one of them.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He clapped, reaching under the bench and grabbing the water bottle. “Time for me to get training again. I will run a little ahead; keep a lookout in case the monsters are around.”

He made to jump off the wagon, but Elowen grabbed his arm. “Thank you,” she said. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For talking to me like I was more than an academic,” she said. “If you hadn’t come along, I’d have been stuck inside myself for years, too.” She pulled him close, kissing him full on the lips.

“Is that allowed?” he said with a smile. “Should you be kissing me?”

“Arabella’s my best friend. We share everything. I thought she told you that.” She turned away, her cheeks flushed once more, and focused on the trail ahead.

Josh jumped down, knowing when it was good to make an exit. If Arabella had thrown them together to see if they could gel, she’d got her answer. Elowen was good company, but she was a mystery that needed unraveling. He hoped to be the man to do it.

He held back, letting her get ahead of him, then checked on Cassandra, who was singing away with a hawk sat by her. She acknowledged him with a smile and a seductive wink and waved him on. So he raced forward. Drawing aside Thadius and Arabella, he let them know he was scouting ahead. Then he was gone, racing up the gentle slope, over the ridge, the valley before him opening up, a mottled patchwork of grass and dark forest.

He squinted, narrowing his eyes as he tried to make out what he saw. There was a village, at least, it appeared to be one, but it was scruffy, looked too spread out, and parts of it were blackened like there had been a terrible fire. The name Thiswick came to him, and he remembered that Thadius had named it the central one of the three villages.

Thiswick acted as a hub, taking all the lumber from Denton and Grendle. It had a market where merchants would come from the north to purchase its famous cedar. But it didn’t look like an important village. It didn’t look like anything more than what it had become, which was a wreck.

Thiswick lay in ruins, every building destroyed, some even gutted by fire. Then he realized that the dots he could see peppering the place were bodies, and he understood they were all dead—that the monsters had killed them and hadn’t even bothered to eat them, and somehow, that made it even more revolting.

He jogged back, standing in front of Arabella and Thadius’ cart.

“Thiswick,” he said. “Gone.”

Chapter Thirty

THE STENCH OF BLOATING CORPSES, rotting flesh, and emptied bowels hit them before they turned the last sweeping curve into Thiswick. A breeze drifted down the valley, coming from its end, a horseshoe of hills clad in the cedars the forest was famous for. Josh tied a neckerchief around his nose, his stomach churning at the vile stench.

Soon after, they came to their first corpse and immediately understood why the scavengers had steered clear. Black rot had hold of it, dark lines mapping sludgy veins, gray smudging from them. Thadius crouched down, his cloak drawn up over his nose. He called Cassandra over, pointing. She moved the corpse’s arms and legs with her staff, scrutinizing it, then leaning over, pushing its eyelids up with her gloved fingers. They both retired to the side of the road, and Josh ambled over to them.

“What do we think?”

“Magically enhanced necrotic damage,” Cassandra said. “The creature can inject poison loaded with a magical replicator into its victim that causes severe necrosis, which then takes over the entire body. This unfortunate man got away, but one bite on his hand did it. It put enough corruption in him for the spell to root and end him. He got this far, then succumbed to, I’m guessing, an agonizing death. He rotted to death where he lay.”

“Lovely,” Josh said. “I suppose it explains why we have corpses, not fat scavengers.”

“It also presents us with a grim task. We should burn the corpses. If we leave them, the necrosis might spread, especially if rooted in the arcane. Josh and I will begin the task of gathering the corpses. You three make the fire.”

“No,” Josh said. “I have the ring—I have the durability. If the necrosis infects me, I have a chance—the ring might counter it and might even come out of it stronger.”

Thadius nodded but said nothing. He knew Josh spoke the truth, but it was hard for him to sit back and let another take a risk in his place. He eventually accepted it. “Come then, let’s find a barrow. We’ll build a pyre in the village’s center.” He looked up. “It’ll finish the day off. We’ll make camp upwind of it, though whether we have the stomach to eat is another matter.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Cassandra. “I could eat a horse.”

Josh strolled into the village and then continued to its other end. He dropped his neckerchief, breathing in the untainted air. “I’ll start here and move to the center. At least I’ll get some breathers.”

Thadius retrieved a wheelbarrow, and they began the grim task. The girls soon had a fire going, and Josh made the most of his increased strength to throw the corpses onto it. Cassandra used her magic to keep the fire hot, vaporizing the bodies as they bubbled and spat their foul fluid around.

Midway through, Josh stopped. Black pitted his skin, the necrosis getting a hold on him. He chose to say nothing, hoping the ring would counter it, not wanting to worry the others. Dusk had fallen by the time he’d completed his gruesome task. By then, his palms were black with infection. He was lightheaded, his throat parched and scratchy, like he was getting a cold. He stumbled to a brook, then ran around the back of the village, dismissed his shirt and jacket, took off his pants and boots, and jumped in, trying to scrub the corruption from him.

But it crawled up to his wrists, black lines radiating from them. His dizziness worsened. He plunged his head into the freezing water, gulping it down, urging his ring to cleanse and rid him of the malignance inside him. His perception finally signaled his peril, flashing red, telling him far too late that he was in trouble.

His knees buckled, his head spinning, and he collapsed face down in the brook, his consciousness fading as the poison reached his brain, turning his blood into sludge.

Voices. He could hear distant voices, but it was like he was in another room, listening to someone else’s conversation. A woman’s voice—Cassandra. She was trying something, but he didn’t know what. Warmth grew in his heart, forcing it to start, to pump his viscous blood around. The first thump echoed in his empty head, his brain shriveled and dead. The liquid forced itself through, powered by the heat. Words came to him again—soft chanting—words in a strange language that slowly made sense but made no sense at all. He understood them, or rather, the ring understood them, but they were meaningless, calling on the wind to blow the poison away, the water to scrub its corruption, the earth to leach it from him, and fire to consume it.

The ring recognized each element, air, water, fire, and earth, and it slowly understood the spell, magnifying its signals and sending them all about, emitting them like radar pulses, commanding as the spell had commanded—calling on the hidden power all about.

It tried to understand that power—the basis of Cassandra’s naturalist magic, but it was beyond logical explanation as magic itself defied those strictures, just as it understood the quantum world bent its knee to chaos. It had accepted that—even built technology on the foundations of its chaos. So it could accept that magic was similar, but it couldn’t call it chaos, so it named it wild. With a name, it began collating everything it knew about wild magic, but it was only one spell, and that spell appeared to draw life-enhancing wild magic from the elements to snuff out the necrotic dark magic. Even with multiple attempts at analyzing the mechanics of it all—the reason behind it—it could fathom nothing.

With its absence of understanding confirmed, it resorted to magnification because its host was dying, which simply wouldn’t do. The wild magic helped, but the spell wasn’t powerful enough. The range the caster could draw from didn’t hold enough of the required elements.

“I can’t pull anymore,” Cassandra said, desolation coloring her words. “The magic is too new to me. I don’t know how to increase it.”

Josh’s mind ticked over, grasping at her words and feeding them to the ring, telling it to help and confirming what it already knew. It had to magnify the magician. She’d confirmed she was too weak and, in doing so, confirmed its deductions, too. It redoubled its effort, tuning to the witch’s demands as it had tuned into her strange language.

Then, it felt the power surge as it cycled through a million combinations and hit the correct one. The power was pure, like liquid vitality. It drew it from everything, its light blinding. The power polarized Josh’s body, jerking every organ into overdrive, thinning his blood, forcing the necrosis from every pore, convulsing his stomach to vomit it out, contracting his bowels, emptying his bladder of its black urine.

He opened his eyes but could only see black. He tried to listen but only caught muffled shrieks and the sound of people vomiting. He tried to rise, but he had no power. He tried to cry out, but black necrosis caked his mouth.

He rolled, splashing into the water, and he lay there as the brook sloughed the poison from him. Then gentle fingers brushed the black scales from his eyes. Someone scrubbed his chest. Someone else washed his legs. He opened his eyes. Arabella crouched over him, scrubbing his neck and shoulders. Elowen worked a pumice stone over his chest while Cassandra flanneled his groin, buttocks, and legs. Then, when clean, Thadius waded into the water, lifting him with a grunt. The old man took him to a makeshift cot by a new fire, in the woods, away from the destroyed village.

Arabella propped him up and spooned stew into his mouth while Cassandra massaged the blood back into his legs, and Elowen rubbed his hands, mentioning something about extremities. The broth slipped into his stomach, its nourishment spreading through him.

He accepted the ring’s voice, knowing it would come—that what he’d set out to achieve had been reached, but that the cost had very nearly killed him.

He’d raised his durability by one and his Arcane Resistance by four. He’d nearly died once more, but the ring had pulled him from the brink.

Josh woke the following morning with a boner. If there was a measure of his health, its presence immediately informed him that the sickness that had nearly killed him was gone. A man on his deathbed didn’t get a morning twitcher. It didn’t happen. So, before opening his eyes, he knew he’d beaten the corruption.

And so did Cassandra.

“I see you’re all well again,” she said as she filed her long nails. “Impressive cock, by the way. I was a little disappointed yesterday, but then I didn’t get to see it in all its glory, did I? Cold water’s a bugger, isn’t it, and seeing all that black shit spewing out of it didn’t do much for me, I have to say. But seeing it trying to hammer your belly button deeper into your gut, well, it swings things around for me. I’m intrigued again, very nearly snuck a quick fiddle in, but the old man’s a light sleeper, and once I get myself going, I don’t hold back.”

“The fuck?” Josh said. “Where’s my blanket?”

She screwed her face up. “You were still a bit sweaty, and I kept the fire going all night so you could sweat out any residual shit in you. It’s best.” She inspected her nail, swiveled around, and faced him. “You and I have to talk.”

“Can I have a blanket?”

“Let’s put it like this. If I lay there as naked as a new day, would you want me to cover up?”

“No.”

She raised her eyebrows. “There. You’ve answered your own question, and thanks for the compliment, by the way. But we still need to talk.”

Josh had a fair idea of what she wanted to talk about, but as she took the lead, he chose to follow. “About what?”

“We both know it wasn’t my feeble stab at healing magic that cured you, don’t we?”

“Hard to say. I can tell you what I felt, but have the feeling my brain was the size of a moldy walnut at the time, so I might be completely mistaken.”

“Let’s roll with it, anyway.”

“Okay. Here’s what I remember. I felt your power. It was like a bright sun inside me, but instead of emanating light, it drew it in from all around—specifically the air, the earth, the water, and the fire. The light polarized inside me and then fought the corruption.”

She reached forward, tapping his cock with her finger and making it twitch. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.” She crossed her legs, scratching her nose. “That was my feelings exactly, except you saw a bright sun. I pictured a speck. My speck had no chance against the army of black corruption inside you, and thus, I thought you’d died.” She uncrossed her legs, reaching again and, this time, flicking his cock. “Seriously, how can you have one of those and not play with it? I’d be fucking around, jamming it in everything I could if I had one. Must be like having a little pet.”

A surge of desire flowed through him. He closed his eyes, trying to compose. The prize was close. Cassandra was close. But the land worked by The Code Arabella had laid out, and he wasn’t about to screw up a lifetime of witch-boning for a quickie in the woods.

“Seriously? Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

“I have a good idea. I’m doing it to myself, too. But then. I always had a masochistic streak. I’m wetter than a mermaid’s dream at the moment. Shall we get back to the magic?”

“Please.” He reached around, finding a blanket and finally covering himself.

“Shame,” she said, “but probably a good move. So, all of a sudden, I lost control of my spell. In case you didn’t know, a spell is always tied to the caster until it expires. The tie might be as thin as a gossamer thread or as thick as a rope, but it's always there.”

“Was it about the time a huge power influx occurred? Because that’s when the ring understood what you were up to and took over. I think it increased the range and pull of your original magic.”

“That was exactly the time,” she said. “So, looking from the outside in, I saw this. You erupted, your whole body turned blinding white, and you drove the corruption from yourself in the blink of an eye. It spewed from every one of your sweat pores, nose, mouth, eyes, and ears—cock and ass, too, if you must know. It was fucking gross; I don’t mind telling you. Fucking gross.”

“A blinding white light?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you see?” he asked, a surge of happiness racing through him.

“See? See what?”

“My ring didn’t understand the magic—I got that much from it. But it mimicked what you did. It had no idea why your spell worked, but saw it worked on a micro-scale, so reproduced it on the macro.”

“What? What? Mythelorian, please.”

“It saw your spell worked, then reproduced it on a grander scale.”

“How does that help us?”

“Because it shows you how far you can go if you practice. It was your spell that healed me. To do what the ring did, you have to get better at it—that’s it. You’ve cracked healing magic. You only need to practice.”

“And that means you are a harmonic,” Thadius said, his voice breaking the silence. “So, it’s time you began acting the part.”

“What part?”

“You, Cassandra, your part. You are a powerful sorceress. Stop hiding behind the feeble country witch mask. Without you, Josh would be dead. The ring wouldn’t have had anything to magnify.”

She laughed, slapping the air. “Oh, darling, that’s so nice of you to say, but I haven’t got a clue how to be more powerful.”

Thadius rose, walking over to her. “But the ring just told you. You have to focus your power. You have to focus your mind. You must believe, Cassandra, believe, and it will become second nature. You will become the most powerful magic wielder in all of Mythelore.”

Deep cries rang out as his words hung in the crisp morning air—a man’s panicked voice. Josh jumped up, grabbed his pants, pulled them on, then called for his shirt and jacket. A man ran up to them, eyes wide with terror.

“They’re coming. They’re coming. Run for your lives!”

Chapter Thirty-One

JOSH HEARD a rustle behind him as he buckled his boots.

“This way!” a voice called quietly. “Quick, or you’re all dead.”

He glanced around. Dec crouched close by, the moody-looking elf urging them away from the camp.

“Go,” Josh said, “I’ll grab the villager.”

“He’s already dead,” the elf said and vanished into the forest.

“Go! Go! Go!” Josh urged, intent on chasing the peasant.

The wolf appeared on the forest's edge, stalking onto the road. It was big, perhaps half the size again of a normal wolf. Its mangy fur hung in clumps, patches of rotten skin poking through. Its eyes glowed green, black saliva dripping from its mouth as it pawed the ground, its gaze locking on the running man.

Josh scrambled around, looking for a weapon, but during that moment’s hesitation, five more wolves appeared, flanking the first, then racing out onto the road. They were fast, bounding after the unfortunate villager, catching him in moments, pulling him down, and ripping him to pieces.

Josh turned, shaking his head, his frustration and anger growing. He slipped into the forest, glimpsing Arabella’s flowing cloak as she raced up the hill. They came to a narrow cut, Dec leading them up and into a small cave. He whipped around, counting them in.

“I thought you a fine monster hunter, yet you leave yourself exposed like that?” Dec said.

Thadius pulled a long blade from under his cloak. “I could have taken most of them, but I’ll admit, I’m adapting to having a team. I’m in your debt, Dec, isn’t it?”

“It is, Elf-friend. I wanted to keep you out of this, but the opportunity has passed.” He walked deeper into the cave. “Follow me.”

“Hold right there,” Josh said. “Tell us what’s happening. I’m a bit of a novice at this, but those aren’t ordinary monsters.”

The elf stared at him. “You wanted to know about Maechellion. Follow me, and I’ll show you.”

He picked up a torch, muttered a couple of words, and it burst into flame. They traveled into the gloom, the path smooth, coming to a set of downward steps leading to a tunnel that stretched endlessly, its walls damp and uneven, as if hewn by time and not man. Dec’s torchlight cast shadows on the walls, revealing faded paintings, simple drawings, and the echoes of a civilization long passed. The scent of damp earth filled the stale air as silence sat over them like a brooding cloud.

And then, as if emerging from a dream, they stepped into a vast underground chamber that defied comprehension. The torchlight flickered, revealing an expanse that stretched beyond their field of vision. Intricate carvings adorned the cavern’s walls, the tales of the ancient civilization long lost to the annals of history.

The floor was uneven, scattered with debris and the remnants of a world once grand, since crumbled and decayed. As they advanced, as the torchlight encroached, it became clear what they trod on.

“They’re bones,” Josh said. “Human bones.”

Once seen, the bones were everywhere, a scattered puzzle, the remnants of a thriving population. Buildings, long ago grand and towering, now lay as fragmented ruins. The city’s layout was labyrinthine, a maze of streets and alleys. Worn statues jumped out from the gloom as Dec’s torchlight brushed them. No one talked, all hoping no beasts would disturb their exploration.

“This way,” Dec said, uncharacteristically wasting words. None of them had any intention of not following the elf.

He led them up stone steps and into a grand hall, marching in, turning by an altar, and slipping through a door into a small room. He lit a few other torches, then slotted his into a holder. Once Josh was inside, the elf closed the door, rolling a rock against it.

“Explain,” Thadius said.

Dec stared at him, his eyes blank, devoid of any emotion. “This is no ordinary monster hunt, old man. It is the start of something new, something terrible.” He pulled out a bag, offering them each a wrapped parcel. “Eat, drink, and I will tell you what I know.”

They swapped glances, settling, opening their parcels, and taking out a sandwich. Dec remained standing. “I had to act when Josh told me he intended to come out here and hunt monsters. I had already scouted the area. I’d seen the beasts, and my heart had sunk. It’s a poorly kept secret, but I am part elf, part human. I bridge two civilizations that don’t mix, apart from Thadius. What we regard as history has been rewritten. If you look closely enough at the ruins, that is what they tell you. Everything you know is a lie. The elves and humans never ignored each other. They slaughtered each other in their hundreds. Humans encroached on elven lands. They did so without any consideration. A war was fought, an honorable one, until Maechellion came.

“He created a vast magical structure that you now call the Ruins of Elrima. Its purpose was simple: to gather magic from the land, to focus it and store it. While this occurred, the Mythelorian settlers built this place. The elves attacked repeatedly, knowing the sorcerer had created something that altered the land's magic. Then, one day, the colossus appeared. Knowing this was the culmination of the sorcerer’s plans, the elves attacked in force but found no trace of the Mythelorians. As they raced around the ruins of the lost city of Elrima, the sorcerer unleashed his attack.

“He was inside the colossus, watching all. He waited until all the elves were in his trap, then sprung it, his evil magic spewing from the colossus, waking hundreds of beasts like those you saw today. They ripped into the elves, tearing them limb from limb, filling them with their corruption. But, and this is where I’m blurring fact and fiction, the sorcerer overreached. He couldn’t control the beasts, and once they’d slaughtered all the elves, they searched for other victims. One group headed for the elven lands, but the remaining elves had felt the eruption of magic and destroyed the bridge before the wolves arrived. The others raced here, smelling new prey. The Mythelorians didn’t stand a chance. They were ripped apart where they cowered, not one surviving.”

Dec unwrapped his sandwich, taking a bite from it.

“That explains what happened to the first settlers,” Elowen said.

“My guess is that the Maechellion was drained of all power as the wolves stretched his spell beyond its natural boundaries,” Cassandra said.

“Which is why there’s only six of them,” Arabella said. “It’s all that he can manage.”

“At the moment,” Thadius said.

“How do we kill them?” Josh asked.

“The six originated here. They’ll return here at night and sleep in a sacrificial chamber in the temple. I think it’s no coincidence that they built this place here. There must be some convergence of magic that made it favorable.”

“Ley lines,” Elowen said. “I knew it.”

“As to how to kill them, I’d imagine you kill them however you normally kill a wolf. The only difference is that if you let them bite you, then you’re dead. Or that was what I thought until I saw Josh become infected and survive.”

Josh finished his sandwich and stood. “It’s an easy choice. I have to kill them. I’m the only one who can survive a bite. And before any of you protest, it’s my choice, my decision. And the only correct one. But there is something you can do to help me.”

Josh took up a position at the end of the room. He’d dismissed his shirt and jacket, a single word removing them. He stood against the wall, a wooden strip in his mouth. He nodded.

Cassandra positioned herself opposite him. She held three knives in her hand and muttered her spell. A bloom of white magic grew over them, crackling lightning housed within it. She looked up, moving her hands away and pointing at Josh while screaming, “Destante tork!”

The daggers streaked toward him.

Josh’s perception, already misted with mauve, blinked red as it sensed physical damage coming as well as the arcane. An urge to don his protective armor assailed him. He bit down, refusing to comply as the daggers hit him, barely penetrating before falling out of the shallow wounds.

He removed the wood strip. “You’re holding back. You’ll need to give it everything you’ve got to get through my new durability.”

Arabella picked up the knives, handing them back to the witch. “Do it. It might save him.”

Cassandra took up her position again, conjuring her magic, releasing the knives, and throwing her hands forward.

“Destante tork!”

The knives surged forward. Josh bit down on his wood as his vision cycled between mauve and red. The blades tore into him, ripping through his tough skin, plunging through his flesh, stopping only when hilt-deep. Arabella pulled them out. Elowen offered him a water bottle.

“This isn’t right,” Dec said.

“If it helps him kill the wolves, then it’s worth it,” Thadius said, but regret laced his words.

“Again,” Josh said.

Cassandra took the bloodied knives from Arabella. “This better bloody well work because I’m dying here.”

“It’ll work,” Arabella told her. “Josh knows what he’s doing.”

“Destante tork!”

The knives flew.

“Destante tork!”

“Destante tork!”

“Destante tork!”

“Destante tork!”

Assessing need

Basic attributes deemed inadequate

Basic senses deemed adequate

Working on solutions to enhance existing attributes

Strength–adequate

Speed and agility–adequate

Durability–extremely poor

Combat instinct–poor

Arcane resistance–extremely poor

Assessing requirements to protect the host

Upgrading durability

Durability +2

Upgrading Arcane Resistance

Arcane resistance +6

Upgrading Combat Instinct

Combat instinct +1

New Score =

Strength = 9

Speed and Agility = 9

Durability = 22

Combat instinct = 12

Arcane resistance = 16

Average = 13.6

Senses

Advanced intuitive hazard detection activated

Sub branches

Advanced physical threat detection–red

Advanced arcane threat detection–mauve

Advanced poison threat detection - blue

Rank = Novice Enforcer

Current Tier = Iron Apprentice

Title = Iron Apprentice of the Novice Enforcer

Applying changes

Josh finished his meal. “We go again,” he said.

“Destante tork!”

“Destante tork!”

“Destante tork!”

“Destante tork!”

Josh called for his breastplate. “It’s time,” he said. He’d added another four to Arcane Resistance, bringing it up to twenty. He’d gone as far as would make a difference, and the punishment wasn’t increasing any other stat. Besides, it was midnight.

They all knew it. Though deep underground, Cassandra had an inbuilt instinct for what was day and night. It was another thing that pointed to her being a harmonic. She was in tune with the earth and all about it.

“I’m coming with you,” she said.

“We’ve talked about this,” Josh replied. “I’m the only one that can take the bites.”

Thadius stood, pacing the room. “Now is not the time to prepare for the future, but I think it is an excellent time to install a chain of command. Josh is at the head of that chain. He must be, especially if you are all part of his family or destined to be part of his family. However, another aspect of family is to take advice. Josh, this family structure is new to you, but if it is to work, you should invite opinions and set a course after due consideration. This is what I need to see for me to sit back and become an adviser to your group. You have the power. You will become mighty. But this family structure transcends all that.”

Josh bit back his reply. He wanted to yell at Thadius and tell him he didn’t know what he was talking about. He’d felt the corruption. He understood the pain his girls would go through if the wolves bit them. But he wasn’t pig-headed enough not to see sound advice. There was no harm in listening and then carrying on as he intended.

“Why?” he asked Cassandra.

“Because I can hurt them from a distance. I can throw the blades, recall them, and throw them again. I don’t need to get near the wolves.”

“I can shoot my arrows,” Arabella said.

“No,” Dec stepped in. “If it was that easy, I’d have taken my bow and arrows and finished this. There might be room for one other by the door, but unless Josh can keep the wolves occupied, then they will be on that person in moments. It is a small chamber.”

“But she’d be able to get one shot off then slip out?”

“Yes.”

“Three knife wounds, Josh. Potentially six,” Cassandra said.

Josh agonized over the choice, but in the end, it was no choice at all. It would be worth it if they could reduce the numbers even by one.

“Okay,” he said. “Just you, Cassandra, but straight out as soon as the wolves move.”

“Over here, then, you two,” said Dec. “I’ve sketched the layout in the dust.”

They joined the half-elf. “Okay, so this is the room. It’s square. There’s only one door in. Its center is a circular dais ten feet in diameter. A stone gutter surrounds it, and steps lead down a walkway around it. Moonlight will shine straight on the dais coming through a large open chimney. I think it was likely a sacrificial altar, and the gutter collected all the blood. Early Mythelorians were a bloodthirsty bunch. The wolves bathe in the moonlight, but I think their strength comes from under—from the dais itself. You’ll have four good strides and be at the pool. One jump, and you’re among them. You need to be quick, or they’ll tear you to pieces. Cassandra, you must throw and go. Don’t even think about having another shot. There won’t be time.”

“Throw and go,” Josh said. “You got that?”

“If only I knew how to heal from a distance.”

Josh cupped her cheek. “In time. Remember, we’re only putting the team together at the moment. We’ll have plenty of time to perfect it.”

“I hope so,” she said.

“I know so,” Josh assured her.

“Those two are ready,” Elowen observed.

“I think you might be right,” Arabella said.

“Just one thing, Josh. What weapon are you going to use?” Thadius asked.

“I thought my dagger.”

“Take my sword. You might find its weight suits you like it suited me. In time, you will grow accustomed to it, and it you.”

Josh took it. “Thank you. I’ll give it straight back to you once we’re done,” he said, but from the look on Thadius’ face, he didn’t want it back.

Chapter Thirty-Two

JOSH HELD THE SWORD HIGH. He stood by the iron door, his fingers running over its cast runes, an etched sun and moon among them. Cassandra stood behind him, three knives in hand, her magic already primed, white lightning crackling.

“Just me and you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m ready,” she said, although her wide eyes told him otherwise.

Josh called for his breastplate.

His durability exceeded twenty. Any further advancement would be wasted, not coming into effect until he evolved again. His Arcane Resistance was maxed for his level, too, but the others lagged behind. He could spend several days toughening up, but the sorcerer would grow stronger with each delay. It was time. He eased the door open and slipped in, Cassandra on his heels.

The room lay before them, the iron door ajar behind. As the elf had promised, the wolves slept on a round dais. Their mangy hair shone silver in the moonlight, lending them more majesty than they deserved. He could smell their necrosis—feel the evil radiating from them. The whole room screamed foul magic, and he pictured robed priests, sacrificial knives in hand, bleeding their victims dry, blood flowing into the gutters.

One of the wolves stirred, stretching its legs, shifting about. Josh, his heart beating, edged around, leaving Cassandra a clear shot. He skirted the wolves, moving to her left. She waited for his signal. Josh came to their agreed point and crouched. He imagined his footsteps. Three to the gutter, one onto its ledge, another on the edge of the dais, then mayhem. He couldn’t plan beyond that. It wasn’t worth it. A thousand paths might arise from his first strike. Cassandra’s knives might open a way. Anything could happen, but one thing was for sure: once she’d struck—once he was alone—he wasn’t leaving until they were all dead.

His vision cycled between red and mauve, the veil not distracting him. He left it there for good reason. If one of the wolves played dead, he’d know it. If some other threat lurked, he’d be aware. It was passive; rather than dismiss it, he was determined to learn to live with it.

He readied. His pose like a sprinter about to burst off his mark. He held Thadius’ sword. It was a comfortable length—was lightweight too, or seemed it to him. The blade was silver, dulled through use with the odd nick out of its edge. It had a simple guard and a leatherbound grip. It wasn’t a hero’s blade, but that of an efficient killer.

Thadius’ mood had been one of silent resignation. Josh could tell he’d wanted to face down the wolves himself, but something had altered in the old man. He’d grown quieter over the last few days. While vocalizing and assuming command without thinking, he’d begun to defer to Josh when he’d realized what he was doing. It was like he understood his days hunting monsters were drawing to a close, but he hadn’t accepted it yet.

On the other hand, it was all new to Josh, and he appreciated any advice he could get. Navigating a new life wasn’t as straightforward as simply slotting in. While he was strong, strength wasn’t everything. Even with combat instinct, there were shortfalls. That kind of craft couldn’t be picked up in a few days, ring or no ring.

Josh inhaled, steadying his heart, relaxing, loosening, and then signaled Cassandra. He counted.

“One, two, three.” Then he burst forward.

“Destante tork!” The daggers tore through the air as Josh burst forward. His strides were perfect, each hitting its mark, sending him to the gutter’s parapet first and then springing him to the dais. Two knives protruded from the front wolf, a third lodged in the neck of another, black blood spewing out. Josh swept his sword down, the wolf’s stench overpowering him as they scattered before him. The blade ripped into one wolf’s hind legs, severing one and slicing through the second.

He whirled around, momentarily distracted by Cassandra, who had the knives back in her hands.

“Destante tork!”

She cried, releasing them again, then slipping through the gap in the door moments before a wolf landed where she’d been. It rolled, spasming, the three knives embedded in its chest, neck, and maw. That moment’s hesitation stole Josh’s momentum, but his perception shone bright red, telling him an attack was coming. He dropped to one knee, a wolf sailing over him, raking him with its paws as it narrowly missed him.

Another leaped, aiming directly for his face. Josh rolled off the dais, landing in the gutter, slipping on black blood, stumbling on a wolf’s carcass. He leaped onto the steps, spinning, his back against the wall.

One of the wolves was dead by the door, a second in the gutter. Two circled, uninjured. A third dragged itself toward him, but it was missing one hind leg, and the other hung off, trailing behind it in a pool of dark blood.

“One missing,” he muttered, scanning the room, unable to see it. “Got to be behind the dais.”

The two healthy wolves came in from different sides, timing their approach perfectly. He weighed up his odds. He might get one, but the other would get him. It had always been his intention to fight from the dais. It was how he’d pictured the battle—how he’d prepared. He waited. The two wolves closed.

He couldn’t keep his eyes on both, so he trusted they worked in unison and watched one while relying on his sphere of perception to alert him if the other suddenly leaped. As the wolf tensed, Josh darted for the dais, aiming for the same footsteps, the same spot on the pool’s parapet.

This time, slimy black blood coated the parapet. Josh’s boot slipped, sending him flailing toward the dais. He caught its extended edge right in the belly, knocking the wind right out of him, sending him careening onto the dais’ top, which was slick with blood, too. His sword clattered to the floor as he clawed the stone, trying desperately to stop. He flew off the end, straight into the missing wolf, the move taking it by surprise as much as him. He rolled, grabbing the wolf’s fur, trying to turn it and slam its snarling head onto the stone.

They smashed into the opposing set of steps. Josh sprang up straight away, seeing his sword and lunging for it. The wolf recovered simultaneously, leaping after Josh, who turned mid-air, thumping onto his back. He kicked out, catching the wolf in the side and sending it barreling off. He grabbed the sword, his perception telling him a greater threat came from behind him. He spun around, stabbing the sword more in hope than anything else. The wolf landed, part-impaling itself as Josh tore a vicious rent in its gut before its momentum carried it past him, crashing into the floor in a burst of foul guts and fetid blood. Josh rolled around just as the second wolf leaped. He brought his sword to bear, his legs slipping on the wet, making his strike weak, barely cutting through the beast’s fur.

He scrambled away, his back against the pool’s parapet, then pushed himself up, trying to get used to the stone’s slippery surface. He’d killed another and badly injured a second. By his calculations, it left at least one uninjured and one, maybe two, still alive. It was hard to tell. These things weren’t as clear as they were in games, in the planning, in the films. Then he heard a growl behind him, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as hot breath brushed them.

He spun around, swinging his sword, driving the blade through the air as the wolf sprang at him. It hit him as his strike sliced into it. He fell backward, the thing on top of him, his sword snagged in its side. Letting go of the blade, he resorted to a method he hadn’t used since that first day in the forest. As the wolf snapped at him, as its open maw plunged toward his neck, he bunched his hand to a fist and punched the beast as hard as he could, the force of his follow-through lifting his shoulder off the sticky stone and carrying him up and over the struggling beast until he was on top of it. The creature raked at him, but Josh was oblivious to the pain as he punched seven tonnes of shit out of the beast, not stopping until its snout was mush.

As he exhaled, as he sat upright, the final wolf jumped from the steps, crashing into him and knocking him clean off the other. Its green eyes zipped past him as he rolled over and over. His calf exploded in pain as it latched on, injecting foul venom into him.

“Oh no, you fucking don’t!” Josh screamed, drawing his leg in and bringing the beast closer. He grabbed its throat, squeezing with all his might, shocked when his thumbs crushed the wolf’s windpipe, then drove deeper, all the way to its spine, snapping it as he twisted his grip and wrenched the remnants of its neck around. “Oh, no you fucking don’t,” he said, as he prized its jaws from his leg.

He inspected the wound, pleased to see the black necrosis had hardly spread. With his increased Arcane Resistance, he’d known his body would likely fight the infection much better. He took a breath, pushing himself to his feet, using the sword as a walking stick. As he reached the bottom step, his heart skipped a beat. His vision still blurred red and mauve. He turned to see the maimed wolf dragging itself to him, its back legs gone. It tried to reach him. Tried to bite him. Josh drove his sword straight through the top of its head.

“Take that, you fucker.”

His vision cleared, his adrenaline subsiding. He pulled a bag out from his pant pocket and beheaded each wolf in turn, putting them in the bag and pulling the drawstring tight. He limped to the door, the black rooted in his leg, but his resistance still holding it back. Pulling the door open, he fell through the gap.

“I think I need healing,” he said, then collapsed.

“Why didn’t you want Thadius to know about the elves?” Josh asked Dec as they sat in the back of Arabella’s wagon. She drove it alone, Thadius sharing Cassandra’s bench and attempting to fathom the depths of her potential.

“Because all that happened a long time ago. He has a picture of them as a peace-loving people, and they are. Their self-imposed exile at the base of the Hangsane has served them well. The monsters are few and far between, and there are no neighbors to wage war on them. Having the witch live by the bridge discouraged any travelers, barring Thadius, so it worked well. The time before was a dark time for them. They were consumed by a need to eradicate humans. They saw them as evil, but it was only one man, Maechllion.”

“Why didn’t they come back when the wolves died?”

“Elves are more attuned to good and evil than humans. They felt a presence, but had no idea what it was. My father stood watch, forsaking his home as he attempted to fathom where the evil came from. A human woman tempted him, and I was their issue. She died while giving birth to me, which was enough for the village to murder him, cut my ears, and toss me into the woods to bleed out and die. But elves are a tough bunch, and I lived in the Evermore for a long time before I eventually returned, my hair dyed with blackberry and charcoal. Most know—few care. I lived underground in that city for a good few years, too. Still go back there a lot. It grows on you.”

“I like the sun too much. Besides, my memories of that place are a little slanted.”

Dec creased his brows. “This thing you do to toughen you up, is it worth it?”

Josh nodded toward Arabella. “If it helps me protect her, then it's worth it.”

“Indeed.” He stood. “We are nearly here. You should pull up and let me scout ahead.”

“Let me come with you,” Josh said.

“No. You’ve done enough. I can do this.”

Josh jumped onto the front bench, cozying up to Arabella.

“How’s your leg?” she asked.

“All healed. Cassandra’s little blast was all I needed.” He grunted. “Still pissed I didn’t get an upgrade. That was an epic, if not scary, battle. I can’t see why it wouldn’t give me at least a point in Arcane Resistance or speed and agility.”

“We’ve gone over this. You weren’t badly injured. Your tactics must have been reasonable. You didn’t lack strength, and your speed and agility saw you through. I’d say not leveling is a good thing. You know you’re one tough son-of-bitch.”

Josh thought about it. “Nope, doesn’t work for me. I deserved an upgrade. I killed six cursed wolves.”

“Four. Cassandra reckons she got two.”

“Humph.” He mulled. “Say, before the fight, what did you mean when you said, ‘They’re ready’?”

She glanced at him. “Exactly what I said. You and Cassandra are ready. There’s only one issue.”

“What?”

“We haven’t got a home. You can’t build a family without a home.”

“But we’re not going to have a home—we’re going to live in a caravan. We’ve got wagons.”

Arabella looked over her shoulder. “That isn’t a home. We will need proper carriages with tarps, beds, and some storage for our clothes and stuff. We have wolf six heads—that’s over four hundred silver. It’s not enough, but it’s a start. We need more money yet. But we can buy a nice tent—a big one, like a marquee. We’ll have to adapt.”

“Or fight more monsters—if we fight more, we earn more. Besides, I doubt there’s a decent wagon maker in Elrima.”

“No. We need to go north for that.” She looked back again. “We might have to compromise. Cassandra will thrive in our family.” She smacked her lips together. “Ours won’t be an orthodox family. We are going to have to do things differently. What do you think? Should we start now? As in all things, it is your choice. I have explained everything.”

“I’m ready,” Josh said.

“Let’s bring her into the family as soon as the opportunity arises.”

Josh pulled her close. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

“You have, but it never hurts to hear it again.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

THE TINY HAMLET of Grendle nestled on the bank of a good-sized pond, sprinkled with cloverweed, hemmed in with reeds and dotted with lily pads. A waterwheel clunked, rotating slowly, its paddles catching on something, but quite what, Josh couldn’t see. The smell of death hung in the air, but not the fetid, foul, black stench of necrosis—which made no sense.

“Horse tracks,” Dec said, crouching and tracing lines over the trail. “Six riders, no more than that.”

The hamlet comprised around twenty dwellings, although it was hard to distinguish between a barn and a home, or a barn and a lean-to, for that matter. A single trail ran through it, edging the pond and along the brook, feeding it. While Josh could smell the sickly taint of blood and turning corpses, he could see no evidence of slaughter.

“Perhaps it was Turnic’s men checking on the hamlet and the mills,” Thadius said.

Dec looked up, shaking his head, his ensuing grimace strained. “You aren’t from around here. This isn’t what it seems—it’s no wolf attack. But nor is it riders passing through. These are the tracks of a very one-sided battle.” He stood, approaching the closest house, easing the door open and glancing in. “Empty.”

“Whatever this is,” Thadius said with a yawn and a stretch of his arms, “it isn’t our business. Ours is in the back of that wagon, bagged up and ready to cash in. We eliminate this sorcerer and get the hell out of here.”

Josh jumped off his bench, striding up to Thadius. “Someone’s using these wolves to kill peasants. We have to find out who. You said yourself someone settles a score wherever there are monsters.”

“They do. But we’re monster hunters—that’s what you want, isn’t it? Smeeks is the law around here. Let him deal with it.”

“But what if it is Smeeks? What then?”

Thadius looked tired, gray bags under his eyes. His back hunched as he regarded Josh. “Then we report our fears to Seymour and leave Eldorwyn.

“You think he’ll do anything?” Josh spat.

“I doubt he’d read to the bottom of the scroll, and if we ever ventured back here, expect an arrow in the back of the head—have your ring save you from that! Lesson one, Josh, don’t get involved in local problems. You won’t solve anything. Like as not, you’ll make it worse.”

“You hunt monsters—that’s what you do, Thadius Extrael. You hunt monsters, and not all monsters have red eyes, glistening fangs, and sharpened claws.”

He stomped away, helping Dec search the hamlet. With every door opened, they moved closer to the waterwheel, its metronomic clank a harbinger of likely doom, a herald promising blood and gore. A workshop stood at the end of the settlement, a broken cart, a few stacks of unmilled wood and a pile of sawdust edging the turn into its yard. It was almost as big as the hamlet, and Josh guessed it was the primary source of employment for Grendle.

The yard was expansive. Stacks of felled cedar trunks and stripped branches lined one side, finished timbers on the other. The waterwheel’s axle protruded from a large warehouse, two huge barn-style doors reaching but not meeting the roof. A rope and pulley system spanned the yard, one end attached to a stout tree at the yard’s end, the other vanishing inside through the gap between the doors and the workshop’s roof.

“Locked from the outside,” Thadius said as Cassandra drove her wagon into the yard, following Arabella with Elowen bringing up the rear. “See that?” he continued, jumping down. “We should move on, Josh. Trust me on this. I’ve been doing it a lot longer than you. We should move on.”

Josh fell into step beside him. “Perhaps, but we should also have a peek inside that workshop.”

Thadius stopped, a grin spreading across his face. “You’re right. We should. But we’ve only one sword between us.”

“Good point,” Josh said, drawing Thadius’ sword from his belt. “I guess you should have this back.”

Thadius rummaged in the back of his cart, withdrawing a fine-looking spear. “Which would you prefer?”

“I’ll stick with the… No, the spear. I fancy the spear. I found the sword a little claustrophobic.”

“You were fighting six wolves. Any weapon would seem that way.”

“Four,” said Cassandra. “I killed two.”

Josh paused his stride. “Four,” he admitted, although six sounded so much better.

Dec listened at the door. He held his hand up, waited, then beckoned them forward. “I don’t think you’ll be needing them.”

He knocked the wedge out of its latch, grabbed the door’s rope and yanked it open. It swung outward, the afternoon light streaming in to reveal dozens of cowering folk shielding their eyes. They backed away, begging for mercy. But they only retreated so far, stopping at a grim line. A burst of foul air washed over them, making them choke.

“Shit,” Josh muttered, nuzzling his nose in the crook of his elbow.

Filtered light beamed down from the workshop’s lofty roof. Four bodies hung from ropes, their hands bound behind their backs, eyes bulging. He recognized them—knew exactly when he’d last seen them. “Those are the goons that tried to kill me on the bridge,” Josh said, but Thadius rushed past him.

“Out! Out! Out, all of you!” He hurried the peasants from the warehouses. “Go back to your homes. If any of these men are yours, come back at dusk and claim the bodies. Otherwise, go about your business!”

They raced into the yard, some with tears streaming down their faces, others numb through shock. There were women, children, and old men, but none of the men were young or middle-aged. A woman tugged at Josh’s sleeve.

“Please, sir, they’ve taken all our menfolk—taken them logging. Got to replace the dead, they said. We’ve got to do the work of the dead.”

Arabella steered her away, glancing back at Josh with a look that told him she expected him to do something about it all. “This is Smeek’s work,” he said as he helped Dec take down the corpses, then released the lever that banged with every rotation of the waterwheel.

“Not Smeeks, no, not him,” Dec said.

“But he’s the bastard.”

Dec grunted. “You’ve got to be a bastard to run these towns and villages. The men and women don’t know any other language. But look, look at the picture right before your eyes. You saw Turnic’s house, yes? Is that the home of an honest arbiter?”

They dragged the bodies to one side, then circled the wagons in the yard. Josh and Dec gathered some firewood. Arabella and Cassandra vanished into the forest, soon returning with a decent-sized wild pig, while Elowen readied the pot and gathered some herbs and garlic. A woman lurked on the yard's edge, hesitating before eventually summoning the courage to cross over to them. She was old but not elderly and had a strength that kept her shoulders straight, even in the face of such dire times.

“One of those men is my son,” she said.

“He’s yours to take,” said Thadius. “We’ve cut them down.”

She hesitated again before turning and running from the yard.

“Probably gone to get a handcart,” said Thadius.

“Their lives aren’t going to be worth living until Turnic gets more labor here,” Dec said. “He’ll demand the same quota of lumber. A few deaths won’t change that. He’s a greedy man, likes going to the capital twice a year and spending like a Lord,” Dec said.

Thadius grunted. “Men like that only get away with it because of men like Hardacre. Chop them down, and it all falls apart.”

“Why don’t we do that, then?”

“Because Turnic’s men probably double for law and order. Without that, this part of Eldorwyn falls into anarchy. If the taxes stop flowing to Seymour, he sends his army down who burn dwellings and beat peasants until they get their money. Seymour installs another arbiter, and it all begins again.”

“So, there’s no hope for them?” Josh asked.

“There’s always hope. It’s just not a realistic expectation to hope for fairness. Not here, not out in the sticks where the king’s law is nearer myth than reality.”

“Smeeks is a fair man,” Dec said. “Hard but firm, but as I’ve said, you need that. He’s got no vices, though. Lives modestly, so the skimming would be minimal.”

“Why doesn’t he sort it all out, then?”

“Because Turnic pays Hardacre, and he who pays the militia owns the region. Smeeks can’t cross a line because he knows Turnic’s men will turn on him if he does. Like as not, Turnic is just looking for an excuse to kill him. Smeeks is held in too much respect for that man’s liking.”

“See, Josh, I told you that you were opening a whole box of trouble if you got involved.”

“I brought you some vegetables,” the woman said, returning. She sat next to Elowen, chopping some carrots and adding them to the pot. “A thank you for releasing us. You could have gone straight past rather than risk Hardacre’s wrath. He’s the one. I’m sure he’s got Turnic under his thumb.” She paused. “Cathy, my name is Cathy.”

“I’m sorry about your son,” Josh said.

“Why? Aren’t you the one he tried to kill? ‘Hair like a priest,’ he said. You have short hair, though the top remains unshaven.”

“He told you about that?”

“He had no choice. They came back beaten and broken. Hardacre made them pay the penalty for their failure. You were supposed to die before you could interfere.”

“Interfere?” Arabella asked, carving the rabbit.

“Things aren’t what they seem,” Cathy said. She glanced around. “If I were you, I’d pack your wagons and head north. If they’ve promised you anything for killing the wolves, then leave it. Go, just go.”

Thadius sighed. “I’m going to regret asking this, but exactly what is going on here?”

Dec laughed. “You really shouldn’t have asked that question.”

“Well, I’ve asked it now.”

“Hardacre doesn’t serve Turnic,” Cathy said. “There’s another, deep in the Evermore. The wolves were a mistake. Something woke the sorcerer before they were ready. Now you’ve killed the beasts. They don’t need you anymore.”

“Can you just spit it out?”

“I think I know,” said Elowen, getting up and running to her cart, returning with a large, gilded book bound with a golden tassel. “I was reading about this a few days before you came. The sorcerer Maechellion wasn’t a loner out for ultimate power. He was part of a cabal called—”

“Shadows,” Cathy said. “He was part of a cabal called shadows who worship Demitris.”

“And just who is this, Demitris?” Josh asked.

“I can answer that,” said Dec. “Because Demitris is a god we’ve been fighting for an age.”

Elowen set her book down. “First hand is better than read knowledge.”

Dec cleared his throat. “Demitris is a malevolent god that looms over the land like a shadow. He is a figure of darkness and despair, the like you have never conceived. His form is shrouded in obsidian robes that meld with the shadows themselves, making it impossible to know where he ends and the void begins. He hides his features behind a cowl, casting his face in perpetual darkness. His eyes, however, shine with an evil gleam, emerald orbs that hold the very essence of his malefic power.”

“Same as the wolves,” Cassandra said.

“And Arabella’s,” Elowen said, grinning and receiving a slap for her trouble.

Dec frowned, but continued. “Demitris is the God of Desolation and Dominance. He feeds on the suffering of mortals, thriving on the despair he instills in their hearts. His realm is a twisted reflection of the world above, a place of eternal night where torment is unending. Thus, the creatures that spew from his realm are twisted, hideous forms, sometimes mimicking creatures from this land, often not.”

“So, the monsters come from the Dimitris’ realm?”

Dec nodded. “It is what I believe, though not all realms are evil. Some give us fairies and sprites and other fine creatures.”

“Well, that clears that up,” said Josh.

“No, it doesn’t. A story isn’t proof,” Elowen said.

“It’s a starting point. All we have to do is travel to his realm, spot a dodgy-looking wolf, and we’ve confirmed it.”

“That all?” said Dec. “Let me tell you about the criteria for joining Dimitris’ cult. His requirements are rooted in submission and sacrifice. Those who seek his favor must promise unwavering loyalty, dedicating themselves to the propagation of darkness and despair. He demands human sacrifice—you’ve seen the chambers where they used to drain living beings of their blood. Those who dare invoke his name, Elowen, must be prepared to embrace his vile teaching, forsaking compassion and empathy in favor of cruelty and dominance.”

“Perhaps not, then,” she said.

“A wise choice. His followers call themselves the Cabal of Shadows. The sorcerer, Maechellion, was one of his most trusted disciples. He wove his magic from the same malevolent threads that define the deity itself.”

“Are you glad you asked, Josh?” Thadius enquired.

“Now you mention it, cutting and running appears a fine option.”

“They won’t allow you to leave,” Cathy said. “That was never an option. If an adventurer even sniffed around the colossus, he’d end up on their altar, drained, then quartered.”

“Well, that closes that door, doesn’t it?” Josh said.

“You wanted it closed, didn’t you?” Thadius said, but Josh ignored him.

“Anything else?” he asked Dec.

“Just this. If you choose to go up against his followers, you’d best be prepared for their total commitment. To leave is not an option. It is better they die and enter his realm than become outcasts to be hunted down and killed. A traitor suffers a terrible death.”

“So, all pretty one way,” Josh said. “Tell me, though. Why did they need all the menfolk? Just to chop a few trees down?”

“The lumbermills are a front,” Dec said. “They are building a huge temple in the valley over that ridge.”

“Preparing for his return,” said Cathy. She stood. “I will leave you to your meal. I must fetch my cart and bury my son. The price for failure is extreme.”

“I hate waiting for food,” Cassandra said, eying up Cathy as she left. “Something about that woman’s not quite right.” She rubbed her hands together, white light blooming, then surrounding the pot. “The stew is ready now.”

Josh stared at it; the pot veiled blue.

“No, no, it’s not. There’s poison in there, strong poison.”

“Are you sure?” Thadius asked. “It smells wonderful.”

“Positive. My senses show me it now. Red is physical damage, mauve is magical, blue for poison.”

“That’s it,” said Thadius, standing and looking after Cathy. “They’ve made it personal now. They’ve ruined my meal.”

“Monsters, the lot of them,” Josh said.

“Well, it’s lucky that’s who we fight.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

CASSANDRA CAST A DULL GLOW FORWARD, her wagon taking the lead, Josh sitting beside her, scrutinizing the road for any divots or furrows. Cloud shrouded the moonlight, muffled the stars, the Evermore Forest thick with darkness.

Cathy had returned with her cart, clearly surprised to see them chatting around the campfire. She hadn’t been able to resist looking into the empty pot or noting their cleaned bowls but had said nothing as she’d collected her son’s corpse and stole away into the night.

They’d hatched a plan, agreeing it would be foolhardy to travel to the temple and see what was happening. Hardacre or any number of his sidekicks might be there waiting for them. Josh had argued for a tactical retreat. He’d explained that a grand battle against people needed more preparation than the simple monster fight. It would be better to finish the quest and come back better prepared, not to mention getting a good night’s sleep in a bed.

“How did I not know this was happening on my doorstep?” Cassandra asked.

“How could you?” he asked. “I’ll bet no one knows away from the three villages. A handful at the ruins, maybe.”

“But still! There was a death cult in the closest village to me, and I was pretending to be the evil witch. They must have been laughing their tits off at me.”

Josh pulled his collar up against the frigid night air, foggy tendrils threading across the road. Cassandra shuffled closer.

“There’s a chill in the air,” she said. “I think all that talk of evil gods has spooked me a little.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure what to make of all that, but where I come from, there’s no magic, so we don’t tend to believe in gods. If there’s magic here, are there gods? If there are gods, then they must be good or evil. That’s the second time that definition has come on my radar lately. The first time, it was two poles, like magnetic poles but some form of moral compass.”

Cassandra laughed. “Oh, Sweetie,” she said. “You talk the best gibberish. Radar? Poles? Moral compass? Such odd things to say. Of course, there are gods. We have some. The elves have some. They have their purpose. The problem only comes when we start serving the gods rather than vice-versa.”

“Do you have a god?”

“Supposedly—as a witch, that is. But I don’t tend to lean on those. Especially not now.”

“Why, not now?”

“Because of you,” she said, turning through Thiswick. “You’ve turned my world upside down, and I don’t just mean the wild theory that I’m a harmonic.”

She fell quiet.

They took the road to Elrima. Dec and Arabella followed, with Thadius and Elowen right behind. Josh knew a set up when he saw one. Arabella had shoved him on the front bench with Cassandra, then, surprise-surprise, she’d suggested that Josh and Cassandra go to the witch’s cabin while she collected their belongings from the tavern. Thadius and Elowen were going to Turnic’s home to collect the reward before clearing away Elowen’s possessions from her tent. They would all meet at the tavern in the morning to strategize over a late breakfast.

While Josh wasn’t happy about Arabella going to the tavern, she did have Dec to protect her, and with Calico in the area, little was likely to happen to her in Elrima. As Josh had already been the focus of one assassination attempt, removing him from the scene seemed prudent, if a little contrived.

The bottom line was, they just wanted to slip out of town quietly, regroup and return to deal with the temple.

“I’ve turned your world upside down?”

She steered the cart away from Elrima and toward the forest, passing through the pasture. “I was alone. I’d still be alone if it weren’t for you. Sure, I might have burst into Elowen’s tent and caught them in the tower, but they’d have thrown me out after briefly indulging me and then gone their own way. But they didn’t. You didn’t. I was suddenly part of something.”

“You deserve to be part of something. There’s too much of you to shut yourself away. I had a theory once—during my other life. There were two types of people. There were those that only existed on the grayscale—that’s black and white to you. Then there were those that were full color. They were the vibrant ones. They made the world a colorful place. You are colorful, Cassandra. You’re one of the most colorful people I have ever met.”

She dropped the reins, her arms around him, her lips on his instantly. She pulled him closer, her passion filling him, her body pressed against him. Then she let him go, picking up the reins and driving the horse into the forest. They sped through it, taking the corners at speed, two wheels in the air as they rounded the switchbacks. Josh grinned, the grit of the last few days pushed to the back of his mind. Only the next couple of hours concerning him. They rushed to her bed.

It felt right. Arabella had told him it would. She’d said he’d know, and he had known for a while, but her kiss had confirmed it. He loved Arabella, and he loved Cassandra. He’d always been told that a man could only love one woman and that the reverse was also true. His society frowned on everything that wasn’t in its structure. One man could only love one woman. But all it had taken for him to know that wasn’t true was to take some alien tech, escape a destroyed ship in a pod, pass through a wormhole and land on a foreign planet.

He loved Arabella. He loved Cassandra. Neither love diminished the other. Both lived side-by-side. His society had got it wrong. Loving more than one partner wasn’t just possible—he glanced at Cassandra—it was downright fantastic, too! He was alive! More alive than he’d ever been.

She urged the horse forward, clearly as eager as him to consummate their love.

Thoughts of him and Cassandra filled his mind. But then she pulled the horse to a sudden stop, throwing him forward. He flew off the bench, tumbling onto the trail, rolling, coming to his feet in one silken movement. “The fuck?” he said, but she was down, right by him, dragging him to the trail’s edge and pointing.

“Look!” she said. “Torchlight. Someone’s searching my home.”

“The fuck?” he repeated, his growing boner reversing its interest in the evening.

“There’s a passing place up ahead. I’ll hobble the horse, and we’ll go and take a look. After six necrotic wolves, whoever it is there is in for a surprise.”

“Let’s do it,” said Josh, checking for his sword and wondering how it hadn’t chopped his legs off during the fall. “I’ve got to get a scabbard for this thing.”

She hobbled the horse, grabbing her knives as they raced up the hill, quickly approaching the Elven Bridge. This time, he pulled her into the undergrowth. “There,” he said. “On the bridge.”

Two men leaned on the stone parapet with bows trained on the road up. They wore black cloaks, their faces were either painted white, or they wore masks. One thing was for sure. They weren’t elves.

“Friends of yours?” Josh asked.

“I hate priests,” she said. “Let me.” She brought out two knives. “Never gave them back. Thinking of calling them my pretties.”

“Nice name. A little psychopathic, but at an acceptable level given the circumstance.”

“Fly, my pretties,” she hissed, and the knives sped toward the priests, silver streaks in the moonlit night.

Josh didn’t hang around. He jumped up, drew his sword, and raced up the road, rounding the last bend as he called for his armor. His jacket vanished, replaced by the steel-blue vest. One priest lay dead, sprawled across the bridge. The other aimed his bow straight at the onrushing Josh.

“Come on then, you fucker, shoot!” Josh cried, not breaking his stride.

The priest shot the arrow. Josh twisted his body, arching his back away from the arrow’s path, spinning around as he used his momentum to dodge the shot. It ricocheted off his chest, thumping into a tree behind him. Josh continued his spin, his sure-footedness astounding him as he brought his sword around in a devastating strike that sliced the priest’s head clean off. He crouched, noting his vision still misted red. The two knives sticking out of the second priest slipped out, floated up, then flew behind him. Cassandra kneeled by him.

“There are more of them,” he whispered, crouching close to the parapet. He closed his eyes, trying to visualize the threat. Throwing his focus forward, he imagined himself scanning the road ahead. He pictured a line like a radar—a bright red line moving clockwise, identifying anything that stood out. He focused harder when the ring didn’t quite get it. Then, harder still when it made a half-hearted attempt. A prick of sharp pain pulsed in his mind, gone before he’d registered it. Then, two pricks in quick succession. After, a stream of them. He gasped, the feeling akin to an instant migraine, then gone as if nothing had happened. A succession of tiny punches came back, answered by more pinpricks. Punches and pinpricks.

Cassandra urged him forward, but he held her back. Something was happening in his brain. The ring was altering something fundamental inside him. Everything subsided, the red mist settling as before. Then, like an orgasm, pulses spewed from him, but no pain came, just the knowledge that they’d left. The tiny pulses returned.

A picture formed in his mind.

A red haze resolved to a picture set against a black background. Stone barely held any shade, while the vegetation had a brighter hue. He could make out the trees lining the Elven Road, the shrubs on either side of the way leading to Cassandra’s cabin, all set against a backdrop of tall cliffs. But there, hiding in the trees, partway back along the Elven Road, three priests lay in wait. One held a spear, while two had swords.

Josh signaled to Cassandra, pointing out the area the priests hid in using the sign language he’d learned watching hours of war films. She screwed her face up.

“Eh?” she said.

“Behind the tree, ten yards up the Elven Road. Three—” he held three fingers up “—three priests—two swords, one spear.”

“What do we do?”

“We walk toward your house like we know nothing. My perception will let me know as soon as they follow. Do your thing, then I’ll engage. If you can get one down, I’ll have a good chance with the other two.”

“Got it,” she said.

“Casual as you like. Imagine that the coast’s clear.”

“Got it.”

She stood, stretched her arms, and yawned. “Wow, I’m tired. Killing enemies does that to me. I can’t wait to get home now the coast is clear,” she said stiffly and totally unbelievably.

“Never taken acting lessons, then?” Josh said.

“Too busy being an evil witch. Besides, the troubadours travel the country in these big caravans—” She stopped.

He stopped.

“Where might one purchase a troubadour caravan?” he asked.

“That’s a damn fine question,” she said as they turned along the trail to her home. “I can’t wait to get out of this place.” She pulled her knives out.

“Now,” he said, spinning around.

Three priests raced toward them, flying out of the gloom, black cloaks flowing in the night, melding with shadows like their god—like Demitris. Their white masks displayed no emotion. It made them all the more sinister as they flew toward them, silent as night.

“Fly my pretties!” Cassandra cackled, her ensuing laughter confirming Josh’s suspicions that she was teetering on the edge of madness.

“That’s creepy,” he said, racing forward, sword raised.

The spearman stopped—two knives in his chest. The swordsmen skidded to a halt.

“Underwood, embrace the darkness within you. Our master can feel it. It ripples the veils, shuffling the void. Join him. Join us.”

“What about me?” Cassandra asked, commanding the knives back to her.

Without another word, the closest priest lunged, his blade slicing through the air with deadly intent. Josh’s instinct kicked in, his body flowing as he raised his sword to block the blow. The clash of steel against steel echoed in the valley.

The second swordsman kept himself tight, ensuring Josh was between him and Cassandra, who had her daggers back in hand. He struck, his lunge tight, almost tearing through his companion’s cloak. It took Josh by surprise, the lunge catching his arm, slicing muscle and grinding against bone.

Josh cried out as pain radiated up his arm.

“Duck!” Cassandra shouted. “Fly my pretties!”

Josh ducked, sweeping his sword on instinct, its edge biting bone. He roared, powering his blade on, ripping its edge into the man’s leg, a brief break, then hitting flesh again. He rolled to his feet, amazed by his agility again as he raised his sword for his final strike—his coup de gras. But the priest fell back, his knees giving way, and he thudded to the floor.

“Well, that went well,” Cassandra said. “You know, I think we’re getting better. We’re a team, Josh, a team.”

He knelt by one of the corpses and took off the mask. A man stared blankly back. He was old, which explained how they’d won so easily. He stripped the other mask off. “Both old?” he said. “What about the ones on the bridge?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yeah, I think it does. Hardacre is using old fogeys to do his work, so he must be spread thin. It means the others are somewhere else, doing something else.”

She raced to the bridge. “Both old as the hills.”

“Oh shit. I got a bad feeling about this.”

“You think the others are in danger?”

“No. I think these weren’t expecting any trouble. There’s only one question. Who were they lying in wait for us or Dec?”

“He knew your name.”

“Yeah, I’ll wager I’m a minor celebrity among their ranks. I’ve killed a few.”

“Let's go and see if my place is clear.”

“I’ll bet they’re using it as a base. I’ll bet there’s a couple more resting there. They were looking out for Dec. They were making sure he didn’t alert the elves.”

“To what?”

“I think they’re nearly ready—that they’re about to summon their god.”

“Shit,” she said, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go.”

“Hold on.” He dismissed his armor and replaced it with Thadius’ cloak. Picking up one of the masks, he put it on. “How do I look?”

“Sinister,” she said.

“Okay, hands behind your back. You’re my prisoner now.” He stepped back, picking up the priest’s spear and holding it to her shoulder blades. “Let’s go priest hunting.”

“You know, this is kind of sexy,” she said.

“It kind of is.”

They marched forward.

“Can I ask you a question? You know, as your captive and all that. Which is also totally hot, by the way.”

“It is, and you can,” Josh replied.

“I know the land might be plunged into eternal darkness soon, and an evil god might rise at any time, and I understand that there are thugs abroad, all looking to kill you. An army of insane zealots is likely descending from the Evermore, and an evil sorcerer is waking after centuries asleep.”

“Yes.”

“Taking all that into account, are we still going to fuck tonight?”

Chapter Thirty-Five

JOSH LEANED against the wall of Cassandra’s little dwelling, admiring her. She had a fantastic body. She was taller than Arabella, skinnier too, and her poise was more predatory than either Arabella’s or Elowen’s. That she was so different was a blessing. There was no confusion about his love. He wasn’t transferring his wonderful experience with Arabella and laying it on Cassandra like a veneer. This was a fresh love, grown from its own seed and perfectly viable all on its own. But the love would thrive next to his love for Arabella. He was sure of that.

She rolled the priest’s body off the bluff, twigs snapping, undergrowth flattened, one dull thump, then two, and a splash. Then she turned to him, framed by the moonlight, her hair sparkling with starlight.

“I’ve never been with a man.”

Josh inhaled, his breath stuttering at the magnitude of her confession. The way she dressed, acted, everything, had pointed to an entirely different history, one he wasn’t even going to ask about. But her admission pleased him. It made her choice so precious. That she would join his family and know no other man also placed an enormous burden upon him. But, as he thought about it, it was a burden he should carry for each of his wives. It was their choice to be with him. It was his duty to make that choice a dream come true.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she asked.

“You’ve just rolled a dead priest off a rock bluff for me and admitted you’re a virgin with your next breath. What more could a man ask for?”

The fight had gone to plan. Having a witch that could make knives fly with a few words was a distinct advantage. She hadn’t even moved her hands from behind her back. She’d said her words, and the knives had flown out from behind her and embedded themselves in the priest’s eyes.

While it was over in a flash, Josh had taken her to task on her choice of command. Fly my pretties might be amusing, but she needed a shorter catchphrase. There was, he’d explained, a strong likelihood that one day she’d meet another caster, and the fastest on the draw would win. They’d also pondered why the knives had flown straight to the priest’s eyes. They’d settled on something simple. She’d looked the priest in the eyes as she’d said the words.

He'd then theorized that she should be able to develop the spell to direct metal objects by steering them with her gaze. They’d agreed to practice, but another night. They had a full agenda that night, which the priests had likely delayed. She’d packed most of her belongings in her cart before they’d left for the Evermore Forest, and it turned out that priests were pretty filthy pigs. The large pool of blood on the floor was the final straw. Their night of unfettered love in Cassandra’s cabin would not happen. There had to be a change of venue.

She closed the distance between them. “Do you mind?”

“That you haven’t been with a man?”

“Yes.” She bit her lip, stopping. “Especially after I acted like I had.”

“Not at all. You were denying who you really were. I like that person more.”

“But you’ll have to teach me.”

Josh wanted to go to her, to hold her and tell her it would be alright. But she wanted him to teach her, and his first lesson would be simple. It was as much up to her to come to him for sex as it was for him to go to her, and at that moment, she was doing the walking.

“I can do that. Arabella can help, too. If you want to wait and have her join us the first time, then that’s okay.”

“No,” she said. “I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to wait a moment longer.” She dropped her cloak, laying it out on the ground, and then pulled her shirt off. Her breasts were pert like he’d imagined them, perhaps a little smaller than Arabella’s, but not by much, and her ribs were visible—shadows in the moonlight.

“You have beautiful nipples,” he said. “I can’t wait to enjoy them.” He cocked his head. “Hell, they are absolutely perfect on your wonderful titties.”

She cupped one of her breasts, pushing it up, reaching with her mouth and licking herself. “This gives me pleasure,” she said.

“What else? You want me to teach you, then first, you’ve got to teach me. Tell me—” he changed his mind “—No, show me what you like.”

She unlaced her boots, stepping out of them. Then she pulled down her short pants and stood naked before him. “What?” she asked. “You want to watch me wank?”

“I want to know if you know how to do it,” he said cooly, enjoying being in total command.

“If I know how to wank? I’ve never been with a man. That doesn’t mean I haven’t dreamed about it. It doesn’t mean I haven’t imagined you on top of me, under me, behind me. Have you dreamed about me, Josh?”

For a moment, he wondered if he’d lost control. She’d gained some confidence, but it had stemmed from her intimate knowledge of herself. Had he thought about her? Yes. He’d imagined her inside and out. He’d pictured her pussy, wet and waiting for him. He’d imagined her cries of passion as she climaxed under him. Yes, he’d thought about her. He’d thought about her a lot.

“Yes.”

She smiled, a coy smile. A curtain of her jet-black hair fell across her eyes. “Good.”

A light breeze flowed over him, reminding him he still had Thadius’ cloak on. He pulled it over his shoulders, discarding it to one side and stood bare chested, enjoying the fresh breeze, letting her see the bulge in his pants—giving her that much encouragement.

She sat, drawing her knees up and resting her chin. “No,” she said. “Not here,” and she stood, grabbed the cloak, and walked to the bluff's edge. Josh stood, transfixed, as he stared at her ass. It was skinny—good skinny—milky white flecked silver. Moonlight highlighted the nubs of her spine and the outline of her shoulder blades. She spun around, perilously close to the edge. There was the rock’s surface, then her, then the drop. One gust and she’d be gone. One slip, and he’d never know what her body would truly feel like.

His heart stopped when she suddenly lay out the cloak over the rock and dropped to it, sitting, her legs spread. “You like?”

He removed his boots before he finally stepped onto the bluff. He continued walking toward her until he was halfway there before dropping to his knees and sitting back on his ankles. It was an old yoga pose, back from the days before he had a ring to keep him supple. His cock strained at his pants, aching, pain radiating from his balls. He held her gaze, knowing she challenged him to look down—to look at her pussy. He cocked his head. She matched the action, putting her finger in her mouth, then letting it slide from view.

But his gaze was unwavering. It told her he was in charge. She shuffled forward, laying back, her neck on the ledge, head hanging over. Josh finally looked. She’d parted her lips, her pink glistening.

“Now,” he said.

Her fingers began. At first, they slowly teased, moving up and down, reaching inside, sliding through her hair, while her other hand circled her belly button. But she was trying to tease him, not satisfy her own lust. She was aroused, beyond aroused. The starlight reflected her moistness, giving her game away. He could wait. He had to. Otherwise, he wouldn’t remain in charge. It might be her first time, but she’d planned this scenario. She wanted him to break—to take her to satisfy his growing lust. She wanted to take victory at her first attempt—victory rather than meek compliance.

That was fine by him. He only wanted strong women in his family. But it didn’t mean he would let her win. He stood, taking his pants off, baring his body to the cold breeze. His cock stood proud, mighty, veins crisscrossing his shaft like raging rivers. It had grown with his vitality—his health. There was no doubting that. His body had returned to its most athletic, all of it, and his cock had reaped the benefits. He approached her, spreading her legs wider as he stood over her, his cock telling her who was in charge, without any words needed from him.

“Watch me wank?” she asked.

He nodded, retreated, kneeled, and renewed his pose, this time sitting at her ankles, her pussy within reach, her breasts his horizon, her chin jutting between them. She stopped messing around, her fingers diving straight for her hood. They circled slowly and steadily for mere moments before they sped up, soon blurring. He nearly broke—the urge to penetrate her was overwhelming. But he’d agreed to watch, so watch he would.

She can tempt me, but I won’t lose control until I release it.

He moved his hands behind his back, not even touching his twitching cock. Altering his breathing, he calmed, hunting some elevated state where her fingers wouldn’t galvanize his balls into action—where the smell of her arousal wouldn’t feed his light-headedness. The slosh and slap of her masturbation was torment enough. Her breathing joined it, breasts heaving like the land itself was morphing and changing. Her nipples grew to hard points as her chin reddened, muscles straining, and finally, a strangled moan escaped her lips as her fingers reached a speed he didn’t think would be possible.

Then her body began to change. Sweat brushed it, starting between her breasts, then beading around her belly button and along the line of her pubic hair. Small crackles of white light radiated over her, dancing like miniature lightning bolts. An aura bloomed over her, but it focused on her breasts, her inner thighs, and her pussy. It grew in intensity, blinding where her fingers worked their magic. Her moans grew louder, cut off each time, coming like a strangled scream. Her body tensed, thighs bucking, offering herself to him, thrusting it forward as she inched closer to him. Her momentum was suddenly unstoppable. It had grown into something real before his very eyes. She was a passenger, to her fingers, to her building orgasm. She edged closer, her thighs chaffing his knees. Then, with one loud cry unleashed across the valley, she reached her crescendo and screamed, “Now, now! Take me! Fuck me now!”

He moved his hands, holding her knees apart. He leaned forward, kneeling over her. “Keep wanking,” he commanded. “Keep it going, baby.”

She lifted her head, face flushed, tears streaking the corners of her eyes. She nodded, biting her lip, carrying on despite the pain of too much pleasure. He held his shaft, maneuvering it under her fingers, her nails catching him—a moment’s pain soon forgotten. He pressed against her, encountering little resistance, then sinking in a little, feeling pressure quickly, realizing her hymen was still intact.

“This might hurt a bit, baby,” he said.

“Do it, just fucking do it!”

He pressed; his cock so rigid it had no give. He pushed again, forcing himself on. She grunted and tensed, slowly relaxing. He withdrew, then pushed in halfway. No resistance.

“Fuck, that’s huge,” she gasped.

He pushed further, confident and ready. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, yes, baby, fill me up. I want it all.”

He slid all the way in. She gasped, holding her breath, her cheeks puffed and eyes wide. He pushed against her pubic bone, just as he’d imagined, just as he’d hoped, and lowered himself onto her, wanting to fondle her breasts but needing to comfort her and help her through the pain. He kissed her, their lips locked immediately, tongues searching, as her arms came around him, holding him tight.

The land dropped away, the river so distant below, its path flecked with light. His head swam momentarily, but he closed his eyes and opened them, growing accustomed to the view. She clung to him, feeling him holding her and filling her as she grew accustomed to his cock. He moved inside her, his cock reaching every crevice, claiming each part of her. His balls cramped, the anticipation overwhelming him—the price of his earlier control quickly becoming apparent.

“Cum for me, baby,” she whispered in his ear.

“I will,” he said and locked his lips on hers, picking up his tempo, sliding in and out, carefully keeping his strokes gentle to ease her pain. “You like that?”

“You fill me up. You fill me right up.”

He propped himself up, increasing his rhythm, watching her body jerk under him. Then he closed his eyes, needing to experience his release, to complete it, to complete her. He let himself go, spilling into her as he smiled down, knowing that it was a great start but only a beginning. There would be more—so much more and with each time, their bond would grow stronger. Their love would become deeper.

He bent, kissing her tenderly, just their lips this time. No need for more, no need for words. And he rolled from her, looking up at the stars and moon.

“Well,” he said. “A couple of hundred years ago, if you’d said I’d screw a witch one day, I’d have thought you a liar, but I’d have hunched my shoulders and thought, maybe. But if you’d said I’d meet a witch and take her virginity, I’d have told you to fuck right off.”

She laughed. “Then that’s probably my role in our family.”

“What’s that?”

“Making the improbable come true.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

JOSH TORE into Carl’s barn. “Where are they? Where the fuck are they?”

“Who?” Carl asked, groggy, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“You know full fucking well who. Where’s Arabella, Thadius and Elowen? They were supposed to meet us by the tavern a couple of hours after dawn. Where the fuck are they?”

“I don’t know!”

Josh launched at the big man, instantly covering the ground between them, but Carl’s eyes weren’t on him. They focused on the two knives moving toward him at terrifyingly slow speed. Josh smashed into him, clattering him against a post. “Better talk, man, or those knives will slide into you slowly, and she’s got a thing for eyes.”

“I don’t know!” he cried. “I heard a commotion—a load of riders. You don’t go out when they’re about, not if you know what’s good for you.”

“Who? Who were about?”

Josh stepped back, the knives doing the job of scaring Carl shitless. “The cultists from over the hill. They were around. They come down every now and then. We leave them alone, and they leave us alone. I don’t know any more than that!”

Josh snapped his fingers, and Cassandra pulled the knives back a yard.

He paced up and down. “I need spears and knives, plenty of knives. How many have you got?”

“A few, but—” He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze drawn to the doors.

“And what do you want a cartload of weapons for, Underwood?” a familiar voice asked.

Josh squared up to Carl one last time, shoved him, then turned. “Smeeks,” he sneered. “What rock crawled away from you?”

Smeeks smacked his lips together. “Every time I hear a commotion lately, you're at the heart of it, Underwood.” He walked in. “Cassandra, could you recall those knives—if that's what you witches do to stop them floating around the place? I confess, magic isn't my strong suit, which appears to be an oversight with all that’s going on in this place of late.”

She beckoned the knives back, grabbing them. “Best learn quick, Smeeks. There will be a lot of it flying around later if we’re right.”

“Right about what?”

“There’s—”

“Thadius, Arabella, and Elowen are missing,” Josh interrupted. “What do you know about that, Smeeks?”

He sniffed and rolled his eyes as he walked farther in. “I told you—I told Thadius—do your thing and move on. But no, you had to go sniffing around, upsetting the delicate balance established here.”

“What delicate balance?” Josh spat.

“Between the religious nuts over the hill and the rest of us normal folk.”

“Those religious nuts plan to take over this place.”

“Nonsense,” Smeeks scoffed. “They can barely tie their shoelaces. Have you seen them? All as old as the hills and hardly able to walk and talk at the same time.”

“Think again, Smeeks. They have taken all the menfolk from Grendle, and their sorcerer was responsible for the wolves that wiped out everyone in Thiswick.”

“Now you're being ridiculous.”

“Now I'm being serious.” Josh squared up to him. “Hardacre's running this show. Turnic's just a puppet. You? It seems you are a clueless bastard. I had you down for better.” He pushed Smeeks back. “Stand in my way, and you're going down.”

Smeeks turned away, composed, then looked back with the cold steel eyes of a killer. “Where are you going?”

“To see Turnic. If he knows anything about Arabella's kidnap, you'll be looking for a new arbiter.” Josh scooped up the spears. “Get the knives, Cassandra. We've got friends to rescue.”

“Wait!” Smeeks said. “Turnic's a greedy bastard, but he's no religious nut.”

“You don't know him. Look at the house. Look at Hardacre. Does he let you near the Evermore, or has he told you not to worry about it? Something is going on up there, and you! You haven't got a clue.”

Smeeks dithered, seeming in two minds. “They’ve taken Extrael—you’re sure of this?”

“We had a run-in with their followers yesterday. One tried to poison us. We escaped the place, but all three villages were loyal to the cultists,” he said.

“The sorcerer released necrotic wolves,” Cassandra said. “Killed their own followers. If they’ll stand by and watch that happen, do you think they care about this place?”

“We haven’t got time for this!” Josh said and tore through the door, throwing all the spears into the back of the cart.

Cassandra jumped on the bench. “Where to?”

“Turnic’s.”

“Wait!” Carl shouted. “I’ll come with you.” He jumped in the back. “This is my village, too.”

“You’re set on going to Turnic’s place?” Smeeks said.

“Damn right.”

“Then let’s settle this there. I’ll lead the way.” He jumped on his horse, galloping off.

Cassandra urged her horse on. “Is he on our side now?”

“Smeeks is only ever one side—his,” Carl said.

“I’m not sure about that,” Josh said, but didn’t expand. “Where did you put those knives?”

Cassandra winked at him, opening her cloak. “Stacked and ready.”

“I know you’re stacked.” He grinned at her.

“Looking forward to the second lesson.” She pouted.

He was, too. The first had gone on deep into the night and had been everything he’d imagined and more. They’d left the bluff after their first session and spent the rest of the night in the wagon. It was cramped but had plenty of handholds, so it served its purpose well. Cassandra had proved a fast learner and could use magic to do things to her body that sent him to new heights of ecstasy. “I’m surprised we didn’t bust an axle.”

The cart flew down the road and around a corner, coming to a halt outside Turnic’s place. Smeeks vanished through an open front door. Josh double-checked at the door. “What the fuck’s that?” he asked.

“That is bad news,” Cassandra said. A sigil dripped blood-red paint, glowing faintly with power. “They’re gaining confidence. I don’t think our cult is hiding over the hills anymore.”

“In here,” Smeeks cried, retreating from Turnic’s study, a handkerchief over his nose. He pointed in.

Josh raced down the hallway, skidding to a halt in Turnic’s office. His eyes struggled to adapt to the gloom at first. Turnic had his shutters drawn, filtered light passing through their angled slats. A familiar smell hung in the air. He’d last experienced its bitter-sweet tang at the warehouse in Grendle, but they hadn’t just hung Turnic—they hadn’t even bothered opening his gut.

They had pinned the arbiter to the window frame, his arms and legs forming a cross. He was naked, red daubed on his fat chest. And he was upside down, his head bruised and black, filled with blood, eyes looking like they were about to burst.

“I guess Hardacre decided it was time for a promotion,” Josh said. “So, Smeeks, still think this isn’t your problem?”

Smeeks barely looked. “I’ll get my men. What’s the plan?”

“How many have you got?”

“I can rustle up ten, maybe fifteen. This isn’t the city. We don’t have a standing army.”

Josh looked from Turnic to Smeeks and back. “Ten won’t make much difference.”

“What are you thinking?”

“Do you know where they’re building the temple?”

“Seems you know more than me. I know they were building a village for themselves, but exactly where I couldn’t tell you. I left it alone—Hardacre collected the taxes. One less headache for me.” He grunted, then kicked Turnic’s desk.

“You in, Carl?” Josh asked.

The big man stared from the doorway. “If they come to the village, I’m dead anyway.” He walked to the mantelpiece, lifting a sword that hung on a pair of ornate iron brackets. “Had my eye on this for a while,” he said. “Anyone object to me stealing it?”

“Dead man’s sword,” Smeeks said. “Bad omen.”

“It can’t get any worse,” Carl pointed out.

“Four of us,” Josh said. “An accomplished weapon master, a sorceress, and you, Smeeks—I suspect you are an above-average fighter. Plus, we have me. Trust me, Smeeks, when I say I can handle multiple opponents.”

“I don’t have to trust you. I’ve seen you, and the rumor going around last night is that you killed all six of the beasts that ripped apart the entire population of Thiswick.”

“Four, he killed four,” Cassandra pointed out.

“Yeah, it was four—she got the other two. Gets a bit touchy about that.”

“So, what’s the plan, Josh?”

“The plan is this. Have your militia keep an eye on the village. Us four will find and take on the cultists. We’ll be faster, quieter, and can do a decent bit of damage before they know we’re even there.”

Smeeks grinned. “You might not believe this, Underwood, but I like you. I did from the first moment I saw you on the bridge. There’s a certain respect that comes with being able to handle yourself.”

“He can more than handle himself,” Carl said. “He could put you and me on the floor without breaking stride. I’m happy with just us. Better a few good fighters than an army of fools.”

Smeeks pursed his lips. “Just us then.”

“Not quite,” said Dec, barging in. “They’ve got them, and I know where. An associate of mine has just sent me a bird. You’re right. They’re holding them at the temple. Looks like they’re getting ready to sacrifice them.”

“How long have we got?”

“They start the ceremony at dusk, but the bloodletting won’t happen until the moonlight hits the altar. Oh, and it’s not who you think it is.”

“What?” Josh asked.

“Hardacre isn’t in charge—he’s just a lackey.”

“Who’s in charge, then?”

When Dec told him, he didn’t quite believe his ears.

“That changes a few things,” Josh said. “Carl, I need you to do me a favor, and you aren’t going to like it.”

“What?”

“I need you to watch the colossus. I have to know if anyone climbs it and goes in. There’s an entrance under its shoulder. I have got a feeling someone might try and wake Maechellion. I’m worried that this is a distraction they know we’ve no option but to follow.”

“You think killing Arabella, Thadius, and Elowen is just a distraction?”

“Something smells wrong. Calico didn’t plant his marquee right by the ruins just to race into the Evermore.”

Dec led them from the road and up a logger’s trail. Clouds gathered overhead, jostling each other for superiority, white crowded by gray and gray by black. Spots of rain peppered them, ice cold—too cold for the time of year, driven by a westerly wind that bent the cedars to its whim. Josh lifted his collar, tucking his chin in. There was something unholy about it all. Evil bubbled under the surface. A feeling so dread that it cut right through him.

Images of Arabella haunted him—of her bound by chains, wrists shackled above her head, her ankles fastened to links driven into the rock. She was naked, flesh bared for the world to see as an evil god looked down at her, baying for her blood. Necrotic wolves circled her as priests chanted, spreading incense about, the tang heavy, revolting.

Then, from the shadows, came a robed and masked priest, a servant of Demitris. He held a long, curved dagger, its blade etched to help blood flow. A drum beat somewhere as the priest’s chant reached fever pitch. The priest brought his mask down, revealing his laughing face, eyes maddened with rage. It was him—had to be him. Who else?

Josh blamed himself. While his love struggled, while her father and friend had been taken, he’d been screwing Cassandra, oblivious to all. He’d been having the time of his life while Arabella lay trussed in the back of a cultist wagon. Was it an omen? Was it some god telling him that this family was wrong? That multiple unions shouldn’t happen.

He punched a cedar as he passed it, cracking the trunk and sending shivers up it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he growled.

“There’s no way you could have known. There’s no way we could have known,” Cassandra said.

“Yes, yes, there is. We could have waited—all stuck together. That would have been the wise move. That would have been the sensible mood. But oh no, I decided to slope off into the country and—”

She grabbed his arm. “No! No! Don’t. Arabella wouldn’t want you to regret it. She was encouraging it. You’re a monster hunter, Josh. Stolen moments are all you get.”

“We, Cassandra, we are monster hunters.” He stomped forward up the track, slimy and wet. “We should have stuck together.”

“Yes,” she said. “We should have, but we wanted a few minutes' solace. Arabella was with Dec. They should have gotten in and out of the hotel quickly. She should have been in no danger.”

“Then what happened?” He stared forward.

Dec led the way, hunched over, his body shrouded in a waxen cloak. Josh picked up his pace, coming beside him. “What happened last night?”

Dec glanced at him, the rain dripping from his nose, misty rain, the type that soaked. “Frogatt happened,” he said.

“Frogatt?”

“Yeah, the old—”

“I know who Frogatt is. What happened with Frogatt?”

“I was out back in the kitchen getting us some food. She’d finished packing and was ready to go to the ruins and meet with Thadius and Elowen. She was going to spend the night with them rather than risk staying in the tavern.”

“Why? What was wrong with the tavern?”

“Something—that’s all I can say. It felt off—had some presence about it. It was like some great evil was waiting to happen. Having seen Turnic, I’ll wager it was coming from his house—that the cultists had gathered there and were performing some ritual or the other.”

Josh growled, “Fuck! It started before dawn?”

Dec nodded as he grimaced. “I turned my back for a few moments. I said I’d grab enough food for the three of them and then escort her to the ruins. That was it! That was all the time they needed.” He marched on.

Josh lingered, trying to collect his thoughts. He shook his head, catching up to Dec. “Froggat? What part did he play?”

“Sara was on duty. She saw it. Apparently, Froggat approached Arabella. He said you were in trouble—that they’d had you cornered, and Cassandra was dead. He said you’d killed them but were badly injured—needed a healer—and had collapsed in the courtyard. Enough time had passed that she must have believed it was possible.”

Josh slapped his head, holding his fist up, wanting, needing, something to punch. “She’d have raced out. The fuckers. They knew exactly what to say. When I see that Froggat, I’m going to tear him in half.”

“Yeah, well, I raced after, but there was no sign of them. They must have jumped her the instant she left the tavern.”

“They’re going to pay for this.”

“That’s what worries me.”

“What?”

“I raced to the ruins, but Thadius and Elowen had already gone. I knew we'd be too late by the time I’d got to Cassandra’s and fetched you. My only hope was that they had some reason to keep them alive. So, I have a few colleagues dotted about—unofficially keeping our eyes out. I sent one home to tell the elves to be ready for trouble. I sent another to alert Falconia, asking him to keep me updated. By then, it was a couple of hours before dawn. There was nothing I could do but wait for you and Cassandra to show up. I was going to meet you outside the village, but—”

“But what?”

“I fell asleep. I was exhausted. I fell asleep. I’m sorry, Josh.”

Josh’s rage calmed. “You did all you could. It’s me that’s to blame. I’m supposed to be in charge—I was supposed to plan all this shit out. I just didn’t see us being that important to them. Why? Why do they want us?”

“Have you ever thought it’s not you they want?” Smeeks said.

“What?”

“You, Underwood. You aren’t important.” Smeeks caught them up. “I had you checked out. You aren’t an Underwood—well, you might be, but not an important Underwood—not from the family. Who, by the way, are mighty pissed with you for claiming to be one of them.”

“Not something I ever said—something you assumed,” Josh said.

“Not something you ever denied, either. Still, not something we need to worry about unless we get out of this alive. Back to my point. Who’s important here?”

“Thadius?”

“Extrael, yes, Thadius Extrael. He is the only one of note here. Why snatch Arabella?”

The fog of confusion vanished. “So Thadius would come without a fight.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

THE DAY PASSED QUICKLY as they traveled through the rough terrain. They came to a ridge, dropped into a gulley and took shelter. “We wait here for Falconia,” Dec said, crouching. “The wind’s in the right direction. I can make a fire, or we can freeze.” He shrugged. “I have food—might be a busy night.”

Smeeks tilted his head. “I fight better on a full stomach.”

“I’m famished,” Cassandra said. “I’ll sort the fire—you cook. I’m hopeless at that.” She kicked some mulch together, muttered a few words and flicked her fingers at it. A beam of red light shot down, forming a dome and making Josh squeeze his eyes shut. When he opened them again, a roaring, smokeless fire had replaced the damp mulch. “One of the many benefits of screwing a witch,” she told him.

“I thought you were betrothed to Arabella,” Smeeks said.

“What can I say?” Josh replied. “I’m one lucky bastard.” He crouched, warming his hands. “Get back to Thadius. Why would they want Thadius?”

“It depends. I don’t know too much outside of my little area. But I know that as soon as you enter a city, it’s a nest of vipers. Extrael has enemies. Why do you think none of the great monster-hunting contracts go his way? If someone wanted him dead, what better way than this? You have a monster in the colossus, an evil sect, a sorcerer and rabid wolves. Eliminate the competition and save the day. I’m not a learned man, Underwood, but even I can see the sense in that.”

“But why would Calico get tied up with an evil sect? He’s the king’s monster hunter? Wouldn’t that make him one of the most important men in the land?” Josh asked.

“It makes him the second most important man in the land,” Smeeks said. “But there’s the problem. The second always wants to be the first.”

“We saw it coming,” said Dec. “Cultist activity has been rising in the area for quite some time. Religious fervor has reached fever pitch at the ruins. It’s the old—they were brought up on tales of a mighty empire that spread throughout Mythelore. The dark magic, the sacrifices, the ritualistic slaughter—that’s all forgotten about. They see government, taxes, and poverty and want the old times back. Who better to give it to them than the king’s own monster hunter?”

“Calico wants to overthrow the king?” Josh said.

“More. He wants to lead the newly risen kingdom on a holy quest and eliminate the elves once and for all. He wants to march all the way to the Hangsane Mountains and extend man’s borders.”

“Sounds like he wants to take over everything,” Josh grumbled.

“And what better way to start than removing Thadius Extrael?” Dec said. “From what I’ve heard, he is the only one the king might have listened to until Calico poisoned his mind.”

“We have to stop him.” Cassandra stood.

Josh could see the power brimming in her as her anger rose. Lightning sparks danced over her skin, her eyes afire. “If you know how to find your power, Cassandra, now is a good time.”

She looked at him, sorrow replacing the anger. “I don’t know if I can. I feel it in me, but don’t know how to reach it.”

He reached up, pulling her down. “You do what you can. This dream doesn’t end here. This is where it starts—you got that? If you can fuck them up—that’s what you do. If you can stab a few, do that. But if, and I say if, you can pull a mountain down on the bastards, then do it and bury the fuckers for eternity. You got that? There’s no pressure. I’ve got this—we’ve got this.”

“Falcon’s here,” Dec said.

Josh rose. “Then let’s go rescue them. Calico’s mine—you all got that? He’s mine. He’s fucked with my family, and he’s going to answer for it.”

Dec greeted Falcon as the elf slipped from the undergrowth. His white hair poked from under a dark cap, his skin painted with green and brown camouflage. He fell to a crouch. “This all of you?”

“It is,” Dec replied. “This is Josh, Smeeks—”

“I know you, Smeeks. I've watched you enough.” Falcon's voice was throaty, not how Josh imagined it would be. The films always depicted elves with crystalline voices, singing their way through their happy lives while tending their trees and munching on moss.

“Comforting,” Smeeks said. “Explains that feeling I get that someone is always watching me.”

Falcon scoffed. “Always? Please! You're not that important. Cassandra? I didn't expect to see you here.” He scrunched his face up. “Has she unlocked her potential?”

“She's getting there,” Dec said.

“You've been watching me?” Cassandra recoiled.

“Always. We waited to see if you understood. It is no coincidence you crossed the bridge.”

“What's no coincidence?”

“It will wait,” Dec said, cutting in. “Suffice it to say, you benefited by being close to us. How does the land lie, Falcon?”

“Busy. The evil ones prepare. Elf friend, the Burrower and the Daughter are caged. Their sacrifice draws near.” He looked at the moon. “You mean to do this with only us?”

“We do,” Josh said.

“Then we must approach from the wooden man.”

“The wooden man?” Josh didn't like the sound of that.

“The temple they've built is no simple building. It is a replica of the ruins and has its own colossus.” Falcon motioned for them to follow, slipping back through the undergrowth and away.

They traveled upward, the cedars taking over, stifling all beneath them. Falcon was silent as he glided through the trees, a bed of russet needles underfoot muffling the noise of his footsteps. Both elves were a little shorter than Josh and slightly built. But each carried a certain confidence that belayed their ability to fight. Whether it was the ring assessing them or Josh merely wanting to understand how they would handle themselves when push came to its inevitable shove, he didn't know. But he built a picture of their fighting style as they walked. They would be swift—lightning fast and deadly, jabbing rather than punching, sapping life rather than a quick win.

Smeeks would be more of a classic melee fighter. Josh imagined him fencing, one hand on his waist, stabbing forward, retreating, then advancing again.

Of all of them, Cassandra was the mystery. He'd never seen her fight properly or lose her temper. But she had shown courage. She'd faced down the necrotic wolves, getting two strikes away before retreating.

“How are you holding up?” he asked her.

“Legs are still a bit shaky, and my pussy thinks it's been in a bar fight, but I wouldn't change it for the world.”

“That's not what I mean, and you know it.” He laughed and received an admonishing look from Dec for his trouble. “The fight. Have you got any idea what spells you're going to use?”

“Nope. I have my flying knife spell. Might be able to turn a few spears against them—deflect any iron-shod arrows, that sort of thing, but beyond that, I'm not sure what good I'd do.”

“You know you can move the ground from under them, right?”

“So Thadius says, but I've never done it, so I'm not sure I can.”

“But your affinity for wood is familiar—you sensed the trapdoor. Could you move wood like you move stone?”

“I guess. When I built the house, I didn't heft all the trunks in place. I cheated.”

“Cheated?”

“Felled the trees with a thought, stripped the branches with another, then lifted them into place with a third. That sort of thing.”

He grabbed hold of her. “See? You do have the strength. You can do anything you want. You could rip a tree from its roots and smash them over the head with it. You could tear the forest down and let them fall all on Calico and his men.”

Smeeks grabbed Josh's arm. “We still aren't sure it's the kingsman.”

“Aren't sure? He set up his camp on top of the ruins, warned us away, then vanished here? What aren't you unsure about?”

“What if he went after the wolves and died doing it? What if he got jumped by the cultists, and they're holding him hostage, too?”

“No—no—there's something up with that man. I've only heard a bit of the story, but he ruined Thadius’ reputation to get close to the king. That much, I know. Thadius and Arabella are good people. They've been double-crossed somewhere along the way.”

“I hope you're right, Underwood. But you'd best prepare yourself for another outcome.”

“What outcome?”

“What if Thadius staged all this, and he's the head of the cultists? He's got the motivation to go after the king.”

Josh thought about its feasibility, and it did add up for a moment. But when he thought of Arabella, of Thadius blessing their union, he knew it couldn't be true.

“No—no way. You're wrong, Smeeks. They are true to themselves first and their friends second. They wouldn't betray Mythelore.”

“I hope you're right. I wouldn't fancy taking on Extrael. He's not as old and decrepit as he makes out to be.”

“I’m no pushover, even without all my advantages.”

“Yes,” Smeeks said. “We must talk about that sometime.”

Before Josh could reply, Falcon turned sharply, climbing a ridge, the cedar’s tops soon level with his shoulders. “We have to traverse this. It’s the fastest way. If we take the road, they’ll easily spot us. This way, we come in from the back of the camp.”

A rising slate pathway littered with shards and chippings formed a ridge that vanished into the mist and dusk’s darkness. “Make sure you keep the one in front of you in sight. Losing the path is easy, and one slip is a certain death.”

Josh glanced at Cassandra, who nodded back to him. “Just keep your eye on me,” he said.

“I’ll take the rear,” Dec said. “So, it’s Falcon, Josh, Cassandra, Smeeks, then me—got it?”

“It’ll be pitch black by the time we get to the rope—no sudden moves or magic. The whole side could slip if we aren’t careful.”

“Got it,” Josh said, looking at the moody sky. Clouds stifled the stars, snuffing them out, but a hint of the moon shone through as if they were thinning. “Is the moon brightening?”

“The clouds move west. They’ll begin the sacrifices as soon as it’s midnight—as soon as the light shines through.” Falcon climbed, the slope quickly steepening.

Soon, Josh was on all fours, climbing the rise and using footholds on either side of the path. Smeeks blew hard, clearly the least in shape of all of them. He slipped, his scuffed boot followed by a rain of scree tumbling down the ridge. Josh thanked god he couldn’t see the drop, that it was a mystery. He felt only the narrow path separated him and all the others from death.

They moved on slowly, the sound of Smeeks’ heavy breathing breaking the night’s still. The clouds thinned, moonlight shining through, diffuse at first. “We’re running out of time,” Josh said.

“We’ll run out of luck if we hurry,” Falcon whispered back. “We’re nearly at the rope.”

The slope steepened further, and then Falcon vanished. Josh squinted, trying to picture the scene like he had across the elven bridge. The elf reappeared, offering Josh his hand, then pulling him up and over onto a ledge. “Shuffle along. There’s not much room. When I set up this route, it was only with me in mind.”

Josh closed his eyes, vertigo grabbing hold of him, a sick feeling crawling from his knees to his guts. Moonlight bounced off the fissure’s sides, a thin silver line telling Josh a distant river sat at its bottom. The ledge, if indeed it was large enough to be called such a thing, was little more than a foot deep. He clawed at the rock behind him, trying to get some purchase. Cassandra dropped next to him, nearly overbalancing—nearly taking him with her over the edge.

“Makes my bluff look pathetic,” she said. “By the gods, that drop makes my skin crawl.” She froze. “Are we supposed to hang from that rope and make our way across?”

A rope spanned the cut, sagging in the middle like an old man’s belly.

“I think so,” Josh said.

“The sooner I can make bridges, the better.”

“The sooner I get off this ledge, the better,” Josh replied as Smeeks jumped down, shoving them all along a bit.

“Won’t matter if the ledge doesn’t hold,” he said.

“Well, you’re a cheery fucker, aren’t you?” Josh pointed out.

Dec dropped to the ledge, immediately grabbing the rope, swinging his feet up and crossing his ankles over its top. “Like this,” he said, then shimmied across the chasm.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Cassandra said.

There was no backing out. Dec made the other side quickly, with Smeeks up next.

“Did you ever wonder why they never told us how we were getting to New Elrima?” Smeeks said.

“I do now,” Josh replied as Smeeks grabbed the rope and swung his legs up.

“Wish me luck.” Smeeks shimmied over.

“New Elrima?” Josh asked.

“Same layout as the old. It fits,” Falcon replied. “Time to go.”

“I think the fight’s going to be a relatively simple affair after this,” Josh grumbled.

Blazing torches lit New Elrima. Some ran along its impressive stockade, while others illuminated the buildings lining its main thoroughfare. The scene clenched Josh’s guts. It was primal—a clip from a horror movie, except real. A drummer pounded out a beat, the sound a slow time death march, each thump resounding through Josh’s chest.

A wooden colossus stood at one end of the road. His eyes were burning with a blazing red glow. The giant faced a tower that thrust upward at the road’s other end, a light shining in its belfry. The glare from its eyes fueled the tower's light and vice-versa, as if it were some form of self-perpetuating power gathering potency with each exchange.

“It’s a copy of the Elriman ruins,” Josh said. “I’ll bet they had to recreate it here because the original watchtower had fallen.”

“More like they wanted to do it away from prying eyes,” Cassandra said.

“The soldiers arrived a day ago,” Falcon told them. “They mix with the cultists now. You can’t tell them apart.”

“Let me get this straight,” Smeeks said. “The cultists and the kingsman’s soldiers are one and the same?”

“They fitted straight in. Even their wizard donned priest’s robes. The man you call Calico hasn’t left the central hut.”

Josh’s gaze fell upon it. Right in the middle of the thoroughfare, precisely where Elowen had pitched her tent, stood a round hut. It wasn’t inconceivable that the hut and tower were linked. They had been at the ruins, and who knew what level of mimicry was going on? “We have to assume that central building is important.”

“Why?” Falcon asked.

“Because Elowen camped there on purpose. She did it to conceal a tunnel leading to the tower. Could it be placed there to receive power from the watchtower and the colossus?”

“It’s possible,” Cassandra said. “It could be that the power is coming from the meridians, then being focused and magnified by the positioning of the colossus and the watchtower.”

“So, what do we do?” Josh asked.

“Might be wise to rescue your friends,” Smeeks said, pointing to the wooden colossus. “They’re in there.”

“We rescue them, then we burn it,” Cassandra said. “Burn it all.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

AS THEY MOVED FORWARD, a dozen men spilled from the tower, hooded cloaks covering them, white masks over their faces. They marched toward the wooden colossus, blazing torches in hand.

“Looks like it’s starting,” Falcon said. “If anyone’s got a plan, now’s the time to spit it out.”

Josh squeezed his eyes, trying to think of a clever plan but coming up short at every twist and turn. At least twenty cultists headed toward the colossus, and then twenty more joined them from the round building. The drummer picked up his beat as more cultists gathered on the palisade.

A chant throbbed through the forest, moonlight finally breaking through. Once breached, the clouds fled, racing across the star-filled sky, and the cultist’s chants increased, their throaty song filling Josh with dread.

“We’ve just run out of time,” he said as he ran for New Elrima, stumbling down the steep slope, careening into cedars and tripping on their roots. He could only think of Arabella, of Elowen and Thadius, trapped within the colossus—about to burn.

The cultists picked up their pace. It was like they knew he was close—that he was coming to rescue their sacrifices. The first one threw his torch. It cartwheeled over and over as it flew through the air and hit the colossus, falling to the pyre at its feet. More torches arced toward it, and the fire caught, curling up the colossus’ legs, spitting and cracking.

“Looks like they’ve dispensed with the bloodletting,” Smeeks said.

“They’ve set fire to them!” Josh screamed. “Do something, Cassandra. Do something!”

“I don’t know what!” she cried back. “I don’t know the words!”

“The power is in you,” Falcon said, racing alongside Josh as they approached the stockade.

“You only have to believe in yourself,” Dec added.

Josh sized the stockade up, then thought no more of it, backing up a little. Dipping his shoulder, he ran straight for it, aiming for a gap between two uprights. As he neared, as he hit, he screamed, his lungs empty, pouring his frustration into the timber. It yielded a little, the bending inward. He backed up again, shrugging off the pain, and ran at it once more.

Cassandra threw her hands forward just before he hit it, yelling something in a language Josh didn’t understand. The timbers crackled and sparked, immediately riddled with blue static. They exploded, tiny fragments raining down. Unable to stop, Josh stumbled through the gap, knocked sideways by another upright.

The pyre’s heat immediately hit him, his vision clouding red and mauve. A bolt of magic smashed into his belly, but his anger pushed him on. A cultist closed, his club raised, his mask making his attack peculiarly surreal. Josh ducked his clumsy swing, punching the cultist, splitting his mask in two as he completed the punch, driving his fist into the cultist’s face, shattering bone and snapping the man’s head back.

Others surrounded him, but Josh hadn’t time to fight them all. He had to get to the burning colossus—had to rescue Arabella and the others. Fire licked at its legs, crackling—the heat intense. Smeeks, sword bloody, dispatched a cultist, then ran another through. Dec, knives flashing, had a group surrounding him. Falcon was atop the palisade. He’d wrestled a bow and arrows from another and rained death into the crowd. Josh punched, jostled, kicked and headbutted, a trail of cultists lying dead in his wake. But more surged toward him.

Moonlight bathed New Elrima, the cloud consigned to the margins. Light spewed from the colossus’ blazing red eyes in two focused beams that polarized on the round hut. A ray of white light streamed from the watchtower, meeting the red. The central building stretched and yawned, its roof vanishing under the intense focus of the magical rays. Its walls fell outward, leaving a man standing, bathed in the mixed red and white light, seeming to grow in power with every passing moment.

Cassandra ripped her gaze away from the man, screaming more unintelligible words, aiming her magic straight at the burning colossus. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with one mighty groan, with dozens of sharp snaps cracking through the forest, the colossus tried to move. It tried to lift its burning legs. The sheer effort of her casting sent Cassandra to her knees. She screamed some more, magic crackling around her, a vortex of white whisps encircling her.

“No!” the man’s voice boomed over all.

Josh punched and kicked more cultists, trying desperately to clear a path to the burning giant, but the shout drew his focus away, and there, standing in the ruins of the round hut, was Calico, except the monster hunter had grown. He must have been ten feet tall, shoulders broad, power radiating from him.

“No! You cannot beat us. Extrael must die!” Calico sent a bolt of oily black magic straight at Cassandra.

Josh dove for her, the force of his leap knocking the cultists out of the way. The dark magic smashed him in the gut as his perception skill misted with bright mauve. The force of the arcane blast sent him tumbling backward, flying over Cassandra and crashing against the palisade. The stockade only slowed him as he punched a hole in it, splintering logs exploding outward. He tumbled and rolled, coming to a halt, springing up, surprised when his legs still worked.

“Must be tougher than I think I am,” he said, shrugged, and raced back in.

Falcon tossed him a potion. “Drink that.”

He didn’t question it, biting the top off and downing the drink in one hit. The woman inside his mind began speaking. Blue text started cycling across his vision, but he dismissed both, diving back into the fight.

Cassandra screamed her strange words again, sending every ounce of her power into the wood structure, forcing it to walk as she had its stone counterpart. The colossus finally moved its leg, but the bottom half, weakened by the fire, cracked and twisted, a terrible cry emanating from it as its timbers snapped. The colossus held momentarily, then, with an earsplitting crack, it toppled forward.

The fighting stopped. Every head turned as the colossus fell. A scream erupted inside its chest, a shrill cry that could have only come from Elowen or Arabella. The scream faded as the wood giant slowly toppled over.

But when it finally hit the ground, as it cut a bloody line through the gathered cultists, the eruption of noise from its eventual crash both deafened and spurred Josh into action. He finally drew his sword, holding it in both hands as he ignored each and every attack the cultists threw at him. He cut a pathway through them; his vision clouded red and mauve, but nothing detracted him from his end goal.

The colossus’ fire spread to the stockade and the nearby buildings, black smoke swirling around him. Cultists lurched through the smoke, some attacking, some running, all dying. Cassandra caught up with him, her face bloodied and bruised, magic flying from her, punching holes in cultists, cutting limbs from them as they tried to run. Then Smeeks was there, his sword still in hand, strokes deft, slick, like nothing had yet happened that could phase him.

“Over here!” called Dec as he fished through the fiery corpse of the once magnificent colossus. He dragged out Elowen, her face blackened, clothes burned and torn. “Thadius is by her,” he cried, carrying Elowen’s limp body away, soon shrouded by the black smoke.

Falcon appeared. He dragged Thadius from the fire, picking the old man up and tossing him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing.

“Arabella! Where’s Arabella?”

A throaty laugh sounded, rumbling through the chaos. Josh turned. Calico strode through, looming over him, his magic-gorged body looking like it was about to burst, black mist curling around him. “You think I’d burn my Arabella with the others? You think I’d sacrifice her to the gods? She’s mine, Underwood, all mine!”

Before Josh could respond, Smeeks charged, his sword raised. Calico stuck out his hand, casually firing off a spell that lifted Smeeks’ body clear off the ground and sent him hurtling away into the thick smoke.

“Where is she, Calico?”

Calico laughed. “She never left Elrima. She’s at the ruins, and when Maechellion rises, she will be the first thing the great man will see. He will bless our union, and Arabella will be mine!”

“Over my dead body.”

“That,” said Calico, “is exactly how I imagine it to be.” He raised his hands, eyes afire with hatred. “Time to die, Underwood!” A ball of black magic gathered on his cupped palms.

“Destante Tork!” Cassandra yelled, and two knives sped through the air, plunging into Calico’s eyes.

Calico screamed, reaching up in mid-spell, trying to pull the knives from his eyes. Black magic crackling over his hands, engulfing his head and seeping into his ruined eyes.

Josh wasted no time, bracing his feet and swinging his sword, pouring every ounce of strength from his body as he drove it at Calico’s knee. The blade hit the kingsman as he pulled the first knife from his eyes, his face sagging, curses slurred. Josh forced the sword on, powering his shoulders round, digging his heels in. Flesh and bone split apart, the limb severed. Calico fell. His other knee gave way as black magic crawled into his eyesocket, blood belching down his cheek.

Cassandra commanded the blades back, holding them barely a second before she sent them back at him. “Destante tork!” she cried again, cold malice in her voice.

The blades flew from her hands. Each thudded into Calico’s throat, cutting his screams off. The kingsman stilled, his sightless eyes weeping gouts of crimson as more blood ringed his neck. It seemed like he might say something—or at least want to—as his hands fell to his sides, and he looked upward. Black magic poured from him, twisting into the night sky, curving and heading east. As it left his body, so it shriveled, shrinking, deflating, until nothing but bones remained, which collapsed into a heap and then turned to dust.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about that,” Cassandra said, then turned, her new magic streaming from her as she savaged the remaining cultists.

Josh picked Thadius up.

“Put me down! I'm not dead yet,” the old man protested.

“No time,” Josh replied as he dumped Thadius in the back of the wagon. “We've got to get to her.”

Thadius scrambled up, brushing his clothes and throwing up a cloud of soot. A racking cough gripped him as he spat black saliva out. “We have, but she's important to them. Calico called her the bride. Either he means to have her himself or give her to Maechellion.”

“What do you mean, have her himself? He's dead. You saw his bones crumble to dust.”

“I saw him grow to ten feet tall. I saw his essence tear away, arcing toward the horizon. Josh, we're dealing with a sorcerer who's survived generations. Take nothing at face value. These aren't the actions of a simple monster.”

“We still need to get a move on.”

“Granted.”

Josh ran to Elowen and Cassandra. “How are you feeling?”

“Shaken,” Elowen said. “They had Arabella. We went to her—Thadius tried to fight, but there were too many of them. They marched her toward the colossus, then brought us here.”

“Did they take her up inside it?”

“Through that entrance you told me about? No. They forced her to her knees, like they presented her to it, but not like a sacrifice.”

“Like a wife,” Josh growled.

“There's something else going on,” Cassandra said. “We can talk about it on the way back to Elrima.”

“Don't go back to that place,” Dec said.

Josh appraised the half-elf. He'd put in a shift; blood stained every inch of his clothing. Cuts and scrapes crisscrossed his face. But something bubbled under his concerned expression. It wasn't tiredness, no, and it certainly wasn't defeat. It was a relief.

“Where's Falcon?”

“Gone.”

“Gone as in dead?” Then it struck him, so obvious he couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before. “Gone to raise the elves.”

“The elves have gathered already. He's gone to tell them to attack. We cannot let this evil rise again. Dozens escaped this slaughter, but I sense they achieved their task.”

“Soul infusion?” Cassandra asked.

“Just that,” Dec said. “Thadius may not have died in the fire, but plenty did. Plus, magic infused Calico's body as he fell. All they required was that a powerful human died. That powered the transfer. I believe Calico and Maechellion are one.”

“If that's the case,” Josh said. “Then he wouldn't have risked his whole army here.”

They rushed back to the cart, telling Thadius their wild theory. The old man pulled Elowen into the back, forcing her to drink some water. He fell silent as he absorbed the facts.

“Calico laughed at the end? He would have laughed had he got his wish.”

“I don't think he ever saw himself dying,” Josh said.

“No, but one of them had to die for his soul to join Maechellion.” Thadius raked at his beard, clumps of singed hair falling out. “I'll bet Calico thought himself stronger than the wizard. I'll bet his arrogance saw him possess the sorcerer's powers—to absorb them into him. He wouldn't have foreseen Maechellion taking over his body.”

Josh punched the wagon, his fist shattering its side. “The idiot gave Maechellion exactly what he needed to rise again.”

“What?” asked Dec.

Elowen cleared her throat. “The black spiral rising from Calico's body wasn't his soul. It was his vitality—his health.”

“Maechellion didn't want the fool for his mind,” Thadius added.

“He wanted him for his body,” Cassandra completed.

It changed nothing. They were stuck in the Evermore while Arabella was alone, a captive of an evil sorcerer whose power reached from his eternal tomb. All Josh could do was pray as they boarded the wagon and headed back.

“Go to the edge of the forest. The elves are gathering at the switchbacks,” Dec said.

“Hardacre,” Josh said, suddenly realizing he hadn’t seen Turnic’s right-hand man. “Where the hell is Hardacre?”

“If anyone’s capable of maneuvering himself into a powerful position, it’s that one,” Smeeks said. “He was Turnic’s man for years, and I barely knew him. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had a small army holed up somewhere in the Evermore.”

“Maechellion’s is going to need a commander. Evil sorcerers rarely make for great generals,” Thadius pointed out.

“And Hardacre’s got mercenary written all over him,” Josh added.

Silence fell on the cart. Dec took the reins from Josh. “Get some rest. You did a hell of a lot of fighting.”

Cassandra rested her head on Josh’s shoulder. “That magic drained me.”

“You were badass.” He put his arm around her. “Where did it all come from?”

“Rage,” she said. “I’d never felt so much rage before. It was unfocused. I was lashing out—little more. Once I learn to control it, then I can see it—I can see its potential. At the moment, I’m like a bully, striking weaker targets with no craft whatsoever. Thadius is right. I need some training—someone to stop me from doing irreparable damage. I could destroy everything if I’m not careful.”

“That is the focus of any good magic school,” Thadius said from the back of the wagon. “Any magician can spew erratic magic about. It will usually do little damage, certainly not as much as a concentrated spell. Control is the key—control, an absence of emotion, and focus. How did you get on, Josh? Did you gain any points? I saw you dishing out plenty of punishment, but you took very little. Apart from when you tried to knock down a palisade, I feel that was a little foolhardy.”

“Let me look. It tried to notify me earlier, but I brushed it aside.”

“You people speak absolute gibberish. Has anyone ever told you about that?” Smeeks said.

“It’s something we may have to explain at some point,” Thadius replied.

“Nope.” Smeeks raised his hand, swiping Thadius’s words away. “I don’t want to know. Ignorance, Thadius, is sometimes bliss, and I want to be blissfully unaware of everything. If Seymour or, God forbid, the king were ever to visit me, I’d want to say, ‘Underwood? Yes, I knew him. Not a bad fighter at all.’ That’s it—just that.”

“Then you shall remain that way. Josh is merely a good fighter.”

“A bit rough around the edges,” Smeeks pointed out.

“Yep. Could do with a polish.”

Josh barely hid his smile, preferring his grim mood. He looked up his notification.

Strength–poor

Speed and agility–poor

Durability–poor

Combat instinct–poor

Arcane resistance–poor

Assessing requirements to protect the host

Upgrading strength

Strength +1

Upgrading speed and agility

Speed and agility +1

Upgrading durability

Durability +1

Upgrading Combat Instinct

Combat Instinct +1

Upgrading arcane resistance

Arcane resistance +1

New Score =

Strength = 10

Speed and Agility = 10

Durability = 23

Combat instinct = 13

Arcane resistance = 21

Average = 15.4

It wasn’t bad. He’d never had a clean sweep of attributes before. He mulled over the report as Cassandra’s soft snores brought him some measure of peace. His strength was a mystery, as were speed and agility. Sure, he’d needed more strength to batter down the wall, but was his failure to do it the reason for the additional point? The same went for speed and agility. Yes, he could have done with more. He might have been able to scale the wall had he been more agile. He could have reached the burning colossus if he’d had more speed. On balance, if he were to assess the fight, then yes, improvements were needed.

When he looked at durability, sure, he’d crunched his shoulder again, even taken a few hits during the battle. His Call to Arms breastplate had deflected most of the damage Calico’s magic had inflicted on him, negating the need for enhanced durability. But, once more, he’d award himself a point on balance. Combat instinct was simple enough. He’d shown none, so the ring could only think he was useless. As soon as he’d seen the pyre lit, all sense had left him. He was surprised he’d only got one point. Arcane resistance, well, he had been hit with magic. It had slowed him a bit. His only thought was to wonder if the extra point wasn’t infusing the breastplate somehow. He remembered back to the Grillons, how their armor deflected laser beams. It was highly likely the stat increases were also making the armor more effective.

“Get much?” Thadius asked.

“Enough. Halfway to the next.”

Josh closed his eyes, desperate to recharge. He had to be alert when they arrived at the switchbacks.

He had to persuade the elves not to kill his girl.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

THE SUN STRAINED TO RISE. It peeked over the eastern horizon but lingered there as if afraid of what the day would bring. Josh stared north, his focus on the colossus. He wanted to jump off the cart and run to his Arabella. He understood, his combat instinct told him, that she was another battle, and this time, the battle needed meticulous planning.

His shallow sleep hadn’t stopped him from analyzing the previous day’s events. It was, he supposed, a debrief, part of the ring’s method. It could award him all the points it wanted in combat instinct, but if he took no notice of the craft—if he allowed his headstrong heart to dictate his action then that score was pointless. It was entirely possible that the Grillons were more pliable than a human. If they followed the ring’s instructions without emotional input, much like a robot would follow commands, then abstract things like combat instinct would be so much more important. But, by adding a human’s intuition, if Josh could get it right, he could adapt to an ever-changing battlefield so much better.

So, he studied the likely situation awaiting him at the ruins. He was pretty positive that Arabella would be in one of two places. If Maechellion had yet to emerge from the colossus, she would be there. If he had, and he needed his tomes and scrolls, then she would be under the tower. Therefore, he needed two plans.

With regard to Hardacre—the missing piece—he hadn’t shown up at the ceremony, but he had overseen the temple construction, according to Smeeks. Assuming he was unconcerned or unaware of Josh’s intention to rescue Thadius and Elowen, Josh assumed Hardacre’s job was done there. His non-attendance confirmed that. Therefore, Josh concluded that Calico had been set up from the start and that it had always been the sorcerer’s intention to steal Calico’s vitality, which elevated Hardacre to Maechellion’s side.

If that was the case, then Hardacre had played his part well. Aligning with Turnic, he’d become the third most important person in Elrima, but, more importantly, he’d been largely anonymous. Turnic and Smeeks were regarded as the government and law, allowing Hardacre to plan without rearing his head above the parapet.

But, if that were the case, Hardacre would come with an army, and that army wouldn’t be riddled with old men. He’d already eliminated Calico’s soldiers. They were dead, injured, or stranded in the Evermore, no doubt lured there to isolate them from the second phase of what appeared to be a complex operation.

“What are they like?” he asked Dec.

“They?”

“The elves. I have this picture in my mind, but you don’t fit it, and Falcon didn’t come close either.”

“What’s the picture?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“That bad?”

“Sickeningly good. I have you all down as next to perfect.”

He laughed. “We’re hardly that. We have a hatred of evil. It binds us together, but you don’t have to be perfect to fight it. We brawl. We drink. We do all the things humans do and more.”

“So, what side am I on?” Josh asked.

“I don’t follow.”

“Are you about to send an army to Elrima to kill every human in the area, or are you going after the bad guys?”

“You’ll have to sort that out with Herrelon. He’ll be aiming to end the cult. If that means killing every human—if that’s what it takes, he’ll do that.”

“Then we’d best work together to stop that. There are a lot of innocent folks down there—women, children and men. From what I gather, that kind of blanket killing set man and elf at each other’s throats years ago.”

“Then you’d best have a good plan. Like I said, one way or the other, Maechellion’s cult dies today.”

“You’ll start a war with all Mythelore,” Thadius said from the cart’s back.

“Then it will be war,” Dec said. “For I can only report what I’ve seen. The sorcerer has risen.”

Herrelon sat upon a white horse. His braided hair hung to his chest, and he held his chin high, looking down his aquiline nose, his heavily lidded eyes barely open. He wore a chain-mail shirt, brown cotton pants and held a spear. A bow hung from his shoulder, and he had a quiver strapped to his horse. His ruddy face made it look like he drank too much, and his scowl dismissed any notion that elves might be gentlefolk. He could have easily been human—a brigand or thief, were it not for his sharp eyebrows and sharper ears.

“Does the Dark One rise?” he asked. One thing fit Josh’s elven stereotype, and it was his high-pitched voice, which sounded wrong coming from the rest of him.

“He has,” Dec confirmed as Falcon came into view and stood by Herrelon.

Falcon hadn’t changed, still sporting full camouflage and his wool hat. “No one has emerged from the giant,” he said.

“Then we have a chance,” Josh said.

“We do,” Herrelon said. “We attack, kill the cultists, and then set a fire at the base of the giant. The heat will crack it apart, letting us get to the sorcerer. This time, we finish it. We kill him and reduce it to powder, then scatter the ashes in the Hangflow.”

“That’s a terrible plan, and you know it. At least, I hope you do. For a start, Arabella is in there with him. I believe you know her. Also, he has magic, and I can’t see any arcane threat emanating from you.”

“We have the numbers.”

“Hold on,” Josh said. “You won’t be fighting cultists. I think you’ll be against a highly skilled army run by a capable general. Also, if you decide to burn the colossus, fire won’t do it. The cultist has elemental magic. He’ll counter anything you try.”

“Then who can beat him?” Herrelon said.

“I can.” Cassandra stepped forward.

Herrelon grinned. “A witch with a few parlor tricks can beat the sorcerer, Maechellion? I thought you a mere eccentric who chose to live on our lands because her own people reviled her.”

“Now, just you wait—” Josh stepped forward, but Cassandra held her hand up.

“A girl can get a little more powerful, can’t she?” She thrust out her hand, pointing at Herrelon’s spear and dragging its steel tip upward, forcing its shaft around. She beckoned it to her, snapping it out of his grasp, then tossed it upward, the spear racing for the clouds. “But,” she continued, “I’m not the finished article.” She pointed at the ground in front of Herrelon’s white charger, and the spear plunged from the sky, stabbing into the mud and burying itself halfway up its length.

“It is no surprise that you can influence metal. We have seen you do it a thousand times. Yes, Cassandra, we have watched you.” His smile was as sinister as his looks. “It will take more to beat Maechellion, a man who steps across time herself.”

Cassandra dipped her head. “Then surely a few sticks and a flame will, as Josh says, do nothing. A sorcerer who steps through time isn’t likely to be undone by a fire. If that’s the case, what’s your next plan? Because I think I’m the only one you’ve got.”

Herrelon leaned close to Falcon. “You are right. The cat has grown teeth and claws. Thadius, we have known each other for longer than we have observed the witch. We trust you and call you Elf-friend. What are your thoughts regarding her?”

He jumped from the cart, shaking out his cloak and pushing back his long hair. “It is true. I knew your father long before you and your mother before even him. I have stepped among the elves and am proud to call many friends. But it is also true that you are poor judges regarding humans. You watched when you could have intervened. You waited when you could have snuffed out. The magic I saw last night is beyond Cassandra.”

“It’s—”

“It is, Cassandra. It’s beyond you as you stand. She is a harmonic, Herrelon. There has only been one other in living memory, but alas, her magic faded. I think you know why.”

An elven woman walked out from behind Herrelon. Of those gathered, she looked like an elf, as far as Josh was concerned. She had that certain regality that he considered an essential component of the race, but that sadly was missing from Dec, Falcon, Herrelon, and the other milling warriors. Her pose belied her power, yet her expression told Josh that power was absent—that it had once been but was no more. Her skin was wrinkled but in a distinguished way, and the creases radiating from her eyes matched the gray wisps in her long, blonde hair. “There can only be one,” she said.

Thadius bowed. “Simmalion. It is good to see you.”

“It is never good to see you, Thadius Extrael. It means a monster is close, and this time is no exception.”

She held a staff in her hand. Formed of white wood, its shaft was plain and straight and rose to an emerald teardrop about the size of a fist. The wood curved around it, rejoining at its top to twist and form a small crown. She held it limply, not tightly like one would a thing of certain power.

“No monster, just a man seeking more power than it’s healthy to have. We’ve been here before and will undoubtedly arrive at the same spot again sometime in the future.”

“But surely we’ve overstayed our welcome at such a spot, and it is up to others to win the battles.”

“That it is, Simmalion. But the young need the tools the old ones were afforded to win those battles.” He paused, then stepped forward alongside Josh. “I’d like to introduce this young man to you. His name is Josh Underwood. He intends to meet those foes and eradicate them. But, like all youngsters, he has his own thoughts on how that is best handled. He’s putting together a team. Cassandra is part of that, and I think you know how vital she could be.”

Simmalion smiled. “I do, and I wish we’d thought of it.”

“He needs a healer, too.”

Simmalion paled. “No.”

“Arabella risks her life—even now. Even as we speak.”

“No.”

Thadius raised his eyebrows. “Really? I thought you, of all people, would at least offer her the choice to cross the bridge.”

“I give up enough this day.”

“You give up nothing,” Thadius’ voice thundered.

“You are too harsh.”

“No, I’m not. Cassandra has chosen to be with him. Arabella has chosen the path, too. Would I have wanted her to find love with a farmer, have her tend sheep and scythe hay rather than fight a monster the size of a mountain? Yes, what father wouldn’t? But a part of me, at first a speck but now a big, bright ball, is excited for her. But to enjoy that life—to have a shot at it—she has to survive this day, and if she doesn’t, if Maechellion ends her, then the Gods will witness Josh’s wrath, and it will tear Mythelore apart. So yes, I am harsh, but my stakes are high. Sort your business with Cassandra. Instruct her well. Time is short, and we must be moving on Elrima.”

“And the other matter?”

“We will move on. I will not drive a wedge between you. But, by not even offering her the chance, you might find that wedge already there.”

Thadius retreated, steering Josh with him and signaling Smeeks to join them.

“What the hell was all that about?” Josh spat once they were out of earshot.

“That was about two things, Josh. Two very important things.” He crouched down. “To address the first point. It is my belief and Simmalion’s that there is only one harmonic in Mythelore at any moment in time. The wizards of Califire would disagree and say that each member of the Grand Council is one, and there are fifty of them, but I disagree. One can pretend to be a harmonic using parlor tricks, but a true harmonic can call down a tempest, split the earth asunder, or destroy a man in a raging inferno. There is no faking that. Simmalion was such a sorceress. We have fought the odd monster together, right up until a moment a score and more years ago, when she suddenly lost her power.”

“She lost her power?” Josh asked.

Thadius snapped his fingers. “Just like that.” He looked in the direction Cassandra had gone. “How old do you think she is? Twenty-two? Twenty-four? Coincidence? Let’s assume not. I propose that Simmalion lost her powers the day Cassandra was born. I also think it was no coincidence that Cassandra made her way here. Those same powers need a companion, and that companion is the Everdeep Stone—the very same stone that sits upon Simmalion’s staff. Her erratic power—her wild magic—will focus once she understands the Everdeep.”

“That’s what the elves meant when they said it was no surprise that she’d crossed the bridge,” Josh said.

“That’s exactly what they meant. They knew her, but they were loathe to pass on the power. Elves are no different to us. Power seduces by its very nature. Do I want to give up being Thadius Extrael, Monster Slayer? A part of me does, but most of me wants to revel in the notoriety. Today, she has to give up the one thing that separates her from a thousand other elven women. That is no small task.”

“What was the other thing you asked her to give up?”

Thadius looked at his feet, shaking his head. “In that matter, I overstepped.”

“How so?”

“I asked her to give up her daughter.”

“Her daughter?”

“Vellarial—she is a healer. She is the best healer in all of Mythelore. You wanted one for the team. I tried to get you the best.”

“What makes her so good? If Cassandra has all the magic—if she’s a harmonic, surely anything Vellarial can do, Cassandra can do.”

Thadius squeezed his face up, pointing at Josh. “I see your logic, but it’s like this. Take Carl, for instance. He’s proficient in almost every weapon going—and by proficient, I mean he excels. Imagine if he came up against a master swordsman who’d studied that one weapon since he could stand. Who would win the duel?”

“The master, of course.”

“Yes! Now, imagine the same battle, but every weapon conceivable litters the field. Our master swordsman can only pick up swords and only use swords. Carl can pick up any weapon he wishes—bow, spear, mace, knife, axe, sword—any. Who wins now?”

“I get it.”

“Vella is our master swordswoman, except she can heal. She can heal with potions, by casting, through poultices, splints, spells and rituals. If there is a chance that a person can live, Vella can magnify that chance and pull them back from the brink.”

“But she won’t come.” Josh wished he’d never heard of her. He wanted her to join them so badly that his gut cramped. He didn’t necessarily need a healer—his ring appeared to have a good handle on his health, but his companions would. He looked over at the cart, and although he couldn’t see her, he knew Elowen lay there, still choked with smoke—still suffering.

“No,” Thadius said. “Simmalion’s heart would have broken.”

Josh rose. “I understand, but I still have to ask.”

“Ask what?”

“If she’ll help Elowen.”

“No!” Thadius said, reaching for Josh but missing. “You cannot ask that of Simmalion.”

“I wasn’t going to ask her.”

He jumped into the cart, lifting Elowen. She was pale, her face blackened with soot. Her body lay limply across his arms as he jumped down. He approached Helleron. “I hear you have a healer amongst you. Can she take a look at this one?”

“There is no healer here.”

“Then take me to her. Elowen’s knowledge will be vital if we have to face Maechellion. Your swords will not be the only difference in this battle.”

“There is no healer here. Be gone, Human.”

Josh walked forward, but the elves closed ranks.

“Look, I just need a potion to clear her lungs. The cultists tried to burn her alive. Surely you must have an ounce of empathy between you?”

“There is no healer here,” Helleron repeated.

“Then I fear there can never be any friendship between man and elf while you deem a human life so unimportant. You are exactly how I imagined you.”

He turned, walking away.

“Wait!”

The voice trickled into his ear like a river’s burble.

“Wait. I look. Lay on the ground.”

Josh spun around, kneeling and laying Elowen on the road. He retreated a few yards. “Thank you. That was all I asked.”

A young woman slipped between the ranks of elves. The stark whiteness of her hair drew Josh’s eye straight away. It framed her pale face, skin so milky it might have been porcelain. He couldn’t make out her eye color, but knew it was unique—much lighter than blue, perhaps a subtle shade of gray. The tips of her pointed ears poked through her hair, and her lips were the color of rose quartz. She wore a half-cut top of woven green, not wool or any cloth Josh knew, but more like he’d imagine a hemp top, had the plant been cut that day. Its green was vibrant, as if alive, and formed around her ample breasts, like cupping hands rather than frigid support. A narrow band of milk-white flesh separated her top from the shortest skirt Josh could imagine—made from the same material as her top. She was barefoot, and that somehow added to her sylph-like innocence.

“A fire?” she said, leaning down, her ear to Elowen’s chest.

Josh tore his gaze away from her cleavage. “Yes,” he said.

“Magical?”

“Likely.”

She crouched, fishing in her top and finding a small vial. “Hold nose for me?”

Helleron moved forward.

“Not you. Him.”

“Josh,” said Josh, crouching. “And I very much want her to live.”

“Your lover?”

“No. But she could become a good friend. I’d like the chance for that friendship to blossom.”

“You will get. This will empty her lungs.”

Their eyes met, and Josh saw that he was right. They were gray but so pale they were almost white. “Then I will be in your debt forever.”

“Which one of you, man of two halves and not one whole?”

Josh’s gaze fell on his ring. She grabbed his hand, rolling the ring between her thumb and forefinger.

“Good or evil?” she asked.

“It could be either or both,” he said. “I will try and make sure my heart stays true.”

“You must remain in control. Magic hard master fine servant.” She held his gaze momentarily, then focused back on Elowen. “Hold nose.”

“Like this?”

“Too gentle. Lover’s touch. Not there with this one yet.”

“I—” he made to say.

“Don’t. The witch is yours. I know. I watched. This one, not yet.” She reached for his fingers, squeezing them, forcing Elowen’s nostrils shut. Elowen gasped, and as she inhaled, the elven woman sprinkled the potion into her mouth. “Now lift her. She will cough, and all the corruption will come out.”

Josh lifted Elowen up, holding her head down as her lungs began heaving. “Thank you,” he said.

She lingered for a moment. “She will be yours now.”

“No. She might be in time, but we hardly know each other.”

“Saving her life will tip that balance.” She winked at him. “Bluff might be very busy soon.” She laughed, jumping up and away.

“She watched?” he said to himself as Elowen coughed her guts up.

He carried her back to the cart. Laying her in it and covering her with a blanket. She opened her eyes and stared at him.

“Thank you. Thank you.” Then she smiled, and it warmed Josh’s heart.

“You’re very welcome, but it wasn’t me that healed you.”

“How do you know that, Josh Underwood?” Elowen asked.

Chapter Forty

“HER SHOULDERS ARE STRAIGHTER. They're definitely straighter,” Josh said.

“Is she glowing?” Smeeks asked.

Josh took a couple of steps forward. Nerves gripped him. Cassandra held the Everdeep staff, its emerald glowing like a tiny sprite lived inside. She locked eyes with him, and a smile flitted across her lips.

“Oh, Josh,” she said as she neared. “She explained everything.”

“Do you understand your power?”

“I know its capability, but it will take a long time to fathom all the interlocking paths.” She walked closer. “Take my arm. I think I'm going to collapse. I’m giddy with excitement.”

Josh slid his arm through hers. He sensed her power, but his vision didn't cloud with mauve as she bore no threat to him. It sat within her like a brooding storm, welling, ready to break free.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm not sure. I've gained so much, but I've lost something.”

“What?”

“My old self. I have lost the carefree witch that moved the colossus for fun.”

“No—no, you haven't. She will return. She's a little overawed at the moment, but she's still in there.”

“How can you be sure?”

He smiled and nudged her, trying to coax a smile. “Because I've become quite powerful, but I'm still the asshole I always was.”

She exhaled, stopping, then approaching the others. “I hope you’re right. I don’t want to become one of those stuck-up wizardy types that think they’re above everyone else.”

“You? Stuck-up? I don’t think so.”

“So, was I right?” Thadius asked, reaching for her and holding her hand. “You have the power?”

“Yes. I am a harmonic—the harmonic if everything else is correct. It is a great responsibility. Perhaps too much.” She pulled her hand back. “Why me? I was perfectly happy in my little house.”

“No, you weren’t!” Josh said. “You were lonely. You were an outcast, remember?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t have the weight of the land’s fate on my shoulders.”

“Well, it gets easier,” Thadius said. “Chin up.”

“How much do you know right now? Can you defeat Maechellion?” Josh asked.

“That I don't know. It is too new to me. I think I can do it, but until I try, who knows?”

“We need to find a way to disrupt his spells,” Thadius said.

Elowen cleared her throat. “I read several of his books and a few of the scrolls I found under the tower. The positioning of the buildings was critical to power. He was a ritualist. Most of his power derived from sigils and runes, forming the Grand Shape.”

“Yes, we read that,” Cassandra said. “We read that together. It was all about channeling the land's power through its ley lines.”

“Hold on!” Josh said, staring at Elowen. “I smell cheating, you!” He pointed at her. “When we both had to come up with a theory of how Maechellion had summoned the wolves, you failed to mention the books you'd read. Why is that?”

The archaeologist blushed. “Did I not? If I didn't, it was only an oversight. Of course, I read a few scrolls and the like.” She fluttered her eyelids. “It’s what I do.”

“Not a hint of cheating?” Josh asked. “You do see how it could be considered cheating, though?”

She squirmed, pouting, taking her glasses and flipping her hair back. “Perhaps a little.” She thrust her cleavage forward. “Do you forgive me?”

“Ermm, yes,” Josh said, unable to tear his focus from her. “I forgive you, and doubly so if you and Cassandra can work out how to disrupt the sorcerer's power. And that,”—he waved at her breasts—”If you think that’s working, you’d be right.”

She straightened, cupping one of her breasts. “You know, I still can’t work out what men find so attractive about these. I mean, they’re nice and all, but eyes-on-stalks nice? Not sure.”

Cassandra reached, cupping the other. “I think they’re perfect. Not too big and certainly not too small. I’d spend the night fumbling them to my heart’s content.”

“Can we get back to the sorcerer, please?” Josh asked, adjusting his pants.

“Yes,” Thadius said grimly. “We need to press on. None of this alters the fact that Arabella is being held captive, and we must rescue her.”

“Arabella, of course, Arabella,” both girls said.

Josh took a long breath and then called Helleron over. “Now's the time to make a choice. Are we fighting together or apart?”

Helleron marched over like a true warrior, feet thudding, mouth grimacing. He grunted. “We fight together. But let it be known that the evil must be ended. Maechellion must die. We will not accept any other outcome.”

“Grand words or not, the elves aren't in a position to do that. You have no magic—she is the power around here now.” He pointed at Cassandra. “You accept that now, or we part ways.”

“What do you propose?”

“We take the sorcerer. You take out Hardacre's army—and just the army, no civilians.”

“We do not revel in the slaughter of civilians,” he said dismissively.

“Our history tells us differently,” Dec said.

“Your history and mine are two different things, half-elf,” Helleron spat.

Dec stiffened. “You might only have one lineage, but I have both, and neither race covered itself in glory back in those days. I would suggest you do as Josh says, behave as you would hope an elf behaves and begin to undo the evils of the past. Otherwise, your son and daughter will find themselves where we do.”

Helleron eyed Dec up and down. “Have you lived with them too long? Do you think like them now?”

“I live where I'm least unwelcome. The humans tolerated me, which was more than I could say for the elves. I still bear their shame.” He pushed his hair back and revealed his ears.

“Your blood is impure—no amount of bleating will change that.”

“Yet you’re happy for me to work for you? Tell me, how come you entrusted me with running this entire mission?”

“Because you smell like they do.” Heleron grunted, turning his nose up and turning back to Josh. “We have observed small organized units patrolling the ruins and the city. What do you propose?”

“How many men are at your disposal?”

“We have a little over sixty fighters, male and female.”

“Archers?”

“All are archers. All are sworders, spears or close quarters. Our training is in every discipline.”

Josh grabbed a twig, drawing a line. “You station twenty here on the two hills. If some are better at archery than others, then they go here. They lie low and sneak into position while your main forces come from the west. The ones on the hill have one task: to stop the soldiers in Elrima from reinforcing those in the ruins.”

He turned to Smeeks. “Your task is the hardest. You must enter the village, assess the situation, gather any still loyal to you, and start an insurrection. Whittle Hardacre's numbers down. My guess is that his better men will be at the ruins.”

“Likely, although I do not know if my men are dead. Hopefully, they saw they were outnumbered and went to ground.”

“Hopefully. Which leaves you, Helleron. I need you to attack from behind the colossus. If you can, draw the battle to the land beyond the ruins. That way, it takes all the potion sellers and the adventurers out of the picture. We don't know which side the adventurers join. As far as they're concerned, the choice between cultists and their old foes, the elves, isn't going to be easy. Hopefully, by drawing the battle away from them, they'll run rather than risk their lives in a war they have no skin in.”

“What are you going to do?”

“We come in from the hills. We sneak up behind the watchtower, and then Cassandra will attempt to reshape the ruins and reduce Maechellion's power. While she's doing that, I will attack the sorcerer and attempt to rescue Arabella.”

“I shall come with you,” Thadius said.

“No,” Josh replied. “You remember my games—my strategy?”

“The tank?” Thadius enquired. “Yes, I remember that. Why?”

“Golden rule—always protect the magician. They are vulnerable to attack while they perform their work. You and Elowen must protect Cassandra. Hardacre's no fool. He'll not send all his men to meet Helleron's attack. You must keep her safe.”

“I wonder where Carl is,” Thadius said.

“Carl will join us or be Hardacre's man by now. You said yourself he plays both sides of the fence. If he comes against you, put him down.”

“I will stay and protect the witch,” Dec said. “If she can wipe the ruins from the face of the land, even if it means my life ends this day, it would have been worth it. Evil will always prevail if they're allowed to stand.”

“As an archaeologist, I have to disagree. The ruins themselves are merely stone and mortar. They cannot be evil,” Elowen said.

“But—”

“Hold on!” Elowen stopped Dec's protest. “That was with my archaeologist's hat on. Without it, I say obliterate them and that fucking stone monstrosity.”

“It will be my pleasure,” Cassandra said.

“Just so long as you wait until I'm out,” Josh said, eyeing Elowen. Something about Elowen swearing turned him on. Foul language didn't suit her, but it sure made her hot.

“Is everyone agreed?”

“What are the timings?” Helleron asked.

“I’ll answer that,” Elowen said. “Maechellion’s power is derived from the moonlight and shade. His texts spoke about it, how it opposed the sun, and how a different force infused it. He'll not try anything until nightfall. Like as not, he gained Calico's power and form last night. Tonight, he will manifest that new power. He'll not move until the moon is high.”

“My power is strongest during daytime,” Cassandra said. “I might be weaker than him at night.”

Josh looked up at the sun. He judged it late afternoon. “We all start getting into position now. Helleron, look for a single flaming arrow, perhaps a magic bolt. Remember, light your torches, make some noise, and draw them out.”

Helleron nodded, stood, and left.

Josh waited until they were out of earshot. “Right, a couple of things,” he said. “What I'm about to tell you is a fact. Whatever you think—however fantastical it appears to you—remember what I know, and you don't.”

“Should I be here for this?” Smeeks asked.

“It might blow your mind. So, it depends on how much you enjoy sleeping at night.”

Smeeks got up. “Then I think I'll take a walk into town. If I don't need to know it, then I'd rather not fill my head with it. If we come out of this alive, I don't want to become known as the town fool who has a whole bunch of crazy theories.”

Josh jumped up, pulling Smeeks into a hug. “Look after yourself. You'll make a great sheriff when all this is done, but I'd pick a less greedy arbiter.”

“Perhaps I'll do the counting myself and find someone to draw up the ledgers—a woman, yes, a woman. I've been alone long enough.”

Josh crouched back down as Smeeks strode away.

“You sure you want to stay, Dec?”

“I'm not afraid of any truth.”

“Right, Cassandra, listen carefully to me.” He drew a circle in the mud. “This is the sun, the bright circle you see daily.” He drew a smaller circle. “And this is us. I don't want to go too far into everything, but you have to trust me when I say this. It is the truth. My people have proved this over and over. The sun isn't shaped like a disk. It is a ball—a sphere.” He held up a rounded pebble. “What you are seeing is this.” He turned it. “See, it looks like a disk. Again, you must trust me when I tell you this land is a ball, as is the moon. I can go further and tell you more, but here is the bit that will blow your mind. There is no such thing as moonlight.”

“Then what do we see?” Elowen asked, inching forward.

Josh drew a line from the sun to the moon. “What you see when the moon glows is reflected sunlight. So, you see, Cassandra, the sorcerer cannot gain more power than you because you both use the same light. He believes he can, and you don't think you can. That's the difference.”

“Is that why the moon changes shape?” Elowen asked.

“It is, but there are other factors involved, which took me months to learn and understand, and I was prepared for it. But, and the reason for this lesson now. Trust me, Cassandra, there is no such thing as moonlight, only reflected sunlight.”

She closed her eyes. “I think I can accept that. So, I can draw the moonlight but not gain as much power from it,” she said.

“Yes,” Thadius said. “But don't forget you have a huge advantage day or night.”

“I do.” She said the words partly as a statement and somewhat a question, as if slow realization crawled over her. “I do,” she said more confidently. “I have the power of the air, the earth, the water and fire.”

“And I have complete faith in you,” Josh said. He took a breath. “Let's go rescue Arabella.”

The ruins were still, not a breath of air stirring them. Low chatter sounded sporadically. The clang of pots and pans chimed, and the dull thud of soldier’s boots ponded as they patrolled the ruin's central walkway. The moon shone, casting its ethereal glow over the broken walls and stone tumbles.

Dec led them forward. The elf had a knack for finding creases in the land, brush to hide behind, and moss-woven grass that made no sound as they crept forward. Josh’s heart pounded, his palms slick with sweat. Yet, deep within him, exhilaration bubbled. He’d never get used to this. He found a certain thrill in his power—the undeniable force of the ring. There was something about being the apex predator that would never get old.

As soon as they were in position, Cassandra conjured a speck of green light, sending it shooting into the sky. As it cracked and rained down sparkles, she began chanting. The Everdeep jewel glowed briefly as a small gust swirled around them. Cassandra held it there momentarily, then released it with a wave.

Josh couldn't quite fathom what she intended, the spell sending the wind away from the ruins, but Cassandra smirked, tilted her head and said, “Hold on to your hats.” She held on to hers. He’d not remarked on it before. It suited her, the way it sat jauntily upon her head. It wasn’t quite a top hat, but a tall one, for sure, although a little crumpled.

“What’s with the hat?” he asked.

“New power—new hat,” she said, leaving it at that as if it was all the explanation needed.

A roar erupted behind the colossus as Helleron began his attack. Torches burst into life, flaming arrows arced toward the ruins, and a drum sounded.

Chaos immediately followed in the ruins as Hardacre's soldiers scrambled toward the colossus. “Hold your positions!” came the cry as a man emerged from Elowen's tent.

“That's Hardacre,” Josh whispered.

“Shall I send him a surprise?” Cassandra asked.

“No, let him think the Hellerons are the only attack.”

“I'd duck your head round and about... Now!” Cassandra said.

Josh ducked in the nick of time. A howling wind ripped over the top of them like a tsunami. Within an instant, it had passed them, an eerie still falling.

“That's put them at a severe disadvantage,” the witch whispered. “Unless they can see in the dark, that is. Reckon I got every tent as well. So they’ll have no cover,” she said.

“Okay, time for phase two,” Josh replied.

Cassandra began chanting softly. Josh held his breath, knowing that the following parts of the plan were crucial. A torch flared back to life, followed by another. Hardacre's men had begun moving toward the colossus.

The ground rumbled softly at first, then grew, shifting under them. Screams erupted, wails of disbelief, as the ruins creaked and groaned, falling, age-old mortared rock giving way. Josh scrambled forward, trying to get a better angle—attempting to picture what was happening.

The traders and adventurers ran, headed toward the hills and Elrima. But a glow from over the mounds told of a battle raging in the village. Another battle began behind the colossus as Hardacre's men and Helleron's army finally clashed.

“It is time, Josh. You must confront the sorcerer,” Thadius said.

Chapter Forty-One

USING HIS CALL TO ARMS, Josh summoned his breastplate and raced forward. Cassandra’s spell reached a crescendo, the ground heaving and cracking. Walls, standing for thousands of years, swayed, bowed, then crumbled into a thousand pieces. He hurdled a soldier, the man screaming, his leg broken in two—white bone glistening in the moonlight. The colossus stood before him, but his way was by no means clear.

He came to the road, the main way joining the ruined tower and the colossus. A soldier turned, his sword flashing. His black bib fluttered in the breeze, a hellish skull its only adornment. The foul stench of body odor and sour ale assailed Josh as the stroke glinted in the moonlight. Josh jinked to one side, spun, and avoided the strike easily. He brought his trailing leg around, kicking across the back of the soldier’s knees. The man fell, his blade biting the mud. Josh struck with two fast punches. The first drove the man’s head into his other fist. The second catastrophic hit bent his helmet into his skull, cracking it like an egg, brain matter oozing like thick sludge. Josh hardly broke his spin, revolving around and launching his next strike at a second soldier. His fist caved in the soldier’s nose, sending his whole body lurching backward.

Ahead, the colossus stood sentinel, its obsidian body lit with a ghostly aura like moonlight painted its oily surface. A strange power climbed it, rolling up its legs in waves of dark static, swirling around its groin, leaching up to its vast chest. Its eyes lit with quicksilver fire, sending a light beam along the road, causing Josh to wince as its intensity grew.

As he raced toward it, he understood what was happening. The power—Cassandra’s new power—born of the earth, shattering its surface like an eggshell, coursed along the ley line and fed the sorcerer. Maechellion was absorbing her power—using her attack to grow—to be reborn.

“No!” he screamed in frustration.

Two more soldiers attacked. Both leveled their spears and ran at him. Josh vaulted them easily, his legs cycling as he sailed over them, landing and scuffing up two divots. He slowed, turning and attacking. His mind plotted their next move, knowing they would stop—that they would turn and run toward him. Before they could, he dove at them, arms outstretched, smashing each in the side and bundling them over. One spear snapped in two. Josh grabbed its end as it sprung up, reversing it and driving it through the soldier's throat, pinning him to the ground. The other discarded his spear, drawing a knife and stabbing Josh in the side.

His breastplate deflected it, turning the blade and allowing Josh to grab his arm, snapping it easily, the knife skittering across the road as the man howled in pain. A sharp elbow to the head put the soldier out for the night. Josh sprang up, crashing into another attacker. His shoulder connected with the man’s midriff, bending him over as he powered forward, ignoring the screaming soldier. He used the man’s body as a shield and skittled two, three, four more soldiers out of the way.

Tossing the man aside, he avoided an axe strike, stripping the weapon from its wielder, turning it back on the man, and driving its head through the soldier’s exposed gut. He slowed, the speed he’d been fighting at too fast to understand. It was slow for the ring, his silent companion, ever watching, ever learning. Slow it down a bit, Josh muttered inside his mind, knowing he’d struggle to keep going at such an unrelenting pace. The ring slowed his reactions, but even at the reduced tempo, it was like the enemy had lead in their boots. He glared at the soldiers surrounding him, blood dripping from the axe’s head.

“Get home—go home—wherever your home is, or die this night. The choice is yours.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he spun the axe in his hands and attacked the largest soldier, feinting one way and striking on the other side. He sloughed the soldier’s arm clean off, blood pumping from the wound as the soldier fell face down in the mud. The others scattered, leaving Josh alone on the rumbling road.

He stared up at the colossus, its overbearing presence cowering him momentarily. The tremors subsided, the ground settling. Josh took a moment, squeezing his eyes to see through the stone giant’s legs—the battle beyond closed on the colossus, Helleron’s momentum forcing Hardacre’s troops back. A scream spurred Josh back into action. It came from the colossus and could only be Arabella.

He called to her, telling her he was coming, and he raced forward once more. A flash of dread magic erupted from the giant stone mass, arcing over the hills toward Elrima. Another flash streaked from it, smashing into the elven lines, bodies flying into the air. And then, with an ominous groan, the beast’s foot rose, and it stepped toward Josh.

Josh raced to meet it, jumping at the last minute, grabbing its foot, clambering up, and then running along it to its ankle. His vision went haywire. Red and mauve warnings flashed across his mind, but he ignored all, spurred on by Arabella’s scream.

He powered up the beast’s leg as it thudded toward the tower’s ruins. He climbed quickly past its knee, its groin, and up its side. The colossus turned, striding over the ruins, and Josh’s heart stopped as sudden realization hit him. It headed for Cassandra. Maechellion had sensed her power, and he wanted more.

Josh closed on the entrance. “I’m coming for you, you bastard!” he cried, but as he thought he would make it, with just a few handholds to climb, the sentinel began heating up, and a bright mauve ball lit up his perception. He braced, knowing a magical blast was coming, understanding that he couldn’t fall—that he had to hang on, or Arabella was lost.

Maechellion’s magic smashed through the colossus’ side, punching him in the gut. His breastplate was unable to contain all its arcane malignance. He screamed as it assailed every part of him, electrifying each nerve, causing him to convulse and foam at the mouth. But, even though lost to the intense pain, he focused solely on his hands as they gripped the stone, refusing to fall. The sorcerer’s arcane might was too much for him. Blood streamed from his eyes. His body convulsed. He knew, he understood, at that moment, that his arcane resistance was only a fraction of what he needed to get close to the sorcerer. He began to let go, sure in the knowledge that he was doomed.

“Heal.”

The word flowed over him like a warm bath. The single syllable stretched across time, elongating to form a sparkling pathway between him and its caster.

“Heal.”

It came again, like some monumental, earth-shattering statement of intent wrapped in the softest caress that had ever swaddled a word. Warmth rippled through him, pushing Maechellion’s magic aside like dust on a flagstone floor.

“Heal.”

It came again, filling Josh with new power. He inhaled, fetid black air carried away by his following exhalation.

“Renew.”

Vigor filled him. A spring morning, meadow grass and bright sunshine flowed through him.

“I am with you, Josh Underwood,” Vella said, springing onto the colossus. “Go, go now. I won’t be able to resist his magic for long.”

She scampered up the stone beast, settling on its shoulder and crouching. New vitality surged through him as a bright, mauve ball consumed his vision again. He pulled himself up, coming to the entrance, springing onto it, and finding a smooth, black stone pathway. The ball of mauve vanished, the entranceway behind him flashing as the ruins lit up.

“Well, I never expected you to get this far, Underwood,” Hardacre said as a dozen torches burst into life, lighting a small square room with another exit to one side. “But this is as far as you get.”

Arabella’s scream filled Josh’s head as he steadied himself and became accustomed to the colossus’ motion. “You won’t keep me from her, Hardacre. That was your one mistake. You fucked with my family.”

Hardacre drew his sword, spinning it from hand to hand like some ancient master. Josh finally unsheathed Thadius’ sword, holding it for the briefest moment before saying: “Fuck that!” and tossing it on the ground. Hardacre stared at the sword as it skittered across the stone straight for him. It was the only opening Josh needed.

He launched himself forward, powering into Hardacre and forcing him backward. They slammed into the opposite wall. Hardacre’s blade crashed to the ground as the warrior grabbed Josh and tossed him aside. Josh staggered across the small room, surprised by the warrior’s strength, bouncing off the wall, turning and facing the warrior.

“There’s something about you, Underwood. You’re not quite right. Too raw. Too off. You aren’t who you make out you are, so what are you?”

He lunged, his fist arcing toward Josh’s jaw. Josh let his knee collapse, ducking under the strike and sending his own toward Hardacre’s exposed jaw. But the warrior was wise, twisting his body away and using his momentum to let Josh’s counter scrape his cheek’s side. He grabbed Josh’s outstretched arm, flipping himself over and twisting Josh’s arm around.

Josh saw the break coming and flung himself around to protect himself, ripping his arm from Hardacre’s grasp. He lost his stance, lost any advantage he’d had as he fell to the stone with a thump. Hardacre regrouped, springing up and racing for Josh, drawing his foot back and launching a powerful kick at Josh’s gut.

Josh winced as the kick smashed into his breastplate, but he felt nothing. Hardacre, on the other hand, grunted in pain as his toes shattered on Josh’s unrelenting armor. He tumbled over Josh, hobbling to the room’s other side, ducking and scooping up his sword.

“Let’s finish this,” he growled, limping back toward Josh.

“You know, Hardacre, I might have let you go, but, and I’ve said this before, you fucked with my family.”

“You’re nothing, Underwood. Nothing!” he spat. “Maechellion is everything. You won’t get past me. His power runs in my veins. He grows stronger every time you throw power at him. You think you’ve got a hope? Let me tell you what hope you’ve got. Nothing—nothing at all unless you join us.”

“Join you for what? To see the world plunged into eternal darkness? To end up a sacrifice bent over a gutter while they collect my blood? You really think that’s the future I want?”

“Not that,” Hardacre said, edging around, putting himself between Josh and the Colossus’ inside. “We will be men—proper men. Riding down others. Razing villages. Taking the women. We’ll drink. We’ll fuck. We’ll be kings, Underwood, kings!”

“Don’t you see it? You’ll be nothing, Hardacre. You’ll never know what it’s like for a woman to want to touch you, to want to kiss you, to fuck you. You’ll never know what it’s like to have their adoration. Might as well die a sad bastard now as in a few years.”

“I offered,” Hardacre said. “I offered you a place by my side. Remember that as you swallow my steel.”

He lunged, his steps the same as Carl’s—his attack identical. Josh scrambled back, suddenly naked without his sword. Fire blazed in Hardacre’s eyes, a fevered lust glazing them as his kill neared. Josh saw the throat cut coming, but it was his ring that reacted. He twisted to one side, angling his body around as he grabbed Hardacre’s blade. The edges bit into his skin, but Josh’s durability held. Hardacre’s eyes grew wide with surprise, and Josh grinned, sliding his hand up to meet the sword’s hilt.

“Thing is, Hardacre, I’m not so easy to kill.”

As Hardacre met his gaze, Josh swung his punch. It landed squarely on the warrior’s cheek, cracking his bone and snapping back his head.

“And you fucked with my family.”

Josh let go of the sword, kicking Hardacre straight in the nuts, then shoving his doubled-up body across the room. Hardacre slammed into the wall, sliding down it as Josh scooped up Thadius’ sword and casually walked over to him. “It ends now.”

Hardacre lunged, grabbing Josh’s ankle. He yanked it toward him, trying to upend Josh, but it had little power to it. Kicking back, Josh freed his leg, then drove the sword straight through the back of Hardacre’s sagging head, down through his lungs and into his belly.

He pulled the blade out, kicking Hardacre’s corpse over and standing over him. He was breathing hard, his hand dripping blood, at least one rib broken. It had been a hard fight—probably his hardest so far—but Hardacre was a seasoned warrior, so Josh took it as a great sign. His progression was on track.

“Heal.”

Warmth rippled over him. The slice on his hand instantly mended as his rib snapped back into place. Vella crouched in the archway, her finger over her lips, silencing him. He shook his head, smiling, laughing inside. She was so goddam beautiful. He mouthed thank you, and she blew him a kiss in return.

“Renew.”

Josh winked at her, then turned toward the doorway that led deeper into the colossus.

Had he got his healer?

Damn right, he had!

But first, he had his girl to rescue, and an evil sorcerer to kill.

Somedays, he thought, a man’s work is never done.

Chapter Forty-Two

JOSH LINGERED, a question still unasked. “Will you be with me?”

Vella craned her neck but dared not step into the colossus. “I don't think I can,” she said. “The power, his power, don't you feel it sapping you? He’s taking my essence.”

He had no idea how healing power worked in Mythelore, but if it were anything like Cassandra's magic, Maechellion would be draining Vella. “Go then, and thank you for what you've done.”

She offered him her cheek, puckering her lips. “Thank me properly, then.”

Josh hesitated, then darted over, ignoring her offered cheek and pulling her into an embrace. He planted his lips on hers, kissing her passionately. “Join me,” he said.

“Too dangerous for elf.”

“I will protect you. Come explore the land with me, fight monsters, have fun.”

“Can't.”

He kissed her again. “Think about it.” Breaking away, he thrust Thadius' sword upward. “Off to rescue my lady.”

“Your lady,” Vella repeated.

“Promise you'll think about it?”

She curled herself around the entrance's edge. “Will think.”

Josh grinned. “Quick renew?”

“Renew!” She slunk out of the door.

Her goodness flowed over him, filling him with vital energy. The ring's voice sounded within him, the blue text coming, but he dismissed it. He'd lingered enough.

The exit led to a short corridor, bursts of red coming from it like a volcano erupted. He crept down it, approaching its edge, an oval walkway ringing a lower chamber. A ladder dropped from a hatchway opposite him. It led to the chamber's oval base—the source of the red flashes.

Maechellion stood before a vast portal-like screen. Cassandra took up the entire picture, looking up, a ball of white light cupped in her hands.

“That's it,” Maechellion said. “Feed me—feed me your power, you stupid witch.”

Josh's heart sank, knowing Cassandra would throw all her magic at him in a vain attempt to kill him.

He dithered again, torn between darting back outside and telling her to think of a new plan or confronting the sorcerer, who appeared oblivious to his presence.

Maechellion was far older than Josh had imagined. He'd assumed the sorcerer would have been in some form of preservative state during his dormancy—like Josh had been in his pod—but the opposite appeared to be the case.

The sorcerer could barely stand, his bony legs bent at the knees, skeletal arms grasping a crooked staff as he hung onto it in the vain hope he might stay upright. His clothes were rags, and his hair and beard hung like a castaway—both down to his waist.

“Man, those toenails are a disgrace.” Josh held his vomit down as he tried to rid himself of the memory of the curly, yellow nails.

But as Cassandra finally threw her magic at the colossus, as it splashed its pure radiance over it, Maechellion glowed, absorbing it all, pulsing vile red out as he lifted his head and cried out in ecstasy.

His body blurred, seemingly suspended in time, years falling away. His gray hair darkened, and his body gained some muscle. He straightened, not so reliant on the staff as before. Every part of him regained a small portion of his lost youth. Josh’s jaw dropped as he recognized Calico. Maechellion resembled an older version of the kingsman.

“He absorbed Calico’s essence,” Josh mumbled, both revolted and impressed by the sorcerer’s power. His gaze strayed behind the sorcerer. A fire raged within a circular pit, runes inscribed upon its edge. Neatly arranged totems and crystals dotted the chamber's floor. Sigils adorned its walls. Arabella hung, chained to the back wall, her arms and legs splayed, head bowed, not in submission but exhaustion. His heart wrenched, but Josh knew he had to stop Cassandra if they were to have any hope.

He raced out of the chamber, leaping Hardacre's corpse, and through the exit. “Vella?”

“Yes?” The elf appeared above him.

“You gotta do me a favor. Tell Cassandra to disengage—to leave the colossus alone. Tell her to trip it up—to bring it crashing down. I don't care how, get her to do it, got it?”

“Got it,” she said.

“Don't forget, you're part of a team now.”

“Not,” she said and winked, jumping straight off the ledge. “Not yet,” she called back.

Josh raced back in, dropping to a crawl as soon as he got to the walkway. He scrambled around as another blast of Cassandra's magic hit. Maechellion chuckled again, his red power flashing, years falling off him. Then the sorcerer screamed in anguish as Vella appeared next to Cassandra, whispering in her ear and pointing at the screen. The witch immediately dropped the magic ball, its white light reduced to sparkles, falling to the ground and vanishing.

“No!” Machellion screamed. “More power! Give me more power!”

Cassandra raised her hands.

“That's it!” the sorcerer cried. “That's it—throw it my way. Go on! Send it to me!”

But rather than launch it at the colossus, Cassandra's magic shot upward, a pillar of pure light issuing from her as she stared straight through the stone at the sorcerer. An evil smile crossed her lips, a devilish look in her eyes, and the first raindrops soaked her, quickly turning from a light shower to a deluge.

Machellion raged, knocking over his totems and glaring at Arabella. “If she won't give me power, you will!” He pulled a knife from his robes, holding it up as he neared the fire pit. “One way or the other, I will have my power back.”

Lightning flashed across the room. Josh glanced one more time toward Cassandra, who was barely visible as the deluge intensified. He prayed she knew what she was doing.

“Keep your hands off her, Maechellion!” he shouted, leaping from the balcony, trusting his strength and durability to take the fall.

The sorcerer looked up, instantly pushing his free hand out. A blast of crimson magic hurtled toward Josh, smashing into and curling around him with a deadly embrace. Its force stopped his fall, shoving him back against the chamber's stone wall. He slid down it, trying to clear his mind as static pinched at his brain.

“Perhaps you instead,” Maechellion chuckled. “I can savor her later.” The sorcerer stopped, his focus honing in on Josh's ring. “What is this? What power is this?” He laughed, a deep and throaty rasp packed with evil intent. “So, they throw their hero at me, do they? I needed power, and they sent it to me!”

He threw more magic at Josh, a twister of spiraling red strings that lashed around him, biting into his skin, held back by his magnificent durability. Josh tried to break the magical bonds. He tried to force his arms out and snap the strings, but they held firm.

Maechellion closed.

Arabella screamed his name, urging him to break free, pleading with Cassandra to do something. But the witch still stood outside, soaked by the rain, with Thadius, Vella, Elowen, and Dec fending off Hardacre's soldiers.

The sorcerer crouched next to Josh. “There's no need to hurry. Tell me, what did you do to my hero?”

“I caved his face in, then ran a sword through the length of his body.”

“This ring helped you?”

Josh didn't answer, grimacing as Maechellion twisted his hands and tightened the magic. “It's mine. It'll never be yours!” Josh spat.

“Oh, but artifacts always search out the most powerful. They use us like ladders, seeking out the strongest so that they might climb to new heights. Do you think you're stronger than me, a sorcerer that walks time as you stroll down a path?”

“I'm just as old as you.” Josh strained at the magic, focusing on freeing one arm.

“I am thousands of years old!” He cackled. “Thousands.”

“A bit older, then,” Josh said through gritted teeth. “But you haven't aged well. Your breath smells like a fisherman's boots, and your nails—man! What's up with them?”

“You have no chance against me.”

“That's where you're wrong!” Josh said, finally snapping one of the magical ties.

He grabbed Maechellion by the neck, squeezing as hard as he could. The sorcerer muttered a few words, casting Josh's hand off with a casual wave.

“Really? Is that the best you've got?” Maechellion asked.

The chamber lurched to one side. The sorcerer lost his grip, sliding toward the firepit. Josh slid after him, still wrapped in magic. He pulled his legs up, launching a double-footed kick at the sorcerer. A satisfying bone crunch followed as he crashed into Maechellion.

“That's the best I've got,” he said, wishing he hadn't near enough straight away. He struggled against the magic, calling on the ring to help him, but either it couldn't or wouldn't.

Machellion staggered up, holding on to the firepit as the colossus lurched the other way. “Enough!” he cried. “Enough of this!” His power radiating out, wisps of black smoke dancing on his skin.

The colossus righted, seemingly back under Maechellion's control. “Time for you to die, Hero!”

“No!” Arabella cried, struggling futilely at her chains.

Maechellion strode toward Josh, grabbing his hand, slapping it on the firepit's wall, and splaying his fingers. “This ring is mine!” The sorcerer held the knife across Josh's fingers, slicing, then slicing again.

“Think you'll find my fingers are quite tough, Old Man,” Josh said.

Maechellion lifted the blade, bringing it down on Josh's hand. “No!” he screamed as the knife barely broke the skin.

“I think it's soulbound, too,” Josh said, immediately realizing his error. “Just a rumor.”

“Then you die, Hero.”

Maechellion pulled back his hands, raising them above his head. “Die!” he screamed, then thrust his magic at Josh.

The colossus lurched backward. Josh fell, lurching around the firepit, sliding straight toward Arabella. Maechellion overbalanced, tripped, and fell into the firepit, his screams filling the chamber as the flames licked at his hair and beard. He rolled out, tumbling across the floor, snuffing out the fire, then slamming into Arabella and Josh.

The magical bonds vanished, freeing Josh. He scrambled up, faster to react than the aged sorcerer, and launched a kick at his fragile body. The colossus lurched again before the kick even landed, sending Josh tumbling the other way and crashing into the magical projection.

“It's going over!” he cried, desperately searching for something to grab hold of as the giant stone statue swayed the other way.

Using the slope, he raced to Arabella, grabbing her chains and hanging on for dear life. Maechellion was tossed across the room like a rag doll as the Elriman Man finally overbalanced and crashed to the ground.

The stone exploded, great shards flying everywhere. Josh covered Arabella's body, huge rocks thumping onto his back, legs, and arms. He tensed, wanting to cry out, to tell Arabella he loved her, and say he was sorry. Water gushed around them, filling the broken chamber and dousing the fire, steam rising. The rain stopped, clouds vanishing, replaced by a star-filled sky.

“No! No! No!” Maechellion cried, rising from the receding water, his face like thunder. “The ring! I must have that ring.” He thrashed around. “My staff? Where's my staff?”

Josh rose, pulling at Arabella's chains, snapping the links, and freeing her. “Go! Go! Get out of here!” he cried.

“But you—”

“Just go. I have to end this.” Josh picked up a massive lump of rock, ran at Maechellion, and hurled it at the sorcerer.

Maechellion ducked behind a lump of forearm, muttering his incantations. Josh swerved, knowing a spell would come his way. He dove between two boulders just as red magic exploded where he'd stood.

“You might as well give up, Maechellion. We've got you surrounded,” Josh shouted. It was corny, but worth a shot, he thought.

Maechellion laughed. “I have more power in my little finger than you've got in your entire body, ring or no ring!”

Josh used his sphere of perception to track the sorcerer's magic. “As maybe, but everyone knows a wizard is vulnerable when drawn into the melee. Not sure if you've noticed, but your huge advantage has just crumbled into a thousand pieces.” He ran as soon as he'd finished, arcing around, wading in the shallow water and slipping on the sodden mud. A red flash lit up the sky—Maechellion's strike missing Josh by some distance.

“Don't use up all your power,” Josh said, darting away, slowly working his way behind the sorcerer.

“I will end you and this right now,” Maechellion said.

Josh felt a tangible change in the air. It grew noticeably heavier as the sorcerer's chants grew louder. Buzzing filled his ears like static from dead space. Mauve warnings flashed in his mind's eye as Machellion's power grew.

“Oh, no you don't,” Cassandra said, walking through the ruins. “You do not steal my power and then use it to try and kill my man. That is just plain rude.”

A stark white aura surrounded her, growing in intensity until Josh could feel heat radiating from her. She pointed at the sorcerer, but rather than send a bolt of magic to him, she drew his magic into her, sucking his power. Maechellion tried to break the contact, but she pulled at him, tugging at their arcane bond with such spite that she ripped the magic from him.

“I learned that from you! Here’s a lesson in return. Touch me or any of mine, old man, and you pay the ultimate price!”

Josh stepped out from behind a piece of the colossus' leg. He hefted a huge rock above his head. “Allow me. Just in case you give him power rather than destroy him.”

“No!” Maechellion cried, but he was already a decrepit, powerless old man.

“Can't have you living and sucking the life out of anything that crosses your path,” Josh said. “That's how you did it, isn't it? That's how you rose from the dead. You've been feeding off all of Elrima, chaining them to these ruins in the hope of a big payday, then sucking them dry. Well, it's over with now.” He tossed the boulder up. Maechellion tried to move, but Cassandra sent a bolt of magic swirling around him, holding him in place as the boulder dropped and crushed him.

“I think you'd best make sure,” Josh said, looking down at the mush around the rock.

“Make sure? He's flatter than Ma Cooper's bread.”

“Still, suck any trace of life from him. We don't want him growing back in a thousand years.”

Cassandra muttered her spell, drawing every ounce of power from the rock until both the rock and the wizard under it turned to dust.

“Arabella?” Josh called.

“Over here!” Arabella called back.

She sat against a rock, Vella with her.

“Have healed,” said Vella. “You need?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Lucky. Running out. Very tired now.” Vella held her hand to her forehead. Her eyes rolled around, and she fell backward onto the mud.

“Is she sleeping?” Josh asked.

“She’s snoring, so I think so.”

“I think she’s cute,” Cassandra said. “Can we keep her?”

Josh grinned. “Working on it.”

Chapter Forty-Three

“SMEEKS!” Josh said as he walked up to the sheriff, his arms open wide.

Smeeks stood at the counter, his hands splayed and back to all the celebrating villagers. “Is that you, Underwood?”

“It is.”

Smeeks turned. “Well, I’m glad to see you made it. My men reported the colossus toppled, the ruins leveled, and the sorcerer vanquished. It seems you have both saved and condemned my village in one night.”

Josh drew beside him. “Are you really going back to that tough man act?”

He smirked. “Honestly? I think so. It is much easier being alone and not caring what happens to others.”

“How about starting tomorrow? We could celebrate tonight. Besides, I haven’t heard your story.”

A sparkle glazed Smeeks’ eye. “It’s a fine story, although not as fine as yours, I imagine.”

“Then why don’t you join us? We’ve set up some tables in the garden—even persuaded the elves to come. Seeing as they’re your neighbors, it would do you good to meet them.”

“Just one night?”

“One,” Josh assured him.

“I can go back to being a bastard in the morning?”

“First light.”

Smeeks slapped the counter. “Why not then? Dec! Steaks and ale for all in the garden.”

“Who’s paying?” Dec asked.

Smeeks screwed up his face. “You any good with figures?”

“Tallied this place for years.”

“Then you can pay. I name you the new arbiter. You can live in that house Turnic called home—too big for me. Steaks! Ale! Tonight, we celebrate!”

“Well, spill,” Arabella said, her arm around Josh. “What happened here?”

“Nothing quite as incredible as what happened at the ruins,” Smeeks said. “Quite dour, if I say so myself. I returned, leaving you with the elves, and snuck into the village through a trapdoor in the fence by the river. I was creeping along the path when Carl whistled at me from his barn’s roof. He signaled me inside, where I found the remnants of my men gathered. I filled them in on everything that had happened—the cultists, the new temple, Calico’s demise—everything, and they told me how Hardacre had taken over the village, stationed men at Turnic’s, the watchtower, and the tavern. He’d put a twenty-four-hour curfew in place, telling all that monsters and wolves were abroad.”

“So, Carl is alive?” Thadius said. “I’ve not seen him.”

“He’s ridden to Eldorwyn. We decided that the odds of us winning were small and that if a power like Maechellion’s were to rise in the south, then the king should know about it as soon as possible. I sent a note with him to the effect that Calico had betrayed the king and attempted to kill you and Arabella. I noted all parties who had fought against the insurrection.”

“I knew that boy would go far,” Thadius said, a smile hatching. “He’ll be in Seymour’s court before the week’s out. He was always out of place here—far too good at what he did for a village at the ass-end of nowhere.”

Smeeks coughed.

“No offense, Smeeks. Continue with your story.”

Smeeks took a draft of his ale. “So, with Carl gone and Hardacre headed for the ruins with most of the men, I was left with an even shot at retaking the village. I waited for nightfall, then attacked.” He shrugged. “I’ll be honest, the battle was over pretty quickly. The men Hardacre had left behind were his worst. We tried to ride out to the ruins, but Helleron’s men assumed we were the enemy and did their damnest to kill us. It was only a niggling feeling in the back of my mind that stopped us from getting slaughtered. We’d all assumed that only Hardacre’s men would reinforce.”

“An oversight on my part,” Josh said. “If we have the issue again, we’ll arrange a signal.”

“If we have the issue again, I’m taking the note to Seymour,” Smeeks assured him. “So, I’ve heard how your battles went. What about our friends from the hills?” Smeeks turned his attention to Helleron.

The elf pushed his braids back. “His men were no match for us. We had the advantage of night. Our aim was sure, and our instinct in the dark is stronger than the human. The outcome was never in doubt.”

“Modesty, I take it, is a rare commodity in an elf,” Smeeks observed.

Helleron shrugged. “We did our part.” He nodded at Cassandra. “The sorceress was the difference: her and the Ringbearer. Without them, we’d all be under the cult’s yoke.” He stood. “You, Cassandra of Elrima, Witch of the South, and you, Josh of Underwood, Ringbearer, I would invite you to Elarathon. Simmalion would like to meet you again, but under happier circumstances.” He bowed and sat, whispering to the elf sitting beside him, his gaze falling on Josh.

Arabella nudged him. “Where’s Vella?”

“Back over the bridge—she exhausted herself. You know their land. Is Elarathon their settlement?”

“Not so much a settlement as a forest, but it does have a central walkway and a large meeting area in the middle. I guess that’s Elarathon,” she replied,

“What was it like on the outside among the ruins?” Josh asked Cassandra. “I saw you on the screen, but could hardly see the others.”

“Thadius, Elowen, and Dec fought off Hardacre’s men, although hardly any of them attacked us. You were right. The elves drew them out. I think I understand what Maechellion was up to. He had to draw incredible amounts of power into him just to reignite his body. I think the murders were the start. That gave him enough to release the necrotic wolves. They were supposed to keep slaughtering and maintain his growth. When we killed them, Hardacre had to move up his plans. He had Calico kidnap Thadius and Arabella, knowing you’d follow. Whatever happened, he’d win. If you killed them all, he took their power via the ley lines. If they killed you, then he had that boost. Different folk have different vitality. He received a huge amount from Calico because the man teemed with the stuff. Turnic would have given him another. Trouble was, once he’d started, he had no choice but to complete the ritual and revive himself enough that he could perpetuate.”

“So, he had one shot?” Josh asked.

“Yeah, and we came along,” Cassandra grinned, draping her arm over him. “So, when are we getting the reward for monster hunting?”

Smeeks raised his eyebrows, then looked over Thadius’ head. “If you present the contract to my new arbiter, I’m sure he’ll honor it in due course. I believe the coffers are empty at the moment. It seems that the cultists had a thirst for our silver. Here are the steaks.”

“Don’t try and change the subject! They stole all the taxes?”

“They stripped Turnic’s house of everything. It should be around here somewhere. After all, they all died.”

Thadius’ face clouded with anger. “Yet you can find no trace of it?”

“None.”

“What is it, Dad?” Arabella asked.

“It’s something,” Thadius said. “Something that is bothering me. Just—” He scanned the table. “No, it’s nothing, nothing at all. I’m wrong. I must be wrong.” He sighed.

“And Turnic’s wagons—we need them. I presume he still has his wagons here,” Josh added.

“I believe one is here. I think Carl took the big one,” Smeeks said.

Thadius closed his eyes. “Really? Tell me, Smeeks, why would a man need a horse and cart to transport a message to Eldorwyn? Was it the same wagon that transported the taxes?”

Smeeks held his head in his hands. “Yes.”

Thadius cleared his throat. “Well, fortunately for us, I had already gotten our compensation from Turnic before everything went to crap. It’s one of the things one learns from years of service.”

“What’s up?” Josh asked Elowen, finding her leaning on the bridge and looking into the river below.

She flinched, surprised by his approach. “Nothing,” she said, snatching at the word.

“Something,” he said, leaning on the parapet. “Come inside. The steak was nice. I can get another cooked. Smeeks owes us that much, at least.”

“I guess.” She spun around, resting her elbows and looking up. “It’s not far off morning.”

“Nope. I’m guessing we’ll have plenty of time to sleep, though. It’s not every day you foil a plot to take over a kingdom.”

“My tent’s ruined. My books are all gone. Every coin I had has been stolen. My horse has vanished—my wagon destroyed by Cassandra’s magic.”

A tear snaked down her cheek. Josh turned, putting his arm around her. “I had nothing at all when I met Arabella and Thadius. Yeah, we have our bounty, but I have so much more than I had. You know our dream, don’t you?”

“The wagons, the monster hunting—going from village to village.”

Josh jerked, jumping back then grabbing her. “We know where they come from—we found out where the monsters come from, didn’t we?”

“What do you mean? We found out nothing,” Elowen said, a glimmer of excitement battling her melancholy.

“Maechellion summoned the necrotic wolves—yes?”

“He did.”

“Where from?”

“Wherever his spell pulls them from, I guess.”

“Don’t you see? He pulls them from another place. It could be a portal to another land. It could be another dimension, but they come from somewhere. So, if a spell can pull a beast from another dimension, what’s to say that sometimes a tear in the fabric of this land—a distortion in its reality—doesn’t allow a monster to pass through?”

“We still don’t know where from,” she said.

“No!” Josh said. “But we know they come from somewhere, and we have the most powerful magician in all of Mythelore. If you come with us, we can figure this out together.”

“I never saw myself as a monster hunter. I’m an academic, Josh. This was an assignment for me. Once done, I was supposed to go back to my college—my chapter and report back. I would write a paper on it—present it to the board and get a pat on the back. It’s what we like. People we think are more intelligent than us telling us how good we are.” She sniffed. “Pathetic, isn’t it?”

“I can give you pats on the back if you want.” He smiled; his grin infectious.

She returned it, cuffing away the tears. “A life on the road, or a nice comfortable room with shelves stacked with books and an open fire.”

“How about a grand caravan and a cubbyhole for a few books?”

“You haven’t even got a copper shaving to your name.”

“No, but I’ve got plans—big plans. And Arabella’s coming—she’s going to be the ranged attack. Cassandra is our sorceress. I’m hoping Vella will be our healer. Then we’re going to see someone somewhere—I can’t remember who or what the place was called. Hopefully, she’ll be our alchemist.”

Elowen stared up at him. “You’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you? The trouble is, I don’t want to die. It scares me. And I nearly did die—I was nearly burned alive. I’m scared of that, Josh—terrified.”

He sagged. “I get it.”

“You would have died,” Thadius said, strolling up to them. “You would have died if we hadn’t met Josh on that road at the beginning of all this. Use your head, Elowen. It’s what you’re good at. If we hadn’t had Josh, what would have happened to you when Calico, Hardacre, and Maechelion showed themselves? You’ll come to the same conclusion I have. Trust me, being burned alive would have been preferable.” He clapped his hands. “Josh, we leave at sunup for the elven lands. You don’t keep elves waiting, and nor do you keep wives waiting. Arabella and Cassandra have retired to the loft room. I suggest you try and get a little sleep.”

“Will you be okay?” Josh asked her.

“She will come to the same conclusion I have,” Thadius said.

“What’s that?”

“That the safest place in this land is by your and Cassandra’s side.”

Josh lay on the bed. Cassandra slept on one side of him. Arabella slept on the other. Two naked women—two gorgeous, naked women in his bed together for the first time, and they were sleeping. True, they’d made a pact that the first time they all got to make love to each other as a threesome should be special. And yes, going to bed filthy from battle, dog tired, and the prospect of waking in a couple of hours hanging over their heads didn’t qualify. So, okay, the fact that they’d all agreed to get an hour or so’s sleep was the correct choice. But still! Try telling that to his boner. It stood up, shrouded in a sheet, glaring at him, and he couldn’t blame it.

There was absolutely no chance of him getting a wink of sleep. It throbbed like a broken toe—twitched like a hamster on an expresso binge. Still, frustration aside, his new life hadn’t gone too badly. He had a great friend in Thadius—his mentor and two beautiful wives in Arabella and Cassandra. He was OP. He’d played enough games back on the Lincato to last a lifetime, and if he’d dreamed of being any hero, it was always an overpowered one, which reminded him that he hadn’t checked his notifications. He’d received one when Vella had renewed him after the Hardacre fight and another when he’d gobbled his steak.

He pulled up the first. He’d gained another three points—not bad, but nothing stunning.

He guessed he’d got the durability for grabbing Hardacre’s sword and the arcane resistance for enduring the Maechellion’s attacks as he climbed the colossus. The combat instinct probably had something to do with his abysmal planning, but then, he’d not trained for attacking a stone sentinel with a hostile magician inside, so he wouldn’t beat himself up about it. He moved on to the next notification. He’d got four points for the battle with Maechellion. Not too shabby, he thought as the voice read out his final stats.

New Score =

Strength = 11

Speed and Agility = 11

Durability = 24

Combat instinct = 15

Arcane resistance = 23

Average = 16.8

He yawned. Strength? Perhaps—he could have picked up a bigger rock. Speed and agility, maybe. He was still convinced the stronger stats pulled his weaker ones along. If he’d found a cheat with arcane resistance, there’d be one for the others. He’d get stronger. He had to. He had his family to protect.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Going through his stats had bored his hard-on into submission. His cock was finally asleep. He yawned, stretched, and closed his eyes. Just as he was dropping off, the hatchway opened, and Elowen climbed in.

She set her lantern down. “Are you awake, Josh?”

“Yeah, you okay?”

“Better than ever. I’ve decided to join you if you’ll still have me.”

“Of course.”

“Thing is, I’ve got nowhere to sleep. Could I scrunch up next to Arabella?”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

She took off her glasses, then pulled her tunic over her head. She grinned at him as she stood before him, completely naked. Everything about her was perfect, right down to the thin strip of hair that pointed straight at her pussy. “I think I’d like to become a full partner, too. I’ll ask Arabella in the morning.” She turned and bent low, showing him her beautiful butt, and she blew out the lantern, scooching into bed beside Arabella.

“Sleep well, Josh.”

He looked at his growing erection, framed by the moonlight, twitching like a cat following a laser pointer.

“For fuck’s sake!”

End of Book 1

Monsters Mayhem & Misfits 2

A LitRPG Fantasy

Chapter One

“WE ALL STINK,” Josh announced as they trundled toward the ruins of Elrima.

“I do not,” Thadius said.

The old man sat upon the cart’s bench, having claimed the driver’s seat as if it were his wagon. Josh sat beside him, with Arabella, Elowen and Cassandra in the back. It was a fresh, pleasant morning, and the sun’s bright rays warmed them all. Despite Thadius’ denial, they did stink.

There was a good reason for their disheveled state. They had spent previous days defeating an evil insurrection planned over millennia. The sorcerer, Maechellion, had harvested enough power to regain his form and take over the famous stone colossus, Elriman Man. He’d planned on wreaking havoc with his magical influence.

Many had fallen by the way. The kingsman and monster slayer, Calico Rayne, had been unmasked as one of Maechelion’s trusted few and slain at the cultist temple of New Elrima. Turnic, the borough’s arbiter, had been sacrificed to fuel the evil sorcerer’s revival, one of many innocent bystanders—if innocent meant swindling shyster. Hardacre, Turnic’s supposed faithful bodyguard, had died at Josh’s hand as he’d defended his true master, Maechelion.

Good had triumphed. Josh, Cassandra, Smeeks and Dec had wiped out a whole bunch of cultists at New Elrima while rescuing Thadius and Elowen. Then, in a later battle, Smeeks had retaken the village of Elrima, while Helleron and the elves had routed Hardacre’s army. Thadius, Elowen and Dec had fought off the remaining cultists while Cassandra had brought the colossus crashing down. Josh had been inside the stone giant at the time, fighting Maechelion with sporadic help from an elven healer called Vella. In a final culmination among the ruins of the toppled colossus, Josh and Cassandra teamed up and defeated the evil wizard, reducing him to dust and consigning him to history.

The celebrations had nearly gone on all night, and after stealing a few moment's sleep, Thadius had roused them. They were to meet Simmalion at the elven settlement of Elarathon. Quite why the elven sorceress wished to see them was a mystery.

Sorceress was, of course, not quite the proper term, as Simmalion’s power had vanished the day Cassandra was born. The witch had been a harmonic—a sorceress capable of commanding all aspects of the land’s magic, and there could only be one in the Mythelore. Simmalion had passed that metaphorical baton to Cassandra. She had also gifted the witch the Everdeep staff, an artifact Cassandra had yet to master.

The reason they traveled to the ruins was simple. They had one wagon, which belonged to Thadius. How he had kept hold of it in all the chaos of the previous days was a matter of debate. Had Cassandra offered an opinion, it would have revolved around luck. Thadius’ wagon had survived Cassandra’s rumbling magic that split the land apart and threw up boulders and rock shards. It had been unaffected by the deluge she’d called from the heavens to destabilize the colossus and bring it crashing to the ground. It had, in his own words, “Been parked correctly.”

“My dear,” he’d said piously, “one should always park away from the likely field of conflict. One doesn’t roll up and jump out like a band of brigands. I selected my spot carefully and then hobbled Buttercup and joined the fray. It only takes a few moments to do things correctly.”

Cassandra had survived as an outcast since the tender age of six. She’d never had a father figure and didn’t particularly have an idea how to take Thadius’ admonishment. So, she’d said the first thing that had come into her mind.

“Talk to me like I’m a dick, and I’ll take my new elven staff and shove it right up your tight old ass jewel first, got it?”

Which was, in theory, no way to talk to her father-in-law. Although whether he was her father-in-law was a topic Josh hadn’t discussed with his new wife Arabella—Thadius’ daughter.

Josh had recently dropped to the land, having escaped a Grillon attack. He’d fallen through a temporal wormhole, traveled one hundred-and-eighty-six years to drop to Mythelore and be attacked by a worm—well, three in total. There, he’d discovered that the alien tech on his finger gave him tremendous power over any other in Mythelore. It enhanced his strength, speed and agility, durability, combat instinct and arcane resistance, which was handy. It also gave him a sphere of perception that warned him of incoming physical, magical and poison attacks.

He had slowly come to terms with that, reveling in the knowledge that he was gradually becoming overpowered. Josh was also coming to terms with the slightly odd relationships that were the norm in Mythelore. It wasn’t unusual; in fact, it was encouraged, for an influential person to take more than one partner.

Arabella had captured Josh’s heart from the first moment he’d set eyes on her. Fortunately, the feeling had been mutual, and they’d soon got together. What had been unusual was that Arabella had actively encouraged him to pursue other women just as long as they were a good fit. Along the way, Josh and Cassandra got together, consummating their love upon a rock bluff overlooking the Elriman ruins. Unbeknownst to them, Vella, a beautiful elven healer, had watched.

So, in theory, Cassandra was in a relationship with Arabella and Josh, and therefore was some in-law type relation to Thadius, but quite what, Josh didn’t know. Either way, he had two beautiful wives, with a third hurtling toward him.

Elowen was Arabella’s best friend and Thadius’ daughter by default of care. They’d raised Elowen when her father had died during a monster takedown, and Arabella had often gone without nice things to fund Elowen’s education. While Elowen wasn’t suited to monster hunting, circumstance had conspired and pushed them together. She’d agreed to join them and wanted to share Josh’s bed, which was dandy as far as Josh was concerned. The word harem was being bandied around, and with good reason, although he’d yet to have anything more than a twosome.

Everything in Mythelore worked to a set of rules called The Code. If a woman joined Josh’s harem, she was off-limits to all other men. It ratified it in a way similar to Josh’s idea of marriage. If he was honest, he couldn’t be happier. The alien ring filled him with vitality—with a lust for life and everything about it. His sex drive was off the charts, one of the main reasons they needed more than one wagon. He wasn’t about to go touring the land with his women if he couldn’t get a bit of privacy. Besides, Thadius snored.

Josh had a vision. He’d played many games in his previous life. Some had involved forming parties to take down monsters. Those groups always consisted of a tank, a wizard, a healer, melee and ranged, which he wanted to replicate in Mythelore. His grand vision was a caravan of monster hunters roaming the country doing great things, taking down terrible monsters and righting wrongs. It was a fantastic, if a little naive, plan.

Things weren’t idyllic in Mythelore, but Josh had already accepted that. There was no such thing as utopia. But then, as his gaze wandered into the back, over Arabella, Cassandra and Elowen, he had to admit, it was pretty damn close. All three were beauties, and he couldn’t help but imagine them writhing together in bed.

“Is that your wagon over there?” Thadius asked, pulling up close to the ruins.

There wasn’t much left of the ruins. Cassandra, caught up in the moment and determined to end the cult once and for all, had flattened them all using geomancy—just one of the magical branches she commanded.

“I believe so,” she replied stiffly, knowing what was coming next.

“Terrible parking,” he said, driving his point home.

She flicked him a glare, and Thadius flinched. The extent of her power was unknown. “Don’t push me, old man.”

He sent back a withering smile. “Merely attempting to educate you. If we are to fight monsters, it is best to keep our possessions away from the field of conflict. If we don’t, we’ll find ourselves in this position over and over.”

“Noted,” she said and marched off toward the wagon.

“I think we’re early enough,” Thadius said with a long exhalation.

“For what?” Josh asked.

“It was chaos last night. The magic, the fighting, everything, would have scared the peddlers and adventurers away. If any of Elowen’s possessions survived, we can still retrieve them.” He pulled his wagon close to a boulder, hobbling Buttercup and striding away. “Come, girls! Let’s see what we can find.”

Josh ambled after Cassandra, who was busily inspecting her wagon. It jutted from the ground, half buried along a diagonal from one corner to another. He pursed his lips. “Look’s a little fucked,” he said, using space terminology for beyond salvage.

“Is he always like that? Is he always so condescending?” she asked.

“Thadius? He’s an old man. Doesn’t matter what universe you come from. Dads be dads. He’ll offer advice when you don’t want it, stay quiet when you do, and tell god-awful jokes. It’s what dads do.”

“Oh,” she said, examining the wagon’s axle.

“If it bugs you, I can have a word.”

“Don’t!” she snapped. “I think we could be okay.” She planted the Everdeep staff and stood up straight. “Don’t you dare.”

“But if you don’t like it?”

“I don’t think I’m supposed to like it. I don’t know. I never had a father.”

“Then?” Confusion gripped Josh.

“He cares enough to tell me stuff. It annoys the hell out of me, but—” She crouched, scratching at the soil.

“But?”

“But it gives me a warm feeling inside. I’ve never had that before. I think it might be this whole family thing. It always confused me.” She stood. “Yep, definitely fixable.”

“What confused you? Perhaps I can help.”

“Not sure you understand it either. It’s the whole thing where a family argues and fights but loves each other at the same time. It’s odd, weird, and illogical.” She looked up at him. “But you know what? I want to understand it. I want to be a part of it.” She stepped back, focusing on the cart. The ground around it parted, yawning and cracking. “I think I might be good at it.”

She thrust her hand out, banging the staff on the ground as the emerald jewel atop it glowed. The wagon rose, mud and stones falling from it. She moved the staff around, and the wagon floated up, following the staff’s path until she set it down. “Now, where are all my possessions?”

Josh’s jaw dropped as Cassandra snapped her fingers, held her hand out, palm raised, and beckoned her possessions to come to her. They rose, some breaking free of the ground, all floating toward them, then dropping into her wagon in neat and orderly piles.

“There,” she said, “all tidied up.”

“You’ll need a horse. Where’s yours gone?”

“Him? He won’t come where we’re going. He’s got a few fillies around here, and it’s nearly foaling time. No, I think I shall have to get Arabus to pull us. He likes seeing new places, plus, he’ll make a damn fine lookout.”

“And just what is Arabus?”

“He is a Roc.”

“A what?”

“Imagine an eagle, but much larger—much, much larger. Shall we go help Arabella?”

“You’re enjoying having all this power, aren’t you?”

They marched over the ruin’s remnants. “Oh yes,” she said. “Very affirming. Gives a girl confidence knowing she can turn a man to pulp just by blinking.”

“Can you?” Josh asked, a little shocked.

“Not yet.” She smirked. “But one day. Is that Elowen’s wagon?”

“What’s left of it.”

“She will have to share mine. Must learn to park, that girl. Must learn to park.”

“We can hardly maintain a low profile with that thing,” Thadius said.

“My hat?” Cassandra asked. “What’s wrong with it? Josh picked it. Besides, I like hats, and there’s nothing quite so cliched as a witch with a pointed hat. This one shows a little individuality.”

“It’s a great hat,” Arabella said.

Josh had to agree. The hat was tall but flat-topped rather than coming to a point. It looked like it had once been taller but had sagged like a soggy cake. Rather than detract from it, the crumpled look lent it a certain charm. It was black, naturally, with a silk turquoise scarf tied around it and a feather tucked in. “Makes you look quirky,” Josh said.

“See, quirky, Thadius. It makes me look quirky.”

Thadius blinked, sighed, and then levered a smile onto his face. “I’m not talking about your hat. I’m talking about the bloody great bird tethered to your wagon.”

“Arabus?”

The Roc was larger than Josh had expected. Easily the size of a horse, with wings that spanned twenty feet, Arabus was an impressive creature. He had a shock of turquoise plumage that crested his giant head and matched the ribbon wrapped around Cassandra’s quirky hat. His maroon plumage soaked in the morning sun, its matte luster contrasting with the shining gold of his beak and impressive talons. He looked a little put out by Thadius’s observations. His beady eyes glared at the old man.

“It—”

“He,” Cassandra corrected.

“He,” Thadius said, “will attract a lot of attention.”

“But surely that’s the point,” Elowen said. “Surely we want to attract attention.”

Thadius furrowed his eyebrows. “Pray tell, why would we want to attract attention?”

“I think I get it,” Josh said. “Imagine you’re a villager”—he shrugged— “or even a Lord. You’re living in fear of a giant beast none of your soldiers can kill. What would you rather come to your rescue? Two unshaven, gritty, moody old men with dirty clothes, bad breath and terrible attitudes, or”—he paused for dramatic effect— “Cassandra, with her obvious power, twelve-feet high bird, and cleavage that precedes her? Would you rather have Thadius Extrael, legendary monster slayer, ride into town atop a white charger, gleaming sword strapped to his back, white hair swept back over his royal blue cape? Would you rather someone who looked powerful or someone who looked like they might have head lice and a tiny chance of slaying the beast?”

“That is not how monster hunters go about their business. We are humble. We perform our craft without the need for fame.”

“No, those monster hunters skimp and scrape for their next meal. They cow tail to a Lord. Get robbed. Barely afford a night in the tavern.” Josh’s eyes were wide with excitement. “We are superheroes, Thadius. We kill monsters. We aren’t living like we haven’t got two copper shavings to rub together. So yes, we roll into town on a wagon drawn by a legendary beast and fill everyone’s hearts with hope.”

Arabella clapped her hands together. “I’m going to get so good with my bow,” she said. “I’m going to be a dead-eye. I need a name—a superhero name.”

“Arrowbella springs to mind,” Casandra said, then laughed at her own joke while everyone else remained silent. “Arrowbella? It’s good—come on!”

“As good as your parking,” said Thadius.

“And I shall have a wagon packed with books, a desk where I can interview folks and form a plan. I shall be the brains,” Elowen said.

“Well, Old Man, what’s it to be? Live like a tramp, or finally live up to your name, Thadius Extrael, Monster Slayer,” Cassandra asked.

Thadius inhaled. He grew in stature. “Say I go along with it. Say we do this. What’s to stop the Lord from taking our services and then reneging on the deal? You saw how fast their tax money vanished in Elrima.”

“That’s the beauty of it. We’re the best,” Josh said. “We look the best. The job is done as soon as we take the commission. So, we ask for half up front. If they don’t pay, we turn around and leave town.”

“But that will leave the monster alive.”

Cassandra pointed her Everdeep staff at him. “Thadius Extrael doesn’t work for free. You don’t pay, we don’t slay—you got it?”

He grinned. “I got it.”

Arabella clapped. “No pay. No slay! I like it.”

Chapter Two

THE BROAD RIVER BURBLED BY, shimmering like a thousand sequins stitched its surface. Reeds lined its sides, broken only by the occasional inlet carved through time by thirsty animals. Josh stood at one, pausing before going in. “You should have let me go in first, so we can be completely sure the water is safe.”

“Safe?” Elowen asked.

She was naked again, washing yesterday’s blood and guts away, cleansing herself of her incarceration at the hands of the cultists. Josh wanted nothing more than to join her, especially as Cassandra and Arabella splashed and chased each other in the middle of the river. It was a flesh fest, but there were leeches to consider as it was close to where they had attacked him, nearly ending his new life before it had truly begun.

“Take those stinking clothes off and get in. You can’t meet the elves like that,” Arabella called over.

It was true, of course. Only Thadius and Arabella had ever visited the elves, yet Simmalion had invited them all to the elven settlement of Elarathon. Josh had to look his best if he was to have a chance of enticing Vella to join them, and they needed a healer.

He was going to keep talking as he enjoyed the view of three breathtakingly beautiful women bathing in the river, but words were difficult because of the same sight. “Umm… so no leaches?”

Elowen’s breasts glistened with wetness. Her cheeks flushed as he looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her pubic runway, wondering what it would be like to taste her sex. She was magnificent. There was no other word to describe her. “You’re staring,” she said.

“Yes,” he said. “You’re gorgeous.”

She inclined her head. “Don’t be so selfish but give me something in return. I haven’t seen you naked yet.”

Josh’s gaze flitted over the top of her. Arabella and Cassandra were washing each other’s hair. His heart skipped a beat, his breath fled his lungs, and his erection grew. “Best run, because I’m coming to get you!” he shouted.

“Catch me quick,” she said, running further into the river.

He sloughed his pants off, pulled his shirt over his head, and chased her into the deeper water. Elowen fell with a mighty splash. Josh leaped for her, grabbing her ankles and pulling her to him. She twisted and turned, giggling, slapping him away, but he didn’t let go. He pulled her into his embrace until they faced each other, both breathing heavily. His erection pressed into her, but she didn’t pull away.

“Caught you,” he said.

“You caught me a little while ago,” she replied. “Now, close your eyes and pucker those lips. I still haven’t thanked you for saving my life.”

“You got it,” he said, following her instructions.

“You ready?” she asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said.

She shoved him, kicking out and splashing, then vanishing under the water and swimming away. He sighed. She wasn’t his yet, but it was getting damn close. “I’ll get you back for that, Elowen!” he called after her as she surfaced by the other girls.

“You’re not allowed to get me until Arabella says so,” she shouted back, poking her tongue out.

Technically, that was wrong, but there was a code the land lived by. Arabella was his first wife. She could influence who joined their harem. He pursed his lips—harem, yes, it was a harem. The Code made sense. Theirs was the founding partnership. Any other joining had to fit in with both of them, not just one or the other. While Josh had the ultimate say, it was easier if both of them kept the harem’s wheels greased.

Josh had never had any kind of multiple love before coming to Mythelore. He’d had relationships, one so serious that when she’d suddenly died, he’d taken a commission on a space barge just to escape life. He hadn’t quite expected to escape a couple of hundred years into the future and land in an entirely different universe. But he had to admit that since the term starting over had been invented, he doubted anyone had done it so well.

Elowen beckoned him over. “Come on, I get to wash you.” She held up a big slab of soap. “You need to smell good for Vella.” She squealed the elf’s name, making his infatuation for the elf sound pathetic.

“Josh loves Vella,” Arabella and Cassandra said, both dissolving into laughter.

“Is it always going to be like this?” he asked, wading to Elowen.

“Arms up,” she said.

“Like what?” Cassandra asked, closing.

“Yeah, like what?” Arabella asked.

“You three ganging up on me.”

“You’re going to learn to love it,” Cassandra said, diving away and giving Josh an eyeful as she slipped into the water.

Elowen began scrubbing him, starting with his back, shoulders, and chest, then straying lower. “Legs apart,” she said. “Got to get you clean from head to toe.”

Josh closed his eyes, trying desperately to hold his erection at bay. “This is punishment for something bad I’ve done in my past life, isn’t it?”

“Punishment?” she asked. “Aren’t you enjoying it?” She scrubbed his fattening cock. “Yeah, you’re enjoying it.”

“There’s good punishment and bad.”

“What’s this?” she asked, soaping his balls.

“Yeah, it’s good alright. The best.”

Elowen looked up. “What if I told you that me and Arabella reached an agreement this morning? Well, technically, a few days ago, but we’ve been busy since then.”

“Well, I haven’t asked you yet, so technically, my dick’s off-limits to you.”

“You want me to stop?”

“I never said that.”

“So…”

She squeezed his dick. “You and me?”

He dropped onto one knee, holding her hand. “Elowen, would you like to join my harem?”

“Yes,” she squealed. Then swooned, a blush spreading. “Well, I never saw that coming.”

“Liar!” shouted Arabella, wading over and giving her a big hug.

“Welcome to the family,” said Cassandra, joining in.

“Can we hurry it along?” Thadius shouted from the back, his back turned but presence still overbearing. “The elves won’t wait all day.”

“Don’t be such a grump!” Cassandra shouted back.

“Won’t be long,” Arabella cried as Thadius huffed and walked away.

Elowen drew away from the other girls and handed Josh the soap. “Your turn,” she said, holding her arms up. “Don’t focus too hard on my boobs. They take the same amount of scrubbing that every other part of me does.”

“The same amount?” Josh said. “I’ve never heard such rubbish in all my life.”

Arabus was a majestic beast. He flew with grace belying his size, drawing Cassandra’s wagon smoothly along as he navigated the switchbacks like a horse. Whether a steep climb or a flat road, it didn’t bother the bird. He kept up a steady pace, no matter what.

“How long have you known Arabus?” Josh asked her.

“Arabus? Since he was an egg. I found his mother at the bottom of the gorge. She’d flown too far north—no idea why. Rocs live in the Hangsane. They rarely venture into Mythelore.”

“So, how come she was here?”

Cassandra shrugged. “My guess is some beast or the other chased her out. She had a massive gash in her side. Poor thing was barely alive when I found her.” She smacked her lips together. “Her carcass fed Bruce for a week.”

Josh screwed up his face. “So, how did you get the egg?”

“The mother died, but I sensed life inside her, so I opened her up and pulled the egg out. I sat on that thing for a week before it hatched.”

“You sat on the egg?”

“Sure. Well, I didn’t sit on it the whole time. I took it to bed, too. Then, one day, Arabus pecked his way out. I reared him, and he’s been around ever since.”

“How come we never saw him when we visited?”

“He’s usually over by the mountains—doesn’t go much further. I think there’s something terrible lurking there.”

“Has he got any magical powers?”

Cassandra giggled. “Of course not, silly. He’s a bird.”

“Fair enough.”

They crossed the bridge, turning toward the elven lands.

“What did you think about my idea of a troupe rolling into town to save the day?” he asked.

“The truth? I absolutely fucking loved it. I’ve already got my wagon design in my head. Just need to get enough money to afford it.”

“What’s it like?”

“Thirty feet long, ten wide, a great big room atop it. It’ll be all black—perhaps some silver embossing. It will have a lookout tower, a chimney, and a bath, of course. Mostly the watchtower, though.”

“Naturally.”

“Which you can access from the inside—pop up and peek out, and shuttered windows for added privacy.”

“Thought about it a bit, then?”

“If we’re going to travel the land, I want to do it in style.” She shrugged. “It’s your fault, anyway. You planted the seed.”

“It’s a great dream. Only one problem that I can see. Sometimes, the roads won’t be good enough. Imagine getting stuck and trying to level it out.”

She looked around, hands on hips. “Hello!” she said, pointing at her face. “Sorcerer. Geomancer. Harmonic? Harmonic still sounds wrong, but I’ll roll with it. Hello! Harmonic!”

“You can—”

“Make the road wider, flatter, harder, whatever. I can have my cake and eat it because of you.”

“Because of me?”

“You made me, Josh Underwood. You made me what I am.” She kissed him on the cheek. “And I’ll always be in your debt because of it.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Cassandra. I’m really glad you joined my family.”

Silence fell between them, both consumed by their thoughts. Many things had changed for them, and they’d had no time to come to terms with it. He enjoyed the time reflecting, accepting his new reality that was as close to a dream as he could possibly imagine. Three hot girls aside, what amazed him the most was that he could be something.

He'd worn gray clothes during the last months of his old life aboard the Lincato. The ship was gray, too. Space might as well have been. The Lincato had no vast windows, no viewing screens. Those weakened the hull. They were unnecessary risks. So, space was gray static on a screen. Everything in Josh’s previous life was gray.

This place—Mythelore—had no gray. It burst with color and filled his heart with so much vitality that he doubted he could contain his enthusiasm for life. Ring aside—power aside—his new life was everything, and he could be everything, too.

The land changed as he was lost to his thoughts. The road turned inward, away from the gorge and deeper into the forest’s valleys and cuts. The trees aged. Their trunks grew fatter. Moss cloaked one side, spreading to the forest floor, blanketing white rocks. The forest’s canopy stretched in an orgy of vibrant green.

“When did the trees change?”

“Darling,” Cassandra said. “Elves don’t tolerate conifers. They are all-in on oaks, maple, and beech trees.”

“It’s quiet.”

“Peaceful. It’s peaceful. If elves can do one thing, it’s to maintain a balance. They allow predators—they allow everything to live, but they won’t have one overrun the other. It’s why they despise humans. We take over spaces, driving everything out.”

Josh shrugged. “I don’t quite sit with that. We change places, sure, but often for the better, not always for worse.”

“You really think that?”

“I’m not going to apologize for what I am. Humans are colonists. It’s what we do. Bees do it. Ants do it. Fuck ‘em if they think they’re superior because they have balance.” He whined the last word.

She held back her laugh, eventually giving up and blurting it out. “What a truly great way to look at it. No apology.”

“Hey,” he said. “I’m not saying we couldn’t do it better. Nor am I saying that Elrima didn’t stink. It’s important to understand the consequences of your actions. But the first step is to accept yourself. So, we’re going to be monster hunters. We accept that and get damn good at it. Then we’re humans making the world a better place.”

Cassandra yawned. “I’ll be honest. I’ve had enough of being ashamed of myself. The more they pilloried me for being a witch, the more I acted the part. The more extreme I became, the more they pushed me away. It was a never-ending cycle.”

“Well, ham it up as much as you want. You were the sexiest witch in town, and now you’re the horniest sorceress. Got it? You can be whoever you want to be, or you can just be you. I’m fine with whatever.”

She leaned over and kissed him.

“What was that for?”

“For you being you. You’ve done more for me—”

“Stop saying that. You and I are a partnership. We all are now. We’re each other’s number one priority. Number two, we’ve got to have fun.”

“Have fun,” Vella said, dropping from the trees and landing on the bench beside Josh.

“Fuck me sideways, Vella. You scared the shit out of me.” Josh held his heart.

“Scared shit.” She chuckled. Her earthy scent wafted over him, moss melding with oak. She wore her tiny green two-piece, barely covering her groin and chest. “Need heal?” she asked, leaning over him.

“No, I’m fine. How are you, Vella?”

“How am I?”

“Yes. How are you?”

“Oh, good grief,” said Cassandra. “What he’s trying to say is, who the fuck are you, Vella? What do you like? Have you got a boyfriend? Do you eat meat—both kinds? Who are you, Vella?”

“Elf,” she said. She cocked her head. “Elf who likes fun.”

Cassandra nudged him. He glared at her. “What?”

“Ask her what fun.”

“I knew that. What’s fun, Vella?”

“Like swinging through trees, swimming, healing—like healing, and caves—love caves. Don’t like grumpy. Like happy.”

“Then you’ll fit in perfectly. We like fun, don’t we, Cassandra?”

“This is hard work.” She feigned a smile. “Yes, we like fun. This is fun. So much fun.” She muttered some words and waved Josh and Vella away.

A gust picked them both up, shooting them into the air, flying over the forest for a fair while until their trajectory inevitably dropped. He cried out as they crashed through the trees, rolling along the moss-cloaked rocks and bouncing into a stream. After clearing his head, he sat up, Vella opposite him. “Did we just piss her off?”

“Think so,” Vella said, standing and looking around nervously.

“What’s wrong?”

“Think we flew a long way,” she said, then scrambled up a tree. “Yes, long way. We’re near Hangsane.”

Josh climbed the tree, seeing the great mountains looming over him. “But we’re still in elven territory, right?”

“Elves don’t go here.”

“Why not?”

“Monsters,” she said.

Josh climbed back down. “How many, exactly?”

“Lots.”

It wasn’t an exact figure, but it was close enough. He checked his sword, which was in the back of Thadius’ cart, then he sighed, bunched his fists, and smiled. “Back to the old faithfuls.”

“I heal you.”

“Fantastic. Which way?”

“Follow stream. Always follow stream.”

“Why are you smiling?”

She cocked her head. “This is fun.”

Chapter Three

THE RING HAD BLESSED Josh with intuitive hazard protection. It allowed him to passively monitor the land surrounding him for physical, magical and poison-based danger. If physical, his vision misted red. For magical, it was mauve, and poison was blue. As they set off along the stream, his mind’s eye was clear, so he could be sure no threat encroached.

Vella was a child in a woman’s body, or at least, that was how she acted. She skipped along, paddling in the stream rather than tackling the mossy rocks. Her long white hair framed her ample breasts that jiggled and bounced along with her jaunty steps. She’d bend and pick up a rock every so often, showing it to Josh like it was some cool gemstone.

“Rocks all different,” she said. “People different. Elves different. Rocks all different. Are you hungry?” Her ensuing smile was packed with innocence.

“Yes,” said Josh, still unable to quite fathom the elf. She was too skittish, like her focus could barely last a moment on any particular thing. “But why are you looking at them?”

She beckoned him closer. Josh stood at the water’s edge, but she pulled him in, dragging him down to a crouch and pointing. “See. All different, yet all the same. You, Arrabella, Elowen, Cassandra, Vella.”

“You’re trying to tell me we’re all the same?”

“But different, yes.” She placed her hand on his heart. “Renew.”

A warm feeling spread through him as she filled him with vitality. The forest came alive, the chitter of insects magnified, the rustle of the leaves intensified as a light breeze blew through them, and the folding burble of the stream chattered to him as it tumbled down its rocky bed.

“How do you do it?” Josh asked.

“Draw power from all around. Like sorcerer. Then push it to you. Power is like warmth from a fire—the heat of the sun. I take. I hold, and I give to you.”

“What do you call the power?”

“Vigor. It is the food that powers life. I gather vigor, then give vigor to you.” She reached and pressed her hand to his heart. “Here is your vigor. If it's full, you are well. Empty, you are dead. Get it?”

“So, you are packed full of vigor and therefore packed full of energy.”

“Yes.”

“And healing?”

“Healing same as magic. Have mana—mana is healing. Healing is mana.” She patted her head. “Mana in here. Healing is different. It is a spell—like a spell. It is a quickening. Understand?”

“Where does mana come from?”

“Everything—you, me, monsters, plants, trees—all living things.”

“So, healing is a spell, and a spell is powered by mana. You gather mana from all living things and store it in your head?”

“Yes.”

“And vigor is non-biological energy.” He hesitated, holding his hand up. “I mean, energy from the sun, the earth, the weather, that sort of thing. You collect that near your heart and can pass it straight to me?”

“Yes.”

“So, to make you more powerful, we have to work out how you can store more or harvest faster?”

“Yes,” she said.

“And if Cassandra can harvest mana faster, she becomes more powerful.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Cassandra is harmony. She has all the mana in all the land. She can call it, and it will come. Her power has no end.”

“So, in theory, she could fill you if you were empty?”

“Yes,” she said and stood, looking up. “Must go. Need to be home before dark.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him downstream. “Bad monsters sniff us out.”

Her pace was incredible, and Josh struggled to keep up. She tore ahead, jumping from one rock to the next, splashing into the stream, using the bank to make her turns. Josh adapted to her style; once more sure it was the ring mimicking something it deemed superior to Josh’s normal way.

They passed through magnificent glens, magical in every way, the sunlight slanting through the trees, dusted with a verdant hue. Fleeting warnings came, flashes of red, but they passed them quickly. But as Josh thought they might return to the elven lands without incident, everything became veiled in flashing red.

“Monster!” he cried, and Vella skidded to a halt.

“Where?” she asked, then gasped and pointed. “Amextrix Boar.”

“What?” Josh asked, but he didn’t need an answer.

The ground rumbled as the boar thundered down the stream toward them. It was a hulking behemoth, its matted fur as dark as night, tusks gleaming like obsidian blades, and its eyes burning with untamed fury. It threw up curtains of shimmering water, scattered them like sparkling crystals as it plowed through the shallow water.

Josh thought fast. “Quick! Up that tree. Heal me from there.”

“You come,” she said.

“I come, we’re both trapped. Get up—get up there now! I’ll think of something. Go! Save yourself!”

“Okay. But you come if boar too strong.”

He jumped across the stream, leaping onto a jutting rock, scanning around as he tried to find a weapon. The boar arced its run, aiming for Vella as she scrambled up the oak.

“Hold on, Vella. Hold on, it’s coming.” He picked up a rock, launching it at the beast. “Over here, fucker! Over here!” He tossed more rocks, using his call to arms and summoning his breastplate.

The boar thumped into the oak, the entire tree juddering. Vella slipped, nearly falling. Josh jumped off the bluff, splashing into the stream, reaching down and picking up another rock. He hurled it at the boar. “Over here.”

The creature froze, turning so slowly it gave fear time to root in Josh’s gut. The realization he had no weapon came crashing down on him. But his distraction had given Vella time to climb up to the tree’s first lateral branch. Not having to worry about her, he raced downstream a little, jumping onto a bigger boulder, hoping he could spy some advantage. The boar ran after him, carving through the water, soaking either bank. It lowered its head, intent on ramming the boulder, not caring it was solid rock. Josh waited until the boar committed, then leaped from the boulder, scrambling a dozen yards to another.

The beast hit the boulder with frightening force, rolling two or three feet, squashing its body as it twisted around and righted itself, shaking its head and hoofing the stream’s bed. Josh threw another rock at it, sure that his only hope was wearing the beast down until it was weak enough for him to attack.

Seeing him, the creature snarled, dipped its head, and raced for the boulder. Josh waited like before, jumping at the last moment and running back upstream to a bluff. As if choreographed, the boar smashed into the boulder, although it altered its course slightly this time, nearly catching Josh’s trailing foot.

He stood on the rock, knowing the creature was already wise to his plan even after only two attempts. He spotted Vella and saw a good-sized bluff near her. If he could make that, he could quickly scoot from the bluff to the tree and back. He needed a weapon—any weapon apart from a rock. If smashing head-on into a boulder didn’t kill it, throwing a rock at it was useless.

The boar charged. This time, Josh waited for it to hit before moving. It smashed into the rock with such force Josh swore it lifted it an inch or two. But he didn’t hang around. He launched himself off the juddering rock, springing for the bluff. Vella screamed, shouting at him to hurry up. The beast’s thumping footsteps sounded, closing on him. He tried to squeeze every ounce of speed from him, but as the bluff neared, he accepted he’d underestimated the creature’s thirst for blood.

As the boar’s panting breaths filled his ears, as his pounding hooves closed, Josh braced for the inevitable pain. He wasn’t disappointed. Pain lanced through his butt as the beast’s horns connected, ripping his buttocks, splitting his pubic bone and sending him crashing against the rock. Before he could recover, the boar was on him again, trampling him, ripping the flesh from his arms and legs with razor-sharp fangs. Fortunately, the breastplate protected his chest, shoulders and back.

“Heal!” Vella cried.

“Renew!” she shouted.

But even as his broken bones mended, more shattered. As his flesh healed, so the boar tore more away. Josh tried to rise, but the beast was all over him. He wanted to punch it, but the creature broke his arm before the punch connected. It was savage, brutal and lightning-fast. Josh had neither the strength, agility or durability to fight his way out of it.

“Heal!” Vella cried.

“Renew!” she shouted.

The beast’s snarls drowned out her feeble attempts to heal him. He retreated inside his head, knowing the battle was lost, understanding that he still lacked the power to fight ferocious creatures without weapons. His rage built, but with only a broken body, that anger was useless. Josh became a passenger in his death, and then, not surprisingly, everything went black.

But it wasn’t the type of darkness he expected. It came with an earsplitting squawk, a rush of wind, and a squeal filled with such utter peril that could only be made by a beast caught by complete surprise. Before Josh understood what was happening, the boar vanished, replaced by a vast maroon bird with turquoise plumage. It cocked its head, studying Josh, then tore after the boar whose feeble squeals filled the valley.

Vella stood over him, muttering heal and renew, but Josh was so mangled her magic struggled to piece him together. His brain fogged as his consciousness slipped away. He sensed the ring working furiously, trying and failing to find a solution. Despite the futility, he’d never give up, not on his new life—never on his girls, but the trauma, the utter devastation of the boar’s attack filled him with such pain that his brain inevitably shut down, preserving him at least from the insanity that would otherwise follow.

He woke to bright pink coating his eyes as light washed over him. Hesitant to open them, Josh finally wondered if he had entered a game—if he would wake in a white room with a soulless AI instructing him about the mechanics of a new and vicious world in which he would be expected to perform. If he was honest, it wasn’t the first time that thought had crossed his mind. It was, after all, every gamer’s dream.

But, as he lay there, as he began to make out familiar voices, understanding came to him. He’d survived—somehow. He was in no doubt that Arabus had saved his life. The timing, though, appeared a little fortunate.

He chanced one eye and immediately opened both. What man wouldn’t want to wake up and see Arabella, Cassandra, Elowen and Vella staring down at them? “I’m alive?”

Tears streamed down Arabella’s cheeks. “Yes, you’re alive, although barely. Vella told us what you did—drawing the boar away from her.” She sniffed. “I think Cassandra has something to say.”

Josh tried to raise his hand, but the pain was too much. “Cassandra, I don’t want to hear it. You sent Arabus after me. Without him, I’d have died. We’re even.”

She grabbed his hand, but he winced, so she set it back down. “Oh darling, we’re hardly even, but when I tell you what I’m going to do to you to get even, well, you’ll focus on getting well quickly—I can guarantee that.”

Vella cast a heal. “Heal not working,” she said.

“No. No, I’m built differently. You’ve done what you can.” Josh remembered back to his battle with Hardacre and how he’d received an upgrade notification shortly after Vella had cast renew. He thought it through. Renew gave him a thing called Vigor, according to the elf. Vigor was energy drawn from the sun and the ground, from fire and lightning—more elemental energy than anything else. It followed that food, which he’d previously needed to power the nanobots in his system, also derived their power from elemental energy. “Try renew,” he said absently, staring at Cassandra. “Seriously, don’t feel bad. Any other outcome, and it would have been quite funny.”

“No. I have to get used to being around people. I can’t just get bored with a conversation and wish it away. It seems I have the power to make that happen, and that could be pretty dangerous if I’m not careful.”

“How did Arabus find me?”

“Renew!” Vella said, and her vigor infused him with vital energy.

“Hold on,” Josh said. “I think that’s working.”

Catastrophic damage received

Host in need of phased rebuilding

Phases needed 3

Phases completed 0/3

Initiating phase 1

Basic attributes deemed inadequate

Basic senses deemed adequate

Working on solutions to enhance existing attributes

Strength – extremely poor

Speed and agility – extremely poor

Durability – poor

Combat instinct – poor

Arcane resistance – adequate

Assessing requirements to protect the host

Upgrading strength

Strength +2

Upgrading speed and agility

Speed and agility +2

Upgrading Durability

Durability +1

Upgrading combat instinct

Combat instinct +1

New Score =

Strength = 13

Speed and Agility = 13

Durability = 25

Combat instinct = 16

Arcane resistance = 23

Average = 18

Senses

Advanced intuitive hazard detection activated

Sub branches

Advanced physical threat detection – red

Advanced arcane threat detection – mauve

Advanced poison threat detection - blue

Rank = Novice Enforcer

Current Tier = Iron Apprentice

Title = Iron Apprentice of the Novice Enforcer

Josh’s entire body glowed with a vivid blue hue. His bones seemed to increase in tension, solidifying as if preparing for a more incredible evolution. His heart thumped in anticipation of what was to come. “Keep those renews coming,” he said, then locked eyes with Cassandra, suddenly finding a reason to thank her rather than admonish her.

“Renew!” Vella said. “What happening?”

“Something very special,” Josh said.

“Is it what I think it is?” Thadius’ voice boomed from the background.

“I think I might just get there,” Josh said as the female voice rang out in his mind.

Phase two added two points in strength, two in speed and agility, one in durability and one in combat instinct.

“Two out of three,” Josh said, his teeth gritted as every bone in his body throbbed, as something burrowed through his skin, spinning, entwining, mending, and knotting. “Nineteen point two with one to go.”

“Oh, this is good,” Thadius said. “Cassandra should catapult you into the Hangsane more often.”

“No, Dad, no, she shouldn’t!” Arabella scolded.

“Renew!” Vella filled him with vigor.

Catastrophic damage received

Host in need of phased rebuilding

Phases needed 3

Phases completed 1/3

Initiating phase 2

They waited. Josh waited.

Strength – extremely poor

Speed and agility – extremely poor

Durability – adequate

Combat instinct – adequate

Arcane resistance – adequate

He needed four points—just four measly points. He’d been torn apart. He deserved his evolution, didn’t he?

Upgrading strength

Strength +2

“Two to strength,” Josh said. “Got two in strength!”

Arabella clenched her fists. “Come on!”

Upgrading speed and agility

“I’m going to shag you to within an inch of your life if you get this!” Cassandra said.

“Do you have to?” Thadius snapped.

Josh closed his eyes.

Speed and agility +2

“Yes!” Josh said and punched the air. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

The girls squealed with delight, hugging each other, hugging Josh, raining kisses on Thadius.

Josh lay back, a contented look on his face. He took a breath, then let the ring’s voice soak through him.

New Score =

Strength = 17

Speed and Agility = 17

Durability = 26

Combat instinct = 17

Arcane resistance = 23

Average = 20

Senses

Advanced intuitive hazard detection activated

Sub branches

Advanced physical threat detection – red

Advanced arcane threat detection – mauve

Advanced poison threat detection - blue

Rank = Novice Enforcer

Tier advancement requirements met

Current Tier = Iron Apprentice

New Tier = Steel Adept

Title = Steel Adept of the Novice Enforcer

Josh took a breath.

“Well?” Thadius asked. “By how much?”

“By the skin of my teeth, but we’ve got it.”

Initiating upgrade.

Stage, Steel Adept reached.

Releasing bots.

Working on bone structure

Working on cardiovascular system

Linking nervous system

Hijacking neural network

Commencing Call to Arms.

Completing bone structure

Bone structure complete

Cardiovascular system complete

Nervous system linked

Neural network subjugated

Altering epidermis

Effecting enhanced strength

Strength does not qualify

Effecting enhanced speed and agility

Speed and agility does not qualify

Effecting enhanced durability

Durability score = 26

Changes Effected

Effecting combat instinct

Combat instinct does not qualify

Effecting Arcane resistance

Arcane resistance = 23

Changes effected

Call to Arms assigned

Leggings crafted

Call to Arms complete

Upgrade Complete

He closed his eyes as the blue glow faded. Suddenly, the trauma of what had happened came crashing down on him. The ferocity of the beast appalled him. He’d sensed its rage. It had wanted to tear him to pieces. It had hated every single part of him, and it was a simple forest beast. What worried him was the rage a real monster might feel.

“I have to get better,” he muttered.

“But you are stronger. You’ve just become so much stronger.”

“No,” he said. “I must be wiser.”

“I believe that’s why I’m here, Josh,” Thadius said. “Every person here had a purpose. That is mine.”

Josh nodded, letting go, letting sleep take him.

The boar had taught him a valuable lesson, one he’d never forget.

Chapter Four

THE NEXT TIME HE WOKE, he was alone. Rather than gleaming with white brilliance, the room was a little more muted. A single flame lit interwoven white twigs and branches framed with stouter trunks that formed a large room some twenty feet square. His bed matched the room’s oversized feel but was the most comfortable bed he could ever remember sleeping in. White sheets tucked under his chin, smelling of fresh meadows, of sweeping flower beds and mossy glades. He frowned, pushing the memories of mossy glades from his mind.

A table sat to one side of the bed with a bowl piled high with fruit in its center. Four chairs were neatly tucked under, and the room’s only window punctured the woven wall right by it. He lifted his arm, nervously at first. No pain lanced from it, nor was it scarred and mutilated. If anything, it was in much better shape than it had been. His skin, while strangely hairless, was blemish-free and tight around his muscles, which had also grown. He clenched his fist and strained, inspecting his bicep with a modicum of satisfaction.

“I’m stronger,” he said, easing the bedsheet down.

His pecs stood proud of his broad chest, which was weirdly hairless, too. Quickly touching his scalp, he breathed a sigh of relief when he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Thank fuck,” he muttered, checking he had eyebrows.

He wiggled his toes, which told him he had legs. With all limbs in place, he slid from the covers and stood. He felt magnificent, a little hungry, but magnificent. He was naked, and there was no sign of any clothes scattered around. He tried to call for some, remembering he had several modes in his Call to Arms.

“Casual.”

Nothing happened.

“Combat.”

His armored breastplate appeared, quickly cladding his upper body. It spread down, tiny linked, metallic-looking mail forming a pair of short-legged leggings that protected his butt, genitals and upper legs. It made sense that the ring had reacted to the boar’s attack and chosen to protect his pelvic region. After all, a tusk up the ass would tend to spur most things into action. All in all, he was pretty pleased with his armor, but it also presented him with a problem.

He had nowhere to put any weapons.

Cycling through the other clothing modes, formal and stealth, he concluded he had no clothes.

“Query clothing,” he said, trying to strike up some conversation with the voice in his mind. He needed to see if he could store weapons similarly to clothing. The problem he had was that it didn’t add up. The combat armor was part of him. It was like his skin mutated and changed into armor rather than him putting armor on. The mystery surrounded his casual clothes. They had vanished. It was entirely possible that the boar had destroyed his pants and shoes, and all that was left was his breastplate, but that didn’t add up because he should have still had his jacket, which had vanished the instant he had used his Call to Arms.

Which led him to one conclusion.

He didn’t understand something.

Josh remembered back to the first time he’d switched a computer on. A few buttons had told him they had functions, but only by exploring them had he worked out what those buttons did. The issue he had with the ring was simple. The buttons were missing. So, the solution was also glaringly obvious. He had to find them.

“Casual,” he said, and his armor vanished, leaving him naked again.

“Build clothing.”

Nothing happened.

“Form clothing.”

Nothing.

He tried to remember his first evolution. The ring had built his jacket for him, adapting to the environment. So, why wasn’t it doing it again? Or, had it adapted his original clothes? Either way, something was missing.

“Combat.”

His armor appeared again. He continued to think it through. With his armor on, his upper torso was entirely covered, but he had no boots, no jacket—nowhere to store any weapons. Which, given his last experience, was suicidal.

“Okay. Think about the process. So, I called for my armor, and my jacket vanished. If I removed my armor or simply didn’t require it anymore, my jacket would come back. So, in conclusion, the ring had either lost or destroyed my jacket. Assuming the latter, was it a progression thing, or was it because the system wasn’t fit for purpose?”

He sat at the table, grabbing an apple and biting a chunk out of it. The fact that it had built a jacket and could absorb it told Josh that it could easily transform matter on his skin’s surface in a similar way to how it had interacted with his bone structure. While fully conversant with interdimensional storage as a catch-all for adventurers lugging vast amounts of gear around, he attempted to understand how the ring could store the differing elements it could call on as and when needed. He concluded it was through more efficient organization—a little along the lines of a reformatted computer disc.

He sat back, looking up at the room’s woven branch ceiling. He needed a prompt—much like when he’d used AIs to research. He needed to prompt the ring to engage it in a conversation. Once he’d worked out how to do that, they could begin to work together.

He tried thinking of a more formal prompt.

Report: Call to Arms not functioning in current environment. Please assess and return options.

His mind contracted as a slight tug pinched him. It was like the ring recognized his words, but the protocols weren’t quite right. He formed another prompt.

Device: Call to Arms not functioning in current environment. Please assess and return options.

The pinch came again, no more or less intense than before. His gut told him that he was on the right track. The ring conversed fine with him. It was the other way that was the problem. He tried the obvious.

Ring: Call to Arms not functioning in current environment. Please assess and return options.

It gave him the same result—a slight pinch but nothing more. Then it came to him. He needed to identify himself, not the ring. He had to tell the device the query was coming from him, not some external source. It was a security protocol.

Josh: Call to Arms not functioning in current environment. Please assess and return options.

The same pinch twanged his brain, this time a little more intense. The ring was letting him know he was getting close. He remembered back to the words that changed his life.

Assessing new host

The ring thought of him as a host—his name, as far as it was concerned, was Host.

Host: Call to Arms not functioning in current environment. Please assess and return options.

He felt no pinch. Instead, his mind fired, not in the sense of heat, but rather like a computer processing data, analyzing and concluding.

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: Agreement confirmed. Reassessing options. Providing Host with optimal conclusions.

1. Erase existing options

2. Provide new options within parameters

3. Agree options

4. Suggest protocols

5. Agree protocols

6. Enact choices

Josh was on home territory. He’d brainstormed with AIs all his life.

Host: Expand two.

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: Options include:

1. Rely on external options only

2. Rely on internal options only

3. Hybrid – Suggested

Host: Expand three.

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: The hybrid option could include two sets of armor and one cloaking set. The first would be light armor that could be worn at all times under externally provided clothing. It would provide increased piercing resistance above durable skin with minimal sacrifice to speed and agility. It would have an advantage over durable skin when dealing with blunt force, but this would be minimal. Some inbuilt resistance to elemental magic would benefit the host. Suggested applications include fighting smaller, faster monsters, sentient melee opponents or operating in enemy territory before any threat is identified. The second option would be heavy armor. This would require the host to discard all clothing. Once the set is complete, all areas of the host will be protected against piercing and blunt damage and have enhanced arcane resistance. Sacrifices to strength, speed and agility would be noticeable. Option three would require the host to remove all external clothing. A manipulation skin would form over durable skin. This coating could absorb all light, mimic background colors, refract light, blending, and camouflage. It would offer no resistance to piercing, blunt or arcane damage over the host’s durable skin.

Host: Assuming I accept option three – hybrid. What level of protection would Steel Adept offer?

Tremelox-Alpha-Four:

1. Light Armor – Vest and short pants

2. Heavy Armor – Cuirass and Cuisses

3. Stealth coating – Full body with limited functionality—absorption and camouflage available

Host: Option two is unacceptable. Sacrifice to speed and agility is too high. Provide options.

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: Most viable option would be a form of scale armor. While options at lower levels would only include current alloys, as Host progresses, new materials could be explored to increase piercing and blunt resistance. Scale armor offers reduced protection over plate armor but decreases sacrifices to strength, speed and agility.

Host: Scale armor is infinitely upgradeable?

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: Yes.

Host: Use scale armor.

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: Processing.

Re-evaluating Call to Arms.

Adding in suggestions

Call to arms:

- Light Armor

- Scale Armor

- Stealth Coating

Note—Light armor can be equipped with no alteration to external clothing. Scale armor requires the host to remove all outer clothing. Stealth coating requires the host to be unclothed. All options require the host to carry his own weapons.

Suggested protocols:

1. Arm light

2. Arm scale

3. Stealth mode

Host: Agreed.

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: Continue and enact? Y/N

Note: The host should be lying down.

Josh lay on the bed.

Host: Yes.

“Yoo-hoo!” Cassandra called. “Oh, there you are, on the bed, not a stitch on, and unless I’m very much mistaken, everything about you is bigger.” She sat upon the bed’s edge staring at his dick. “And I mean everything.” She ran her tongue over her lips. “Such a shame.”

“What is?” he asked, his erection growing in anticipation of what was likely to come. She owed him, after all, and even though he’d said she didn’t have to repay him, he’d not turn it down if she offered.

“That there’s a cue of people outside waiting to come in.” She reached, grabbing his cock. “Thicker, too. Might make a girl scream in ecstasy.” She shrugged. “Pop some clothes on, and I’ll invite them in.”

“Slight issue with that. I’ve no clothes. The boar decimated them, and I’ve made a new arrangement with the ring.”

Her face lit up. “Are you telling me you need a full set of clothes—the lot? Darling, you’ve just stepped right into my territory.” She let go of his dick, jumping up. “Stay there. Stay right there. I’ll get rid of everybody and get the right ones here.”

“Hold on!” he protested. “If you can get rid of everyone, then we could, you know?”

“Fuck?” she said. “Really? We’ve clothes to make.” She raced out.

Josh lay back on the bed, watching his cock wilt.

“Hello.”

Vella’s voice startled him. She climbed through the window and sat cross-legged on the table.

“Vella,” he said, covering his groin with a sheet.

“No need. Seen everything. Seen you fucking witch, remember?”

“I remember, still, I’ll keep it like this for now.”

“Wanted to thank you for saving me.”

“I told you. You don’t have to. All I did was run away until it finally caught me.”

“But it didn’t catch me, so you saved me.” She shrugged. “You can’t change that.”

“I don’t want to change it. I will always save you if it’s in my power.”

“Why? Don’t know Vella. Why care?”

He grinned, sitting up in the bed. “I don’t know you too well yet, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to get to know you better. Besides, you healed me loads.”

“Me, healer. Of course, I healed you.” She furrowed her brow, her eyes narrowing to slits. “Heal you some, renew you loads. You’re different.”

“I am,” Josh said.

“Can I feel?” she asked.

“Feel?”

“Feel you.”

He pulled the cover over a little more. “Go for it.”

She slid off the table, skipping over and sitting beside him. He smelt her earthen scent immediately, but it was more subtle than before. Her breath wafted over him as she leaned close, her breasts overflowing her skimpy green top. He was desperate to ask her if he could play, too, but he was struggling to keep his growing boner under control. She placed her palm on his forehead, her skin soft and cool.

“Different,” she said. “Little mana. No magic. But the things you do have magic.”

A pressure built in his head, like blood surging and rallying under her palm. He instantly understood the nanobots gathered there, trying to understand her touch, to sample her subtle secretions. She recoiled, gasping.

“Dead things,” she said. “No, not dead—elemental. Light beings—tiny light beings.” She reached again, hesitant, then pressing. “Yes, things that drink vigor. They help you?”

“Very much,” he said.

“Then good things.”

“Good things, yes. Vigor helps me.”

She moved her hand, placing it on his heart. “Vigor here. Lots of light things feeding. They need more. They need food.”

“You can tell that?”

She tapped her temple. “Can tell when something is sick. They need food, different food. Not the same.”

“Can you gather it for me?”

“Can, but you must eat. Then you get better.”

“But I feel great.”

She smirked. “Imagine how good you feel when well,” she said, ran to the window and dove out.

Josh looked after her, slipping off the bed and looking out the window.

A forest spread away, grand oaks twice the size of any he’d ever seen. Wood and rope walkways spanned tree to tree. Branches cradled other dwellings. An elf sat on a chair on his porch, rocking and whittling a stick. He craned his head, looking for Vella, but she’d vanished.

“So this is Elarathon,” he muttered.

“So, ladies, this is Josh’s butt,” Cassandra said. “It’s your task to cover it.”

Josh spun around as a dozen elven females crowded into the room.

“And that’s his cock,” Cassandra added.

Chapter Five

“COULD I GET A CLOAK?” Josh asked as the elves filed away.

“A cloak?” Cassandra sniffed. “You wanted a cloak?” She snapped her fingers, and a shirt, pants, and lightweight boots appeared. “What about these?”

He eyed them skeptically. “You had these all along, but you kept me naked in front of all those elves?”

“Girl’s gotta show off what she’s riding. Never been so proud of myself in all my life.” She handed him the pile. “Best get dressed. We’ve got things to do and people to meet.”

“Where’s Arabella and the others?”

“Let me put it like this. Your near demise has shaken things up a little.” She looked around the room. “You like this place?”

“It’s okay.”

“Well, make the most of it. We might be staying a couple of weeks.”

“How come?”

She cupped his cheek, kissing him, forcing her tongue between his teeth, seeking out his and sliding up and down its length. “There’s been a realignment in priorities. The elves have a proposal for you.” She headed for the door. “Don’t rush out. The whole place is a little laddery.”

“A bit what?” he asked, slipping on the pants and shirt.

They were tight, stretching over him, leaving his muscles defined and little else to the imagination. The boots were soft, little more than thick socks with decent soles. They laced up, which initially caused him some difficulty, but he made a fair stab at it. He stood, wondering if pale green suited him, but it was good to have clothes on after standing naked in front of a dozen or so females, getting measured, assessed, and pawed over. He left the room, nearly walking straight off a narrow deck, windmilling his arms and leaning back.

“Been waiting all morning to see that,” said an elf sitting on the stoop of the adjacent treehouse. “That and watching the witch go up and down the ladder. That’s a sight to behold, don’t mind telling you.”

“I’ll bet. You live there?” Josh indicated the house.

“Not minded to sit on anyone else’s porch,” he muttered. “Name’s Elronwood. I hear you and yours killed the old sorcerer.” Elronwood was an elderly elf with a crown of white hair and a beard that resembled fluffy white clouds. He held a looking glass, which he lifted to his eye as he studied Josh. “I can understand what they see in you. There’s what? Three of them?” He grunted. “The witch would have been enough for me.”

“Nonsense,” Josh said. “Back in the day, you’d have had them all eating out of your hand.” He winked at the old elf. “And don’t you try and tell me any different.”

He hopped on the ladder, climbing down, suddenly brimming with energy. He’d yet to feel the difference between being an Iron Apprentice and Steel Adept. If he were right, he’d only notice progress to his durability and arcane resistance. He’d feel a six-point jump in the first and three in the second. The other attributes were close but had yet to break into the twenties, so climbing to Steel Adept had no effect on them.

“But my durability should be better,” he muttered, looking down. He was still at least forty feet off the ground. “I wonder.”

“No!” Cassandra yelled as he dropped, hit the ground, and froze.

She crouched by him. “Are you okay?”

He stood. “Absolutely fine.”

“That was a daft thing to do,” she said.

“You’d have done it too.”

“Agreed. I’d go so far as to say I haven’t stopped fucking around with my magic since Simmalion explained a few points to me."

"Where’s your staff?”

She turned away, walking along a path lined with red-capped toadstools bursting from glowing emerald moss. It twisted and turned, broken by small bridges passing over glittering streams and lined with tiny alcoves lit by minuscule sprites. “Almost sickening, isn’t it?”

“The land?” he asked.

“Far too perfect,” she said. “You can’t beat a bit of corruption—the odd bad boy.”

“So what happened to your staff?”

“You’d make a fine bad boy. You’d still fight on the side of good, but you’d be rough around the edges, perhaps a drinking problem. What do you think? Can you be a little more edgy?”

He grabbed her arm, holding her. “What happened to your staff.”

She bit her lip, looking away. “They confiscated it.”

“Who confiscated it?”

She shifted on her feet like an admonished child. “Thadius and Simmalion.”

“Why?” he said with a big grin on his face. “No, how? Aren’t you supposed to be the most powerful sorceress in the land?”

“I might have blown up a small bit of their forest.” She lifted her hand, pressing her thumb and forefinger together—almost, but not quite meeting. “This much. Insignificant, really, and they’re already working on fixing it. Apparently, I can’t have it back until I learn to control my temper.”

“Couldn’t you just take it back?”

“I could, but then Simmalion would refuse to teach me, and she knows so much, Josh. She knows everything. If I can understand a tiny bit of her lore, I’ll be able to do so much—to help you—to help the others.”

“You got told off, didn’t you!”

She pulled her arm away and stormed off. “Yes, I got told off. It was no fun. If you hadn’t been so stupid and got yourself all mauled up, then there might have been a bit of pressure on you, too. Instead, I had to take it all.”

“Might I remind you that if you’d not sent me flying all the way to the Hangsane Mountains, I wouldn’t have been mauled?”

She turned, glaring at him. “How many times are you going to bring that up?”

“It’s the first time!”

“Yes, well, don’t make a habit out of it. If you’d stayed put, Arabus would have found you immediately. It was a pretty clean swipe. I didn’t hook it or slice it. Yup, if you’d have stayed put, he’d have brought you straight back.”

“I need to thank Arabus for saving me.”

“Trust me, you need to stay away from Arabus. He’s bad enough on a normal day, but a couple of days after he’s eaten a whole boar, trust me, you don’t want to be under him when he blows.”

“I’ll bear that in mind when we go.”

She grabbed his hand, pulling him along. “Not going to be an issue. Like I said, we’re here for a while if you say yes.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.”

They came to a large, round, wooden hut. A path surrounded it, three more branching off it at equal distances. Smoke rose from the center of its thatched roof, and several elven soldiers walked the circle, spears in hand.

“This is their military headquarters. It’s run, not surprisingly, by Helleron. He wants to meet you.”

“Why?” Josh had no problem meeting Helleron but fancied understanding the reason.

“He has a proposal for you.”

“Why didn’t he ask Thadius?”

“Thadius told him you were in charge and that the choice was yours.”

“Then let’s see what he wants.” Josh marched onto the path and then around until he came to a large entrance. Two elves crossed their spears and barred his way. “Helleron wants to see me,” he said as Cassandra drew beside him.

“Come in, come in, Josh,” Helleron said, brushing the spears aside.

The elf looked genuinely pleased to see him. He led him into the hut. A large, round table dominated it, with the center cut away and a firepit in its middle, smoke rising to the hole in the roof. Several elven soldiers sat at the table, all turning to Josh.

“This is my council—my leaders. There are a few empty seats, but not everyone survived the battle. Take a seat—you too, Cassandra. You both represent the power in your group. Josh, Thadius informs me you are the leader, so I wish to put a proposal to you.”

“Thadius was capable of making any choice,” Josh said, sitting.

“Not according to him. He is an advisor to your new project, nothing more. Perhaps it’s a choice he made while you were healing?” Helleron sat, raising his palms up. “Are you happy to make the choice?”

“I’m certainly happy to listen,” Josh said. He figured if Thadius didn’t want to make the decision and didn’t tell Cassandra to get him, then there shouldn’t be an issue. He probably was just wanting to reinforce his advisor role, even if he didn’t give Josh any advice about the proposal.

“Listening isn’t enough. We want a decision, and we’d like it today.”

Cassandra leaned in. “We’ve spoken about it. You are the head of our family. The choice is yours,” she whispered. Josh whispered back, “I got this.”

Josh digested her words, accepting them, and nodded. “You’ll get your decision.”

“Very well. I’ll start at the beginning, which is not so long ago. We, of course, felt the sorcerer stirring. You also know that we had spies placed in and around Elrima to monitor arcane activity in the area. We were, naturally, aware of Cassandra and removed her magic from our calculations. To get to the point, we knew what was coming, so we turned our attention fully to Elrima. We lost eighteen soldiers in the battle. That might not sound a lot to you, but our army is modest and made up of hunters. With our focus turned, our patrols in the foothills of the Hangsane thinned. When that happens, the monsters gain a foothold. I believe you met an Amextrix Boar. It is one of the smaller monsters.”

“Why didn’t you ask Thadius when he came?” Josh asked.

“We trust the monster slayer, but he is past his prime, and our problems are our own. Had we told him of our issues, he would have stormed into the Hangsane with his daughter, and likely neither would have survived.”

“So, what do you propose?”

“A mutually beneficial deal. You need wagons, and we have some of the foremost experts in woodlore of all the elven tribes. We will build your wagons and provide you with creatures to draw them. We will allow you to train here while we build them. In return, you will seek out the monsters and kill them. There are three nests. Catorox will run through them.” He indicated a younger elf with tied-back white hair and a pale, blunt face.

He stood. “We estimate there to be six to eight Amextrix Boars. We believe you came across a boarlet—a young, aggressive boar but not a full-grown one. To the southwest, we have a cluster of Doomwing Harpies—a violent band that likes nothing more than feeding on elven flesh, and to the northwest, there is a tribe of trolls. Now, trolls don’t usually venture out of the Hangsane Mountains, nor do harpies. We can only conclude that something is driving them out.”

“You said that,” Josh said to Cassandra. “You told me something had driven Arabus’ mother out.”

Helleron nodded. “The Roc rarely leaves those mountains.”

“She’d been in a fight,” Cassandra said.

“Surely we need to go after whatever is driving the beasts from the Hangsane, or the problems will continue?"

Helleron laughed. “I realize you think you have incredible power but think on this. You barely survived a boar attack. Why would you want to fight something that has driven them from their homes?”

“Because it’s the only way we’re going to stop it,” Josh said. “Plus, you will build me some mighty fine wagons if I do.”

“We will build you the very best.”

“I want a tower and a chimney in mine, and a bath—don’t forget the bath,” Cassandra said.

“We’ll need Vella, your very best tracker, and your best archer to teach Arabella. I’ll need weapons. Simmalion will instruct Cassandra. I’ll need a bigger bed for my wives and a separate hut for Thadius. I believe Vella understands the type of food I must eat. We’ll need somewhere to train and a place to wash.” Josh drummed his hands on the table. “What do you trade with humans?”

“We have some reserves of the precious metals you use as currency.”

“Then we’ll have a few barrels of that, too. Just to get us going, you understand.”

“Thadius Extrael would have done it for a favor.”

“But you asked me, didn’t you?” He smiled as silence fell. Josh realized this was another reason why Thadius had him handle the negotiation. He knew the worth of what they’d be doing and wasn’t hesitant about demanding a fair reward.

Helleron slapped the table. “You will have all these things. Anything else?”

“Luck. We’ll need plenty of luck.”

Chapter Six

ARABELLA RAN straight into Josh’s arms, squealing in delight. “Finally! We’ve got so much to show you!” She peppered him with kisses. “What did you decide?”

“Decide?”

“At the meeting. We’re okay with whatever you want to do.”

“Yes, Josh,” said Thadius. “How did the meeting with Helleron go?”

“It went well,” he said, then returned Arabella’s kiss. “What is this place?”

Cassandra had led him to a large clearing surrounded by oaks. A log fire blazed in its center, and several felled trunks served for seats. Elowen sat on one with Vella next to her. The smell of pork cooking made Josh’s mouth water—hunger suddenly consumed him.

“It is a training base,” Thadius said. “Whatever your choice, I thought it wise, given the circumstances, to get a little training in. Did Cassandra tell you about her mishap?”

“Yes, I told him about it,” Cassandra said. “And mishap is the right word. Could have happened to anyone.”

“It could have happened to any sorceress with potentially unlimited power, yes. I think that narrows the field down to you.”

“Harumph!” Cassandra said, then sniffed the air. “Are those steaks? Is that pork? I could devour a whole pig.”

“Yes, pig,” said Vella.

“Come, Josh,” Thadius said. “It’s been a couple of days since we spoke. Come, come sit. Let me have a few moments of your time before Arabella monopolizes it.”

“You can have as long as it takes him to eat and drink. Then I’m going to show him how good I’ve got with my bow.” Arabella pulled Josh to a log.

“And no doubt Elowen would like to show off her spearcraft. Come—sit. Elowen trapped a piglet earlier. The meat is to die for.” Thadius sat on his trunk, picking up a bowl and scooping some food into his mouth.

“No meat for him,” Vella said. “Him has light things inside him. Must eat light food.” She grabbed a bowl filled to the brim with leaves, nuts and fruit. “This for you. Make you stronger.”

Josh looked at it. “You sure?” he said, scrunching his face in disgust.

“Sure. Trust Vella.”

“A bit of pork?”

“No meat. Not today. Light things.”

It was hard for him not to trust her. She fluttered her wide gray eyes, pouting and arcing her cleavage at him. He took the bowl, grabbed a handful of berries and tossed them in his mouth one at a time. All eyes fell on him, so he relayed the salient points of the meeting.

“So, we’re here for a while. We have three quests. In no particular order, we have to eradicate a harpy nest, kill some trolls and exterminate a den of the same wild boars that very nearly killed me. In return, the elves will make us a wagon each, but not just any wagon, one you’d be happy to travel the lands in. In addition, they will give us several barrels of ore. I didn’t discuss which metal. It was an afterthought. In order to complete the task, we will be furnished with weapons, training, a scout and, if she’ll come, Vella.”

“That’s quite a price,” Thadius said. “Harpies are particularly nasty. Trolls, well, they are a different kettle of fish, and I think we all know how dangerous the boar are.”

“That’s not all. If we’re successful, I’ve a mind to travel into the Hangsane and see what’s making all the monsters flee. If we don’t stop it, then more will come.”

“Quite a first task,” Thadius said. “Are you sure you’re all up to it?”

“Would you have turned it down?”

“Of course not.”

“Then we plan right, and we win.” Josh picked up a blue fruit with multiple soft spines sticking out. “Eat?” he asked, suddenly comfortable with his leadership.

“Yes, eat. Eat up,” Vella said.

He popped it in his mouth. “Okay, let’s focus on the boar. Firstly, I knew nothing about them, was unarmed, taken by surprise and essentially alone. Elowen, your first task is to interview all the elves that will talk to you and catalog everything about the boars. You are to liaise with their scout, find the boars and write down everything about their habitat, den, and timings—nocturnal, daylight foragers, whether they sleep at the same time—that sort of thing. We will then form a plan of attack along with contingencies. Vella, your task is to assess the individual health and fitness of every party member, adjust their diet, and ensure they are in peak form. Can you make potions?”

“No.”

“Then work on your reserves too.”

“Okay.”

“What about me?” Arabella asked.

“You must practice your bow for as long as you can each day.”

“That all?” She snuggled close. “I’ve missed you.” She pecked him on the cheek.

“Missed you too, babe. And no, that’s not all. I want you to find the local alchemist. See if there are any poisons we can use against the boars, harpies, or trolls. Remember, we’re not here for the glory. There’s no such thing as a valiant fight to the death. There’s only winning and losing. Thadius?”

“Yes?”

“Are you joining us, or are you an advisor? I understand from Helleron and Cassandra that you’re stepping back.”

“I informed them that I would not make the choices for your family. That is the correct thing to do. I am,” he said carefully, “happy to fight should you need me while you recruit a swordsman. I was going to offer advice on the monsters, but if I’m honest, you appear very thorough.”

Josh held his gaze. “I’m honored that you put your faith in me. I won’t let you down.”

“You might, but as long as you put in everything you’ve got, I’ll have no complaints. This thing with Elowen is interesting.”

“Research?” Elowen said.

“Yes, that. Might I come along to that? I might be able to offer insights—perhaps point out things you might miss until you become accustomed to it.”

Elowen squealed in delight. “You can be my field advisor. I have staff, Arabella! Staff!”

“I take it I have to learn to control my magic,” Cassandra said, a little downhearted.

“I think we can focus a little better than just any old magic. What we need is specific magic to achieve each mission objective.”

“Each what?” Cassandra screwed her nose up.

“Right, so we have a quest, and that is to clear the forest of three types of threat. Each one we’ll call a mission. So, what might you need to kill the harpies? We’ll know more when Elowen reports, but let’s say we’ll need spells to slow their flight, to trap them in mid-air, to shoot them down and to destroy their nest. Whereas the boar’s biggest attack is to charge with their horns down—I should know. So, if you could open up a spiked pit in front of them, that might come in handy, or thread a strong net from one tree to another. Specialist spells—that’s what we need.”

“Got it,” she said. “So, its ice shards in the nards for the trolls?”

Josh rolled his eyes. “I guess.”

“What are you going to focus on, Josh?” Thadius asked. “I take it you’ll still be this tank?”

“Yep. I’m going to learn shield work first. My job is to stay alive while you kill the beasts. So far, I’ve been doing a lousy job of staying injury-free. I will ask Helleron to have a decent shield made for me and perhaps learn the spear and a short stabby sword.”

“Perhaps take your own advice,” Thadius said. “Prepare for each threat specifically. You’ll not, for instance, need a big shield to fend off a harpy, but a spear would be ideal.” He smacked his lips together. “Elowen, we should leave at first light and research the first target. It seems everything hinges on the preparatory work.” He stood. “I shall go and hurry Helleron along. We’ll need the scout as soon as possible.”

“It will be Intego. Him the best. Bit moody, but best scout,” Vella said.

Josh finished his bowl and passed it back to Vella. “That was—” He couldn’t put it into words, so he left it unsaid. “You wanted to show me your skills?” He pulled Arabella close.

“Yeah. I’ve had Relanthia teach me. She’s a great huntress. They’re all good. I thought I was really good, until they showed me what they could do. Their range is at least two or three times mine. I’m going to be so much better when I’m done training!” She tugged him off the trunk, grabbing her bow and quiver. “First thing she did was restring my bow. Then she renewed the grip, tossed all my arrows away and gave me these.” She showed him the quiver. All her colorful arrows had been replaced with gray fletched ones. “Anyway, they go much further, much faster. I’m getting so much better.”

They marched to the edge of the clearing, through the trees to a long alley of trunks that ended around thirty yards away at a large target. “This is their medium range. The first day, I couldn’t even reach the target. That’s when she restrung my bow and changed my arrows. The second day, I hit the target, but barely. Now look.”

She nocked an arrow, inhaling then holding her breath. As she drew back the string and aimed, she exhaled slowly, shooting just before she stopped. The arrow sped through the air, thudding into the target.

“High and right!” A voice came from the trees as an elven woman dropped down. “I’m Relanthia,” she said.

She was too plain for Josh’s taste, with a long, sharp face and tiny eyes. But then, he mused, next to Arabella, most women looked plain and dull. “Thank you for teaching her. I can see she’s getting better.”

“Range is one thing,” Arabella said. “Relanthia’s taking me out hunting tomorrow. Nothing dangerous, but she’s going to test me on shooting multiple moving targets one after the other.”

“Bats,” said Relanthia. “Good training.” She handed Josh a bow. “You want a go?”

Josh took a step back. “Show me how it’s done first. Put a few arrows in the target.”

She quirked her brow. “If you like, but it’d be easier if I corrected you.”

“Josh has this odd way of learning,” Arabella explained.

Relanthia set her stance. Josh took up a position side-on, watching her every move as she nocked, drew and shot. He asked her to do it again, but this time, he looked from behind. The third time, he watched from the opposite side as the first time, and then he finally looked from in front, just a little to one side.

“Get everything you need?” she asked.

“I think so. I’m testing a theory.” He took the bow from her when she offered it. He held it, mimicking her grip, then setting his stance, nocking, aiming and shooting just like she had. The arrow scuffed the target's top and flew deeper into the forest.

“Nearly,” Arabella said, clapping her hands together.

“It was great technique, but you didn’t aim for the target.” Relanthia handed him another arrow.

“How so?” he asked.

“Nock it and hold the same stance.”

Josh did as she told him.

“Right, look along the arrow. Where is it aiming?”

Sure enough, it was pointing about a foot above the top of the target. “Over the top of the target.”

“Okay,” she said. “I think I see what you’ve done here. You mimicked my exact pose. But you are taller than me, so you are aiming higher than I did. Also, you have wider shoulders than me, so you tension the string more when you draw back the same distance.” She leaned in, then put her finger on his arrow, pressing down until satisfied.

“That’s aiming at the place I hit,” he said.

“Try it,” she said.

He loosed the arrow. It flew straight and true, thudding slightly off-center.

Relanthis cocked her head. “Well, what do you know? You’re a natural.”

“I just copied what you did.”

She shook her head. “No one is that good at copying. Use that bow. Practice with Arabella. It’s a training bow. If you’re serious about archery, ask Helleron for a long bow. You’d be deadly with that.”

She sauntered off, leaving Josh and Arabella to practice. Once they’d used their arrows, they walked to the target to retrieve them. “I’m glad we’re getting a bit of time together. We need to talk.”

“We do?”

“I wanted to check you’re happy that Elowen will join our family. I’ve talked with her. She wants in.”

“Yeah, she mentioned it back at the lake,” Josh said. “And yes, I love Elowen—what’s not to like? She’s smart, beautiful, and has a body to die for, but don’t think she has to come in just because she’s monster hunting with us.”

“That’s not why,” Arabella said. “We both love her. She loves us. Cassandra and her get along fine, and Dad loves her like a daughter. She’s a good fit.”

“Then we don’t need to talk about it. When she wants—when she’s ready. She can make her move. I’ll not rush her into it.” They came to the target and plucked their arrows out. “I’m just saying it’s not a prerequisite for monster-hunting with us. I don’t want her to feel pressured into sharing our bed. Take Vella—if she joins us, she doesn’t have to join us in that way.”

“No,” Arabella said. “But it would be easier if she did fit. Come on, I want to show you something.”

She pulled him through the trees, taking a path up, then hurrying off it and up a rocky bank. They slid down the bank’s other side, then she ducked into some undergrowth, pulling him into a tiny, secluded glade with a small waterfall and stream. Without waiting, she pulled him into her arms, forcing her body against his as she kissed him.

He blinked, surprised by the sudden change, but as her tongue licked along his teeth, he opened his mouth, his passion rising, and wrapped his arms around her. Their shared lust quickly overflowed. He clawed at her pants, forcing them down, finishing the job with his boot as she fumbled to reach his cock.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” she said.

“And I’ve missed you too, babe.” He pulled his shirt off as she moved away, pulling her pants off, then her top, crouching and yanking his pants down. His engorged dick sprung free, whacking her straight in the face. She grabbed it with both hands.

“Fuck,” she said. “Cass said she thought it had got bigger. I’m not sure I can get my mouth around it.”

“You can try later. I just wanna fuck you right here, right now.”

He lifted her up, pushing her against a tree. She pulled her legs around him, reaching down and holding his cock at her entrance. “Then fuck me,” she said.

He nudged his tip in. Once sure he was positioned right, he thrust his entire length into her in one quick stroke. Her legs opened as she reached above her head, her body held in place by just his rigid dick. He grabbed her ass, opening them up as he pulled partially out and then slid back in.

“Does it feel bigger, baby?”

“Oh fuck, yes. Fuck, yes!” she cried as he began to glide in and out of her. “Don’t hold back! Fuck me hard! Fuck me quick!”

He didn’t need asking twice, jamming his dick into her over and over, his balls slapping against her ass, wet from her seeping juices. Her breasts pressed against his chest as she kissed his neck, biting, making strangled noises that told him she could barely take his cock powering into her.

His balls welled, cum streaming from them as he slammed into her, not worrying about anything but his own gratification, knowing that all she wanted was to feel his hot cum inside her. She yelled as he thrust all the way in, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself into her. His passion ebbed, and he lifted his head to see her lips upturned, waiting for his kiss.

He sank into that kiss, all his passion turning to desperate yearning—a hope that the kiss would never end, that he could stay there, her impaled on his cock, their tender kiss everlasting.

“I love you, Arabella Extrael.”

“And I love you, Josh Underwood.”

Chapter Seven

JOSH CALLED for his light armor. A rippling spread over his torso as his skin pinched together, hardening, then becoming flexible, his mail stretching over his muscles but forming under his clothes.

"What's it like?" Arabella asked.

"Like putting on your underwear last.”

The elven seamstress regarded him, her narrow cheeks drawn in. She stepped forward, checking his crotch, pulling at his new pants, then testing his jacket's fit. "It's a little tight with the added thickness under."

She avoided saying armor. Josh's unlikely explanation still hung in the air. Fortunately, Arabella had stepped in and said: "Magic," which had been enough for the elf to return a knowing nod.

"I'll take them back and adjust the seams. Are there enough pockets for you?"

While he'd loved his swashbuckling, slightly longer coat, it had tended to get in the way a little. This one was more like an old space bomber jacket, except with a load of tassels, some seemingly unnecessary buckles, pockets everywhere, and a couple of small knife sheaths. It also had several loops along its bottom hem, which the seamstress informed him would come in handy for hanging things from. Quite what he’d hang from his jacket remained a mystery.

“Plenty of pockets, thank you.”

His pants were an orgy of tassels too. He had no idea why, as none of the elves had them. Elowen told him that the history books always depicted the early settlers with tasseled clothes, so the elves probably thought he'd like them. In fairness, he did. They had other redeeming features—two deep pockets in the front, more of the loops, and extra knife holsters.

They'd made him a utility belt, too. It had a sheath for a sword, a hook for a water bottle, small pockets with helpful stuff like strikes, a spoon, a small, sharp blade for shaving, and another for cutting leaves and plants.

His new boots continued the theme of straps and tassels. They came up to his shins and looked badass. Everything was made from a sandy-colored hemp-like material that the seamstress assured him offered some degree of piercing protection.

He took all of them off, handing the jacket and pants to the elf, who left quickly.

"I like it. Makes you look adventurous," Arabella said.

They'd been inseparable since they’d got together the day before. Elowen and Thadius had set straight out to scout the boars, while Cassandra had spent the entire day and most of the night with Simmalion. She'd come back exhausted, crawled into their bed and fallen straight asleep. She'd already left by the time Josh had woken. While impressed with her dedication to the cause, he'd hoped for a bit of three-time with her and Arabella. It had lurked on their horizon since he'd got together with the witch, but circumstance had always foiled its chance of happening.

"Show me the camouflage one," Arabella asked.

"What?" he said, shoving away the vision of Cassandra and Arabella blowing his cock together.

"The camouflage one and the heavy armor. Show me them."

He called for his stealth option, the light armor vanishing as his skin increased in suppleness and changed color. Except, color was the wrong word. Oddly, it was more an absence of color, indeed, an absence of anything. He became entirely black.

"It's a little too black," Arabella observed. "Shadows aren't black, black. They are more shades of gray. I think you'll show up if you hide like that."

"Wait. I have a camouflage option. Perhaps if I choose that?" He commanded the ring to add camouflage. His skin immediately mottled, becoming a mix of the light elven wood with strips of darker bark veins, and he blended in with the hut’s walls.

"Now that is good," said Arabella. "If you match any background, you could sneak anywhere."

"That's the plan," he said, then called for his scale armor. His skin altered again, but this time, the transformation was so extensive and fast it was like a flash burn over his entire torso. He shivered; the feeling so strange that he didn't know what to make of it. Each time he moved, the scale plates rubbed against each other, sending shivers through him.

"This is going to take some getting used to," he said.

"It looks great though, like really tough but flexible too. What's it made of?"

"Looks like some bone or chitin—something like that. It's not metal. For some reason, I expected it to be metal." It was tight-fitting, like a one-piece vest, but with hundreds of tiny flaps woven together. He tried a thrust, then a jump, a punch, and a stretch. "Yes, if it works how the description says, it'll be just fine."

It was weird, though, as he was technically naked. His armor was him, and he was his armor. He felt around his groin but could find no trace of his genitals. He touched his ass but could only sense a crease, exactly like it would be if he'd been wearing the armor. He deduced a second skin had grown over his original.

"Yup, take some getting used to," he said.

"Well, you can take it all off now. It'll be a while until the seamstress returns, and we can't go anywhere, so..."

"I like the way you think," he said, grinning.

In common with all settlements, Elarathon had a tavern. Their one doubled as a feasting hall and was impressively large and incredibly serene. It took up an entire oak, which happened to be the biggest tree in all of Elarathon.

The tavern was a maze of interconnected walkways, rooms and halls, all cradled by the oak's mighty branches. There was a great place to eat at the top of its canopy—a sun terrace looking out over the whole valley, with a small bar in one corner that served fresh juices, nuts and fruits. If you wanted somewhere a little more private, you could stroll along a branch and sit in a small, woven booth. Meeting rooms took up one huge lateral branch, but if you were feeling sociable, you could venture into the central tavern, where music played, elves danced, and wine and ale flowed.

When Arabella and Thadius returned from scouting the boars, they met the others in a small bar on the second branch. It offered a pleasant view of Elarathon, looking out over the river that ran through the settlement.

As Vella had inferred, Intego, the elven scout, was a broody figure. His mousy hair fell over his face, pocked and scarred like he'd had a childhood disease he'd not recovered from. He hunched his shoulders; his back bent. He constantly played with his ale like he was nervous in company. "Be a dangerous task," he said, not lifting his head but staring from under his eyebrows. "Boars are unpredictable, especially the Amex. But you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

"Way too much," Josh agreed. "But we know they're dangerous. That's why we're here. Elowen, what did you find out?"

"Interestingly," she said, her pad in front of her and pencil in hand. She pushed her glasses up and looked over her notes. "What we are dealing with here is a family group more commonly known as a sounder. We have two sows, both huge and their piglets. I believe you must have killed one of the piglets from an earlier litter, of which only two survive. In total, there are two mother sows, two larger piglets, and six smaller ones. But please, don't regard smaller for anything inconsequential. They are still way bigger than a normal boar."

"So we have ten in all," Josh said.

"I have one concern," Thadius said, leaning back and cupping his hands behind his head. "We shouldn't discount the presence of a male boar. While we didn't spot him, it is rare for them to abandon the sounder entirely. Boars reproduce several times a year, so logic tells us that the male can’t be too far away. It may be that it's a little closer to the Hangsane and defending them from whatever threat drove them out. He could have died. But, whatever the plan, we need to add a contingency for him. If he comes to defend the family, he'll be huge and unhappy."

"Noted," Josh said.

Elowen twirled her pencil. "They sleep during the day, coming out at dusk, foraging through the night until first light. Most boars will eat anything, but the Amex prefers flesh. We witnessed multiple takedowns, with them working solo and in coordinated attacks. I deduce that they are above the expected intelligence for a boar."

"Territory?"

"Highly territorial,” Elowen said. “You can almost guarantee that if you launch a human into their territory late in the afternoon, they’re likely to attack.”

Josh eyed her up and down, looking along his nose for the slightest hint of sarcasm. It was there, her giggles bubbling under the surface. “What about a human and an elf?” he asked.

She burst out laughing. “That would do it. That would definitely do it.”

“Can we get on?” Thadius asked. “I, for one, don’t fancy getting launched anywhere.”

“Elowen?” Josh asked.

Elowen composed. “I suggest we approach with extreme caution. They have a keen sense of smell. But, while that is something worth being cautious about, it is also something we could turn to our advantage. If we wanted to lure them in a specific direction, that would be the way."

"Sight?" Josh asked.

"Particularly poor. Hearing and smell are the two we have to watch out for."

"So much for my camouflage get-up," Josh muttered to Arabella, who giggled.

Elowen frowned, sending the pair of them a look. "To the unique problems," she said. "Unless we can lure them to a place of our choosing, we can't guarantee a battlefield. They don't have dens or nests but roam their territory at night before seeking shelter during the day."

"So, no base to attack?"

"Nope. But we can track them easily. They leave a trail of destruction wherever they go, but each day, they sleep somewhere new, often building rudimentary beds."

"Any preference on prey?" Cassandra asked.

Intego scoffed. "Nothing they like better than tender, elven flesh. They'll ambush a horse given half the chance. What Elowen is failing to tell you is this. They are killers. They have no fear. Sure, they'll avoid a fight if they don't think they can win, but if you corner them, they'll fight until their last breath. The bastards are savages. You attack, then all ten of them will come, and they'll fight like crazy."

Josh inhaled hard. "I think the best way is to trap and kill them. We don't want to get into a pitched battle with them, nor do we want to risk things going sideways."

"What are we saying?" Thadius asked.

"We bait them, trap them, then Cassandra does her thing from a safe distance."

"Hardly honorable."

Josh turned to Elowen. "Best way to kill them?"

Elowen cleared her throat. "I don't know. The Amex has a tough hide. We saw no evidence that anything hurt them. You'd know more than us." She shrugged. "Piercing damage? Eyes, mouth, rectum, underbelly? These are all weak spots, but you have to get to them. They frenzy. The target will blur. Arrows will bounce off their skin. Trapping and slaughtering is the only sure way."

Josh nodded. "Then that's what we plan for. Cassandra, for each job we do, one of our specialist talents will become more important than any other. This is our first task, and it falls on you to come up with the winning formula. We need you to be able to create a pit on the fly, big enough that the boars run into it.”

“Just out of interest,” Thadius said. “Why on earth would the boars run straight into a pit?”

“Because, Thadius, they will be chasing something that has pissed them off so much that they won’t think straight.”

“And what might that be?” Thadius asked.

“Me.”

Thadius chuckled, a reaction Josh hadn’t expected.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Funny? Nothing. Well, something. I just thought that if you’d already had a tusk firmly inserted up your butt, the last thing you’d want was another one.”

Josh held a straight face while the rest of the table burst out laughing.

“I haven’t said who’s waiting in the pit yet,” he said, then joined them.

Chapter Eight

MAGICAL LIGHT BRUSHED the mighty trunks, highlighting their irregular ridges. Gnarled faces stared from hidden patterns, knots becoming eyes, nubs for noses. Darkness sucked at the magic, stealing its pure brilliance and leaving a cone around them as the party stole into the boars’ territory.

Cassandra led, but only because she lit the way, the magic emanating from the Everdeep staff. It was a thing of beauty. It had evolved, continued to grow, as Cassandra had. She and it were linked, and if its new brilliance was a measure of her power, then the witch was powerful indeed.

Josh followed, trying to be silent but cursing himself with every cracking twig and crunching leaf. While it was foolhardy to enter the boar’s territory at night, it was also necessary. If they were to attack the beasts during daylight hours, they needed to get close the night before. Fortunately, Intego, the elven scout, had a good idea where the boars were, so there was a great chance they’d avoid detection. Not that Josh was worried. There was something about Cassandra that infused him with confidence.

They’d all trained for several days while Cassandra perfected her spells with Simmalion. On the third day, the elven sorceress had handed her back the Everdeep staff, although it was doubtful she’d wholly cured Cassandra of her fragile temper. That fire was as much a part of her as her playful side, or her sensual one, for that matter. The witch would always be unpredictable, and Josh loved that volatility. After all, what wasn’t to like?

Simmalion announced that Cassandra had reached a point where the chances of her firing off a spell that might end the land were less than nine out of ten, which was acceptable. Admittedly, Josh would have liked the guarantee of success to be even higher. Simmalion had explained the various pitfalls of magic that contributed to the relatively high likelihood of what he could only describe as an extinction event. It was, of course, within the power of a harmonic to destroy all.

Apart from the obvious drawbacks of a fiery temper, other issues centered around a spell’s casting and its potential to have an entirely different outcome than that desired by the caster. Normally, it wouldn’t matter, but a harmonic was so powerful one slip-up could level a city. According to Simmalion, the casting was where a spell could go wonky, and it was all a matter of wording.

If, for instance, Cassandra mumbled, mispronounced, or got the spell entirely wrong, it would almost certainly go sideways. So, if she wished to form a giant pit filled with stakes, and she didn’t specify the sharp stick variety, it was possible that all she’d do was give the boars an enormous feast. The devil was in the detail.

Simmalion’s job was also to nudge Cassandra away from making a costly mistake that might have consequences beyond her immediate thinking—the so-called magician’s butterfly effect. She gave Cassandra an example, recalling the storm Cassandra had brought down on the colossus and how it might have filled the local river, the surge from it destroying a beaver dam, which caused an even larger surge. That rushing water might have picked up a ferry a little downstream and tossed it off a distant waterfall. On board the ferry, a prince might be meeting his true love for the first time. The prince could have died as a result of the ferry tumbling over the falls. The grieving king would then have blamed the true love’s father, who just happened to be a rival warlord. War probably resulted, causing famine throughout the land. Thousands died, resulting in a massive void in the center of both lands, filled by a tribe of marauding sailors.

While Cassandra understood this, she couldn’t quite believe her small storm had filled the land with seamen, but that was another case of words meaning more than one thing.

Her new confidence was why Josh wasn’t too worried about the boars. He wasn’t by any means underestimating them. Quite the contrary, he feared them, mainly because his recent gouging still replayed nightly in his mind. The boar’s feral hatred and utter commitment to his slaughter terrified him. But he was in charge and wouldn’t let fear get in his way, especially as Cassandra was capable of killing the beasts solo.

He'd witnessed her practicing—had seen her open great spiked kill pits. He watched as she sent magical bullets slamming into targets a hundred yards away. Cassandra worked with purpose, and that purpose wasn’t some grand desire to save the world but something much more straightforward. She wanted to help Josh achieve his ambition of becoming the best monster hunter in the land. The only thing that worried him was whether she was concerned Elowen’s acceptance into their harem might dilute her Josh time.

Strangely, Josh had yet to make love to Elowen. The time and circumstance hadn’t been right. Bringing someone into their family was special and needed to be perfect. Like he had with Arabella and Cassandra, he’d know when the time was right. Besides, he had a lifetime’s worth of unfinished business with Cassandra—and Arabella, for that matter.

That wasn’t to say that Elowen wasn’t playing on his mind. Quite the opposite was true. Whether it was the ring increasing his virility, the surging strength that affected every part of his body, or that beautiful women surrounded him, he couldn’t tell, but he suspected it was a combination of all three, heavily weighted to the girls.

Apart from a few stolen moments, he hadn’t really got to know Elowen, and he wanted friendship to be a foundation for his harem. Rather than just have a bevy of beauties he could fuck, he liked the idea of having friends he could sit with, go out and get drunk with, laugh and cry with, as well as screw to his heart’s content. But that wasn’t quite there yet like it had been with Arabella and Cassandra.

Elowen tugged at his jacket, pointing through a break in the canopy at a shooting star. She beckoned him close and whispered in his ear. “Is that another one of you?”

Josh watched it streak across the sky, then explode and rain down, sparkles lighting the sky.

“I fucking hope not.”

She chuckled. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Kind of ruined the moment,” he said.

“Quiet,” Thadius admonished.

“Busted,” he said as her grin flashed with moonlight.

Yeah, we’re not there yet, but we aren’t far away.

She still wasn’t quite sure what her best weapon was. She was okay with a sword—proficient being a good descriptor, but she didn’t excel. While most people would have been happy with being decent at swordplay, Elowen’s frustration spilled over. She liked to be the best, and while Cassandra would excel at magic, Arabella’s archery was becoming second to none, and Josh could turn his hand to anything because of the ring’s analytical excellence, she was average at every weapon she tried.

However, the final weapon she’d trained with was her favorite. It was an elven weapon, like a cross between a spear and a sword. It was as long as her arm, half its length taken up by a double-edged blade. String bound its round wooden shaft, making it a highly versatile slicing weapon and a great one for stabbing at mid-distance. Josh sensed that it would become her melee weapon of choice.

She also had a knack with a slingshot. The weapon had surprised Josh. It was more lethal than he’d thought, their elven tutor taking out a wolf at fifty feet with one shot. When they’d inspected the corpse, his stone had smashed clean through the skull. Elowen was a fine shot, picking it up quickly. Josh concluded she’d be pretty competent at it, just not good enough for her own standards.

Vella flitted through the forest with them. She followed the path sometimes, but others, she jumped from tree to tree, swinging on vines and using branches to spring her along. She rarely talked to the others, preferring her own company unless she spoke to Josh. Even then, she usually clipped her words short. Josh was sure it was nerves. He’d overheard her talking to other elves, and she never shut up. Perhaps he intimidated her, or maybe it was the girls. They were becoming a fearsome bunch. He wanted to pry her out of her shell. As she was, she wouldn’t be a good fit, even if they were desperate for a healer.

They continued to climb. Cassandra’s light brushed jagged rock and the leafy ferns of the tight ravine. Their boots slid on scree as they crept along the bottom of the storm run-off gulch. A wolf briefly barred their way, but one look at the party was enough to dissuade it from attacking. Or was it solely Cassandra, who walked like a woman who knew she was powerful? She had that aura of invincibility about her.

She crested the brief rise, approaching a narrow path leading them to a ridge. Intego took them to a small cave on the ridge’s eastern side, where he set a fire; its smoke sucked away through a hole in its ceiling. “We wait here until light. The boars are west of here. They won’t pick up our scent. I’ll take the watch. This is as far as I go. It is your task to kill them.”

Josh acknowledged that. He’d made the bargain, which hadn’t included any elven help. “Thank you.”

Elowen broke out some sandwiches, and Josh passed around his water bottle. Arabella snuggled close, resting her head in his lap. Cassandra needed no invitation to fall asleep and softly snored almost the instant she finished chewing her meal, stretching close to the fire. She liked her own space, enjoying her independence as much as their company. Shuffling across, Elowen pulled Josh’s arm around her, leaning in, resting her hand on his thigh.

“Good night, Josh,” she said, pecking him on the cheek.

Yes, we’re getting close…

Vella caught his eye. She sat cross-legged, her back against the cave wall.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Sad,” she said.

“Why sad?”

She shrugged. “Don’t know.” Then she screwed her face up. “Something missing. Not sure what.”

“I think you’re right. We’ll find out.”

“Can I come over?”

“Come over?”

“Sit with you?”

“You can,” he said.

She crawled over, lying in front of him and resting her head on his lap. “Something’s missing. Not you, though.”

“We’ll find it,” Josh said, but he had an inkling of what it was.

The oak forest stood still as if holding its breath and waiting for the battle to come. Josh crouched low, squeezing his eyes as he attempted to make out each of the boars. Thick undergrowth obscured his view, but the low rumble of sleeping boars snoring was unmistakable.

“Are they friends of yours, Cassandra?” Thadius asked, prompting a giggle from Arabella.

The witch turned; her face twisted into a scowl. “Are you saying I snore like a pig?”

“Well, you were rather loud in the cave.”

“You wanna croak like a toad, old man?”

Thadius chuckled. “That is an old tale. Witches can’t turn humans into frogs or toads.”

She closed one eye. “You sure about that? Are you really, really sure?” The emerald jewel atop the Everdeep staff glowed.

“Perhaps I am mistaken. Was it Josh who snored?”

“More likely,” said Cassandra.

“Not me,” said Josh. “I was with Elowen and Vella. I’d say it was likely you, Thadius.”

Cassandra pointed her staff at the old man. “Was it you?”

Thadius gulped. “Let’s say it was. We should hunt.”

“Yes, we should,” she said, grinning. “You’re lucky. I haven’t perfected my frog yet.”

Josh snuck closer. The thicket the boars hid in sat between two mighty oaks at the base of a tall rock overhang. They’d wanted to attack from the top, but the overhang had been too precarious, so Josh and Elowen had devised a new plan. “Okay, Cassandra, do your thing—as quietly as possible.”

“It’s hardly possible to tear a rent on the ground quietly, but I’ll do what I can.”

“Elowen, make ready with your slingshot. Arabella, nock an arrow. Just remember, these boars are as tough as anything. If you don’t hit an eye or mouth, they’ll just bounce off.”

Arabella pulled an arrow from her quiver, dipping its tip in a pot. “Purvein poison,” she said. “It will drop anything.”

Elowen popped a lead ball in her sling. “I’ll give it a go,” she said. “No poison here, though.”

Cassandra crouched, planting her staff, the Everdeep jewel shining. She chanted, drawing a line across the clearing with her pointed finger. A thin brown scar broke the grass, quickly becoming thicker, a long muddy heap forming like a rampaging mole scurried back and forth just below the surface.

“Come on,” she said, sweat beading her forehead as she pushed her hat’s brim up. “A little deeper.” She stopped, bringing her staff to bear—a fan of emerald light shot from it, hitting the pile. “And widen.” Beckoning the pile to her, Josh gasped as the ground yawned and a large, oval pit opened up, just a faint creak the only sound. She stopped, taking a breath. “Sorry. Gone a bit dizzy.” Pulling her staff back, she thrust it forward. “Calacatan!” A burst of radiant light flowed out of the staff, filling the pit, then bubbling over, forming a thick layer of mist. It settled over the clearing, curling into the undergrowth, its blanket dense and impenetrable.

“One more spell,” he said.

“I know.” Cassandra staggered back, closing her eyes and taking a breath. She leaped forward, planted her feet and shouted, “Wenver wane!”

A deep rumble followed. A crack rang out, like a mighty oak had split in two, like the land itself would tumble into Cassandra’s pit. Another crack, quieter yet somehow more ominous, filled Josh with dread as a noise, like heavy rain, signaled something much worse to come. A squeal then pierced the air, so shrill and full of panic that Josh immediately wanted to jump in—to prevent the destruction that he and Elowen had planned.

But there was no going back. Nothing he could say or do could prevent his aims from coming to fruition as the heavy rain morphed into the deadly growl of a full-on avalanche. The overhang fell, crashing down on the oaks, tearing off branches like twigs, stripping the oaks, throwing clouds of dust into the air. The single squeal became a chorus as the boars woke as one, racing from the mudslide, being consumed by it or pushed toward Cassandra’s pit, a tangle of rolling brown and cloven hoofs.

The mist belched forward in a ghostly wave, crashing over Josh and the others, blinding them, then racing through the forest behind them, dissipating, the magic gone. He opened his eyes, not realizing he’d shut them as the mist wall had swamped him. There was no pit left. The two mighty oaks lay partly buried with a mud slope between. He tried to step back, but couldn’t move his feet at first.

“I’m buried up to my shins,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Might I make a suggestion?” Thadius asked, pulling one foot out and leaving his boot behind.

“And what would that be?” Cassandra asked, swirling some magic around her ankles and levitating herself above the mudslide. She pointed to Thadius’ boot and pulled that out, too.

“You might want to turn your power down a notch or two. You appear to have removed the entire cliff.”

Arabella freed herself. “I don’t think you needed to put the spikes in the pit.”

“Nope,” said Elowen. “I think a cliff on the head does it every time.”

Thadius furrowed his brow. “I have never encountered a more dishonorable way of killing monsters in all my life.”

“But,” said Josh. “We’ve completed one quest without getting a scratch.”

“Irrespective—” Thadius fell silent, staring up the slope.

“Holy crap,” said Elowen.

“Going to need a bigger bow,” Arabella muttered.

“Without getting a scratch yet,” Cassandra corrected.

“Anyone else want to be the tank?” Josh asked.

Silence.

A boar stood atop the mudslide. Even from distance, its size was evident. Two huge tusks curled from its snout, ending in points that glinted in the sunlight. Its eyes blazed unnaturally like intense hatred filled it, the fires of its rage burning brightly within its head. Steam issued in great funnels from its snout as it dipped its head and hoofed the ground.

“I’d say we’ve located the male,” Thadius said, drawing his sword.

“I think you might be right, old man,” Cassandra said, taking her position just behind him.

“Definitely pissed off with you, Cassandra,” Elowen added, drawing her elven spearsword and standing by Thadius.

“Not sure these arrows will do much, but I’ll try and take an eye out if I can,” Arabella said, slotting into her place beside Cassandra.

Josh moved out in front, his light armor already on. “I think I might get changed for this,” he said, calling for his scale armor. He drew his sword, holding it aloft, and grabbed his shield. “I don’t suppose we could negotiate with it.”

Before any of them answered, the boar charged.

Chapter Nine

THE COLOSSAL BOAR thundered down the slope, launching mud and rock in a plume behind. Josh braced, in two minds whether to race out and meet it or hold his ground. Its eyes were burning with hatred, foamy slobber spewing from its open maw accompanied by an unearthly growl.

"If you've got a spell for this, now's a good time!" he shouted to Cassandra.

A blast of red-hot fire issued from the witch, rolling into a ball as it streaked toward the boar, its heat burning Josh’s cheek. It slammed into the charging beast, splitting and spreading over his matted fur. But the boar charged on, quickly passing through Cassandra's magic, the fire sliding off it like water on oil.

"It has arcane resistance!" Thadius shouted. “Your powers are useless against it.”

“Not quite useless, Old Man!” Cassandra retorted, brewing another spell.

"Elowen! Arabella! Start shooting," Josh screamed as the dread realization that he needed to engage became clear. "I'm up. I’m the only one that can stop it."

He gritted his teeth, leaning into the slope and marching forward. But it was futile. Even with his enhanced strength, he had no chance of stopping it. Their eyes met, chills running down his spine—memories of his last gouging flooding back, the beast’s singleminded assault like nothing he’d experienced before.

But as the memories replayed, so the bones of a plan came to him. The ring had analyzed the last battle and formed its own plans. Josh, on the other hand, was out of ideas.

“Go for it,” he muttered to the ring.

It adapted immediately, not taking over his body but driving his reactions as he prepared to enact the ring's crazy plan. He sheathed his sword, tensing, readying, then springing forward.

He picked up speed, his legs powering into the slope, forcing him forward as he gained momentum. The two foes closed, the distance between them narrowing at an incredible rate. Josh screamed, the battle cry coming from him and not the ring. He needed the courage that rushed from it, the spur to make him jump for the slathering beast.

He angled his run, the subtle arc barely noticeable, and he jumped, reaching out. At the last moment, the boar tried to react, craning his head to follow Josh, but Josh flew past, grabbing his closest tusk.

Josh’s arm snapped straight, swinging his body around as the boar surged past. He nearly overshot, his speed too great, but managed to hook his leg over, sitting astride the beast, bouncing, thumping into the creature’s back, barely able to hang on. But his grip was rock solid, squeezing the horn for all he was worth. It kept him in place as the scene blurred, and he prayed the others had scattered.

The boar let out a terrible squeal, trying to buck its body and throw Josh off, but his speed inhibited him as he crashed into the forest, flattening undergrowth and felling saplings, racing through at an incredible pace.

As they tore through the forest, Josh reached for his boot, drawing a knife from its sheath. He leaned forward, stabbing the blade into the boar's ear repeatedly. The boar squealed, skidding, swaying, its run becoming erratic.

Blood streamed from its wound as Josh reached forward, angling the knife and driving it into the boar's eye. It spasmed, ripping the blade from Josh's grip as its front legs collapsed, sending it tumbling forward.

Josh tried to jump free, but he and the boar were one, and as it rolled, the full force of its hurtling mass crushed him, snapping his lower legs and arms, crushing his nose into the mud, the vegetation flaying his skin from its broken bones.

They rolled, thumping into tree trunks, rebounding off, and smacking into boulders before suddenly falling through the air. They became an unstoppable force of utter destruction as they carved a wake through the forest.

Until they broke free, the forest receding, nothing but the air surrounding them.

The boar fell away, Josh finally letting go as he skimmed the meniscus between the conscious and unconscious. Pain streamed in from every extremity, only his torso escaping the boar’s pulverizing. Awareness came as he fell, cool air rushing past him, and he opened his eyes, not realizing he’d closed them.

A large black mass was a little below him, spinning as it fell. Then the boar was gone, and he could only see the blue sky as he spun as well. Sky, cliffs, river—sky, cliffs, river—the river grew larger, and recognition came to him. He closed his eyes again, helpless, a passenger, and then slammed into the water, his mind shutting down as every unprotected part of him shattered.

“Heal.” The word washed over him, its warmth bringing goosebumps over his skin.

“Renew,” Vella said softly. “Josh not too broken this time.”

He opened his eyes to see her staring down at him. “No, Josh not too broken this time. Can fix.”

She unslung her knapsack. “Have your clothes. Kept them like you asked. Found your sword and knife, too.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“Can change from your armor if you want. We’re safe here.” Her voice was soft and melodic, floating into him like a slow song.

Change out of my armor? He thought it was a good point and tried to rise but found he was still weak. “I won’t be able to dress.”

“I can dress you.”

“Err, well, thank you.” He dismissed his scale armor.

She lowered his head onto the rock, then vanished from view. “Think your bones are all mended, but body is weak. I must wait for more vigor and mana before I can help again.”

She tugged at his boots, pulling them off, lifting his leg, and slipping his pants on.

“Legs, arms and head all hurt. Rest is fine. All working.” Her hand cupped his balls. “All working, don’t you worry. Ready to couple with Elowen.” She sniggered, lifting his cock and inspecting it. “She’s lucky. Be screaming all night.”

Josh blushed, trying to regain his confidence but too weak to have any real power over the situation. “Your hands are so soft,” he said, knowing his was swelling.

“Soft,” she said. “Yes, soft.” She bent, then looked away. “Not mine to play with.” She pulled his ass up, slipping his pants up, then grabbing his hardening dick and tucking it away. “Maybe one day, but—”

“But something’s missing.”

“Yes.” She leaned him forward, pulled his jacket on, and sat him up.

They were on a rocky island in the middle of a raging river. Josh rested back against a small tree, its roots spreading around him as they dug into cracks in the rock. Moss capped most of the rock, doused constantly by the river spray. Across the torrent, cliffs rose to a lofty forest. It was gloomy, the night falling.

“Do you know where we are?” he asked her.

“Middle of the river. Three-finger gorge,” she replied. “Not much mana about. Can’t drain much, or all plants on rock will die.”

“Do you know where the others are?”

“Up there,” she said. “They can’t come, so we must go downstream.”

“What’s downstream?” Josh asked. Getting information out of her was hard. She answered each question but offered nothing extra. He sensed she was nervous—that she didn’t want to make a mistake.

“Endover. Small town, not so friendly but not too bad.”

Josh tried to stand, but Vella pushed him back down. “No. When I found you, you were broken. Need to rest while I fill with mana and vigor. You like fish?”

“I could eat.”

“I get fish.”

She stood, pulling off her tiny top. She turned. “Have you any magic?”

Josh’s jaw dropped open a little. He inclined his head and soaked in her beauty. Her breasts were a little smaller than he’d imagined. Not that he didn’t immediately want to bury his head in them or take her tiny nipples in his mouth and lick some life into them. They were perfect, just right for her, suiting her slight frame perfectly. Though not an ounce of fat sat under her skin, she still had curves usually associated with heavier-framed women. Abs rippled her flat stomach, her belly button a dark dot, a beacon to point him lower. His gaze lingered there as he mumbled his reply. “No magic, no.”

“I’ll make fire then.”

“I have a strike,” he said.

“We can manage, then.” She pulled down her skirt and stood before him, legs slightly apart. “You like Vella?”

Her pussy was completely hairless, the thin line of her slit neat, perfect in every way. “You’re beautiful,” he said, unable to conceal his throbbing boner.

“Thank you,” she said, then blushed and ran away, diving into the white water.

He gasped, unable to scrub the image of her delicious body from his mind. But there was one issue. She might be perfect, but she had to fit in with the other girls, and at that moment, she didn’t.

Pulling his legs in, he pushed himself to his feet, unsteady at first. The island was larger than he’d thought, a dozen or so trees surrounding a small inlet, grassy banks littered with detritus. He walked toward the inlet, tentative at first, not daring to let go of the tree trunk until another was within reach. His strength came back slowly, like it appreciated his efforts. Yet, despite the progress, he understood that his body must still be broken as he’d received no updates—no notification that he had progressed.

He selected a spot where they could hunker down for the night. Sheltered on three sides, it offered a relatively flat expanse of moss and grass, plus a rock shelf close by for their fire. He began gathering dry moss for kindling, then breaking small twigs over it. Then he rested for a while, recouping his breath before dragging over some dry flotsam, arranging it over the kindling and using the strike to start the fire.

Dusk encroached, and Josh became worried. Where the hell was Vella? He rose, retracing his steps and finding her skirt and top. “Vella!” he called but received no reply.

The river raged past. It was beyond him how she could battle its current. A sinking feeling swamped him. Had she been swept downstream? Was he alone? He picked up her clothes, scanning the river for her, expecting to see her body folded around a rock. But then something blocked his vision, and breath brushed his neck as her giggle filled his ears. “I’m back,” she said, pressing her naked body into him, her hands over his eyes.

Relief flooded through him. He spun around, her face upturned. “How did you swim in that?” he asked.

“Elves are good at swimming. Me very good. Am cold. Come. Let’s go to the fire.”

“I have your clothes.”

“Must dry first. Do you mind?” She pushed her groin into his, forcing her sex against his erection. “No, you don’t mind. Don’t mind at all.”

He grinned. “I very much enjoy looking at you.”

“Perhaps one day we can do more,” she said, leaving her subtle suggestion lingering between them. She left her hand trailing. Josh took it as she led him to the fire. A dozen fish hung from a vine, all pinned with large needles. “Was a long time as had to find needles, vines and nuts.”

“Nuts?”

“Shells for drinking.” She sat by the fire, shivering.

“You want my jacket?”

“Sit with me. That will warm me.”

He sat behind her, legs on either side, with his arms around her stomach. “Is that better?”

“Much.”

“Do you get on with the other girls?” he asked.

“Shy with other women. Cassandra powerful. Arabella pretends to be weak, but she is strong, too. Elowen scares me. She knows everything.”

“But none of them can heal like you.”

“No.”

“None can renew.”

“No.”

“And none can swim in rapids and catch fish.”

“No,” she said.

Then it struck him. “How did you find me?”

“Find you?”

“When I fell into the water.”

“Followed you.”

“But I fell off the cliff.”

“Yes.”

“So, how did you follow me?”

“Dove off the cliff. Told the others to meet us at Endover.”

Josh gasped. “You dove off the cliff?”

“Yes.”

He squeezed her tightly. “How can I ever thank you?”

She stretched and turned her head. “You could kiss me, or you could pass me a knife, and I’ll gut the fish.”

Josh couldn’t recall, but he thought it might be the first time he’d heard her speak without clipping her words.

“I could do both.”

“Yes,” she said and puckered.

Their lips met, gently at first, barely touching, then with more pressure as he reached around her with one hand while pulling the knife from his boot with the other. He broke away before his passion rose fully.

“That’s as much as I can offer you at the moment,” he said.

“Yes,” she said, reverting to her one-word answers.

“Look, it’s not that I don’t want, too. I do—I do very much. You’re sitting there. You’re stunning, and I like you—I like you a lot. But I’m building my harem with Arabella, which I must build on trust. If I did anything else with you, it would break that. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to be with us?”

She picked up her top and slipped it over her head. “Dry now.” Holding up her skirt, she grinned and winked at him. “One day.”

“Do you like the girls?”

She blushed, turning her attention to the fish. “Like them?” She shrugged. “They’re nice. Don’t know them like I know you.”

“I guess we’ve been through a lot together. We fought the sorcerer, the boar, and now this. It seems like we’re always getting into trouble.”

“Always,” she replied, skewering the fish and then cooking them. “I can only heal. Can’t fight. Can cook and heal, and sing—can sing. Like singing.” Vella glanced at him. “Why hunt monsters?”

“Because I know I’ll be good at it. People like Thadius have been doing it for ages but blindly fighting them—no planning, nothing. I believe I can eradicate them by creating a team, or I will certainly try.”

“Or to protect Arabella,” she said. “I think it’s to stay with her and look after her. Do you want to look after Elowen and Cassandra?”

He thought about it, and yes, that was it. It was the reason he hadn’t slept with Elowen yet. She didn’t have the same level of vulnerability as the other two—she didn’t need him—or at least hadn’t before. Perhaps that was why he’d fallen so hard for the other two. He’d got to know them through their vulnerability.

“Perhaps that was the start, but now they’re friends. That’s the most important thing.”

She handed him a fish skewer, then bit down on hers, blowing through the hot meat as it scorched her mouth. “Hot,” she said.

“Yes, you are,” he replied absently.

They looked at each other, both swallowing quickly before bursting out laughing. Their eyes met, and there was silent acceptance.

“We can be friends,” Vella said.

“Yes, we can,” he replied.

Chapter Ten

THE VOICE inside his head came. It told him of advancements in speed and agility, durability, and combat instinct. While happy to grow stronger, his repair had told him so much more. He was certainly more durable. Sure, the boar’s weight had shattered his arms and legs, but the ring hadn’t regarded it as catastrophic and hadn’t demanded a phased rebuild. It meant that the damage received couldn’t have been as bad as the last time. But he’d gained another point because they had broken. Therefore, he wasn’t durable enough. Speed and agility? He wasn’t quite sure why he’d received a point in that, but it was more likely that he’d allowed the boar to crush him rather than react in time. The last one? Well, it was fair to say that if he ended up getting crushed, then his or the ring’s plan was pretty poor.

His body was whole again, stronger than before, which was the most important thing. As he stood on the island’s bank, dawn breaking, the sky a burnished slit, he held Vella’s hand.

“It’s been surprisingly nice being stranded on an island with you,” he said.

“Nice—cold, though. Prefer bed.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

“Your bed busy. Mine lonely.”

“Well, we might have to see what we can do about that.”

She grinned. “Yes.”

He’d elected to wear his light armor for their trip downriver, judging it to offer decent protection while letting him retain buoyancy. Vella was naked apart from her knapsack, which held both their clothes and his belt and sword.

“You ready?” she asked, checking the vine that lashed them together.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He inhaled, not ready at all if he was honest with himself.

“Don’t think, just dive. Don’t fight the water. Fend off the rocks only with your body, never with your hands or snap-snap. Remember?”

“You’ve told me a thousand times. I’m wood carried by the river, nothing more.”

“Wood,” she said, and dove in.

Josh followed. His last sight was her pert ass and cute feet vanishing into the white water. The cold forced all the air from his lungs as the current swept him along. Vella flowed with the water rather than fight it, rarely vanishing under. He bobbed; his head dunked constantly. A boulder loomed. He stuck his arm out too soon, instinctively trying to push himself away—chastising himself for ignoring her repeated command.

Never stretch your arm, or the river will snap it in half! Snap-snap!

The next loomed, but Vella closed on him, somehow fighting the current. He careened towards it, a collision inevitable. But as he closed, so the river subtly altered its course, and he missed it by a few inches, swept along by the powerful current. Her arms closed around him, her body against his. “Relax,” she shouted.

He was anything but relaxed. Despite his hugely improved strength, he was powerless and feeble compared to the mighty river. They picked up speed, heading for a frothing, white split in the rocks. She laughed—laughed! The water picked them up, ejecting them like twigs, and sent them tumbling through the spray, crashing into a swirling pool, spinning before vomiting them toward another white spout. Vella’s laughter filled his ears, and he grabbed her waist, pulling her close. They quickened again, squeezed between another pair of boulders, nearly skimming the surface as the current thrust upward.

Time and again, they raced toward rock, cascaded down rapids or tumbled through turbulent cuts. Brief respite became his cue to gulp breaths. Any let-up in the constant battering welcomed but all too brief. Then, the river widened, but its edge vanished like it fell off the side of the world. A bad feeling gathered inside him.

“Not far,” Vella said.

“To where?” he asked.

But before she could answer, a current dragged them under, and another collected them, sending them hurtling along, surrounded by silver effervescence, helpless, mere passengers as they headed toward a riot of white foam, squeezed by its pressure, then suddenly free.

They were airborne, and Vella screamed, but not in fear, in absolute glee, as they fell toward a bubbling lake. Josh finally let a grin slide onto his face as Vella let go of him, slipping the vine knot and turning her fall into a majestic dive. Josh, not quite so elegant, bellyflopped into the water, his armor saving him from a load of broken ribs. He sunk under, glimpses of Vella’s milky form coming and going before he bobbed to the surface, laughing with relief.

“That was—” he said but couldn’t describe the feeling of exhilaration sweeping through him.

“Fun,” said Vella in her usual clipped way, which summed it up perfectly.

“This is where I caught the fish.”

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“And you climbed all the way back to me?”

“Would never leave you. You know that.”

He quirked his eyebrows as he realized she wouldn’t leave him, ever. “Yes,” he said.

“Yes.” She reached, grabbing his hand. “Come, swim, must get to Endover before night. Harpies around here. Harpies and spiteful fairies, too. Need fire and iron, or they’ll attack.”

“Fairies are vicious?”

She pursed her lips. “Not as bad as harpies.”

They swam the lake’s length, then rejoined the river, swept along by its current. It was a broad watercourse running over a pebble bed. Forests hemmed it in on both sides, great oaks leaning over it, stealing light. They swam. They held each other while the current carried them. At one point, Vella fell asleep in his arms, and he prayed they wouldn’t come across any rapids or another waterfall.

His stomach grumbled with hunger, the water’s chill sapping his energy. But when he suggested they stop, she shook her head and told him they had no time. Before he knew it, the day had passed, and the sun began setting over the western horizon.

“There!” she cried, breaking free of him and swimming.

Clusters of yellow flame lit up the near horizon. At first, the sheer length of it confused him. It was a line rather than individual torchlight. It was like Endover was on fire.

“Quick!” she shouted. “Getting dark. They will come!”

Spurred on by her urgency, he discarded his light armor and swam as fast as he could, though he barely kept up with Vella. Darkness fell, the torchlight still distant. He couldn’t understand her panic. Surely, fairies were nothing when compared to raging boars.

Then the sun finally set, the last of its rays painting the horizon orange. Those burnished fingers shortened, the sky quickly awash with stars, half a moon shining. A distant buzzing sounded over the river’s quiet burble.

They were close, the line of torch flame evident now, like candles on a grandparent’s birthday cake. Vella had said something about needing fire to fend off the fairies and harpies, but it had been Josh’s understanding that the harpy problem was merely a nest, not some permanent infestation.

Vella veered over toward the riverbank. She was panicked—there was no doubting that. She climbed the bank, crouching among the reeds and handing him his sword belt.

“Quick—keep armor on and run. Sword—draw sword. They come!”

He drew his sword and tossed her the belt. The buzzing sound grew louder. He clambered through the reeds out onto a pathway, long pasture on the other side. Vella ran for the village but hesitated. “No!” she cried.

“I smell elf!” a fairy spat.

It was around a foot tall, its iridescent wings casting a bluey-pink glow. The fairy was female, her face contorted with hunger and hatred. A bright blue mohawk topped her head, ears pointed and matching her sharp face. She held a small sword in each hand, her body like a human, apart from her size and the spread of her magnificent wings.

Another swooped past as Josh’s perception went haywire, flashing all three colors. Red meant physical damage was likely. Mauve warned him of the presence of hostile magic, while blue told him of poison attacks. It was enough to spur him into action.

He raced for the first fairy, slashing at her. She countered, holding her blades crossed to catch his. Either she didn’t understand physics or hadn’t expected the ferocity of his attack, but his strike cleaved her blades open and sliced her clean in two. She fell to the path, halved, blood and guts spewing.

“You’ll pay for that,” growled another from behind.

“Run!” he cried.

Vella needed no second invitation, racing toward the town’s stockade. Josh glanced over his shoulder and immediately wished he hadn’t. The air glowed with the massed ranks of twenty-odd fairies. As far as he could tell, there were three types: bluey-pink, sinister green, and blood-red.

Another bluey-pink fairy darted past, launching a spear at Vella’s back. It struck her, sending her stumbling forward, the spear hanging out of her. Despite its size, the fact that the fairy had struck Vella infuriated Josh. He chased the fairy down, but she banked hard, flying high, another spear appearing in her hand. She threw it at Josh. He easily swerved it, swiping his sword at her just as a mauve warning highlighted an incoming magical attack from behind. A blast of emerald fire struck him in the back, its flame spreading to his neck, singing his hair.

He stumbled on, turning as he ran, assessing the distance to the town’s gates. Vella had little chance of making it, but he was too far away to make a stand.

“Okay, ring,” he muttered, “let’s see what you got.”

He dropped his shoulder, racing forward as fast as he could. He drew beside Vella, grabbing her by the waist and lifting her from her feet. “Grab hold,” he said as he raced for the gate.

More magical blasts hit him. Spears rained down on him, but he powered on, closing on the gates as the fairies closed on him. The first sounds of commotion rose from Endover. A bell tolled. Josh raced the last hundred yards, hammering on the gate and dropping Vella.

A shutter opened. “We can’t open the gate while the fairies are so close!”

“I’ll lead them away!” Josh cried back, dismissing his light armor and swapping it for his scale. He raced away, straight into a swarm of fairies.

Ignoring the pain, the attacks and the multi-colored warnings, Josh sliced the air with his sword, unable to miss at first. The fairies dropped all around him, crunching under his bare feet. A spear struck him in the neck. He swatted it away. Another hung out of his calf. Dizziness came and went as his heightened durability dealt with their poison.

“Who are you?” one spat.

“Why won’t you die?” another moaned, launching a blast of emerald magic at him.

“Because I’m your worst nightmare,” Josh spat back.

He lunged forward, taking two more out, but they just increased the size of their circle. Out of his range, they threw their spears, muttered incantations and shot tiny arrows at him as they tried to wear him down. The gates creaked open, soldiers spilling out, grabbing Vella and dragging her in. The thud of their closing told him he was doomed unless he could figure out a way to kill them.

A screeching sound filled him with dread. It streaked across the night sky like lightning, so palpable that it might well have been filled with light as well as sound. It struck fear into him in a way he’d never experienced before. Sure, he’d felt terror, but never in every nerve in him—never from his toes right to the top of his head. He instantly wanted to run—to fall on his sword and avoid the horror that could make such a noise—that could infuse fear into one of the bravest men the land had ever seen.

The fairies, rather than be cowed, clapped and laughed. They pointed at him.

“You’re fucked, fairy killer!” a blood-red one said, shooting an arrow at him for good measure.

“She’ll tear you limb from limb,” said an emerald one.

“She’ll bite his cock off and stick it up his ass,” said a bluey-pink one.

Josh wanted to retort—to tell them he wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone. But he knew that wasn’t the case. Fear was real. It was vital. It kept you on your toes. But this fear—he’d never known anything like it.

The scream shattered the sky again. Behind him, Endover fell silent.

Josh gulped, seeing it now, knowing that the dirty red light racing toward him was the source of the terrible noise. His sphere of perception pulsed, all three colors brighter than they’d ever been. Even the fairies fell silent, their gloating coming to a stop as they turned and faced the onrushing creature.

“Who’s coming?” Josh asked—a sudden kinship struck up with his recent enemy as they all faced the horror together.

“Esmeralda,” one said. “Esmerelda is coming.”

Chapter Eleven

THE HARPY FANNED her bat-like wings, frayed red skin stretched over skeletal bones that rose to blunted points. Her body hung as if crucified, scarred and pocked, hideous in its nakedness, with breasts lying flat and deflated on her ribs, those bones barely covered by crusted skin, probably once a regal red but faded to scarlet gray.

She landed, however, with a certain grace, coming to a stop with three lengthy paces. Her legs, the most athletic part, boasted defined muscles, as did her arms, raised above her head in a display of elegance so at odds with the rest of her. Her withered wings remained spread despite her need to slow having ended. Her fanned wings were, Josh concluded, a display of her power, much like a cobra might flare its throat. Or perhaps it was a stance to show off what she might consider her voluptuous body when the reverse was true. Esmerelda was an abomination. Even her pussy disgusted him, pubic hair hanging like an old man’s beard, spotted with flesh like yesterday’s meal still lingered.

She craned her long neck, her face a mix of hatred and intrigue. Her ugliness ended there, for she had the look of a once attractive woman. Though twisted through an age of scowling, there was no denying her gaze still had a seductive sparkle, and her lips would have once stirred the loins of even the most religious zealot. Those eyes were aquamarine, and her lips had a matching hue, with ragged hair of a similar color hanging as if it had long given up the fight to be considered full of life.

But when she peeled back her lips and revealed her brown and rotten fangs, all the redeeming work her once beautiful face had toiled to achieve was undone. Breath, fresh from a village latrine, wafted over Josh as she finally broke her silence.

“Two choices, young adventurer. I take you back to my nest where you must fuck me and my sisters to within an inch of our lives, or you die right here, right now.”

Josh didn’t reply straightaway. Instead, he tried to determine where her poisonous attack might come from. He reasoned that poison needed to be injected into his skin, unlike a spell that needed no contact. It had to be either her feet, which boasted yellow talons, the tips of her wings that looked sharp enough to slice through flesh, or her teeth. He discounted the latter as one decent bite would probably see them crumble.

But before Josh could answer, a blast of white magic enveloped Esmerelda, crackling over her vomitous form. The harpy screamed in pain, wrapping her wings around her as the magic dripped to the ground. Josh looked around. Cassandra stood in the town’s watchtower, the Everdeep staff in hand. Her eyes closed, the staff’s jewel glowing, as she conjured another spell.

Esmeralda lifted her bowed head, the magic completely gone, and an evil, twisted grin formed on her voluptuous lips. “If you can’t decide, I’ll decide for you. Magic, even that of a harmonic, has little effect on me.”

Josh’s sphere of perception pulsed blue, yet he could see no evidence that the harpy would attack. She drew back her head and opened her mouth. As she breathed her fowl breath over him, the memory of airborne attacks returned. Her laughter rang in his ears as his knees collapsed. But he didn’t fall. Instead, she scooped him up and flew away, the oaks far below him as he shut his eyes.

He woke but didn’t open his eyes. Female chatter filled his ears, high-pitched arguments continuing.

“Boil him and eat him, I say,” said one voice—the roll of a gravelly throat accompanying her words.

“Why not make him perform for us first? I haven’t had a decent-sized cock in an age,” said another, her voice softer, almost melodic. He named her Softvoice.

“Because he has power. His armor vanished, sucked into his body. And then there’s the ring. It still sits there. I can’t get it off.” Josh recognized that voice as Esmerelda.

“You haven’t got anything off in a hundred years,” said Softvoice as she dissolved into cackling laughter.

“So we boil him. If you want his cock, have it on a plate,” said Throaty, and her rasping laugh followed.

“Stick a skewer up its hole and use it how you will,” said another, her voice bland and uninteresting.

“But,” a seductive voice curled into him. “we haven’t had a slave worth his food tally in a long time. True, Esmerelda, he has power. But I sense huge virility. He could be a breeder.”

“A breeder?” said Softvoice.

“A breeder,” repeated Bland.

“My tits are long dried up,” said Throaty. “Time has sucked all my milk away.”

“Mine too, but his issue will restore us,” Esmerelda said. “We could be young again.”

“He wakes,” said the seductive one.

“He does, Dominica,” said Softvoice. “And his cock is magnificent.” A hand wrapped around him, lifting his length as a finger stroked him. “His essence will be powerful. If he can restore us, we could go home.”

“We could fight Ravenheart. We could regain our lands,” Dominica said.

Hot breath traveled up his body as Softvoice trailed her sharp nails across his stomach, over his chest and neck. Her lips briefly touched his, her breath sweet, nothing like Esmerelda’s foul issue. “Is your cum potent, adventurer?” she asked.

“His cum is potent, Fayer,” said Dominica. “Esmerelda did well bringing him here.”

Josh opened his eyes, knowing a hideous abomination would face him. His world was blurred like a skin covered his pupils. It slowly cleared, a face resolving, but rather than an abomination, deep crimson eyes stared into his.

Fayer’s melodic voice then whispered, “Is your cum potent?”

She was young-looking, her face rounded, skin flawless, her nose slightly upturned. Her mouth hung slightly open, as if encouraging a kiss. Josh’s gaze flitted past her to where Esmerelda sat with another older harpy. But Fayer’s extended finger steered his cheek and gaze back to her.

“Answer me, adventurer. Does your cum bring the gift of life?” She grinned, her teeth even and pointed. “Will it renew my sisters?”

He wanted to tell her it wouldn’t be going anywhere near her sisters, but he felt he had little choice in the matter, being naked and lashed to a pole. “It’s highly poisonous,” he said, to a chorus of cackling laughter.

The harpy nest sat in a dip, a small duckweed-covered pond in its center that fed a tiny stream. There were four of them that Josh could see, but he’d heard five. Two were old—Esmeralda and the one he’d named Throaty. Softvoice, whose name was Fayer, was the youngest, and there was no denying she was beautiful.

She stepped back, stretching her wings and lifting her arms over her head. Her crimson hair fell in tumbling curls over her pert breasts and down to her slim waist. A breeze brushed him as she fluttered her wings, her breasts bouncing. She laughed, spreading her legs slightly to reveal more of her fiery pussy. Even in his revolted state, he felt his cock stirring, thoughts of her wings wrapping around him as he thrust into her, their nubbed edges raking his back, her sharp fingers scratching his butt. It was those wings that revealed the most about her vitality. Their skin was vibrant, a lattice of veins pumping blood through them, and muscle covered each bone. Fayer’s power was without question, but one did remain.

If she was young and powerful, why had Esmeralda been the one to trap him?

“You are very beautiful,” he admitted. “But I cannot mate with you.”

“Why?”

“I have a quest to cleanse these lands of you. How can I know that and make love to you at the same time?”

Esmerelda cackled, her laughter bordering on insanity. “Make love? We don’t make love. We take your issue and use it to keep our youth or foster new children.”

He creased his brow. “Isn’t that a succubus?”

Dominica laughed then. “I like him. He’s funny. A succubus is our demonic form. Where do you think they come from?”

Josh composed. “Nevertheless, I have a quest.”

Fayer retreated some more, sitting upon a rock and spreading her legs, her fingers traveling down. “We could persuade you to forget that quest. Or would you prefer Esmeralda to cook you so we can feast on your flesh?”

“Who is Ravenheart?” Josh asked. “Who is he that he ran you from your lands?”

“Ravenheart?” asked Dominica. “Ravenheart is the devil walking these lands. He is the shadows. He is the night. All fall before him. All die when he flies.”

“Ravenheart will be the death of us all,” said the fifth harpy, the one he’d named Bland. She walked into his view, as plain as her voice suggested, but her look sent shivers through him. Her eyes were devoid of emotion, as blank as her voice.

“I’ll try another tack. What is Ravenheart?”

“He is crow. He is a ghost. But you humans know him. You spike his effigy in your fields to scare off the birds,” said Bland.

“He’s a scarecrow?”

“Bigger than a roc, more spiteful than a dragon, Ravenheart is the king wherever he nests. He likes nothing more than an absence of everything wherever he lives.”

Something didn’t add up. “If he’s part crow, why call him Ravenheart?”

Dominica came into view. “Why do you care what he is called? Your death awaits you here.”

“Then there’s no harm telling me.”

“After his favorite meal. They say ten thousand dead ravens litter the ground under his nest. They say he only eats their hearts,” Fayer told him, then threw back her head and moaned as her fingers blurred.

“Enough!” Esmerelda shouted. “It is time. Eat him or fuck him. Make up your mind!”

“I vote eat,” said Throaty. “Even if you decide otherwise, I’ll get my wish before the night’s out.”

“Slice him and dice him, fuck him as he bleeds, then eat him as he wails,” said Bland with unaccustomed enthusiasm.

“Kill him!” a tiny voice shouted, drawing Josh’s eyes to a grassy ledge. “He sliced Uthoria in two.”

A fairy sat upon the ledge, her legs crossed, emerald wings glowing. Another landed next to her, bluey-pink wings fluttering. “Chopped Methril’s head off, he did,” she said as another flew down, crimson wings folded around her torso.

“Kill him, and we’ll trap another,” said Crimson.

“None of the others have this one’s virility,” Dominica said, rising, walking around and facing Josh. She cupped his balls. “I can feel the power in him. I want it inside me.”

Like Fayer, Dominica was stunning. A little older, she carried her age well, her body more rounded, her manner more confident.

“Kill him!” one of the fairies screamed.

“No!” Dominica shouted. “Esmerelda is old. She needs a youth infusion. Cressida is on her last legs. She must drink from him to live longer. These lands are no good for us. Something about them makes us wither.”

“I will help you,” Josh said softly. “I will help you,” he repeated with more conviction.

“You, help us? How?”

“I will slay Ravenheart.” Josh didn’t know quite what to expect from his proclamation, but howling laughter wasn’t it. His anger grew. His strength gathered. “Take your hand off my balls,” he said, his voice ice-cold.

“I’m sorry?” Dominica said. “I think you are mistaken who is in charge here.”

“No,” he said. “It’s you that’s got it wrong.” He yanked his arms, ripping the ropes from their binding and bringing them over her head, jerking his knotted wrists toward him, the rope sliding under her throat. “You got it very, very wrong.”

“No!” screamed Fayer, jumping up, grabbing a spear, and throwing it. Josh summoned his scale armor, ducking behind Dominica and spinning her body to face Fayer. A dull squish preceded a thump to his gut, but her spear didn’t penetrate his armor. Dominica belched blood, the weapon sticking out of her belly. Josh twisted Dominica’s head, snapping her neck and letting her fall.

“What have you done?” cried Bland, a long blade appearing in her hands. “Looks like the pleasure will be all mine.”

Josh didn’t hesitate, not fearing the blade, knowing he could heal. He lunged toward her, drawing back his fist as she finally grinned and lifted her blade. His punch swept past her swing, snapping her head back and sending her staggering into the pond.

“No!” she screamed as her blade flew into the air, knocked from her grasp. Josh grabbed it, lifted it high, and stroked it across Bland’s belly, her guts spilling over the duckweed. Bland stared at him as she tried to gather her coiled guts up, but her eyes rolled back, and she slowly sank to her knees, then splashed face down in the pond.

He planted the long blade in the pond’s muddy bank and pulled the spear from Dominica’s gut, launching it at Throaty in the same instant. The force lifted Throaty from her perch, knocking her back and pinning her to a mud and flint wall, a crown of grass falling upon her head. Esmerelda jumped up, exhaling, her poisoned breath wafting over Josh. He staggered back, expecting his consciousness to fade, knowing he’d had his chance and had blown it. That was why they’d sent the old hag against him. She was the only one with that skill.

Dizziness took him. He staggered back as Fayer raced forward, a dagger in hand, her gorgeous face twisted in anger. But his mind cleared, and unconsciousness didn’t come. An image of frantic bots purifying his blood sprang into his mind.

“Doesn’t work on me twice, Hag,” he said with a grin, and he grabbed Fayer’s arm, pulling it to him as he headbutted her right on the bridge of her nose. Her nostrils exploded, blood splattering him.

Bringing up his leg, he held her outstretched arm, then brought it down on his knee, snapping it in two. Fayer screamed, but Josh was too far gone to worry about it. He punched her once, twice, multiple times, reducing her once beautiful face to mush before she fell limp at his feet. His gaze locked on Esmerelda. “You should have taken my offer.”

“You can’t beat Ravenheart. He is the ultimate killer. He will always prevail.” She lifted her wings.

“But I can kill you!” he growled, lost to his red mist.

“You’ll have to catch me first, and you can’t fly.” She cackled and beat her wings, lifting off the ground.

Josh dove for her, changing from his scale armor to mail. Flapping harder, she tried to escape, but he caught hold of her foot, swinging from it as she rose. He grabbed her with his other hand, his grip solid, her foot over his upturned face.

Man, what is it about toenails in this place? And that minge! It looks like a gutted badger!

He climbed her leg, punching her right in the pussy, an explosion of wet splashing out. She grunted, so he punched again, climbing high enough to land a hit to her gut. They began to fall, their combined weight too much for her. She kicked at him, nails raking his face.

But Josh wasn’t in the mood to give up. He pounded and pounded her gut. His punches were weak. He had no purchase. But even weak punches eventually take their toll. Esmerelda screamed, her wings folding upward, their old, brittle bones breaking as they plunged toward the ground. Josh pulled her down, rolling her under him just as they slammed into the ground. Esmerelda’s body burst as he crashed down on her.

“No!” cried the three fairies. “Attack, sisters!”

Josh scrambled up, switching his mail armor for scale as the fairies threw their spears, shot arrows, and sent their magic his way. But he had the beating of them, and he had it for one simple reason. Orange light peaked over the distant horizon. The morning had come. They would fizzle, smoke and die.

“Ladies,” he said, ducking their projectiles. “I know we got off on the wrong foot, but if I kill Ravenheart, will you go back over the Hangsane?”

The fairies sent more spears his way, shooting more arrows until one fairy raised her tiny hand. “Hold up, girls!” She flew forward, keeping out of his reach. “You really could kill Ravenheart?”

He stopped ducking and straightened. “I’m willing to give it a go, but someone will have to show me the way.”

She kinked her head, her blue hair hanging in a curtain, pointed ear popping through. “I can show you where he nests.”

“What’s your name, beautiful?” he said, turning on his charm.

“Lyra,” she said, blushing.

“Well, Lyra, here’s my deal. My monster hunting team and I will enter the Hangsane, kill Ravenheart, and allow you to return home on three conditions. First, you must lead us to him. We’ll want no help, just take us there. Second, you must take me back to Endover. Do we have a deal?”

She scrunched her face up. “You said three things.”

He grinned. “Oh yes, three things. I want to give each of you beautiful young ladies a kiss to seal our deal.”

“A kiss? Why would you want to kiss us? We’ve only been horrible to you,” she swooned, her arms clasped together, cheeks rosy.

“That is true, but wasn’t it the evil harpies that drove you to attack me and Vella in the first place?”

A whole host of fairies gathered around him, all nodding and muttering their agreement.

“They did,” said Lyra.

“And I was within my rights to defend myself, but even then, I hated killing such beautiful creatures as you.”

“You were,” they all said. “They would understand.”

“So, do we have a deal?”

“We do,” Lyra said, nodding furiously and puckering.

Josh bent and kissed her.

“My turn!” said a bluey-pink one.

“Hold one. One more thing. Could you collect the harpy heads for me? I have to prove they’re dead to get my bounty. Then you must fly away before the sun burns you.”

“The sun doesn’t hurt us. We just prefer the night,” said the bluey-pink one.

“We’ll carve their heads if you tell us the name of your monster-hunting team,” Lyra said.

He kissed her again. “Two kisses for you, and we call ourselves The Misfits.”

“The Misfits,” she said, drawing her knife and swooping on Fayer. “You want me to leave the neck on?”

Josh considered it. “Just the head, please.”

“Just the head it is, sexy,” she said and winked.

Chapter Twelve

JOSH only just managed to drop the harpy blade as Vella burst from Endover’s open gates. She launched herself into his arms, peppering him with kisses. “You saved my life!” An arrow fizzed past them. Lyra swerved out of the way. “A fairy?” Vella growled.

“She’s on our side now,” Josh told her. “Lyra, you’d best get off. Remember, look out for the blue and red lights in the sky.”

Lyra sighed and dodged another arrow. “I know. You have to complete another quest before you kill Ravenheart.”

Josh grinned. “I must do everything in order to get strong enough to take him on.”

“You want help with the trolls?” she asked. “I can sneak into places you never can.”

“I’ll talk to the others,” he replied as a third arrow thudded into the mud.

“Well, you know where I am.” Lyra flew away, sparkles trailing from her.

Vella jumped down, and Arabella rushed into her place. “You’re alive! The cowards here wouldn’t even search for you, and we had no idea where to look.”

“It was a mini adventure.” He kissed her long and hard, then set her down, reaching behind and picking up his sack full of heads. “But we completed the harpy quest. I kind of killed all of them.”

“You left none for me?” Cassandra said, grabbing him, pulling him into her embrace and thrusting her groin into his. “Darling, I’ve missed you. You have no idea how tedious an elven town is without a good boner to distract me.” She planted her lips on his, her tongue invading his mouth with unfettered urgency. “It’s time for more of me, you and a rock-hard cock.”

“Well, fortunately, my boner is in one piece, although at one point, it nearly went into their cooking pot.”

Elowen grabbed his hand. “Come on in. It’s nearly dusk. Have you eaten?”

Thadius stood in the gate, a wry grin on his face. “I’m glad you made it, Josh. These four have been testy in your absence. They missed you somewhat.”

“Well, I didn’t hang around. I got here as fast as I could.”

Vella offered him her knapsack. “I kept your clothes and boots safe and got your sword in our room. Oh! I’ll run ahead and get you a bath drawn. Are you hungry? Did someone already ask?” She raced off without waiting for an answer.

“What did you do to her?” Arabella asked. “She swears you two never had sex, but she’s besotted with you.”

Josh paused. “What’s not to like?” he asked and flashed her a grin. “Plus, I suppose saving her life from the fairies helped.”

“It’s more than that,” Cassandra said. “I swear the girl is in love. She’s been trying her hardest to be friendly with us.”

“I like her,” said Arabella. “She’s cute. She offers us something, and she loves Josh.”

“I like her too,” said Elowen as she grabbed Josh’s hand. “But it’s my turn next. She’s not pushing in front.” She kissed his hand, holding it against her breast.

“Didn’t say I didn’t like her,” Cassandra replied. “I find her a little skitty—yes, skitty.”

“See what I mean?” Thadius said. “They don’t stop. New harems are tiresome to be around.”

“Nonsense,” said Arabella. “You’re just a grumpy old man.”

“Did I deny that?” Thadius said. “So, Josh, ale and some food or a bath and whatever that leads to.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Young harems!”

“I’d like all three, but the truth is, I haven’t eaten or slept for two days. I’m starving, and I could sleep for a week.”

He was running low on stamina. No matter how advanced the tech, the ring couldn’t make something out of nothing. Once he’d killed the harpies and struck his deal with the fairies, he’d set his sights on returning to the girls and forgotten all else, striding to Endover without stopping.

“I could have both brought up to our bedroom. We have the whole room to ourselves,” Arabella said.

“No, as long as I don’t smell too bad, I’ll drink some ale, eat some food, and tell you everything.

“We have a pact with the fairies?” Thadius said as he leaned back on his chair and considered all that Josh had told them.

Josh finished his meal, shoving one last piece of bread in his mouth. “I feel quite sick,” he said with a huge grin. “Totally worth it.” He slurped some ale. “Yes, but like I said, I promised to kill the Ravenheart character, and he sounds quite powerful.”

Thadius inclined his head. “You killed five harpies on your own while starting out tied to a post. I would say you’re reasonably powerful yourself, you know.”

“A bit more than reasonably,” Cassandra pointed out.

“And,” Thadius continued. “Cassandra is controlling her magic much better, although she did have one relapse.”

“What did you do?” Josh asked.

“I might have flattened Endover’s military garrison when they refused to send out a search party to find you.”

He laughed. “Right and all. They should have. Why wouldn’t they want to find me?”

Thadius closed his eyes momentarily. “I still can’t believe this, but rather than fight the harpies and fairies, they hid behind their walls and refused to come out after dark. They refused to even come to your aid, frightened of five or six harpies and a fairy gang.”

“Wouldn’t even open the gates to let us out,” Arabella said.

“They don’t make elves like they used to,” Thadius said. “I remember Thigovian the Second. Now, he was a brave elf—the bravest.”

“Typical dad thing to say. Don’t make elves like they used to!” Arabella said and chuckled.

“Well, they don’t. So, Josh, it’s Ravenheart that’s driven the monsters from the Hangsane?”

“According to the fairies and harpies.”

“And Arabus,” Cassandra said. “Don’t forget him. His mother fought with something. I’ll bet it was Ravenheart.”

“What does your gut tell you, Josh?” Thadius asked.

“That if we don’t kill Ravenheart, then more monsters will flee the Hangsane. Perhaps he will come here, thinking it’s easy pickings.”

Thadius nodded. “Very perceptive—and another key element of monster hunting. Never duck a fight—they only get bigger. Now, another point: everything will wait a day. I suggest you go and have your bath, catch up with your sleep and whatever else you need to catch up on and take tomorrow off.”

“There’s one more thing,” Josh said. “Lyra has offered her help in leading us to Ravenheart and also in the troll attack.”

“Lyra?”

“The fairy, Dad!” Arabella shook her head, rolling her eyes.

“Very naked fairy,” Elowen said.

“I don’t think we need to worry about her nakedness,” Josh pointed out. “She’s like two feet tall.”

“So, a fairy is offering to join the team? What type?” Thadius asked.

“Emerald.”

“So, magic then.”

“She might be useful,” Josh said.

Thadius scratched at his beard. “Possibly. However, the problem with fairies is complex. They are, by nature, flighty. Their minds wander, and they get bored. Their meddling is often linked to good and bad luck, which are simply random outcomes. We will need to look closely at her motives before we allow her to join us.”

Josh waved his concerns away. “She just likes getting kissed.”

“Getting what?” said Arabella, Cassandra, and Elowen together.

“Did you just say what I think you said?” Thadius asked.

Josh woke, keeping his eyes closed as he tried to guess.

He’d had his bath, and that, along with his substantial meal, had ended any chance of some loving. His virility had taken a pounding, and he needed to recoup. But the ring was special, and a night’s sleep on top of a hearty meal was all he needed. A notification blinked in his mind’s eye, but that wasn’t what he was trying to guess.

It was much more challenging than that and one of three possibilities.

He thought the hand grabbing his throbbing cock was too small for Cassandra, and the hair draped around his groin wasn’t long enough for her either. He wanted to grab hold of the head that bobbed up and down but felt that might be cheating. However, he had to discount one of the three, so he eliminated Cassandra.

In every single sexy dream he’d ever had, he’d never imagined he’d be in a position where he’d be attempting to guess which one of three beauties was giving him a good morning blow job. Three, not four—he’d automatically discounted Vella because she wasn’t in his harem yet, although that was becoming a very gray area.

She’d peppered him with kisses when he’d returned to Endover, then ran off to prepare his bath—done everything a wife would do. She’d also made massive strides getting on with Cassandra, Elowen and, most importantly, Arabella. It was a conversation in the waiting, both with her and Arabella. Vella hadn’t yet committed to joining their monster-hunting troupe.

He settled, however, on either Arabella or Elowen. His breath became shallow as the mystery blower moved her mouth slowly up and down his shaft, her tongue lingering, probing his slit and licking around his crown’s rim. She ran her tongue along the length of his shaft, then over his balls, sucking his entire scrotum into his mouth. Her hands maneuvered his legs up, allowing her to lick the sensitive skin between his rectum and balls. Josh groaned in ecstasy, the tip of her tongue so flighty, flicking over his sensitive skin, teasing him as his throbbing knob demanded attention.

“That’s nice, baby,” he said. “That’s so damn good.”

She strayed lower, licking his anus, scooting around his rim, probing gently while one hand grabbed his shaft and began pumping him.

While he wanted to focus entirely on his pleasure, he couldn’t help but think her foray to his anus pointed to the mystery woman being Elowen. She was, after all, an archaeologist, so she was bound to go where no one else had ventured. The thought made him snigger, which he quickly masked with a moan.

Sucking on his balls one last time, she focused back on his dick. Josh settled on Elowen, opened his eyes and threw the covers back. Elowen’s head sat nestled between his legs. He grabbed her hair, lifting gently, looking into her eyes as she held his dick in her mouth. “A fantastic way to wake me,” he said. “But I want you under me. I want us to consummate this harem.”

She let his cock go with a pop. “Was it good? Cassandra told me what to do. Did you enjoy it?”

“I did, very much. If you’d have carried on, I’d have cum in your mouth in moments.”

“I’d have liked that,” she said. “I want to taste you. Did you like me licking your ass? Did I do that right? Cassandra said it was your favorite thing.”

“She did?” He raised his eyebrows. “It was, err, fantastic.”

“I’ll get better. Cassandra says you have to go deeper each time.”

Did she really?

Josh took a breath, not sure what to say. He certainly didn’t want to discourage her, nor did he want to mislead her. He also thought it might be wise to speak with Cassandra, although whether he’d thank or admonish her was another matter.

He pulled Elowen up, feeling her nakedness against his for the first time. “It was great,” he said, kissing her to reassure.

“Where do you want me?” she asked.

“First time?”

She giggled. “A lot of first times for me. I’d never even kissed a boy until I met you.”

“Too much studying?”

She bit her lip. “Do you mind that I’m not that experienced? I’m a fast learner.”

“Mind? I’m honored, Elowen, absolutely honored.”

Their lips met again as he spun her around, laying her on her back and spreading her legs apart. He knelt between them, his dick rock solid and glistening from her spit. Dipping his head, he kissed her stomach. “Gotta lube you up a bit, baby. It’s going to be tight down there.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, grabbing, pulling, then changing her mind and pushing him down. His tongue trailed over her pubic strip, then rested at the top of her slit. He maneuvered her legs over his shoulders, then lowered his mouth over her silken sex. She smelt of lingering arousal, her pussy already soaking.

“I see you got a head start,” he said.

“Sucking your dick was such a turn-on. Oh gods! Oh!” she moaned as his tongue began probing her.

It slipped in, her entrance so tight he could barely force it all the way in. He slowly slid to the top of her, probing under her hood, trying to draw out her twin buds. Prying her apart with his fingers, he rested his puckered lips over her clit, then sucked her flesh into his mouth, her twin beans sitting a little behind his teeth.

“Ahhh! Please don’t stop! Oh!”

She gasped, gripping his hair, still dithering between pulling him up and pushing him down. He flicked his tongue over her clit, sucking, drawing her in and out. She gasped and cried out, her thighs spasming, squashing his head one moment, relaxing the next. He slipped his finger in, feeling around, tracing her delicate hymen.

“By the gods, that was good! I’m ready,” she said. “Fuck me. Josh, please fuck me now.”

Josh lingered for a few more moments, savoring her scent, then broke away, hovering over her as he positioned his cock at her entrance. Rubbing it up and down her slit, he made sure she was ready. He pushed gently but firmly into her incredibly tight passage, meeting her virginal resistance but pushing straight through. He continued firmly thrusting into her as he slowly slid his whole length inside her tight, sopping wet tunnel. He rested, forcing his pubic bone onto her engorged clit and gyrating against it. She ground back, moaning softly, her butt meeting his and forcing him up.

“I think you moved my insides around, but I never imagined I could fill so full. It’s even a little hard to breathe.” She let out a breath as he felt her relax as her body accepted him deep inside her. “Now comes the fun fucking?” she asked.

Josh pushed; his cock still hilt-deep within her. “You ready, babe?” he asked.

“Ready,” she said, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, her cheeks flushed.

He withdrew, slamming straight into her, withdrawing, and pushing back. “Like that? You like it like that?”

“I fucking love it,” she cried, her hands pressed against the wall behind her.

He slid in and out, trying to control his strokes. Sweat beaded between her perfect breasts and dusted her forehead. Her chest heaved, forcing her nipples to scrape his chest. He maintained his rhythm, thrusting deeper and deeper, the base of his cock and his balls sopping wet. Elowen puffed her cheeks, her breaths coming in tiny spasms as she fought with her orgasm.

“Just let it go, baby, just let it go,” he said softly, nibbling her ear, her neck and shoulder. “Let the pressure go. Cum all over my cock.”

“I’m going to cum,” she said, forcing each word out between grabbed breaths. “I’m going to cum.”

“Me too. Me too. You’re so tight, so fucking tight.”

“Your cock’s so big. I don’t know how it fit in.” She threw back her head, her mouth open as a strangled scream escaped her.

Josh pounded into her; all pretense of control gone. She spasmed, her legs locking his ass in position.

“I’m cumming,” she cried as ripples shivered up and down her body. “I’m fucking cumming!” Her head jerked from side to side, her ass bucking, thighs clamping. Her eyes were wide open as her body shook, and she tried to process the waves of pleasure.

Josh kept thrusting, keeping a rhythm to the tide of waves pleasuring her. As she started regaining some control, Josh was losing his. The effect of the sight and feeling of taking his virgin lover couldn’t be held off much longer.

Josh thrust deeper, his balls welling. “You wanna drink my cum? You said you wanted to taste it.”

Her eyes filled with wonder left his face to glance down to her quivering pussy as his cock slid in and out of it. “Yes baby, yes, baby. Cum in my mouth.”

He withdrew, sidling up and hovering over her face. “Take me quick!” he urged.

Her mouth opened as his cock became her sole focus. She grabbed him, pulling his cock into her mouth.

The feel of her tongue and lips pushed him over an edge he’d hovered on for a while. She moaned as she sucked and licked, begging him to give her what she needed. He couldn’t hold back and exploded into her mouth, his balls convulsing, emptying, as she gobbled gout after gout of hot sticky cum down, licking his tip as his orgasm subsided.

He collapsed to her side and pulled her onto his chest as he lay back. She rested her head and started to caress his chest as he caught his breath. “No virgin anymore,” he said.

She shivered as another mini orgasmic wave ran through her. “Yours forever,” she said.

Chapter Thirteen

JOSH HAD FINALLY CHECKED his notification after breakfast. He’d received a new attribute which didn’t shock him. His habit of nearly dying always reaped significant benefits.

Basic attributes deemed inadequate

Basic senses deemed adequate

Adding additional attribute

Working on solutions to enhance existing attributes

Strength – adequate

Speed and agility – adequate

Durability – poor

Combat instinct – poor

Arcane resistance – adequate

Poison resistance – poor

Assessing requirements to protect the host

Upgrading durability

Durability +1

Upgrading Combat Instinct

Combat instinct +1

Upgrading and aligning poison resistance

Poison resistance +17

New Score =

Strength = 17

Speed and Agility = 18

Durability = 27

Combat instinct = 18

Arcane resistance = 23

Poison resistance = 17

Average = 20

Senses

Advanced intuitive hazard detection activated

Sub branches

Advanced physical threat detection – red

Advanced arcane threat detection – mauve

Advanced poison threat detection - blue

Rank = Novice Enforcer

Current Tier = Steel Adept

Title = Steel Adept of the Novice Enforcer

Josh pondered the new attribute, unsurprised that the ring had reacted to his poisoning by the harpy. It was all about protection first, and his durability was at the forefront of that. The number of times he could recall it saving him was growing, with many more going unnoticed. For instance, the spear that had killed Dominica had passed straight through her, but his armor had stopped it. That armor was born from his durable skin. He thought about falling from a cliff, being tossed from a waterfall, crushed by a boar, or peppered by fairy darts. What would have once killed him simply set him back a little.

His combat intuition, strength, speed and agility, and arcane resistance all made the impossible possible. He’d traveled from the Hangsane to Endover without stopping. He’d fought and killed five harpies, and looking back on it, his reaction times had been stunning. So, it wasn’t surprising that the ring didn’t want all its hard work undone by poison attacks and had separated them from durability.

He suspected the ring had built up his poison resistance for a while but under the guise of durability. The magical necrosis the wolves had spread had fallen under arcane resistance, but there would have been an aspect of poison resistance there. The fairy arrows had been dipped in poison. So, in a way, he could justify the plus seventeen and explain it by accepting there was already some degree of protection there. It was simply getting the recognition it deserved. However, he also knew the ring didn’t work like that. By recognizing poison resistance, it would have increased his ability to endure poisoning by repeatedly poisoning him. Which was probably why he’d woken in such a haze and found himself tied to a pole and almost certainly how he’d resisted a second poisoning by Esmerelda.

What it did give him was another attribute that he could directly influence to bring up his average score, even if it would be horrific to do it. With his arcane resistance at twenty-three and his poison resistance at seventeen, if he could move them up into the thirties, it would drag his average up nicely. His thinking behind it was simple. He needed more armor. His scale and mail armor had been the difference between life and death already, and if he were going up against Ravenheart, he'd have even more chance if he could get boots, gloves or, preferably, a helm.

Which was why Vella had tied him to a table and was busy spooning hemlock paste into his mouth.

“I’m not liking you all covered in a blue haze,” he croaked, sweat dripping from him, his muscles contracting, and his body spasming.

She poured water down his throat, then shoved the rope back into his mouth.

“Don’t like doing this.”

He shook his head as the poison entered his system. He had a while until it took effect, but unfortunately, that didn’t mean respite. Vella wasn’t the only one present.

“Ready?” Cassandra asked.

He nodded, unable to reply.

The Everdeep staff glowed, a blast of white streaking from it and crawling over him like malignant lightning. It punctured his skin, burrowing into him and attacking his nervous system as it attempted to paralyze him.

He bit down on the rope, closing his eyes and fighting both attacks. When the worst of the magic subsided, he nodded again. Cassandra cast her spell again, her head shaking. Her lips pressed in a thin line. Neither of the girls liked doing it, but there was no telling where the future would take them. After her fourth attack, the hemlock poisoning hit again. His heart raced. His mind swam, and his head lolled to one side as he teetered on the edge of life, just Vella’s subtle infusions keeping him from dying.

Vella had hated the idea when Josh had mooted it. He asked her if she could heal him enough to keep him alive but not heal him entirely. At first, she hadn’t understood why he’d want to remain nearly dead, and even after he’d explained the attributes, he could tell she didn’t quite get it. But Cassandra had witnessed his increased arcane resistance. She understood the value of his armor. She knew that his and all their safety was linked to how overpowered he could get.

He rode the hemlock poisoning and endured Cassandra’s magical attacks. Then, eventually, when he could take no more when he couldn’t swallow the hemlock paste without throwing up instantly, he gave Vella the sign.

“Heal,” she said.

“Renew,” she added.

Upgrading arcane resistance

Arcane resistance +2

Upgrading poison resistance

Poison resistance +3

New Score =

Strength = 17

Speed and Agility = 18

Durability = 27

Combat instinct = 18

Arcane resistance = 25

Poison resistance = 20

Average = 20.83

It was a start—that was all. He needed nine more points to progress, and the progression would become harder with each.

Elderelf Thamian held up his hand, quieting the crowd. Josh shifted uneasily, standing on the dais, hugely conscious that he was under a gallows and feeling a little awkward that the whole town appeared to have turned out.

The crowd had gathered in the main square to watch the Elderelf give Josh the freedom of Endover. He wasn’t quite sure if it would help them in any way, but apparently, it would give him the freedom to come and go from Endover as he wished.

In his recent experience, the freedom to enter the town depended on whether its gates were open. As Thamian droned on, he wondered what would have happened the night the fairies had attacked. Had he shouted, “Hey, I’m Josh, and I have Freedom of the Town,” he doubted they would have opened the gates. He doubted it very much.

But, as Thadius pointed out, it wouldn’t hurt, and it would increase his reputation. Endover was a trading post, taking mined and panned minerals and precious metals from the foothills of the Hangsane further into the elven kingdom.

Josh hadn’t realized how far their kingdom stretched. The thin peninsula he’d thought was the extent of their lands was just the beginning, and his experience of the elven lands had pluses as well as the obvious minuses like enraged harpies.

He pondered extending their monster-hunting offering. So far, working for humans had earned them a slight reward, whereas the elves of Elarathon were making them three decent wagons for killing the same sorcerer. It appeared one set of clients was more profitable than the other.

Thamian raised his voice. “Not only has Josh killed every harpy in the local nest, he also formed a truce with the fairies.” The Elderelf paused for effect, his voice much deeper when he resumed. “Having given them a bloody nose, I might add. So, my friends, we will shortly review our evening patrols and push back the time we shut the gates to midnight. If this proves successful, we will revert to an open village.”

A cheer rose from the crowd, with chants of “Josh! Josh! Josh!” sounding.

Thamian had insisted on displaying the harpy heads by placing them on stakes driven into the ground behind them. Cassandra’s preservation spell had maintained their expressions perfectly. Throaty, for instance, had a look of total surprise on her face, but then, she had seen the spear at the last moment. Anger dominated Fayer’s expression, while Bland displayed no emotion, but the pondweed coating her hair made her look particularly foul. Either way, the gruesome display made Josh’s feat that much more impressive.

But all in all, he thought the presentation a pointless waste of his time—or was it?

Thamian raised his voice again. “So, let us vote. All those in favor of offering Josh and his monster hunting group, erm,”—he looked at his palm— “the Misfits, a retainer, say aye! No, second thoughts, raise your hands.”

Josh’s attention perked. “A retainer?”

Thamian looked at him. “I take it that won’t be an issue.”

“It would have been nice to discuss it first,” he said.

Thamian paled, and then his gaze roamed over the crowd. “All those against?” When no one raised their hand, he stamped his foot and announced, “Motion passed. Endover now retains the Misfits to eradicate all monsters in the local area as and when they invade.”

“But we haven’t discussed it,” Josh said.

Thamian creased his brow. “Why would you want to? A place like this, once trade picks up, you’ll be rich.”

“Rich?” he asked.

Thadius climbed onto the dais, steering Josh away before addressing the Elderelf. “I take it we will discuss terms over the ratification banquet?”

“We will.”

“And will there be the option to extend to neighboring towns?”

“Some will require proof an elf is part of your team as per our employment legislation, but that doesn’t appear to be an issue.” He nodded in Vella’s direction.

“Headquarters?”

“We have a disused adventurer’s lodge.”

Thadius nodded. “It must have basic furnishing, and the deeds signed over to us.”

“Naturally,” Thamian said, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.

“I will discuss it with Josh. However, the offer will need to be generous. Elarathon is already interested in becoming our primary base. They set us three quests, although it looks like they missed the primary.”

“The primary?”

“To kill the creature driving all the monsters here—to kill the beast, Ravenheart,” Josh said.

Thadius said, “We’ll go discuss the opportunity and meet back to go over the complete offer.” He quickly led Josh down the steps. “This is huge,” he whispered as they were leaving the dais. “Say nothing. Walk away like you are unaffected. Don’t give anything away.”

“Thadius, calm down. You’re the one jumping around like a ten-year-old child in a candy store.”

“Sometimes you say the strangest things. But yes, calm is called for.”

Arabella burst through the crowd. “How’s my favorite hero?” she said, jumping into his arms.

“Absolutely perfect, but your dad needs to calm down. He thinks this retainer thing is huge.”

“It is, my love. It’s the best thing that could ever happen to us.”

“How so?”

“Well, for a start, we’ll never have to worry about money again.”

Josh blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Quiet,” Thadius said. “I know the building he talked about. Let’s go and see it and assess what we’ll need to get it functioning.”

“The adventurer’s lodge? Probably some old shack,” Josh said as the crowd parted and let Cassandra through.

“Did I hear that right? Have we got a base? Somewhere to put my animals?” the witch asked.

“You did,” said Elowen, slipping through the throng as they closed behind Cassandra.

“Endover good place,” said Vella. “Better than Elarathon—closer to everything else.”

“My thoughts exactly,” said Thadius, ducking down a side street but quickly stopping. “well, here we are.”

The building was reasonably substantial, with a broad set of steps rising to a pair of partly glazed wooden front doors. Josh followed Thadius up. The old man pushed the doors open, walking in. “Could we have some light, please, Cassandra?”

She conjured a flat sheet of light and pushed it up to the beamed ceiling. “Good enough?”

The place resembled an empty tavern. A long counter ran the length of one wall and led to another set of double doors. A stone fireplace sat opposite, with upward stairs tucked in one corner, while some tables and chairs lay scattered about.

“Pretty large,” Thadius said. “Must have been a busy place in the old days.”

“The old days?” Josh asked.

“Elowen, could you see what’s through those doors? Cassandra, can you look upstairs?” Thadius leaned on the counter. “Let me explain. Way back, there were monsters everywhere, especially here. The sentient races slowly drove them back to the Hangsane. Places like this were at the forefront of it. Monster hunting was big business, but the need dwindled as it became safer and safer. There were some huge franchises—The Brothers of the Dark Blade, The Night Prowlers, Boundary Twenty-Four—to name a few.”

“But if there aren’t many monsters, why give us this place?” Josh asked.

“Which makes that a very good question. A very good question indeed,” Thadius said.

“Josh kill all,” Vella said. “More come.”

Chapter Fourteen

ELOWEN RAN BACK into the main room. “Arabella, Josh, come and see!” She grabbed Arabella, pulling her toward the back doors. “There’s a terrace, a yard, we have a few barns and best of everything, it all looks over a stretch of river. We have our own bit of river, Bells!”

Josh and Thadius rushed out with her. While a little overgrown, Josh could see the potential. A substantial terrace ran the length of the building, its planked wood floor edged by a partly rotten hitching rail. The bones of a track remained imprinted in the mud and weeds, vanishing around the sides of the building.

Three small barns stood on one side. Two were in a pretty bad way, their roofs caved in and doors hanging open. The third looked to have stood the test of time much better, with its doors remaining firmly closed.

“Can’t open them,” Arabella shouted back at Josh, beckoning him over.

He tried the latch, looked for bolts and even attempted to pry it open with his fingers, but nothing moved it.

“My guess is that the whole building is under some form of charm. I’ll bet a guild hex or some such thing seals the barn,” Thadius said, inspecting the locks.

“Then how do we open it?” Josh asked. There was nothing worse than a locked door to rouse curiosity.

Thadius inclined his head. “You don’t. Cassandra might be able to, but if not, perhaps Thamian has some detail on the spell or a chest with the key to the charm in it.”

“Forget it,” Arabella said, excitedly dragging him across a large weed patch to the river’s edge. “We’ll come back to it. We have our very own stretch of river! That’s the most important thing here.”

Josh crouched, picking up a stone and tossing it in. “Thing is, I’m not so sure about all this. I thought we’d be traveling the lands in our elven wagons. I’d be on the front bench with you. Cassandra would have her cart, which would be weird with its chimney and lookout tower. Elowen’s would be full of books.”

“And we can have all that,” she said. “But we won’t be fighting monsters every day. This gives us a base to spread from. True, it’s a little southern—nowhere near the center of Mythelore. But it’s where the monsters are at the moment. It gives us a base, Josh. After a few weeks on the road, it won’t be such a dream anymore. Trust me, you’ll be hankering for a bed.”

He grunted. “Plus, if your dad gets too old to come, it gives him somewhere safe to live.”

She threw her arms around him. “What did I ever do to get you—thinking of my dad like that? Thank you. You’ll love it here.” She pulled him into her arms. “And we get our own bedroom. We can commission a bed big enough for six of us. I think six is enough, or do you think too many? Should we make it four?”

Josh kissed her, then pursed his lips. “If we make it big enough for four and then want five, it won’t work, but if we do it the other way, we’ll have plenty of room.” His dick hardened just thinking about it.

“Should we go six, then? There’s no telling how virile you’ll get with that ring.”

“Five,” Josh said. “If I can keep more of you happy, I’ll make the new bed myself.”

“So, we can stay?” Arabella asked.

Josh took a breath. “Yes. Let’s make this our base. Besides, your dad said it comes with a bit of money, and we’ve got very little.”

“Then we need to explore the upstairs. We want to make sure we get the biggest bedroom.” She jumped up and raced for the door, then stopped. “Are you coming?”

“I’ll be up in a moment.”

Arabella vanished inside, calling for Elowen to follow her.

“What do you think?” Thadius asked.

“It’s hard for me to tell. I’ve never even seen a map of Mythelore. Are we too far south?”

Thadius grunted and crouched. “I suppose, but you also have to understand the nature of monsters. As man gained prominence in Mythelore, he drove the monsters to his borders. If we set up in the center of Mythelore, we’d have to travel hundreds of miles to get to them. Take the colossus. Had that been close to the capital, they’d have torn it down and reduced it to rubble. If a hundred soldiers had died doing it, they would record it as a hundred valiant deaths, which would be the end of it. So, if it’s work we’re looking for, then Endover is as good a place as any.”

Josh squeezed his face up. “But I thought that elves and humans didn’t mix.”

Thadius arched his eyebrows. “They don’t, and for a variety of reasons. Most important is the inherent distrust between the races. Humans infiltrate and then settle. It’s what we do. Elves are very protective of their lands and rarely migrate. Those values don’t mix well. Plus, there’s the small matter of the river. It runs west to northeast, cutting the land. The largest northern block is human land you know as Mythelore, but around a third is mixed race, predominantly elven with some dwarves, gnomes, goblins, and the like. Humans call them the Wild Lands. Elves call them Alanthia, which means unstained. Take from that translation what you will. My point is this. I have spent a lifetime killing monsters for humans and received little in return. If Endover adopts us, more towns will come calling.”

“More towns?” Josh asked. “Why?”

“Because these lands are still untamed, and something has disturbed the monsters. Perhaps it’s time to try a new way. A retainer gives us legitimacy here.” Thadius picked up a stone and tossed it in the river. He watched its splash vanish, consumed by the current. “You wanted to explore, didn’t you? Here, you can explore places no human has ever set foot in.”

“It sounds exciting.” Josh shook his head. “I guess it’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Here, Josh, you’ll be a hero, and the ring will add to your mystery. In Mythelore, everyone will try and take advantage of you.” He nudged Josh. “You could get yourself a little goblin girl. You could fight with gnomes. Or, how about this, you could explore vast underground ways with the dwarves.” He stood, looking up at the Hangsane. “And then there’s that place where no one has adventured. Would you like to be the first to journey through those mountains and see what’s on the other side?”

A rush, the like of which he hadn’t experienced since the spaceship Lincato, swamped him. Although it hadn’t been the best job, he had traveled to new galaxies and seen new things. He’d been a part of something. Here, he could be an actual explorer. He could be Commander Selavine Blake, the man who’d first ventured through the Horus belt. Or perhaps Elvine DeVuell, who’d broken through the Timus Membrane and discovered whole new galaxies.

“I think it sounds like a start,” he said as his old thoughts vanished, and new dreams took their place.

“Good. Now, remember this. Thamian was buoyed by the crowd when he gave us this place. He’ll want to rein his offer back. But all the while Ravenheart pushes more monsters north, the negotiating position lies with us. He’ll not want to shut his gates again. I’ll bet his trade more than halved.”

“Why?”

“Because if you were a merchant and knew you’d be locked out if you arrived a moment after dusk, you’d forget Endover and travel to a safer town. I bet that any who did come here could offer low prices and get the deal. With us here, he can keep the gates open, and if monsters attack, then he can blame us. Without us, it all falls apart.”

“What’s the next town along—still close to the Hangsane.”

Thadius squeezed his eyes shut. “That’ll be Stravia. Big on iron, I believe.”

“I think I have an idea.” He jumped up. “Let me find Cassandra.”

Thadius grabbed his arm. “Before you go, I want to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For giving Arabella and me opportunities. If I hadn't met you, I would still be trundling around Mythelore in my cart.”

“But you gave me everything I have. There’s no need to thank me.”

Thadius smiled. “I know, and Arabella will continue to give. It is who she is. But you’ve thanked me enough. It was time I returned the thanks. Partnerships like yours and Arabella’s are rare. Cassandra and Elowen are fantastic additions to your family. I think Vella could be, too.” He scanned the building. “You need this place, Josh. It won’t be long before you start a family. The road is no place for children.”

“Children? I hadn’t even thought that far.” And he hadn’t. The thought of kids hadn’t crossed his mind. He was living a dream, and in that dream, he could make love to his women as many times as he wanted without any consequences.

“You do know how children are made, don’t you?” Thadius said. “Only judging by the smiles on the girls’ faces, you’re putting the work in quite regularly.”

Nerves gnawed at his guts. “I guess. I just hadn’t thought about it.”

“It is one of the great advantages of harem. Any child won’t have one mother. He or she will have the love of all of them. It is why those who understand harem know how honorable and pure it is. Harem children are always the most balanced and self-confident children born. It is the epitome of family.”

“I get it.” Josh walked back inside and climbed the stairs.

“Here, Josh!” Arabella called, draped on a doorway. “This is ours, and it’s perfect.”

Vella rushed from the room, grabbing him. Josh couldn’t quite orientate himself. The stairs came out in the corner, then ran halfway along the back wall with a couple of windows overlooking the yard. A corridor branched off at about the quarter mark, each side pocked by a parade of doors.

“Those are the guest rooms. Most have bunk beds—two bunks to a room. A couple at the front are large enough for one person to live in each. Dad can have one of those,” Arabella said. “But this—” She swept her arm and invited him through the door at the end of the corridor. “This is ours.”

“That yours,” Vella said and made a face. “Vella has cold, lonely room.”

“Ignore her,” Elowen said. “She’s sulking because we get all the fun.”

“Not sulking,” Vella said, snapping out of her melancholy. “Happy for you.”

Josh slid through the door. A room opened up. It wasn’t large by any means, but it was spacious enough to count as a living room. A table and chairs, perhaps a small scullery, could fit in easily and leave plenty of space. It had a fireplace with a substantial wooden mantel where they could warm themselves, resting in cozy chairs. “A living room?” he asked.

“With a bedroom attached,” Cassandra said, standing in a central doorway.

Josh hadn’t entirely worked out all the logistics of harem. He didn’t know, for instance, if it was usual for him to hop from one bed to the next, whether they all had separate rooms, or if there was one wedlock room and a rotation of wives. So far, it wasn’t something he’d had to worry about, but with the advent of the adventurer’s lodge, it had suddenly come to the fore.

“Is this how it’s supposed to work?” he asked, inspecting the large room.

“Work?” Arabella asked.

“We all sleep in one bed?”

“No rules,” Cassandra said. “I vote no hard and fast rules. We have one main bed, then a couple dotted around, perhaps a couch, a scattering of cushions.”

“And a bath,” Elowen said. “We have to have a bath.”

“Good point. We’ll have a bath. I can move the water up here and heat it with my magic. Hell, I can even get rid of it—funnel it straight into the river.”

“Shelves for my books,” Elowen added. “I’m going to need shelves for my books.”

“In the other room,” Arabella said. “This room is for sleep, fun and getting nice and clean.”

“Big bed, small beds, hammock for Vella when she’s allowed,” said Vella.

“Ooh!” said Cassandra. “I like the sound of a hammock.” She cocked her head. “And I’m not opposed to a naked elf in my bed if I’m honest. Especially one as pretty as you, Vella.” She trailed her finger along Josh’s cheek and down his chest. “But only as window dressing.” Her finger reached his dick. “I know what I like.”

“Yes,” said Josh, blinking and catching his breath.

“We should decide,” Elowen said. “It would be easier to plan everything if we know if Vella is joining us or not.”

“Do you want to join us, Vella?” Arabella asked.

“Yes. Want.”

“Then please leave us for a moment so we can discuss it.”

“Will go get some food. Everyone hungry?”

“That would be wonderful,” Arabella said.

“Nervous,” Vella said and slipped through the door.

“Well, that was awkward,” Cassandra said.

Arabella paced the room. “I’m concerned that we’re growing too fast. Elowen’s only just joined us, and we’ve yet to become a family unit of four. To jump to five when we aren’t used to four seems foolhardy.”

“Please,” Cassandra said. “That ship’s sailed. She was with us at Elrima. She’s been with us since Elarathon. Heck, she jumped off a fucking cliff to save Josh after the boar broke him into pieces. There would be no harem without her, as he’d be dead. Face it, Arabella, she’s here already. We’ve been five for a few weeks. We just haven’t recognized it.”

“There will be people, sometimes girls, who are with us as a group but not in the harem,” Arabella pointed out.

“And that’s fine,” Elowen said. “Vella isn’t one of those. She wants in. I think she fell for Josh quite a while ago.”

“She respects the harem,” Josh said. “She wanted to screw me on the island, but that was that. I want—we can’t. Those were her words. I didn’t even have to turn her down. And don’t forget, if we don’t invite her in, we lose our healer.”

Arabella nodded but continued pacing the room. “Whether we lose a healer or not shouldn’t be a consideration. This is more important than that. Let’s vote on one thing first. Should Vella come into the harem?”

“It’s your choice whether to recommend her to Josh, Arabella,” Elowen said. “You are the founding wife.”

“Which is a bit odd as he’s here.”

“Look,” said Josh. “Let’s cut all the shit out. I get to choose who is in the harem or not, but The Code dictates that you all should be happy with it. I get that. But things run by committees never work. Do you all get on with her?”

“I like her,” said Elowen.

“She’s in the group already. Would you kick her out?” Cassandra asked. “I wouldn’t. She’s one of us.”

“She doesn’t fit in with the elves,” Arabella said. “You can tell that. She’s an elf, but she’s not like them.”

“What are you getting at?” Josh asked.

“She’s a misfit—she’s like all of us.”

“So,” he said. “Let’s get this straight. You all get on with her. She’s a misfit in her own society, and she contributes to our group. I want her in.”

“Then she’s in,” said Arabella.

“We’re five,” said Cassandra.

“We have our healer,” said Elowen.

“We need a bigger bed,” said Josh with a huge smile.

Chapter Fifteen

THAMIAN HAD a ruling quality about him. Devoid of his apparent nerves on the dais, he appeared much more at ease sitting at the negotiating table. His posture was ramrod straight, expression stoic, his collar high, plain green shirt buttoned to the throat. Gray tinged his long hair and had won the battle for his sharp eyebrows. His title was Elder, as was he.

He sat at the end of a long table, the room clearly one set aside for meetings, plain in every way and devoid of any distraction. “I took the liberty of ordering some food and drink. I find meetings fly by if we can eat and drink as we talk.”

Thadius sat along the table’s length while Josh sat opposite Thamian. They’d decided to keep it to two of them. Any more attending a negotiation always confused matters, and they wanted to keep their position tight.

“That’s very kind of you,” Josh said, grabbing a round of bread, tearing off a hunk and popping it in his mouth. He stared at the Elderelf as he chewed.

“How are you finding the adventurer’s lodge? Is it adequate?” Thamian asked.

“Adequate describes it well,” Thadius replied. “It’s dusty, empty, and has that smell of abandonment. It tells me it’s been a while since you’ve retained monster hunters.”

Thamian opened his palms. “The task of an Elderelf is to manage the budget of their village, town, or city. If the budget allows for a discretion toward a hunting guild, then I must justify that. Until recently, I could not do that.”

“Wise words. But recently? I think longer than that,” Josh said. “How much has it cost you to shut the gates at dusk for such a long time?”

“We have adapted our budgets.”

Thadius steepled his hands, tapping them on his nose. “You mean you increased your taxes to cover the decrease in your trade. If that cycle continues, you will soon lose your status as a town while others thrive. I hardly call that managing.” He stood. “More monsters will come, but if you are here to rescind your kind offer of the adventurer’s lodge and our retainer, then do so, and we’ll be on our way.”

“Hold—”

Thadius raised his palm. “Please. Might I remind you that we are here purely on behalf of Elarathon and that we killed the harpies at their behest, not yours? You owe us nothing, Elderelf.”

“Please. Please, sit. Let’s not be hasty. It is my job to strike the best deal for Endover—nothing personal, you understand.”

Thadius sat.

“Why don’t you tell us how you see things panning out?” Josh asked.

Thamian took a drink, his gaze flitting from Thadius to settle on Josh. “The hall is yours on an annual renewing lease and for a nominal ground rent. Shall we say six gold? It will be yours to do as you wish, but the responsibility for all repairs and maintenance also lies with you. Your retainer is the one-half point of every hundred-point increase in the market value of all goods passing through Endover’s marketplace from the day the gates open fully. In short, the more Endover gains—the more you gain. If trade thrives, you thrive.” He grinned. “I think it’s fair.”

“It’s—” Thadius made to say, but Josh stopped him.

“What have you got to lose, Thamian?” he asked. “You gain six gold a year that you weren’t getting, and I’ve no doubt your market tax is in excess of one-half point. So, my question is this: What do you have to lose? We have six gold at stake. We could live in Elarathon for free and only clear the odd monster every now and then. It is the kind of life that appeals to me.”

“Lose?” Thamian asked. “Why should I lose? I’m giving you a base from which to ply your trade. If you wish to take other commissions to make more money, you are free to do so.”

“That’s—” Thadius made to say, but Josh stopped him again.

“How much to kill Ravenheart? What is the bounty for his head?”

“The bounty for Ravenheart?” Thamian considered the question. “I will open negotiations with other affected settlements, and we will come up with a joint offer.” He leaned forward, smiling. “I’d imagine it will cover your first year’s rent. Give you time to get on your feet, eh?”

Josh sat back, tapping his chin. He rose, walked around the table to the open window, leaned out and nodded to Cassandra. He turned, resting his hands on the back of Thamian’s chair. “Let me get this straight. You get us free. You get Ravenheart killed for free. That’s good business, Thamian.” He walked back to his chair and sat. “I applaud your thinking.”

“Are we reaching an agreement?” Thamian asked.

Josh met his gaze. “I think not.” He smiled but over Thamian’s head. “Ah, Lyra. Do you have word?”

Thamian spun around as the fairy flew in, leaving a trail of green sparkles behind her. She settled next to Josh, her emerald wings glowing as she offered her cheek. “That was a long flight.”

He kissed her.

“A very long flight,” she said.

He kissed her again.

She handed him the scroll. “Dinsy will be back from Elarathon soon. Apparently, they have something very special to offer.”

“Thank you, Lyra.” He pecked her cheek again. “I’ll meet you tonight and tell you where we’re settling.”

The fairy ran the length of the table, jumping over Thamian, somersaulting, landing on the windowsill and flying off.

“Uhm, err,” Thamian said as Josh rose. “What just happened?”

Josh arched his eyebrows. “What happened? We have a residency offer from Stravia to consider, as well as one coming from Elarathon. We’ll look at all three and then choose where we settle.” He set the scroll down on the table and planted his palms. “Like you must do whatever is best for Endover, I must do what’s best for my family. You understand that, don’t you, Elderelf?”

Thadius rose, his hand over his mouth as he stifled his grin. “Good day, Thamian. Thank you for your hospitality and generous offer. No doubt we’ll be in touch. We’ll be at the adventurer’s lodge should you wish to contact us.”

Josh unrolled the scroll. “We’ll be there tonight.” He creased his brows and then raised them. “Although I imagine we’ll be leaving at first light.”

“Hold on! Hold on!” Thamian said. “I must counter. If you get a better offer than mine, you must allow me to counter!”

Josh rolled up the scroll. “It doesn’t work that way. I’m not a sack of carrots haggled over in the marketplace. You’ve told us your offer. We’ll consider it with the others.”

“But this was a meeting to consider an opening offer. Tell you what—I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll prepare my proper offer and bring it to you. How about that? How about that, eh?”

Josh hesitated as Thadius walked to the door.

“What do you think, Thadius?”

“I think he’s made his offer, but I do like the hall. I like the river too. Perhaps, but any offer must be made by scroll. It has to be written down, signed and sealed.”

Thamian stood, leaning over the table. “Is their offer grand?”

Josh let a smile quickly cross his lips but concealed it instantly. “It’s adequate.”

“How adequate?”

Thadius steered Josh to the door. “Come, Josh. Let’s go. We’ll not disrespect Stravia by discussing their offer. It demeans all parties.”

“Doesn’t it,” said Josh, and they left.

“They’re still shooting arrows at me,” Lyra said as she sat on the counter in the adventurer’s lodge.

Vella and Elowen had found a few old bar stools in one of the dilapidated barns and set them by the counter. Cassandra slid one to Josh.

“It’ll soon stop. We have to play it cool until Thamian delivers his counteroffer.”

“Are we sure he’s going to?” Elowen asked.

“He will.” Thadius sat. “You should have seen his face when Lyra delivered the scroll. He was practically spitting feathers. Desperation quickly crept in. I think he’s staked a lot on our staying.”

“He’s in deep,” Josh agreed.

“Probably sent messengers to Hallion assuring them the gates would be open. If caravans have set off, he’ll be liable for hefty compensation if they can’t get in.” Thadius said. “The Wagonmaster’s guild is tough to deal with.”

Josh tossed the blank scroll on the counter and addressed Lyra. “Out of interest, how long would it take you to get to Stravia?”

She pouted, her wings fluttering, dusting emerald sparkles everywhere. “A morning—no more.”

Thadius’ jaw dropped. “A morning? That quick?”

“A bit less.”

“Tell me,” Josh ran his fingers through his hair. “What would it take for me to have you fairies work with me one day?”

“Kisses.” She offered him her cheek.

“No, I’m serious. You could run messages for us—once we’re established.”

Thadius slapped the counter. “That’s brilliant. The problem for monster hunters has always been communication. Sure, birds are great at delivering messages, but if one gets intercepted, then the message, no matter how confidential, is in the wrong hands. With fairies, we don’t have to write anything down.”

“Can run messages for kisses,” Lyra said.

“Is there nothing else you’d want?”

“A safe place to live?” she replied.

“Good. How long to fly to Elarathon?” he asked.

“Most of the night,” she said.

“Okay. Where do you live? What type of place do you like?”

“We live in burrows under the ground. Warm places. Nice and dark in the day. Too much day hurts my eyes.”

“And what do you eat?” Arabella asked.

A broad smile hatched, vanishing quickly, her face then creased with rage. “Babies.”

Josh recoiled. Thadius backed away.

“Babies!” Arabella cried.

Lyra burst out laughing, rolled backward and fell off the counter. “Not babies, honey,” she called up. “We like honey.”

Cassandra crouched before the closed barn. “I can’t fathom it. I haven’t got experience with different types of magic. I know what I know, Josh, and I don’t know this.”

He sat on the mud. “Let’s think about this logically. There are five magical branches: aeromancy, hydromancy, geomancy, pyromancy and naturalism. I know less than you, but surely, any charm must be rooted in one of those branches. The question is which?”

“Okay, so we eliminate them?”

“Yes.”

“You start,” Cassandra said, running her hands through her long hair.

“Okay.” He thought. “First, what is stopping the doors from opening?” Josh asked. “Can magic stop something, or does there have to be, I don’t know, a bolt held in place by magic? I’m saying this: Is magic a good enough explanation, or does the magic drive something else?”

Cassandra pressed her lips together, tilting her head from side to side. “Let’s say not. Let’s say the spell puts something in place to keep the door shut. I don’t think magic—the catch-all—can do it on its own. So, aeromancy—let’s rule that out. Wind gusts, storms blow, there’s nothing constant—nothing that would keep the doors shut permanently.”

“Same goes for hydromancy,” Josh said.

“And pyromancy is definitely out,” Casandra said. “Wood, fire, and all that. Their power is only caused by explosions. So, it can only hold the door shut by constantly pressing against it.”

“Which leaves us with geomancy and naturalism.” Josh stood. “Both of which you know. So—” He moved to the door’s side. “These open out. I’m guessing a few rocks behind them won’t help that. Can you think of anything that would hold them shut?”

“It’s naturalism. It has to be. Something growing through a clasp. Perhaps?” Cassandra placed her hand on the door, closing her eyes. “Let me see if I can sense anything living.”

Josh retreated, leaving her to figure it out. He stood on the riverbank looking over the water to a fence penning in chickens and another with pigs behind. Their yard was as private as it could be. It was perfect.

Kicking at the ground, he wondered if the fairies could burrow under and nest there. It would be wet, too wet, with the river so close. His gaze roamed over the barns, but he discounted them primarily because he needed them for the wagons. “Attic,” he muttered. “We’ve got an attic by the look of it.” Glancing at Cassandra, he raced inside, taking the stairs two at a time, then running down the corridor to its end. There, a steep set of narrow steps led up.

Climbing them, he poked his head into the attic. He could vaguely make out a few beds and decided it had once been used as an overspill when all the other rooms were full.

“Perfect!” he said. “We could pop a hatch in the roof for them to come and go. Make it however they want it. A couple of beehives in the yard, and they’re sorted for food.”

“Are you up there, Josh?” Thadius called.

“Here, yeah!”

“We’ve received Thamian’s bid, and Cassandra has opened the barn.”

“I’ll be right down,” he called, lingering and forming a plan in his mind.

But curiosity got the better of him. It all meant nothing if Thamian’s offer wasn’t good enough. He raced down the stairs, along the corridor, then down the next. Thadius leaned on the counter, a white scroll in his hand.

“Well?” said Josh. “What’s he offered?”

Arabella walked up to him, holding his hands. “If it’s not good enough, we move on. We don’t sell ourselves short.”

“But you love this place.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said.

“Yes, yes, it does.”

Thadius handed him the scroll. Josh took it, nerves gathering, his heart pounding.

“Anyone else nervous?” Josh asked as he unrolled the scroll.

“Well?” Thadius asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Josh?” Arabella asked.

“This place is ours—no lease, no ground rent. One hundred gold to renovate it provided we use local people and materials—everything sourced through the marketplace. One point on every trade in the marketplace which must be wholly invested into the guild for the purposes of keeping the city safe. No penalties for the first year should the gates have to be closed for whatever reason, but a discussion regarding penalties is to take place one month before year two. The adventurer’s lodge must be staffed for the whole year.” He set the scroll down. “What do we think?”

“Perhaps we should consider our other offers?” Thadius said.

They all chuckled.

“Although,” Thadius said. “It’s not to say that we cannot consider expansion, but let’s get this one under control first.”

“I say we accept,” Josh said.

Arabella threw her arms around him, showering him in kisses. She stopped, pushing him away and biting her bottom lip. “Are we sure? You wanted the caravan thing. Are you okay to stay here? To have a base?”

“I’m more than fine with it. We’ll have our wagons. You’re right. We’ll see the land together that way.”

“What about staff?” Elowen said. “If you think I’m staying here holding the fort while you all go galivanting off, then you’ve got another thing coming.”

“You want to think about that again?” Cassandra asked from the doorway. “You might want to look in the barn first.”

“Me not staying,” Vella said, then cartwheeled across the floor.

“No one has to stay,” Josh said.

Thadius picked up the scroll. “The adventurer’s lodge must be staffed for the whole year,” he read.

“It says that, sure.” Josh jumped off his stool. “But I have another idea. Lyra, come with me.”

He led the fairy into the attic, her iridescent wings lighting it. She fluttered around. “What?”

“Could you and all your friends live here? Could you run this place for me? We’ll build a hatch in the roof and have some hives in the yard. One of you could come hunting with us—no, two, then one could relay messages. Do you and your gang want to be a part of my Misfits?”

She fluttered the length of the attic, settling on a beam. “Such a shame I’m not four foot taller. I could join your harem.”

He grinned. “But you’re not, so what do you say? You want to join? You want to live here and come adventuring?”

She pouted. “I might. What do I get?” She pressed her tiny breasts forward and pouted.

“You get kisses every day, all the honey you can eat.”

“One more thing.”

“Name it.”

“If the witch ever figures out how to make me your size, I join your harem.”

“Deal.”

She jumped into his arms and kissed him. “Deal,” she said.

“Josh!” Elowen called up. “You’ll never guess. The barn is full of old books—packed full! It’s got every book on monsters that ever existed. I’ve got years of reading, years!”

Josh rolled his eyes as Lyra giggled.

Chapter Sixteen

ELOWEN PUSHED HER GLASSES UP, cleared her throat, and studied her notes. Dinsy hovered close to Josh, offering him ale, while another fairy, Coots, served beef salad buns. Thadius grabbed one, taking a large bite as they all waited for Elowen to begin. Vella slumped in her chair, chin in her hands, while Arabella inspected her nails. Briefings were rarely fun, especially where Elowen was concerned.

“Can we start soon?” Cassandra asked. “Only old age is hurtling towards me.”

Elowen had stacked the previous guild’s books on the shelves behind the counter, and they’d packed their growing weapons arsenal in the cupboards under it. Everyone sat at a grand, round table that was far too big for the six of them. They’d chosen most of the things they’d brought with one eye on future expansion and to retain the lodge’s tavern-like look.

Vella fidgeted. She wasn’t great at sitting still, but Josh insisted she remain. If she was part of the team, she had to adhere to their central tenets of fun and preparation. This bit wasn’t classed as fun. Arabella sat next to Josh, twirling her pencil like Elowen, while Cassandra attacked her bun, another waiting on her plate. How she remained so skinny was a mystery to all.

“Where is she?” Elowen asked.

“She’ll be here,” Josh assured her. “She knows what time we’re meeting.”

As if on cue, Lyra fluttered down the stairs and settled on the table’s center. “I could eat a rabbit,” she said, her tiny, wet breasts heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

“I’m sure. Did you locate the troll camp?” Elowen asked.

“I did.”

“Welcome back,” Josh said, shooting Elowen a look but returning to Lyra. “Do you mind hopping on your perch—you’re dripping all over the table?”

It had taken several weeks and attempts to invent furniture the fairies were comfortable with. Any chairs or stools became too unstable at the height they had to be to include the fairies in their conversations. It was only when Dinsy had settled on a coat stand they’d had the idea of perches. They were perfect, not crushing their wings and allowing them to sit or stand at head height to everyone else.

“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s raining again,” Lyra said.

It had been raining for three weeks solid, which was a double-edged sword. Unfortunately, it removed any chance of them completing their final quest and collecting their wagons from Elarathon. While the roads were barely passable, the troll camp would undoubtedly be unreachable. However, it gave them time to knock the adventurer’s lodge into shape, which was a bonus.

A team of carpenters had converted the attic into a fairy nest, complete with a small entrance in the roof and dozens of tiny beds. The barns had been repaired, and the terrace’s balustrades replaced. They’d used the beds from the attic to furnish their main bedroom, pushing four together until they could get a big one made.

The lodge was functional—basic, but functional—and that was the most they could have hoped for in the short time they’d lived there.

“Shall I start?” Elowen asked, taking a sip from her water.

“Please,” said Thadius. “Or we’ll be here all night.”

“Trolls,” she said, looking up to make sure she had everyone’s attention. “Trolls are formidable creatures. Their average height is twelve feet, but there have been reports of them reaching a massive fourteen feet. They are muscular. Several of the previous occupants of this wonderful lodge described them as hulking in their notes. Their skin is mottled and tough, resembling the texture of tree bark. Typically, that skin is gray-green, but some tribes have a bluish hue.”

“Our targets are gray-green,” Lyra said from her perch.

“Thank you, Lyra. So, that’s their general physiology. I’ll tackle their strengths next.” She took another drink. “Any questions so far? No? Good. So, probably the most remarkable thing about trolls, according to the texts, is their regenerative abilities. They heal quickly. Adventurers have reported possible fatal wounds repairing as they fought. Others have noticed amputees regrowing limbs over a longer period.”

“So, if we get them on the ground, we make sure to finish it,” Josh said.

“Exactly. Strength is another, erm, strength. Trolls are incredibly strong. Look out for crushing maneuvers. Don’t let them get too close to you. Remember, if you’re ranged, distance is your friend. This is especially true of trolls. While I’m on the subject of ranged, although it does apply to melee, too, trolls boast a thick hide that provides protection against many forms of attack, including arrows and conventional weapons.”

“So, I’m next door to useless,” Arabella said.

“We’ll see what we can do about that,” Thadius commented.

Elowen coughed, waited for silence, then continued. “Their last real strength is night vision. Trolls have adapted to low-light environments and operate efficiently under the cover of night.”

“Excellent summary, Elowen,” Thadius said. “I take it there are weaknesses, too.”

Elowen let slip a smile and turned her attention to Cassandra. “Fire. Trolls hate fire for a very good reason. They are highly susceptible to burns and are incapacitated by flames. If we wanted to drive them back into the Hangsane, fire is the way.”

“Looks like I’ll need to focus on the pyromancy. It’s a shame I’m weak on it,” Cassandra said.

“I have some ideas on other weapons we could deploy,” Elowen said. “But it might be that we could utilize your strong affinity for nature to produce a similar result. We’ll toss some ideas around later.”

“Anything else?” Josh asked.

“Well, sunlight—they hate sunlight. Several books point to them having reduced strength during the daylight hours.”

“And?” Josh asked, sensing there was more to come.

“Head injuries. If you inflict a head injury, then it’s there to stay. They can’t regenerate it. A good blow to the head can be fatal.”

“Josh likes a good blow to the head,” Cassandra said.

Thadius cleared his throat. “Do I need to know that?”

Cassandra blushed and pulled her hood up, giggling uncontrollably.

Elowen grinned. “Not the only thing he likes.”

“I think,” Josh said, “we should hear from Lyra. I’m not sure we need to hear more about my likes and dislikes.”

“I do,” said Vella. “Still not—”

“Yes, well—” Josh stammered.

“When the time is right,” Arabella said.

Josh took a breath. The time had been right for weeks, but circumstances kept getting in the way. It was like fate was trying to keep them apart. If Vella was free, Josh was busy. If Josh slept in, Vella was up early. Every time he thought they might have a stolen moment to consummate her joining the harem, it vanished.

It wasn’t to say they hadn’t kissed or had a quick fumble, but both had agreed they wanted their first time to be special. Josh couldn’t fault Arabella’s reasoning that the time should be right because her rules certainly produced the desired results. Sex with her was fantastic. Cassandra had taken her athleticism to new heights, and Elowen’s specialty remained her patient and insanely good foreplay. He wasn’t going without. If anything, Vella was having trouble getting on the schedule.

“Troll camp,” Lyra said, standing on her perch. “Two days by wagon and one on foot. The camp is halfway between here and Elarathon, then up into the Hangsane foothills. It is at the head of a valley, surrounded on three sides by cliffs. It has its own spring, several caves, and they post lookouts.”

“How many in the tribe?” Josh asked.

“I counted eight males, six females and four children.”

“There are kids?” Josh said, horrified that he might have to kill children.

“A troll child grows up to be a troll, Josh. If you spare its life, then it will be torn apart by wolves or bears. As a monster hunter, it is your responsibility to kill all monsters. Your humanity only comes into play regarding how fast and painless death is. Do not hesitate. If you do, the child won’t show you any remorse.”

“I get that.”

“You showed the harpies no mercy.”

“No, they attacked me.”

“You think the troll child won’t?” Thadius said.

“I get it—I said that. Continue, please, Lyra.”

“The females sleep in the caves with their mates. The males without mates sleep outside. No activity during the day. They wake at dusk and sleep at dawn, just like the harpies.”

“And countless other monsters,” Thadius said. “It’s so much easier for them to hunt—especially humans.”

“So,” said Josh. “What do we think? A daytime attack sees us getting in position during the night. It worked with the boars, but it looks like we can only approach from the valley. Am I right, Lyra?”

“Yes. Cliffs all around.”

Thadius sighed. “They’ve chosen their camp well. If we approach at night, they’ll know and attack.”

“But, if we approach during the day and attack at night, they have the advantage,” Arabella said.

“Anything in the books?” Josh asked.

“Plenty, but it was always individual takedowns—trolls under bridges, taking sheep, that kind of thing. None of them were stupid enough to attack a camp without an army to back them up,” Elowen said.

“I could get close,” Josh said. “I have my stealth clothes.”

“You cannot take out a tribe of trolls on your own,” Thadius said. “You got lucky with the harpies.”

“No, you’re not understanding me.”

“Then why don’t you explain?”

“Okay, going back to my old world. The military used to operate behind enemy lines. So, a small squad would go in and position themselves near the enemy camp. Then, they’d execute sabotage missions to weaken the enemy. Think of me like that. I go in the night before. During the following day, while the trolls are asleep, I ready the camp for the battle to come while you all approach. As the night falls, you attack, and we execute all our plans.”

“You’ll have to be a little more convincing than that. What exactly could you get up to?”

“Have you got anything highly flammable? I could lace that around the place, then Arabella could fire a flaming arrow at it and boom! The camp goes up. If we have troll poison, I could throw it in their pot and make them all sick.”

“We need the Delaneys for those types of concoctions.”

“It would be great to have them here. Melody would be awesome,” Arabella said.

“I wonder if Harrogate is still working on his flashbang powder,” Thadius mused.

“Could use glowroot,” Vella said.

“Harrogate Delaney is working on gunpowder?” Josh asked.

“What’s a gun?” Thadius asked.

“Could use glowroot,” Vella said.

“Nevermind. He’s working on a powder that explodes?” Josh asked.

“Explodes? No? But if you light it, it lets off a huge flash. Quite fun, really, although we never really found a use for it. Originally, we were going to use it to blind the monsters, but we only ended up blinding ourselves, so it was pointless, really.”

“Could use glowroot,” Vella said.

“But if you—” Josh closed his eyes. “Nevermind. Perhaps they’ll join us one day, and we can experiment.”

“Could use glowroot!” Vella shouted.

“What’s glowroot?” Thadius and Josh said together.

“A root. You crush it and make a paste. Sucks up the sunlight, and at night it glows. Want to light up the troll camp? Use glowroot.”

“What use would that be?” asked Thadius with a withering smile.

“Cassandra would be able to see where we put the bang-bang paste.” Vella grinned at him. “See?”

“What’s bang-bang paste?” Thadius asked.

“Paste that goes bang when fire touches it,” Vella said.

“Do you know where to find it?” Josh asked, his heart suddenly racing. Bang-bang paste was what they needed.

“Swamp,” she said. “Big swamp.”

“Any swamps around here?” Josh asked.

“There’s one. Not far,” said Lyra.

Thadius screwed his face up. “Swamps are terrible places.”

“Why?”

“They’re quite poisonous. That’s the main reason.”

“Any magic?”

“Not especially.”

Josh grinned. “Then it’s perfect. I need to work on my poison resistance, and I’m sick to death of eating paste every day while Cassandra fries me.”

“How high have you got it?” Thadius asked.

“I haven’t even looked up this morning’s notification. It’s been two points for a few days now. Hang on.”

Strength = 17

Speed and Agility = 18

Durability = 30

Combat instinct = 18

Arcane resistance = 31

Poison resistance = 28

Average = 23.66

“Just got another two each in poison and arcane. Looks like durability has topped out at thirty. It’s been a while since I made any gains in that.”

Thadius tapped the table. “Then a trip to the swamp might be just the thing for you. Plus, you’ll get some time alone with Vella. Anyway, there’s no benefit to anyone else going. Cassandra needs to practice her pyromancy, Arabella her archery, and Elowen can see if trolls have any more weaknesses we can exploit. Besides, there’s little in a swamp that could hurt you, so what could possibly go wrong?”

“Did you have to say that, Dad?”

Chapter Seventeen

JOSH STOOD in front of Arabella. "This is important," he said. "Plus, it's damn awkward."

"I don't mind carrying your stuff," Vella said, sitting on her new hammock and swinging her legs.

"That's not the point. I can't get undressed every time I have to put my scale armor on. Sometimes, it needs to be quick."

"Don't mind you naked," Vella said.

Arabella tugged at his jacket, slipping her hand inside. "It's roomy enough. Can't you leave it on?"

"The light armor, yes, but the scale, no. Oh, I don't know. I think it was like that. But, if I need my light armor, the situation can deteriorate rapidly. If I need to switch, I can't be saying, 'Hang on a minute, monster, I need to get changed,' can I? It’s weird."

"What exactly did it say?"

“Did what say?”

“When you changed your armor. What did the ring say?”

“Oh, that. Hang on.”

Josh looked it up:

The hybrid option could include two sets of armor and one cloaking set. The first would be light armor that could be worn at all times under externally provided clothing. It would provide increased piercing resistance above durable skin with minimal sacrifice to speed and agility. It would have an advantage over durable skin when dealing with blunt force, but this would be minimal. Some inbuilt resistance to elemental magic would benefit the host. Suggested applications include fighting smaller, faster monsters, sentient melee opponents or operating in enemy territory before any threat can be identified.

The second option would be heavy armor. This would require the host to discard all clothing. Once the set is complete, all areas of the host will be protected against piercing and blunt damage and have enhanced arcane resistance. Sacrifices to strength, speed and agility would be noticeable.

Option three would require the host to remove all external clothing. A manipulation skin would form over durable skin. This coating would absorb all light, mimicking background colors, refracting light, blending, and camouflage. It would offer no resistance to piercing, blunt or arcane damage over the host’s durable skin.

He relayed it to Arabella and Vella.

Arabella screwed her face up. "Didn't you change it from heavy armor to scale armor? If I remember, you didn't want to go clunking around like—what did you call it?"

"A man in a can," he said.

“Yes, you changed it after that.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

"Your armor is your skin, right?" Arabella asked.

"Yeah—that's why I have to be naked."

"So, strip," Arabella said.

"Yes, strip," Vella agreed, swinging off the hammock and standing beside Arabella.

Josh stripped, standing before them as Arabella thought, and Vella looked him up and down.

"Call for your scale armor," Arabella eventually said.

Josh called for it. His skin instantly blurred as scales formed, tiny, diamond-like flaps growing and hardening, overlapping each other, slotting in and forming a coating over his entire torso. It was, though, quite tight. It didn’t have any ridges and protrusions the heavy armor had.

Arabella walked around him, poking and prodding. Vella followed, poking, prodding, and giggling.

"Put your pants back on," Arabella said.

"Don't," said Vella, cupping Josh's groin. "Where's cock gone?"

"Under, I think," Josh said. It was something that puzzled him too, but at the same time, he didn’t want his dick exposed during a fight, so he preferred the mystery. Besides, if someone kicked him in the balls, it wouldn’t hurt.

"Pants!" Arabella ordered. “Put your pants back on.” She rolled her eyes. “Come on, we haven’t got all day.”

"Sorry, you've never asked me to put them on before. It's normally a one-way thing. I’d go so far as to say I don’t like your tone."

Arabella made a face. Josh slid his pants up, grumbling all the way.

"They fit?" she asked.

He moved around. "Sure, they fit fine. But then the pants are short and only designed to protect my dick.”

“Which has vanished, so they should be roomy. Try on your jacket.”

He shrugged his jacket on, stretching his arms to test the sleeves.

“Good?” Arabella asked.

“Seems so.”

“Thought as much. If I remember rightly, the elven seamstresses made it with armor in mind. There might have been quite a difference between your light and heavy armor, but there isn’t much between scale and light. All we need to do is teach your ring that it’s okay. Pop your belt on and see if it all works.”

Josh fastened his belt and strapped his sheath to his upper leg, testing drawing his sword. “I think it’s all fine. Shall I dismiss it?”

“No. I think not. Go see if Dad can spar with you—practice some swordplay. Get the ring to understand that it all works fine.”

“Oddly, it’s probably much better. No one will know I’ve equipped my armor. If I get into a fight, they’re gonna break their fists when they punch me.”

“Or their toes if they kick you in the balls.”

“Better,” said Vella. “Can I watch you practice?”

“Better still, you could join in. You might as well learn how to fight.”

She sashayed up to him, offering him her lips in a pucker. “Can fight if I want, just don’t want to. I’m a healer. I heal. If I fight, I might lose that power. Can’t have both. Must pick one.” She reached up on tip toes and kissed him. “Vella useful in plenty of ways.” She raised her leg, keeping it straight as it hovered at ninety degrees to her body. “Vella can do things a lot of girls can’t.” She continued raising it until her foot was above her head. “Vella is very flexible.”

Josh tried to clear his mind of the lewd thoughts invading it, but he didn’t try so hard, picturing a flurry of intriguing positions. “Nice,” he said, quite breathless.

“Very nice,” said Arabella, equally breathless.

Vella lowered her leg but curled it around Josh, forcing his body against hers. “All yours,” she said, bent backward until she looked up at Arabella. “And yours.” She giggled, leaned back and then backflipped over and stood in the doorway. “Vella, no fight. Vella heals.”

“Absolutely fine,” said Josh and Arabella together.

Vella insisted they walk to the swamp. She dismissed Josh’s suggestion they take one of the carts as the roads took them a long way around. Lyra agreed, explaining the swamp in an old forest northeast of Endover. A cart, she said, would be useless as they tried to get closer. Dinsy had come, too. While Lyra was an emerald magic-dealing fairy, Dinsy’s specialty was her bow and arrow, and as a melee fairy, her colors were bluey-pink. She settled on his shoulder as they walked along a game trail that followed the course of a bubbly brook.

“How come your bow’s bigger than most?” Josh asked the fairy.

“Mine’s a long bow. I’m much stronger than most fairies,” she said.

Where Lyra was quite shy in coming forward, Dinsy was more forthright. She had loud confidence, whereas Lyra’s was quiet surety. Josh knew from experience that the loudest were often the most fragile. So, while on the surface, it appeared Dinsy would make a better leader, Lyra got the job done quietly and efficiently.

“Show me,” he said. “What sort of things can you shoot with such a tiny arrow.”

“Shot you,” Dinsy said. “Shot you twice in our battle.”

Josh coughed. “Yes, well, that was quite regretful.”

“Not really. Showed us who was master. Now we know we serve you, and you look after us.”

It was the first time that Josh thought of their arrangement like that. He’d not seen himself as a master but as an employer. It tossed a whole new dynamic into the brew and was probably a slip of the tongue—something Lyra wouldn’t have told him.

“Just how many of you are there?”

“Thirty-eight. Some come, some go.”

“By go, you mean die?”

“Yes. Not all fairies are long-lived. It depends on how you came to be. Some just are. One moment, they aren’t, then they are. They don’t live long.”

Josh laughed. His purely scientific upbringing had been challenged enough since landing in Mythelore, but the thought of a creature just appearing was a little too much for him. But it was no different from monsters appearing and traveling through a portal into another land. “So, some appear in the land?”

“Yes, and others come from us.”

“You give birth?”

“Yes.”

“But I haven’t seen any males.”

“No. Don’t need males. One becomes two, but the second always differs from the first.”

“Ah, so, you divide. We call it asexual reproduction.”

She screwed her face up. “Sounds horrible.”

“To grow your tribe, you need to find new fairies or create your own?”

Lyra flew close. “Dinsy, you don’t have to tell him everything!”

“But he keeps us safe!”

“We have a bargain,” she spat. “If he knows everything, I have nothing to bargain with.”

Josh laughed. “Why do you need to bargain? I don’t want anything from you that you don’t want to give. You can tell me the truth. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Lyra landed on his shoulder. “All humans say that.”

“He won’t,” Vella said. “He’s not taken advantage of anyone.”

“All elves say that. Both enslave fairies given half the chance.”

Josh stopped. “Look,” he said. “You’re free to go. If you all want to leave, then leave. If you want to stay in the attic, then that’s fine, but I’ll need something from you. That’s not taking advantage. That’s trade. Head back if you don’t want to come on this trip.”

“I want to come,” said Dinsy.

“Lyra?” Josh asked.

She made a growling noise and then flew away. “Hurry up, or we’ll not find somewhere to camp.”

“What’s got into her?” Josh asked.

“She likes you too much. She wants more than you can give her.” Dinsy shrugged. “It happens.”

Josh grinned. “What about you?”

“Oh, I like you fine. One day, you’ll be mine.” She laughed so hard at her joke she fell off his shoulder and landed on the mud path.

Red blurred Josh’s vision as the undergrowth rustled, a snake shooting out, mouth open, snapping. He dropped, shoving his hand out, forcing it between Dinsy and the snake. The snake bit down, its fangs penetrating Josh’s hand but barely piercing his flesh and bone. He grabbed it, wrenching it away from Dinsy while drawing his knife from its boot sheath. Stabbing up, he forced the blade into the snake’s brain, then tossed it down. “You, okay?” he asked the fairy as Lyra helped her up.

“Yes. Thank you. You saved my life.”

Josh sucked the poison out of his hand. “I guess we need to pay more attention to our surroundings,” he said.

Vella cast a quick heal, but Josh was already over the bite. “I should have seen it.”

“I shouldn’t have fallen off your shoulder,” Dinsy said, then flew back on. “How’s your hand?”

“It’s fine. I heal really fast.”

“But that was a red belly,” Lyra said. “One bite is usually enough.”

“Not for me. I’ve been practicing.”

“I have to spoon poison into him and then heal him. It’s horrible,” Vella said.

Lyra hovered close. “You do that?”

“I have to. I have to get strong to protect everyone—fairies included. We should find somewhere to stop and eat some lunch. Vella’s brought some honey for you, and we can all agree we need to calm down a bit.”

“I’ll go find somewhere,” Lyra said, flying down the trail.

Josh sat back against a tree with Vella in between his legs, resting her head on his chest as she munched away on her sandwich. Lyra and Dinsy sat on the lowest branch, dipping their fingers into a honeypot and then licking it off.

“I’m not happy about that snake attack,” he said.

“No, was close,” Vella said.

“Yeah, but I get a warning every time danger comes close to me. By the time my ring decided the attack might have threatened me, it was nearly all over for Dinsy. I get that it might have been filtering out the snake as it wouldn’t have attacked had Dinsy not fallen so close to its mouth, but I’m pissed off I didn’t get a bit of warning.”

“Perhaps it was no threat to you.”

He pursed his lips as he thought back. “Yeah, the warning didn’t even flash blue, so the ring didn’t sense any poison threat to me. It did see a physical one—bite to the ankle, maybe? But nothing else.”

“That’s good then.”

“No, it’s not. It means I’ll get fewer warnings and no warnings that might put another party member in peril. That’s not good enough.”

“You’re safe and getting stronger.”

“Yes, but you’re all my friends. I don’t want to lose you—any of you.”

“Then we’ll be more careful,” Lyra said.

“I have an idea. Can you keep a look out while I go inside myself and try and find a solution? It’s not the ideal place to do it, but I can’t have you three in danger because of something I haven’t fixed.”

“We can all look out,” Lyra said, flying down and settling on his shoulder.

Dinsy joined her, settling down on the other. “Mind if we put the honey pot on your head, only it’s a sharer.”

“If you keep your eyes peeled for trouble, you can do anything you want.”

Dinsy leaned in close. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She kissed the top of his ear.

Josh took a breath, trying to rid himself of logistically impossible thoughts.

Host: Advanced intuitive hazard detection unsatisfactory. Host is protected, but host’s party is not. Please advise options.

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: Agreement disputed. Host’s safety is paramount, no other.

Host: Conclusion disputed. Host’s party should be protected as it may be instrumental to the host’s survival. Vella, for instance, is a healer and may heal the host. Fairies are essential for messages. The host’s authority should dictate who is vital to the host’s survival and not Tremelox-Alpha-Four.

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: Confirmed

Host: List options

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: Options processed

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: Suggest party formation. Host allots party status to each companion he wishes to protect. Tremelox-Alpha-Four will use knowledge of the companion stored in the host.

The host may form a party using the following commands:

- Command = [Form party of X members]

- List member names & race

- Command = [Disband party of X members]

Host: Add command to remove single or multiple members.

Tremelox-Alpha-Four:

- Command = [Remove X from party]

Host: Form a party of four members.

1. Host

2. Vella – Elf

3. Lyra – Fairy

4. Dinsy – Fairy

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: Party confirmed.

“There,” he said. “You should all be protected by my ring. You’re in my group now.”

“Does that mean we get more than kisses?” Lyra asked.

Chapter Eighteen

THE FOREST AGED as they passed through. Its trees crowded them, their trunks twisted and contorted, bullying the curving path and holding up a vast black canopy. Shadows spread hideous shapes, yawning with the day’s passing and gyrating as wind whispered through dry brown leaves. The ground changed. Vibrant grass withered. Moss, spongy and filled with vitality, soured, clinging to filth rather than rich loam, sucking in the light rather than spreading its warmth. All around, what once yelled life whimpered death as stagnant water encroached, and the stench of rot filled the air.

Josh slowed as they entered the swamp. With Vella, Lyra and Dinsy within his protection sphere, he became aware of every threat to them, and as they ventured further into the swamp, the flashes of red, purple and blue became more frequent.

Just about every predator threatened the fairies. Giant spiders wove vast webs in the hope of catching one. Huge toads lay in wait, their eyes barely above bubbling bogs. One crack of their whip-like tongues would end Lyra or crush Dinsy. High in the darkened canopy lurked a prince of the swamp. His feathers were so black they glistened with blue. The crow’s beady eyes tracked the party’s progress.

Josh was ready, whether the threat came from above, below, or even hurtled straight for them. He held his sword and knife, and under his clothes lurked his scale armor. Their workaround was a success. Josh would only have to strip to equip his stealth mode. It was a relief to know he’d not have to tread the land naked again, should he get separated from his clothes while battling.

Vella walked a little behind him, though in truth, it did not matter where she was. Josh could always see her. He knew before she did if a threat came her way. She had fallen quiet. The swamp’s absence of life brought the elf down. She was sunlight, and it reviled her.

The fairies, Lyra and Dinsy, perched on his shoulders. Both had passed beyond fear and occupied a place somewhere between there and abject terror. A trip to the swamp had sounded like an adventure, but it was no place for a fairy. Fairies were fae creatures. They sat upon toadstools, passing the time of day by listening to birds sing, and frogs croak. They created stories, inspired children, and flew through the air, showering the land with pretty sparkles.

They were not spider fodder, nor did their delicate bodies get munched on by warty toads.

“I don’t like it here,” said Dinsy, shivering and drawing her blue and pink wings around her, trying her best to dull their glow and go unnoticed.

“Me either,” said Lyra. “I don’t suppose we could turn around and never ever come back.”

Josh chuckled. “How many times do I have to tell you? I can see every threat to any of us for twenty yards. There is a spider over there. Its web spans those two trees, and poison drips from its fangs. A cluster of frogs lurks in the muddy soup to the left of our path. All covet both of you, while the huge snake wrapped around the trunk a little behind us wanted to squeeze the life from Vella. I grant you, this place is full of dour creatures, but Thadius is right. There are none I can’t handle.”

“Plus,” said Vella. “I can heal you.”

It was difficult to know how good Vella was at healing—at least, from Josh’s point of view. The instant he was hurt, his bots began the healing process. Vella’s magic did help—he wouldn’t deny that. But rather than heal him with mana, she tended to infuse the bots with vigor—feed the tiny repair machines. He reckoned, but didn’t know, that the bots might even be able to regrow his limbs should he lose any. However, that was a test he didn’t want to attempt while in the swamp.

He didn’t doubt Vella could heal the fairies. He doubted she could cure them of everything that might happen in what he considered an awful place. But he wasn’t in the business of turning back. He was Josh Underwood. He was a mighty man who would protect his girls.

“Why the hell does glowroot and bang-bang paste only occur here?” he asked.

“Bang-bang paste is only found in the bang-bang tree, and the bang-bang tree is only found here. So, you can only get bang-bang paste from the swamp.”

There was no denying her logic, but at the same time, she hadn’t really answered his question. Nevertheless, the sound of her voice was much better than the heavy silence that had settled over them—the type of gloom that precedes agonizing death.

“And the glowroot paste?”

“That’s easy,” said Lyra with a slight tremor in her voice. “The glowroot only serves a purpose where all is dark. As we go farther into the swamp, the forest’s dark canopy snuffs out all light. Without the glowroot, you could see nothing. Everything serves a purpose, and that is the glowroot’s.”

“It lets you see your death coming,” Lyra said. She wasn’t in the cheeriest of moods.

“Nonsense,” said Josh. “That’s enough of all that. Lyra, you are a very capable magician. You shouldn’t fear this place. It should fear you! See that spider over there? See its web hanging between those two gnarled and twisted branches? I’ll bet if you shot a magical blast at it, it would wither and die. And you, Dinsy, see that toad sitting on that slimy rock under that sludge fall? I bet you could put an arrow right through its eyes and into its near-dead brain. Come on, girls! We are the threat here, not them. So, let’s rip through this damnable swamp and harvest the glowroot, then on to the bang-bang tree and get the paste we need to kill the trolls.”

“You’re right,” said Lyra, and she sent a bolt of brilliant emerald magic shooting for the spider. It struck the vile creature, its vile body exploding and spraying foul ichor everywhere. “Damn right!” she said and flexed.

“Screw them!” screamed Lyra, nocking an arrow, her blue-pink iridescence spraying fresh light about. She shot the arrow straight at the toad. It slammed into the grotesque reptile, and the creature slipped from the toadstool, its body resting on the sludge until the gloop folded over the stone-dead thing and pulled it under, never seen again.

“See!” shouted Josh. “Who are the kings and queens of the swamp now?”

“I am,” came the reply, as the pool before them bubbled and belched and heaved and grew as a beast emerged, slime and mud dripping from it, dead vegetation tangled in its limp hair that fell around a singular eye staring through an oily brown meniscus.

“A boggart!” Vella gasped.

“A what?”

“A boggart,” the boggart replied.

“Which one are you?” Josh asked the boggart.

“Which what?” the boggart asked, its voice as deep as a swamp’s belch.

“Which are you, King or Queen, for surely you can’t be both!” Josh said.

“I am king.”

Josh eyed the boggart up. The red haze covering his vision like a gossamer film told him the boggart had no magic nor any poison, which left only a physical battle—along with the mental one that always occurred during any fight.

“Kings have castles. Is this swamp your castle, Boggart?”

“Not all kings have castles,” the boggart pointed out.

Josh took a step closer to it, careful to tread only on the solid path rather than slip into the bog. “Yes, they do,” he said. “Every king has a castle. Without one, you can’t be king.”

“Since when?” the boggart asked, rising from the swamp a little more.

Its height was beginning to concern Josh. He estimated it to be around ten feet tall and four wide. While it might not have the sharpest mind, he bet it packed a powerful punch. “Since forever.”

“Oh,” it said.

“Do you want to fight me, Boggart? So far, I’ve killed the evil sorcerer Maechellion, the five harpies of Endover, a nest of giant boars, and a pack of necrotic wolves—in no particular order. Shall I add you to that list?”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” said the boggart.

“Then let us pass. We wish to collect some glowroot and some bang-bang paste.”

It blinked its eye. “You wish to collect bang-bang paste?”

“From the bang-bang tree, yes.”

It belched, which might have been a laugh, but the stench that enveloped them prevented Josh from overthinking it.

“Fuck, that’s foul,” Josh said.

“Isn’t it? I will let you pass. You sound way too fearsome for me to bother with. But,” it said, “I’ll make you a deal. If you manage to collect the paste of the bang-bang tree without a single one of its spines lodging in your skin, then you can walk from this swamp without any of my creatures bothering you. If just one spine hits and sticks, then we will all attack at once. How does that sound?”

Josh didn’t like the sound of it one tiny bit. “Spines?” he asked.

“More shooting seed pods, but they’re sharp,” the boggart said, not sounding quite as slow as he had. “They lodge into passing animals who spread them far and wide.”

Josh eyed the boggart. “If that’s the case, why aren’t bang-bang trees everywhere?”

Boggart shrugged, a huge lump of rotted vegetation sliding off it. “They keep dying, I guess.”

A bad feeling gathered in Josh’s gut.

“Deal!” he said.

“Damn,” said Lyra. “I wanted to kill it.” She scrunched her face up and gave the boggart evils.

“Fairy bad. Fairy killed my spider,” the boggart said. “This way.”

It strode along beside the path, washing mud and slurry over it, kicking up a foul smell that should have remained buried forever.

“Are you the only boggart here?” Josh asked, wanting to strike up a conversation with the creature to take his mind off the filth and decay that surrounded him.

“One boggart to a swamp. You could say that the swamp is my castle.”

“No, Mrs. Boggart?”

“We’re not like that. We are created by the swamp to rule over the swamp and to keep it swampy.”

“I’ve changed my mind, Boggart,” said Josh. “You are the king here.”

“I am, aren’t I? Look, there’s the glowroot up there. How much do you need?”

Josh followed his pointed finger. Sure enough, an eerie white glow spread through the swamp. “Are those webs?” he asked.

“Spiders—loads of them. The glowroot attracts moths and flies and things like that.”

“And the spiders eat them?”

“Not quite,” said the boggart. “The moths and flies and things like that attract frogs and toads and things like that.”

“And the spiders eat them?” Josh asked.

“Not quite,” said the boggart. “The frogs and toads and things like that attract rats and snakes and things like that.”

Josh stood, his hands on his hips. “And the spiders eat them?”

“Not quite,” the boggart said. “The rats and snakes and things like that attract tree wolves and eagles and things like that. The spiders eat them.”

Josh took a breath. “The spiders eat wolves?”

“Among other things. The alligators are wise to them now.”

They walked closer to the light, coming to the first webs. At first, Josh couldn’t see any spiders, just huge black holes in every web not much smaller than him. Then he noticed dark lines radiating from every hole. But, just as the dawn of realization broke over Josh’s dim horizon, one of the black blobs moved.

The one thing fairies weren’t noted for in any of Elowen’s books on magical and mystical creatures was swearing. One text went so far as to say that no one had ever heard a fairy swear. Of course, humans barely interacted with fairies, so knew shit.

“Fuck me sideways,” said Lyra. “That’s one huge mother-fucking spider.”

And it was.

Josh flinched at the mere sight of it, making the boggart belch continuously.

“Is that you laughing?” Josh asked.

“It was. I can’t believe a warrior that has killed everything you claim to have is afraid of a little spider.”

The boggart had a point, but the spider was hardly little. Still, he didn’t want to appear weak, so he quickly thought up an excuse. “It’s the hairy legs,” he said. “Reminded me of a past girlfriend. Trust me, she was scary.”

“Hmmm,” said the boggart. “I wouldn’t know about that. It’s the webs I hate. They stick to your eye.” The creature began fighting through the webs, sending the giant spiders skittering all over the swamp. They were the size of small horses—if horses had eight hairy legs.

“Keep calm, girls,” Josh said. “I’m not getting any notifications to say we’re in danger.”

None of them answered. The fairies' earlier bravado appeared to have vanished, while Vella hadn’t said anything since the boggart had risen from the swamp. Despite his words, Josh’s guts were in turmoil. It was harder not to fight. Walking calmly through it just ramped up the tension within him. When he fought, the ring took up much of his thinking space. Plus, he focused on keeping himself alive, which occupied his mind quite well. The way the spiders quietly skittered around them didn’t help either. He watched in horror as a pregnant one climbed a tree, hundreds of tiny spiders running around inside her stretched gut.

The path began to glow. Ghost-like fingers reached across it, stretching from fat, stumpy trees with barely a crown of leaves. Boggart bent, fishing in the bog. He pulled a glowing root up with a mighty tug, snapping it and handing it to Josh.

“Is this enough? Should get a bucket’s worth, if not more.”

“What do you think?” Josh asked Vella, who’d gone quite pale, even for an elf.

“Yes?” she answered with a question, her forehead creased, and her body scrunched up as small as she could get it.

A series of belches sounded from the boggart as he chuckled again. “Poor thing recognizes the spiders. I’m surprised she did. You don’t see many outside of swamps. The elves killed them all—deservedly so, given their name.”

“What name?”

“Elfeater spiders,” Vella squeaked as a mighty bang sounded, followed by the pitter-patter of what could only be sheets of heavy raindrops. In the distance, a spider fell from its web.

The boggart clapped, spraying slurry over everything close. “Oh, it got one! That’s a mighty distance for a bang-bang kill.”

Josh’s bad feeling evolved into mild terror.

“A bang-bang kill?” he asked as a dozen spiders devoured their fallen comrade.

Chapter Nineteen

"THIS IS AS FAR as I go," the boggart said. "Don't want to get ripped to shreds by that damn tree."

"It's quite formidable," Josh agreed.

The tree was impressive in a macabre sense. It sat atop a mound rising from the swamp guised as a sanctuary from its fetid glop. At least, it might have resembled a sanctuary were it not littered with bones. But given a choice between the skeletal remains and the massed spider ranks behind them, Josh was definitely erring toward the tree.

“It’s an abomination of a creation,” said the boggart.

Josh blinked in surprise, pretty sure that the boggart qualified for that description, too. “Not to your taste, then?”

“Kills everything that goes near it. All the carcasses pile up, they rot, leaves get stuck in the bones, rot to mulch, and before you know it, there’s a bloody great island spoiling my beautiful swamp. I mean, what decent creature likes dry land? No offense.”

“None taken.”

“And it ruins everything around it, too. Its kill zone is massive, and if it catches the right wind, well, they carry, I don’t mind telling you. One minute you’re minding your own business; the next moment, there’s a bang, and you’re stabbed in the ass.”

“Nasty,” Josh agreed. “So, in theory, it’s your enemy.”

“In theory, yes.”

“And it’s going to try and kill me when I harvest the paste, so I’m its enemy, too.”

“You are. What do you know? We have something in common.”

“Have you ever heard the saying, the enemy of my enemy is my friend?”

The boggart stroked its head. “Not that I can recall, but I like it.”

“Makes us friends, and friends don’t kill friends,” Josh said. “So, what do you say we just forget all this I’ll kill you, and you kill me nonsense.”

“But I’m not going to kill you. They are.” He swept his arms around, indicating all the spiders. “They’re my friends, and you’re their enemy. She killed one earlier with her green magic. So, while you might be my friend, she isn’t, and as you’re the friend of my enemy, then you have to be my enemy.” He held his hands up. “Hey! Don’t hate the player.”

“Hmmm,” said Josh. “I don’t suppose you hate toads. The other fairy killed one of them.”

“Fuckin’ love toads,” said the boggart. “They’re my brothers.”

“Then I’ve got nothing. Let’s go back to hating each other.”

"Sounds good to me. Cheerio," said the boggart with a muddy wave. "Oh, before I go, are you a betting man?"

"A betting man?" Josh considered it. "Not anymore."

He'd liked a little flutter during his previous life, but then, he'd spent much of his life hunting thrills. But monster hunting was proving exciting enough. Besides, for all his progress in the land of Mythelore, he still didn’t have a single coin to his name.

"Not anymore?"

"I don’t need the kicks. Got plenty to do.”

“Like?”

“I slay monsters," he said to the monster.

“Monsters? Scary things. Good luck with that.”

“It’s all about the planning, really. Luck doesn’t come into it. We have a team.”

“Had,” the monster pointed out.

“Not yet. Still have at the minute. But, that’s why I don’t—"

“Bet,” the boggart said. “So, no, nothing?”

“Nope.”

"Shame," said the boggart. "If you had, we could have had a little wager on what would get you first."

Josh assessed the options. "Were I a betting man, and I say this hypothetically, I'd have bet on the spiders."

"Hmmm." The boggart blinked. "I think the spiders, too, but you might get a pod in the eye. That'd put you down, no doubt about that."

A slight tremor rippled the ground. "What the hell was that?"

"A warning," the boggart said. "I'd duck if I was you. Cheerio."

The boggart sunk into the swamp, the mud and detritus folding over its head with one final belch.

"Not sure that's the last we've seen of him," Josh said.

"Doubt it," said Vella. "He'll watch the slaughter."

“Confident, then?”

“No.”

Josh regarded the spiders. "They're attacking whatever the outcome, aren't they?"

"Yes. Lyra killed one."

“You told me too,” Lyra reminded Josh.

"Best duck," said Dinsy, ducking.

"I think we're out of range." Josh ducked anyway.

A mighty crack sounded, followed by a brief but ominous silence, followed by a whooshing noise. Josh waited, holding Vella down. "Pitter-patter bit," he explained as the arrow pods thudded into the mud and swamp.

"Have you got a plan for getting the paste and then getting us out of here?" Lyra asked.

“Really don’t want to be torn wing from wing,” said Dinsy.

"Nope. No plan. You?" Josh replied.

"I thought you were the statistician," Dinsy said.

"Nope. Elowen is. She comes up with plans.” He thought about it. “You mean tactician. If I were a tactician, I’d work on a plan once we know the frequency of the bangs. As a statistician, I would say we're a little screwed. See the difference?"

“Got it,” said Dinsy.

"Can you try being a tactician, then," Lyra asked.

"Might be wise."

The bang-bang tree resembled an oak that had seen too many horror films. Its black and twisted trunk rose to an equally black crown that spread everywhere. However, it finished shy of the swamp trees and left a narrow, irregular gap around its perimeter, which resulted in a curtain of light falling to the forest floor and making it look like the tree was about to beam aboard a spaceship. It also caused a small but lush band of grass to grow that looked like a pretty green fence. The contrast between vibrant color and the barrenness of certain death made it look like a gaslighting psychopath had created the whole scene.

"Climbable," Josh concluded upon appraising the trunk. Which only left one question unanswered. Did the spear-like pods only shoot out from its trunk?

It was the skeletons that told him no. They were pretty bird-like. He squeezed his eyes and peered at the canopy. Sure enough, a couple of birds had settled in it.

The ground trembled again. They all ducked, and the crack rang out. A dull thud followed the comforting pitter-patter. A second thump came shortly after. Josh raised his head. Sure enough, both birds lay on the mound, several pods sticking out of them.

"That rules that out," Josh said, mentally crossing, run like hell and climb the tree off his list. “Right, let’s list our options. One—”

Silence.

“Anyone?” Josh asked.

“Got nothing,” Vella replied.

“Nope,” said Lyra and Dinsy.

“Okay, then let’s list what we can’t avoid. First, there’s no way those spiders are letting us get out of here with or without a single seed pod piercing our skin, agreed?”

“Agreed,” said Vella, Lyra and Dinsy.

“Agreed,” said the boggart.

Josh whipped around. The boggart’s eye widened. His head poked just above the surface.

“Ooops,” he added, followed by a slurping sound as he ducked back under the swamp.

“Well, that confirms it. He was just too chicken to take me on.”

“Wasn’t,” said the boggart.

Josh scanned the swamp’s surface but saw no sign of the creature.

“To remind you all of the first point. We aren’t getting out of here,” Josh summed up.

The ground trembled again.

“Duck,” said Vella.

They didn’t need reminding. “Did anyone count the time-lapse?” Josh asked.

“Huh?” said Dinsey.

“Eh?” said Lyra.

“Thirty-one,” Vella said, and the crack rang out.

“Thirty-one what?” Josh asked her once the spine-shower had died down.

“I counted to thirty-one.”

“With or without ‘ands’?”

“Eh?” she replied.

“One and two and three—that sort of thing.”

“Eh?”

“I take it without. Okay, so there’s enough time to get to the trunk but not enough time to avoid a damn good piercing. Let’s say we make the trunk. Where’s the paste?”

“Under the bark,” Vella answered. “Peel back the bark, slough off the paste.” She opened her knapsack and handed him a small bucket. “Put in there.”

“Ah!” Josh said. “So, the paste fires the spines from the trunk—the paste is the explosive.”

“Yes.”

“Got it. Right, we’re at the trunk. We have our paste. We can’t go back into the swamp, so we have to go down or up. Down is out, and we have no tunneling gear, so it’s up. Trouble is, I can’t fly.”

“Arabus can,” Vella said. “Arabus flew us before.”

“Yes,” said Josh. “The only trouble with that is we have no Arabus.”

“No, but you have us,” said Lyra.

A plan came to Josh. Even he had to admit it wasn’t a great one. It was fraught with peril and was highly unlikely to succeed. But it was the only plan he had, so—

“Right, this is what we do. Girls—as in you two fairies—you have two choices. One: you’re going to fly through that gap, go get Arabus and bring him back here.”

“Nope,” they both said.

“Two: You get eaten by spiders.”

“One, please,” said Lyra.

“One for me, too,” agreed Dinsy.

“Great!” Josh said, quite enthused.

They had a plan.

“Okay, let’s do it. Girls, are you ready?”

“Not quite,” Lyra said, and she scrambled over and gave him a long, hard kiss. “Happy to serve you, master.”

“Not your master.”

“But you are,” said Dinsy. “You are our master, and we are all your fairies. Come to the attic, and we’ll show you.”

It was hardly the time for inappropriate thoughts regarding two-foot-high fairies, but he had them anyway. “Wait for the next bang,” he said and regretted it instantly. “I meant the tree.”

“Of course,” said Lyra, just as the ground trembled.

As soon as the needle shower was over, the fairies shot up, aiming straight for the gap in the swamp’s canopy. The swamp came alive. The spiders chittered, rubbing their legs together in annoyance. Frogs spat venomous croaks. A great rustle erupted from the canopy as dozens of crows flew downward, along the underside, then streaming toward the gap.

Lyra and Dinsy didn’t hesitate, trails of sparkles shooting from them as they shot straight up like two fireworks. But the crows were no slouches either, and they had less distance to cover.

“Hurry!” Josh screamed.

“Yes, hurry!” Vella cried.

The crows neared. The fairies rose. There was only one outcome—they would meet at the gap. Josh counted down to the next explosion of deadly needles. He was at twelve, then thirteen. The fairies closed on the gap, but the crows closed faster.

“They’re not going to make it,” Josh cried in frustration.

“Wanna bet on it?” asked the boggart.

Josh whipped around. “Will you just fuck off?”

“No, this is my home. I bet they won’t make it. Come on, you know you want to.”

“Well, I’d bet the same, so there’s no point.”

“Alright, keep your shirt on.”

“Not all the time,” said Vella.

The fairies slowed as the crows crowded the gap.

“Oh, this is going to be a slaughter,” said the boggart, rubbing his hands together.

“Do you mind?” Josh asked. “They’re my friends.”

“They’re not—"

Before the boggart could finish, the fairies separated. Lyra shot one way around the tree, Dinsy the other.

“What doing?” Vella asked.

“It’s brilliant!” Josh said. “They’re splitting them up. Watch.”

The crows divided into two groups, speeding after the fairies.

“Twenty-five,” Josh said.

“They won’t make it. The tree will get them,” the boggart said.

“Bet it won’t,” Josh said, gaining confidence.

“How much?”

“Will you fucking-well shut up?”

Lyra came back into sight. Dinsy closed on her friend. The ground rumbled.

“Come on!” Josh urged. “Now!” he shouted.

Just as they were about to collide, the girls shot upward and away, leaving the crows to crash into each other.

“Bang!” the bang-bang tree sang, launching its spines. Josh didn’t even duck. The spines strafed the crows, one dropping after the other as their corpses rained down. He scanned the falling bodies but saw no sign of glitter trails. “I think they got away,” he said.

“I think you’re right,” said the bogart. It cleared its throat. “I know we didn’t bet, but I think you deserve something anyway. Collect your bang-bang paste and go free. Nothing will attack you in my kingdom.”

“That’s very kind of you. Do you mean it?”

The boggart belched a few times, then leaned close. “No! Of course not! We’re going to gut you!”

“Fine,” said Josh as he returned his attention to the tree. “But you might as well know I have a plan.”

“So have I.”

Josh somehow doubted that the boggart knew what a plan was.

“Go!” Josh cried, picking Vella up and racing for the bang-bang tree.

He used every ounce of speed he had as he narrowed the distance to the tree, skipping over corpses and squashing dead crows. Within moments, they were at the tree. He set Vella down in front of him, ripping the bark with his knife and prying it open to reveal the precious white paste.

“Scrape away, baby,” he said.

“Scraping,” she said, and she sloughed the paste into a bucket.

Josh worked the bark, leaning around her and making a Josh and Vella-shaped hole. “Okay, we should be safe until we have enough paste.”

“Bucket’s full,” said Vella.

“Scale armor.” Josh called for his heaviest armor.

He wrapped his arms around her and turned his back to the tree, tucking in everything he could. The ground trembled. Silence fell. A crack exploded around them, searing heat enveloping them one moment, then gone the next as thousands of spines launched in every direction.

“Safe,” said Vella.

Josh relaxed a little. “Not too safe,” he said as the spiders gathered on the island’s perimeter.

“Safe,” she insisted. “Spiders can’t come—spines kill them.”

Josh furrowed his brow. “Doesn’t seem to be discouraging them,” he said. “Bastard!” he shouted, noticing the flames for the first time. “The boggart’s set fire to all the swamp gases.”

“Crap,” said Vella as the spiders raced toward them.

Josh tucked the elf behind him and drew his sword. The spiders closed, a great wall of black venom and dripping fangs. The first reached them, Josh struck, slashing his sword, chopping legs and stabbing at their thoraxes. His speed amazed him, the sword a blur. The ground trembled. A spider bit him, taking a chunk out of his leg. The crack rang out. Spines exploded from the tree, obliterating the spiders, tearing through them, ichor flying out in waves.

“Well, that was a bit fucked up,” he said, looking at a sea of spider corpses, squinting as another wall of black marched toward him.

“Let’s get out of here,” Vella said.

“Couldn’t agree more.”

She scampered up the trunk, bucket in hand. Josh sheathed his sword and followed, pulling himself onto the first branch and then scaling them easily. They reached the canopy’s top, stopping in a small niche.

“No time to work it,” Josh said. “Gonna have to rely on my durability.”

He pulled her into his lap, folding himself around her and covering her as best he could. “This is going to hurt,” he said.

The tree shook. The bang erupted. Scores of spines pricked his arms and legs, piercing his neck and head.

“Heal,” said Vella.

“Renew,” she added.

A burst of mana passed through him, a stream of vigor following on its heels. Josh waited, knowing it was a matter of time before the spines erupted again.

“We need to hold out until Arabus comes.”

“Yes,” she said. “Until the great bird comes.”

Bang!

“Heal! Renew!” Vella sighed. “Mana and vigor won’t last forever.”

Chapter Twenty

A CURTAIN OF STEAM ROSE, its aroma a mix of elderflower and rowanwood. It made Josh heady, the plastered ceiling coming in and out of focus as his mind danced on the very edge of consciousness. Although, a rather annoying blue flash pulsed in the corner of his mind’s eye, demanding attention and ruining his peace. Something about it was familiar.

“We made it,” he muttered as he selected the pulsing blue.

The notification would show some advancement—that much was certain. Arabus had come, Cassandra riding the great bird, but quite what they had collected from the top of the bang-bang tree had been uncertain for a while. Josh had absorbed so many hits from the damnable tree that he was unrecognizable. Once Arabus had flown to safety and set the package down, Cassandra had peeled back the prickly parcel’s outer skin to reveal an exhausted elf inside holding a small bucket of white paste.

The external husk of the strange fruit was Josh, and pod spines coated every inch of his underside. Vella had long ago exhausted her mana and vigor, the tree’s constant attack wearing Josh to the point that his scale armor had failed, and death was a whisper away. But the ring needed him to endure, so it wasn’t about to let him slip away. Instead, it accepted the damage, integrated it, and allowed his body to live even with it. After all, what was a few thousand pricks to a hero like Josh? It was hardly as catastrophic as he’d endured before. It wasn’t like he’d broken every bone in his body, was it?

The notification gave him a point in durability, one in speed and agility, and two in combat instinct—four points for one hell of a lot of pain.

Hardly seemed worth it.

It seemed to him a small payoff for such a devastating experience, but then, he hadn’t fought an army. He hadn’t held a narrow pass against an overwhelming force. He’d waltzed into great danger without the correct preparation and had paid the price. He’d done nothing heroic, quite the opposite. He’d been a fucking idiot. He’d played the big man, leading his three friends deep into hostile territory only to be handed his ass. Had he not been so arrogant, he’d have taken Cassandra, who could have blasted every spider in close proximity. He’d have had Arabella by his side, firing flaming arrows into the gaseous bog. Or he might have listened to Elowen, who could have researched all and laid the groundwork for an effective, simple mission—which explained the plus two in combat instinct.

The ring was basically saying, here’s an ounce of intelligence. Use it next time.

“Fair enough,” he said to himself as he relaxed in the steaming bath. “If you have overwhelming force, use it. No more playing fair.”

He squinted, a face, no two, appearing at the very edge of his focus. One had an emerald halo, while the other was bluey-pink. Both became clearer as they came closer, their identities soon apparent.

“Lyra? Dinsy? What are you doing here?”

The two fairies perched on the edge of his bath. Lyra sat, and Dinsy followed suit, both dangling their legs in his bathwater.

“We wanted to thank you for looking after us, and I wanted to apologize,” Lyra said.

“It’s me who should apologize to you. I was the one who took you into the swamp. We should have gone in stronger.”

“Perhaps,” said Dinsy, “but then, mistakes are made, and it’s how we react to them that’s important. You got us out of there. You never tried to save your own skin first. Instead, you thought of us.”

“It’s what you do,” said Lyra. “I should know. You’ve been nothing but nice to us since we attacked you, and to think I accused you of using us like all the rest.” She bowed her head.

“Oh, please,” said Josh. “I’m as bad as the rest of them. Look at me! I’m using you to run my errands for the privilege of a bit of dusty old attic space. I should be paying you.”

“No!” Lyra said. “No, you don’t! You know!” She narrowed her eyes. “You know your heart. You’re a good man, Josh Underwood, and you know it. You spent three hours curled around Vella without flinching. She thinks you took over three hundred attacks for her. We all know you could have run from that place and left us if you wanted. With your toughness, you’d have made it, too. And I’ll bet it never occurred to you. I’ll bet this is the first time you’re thinking, yeah, I could have. Don’t belittle your courage, Josh. You stand tall where other men wither.”

Her words bowled him over. But taking compliments and having tremendous self-esteem were two things that didn’t sit right with him—never had. But he did have a good sense of humor.

“What was that last bit?”

Dinsy sniffed, wiping a tear from her eye. “You stand tall where other men wither.”

“Are you talking about morning wood?” He lowered himself into the bath to hide his smile.

Dinsy covered her mouth, her shoulders jerking as she stifled her laughter.

“Don’t!” said Lyra.

Josh sat up, the bathwater sloshing over them. “Look,” he said. “I want to let you into a little secret. This hero thing is all new to me. This land is new to me. Yes, I get things wrong. I know that. I’m sure you do, too. But just because I’m me and six foot tall, and you’re you and small, doesn’t mean I’m any better than you. You don’t need to come in here all reverent and pretend I’m any more heroic than you are, and before you say anything, you know it! I sat in a fucking tree getting stabbed in the butt—that was it. I didn’t fly into a murder of crows, run rings around them, then fly away by the skin of my teeth and risk getting shot to pieces—you two did. You rescued Vella and me. So, at best, we’re even. Got it?”

“We did lead those crows on a merry dance, didn’t we?” said Lyra.

“They were quite angry,” said Dinsy.

“So, can we forget all this nonsense?” Josh asked.

Lyra cleared her throat. “On one condition.”

“What?”

“We want in,” she said.

Josh narrowed his eyes. “In on what? Because if you’re talking about my harem, then I need to point out some incompatibilities to you.”

Dinsy laughed. “No, silly.” She stopped, her expression returning to serious. “But don’t discount what new heights of pleasure a whole bunch of fairies can bring. We have moves, you know.”

He winked at her. “I know you’ve got moves, Dinsy.”

“Hey! What about me? I got moves, too,” Lyra protested.

“You’ve definitely got moves,” Josh agreed.

“But we can talk about that another time,” Lyra said. “We want in on the Misfits.”

“We qualify,” Dinsy said. “We were tossed out of our home. We’ve no friends apart from you a lot. The locals hate us. We’re bigger misfits than you!”

“I bet you’re not. I bet if you heard my story, I’d win,” Josh said.

“Try us,” Dinsy said.

“Yeah, try us. We don’t know anything about you, so go on.” Lyra poked her tongue at him.

“Okay, well, all my friends were killed by aliens. I was tossed through a wormhole and traveled just under two hundred years to get here. Any family I had is dead or living in another universe. Until a few weeks ago, I knew no one in this land. So, I am the original Misfit because I don’t even belong to this land, let alone this universe. Beat that!”

Lyra stood, fluttered over to him and settled on his shoulder. “That’s the saddest story I’ve ever heard.”

Dinsy settled on the other shoulder. “You win. You’re the original Misfit.”

“Well,” he said. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re a part of our monster-hunting gang. I’ll have a word with the others, but let’s say you two represent all the others. So you get two perches at our table and two votes in any choice we make.”

Dinsy leaned in. “And the other? Do we get to join the harem?” she whispered.

“Yes,” said Lyra. “Associates.”

Josh smirked. “There are certain issues.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lyra said. “Never thought about having a wing-job?”

“Or a thirty-eight-way?” Dinsy added.

Josh settled back once Lyra and Dinsy left. He was pleased they were staying—that they wanted to get involved. There was something quite therapeutic about them. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but talking to them, being with them, relaxed him. He’d sort out the Misfit thing tomorrow, but the other thing—joining his harem? He had the vague feeling they might actually be serious—that they wanted to add themselves to his family. Not in a I’m boning all thirty-odd of you daily kind of way but in the true sense of belonging. They wanted the love and affection associated with a family. They wanted to be more than work colleagues. He'd resolved to speak to Arabella about it, and, as if on cue, the door creaked, and a slice of light shone before it shut again.

“Arabella?” he called.

“No,” Vella said.

“Oh, Vella, you okay?”

“Fine, now you’re okay.”

She appeared in the misty candlelight, her breasts glistening as steam brushed her skin. She bit her lip, nerves evident, then stepped into the bath, turning her back to him as she sat between his legs and lay against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her. “You’re safe now, baby,” he said.

“Safe, yes, safe.” She tilted her head up. “We don’t die easy,” she said.

“No, we don’t die easy.”

“Will you go back and kill the boggart?”

He considered his answer. “No, no, I don’t think so. It hurts no one—nor do the spiders. I might go back and talk to it. Tell it we’ll leave it alone if it stays in its kingdom. But that sounds a bit too—”

“Human,” she said. “Elves the same. Think they own everything. Make it a friend. That should do it.”

“Yes.”

She snuggled back, lifting her legs and resting them on the bath’s ledge. Taking his hand, she pressed it to her breast. “You like?”

“Yes,” he said, his erection pushing between them.

“Yes, you like,” she said. “It is time. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know that.”

“Good,” she said, and they rested there for a while, their embrace enough as each became lost in their own thoughts. “Stay like this. This is Vella and Josh, not the other.”

He grunted. “You mean stuck up a tree in all manner of peril? Or do you mean diving into a gorge and saving my ass? Or being attacked by a crazy boar? This is better. Yes, this is Vella and Josh.”

“Other is, too. I think we’ll always get in trouble.”

“And you’ll always heal me.”

“And you’ll always protect me.”

“Yes.”

She spun around, kneeling and sliding her arms around him. Their lips met, not softly nor urgently, but fitting together, a perfect pair. He tasted her, his tongue gently probing as he rose to meet her, his chest fitting her, pressing against her breasts. They stood as one, her leading him from the bath, holding him in the middle of the room.

Her hand slid down him, searching out his cock and rubbing it with the flat of her palm. “Show me how,” she said.

“Oh baby, yes,” he said, not wanting anything more from her than everything, knowing she would give it.

He walked her back, falling to the bed with her, nudging her legs apart. “Like this?” he asked, uncertain if she was ready but sensing she wanted to make love, that the rest could wait.

“Yes, now. Show me.”

He lifted an eyebrow but accepted her subtle admission. “Like this,” he said, guiding her hand down. “Hold me close. Hold me over. You got it?”

“Yes,” she said, folding her fingers around him, hovering his tip close to her bald pussy,

He let her hand go, grabbing her other and placing it on her sex. “Open your lips and guide me in. Understand?”

“Yes,” she said, adjusting her hips as she pried herself open. “There,” she said. “Just there.”

Josh pressed gently, his tip touching her moist flesh, feeling the nub of her pubic bone. “A bit lower, baby. Just a bit lower.”

She shifted under him. “That?”

He pushed again, feeling resistance but understanding that once more, he had to push through to break nature’s seal. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said.

He eased himself in, her resistance over quickly. She gasped, biting down, shifting, then inhaling as he slid in deeper.

“Stop,” she said. “Stop. A moment. Let me get used to you.”

“Baby, we’ve got the rest of our lives to get used to each other.”

“Yes,”

He kissed her as she adjusted and after a few moments she broke off the kiss and nodded.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”

He slid in.

“I love you, Josh of Underwood.”

“I love you, Vella of Elarathon.”

“Misfit.”

“Yes, Misfit.”

Chapter Twenty-One

THERE WAS, Josh decided, no better way to wake up than with a beautiful girl on either side of him. It was a luxury he'd never experienced on Earth. He'd known men who'd had threesomes, and they all boasted about their prowess and how they'd had two girls climbing up the wall in ecstasy.

The truth behind it, Josh found, was quite different. Somehow, there was less urgency about the whole affair. Perhaps it was the increased interaction or the need to switch positions regularly. He found that while he had his pleasure on his mind, the need to satisfy an extra person focused him more on someone else's pleasure and less on his.

Not that he had to worry about running out of cum. His balls were rocked and stocked with the stuff. The constant vigor buffs Vella sent his way had catapulted his virility to new heights. He'd cum twice that morning and was about to spill his load again. The only choice he had to make was in or on whom. Elowen currently rode his cock, while Arabella perched on his face grinding her pussy into him, which distracted him, but only delayed the inevitable.

"I'm gonna cum," he said and eased her off him, sliding out from under Elowen. "You both get some this time."

Yeah, it was a dream that he didn't have to wake up from. He rested his hands on their heads, letting them take him over the edge.

"So, what have we got on today?" he asked as he dressed.

"You, me and Thadius have a meeting first," said Elowen. "We have the market figures back from Thamian, so we can set budgets and work out where we are."

"Sounds wonderful. I'll bet you can't wait, Arabella."

Arabella hopped into the bath. "I'm not coming. That stuff bores me to death, and if I see too many figures, my mind goes to mush. Els will sort it."

The bath was one of Cassandra's most remarkable achievements to date—magic-wise. It was always hot, full and clean. Quite how she managed it, no one knew. She merely said, "It's a naturist thing," and left it at that. No one had argued. No one had even bothered wondering how. It was fantastic, and that was all they needed to know.

"I'm going to get my new bow. Gerlophin should have it done today. I figured if I needed to be a dead-eye shot with the trolls, I'd best get myself some decent power."

"Wasn't your other one any good?"

"It was fine, but it was a city-girl bow—suited to a bit of hunting but not much more. This one will increase my range and force. He's making me fifty normal arrows and some infused ones that can hold flame longer. I’m gonna be badass blitzing those trolls."

"I'd like a bow," Josh announced. "It'd be nice to kill something without having it breathe right in my face. Most monsters have foul breath and don’t get me started on their feet."

"I'm going to practice with my sling after. Not too sure how much use I'll be against the trolls," Elowen said. "I don't fancy going against them with a sword, not if they're as tall as the books say."

"If the battle isn't suited to you, act as support. Not every mission will suit every person. We'll be attacking at night, yes?"

"Yup."

"Then we might want to come up with some way to communicate through light."

"How the heck would that work?" Arabella asked.

"A covered lantern would do it," Elowen said. "Reveal the light, cover it—do that in a recognizable sequence, and you have it."

"See," said Josh. "Support—work out ways to support the fighters."

"Got it. You ready?" Elowen asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be for an accounts meeting." He kissed Arabella goodbye.

Elowen grabbed his hand and dragged him out. "A good guild runs on a solid foundation of figures," she told him.

He grimaced. "My mind will be miles away. If I do stuff I hate, I'll think about our happy time this morning. So, when you're talking figures with Thadius and see my eyes glaze over, remember, I'm thinking of you doing stuff to me."

“What, like me licking your ass?”

“Yep, like that.”

"That reminds me, I should thank Cassandra for telling me about it."

"No," Josh said. "If anyone should thank her, it's me."

"To sum up," Thadius said. "The figures from Thamian look encouraging in the short term, but the growth forecast for the medium to long term is where we start raking in the gold. So, we must keep those gates open to grow and thrive. Therefore, we need to eliminate all monster activity in the area. If any springs up, we nip it in the bud."

"We need an early warning system," Josh said. "I think Lyra and Dinsy should be able to handle that."

"What have you got in mind?'

"Patrols. If we can get a map of the Hangsane's foothills, we should be able to work out a route so that one patrol at first light and one before dusk alert us to any monster activity."

"Agreed," said Thadius.

“Although,” Josh said, thinking a little further, “we must also ensure the quarries and mines are secure. Without something to sell, the market grinds to a halt. I’ll wager the resources form a good boundary point in the forest. If we were to set the patrols so they called from one to the next, checked in with the foreman and filled out a quick report of any anomalies in the area, or even had a brief conversation with them, we’d get a better feel for how it is there.”

Thadius scratched at his beard. “I think you’re right,” he said. “That would mean negotiating with the Stoneheart Guild. They’re an odd mix of dwarves, elves and goblins. There’s a hierarchy there. We’d need to strike a deal with the elves while getting the dwarf site managers onside, but if we want to know what’s going on in the mine, then we’ll have to build up a dialogue with the goblins. They can be odd.”

“Where do we start?” Josh asked. “Who has the say if it goes further?”

“The elves.”

“Then let’s sound them out. We can move on to a framework if we get their agreement.”

Thadius nodded. “Framework?”

“Kind of three-dimensional plan. You know what a dimension is, don’t you?”

“I’m not a complete imbecile.”

“Just checking.”

“To the figures,” Thadius said. “One point on market volume will get us the princely sum of four gold and thirty-four silver per week. I rounded up. If the market accelerates, then so do we. Therefore, knowing the market volume is four hundred gold per week, and with an assumed markup of two, as is common in the excavating industry, the pits and mines are extracting two hundred gold’s worth of product each week, or just shy of thirty gold per day. I believe there are ten sites, or were once, so that’s three gold each a day—averaged, of course.”

“Okay,” said Josh. “So, if we were to leverage them for one point on output, that would net us two more gold a week. This would be passed on through the market, so the market value would go up by two points, and we’d get more gold at the front end, too.”

“You’re thinking of charging the Stoneheart Guild for their reports?” Elowen asked.

“No. I’m thinking of charging them for the fairies to stop by and check on them. I take it the elves are managers?”

“They own the various pits, yes. The dwarves are contracted labor, as are the goblins.”

“Then we sell the add-on that they’ll get a productivity report daily if they want. So, our pitch is simple. One point for specific resource center protection. Ten silver a week for us to prepare activity reports while we’re there. A further fee is applicable if they need messages transported there or back.”

“I take it the fairies get paid for this service?” Elowen asked.

“A consideration, but we can sort that out at a proper meeting. Everyone should vote on how we split the income.” Josh sat back. “Anything else?”

Thadius sucked his cheeks in. “No, I don’t think we have any real issues until the money begins rolling in. We have thirty-two gold left from the original one hundred.” His expression softened. “For the first time in a long while, I feel quite relaxed about my finances. Judging by your insight, Josh, it might continue for a while.”

Josh shrugged. “It’s common sense. We have a great product. We put our lives on the line to deliver it. We deserve to be rich, and our guild deserves to be wealthy. How else are we going to get people joining? They aren’t going to come for the food.”

Thadius grunted. “You’re right there. That’s something we’re going to have to address. I can’t be eating broth for the rest of my life.”

“What do you think? Go now?”

“Where?”

“The Stoneheart Guild.”

“Why not,” said Thadius. “No time like the present.”

Since the gates had opened, Endover had become a much more vibrant place. Even so, Thadius, Josh and Vella attracted attention wherever they went. Humans, while not quite as rare as Josh had been led to believe, were the exception rather than the norm. There was a total of five of them in Endover, and all currently resided in the adventurer’s lodge. Therefore, they’d decided it would be advantageous to bring Vella along to break the ice and hopefully get them a meeting with the guild principals. She skipped along, shrouded in her innocence, and wearing only her skimpy skirt and equally thin top. She jumped from one dry part of the road to another while avoiding the sluiceways, her bare feet wildly inappropriate for the town.

“You need boots,” Josh said. “If we’re spending any time in towns and cities, then you’re going to have to get some boots.”

“Don’t like boots.”

“What about if I pick them and get you something that’ll make you look even more sexy than you do now?”

“Then, like boots,” she said.

“We’ll go shopping after the meeting.” He paused. “If someone can lend me some money.”

“You can charge it to the guild house. Our credit is fine in Endover,” Thadius said.

“Good to know.” Josh draped his arm over Vella. “A pair of boots it is.”

“Here we are,” Vella said.

“You know the guild house?” he asked.

“Yes. Been here before.”

The Stoneheart Guild’s building was predictably stoney. Its thick, drystone walls rose to a slate roof from which two stout chimneys belched smoke. Iron braced its front door, a heavy knocker central. Thadius climbed its granite steps and wrapped on the door, standing back as it opened. An elf stood in the way, his back straight and attire formal. He tilted his head.

“May I help you?” he said, the first part coming out quite pleasantly but the second turning to a sneer as he looked Thadius up and down. “The tradesman’s entrance is around the back.”

Vella slid through. “Come to see Thornton Gray. Tell him, Vella. Ask if back still hurts.”

“Ms. Vella from Elarathon?”

“The very same. Still got a stick in your back, Dennilon? Heal!”

Dennilon blinked, a smile flickering on his face. He shrugged and cricked his neck. “That’s wonderful, thank you.”

“Smile then. Not so grumpy.”

“There is nothing wrong with a little formality, Ms. Vella. Are these… humans… with you?”

“Yes. We hunt monsters. I got a proposal for the guild. Good proposal. Be stupid to turn down.” She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. “Bringing two fairies in too.”

Dennilon stepped aside. “The room to the left, please. It’s members-only elsewhere.”

“Are the fairies your idea?” Thadius asked Josh.

“Nope.”

“Mine,” said Vella. “Trust me, they’ll be scared. Elves hate fairies.”

Lyra and Dinsy squeezed through the door just before Dennilon closed it, banking left and into the meeting room. It reminded Josh of a library and had an overbearingly quiet feel. A low round table occupied its center with six chairs around it. A large mantel took up one wall, the fire under it making the room stiflingly hot. Josh sat, Dinsy and Lyra perching on the chair’s arms, each pecking him on the cheek.

“Hello, Josh,” said Dinsy. “Did you have fun this morning?”

“Shush,” said Lyra. “There’s no need to tell him we can hear everything.”

“Ermm, you just told me,” Josh said, but for some reason, he didn’t squirm as much as he might have once. If they’d heard him having playtime with Elowen and Arabella, well, he didn’t care. He defied anyone not to in his position.

“Working your way up to a few fairies at once, eh?” Dinsy nudged him as Thadius cleared his throat.

“Someone’s coming.”

“Probably Josh again.” Dinsy burst out laughing, and Lyra joined in.

If Dennilon was put out by the appearance of two humans on his doorsteps, he was positively shaking at the sight of giggling fairies. Still, he managed to tame his angst, regain his manners, and pompously asked, “Would you be requiring some nettle tea and perhaps a round of nutcake?”

“No, I think we’ll wait for Thornton,” said Vella. “He’ll order the good stuff.”

As if on cue, Dennilon stepped aside, and Thornton Gray breezed in. “Vella and, oh…”

“Yes, sir, humans and fairies,” said Dennilon.

“Indeed.” He inhaled sharply. “Yes, well, we can’t hold grudges forever, and if the wonderful Vella vouches for you, then who am I to have you rounded up and hung, eh?” He chuckled at his joke and sat. Thornton was an older elf with wrinkles wrinkling wrinkles and hair as white as snow. He wore a monocle, its chain looping to his jacket’s green velvet collar. He dressed smartly and was obviously wealthy, although he walked with a stoop that betrayed the back alluded to earlier.

“So, did he offer you the nettle tea?” Thornton waved Dennilon away. “Get the good stuff.” The he turned to Vella. “Could you?”

“Heal,” she said.

Thornton stretched; his hand planted on his lower back. “Oh, that’s so good.”

“Heal,” she repeated.

Thornton grinned. “I could—Well, it doesn’t matter what I could do. Are you staying long, dear?”

“Depends,” she said.

“On what?”

“Whether you pay up.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

THE VAST AND frightening Hangsane Mountains rose with dignified beauty from their rugged foothills like overbearing parents about to lay waste to any that might threaten their children. While Josh had been close several times, he'd always been too distracted to appreciate the towering behemoths. The first time, a boar had kept him busy by trying to crush him. The second time was a rerun of the first, but far worse, and the third time he’d slaughtered the harpies.

This time, he walked toward the Hangsane, the valley he trudged along affording him a great view of them. They were brutal in their inception, a multi-faceted mix of gray shades that rebuffed all inquiries. Josh had seen mountains before. He’d seen the Hangsane from afar. Close up, they were crushing him with his insignificance. If Ravenheart lurked in them—if he was King of such a place, then Josh didn’t stand any hope.

Fortunately, Ravenheart wasn’t the next target. Instead, it was a mob of trolls, and they occupied a valley some distance away.

Trolls were no pushovers. They were one of the tallest monsters, and while sentient, they were undoubtedly devoid of remorse. Their favored weapon was a club, and their attack of choice was the complex beat-the-fuck-out-of-them strategy that had graced many a barfight in all galaxies. The sight of a human was usually enough to send them to rage, and when enraged, reason vanished. Trolls were a formidable opponent.

But, in the face of the daunting Hangsane, the trolls appeared small fodder to Josh. He dared not think what horrors might dwell among those kings of mountains. “Do you think Ravenheart is up there somewhere? I do hope he is. I’d be mightily unimpressed if he lived in a burrow.” Josh threw his question out there but received no reply. He was the only one with breath to spare.

They’d left the trail behind them earlier that morning, cutting into the foothills, encountering steep rises, narrow ravines and treacherous ridges. They could, of course, have taken a more leisurely route, but that would have added days to their trek. Not that they were short on time. But certain errors had been made. However, they were a new fighting force with new methods, and mistakes were to be expected. They were a party learning some important facts about each other—their strengths and weaknesses. It was vital for them to grow. Unfortunately, one member wondered whether they’d last long enough to see the day out, let alone the party blossom.

Thadius stopped, leaning heavily on his walking cane. “Those fucking fairies will be the death of me.”

It was rare to hear the fairies swear, but Josh couldn’t recall Thadius ever cursing—not when they’d rescued him from the cultists, nor during the battle for the colossus, but on this little trip, the curses fell from his lips like rain from a thundercloud.

“Sure was a mistake asking them to plan the route,” Elowen agreed.

“Fun,” said Vella, but fortunately for the elf, none of the others were in any shape to kick her head in.

The issue centered around one thing: fairies could fly. What they saw as a quick journey over simple terrain varied greatly from what Thadius or any of the others, barring Vella, saw as easy. To the fairies, difficult terrain might include somewhere where mist might gather or a place with abundant spiderwebs. It might be somewhere infested with particular predators like bats or eagles or the legendary four-toed fairy snapper that often lurked near tranquil pools and beautiful waterfalls. It did not include stamina-sapping climbs, boggy paths, or rockslides.

“Could I have another—” Thadius paused. “Do I have to call it that? I sound like a yam-yam powder addict.”

“Yes.”

Thadius sighed. “Can I have another fix, please, Vella?”

“Yes. Renew!” Vella scampered off, climbing a rockfall and standing on a bluff beside Josh. “Beautiful,” she said, stretching her arms and thrusting her ample breasts out.

“Stunning,” said Josh, but he didn’t specify quite what was stunning.

He’d seen some wonderful things since coming to Mythelore. There was a majesty to the place enhanced by the knowledge that danger lurked within its beauty. The foothills were no exception, and had they been anywhere other than lining the Hangsane like timid children, some might have regarded them as mountainous in their own right. Vella’s breasts had a stunning majesty as well.

Josh turned away from the sharpened valley and gazed up a blunted slope at the looming shadows above. “Have you ever climbed further? Have you ever passed into the Hangsane?”

“Once, not again. Once is enough,” Vella said.

“What’s it like?”

“A thing. It’s like a thing.”

“A thing?” he asked, not expecting her answer and momentarily confused whether she’d understood him.

“Alive,” she said. “It’s like it’s alive. It’s not what you think.”

He sat upon a rock while he waited for the others, pulling Vella to him and letting her sit on his leg. “And what do I think it’s like?”

“You think it’s ragged, cold, dark, damp. You think it’s full of shadows and has no life. You think it has dark monsters like wraiths and ghouls. Not like that—not like that at all.”

“So, what’s it like then?” She’d surprised him by guessing his thoughts exactly.

“Different. The people are different. The monsters are different. They live differently.”

“People?”

“It’s full of people. Different people.”

“How so?”

“How so?”

“How are they different?”

“Much stronger. The deeper you go, the stronger the people and the bigger the monsters.” She shrugged. “Perhaps we are the Hangsane too—just the weakest. We’re on the edge. Those in the middle—they are strong.”

He mulled her words. “So, you’re saying that the farther we go into the Hansane, the more powerful the people get?"

"Stronger, faster, better and better," she said. “I didn’t go far, though, so don’t know. It’s what I think.”

Her words ignited a fire within him. He was already wondering how strong he could get in Mythelore before he ran out of creatures that would test him. For instance, he’d had no fear of the boggart, but circumstance had prevented him from destroying the creature. Had he attacked all the spiders, there was no doubt in his mind Vella, Lyra and Dinsy would have been slaughtered.

When he thought of the progression the ring gave him, his powers had no limit, provided he could find a gradual increase in worthy adversaries. If he fought a bear with his new levels, the fight would be over in moments. Such was his new power. It was inconceivable to him that he would stop. “Ravenheart is driving the weak ones out,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Is it—” He struggled to use the word because it didn’t, or hadn’t, fitted before. “Is it beautiful?”

“Yes.”

They camped in a glade, a stream nearby. A horseshoe of rock created a natural windbreak, shielding their fire from prying eyes. Vella cooked, Arabella having caught a brace of hares while Elowen gathered edible mushrooms, nuts and tubers. Cassandra pinned a couple of light orbs to the rock, spinning her staff like a wand, lengthening and shortening it at will.

“You’re getting more powerful by the day,” Josh said.

She glanced at him. “You think?”

“I can see.”

“I’ve begun looking at it a little differently. I’m more inclined to think I’m as powerful as I always was, but I’m unlocking more of it now that I can control it.”

“Just as long as you can control that temper of yours,” Thadius said. “Don’t want you grouching about something and blowing up our new guild house.”

“My temper’s fucking fine, Old Man, and don’t you forget it!” She froze, then smiled at Josh. “See, I didn’t turn him to a turd.”

“Toad, you turn people into toads,” Thadius said.

“Not you. I’d turn you into a walking, talking, stinking turd.”

“Charming,” Thadius said. “I believe it was my idea to bring you into this group. Perhaps I should have left you on that bluff to while your days away in ignorance of your true potential.”

She winked at Josh. “Sorry, Thadius, what did you say? I drifted off.”

“You’re insufferable, but you know that, don’t you?” Thadius shut his eyes and made a point of exhaling long and hard.

“Josh loves me.” She pouted. “Don’t you?”

“More than anything. Well,” he said when Arabella and Elowen darted him a glance. “Equal, at least.” He grinned, still not believing his luck that all four beauties around the fire were his. “Changing the subject. How is the magic going?”

“Strong,” she said. “Hydromancy and aeromancy”—she shrugged— “not really tried those yet. Naturalism and geomancy are my strong points. Pyromancy—difficult to explain—I’m stymied.”

“Try me. Let’s see if I can help,” Josh said.

“It’s like this.” She conjured a small flame. “This is easy. I can relate to this because I know what it is. Same goes for a torch and a campfire. Both burn wood. Both consume to produce the fire. A fireball, however, doesn’t add up in my head. Because of that, I have difficulty imagining it.” She tapped her staff to her lips. “Take geomancy. I can imagine opening a yawning chasm in the ground because there are so many examples—think small cracks in dried mud to gorges. How do fireballs perpetuate their energy?"

A bad feeling gathered in Josh's gut. “So, you’ve got no fireballs? We need fireballs for the trolls.”

“I have them by default,” she explained. “I can produce them, but they’re not powerful enough and tend to fizzle out. Me and Elowen tried a few cheats. She’d hold a torch, and I’d steal the fire from it. That worked because it saved me having to think about what created the fire.”

Thadius sat up. “So, your sticking point is that it has to be feasible? With a thing like magic, you’re looking for a tangible reason for it to exist?”

She snapped her fingers. “Exactly, Old Man. See, you can be useful and not just a grumpy sourpuss.”

“Then ditch the fireballs.”

“Wait!” Josh said. “We need the fireballs! We needed to know we didn’t have them, too. We should have delayed. Elowen, can we beat the trolls without fireballs?”

“Haven’t got a plan that works without them. But she’ll produce them when she’s under pressure.”

“I have got them. They’re just not as good as I’d have liked,” Cassandra explained.

“Thunder,” Thadius said and captured everyone’s attention. “Thunder and lightning—think thunder and lightning. It comes from clouds arguing—you understand arguing only too well. Think of the anger that gathers inside you when something upsets you. Pretend you’re a cloud and send your lightning forth!” He clapped. “Yes, that’s it!”

“So, let me get this straight. You’ve spent every moment since we found out I might be a harmonic telling me to contain my anger, and now you’re telling me to get angry and spout lightning from my fingers.”

“Well, yes, it seems odd.”

“It’s not about clouds getting angry,” Josh said. “It’s this.” He clapped his hands. “It’s when they collide. Perhaps a little more complicated than that but imagine this. Clap your hands together really hard. Feel the pain, the warmth?”

Cassandra clapped her hands. “Yes. I get it. There’s a bit of warmth.”

“Now rub your hands together real fast.”

“They’ll get warm,” Cassandra said.

“And if you rub two sticks together fast enough, they catch fire. So, you can create fire. It’s tangible. Lightning can come from clapping your hands together—that works for you as well because it’s tangible. So, to make lightning, you have to imagine the immense power generated by clapping your hands together, channel your mana into it, and send a lightning blast on its way.”

“That is brilliant,” Thadius said.

“I need to try it,” Cassandra said. “I need to try it now.”

“Perhaps away from the camp?” Thadius suggested.

“You have a while until the stew’s ready,” Arabella said.

“Little while,” Vella added.

Cassandra jumped up, pulling Josh to his feet. “With me. You’re my new teacher.”

“Don’t be too long!” Arabella shouted.

The witch beckoned one of the light orbs to follow them. They walked to the stream, finding an even patch of rock to sit on.

“Come on then, teacher, you’re up. What’s first?”

“Let me think.” Now he was on the spot, his idea seemed a bit daft. “Let’s start small.” He took a pinch of kindling from his belt and set it in the rock between them. “Let’s assume we don’t want to go straight to forked lightning splitting trees in half. First, rub your hands together, then one sharp clap and imagine a spark coming out and igniting the kindling.”

She nodded, “Right, I got this.”

She rubbed, clapped—nothing—took a breath, repeated, but nothing happened again.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Keep going. I’m with you. We’ll get there.”

She bit her lip and tried again, and again, and again.

“I saw something!” Josh said, sitting upright. “I saw something—definitely. There was bright white light between your hands—just briefly. It was there!”

Cassandra glanced at him. “You think? We’ve been at this for a while.”

“What did you do differently?”

“I got a bit frustrated. I felt like punching the rock. Do I need to get angry?”

Josh thought about it. “No. Angry is the manifestation of frustration. It’s a rush of energy to the surface. I’ll bet you shoved some mana into your hands rather than let it dribble in. Yes, that’s it! Imagine spitting your mana into the spell rather than infusing the spell. Just punch a bit in. Get it?”

Cassandra didn’t answer. She rubbed her hands together and clapped, jerking forward slightly. A bolt of white light shot from her hands, blasting the kindling to smithereens, splitting the rock, and launching her backward. Josh scrambled to the rock’s edge to see her on her back, legs in the air and hat askew.

He jumped down, ready to pull her up, but she pulled him down instead. “We did it,” she said, then kissed him passionately. “We did it.” She rolled him around, pinning him to the ground. “Fuck me, now.”

Passion swamped Josh as Cassandra ground her groin into him. “We should carry on,” he said as she pulled away and yanked his pants down. “Ah, fuck it.” He stood, spun her around and bent her over the rock, ripping her pants down, exposing her milky butt to the moonlight.

“I’ll carry on,” she said, rubbing her hands together.

He jammed his cock into her as she clapped. Lighting streaked from her hand, smashing into a boulder across the stream. Shrapnel strafed them, but Josh was past caring.

“That’s it. Just like that,” he said, pounding her, grabbing her ass. She rubbed her hands together. He slapped her ass as she clapped her hands.

A huge lightning bolt streaked from her, striking a tree and splitting it in two.

“Fuck me!” she said.

“Already on it,” he replied, picking up the tempo. “Again,” he said.

“This one’s going up,” she said.

“So’s this one,” he said.

“I’ve got it,” Cassandra said.

“I’m cumming!” Josh cried.

“Yea ha!” Cassandra cried as lightning forked up into the sky.

“I’m not overly sure that method is going to be practical on a battlefield,” Arabella observed.

Chapter Twenty-Three

THE LAST TIME Josh had been alone, he'd killed Bruce. The bear had crashed from the undergrowth, launching a furious assault on him. That time, and many times since, the ring's perception had saved him.

Josh had no clue how it worked, but he settled on the idea it tapped into his sixth sense. As he had no particular clue what his sixth sense was, it wasn't a satisfactory answer, academically speaking. But having accepted that he'd landed in a strange land where magic was a thing, or even more incredible, he could keep four stunning girls satisfied, he let the ring's mechanics slide. Some things in Mythelore were beyond understanding.

His vision was clear. No red stained it, which would have indicated a likely physical assault. If mauve glossed over the rocky scene before him, a magical attack would probably come his way. Blue warned him of poisons, but as he'd upped his poison resistance, that was a rare occurrence.

He looked along the ridge above him, lit by the moon, silver coating its cracked rock. It hid the troll valley, and without his sphere of perception, he'd have never known if a troll lurked over its sharp top, lying in wait, ready to attack.

He found it strange that he had to follow his path on the blind trust of a band on his finger. Yet the ring's power was undeniable. It could boost his speed, agility, durability, strength, and combat instinct. But, even with all these benefits, he had no map. Nor had he seen one since coming to the land. Everyone appeared to know where everything was; if they didn't, they knew someone who did. Like the fairies had known where a bang-bang tree was, or Vella had known where the Stoneheart Guild resided.

Had he not already been destined to become a monster hunter, he might have considered mapmaker a good choice—perhaps a side hustle.

It was approaching midnight, and he'd been alone since dusk. His sole task for the night was to get to the troll camp. Once there, he'd hunker down and prepare for the day's infiltration. While the trolls slept, he would daub the bang-bang paste around, then mark each area with glowroot.

Vella had lent him her knapsack, putting the two jars and a spoon in it, along with his clothes and boots. On the surface, the mission was relatively straightforward if he discounted the trolls, of course. Infiltrate the camp and set all the explosives in place, marking them with the glowroot.

His path twisted and turned, winding around boulders and slipping through narrow cuts. Before him, the Hangsane thrust upward, their judgment overbearing. And judgement it was. He was drawn to them since Vella had told him about them and how the people became more powerful as the mountains grew. It was like a frowning force looked down on him and reminded him of the beginner's areas in the games he'd played during his old life—sooner or later, you were too overpowered to play there any longer.

Yet, he had thought he'd spend his time fighting monsters in Mythelore. He'd imagined he would be overpowered and eventually dominate and dispatch the monsters with ease. But the knowledge that more challenges lay in the Hangsane tempted him, and the chance for progression was too much to turn down.

He had no doubt he'd plateau in Mythelore unless its threats grew. He needed greater challenges to progress, as he’d barely scratched the system’s potential. He was still only the third rank in the lowest tier—Novice Enforcer—and could scarcely imagine how powerful he might get if tested to his limits. What would Savage Warden look like? As an Apex Paragon, would he be invincible? Then, and he fully understood its title, he would become Eternal Conqueror. Surely, he’d then be the strongest in the land.

He scurried along, his stealth mode making him nearly impossible to see. However, he had identified a minor issue: his bag, belt and sword. There was no way he would leave his clothes behind, so he’d stuffed them all in Vella’s knapsack, but that meant whoever watched the ridge might see a bag floating along. He decided he had to have a bag, belt and sheath made in black and another in camouflage. The ring could only do so much. He needed to give it a hand.

Dawn broke by the time he’d reached the rise in the ridge. He veered toward the troll camp, scampering across to complete his journey and finding a cluster of boulders surrounded by heather and bushes and overlooking the valley’s head. It was as good as he had hoped, with a clear line to the troll camp, which was becoming slowly visible.

Stowing his sack, he scampered closer, squeezing his eyes to peer through the lightening gloom. Four trolls sat around a fire, warming their hands. A couple of feet away, three troll children crouched in a circle playing some game or the other. Two women were skinning a deer, while a third stood over a second fire upon which a huge pot bubbled and boiled. A male sharpened some weapons over a stove made from stacked rock that he guessed was some form of primitive furnace.

The camp reminded him of a Stone Age settlement. He wasn’t prepared for the trolls to be civilized and had expected monsters rooting around, grunting, waiting for the next poor and unsuspecting human female to stumble along. At that point, they would grab her, beat her senseless and tear her limb from limb, gobbling her down without bothering to cook her. What he saw was a small tribal unit.

He watched, intrigued, as all eyes turned not to him, but in his direction. A vast troll emerged from below him. Josh couldn’t see where the troll had come from but assumed it was a cave. The beast was naked, male and had ragged, dirty-blue hair, gray skin, and the largest, semi-erect cock Josh had ever seen. He marched over to the pot, standing, legs apart, as he stretched, yawned, and then held his hand out. The female troll pulled some poor creature's leg from the pot and handed it to him. The beast immediately chomped down on it, marching away as grease and fat dripped down his chest.

Josh was in no doubt that this was the chief, a suspicion that gained more credence when two naked troll women scampered from the same hidden place and waited, demanding more meat from the cook. He concluded that there was a strict hierarchy in the tribe, and therefore, their first target should be the leader. Put him down, and the rest might hesitate long enough for them to wipe them out without much effort. After the business with the boggart, Josh wasn’t about to give any monsters leeway just because it was the chivalrous thing to do.

“You are first, my friend,” he muttered.

Having a decent idea of what he was up against, Josh retreated, easing himself back into the rock while rummaging in his bag for his water bottle. He decided not to eat in case the trolls got a whiff of his sandwich. If Elowen’s report was accurate, trolls had an acute sense of smell. Although the wind was rushing up the valley, so in theory… No! he decided. He wasn’t going to risk it.

He scanned the valley, its great legs hemming in forested patches and grasslands, giving it a mottled look. A river split it into two halves, presumably fed by a nearby spring. It was a pleasant, peaceful valley, and as Josh wondered why the elves wanted to get rid of the trolls, he spied the hut, the tunnel entrances, and the abandoned carts. Once seen, the road along the valley became apparent, and the elves’ motives became clear. It was all about money—what else?

Not that he could talk. He’d sat and watched as Vella had rinsed the Stoneheart Guild for all they were worth. She’d doubled the eight silver to sixteen and increased the point they’d wanted for their services to two. Then she’d added healing tariffs if any of the miners became sick. All because Thornton was besotted with her and her ways. They’d also talked about setting up a fairy messenger service, but Thadius had stopped that, telling them all that once the first matters ran smoothly, others could be visited.

Vella’s ruthless business acumen had taken all of them by surprise. She played the simple, loveable, but certainly dim elven healer well. But the more Josh got to know her, the more he could see there was much more to her than that. Since she’d entered his harem, she’d dropped some of her original persona, becoming Team Josh with a vengeance. It was why, he concluded, that she’d pressed the Stoneheart Guild so hard. It was them against Josh in her eyes, and elf or no elf, they were the opposition. That fierce loyalty ran through the others, too, and he wondered whether it was a consequence of the land’s harem structure.

Something certainly altered. None of his harem of four displayed any jealousy if he turned his attention to another member. When Arabella had caught him hanging out the back of Cassandra while the witch sent lightning bolts into the sky, she’d not been miffed in any way, shape, or form. They’d laughed about it—they all had, including her father. Which still weirded him out, but he guessed it always would. In his old world, a father-in-law wasn’t oblivious to what happened between daughter and husband, but he didn’t usually actively encourage that husband to build and expand a harem. He brewed his own beer and told terrible jokes. Josh sighed. It was a different land with different values. But he couldn’t help but think Mythelore was better.

All that daydreaming whiled away the breaking dawn. He crawled forward, coming to the edge of the rock and peering over. Sure enough, as Lyra and Dinsy had said they’d be, some male ogres slept by the fire while the others had all vanished, presumably into their caves. He couldn’t see a lookout, so he guessed they assumed the valley was safe.

“Well,” he muttered. “You got that wrong.”

The others would be moving into position, ready to attack. It was up to him to do his thing. He retrieved the pot of bang-bang paste and the glowroot, then skirted the slope until he could see the entire troll camp. Like the valley’s head, a horseshoe formed its back, with three caves puncturing the gray rock. The camp sat within the horseshoe and upon a rock platform. Two paths led up to the platform, one on each side, with scrub in between. The scrub area also served as a refuse dump with bones and detritus littering it. He ventured down, keeping the pots as close to the ground as possible.

Pausing at the bottom of the path, he listened for signs of movement but could only hear snoring, the odd grunt, and an occasional fart. He crept up the path, crouching as he reached its top and looking over. He tried to imagine how the next day’s battle would pan out. It wasn’t a wild assumption that the chieftain lived in the largest, central cave. As soon as Cassandra’s magic announced the start of the battle, he’d come rushing out. But Josh couldn’t very well dump the bang-bang paste on the ground as Arabella wouldn’t be able to see it from her lowly vantage point.

Josh tried to understand what she would be able to see, realizing it was a flaw in their plan. The very top of the path was one place that would be visible, then above the three cave entrances. He elected to focus on those five places, hoping that Arabella could trigger the three above the caves first, then the two paths as the trolls fled. For the first time in his life, he truly appreciated why an army might favor the higher land.

He crept up the first pathway, aware the wind wasn’t in his favor anymore. Reaching the top, he peeked over. A troll slept a few yards away. This close, he looked huge—huge and vulnerable. It would take moments to dart over there, draw his knife and slit the monster’s throat, quickly eliminating one problem.

Stick to the plan!

He set the pots down. First, he spooned some of the bang-bang paste into his hand, molding it into a ball and then gently pressing it onto a rock by the path. He lined it up with the place Arabella had picked as her position. Deciding it was fine, he painted the glowroot paste around it, making a target for her.

Crouching, he waited. All was silent. Taking a chance, he crept onto the rock platform and across to the other path. All three sleeping trolls were vulnerable, but it only took one to wake, and the plan would be thwarted. He set the pots down. Lined up a target, then repeated the process.

Once done, he turned his attention to the caves. The first had a pair of feet sticking out, with another close, then a smaller pair in the middle. He held his breath. The stench coming from the cave was terrible. Lining up walls with Arabella’s spot, he set his pots down, rolled a bang-bang ball and squashed it into the wall as high as he could. He painted the glowroot around it and stepped back.

“What? Ummgh! Smell somethings! ‘Umans?”

Josh froze. The troll chief looked out of the middle cave. His matted hair concealed his face, just his giant fangs curling out. Josh pressed himself into the rock, holding the two pots out of sight.

“No ‘umans here.” A slightly less grouch voice came from inside the cave. “Comes backs to bed.”

“ ’Umans!” the chief said. “By elf mine—bet by mine. We smash heads laters. Hearty eat-eat. ‘umans tasty.”

The chief lingered, then withdrew his head like a tortoise going into its shell. Josh didn’t dare move. He waited.

“Kill ‘umans,” the troll said, then began snoring.

Josh made an extra-large paste ball, sticking it as close to the troll’s head level as possible, then painting the glowroot around. He closed his eyes briefly, gathered his courage, darted across the cave entrance, and set the final ball in place.

Once done, he tiptoed to the path, dumped the pots with all the other rubbish, and climbed back up the hill, retrieving Vella’s knapsack and belt. He retreated up the hill, waiting for dusk and Elowen’s sign.

Chapter Twenty-Four

THE SUN SET. Never before had Josh both dreaded and looked forward to dusk as then. An enraged troll would be a fearsome enemy. Their power, when combined with their speed, was nothing shy of formidable. It was something to fear, but nothing was as fearful as waiting and being apart from his family.

“The sign. Make the sign,” he urged, his knuckles white, fists tight.

Nothing could start until Arabella could see the glowroot targets. None of them knew the paste’s tipping point—when its glow would shine in the dark. They had to be swift, too, else the trolls would see the glowroot and know something was up. It was too finely balanced for Josh’s liking. One slip-up and the trolls would be on the girls, ripping them limb from limb.

He edged forward, coming to the ledge, squinting and trying to make out the glowroot daubed on the paths. He glanced to the spot he thought Arabella and the others were, then back to the path. It was still too light—too early, but if the trolls stirred, they might spot it all.

“Come on!”

“Smell ‘umans!” the chief growled from his cave. “I smell ‘umans!”

Josh’s heart stopped. His palms beaded with sweat. He heard a stomp, a bang and glanced at the path in desperate hope. There was a glow—a noticeable glow.

“Come on, girls!” he urged. “The sign. Give me the sign!” He wanted to get down there—to test his strength and speed against the trolls. It would be a great measure of how far he’d come.

“Up! Up!” the chief growled. He banged his club against the cave wall, stomping out and roaring.

Then Josh saw it—a flicker—emerald and blue with a slight pink tinge. They’d named it the fairy sign. All three colors meant it was a go. It was green for a delay, blue and pink for a no-go. He drew his sword, readying. All three colors. It was go, go, go!

“Kill ‘umans!” the chief screamed.

A flame flared in the valley’s middle, raised slightly, then arcing into the sky. It flew straight toward Josh. He scrambled backward, momentarily panicking.

“Shooting!” screamed a troll. “Shooting stuff!”

Josh fell on his ass. He looked in horror as Arabella’s arrow hurtled toward him, hanging in time. He’d positioned himself wrongly—should have stayed by the path up or positioned himself between the trolls and the girls. Instead, he was the target.

Then it dipped, and he let out his breath. The arrow struck the cave, exploding simultaneously. Debris, rocks, shards, and bits of troll strafed Josh as the force of the blast sent him rolling up the hill. Just as he settled, another explosion ripped into him. He flew a dozen yards, slamming into a boulder. A third explosion sent him back the way he’d come rolling, his body flung by the explosion’s force. The fourth and fifth showered him in scree, his ears ringing, his vision pulsing white and black.

And then the lightning began, great forks shooting at him but falling mercifully short, cracking into the caves, tearing the rock platform, great rock slabs upended, the hillside slipping down. More lightning cracked across the valley, leveling everything it touched.

Then, all quieted, and an eerie still fell across the place as the dust settled. For a moment, Josh sat there completely dumbfounded. He knew precisely what had happened but, at the same time, was at an utter loss exactly what they’d unleashed—the magnitude of their firepower. He crawled forward on his hands and knees, his body broken but mending rapidly. Dust coated him, his mouth dry.

He came to the remains of his ledge—a cracked and tumbled slope. There, a scene of utter devastation greeted him. There was not a flat surface left. It was like a giant fist had punched upward and destroyed the camp, but there were still signs of the trolls. A flaming piece of cloth, a blazing firepit, a head staring lifelessly out, wondering where its body had gone. An arm lay right by him, sinews hanging out, flesh still oozing gray blood.

Nothing was whole. Not a single damn thing.

Josh pushed himself to his feet, his legs shaky, knees weak. “What the hell,” he said, still unable to process the extent of the destruction. Yes, he could accept they might have underestimated the power of the bang-bang paste, but there was no way they’d even comprehended the power of Cassandra’s lightning. It was the single most scary-assed thing he’d ever witnessed in his entire life. Even then, standing at the apex of the destruction, his vision still pulsing with white, he recalled the sight of it forking towards him.

“Never again,” he muttered to himself. “I’m never going to be close to where she’s aiming. “

A cry sounded in the rubble. It was deep, guttural, filled with whimpering rage. Devoid of emotion, Josh climbed down the crumbling slope, coming to what remained of the troll camp. He headed for the source, seeing a troll but without knowing if it was the leader or one of the others. It was reduced to a luckless survivor, pathetic in every way.

“You, ‘uman,” it said. “You, monster.”

Josh raised his sword, reversing his grip and plunging it down, forcing its tip into the beast’s mouth, through its head, only stopping when it met rock. “No,” he said softly. “There is no confusion. You are the monster. You wanted to rip us limb from limb. You came to our lands.”

He pulled the sword out. Then began the grim task of collecting the troll heads.

There were no gray lines. He was the monster hunter. They were the monsters. Yes, they had used overwhelming force, but no, none of them had been injured.

He’d settle for a dishonorable victory if it meant they all lived.

There was an odd silence about them all as they rode the final few miles to the town of Elarathon where they had received their quest. It had been that way since they’d left the troll valley. Not one of them had come to terms with the power they’d displayed—the utter ruthlessness of their plan’s execution. Thadius pulled their wagon up, sitting on the bench silently for a moment before finally speaking.

“No one must know how powerful this new way is.”

“You mean how powerful Cassandra is?” Elowen said.

“I know what I mean, Elowen. I have seen powerful wizards fall. I have watched sorceresses speared by talons, bleeding from their mouths as their mana leaks from them. I watched your father die, my dear, and he was the greatest warrior I ever had the pleasure of knowing. It doesn’t make me proud to know I survived where many fell. Nor do I count myself fortunate. My memories are burdens the dead escaped.”

“Then what do you mean, father?” Arabella asked.

He grunted. “Do you know, I’m not sure. It worries me how we fought a battle, yet no battle was fought. Does that make any sense?”

“It is guilt,” Josh said. “When all the suffering is on one side, there is no joy in victory. But, at the same time, there’s none of the lingering sadness that accompanies loss.”

Thadius looked along the road. “Perhaps I’m a romantic? Maybe I liked pulling victory from the jaws of despair.”

Josh scoffed. “You get it wrong, Old Man. I am awed by Cassandra’s power. I’m thankful for Arabella’s precision with the bow. But I’ll not be melancholy because we avoided injury. We hunt monsters, and we kill them. We shouldn’t do it for the glory of battle. We should do it to keep our employers safe. That is what we get paid for.”

Thadius sat in silence. He smacked his lips together. “You’re right, of course. I must discard the romance of it all. That only gets us killed.”

“That’s it! We need to change the Hero’s Song and what the bards sing. No more of the almost dying to slay a monster single-handedly,” Josh said, standing. “We should boast of Cassandra’s ability to blast a troll camp from three hundred yards. We should paint Arabella a hero for killing them with five arrows. We should tell all how Lyra and Dinsy infiltrated their camp and detailed their exact whereabouts and how Elowen planned the operation with meticulous detail. We should regale all with tales of Josh, the reincarnated human who crept through their camp planting the explosives—who was so close to the trolls he could smell their breath. This is what we should say! Do you want to know why?”

“Because you are all heroes?”

“Because that’s what we did. We did our work before the slaughter, not during it. It’s the new way where heroes don’t end up in graves or the stomachs of the beasts they aimed to kill.” He climbed from the back of the wagon into the front. “Anyway, what’s all this you are all heroes. You did your bit.”

“I did nothing.”

“You did everything. You were part of the conversation that found Cassandra’s power. I’ll bet you steadied Aarabella’s nerves as she took the shot, and I’ll wager you told Dinsy and Lyra when to signal. As I said to Elowen, we’re a team, and some jobs will suit some, and some will suit others.”

He turned, his eyes sunken, and his look one who knew his time monster-hunting was ending. “The only question is, which way do I prefer?”

“You should look back and enjoy your memories, Thadius. Then make sure you look forward. There is no other way.”

“I wish I had your enthusiasm. I don’t know where you get it from.”

Josh laughed. “Are you kidding? Have you seen the four beauties in the back? I doubt I’ll ever stop smiling.”

“Hey, what about us?” Lyra and Dinsy said.

“Six!” Josh said. “The six beauties in the back!”

Arabella threw her arms around Thadius. “And don’t forget, Dad, one day you’ll have to stay behind and watch the adventurers’ lodge while looking after your grandchildren.”

Josh had a double take. “Grandchildren?”

“Of course. Not yet, but you don’t get to bang four lovely girls forever without that happening, do you?”

A warm feeling spread through him. “Children.” As he pictured it, he found he was peculiarly excited about it. “I’d make a good dad. Wouldn’t I?”

“I truly believe you would, Josh. I truly believe you would,” Thadius said, patted his knee and eased the cart forward.

They drove into the settlement, elves trailing their cart and chattering fervently. Simmalion met them, her expression frosty at first, then relaxed as she saw Vella in the back. The elf jumped from the cart, pulling the stoic ex-sorceress into a hug and breaking any tension.

“We hear reports that you formed a guild in Endover.” She addressed Thadius, but he waved her away.

“Things have changed, Simmalion. Josh is in full charge, and I am just an advisor.”

She straightened an eyebrow. “You are hardly just anything, Thadius Extrael.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I was recently informed I might be looking after a brood of babies soon. There’s nothing like that revelation to show you that the years have passed, and the challenges are behind me.”

Her expression melted, becoming caring, softening to pleasant interest. “You might find those challenges are equally complex to any you’ve encountered. Did you, perhaps, manage to complete one last mission?”

“We did,” said Josh, but Simmalion’s gaze lingered on Thadius, and she ignored Josh’s answer, addressing Thadius again.

“We should talk about this new life you have planned. It is a path easier traveled by two rather than one, Thadius Extrael.”

Thadius blushed, stumbling over his following words until they finally spilled. “We have business to complete first,” he said.

“We do,” she said. “But I’ll not let you off my hook that easily. We shall talk more later. I’m too old to keep dancing around a possibility.” She smoothed her robe down. “Josh of the Underwood, did you complete your mission?”

“We did. May I present Cassandra, sorceress and troll scourge?”

A small crowd had gathered, some standing on tiptoes trying to look in the cart’s back. Cassandra stood, raising the Everdeep staff and shooing them all back. Instead of being scared, they all began clapping.

“Quiet!” she shouted. “First, we killed the boars. Sadly, we only managed to retrieve one head, but Vella bore witness if you doubt the word of a human.” She picked up the boar’s head and tossed it onto the mud.

“One head is enough,” said Simmalion.

“And then we slaughtered the harpies. I’d like to introduce you all to Elowen, master tactician and the orchestrator of many a monster’s demise.”

Elowen stood and bowed to rapturous cheers. “After the boars, we fought the harpy nest, killing them all and releasing the fairies from their enslavement in the process.” She emptied the harpy heads over the boar’s head.

“Are we sure the fairies were enslaved?”

“We were,” said Lyra, flying up from the cart’s back and settling on Thadius’ shoulder.

“We have joined the Misfits,” said Dinsy, settling on Thadius’ other shoulder. “We are monster hunters.”

“Next!” Josh’s voice thundered out. “I would introduce you to Arabella, second to none with the bow. A dead eye that blew the trolls apart! A founding member of the Misfits!”

“Who,” Arabella said, “were instrumental in hunting and killing the trolls that camped near one of your mines.”

She held up the troll chief’s head. The crowd gasped and stepped back. Cassandra bent and tossed the other six heads they collected from the wagon. Arabella threw the last onto the pile and jumped out of the wagon. “We should celebrate with ale,” she said to more cheers.

Simmilion stared down at the heads. “No losses on your side?”

“None,” Josh said. “But much of that good fortune flowed through you, Simmalion. Had you not tutored Cassandra and given her the staff, that figure might be more than one. We have you to thank as much as you have us to thank for killing the beasts. So, I thank you, but I could do with ale, a bath, and a bed if it isn’t too much to ask.”

“The first two I can allow. The last one will have to wait. I take it from the soft-eyed looks my Vella gives you that she has joined you, too.”

“She has.”

“Then, a celebration is in order. You may wash, then meet me in the feasting hall. There will be a celebration and then a union. I’ll not have her leave us without a blessing. We can present you with our payment and our proposal then. Does Thadius still speak for all of you?”

“Any of us speak for the group, but all things are discussed after, and a choice is made.”

“Fine. You will come with me, Thadius, if it pleases you. I must discuss something with you.”

“Despite what he says, if it is a guild matter, it is Josh you need to speak to.”

She stared at him, the hint of a smile on her lips. “For one so astute, your brain can be quite blunt. It has nothing and everything to do with your guild.”

“For one so versed in the common language, Simmalion, you make no sense, sometimes.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

JOSH RELAXED, letting the water flow over him. He'd have liked to have thought it was easing his aching bones and massaging his tired muscles, but the truth of it was that his bones didn't ache, and he wasn't in the slightest bit tired.

It was one of the downsides of Vella's power. The minute she renewed him, his body showed no sign of exertion. By downside, he meant he would have liked to feel that post-workout buzz occasionally. Still, his current situation had its advantages. As he lay back, Arabella, Elowen and Cassandra sat with him, washing him, often straying low, teasing, then swimming away and wading back, water dripping from their breasts.

"Am I getting married?" he asked as Arabella finally mounted him.

"To Vella?" she asked, easing herself over him. "It's an elf thing. They like to walk around a tree or something. It's more a bonding."

"They pledge themselves to you for life and beyond. It's a throwback to when they were mystical tree-people."

"They're not mystical tree-people now?" he asked as Arabella found her pace, gliding up and down, her breast giggling and demanding attention. Josh reached and grabbed them, gently pinching each nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling them, delighting as they stiffened.

"Nothing like they were," Elowen said, swimming closer and cradling his head. "They rarely interacted—hardly left their forests; each bonded to a tree and spent their lives caring for it. That’s why they’re still aloof, which can be mistaken for snobbery but is more social awkwardness."

"Now they mine, get drunk and make all sorts of false justifications for chopping down trees to extend their fancy houses," Cassandra said, sliding to his other side. "Fucking hypocrites, I say.” She switched her attention to Arabella. “Are you going to hog him the whole time, Bells?"

"You had him last," she said, a little breathless.

"That was work—we were working on my magic. It’s not the same."

"It didn't look like work," Arabella said, her cheeks flushing and jaw tightening. "And as for your new magic chant, I hardly think it's appropriate for battle. Yes!" she cried, grinding Josh harder as she tossed her head from side to side.

“Cum-splat! I think it’s perfect. Hurry up!”

"She'll finish soon. Her nose twitches like a rabbit when she’s about to blow.” Elowen said.

“Does not,” said Arabella, her nose twitching.

"Besides,” Elowen continued. “She's got a load of pent-up cum in her from seeing you two shag."

"Well, if she sticks around after she's done, she's gonna see me having my fun again,” said Cassandra. “I'm not going to some elven wedding without a little fun to think about."

"Join the back of the cue," Elowen said. "I'm up next."

"Fine," Cassandra said. "I'll just cut you both out." She stood, standing over Josh and hovering over his face. "It's about time I got some tongue action, anyway."

She held momentarily, giving Josh time to appreciate her beauty. Her jet-black pussy brushed his nose, its curling hair almost blue in the glinting sunlight. Cassandra’s slight frame accentuated her bone structure, giving her vagina an angular look. Her lips weren't neat and tidy like Elowen's or Arabella’s but were full and fleshy. Her rising anticipation had already engorged her with blood, forcing her hood to prominence, her two buds glistening with moisture. She lowered herself onto his face slowly, teasing both herself and him until she finally met his kiss.

When their lips met, he savored her taste momentarily before working on her buds. He paused, brought her buds into his mouth, drawing flesh with it, then moving her in and out of him. Focusing on her allowed him to forget his pleasure, Arabella working his cock with practiced ease. He could cum. It wouldn’t matter. He rarely exhausted his store—his balls always brimming.

"Now we can say what we want and not worry whether he'll agree or not," Cassandra said, grabbing his hair and pulling him closer. "I suggest we girls vote on his clothes first. He's a bit trapper-in-the-wilds at the moment. I think he needs something more befitting a monster hunter."

Arabella screamed, her cry shivering down her spine to her sex, soaking him, the river cleaning them. She dismounted, standing over him, then bending around Cassandra and planting a kiss on the witch's lips. Had Josh's cock been able to get harder, it would have, but instead, it throbbed and twitched some before Elowen grabbed it and mounted him.

"I've wanted to do that for a while," Arabella said, sandwiched between the two other girls until she slipped out.

"Girl, you can do that whenever you want." Cassandra pulled Arabella around and into an embrace. "No reason we can't have some fun."

Josh stared in wonder as Arabella planted her legs on either side of him, bent and embraced Cassandra, kissing her passionately and brushing his hands aside as she fumbled with the witch's breasts.

"Shouldn't we ask Josh," Elowen said from behind as she reached forward, her hands snaking around Cassandra's waist, fingers running through the witch’s pubic hair.

Cassandra moaned, her power speckling her skin, small lightning forks arcing between her as all three stimulated her.

It was at that moment that Josh decided he hadn’t survived the Grillon blast, nor had he traveled through a wormhole. He’d died, and somehow, he’d gone to heaven.

Flowers decked the feasting hall. Vella stood before a grand table at the hall’s top. It ran the width of the hall, the other tables set at a right angle to it. Simmalion and Thadius stood in its center, waiting to take their seat. Cassandra, Elowen and Arabella filed past Vella, each kissing her on the cheek before parting and rounding the table. Arabella stood next to Thadius, with Elowen and then Cassandra taking their places, making the table appear lopsided. Three elderly elves marched in, one holding a thick tome and wearing a robe of interlocked leaves with a torc of the same trapping his flowing white hair in place. They took their seats at the table, signaling the others to sit and leaving two spaces next to Simmalion, presumably for Vella and him.

Surprisingly, Josh didn’t feel nervous at all. He was still treading on clouds from his experience in the river. A small but essential piece of the harem puzzle had clicked into place for him. He’d wondered how he could keep so many girls happy, but that foursome had taught him something extremely important. It was all about shared love. Yes, he was the apex, the top of the tree, but they could all love and cherish each other. It wasn’t about Cassandra falling for Arabella but more about a mutual acknowledgment of pleasure, and while Josh was the ultimate focus, their satisfaction was equally necessary, and any interaction between the girls enabled that love to flow so much better—it oiled the joints of the harem.

That gave him confidence—confidence her could keep another girl satisfied and confidence that he could expand his harem further if the need and attraction rose. It also cemented in him the acceptance that the Mythelore Code was the correct way of functioning. Arabella did need to have a say in who joined the harem, as ultimately, it was important for the girls to find a new addition attractive as well. That settled, he returned his focus to the hall.

The whole settlement had turned out for the betrothal, their murmur like a vibrant mist bubbling over the trestle tables, anticipation rife, fizzing the air. Josh bounced on his heels. He felt good, real good. The girl’s love fed him power, stroked his ego, and made him the luckiest man in the room. Cassandra had used her naturalism to purge his clothes of all their grime and smells thoroughly, and Arabella had scrubbed in some perfumes to make him smell really good. Fortunately, they’d dumped the idea of new clothes. His hair, while still short, had grown and hung in two bangs over his forehead, his parting central. After a lifetime of a cropped cut, he’d discovered the joy of running his fingers through long hair.

Vella turned, a beauty among the gathered crowd. She’d ditched her favored green two-piece and wore a long white cloak that shimmered in the torchlight. He could see her nimble body through it and wondered if she was naked beneath. The thought aroused him, which he quickly tried to douse but found his last memories equally stimulating. She beckoned him forward, and he strode with the march of a man brimming with confidence. Vella was already his, so this was mere formality, done to keep the elves on their side.

He drew alongside her, glancing across, catching her eye and falling into her smile. She was most certainly naked under her cloak, her pert breasts pushing at the gossamer fabric. His pulse quickened, and he quietly adjusted himself, accepting he’d have a boner for the entire duration of the ceremony.

The elf holding the tome stood. Josh assumed he was a priest of some kind and labeled him so. He later discovered the term was Silvanthor, but priest stuck in his mind.

“Today,” the priest said, “we celebrate the union of not one but two couples, and with it, we mourn the loss of our High Sorceress and Elder, Simmalion.”

Simmalion rounded the table and stood beside Vella. She smiled mischievously. “I thought I’d help you two out.”

Josh smiled back, wondering who the lucky man was, but Arabella drew his gaze as her jaw dropped open when Thadius stood and joined Simmalion.

“If I’m to take it easy, then I will need someone special to share it with,” he told Josh, loud enough for Arabella to hear.

Unable to contain herself, Arabella ran around the table, giving her dad a huge hug and showering him with kisses. “You kept that quiet,” she eventually said.

“Well, I couldn’t say anything, mostly because I didn’t know myself. We—”

“We came to an agreement. Your father and I have flirted for years, but he always said he never had time for a harem. Well, now he has.”

“You’re going to start a harem?” Josh asked.

Thadius gazed into Simmalion’s eyes. “I will start small, just one, but never say never. There could be benefits to expansion.”

She slapped him. “Don’t! When the girls find out the great Thadius Extrael is starting his harem, they’ll come petitioning from miles around.”

“We’ll have to extend the lodge,” Josh said.

Thadius scoffed. “With the deal Vella struck with the Stoneheart Guild, we’ll be able to buy the premises next door.”

“Over the river,” Vella said. “Then that bit of the river is ours, all to ourselves. We can build a bridge.”

“Over the river it is,” Thadius agreed.

The priest cleared his throat, and Arabella crept back to her seat.

“Might I proceed?” he asked.

“Please,” said Thadius. “I don’t know about everyone, but I’m starving.”

After the brief ceremony, Thadius and Simmalion, Vella and Josh walked the tree in the village’s center, and then they all returned to the table for the celebratory meal. Josh sat next to Simmalion, who, for the first couple of courses, said nothing to him but then relaxed and blurted her words.

“Thadius refuses to tell me where you’re from. He says it’s your call if I know or not.”

Josh pondered the thought, but not for long. “You’re part of our family now. I will tell you everything. Who knows, you helped Cassandra, so you might be able to help me.”

“Have you a demon in you? I know a shaman who might cast it out.”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s nothing like that.”

“But last time you were here, I heard all sorts coming from your nest. It sounded like you were wrestling with a beast.”

He thought she might be talking about his lovemaking sessions with his girls for a moment, but then he realized it would have been his training.

“I can only gain power through suffering. It’s a bit of a bummer, but basically, I have to hurt and heal for my body to grow stronger.”

She recoiled. “That sounds terrible.”

He huffed. “It’s not my favorite pastime, but the payoff is worth it. Although, if I’m honest, it was Arabella and Cassandra that killed the trolls. The rest of us were support.”

“Yes, Thadius mentioned a new way of doing things. Listen, I know it’s your harem, but I’ll be moving to Endover with you, and I’d like to ask your permission to train Cassandra.”

“She’s her own person. You can ask her yourself.”

Simmalion laughed. “Yes, but you are the guild head, whether you like it or not. So, with that said, would you mind if I asked Cassandra if she would like a tutor.”

“You may,” he said, purposely flat, thinking the whole protocol strange. But then he reminded himself how well their Code worked for him. “Sorry,” he said. “Some of your customs are a little formal for me, but I’m beginning to get it. Look, it would be fantastic if you could teach Cassandra, but I have to tell you,”—he leaned forward and glanced at his favorite witch— “she’s already mighty powerful. She threw lightning at the trolls. That, combined with the bang-bang paste, well, it really shook things up. I barely had to do anything.”

“She can produce lightning at will?”

“Part of her pyromancy, yes.”

“It always eluded me, but then that is the beauty of our magic. I worked harder on my air and water magic. On the surface, they appear the weakest branches, but once you’ve blasted a trog with an ice-spike or channeled wind with such fine precision that it cuts a monster in two, you realize that any branch of magic can be useful with the right amount of imagination.”

“You can cut a monster in two with air?” Josh said.

“Or water. Water can make a fantastic tool. It can cut granite. You could bore a tunnel clean through a mountain, should you fancy it.”

Possibilities tumbled from Josh’s mind as he thought of applications for magic beyond the blast-the-fuck-out-of-that spells. His mind wandered to the many industrial processes that suddenly fell within his grasp, from propulsion to construction, from every known weapon to each conceivable defense.

“What?” said Simmilion.

“Possibilities,” he replied. “Delightful possibilities.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

JOSH GRABBED ARABELLA, taking her to a quiet corner of the feasting hall. “Tell me about Harrogate Delaney,” he said.

“Harrogate?” She cocked her head. “He’s mad as a box of frogs.” She set her lips into a thin line as if wrestling with her definition. “No, slightly more insane than that, but utterly brilliant. My father would know more than me. He’s known Harrogate for years. I think they grew up together or went to the same monster-hunting school.”

“Harrogate is a monster hunter?”

“Was. Why? Look, ask Dad.”

“I can’t—not on his wedding day.”

“It’s your wedding day, too,” she pointed out.

“That’s beside the point.”

“It’s very much the point for Vella. Where is she, by the way?”

“Gone to get changed. She hated the cloak. Said it was too swishy-swishy.”

“Gave me a boner,” Arabella said. “If I had a—”

“Yeah, got it. So, Harrogate?”

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

“No.”

“Then let’s sit and have a drink at the very least.”

They found an empty trestle table and sat opposite each other, a jar of fruit punch between them that had a decent, fermented tang to it. Josh poured while Arabella told him what she knew.

“Harrogate had a different way of doing things. He theorized that the monsters were endless and that they would become more and more frequent as time passed.”

“Did he say why?”

“He likened it to a veil between worlds and said that once a veil was torn, the tear never mended completely, so a new tear was more likely following each tear.” She blinked and shook her head. “Does that make any sense?”

“He was saying that each time a monster crossed into the land, the crossing became easier for the next monster.”

She nodded. “That’s a much easier way of saying it. So, he put it to the King that they needed to think of a new way of killing monsters. He had some mad calculations.”

“Calculations? What type.”

“Formula,” Thadius said from behind Josh. “I take it you are talking of Harrogate Delaney?”

Thadius took a seat beside Arabella, and Simmalion sat with Josh.

“Yes. But look, it will wait.”

Thadius thumbed his temples. “I don’t mind speaking about him. He was a dear friend. We never actually fell out—just had different paths. He’s been on my mind a lot since the trolls.” Thadius sighed. “Harrogate came up with a formula. He called it the Formula of Diminishing Adventurers. It went a little like this. For every monster spawned, a certain amount of an adventurer—or monster hunter, if you prefer that term—died. So, it might take, say, ten monster spawnings to kill one adventurer.”

“That sounds likely,” Josh said, understanding the math.

“Then,” Thadius continued. “That spawning had a frequency. So if ten monsters a day spawned, then one adventurer a day would inevitably die. You follow?”

“Yep.”

“Then he took the total number of adventurers to graduate from monster-hunting classes the year he came up with the theory. I think it was ninety-something, but let’s say one hundred. His problem was simple. If one thousand monsters spawned, all the adventurers would die. If all the adventurers died, then in theory less adventurers would be born the following year.”

“Okay. A simplification because the lag would be a generation, but I get the gist.” Josh took a sip of his drink, nearly choking when it bit the back of his throat like a fine whiskey.

“Exactly. Let’s take the simple route for the sake of tonight’s conversation. Ninety-eight adventurers would be born the following year, but over a thousand monsters would spawn. One became fewer. One became more frequent. It doesn’t take a genius to see where the figures end, but unfortunately, none barring him were a genius—myself included.”

“But,” said Arabella, “we’re all still here. So he must have been wrong.”

“He was right,” said Elowen, joining them. “Just not yet.” She sat. “Harrogate Delaney predicted the future, not the present. We aren’t spawning a thousand monsters a year yet. But my group monitored it, and while infrequent, monster sightings are rising. The greatest flaw in Harrogate’s formula was this.” She pushed her glasses up to the bridge of her nose. “Not every monster that spawns is strong enough to bother killing. Some go unnoticed for years. Peasants kill others. Harrogate imagined huge monsters and sloppy hunters, but”—she raised her fingers—“the core of his argument was correct. Monsters, while they appeared to fizzle out, are more prevalent now than in the early days.”

“This,” said Thadius, “is where I disagree. I’ve fought monsters all my life, and the monsters of today are not as powerful as those of yesteryear.”

“Because Calico and the kingsmen fought them. You’ve had the scraps for years. Any decent-paying job was always taken before you got a sniff. Now he’s dead, Mythelore will be at the mercy of every large monster. Harrogate’s formula is about to be tested, except you can substitute the army for adventurers, and you can bet your last shaving that more than one soldier will be killed for each monster taken down.”

“No one listened to this Harrogate?” Simmalion asked.

“Why would they?” Thadius asked. “He forecast the end of all human life on Mythelore. No one wants to hear that.”

“They didn’t praise him for his work?” the elf asked.

“No,” Thadius said, his head in his hands. “They ridiculed him, and while I never joined in, I never stood by him either.”

“He had a solution, didn’t he?” Josh asked.

Thadius’ eyes met his. “Yes, he did, and that is why I’ve been thinking of him lately.”

“Go on.” Josh had a feeling he knew precisely what the solution would be.

“His solution was simple. If we killed more monsters while losing fewer adventurers, we could always remain ahead, but our methods for killing the threats—as he called them—had to become more efficient as the monsters spawned faster. He had a formula for that, too, but I can't recall it for the life of me because it didn’t matter.”

“Why didn’t it matter?” Arabella asked.

Thadius gripped his mug so hard his knuckles whitened. “Because we fight monsters with swords, bows, arrows, spears, grit, and courage. It’s how we’ve always done it, and until Josh came along, I thought it would be how we’d always do it.” He paused. “And I’d have died happy doing it that way until…”

“Until what?” Simmalion asked, reaching, peeling his hand from the cup. “Until what, Thadius?”

“Until I saw Josh building his harem. Until I saw how they killed the trolls with cold and clinical power. Do you know, none of them came even close to dying? Ten, twelve trolls and not one injury.”

“Until what, Thadius?” Simmalion gripped his hand tightly, her knuckles whitening.

“Until I knew we had a future together, dear,” he said.

“Better.”

Josh wrestled with his thoughts. On the one hand, he really wanted to kick the adventurer’s lodge into shape, get the fairy patrols going, kick back, and have some downtime. But on the other, he needed to meet Harrogate Delaney. “We need him,” he said.

“I’m not sure you need anything,” Thadius said. “You will get more powerful. Cassandra will become more powerful. Don’t forget, you’re quite formidable already.”

“No, we need him,” Josh said. “We need him because if what he says is true, we can’t solely hunt monsters. We need to research them, find out where the threat comes from and shut the source. We have to defeat this Ravenheart, find out where he came from and why he drives monsters here. We must come up with new ways to kill them that we can give to villagers to defend themselves with. We have to prepare for Harrogate Delany’s worst nightmare, or else when it comes true, we will all die.”

Vella looked into his eyes, and he became lost in her emerald irises. His mind sank into them as she gyrated against him, the elven song slow, the night drawing to a close.

“Don’t you drink at all?” he asked.

He’d had a skinful but couldn’t get drunk. It was the first time he’d had more than a few casual ales, so he’d never experienced the efficiency of the cleansing bots inside him. He’d drank, and they’d scrubbed the alcohol from his system, so he’d remained sober. Arabella had fallen by the wayside, unused to fermented drinks. He’d carried her to bed. Elowen had gone green and spent her last hour with her head over a bucket before he’d finally got her to bed, too. Cassandra was a fiery drunk who’d swerved from anger to tears and across to unquenchable lust in the blink of an eye. He’d had to promise her sex to get her back in their elven nest, but the minute her head hit her pillow, her eyes closed, her mouth sagged open, and her snores started.

Which left Vella.

She’d danced with every elf that asked. She’d healed the old ones so they could manage a shuffle and renewed the tired ones so they could stay up a little longer. Vella had been the perfect host until the only ones left were an elven flutist, her and Josh.

“Happy?” Josh asked.

“Happy,” she said.

“What do you want to do next?”

She cocked her head. “Show you something.”

He grinned. “You want me to show you something in return?”

She laughed, slapped him, broke away, thanked the flutist, grabbed Josh’s hand and led him from the hall.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” she said, hurrying through the village and into the forest. “You like Lyra and Dinsy?”

“Very much. It was a shame they missed today. I didn’t realize fairies got so homesick.”

“Hate being away from their family. They’ll not like you going away.”

“I’m not going away.”

“Yes, you are. We’re going to see Harrogate Delaney.”

“I haven’t made up my mind about that.”

She stopped, pressing her finger against his lips. “Yes, you have, and it’s fine. I’ll go wherever you go. I don’t care where. If you need Harrogate, we go get Harrogate, simple.”

He grinned. “You’re magnificent.”

“Yes.”

Vella led him into the forest. He inhaled the fragrant air, its rich, mossy odor filling him with vitality and sloughing away any tiredness he felt.

“Why the woods?” he asked, not too fussed where they ended up, but they did have a perfectly good bed.

“You’ll see. Show you something.”

“Not…?”

“Not first,” she said with a smile.

If Vella was one thing, it was extraordinary in the true sense of the word. If it were usual for a wife to bed her husband on their wedding night, she’d come up with something entirely different, and the best bit was that he knew she didn’t do it on purpose. It was her. It was how she worked.

They climbed upward; their way illuminated by moonlight. Trees crowded them, their mossy sides catching the light, making everything magical. Vella led him off the path and deeper into the forest, his boots squishing into its moss carpet, the chitter of the nocturnal animals a constant reminder that they weren’t alone.

Burbling water layered over the forest’s background noise, as much a part of it as the shuffling hedgehog or the burrowing mole. It grew louder as a stream appeared. Vella followed the stream’s course, crouching as they came to the top of a rise, then pressing her fingers to his lips to tell him to be quiet. She crept on, crouching at the edge of a small pool.

“This,” she said. “Watch. They heard us coming, so they’re hiding. Once they see it's me, they’ll peek out.”

“Once who come out?” Josh whispered.

“The light fairies.”

He wanted to ask her what the hell light fairies were, but she pressed her fingers to his lips again, then sat cross-legged by the pool’s edge. Josh sat next to her, watching the pool and wondering what was supposed to happen.

He jerked back, unsure quite what he’d seen but knowing he’d seen something. It was quick—so fast that if he’d blinked, he would have missed it. Then it happened again. A tiny burst of golden light flickered in and out of existence.

“What?”

“Shush!” she said.

Another flashed closer to Vella, but it hung longer, almost the length of a finger snap. The next time, light exploded right in front of Josh’s eyes, causing him to blink, but as his eyes shut, the memory of a tiny female face was imprinted on his mind. When he opened his eyes again, she was gone.

Then, a tiny light hovered over the pond’s middle. A miniature golden fairy stepped from it, hovering, looking from Vella to Josh, then back again before vanishing. More lights snapped into existence, some blinking straight back out again while others lingered, fairies emerging, slowly gathering confidence.

Vella held her hand out, coaxing one with an irresistible smile. The lights popped closer and closer until one hatched over her palm, and the fairy stepped out, landing on her, fluttering her gossamer wings.

As Josh studied the fairy closer, he realized it differed quite a lot from Lyra and Dinsy. The creature’s body was burning, but the flames weren’t consuming it, but more adding to it, making it more vibrant.

“A sprite?” he whispered, but the sprite vanished when he spoke.

“Sprite, yes,” Vella said, reaching into her skirt and bringing out a small pouch. “Hand,” she said.

Josh held his hand out, and she tapped some sugar crystals onto it. “Try,” she said.

As soon as his palm hovered close to the pond, a golden light popped, and a sprite climbed through, hovering over him, sniffing the air. Her little eyes widened, and she swooped for the sugar. More lights popped, and more sprites dove for the sugar.

Vella sprinkled more on the rocks, and within moments, dozens of sprites hatched, some taking the sugar and vanishing, others lingering, hoping for more.

“Sprites,” she whispered. “Some say elemental—fire elemental, others, whisp. Nice, but they bite if you frighten. Ask yourself this, Josh Underwood. Where do they come from, and where do they go? Fairies the same. Not born here. Want to know where monsters come from? Ask Lyra.”

Josh offered his hand to Vella, and she tipped a little more sugar on it. He brought his hand close to his face, waiting, closing his eyes. The instant a golden light bloomed, he opened them to see a sprite stepping through, but this time, he focused on the land behind. He couldn’t see much, but he was sure from the briefest of glimpses that he saw enormous, dark mountains reaching for a starry sky.

“They come from somewhere else,” he said.

“Perhaps,” she said. “But maybe not. Does it matter?”

“It might.”

“Why? You go there to fight monsters?”

“Would you follow me?”

“Yes.” She dropped the pouch, her arms around him as she drew him to her. “Go anywhere with Josh of the Underwood.

She laid him down and straddled him.

“Anywhere.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

JOSH WATCHED VELLA. She moved through the settlement with grace, greeting any that hailed her, sliding past any that didn’t with impossible anonymity. It was inconceivable to him that anyone would miss her beauty—would fail to recognize that something so precious had passed them by. She was stunning. He’d known that for a while. But the previous evening had shown him her true depths. Not only had she ensured everyone was fine and had a good time, but she’d also revealed knowledge of the land and its mysteries way beyond most.

The sprites came from a different place—not too different in its geology and almost certainly not dissimilar to Mythelore's atmospheric makeup and climate. It had crossed his mind that the mountains he’d seen could be the Hangsane. When he’d talked to her about it during their walk home, she’d shrugged and asked him if it mattered.

He found that an annoying response, but the more he thought about it, the more he came around to her simplistic view of life.

“Monsters come through a door,” she’d said. “If you walk from one room to another, does it matter where the other room is?”

It was the type of question that a philosopher might have posed. Of course, it mattered where the other room was. Why wouldn’t it? But the sheer stupidity of the question irked him the most. Yet, as he walked the mossed-hemmed path, the moon lighting the mystical forest surrounding him, its infinite possibilities dragged him under like a sea swirling around a drowning man.

Once in the other room, could he be sure he hadn’t stepped through a portal? Was the other room linked, or could it be miles away? Was he sure all rooms weren’t independently flying around the ether and only became connected when the door opened? Suddenly, as was the way with lateral thinking, what he knew to be sure became doubtful.

But the crux of her question was simple when he stripped all the esoteric thought away. Did it matter? It didn’t because all he had to do was find a way to shut the door. The goal was to stop the monsters, and what better way than preventing them from coming in the first place?

Lost in thought, he jumped out of his skin when Vella’s face popped up right in front of him like a sprite peering out from a different dimension. She tapped his forehead with her knuckles.

“You in there?” She beamed, her smile lighting his heart with the fire of love.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Door question?”

“Yeah, that damn door question.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, grabbing his hand and leading him toward a large yard with a central barn. “Need better door with a bigger lock, that’s all.”

“Yep, that’s all we need.” Her simple solution would solve the land’s monster problem. They only had to understand the door.

“Where the hell have you been?” a disheveled-looking Cassandra said. She had a green tinge about her jaws, and bloodshot eyes peered through her unkempt hair. “I feel like shit,” she said. “Gimmie some of that heal-love, Vella.”

“Sure, heal!”

Cassandra perked, closing her eyes and then widening them slowly. “You are never allowed to vanish the morning after. Got it? Did you all get bladdered? Were you both a mess?”

“We faired okay,” said Josh.

“No,” Vella replied.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Elowen said, walking along the fence, using both hands to steady her. “Gimmie now. Take the pain away. I’ll give you anything you want, Vella, anything at all.”

“Heal!”

Elowen sagged, taking deep breaths. “That is so much better. I owe you. I owe you my life. I will be your servant forever.”

“Okay.”

“Right now, I gotta go pee. Couldn’t balance well enough before.”

Cassandra mussed her hair. “I’m going to make myself presentable. I must look like a disemboweled badger. The wagons are lush, darling. You’ll love them. We should try out mine tonight. Can we swing by my house on the way to Mythelore? I have a few things hidden under the floorboards I want. I assumed I wouldn’t have the room, but— Well, you’ll see.”

“Not sure we’ve decided to go there yet,” Josh said.

Cassandra looked them both up and down, picking a moss tuft from Vella’s hair. “While you two have been alfresco shagging, Thadius has been making choices. His new life appears to have revitalized him. He wants Harrogate, and he’s going to ask you to go fetch him.”

“What about Ravenheart?”

Cassandra walked away, staggered and nearly fell.

“Renew!”

She rounded, pulling Vella into an embrace and kissing her. “You’re a lifesaver.” She paused. “Ravenheart will wait. He’s powerful—so powerful he sent the trolls running from their land. The boars fled with their tails between their legs, and the harpies upped sticks and moved their nest. We’re out of bang-bang juice, so a mad alchemist inventor appears to be exactly what we need, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’m not arguing. They were my thoughts, too.”

Cassandra walked off, then spun around, her verve back to its usual bubbliness. “Oh, and I hear Melody’s hot, hot, hot!” She winked at him. “More filling for the sandwich!”

Josh grinned, shaking his head. He’d barely gotten used to having four girls, and they were already lining up a fifth.

“Hot! Hot! Hot!” said Vella as she dragged him into the yard.

Stacks of wood littered it, some honed to planks, others trunks and branches. A pile of iron ingots sat beside a barrel full of metal shavings. Vella pulled the barn’s huge door open and slipped through.

“Ah, Vella!” Thadius called. “Is Josh with you?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Here.” Josh slid into the barn.

Four wagons sat parked in a line. Their wood gleamed under the barn’s diffuse light. Each was different, but all looked stunning. Thadius steered an elven man and woman toward Josh and Vella.

“Hello, Asril, Fermil,” Vella said.

“Good morning, Vella,” trilled the female—a prim-looking elf who had a starched look about her. “I’m Asril, you must be Josh. I’ve heard so much about you. Lovely tree walk yesterday, though I confess I had a little too much golden juice. You two look fresh as daisies. How I envy you your youth! This is Fermil. He’s the nuts and bolts elf while I am the enchanter.”

“Hi,” said Josh, a little lost for words. The wagons were magnificent. Each comprised white wood with polished steel trimmings. “They aren’t wagons, they’re carriages,” he said.

“Ah,” Femil interjected. “We prefer to call them lifestyle choices.” Femil’s intensity surprised Josh. His saturated gray eyes picked apart any resistance Josh had to his unfamiliarity. His shoulder-length hair swished with every jerky head movement, and his words curled around Josh before snapping into his ears. “A couple using one of our wagons has chosen to set themselves apart. They have chosen the ultimate conveyance. Come, come.” He led Josh to the first wagon. “Now, I don’t expect you to know this, but Elarathon is renowned for its carriages. Wagons flow in our blood. My family has made them for hundreds of years, and Asril’s has enchanted each and every one. I’m fourth generation, and she is third—that should give you a good idea of the experience we bring to the table. I wanted to make sure you understood this so I can reassure you that we can manage any of your future needs.”

“We can make any type,” Asril said. “If it’s leisure, trade or war, we can be your go-to manufacturers. Simmalion commissioned the first one with Ms. Arabella and yourself in mind. As you are harem head, we have included an oversized bed, a bath and a meeting area. You have storage for all your weapons, wardrobes for your clothes, and a shelf and desk for your ledgers and correspondence.”

Josh scratched his head. What Asril described and the carriage’s size didn’t tally. But something else didn’t add up. “How come you can work iron into steel? Do you have a blast furnace?”

“No, I have ferrumurge. I can manipulate any metal. Asril enchants the wood, so between us, we are capable of producing the finest wagons. Before we show you the inside, let me take you through a couple of the external features. First, we have the driving bench. Retractable steps allow an easy ascent. Top-quality weather-resistant cushioning allows a comfortable drive while swiveling footrests let you stretch your legs. We have various rein-rings to allow you a choice of beast, whether a horse is your choice or even a roc or long-leg. We’re all about freedom here. If you want a dragon to pull you, you have the mounting to make it happen.”

He took a couple of steps back. “Two more points, then I’ll hand over to Asril, who will show you the inside. First, we have the roof. It’s fully reinforced, so you can use it for defense or extra storage. Then there’s the suspension. We boast the only carriages with fully charmed steel springs for extra durability and superior performance. Whether it’s a mountain trail or cobbled street, you’ll glide along.” He beamed. “What do you think so far?”

Josh was at a loss for words. He’d expected a decent wagon but hadn’t anticipated anything like the quality he’d seen to exist in the land. “You do great work, Femil.”

“It’s Asril,” said Femil. “She’s the real talent.”

“No, I think you have a lot to do with it.”

“We did try extra hard on these, as we’d quite like to negotiate a license to use your seal.”

“A license?”

“Have it,” said Vella. “Stamp carriages. We say fifteen gold per year. What you say?”

“Ten.”

“Twelve.”

“Deal.”

Josh scratched his head, wondering what the hell had just happened, but Femil fished in his pocket and counted out twelve gold coins. “There. I’ll get the plaques done quickly. If it’s alright with you, I’d like them in place before your trip to Mythelore. It could be a whole new market for us.”

“Okay,” said Vella, who, it appeared, had assumed the position of negotiator for all things elven.

“To the inside,” Asril trilled again, taking Vella by the arm. “You won’t regret giving us that seal. You can have a substantial discount on any future purchases.”

“We’ll see,” Vella said. “If you get busy-busy, then free.”

“Deal,” said Asril as she climbed the steel steps and opened the wagon’s back doors.

Josh lingered on the steps momentarily, not entirely understanding what he saw. The inside blurred, much longer than it should be, stretched and pinched in. Asril beckoned him forward. “What you are witnessing is enchantrial distortion. The space on the inside is larger than its external constraints. However, as you aren’t inside, you can only see the enchantment effect in front of you. It makes it appear elongated, but once you step in, it will correct itself. You’ll be a bit dizzy the first few times you enter, but you’ll soon get used to it.”

“Enchantrial distortion,” Josh repeated as he stepped in, and the carriage’s inside expanded and folded around him. He reached out and steadied himself, suddenly dizzy.

“Welcome,” said Arabella, rising from her seat and strolling toward him. “Welcome to our home from home,” she said, her expression radiant.

“You need heal?” Vella asked.

“No, I’m fine—better than fine. Who wouldn’t be fine with this gift?”

“It was my understanding,” Asril said, “that you earned this. Getting the iron mine open will pay for these one hundred times over. The iron you see outside came from Endover. The Stoneheart Guild gouged the price.”

“We could have a word,” Josh offered.

Asril laughed. “Don’t. They recently ordered a carriage, so they’ll only end up paying for it themselves, plus our profit on top. We try to win whenever we can.” She grinned, then asked, “Would you like to show Josh around?” She smiled, but then her expression clouded. “No, you show him around. I’ll be on hand to answer any questions.”

Arabella grabbed Josh. “So, as you can see, the wagon is significantly larger on the inside. Let’s get to the most important bit. The bed sleeps four, five at a pinch, but I think four is comfortable.”

The bed took up one corner of the carriage and had two small tables on either side, several links and loops above its headboard, and two lanterns placed evenly above.

“Are those loops for…” he asked.

“We put them in on the off chance they’re a preference. We can always remove them if that type of play offends,” Asril interjected.

“No,” Josh said as he considered it. “Leave them be. Never say never, someone recently said to me.”

“Wise choice,” said Arabella with a wink. “Next to the bed is our bath and basin. There are no taps or drains, but we have Cassandra, so Asril built it with that in mind. If, for any reason, Cassandra isn’t with us, Asril has added in backup enchantments that we can use, but we will need to top them up if they run out—they have a plan for that. Then we have some wardrobes and a desk on the other side. So this is our personal space, nicely tucked into the carriage’s back.”

Josh looked it all over, and if he were honest with himself, he thought it more comfortable than his lodge. “I kind of want to go back to my original idea of roaming the land monster hunting. This isn’t how I saw camping.”

“We’ll spend plenty of time on the road, sweets,” said Arabella. “You’ll have your fair share of camping.”

He walked around the meeting table, then sat on a sofa to its side. “It’s fantastic,” he said.

Asril sat beside him. “A couple of things before you move on to the next. Each of our wagons is bonded to the owner, or in this case, the owners. It affords you and you only entrance. You can give permission for others to come and go. That permission must be renewed regularly as it will fade over time. There are two types of permission—full access or minimal. Minimal means the person looking in or entering will only see a normal wagon. Full, of course, means they will see the lot. It’s handy if you’re getting searched at borders and the like. Minimal access fades quickly.”

“Sounds awesome,” Josh said.

“Anyone looking at the wagon from the outside will only see a normal wagon unless you want to impress. Then, you can dismiss the charm and reinstate it at will. To activate all of that and access to all the other wagons, I’ll have to inscribe a small rune on you somewhere—call it a key.”

“I had mine on my butt,” said Arabella.

Josh frowned. “What about Vella? When we ordered these, we didn’t have Vella in our harem.”

“Don’t want one,” said Vella. “Want to sleep here with you and Bells.”

Arabella shrugged. “I’m happy with that. Bed’s plenty big enough, and if you start tiring, we have stamina on tap.”

Josh held out his arm. “Go for it,” he said.

Asril muttered some words, and a small seal appeared. It had a large M and S with what resembled a spear darting through it. The rest of the letters—the I, S, F, I and T- were jumbled, but the word Misfits was somehow apparent. The rune glowed then faded, vanishing to feint white lines.

“There, that’s the master key done. I’ll do Vella’s while you look around the other carriages. Arabella asked that everyone in the harem have access to every carriage, so each rune is set up that way, but you, Josh, have the master rune, so you can revoke permissions in an emergency.”

“Got it,” he said. “But I highly doubt I’ll ever need to do that.”

A small light blinked in his mind’s eye. He knew instantly that his ring had organized the rune’s commands.

Access rune:

Josh: All access.

Arabella: All access. No editing.

Vella: Access to Master Carriage, The Cauldron, The Library.

Elowen: Access to Master Carriage, The Cauldron, The Library. Can moderate The Library.

Cassandra: Access to Master Carriage, The Cauldron, The Library. Can moderate The Cauldron.

Thadius: Access to Lodge carriage. Can moderate Lodge Carriage.

Simmalion: Access to Lodge carriage. Can moderate Lodge Carriage.

Temporary all-access granted to Femil, Asril.

External appearance: Normal

Internal appearance: Normal

External defenses: Disabled

“We could use some way for the fairies to get in and out of this one,” Josh said.

“Already taken care of,” Asril replied, waving her hand to a hatch in the roof, which slid back. “They just need an access code.”

“External defenses?”

“Some simple built-in spells, nothing fancy. The carriage will try and protect itself if attacked.”

“Well, I’ll be fucked,” Josh said.

“I imagine you will be. This is a primo love nest.”

Elowen’s wagon, named The Library, was similar to Josh’s and Arabella’s on the outside, but that was where the similarity ended. Inside, hers was grand but not quite as large as theirs. Elowen’s bed was large enough for two—a consideration for when Josh would stay over. Her desk was larger than theirs, with a stack of blank notepads, pencils and even an ink pen. There was a niche with a comfortable sofa fitted into it, and a bath and basin, the same as ours. Apart from one small wardrobe and a chest of drawers, empty shelves dominated the rest of the carriages. It was perfect for Elowen.

The Cauldron was different. As Cassandra had demanded, it had a lookout tower and a chimney. It was a little top-heavy and looked like one good gust would blow it over.

“We had to be creative regarding this one,” Femil explained. “As you can see, making it taller gave us a few logistical issues. Fortunately, as it was designated for a caster, it gave us some flexibility. So, the tower and the chimney are, essentially, illusions. So, even though you can retract the roof and climb into the tower, it isn’t actually there. Does that make sense?”

“Not in the slightest, but not to worry. What’s the inside like?” Josh asked.

The inside was deliciously dark and foreboding. Clad in black wood, it had all the essentials like the other carriages but with the added bonus of a spiral staircase leading up to the tower, a huge iron cauldron, dozens of animal cages, perches and roosts, and plants that climbed the cladding, twisting along the ceiling and over the modest double bed.

“It’s perfect, isn’t it,” said Cassandra. “It’s like a mobile cliché waiting to be mocked by the prim and proper. I love it, although I have to confess, the spill charm intrigues me.”

“A personal favorite of mine,” said Asril. “It is a particularly delicate charm, but not what you’d think. If I were a sorceress rather than an enchantress, one would assume I’d used hydromancy, but that is not the case. The enchantment is rooted in Femil’s ferrumurge ability. It uses pressure generated by the pot’s iron rim to hold the air between it at a higher pressure than elsewhere to create a seal. Quite ingenious, if I do say so myself. Femil does all the hard work, but I invariably get the credit.”

Thadius’ carriage was remarkable, but after Cassandra’s, it seemed ordinary. Functional was as good a way to describe it as anything, and while Josh looked over it and acted suitably impressed, he could tell that Femil and Asril hadn’t worked with the same flair, given Thadius’ probably mundane input.

“What do you think?” Arabella asked.

“I think they’re perfect.”

“Aren’t they? Simmalion has also arranged four teams of two horses, so we can be off in the morning.”

“Boring horses,” said Cassandra, “but I suppose Arabus would draw more attention than we want.”

Josh snorted. “I think your carriage might turn a few heads.”

“Darling! I turn the heads, and don’t you forget it.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

BLACK SMOKE ROSE from the valley, billowing from blazing buildings. They raced from the forest, screams cracking across the farmland. The unmistakable stench of burning flesh filled the air. Josh’s adrenaline rose, his bloodlust so strong his head pounded. He stood on the wagon’s bench and pumped his fist upward, telling Cassandra and Elowen to stop.

After a quiet couple of weeks, he salivated at the thought of a fight. The ring demanded its quota of blood to justify its existence. It hated the lull in action. He’d not wasted the time, however. Passing from the elven lands, through Elrima and further into Eldorwyn, the province of Lord Seymour, they headed north to Califire, the capital city of Mythelore. Josh had run most of the way, easily keeping up with the carriages, sprinting past them and then racing back.

He'd hurdled imaginary fences, even ducking lightning tossed by Cassandra as she practiced and learned to control her magic. By exhausting himself every day and failing to avoid some of Cassandra’s strikes, he’d finally found a way to up his speed and agility without causing himself too much pain. There was some, of course, but nothing his bots and Vella couldn’t handle. By way of good fortune, it also upped his arcane resistance. However, he failed to see how any resistance could deflect a lightning bolt. One particular one had seen his foot fly off, severed at the ankle. That injury had taken a day and two nights to heal while his foot regrew, and he wasn’t positive but suspected he had two toes weren’t symmetrical in length to his other foot.

He'd upped his strength, too, but that had been relatively trauma-free. A heavy downpour had seen them stuck at the base of a long upward climb. Rather than wait it out, he’d decided to push the wagons up the hill. After failing several times and getting crushed by the carriages’ wheels, he’d learned that pulling had the same effect, and constant renews from Vella would see him make the top eventually. Once he realized the exercise worked, he pulled the carriages up every hill, which elicited some strange looks from passing travelers, but that was fine. He’d take that for the stats, and like as not, he’d never see them again, anyway.

All in all, he was pretty happy with his stat gain. His last notification was the most satisfying as it had seen him top twenty-eight, just two points away from his next evolution.

New Score =

Strength = 27

Speed and Agility = 29

Durability = 32

Combat instinct = 20

Arcane resistance = 34

Poison resistance = 28

Average = 28.16

His one-point gain in durability for losing a foot was pretty miserly, and his improvements in arcane resistance didn’t merit the pain, but each moved him closer to his goal. Two stats had remained stagnant. He’d not advanced in combat instinct because he’d only had one fight, and that was with some bandits that had chosen to rob them. The fight was too one-sided to be called a tactical victory and over too quickly to show any holes in his tactical thinking. No one had poisoned him, so he hadn’t increased that attribute, and he’d been unwilling to miss a day of strength and speed training, so he hadn’t wanted Vella to spend the time poisoning him.

But the breakthrough in his strength and speed stats was invaluable. Never in his life had he felt so fit and healthy. His body had bulked out, shoulders much broader, chest wider, and six-pack more defined. With each movement, he was far more economical and fluid as well. Simple things like jumping on and off the wagon were so much smoother. Arabella told him he had incredible grace, and Elowen marveled at how he could move, likening it to feline slickness. His speed, gained from running, translated to every action. When he’d fought the bandits, his reaction time had been insane. Each of their gang was sluggish, telegraphing their languid strikes, allowing him to duck and counter easily.

Unfortunately, his stat gain slowly ground to a halt. At least, that was what it seemed like. As he progressed, he needed new challenges to progress. Pulling the carts didn’t increase his strength because they weren’t heavy enough anymore. Running couldn’t increase his speed because his legs couldn’t carry him any faster. Whether another evolution would change that, he didn’t know. But one thing he did know, as he scanned the smokey horizon, was that he was looking forward to putting his new stats to the test.

“Possible monster attack!” he cried, ducking into his carriage and retrieving his sword and belt. “I’m going ahead to see if I can help. Join me as soon as you can. Cassandra! Protect them all.”

He pecked Arabella and Vella on the cheek and jumped down, racing along the road toward the blazing village. He quickly came to tilled farmland, running beside drystone walls, the road winding gently down toward a river.

Smoke hung heavy on the air, the screams no longer filling it. Josh slowed, drawing his sword, and scanning the ruined buildings for signs of a monster or, at the very least, a survivor. The village clustered around a river and bridge. The central five or six buildings had taken the worst damage, so he approached them.

“Psst!”

Josh froze.

“Over here, you fool!” a man’s voice sounded. “They’re by the bridge. Get over here and hide.”

The man hid under a cart, a kid by his side. Josh crouched close. “What are they?”

“Some fucking lizard-like things. But they stand on two feet, and one of them—the red one—breathes fire. Another had talons the size of your sword and as sharp and all.”

“By the bridge?”

“Yeah. They dragged the dead there. Got Lucy Haybailer and a few others. The rest of the village folk holed up in the tavern. If they get a whiff of them, it’ll be carnage.”

“Where’s the tavern?”

“Doubles as a granary—got the waterwheel. Just past the bridge, it is. You’ll not defeat them on your own.”

“You got the mettle to stay here?”

“Looking after the kid.”

“Then either stay here or run up the road. If you see three wagons, they’re my companions. Tell them what you told me, and they’ll come and help me.”

“You gonna take them on?”

“Of course, I am. They’re monsters, and I hunt monsters.”

“What’s the name of your guild, mister?” said the kid.

“We’re The Misfits,” Josh said, full of pride.

“Bit of an odd name, if you don’t mind me saying,” said the man.

“No, it isn’t,” Josh said and crept away.

“Yes, it is,” said the man. “Daft name.”

“Fuck off,” Josh muttered, pressing against a building and darting to the next. Holding his sword at the ready, he edged along the back of one building, then paused, scanning the confused scene. A smoking shell stood between him and the river. Across the road, another building neared collapse, its roof sagging inwards and flames licking its window frames. Wind drove the smoke toward Josh, which suited him fine for cover but was no good for his eyesight. He assessed his options.

He could attack in full armor but had no real idea how his durability would fare against flames. Cassandra’s lightning had done him plenty of damage, which had taken a while to heal. A gout of flames straight to his face might melt his skin and blind him. No matter how good his armor, he’d lose that fight. The red lizard changed everything. Josh was vulnerable to a ranged fire attack. Deciding stealth was his best option until Cassandra and Arabella offered him a ranged attack, he quickly called for his gear. Discarding his clothes and belt, he took his sword and sneaked along the back of the gutted building, keeping as low as possible to avoid the smoke.

He came to its edge, crouching and counting six monsters, snarling and hissing, ripping bodies limb from limb and sucking raw flesh from the bones. The red one was the farthest, nearly on the bridge. It was their leader as well as ranged damage dealer. It was the one he needed to take out first. Josh waited. All the while, they weren’t killing anyone else he could afford to hang on for the girls, and then they could coordinate an attack.

The tavern-come-granary sat over the river. It was a smaller building than he’d imagined when the man told him about it, barely two levels with a steeply pitched thatched roof that extended nearly to the ground. The waterwheel clunked, the only sound barring the crackle of fire and the snorting and hissing of the beasts. Josh’s heart pounded, mouth dry, tasting of burned ash, the stench of charred flesh mixing with it.

A cry rang out—a pathetic whimper, followed by the squeal of a dry hinge and a shout, “No!”

The tavern door opened, and a man ran out, darting for the forest behind the building. Josh gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to run, hoping the man would make it. The red lizard whipped around, was over the bridge in two great strides, braced, drew back its head, then thrust it forward, a gout of flame issuing. It enveloped the man, turning him into a fireball as he changed direction and raced toward the river. His screams filled Josh with horror. The man fell to his knees ten yards short. His screams stopped, and he planted facedown in the mud.

The creatures stopped their frenzied feeding, joining their leader on the bridge. They moved toward the tavern.

“Fuck it,” Josh muttered and burst forward.

His pace was incredible, his strides lengthening as he gained more momentum, rounding the bridge and catching the first lizard. Rather than attack, he jumped onto the bridge’s parapet wall and leaped diagonally over the river’s edge, landing on the bank with a quiet thud. He sprang for the red monster, driving his sword through its throat. It whipped around, oblivious to the sword severing its neck and opened its maw, bright orange flames hatching in its mouth, blooming at him instantly.

“Scale armor!” Josh shouted, taking the speed loss.

He dipped my head to save his eyes as its flames wrapped around him, the stench of burning hair filling his nostrils. The pain ripped through him as his scalp boiled and blistered. But he couldn’t let it stop him. With a scream, he forced his blade through the creature’s tough skin. Its head fell to one side, hanging by white sinews, flames still spouting from its neck.

Josh’s head pounded, blood and bots racing to heal his ruined skin. He’d had worse and faced the other lizards, placing himself between them and the tavern. Huge bladed talons sprung from the lead lizard’s fists, but his eyes were on a pocket forming around another.

“Fuck it,” he muttered. “A caster.”

Knowing he’d have to roll with anything thrown at him, he engaged the bladed one. It blocked his first strike with its forearm, its other shooting out to rip at his chest. Sparks flew as its talon’s sharp points tore down his armor. He reversed his attack, spinning around and bringing his sword to bear on its other side. Its defense was non-existent, Josh’s change of attack so slick and quick. He had it or thought he had.

A bright light hatched, radiating from the caster. The ground shifted, tilting one way and then the other. His blade missed the creature’s side. He ground his teeth in frustration. But the caster’s magic caught them all by surprise, and his superior agility saw him react faster. Regaining his balance, he leaped inside them, decapitating one, punching another, then squaring up to the caster, pulling his sword around to skewer the fucker. The caster muttered something—a series of hisses chopped to differing lengths—and then it grinned, holding Josh’s sword inside it as its whole body lit up and exploded.

It flung him backward. He crashed into the tavern, flying straight through the wall and leaving a Josh-shaped hole. Skidding on his ass, he crashed through tables and upended cowering villagers. Screams erupted around him as the lizards got up, seemingly unaffected by the blast. Seizing the moment, Josh grabbed the first thing to hand and attacked. Leaping from the tavern, his battle cry gathered in his lungs.

“Misfits!” he cried, smashing the lead lizard with a lute.

It shattered on the creature’s head but did no damage, the beast rolling the blow and stabbing him with a knife. He took a leaf out of the caster’s book and held the blade in him, punching the bastard repeatedly and then chopping its arm, the satisfying crunch of snapping bone ringing in his ears.

He rounded on the next, pulling the knife from his side and waving it in the creature’s face. Talons sprung from its fists.

“Not you again,” he growled at it. It swiped with one bladed hand and then the other. Josh retreated one step at a time and assessed the situation. Three creatures still stood. Two were carrying slight blast injuries. The taloned one was fine, and the one he’d punched out looked like it might get up. The suicide caster had obviously run some prearranged play. The bastard things had blast resistance. Josh’s sword glinted in the sunlight, but his glance toward it must have telegraphed his intentions. Talon-fingers blocked his path but opened up one to the ruined lute.

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

The creature grinned, slobber gathering around its jowls as it prepared to attack. But it was the others he was more worried about. They edged around him and headed toward the tavern. Rage filled him—a gruesome anger that saw all reason leave him. He ran for Talon-fingers, taking its hit, tackling it to the ground, and then holding it down as it flailed his scale armor. Josh stabbed it in the face, taking its eyes and driving the steel blade through its jaws and into its brain. The fucker finally died.

Josh sprang up, racing to intercept the remaining lizards as they closed on the tavern. A whoosh sounded, an arrow speeding past him. It thumped into the lead lizard, entering its head and passing clean through. The lizard dropped like a stone. A thunderclap rang out, and a bad, bad feeling filled Josh’s mind. He dove, but way too late, a lightning bolt glancing off his back as it forked into the lizard cluster.

He thumped the ground as wild electricity coursed through his body. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuckity fuck!” He cursed, smashing the ground with his fist. He rolled to his feet, finally grabbing his sword and racing to the lizards. Two were gone, blasted to oblivion by Cassandra’s magic. One twitched and writhed, white magic still riddling its body. Josh reversed his sword and ran it through its mouth, pinning it to the mud.

“Don’t fuck with the Misfits,” he growled, then fell to his knees, bowing his head and patting his healing scalp. “Fuck it. I was just getting used to having long hair.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

JOSH and his ladies took a table in the tavern, sitting and accepting free food and drink. Despite saving them, the villagers were wary. Their elder had been the first to get fried by the red lizard, and no one appeared to want to take the lead, uncertain if Josh and his gang were just as dangerous. Vella had even healed any that needed it. Even so, the presence of an elf added to their discomfort. Darted glances and muttered whispers confirming that.

After the fight, they’d circled the wagons close to the tavern, hobbling the horses ready to spend the night. Just over half the village had survived. Some debated whether to up sticks and travel to the city, others whether to hide in the forest until the monster activity waned.

“Ain’t safe out here anymore. Not since the kingsmen were slaughtered,” one said.

Various stories circulated among the remaining villagers about Calico’s demise. One woman swore that the elves had slaughtered them, leaving Mythelore open to the monsters—“Killing us,” she said. “Bit by bit, those pointy-eared fuckers are killing us.” When Cassandra pinned her to a wall and sealed her mouth, she said no more, but Vella reversed the magic with a heal and simply said, “Didn’t.”

Another said he’d heard Thadius Extrael and a band of outlaws had killed Calico in a pitched battle, but that one didn’t get any traction.

“Extrael wouldn’t do that. Man saw us right on more than one occasion,” said another.

One thing was sure. No one would hear a word against the King’s monster hunter. Whatever had happened, he’d done nothing wrong.

“We drop it,” Josh had said. “We’ll not win any arguments here. They think what they think, and that’s that.”

So they’d told them a half-truth. They were a bunch of misfit monster slayers who’d learned their trade in the elven lands and were in Mythelore after work. The villagers had no money but insisted on feeding them as payment. Fortunately, the cozy tavern still stood.

“I think it looks cute,” said Cassandra.

Josh grumbled but had no comeback. “It’ll grow back. I can already feel stubble.”

Vella rubbed his bald scalp. “Renew!”

A tingling feeling pricked his skin. He reached, rubbing it and smiling. “See! Bristly.”

Arabella screwed her face up. “Well, I don’t like it. We need to get you a helmet—even a temporary one that’ll protect you while you evolve.”

Josh tucked into his pie. “Agreed. We’ll find an armorer at the next large town and commission some stuff for each of us.”

“Dad said to get in and out as fast as possible. He told us Calico’s demise would disrupt the kingdom.”

“Yes, he did say that, but he didn’t just have his head boiled by a lizard.” Josh’s perception skill flashed red. “Something’s coming,” he said, picking up the rest of his pie. “Wait here with Vella.” He stuffed it in his mouth.

The afternoon sun shone in his eyes as he stepped through the hole in the tavern. Twelve mounted knights crossed the bridge, the lead one jumping down and kicking at the corpses. He noticed Josh and pointed his sword at him. “You killed these?”

“Me and my team.”

“Then, sir, you saved us the bother and probably the rest of the village.” He snapped his visor up, sheathed his sword, then pulled his helmet off. “Dismount men. Toss all bodies on a pyre and burn them. Be quick about it if you want to get back tonight.” He faced Josh. “A name would set me at ease.”

“Likewise.”

“I am Sendor, son of Seymour, Lord of Eldorwyn.”

“Josh Underwood—not of the family Underwood, I might add.”

Sendor creased his brow. “You were at the Slaughter of Elrima? Word was sent of your part in that. But that truth hasn’t landed. Many say the King’s Slayer would never turn. Some say it was Extrael, others that Elrimans played their part.”

“None say it was me?” Josh asked.

“Most paint you a hero. Are you?”

“I played my part and destroyed the cultists. The rest? I know what I saw, but it doesn’t concern me. I learned long ago people will believe what suits them.”

Sendor cradled his jaw, rubbing at his cheeks. “Aye, folk do. I prefer a man who talks with his blade. You mentioned a party?”

“My harem. We fight together.”

“A novel idea,” he said, edging around to get a better view inside the tavern.

“One is an elf. Is that a problem?”

Sendor stiffened. “To some. The rumor is an elf killed Calico.”

“I can tell you that’s not true.”

“Perhaps you’d best tell my father.”

Josh smirked. “Unfortunately, my path does not extend to his castle. I seek a man in the capital.”

“Then the half-elf will swing.”

“The half-elf?”

“Someone has to account for it all.”

Josh froze. “What name?”

“Dec.”

Eldorwyn castle sat atop a hill. A city dripped from its gates, spilling down and then pooling along a large river, spreading on either side of its banks connected by a substantial stone bridge. It was impressive and daunting. Josh wasn’t sure what to make of it, nor was he overjoyed that he had to attend Seymour’s court, but he couldn’t let the Lord hang Dec either.

Sendor vouched for Vella’s safety, assigning two of his guards to protect them. Josh wasn’t sure they needed the protection and thought they were more likely there to keep an eye on him rather than anything else. He’d elected to display the carriages in all their glory, announcing The Misfits rather than try and skulk in and out of town. It was a spur-of-the-moment choice, one made upon seeing Eldorwyn. It was a sizeable enough city that three ordinary carriages might vanish without a trace. That would be infinitely harder if everyone had noticed them.

“You look stunning,” he said, sitting next to Cassandra.

“I’m a witch—everyone likes a sexy witch.” Her hat was slightly cocked, and her bodice strained to contain her ample breasts. Her thigh-high boots allowed only a flash of skin before her short skirt took over. “Are you sure this is going to work?”

He grunted. “We have the power to level this castle—to kill everyone in Seymour’s court. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. If it looks like it’s going to go south, don’t hold back. Like as not, they’ll take my sword.”

“You’ll still have your fists,” Cassandra pointed out. “And they’re worth a hell of a lot. Perhaps even more?”

“I got bugger-all from the last fight—just a point in Combat Instinct.”

She smacked her lips together. “If we were to level the castle, you might pick up a few more points.”

He grinned. “Only if it looks like it’s going wrong.”

Josh jumped from the cart, climbing upon Elowen’s and giving her a kiss. “I’ll tell you what I told Cass. If Sendor betrays us, we fight. You stick close to Arabella and Vella. Head straight for the wagons. You’ll be safe inside.”

“You think it will?”

“Dunno. It could go great. Let’s prepare for the worst, though.”

“We might be able to find out where Harrogate is.”

“Yep, but let’s keep him out of it until we know how the land lies.”

“Got it.”

Josh raced back to the lead cart. “All set,” he said to Arabella and Vella. He pulled up his menu and flipped the cart’s external appearance to normal—which was far from ordinary.

Sendor’s guards gasped, one drawing aside Josh. “Magic?” he asked.

“The other was magic. This is what they’re really like.”

“Seymour will want one,” the guard said.

“Then he can purchase one. The details are on the plaque,” Arabella said.

The guard inclined his head but said nothing.

“Not sure that was what he meant,” Josh said.

“No. Not,” Vella added.

Crowds gathered as they crossed the bridge and climbed the hill to the castle, the clustered dwellings hugging the road, the mob spilling onto the road—peasants reaching, trying to touch the monster hunters.

“See,” Josh said. “It’s working.” He breathed a little easier, knowing that their safety lay in fame—that if the people saw them as salvation, they’d only have to watch anyone trying to steal their thunder.

As they closed on the castle, the dwellings became more affluent until they towered over the carriages. The castle loomed, its substantial wall rising, guards looking over, movements behind the archer slits as the gates swung open. They entered the castle’s courtyard, several lads streaming from the stables, taking their horses and leading them in.

Cassandra dismounted, her voice carrying throughout the drab place. “The wagons are charmed. Try and enter, and your heads will melt and drip all over your boots.” She grabbed a stable boy, turning his head. “You understand?”

Seymour sat upon an oversized chair raised on a stone platform. His curly blond hair flowed over bright blue robes, his beard the color of wax pouring from his chin to rest on his substantial belly. He had a lazy look about him, like the day’s proceedings bored him. Josh waited, flanked by his ladies.

“They killed six lizard men, including a burner and a shaman. As far as I can tell, they took no casualties.”

An elderly man stood next to the Lord. He glared at Cassandra. “This witch, no doubt.”

“This witch,” Cassandra said. “The one that could fry your old, shriveled balls with the snap of her fingers.”

“That is no way to talk to a Wizard of the Source!” he shouted. “I will have your magic stripped from you!”

Cassandra’s staff appeared in her hand, growing to its full length, the Everdeep jewel glowing atop it. “Wanna play, old man? Choose your magic, and I’ll match it.”

The wizard growled. “If my Lord commands me to fight, I’ll not hesitate to cleave you in two.”

Cassandra’s laughter rang through the hall. “Darling, you couldn’t even tickle me.”

Sendor cleared his throat. “There was evidence of pyromancy, my esteemed wizard—ranged pyromancy and from quite some distance. You might want to hold your tongue. It has been an age since magic erupted from your staff.”

“Probably been a while since anything dripped from his staff,” Cassandra said.

“What about the others,” Seymour said, waving his hand dismissively.

“This is Josh Underwood. You’d recall him from the tales of the Elrima debacle.”

The mention of Elrima perked Seymour. “The Underwoods?”

“Apparently not. He says he has no relation to those Underwoods,” Sendor said. “He claims the elf didn’t kill Calico and wasn’t responsible for the uprising.”

“Does it matter? An elf swings, and everyone, including the King, is happy.”

“Calico was part of the uprising,” Josh said. “He was in league with a man named Hardacre. They both planned the return of an evil sorcerer called Maechellion. Dec helped foil the whole plot. I’ll not let him swing, not while I have breath in me.”

Seymour yawned. “Humor me. How will you do that?”

“The same way we killed six lizards.” Josh burst forward, ripping his knife from his boot, grabbing Seymour’s head and lifting it, resting the blade on his neck. “Anyone doubt me?”

Cassandra thrust her hand forward, trapping the wizard in swirling wind and lifting him off his feet, then drawing him into the center of the room before pinning him against the lofty ceiling.

“Been practicing your aeromancy?” Josh asked.

“Every day,” Cassandra said.

“Drop him,” said another voice.

Josh swiveled and faced the man. “Who are you?”

He was a tall man, power oozing from him, but he wasn’t well built. The power came from his eyes, penetrating Josh and tearing him open with their inquiry.

“My name is Candour, and I am who I want to be. I head up the magical resistance arm of the King’s new Monster Hunting Brigade. Did I hear correctly, Sendor, that this—witch—displayed pyromancy?”

“In my opinion. Several creatures had burn holes right through them, and the ground was charred and scarred.”

“Not from the Burner lizard?”

“No.”

“Drop him,” Candour ordered.

Cassandra began to lower him.

“No, I said drop him. Don’t worry, I’ll reach out with my magic and catch him.”

Cassandra shrugged. “No skin off my nose.” She pulled her magic back in, and the wizard dropped like a stone, smashing into the flagstone floor with a sickening crunch.

“I thought you said you’d catch him,” Cassandra yelled.

“I lied,” the man said. “Come, we have much to discuss.” He looked over at Josh. “You can slide your blade across his throat if you like. I think his son would make a more effective Lord anyway.”

“Don’t!” Sendor cried.

Josh flipped his knife back in his boot. “No. I’ll not kill a man in cold blood.”

“Fine,” said Candour. “I’ll do it.” He flicked his hand out, and an ice spear shot across the room, pinning Seymour to his chair.

Sendor cried out, advancing on the Candour and drawing his sword.

“Don’t!” Candour said, his hand shooting out. Sendor froze. “Both men were complicit in Elrima’s uprising. Be thankful I don’t agree that the sins of the father stain the children, or else you’d be dead too. Now, your first task, Lord Sendor, is to free the half-elf and have him sent to my chambers.”

Sendor hesitated but then nodded. “You have proof of this? You have proof my father did this?”

“Oh, yes. I have proof. I have one of them in my custody now. He’s singing like a bird—a bird in a lot of pain. So, prepare a feast and then gather your court this evening. You, Lord Sendor, will announce yourself.” He handed Sendor a list. “These are the names you will call up to receive your promotions. Do not call any others. Do not leave any out. Oh, and clear all this mess up. I find stale blood and vacuated bowels ruin my appetite.”

Chapter Thirty

CANDOUR SAT. His chambers were on the castle’s third floor, overlooking the approach. He warmed his hands on a roaring fire. “I saw you coming. I’ll admit, I was intrigued. Whispers are circulating around the Elven Lands and certain southern provinces of Mythelore. They focus on a witch, mostly, that might or might not be a harmonic.” He paused, glancing at Cassandra. “Whether you are or not is not the point. You’re a dualist at the very least, which elevates you above nearly every magic dealer in the land, myself included.”

“Thanks?” Cassandra said.

“Oh,” said Josh noncommittally. He sat by the fire, stretching his legs and arms to feign relaxation, but was hopelessly on edge.

Candour observed him. “You can say what you wish. I have shrouded us in a charm. Nothing will get out, not even if they have someone listening at the walls.”

“What do you want with us?” he asked, getting straight to the point.

“Want? I want to understand how you will fit into my plans. Make no mistake, you will fit into my plans somehow.”

“Well, you know Cassandra’s a witch, or she likes to think she’s a witch, but we are leaning toward sorceress. You must know or suspect that I’m a competent fighter. I’m sure you are aware of Elowen and Arabella so that leaves Vella, who stands out like a sore thumb.”

“Very astute.”

“So, getting back to Cassandra. Are you interested in the witch or the sorceress?”

“The term doesn’t matter. Her power is all that does. How many branches?”

Josh nodded to Cassandra. He saw no reason to conceal something he had a feeling the man already knew.

“Three,” she said.

“Which ones?”

“Geomancy, Pyromancy and Naturalism.”

“Four. You forget Aeromancy,” Candour said. “You used it to pin the old wizard to the ceiling.”

“I’m learning that. I know the others.”

Candour smacked his lips together. “That much, I doubt. Fine. Let me let you into a little secret. No matter how powerful, five people like you will not live out their lives to see grandchildren without help. You might not live the day—this place is full of those trying to further their own aims, including me. I am your one and only chance. Either you take it, or you don’t.”

“I’m stronger than you think,” Josh said.

“That, I doubt. You need me if you’re to stay in Mythelore.”

“And if we don’t want you?”

“I’m a patient man, Mr. Underwood. I’ll await my next opportunity.”

“There will never be another party like us.”

“Perhaps. How did you kill six lizard men?”

“Took out the pyromancer first. Removed the shaman after. Then Cassandra mopped up the mob.”

“You took out the shaman and the pyromancer?”

“It’s how I lost my hair.”

Candour flicked him a smile. “Could you take out a nest? Our scouts report up to twenty of them.”

“Given the right stuff,” Josh said.

Candour rose. He walked to a table, pouring some wine. “The list of names I’ve given Sendor. Each of them is a cultist. Some escaped the forest temple, where I believe they tried to eliminate a few of you. They whisper about this short-haired man who could take a knife to the gut and fight on. Others in the lineup pulled the strings, financing Calico Rayne. Did you know he was from these parts?”

“No.”

“This plot—this bid to renew the war between the elves and men—cannot fester. There are negotiations ongoing.” He turned his eye on Vella. “Of course, you have a vested interest in ensuring relations between those two nations improve. She is a delight.”

“What do you want us to do?” Josh asked.

The door opened, and Dec stumbled in. The half-elf was naked, barring a pair of ragged trousers. Whip marks striped his back. Red-raw flesh, bubbling with puss, circled his wrists and ankles. He fell, trying to get up, making it to his knees, then crashing to the floor.

“Heal,” said Vella. “Renew, heal, renew, heal.”

“So, a healer. Your party is balanced,” said Candour. He stood over Dec. “I heard elven healers were good.” He reached and picked up his hand. “But this is remarkable.”

“Who did this to him?”

“This? One of the men Sendor will be rewarding this evening. Trust me, he took great delight in the work. He enjoys it. It gives him a sense of power over men and women that would otherwise elude him.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“They are all bad men.” He raised his hands. “But then, we all are in our own way.”

“So, what do you want me to do?”

“You? I want you to kill them. You!” he said, pointing at Josh. “Just you. Not the witch, the elf or the archaeologist, and certainly not Thadius Extrael’s daughter or adopted daughter.” He approached the door. “I would suggest you wash and take a few hours off. You’re making the air a little fruity. Leave Dec with me. I want a little chat with him. After all, he’s been working with me for several years. It’s about time we met.”

Much to everyone’s surprise, they elected to stay in the Master Carriage. Josh didn’t like the room Sendor offered, assuming that if Candour used a charm to maintain privacy, they couldn’t trust anyone either. Cassandra conjured a bath, and they all took turns in washing. Under normal circumstances, and with it being the first time they’d all been together in the carriage, it should have descended into quite the pleasant fivesome, but sex was the last thing on his mind. With five naked beauties around him, it wasn’t his dick’s preference. That part of him was interested, which wasn’t surprising.

“Do we trust him?” Josh asked the question on everyone’s mind.

“We need a friend here,” said Arabella. “Look what happened in Elrima. Smeeks turned out to be the good guy. Calico, supposedly on our side, was the bad guy. Multiply that by a hundred, and you have where we are now. I’d love to know who he’s torturing to get his information.”

“He did say he was torturing someone. But I don’t think it was Dec.”

“No, he rescued Dec. That’s good enough for me,” Josh said. “That tells me he’s on our side, and if he’s working with the elves, then he’s our man.”

“Did you see how many people are on the list?”

“I won’t say I don’t care, but if it’s them or us, you better believe I’m taking them out.” Josh paced the width of the carriage. “Who can Candour be? He’s powerful enough to kill a lord in his own castle. Therefore, he must be so powerful that Seymour couldn’t deny him entrance.”

“He must work for the King,” Arabella said.

“But in what capacity?” Elowen asked. “He could be the head of the wizards, but they wouldn’t normally have much to do with political stability. He seems to be head of some secret sect—”

“Please don’t use sect. It sounds too much like a cult,” Josh said, pulling his pants on. “He’s rooting out the cultists ready to announce cordial relations with the elves—that’s my take on it. After how they tried to kill you, Arabella and Thadius, that puts me firmly on his side. If we’re going to have more and more monsters breaking through this veil that separates us, we need to act together.”

“We’re supposed to be looking for Harrogate Delaney,” Cassandra said. “Now we’re getting involved in the land’s security.”

“He mentioned a lizard nest. If there’s one here, then there’s a chance one will spring up near Endover. Do we want these things everywhere? They’re way more dangerous than the boars and harpies. They were purposely hunting humans.” Josh thumped the wagon’s wall. “This is what we made the Misfits for. This is our territory. Elowen, grab some paper. While we’re thinking, let’s make some notes about the lizardmen.”

Elowen sat at the desk. “Ready. Okay, me first as I was watching. Six to seven feet high. Reptiles with arms and legs like humans. They have small tails and crests running from their heads right down their backs. Slightly drawn-out faces with noses coming to a point.” She scribbled away. “Who’s next? Josh was closest.”

“The red-skinned one was a pyromancer. I think we can assume the coloration wasn’t random. The shaman had a staff, I think? Not sure. He was a different color from the others, but I’m not sure what. I got to him fast, and the battle was furious. He took a hit, too—a sword right in the gut, so he’s got some durability. Most ranged casters don’t have much because they don’t need it.”

“The caster was green—almost emerald,” said Arabella. “He had a staff, so we have to assume it vanished when he died because I looked around the bodies and didn’t see it.”

“They formed a protective pocket around the caster,” Cassandra said. “If he was so tough, why do that?”

“He fought with a sword in his gut,” Josh said. “He has to be tough.”

“No pain,” said Vella. “Felt no pain. That’s how.”

Josh rolled his eyes. “Of course. I know that. Reptiles are cold-blooded. That’s why he first fought on despite having my sword in its throat.”

“So,” Elowen said. “They formed a wall around the caster because he’s fragile, but we don’t know the best way to kill him.”

“They died pretty quickly when I blasted a hole in them,” Cassandra said.

“And my arrow took one straight out,” Arabella said.

“And a knife to the face took one out,” Josh added.

Elowen looked up. “Am I writing heads are the weak spot?”

They looked at each other, nodding. “I think so,” said Josh.

“Agreed,” said Cassandra.

“Okay, next question,” Elowen said. “Assuming that they crowd the caster to protect him-slash-her, then we have three types of lizard: common lizard, pyromancer and caster. We’re saying pyromancer, but we mean fire-breathing. Would dragon-like be better?”

“Better,” Josh said.

Elowen scrubbed out Pyromancer and wrote dragon-like. “We had red, green and gray lizards. The gray is the foot soldier. The red is the dragon-like, and the green is the caster. Okay, assuming we want to take out a nest, how do we attack?”

“The common lizard will always outnumber the specialist units,” Josh said. “But we need to take out the damage dealers first. I say that Bells targets the caster while Cassandra takes out the dragonlike. To give you both the best chance of a clean strike, I go in and draw the common lizard out. Once the specialists are out of the picture, you two switch focus to the common lizards.”

“And if it’s a nest? If there’s twenty, thirty of them, can you handle fifteen or twenty of the common ones?”

He picked up his sword. “With a bigger one of these,” he said. “I’ve outgrown this one. It’s like fighting with a toothpick now, given my strength. And I’ll need a shield—a big-ass shield with points sticking out to deal more damage.”

“And a helmet, grieves, gauntlets and bracers,” Arabella said.

“Yeah, don’t forget, I’m only two points away from my next evolution. I’ll get one of them.”

“What’s to stop us from commissioning one here?” Cassandra said. “They must have a blacksmith.”

A crowd followed them, trailing nervously in their wake. Cassandra led, and she looked stunning. Her years of hiding behind the outspoken, outlandish witch persona she’d perfected proved invaluable at scaring away any inquiry. Vella stuck close to Josh. He met any sneer or slur with a tug of his sword, just the threat of unsheathing it enough to shut them up and see them fading into the background.

The blacksmith looked up from his forge, glancing at them, then returning his focus onto a thin strip of red-hot metal, hammering it gently.

“Most think smithing is all bang-bang-bang. They see you smashing huge lumps of molten metal against a cold anvil, flattening it, shaping it, and then the finished article pops out of a bucket of water in seconds. But it’s the detail that makes the difference—things like this.” He looked them up and down. “Whatever you want, I can’t make it that quick.”

“How do you know we want it quickly?” said Josh.

“Because you aren’t from round here. Therefore, you’re passing through. Therefore, you want it quick.”

“Yep, you’re right, but not for the correct reasons. True, we’re from out of town. Yes, we’re passing through. We need it quickly, but only because of what we must do.”

He sighed. “Go on, tell me.”

“Sendor will ask us to kill a nest of lizardmen tonight. I will accept, which is why I need what I need.”

“Okay, humor me a little more. What was it you want?”

Josh grinned. “Imagine a sword—a bloody great sword, so big that it would be impossible for any but the strongest warrior to wield. Then times it by two, and that is the sword I want.”

The smith made to say something, but Josh held his hand up. “Then, imagine a shield. Cassandra, stand there for me, please. Thank you. Right, this is the shape.” He traced a heart shape around her breasts, then reached a point at her ankles. “Except wider—think of her as a buxom woman. I want two sharp points on the breasts and the pointed tip as sharp as my sword.”

The smith grinned, his teeth nearly as black as his soot-stained face. “You couldn’t lift a sword like that.”

Josh strolled over to his anvil, picked it up and then transferred it to one hand, lifting it up and down like he was training. He set it back down. “That’s as good a weight as any.”

“It’s a crying shame,” said the blacksmith.

“What is?”

“Well, to make a sword like that would take a month and three days. The shield, I could have that done in a day. I’d work through the night if it’d help. Not a fan of monsters—killed a few folks I know.”

“I’ll take the shield.” Josh stepped back. “Shame about the sword.”

“How do you know?” Arabella asked.

“Know what?”

“How do you know it would take one month and three days to make that sword?”

He pointed at her. “Very perceptive. I know, young lady, because I made one once. Seymour brought it. It’s hanging in his armory. I think he commissioned it to impress a woman.” He rested his foot on the anvil. “If you can persuade Sendor to hand it over, I’ll modify the grip for you. Shield will be… Shall we say one silver for the materials, a couple for the labor?”

Elowen handed over the coins. “Get it done, and we’ll make sure there’s a drink on top.”

“Sendor’s armory,” Arabella said. “It wouldn’t have a decent helmet, would it? I don’t want all his hair burned off again.”

“It’s growing back!” Josh protested.

“Renew!” Vella said, then did the same to the blacksmith.

He pushed his back in. “Nope, still hurts.”

“Heal!” she said.

He grinned. “Now that’s better,” he said. “He has armor, yes. Seymour had a whole set. Never saw him wear it, though. Get the sword, and I’ll make it right.” The blacksmith pulled out a sheet of iron. “This thick enough? Like to have some rolled and ready.”

“I’ll get you that sword,” Josh said.

It hung like some monument to an age where giants roamed the land. As soon as Josh entered the armory, it drew his gaze, gleaming and glinting in the torchlight. It was four feet long and around eight to ten inches wide, shaped more like a machete than a sword.

“You want that monstrosity?” Sendor said. “I hated it—always hated it. I thought my father only got it made to make up for his small dick.”

Cassandra laughed, draping herself over Josh. “That’s not why he wants it, darling. It’s to match his dick, not to make up for it.”

“How much?” Elowen asked.

“To buy it? I’ll be glad to get rid of it. Had my father’s demise not been so raw, I’d have taken it down and had it melted to ingots.”

“So, how much for the ingots?” Elowen pressed.

“We’ll come to some arrangement. Look, I don’t know what my father was tied up in, which reflects poorly on me, but you showed him some mercy, and I thank you for that.”

“Candour showed you no such quarter,” Arabella said.

“He wouldn’t. He is the King’s Justice. His word is law. His judgment is final. If he decided my father was a cultist, he was dead from that moment on.”

Josh reached up, taking the great sword down. He cradled it in both hands, then held it by the grip. “A two-handed weapon,” he muttered.

“No man could wield it with one,” Sendor said.

Josh transferred it to one hand, holding it. “No balance,” he muttered, having got used to Thadius’ sword. “Perhaps that’s what the smith meant when he said he’d adjust the grip.”

“Just how strong are you?” Sendor said.

“I do just fine, and I feel that after a few trial sessions with this, I’ll be strong enough. Can you get it taken to the smith tonight?”

Sendor stared at him. “Who are you, Josh Underwood?”

“I’m a Misfit. That is all.”

“We all are,” said Elowen.

“Me too,” said Vella.

“We need a helmet, gauntlet, and boots. Candour wants us to go after their nest. That’s the price.” Arabella paused. “Along with that,” she added.

“I’ll agree to all, for nothing, if we can have another discussion,” said Sendor.

“What about?”

“I need my own monster-hunters.”

Josh shook his head. “No can do at the moment. We’re aligned with the elves, but you'll be the first to know as soon as we spread our network.”

Sendor made to leave. “I can’t say I’m happy you’re choosing them over us.” He glanced nervously at Vella.

“They took me in after Elrima.”

“I get it. Just consider us.”

“We’ll get something put in place so you can contact us if you get a problem.”

“They’ll do better than that,” Candour said, entering. “There will be a solution, Sendor. But for now, you will do as I say or suffer the same fate as your father. You have my list. Prepare for tonight’s feast. Josh, you need these items to carry out my wishes?”

“To kill the lizards.”

“The other?”

“That will be no issue.”

He raised his eyebrows. “There’s fifteen of them.”

“No issue.”

“Then take what you need. The lizards are a test. Pass it, and we'll discuss more.”

“More?”

“The King’s monster slayer is dead. What do you think we’re going to discuss?”

“We have a price,” said Arabella.

“Everything has a price.”

“We have a price to open negotiations, not conclude them,” Arabella said.

“Harrogate Delaney,” Vella said. “Want him.”

Candour’s eyes flashed with mischief. “Then it’s good news for me that I know where he is, isn’t it?”

Josh looked along the weapons rack, coming to an odd-looking weapon that resembled a long dagger but was more of a thin spike of shining steel.

“I’ll take this.”

Candour scrunched his face up. “A misericorde. A nice choice, Mr. Underwood.”

Chapter Thirty-One

JOSH HELD THE MISERICORDE UP, practicing stabbing with it, trying to understand its weight and feel. The knife served one purpose, which was to kill using piercing damage. It was ideal. He would kill as many as he could with it, then move on to his trusted knife. He sat back on their little sofa, looking at the girls, their concerned faces filling his vision. They were right to be worried. The thought of killing so many men sickened him.

“Looks like it will snap if it meets any resistance,” Cassandra said, sitting on the large bed that took up most of the carriage’s back. “You could run along the table with your new sword and hack their heads off.” She was too chirpy about it all, but then she had a slightly unhinged side.

“Trust me. It’s perfect for assassinating a bunch of important folk without rousing suspicion. I’m unsure if I’m turning into a cold-blooded killer or if it’s my combat instinct kicking in, but I’ve thought this through, and some will escape in a straight fight.”

Arabella placed her arm on his. “Are you sure you want to do this? You’re killing defenseless men.”

“They’d see Vella dead. They’d kill every elf if they could. By getting rid of them, I could save countless lives. One tortured Dec—don’t forget that.” He pondered her words. “They aren’t defenseless. They kill without getting their hands dirty.”

“I wonder how Dec is,” Elowen said.

“He’s under Candour’s protection. We get this done, and Sendor’s power is consolidated. Once that’s sorted, Dec can return to Elrima if he wants.” Josh set the misericorde down.

Vella jumped on the sofa, draping her arms around him and kissing his cheek. “Kill elfhaters.”

“I thought you were the pacifist amongst us.”

“Am. Don’t want war. Kill elfhaters. No war.”

“There,” said Cassandra, “it’s that easy. You’re in the clear.”

“Nothing’s straightforward here,” Josh said. “Endover is far less complicated.”

“Same,” said Vella. “Don’t trust you yet. Once they trust you, they’ll try and drag you in.”

He picked up the misericorde again. “Cassandra, I need its shine dulled—as close to stone gray as you can get. Can your ferrumurge do that?”

“Darling, I can change it so you can’t even see it if you want.”

“That would be handy and handy to know a little while ago. Can you do my dagger, too?”

“I can. It’s only a spell, so its effect is temporary. You want your belt done? I could put an invisibility charm on that. Then you’re all set.”

“Like I said, that would be fantastic and nice to have known before.”

“Perhaps I couldn’t do it before. Did you think of that?”

“You just learned it?” Josh asked.

“No! I learned that ages ago. An excellent trick for fucking about with people. Making someone’s ale vanish is a fantastic way to start a fight.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

Josh leaned back against the wall, watching as the hall filled. His scalp itched. Vella had decided that she hated his bald head and had focused on making his hair grow. Whether the ring’s bots had caught onto the need or not, he couldn’t tell, but his scalp felt odd. It was like a load of tiny seamstresses wove hair inside his skull and forced it through his skin. But he was happy to endure the mild discomfort. He had some hair—the equivalent of a crewcut, but it was thick enough to stop his head shining.

“I take it you’re ready?” Candour asked, pausing as he passed.

“I’ll be ready.”

“Sendor will call them up to the raised table. They will sit either side of him waiting for our new Lord to announce their baronies, and rightly proud they’ll be. They’ll assume Seymour’s boy is a cultist and rejoice that they’ll have complete control. It’s a great night for them. The slaughtering of the elves will be high on the agenda tomorrow morning.”

“You don’t have to motivate me more.”

Candour glanced across the trestle tables. “None of your lovely wives here to look out for you?”

“You said just me, so it’s just me. You hold all the cards in here. I hold them outside of this castle. Remember that.”

“I’ll decide who holds what in Mythelore. You’ll hold what I want you to hold, depending on your performance tonight. But you have my word on one thing. If it all goes wrong and you die, I’ll ensure your wives return to Endover safely.”

Josh nodded. “I thank you for that.”

Candour moved on, climbing the few steps up to the platform and sitting on the table’s end. Sendor cut a lonely figure in its center. He was white—as white as a sheet. The new lord knew something was coming but had no idea what. Candour slid Sendour another sheet. The Lord picked it up, reading it with shaking hands.

Josh edged along the wall. Coming to a door, he slipped through, removing his clothes and calling for his stealth gear. He fastened his belt in place, checked the misericorde and dagger, then stepped back out.

The hall had filled, folks crammed on every table. Josh walked forward, climbing the steps and creeping to the table’s center. No one remarked on his passing. No one noticed him at all. He held up his hand, and though he knew it was there, he couldn’t see it.

Sendor stood. “Bayliss of Engot!” he shouted.

A wiry individual with a handkerchief covering his mouth walked up the central aisle. Sweat dampened his forehead. He was a slimy one. There was no doubting that. The man sat next to Sendor as the new lord announced the next new baron.

Josh remained still, waiting until Sendor had called all but one baron. Once the man walked up to take the final seat, he moved to the furthest baron. When the man set down his drink, Josh clasped his hand over his mouth, forcing the misericorde through the chair’s canvas and into the man’s heart. He waited for the man to sag, held him in place momentarily, and then moved on to the next.

After the fourth, he had to wait while his next victim stopped chatting. The bubbly baron finished his joke and turned to the baron Josh had just killed, a look of horror on his face. Josh clamped the man’s mouth, forced the blade into him, and attacked the next. A woman screamed as one of the barons fell face forward onto the table. Josh killed the next baron, slid around Sendor, and started on the rest.

Midway along, someone shouted, “Assassin!” Josh ditched the misericorde and pulled his dagger, slitting throat after throat, pulling them back as they tried to escape. Screams erupted all across the hall—guards streaming in. Josh tossed a lord out of the way to see Candour blocking the way of the last baron.

“No, Flint. You don’t escape. You tortured my man. I don’t let that go unpunished.”

Josh grabbed the man’s hair, jerked his head back and slit his throat, letting him fall to the ground.

“There,” he said. “I take it I passed.”

Candour stepped aside. “If that’s truly you, Josh. I am stunned. Yes, you passed.”

Sendor cleared his throat as Candour retook his seat.

“Quiet!” the new lord shouted and picked up Candour’s note, reading from it. “Each of those men was directly involved in the uprising at Elrima. Whether funding it or arranging it, they were all guilty of treason—as was my father. Take note, all of you. The king’s justice is everywhere. Like these men, you might not see it coming, but it will get you. Here in Eldorwyn, we do not tolerate cultists. We are loyal to the King.”

Josh dressed, calling for his light armor just in case. He slipped out of the hall, wanting to get away. Needing a bath. Needing to be with his wives.

Josh relaxed, absorbing the bath's warmth and letting it flow into his muscles. He wanted to open his eyes and soak in the beauty surrounding him, but he needed to look inside himself and ensure he was still there. He'd been through a lot since landing on Mythelore. Had he lost himself? What had changed that he could murder so many so easily?

"Is everything alright?" Arabella's soft voice brushed the edges of his consciousness.

"Yeah." He draped his arms over the bath's rim, then slid under, letting the hot water envelop him. He rested there for a moment, gathering and pushing his introspection away. He had his reasons, and the men he killed, well, they wouldn't hesitate to kill him and his girls, so they had to die. The land had a code that governed all relationships. Josh had one, too.

Fuck with me, and you die.

He surfaced with a gasp, opening his eyes and soaking in the four faces looking at him.

"It's okay," he said.

"You sure?" Elowen reached, resting her hand on his arm.

"It's where we are. I must forget about my past morals—they're no good to me now—one of those men tortured Dec, and others financed the operation that would have seen two of you burned alive. That's justification enough."

"But you look so upset," Arabella said.

He smiled. "Not upset, no. But I do need a code to live by. I can't let my morals fall away completely. Your father said there was a chance I'd become a monster. I can't cross that line."

Cassandra laughed. "Aren't you adorable? The code is simple. We are family. What is good for our family is acceptable."

"What isn't is our enemy," Elowen said.

"As long as we are good in our hearts, our judgments will be sound," Arabella added.

"Those men bad," Vella said. "Men not good for our family."

"Yes, Vella," he said. "Men not good for our family. They fuck with us, they die."

Yes, the code fits.

"But I know one thing that is good for our family.” Cassandra pulled her top off and stepped out of her skirt. "And that's a clean Josh. Stand up. I'm going to scrub you raw."

"Oh, harem bath time!" Elowen squealed with delight. "I'm in." She pulled her pants down and unlaced her shirt.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea!" Arabella stripped.

"Me too," said Vella, taking off what little she had on. She stepped into the bath, pulling him up and pressing against him before lifting her head and puckering. “One family.”

“One family,” he said and met her lips.

“Oh no you don’t,” said Arabella. “We get him clean first, and then we have our fun.”

Elowen reached down, cupping the bath water and launching it over Arabella. “Don’t be such a spoilsport!”

“Why, you!” Arabella ran around the bath, grabbing Elowen and wrestling toward the water.

Josh jumped out of the bath, pulling Vella with him, as Arabella and Elowen tumbled into the tub, splashing water all over Cassandra.

“Right!” the witch said, muttering some incantation. Cold water rained down on Elowen and Arabella as they wrestled. Both screamed as the freezing water splashed over their naked bodies. Vella slipped around the back of Cassandra and pushed her in. Arabella grabbed the witch and spun her around, dumping her under the bathwater.

Cassandra gasped as she surfaced, but Elowen dunked her back under the water. Josh tried to give the witch a hand, but Vella shoved him too. He overbalanced, then slipped on the wet floor and crashed into Elowen, who fell backward onto Cassandra.

“Stop!” cried Arabella. “We’re supposed to be getting Josh clean!”

Cassandra muttered a few more words, freezing water spouting from her outstretched hands and splashing all over Arabella’s breasts.

“No fair!” Arabella screamed, grabbing Cassandra’s hair and dunking her under the water for a third time.

“Girls! Girls! Girls!” Josh shouted, curiously aroused by the four fighting women. “Can’t we all be friends?”

“Friends,” Vella said.

Cassandra calmed. “I notice the elf played a lot of different sides.”

“I saw that too,” said Elowen.

“And me,” Arabella said.

Vella squealed as Elowen tried to grab her, narrowly avoiding her grasp. She raced to the other side of the table, holding position, panting, her eyes wide with excitement. “Won’t catch me,” she said.

“I think you’re underestimating us,” Arabella said. “Elowen, you go that way. Cassandra, stand guard over the table.”

They all moved toward the elf. She held the table, giggling, feinting one way and then the other. Elowen closed from one side. Arabella closed from the other while Cassandra blocked the middle.

“Cassandra, make the bathwater go cold,” Elowen said, an evil glint in her eyes.

“No!” Vella squealed.

They moved forward. Vella let out a yelp, made to jump over the top and then vanished under the table as Arabella and Elowen tried to grab her. She slipped between Cassandra’s legs and raced to the bed, jumping on it and grabbing a pillow.

Josh assessed the situation as the three girls closed. “Three against one is unfair. How about I even it up a bit?”

“Help!” cried Vella. She cut a feisty figure, holding the pillow defiantly, glaring at the three girls as they stalked toward her.

Josh jumped onto the bed, grabbing a pillow. “Come on then. Let’s see what you’ve got, and no magic, Cassandra. That’s banned.”

“Who’s the spoilsport now,” she said, her bottom lip out.

“Charge!” Elowen screamed, running for the bed, diving and tackling Vella.

The elf went down, pounding Elowen with the pillow.

“Charge!” Arabella screamed, diving at Josh.

“Charge!” Cassandra dove for Josh as well, Arabella taking his legs, Cassandra body slamming him.

Josh battered Cassandra with his pillow, feathers flying everywhere. He crashed onto the bed, right next to a giggling Vella and Elowen as they wrestled each other. Their giggles turned to wet kisses, and Cassandra swooped on Josh, locking her lips on his and forcing her tongue straight into his mouth.

Arabella shimmied up his legs. “I win. I got the prize,” she said and put his fattening cock straight into her mouth, moving his knob around, teasing him to instant hardness. “Now, this is more like it.”

Cassandra shifted around, diving down, licking Josh’s stomach, then along the line of his pubic hair. “Fancy sharing?” she asked Arabella.

“Always,” she said. “After all, that’s what families are for.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

JOSH HELD the sword in both hands, testing its balance.

“Sure, it’s not too heavy?” the smith said. “That’s some kind of pommel I had to put on it to balance the blade.”

“Not going to lie,” said Josh. “It’s heavy. Perhaps a bit too heavy for me at the moment.” He tried it with one hand. “I can swing it fine.”

“Woah! You nearly took my head off!” said the smith.

Cassandra stepped back quickly, moving the Everdeep staff out of the way and checking her cloak for tears. “That is so awesome!”

“I think practice is needed,” Arabella said.

Josh laughed. “Yeah, it’s going to take some getting used to. Luckily, I have a day or so to bulk up my arms. No pain—no gain.”

“I want to see this!” the smith said.

“We can practice in the castle garden. Sendor has agreed to let us have some privacy,” said Elowen. “I was originally thinking formations and stuff like that, but we could set up some dummies and have you attack them.”

“You aren’t using Arabella for target practice,” Cassandra said.

“Hey! Who are you calling a dummy? I’ll challenge you to naked wrestling again. I’d beat you hands down,” Arabella shouted.

“Darling, I’d have you on the floor instantly!”

“My money’s on Arabella,” said Vella.

“See!” said Arabella.

“Did you say naked wrestling?” asked the smith.

“Why?”

The smith blushed. “Nothing.”

“Can we get back to my practice?” Josh asked.

“Yeah, but I’m your official armorer, so I get to watch.” The smith shuffled off to the back of his forge.

“He is talking about the swordplay, isn’t he?” Elowen asked.

“I hope so, for his sake,” said Cassandra.

The smith coughed and then cleared his throat. “Let’s move on. Here’s the shield. Now, it’s raw at the moment. Bandy John can paint it up for you, or we can stretch some leather over it—your call. The paint’ll get beaten up pretty quickly, and leather will tear, but there’s nothing you can do about that. Got the two spikes you wanted.”

“That’s perfect,” said Josh.

“They look like a pair of tits.” Cassandra reached out and pricked her finger. “Sharp nipples.”

“You can’t go into battle with that!” Arabella said.

Josh frowned. “Look, it’s perfect. See this dip here between the two mounds?”

Cassandra leaned in. “The cleavage?”

“No, it’s not a bloody—” He composed. “Okay, let’s call it the cleavage. Perfect for resting your pike in and jabbing the enemy.”

“Show me,” Cassandra said, smirking.

Josh made the movements, then stopped abruptly as the four girls fell about laughing.

“He’s tit-fucking his shield,” said Cassandra.

“Funny, funny, I get it.” Josh rolled his eyes. “This bit down here—”

“The pussy.”

He held his tongue. “Very well,” he eventually said. “The pussy.” He took a breath. “The pussy is razor-sharp, so I can bang it on the monster’s feet—”

Arabella pointed at him, holding her side, and shaking her head. “Don’t! Just stop!”

Cassandra howled. Elowen turned away, hugging Vella, their shoulders shaking while the smith went out the back, his laughter ringing out.

Josh held the shield up. “I’ll admit it wasn’t my brightest idea, but it’s highly functional, and it will be great for battle.”

The smith came back in, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I put a cap on the…pussy until you get used to it, or it will have your toes off if you’re not careful.”

Cassandra fell, banging her fist on the ground.

Josh grunted, took the shield, and slipped his arm through its straps. He hefted the sword up. His shoulder and bicep hurt like hell just from holding it one-handed.

“All joking aside, this is going to boost my strength.”

Cassandra stood, brushing herself down. “Yes.” She took a long breath. “It will.”

“It will,” said Arabella, and Elowen and Vella repeated it.

“Oh,” said the smith, fully recovered, “and I made this for you.” He held up a large leather sheath with two straps that reminded him of a rucksack. “Now, bear with me. This sword, it ain’t getting drawn like a normal. So, this is a back sling, but the only way you’re pulling this sword out quickly is to take the thing off.” He scratched his stubble. “Unless you’ve got an extendable arm, that is.”

“I don’t think they’re telescopic,” Josh said.

“Eh?” said the smith.

“Never mind.”

The smith took the sword, slid it into the sheath, and handed it to him. Josh put it on, rotating his shoulders and getting used to the feel of it.

“See this little button here?” The smith said. “That’s your quick release. If you wanna get it off quick, that’s your way. Basically, you’ve gotta practice a new way of drawing your sword if you want a beast this big.”

Josh tried, the sword swinging to one side. He grabbed its handle, but the weight pulled him off balance, and he crashed to the floor.

The smith stood over him, smiling from hairy sideburn to hairy sideburn. “Gonna take a bit of getting used to.”

Having put the sword back on his back, Josh wondered if he’d had it made slightly too big. But as various scenarios played through his mind: decapitating an eight-headed hydra, fighting through a zombie swarm and facing off with a dragon, he became sure of his choice. When it came to monsters, there wasn’t such a thing as an oversized sword. He held out his hand to thank the smith.

“It’s great—even the shield. Thank you.”

“That shield could become all the rage,” Cassandra said, prompting a titter from Arabella.

“No, seriously,” she said. “Men go into battle with all manner of talismans. Imagine a whole shield wall full of them, all painted to resemble tits and pussies. Then imagine the enemy running toward them, trying to keep a straight face. There’s only one winner in that battle—that much, I guarantee.”

“We should paint it with Misfits on it and make it our official shield style,” Arabella said. “We could all get one.”

“But what would we call it?” Elowen asked.

“Widowmaker!” said Cassandra.

“Been done,” Josh mumbled.

“Murder Maiden,” said the smith.

“That is excellent,” said Cassandra. “Make me one—but mine must be all black with bloodred nipples.”

The smith shook his head. “You’re all mad. You know that, don’t you?”

A few moments later, they’d ordered three more, and they left the smithy scratching his head and looking after them like he couldn’t quite understand what had happened.

The castle gardens were disappointing. A mere small strip of tended grounds, they quickly became overgrown as they narrowed to a valley head. Josh took a breath and selected a spot to perform some shapes like Carl had shown him all that time ago in Elrima.

“I wonder what happened to him,” he mused as he stripped his top off.

“To who?” Arabella asked.

“Carl.”

Carl had taught him basic sword techniques, which the ring had picked up quickly. The weapon’s master had also taught him the spear. Both times, Josh had nearly taken the man’s head off as the ring had taken over, mimicking and improving Carl’s silken strokes and allowing Josh to fight him as an equal. But after helping them at the temple in the forest, he vanished with all of Elrima’s taxes. They’d all thought it was out of character, but was it? Josh had wondered why someone so accomplished with weapons would be in a backwater place like Elrima on more than one occasion.

“Probably living it up somewhere with all Smeeks’ taxes,” said Arabella.

Josh released the sword, catching its handle and drawing, only to end up with the blade partly covered.

“Going to take a while to learn to draw this thing right,” he muttered.

But it was an improvement on his previous attempt. Arabella pulled the sheath off, and he took up his stance. He struck some poses, moving the blade around until he couldn’t wield it anymore.

“This thing is so damn heavy!”

“Keep at it,” Arabella urged.

“Gimmie some love,” he called up to Vella, who sat in a tree swinging her legs.

“Renew!” she said and blew him a kiss.

He began again, feigning attacks, backing away as he defended from imaginary enemies. Back and forth, he fought, the ring adapting to the mighty sword, but his strength letting him down. He struck at tree trunks, attacking them, woodchips flying, then backing up only to attack again.

“Renew!” Vella said, and again and again, until Josh eventually lay down on the grass and stared at the burnished sky, knowing the day was done.

“I leveled my strength—I know I did. But I got to a point where it didn’t get any easier.”

“So, how far?” Arabella asked. “You’ve been going at it for hours. Vella exhausted her vigor twice.”

“It’s leveled a few times. Hold on.”

He opened his notifications, scrolling through, and a smile crossed his lips as he read the final one.

Strength = 38

Speed and Agility = 29

Durability = 32

Combat instinct = 21

Arcane resistance = 34

Poison resistance = 28

Average = 30.333

“Yes!” he said, punching the air.

Tier advancement requirements met

Current Tier = Steel Adept

New Tier = Silver Vanguard

Title = Silver Vanguard of the Novice Enforcer

“Yes!” he said, punching the air again.

“What is it?” Arabella asked.

“I know,” said Vella.

“Requirements met!” he said, then lay down and closed his eyes.

Initiating upgrade.

Stage, Silver Vanguard reached.

Releasing bots.

Working on bone structure

Working on cardiovascular system

Linking nervous system

Hijacking neural network

Commencing Call to Arms.

Completing bone structure

Bone structure complete

Cardiovascular system complete

Nervous system linked

Neural network subjugated

Altering epidermis

Effecting enhanced strength

Strength score = 38

Changes Effected

Effecting enhanced speed and agility

Speed and agility does not qualify

Effecting enhanced durability

Durability score = 32

Changes Effected

Effecting combat instinct

Combat instinct does not qualify

Effecting Arcane resistance

Arcane resistance = 34

Changes effected

Effecting poison resistance

Poison resistance does not qualify

Call to Arms assigned

Helmet crafted

Call to Arms complete

Upgrade Complete

He lay there panting, feeling like his whole body had been broken down and then remade. He puffed out short breaths as Vella blessed him with a heal and a renew. He wanted to shout out to the world how great he felt—how strong and powerful he was, but he chose humility—the type that comes with confidence—for he knew the evolution he’d endured was special. Something inside him had shifted. He’d become extraordinary.

“What the absolute fuck just happened to your arms?” Elowen said.

“Look at those chest muscles!” said Arabella.

“I think I just came a little,” said Cassandra, touching his pecs.

“Me too,” said Vella.

“Try the sword now,” Elowen suggested.

Josh picked it up, surprised at how light it felt. He’d forgotten the system’s quirk—how every point he’d added to his strength attribute after thirty hadn’t counted until he’d evolved. Not only did he have the power of the evolution and the strength of a Golden Defender, he was eight strength points to the next stage.

Josh spun the sword over his head, then whipped around, grasping the hilt with both hands as he drove the blade into a tree trunk, forcing it clean through and felling the mighty tree in one go.

“Ladies,” he said as the tree crashed to the ground. “You have your tank.”

They looked at him with quirked brows, but then, they were used to him speaking gobbledygook.

“Tank?” Arabella said.

“You’ll see.” He sheathed his sword, deciding an ale or two was in order.

“What did you get?” she asked, tugging at his arm.

“Get?”

“Your call to arms. What did it give you?”

He grinned. “No more burned scalp!”

“A helmet?” she asked.

“Scale armor!”

The scale armor coated his torso and grew from his collar to encapsulate his head in angular plates. An opening formed, allowing him to see, and small holes opened up close to his mouth, allowing him to be heard. “What do you think?”

“Darling,” said Cassandra. “You look fucking terrifying.”

“Ah,” said Candour as he stood over them. “I have no idea why I didn’t expect to find you in a tavern, but fortunately, I have eyes and ears in most places, and this one is no exception. For some reason, I’d assumed you’d be hidden in those carriages of yours.”

“We trained all day,” Josh said. “We deserve an ale or two the same as anyone else.”

“Yet you don’t train like anyone else, do you, Mr. Underwood? A lesser man couldn’t pick up that sword you now wield, let alone fight with it. Yet, you took less than a day to— How would one put it? To grow into it?” His gaze settled on Josh’s arms. “I have one question. How? Or I would if I were an ignorant bystander.”

Josh inclined his head. “Why don’t you sit and have a drink? Perhaps you could tell me what the King’s Justice is doing in these parts. Isn’t it a little south for you?”

“Do you mean aside from saving Sendor from having his throat slit and ending an uprising?” Candour sat, signaling some ale and food. “I think I’ll pay. I owe you that much. I’m not fond of getting my hands dirty, and you performed my task so swiftly and efficiently.”

“Everything you’ve done could have been ordered done from Califire. Why do I feel there is more to this visit?”

Candour grinned. “There is a lizard nest.” He reached into his cloak and brought out a folded parchment. “For you. Shall I give it to Elowen? I sense she is the administration.” He handed it to her without Josh replying. “It is the commission to eradicate the nest. Like all, it is based on a headcount and paid at a rate decided by the threat level. We take the lizards very seriously, as you’ll see by the generous compensation. I’m agreeable to you adding those already killed, and I’ll not need the heads. For this to work, there has to be a measure of trust.”

Elowen unfolded the sheet, her eyes widening as she read.

“You haven’t answered my question,” Josh pointed out.

“But you know my answer. I came looking for you. Fortunately, you walked right into my hands.” He stared at Josh’s ring. “Some questions demand answers before they’re asked.”

“How did you hear about me?”

Candour grinned, but there was no joy in it. “You forget my prisoner. Perhaps he told me.” He drank his ale, then stood. “Enjoy your food,” he said, reaching into his cloak once more and bringing out two more pieces of paper. “Here is the location of the lizard’s nest, and this is the location of Harrogate Delaney and the delightful Melody. You’ll see the two locations are close to each other, so if you want to meet Harrogate, I’d hurry before the lizards eat him.”

“Who is your prisoner, and what does he know about me?” Josh asked as Candour walked away.

The man stopped.

“His name is Carl, Mr. Underwood, and he knows everything about you.”

Candour turned, his stare drilling into Josh.

“As do I.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

JOSH CREPT CLOSER, wishing Lyra or Dinsy were with him to scout the camp. They could do it easily, flying in and out or simply observing from above. Fortunately, thick undergrowth afforded him some cover, but it snapped and rustled as he passed through it, no matter how careful he was. The lizards knew he was there. He was sure of that.

The freshly cut stockade still oozed sap, leaves clinging to several of its uprights. Green lingered in the watchtower's woven roof, and the ropes that lashed the gates in place had a freshly platted look. Either it was a new camp, or it was expanding.

"Why," Josh whispered, but no one was close enough to hear.

Why would the monsters build a camp? It didn't make any sense to him. They were marauders, attacking local villages, destroying, ransacking, and eating the inhabitants. They weren't supposed to build settlements.

Was this why Candour had wanted him to eliminate them and not the army? Did the slippery politician want their small settlement to vanish with as few rumors as possible spreading?

"Doesn't matter a fuck," Josh said, spurring himself forward.

He had his stealth gear on but still felt they knew he was watching. The lizards in the watchtower tasted the air, their tongues flicking out as a breeze ruffled the forest. Josh had little choice but to approach from upwind as they'd built their camp on a natural peninsula—the nub of a meander, the river on three sides. Even with the river acting as a natural barrier, they'd built the stockade to surround the entire camp.

They were hiding something. His gut told him that, just like it told him they'd all but spotted his approach. He circled away from the watchtower and gate, heading toward the river. It ran fast, flowing from distant northern mountains as it headed west.

He skirted the stockade, choosing a badly stripped post and climbing. The river's chatter masked everything until he reached the top and heard that strange crackling again that had haunted him on his approach, becoming noticeable whenever the wind gusted his way. It was a constant noise like dead radio space ringing in his ears. It worried him. As far as he could recall, nothing natural made a sound like that.

Reaching the top of the fence, he dropped over, landing on a narrow walkway and crouching. The lizards were far more organized than he thought, but the warning signs had been there. The way they crowded the caster during the fight, the way the dragon-like had spearheaded the attack. Around ten huts clustered the stockade’s inside. A strange, golden glow emanated from the central one. The largest by far, two lizards guarded its entrance, both with emerald crests—both casters. Each had a staff, and that staff held an emerald stone encased in a basket weave of white wood, just like Cassandra’s staff—the Everdeep staff.

He squeezed his ears, trying to blot out the light breeze and the river’s constant chatter as he honed in on the source of the scratchy sound. It had to be the large central hut. “Magic,” he muttered with relief. He’d suspected something grander—some great plot. Magic he could handle, well, Cassandra could. She could blast this whole place to the ground if she wanted to.

Which begged the question, why not do that? The answer was simple. The monsters were too organized. They had a purpose. Candour wanted to understand what it was. He’d explained that they’d nested—as he put it—and then gradually raided. But it hadn’t been in a random pattern. Each raid was targeted, and each was designed to take resources.

There was another reason they couldn’t simply flatten the camp and slaughter the monsters. It was written into their contract with the king. They received a bounty for clearing the camp, but they received a much more substantial amount for leaving it intact. Which also explained why Candour was willing to trust them on the headcount. He had camped a mile or so away with a small contingent of soldiers. However, they were no ordinary soldiers. They were battle-hardened—the elite of the elite.

Something was definitely wrong with the lizards. Candour wanted to know what, and so did Josh. Elowen had pointed out that no known monster had ever organized. They’d always burst onto the scene, killed what they could, and then been killed themselves. It was the way of things. This wasn’t, and what he saw confirmed it.

At the front of the camp, right by the watchtower, stood a long, thin hut from which ordinary gray lizards came and went. He estimated it could sleep fifteen, perhaps twenty at a push, but there was always the worrying possibility of bunk beds that would potentially double that number. The positioning of it smacked of aggressive organization. If an attack were to occur, the fodder was there to act as a meat shield.

Behind the long hut and set at right angles to it, two buildings stretched to a central firepit with three rows of benches surrounding it. He guessed one was a feasting hall and the other perhaps an armory. Over the firepit, the large building dominated, which Josh assigned to the casters. On either side of the pit, two smaller huts housed the red dragon-likes, of whom there appeared to be more than Josh had imagined. He’d thought one or two but was now erring toward four or five. In fact, Candour’s estimate of twenty lizards was pretty inaccurate. Josh leaned toward double that but did wonder how Candour could have been so far out.

There was evidence that they were about to expand, too. Several piles of sharpened stakes lay bundled and ready for pitching, and they’d also cleared a section of ground in front of the camp. His gut warned him that something was wrong—very, very wrong. It also told him that he needed to take a look inside the main hut—to understand the golden glow.

He also wanted to watch the two large tents on either side of the glowing hut. Each looked grand, like some commander’s marquee. If there were a fourth type of lizard, he’d need to know about it before they attacked. The whole mission looked dangerous enough, humungous sword or not, without being surprised by some new lizard class in mid-battle.

It was mid-afternoon, and so far, he’d seen no sign of the lizards sleeping during the day. He decided to wait until nighttime—see if the camp fell quiet. Creeping along the walkway, he came to the farthest point from the gates, fortunately downwind of the camp. He sat, pulled his legs in and waited, his gaze fixed on the golden glow before him.

His mind wandered back to Candour and the man’s motives, but he chose not to attempt to unravel that mystery. Given that politicians rarely showed their cards, Josh was pretty confident that Candour was a manipulative man. Instead of the puzzle, he pondered his little group—its dynamic—and he settled on Arabella. He needed to find her a trainer—someone like Carl. She would be his ranged attack but inevitably get dragged into melee. To protect her, he had to ensure she could defend herself.

Nightfall came, and with it, the golden glow brightened. The spreading light brushed the two marquees on either side. He watched for signs of movement; his patience eventually rewarded when something stirred in one. A shadow rose from what he assumed was a bed. It was huge compared to the other lizards, and its crest was much more prominent. The creature dressed and then stood still. Across the camp, in the other marquee, another beast stirred. It appeared identical to its partner, leaving Josh in no doubt that their planned attack had become more complicated. The second creature dressed and then waited like the first.

Wide awake, Josh switched his gaze between the two. The backdrop of static noise heightened, and the two giant lizards stepped from their tents. Both had skin highlighted with gold. Both wore robes of the same color and carried staffs with golden orbs on top. They marched to the large hut, the caster guards parting for them with a slight dip to their heads. Vanishing inside, Josh lost sight of them, unable to see anything through the hut’s wood walls. But curiosity had the better of him, so he dropped to the ground with a soft thud and crept toward the large hut, pressing his body against the wall and holding his breath while quickly checking his surroundings.

Golden light bled through a gap in the uprights. It emanated from a giant crackling oval, a thing of such beauty Josh had to stop himself gasping. Its edges shone with pure brilliance, luminous gold stretching into the oval and crackling and fizzing like each curved side repelled the other. It rose from a circle of flat stones with bright runes inscribed. The two golden lizards stood on each side of it, facing its edges, heads bowed, both chanting.

“Priests!” he growled. “They have to be priests.”

A bad feeling crept through Josh’s gut as he watched the golden fizz. After a short while, a shape formed within it. At first, it resembled a man’s shadow, but it slowly became more reptilian. The priest’s chanting became louder, the figure resolving, its outline becoming more intricate until a fully formed lizard stepped through, looking about as if dazed and confused.

A portal—it’s a fucking portal! Josh thought.

He’d seen enough. Did Candour know about the portal? Where did the lizards come from? He needed to discover something about them—anything that might give him a clue about their origin. His attention strayed to the marquees behind him.

With one last look at the newly arrived lizard, he crept away, slipping into the tent and looking around. There were no furnishings apart from a bed. A few scrolls lay unrolled, but Josh couldn’t understand the writing, and a pile of robes had been tossed in one corner. He kicked at an empty chest, tossed a blanket over, then came to a small table and chairs. There, lying open on the table, was a book. It was the size of Josh’s hand and reminded him of a notepad. He flicked its pages open, not understanding what he saw, but leaning closer, looking at the small pictures, the scribbling under.

“Are they stars?” he wondered, then turned the page again. “Those are the runes on the stones,” he said.

He shut the book, turning as he heard a commotion—panicking as he realized he was the focus of the uproar.

How!

He had his stealth gear on. There was no way they could see him. He backed away as the tent flap opened, and the lizards spilled in. They paused, looking around—looking directly at him.

They can’t see me!

Their tongues tasted the air as they hunted for him. Josh pressed against the canvas, edging around. They looked right at him, through him, but couldn’t seem to see him. Then it came to him. His silhouette—they could see his silhouette like he’d seen the priest rooting around.

He crouched, then moved away from the edge. He had no weapons and was too outnumbered to even think about fighting. The lizards piled in, and their excited chatter stopped as they moved aside, making way for another. A priest walked in, his golden eyes scanning the marquee. The red coloring Josh’s vision suddenly deepened as a ball of golden light hatched on the priest’s palm. The other lizards backed out of the tent as the priest shouted something in a language Josh couldn’t understand.

He didn’t need to.

The magic cracked out, knocking Josh from his feet. He ripped through the canvas, crashing into the palisade. The uprights cracked but held. Josh tried to force a breath into his lungs. He rolled to one side, crawling away as another strike shot from the priest, the wall exploding. Josh didn’t waste any time. He darted through the hole, leaping to the riverbank and vanishing into the forest.

“A portal?” Elowen said, thumbing the book’s pages over. “Do you think Candour wants to capture it?”

“That’s not really the point here,” Josh snapped, a little irritated he’d fucked up and nearly got caught. Still, he’d learned a valuable lesson. He had to take care when in stealth mode as he could cast a shadow. “Sorry.” He rose from the table, sitting on the edge of his huge bed. Vella jumped on behind him, massaging his shoulders. “The real point is that the priests didn’t create the portal from scratch. It was there. All they did was summon a being. We have another insight into how the monsters come to the land.”

“I’m still in the who-gives-a-flying-fuck corner,” Cassandra said. “Monsters come”—she stabbed her arms out— “one blast and monsters go. I could change the river's course—have it wash them away.”

“What happened to the bird’s fart theory?” Arabella asked.

Arabella’s question drew Josh’s immediate attention. “What bird’s fart theory,” he asked with a smirk.

Arabella immediately jumped from the sofa. “The one that says if a bird farts in one land, and it stirs some wind, or something, then that wind causes a storm—” She scratched her head. “Well, it’s something like the bird farts, then somewhere else in the land gets well and truly fucked.”

“Butterfly,” said Elowen absently.

Arabella screwed her face up. “Don’t be so daft. A butterfly’s fart isn’t going to do anything.”

Josh grinned, laying back and resting his head on Vella’s lap. “It’s the wind created by the flap of a butterfly’s wings.”

They both looked at him and burst out laughing. “That wouldn’t do a thing!” Elowen said.

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Look, I know what you’re getting at. If I cause the river to wipe out the lizards, I might flood some poor village downstream. Well, tough, you shouldn’t build your village so close to something liable to flood. You’re asking for trouble, upstream witch or no upstream witch.”

“She’s got point,” said Vella as she thumbed Josh’s temples. “Build nest in trees.”

Josh stared up, her perfectly flat stomach vanishing into a lovely view of her under-boob. “The point that we’re all forgetting is this—it’s a stable portal. Don’t monsters usually emerge from interdimensional tears that seal instantly?”

“Darling, I wish you’d speak Mythelorian all the time. Inter what what?” Cassandra sat beside him, her hand resting on his groin. “I’ll bet I can get this monster to pop out of its portal.”

Josh reluctantly brushed her hand away and sat up. “The monster can wait a moment. Elowen, are there any reports of people ever seeing monsters come through portals?”

“None I’ve ever encountered, but I hadn’t been looking for that. I was more into old ruins before I met up with you and Bells. There might be in the library in Califire.”

Josh thought back. “Well, Vella showed me sprites popping in and out of existence, so I’ve seen it, and I saw mountains behind that resembled the Hangsane. What if this isn’t all linked to Ravenheart or some civilization from beyond those mountains? What if they’ve learned to travel great distances by opening portals?”

Cassandra screwed her face up. “Then why would they want to travel here? Why Mythelcore?”

“The question is always what rather than why,” Josh said. “What have we got that they want? The lizards were eating people.” He drummed his fingers on his chin. “Could it be that simple? When the monsters come, they kill humans and elves. Could we have something they want?”

“Vigor or mana,” Vella said. “Mana everywhere. Humans have lots of vigor compared to animals.”

“Vigor,” said Josh. “So, could it be vigor?”

“If they’re only coming to eat us, then we have a major problem,” said Elowen. “Because if we shut one portal, they’ll simply open another one.”

“And if we venture through, we’ll be like chickens walking into a wolf’s den,” Arabella said.

“Which makes that book the key, and which also makes taking the settlement in one piece extremely important. Anyone got any ideas?”

“First,” Cassandra said, picking up her staff and standing to attention. “We need to learn to kill them.”

“Then why don’t we start there,” Josh said.

Josh led Cassandra through the forest, Arabella following a little behind. Vella skipped from tree to tree. She was their eyes and ears. Josh’s perception had limited range, and they needed to know the instant a lizard patrol left the compound. Elowen had remained with the carriages. Her melee skills didn’t suit the mission, and despite her protests, Josh’s stance remained firm. You weren't put at risk if you didn’t fit the mission.

They came to the spot Josh had selected. It was a narrow cut in the local shale but broad enough that he could swing his massive sword. Sharp shelves stacked high on either side, slippery with damp moss, making it perfect for an ambush. All Josh had to hope was that Cassandra had learned to control her magic and didn’t blast him to bits trying to kill them all.

Vella had mixed a poison and coated Arabella’s arrowheads in it. It had worked on a boar they’d killed, but whether it would have the same effect on a lizardman was unknown. But that was the whole point of the exercise—discover their weak points ready for the attack.

He was pretty sure the lizard priests couldn’t bring an endless stream of creatures through the portal. What he’d witnessed was more akin to a birth rather than a gateway opening. Getting more lizards through clearly cost something—whether mana or vigor. Josh had no clue which, but he knew the basics behind such exploration. The point was simple: expend a resource you had in abundance to harvest one you didn’t.

If Vella was right and mana was more common than vigor, then it could be that the lizards couldn’t make vigor, yet eating humans gave them it. If they then had a euphoric, energetic feeling race through their bodies, it was entirely plausible that they had become addicted to eating human meat. The only question that remained was how they harvested the vigor—if they indeed did.

“Group coming,” said Vella, swinging upside down from a leafy bough. “Six grays and a red.”

“No casters?” Josh asked.

“None.”

“Does that mean anything?” Cassandra asked.

“Straight-up patrol rather than a raiding party.” He pointed at her. “Just remember, I’m a friend who hates lightning bolts up his ass.”

“Darling, I am so done with lightning bolts. They are so last battle. I’ve a new trick up my sleeve.” She shrank the Everdeep staff down, stowing it in her belt. “You hold them up. I’ll spring out from behind and kill them.”

“That’s the plan. Downwind—always downwind,” Josh reminded her as they all faded into the undergrowth.

Josh stepped out the instant he heard them coming. He stood, scale armor on, covering his torso, neck and head, his mighty sword in one hand, the murder-maiden shield in the other. He said nothing, standing, blocking their way, his sword back, ready to strike.

The red lizard leading them carried a spear. He held up his fist, pumping it in the air once, then eyed Josh, who took a few steps back to bait them forward. Remaining silent, Josh retreated a little more when they stepped forward. He cocked his head, planting his murder maiden in the mud and waiting. The lizard scanned the slate shelves, then across the forest canopy, flicking his tongue out to taste the air. “Alone, human?” he asked.

Josh grinned. “Don’t be so stupid, lizard. I have a whole army behind me. Throw that spear, and you’ll meet them all.”

“Armies stink. Human armies stink the worst. No army here, human.”

“Oh, there is. But we bathe. Not all of us are complete peasants. Now, are we going to fight, or should we continue chatting? Oh!” he said. “Just one more thing. What’s your race called?”

“We are Himilent, human. A name you’ll not have heard and won’t live to tell another soul.”

“Tell me,” he said. “Is your land that much of a shithole that you have to come here to ours?”

“Our land—”

Before he could say another word, Cassandra stepped out behind them with what appeared to be a glowing rope in her hand. She cracked it like a whip, and the closest Himilent’s head fell from its shoulders.

“Fuck me,” she said. “That worked better than I thought.” She drew it back again.

Red launched his spear, then drew back his head and breathed a gout of fire, channeling it along the cut straight at Josh. “Die, human!” he shouted as an arrow thudded into his neck.

Josh reversed the murder maiden, planting its breasts in the ground as he crouched behind it. The spear sailed over his head as the flames battered the shield. But he was on his feet instantly, charging Red as the lizard pulled the arrow from his throat and turned to stare at Arabella. She loosed another arrow as Cassandra’s lightning whip cracked again, killing another gray.

Josh swung, the great sword arcing down, chopping at the slate shelves and driving through them as another arrow hit Red. A gray climbed toward Arabella as Cassandra’s whip took out another lizard. Josh completed his devastating strike, chopping Red in two, the force of the strike burying his sword in the mud. Discarding it, he raced up the hill as Arabella shot an arrow straight into the lizard’s face.

Feeling no pain, the lizard dove for her, a short sword appearing in its hand, stabbing at her. She tripped, falling back, slipping on the moss, managing to draw her knife, but the lizard was on her. Josh grabbed its foot, yanking it back so hard the creature’s leg snapped off in his hand. The ease with which he’d pulled the lizard’s leg off surprised him, and he tumbled back into the cut. “No!” he yelled, racing back up.

Crack! Cassandra killed another, but the last tackled Josh as he tried to scramble back toward Arabella. Josh threw his fist around, cracking it right in the face and knocking its snout through the back of its head. Its entire body went limp as Josh’s punch severed its spinal cord. “Arabella!” he cried.

Vella dropped from a tree above Arabella, vanishing from Josh’s view. He raced up the slate slope to see the elf hauling the lizard off Arabella.

“Arabella!” he cried.

“Heal,” said Vella. “Renew!”

Arabella spluttered and spat, then sat up. “That was fucking disgusting. The thing barfed in my mouth as it died.”

“Did it hurt you?”

“Nope. Either the poison got it, or you pulling its leg off killed it. I doubt this little thing did.” She held up her dagger.

“Is that copper?” Josh asked, kicking the creature over.

“Bronze, I think.”

“I think you might be wrong about the dagger. Look.”

A small puncture in the creature’s gut had blackened, dark veins radiating from it.

“You think bronze poisons?”

“I certainly think it’s worth testing out.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

"REALLY?" Arabella said.

"Look, I know what I'm doing." Cassandra lifted the large cauldron off the fire.

"This wagon is creepy," said Vella.

"It's a little dark compared to ours," Josh said.

"I love mine—it's got bookshelves on every wall," Elowen said.

Cassandra's carriage did have a strange feel. Its black wood lent the place a sinister air, and the perpetually glowing embers under the cauldron added a tinge of red to all. She had some questionable pets that made odd noises. A hiss occasionally came from a dark cupboard, and several grunts emanated from under the bed. A one-eyed bird lurked inside a dark cage, and a yellow cat with bright orange eyes had curled up on her desk.

"Well, I love it. It appeases my dark and broody side. Not sure I want to lose that yet. It drives my anger." She lifted the cauldron from the embers and set it on the floor.

"Can we get on, please," asked Arabella. "I was getting fond of my dagger. It made me feel safe. If you’re going to ruin it, then do it before I change my mind.”

"We have to find out if bronze kills the lizards," Josh said. "Cassandra's ferrumurge is the best way of doing it. Saves us going to a blacksmith. Besides, the nearest one is a day away, and there's no guarantee he'll have the copper and tin."

Arabella handed over her knife, slapping it onto Cassandra's outstretched palm. "Fine."

The witch took the knife, testing its weight. The winked at Arabella. "I'll take good care of it."

The knife floated from her hand, hovering over the fire. Cassandra hummed as she performed a series of intricate gestures, her fingers strumming the air. Josh looked on, his jaw slightly open and his heart racing. He still wasn't used to magic. It gave him a certain trepidation mixed with the I-don't-really-want-to-do-a-ouija-board feeling of imminent doom. The knife spun, facing Arabella. It shot toward her, stopping a few inches shy of her before it twitched, slicing shirt and revealing more of her cleavage.

"What the hell did you do that for? Now it needs mending," she said.

Cassandra giggled, as did Vella and Elowen.

"For fun?" she said. "And I wanted to know if I had the control I thought. As your dad once said, you don't get better at something without practicing."

"I've never heard him say that, and I don't think he meant practicing so close to his daughter."

Cassandra scoffed. "Even if I’d lost control, you wouldn't have been hurt… much. Vella would have healed you."

"Yes," said Vella.

"Can we get on?" Josh said, stifling his smile.

It was fantastic to see his girls getting on so well. From naked bath time pillow fights to working together in battle, he had the perfect unit. With him as a tank, Cassandra as the caster, and Arabella as ranged, the only needed melee to complete the party. A bit of training for Elowen might sort that out, but it wasn't her strong point. He was sure of that.

They needed someone who could go in and inflict damage on monsters while Josh tied them up with his sword and shield. He didn’t care how that damage occurred—whether by sword, spear or some other inventive means, because sooner or later, they would encounter some behemoth of a beast, and a few of Josh’s sword strikes wouldn’t end it. They would need to whittle it down bit by bit.

The bronze knife began to lose its form. Its tip drooped, as did its end. It quickly sagged, and the end of the blade and handle met to form a point. The middle then dipped in, and a heart-shaped blob of bronze hovered over the fire. Cassandra winked at Josh and blew him a kiss, mouthing the words for you. While his heart swooned a little, his dick fattened instantly. There was something innately sexy about the witch. Passion ran in her veins like fire raging through a parched forest. Just the slightest indication that sex might be on the cards sent his cock into overdrive.

The heart vanished, and a molten bronze blob took its place. “Arrow, please, Arabella.”

Arabella passed her one of her arrows. The witch took it, holding its shaft and teasing its head into the blob. She withdrew, keeping it over the bronze, letting any excess drip back. Withdrawing the arrow, she inspected the tip. “What do you think?”

Josh held it up, its iron tip coated in bronze. “I think it's perfect. If the bronze killed it, then this should, too.”

“Pass me the next,” Cassandra said.

Arabella handed her one after the other. In all, they coated twenty arrows before the blob ran out. Cassandra levitated the cauldron back in place and sat back, holding her temples. “Mana-drain,” she said. “Screws with the mind.”

Josh held out his hand, but when she failed to take it, he bent and scooped her up, laying her on her bed.

“Stay with me a while. It’ll pass soon,” she said.

He glanced at Arabella. She nodded. “Look after her. I’m going hunting, and Elowen’s writing up her notes. I’ll take Vella with me, give you two some peace and quiet.”

“Thank you,” Josh said.

Cassandra lay on the bed, her pale skin framed by the satin black sheets. He unlaced her boots, slipping them off, then gently massaged her feet as her breaths deepened. After a short while, she pulled her legs back, muttering, “Lay with me.”

He slipped his boots off, lay by her and squeezed his arm under her, drawing her head onto the crook of his shoulder. Stroking her hair, he thought back to the first time they’d met under the ruins of Elrima. He recalled how brash she’d been—how she’d breezed in full of sass. In many ways, the sorceress lying by him was unrecognizable from that audacious witch, but her spark was still there. She’d grown—of all his girls, she’d grown the most. Her power was undeniable. The taming of it was a work in progress, but the control she’d shown coating the arrows displayed how far she’d come.

He wasn’t worried where her power would lead her either. He had become powerful, too. Of the party, he and Cassandra were the OP ones. Yet, the others grounded them. They saw no threat, no hierarchy. Arabella had been the weakest by far during their recent ambush, but she still held her own—still fought without fear. No, he mused, there was no danger because none of his harem was threatened by any others. Each had their place in his heart, and nothing would alter that.

Cassandra stirred, her leg draping over his as she turned and faced him. Her face nuzzled into his neck, soft breath on his skin. She brushed his shirt, tugging it free from his pants, her hand snaking under. Cupping his pecs, she let her finger dance over his nipple as her knee brushed his groin.

“Hey, I thought you had a headache.”

“I did—mana-drain—it’s different. You transferred some of yours into me.”

“I did?”

“You didn’t mean to, but yes, you did. Or I might have stolen it.”

He laughed. “You’re welcome to it,” he said, slightly opening his legs to encourage her knee’s circular motion. “You still want to sleep?”

“You know I don’t,” she said.

He tried to shift around, but she locked him into place with her leg as her fingers circled his belly button. “You remember our first time?” she asked.

“Like it was yesterday. But the best thing is, I remember all the others, as well.”

“The first was special. I don’t think we’ve been alone since. Not that I mind the others at all. I love them being there. But every now and then, I’d like you to myself as well.”

“I’d like that too. More than one of you means I split my focus. Sometimes, it’s nice to only think of one.”

“Yes,” she said. “Although, they’re each a raging turn-on. Just thinking about the others gets me wet.”

She said the last word with a pop. Something about her pronunciation made him instantly hard. “What?” he asked.

“What?”

“What about Arabella makes you wet?” He slid from under her, undressing quickly but holding her in place. “No, lie there and tell me.”

He peeled her skirt off, nudging her legs apart and lowering his lips onto hers.

“She has the best breasts,” Cassandra said, placing her hand on his head. “And her smile lights up the room. She’s sexy, bubbly—oh God, that’s good—and she knows exactly how to press my buttons.”

Josh took a breath. “And Elowen?” He dove back, gently licking her slit from top to bottom as he placed her other hand on her pussy and made space for her fingers. “What about her? Does she make you want to touch yourself?”

“She’s smart-sexy,” Cassandra moaned. “And she can do things with her tongue that make me climb the walls. Great kisser,” she gasped. “She’s a great kisser, too, and her cunt is always so moist. It tastes so good.”

“So does yours, baby.” Josh slipped his tongue into her as she raised her legs and spread them wider.

“You know it,” she said, her fingers blurring, occasionally catching his nose. He rose, kneeling over her. “What about Vella?”

“Has to be her pussy. So smooth and hairless. Or her breasts—I love her little breasts. Then there’s her flex. She’s so damn bendy she can serve herself on a plate if she wants to.”

“So, each has their part.” He placed his dick under her busy fingers.

“I like to fuck with all of them.”

“That’s good,” he said, finally sliding in, feeling her silken warmth around his throbbing cock. “Takes the pressure off.”

She withdrew her fingers, running them along his lips. He sucked eagerly, rinsing them of her juices as he buried himself to the hilt in her. “And what about me?”

She grinned, pulling him down so their lips met, their tongues instantly clashing. She held him in place as he began thrusting in and out of her. Then she pushed him slightly back, their lips lightly touching in a sensual kiss. “I love your cock,” she said. “I love the feel of it inside me. I love how hard it is—how I struggle to fit it in, but I always do. I love it when you cum inside me—when you cum in my mouth, my pussy, and I’d love it if you came in my ass. I love it when you fill me up. I love everything about you, Josh Underwood. Every single damn thing.”

Josh sped his stroke up. “Your ass?” he said.

“Oh, yes,” she gasped.

Chapter Thirty-Five

“WHERE THE HELL ARE THEY?” Arabella asked, stowing her bow back on her shoulder.

“Place looks deserted,” Cassandra said.

“No lookouts. Gates open.” Josh drew his mighty sword, jumped from the undergrowth, and strode toward the compound. He teased the gate fully open, peering inside. “Empty!”

The girls rushed out as he slipped inside. “It’s all gone,” he said, entering the large, central hut. “The stones are still here. Look, there’s the runes.”

Elowen collected them as Josh raced back outside, a bad feeling growing in his gut. The marquees had gone.

“They aren’t coming back, are they?” Arabella said.

“Did they go back through the portal?” Cassandra asked.

“No!” Vella shouted from the watchtower. “Went that way.”

“What the hell is that way?” Josh asked.

Elowen retrieved a map from her satchel. She unrolled it on the ground, orienting it correctly and then looking along the line of Vella’s pointed finger. “That way is Nestledown,” she said.

“Nestledown?” said Cassandra. “Rings a bell, but I can’t for the life of me think why.”

“Melody,” Arabella said.

“Melody?” Josh asked.

Elowen looked up from the map. “Harrogate and Melody Delaney live in Nestledown. Candour told us.”

“Fuck!” Josh cursed.

The carriages bumped and crashed along the furrowed trail. Smoke hung in the air. Its fingers creeping toward them, reaching from the village. The forest trail was straight, tunneling through ranks of oaks. Ahead, the flicker of bright orange filled Josh with dread. He pulled his horses up, ready to dismount—the chaos of slaughter becoming audible.

“Wait!” Arabella held him. “We need to plan.”

“They’ve forced our hand,” he said. “Can’t you hear the screams?” He calmed, taking in the scene, breathing hard. “You, take the higher ground, angle up that slope, then bend around. You should see the village from there. Find a vantage point and start firing your arrows. Let’s hope the bronze has the effect we think it will. Vella, you come with me and Cassandra. Peel off just before we get to the danger. Straight up into the trees. Try and heal from there.”

“Where do you want me?” Cassandra said.

“No choice. You’re with me. Take the Murder Maiden. Blast every fucker in sight. If it puts another human in danger, take the shot. We won’t be able to save everyone. Elowen, you have a choice. You can stay here, or you can go with Arabella and try and spot Melody and Harrogate. If you do, slip in, slip out. Observe and only engage if you have to. Vella, try and keep an eye on Elowen if she goes for Harrogate. Look after Cassandra second. Understand?”

“Don’t like.”

“None of this is good.” He handed Cassandra his shield. “Let’s go. I’ll draw the fuckers onto me. If you can get the priests and casters, then that’s a bonus.”

Cassandra dumped the shield. “I have my own protection.”

Josh dithered. He hadn’t practiced with both often and was barely proficient with the sword. “Fuck it,” he growled. “Let’s go fast and furious.”

“Just the way I like it,” Cassandra said.

Josh jumped from the wagon, racing forward, Vella at his side.

“Hold on!” Cassandra said.

“Catch up. I’ll draw them to me. Remember, better to level the village than let them win. Everyone’s dead anyway if we don’t kill them. Got it?”

Cassandra nodded, a ball of pure, white power appearing in her hands.

Josh raced in, the smoke swirling around him before reaching the village’s stockade. As far as he could make out, the settlement straddled the road as it passed right through. Panicked screams grew louder. Blood-curdling cries rang out. He hurdled his first body—a human woman torn limb from limb. A flash of gray scales pounced from the murk, Josh’s perception signaling it long before he was close. His sword sliced through the creature as he called for his scale armor. It restricted his agility slightly, slowing him as well, but he’d progressed so much that he barely noticed the loss.

The top of the lizard’s body slid from its bottom half, the cut so clean the beast still tried to stab Josh with its spear. He stepped around it, slowing his pace, bracing for the next attack. Two lizards fought over a man’s corpse, savaging it, ripping fleshy chunks off. Josh leaped at the closest, his one-handed stroke a thing of elegance and beauty, his enhanced strength carrying the mighty sword easily. The second lizard fell as light flashed across the second’s neck, severing its head and sending it crashing to the ground.

“To your left, my lover!” Cassandra sang.

Josh followed his flashing notification, a dragon-like emerging from the smoke, fire already in its throat, several grays behind it. Cassandra’s whip cracked, and the creature’s head shot off at an oblique angle. The grays charged, meeting Josh’s sword and losing badly. The whoosh of an arrow sounded, and Josh turned in time to see a plume of rolling fire coming at him from another dragon-like. Without his shield, his arms and legs toasted as the fire enveloped him, but rather than break his stride, he charged straight into the flames, head down, relying on his perception to judge distance. He struck, his great sword meeting minimal resistance as it took another lizard out. Another whoosh, a twang and a dull thump told him Arabella had downed another. Cassandra’s whip cracked again, and Vella’s heal washed over him, partially restoring his blistered arms and legs.

A break in the smoke allowed him to get his bearings, but only for a moment.

“You!” the golden lizard growled. “You stole from me!” It stamped its staff on the ground as Josh rushed it.

Josh stumbled as the ground under him tilted. He floundered, momentarily unsure, mauve coloring his vision. A golden light bloomed around the lizard priest, and a muted boom rang out. The force of it struck Josh straight in the gut, sending him hurtling backward, smashing into a hut, crashing through it. He came to a halt, rolling straight onto his feet and racing back out. One thing he understood about casters—they always needed time to recharge their spells. Sometimes, it was a few moments, other times longer, but there was always a window of opportunity. He dove for his sword, knowing his time was limited. He grabbed his weapon, throwing himself into a somersault, bringing the mighty sword and chopping straight down.

The caster glowed with golden power. For a split second, Josh thought he was too late—that the spell would blast him backward again. A heal rippled through him as his blade split the caster in two, slicing it from top to bottom. The caster’s spell rippled through him, the priest’s magic entering his blade, traveling up Josh’s arms and entering his body. For the tiniest of moments, Josh felt a surge of power within him. The fleeting thought that he might blow up passed through him before pain invaded every inch of his body.

“Heal!” Vella’s words permeated the electric confusion within him. He fell to his knees, semi-aware of another threat racing toward him.

“Renew!” Vella cried.

From the corner of his recovering vision, Josh spied Cassandra. The witch emerged from the ruins of a hut, climbing through the hole the priest had blasted her through. She looked pissed. She looked really, really pissed.

White lightning forked from her outstretched hands as an unholy noise issued from her mouth. She strode forward, the threats advancing on Josh vanishing one by one.

A massive explosion blasted them both sideways.

“What the fuck was that?” Josh asked Cassandra, holding his ringing ears.

As if time itself had suffered a slight hiccup, a wave of hot, wet flesh strafed them. He peeled a lump from his face.

“That looks like red lizard,” Cassandra said.

“Heal!”

Cassandra perked. “Thanks, Vella, wherever you are.”

“No problem.”

“Renew!”

Josh felt his bots surge, renewed by her vigor.

“Let’s go and find out,” Josh said, scrambling for his sword and marching toward the source of the explosion.

A gray staggered from an alleyway. Cassandra fried it with a lightning bolt.

“Not bothering with the whip?”

“Fuckers get fried. The whip was too quick and painless.”

“We don’t think they feel pain,” Josh pointed out.

“Well, that just pisses me off even more.”

Josh jumped forward, planting his feet. A gray charged for him, spear leveled.

“Mine!” he shouted, then waited until the last moment before jinking to one side and sweeping his blade around to slice the creature in two.

“That is one brutal weapon,” Cassandra observed.

“I make no apologies for being overpowered. The pain I went through to get here?” He posed the question and then answered it. “Totally worth it. There’s nothing worse than a fair fight.”

“Totally,” Cassandra said, sending a firebolt into another gray.

They walked between two blazing buildings, a curtain of heavy smoke obscuring the view.

“Careful,” Cassandra said. “I think there’s a crater ahead. The ground feels all wrong.”

“Can’t you smooth it all out?”

She smacked her lips together. “I suppose I could.”

“Get rid of the smoke?” he ventured.

“Why not?”

She muttered some words and extinguished both fires. The ground rumbled under his feet, and for a moment, Josh thought the mud under him might tilt again, but instead, it heaved and stretched.

“All leveled, just the smoke to go,” she said and summoned a great gust to clear it.

Josh double-took as the lizard priest turned. The creature pulsed power, a great, golden aura surrounding him. Two dragon-likes stood on either side of it, six grays flanking them. Most of the lizards faced a battered dwelling. Its roof smoldered, and scorch marks scarred the front. A large, round tube poked through one of its broken windows, and a pale face briefly appeared.

“Run for your life, you fool!” The cry came from the dwelling.

“Not a fucking chance,” Cassandra said as a whooshing sound filled Josh’s ears, followed by a flash of red.

He flinched as an arrow thudded straight into the priest’s gut. Another whoosh spurred Josh and Cassandra into action. Lightning burst from the witch’s hands, picking up a dragon-like and sending it flying backward, its body black ash by the time it crashed into the mud.

Josh raced forward. “Get the priest!” he cried, head down, using his sword like a spear.

“Darling, I think he’s already dead,” Cassandra said as a gout of fire enveloped Josh.

Regardless, he drove the sword into the golden lizard, his vision blinking mauve warnings. Magic powered through him again, a feeling akin to a massive electric shock. His arms and legs crisped as the red lizard’s fire curled around his exposed skin. He forced himself on, ripping the sword sideways as he tried to free it from the creature’s gut.

As his agony grew, as the magic infiltrated every part of his body, he felt the creature’s essence drawn into him—like it had formed a bridge between them. Sudden realization told him he was wrong and that his ring had initiated the contact—that it had drained the priest of information. The contained magic welled within him, hunting for a way to escape. Josh screamed in agony as he finally ripped the mighty sword free. He rose, the power needing its freedom, or he would split in two. He turned on the remaining couple of grays, tossing his sword aside and launching at them, pummeling them, kicking and punching them senseless until they were bloody heaps.

He screamed, shaking his fists at the sky as Vella’s heals rained down on him.

“Darling,” said Cassandra. “You really need to let that inner animal out a bit more often. It sends shivers all the way down into my groin.”

Josh scanned around, but his vision had cleared, finally free of red, mauve or blue. “They’re all dead,” he said.

“Which is a bloody shame!” The grumpy voice came from the dwelling but sounded hollow like the man had spoken through the huge tube.

“You can come out now,” Josh said.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” the old man shouted back. “You two scare me more than the lizards.”

Josh could barely make out any more than a blurred face in the window, but even so, he had the sense that the man was an eccentric.

“We’re the good guys,” Josh shouted, approaching.

“Take one more step, and I’ll blast you!” the man warned.

“Locked and primed,” a female voice called. It was the type of voice that teetered on abrupt while still managing to inject a small amount of insanity into it. Although only three words, Josh garnered a quick opinion of the woman, one confirmed when another face appeared at the window. She wore dark, round goggles and had a helmet on—like half an egg. Hair stuck out at weird angles, and soot smudged much of her face. As quickly as the head popped up, so it vanished.

“I wonder if that’s Melody Delaney,” Josh mused.

“The clues are there,” Cassandra said. “That was definitely a bomb earlier, and that tube could be a speaking tube, or it might launch something.”

Josh’s intuitive hazard detection system, aka perception, began to blink mauve and red. “They have magic?” he queried.

“I can feel it building, but it’s not normal—not natural.” Cassandra ruffled her hair.

“One more warning. Retreat or meet your maker,” the old man warned.

But Josh was transfixed by it all. A part of him wanted to see what the old man had up his sleeve. Then his perception went haywire, and he made his choice. “Run!”

Josh pulled Cassandra with him, shoving her in front as they ran. A thump in the back quickly followed an explosion and threw them both forward, rolling and landing in a heap. He scrambled up. “You okay?” he asked, feeling like he was in the middle of a ringing bell.

“I’m going to kill that fucker,” Cassandra said, her voice booming, then softening and then getting louder. She pulled her staff from its holster and shook her hair back, rising as Vella shouted, “Heal.” “I’m going to tear them in half, then kick them all the way to the Hangsane.”

Josh scrambled after her. “Delaney or no Delaney, I’m with you there,” he said, marching back to the hut.

“Melody? Is that you?” Arabella’s voice sounded through the smoke.

“Bells?” came a hollow reply, that touch on insanity still lurking.

“Mels!” shouted Elowen.

Josh strode through the curtain of smoke, down the side of a crater and up the other side to see Arabella and Elowen looking into the tube.

“Did you just fire that thing at Josh?” Arabella asked.

“If that was the meat sack with the oversized sword and witch sidekick, then yeah. Blew them to next Sunday.”

“No,” said Josh. “No, you didn’t.”

“Sidekick?” Cassandra growled.

“Holy shit,” said Melody Delaney from the hut’s door. She took off her half-helmet and shook out her hair. “You survived.”

“Holy shit,” said Josh as his mouth gaped at the gorgeous woman.

End of Book 2

Monsters Mayhem & Misfits 3

A LitRPG Fantasy

Chapter One

THE SMOKE DISSIPATED, and the dust settled.

“Do I look like a fucking lizard?” Josh growled.

Melody Delaney looked him up and down. “Half.”

“Half?”

“Half a lizard. You’re mostly covered in scales, so you look like half a lizard.”

“Well, I don’t look like a lizard. So, why did you blow me up?” Cassandra asked.

“Lady,” said Melody, “you’re just plain scary. We work on a strict blow-the-fuck-out-of-you-ask-questions-later policy. You fell foul of that, is all.” She tossed her helmet on the ground, shaking her hair out. “But if you’re with Bells, you’re okay in my book.”

“Melodeeeeeeee!” cried Elowen, racing through the ruined village, hurdling lizard limbs, and bowling straight into Melody. The pair fell backward, vanishing inside the hut.

A heavy silence fell.

“Trip wire!” the Harrogate Delaney cried as he dove out the window. “Run for your lives!”

Josh reacted straight away, his sphere of perception pulsing brilliant red. He lunged forward, pulled Elowen off Melody, grabbed the other girl and yanked her up.

“What?” Elowen cried.

“Bomb,” Josh screamed, picking her and Melody up and then racing away, catching up with Cassandra and Arrabella and passing the old man. He dove into the vast crater left by the previous explosion, dropping the two girls at the bottom, turning, pulling Cassandra and Arabella down and then racing up the bank to rescue Harrogate before dumping him in the crater’s bottom and covering them all with his body.

A colossal explosion thumped the land of Mythelore, blasting everything in a fifty-yard radius to flatten most of the small village of Nestledown. Not that there was much left of it anyway. So-called Dragon-likes had incinerated a lot of the once peaceful settlement. Dragon-likes were a type of lizardman that could breathe fire. They boasted red scales, unlike their counterparts, the green caster lizards. Both had attacked Nestledown along with the gruntish gray lizardmen and the clearly-in-charge golden lizardmen priests. Why was a mystery that wouldn’t be solved from the bottom of a crater while being showered in the mud from the massive blast Elowen inadvertently triggered while hugging her old friend, Melody.

Josh pushed himself up, forcing the remnants of the Delaney dwelling and around a foot-thick layer of mud off his back. Fortunately, the alien ring on his finger enhanced his strength and durability. Otherwise, the weight of the explosion’s debris would have likely killed all those under him.

“Is everyone okay?” he asked. “Vella!” he called, panic coursing through him as he realized the elven healer and fourth member of his harem was missing.

“Fine,” Vella said from the crater’s edge, then cast heals and renews on everyone in the pit.

Relief washed over him as he looked straight up her short green skirt and copped an eyeful of her bald pussy. “How did you escape the blast?”

“You said, run, I ran. Vella fast runner.” She tossed a rope into the pit. “Found rope, too.”

Which was handy as the pit was at least twenty feet deep.

“Ladies,” said Josh. “Provided the Delaneys don’t blow us up again, I think we should all return to our wagons for a bath.”

The wagons Josh referred to weren’t ordinary wagons. They were three of the four specially commissioned wagons their monster-hunting guild, The Misfits, had received for completing a quest set by Simmalion of Elarathon. The three included Arabella and Josh’s carriage, which boasted a rather large bed, wardrobes, an enchanted bath, a table, a desk, and a sofa. It could pack all that in because it was larger inside than out, as was Elowen’s carriage. Called the Library, that one boasted dozens of bookshelves, a much larger desk, and a smaller bed, but it suited Elowen to a tee. Cassandra’s carriage was a more extravagantly gothic affair. Black, naturally, it had a lookout tower, a chimney and a fully working cauldron complete with anti-spill enchantments.

The fourth wagon was parked well away from the danger. It was so far away its owner, Thadius, was unaware of the recent events to befall the other Misfits. While Josh, Arabella, Cassandra, Elowen and Vella had ventured to Mythelore to seek out the Delaneys, Thadius had returned to their guild home in Endover with his new bride Simmalion. There, along with a band of fairies led by Lyra and Dinsy, they were busy establishing the guild and decorating their new lodge. Even if they had been close to Nestledown, they would have parked their carriage well away from the battlefield. Thadius was a stickler for that sort of thing. Fortunately, his subtle tutorage reinforced those values in Cassandra, Elowen and his daughter, Arabella. So, after Josh had run ahead to engage the lizards, they had all parked safely on the outskirts of the ruined village.

“So, what the fuck’s this all about?” Melody asked, still gawping at the extent of Arabella’s carriage. “This is even bigger than El’s cart.”

Melody scrubbed up well, although she picked and pulled at the shirt and pants she’d borrowed from Elowen. For some unknown reason, she still wore her round goggles, but she’d pushed them up to create a sort of hairband that kept her mousy bangs out of her oversized hazel eyes.

Arabella and Elowen explained most of what had happened to them of late. While they included some salient points, like how Candour, the King’s Justice, had hired them to kill the lizard nest, they left out others, like Josh killing all the cultist barons. They did tell her and her father about them killing the boars, the trolls, and the harpies on behalf of the Elarathon elves and about their new guildhall and the retainer. But they failed to mention the point of their mission, so Josh stepped in.

In truth, he was still a little pissed at the Delaneys for nearly blowing him up three times.

“We’re here because we want you to join us,” he said.

Melody looked him up and down, her lip curling.

“No,” she said.

“But you haven’t heard what we have to offer.”

“I can see. A huge bed and a bath. Look, no offense, big man, but I don’t want to join yer fucking harem. As far as I can see, you’ve got four beauties already. You should be happy with that.”

“And I don’t want to join, either,” said Harrogate, which Josh was quite happy about. He had that old man stink about him reminiscent of stale crisps and toes.

The old man hadn’t said much, but then he’d bathed in Cassandra’s carriage and still looked a little haunted. Cassandra had, naturally, been enjoying bath time with Arabella, Elowen, Vella and Josh, so it wasn’t down to her. Harrogate had mentioned something about the bats nesting in her lookout tower but had shivered and told everyone he didn’t want to discuss it further. It was almost certainly down to pet crease eel.

“I wasn’t asking if you wanted to join my harem,” Josh said patiently.

“Why? What the fuck’s wrong with me?” Melody asked.

A response which tongue-tied Josh momentarily. Fortunately, he still had his simmering anger to lean on.

“Let’s cut the shit. We just saved your lives from those lizardmen, so while I appreciate you might be in shock, and while I don’t want any thanks, you can cut the hostility.”

Melody stood, all five-feet-nothing of her. “How did you save our lives? Was it when you killed the lizardmen that we already had covered with a huge mine? Or was it when you triggered our first boobytrap that would have taken out another squad? Perhaps it might have been when you prevented them from following us out back where our ballista batteries might have shredded them?”

Josh pondered his response. She was right. The Delaneys were hardly defenseless peasants, but he was damned if he would admit it. “And what then? What would you have done when they rebuilt their portal and dragged more troops through?”

That response appeared to knock the wind out of Melody’s sails. “They can open portals?”

“Fascinating,” said Old Man Delaney.

“It’s why we need you to join us,” Josh said, softening his voice. “We believe in your theory, Mr. Delaney. We understand the Formula of Diminishing Adventurers.”

“You do?” Harrogate Delaney said.

“Yes. And we also understand the need to attack the monsters differently. Elowen joined us specifically to research, plan, and catalog the attacks. Arabella is our ranged attack. Cassandra, as you’ve gathered, is a magical damage dealer. Vella is our healer.”

“That’s me,” said Vella.

“What about you then?” Melody asked.

“I’m the tank.”

“The wha’?”

“Tank. I take the punishment and deal as much damage as I can. I face the beasts while the others attack from safety.”

“Fascinating,” said Harrogate. “Have you an example of this working?”

Elowen relayed the details of the troll attack where they boobytrapped the monster camp, then destroyed it and all the trolls from two hundred yards away.

“You killed all those trolls without losing a single soul?”

“Without getting a scratch,” Josh said. “We came closer to getting killed getting the glowroot and the bang-bang paste. That’s one of the reasons we need you two. You, Harrogate, for research and development. We want to base you at the lodge with Thadius. We have a barn you can use as a lab and a whole troupe of fairies that can gather your ingredients. I’ll need you, Melody, on the road helping us kill monsters. We’ll commission you a carriage—a mobile lab—and you’ll become our trapsmith.”

“And I can do that without becoming your wanksleeve?” Melody asked.

“Hey!” said Arabella. “I’m one of those… wanksleeves.”

“Me too,” said Vella.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Josh said, not warming to Melody Delaney.

“But I could blow shit up?”

“Blow it up, spear it, trip it, throttle it—you can do anything you like as long as it sits within our plan for dealing with that particular threat. I will not tolerate any lone-wolf actions. If you join us, you’re part of the team.”

“Do you have a terrace?” Harrogate asked. “Only I do enjoy a nice bottle of vintage Delaney at night while having a fat Harrogate.”

Josh creased his brow and looked at Melody for help.

“His wine is called Delaney and numbered by the year.”

“Sixteen sixty-six was a good year,” Harrogate mused.

“And he calls his cigars after himself. It’s a branding thing.”

“Oh,” said Josh. “Well, we have a terrace that overlooks a river. You can both have your own room at the lodge.”

“Thought you said I’d get a carriage?” Melody asked.

“You will, but you’ll be at the lodge when we're on downtime.”

“If it’s anything like this one, I’m in my carriage in the yard parked right by the river.”

“So, you’ll come?” Arabella said.

Melody shrugged. “We haven’t discussed money yet. Me and Dad have a good thing going here.”

Josh suspected they didn’t, seeing as they had no house, and he’d had to lend the old man a cloak. “We’re getting to grips with that. Elowen, you know the count for this mission.”

“I do. We have killed around thirty lizards and the six from the initial lizard fight. Call it thirty-five. We can hand the camp over to Candour in one piece, so we’ll get a bonus for that,” Elowen said. “So, that’s two gold a head, twenty-five for the camp.” She rolled her eyes and flicked her fingers up and down. “Ninety-five gold and a straight fifty for the baron-bonus. We just earned one-hundred and forty-five gold.”

“Plus getting retainer from Endover and the Stoneheart Guild,” Vella pointed out.

“Baron bonus?” Melody asked.

Josh cleared his throat. “A separate job to rid the world of several cultists.”

“Them scumbags,” Melody spat. “I wouldn’t get tired of stamping on those divisive fuckers.”

“Look,” Josh said. “I’m going to cut to the chase here. We’d love you to come with us, but we can drop you where you want if you don't. The lizards destroyed Nestledown, which’ll take the locals an age to rebuild. We can’t do anything about that, but the important thing here is learning from it. We have the portal stones. I’ve seen the design. If monsters can come and go as they please, things will get rough. The only way we’ll stop them is by—”

“Shutting the door,” Vella said.

“Exactly.”

Melody stared at him. “So, you’re not all about that fucking great excuse for a cock you call a sword.”

“Mels!” Arabella said. “That’s enough! He saved you and your father—put his body over you to protect you from the blast. Don’t be such a bitch. If you don’t want to join us, then don’t!”

“But then where would yous get your bang-bang paste?” she asked.

“If needs be,” said Josh, his eyes suddenly devoid of emotion. “I will return to the swamp and tear the place to pieces. I’ll kill every spider, every ugly toad and the bogart, and I’ll do it with a smile on my face. Then, I’ll harvest the glowroot and farm the bang-bang tree. Hell, I’ll plant a field of them.” He leaned forward, staring through her. “I don’t need you or your father. Consider the offer withdrawn. We’ll drop you where you want to go and call it a day.”

“Let’s not be too hasty—” said Harrogate.

“No!” Josh said, standing. “She’s been nothing but discourteous to me, Arabella, Elowen, Cassandra and Vella. The deal’s off. We go our own way. I’m sorry, Harrogate. We’re meeting Candour at Eldorwyn to get our gold. Up to you if you get dropped there or we call it quits here. It’s no skin off my nose.” He marched to the door. “Let’s get going.”

He jumped out of the carriage, the stench of burning still lingering in the trees.

“Fucking bitch,” he growled as he tethered the horses.

“Problems in the family?” Candour said, walking from the forest, his hat cocked and hand resting on his sword’s pommel.

“Not in my family, no.”

“Ah,” said Candour, a glint in his eye. “You have the Delaneys in there. That would explain it. Walk with me to my horse. I have your gold. I thought I’d save you the trip to Eldorwyn.”

“Met her then?” Josh asked, falling in step.

“A box of tricks, that’s putting it mildly. Calico pursued her for a long while. Even tried to force her into marriage. She’s had many suitors over the years but has denied them all.” He stopped. “Denied being the politest way to put it. Her hatred of Mythelorian men stems from how they treated her mother and father.” Candour shrugged. “Mother supposedly threw herself from the tallest tower in Califire. Couldn’t stand the ridicule. I suppose I could look into it, but why rake over cold coals?” He strode on, coming to his horse and rifling a saddlebag. He threw Josh a pouch. “One hundred and fifty gold. Elowen can run a ledger. I might be in credit. I might owe a little, but there has to be some trust between us.”

Josh pocketed the gold. “I’ll have the books done.”

“Do, please. We can discuss further dealings at Califire.”

“But I’m not going to Califire. I’m going back to Endover.”

Candour squeezed his face into a pained expression. “You see, that doesn’t work for me. I have no idea where you came from, Josh, but I know where your power comes from.” He glanced at the ring. “Remember, I know all about you. You, however, know very little about me. My power comes from getting things done. The King needs a new monster slayer, and you are it.”

“But I’ve signed an agreement with Endover.”

“How nice for you. So, Califire, please. You can play hero to the elves, but you will become the King’s new Slayer.”

“Or what?”

“Are you aware how peace negotiations work?” Candour asked.

“Here? No.”

“It’s simple. We mass an army on our neighbor’s border, then sue for peace. If we get it, then everyone goes home. If we don’t, then the killing starts. If I must take Endover to retain your services, I will do that.”

“You’d invade the Elven Lands?”

“If I did, I’d become a hero overnight, Josh. They’d write books about me. Bards would sing songs about my deeds.” He turned his horse. “Remember, I get things done. Whatever it takes.”

Chapter Two

“I GET IT, HARROGATE,” Josh said, looking across the table at the old man’s sad face. “Not everything works out. I don’t do drama, and your daughter is drama. I’ll live. You’ll live. We go our own way.”

“He’ll do it, you know,” Harrogate said, appearing to have his own conversation.

Josh stared around the empty carriage. The bed looked enormous without Arabella and Vella on it—just like his sword standing in the corner. Everything about the carriage was over the top. But then, that was the point, wasn’t it? He had comfort—luxury even—as befitting a monster slayer.

“Candour?” Josh asked. “He doesn’t strike me as the sort of person to make idle boasts. Why do you think I agreed to go to Califire?”

“He won’t need to invade, and he certainly can’t afford for the play to go wrong.”

“Why?” Josh raised an eyebrow.

“The King has a standing army of four hundred men. He'll need ten times those numbers to wage war on the elves. Even then, an invading army will take more casualties than a defending one, and by massing on their border, he’s given them time to prepare. Neither the King nor Candour want war, so why are the troops all in the south?”

Josh squeezed his face up. “I hadn’t thought why.”

Harrogate clapped his hands together. “They are in the south because the instant the cultists announced themselves, they’d have found themselves in a war with a prepared army. What Candour didn’t anticipate was that all the nonsense with the stone colossus might be true, and an evil sorcerer was waking. Fortunately, he was unaware you existed, although I’d wager he did know Thadius was in the vicinity. Candour is not telling you everything.”

Josh poured them both a glass of wine. “How so?”

“He didn’t just happen to be in Eldorwyn. Not a chance. When you all vanished from Elrima, I’ll bet he scouted every village looking for you. There’s no way he could let a powerful sorceress and an invincible warrior slip through his hands.”

“No,” said Josh. Harrogate’s insight was refreshing, even if it did grind on him. “And now he’s using my fondness for the elves against me.”

“But why not take the commission? What have you got to lose?”

Josh grunted. “I can’t be in two places at once.”

“No, but nor could Calico. One man—one team—can’t kill every monster. My theory tells you that. Training, Josh, training is the key, along with your ability to negotiate. You need a dozen wizards and the same number of swords, tanks and healers. Teams, you need teams. Since you mentioned them, they’ve been on my mind constantly.”

“It’s not all about the people. It’s the equipment, too. That’s where you and Melody would have come in.”

Harrogate sighed. “Yes, it’s a damn shame. Some folk just aren’t meant to be part of a team. Too short a fuse, just like her mother.”

“What happened there? If you don’t mind me asking. Candour said she jumped—”

“She was pushed,” Harrogate said, his whole body tensing. He sighed, the fight instantly leaving his body. “I’ll believe that until I die. But I have no proof. It’s why Melody is like she is. She carries the burden of wonder."

"The burden of wonder?”

“Could she have prevented it? She’ll trust no one and suspect everyone is up to no good. I think the only time I’ve seen her truly happy to see anyone was when she spotted Arabella and Elowen.”

“Yeah, well, that soured pretty quickly.” Josh drained his wine. “Still, not to worry. We’ll get around it. Farming bang-bang trees is much safer than tackling your daughter’s temper.”

“Agreed.” Harrogate poured himself some more wine. “Tell me about this Ravenheart. You mentioned him briefly.”

“The harpies first dropped his name. They told me he’d run them out of the Hangsane.”

“You spoke to the harpies?”

Josh tilted his head one way then the other. “More, they talk to me. They’d tied me to a post and were deciding whether to screw me or boil me and eat me. I did my best to keep them talking while recovering from their poisoning. Best I can describe Ravensheart as is some sort of monster that eats raven’s hearts, but they were mighty scared of him, so I doubt they’ve ventured close to his lair. Then, from what Vella says, the Hangsane is packed full of powerful monsters. She says the further in you travel, the more powerful they become.”

“Fascinating—and something I always wondered. The Hangsane is in the south, and that is where the power resides. Northern beasts have always been weaker. Perhaps there is a gradient. Which would then beg the question, Why?” He smacked his lips together. “So, we know mana concentrations increase the further south we go. Is mana linked to power, and does that make humans weaker than any other species?”

“Vella says there are two ingredients. There is Mana”—Josh pointed to his head—“which is stored here, and there is Vigor, which is stored around the heart. Mana is magical, produced by life, while vigor is manufactured by sunlight, geothermal energy, that sort of thing.”

“So, we could theorize that the further north we go, the higher the vigor, and the further south, the greater the mana concentration.” He held up his hand. “Just theorizing—nothing else. If that were true, somewhere along that line is a perfectly balanced monster.”

“Or, somewhere in the Hangsane.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Nothing. Just a feeling.”

“Perhaps more?” He grinned. “I haven’t known you long, but I think you always have a reason.”

“Sprite,” Josh said. “Vella showed me sprites appearing from nowhere, then vanishing back there. I looked behind them and saw vast mountains through their portal.”

“Perhaps,” said Harrogate. “I always thought the monsters had to come from this land.”

“Why?”

“Fish, mostly.” He chuckled. “A fish dies out of water. If a monster came from somewhere else, it’s out of its pond. Surely it would die? At least, some of them would. Yet, you never hear of a single monster crashing into existence only to fall flat on its face and die. That tells me this place is just another part of their pond.”

Josh stretched, dismounting the carriage and stamping his feet. “Feels good. I’m even enjoying the sour taint to the air.”

“See,” said Arabella. “I told you you’d hate being on the road constantly.”

“But this is what I like! I’m seeing a new village, and for once, quite a quaint one.”

“Renshaw,” Melody said. “It’s a stopover point on the Califire Road. So it’s farms, blacksmiths, stables, trading posts, all the usual crap, but with an extra large tavern to house travelers. Here, I drew this for you.” She handed him a note. “Thought you could do with something bigger for airborne threats. It’s a carriage-mounted ballista. Whoever made these wagons is quite capable of building it.”

Josh unfolded it as Melody disappeared into the tavern. The detailed drawings brought a smile to his lips. It would be the perfect addition to his arsenal. He hadn’t considered artillery, but now that she’d drawn the ballista, he couldn’t help but wonder if a cannon wouldn’t work better. He’d need their powder, of course. But just because they weren’t going to be part of the Misfits, it didn’t mean they couldn’t be suppliers.

“Do you think you could get us rooms and sort everything out? I want to sketch an idea up quickly.”

Arabella grinned, a sparkle in her eyes. “Of course,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the bar.”

He dove back into the cart, sitting at the desk and smoothing a sheet of paper out. He tried to recall how a cannon worked. The principle was pretty simple. It consisted of a solid iron tube sealed at one end with a hole in the other. Then had some sort of channel to dribble the fuse powder in, and as far as he could recall, that was that. He remembered wadding played a part but couldn’t recall why. His drawing looked like it should receive a D-minus, but it did the trick. He went in search of the Delaneys.

The tavern was a homely spit-and-sawdust affair that came complete with the murmur of its many guests and the stares that followed any newcomer. The girls had a commandeered a table in the corner, with Cassandra sitting close to Vella, glaring at any who dared pay the elf too much attention. Harrogate and Melody sat opposite the girls, leaving two chairs free, one right by Melody.

Josh sat, picking up a large pitcher of ale and pouring himself a mug. He left a space between him and the trapsmith, allowing her room. She’d made it plain that she didn’t care for him, so he didn’t want to encroach.

“I like the idea of the ballista,” he said. “We would call that light artillery where I come from.” He unfolded his drawing. “This would be heavy artillery. It uses gunpowder to launch a projectile rather than a string, and if the barrel has some rifling, it spins the ball and gives it more accuracy.” He slid it across. “I’ll have yours made as soon as we return to Endover.”

Melody grabbed the drawing and began pawing over it. She traced a line along the barrel, pausing at the fuse, then retracing it. “How does it work?” she asked, sliding across.

“I’m working on vague memories, but I think it was like this. You pour in some gunpowder—”

“Gunpowder?”

“The bang-bang powder. Thadius said you and your dad had made some, and—”

“Black powder.”

“That, yes. So, you pour a certain amount in, then rod it and pack it down the bottom of the barrel. Then you put some straw in, or wadding, I think they called it. Pack that all down, roll a ball in, and that’s the barrel loaded. After that, you tip some more powder in the fuse hole, light it and put your fingers in your ears.”

She retraced the steps with her fingers, muttering away, then slid across to her father, who did much the same.

“Mounted on a cart?” she asked.

“Yes. There’s something about recoil that you have to take into account. As the powder explodes, it’ll eject the ball at speed and put pressure on the back of the tube, so it will lurch back, too.”

“Got it,” Melody said. She fished in her pocket and brought out some paper scraps and a tiny pencil. “Recoil?”

“Recoil,” Josh affirmed.

“What’s the plan for Califire?” Elowen asked as Melody and Harrogate began whispering together.

“Plan?”

“Shouldn’t we plan different outcomes like when we hunt?”

“Not sure. The King will ask us to be his monster-slayers. I’ve thought about that quite a bit. Thadius should have always been the King’s hunter, so all we are doing is taking back what’s rightly his. Harrogate’s right, a few well-organized teams should do it.”

“I vote we screw them for everything they’ve got,” Cassandra said.

“We could. After Elrima and the lizardmen, our reputation is probably good. Add the trolls, boars, and harpies, and we have a decent track record. I think we play hardball. The wizards will give shit,” Josh said.

“Then I’ll turn them into turds,” Cassandra said.

“Toads,” Melody said, looking up.

“No, turds.”

“Let’s say you don’t,” Josh said. “Let’s say we agree to train a team to protect the capital. Everything will rest on their wizards. If they’re no good, the ranged will be ineffective against the monster. We need the firepower of good wizards, or it all falls apart.”

“Hold that thought,” Melody said, flattening a new piece of paper and scribbling. “Dum-dum arrows.” She slid it over to him. “Explode on impact. That’ll upgrade Arabella’s contribution.”

“You can make these?”

“With a workshop.” She slid the cannon back. “It’ll need a vent. Otherwise, the fuse will go out. We’ll have to judge this recoil as we go, but then we’ll have to experiment with the size of the ball, its weight and the amount of gunpowder.”

“The barrel,” Harrogate said. “We will have to cast it in two pieces. Iron would be a good metal to use, but bronze would weather better.”

“You won’t need to cast it,” Cassandra said. “Get me enough metal, and I’ll make it for you. It’s just a matter of imagining it right then casting the spell. Nothing to it, really.”

“Is there not?” Harrogate drew in a breath. “A ferrumerge—you are one of them—the possibilities are endless.”

“I’m not so restricted to iron anymore,” Cassandra told him. “Still have a little difficulty with silver, but I’m getting there.”

“More a metal savant, then,” Harrogate observed.

“Something along those lines.”

“If we use iron, we could get Femil and Asril to make them. One can do the wood, and the other could form the barrel and fixings.” Josh sat back, tapping the table. “We’re wasting our time here.”

“There is the small matter of who we trust with these weapons,” Harrogate said.

“Trust?” Josh asked.

“Indeed. If we produce these and station a few in the capital, what’s to stop the army from using them? If they kill monsters, they’ll kill humans or elves several times more effectively. We could make it a very dangerous land.”

“I’ll think of something,” said Josh. “The cannon won’t work without the powder, and you’re the only one who can make it. If it stays that way, then there’s no danger.”

Harrogate leaned across Melody. “But I’m not the only alchemist in Mythelore, am I?”

Chapter Three

LIGHTNING STRUCK THE ESTUARY. Rain fell in heavy sheets, pushed inland by a mighty wind. Josh sat on Cassandra’s cart, looking out from under her charm.

“I do like being an aeromancer. There’s something quite satisfying about controlling the surrounding environment,” she mused.

Josh had to admit the calm bubble they were inside appeared infinitely more comfortable compared to the stormy outside. He could barely make out Califire. The city sprawled across a grand river that emptied into a gray, stormy sea. But the levels seemed all wrong. There was too much sea and not enough Califire. He inclined his head, but it made no difference. Something was awry.

“Does the city look wrong to you?” He narrowed his eyes, trying to see further, perhaps even across the river to its other bank.

“I can’t see a bridge,” Cassandra said. “Don’t large cities perched on rivers normally have bridges?”

Arabella climbed aboard, dipping into their bubble. “Why’s the city getting bigger?”

Josh squinted again. “It is, isn’t it?” Califire grew like it rose from the murky, white-capped water. A ball of dread appeared in Josh’s gut as the dawn of realization began to break. “Something terrible has happened.”

As he spoke, Cassandra pointed. “What the fuck is that?”

“Where?” Josh asked. “Oh, there,” he said immediately.

While hazy, the gigantic black blob rose from the estuary, becoming increasingly visible as it took up more and more of the river. It was enormous, spreading from the seaward edge of the city to the distant coast.

“That is a leviathan,” said Elowen, climbing aboard and pushing Cassandra along as she attempted to squeeze on the end. “A big fucking leviathan.”

Elowen wasn’t big on cursing, but seeing a giant monster wipe out an entire city merited it in Josh’s book.

“Makes my sword look like a toothpick.”

Candour pulled to a halt, his mount skidding in the mud. “Do something!”

Josh couldn’t recall ever seeing the man lose his cool. “Let him in, Cassandra.”

The witch opened a way into their weather bubble, closing it as soon as Candour had entered.

“Not sure what you expect me to do against that from here,” he told the King’s Justice. “But, in case you hadn’t noticed, that thing is a good half a mile long and parked up in the river. Now, I’m no expert, but I think it will splash down in a moment, open its gigantic maw and then eat all that gets swept into the backwash.”

As if the monster were obeying Josh, it did just that. Having risen partially above the river level, it crashed down, causing a massive surge to sweep upriver, over the still-draining banks, and engulf the city. Its vast maw opened, accepting all the Califire had to offer, ingesting the water and flushing it from a couple of large gill-like flaps on its side.

“Quite efficient, really,” Arabella pointed out.

“Can’t you do anything?” Candour raged. “Are you useless?” He glared at Cassandra. “I thought you were the harmonic! I thought you, Josh, were something special. That’s the King down there! Do something, you cretin!”

Josh closed his eyes, measuring his response. He found the man’s rudeness intolerable. He might not have been able to hit Melody Delaney when she pissed him off, but the same didn’t apply to Candour. So he knocked him out.

“Was that necessary?” asked Melody as she appeared by Arabella.

“It’s what I wanted to do to you,” he growled.

She scratched her head, scrunching her face up. “The wanksleeve remark?”

“Yup.”

“Fair,” she said. “Overstepped with that one. But I’ll bet I got the small-cock-big-sword one right.”

“No, darling,” said Cassandra. “You got that one very, very wrong.”

“Oh,” said Melody with a quirk of her eyebrows.

“Put him in my carriage,” Cassandra said. “I’ll have Bobby watch him. If he wakes, she’ll call.”

A couple of things regarding Cassandra’s remarks didn’t quite add up, but Josh ignored them and picked Candour up, holding his jaw to Vella so she could heal it before skirting Harrogate and climbing into the witch’s gloomy carriage. A dozen pairs of variously colored eyes stared out from the walls and lookout tower. He ignored all, as well as the squeak when he set Candour down on the bed and rushed back out to watch the show.

“Did I miss anything?” he asked.

“It’s rising again,” Cassandra told him.

“Should we try some magic to see if it affects it?” Elowen asked, shrinking a little when they all stared at her. “We are going to try and kill it at some point, aren’t we?” she added.

Which was a good question.

The leviathan chose that moment to pull its tentacles from the depths of the river and sweep a couple of hundred more houses into its hungry mouth. A lightning bolt forked down, hitting the beast and sliding off its black skin.

“Takes lightning bolts okay,” Cassandra observed. “I’ll shelve that idea.”

“You could offer it a virgin, but I doubt you’ll find one around here,” Harrogate quipped.

“Hey!” said Melody. “I’m a—” She gawped. “No, I’m not,” she said quickly.

The leviathan settled back under the river’s surface with one final rise and fall.

“Not sure I’ve been a monster hunter long enough to take on a beast like that,” Josh admitted. “But, let’s say, hypothetically, that we were going to, how would one go about it?”

“That,” said Arabella, “is a point we should discuss over dinner. We can forget about a nice tavern and a bed and focus on finding a good site.”

“I’d suggest one away from the river,” Harrogate said.

“Has anyone seen Vella?” Josh asked.

“You all find a place to make a camp. I’ll go find her.” Josh jumped from the bench, grabbing his sword and strapping it to his back. “She won’t have gone far, and I have party mode on, so as soon as she’s in range, I’ll pick her up.”

He left the bubble, dipping his head against the torrential rain and heading along the road toward the ruins of Califire. The stone and mud trail shimmered as more lightning fell. The thunder's growl came later, telling him the storm was moving out to sea. The synchronicity didn’t escape him, and the thought that the storm and the leviathan might be somehow linked crossed his mind.

If it was a typical monster, what kind of portal did it come through? It had to be huge, or there had to be another way. Perhaps monsters were a thing in Mythelore and not all portaled in. Whatever else had happened, things had changed. His challenges had become immeasurably larger.

The road snaked down between sodden pastures, a typical Mythelorian drystone wall lining it. Sheep sheltered in stone lean-tos. Cows lay under stands of oak. The rain eased slightly, clouds breaking, and moonlight poked through. But it didn’t improve things. A vista of utter devastation lay before him. Buildings lay broken, timber uprights sticking out at odd angles—roofs peeled back. He came to the extent of the floodwater and stepped around a ridge of dead fish, weed and debris. The stench of briney destruction filled his lungs, and his shoulders sagged a little.

A feeling of utter uselessness flowed through him. Since Elrima, he’d felt powerful, utterly dominant to all around him, but as he paused before the leviathan’s power, he understood how far he had to go. He stepped forward, hearing groaning, the pathetic whimper of desolation. A woman knelt by a man’s corpse, cradling his head.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She sawed at her lip and then nodded. “Yes. The elf healed me.”

“Head up to the trees when you can. Find my group. We’ll feed you.”

She nodded, then returned her attention to the man, her sobs haunting Josh as he moved on.

That scene repeated, its frequency increasing as the devastation became utter. Then, like he’d reached the ridge that signaled the start of the destruction, it ended. Where Califire should have been, only mud was left. He’d come to the point where the leviathan had brushed all into its maw with its giant tentacles. He fell to his knees, forgetting Vella momentarily as the burden of the capital’s destruction perched on his shoulders.

His vision misted red, pulsing with urgency. At first, he scanned the calming river, its surface brushed with moonlight. He sensed no threat there. His heart stopped, breaths coming in spasms as his mind slowly kicked back into action. Vella—it had to be Vella. Rising, he tore his backpack off, drawing his mighty sword in one fell swoop. He turned toward the deepest part of the red warning, setting his jaw in a grim line and stomping toward a ruined house.

The door rested on the remnants of a front deck. He kicked it out of the way as Vella’s high-pitched voice became audible, and a male voice growled.

“Must heal!”

“Fuck her. You’re coming with me.”

“No!”

“Get here, girl. You’re coming with me.”

“Yeah, you’re coming with us!” another man said, this one more letch that growl. “We’re gonna keep you real warm. Must be cold in that skimpy get-up.”

“Catch her, Tommy,” said the first.

“Got it, boss,” a third voice said.

“She’s healing the woman, then coming with me.” Josh kept his voice calm. He held his sword up and ready, facing the small gang. Vella had her back against a wall. A woman lay at her feet, her clothes shredded and body broken. He narrowed his eyes, her dress peculiar—too black for an ordinary peasant. Her skin was dark, rich, not black, but close.

Four men turned at once, facing Josh, all regarding his giant sword. The largest stepped forward, seemingly unphased by the weapon.

“And what the fuck do you think you’re going to do with that bloody great thing in here?” He picked up an iron bar. “That’s the trouble with you dickless knights. You think size matters. This is the street, son, not some poncy battlefield where you all line up in your skirts.”

“Yeah,” said his wiry number two, clearly not so eloquent as his boss.

There was a spark about them. They were no brainless goons like he’d once fought on a bridge in Elrima. Each slowly moved into position, ready to jump him. Growly stepped closer, his confidence growing as Josh appeared to hesitate.

"Come on, son. Hand the sword over. You want the elf? Take her. We don’t want no twig. Was just gonna have a bit of fun then toss her to the monster.” His eyes widened. “It’s still there, you know, lurking in the Murkway.”

Skinny had stepped to one side. Another, a broad bull of a man gradually circled behind Josh. He subliminally named him Stumpy. The last, Sharpface, hung back, his eyes darting everywhere.

He’ll wait for an opening, then strike.

“This too big?” Josh finally said, waving his sword.

“Heal,” Vella cast her heal on the woman, kneeling over her.

“Way too big,” Growly said, holding his bar in both hands as Skinny drew a knife.

“Then what say I put it down and even things up?” Josh asked, smiling cooly but letting menace drip through.

“You’d lose your first-strike advantage, but that’s all.”

“You military?” Josh asked.

“Militia—same thing without the money, uniform, weapons and training.”

“And you want to lose your life here instead of seizing an opportunity out there?”

Skinny laughed. “Haven’t you heard the legends? That monster isn’t going anywhere. It’ll wait until the place is back up, then strike again.”

“Yer,” said Growly. “Califire’s done. The King’s dead, and Mythelore’s over. It’s each for themselves now, and I want your sword.”

Josh set it on the floor, his gaze locked on Growly’s. “You’re right. Its size is a disadvantage here.” His hand lingered on its hilt. “But then, it’s not the only weapon I have.” He drew his boot knife, flicking it straight at Skinny. Before it landed, he lurched for Growly, grabbing the iron bar and snapping it out of the big man’s grasp. He slid his hands down to its end, grasping it like a bat and swung it straight at the man’s jaw.

Growly threw his arm up to fend off the iron bar. Josh drove it through the man's arm, snapping the bone easily. But the arm did its job, blocking the bar from shattering Growly’s jaw. Nevertheless, the thug went down on one knee, grabbing his ruined arm and screaming.

Josh turned to face Stumpy. “You ready, son?”

Stumpy let out a scream, rushing him like a bull. Josh stepped back, his enhanced speed and agility giving him plenty of time to pull his swing back, angle his shoulders and unleash a colossal strike on the muscleman. The bar connected with Stumpy’s head, a strike that only one could win. The brute’s head changed shape, morphing from boxlike to a tall, oval shape, from which white and red gloop exploded. Momentum carried his headless corpse on, its mass bowling into Josh as he completed his backswing. Caught off balance, Josh crashed backward, the bar flying from his hands as he tripped over something and fell to the sodden floor, Stumpy’s corpse landing on top of him, spewing blood everywhere.

Sharpface was on him in an instant. He plunged a short sword straight for Josh’s gut.

“Scale armor!” Josh shouted, grabbing the blade and slowing its advance. Surprise flickered over Sharpface's expression as Josh gripped the sword. “Should have sharpened it,” he growled as his armor encased his torso and head. “Now who’s fucked.” He rose, pushing the blade and its wielder back. “Gonna have your fun with both of them, were you?” Josh grabbed the blade with his other hand and snapped it in half.

“Who the fuck are you, man?” Sharpface asked.

“I’m the King’s monster slayer, and right now, you’re the monster in front of me.”

“Hold it right there!” Growly shouted, drawing Josh’s attention.

The man’s arm hung limp at his side, but his other held a knife at Vella’s throat. “How about a little one of those heals, darling?”

Vella bit her lip. “Can’t,” she said. “Run out.”

The knife bit at her neck. “Then you’re gonna die, Twig.”

Josh readied, but a movement caught his eye, giving him pause. “How about I do you a deal,” he said. “I’ve killed one of yours. Skinny’s a gonna too if she’s run out of mana. Yer man here’s about to die, just doesn’t know it yet, and you’re not in a good shape. The instant you kill her, three things are going to happen. First, I’m going to punch Sharpface so hard his head will hit his ass. Second, I’m gonna stamp on Skinny’s head, and that’ll end him. Third, I’m gonna take my time with you, fucker, because you would have killed one of my wives, and that’s unforgivable. So, here’s the deal. You let her go, and you die quickly like the other two.”

Growly managed a grunt of a laugh. “You just signed her death sentence.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Josh said as he punched Sharpface and stamped on Skinny’s head.

Growly dropped to his knees, the knife falling from his hand as he tried to stop blood belching from a line across his throat.

“My name is Silexa Gray. Who might you be?” the woman said, pulling her black hood up.

Chapter Four

“SO,” said Josh, munching on the last of his bread while still marveling at the weather bubble Cassandra held in place with no seeming effort. “If we wanted to kill that beast, how would we do it?”

He warmed his hands on the central fire. The three wagons made a lovely backdrop for their camp, almost homely. They had their camping down to a fine art. First, they’d find a nice clearing. Cassandra would use her geomancy to make it neat and flat. Josh would add them all to his party so he’d be alerted to any threat that came their way, and then Cassandra would add privacy and weather enchantments as needed. Arabella would hunt while Vella began cooking the meal. Elowen escaped all chores as her task was to update their daily diary and detail any monsters encountered or powers discovered.

“My arrows are out,” Arabella admitted.

“As is my sword,” Josh said.

“My lightning won’t work,” Cassandra mourned.

The three admissions resulted in an awkward silence until Josh suggested hydromancy. “What about that?”

“Darling, I love you, you know that. But what about it screams ‘I’m drowning!’?” Cassandra asked.

“I was more thinking the other way. You force the river to stop flowing, hold the sea back and beach it. It might suffocate to death then.”

“How do fish breathe?” Arabella asked.

Fortunately, everyone ignored her as their attention switched to Cassandra.

“Just say I could do that. How much power would it take? Plus, where would all the river water go as it built up? What about the sea? If I judged it right and the tide was going out, fair enough. I’d have half a chance, but—” She sighed. “No. I can’t imagine being able to do it—butterfly effect and all.”

“That again!” Elowen rolled her eyes.

“We could blow the fucker up,” Melody said.

It was her answer to everything, and usually, it was a good one. Blowing things up was preferential to getting in a monster’s face.

They’d worked on the cannon design as they’d travelled to Califire and had nailed it. While Josh couldn’t recall the exact schematics of a cannon, the Delaney’s version looked pretty damn close. So, they were one cannon away from blowing monsters up, but he doubted whether they’d have a cannon big enough for the sea monster.

“How?” he asked.

“Well,” she said, springing up and pushing her goggles further up her forehead. “We’ve seen its attack. While we missed the initial slaughter, we witnessed what appeared to be a rhythm—rise, fall, flood, open maw, filter.”

“And where there’s predictability, there’s a weakness,” Harrogate added.

“So—” Melody grabbed a stick from the fire and drew two lines in the mud. “We’ve seen its modus operandi. We know it positions its maw by the coastal edge of the city. We need a big boat packed full of explosives anchored upriver. The instant the leviathan appears, we light the fuse, weigh anchor and let the beast do the rest. If we get it right, the bomb enters the monster’s maw, explodes, and blows the fucker to bits.”

Which, Josh thought, was quite brilliant.

Apart from the obvious.

“Yeah, the issue is we have no idea where it will attack again or when,” he said.

“And it’s a dead city in a matter of hours,” Arabella added.

“If you’re going fishing, you need bait,” Harrogate said cryptically, but no one took any notice of him.

Elowen hesitated. “Do you think I should disturb her?”

“Who?” Arabella asked.

“What do you mean, who? The strange woman asleep in my bed.”

“Pfft,” said Cassandra. “At least she’s a hottie. I’ve got that old crumb Candour in mine, and he’s going to wake up pissed that we didn’t save a day that was already lost.”

“It’s going to be morning soon. Perhaps we should start making plans,” Arabella said.

“This place is fucked,” Melody said. “But I think I’ll stick around and see if I can’t help.”

“We need to know more about the leviathan.” Josh stood. “One of the thugs—can’t remember which—said it would hang around—go dormant until the city grew again. For all we know, it’s not the first time it’s attacked.”

“Which is why I need to get to my carriage. The adventurer’s guild has potted histories of monster encounters. If the leviathan has struck before, then it’ll be in there somewhere.”

“Are we pulling an all-nighter?” he asked.

“Can’t see the point in going to bed, especially seeing as strangers are taking up two,” Arabella said. She stood. “I’ll go hunt some game. They’re always groggy just before dawn.”

“I’ll gather up some wood and build a bigger fire. We’ll have some survivors make their way up here as soon as it’s light. Might as well give them something to aim for,” Josh said.

“I’ll fashion a pit for it and see if I can make some shelter. I could topple a few trees if that would make it easier for you.” Cassandra stood.

Josh nodded. “I’ll get my axe.”

“You chop. I’ll pull it to the pit,” Melody said.

“I renew,” said Vella, and she cast a renew on everyone. “Can you pull energy from tree for me?”

Cassandra furrowed her brow. “Energy?”

“Vigor. You can pull vigor, give to me, and I give to everyone.”

“Darling, I’ll give it a go, but I’m not sure I can.”

“Try.”

Josh retrieved his axe from his wagon, eyeing his bed, imagining laying on it, and closing his eyes. He sighed. In a world where things appeared to go tits-up regularly, the destruction of the capital was a huge hiccup.

Cassandra had felled one of the trees by the time he left the carriage. She’d also formed an enormous firepit fifty yards away from their wagons and was busy burrowing into the hillside and creating shelters for the survivors. As he swung his axe to strip the first trunk, morning broke over the sea. He took a few moments between strikes to scan the horizon for signs of the leviathan, but his gaze always rested back on the estuary. If it were there, he would kill it.

“You want to kill it, don’t you?” Melody asked as she rested her boot on the trunk. “Ever wondered why?”

“Because it killed so many folks? Won’t that do?”

“Plenty of them have more skin in the game than you. Most would be happy to bugger off and never see the place again. You?” She creased her face. “No. I see that hungry look in your eyes. You just want to kill it, but it ain’t the glory. There’s something else.” She shrugged and dragged a branch into the fire pit.

He watched her, then picked up the axe, not stopping until he’d stripped it.

“Where do you come from?” Melody asked, sitting on the trunk.

“South,” he said noncommittally.

“Not true. You’re not from Mythelore. You say odd things—things that don’t make any sense but are instinctive to you. It tells me that Mythelorian isn’t your first language. So, south where? The Hangsane? Farther?”

He scoffed. “Let’s just say south. It doesn’t matter. We’re parting ways, remember?”

“No, no, we’re not. We have no choice but to stick together. You can’t beat this without me and Dad.” She indicated the river and ruins. “They’re coming for us. I can feel it in my gut. The monsters are coming, and someone has to stop them.”

He glanced at her. “Let me make something clear. We’ll be fine without you and your father. We work as a unit. You disrupt that. Harmony is more important than a few contraptions.”

“But they’d help,” she said.

“Yes.”

“Then we need to work on getting on. How about I don’t insult you? Would that help?”

Josh kicked at the damp grass. “It’s not about that. I’m not so shallow that I can’t take someone taking the piss out of me. It’s the way you demeaned Arabella and the others. You don’t seem to understand what we have. They aren’t just my wank—”

“I know,” she said. “I lashed out. I have my reasons. Look, I love Arabella and Elowen like sisters. I didn’t know you, but you cut a certain stereotype. You’re Calico all over again, and I didn’t want that for them.”

“We’re good together,” Josh said. “The five of us are good together.”

“Yeah,” she said, then offered him her hand. “We work together and get the fucker that did this. How about that?”

“Deal.”

“Best get on. Looks like we have company.”

Josh followed her pointed finger. A dark line of refugees snaked toward the blazing fire.

“They’ll need feeding. I’d best tell Arabella and Vella.”

“I’ll do it. You carry on with the wood.”

“I have an apology to make,” Candour said, clicking his jaw in and out. “I lost my cool. Trust me, it doesn’t happen very often.”

“Accepted.” Josh didn’t want the apology anyway. The man had done nothing wrong—just cared for his people.

Candour grunted as they walked through the camp, fear-filled, upturned eyes following them. Vella flitted between the survivors, giving them bowls of steaming broth and healing or renewing them. Harrogate had organized some working parties. A few scoured the ruins of Califire searching for tools, clothes, bedding—anything that might make the following days more tolerable. Others felled trees with Cassandra’s help, extending her burrows and making lean-tos. Some hunted and gathered. The old man was organized and efficient, but his words lacked punch. Cassandra had no such problems. One glare and a slight shift of her hands motivated them to move pretty quickly.

“You’ll be a hero for this,” Candour said. “Most would have upped sticks and gone.”

“The beast’s still in there.” Josh pointed at the estuary. “I know it is. I feel it.” He paused. “Where was the King’s castle? Do you know he’s dead? Are you sure?”

Candour inhaled, the breath whistling through his teeth. “I forget you’ve never been here before. The castle sat on an island in the middle of the estuary. Two bridges linked it to either bank. It was quite an efficient set-up. Every peddler who passed through had to pay their tax, or we turned them around. His castle sat on it.” Candour exhaled. “Both are gone.”

“Perhaps he wasn’t on it?”

“He rarely left it. Where do you think my power came from? He ruled his little island. The rest was up to me.”

Josh puffed his chest up, standing with his hands on his hips. “Then I guess that means you’re the new King,” he said.

Candour cocked his head. “I suppose it does, at least until the Lords and Ladies begin fighting each other.”

“Sendor will back you. The rest I haven’t a clue about.”

“All will back me if I slay this monster,” he said.

“Will they back you if I slay it?”

Candour smacked his lips together. “That, Mr. Underwood, is the same thing. I appointed you the King’s Slayer. Nothing has changed.”

“So, what are we facing?” Josh asked Elowen as they all sat around the table in his carriage.

A pile of books sat in front of her with dozens of notes scattered around. “We face a magnificent beast,” she said. “It’s not good. Leviathans have struck both Mythelore and the Elven Lands, Alianthia, before. Each time, the city or town has been destroyed, rebuilt and destroyed again. They find their target and milk it. What’s years to us is a blink in the eye to them.”

“How long?” Josh asked.

Elowen shrugged. “No one knows. As far as I can tell, once they stop rebuilding the stricken settlement, the leviathan leaves. Once a leviathan claims an estuary, it is abandoned until the monster is forgotten.”

“So,” said Harrogate. “We can be fairly sure that the creature is still there, just entering a new phase of hibernation having sated itself.”

“Yes,” said Elowen. “Everything I’ve read tells me that the leviathan has destroyed Califire before. There was even a text that inferred the island in the middle of the river was part of it.”

Arabella stopped twirling her pencil. “Then why did they build on it?”

Harrogate chuckled. “I can answer that. No one takes notice of the mad rantings of folk who tell them unpleasant truths. What was once well-known becomes a story over time. I’ll bet a ferry began crossing the river. When nothing happened, they built a few dwellings. Before you know it—a settlement springs up.”

“This is the busiest trade route between the south and north,” Elowen said. “A little upriver and the marshes make it impassable; before you know it, you’re in the western mountains. This is the most logical place to build a city. The beast isn’t stupid. It’s picked its spot well.”

“Sum up?” Cassandra said. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m knackered. What say we call it a day.”

“I’m with you,” said Arabella. “Vella’s renewed me so much I think I have vigor sickness.”

“Before we finish, is there any indication that we can wake it?” Josh asked.

“One,” said Elowen. “There was one adventurer. Let me find the text.” She skimmed through five or six books. “Here it is. Alessandro de Vant. He attempted to kill a small leviathan in an estuary north of here near a tin mining community. He tried several methods to attempt to rouse it.”

“Go on,” Cassandra said.

“He tried baiting it with dead cows and sheep. He even used the human corpses, weighing them down like he was fishing. When that didn’t work, he had a geomancer pound the earth and send ripples through the estuary’s bed. A hydromancer caused great whirlpools, and a pyromancer tried to make the water boil. Only one wizard managed to do anything.”

“Who?”

“A wizard who specialized in naturalism called Denstino Cralion. He stated that he’d detected the beast lying on the riverbed. He estimated it to be three hundred yards long and as wide as the main drainage channel.”

“Did Alessandro manage to rouse the creature?” Harrogate asked.

“Yes,” Elowen said, turning the page and smoothing it down. “He roused it all right.”

“Did he kill it?”

“No, no, well, it’s unknown. He rowed into the beast’s maw, armed to the teeth. The man was convinced the only way to kill the beast was from the inside.”

“Let me guess,” Harrogate said. “Neither man nor beast was seen again.”

“Correct,” said Elowen. “For all we know, that leviathan is still there.”

“But he did wake one,” Josh said.

“Yes.”

“How.”

“He used bait,” Elowen said. “He tied a woman to a post and offered her as a sacrifice.”

“On the land?”

“No.” She spun the book around, pointing at a drawing. “He modified a boat. She was tied to a post on its bow. The text says he then cut her and let her bleed into the water. That was what woke the creature.”

“So, we tie me to a post,” Cassandra said. “The beast rises and opens its mouth. I then blast the creature with my lightning, suck its mana out with my naturalism and then rain seven tons of shit on it with everything I’ve got while we send a barge full of explosives into its mouth. In short, we blow the fuck out of it.”

“Which all works barring one thing,” Elowen said.

“What?”

“You don’t qualify as the sacrifice.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not a virgin.”

Chapter Five

JOSH FELT her presence before he sensed her. He stood on his cart’s bench, surveying the estuary. Two vast swathes of brown mud replaced the city's heart. The ruins edged both. He strained to see the opposite bank, making out clusters of people grouped around fires, surviving, but barely so.

“I’d like to thank you.” Silexa Gray stood at his feet, looking up. She held herself well and had snuck up on him without a sound. A natural confidence bled from her expression, but that lacked clues about her. Undoubtedly attractive, she had poise. He had the feeling she could as easily kiss him as kill him and that the choice remained hers, and he’d have little say in it.

“Were you their victim or their assassin?” he asked, observing her black clothes, sheaths empty, barring one.

“Both,” she said. “I would have taken them out, but as I struck, so did the leviathan.”

“King’s orders?”

“Close. His.” She flicked her gaze at Candour. “Or one of his commands. A man named Blackfinger.”

“So, justified?”

“Possibly. Hard to know who’s good and bad.”

Josh jumped down, facing the estuary. “There’s less of both. Josh, by the way, Josh Underwood. Not of the Underwoods, I might add.”

“Silexa Gray,” she said. “And I know who you are. Elowen just spent the last hour telling me all about you. Well, to a point. There’s still some mystery left. I hear you intend to try and wake the beast.”

“We’re coming up with a plan. Harrogate and Melody have gone off to retrieve a quantity of their powder. Then we just need a virgin to strap to a boat and bleed into the river. Pretty straightforward stuff, really.” He smirked.

“You make it sound so easy.”

“We have the firepower, but the creature has the reach. Judging by the new mudbanks, the safest place to put the bait is around there, almost the edge of the old city. But say it's grown or shifted. The sacrifice might well end up dead.”

“I’ll do it,” Silexa said.

Josh raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t have you down for a virgin.” He regretted his words the moment he’d said them. Tact was a rare commodity in Mythelore, and he’d lost his. “You know, because—”

“Because I’m from the north or because I’m an assassin.”

Josh scoffed. “I know nothing about the north. So, yes, because someone who works with Candour isn’t likely to be an innocent.”

She laughed. “Innocent? Far from it. But did you stop to consider I might not have found the right man to lay with? I work for schemers, backstabbers and brown-nosers, and I eliminate thieves, murderers and rapists. Tell me, where am I likely to find a decent man?”

Josh chuckled. “Point taken. Not easily. Tell me—as I said, I’m not up on Mythelorian protocol, let alone the foibles of the court, does Candour have a claim on the throne?”

“He doesn’t need one. He has the army. I’ll bet all my coin he’s recalled them already. War will be the last thing on his mind now. Survival is the key.”

“Will you help him?”

“To rule? No. Don’t get me wrong, I think he’ll make as good a king as any, but I’ve no interest in climbing any political ladder. Government and women don’t often go hand-in-hand. It’s a little more lax up north and southeast, but central Mythelore is a man’s world.”

“So, you’re unemployed?”

“And free to offer up my virginal self to a humongous sea beast.” She laughed. “It would get me a song or two, even if you were the main character.”

“Ha!” said Josh. “There’s one problem with that. You’re not in my band. I have a guild called the Misfits."

"You do. But are any of them virgins?" She took a step forward. “Elowen told me they’re all in your harem, barring the strange one with the goggles. So, I’m guessing you all enjoy a good time, which means there isn’t a virgin in the Misfits. So, I volunteer.”

“You make a compelling argument.”

“I’ll make it better. The beast is going to swallow the virgin. There’s no way you’re going to stop that. It’ll rise, open its mouth, and the river, boat and virgin will be sucked in. I have a chance of fighting my way out. At least, better than anyone else.”

Her skin shone under the morning sun, her teeth glinting, and her eyes alive with excitement. She was proud—too proud to turn down. “You won’t be alone,” Josh said.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going in with the bomb. I’m not leaving it to chance.”

“You’re ready to die?” She pointed to the carts. “With all this? With all them?”

“No, I’m not ready to die. I simply haven’t worked out how to live through it yet.”

“Then perhaps that’s something we need to plan together.”

Josh crouched by the water’s edge, stirring it as it lapped at his boots. Cassandra waded out, her shoulders back and head level.

Proud, he thought. She’s proud of what she’s become.

“Don’t worry, Cass,” Arabella shouted. “It’s only after virgins, and you’ve already lost your virginity twice this morning.”

“Oh, sweety, how nice of you to point out I finished what you only managed to start.”

“I warmed him up for both of you,” Elowen said.

“I made him carry on for long time,” Vella added.

Josh blushed as Silexa stared at him. She had a wry smile on her face. “You sound quite the entertainer.”

“We’re a family. Families have fun.”

“Not all of them.”

They all fell silent as Cassandra waded further out. She stopped before the water flowed over her knee-high boots, bent, and rested her palms on the river’s surface.

“It’s here alright,” she said. “I can feel it.”

“Is it sleeping?” Josh asked, pulling his jacket up as the wind gusted.

Clouds gathered, racing across the empty sky, threatening rain. “No,” she said. “It’s waiting.”

“For what?” Josh asked, an uneasy feeling gathering inside him. “Come back in. We got what we wanted.”

“A moment. It’s stirring.”

Josh unslung his sword, drawing the mighty weapon and throwing the sling behind him. “Come back in, Cassandra.”

“Hold on! It’s sensing something.” She turned, her face ashen. “It's sensing you!” The witch pointed at Silexa’s feet. “It’s her.”

Silexa looked down. “The tide’s come in,” she said, drawing Thadius’ sword.

“Get back here now!” Josh said. “Everyone out of the river!”

“Too late,” Cassandra said as a tentacle carved a wake towards them.

She backed away, her hands outstretched, fingers strained. An ice shard shot from her, headed straight for the tentacle. Josh waded deeper, pulling Cassandra back. “Out! Out! This isn’t the plan.”

“One more shot!”

She loosed another shard. Josh pushed her behind him. “We know magic doesn’t work on it.”

“Lightning!” she said. “We know lighting doesn’t work.”

The tentacle raced toward them. Josh readied his strike, knowing they had run out of time. “Try slowing it!” His perception glazed his vision red. “Freeze it all!”

Silexa came beside them, Cassandra in the middle. The witch muttered a fast incantation, a cold wind issuing from her. Ice blocks formed instantly, the river’s surface freezing. The tentacle stopped, ice forming on its suckers. It coiled behind, then thrust through, quickly shattering Cassandra’s wall.

“More!” Josh screamed as the witch’s chants sped up.

Freezing wind whipped around them, a sheet of ice forming on the river. The tentacle smashed its way through, carving a path straight for Silexa. Josh stepped forward. “Back! Both of you!”

Calm settled over him. He watched the tentacle come, judging its distance to the retreating Silexa. As it punched through the ice toward him, he ducked, waited, then sliced the beast. The mighty sword cleaved right through it, the tentacle immediately drawing back—white liquid pumped from it, drenching Josh.

“That’s enough of that!” he said, shaking his hair out. “Run like fuck!” he cried, sword in one hand, the tentacle in the other.

“What the hell do you want with that?” Arabella asked. “Another one coming!” She raced away.

Josh made the mud bank. Cassandra had turned, more magic spewing from her outstretched hands. “Run!” he cried.

She broke off, racing with him, Silexa at his side.

“You two,” Josh shouted. “Take the tentacle.” He tossed it on the mud and turned.

“No, Josh!” Cassandra said.

“Just do it!”

He raced toward the advancing tentacle, sweeping the massive blade across it and chopping its end off. It tried to stop. Josh jinked to one side, bringing the blade down again and slicing another chunk away. He chased it down as it retreated, taking more and more of the flesh.

“More coming!” Arabella screamed.

The river effervesced as three more tentacles streaked under its surface.

“Time to get the hell out of here,” Josh muttered to himself, turning and racing for the city’s ruins.

The girls called him on, screaming their encouragement. His pace was incredible. He’d taken on the behemoth and dealt it a bloody nose. Then, the girls fell silent. Cassandra blasted blue magic over his head. He jumped for the ruins—for the sanctuary beyond the mud battlefield.

A tentacle curled around his ankle, its tiny suckers latching onto him. He jerked backward as Cassandra’s magic erupted over him. Silexa jumped onto the mud, Thadius’ sword flashing. Josh sprang forward, suddenly released from the leviathan’s deadly grip. He stumbled, Arabella pulling him to safety. Cassandra grabbed Silexa. “Enough,” she said. “Enough.”

The assassin grinned. “Don’t sweat it. I’m fine. That was a fun spat.”

Arabella twisted her face in confusion. “Are you mad?”

She shrugged. “A little unhinged, but I wouldn’t say mad.”

“What the hell did you want this for?” Arabella pointed at the tentacle.

“I wanna know what affects it. Something has to. We have a powerful naturalist here. Something has to freeze it. If not magic, then the Delaneys can look at it. But something has to work. The thing can’t be invincible.”

“I thought we were blowing it up from the inside out,” Silexa said.

“Yeah, we are, but we have a good record around monsters, and I want to find a safer way if there is one.”

“Safer way?”

“We haven’t lost anyone yet, and I’m not about to start now.”

“Okay,” said Cassandra, back at the camp. “I’ve tried everything.”

Josh looked away from Silexa, but she immediately drew his attention back. She was a beauty and fast and lethal, too. Her skin warmed with the fire, so rich in color it might have been walnut. The assassin intrigued him. He’d long ago said the party would be complete with a rogue but had quickly forgotten about that position when Melody became available. A trapsmith worked for him. It was a great way to weaken monsters before the final confrontation. But would Silexa fit? Melody didn’t seem to.

While it wasn’t compulsory to join his harem, it was preferable because of the time they’d spend together. If he had four women in the harem and the fifth outside, there was a chance for drama to hatch. Josh wouldn’t tolerate that. His harem was a happy place. It was a place to live, grow and have fun. No single person was above that.

“Josh?” Arabella asked, drawing his attention away from the beauty.

“What?”

“Cassandra was talking.”

Silexa grinned at him, dipping her head and saluting.

“Cassandra,” he said. “Sorry, was distracted.”

“I could see,” she said. “So, fire—we had a feeling, and my tests confirm—no effect.”

“No effect,” Elowen repeated, scribbling it in the book.

“Ice,” Cassandra continued. “Again, no effect. It slowed its progress but didn’t break up the skin of the tentacle’s structure.”

“Air and water—goes without saying that these are ineffectual as the creature lives in both. There are traces of metal there, but nothing I can do anything with.”

“Which leaves naturalism,” Silexa said.

Cassandra flicked the assassin a glance. “You know magic?”

“I’ve been around wizards. I know their pompous boasts. If any fell short of being harmonics, they always leaned on naturalism—got themselves a dog or a bird and claimed to have a natural affinity with it. Makes you wonder how a half-mile-long monster lay underneath the castle for so long.”

“That it does, dearie. Tell me, has it wiped out the wizard’s guild?”

“Not likely,” Candour said. “I imagine a few of them died, but most lived in a guild hall on high ground over the other side. They rarely mixed with the King, leaving to an ambassador and myself to liaise.”

“Well, that’s sorted then,” said Josh. “We can pack up and head home. The wizards can kill the monster.”

Candour laughed, taking a seat next to Josh. “When you attempt to kill the monster, they will be as close to you as they dare. Some might even chance looking from their wall. Half the threat of wizardry is the threat of wizardry, after all. Silexa, I see you’ve made new friends.”

“I tendered my resignation to the King a few days ago. Didn’t he tell you?”

Candour blinked. “Really?”

“Too soon?”

“A little. Rest assured, you still have a position with me.”

“You’ll have to lend me to Josh first. It appears I’m uniquely able to attract the beast.”

“A virgin?” Candour replied.

“You know about the legends?” Josh asked.

“I know my monsters,” Candour said, “and it explains why the monster attempted to capture you.”

“Which we haven’t discussed,” Josh said. “She didn’t even cut herself.”

Candour smacked his lips together. “A woman filled with desire will always attract monsters.” He slapped his knees. “Well, it seems you have it all under control. I wanted to stop by and offer you the opportunity to visit the wizards. I have a boat upstream. It would be wise to include them in your plans.”

“We don’t need them,” Cassandra said.

“Maybe not. But you might one day. I realize this disaster has uncomplicated certain aspects of your life—delayed some choices, but they’ll rush back. You’ve done the people a huge kindness in recent days. Folks love a strong leader. Perhaps you are it.”

Josh’s mouth dropped open. “No! No, you’ve got me all wrong. I hunt monsters. Nothing else.”

“Plenty else,” Candour said. “The Delaneys won’t be back until the day after tomorrow. Indulge me, Josh, and bring Cassandra.” He rose. “Bring Lex, too. Might as well make it a threesome. I doubt you’re opposed to them.”

Josh waited until the man was out of earshot. “What the hell was that all about?”

“I think,” Arabella said. “He’s backing you to be king.”

“Me? I don’t even come from around here!”

“Darling, you’re the strongest man in the realm, and you’re getting stronger by the day. There aren’t any better reasons to be King. If war breaks out, he’s going to back the strongest.”

“But I don’t know the first thing about being a monarch.”

Lex laughed. “You don’t have to. That’s Candour’s job.”

Chapter Six

THE FLESH HAD PROVED susceptible to a thing called mana draw. According to Cassandra and Vella, it was a way of removing all mana from a host. In a similar way to how the lizards had fed on human vigor, she could suck mana from its flesh. While this didn’t have quite the life-extinguishing loop as vigor removal, it did have one extreme benefit for the sorceress. She could channel that mana straight back at the beast in a spell. In essence, she could use the beast’s mana to kill itself—suck the essence from the beast.

“And to think I’ve sucked the essence from the new King’s crown this morning,” Cassandra said from the bath.

“You can get over here and practice again,” Josh said as Arabella rode him.

He lay on his back, Arabella on top but facing away and giving him a fantastic view of his cock sliding in and out of her neat and tidy slot. Both Elowen and Vella lay with their heads on his chest, his arms around them, as he reflected, yet again, how lucky he was.

“Sweetie, I might be a magician, but I can’t suck it where it is. Besides, Bells is doing a damn fine job of polishing it.”

Arabella made a strangled noise, her strokes becoming more urgent.

“Well, I think you’ll make a good King,” Elowen said.

“I don’t want to be king. I want to hunt monsters, and that is that.” He gasped, ripples of pleasure passing through him. Arabella cried out, her pussy contracting as she came, soaking his balls.

“We can’t always have what we want,” she said, dismounting and hopping in the bath with Cassandra.

“Man, this is the worst thing that’s happened to me since coming here.”

“Me best,” said Vella, grabbing his cock and stroking it.

Elowen pulled him up. “Come on, you. You need to get washed and ready for your trip.”

He sat up, running his fingers through his hair. Vella flipped around, presenting her ass to him as she crouched on all fours. He glanced from the bath to her ass. “Fuck it. He can wait.”

Holding his dick steady, he nudged its tip against her lips and slid in, grabbing the elf’s hair and tugging back. “If I’m going to meet a bunch of boring wizards, I’m going in empty.” He picked up his pace, quickly pounding into her.

“I feel like I missed out, somehow,” Elowen said.

“I haven’t finished yet,” said Josh. “In fact, I feel like I’m only just getting started.”

Elowen slid back onto the bed by Vella, presenting her ass to him. “Well, my King, I’m here and ready to drain the royal orbs.”

Josh grinned, his orgasm closing. “What did I do to deserve my beautiful wives?”

They walked to the crossing point. Josh had his gigantic sword strapped to his back while Lex kept hold of Thadius’ weapon. Cassandra held the Everdeep staff. She’d dressed in her sexiest witch outfit yet. Josh was sure her boots were getting higher, and her skirts and tops were shrinking. She wore her hat at a particularly jaunty angle, and her cloak kept slipping, revealing her bare shoulder. It was nerves. Josh was sure of that. She still didn’t believe she was worthy to be a harmonic—to be the harmonic.

Lex dressed in all black. Her skin-tight clothes revealed a lithe, curvy figure, and she moved like a cat. He couldn’t recall ever seeing fear on her face—not when she was lying on the floor in the thug’s den, nor when the leviathan attacked.

“What do you know of the wizards—apart from how bad they are at wizardry,” Cassandra asked.

“Don’t think they’re bad,” Lex said. “Never think that. Some are hugely powerful, but none hold a candle to Cassandra.”

“Please,” Cassandra said, “I’m still feeling my way with it all.”

“So, they know their magic?” Josh said.

“Each knows a branch. Take Merindon, for instance. He’s the head of the Ormorond Sphere. They focus on Aeromancy. By rights, they should have been able to counter the storm.” She shrugged. “They might have even been responsible for it—their way of attacking the beast. He would usually be in charge of the weather over Califire, calling rain when the farmers needed it by shifting clouds. Making sure it was bright and sunny on the King’s birthday—that sort of thing. If a particularly large ship made port, they would provide the wind to send it on its way.”

“So, useful?” Josh asked.

Lex made a whining noise. “More exceptional at extracting coins in exchange for magical favors.”

Cassandra threw her arm around the assassin and drew her close. “Darling, I’m all ears. You can monetize magic?”

“Of course. It’s a talent, just like killing people. If you have a talent, someone will pay for it. The aeromancers held contracts with the port authority, as did the hydromancers. The geomancers were on retainer with the farmers' union. You get the picture. If there’s a way magic could help, then they’d charge appropriately.”

“So, if I could do all those things, we could just send them on the way, and I get all the money.” Cassandra hugged her close. “She’s my favorite assassin. Can we keep her, Josh?”

“Ha! It was way too busy in bed this morning. I could hardly move for breasts and pussies.” He paused. “I just said that out loud, didn’t I? I just moaned about having too many gorgeous women in my bed.”

“You did,” Lex said, a smile hovering on her lips. “But then you are generously lending me Elowen’s carriage. Although I think Cassandra’s is free, so I’m not sure why she was crowding you out this morning.”

Cassandra pushed her away. “You can go off people,” she said. “Besides, we had a late night talking about killing a behemoth, and I just slipped into bed and got all snuggly.”

Lex laughed. “Big scary witch afraid of sleeping on her own.”

“Ha!” said Cassandra. “You’d have joined us given half the chance.”

“Maybe I would,” Lex said, then strode forward. “There’s the ferry. The cabin’s in that thicket. There’s a narrow path leading up to it. Come on. We’re late.”

“What is this place?” Josh asked.

“It's Candour’s ferry. He used it to bypass the King’s taxes. The revenue funded his spy network. It’s an open secret in court or was when there was a court. Running subterfuge for a kingdom so spread out as Mythelore is not easy. The King’s financial advisor didn’t understand the costs. Candour cannot work on a tight budget.”

Josh paused. “So he raised his own taxes, and everyone knew about it?”

“Politics, that’s all. Now, he owns the only ferry to cross the Murkway. As soon as the traders return, he’ll be a rich man.”

“Giving all my secrets away, Lex?” Candour asked, stepping from the thicket. “This way, Josh, Cassandra. The ferry awaits. It’s a fine way to cross the river. Fill your lungs with fresh air. Those wagons must get a little stuffy.”

“My wagon is absolutely perfect.”

“Thought where you’ll build your castle?” he said.

Josh regarded him, sensing a little humor. “Are you taking the piss?”

He roared. “Mr. Underwood! Would I make fun of a potential King?”

“First thing I’m going to do is shut down your illegal ferry.”

“No,” Candour said, leading them into the thicket. “The first thing you do is make me give you a percentage."

"You see, Josh, that's why you need a King’s Justice,” Cassandra said.

The wizard’s guild sat on a flat shelf overlooking the ruins of Califire. Knowing a bit about geomancy, Josh assumed they’d fashioned it themselves and built their headquarters on it. It had a monastic feel to it. Low gray walls that had once been white surrounded bland stone buildings devoid of any character or flair. A single track cut through the field to end at closed gates.

“Where are all the survivors? Have they taken them in?”

Candour shook his head. “They took the northern road. There’s a forest village called Anstat a mile or two in. The folks there are the religious sort and are very caring. Others traveled to the edge of the marshes. There are a few hamlets around there. North Califire was mostly slums—seasonal workers, dockers, fishermen and the like. With all the ships destroyed, they’ve nothing to stay for. Take a while to build back up.”

“So, the wizards did nothing?” Cassandra asked.

“Wizards be wizards, Cassandra. You’re mistaking them for leaders. Just because they have magic, it doesn’t change who they are. They’re safe behind their walls, so that’s where they stayed.”

“But you’re a wizard,” Cassandra pointed out.

“And you’re a sorceress. I would have been a bastard whether I was a wizard or not. You? I’ll bet you haven't changed just because you’re potentially the most powerful woman in Mythelore.”

“They could have helped.”

“Powerful or not, they were probably too scared to open their gates.” He marched forward, his shoulders back. “Of course, if they fail to open them for me, I’ll tear them off their hinges.”

“He will, too,” Lex said, trailing after him.

“Are you nervous?” Josh asked Cassandra as they approached.

“A little. Not so much as before. It’s not the power—that’s fine. It’s more me. He’s right. Never had much self-confidence.”

“Well, you should have now. We’ve helped a load of people, and as soon as Melody and Harrogate are back, we’ll take on the beast.”

“Do you think we’re ready? It’s a step up from what we’ve taken on before.”

“I’ve been thinking about that. We discounted hydromancy. But, do you remember me telling you that we used powerful water jets to cut stone in my old world?”

“Darling, I remember, but I thought you were drunk.”

“I might have been, but it’s true. Imagine a water jet so fine and under such pressure that if it were to touch you, it could chop your hand off. That’s how it worked. The issue is translating that to being effective at a distance.”

“You think we might be able to cut its tentacles off?”

“I think we need to spend tomorrow experimenting.”

They passed under a stone archway and entered a courtyard. Six young-looking wizards stood waiting for them, staring at Cassandra.

“Candour, you choose to visit at a sorrowful moment,” said the tallest.

“Where is everyone? Where are—”

“Dead. All dead. We are all that remains of our guild.”

“All of them?”

“The King summoned them to a meeting. He was raging.”

“He knew I was hunting her,” Candour said, indicating Cassandra.

“He heard rumors. Traders came from Eldorwyn telling of the murder of a dozen barons. Another told of a man wielding a legendary sword. Then tales of the sorceress blasting holes lizardmen. It unnerved him.”

“So, everyone? They’re all dead?” Candour said in utter disbelief.

“We are it.”

Cassandra stepped forward. “Well, that’s a bit of a bugger. Seems I really am the most powerful magician in the land.”

Candour strode inside, the six magicians following him in. Lex held Cassandra and Josh back. “Let him. It’s what he’s good at. He’ll work out what needs doing.”

“He can have all the space he wants. Whoa! What a relief!” Cassandra said. “I was shitting myself. I imagined some stuffy board of old men staring down at me and judging.”

“Why were you shitting yourself?” Lex asked. “You are much more powerful than they were. All of them—the top wizards in Mythelore—packed in one place, and they couldn’t save their own asses.”

“I wasn’t worried for me, Sweetie. I was worried I’d blast them all to bits. It doesn’t take much for shame to turn to rage.”

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” Josh said. “Nothing. Doesn’t matter if you’re the most powerful anything. Never be ashamed of who you are.”

She stroked his cheek with the Everdeep staff. “But I am, and nothing you can say can change that.” She lifted her hat and shook her hair out. “Shall we go look around our new headquarters?”

“Our new what?” Josh asked.

“Our new guild quarters. We wanted six wizards. We have six wizards. If we begin training them, we’ll need a new guild lodge, and what better place than this? I’ll call Arabus and tell him we must station some fairies here.” She frowned. “I wonder if he’s got any cousins or whatever Rocs have. It’ll certainly be easier to get here by air than traveling in the wagons.”

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly, darling. I’m sure you’ll get used to flying. After all, you’ve done it before.” She winked at him, turned and sashayed up the steps and into the building.

“She’s not as weak as she makes out,” Lex said.

“Oh, don’t mistake her lack of self-worth for weakness. Imagine thinking as little of yourself as she does and still making it. That takes some guts—more than guts. That makes her an extraordinary person indeed.”

“You know,” Lex said. “I really hope I get to know you all better. I’ve got a feeling we could become good friends.” She sashayed up the steps, and Josh wondered the exact same thing.

It was cool inside. The place had the feel of a country villa, with white stucco walls and little decoration. They found Candour in a central hall that doubled as a canteen. He looked up as they entered, then bid them to one side.

“This is serious. If word gets out that the King is dead and his foremost wizards went with him, there will be rebellion. The Lords and Ladies attack any weakness.”

“Oh please,” said Josh. “As a great man once said, ‘Don’t underestimate me. I fight monsters.’ Do you really think an army is any match for us?”

While Josh was powerful in his own right, his confidence came from Cassandra’s exponential rise. She’d gone from playing pranks with stone beasts to demolishing troll camps. He couldn’t possibly see how anything could stand in her way.

“The rumor of her power won’t stop them. The only hope is a display of your might.”

“Killing a leviathan should do it. Why not invite each Lord or Lady here to witness our monster take down?”

“Because they might not come. They know how I work. They’d have heard of the barons killed at Sendor’s castle.”

“Then ask them to send an ambassador to discuss the realm's future. Have it here. They can witness it and report back. We’ll garrison the army on either side of your ferry crossing. This will be the center of New Califire. We can do this, Candour. We can save Mythelore.”

“Isn’t that the type of speech a new king would make?” Candour asked, scratching at his beard.

Chapter Seven

JOSH AND CASSANDRA sat in the middle, their table stretching the width of the hall. Arabella and Vella sat on Josh’s side while Lex and Elowen sat on the other. Candour opened the door. “Who’s first?” he asked.

Elowen looked at her pad. “Erastmus.” She folded the sheet over. “Geomancer.”

“Erastmus, please come in and introduce yourself,” Candour said.

A young wizard walked in, his cloak, like the walls, white but faded to gray. Candour closed the door and sat, crossing his legs.

Erastmus walked up to the table. “I’m Erastmus. I’m a geomancer and was studying under Herolos before—”

“Before he died,” Cassandra said. “So, tell us. What can you do?”

“Do?”

The man flipped his cloak’s hood back. He was young and had shaggy brown hair parted in the middle. He stared at the floor, his hands shaking. “I’m not supposed to do anything unless I’m supervised.”

Cassandra leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

“Like if I was plowing a field—with magic, like—Herolos would always be there, watching.”

“And pocketing the money, no doubt,” Candour said.

“Yes, that too.”

Cassandra smirked. “So, what did you do when he wasn’t watching? What magic did you do then.” She leaned forward. “You can’t get in any trouble. They’re all dead, and by the sound of it, if the leviathan hadn’t killed them, I might have.”

“We used to have gollum fights,” Erastmus said, perking up.

“Gollum fights?” Arabella asked.

“Yeah, me and Falco. He’s a Geomancer too. Or I’d pitch my mud gollum against Daniel’s water gollum, and we’d see who won. Mud usually loses to water, though, but my rock one beat him every time.”

“So, you can plow and raise gollums,” Cassandra said.

“I can do more than that. We were just never allowed to. We had to appreciate the cause and effect of our magic.”

Candour rose. “What they are trying to ascertain, young man, is how powerful are you? You are the foremost geomancer in the land. What would you have done to beat the leviathan?”

Erastmus thought a while. “I’d have raised a colossus like Elriman man, marched it into the river, and pounded it until it left us alone.”

“Novel,” said Elowen, “but impractical. If the mud banks didn’t get it, the current would have had it over.”

“Falco had an idea. It’s all we’ve been talking about since it happened,” Erastmus said.

Arabella yawned. “Candour, can you call Falco in? We might as well hear this amazing idea.”

Falco stood beside Erastmus. He was a few years older, with a spark about him that immediately reminded Josh of Elowen. The man was an academic. There was no doubt about that.

“So,” Josh said. “Erastmus tells me you had an idea to kill the leviathan.”

“Kill it? No. No, the idea wouldn’t have killed it, but it would make it vulnerable. But look, I—err—we aren’t even sure if it’s practical.”

“Spit it out,” said Lex.

“Well, it’s like this. The leviathan lives in the sea. It can only venture as far as the tidal waters reach. So, at low tide, it’s vulnerable. My plan, well, our plan, was to carve a second river bed from the marshlands to the sea. We’d pile all the mud up to make a huge embankment. Then, when the tide turns, we divert the river into the new channel. That should leave the leviathan beached and exposed. We’d then have a few hours to attack it, assuming it didn’t suffocate or whatever big fish do.”

“How do they breathe?” Arabella asked, repeating a much earlier question that no one had answered then.

“It might work,” Josh said.

“I think I prefer the idea of blowing it up,” Cassandra said.

“But this would be a huge magical display,” Josh said. “The geomancers form the channel. Have we a hydromancer?”

Elowen looked at her pad. “Daniel.”

“He could divert the river.”

“So,” Cassandra said. “We have a beached leviathan. What do we do with it?”

“We thought of that as well,” said Falco. “That’s when we send in Rez.”

“Rez? Hardly a wizard’s name,” Arabella scoffed. “Seriously, how do fish breathe?” she whispered to Elowen.

“Gills.” She flipped her pad. “Rezzid? Are you referring to Rezzid?”

“Yes.”

“Candour, can you call Rezzid.”

“I can, but I thought we already agreed that pyromancy would be ineffective against the creature.” He opened the door. “Rezzid?”

A small boy swept in dressed in a black cloak. “I am he.” He flipped his cloak back, his jet-black swept back, and beady eyes narrowed. We could tell he’d practiced the maneuver. “Have we revealed the plan?”

“We have,” said Falco.

“So, my job would be to strip the creature of its tentacles. I would do this with a superheated blast of focused fire so hot it could melt metal. The creature’s ability to deflect the lightning was caused by its wet, greasy skin. Rather than a single strike, mine would be a continuous blast that would burrow under the skin and then sever the internal bone. Would you like me to demonstrate?”

“Later,” Cassandra said. “So, that’s two geomancers, a hydromancer and a pyromancer. Bring the last two in, and, er, Daniel, and let’s wrap this up.”

“The last two are Blisten and Prost. An aeromancer and naturalist.”

The three remaining wizards strolled in. “Daniel, we know your part in this plan. The aeromancer?”

“Blisten,” Elowen said.

“Blisten, pray tell, what do you do?” Cassandra asked.

Blisten was Rezzid’s height. His white hair gave him an old-before-his-time look, but his skin gave away his tender age. Josh guessed he was in his twenties and the eldest of the six. He was also the one who’d addressed Candour on the steps.

“My task is to bring a warm wind and dry the beast in preparation for Rezzid’s attack.”

“And you, Prost?”

Prost kept his hood up, hiding in its shadows. “I must kill it. Somehow, I must stop its heart, suck the life from it. Empty it of mana or vigor. It falls on me to end it.”

“What branch of naturalism are you?” Cassandra asked.

He threw back his cloak to reveal his gray and wrinkled face. “I’m a devourer, witch. I suck the life from living things.”

“Let’s address the elephant in the room,” Josh said as they sat in the bland, white dining hall the following day.

They all looked around. Cassandra scratched her head, made to say something but decided against it. Harrogate and Melody had joined them, having returned from their mission to retrieve their powders. Melody stuck her goggles on, scanned the room and took them off, looking equally confused.

Vella said, “Elephant?” then returned to the in-depth study of her nails that she’d been performing throughout the discussion.

“Artusian or Intersion,” Harrogate asked, always pleased to know more than everyone else.

“No, it’s a saying,” Josh explained. “There isn’t really an elephant in the room.”

“Which begs the question why you said it,” Elowen said, and Arabella nodded in agreement.

“It means there’s a hugely obvious topic that no one is addressing that needs discussion. In this case, it’s that scary wizard, Prost.”

Candour swapped glances with Lex, each silently prompting the other to speak. Lex deferred and spoke.

“The Devourer? It’s a branch of Naturalism that is niche. I’ll grant you that. I’m not sure you have anything to worry about. Cassandra could drain you whenever she wants.”

“Darling, I drain him every morning.”

“Not sure that’s the same thing. In fact, I bloody hope not,” Josh said. “Votes on chopping his head off?” Josh raised his hand.

Candour stood. “A Devourer can drain its intended of mana. That is all. Oh, and sometimes vigor as well. Mana and vigor. It’s another way of killing. Just because a man has a knife doesn’t mean he will stab you.”

“Granted. Blame the holder, not the weapon. I get that. But he looked weird as fuck.”

“That’s because he hasn’t fed properly. The previous Devourer, Sanimus the Second, restricted Prost to draining only plants.”

“Good for him,” Vella said.

“Can’t beat draining a bit of meat,” Cassandra said, fully intending to flog her joke to death.

Josh sighed. “Yes, well, we don’t want to get into that debate. So, if he were able to devour, let’s say, grander things, would he stop looking like a scary-assed dried-up prune?”

“He would benefit from additional mana and vigor, yes. If a Devourer is fully sated, they have no desire to drain anything,” Candour explained.

“Fine. We’ll make it a priority to feed the poor little bugger.”

“I can show him,” Vella said.

“Right, that said, let the little wizards in so they can hear our plan.”

Candour sighed and let them in.

“Okay, let’s start with the explosives,” Elowen said.

“Yes!” said Rez.

“How did you two get on?” Josh stared at the Delaneys.

“Fine. We retrieved all our inventory. That’s eight pounds of C1, six of C2, ten C4 and just shy of a hundred C9,” Harrogate said.

“To explain,” Melody interjected. “C is the type. C was the most stable and explosive mix.”

“You got it right at the third attempt?” Josh asked.

“No,” Harrogate replied. “We’d been around the entire alphabet a couple of times before it clicked.”

“What do the numbers mean?” Elowen asked, pencil at the ready as she recorded all.

“Different granule sizes. C1 is highly flammable but lacks boom. Nine packs the punch but takes C1 to wake it,” Melody replied.

“So, one is the fuse powder, nine is the bomb. Two and four?” Josh asked.

“Handy for different boobytraps.”

“And the missing numbers?”

“Unstable. Blew up or didn’t work at all.”

“Fantastic.” Josh stood. “Now, I want to talk about the wizard’s idea. I like it—not in its entirety, but I like it a lot better than our plan. It’s no secret that I prefer our monster takedowns to be as risk-free as possible. Our plan, while a solid one for killing the leviathan, presents too many unknowns, mostly revolving around how Lex and I escape the monster’s maw. So, what I propose is a blending of the two plans.”

“We’re still going to blow the fuck out of it, right?” Melody asked.

“Indeed,” Josh replied as the six wizards hovered by their seats. “Sit, sit. You’re not in school anymore.”

“I have the plan,” Elowen said, rising and wheeling a chalkboard over. “For the sake of brevity. This is the estuary. These are the two drainage channels. This is the Leviathan.”

“So,” Josh said, drawing the attention back to him. “I propose we prepare. We use the geomancers Erastus and Falco to build these channels. It’s an enormous task that will teach them more than playing with gollums. Plus, they have Vella to help refill their mana.”

“Me,” said Vella. “And Prost.”

“That’s me,” said Prost. “I’m a Devourer.”

“You and Prost, yes. Getting back to the plan,” Josh said. “The earth from the two drainage channels is packed on the riverbank, ideally narrowing the river’s course to the approximate width of the monster’s jaw. This will give us three viable channels. Once this is done, we move to stage two of the plan.” He paused. “Phase two consists of building sluice gates of some description. I was hoping Harrogate might help design these. We have to be able to control the flow of water into the new drainage channels.”

“Why?” Lex asked.

“Because, when we launch the boat packed with explosives and our virgin sacrifice—”

“I told you once. I’m not a virgin!” Melody said, and when everyone looked at her, she shrunk in her chair.

“I’m the virgin sacrifice,” Lex told her.

“Because,” Josh said, “we want to control the boat’s speed.”

“Why?” Harrogate asked.

“Because once the beast senses the virgin—”

“Me,” said Lex.

“Once it wakes,” Josh continued. “We must strip it of its tentacles before the boat is in range. The last thing we want is the monster lashing out at the boat and breaking it apart or partially sinking it. While the boat makes its way to the beast, Cassandra and Rezzid spring into action, severing as many tentacles as possible. I also think Daniel can help. He’s the hydromancer. We’ll work on that. But let’s assume that by the time the boat reaches the monster’s open maw, the leviathan has no tentacles left. Harrogate is controlling the sluice gates and has already partially beached the beast. The river’s slower flow will allow us to steer the boat straight into its open maw. At that point, we can either light the fuse and swim away or stick with the boat until it’s inside the Leviathan. As soon as the boat vanishes into the beast, Harrogate closes the sluices and stops the river’s flow.”

“Which strands the monster and stops it trying to retreat,” Melody said.

“What do I do?” Blisten said.

“Ah, yes, you, Blisten and you, Prost. You are our control. From the moment the beast shows itself, Prost begins to drain it of mana while Blisten readys its surface for the tentacle attacks.”

“And me?” Cassandra said. “What do I do?”

“You fill the gaps. Erastmus and Falco are on standby to repair any banks the Leviathan might breach as it thrashes around. You jump in and help—shore up defenses, sever tentacles, batter it with lightning, whatever we need.”

“Me can help drain,” Vella said. “Me can help infuse vigor and mana.”

“I’ll need to be on the boat,” Melody said.

“No,” Josh said. “As few people on the boat as possible.”

“Then you don’t need to be on it,” Lex said.

“I’m a contingency. I’m there to defend you.”

“What do I do?” Arabella asked.

“Oh, I’ve got your dum-dum arrows,” Melody said. “You can fire them into the beast’s maw.”

“Then,” she said. “There’s no need for anyone to be on the bomb boat. We could all be behind it. As the boat goes in, I can fire my arrows into the beast’s maw and ignite the bomb boat. That way, no one’s in danger.”

“I could rig that up. Perhaps have two bomb boats in case the first fails,” Melody said.

“What do we think?” Josh asked. “Could it work? Could we take down this beast with minimal risk to any of us?”

Harrogate nodded. “It’s fantastic,” he said. “Exactly how I saw monster hunting evolving years ago. Preparation, it’s all in the preparation.”

Candour clapped. He rose from his chair and circled the hall. “How long?” he asked.

“Cassandra?” Josh asked.

“The drainage channels are the largest task. They need to be large enough to take the river’s flow. Two weeks? It’s a guess, as I doubt anyone has ever done anything like it.”

“I could summon all the Lords and Ladies in that time. We could convene a meeting and discuss the appointment of a king straight after the takedown. That should ensure their attendance.” Candour steepled his hands. “In the meantime, what are your plans, Cassandra?”

“My plans?”

“Well, you are the most powerful sorcerer in Mythelore, probably Alianthia. So, what are your plans? For instance, the last magical institution was wizards only, yet here you are, a witch, surpassing all of them. Trust me when I say this: the Lords will prefer Prost to be King rather than a witch be in charge of all magic. How will your frail ego take the derision of seven, no six, Lords?”

Cassandra rose from her seat, holding the Everdeep staff by her hands. “I only answer to one man, Candour, and that is Josh. If there is a structure needed, then it revolves around that. I suggest that wizards no longer hide behind walls and that witches are embraced for their potent force. But, I answer only to Josh. I am a Misfit first.”

“But how will you handle the Lords?”

“I won’t have to do anything, Candour. When they see my power, they’ll shit themselves, and then they’ll do what all people in power do when they’re scared of someone.”

“And what’s that?”

“They’ll grovel.”

Chapter Eight

JOSH STOOD ON THE SLOPE, staring out over the works. Its scale was incredible, and its draw was stunning. Califire’s citizens had returned en masse as word had spread, and a new settlement had sprung up around the wizard’s enclave.

Every single person wanted revenge and was willing to give their all for it. Woodcutters felled trees. Carpenters shored up the new bank’s walls. Joiners built the giant sluice gates Harrogate had designed, while stonemasons constructed sturdy dwellings. Candour’s ferry service grew and soon had a dozen rafts ferrying building materials between banks.

The novice wizards worked their fingers to the bone. Falco and Erastmus woke before dawn and finished after dusk, each in an unspoken competition to reach the sea first. Daniel kept the channels free of water ingress and helped the carpenters shore up the banks, holding the river back while they drove massive trunks into the mud with Cassandra’s help.

The witch made herself available to all. Whether it was helping Blisten tame a vortex drill to dig holes for the posts, or if Rezzid needed help welding a hinge to the sluice gates, she was there. Each night, everyone ate and fell straight into their bunks. Exhaustion became commonplace as Prost and Vella failed to keep up.

It turned out that a Devourer was so much more than a feeder. Vella taught the young wizard that he could not only drain others of mana and vigor, but he could fill himself and give back. Prost began to call himself a healer rather than a devourer. His complexion changed from the wrinkled, gray man he’d been when they’d first met him to a cherubic young man with rosy cheeks and a pleasant manner.

Lex and Arabella spent all day sparring. Arabella had decided that her contribution to the Misfits was too focused on her bow and that they desperately needed more melee backup. The assassin fitted their party and quickly became a firm favorite around the camp.

Elowen spent a lot of time with Candour. She took notes about the political maneuverings in Mythelore, producing character summaries on the Lords or Ladies. They noted the possible troublemakers and discussed viable allies.

On the seventh day, Candour’s army returned from the south. Their presence accelerated everything. They built roads and began constructing a bridge across the marshes. But it was Thadius’ arrival that truly lifted everyone’s spirits. He came with Dinsy and another fairy. His arrival prompted more discussions regarding the future of Mythelore and how the Misfits might work in tandem with any government.

“Lord Sendor,” Elowen announced.

Josh sat at one end of the table, barely able to keep awake. “I guess loyal?”

“He is,” Candour said. “But his allegiance is fragile. While he has experienced your power firsthand, it did result, directly and indirectly, in the death of his father and numerous barons he’d known since he was a child. So, I would have him down as an undecided.”

“Really?” Josh raised an eyebrow.

Lex sat at Josh’s side. She shadowed him day and night, having appointed herself his bodyguard. While she hadn’t witnessed his ability to heal and had only seen him fight once, she maintained that any person, no matter how powerful, could not recover from sudden decapitation.

She tapped the table. “Any scared person can potentially seek allies that appear more powerful and don’t offer the same threat level. He might be on your side, but you must accept that he might hate you for your actions and simply play the timid man while plotting your downfall.”

Josh trusted her judgment over that of Candour. Lex didn’t seem to have any agenda other than protecting him, which also put Candour’s nose out of joint, something Josh found peculiarly satisfying.

“Stick him down as a maybe,” Josh said.

“Which I find strangely dissatisfying,” Thadius remarked.

“Lord Montague of Artusia.”

“Ah, the one with the elephants,” Josh said.

“Elephants?” Candour asked. “Ah, yes. That’s more Western Artusia than the rest—the part that borders Intersia.”

Elowen cleared her throat. “We have him down as a hostile.”

Josh double took. He had no clue why a stranger being hostile to him pissed him off, but it did. “What’s he got against me?”

“Artusia is a male-dominated society. They will vehemently oppose Cassandra’s ascension to the head of the School of Magic,” Candour said. “They will also be aware that she is the harmonic. Artusians are single minded. They know power when they see it.”

“So, they’ll know she’s a harmonic?”

“They’ll know she’s the harmonic. Fill in the blanks, Josh. What is the only way they’ll get their male harmonic?”

“If she dies?” he said.

“If she dies,” Candour confirmed.

“So they’ll try and murder her?”

“If the opportunity arises, but they’re also very patient. If they see an advantage to her living, they’ll side with her like she’s their best friend.”

“Another hostile, then,” Josh said, and Elowen noted it.

“Lord Farza of Intersia,” Elowen announced.

“Very similar to Montague—almost identical, but perhaps not so extreme,” Candour said.

“I am Intersian,” Lex said. “They are nothing like the Artusians.”

Candour cocked his head. “Are you sure about that? Or are you too close?”

She looked away.

“Our third hostile?” Josh said.

“No,” Candour folded his arms and sat back. “We can assume that whatever side Artusia supports, Intersia will support the opposite. Morals are set aside quickly where hatred is involved. Those two hate each other; make no mistake about that.”

“So, two to one, and our one is not on merit but more on hatred of one of our enemies,” Elowen concluded. “Lady Franks of Mid Loren.”

“There is your first true supporter and the most powerful of the Northern Provinces. Should either Montague or Farza wish to invade Califire, they must go through her lands or risk the Truskans. She holds the peace in place as an alliance with the Truskans comes with complications.”

“So, Franks evens it up,” Josh said. “What about the Truskans?”

“They live along the spine of Mythelore, so their lands border northern Artusia and Intersia and then flank Franks’ lands and that of the King, a small nub protruding into Sendor’s lands. While they have the greatest land mass, they are the fewest in number. They are also the richest, controlling much of the mining in Mythelore. We can buy their allegiance.”

“How?” Josh asked.

“They have monster problems. We sell monster solutions. No one else does.”

“We are one outfit,” Thadius pointed out.

“Then I suggest you expand,” Candour said.

“Who else?” Josh asked. “Or can we quit now at three-two?”

“We still have Nareena. She is a law unto herself. Her allegiance will be unknown until the vote. She can be a warmonger, or she can pursue peace. Her lands, Sillia, are Southeast Mythelore and border Alianthia to her south. Her mood will depend on how those relations are going. If they’ve had strife, she will side with any who want to give them a bloody nose. If all is rosy, she’ll want to keep it that way.”

“Has she a standing army?” Josh asked.

“Militia.”

“Then she relies on Califire for protection.”

“Except Califire’s army can vanish as quickly as it appeared. It is the sum of the provinces. Their King is dead. Their allegiance is gone. We are dependent on an agreement.”

Elowen stood. “I’m going to put Eldorwyn, Truska and Farza in the undecided pile. We have our vote, Lady Franks, and we’re assuming Intersia in our pile. Which only leaves Artesia in the hostile pile. I think that’s fair.”

“Assuming no deals have already been done,” Candour said. “We may have already been ousted, and we don’t know it.”

Thadius grunted. “You’re assuming there is an us. I know a little about Mythelorian law, and I would say Califire is very much up for grabs at the moment. There is no legitimate progression—at least, I presume the King’s whole family died. His barons appear weak, as is often the case with a monarch's barons. You’ve already stated that the army’s allegiance might be fragile, so I ask you this. What makes you think we even have a seat at the table?”

Candour took a breath. “Because we hold the crossing and have Josh and Cassandra.”

“So, would it be fair to say that without them, you have nothing?”

The Justice hesitated. “Hardly nothing. I have influence.”

“You also backed Calico over me when appointing the King’s Monster Slayer. I believe you showed a lack of judgment there. Let’s be clear: there is only one thing we’re discussing here, and that is what part the Misfits play in Mythelorian politics. Now, I’ve known Josh a lot longer than you, so I feel I can speak for him.”

“I can speak for myself,” Josh said.

“You can, but all these names are new to you, but not me. The following will be on his side: Eldorwyn, Truska and Mid Loren. So, If we claim Califire by right of control, any vote will be four to three and passed.”

“How can you be sure?” Candour asked.

“Because Lady Franks needs a stable southern flank. Artesia and Intersia are volatile, so that makes her northern border volatile. The Truskans admire strength. We have the two most powerful warriors in all Mythelcore, and looking at the work proceeding outside, we will soon have six competent wizards to add to that. Sendor will side with Josh because he knows his power and that Josh can keep his land free of monsters.”

Candour raised his hand. “Agreed.”

“Nareena could go either way. We know the monster problem is stronger in the South rather than the North. She has a tense relationship with the magical races, so as Candour said, she could swing both ways. We have one problem, and one only. Will Artusia or Intesia’s differences stop them from joining forces or not? Is the recognition of a female harmonic enough to tip that balance? That Candour is where you stand if the Misfits decide to support you.”

Candour laughed. “Oh, you misunderstand me. I don’t want to be King. I want Josh to be King.”

Thadius’ jaw hung open. “Well, that’s just ridiculous.”

“Is it?” Harrogate said from an open door. “We are facing an invasion. That is what you should be focusing on. These Lords and Ladies have one choice to make, and that is all. Do they wish to fight these monsters alone, or will they rally behind those who can? The rest is immaterial.” He approached Josh. “We have the first test ready. Would you be available to accompany Arabella to it?”

“I would. Candour, could you have your army commanders meet us there?”

Candour dipped his head. “I could.”

“Then let’s see if we have an army behind us or not. Remember this. I don’t want any of this. I have my guild hall. I have my carriages. I could leave you all to your own fates tomorrow and live a perfectly happy life.”

Josh looked out over the marsh. He shaded his eyes to shield them from the sun’s glare.

“You reckon you can hit that?” he asked Arabella.

“The first five arrows are dummies,” Melody explained. “The sixth is the dum-dum.”

“Why do you call it a dum-dum?” he asked.

“You’ll see,” she said, pulling her goggles down.

A group of four soldiers stood behind them, Candour in their middle. He’d introduced them to Josh, but after the morning session, Josh had a name overload going on, and he’d forgotten them the instant he’d turned away. They were the usual culprits—a cavalry officer, an archer, and two infantry types. Candour called them captains, so that was all he needed to know name-wise. He’d bolt their actual names down later—once they’d decided if they were his friends or his enemies.

“I can hit it with a normal arrow,” Arabella said. “The audience is giving me the jitters, though.”

She took the first arrow, nocking and aiming. Melody thrust her hands onto her hips and leaned forward. “Sighter!” she shouted.

Arabella loosed the arrow.

“Nine yards short!” Melody shouted shortly after it splashed into the marsh.

Arabella loosed the second arrow.

“Three yards short!”

“Take a breath. You got this,” Josh said.

“One yard over!”

Arabella dropped her bow, bending and taking a breath.

“You nearly had it!” Josh said.

“Oh, I got it alright. I just needed to refocus.”

Melody handed her the last dummy.

“No, give me the real one.”

“Sure?”

Arabella nodded, taking the arrow and nocking it. She pulled the string back, lifting the bow as she inhaled. Exhaling, she shot the arrow. Melody crouched, her hands on her hips.

“Looking good!”

A dull thump followed.

“Eh?” Josh said, expecting more.

Bang! An enormous explosion knocked him from his feet, brackish water and tiny bits of boat strafing him.

“Dum, dum,” Melody explained, sitting up and pulling some weed from her hair. “One tiny explosion leads to a larger one.”

Josh picked a dead crawfish from his lap. “I’d call that a success,” he said, tossing the animal away and turning to face Candour and the captains.

“That, gentlemen, is the advantage you can have or face on the battlefield. If you side with us and it comes to war, you get me, Cassandra, and artillery. If you side against us, then I apologize in advance for your slaughter. I can tell you that if you choose to fight with us, you will get our protection. If things go south on the battlefield, I’ll be with you until the final moment. I can also promise we’ll train you in new methods to take down monsters and arm you with new, improved weapons.” He grabbed Arabella’s hand, then Melody’s, when she offered it. “Let me know what they decide, Candour. Any units against us are free to leave with our best wishes for their short-term future.”

He picked some fish guts out of his hair as he walked away with the girls.

“Do you think they’ll side with us?” Arabella asked.

“That depends on their allegiance to their House. I’ll not come between any man or woman and their loyalty. But if they fight us, they are the enemy. That is without question. That is without hesitation.”

“What if I decide not to fight with you?” Melody said. “You’ll lose all the weaponry.”

“No,” said Josh. “I know what I have to gather.” He glanced at her as she pushed her goggles up. “There’s no pressure on you to stay. That powder residue on your hands? It transferred to mine. I know how you made it.”

“Impossible.”

“No, no, it’s not,” Arabella said. “Josh has advantages.”

“Magic?”

“Something like that,” Josh said.

“It’s to do with the ring, isn’t it?” Melody pulled her hand away, staring at her fingers. “Years work, and you just stole it like that?”

“It’s still yours. I’m just pointing out that I know how to make it. So, you’re here because I’ve changed my mind.”

Melody stopped. “You’ve changed your mind?”

“Yes. I like having you and your Dad around.”

“Well, what if I haven’t changed my mind? What then?”

Josh grinned. “Then I guess you’ll be on your way.”

She faced him, her fists by her sides as her cheeks puffed in and out. “You’re impossible!”

“And you are the best alchemist in Mythelore. True, you’re rude, obnoxious, and you’ve got a C1 fuse, but you’re still fun to be around.”

Melody screamed, “Gah!” She stomped off.

“Well, that went well,” Josh said, pulling Arabella into an embrace.

“In what world did that go well?”

“In my one. We had to bring it up. I hate sulking.”

Arabella screwed her forehead up. “But she’ll be sulking even more.”

“No, she’s angry now. There’s a difference. Sulking leads to hatred. Anger could go either way.” He kissed her, noticing the assassin out of the corner of his eye. “Ah, Lex, where have you been hiding?”

“I was behind the soldiers awaiting your command to kill them.”

“Good to know, but as I didn’t see you there, I was hardly likely to command you to do anything.”

“Oh, I’d have known, Commander.”

“Commander?”

“I believe you have your army, Josh.” She smiled. “From what I just overheard.”

He took Arabella’s hand, walking along the path back to the escarpment overlooking the river. “They haven’t given me an answer yet.”

“But they will,” Lex said, “and like the Lords and Ladies, they’ll come down on the side of the one they see as most powerful. That’s you, by the way. As you know, Melody and Harrogate’s secret now, would you like me to kill them? Then it will be your formula.”

“Tempting,” Josh said and received a slap from Arabella.

“Hey, she’s my friend!”

“Tempting, but I quite like having them around. You can’t beat a bit of crazy.” He scanned the valley. “I see Falco is winning. He’s close to the coast.”

“Daniel’s been helping him. Erastus and him had a falling out. He’s been using his aeromancy to speed Falco along.”

“A bit unfair.”

“Meh!” Arabella said. “We’re dealing with powerful kids with big egos. Bound to happen.”

“I could kill them,” Lex said.

“Please, don’t kill anyone.”

“No one?” Lex said. “You’re no fun.

Chapter Nine

JOSH SAT with Cassandra and Daniel. They stared at the wet rock, trying to see signs of ingression.

“Explain it again,” Cassandra said.

“Imagine the dip in some stone steps or the dishing in a river’s bed. That’s called erosion. Over time, the force of people climbing or the flow of the water wears away the stone. We’re trying to recreate that. So—” He switched his attention to the bucket. “What we need to do is draw it from the bucket into your hands, then fire it from your hands in a tiny spout straight at the rock. Got it?”

“Kind of.” Daniel stood by the bucket as Josh and Cassandra stood back. “How thin and how powerful?”

The problem Josh had was simple. Neither Daniel nor Cassandra truly understood what he was trying to achieve. They didn’t believe, and as he was quickly learning, when it came to magic, the caster had to believe the spell would work. If they couldn’t imagine it working, it wouldn’t.

“As thin as a blade of grass and—” He thought. “Imagine you’d drunk ten barrels of ale and needed a piss but couldn’t have one for an hour, add another two hours of holding your dick and squirming. Then, you finally get to have one. Like that, but multiply it by one hundred.”

Daniel giggled.

Cassandra’s jaw dropped open. “So, like pissing in the snow?”

“Exactly. Except you’re pissing really hard and carving the rock like you’d melt snow.”

“I think I’ve got it,” she said. “Give me the bucket.”

“I got it, too,” Daniel said, holding the bucket away from her before setting it down between his legs.

The young wizard squeezed his eyes and creased his forehead. Water rose from the bucket, pooling between his hands before shooting from them in a thin, speeding stream. It hit the rock, fine spray splashing out.

“Faster,” Josh encouraged.

“Harder!” Cassandra cried.

“Faster!” Josh shouted again.

Daniel narrowed the stream until it was barely visible.

“He’s doing it!” Cassandra said. “He’s cutting the stone!”

The stream stopped as the bucket emptied. They all inched closer. Daniel had carved a small inch-long slot in the rock.

“How?” Cassandra asked.

“Magic,” Daniel said, and no one contradicted him.

“I’m going to try,” Cassandra said.

“Shall I fill the bucket?”

“Don’t bother. I’ll pull straight from the stream.”

She planted her feet apart, bringing her hands together like she held a sword, and then she pointed her fingers and glared at the rock. “Okay, let’s carve this sucker in half.”

A water spout grew from the stream, bending across and into her palms. She held it there momentarily.

“Here comes the power piss!” she yelled.

A thin stream of water leaped from her pointed fingers straight over the rock. She slowly brought it down until it connected with the boulder, letting it carve a thin slot in the top. She drew it across diagonally until she reached the boulder’s opposite edge. The slice of rock fell away.

“That was amazing,” Daniel said.

Cassandra threw her arms around Josh. “Of all the things I’ve learned, carving rock with water has to be up there as the weirdest.”

“Yep, I’ve known about it for a while and still can’t get my head around it.” He kissed her. “You can do the same with pyromancy and aeromancy. If Blisten can get it right, he’ll always have a weapon at hand as there’s always air about.”

“Pyromancy is the same,” Cassandra said offhandedly. “It’s like burning air, except you only use parts of the air if that makes any sense.”

It made perfect sense to him, but he didn’t think it was the time to explain the various chemical components that made up air. While they talked, Daniel carved his name in the boulder. “Wait until the others see that!”

“Daniel,” Cassandra said. “You are in charge of showing Blisten and Rezzid how to do it. Once all three of you can do it at short range, you’re to practice until you can cut at distance. Once you’ve mastered that, you’ll be in charge of tentacle cutting. Understand?”

“Yes, Ms. Cassandra.”

“You have to be quick,” Josh said. “We’re going for the monster kill in a few days.”

“Okay,” he said, spreading his legs and pointing his hands. “Can you send Prost over to keep us topped up?”

Josh glanced at Cassandra. “We’ll go find out how he’s getting on.”

“That could be a powerful weapon,” Lex said, falling into step with them.

“Everything we use against monsters can be used against humans,” Josh said,

“Or elves,” Lex pointed out. “Once you display this magic, other Lords and Ladies might have their magicians use it.”

Josh chuckled. “Only if they can describe it like I did.”

They found Vella and Prost on the edge of the forest. The elven healer was teaching the young wizard how to strip all the mana from a tree before the woodcutters felled it. Prost looked at them and held his hands out, staring at the tree. A funnel of hazy air burst from the tree and entered Prost’s body, the small boy appearing to expand a little, then contract. He let out a burp and stifled his laughter.

“How’s it going?” Josh asked.

“I’m full up,” Prost said. “Got mana leaking from all over me.”

“Has he learned to give mana out yet?”

“Yes,” Vella said. “Can take. Can give. Working on his amounts. Still small compared to me.”

“And vigor?”

“Vigor harder,” she said. “Can draw from sun, but only as much as sun wants to give.”

“Mana’s good. Have you finished with him for the day?”

“Yes. We are done. He can practice on his own.”

“Prost, go find Daniel, Rezzid and Blisten. Keep them filled with mana while they practice their cutting."

“Will do.”

“They’re over by the boulders,” Cassandra shouted as the boy ran away.

“So, what shall we do now?” Cassandra added, a hint of mischief in her eye.

“I think I’ll take a break now,” Lex said. “You seem pretty well protected.”

The assassin marched away, but she dragged her feet as if a little reluctant.

“She’s after you,” Arabella said, walking from the forest, a brace of hares hanging from her belt. “We should discuss it.”

“What’s to discuss?” Cassandra said. “I’ve nothing against the girl, but the time’s not right. We barely get a moment to ourselves, let alone time to add more girls to the harem.”

“Nevertheless, she’s capable, has a thing going for Josh, and fits the monster-hunting profile he’s after. He wanted an assassin. How many beautiful assassins do you think we’ll come across?”

“Right now, we have a leviathan to kill,” Josh pointed out, but only as devil’s advocate. Arabella had made a damn fine point.

How many beautiful assassins would they come across?

They wandered to the compound, entering the courtyard and climbing into Arabella and Josh’s carriage.

“I agree,” Arabella said. “We have a monster to kill, but then we always have a monster to kill. Here’s the question that’s on my mind, and yes, I’ve changed my tack. It was all about love, but with all this politics around, I’m looking at our security. Lex comes with advantages we don’t have.”

“What’s that?” Josh asked.

“She will have one job—to protect you.”

“I’m not so easy to kill,” Josh said.

“Been lucky,” Vella said, slipping out of her two-piece and hopping into the bath.

“No,” Cassandra said. “You aren’t easy to kill, but at the same time, your attention is always on someone else. It might be Candour, or it might be one of us. You could get blindsided. You have to appreciate without you, this all falls apart.”

“So, we ask her once we’ve finished with the leviathan,” Josh said.

“No!” Arabella said. She sat on the bed with a thump. “No! Look, I know I’m being irrational, but something in my gut tells me we need her. Vella found her and kept her alive. Josh, you rescued them both. She appears to have vowed to serve you from now on. Even if we don’t bring her into the harem right now, we must have the conversation.”

“We could just have a bath and fuck about,” Cassandra said.

“Yes,” Vella said, splashing.

“I’ll go and talk to her,” Josh said. “Are we sure we want her in?”

“Do you want her in?” Arabella asked.

How many beautiful assassins will we come across?

“Yes,” he said.

“Well, go get her.”

Josh left the carriage. Most of him wanted to stay there, but a part of him, his gut, told him Arabella was right. Each addition to his harem had come through attraction first, but he’d got to know them well before hopping into bed with them. It seemed his harem had gone from two to three to four quickly, and to jump straight to five would be too fast. But the reality of it was different. They’d been at four girls for a couple of months. They’d taken on the three trials the elves had set. They’d formed their lodge, and they’d traveled through Mythelore. If anything, the harem had spent the most time at four. But, while Lex was as sexy as hell, he didn’t know her like he’d known Arabella, Cassandra, Elowen or Vella.

He marched across the courtyard, wondering where he’d find her. Before he’d gone twenty paces, she’d fallen into step with him.

“I’ll be honest, I thought you’d last longer than that. You could try thinking about Candour or something like that,” she said.

“That would do it, but we never got that far. Look, is there a place around here we could get a drink?”

“There’s a tavern a couple of miles away on the Northern Road. It’s large, probably crowded, but most folks have run out of money, so the bar will be empty.”

“A couple of miles away?”

“I could borrow a couple of horses. The stableboys won’t refuse me.”

“I’ll get my sword.”

“You won’t need it. They know me there.”

Josh sat in the corner. Lex sat close. He noted her positioning. While it had appeared random, she could see every part of the tavern. It was a traveler’s rest, but many refugees from Califire had camped nearby. As Lex had predicted, money was running short, and the bar area was pretty empty.

“What’s on your mind? If you want a bit of space, I can do that. If you want me to stop looking out for you, I suppose I can do that, too. It’ll be hard, but I’ll do it.”

“I want to know why,” Josh said, running his finger around the rim of his mug. “What makes you think you have some kind of debt you owe me?”

“It’s no debt,” she said, sipping her water. “It’s my life. You saved it, so it's yours as long as you want it.”

Josh pondered her words, knowing they came from deep within her. “Is it a cultural thing? You’re…”

“Intersian. Yes, we believe if we’re shown any mercy in battle, our lives belong to our captors. Intersians are tribal. We fight, and we must fight to the death.”

“But if you can’t and are captured?”

“Then our enemy has shown us mercy and becomes our friend. It happens rarely as to be incapacitated in battle is shame itself. It happened for me when you came and rescued me.”

“What happened that night?”

“I was holding my position, waiting for them to confirm their guilt. We’d set them up, but I wanted confirmation. As far as I can tell, the beast attacked, and the floodwater came. It sent me flying. A roofbeam fell, but I could do nothing and watched it drop, snapping both my legs before bouncing away.”

“Ouch,” Josh said.

She smirked. “Trust me, you’ve never felt pain like it. Have you ever broken a bone?”

He stifled his grin. “Broken a few,” he said.

“So, there I was, and there they were. My clothes left little doubt about my profession. They stripped me of my weapons and were debating how much suffering I’d endure before they’d finally kill me when Vella strolled in like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. I think only her casual attitude prevented them from killing us both immediately. That and they wondered what it would be like to screw an elf. She healed me, but I lay there and pretended it hadn’t worked, and then you burst onto the scene.”

“So, in theory, I didn’t save you because you could have saved yourself.”

She scoffed. “It doesn’t work like that. You put yourself in danger to save me without knowing a thing about me. Yes, I might have beaten a couple of them, maybe three, perhaps four, but we’ll never know, so my code says I owe you my life.”

“Well, I’m not sure about that. I think it’s fifty-fifty.” Josh sipped his ale. “Anyway, I release you from your vow.”

“You cannot.”

“But I can order you not to protect me?”

“You can banish me from your sight. If you do that, you will never see me again, and I will live my life in eternal shame."

“Well, I don’t want that to happen.”

“What do you want?”

Josh grimaced. “You see, that’s the problem. If I ask you, I must know your answer comes from the heart, not some sense of duty you carry.”

“My only duty is to protect your life at all costs.”

“What do you think of the girls?”

She shrugged. “Cassandra makes me laugh. Arabella has a strength of character she keeps well hidden. Vella is sweet and caring. I could cuddle her like a pet. Elowen? She’s fine, but I’ve seen less of her than the others.”

“The Misfits,” he said.

“Your monster hunting group.”

“Yes. There’s me and the girls, Thadius and Simmalion. Then we have the fairies led by Dinsy and Lyra. Thadius has brought two along, but at the moment, we are keeping them a secret, so we have them if we need them. We have a guild house in Endover located by the Hangsane.”

“Okay,” she said. “I could have found all that out. Why are you telling me now?”

Josh told her all about his system for taking monsters down. “What you see here is it in action on a much grander scale. We’ve broken up the battle, formed a plan, and are about to enact it. It was my dream before all this King business came about to get to the root cause of all the monster incursions. I want to venture into the Hangsane. I’m convinced the monsters are coming from there.”

“And you want me to come?”

“I want you to join us.”

“The Misfits?”

“Everything.”

She flushed, looking away quickly, holding her breath. “What do the girls think?”

“It was their idea.”

“So, not yours? You don’t want me?”

He reached for her but drew back, uncertain if she was rejecting him.

“I’ve watched you. You’re very desirable. But I don’t know you well. I think it’s because you’re always on duty or see me as a duty. You certainly don’t see me as an equal. I’m not going to be deceitful. I don’t know you enough to love you, but I can certainly see it if you’d let me in.”

She turned; her wide eyes filled with doubt. “I’m not worthy of this.”

“But you are,” he said.

“Yes.”

Chapter Ten

THEY ENTERED THE CARRIAGE. Vella and Arabella looked up. “This is Lex,” Josh said.

“We know who she is!” Arabella said. “Have you said yes? Sit, sit next to me.” She led Lex to the table.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Josh said. “Why don’t you explain, Lex?”

Lex sat and explained everything she’d told Josh.

“So, you only guard him because it’s a duty? I thought you fancied him. You always watched him.”

“I was guarding him. How else could I perform my duty?”

Arabella poured some wine, but Lex declined. “I cannot drop my guard.”

Arabella pushed the wine to her. “Let me tell you about these carts. No one can enter who isn’t invited. So, Josh is entirely safe all the while he’s in here.”

“But I can’t afford a headache in the morning.”

“Me heal you. Me fill you full of vigor. You’ll be fine.”

“Just relax, Lex. We’ll talk this through,” Josh said. “There’s no pressure.”

“But there is,” Lex said. “Because I want to say yes more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. But I have a duty to you. I must make sure any choice is right for you.”

“Drink,” Arabella said.

“Yes, drink,” Josh said. “Because I’m not as vulnerable as you think I am.”

Lex finally gave in and drank some wine. “So, are you a secret wizard?” she asked him.

“Close,” he said as he sat. “Your oath binds you to me, yes?”

“So if I tell you something and I want it kept a secret, you’ll keep it?”

“I’d die before I told a soul.”

Josh held Arabella’s gaze for a moment. “Okay. What I’m about to tell you stays between us. I made a mistake and told someone I hardly knew once. I thought I could trust him, and that’s how Candour knows.”

“I had a feeling he had something on you.”

“I’m unsure how much. He’s made vague hints, but only once.”

“That’s his playbook. He’ll not use anything until you make him.” She cocked her head. “You let me know if that happens, and I’ll make it go away.”

Josh grimaced. “I can fight my own battles.”

She took another drink. “But if you get accused of killing him, it affects your political position. If I do it, it reinforces it.”

“A fine point if you think I have any political aspirations.”

“Politics rarely gives you a choice,” she said. “So, you have something to tell me.”

“Yes,” Josh said, pouring more wine.

He told her everything, leaving nothing out, deploying no metaphors. He told her of the pain he’d had to suffer to advance, of the cultists, the necrotic wolves. He told her everything, and she was silent the whole time.

She held his ring. “This gives you all that power?”

“It does, but it demands a lot in return. I haven’t advanced much since the lizards, but I haven’t been ripped apart either, and the two are quite often linked.”

“You broke every bone in your body?”

“Twice, I think. That’s my whole body, though. I’ve broken multiple bones a couple of other times.”

“Shit!” she said, raking her hair. “The pain I felt when I snapped mine was unbearable.”

“Yeah, I zoned out pretty quickly both times.”

“So you are one off the top of your first grade.”

“Yes.”

“And there are four more?”

“Yes.”

“So you could be…”

“He could be immortal,” Arabella said.

She sat back. “That’s a lot to take in. So, I’ve been guarding a man who literally has eyes in the back of his head?”

“Yes, but another pair of eyes and ears doesn’t hurt. But listen, this isn’t why we are here talking. There is a great role for an assassin in our team. The only difference is that you’ll be sneaking up on monsters and killing them.”

“What about the harem? Why offer me that?”

“It’s complicated. Like I said in the tavern, it’s an option. You’re a beautiful woman. Any man would be proud to have you as a partner, but our bond—mine, Elowen, Arabella, Vella and Cassandra—it’s special. We can’t disrupt what we have, but all of us feel that in time, you could be a good fit, and if you fit in one, it’s preferable that you fit in the other too.”

“You’ve been sneaking more than the odd peak,” Arabella said. “We’ve noticed. You’re interest in Josh hasn’t been all about his safety.”

“Seen you,” said Vella. “Seen you looking at his ass licking your lips.”

“I have not,” she said, shaking her head.

“Have.”

“Maybe once?”

“More,” Vella insisted. “It’s okay.”

Lex downed her drink, inhaling hard. “Okay, you’ve been truthful with me. I’m going to return the courtesy. Here’s a thing I’ve battled with. Yes, it’s true. I have been looking, and yes, I have been lusting—to myself. I’ve made no moves. Josh was taken, is taken, and I respect that. What I wasn’t sure of was this. Was my infatuation solely because he saved my life? Did the debt and the lust, love, whatever you call it, go hand in hand? I don’t know. All I do know is that he doesn’t love me yet—not like he loves you, Arabella, or you, Vella. What I want in this is immaterial. What is good for him is all that drives me.”

Arabella grinned. “Then we have no problem. Join us. Everything else will fall into place. He won’t make a move until it’s right for him. He didn’t with Vella or Elowen. Cassandra and Josh literally had to be forced together and look how that turned out. If you find you don’t love him—that it was only duty, then you go your own way. In the mean time, you’re an associate. You’re part of the team.”

“I can do that. I’ll prove myself to you.”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me.” He drained his wine. “Just stick around and see what happens. Anyway, nothing can happen until we beat that monster. We need a virgin, and you’re it.”

Arabella laughed. “Oh, how naive you are. We always have Melody as a backup.”

“Melody? But she’s adamant that she isn’t.”

“Ha! She only said that to make you think she was experienced.”

“What does she care what I think? The girl hates me.”

“Hates you?” Arabella smirked. “She fancies the ass off you. She just won’t admit it to herself.”

“What?” Josh said. “Come on!”

“Melody loves Josh,” said Vella. “Me tired. Going to bed.”

Vella slipped her two-piece off and jumped into bed. “Who’s coming?”

Arabella yawned. “I’d best hit the sack. I’ve got another day practicing tomorrow.”

“Melody?” Josh said, still stunned.

“Girls are odd.” Vella snickered.

“I’ll get off then,” Lex said.

Josh gave her a sideways glance. “You can stay if you want. You’re part of the family now. Sleep on the sofa, in the bed, up to you. If you want to go, then go. Remember, all the time we’re in here, we’re safe. I’ll add you to our party, and any danger comes within twenty yards, and I’ll know about it.”

“You mean I don’t have to sleep with one eye open?”

“Not so long as you’re close to me.”

“A girl could get used to that kind of attention.”

Arabella slipped out of her clothes and slid into bed. Josh pulled his top off, hesitated, stripped, and slid in next to Arabella. Vella clambered over the top of them both and snuggled next to Josh.

Lex stared at the three of them. “You really have got everything worked out, haven’t you?”

“Not even close. But it’s safe in here, and that’s as good as it gets. When you come to our lodge in Endover, you’ll understand why I’m not interested in being King.”

“What if they give you no choice?”

“There’s always a choice. We’ll make it together when we come to it.”

She sat on the sofa, kicking her boots off and lying down. “Sounds good,” she said as Arabella snuffed the light out.

Josh woke when Lex screamed. His vision was clear, devoid of a colored veil that indicated danger, so he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He slid down the bed, padding over to the sofa. “What’s up?”

“Bad dream,” she said. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t sleep.”

He grabbed a towel, wrapping it around himself. “You okay?”

She inhaled. “Yeah, I will be. It’s a daft nightmare. Part of the reason I ended up working for Candour. My father sold me to him when I was six. He trained me up. If I sleep, I always remember that night. My father punching me—then me waking up, a strange man looking over me.”

“Candour abducted you?”

“No, I just said. My father sold me. I come from a long line of assassins. Females usually specialize in poisons and the like. Candour wanted someone who’d be loyal to him and him alone, so he needed a person without a family—with nothing. He always picks Intersian assassins. We have our price, and it’s low.”

“That’s terrible,” Josh said.

Lex clasped her hands together. “No, not really. I’d probably be dead already if I’d stayed. We always start battles with waves of assassins infiltrating the enemy camps. It’s kind of pointless because they know we’re coming. Assassin fights assassin, and that often settles who wins.”

“So Candour saved you?”

“Indirectly, but not like you. He knew that my loyalties would switch when I told him how you’d rescued me. He didn’t even bother asking me to spy on you because he knew I would kill him if he did.”

“So, why the nightmare?”

“Because I wake up over and over, and I never know who looks down at me. The faces change, but they’re always strangers.”

“You never have to worry about that again. If anything, you’ll get fed up with familiar faces looking down at you. I can’t remember the amount of times I’ve woken up to see Vella or Cassandra staring down at me or Elowen giving me a—” He paused. “Never mind.”

She laughed, covering her mouth. “Sorry, and thank you for everything. I’m a bit awkward around all this familiarity. I’ve never had a family. Not since that day.”

Josh stood. “Then lean on Cassandra a bit. Her story and yours aren’t dissimilar. We’re all misfits. That’s why we picked the name.”

“I’ll try. I’ll try real hard,” she said.

“But that’s the point. It’s not about trying. It’s all about not trying. Try that.” He leaned down, his finger under her chin, and he lifted her face slightly. “Good night, Lex.” He kissed her, just briefly. “You know where we are if you get lost.”

Josh shifted Vella over and slid back into bed. He closed his eyes but couldn’t scrub Lex from his imagination.

She’s got to you!

Because you know it’s right!

He sighed, drifting off, Vella’s gentle snores soothing him.

“Josh?”

Lex’s voice drifted over him.

“What’s up?”

“Can I come in?”

He opened his eyes. She stood by the bed, her dark skin outlined with silver, her breasts defiant, and her eyes filled with nerves as she bit her lip.

“You come in, and you never leave,” he said, breathless.

She slid in, and he wrapped her in his arms.

“I don’t want to leave, ever.”

Her tears dripped onto his chest.

Chapter Eleven

JOSH LEANED SIDEWAYS AS he tried to picture the sluice gates in action. Vast wooden panels slid between iron rails angled upstream toward the river’s center.

"Okay, I give up," he said. "Explain it all."

Harrogate became animated the instant Josh's words landed. "Glad you asked. At first, I confess, I was a bit stuck on how to do it. As far as I know, no one has ever tried to block off a river. Then." He slapped his head theatrically. "Then I realized I wasn't blocking off the river. I was merely dividing its course into two and diverting it. So, I came up with this idea. It's pretty simple. First, we slide back the two gates blocking the relief channels."

He signaled with a bright yellow flag, and the gates slid open. "We're using donkeys rather than horses to get a more even pull. Once the side gates are open, the handlers change their tethers and switch. The team that pulled the left-hand bank's gate is then attached to the right-hand deflector and vice versa."

A steady stream partly filled the new channel, but most of the river continued flowing past. Once tethered, the donkey teams took up the slack on the ropes. Harrogate waved his yellow flag again, and the donkeys began pulling. The diagonal gates slid into the river, immediately diverting an ever-increasing amount of water down the side channels.

"As you can see, we can stop at any time. As they are angled upstream, the pressure on them is much less than if we'd simply blocked the river. Also, there is little risk of surging. Everything is gradual. Once the gates meet at their point, we can brace as needed, but if you need more than a few minutes of dry riverbed, something's gone terribly wrong."

"You're right there."

"The whole structure does have another advantage that you might wish to commence work on right away."

"What's that?"

"Well. We can empty the river at will. It might be a good time to build a new bridge, although I would suggest one further upstream?"

"That's a fantastic idea. I don't suppose you have any bridge designs you want to try out?"

Harrogate chuckled. "I think, in this instance, speed and simplicity are best. I'll have the stonemasons start on the pillars immediately. It'll be a good test for the channels to have them hold for a while."

"Great work, Harrogate. Great work."

Harrogate tugged his sleeve. "You could do me a favor if you don't mind."

"Anything."

"Give Melody a little more leeway. She's a strange mix—not your typical woman. She's lost a lot looking after me."

"How do you mean?"

"She has no idea how to be around people but desperately wants friends. Look how she loves Arabella and Elowen yet hardly spends time with them."

"Which makes me wonder what she's up to?"

Harrogate scoffed. "Since she learned about the Misfits, she hasn’t stopped designing traps and gizmos to kill all types of monsters. It’s how she fits in without having to join in. Does that make sense?”

“I’ll see what I can do, but she can be quite hostile toward me.”

“She’s been on her own for a long time, Josh. She’ll take some coaxing out, but if you manage it, you’ll have a fierce friend, and when I say fierce, I mean she’ll be loyal to her dying day.”

“I’ll try,” he promised.

Josh looked over the river. His pride swelled. The number of people pulling in the same direction to make his grand plan work was incredible. He’d almost forgotten about Ravenheart and the monster incursions, focusing solely on the leviathan.

“I need to move on,” he said. “We need to get this done.”

But that feeling was only part of him. Another part, a growing force, wanted to see Califire rebuilt. He spun on his heels and headed back to the compound.

“What’s troubling you?” Lex asked, falling into step with him.

“Guilt, I think. I’m seeing all this, and it’s getting to me. But then a thousand things fall on my shoulders.”

“Like what?”

“I’m wondering what’s going on in Endover. I’m wondering what monsters are slipping through the net and slaughtering villagers across Mythelore and Alianthia.” He paused. “I’m wondering if there is any way we can detect monster activity.”

He ducked into Elowen’s carriage, asking Lex to stay outside. Melody sat at the desk, scribbling furiously, then looking up. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Yeah. I want a chat.”

She sighed. “What about? What do you want done now?”

“Look, I know we have our differences—”

“We do.”

“I meant what I said. I like having you around.”

“Why? Because I’m the best alchemist you know? You don’t know any others. You want me on your team, but barring a few explosions, you’ve not seen me do anything. Or do you want me because I’ve got tits?”

Josh sat, wanting to tear her head off, but he held his tongue, speaking softly when he replied. “You’re right, of course. I don’t know if you’re any good. The thing is, you’re missing the point. Where I come from, a hell of a lot of people say they’re great at their job, and they convince you they are, too. So, you think they are, and they might be for a while, but then lose interest, or they weren’t as good as they said they were. You’re either stuck with them then, or you part ways.”

“Some people are liars. What’s that got to do with me?”

“Simple. Thadius recommended your father to me. He regretted the way he’d treated him—says he should have sided with him and gone against all the thinkers that rejected your father’s theories. Arabella claims Thadius is the best monster hunter in Mythelore—better than Calico Rayne. But he, Thadius, the best of the best, said that Harrogate was the real deal—your father—not you. So, I wanted him. I wanted his insight and advice. I thought that with him and Thadius to lean on, we’d have a better chance.”

“You want my father rather than me? Or am I the inconvenient package that comes with him?”

“Neither. I haven’t finished my story. Then they told me about you—Harrogate’s daughter. Bear in mind that we didn’t even know if Harrogate was still alive. Arabella told me he had a daughter and that she was widely regarded as the best alchemist in Mythelore.”

“Alchemy is hardly difficult.”

“It is for most. Elowen sung your praises. They both said you’d fit in—even trying to tempt me with how cute you were. But to me, that’s not the point.”

“So, what is?” She sat back, resting her boots on the table. “What’s your point?”

“First and foremost, I need people to protect what I’ve got. That will do their job, think on their feet—I need people that prevent other team members dying, not cause it.”

“But you didn’t know the first thing about me.”

“But I did. Getting back to where I come from. Recommendation: if someone was recommended to you, you grabbed that person with both hands, and you didn’t let them go.”

She steepled her hands, entwining her fingers and then stretching. “So, I came recommended to you by two people who don’t know the first thing about alchemy, and you grabbed it with both hands.”

“No. I was after the daughter of Harrogate Delaney. I assumed that if you were half the thinker that Thadius said Harrogate was, I’d have the best available. If I’m honest, I didn’t give a fuck if you were cute, pretty, ugly, deformed—”

“All right, I get the picture.”

“So where are we?”

“Where are we?” Melody asked.

“Yep. Last time we spoke, I said I wanted you to stick around, but you didn’t appear receptive. The offer still stands. You can base yourself in Endover and have all the funds you need to develop your ideas. You can come on monster takedowns or stay back at the base. We can arrange a room if you want to live in the lodge. If you want your mobile lab, I can also arrange that. But there’s one thing I can’t have: you being disrespectful to my arrangement with the girls.”

“Your harem.”

“My harem.”

“Why?”

“Because they each mean the world to me. Because they aren’t just my lovers; they are my friends. Because I’d give my life for any of them and take the life of any who dared cross them. I don’t want to have to class you as their enemy.”

She held her tongue momentarily. “You’ve got me all wrong,” she said. “I don’t hate your harem. My two dearest friends come to rescue me and nearly blow us all up. Then there’s you, their leader, a man I’d never heard of who appeared to think himself invincible. You didn’t come with recommendations. You were just this dick with an oversized sword who’d somehow trapped my girls and lured them into your harem. That’s what I thought. That’s what I saw.”

“Then you shouldn’t be ashamed because you were looking out for your friends.”

She pursed her lips. “Ashamed? I wasn’t ashamed. I’m not ashamed.” She thrust her head into her hands, scrunching her hair up. “Gah! You’re infuriating!”

He grinned. “Aren’t I?” Standing, he leaned on the table. “I may be a dick with an oversized sword, but I know how to have fun. I’m going to carve out a fantastic life for me, Arabella, Elowen, Cassandra, Vella and Lex. We’re going to slaughter monsters, drink ale and fuck our way across Mythelore, and if that’s not to your liking, then go your own way. But if you want to come. If you want to be part of it. Then you know where to find me.”

She stood, planting her hands on the table, glaring at him. “You’re screwing Lex, too?”

He glared back at her, their faces nearly touching. “Not yet!”

“But you will!” she shouted.

“Yes, I will!” he replied. “Lots!”

They stared at each other as a strange silence fell.

Melody’s lips twitched toward a smile.

“I’m going to laugh now,” she said, deadpan.

“Me too!” he said, falling backward, laughing so hard he slipped over and landed on the floor.

Melody sat back in her chair, howling. She toppled over, crashing to the ground and lying, her arms splayed out to the side as she convulsed. Josh rose to his knees, holding his sides. She rolled over onto all fours, crawling around the table. She pointed at him, tears streaming down her face. “Are you going to screw every Misfit?”

He heaved, trying to get his words out. “Thadius? No!” Tears streamed down his face as he righted himself and crawled toward her. “Bony ass!”

“Guess that rules Dad out, too!” she said, crawling closer.

Josh blinked. The image of Harrogate sobering him. Melody stopped laughing, screwing her face up.

“Fifty-fifty,” Josh said, laughing again.

Melody grabbed him, pulling him close, her lips on his, her tongue sliding into his mouth, met and countered by his. Josh fought with her dungarees as she stripped him of his jacket. She pulled him close, then pushed him back, kneeling over him as she pinned him to the carriage floor. “Don’t you have to clear this with the others?” she asked, unfastening her dungarees.

“Not sure you count,” Josh said, pulling his pants down and unleashing his cock.

“Why not?” she asked, ripping her shirt off and then falling on him, her tongue probing again, finding his.

He grabbed her, lifting her off him and spinning her around. He pulled her dungarees off, spreading her legs and palming her pussy. “They wanted you in any way. Who doesn’t love a chick that blows shit up?”

“Fucking right,” she said, then jerked as his fingers slid inside her. She reached down, grabbing his dick. “Fuck! Yeah|! Fuck yeah!” Her fingers ran up and down his length. “And they let me get away with the small dick joke.”

“You know why?” he asked, planting his hands on either side of her head.

“Why,” she asked, as he pressed his tip against her sopping wet pussy.

“Because you’re a hot chick that blows shit up!” He grinned and pressed, sliding in, surprised when he reached her hymen instantly.

“Fuck,” she said. “Don’t you fucking dare tell the others.”

He forced his cock through, sliding home in as she gasped in surprise. “Tell them what? That you were a virgin?” He pushed back, trying to grind every last inch into her. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Why,” she asked, biting her lip, then gasping. “Because I’m a hot chick that blows shit up?”

“No, because you’re a Misfit, and we stick together.” He withdrew until only his crown remained inside her. “How would you like it?”

“What are my options?”

“Fast and fucking furious or slow and loving.”

“Fast and fucking furious,” she said.

“You got it.” He plunged back in, immediately withdrawing, then sliding back in again. She screamed, the pain too much. He pounded her, regardless. Her cries turned to whimpers, turned to groans. Josh took no notice, ramming into her, his need to cum overtaking all else—his desire to possess her overriding any urge to impress her with his prowess. She clawed at his back, the pain a delightful relief, focusing him as his entire length came alive with pleasure, her tight pussy clamping him like a vice.

“Fuck,” she cried, her cheeks red, goggles askew. She raked him from his ass to his shoulders. “Oh my fucking god!” She cried as she reached over her head and grabbed the desk’s leg. Her knees squeezed his ass as he drove his dick into her over and over. “Fuck, fuck, fuckitty fuck!”

He pulled out, pulling her over and onto all fours. He pulled her legs apart, nudged his cock in then grabbed her hair. “Fast and furious.”

“Fast and furious,” she said, her teeth gritted as he slid in.

“All the way!” he cried. Pumping her, shoving her forward, but holding her in place by the hair. “You like that!”

“Oh, fuckin’ yes!” she said, cramping again and again as he pounded her relentlessly.

“That’s it!” he cried. “Come on, baby, come for me!”

“I’m there. I’m there. I’mmmmm there! Yarrgh!”

Josh let out a cry as he exploded, cum gushing into her in a never-ending stream.

He froze. She froze.

A cool breeze drifted over them.

He turned. She turned.

Arabella, Elowen, Cassandra and Vella looked in.

“Welcome to our family,” Arabella said, smiling from ear to ear.

“About time, Mels!” said Elowen.

“Bells, Els and now Mels?” Cassandra rolled her eyes. “It’s going to be unbearable.”

“Renew!” Vella shouted. “Have fun.”

They shut the door.

Chapter Twelve

“YOU’RE NOT PISSED?” Josh asked, sitting up in bed, Arabella cuddled up to him.

“Pissed because you somehow got one of my greatest friends to join our family when it looked like it would never happen?” She kissed him. “How could I be pissed?”

“I thought there was a certain way we had to go about things.”

“You’re in charge. You know that. My only input is when you have doubts. You had none with Melody—surprisingly. Have you seen her now? She’s changed. Hell, I caught her smiling this evening. She joined in, Josh. She’s never done that before.”

“Yeah, she seemed a lot happier, and her and Elowen are pulling an all-nighter designing that ballista-garrote thing.”

“That looks evil!” Arabella said.

“Real evil,” Vella said. “Choppy-choppy tentacles.”

He settled back. “Lex has chilled a bit too. She came up with a few good ideas.”

“She’s an assassin. Killing things is her business.”

“Not anymore.”

“What?”

“She’s not an assassin anymore. I had a chat with her after I met up with Melody. We went for a walk. I wanted to make sure she was okay with everything. She’s had a shit life. Anyway, we got into it, and before I knew it, we’d walked to the tavern. We had a drink, and that’s when I told her I didn’t want her to be an assassin anymore.”

“So, what is she?” Arabella shifted around and faced him. “If she’s not an assassin, what is she?”

“She’s the same. She’s just free of her past. I had to get rid of the confusion. If Candour had ordered her to kill the Franks woman or any of the Lords, it could have caused her a quandary. Does being in our family alter her employment? Did she still work for Candour, even though she protected me? I wanted her to know I had her back. So, we had a drink, and then we found Candour and told him.”

“And what did he have to say?”

Josh scoffed. “What I expected him to. He’s got some moves, I’ve no doubt about that, but when faced with Lex and me, he’s hardly likely to start a fight. Time will tell with him. He thinks he’s got something on me because he knows about the ring, and Carl might have told him more before he got wiped by the leviathan, but I’ll be honest, I don’t give a shit who knows.”

“About the ring?” Arabella said.

“Yes, that, no, everything. What does it matter? So, I’m not Mythelorian. Who the fuck cares? And if I get my power from the ring, and they all know, so what?”

“Are you sure?”

He paused. “Yes. Yes, I am. Vella comes from Elarathon—so what? Everyone knows it. No one here cares. You all are the only ones that matter to me, and you all know where I come from—how I get my power. You know everything, and you don’t judge me. So who the fuck cares if Candour knows, or Carl told people, or the man behind the counter at the tavern up the road knows. If they don’t like it, fuck them. I spent a lot of time telling Cassandra she should be proud of herself. Lex is the same—she’s ashamed of her past. We’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. We’re Misfits. We don’t care!”

“Yes!” said Vella.

“I wonder,” Arabella said, then trailed off in thought.

“Wonder what?”

“I wonder if Candour was pushing you to be King just so he could manipulate you with what he knew—or what he thought he had over you.”

Josh pondered her words. “That is not a bad shout.” He jumped out of bed, wrapping a towel around him. Diving outside, he ran to Elowen’s carriage. “You seen Lex?”

Melody and Elowen looked up from the desk. “Not in here,” Elowen said.

He burst into Cassandra’s wagon. “Lex in here?”

She looked up from her cauldron. “Not here, sweetie, but if you want company…”

“Need to speak to her.”

“Try Thadius’ cart. I think I saw her hanging around there.”

“Okay.”

“And if you get bored…”

“I’ll be back,” he said.

“Don’t forget. We need a virgin, and we’re running out of them!”

“Got it!”

He knocked on Thadius’ door.

“Come!”

“Lex in here?”

“No, last I saw her, she was climbing onto your roof,” Thadius said. “Do I have to have Harrogate in here? He hasn’t stopped snoring. And Dinsy and Blitz are getting moody. Have we anything for them to do?”

“Might have. Tell them to get ready for a trip.”

“And Harrogate?”

“Yes. He’s all yours at the moment.” He hesitated. “There are rooms in the compound.”

Thadius sighed. “Everyone prefers the carts.”

Josh turned back and headed toward his carriage.

“You wanted me?” Lex jumped down from the roof.

“Yes.” He blinked and shook his head. “What the hell are you doing up there?”

“I don’t have anywhere to stay, so I thought I’d sleep on the roof.”

“I need a word.” He paused. “We need to sort that out. Too many people, not enough carts.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I do.” He pulled her in. “Arabella, we need to sort out the sleeping arrangements. She was on the roof.”

“Like the roof,” Vella said.

“You’ll sleep in here until we get more carts,” Arabella said, pouring wine. “Seems we have things to discuss.”

“What do you know of Lady Franks?” Josh asked.

The sun beat down as Lex rode through the leafy forest. She had her hood drawn up, shadowing her dark face and shrouding her in anonymity. The cart bumped and bounced down the road, threatening to lose a wheel at any moment.

“You could drive slower,” Josh said from the back, his view restricted to the passing leafy canopy.

“I could, but I don’t choose to. I like the idea of your bones getting rattled.”

“They got rattled plenty enough last night,” he replied.

“Don’t rub it in. It’s quite unfair you added Melody to our harem before you’d even bedded me.”

“I thought you weren’t ready yet. I thought we weren’t ready yet.”

“Some days. But…” She paused. “I’m not hungry until there’s food in front of me. I think it’s a bit like that.”

Josh chuckled. “Good analogy. How long until we get to Mid Loren?”

“Any time now.”

“So, we could lose the cart?”

Lex laughed. “Perhaps. Candour has spies everywhere, but he’s a frugal man. Most can only perform one thing. At the moment, they’re looking for suspicious folks coming toward Califire, not away from it.”

“Then what the hell am I still lying in the back for?”

“I thought you were sleeping.”

Josh rose, stretching. "I think I might have dozed off. It was a busy day, and racing across Califire wasn't on my agenda for the night." He joined her on the cart's bench.

"How many more have you planned for your…harem."

"Our family," Josh pointed out. "You are part of it."

"But I still feel like an outsider."

He rested his hand on her knee. "I can see that. Melody, Elowen and Arabella all knew each other, so they will always be tight. I've been through a lot with Vella. We nearly died a few times, and Cassandra and I have fought together a few times—I get her completely."

"What chance have I got?"

"Every chance. I have my team now—the perfect monster-hunting team. We don’t need anyone else.” He paused. “We're just starting out, Lex. We've got our adventures ahead of us.”

"Looks like they're about to begin," she said.

The trail led through a tree tunnel, a horseshoe of bright light at its end. A single rider blocked the way, but Josh's perception told him more lurked in the trees. The rider turned his horse sideways to the trail, making his intention to block their path clear. Lex pulled their cart to a stop.

"A lady of Intersia is confused, eh?" He said, his words flowing into one. He was relaxed, with a smile that spilled mischief before him.

"This lady is not, but well recognized."

"Knowing the neighbors is grand, is it not?"

"So, not a common forest bandit?"

"Not a common one, no." He leaned forward. "You Intersian. Can see that, can I? But what him? Him is not a common look. No Mythelorian in his pants or his Da’s."

"I can speak for myself," Josh said.

"Then, why don’t you?"

"I'm from beyond the Hangsane. Let us pass, or you will see the power those mountains hold back."

The bandit inclined his head. "I have—"

"Four bows trained on me. Two more mounted men to my right. There's a couple in the thicket, perhaps melee, too close for archers. Slings?" Josh grinned. "There are two of us, ten of you, and yet I outnumber you."

The man appeared unperturbed by his words. "She’s the one with the moxy." He shifted. "But you, eh? Can yous pack a punch?"

“I can.”

The man shadow boxed. “I fancy the challenge, big man. Do you know out about Mid Loren?”

“I am a stranger here,” he said. “I’d never even heard of the place until I came to Califire.”

“Tell you what. What about I fight you? You win, then I’ll let yous leave. Lose, I get her warming me cot.”

“She isn’t a prize.”

“Aye, but say this, big man. Say you’re dead. She’d get a couple of me brothers. No doubt about tha. But she’d not get ‘em all. So, she’d be mine before breakfast. Talkin’ of breakfast, I’m starvin’. Can we get on?”

Josh stood, but Lex pulled him back down, whispering in his ear. “Don’t humiliate him.”

He shot her a look, questioning it, then jumping down. Shedding his jacket, he closed the distance between them. “You ready then.”

The man appraised him. “What’d she say? Tell you to lie down quick, did she?” He jumped down. “Hangsane cock no good fer her?”

“Too big,” Josh said.

The man roared, pointing at him. “Tha’s a good one, tha. Name’s Micky, and yous can call me that. I’ll allow it.”

He dismounted. “Come on out, boys. Though a couple of ya, Don and Gent, you stay back and keep yer arrows on her. Don’t want no funny business.” He raised his fists, dancing around the mud. “We ready, are we?”

“Any rules?” Josh asked, matching his stance and jinking around.

“Just one. I get all yer stuff.”

“Even if I win? Seems a bit unfair.”

He laughed. “That’s a good one, tha. Tha’s two.”

He feinted, jinking to the left, then darting across, punching but pulling it before walking in a wide semicircle. He darted in, punching and pulling again, backing away and walking up and down.

“Yous got some reflexes on you, boy. You’re quick.”

“I am.”

“And yer confident. Yous never heard of Micky Spelaney?”

“Perhaps your reputation hasn’t reached the Hangsane yet.”

“That would surprise me, so it would. Will after I put you down, eh?”

“We’ll see.”

Micky darted in, shadow punching, retreating, then surging in again, a flurry of punches landing on Josh’s jaw. He stepped back, shaking his hand out. “Bugger me, that’s a jaw yous got there. Get a blacksmith to make it, did you?”

“Something like that,” Josh said.

Micky walked up and down, his fists by his side. “Your nose’ll still shatter. It’s a weak point.” He rushed in, throwing more punches. Josh saw them coming, ducking and swerving each, then landing a solid punch to Micky’s gut.

The Mid Loren doubled over, exhaling. “Fuck me,” he rasped. “Yous got a boulder in that fist of yours, eh?”

“You wanna just let us pass?”

“Do I shite!” Micky said. “It doesn’t stop until one of us is on the ground.”

“Do I get all your stuff?”

Micky smirked. “Fella, I haven’t got fuck all, but get me on the ground, you’re welcome to all of it.” He jumped in again. Josh let a couple of punches land before hitting him squarely on the chin.

Micky staggered back, stretching his jaw and clicking it back into place. “What the fuck do you lot eat over those hills? Lumps of iron?”

“Something like that.”

Josh moved forward, ready to get the fight over with. Micky rushed in, diving to Josh’s left, then coming to his feet, springing back and hammering into the back of Josh’s knees. But Josh saw the move coming, locking his knees and turning. “That ain’t going to work.” Josh picked him up, drawing his fist back and punching the man. “But that might.”

Even though he pulled his punch, Micky went down like a sack of potatoes.

“He’ll be out for a while. If anyone else wants to try me, then now's the time to say. Otherwise, I suggest you let us pass.” When no one spoke, Josh jumped up on the cart. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I thought I said not to humiliate him.”

“I tried. But hell, he didn’t even tickle me.”

“You’re that strong?”

“I’m stuck at this strong. Need a few good monster fights to get stronger.” He grinned. The fight had reaffirmed just how far he’d progressed.

“Not sure you need a bodyguard,” she said.

They left the forest, a broad patchwork of rolling fields spreading before them. The trail led northeast, and in the distance, a dark shadow indicated a city. “Mid Loren,” Lex said. “I’ll say one thing about Lady Franks: she runs a tidy kingdom. The cities are properly drained. Taxes are fair, and she doesn’t put up with any shit.”

“Then how come Micky plies his trade out in the open?”

“Simple. She sanctions it. Like all rulers, she wants to know who enters and leaves her kingdom. We were always likely to draw some attention. As he said, some of your features don’t match Mythelore. We would never get through if they had the road covered.”

“Which is highly likely given what’s happened. Anything else I should know?”

“Etiquette. The province runs on a strict etiquette. Even Micky was polite as he tried to beat you to a pulp. Rudeness is not tolerated. Murder is fine as long as it is in revenge and that revenge is justified. The Goddess Morgan is worshipped above all, but they’ll not expect you to fake any allegiance to her—quite the opposite. Any falsehood is discouraged. They only tolerate genuine people.”

“It sounds like the perfectly run province.”

“It’s not everyone’s choice. Most people like a bit of grit and grime, even if they pretend not to. Mid-Lorens aren’t known for their creativity. Some find the place stifling.”

“What about you?”

“I can last a few days, no more than that. Fortunately, I’ve only ever passed through.”

“Fortunately, we need to make this trip quick.

Chapter Thirteen

JOSH PULLED at his jacket as Lex dusted it down.

“I suddenly feel underdressed,” he said.

“Lady Franks’ court is formal. It always has been, but then her harem stretches generations. I’ve heard there are up to a hundred men in it.”

Josh grunted. “Not only runs a tight ship, she enjoys herself too.”

“Yes. Each of her husbands dresses immaculately. They live by a code that dictates everything from their dress to their personal hygiene. I find it quite confusing.”

“Why?” Josh asked.

“Because they all become the same. They speak alike. They dress alike. Imagine if Cassandra and Arabella were identical. What would be the point?”

Josh grunted. “There’s always the twins' fantasy,” Josh pointed out. “I can’t think of a man who hasn’t dreamed about having identical twins in bed.”

She laughed. “Then remind me to introduce you to my sister.” She walked away, wiggling her ass.

“Wait! What? You have a twin?”

She glanced over her shoulder, winking. “Come on. We don’t want to be late.”

They strolled from their lavish quarters, along an opulent hallway and down a sweeping staircase. A manservant led them through manicured gardens to a large awning with a round table fully laid with fine china and silver cutlery.

“Lady Franks will be along presently. Would you like refreshments?”

Josh sat, the scents of a dozen different flowers wafting over him. “Is that orange juice?”

“It is. Two?”

Lex nodded.

“She won’t be long.” The man retired.

“Is all this necessary?” Josh asked. “I’m as confused as you are. I fully expected to be blown off, given some lowly courtier and sent on our way. I assumed we’d then have to fight our way to Franks, killing half of her personal guard.”

“Could you have managed it?” a voice said.

Lady Franks appeared on the terrace, an open basket in hand, filled with bright red apples. She was as elegant as Josh had imagined. Her turquoise dress was immaculate, with white lace stitched into its hems, cuffs and collar. Her hair was up, gray plats forming a neat crown punctured with daisies.

“Without a doubt,” Lex said cooly, standing and bowing. “We could have killed them all, but we’d have spared half.”

Uncertain of the custom, Josh bowed too but received an arched brow for his trouble.

“How very kind of you.” She lent Lex a withering smile and then stared at Josh. “It is customary for a man to kiss a lady’s hand. I shall allow the oversight because my men tell me you are not from Mythelore.”

“Or,” Josh said. “I could redress the balance.” He knelt, taking her hand and kissing it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Franks.”

“Better,” she said and sat, clapping her hands. “We shall eat. Tell me, how did you beat Micky?”

“Easily,” Josh said, sitting.

“A good enough answer, but one that leaves a bit to be desired. I used Romanies to patrol my borders. They are the most cost-effective way of doing it because it’s how they like to live. They travel the peripheries of my lands, and I pay them appropriately. Micky is their best hand-to-hand fighter by far, yet you beat him easily. You didn’t snatch a win from the jaws of defeat. According to him, you laid him out like a dead fish.”

“He tried, but he didn’t stand a chance.”

She inclined her head, then appeared to accept his words. “So, I’m not one for pleasantries, but if you wish to talk about the weather, the exceptionally long summer we’re having, or how the harvest has turned faster this year than last, I can do that with my eyes closed. I’d prefer to get straight to it.”

“Me too,” said Josh.

“But, ladies first. I have questions, Mr. Underwood.”

Josh dipped his head. “Naturally.”

“Who are you?”

It was his first test. He’d declared that he no longer cared—that his past didn’t have to be a secret. Yet, declaring it and saying it were two different things. She stared at him, waiting for his answer. Josh took a breath, but as he was about to soften his tale, as he was about to relay his Hangsane story again, a thought crossed his mind.

What the hell have I got to lose?

“My name is Josh Underwood, and I come from the stars.”

“I have to admit, I’m a little bit confused,” said Lady Franks as she held her steaming cup of tea to her lips.

“You asked, and I told you. In hindsight, a lie would have been easier. I told Micky I was from over the Hangsane. Perhaps that would have been more believable.”

She sniffed. “Anything would have been more believable. Why did you tell me? Why not lie?”

“Candour.”

“The spy?”

“The King’s Justice,” Lex said.

“There is no King,” Lady Franks said. “So there can be no King’s Justice. I’ll grant you Candour has some remaining influence, but he’s clinging on to power.”

“Through me,” Josh said. “I currently control the army, and I control it through fear.” He held his hand up as she tried to interrupt. “I have demonstrated my power to them. That power could see them obliterated on a battlefield before the fight has begun. That power is the same power that will defeat the leviathan in a few days. It is no way to rule.”

“It’s the only way to rule.”

“I disagree. This, your province, appears well run.”

“That’s because I rule through family. Each of my barons is my husband. They don’t dare display disloyalty because they spend their days wanting to warm my sheets and vying for the opportunity to do just that. If you can’t have that, then fear is the only way. If Candour wields you, then he has the fear.”

“You asked me why I told you the truth. That is why. Candour knows my origin. He knows my power stems from this ring. He believes that knowledge is power. It isn’t. He has nothing over me because I don’t care who knows. By telling you, I have taken his power from him.”

She regarded the ring. “What if someone chops your finger off?”

Josh picked up a knife. He splayed his hand on the table, stabbing the knife into his hand and then drawing it to his wrist. “What should be a bad wound is a scratch.” He held her gaze. “And now that scratch is gone. There isn’t an axe sharp enough to cut my finger off, Lady Franks. There isn’t a wound I can’t recover from, and I’m getting stronger all the time.”

“If that is so, what do you want of me, Josh? I presume you aren’t petitioning to become my eighty-sixth husband.” She waved her hand. “Yes, I know. Everyone says I have a hundred husbands, but I’m not that greedy, and they have a habit of dying.”

“I seek your counsel.”

“Why? You don’t even know me.”

“I think we’ll all agree that I only know a handful of people. So, that said, I seek your counsel because of this.” He spread his arms wide. “This is a well-run province.”

“As you’ve said a couple of times now, but all you’ve seen is my tidy fields and clean city. Who knows what I hide in my closet?”

“I’ll guess it’s tidier than most.”

“The Truskans rule their kingdom well. Seek advice from them.”

“As maybe, but I’m here. But let’s get to the meat of it all.”

“That would interest me. As I said, I have little time for pleasantries.”

“Candour will use the leviathan takedown and the presence of the army around Califire to advance my claim as King. He wishes to install me as a front man to his own government.”

She raised her hands. “Read between the lines, Josh. Listen to what you’re saying. That only tells me it’s business as usual, which suits me. You have my vote.”

Lex laughed. “I told him as much. He can’t see it. The strongest should always be King.”

“No!” Josh said. “The one who is most fit to rule should be King or Queen. Tell me, Lady Franks, what is the biggest threat to this Kingdom?”

“A war with the elves? A war with each other?”

“Wrong. I’ve only been here a few months, but I sense it’s coming—an insurrection in the South started it.”

“Started what?”

“Monsters coming through static portals. Leviathans waking. Califire gone. Harpies driven north along with Amex boars and trolls. A beast called Ravenheart driving the magical races from the Hangsane. Harrogate Delaney sees it. Something bad is happening, and it’s gathering pace. This land needs uniting, and it must unite around someone who can keep it running when everything goes to shit. That isn’t me because I’ll be busy fighting those monsters.”

“You think things are that bad?”

“Everything I’ve just listed happened since I came to this place. We have the portal stones the lizardmen used to enter Eldorwyn. They leveled a village called Nestledown. It wasn’t one monster. It wasn’t two or three. We killed just under thirty of them. If it wasn’t for the Misfits, there may well be fifty or a hundred of them roaming the south.”

“Then we need as strong a leader as possible.”

“No! You need a leader that believes this problem is real. You need someone who will listen to Harrogate. You need someone who’ll hold the place together while the army puts the fires out. You need someone who can organize the other Lords and who will back the new harmonic.”

“The witch. Yes, I heard. My wizards are a little skeptical. Two of them are harmonics.”

“Yeah, we’re going to have to come up with a test for that.”

“Like?”

“Can your wizards send lightning from their fingertips? Can they alter the course of a river? Move clouds? Cut stone with water or ride a Roc across a mountain? If they can’t do all those things, then they aren’t a harmonic.”

Franks gasped. “She can do all that?”

“She killed ten trolls nearly singlehandedly. She took down an evil sorcerer and took out two necrotic wolves. We killed all those lizards together. She’s a badass, and she’s currently teaching six young wizards to be badasses, too. Ask yourself when the last time you saw your wizards pick up two knives with their minds and drive them into an enemy’s eyes, and then ask them if they want to challenge Cassandra to a duel to prove which one is the true harmonic.”

Lady Franks finally grinned. “I would like to see that.” She picked her tea up. “But short of you not trusting Candour, I fail to comprehend why you’re here.”

“Two reasons. First, the magical. From what I see, Mythelore only encourages wizards and not witches. The last two true harmonics have been women—Simmalion and Cassandra. Why? I have no clue. But, from a purely statistical approach, it begs the question, How many opportunities are we missing? I’d suggest a complete overhaul of the magic schools to encourage all who think they have magic to come forward. Second, Mythelore needs to unite with the elves. Candour says he was working on this, but I fail to see how massing an army on their border counts for that. Mythelore needs someone who can unite itself and unite it with the elves, and then you all need to help me fight the monsters. The reason I’m here? To fuck your head up with all that information. Someone other than Candour needs to think about everything I’ve said before your meeting. I’m afraid I’ve passed that mantle to you.”

She considered his words for a while, her gaze flitting between them.

“What about you, dear. What’s an Intersian assassin doing with him? Why change your life?”

“I change because I choose to. I am with him because—” She hesitated. “Because he has cared for me more than any other.”

“Not good enough. There’s more to it than that.”

Lex bit her lip. “Because I love him,” she said and looked away.

Franks puffed her cheeks out. “A man who claims to descend from the stars. A witch who controls lightning. And now an Intersian assassin who has given up her vows for love. Three such things are auspicious indeed. What if I decide that you should be king?”

Josh sat back. “For all the right reasons?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’d have to think about it.”

Josh shut the door behind him. Lex stopped in the middle of the room. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“What for?” He leaned back against the door, giving her some space.

“Saying that. I didn’t mean to weaken your position.”

“You didn’t.” He walked toward her, but she moved away, looking out the window at the star-filled sky. “She mentioned vows?”

“Celibacy. We vow celibacy. Our lives are short. Love complicates that. If we give it, then it is unfair on our intended as we will leave them soon enough.”

“But you left Intersia at an early age.”

“Candour insisted I follow their ways. He even had a priest come and induct me.”

“You never mentioned that before. You said you’d not found the right man.”

She grunted a laugh. “It all seemed so foolish. The vows, the…everything. The monster just wiped all away. Killed everything without a single vow.”

Josh moved closer. “Well, you don’t have to worry about any of that now. And no, you didn’t weaken my position. If anything, you strengthened it.” He came beside her. “We achieved what we set out to do.”

“Yes. There will be one person at that table who knows everything. We could return tonight. You have your perception skill.”

Josh chuckled. “It doesn’t extend to potholes and deep ruts. We’ll leave at first light.” He put his arm around her. “Besides, there’s a huge bed over there with fresh sheets on and pillows that look like they’re packed with goose down.”

She turned, her lips parted. “But I can’t…”

“I know. We’re together. We can hold each other.”

“You could kiss me.”

“I could,” he said, “and then we’ll go to bed.”

“There’s wine,” she said.

She walked across the room. “And there’s a bathroom. Mid-Lorans are pretty strict about personal hygiene. I’d be surprised if there weren’t a bath waiting behind this door.” She pulled it open. “Big enough for two.”

“I’ll get the wine.”

Josh poured, turning his back on her for a moment. When he spun around, she stood there naked.

“Have I told you that you have a beautiful body?”

“No.” She tilted her head. “No, no, you haven't. But you can, as often as you like.”

She walked into the bathroom.

“I’m not sure I’m going to be able to restrain myself.”

“But what about the leviathan?”

He set the wine down, stripping and pulling her close, pressing his erection against her.

“Is the leviathan causing any real bother? I mean, it’s gone dormant now. We could just leave it until the next virgin comes along.”

“No. No, we can’t. But,”—her lips brushed his ear— “If I’m going to learn to fight monsters, then I need to get used to dealing with them.” She folded her hands around his cock and knelt. “I’ll start with this one.”

She held his cock, her head inches away and began stroking it. “Like this?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“You take your time, baby. I’ll let you know if you hit the mark.”

She lifted his length, stroking the underside of his shaft with her index finger, letting it trail up and down and then trace a line along the ridge of his crown. Cupping his balls, she leaned closer but hesitated, unsure what to do next. Her breath flowed over him as her tongue tentatively reached out, its tip flicking his, the touch so brief he hardly felt it, but the sensation, the anticipation, nearly sent him over the edge. His cock twitched violently, and she lurched back.

“Did that hurt?”

“No, Lex, that hit the mark.” He guided her head back gently.

She reached up, her fingers folding around him, lips inching closer. Her tongue licked at him again. He twitched. She jerked back but stayed close, a smile spreading. “I think I’ve got it.” She flicked her tongue over his crown like a snake, angling her head as she accustomed to his ridges and folds.

“Oh yeah, you got it alright.”

He spread his legs, every muscle tense as he tried to keep himself steady. His knees desperately wanted to give way, to fold to the immense pleasure rippling through him. Lifting his arms, he held his hands over his head in utter capitulation as he was torn between closing his eyes and reveling in the ecstasy and staring down at her as she learned her cock craft.

She paused, moving her knees closer to him and resting back on her ankles. “That good?”

“Fantastic.”

She closed again, encircling him with her lips, taking half of him into her mouth, and working him with her tongue while one hand massaged his shaft and the other cupped his balls. She squeezed gently, and he groaned, spurring her on to squeeze harder. Josh flinched.

“Not so hard, baby.”

She snorted, his cock preventing her from replying, but adjusted, her hand sliding between his legs, finger stretched, probing his butthole.

He became lost in the multiple sensations, the overflowing ecstasy. Her lips traveled up and down his shaft, her speed increasing. Moans escaped him as pressure built in his balls.

“That’s it, baby. You got me.”

He tensed his ass, thrusting forward. She drew back a little, stifling a gagging noise. She reached around him, grabbing his ass cheeks with both hands as she forced him into her throat, then pulled him back out. Her fingernails bit into his skin as he succumbed, the pleasure too much.

“I’m going to cum, baby.”

His words encouraged her. She sped up, her hair whipping his legs, her breasts pressed against his knees. He welled, streams of cum gathering, waiting, ready to invade her. He lost control, relaxing his muscles and unleashing his torrent upon her, spilling into her mouth, pumping his ejaculation to the back of her throat.

Josh hadn’t realized he’d stopped breathing. He inhaled, his breath a gasp of ecstatic pleasure, and then his orgasm’s afterburn kicked in, and he reluctantly withdrew.

“That, baby, was awesome.”

“Did I get it right?”

“Better than right. Are you sure you haven't done that before?”

She grinned. “The girls said you liked it. They kind of told me what to do.”

He thought back to her probing finger. “Cassandra, by any chance?”

“Oh yeah, she taught me that special trick to send you over the edge.”

“Oh, she did, did she?”

Chapter Fourteen

IT WAS the first time the newly expanded Misfits had all been together, yet Arabella's carriage coped. Thadius and Harrogate sat on the sofa. Their advisory work was over. They'd play no part in the leviathan takedown. Elowen and Vella sat on the edge of the bed. Both had support roles. Vella would be on hand to offer any heals as needed, while Elowen would observe the attack from the compound's roof. She would also use Dinsy and Blitz to message any combatant if the plan required changing. Josh sat at the table with Arabella, Cassandra, Lex and Melody.

"Cassandra?" Josh asked.

"All my wizards know their place. Rezzid and Falco are on the southern bank. Both mastered their attacks. Rezzid's fire beam is pretty damn scary, and Falco can maintain his water jet over a considerable distance. I'll be on the northern bank with Erastmus. His concentration wanes, and his mana reserves aren't as expansive as the other two. Prost will keep them topped up, while Vella can keep Erastmus going from her position on the compound's roof."

"The aeromancer?"

“That didn’t work so well. Daniel’s jets were awesome close-up but useless when his target was a few inches away. We can use the method for intricate work, perhaps carving runes and the like, but against the leviathan, no—no good,” Cassandra said.

“We talked about it. He’s no use in attack but can help guide the boats. If we have him on the opposite bank to Cassandra, then if it veers off course, he’ll push it back from one side, or Cassandra can counter on the other,” Elowen said.

“Sounds good,” Josh said.

“We had to adapt while you were away. Everything clicked into place, so we had a test run.”

Josh paused. “We’re ready?”

“We are. The boats are all set for loading. Arabella is ready—her archery is almost dead on. She hits nine out of ten times, even with a moving target. There’s nothing to stop us from taking this thing out,” Elowen said.

“And all the Lords and Ladies will be here tomorrow,” Cassandra added. “Candour even asked me to dress as befitting a sorceress of my standing, whatever that means.”

Josh considered it. “So, you’re going the other way then?”

“Naturally. I’ve buffed my thigh-highs right up. They’re going to shine in his eyes.”

“He still doesn’t get us, does he?” Josh mused.

“Candour believes he can manipulate everyone. Once he knows your secret is common knowledge, he’ll try and get something else over you,” Lex said.

“Let him. I have nothing to hide anymore. If he causes me too much trouble, we side against him and continue.”

“He’ll make for a powerful enemy. Never discount a political meddler. They’ll find allies where you wouldn’t dare look. Before you know it, he’ll be allied to Artusia or Intersia, or even worse, in league with Nareena.”

“What’s she like?” Josh asked.

Lex sucked her cheeks in. “Nareena? Never met her. She’s human. I know that much, but she thinks she descends from snakes and has their blood running through her veins. By all accounts, she’s an odd one. Like Lady Franks, Nareena runs her own harem, but most of her men are eunuchs. They shave every hair from their bodies and modify their eyes into slits. If you want to get a piece of freaky, she’s the place to go.”

“But she runs a good kingdom?”

“Not all men want to be domineered and act like reptiles. It makes them readily comply.”

“Nareena bad,” Vella said. “Steals elves for their eyes. Locks them up and uses them.”

“For real?” Josh asked.

Vella shrugged. “What I heard. No one knows. Elves vanish. No one hears from them again.”

“Shit.”

“Few travel to Sillia. Most trade is at border posts. It’s hot and humid. A hell of a lot of it is swampland,” Elowen said. “It’s a place to lose an army.”

“Place to die,” Vella said.

“She sounds like an absolute mad woman. Perhaps we take her vote and then forget about her.”

“Unfortunately,” Lex said. “If you want to unite Mythelore with the elves, you need Nareena on your side. Sillia’s borders run half the length of Alianthia. There has to be peace there.”

“Well, let’s hope she’s not too cold-blooded,” Josh said. He slumped. “I hate politics. Getting back to the takedown. Do we all know our timings?”

“Dip the virgin,” Cassandra said with a sigh. “Wait for the creature to rear its head. Open the overflow channels, close the sluices to restrict the flow.”

“Take out the tentacles,” Arabella continued, “then launch the bomb boats.”

“Fire and fury,” Melody said. “Flesh splatter, monster gone.”

“We go home,” Vella said.

“Home,” Arabella added.

“Can’t wait,” Cassandra added.

“I’m going to set up my lab,” Melody said.

“And I shall catalog everything that’s gone on.” Elowen pushed her glasses up to the bridge of her nose.

“I shall see my new wife,” said Thadius. “We shall spend our evenings on the terrace overlooking the river.”

“I’m going to build a camp in the attic.” Dinsy fluttered her pink and blue wings.

“I help,” said Blitz.

“And I shall start my harem,” said Harrogate.

They all stared at the old man.

“Really, Dad?”

Harrogate opened the side sluices. It was a simple task. The donkeys pulled, their teamster encouraging them until they reached a red marker, and it should have merited no applause. But that applause came from the hills around, from the embankments where crowds had gathered despite warnings, from the ruins, the new dwellings, and from the old wizard’s compound where Lords and Ladies gathered.

Josh waited. He stood upon a new jetty jutting into the river a few hundred yards downstream of the marshlands. He rubbed his hands together and shifted from foot to foot.

“Are you nervous?” Melody asked.

“Me? No?” he replied nervously. “Just another monster takedown. Nothing to be nervous about.” He nodded toward the southern bank. “It’s not like there’s half an army up there.” And then he indicated the northern one. “Or the other half there.” His gaze flitted to the compound. “And then there’s that lot. Each of them judging us.”

“So, you are nervous,” Melody said, her smirk indicating she was enjoying herself.

“What if the monster doesn’t show? What if it suddenly sprouts legs and gobbles us all up? Look fucking stupid then, won’t we?”

“Think I’d be more worried about being gobbled up than what a few Lords and Ladies thought,” Lex said.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t—” He was about to tell them about the time when, as a young kid, he’d had to sing a solo at a pantomime. It stained his memory, the bright lights, the warm feeling in his groin as he’d wet himself and the silence as he’d forgotten his lines. Fortunately, he stopped himself. There was every chance if he hadn’t, then Melody would have persecuted him for the rest of his life. “Which might not be so long,” he said.

“What?” Arabella asked.

“Nothing,” he said, shifting from foot to foot as the applause died down.

“Get on with it!” Someone shouted.

“Tell Harrogate to divert two-thirds of the river, please, Dinsy.”

Dinsy positively glowed. Being stuck in Thadius’ cart hadn’t done her any favors. Fairies were outdoorsy types who needed to be flying free. Inside, they wilted like moths trapped too long in someone’s hands. Their wings lost their fairy dust—the glitter that trailed behind them as they flew.

“On it, boss,” Dinsy said and flew away.

“You’re going to have trouble getting her to go to Elowen once we set off. You know she’s got a crush on you,” Arabella said.

“She’ll do as she’s told,” Josh said. “She knows we’re all just cogs in the Misfit machine.”

“She might, but I doubt it.”

“They still unnerve me,” said Lex.

“I know,” Melody said. “Those tiny tits and little pussies flying around, naked as the day.”

Lex stared at Melody. “I was thinking more along the lines of sitting on one by mistake and crushing one, but you be you, no sweat.”

“You get used to them,” said Arabella. “After you’ve been around them a while, you treat them like cats. You know they might be somewhere, so you always look out for them, and if you happen to kick one, expect a heart attack as it squeals and claws at you.”

Josh snorted. “Really? You’ve kicked a fairy?”

“No,” said Arabella, blushing.

“She’s kicked one,” Melody confirmed. “I always know when Bells is lying. She blushes and dribbles a little.”

“I do not,” said Arabella, wiping the corner of her mouth.

The giant wooden gates slid into the river, cutting its flow. The water levels in the two channels rose while the river receded some more, revealing more glistening mud banks. Gulls swooped, picking off stranded fish. Some returned to the partly finished bridge, perched among workers taking a break to watch the show.

“That should do it. According to Elowen, we hit slack water soon,” Josh said.

“Slack what?” Lex asked.

“The bit when the tide’s at its lowest.”

“Then why didn’t you say that?” Arabella asked.

“Because he’s so smart,” said Dinsy as she returned.

“There it is,” shouted Arabella, breathless.

Sure enough, the leviathan’s body stood proud of the receding water. A chorus of boos rang out from the crowd.

The monster’s vast, black body filled the main drainage channel, stretching almost to the sea. Its skin glistened, shimmering under the noon sun. From the river, it looked gigantic—much bigger than it had from the safety of the bank.

“Look at the length of those tentacles,” Josh said. Time had eroded his memory of the beast; that day filled with murk and rain where this one was bright and clear. “I don’t remember them being that long.”

“Will they be able to sweep the crowds off the embankment?” Arabella asked.

“Look!” Melody said. “Some are already moving this way. Some are crossing the bridges.”

“We told them not to stand there,” Josh said.

A tentacle shot straight up before curling down and feeling the mudbanks all around it. It caused more panic on the embankments, with people scurrying away—shouts and screams ringing out.

“Elowen wants to know if you’re ready to start,” Blitz said, landing next to Dinsy.

“Tell her we wait until the crowds settle,” Josh said.

“Most have cleared now.” Melody pointed. “We can’t risk it backing out to sea because it thinks the river has dried up.”

“Good point. Tell her it’s a go,” Josh said.

“Time to dunk the virgin,” Melody added. “Not me. Not anymore.” She beamed.

“Ha!” said Lex. “I resisted for the cause.” She brushed Josh’s cheek, bringing his lips close to hers. “But not later, eh?”

“No,” he said. “Not later.” He grinned, wanting to get on with it. “Unfasten the raft,” he said. Arabella, Melody, Lex and Josh fell silent as it dawned on them the time had come.

Josh punted out to the bomb boats. They had moored them to the new bridge’s central upright. Melody jumped from the raft to the lead boat and untethered it, letting it float free until the chain joining it to the second boat stretched taut. She leaped back on the raft and then across to the second boat, releasing that.

“Good luck all of you. Bells—you’ve got this!” Melody jumped onto the pillar.

As that boat sprang free of its mooring, a second chain tightened, and once the slack had been taken up, both boats floated in the center of the channel. “Ready for final release!” Melody shouted from the pillar’s top.

Josh moved his raft into position. Like the boats, a chain tethered it to the post. He maneuvered it behind the two bomb boats and waited. “You’re up, Lex.”

Lex took a breath, then moved to the front of the raft. She uncinched her dress, letting it fall to the floor. The crowds roared, applause echoing across the river.

“I hope that’s because she’s got a fine body and not because they’re hoping the beast gobbles her up,” Josh said.

“She is magnificent. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more athletic body, and her skin has a natural sheen to it.” Arabella tugged his sleeve. “I don’t know how you stopped yourself from screwing her senseless.”

“I’m lucky I have other beautiful distractions.”

“I can hear you,” said Lex.

Josh knelt, checking Lex’s tether. “That’s not too tight, is it?”

“Nope, about right.”

“If I were three feet taller, I’d screw her,” Dinsy said.

“Tell Harrogate to throttle the river by half,” Josh told her. “Lex, you’re in.”

Josh waved a green flag, and Cassandra punched a blast of red magic into the air.

Lex jumped into the river.

Chapter Fifteen

THE RIVER LEVEL DROPPED, revealing more tentacles. Two ranged around, stabbing at the ever-growing mudbanks. Josh squeezed his eyes, straining to detect any movement from the leviathan’s main body. Lex trod water close to the boat. Then, the monster lurched, a wave streaking toward them as its tentacles rose and plunged into the water.

“Brace yourselves,” Josh shouted.

“It’s gone back a bit,” Arabella said, clinging to the rope holds.

The bomb boats rocked, and the raft lurched over the wave.

“More like that, and one of them will be over,” Josh growled.

“I’ll swim a bit further forward,” Lex shouted. “Undo my tether some.”

Arabella unfastened it.

“I don’t like this. If the tales are true, just her presence in the water should send it mad,” Josh said. “It should be hunting her out, not backing away.”

“You don’t think the blow job screwed it up, do you?” Arabella asked.

“Blow jobs don’t count,” Josh said. “Everyone knows that.”

“Did you cum in her—?”

“Yeah, of course, but that shouldn’t matter.” Josh said the words, but he wasn’t convinced.

“It’s moving!” Melody screamed from the post; a pair of binoculars rammed against her eyes.

Three tentacles lurched forward, then a fourth. The beast seemed to grow in size as if puffing itself up, then its maw opened, and a terrible sound throbbed through the remnants of Califire.

“It’s got her scent!” Josh shouted.

A streak of red light shot from the southern embankment, tearing through one tentacle like a hot knife through butter. Two water jets erupted, one from each bank, each damaging the other tentacles but nowhere near as effective as Rezzid’s red-hot beam. Cassandra’s laser-like beam then burst from the northern bank, not quite as focused as Rezzid’s but quickly becoming so and tearing through one, then two tentacles. The monster shrieked again, the unholy sound reverberating through Josh’s body.

“Go! Go! Go!” Josh screamed. Melody released the clasp holding the bomb boats in place, waited, and unfastened the raft.

Dinsy swooped. “What next?”

“Tell Harrogate to go to three-quarters!” Josh shouted as the Leviathan screamed again.

More waves buffeted the bomb boats. They rolled and yawed, the river suddenly tempestuous as the leviathan’s maw opened and closed. Lex went under, the river’s current eddying. She clawed the air, rising and spitting out water. A tentacle streaked towards her, but a bright red beam shot forward, intercepting it and slicing straight through it. It crashed into the water, sending waves three feet high racing toward them.

“Get out of there, Lex!” Josh screamed, doused by curtains of water as the boat pitched high and then slammed down.

“I’m trying,” she said, waves washing over her.

“They’re going to go over!” Arabella cried, pointing at the bomb boats.

The leviathan opened its terrible maw again, and Josh looked hopelessly at it. “Oh my fucking God,” he said as the beast’s size became suddenly apparent. “Lex! Get back here now!”

The river surged toward the beast’s gaping mouth, sucked deep into it. The bomb boats lurched. Lex screamed, her tether tightening as the current pulled her farther away. Their raft sped forward. Josh grappled with Lex’s tether, trying desperately to pull her back in. They raced toward the beast. Another tentacle crashed into the river, sending a plume of water over them. Another sped toward them, severed by Rezzid.

“Get ready to take your shot, Bells,” Josh screamed, grabbing Lex but barely clinging on.

“It wasn’t like this!” Arabella cried back at him, barely able to stand. “We’re too close! I can’t even stand up!”

“They’ll see that. Trust Cassandra and Elowen. Get ready to take the shot!”

Arabella pulled a dum dum arrow, trying to nock it but needing her hand to steady herself. “I can’t do it!”

Josh finally pulled Lex onto the raft. “We need to make that shot!” he cried as a wind suddenly buffeted them, pushing the raft back and steadying it.

Josh crawled to Arabella, grabbing her knees. “Lex, give me a hand steadying her.”

The wind hit them from two angles. “Daniel and Cassandra!” Lex cried, grabbing Josh and wrapping her legs around him. She grabbed Arabella’s waist. “I got you, Bells. Make that shot!”

The leviathan’s maw loomed over them, blocking out everything else.

“Dinsy!” Josh screamed.

“Here!” she cried.

“Tell Harrogate to turn the river off!”

“On it!”

“Go Bells. Go. Make the shot.”

Arabella raised her bow as the raft steadied.

“Hold on,” Lex said. “Hold on.”

“Spot it for me, Lex,” Arabella said, her nerves bleeding through as she closed one eye.

Josh watched, the scene strangely peaceful, like they’d entered the eye of a storm. The bomb boats drifted into the beast’s mouth. A stub of a tentacle spewed white liquid as it tried to reach forward. Another lunged for the southern embankment, but Rezzid severed it straight away. His red beam carved a rent in the leviathan’s side for good measure. The monster screamed again, momentarily buffeting the bomb boats back. The raft bucked, but Arabella quickly composed as the river dropped again.

“Now,” Lex said.

Arabella shot her arrow.

“Five yards over.”

The boats entered the leviathan’s maw.

She nocked another, shooting straight away.

“Five short,” Lex said.

Arabella dropped her bow, exhaling then inhaling.

“You got this,” Josh said.

“I know.”

She nocked and lifted her bow, loosing one and then two arrows in quick succession.

“Hit!” Lex said.

Josh tried to move.

“Wait,” said Arabella, and she shot two more. “Now! Let’s go!”

The river dried up, the raft sticking to the mud, sending them tumbling forward. Josh grabbed them both, throwing them backward. They scrambled off. He picked the raft up and dragged it over them, holding it in place, his heart stopping when nothing happened.

“Scale armor,” he cried.

They had just enough time to swap concerned glances before an explosion rang out, shaking the riverbank, deafening them, its force picking up the raft and tossing it upriver like matchwood. Then, a pinch of silence settled before a second explosion ripped through them. Josh grabbed them both, turning his back to the beast.

This one, though, was more muted than the first, as if contained somehow. Blood, flesh, and guts strafed them. They waited.

“All okay?” Josh said, rising, pulling them with him.

At first, they looked upstream, Harrogate’s huge panels still holding, a small stream washing around them. Then, as one, they slowly turned, the sound of the cheering crowd barely registering over their ringing ears.

It was hard to make out exactly what they were seeing. A gray cloud eddied above the beast, but beast didn’t appear to be an accurate description of the monster. It’s central hump had vanished, replaced by charred blubber. It had no head nor maw, and its tentacles lay around it. Great bones stuck out, muscle and sinew clinging to them like ghostly sails.

“We did it?” Josh’s words were more a question than anything. The contrast between the raging beast and the lumps of charred muscle and fat was too much.

“We did it,” said Lex. “We only went and did it.”

A warm feeling filled Josh. Arabella rippled, and Lex shivered.

“Gotta love Vella,” Arabella said. “She always thinks heal first.”

“We need to get you some clothes.” Josh pulled Lex close. “Not sure we planned for after.”

“Hard to plan when you have no clue if you’ll get eaten or not. I think we all need a bath.”

“You need to all get moving,” Dinsy said. “Harrogate thinks the gates might start giving way if he doesn’t open them soon. They’re creaking something awful.”

“I don’t need asking twice,” Arabella said.

“Where the hell did all those seagulls come from?” Josh asked, watching the cloud above the dead monster swooping on its carcass.

“That lot is going to stink something awful,” Lex said.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here,” Josh said. “I’ve had enough for one day.”

“What about all the Lords and Ladies.”

“Fuck them. They can wait until this evening. Me and Lex have unfinished business.”

“Can I join in?” Arabella asked.

“Lex?”

“If I remember rightly, there’s plenty of him to go around.”

“Party time in the lead carriage it is, then,” Josh said, and they strode toward the embankment.

“Perhaps take your scale armor off?”

“Are you sure? I can ignore everyone when I have this helmet on.”

Arabella punched him.

“You’re a hero, Josh Underwood. Act like one.”

“We’re all heroes—we’re Misfits.”

He removed his armor.

“And we’re proud of it!”

He raised their hands, and the cheers rang out.

"That was quite intense," Lex said, taking a breath and pausing inside the carriage. "I kept thinking I could feel the tentacles around my feet." She ran her fingers through her hair and marched to the bath. "I've seen a lot of things, but I'm not sure I want to get that close to a monster's mouth again. That stench will haunt me."

She stepped into the bath while Arabella and Josh removed their sodden clothes. Josh stepped in with her, offering his hand to Arabella. "It's our thing," he said, "we fight monsters. Most of the time, we don't get so close, but you gotta be ready to get in their faces."

"Can we pick one with a slightly smaller face next time?" Lex rested back between Josh's legs, her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah, smaller is better." Arabella squeezed between Lex's legs, lathering some soap and washing Lex's neck, shoulders and breasts. "Do you train all the time?"

"I run and work out daily. It's good discipline."

Arabella lifted one of Lex's legs, soaping it up and down before turning her attention to the other. "Your skin is so shiny, too. You'll have to tell me your secret."

"It's an Intersian thing," Lex said. "It's a strange land, so hot in summer, yet it ices over in winter. Artesian is similar, but the effect of the Truskan Mountains is less there."

"Stand up. I'll do the rest of you. Then you can do me."

"What about me?" Josh asked.

"You get both of us," Arabella said.

Lex stood, the bath water running off her, and Arabella began scrubbing her all over before Lex returned the compliment. Josh lay back, enjoying the view while rolling his back to ease the last tension from it. "Have I said how much I love you two?"

They faced him, Arabella embracing Lex. "He's only saying that because we're naked, wet and covered in soap."

Lex pointed at the bath, Josh's cock standing proud. "No, I think he genuinely means it." She pulled him up, moving him between them and pressing her slippery body against him.

"No, I definitely love you all for more than that," he said as both girls began soaping him from head to toe.

"I think we're done here, Lex," Arabella said. "Are you ready?"

Lex looked down. "Are we sure that's gonna fit?"

Arabella laughed. "You get to try after its second evolution. I eased myself in. Melody managed it in its new engorged state."

"Hard and fast, too," Josh said.

"I'm more a slow and sensual type of gal," Lex said.

Josh dunked himself, stepping out of the bath and stretching. “That was a buzz,” he said, unable to get the monster out of his head despite the beautiful distractions surrounding him. “I think the wizards need some credit—most of the credit. The channels and beaching it was their idea.”

Arabella and Lex rinsed off, both stepping out at the same time. Lex folded her arms around his neck, pressing her wet body against him as she kissed him passionately. “Forget the monster,” she said, breaking away and lying on the bed.

She spread her legs, drawing her knees up and lifting her arms above her head. Her breasts stood proud of her chest, retaining their perfect shape. Her abs undulated, slabs interlocking, a flat muscle shelf above her jeweled pubic hair that glistened with wet diamonds. As black as obsidian, her hairs lined her flesh slit, its pink stark in contrast.

Josh faced her, his cock primed and eager, head engorged and shining. He moved forward, kneeling on the bed. “Are you ready, babe?”

“Yes.” He lowered himself, his cock touching her lips. She spread them, craning her neck.

“Push,” she said, then bit her lip and grimaced.

Josh pulled back instead, spitting on his palm and moistening his knob. “That’s it, babe, pull those lips apart.”

She teased her pussy open, her flesh shining. He pushed, this time with more confidence, and met brief resistance as he plowed through her virginity.

“Stop,” she said, inhaling sharply. Closing her eyes, she took several breaths. “Okay, all the way. Fill me up.”

“Sure?”

“No!” she snapped, then braced.

He pressed, his shaft bending at first, then sinking in as it sprang straight. Their pubic bones met as he ground against her, his cock compressed by her muscular body. He eased back, plowing back in once halfway out, his motion short and jerking, opening her fully to him as her muscles dilated and accepted his magnificent length.

“Slow and sensual,” he said, getting into a rhythm as Arabella crawled onto the bed and sat behind Lex.

“You’re doing well,” she whispered, then lifted Lex’s head and rested it on her lap. “You get used to it pretty quickly.”

“I got it,” Lex said. “Mind if a girl changes her mind?”

“Fast and furious?” Josh asked.

“Hard and fast. Break me in—break me,” she said as her eyes narrowed and her lips curled in a semi-snarl. “Fuck me hard, Josh.” Her muscles tensed as she readied to receive his worst.

“Sure?”

Her glare told him everything he needed to know. He pulled out, leaving only his tip in, then slammed his cock all the way in, his end butting against her cervix, causing her to gasp in surprise. He pulled straight out, plunging in again and again, as she ground her teeth and tore at the sheets. Sweat dripped from her creased forehead, her pecs rippling under her breasts, nipples standing on end.

Josh focused, keeping himself in position as her flesh tore at his. He felt his orgasm nearing, her muscular body bringing him close, the tightness of her pussy ripping his nerves to shreds as they powered back euphoria. But he fought to control himself, refusing her the win.

Her grimace turned to a grin as she locked eyes on him. Her challenge spurred him on, but the pace of his strokes threatened to strip him of his control as his need to cum overtook his need to win. Then, she cried out in anguish as something inside her broke.

“Holy fuck!” she screamed, jerking under him, signaling that she’d succumbed.

It was all he needed to let go, his cum spraying into her as a howl split his lips.

The carriage door opened, and Cassandra, Elowen, Vella and Melody piled in.

“What the hell are you doing? There’s a party to get to!” Elowen said.

“Looks like they’ve just finished!” Melody said. “It’s all about timing.”

“Come on you,” Cassandra easing him off. “There’ll be plenty of time for that.”

Josh staggered away, cum still dripping from his cock. “Fuck that was intense.”

Lex gasped. “Man, I think you’ve ruined me.”

Josh’s gaze lingered on Lex. “Are you okay?”

“Like I’ve been in a saddle for a week.”

“Ready to party?” he asked, gulping a breath.

She slid off the bed, folding her arms around him. “I like a good party.”

“I’m going to be leaking cum the entire time.”

“You and me both,” she said, kissing him.

He grinned. “You and me both.”

Chapter Sixteen

JOSH TRIED TO AVOID NAREENA. She was unique amongst quite a varied crowd. Her bronzed skin complimented her straight black hair, which hung to her shoulders, her fringe a line above her mysterious eyes. Her dress barely covered her body, its woven emerald sequins revealing more than they covered as it hugged her body like a second skin. Six shaven-headed eunuchs, dressed in garish orange, flowed around her, serving her every need. Josh tried to avoid her, but he was inextricably drawn to her, like a fish to a bright, shiny lure.

“There’s something about her,” he said to Lex.

“She’s off-limits to you. She demands total adoration from her husbands, and you have your harem. The two can’t mix.” Lex sniffed the air. “Besides, you so much look at another woman, and I’m perfectly entitled to kill them.”

“No, you’re not. If I want to add another woman to my harem, I can.” He had no intention of doing so but didn’t want Lex to think she could boss him about.

“Why would you want to add a corpse to your harem? Why, Josh, why?” She smirked.

“How about, I am perfectly happy where I am? Is that a better answer?”

“It is,” she said and smiled. “So, that said, do you want to bed her?”

“I meant what I said. There’s something about her, and I don’t mean sexually. She’s not my type but has a certain draw.”

Lex leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. “She’s sexy as fuck, and any man would want to bone her.” She drew away and shrugged. “I can see that.”

“Then why—?” He gave up. “Never mind. What’s her story?”

“They say she’s a witch, or that’s what I believed before I met Cassandra. She has an affinity with nature. It’s how she keeps the swamp beasts under control. I’ll bet she can enthrall humans as well. I’d be wary of her.”

“Enthrall? You mean hypnotize? I’ll be okay. There’s no way the ring will allow anyone else to be in control of my head.”

“Then you should be fine. I, on the other hand, might get turned, but I doubt it. There’s something missing, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.” She grabbed his dick. “Oh, there it is. That’s it. She hasn’t got a cock.”

Josh grinned. He’d never known Lex so relaxed. It was like their recent brush with death had released her from someplace that had held her character at bay.

“Well, you’re in a good mood, seeing as we had to finish up quickly.”

“That is what has put me in a good mood. I have something to look forward to. If you think I’m settling for one quickie, then you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Or simply another cumming.”

“Sharp,” she said. “Did you get any—points for the leviathan? Is it points you call them?”

“Three points in combat instinct. I’m guessing it wasn’t the perfect plan, but it was a huge beast.”

“So where does that put you?”

Josh checked his stats:

Strength = 39

Speed and Agility = 30

Durability = 34

Combat instinct = 25

Arcane resistance = 35

Poison resistance = 30

Average = 32.16

“Thirty-two. Still a long way off. I could have done with a good mauling.”

“Why three points?” she asked. “Do you think it might be because you, me and Arabella were all in danger?”

“You mean a party thing?”

“Just that. We were in your party. Say the ring feels the mission could have gone better; therefore, it’s enhanced your combat instinct to try and protect the party. Would that make sense?”

“Which means,” Josh said, “that if one of you gets in trouble and I need strength or speed to get you out of it, then in theory, it might give us an extra boost.” He considered it momentarily. “I wonder if we can exploit that.”

“Well, well, well,” said Lady Franks. “There you are. I’ve been searching for you. I have to say, that was an impressive display. I told my good friend Candour, you must be a delight to be around. All your wives seem so happy, every single one of them pulling in the right direction. What do you think?” She turned to Candour, beckoning him closer.

“I believe we witnessed something extraordinary. For the first time, our land has a protector who can defend it from the biggest threat, and none comes bigger than a leviathan."

"Then we must do all we can to secure his services. It’s a shame we have no king to snap him up.”

Candour’s eyes showed a hint of amusement. "He has shown extraordinary leadership qualities. When the leviathan attacked, he not only dispatched one of his team to help the wounded, he assisted in the recovery and rebuilding of Califire. When he found out the monster had killed our most powerful wizards, he took it upon himself to instruct the harmonic to bring their survivors under her wing. You witnessed the results of that today. I have not seen wizards display such power in a long while, especially those so young."

Lady Franks grasped Josh’s hands, looking into his eyes. "So, tell me, how do you see things progressing?"

"Progressing? I see things getting worse. Harrogate—"

"Isn't Harrogate a little eccentric?" Candour asked.

"Wasn't he the one who, several years ago, petitioned the King to take monsters more seriously?” Josh asked. “The same King, I might add, who ignored him and ended up inside one?"

Candour grinned like a man presented with his favorite dish. "He is, but surely the matter of succession is what we should discuss here? We could all thrive with a strong, brave King responsible for controlling the monster threat."

"Selecting the King is a matter for the surviving Lords and Ladies, Candour. Wouldn't you agree?" Lady Franks frowned.

"These are unprecedented times, Lady Franks," Candour said.

"In what way? What is so uncertain that we throw our constitution away?”

Candour opened his hands. "Monsters abound. Cultists rise. No one knows this kingdom better than me, and I know Josh is the right man to lead us. I would love to secure your vote, Lady Franks. Would you not feel safer in Mid Loren with Josh looking out for you."

Josh took a breath. "Firstly, you're speaking about me like I'm not here. Secondly, you haven't even asked if I want to be King. Thirdly, you cannot deny Harrogate with one breath and invoke the monster threat with your next. That makes no sense. You must convene your meeting, Lady Franks, and invite Candour and me to speak. Then you must elect a new King or Queen."

"But that is not the protocol, and I'm a stickler for that. No one but Lords and Ladies should be present."

"Is it protocol for a monster to swallow the King?" Josh asked.

Lady Franks inclined her head. "A good point."

"And," Josh continued. "There is the matter of the Harmonic. Suppose I'm going to be involved in anything here. In that case, I will demand recognition for Cassandra, not as an exceptional witch, as Mythelore's most powerful sorceress, with the status that gives."

"She will have to dress as befitting—" Candour said, but Josh cut him off.

"What? Don't you like what you see? Was her display today not enough? She has more power in her little finger than all of you combined."

"Would you like me to turn him into a turd?" Cassandra said, wafting in.

"Toad," said Thadius, rolling his eyes. "It's a toad. How many times do I have to tell you?"

“My mistake,” said Cassandra.

Josh pulled her close. "Cassandra, Thadius, meet Lady Franks."

"Cassandra, a pleasure. Did we witness your influence on those wizards? It was a mighty fine display of coordinated magic. Thadius, we meet again. A pleasure as always." She held out her hand, and Thadius took it, kissing it as he bowed.

"You two know each other?" Josh said.

Thadius smirked. "I didn't solely kill monsters for Seymour, you know. I have had a fascinating conversation with Tiffany today regarding a pair of visitors she received the other night."

“Tiffany?”

“Lady Franks.”

"In that case, I imagine you would," Josh said, kicking himself for not consulting with Thadius. "We need to speak."

"We do."

Thadius steered him away to a balcony. “Tell me, why did you go blundering in when I could sort these political maneuverings for you? I know all of these people. I know their weak points and their strong points."

"The wheels were in motion before you came. I should have checked back, but Lex and I decided to see her on the spur of the moment. I told her everything, Thadius. No more secrets."

"You are happy with this choice?"

"I'm not sure why I wanted to keep it to myself. What does it matter that I'm not Mythelorian? I'm overpowered, so I'm not normal, and I don't expect people to treat me as such."

"That will make things easier." Thadius smacked his lips together. "What do you want from this, Josh?"

"I want what I've always wanted. I want to fight the scourge of monsters with your daughter, my wives, and you and Harrogate. I do not want to be a puppet King because I happen to solve a few little problems."

"Then we must aim for those goals, but beware, it is not unusual for the weak to rally around the strong, and at the moment, you have the Misfits, you have six wizards, you have the army, and you have yourself. If you vanish, you only leave them with what they had before, and it is in their nature to want more."

Arabella came out, grabbing Josh. "Come, I want you to meet someone," she said, her cheeks flushed and eyes glazed.

Thadius cleared his throat. "Let me deal with it, Josh. You enjoy yourself."

"What did he want?" Arabella asked, dragging him through the crowd.

"To sort everything out for me," Josh said.

“He used to be good at that before Calico turned the King’s head.”

“Who are you taking me to see?”

Before Arabella could answer, the eunuchs parted, and Josh came face to face with Nareena.

"Josh, meet Nareena,” Arabella announced. “She's fun."

Josh stooped just shy of bumping straight into her.

“Lady Nareena,” he stammered.

"Josh, how pleasant to meet you. That was an impressive display today."

Nareena elongated every S to a hiss, drawing it out to the delight of her eunuchs. She smiled as she spoke, fluttering her eyelids, her head gyrating slightly.

"We try, but it's all down to the planning." He spoke, but it was like another voice inside his head. His entire focus fell onto her eyes. Where he expected her white pupils to be, golden orbs held black pupils that widened and narrowed as she appraised him.

"It looked like pure power won the day. I would be interested in acquiring an amount of the item you used for blowing the beast up. But this is not the time to negotiate. Perhaps later. My tent is always open to one such as you."

"That's very kind of you, but I'm afraid the powder isn't for sale now. We may consider it in the future, but we are currently stockpiling everything we produce for future monster battles."

"What if I'm fighting my own monsters?" she asked, her gaze switching across the room to Vella. "What then?"

Josh gritted his teeth. "Monsters disguise themselves well, Nareena. Sometimes, they look almost human.” He paused, then looked her straight in the eye. “It's been a pleasure meeting you." He backed away, taking Arabella with him. "I don't think she will be our friend," he said.

"She was so different with me!" Arabella said. “She was all smiles and kisses.”

"Mr. Underwood, might I have a word?" an unfamiliar voice said.

Josh spun around to face a tall, dark-skinned man with a lengthy beard. The man smiled. "My name is Lord Farza of the Intersia. I understand you have taken Lexiurian into your harem. Might I celebrate this union with you? It brings you into our family, and a most welcome addition you are.”

“Well, err, thank you?”

“It comes at an auspicious time. Artusians have crossed our borders on more than one occasion. They focus on our destruction. Perhaps with you as an ally, they might think twice."

"That is entirely correct, Lord Farza. With me on your side, they'd be foolish to invade, and with me also on the Artusian side, so would you."

"On the Artusian side?"

"Forgive me," Josh said. "I forget myself."

He grinned. "We are almost family."

"Lex is Intersian, but didn't she get sold to Justice Candour at an early age? Wasn't she abandoned by Intersia and forgotten about? Perhaps I'll speak to her about where my allegiances lie."

Farza froze, his expression turning to thunder.

"Perhaps I should take this from here," Thadius said. "Arabella, how about grabbing Josh some food?"

Josh took a moment to calm down. "That sounds wonderful." He pulled Thadius close. "Thanks for taking care of this, and let me know how I can repay you."

"I'll think about it, but my list will be expansive."

"And paid in full," Josh said. “Lord Farza, I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

He pulled Arabella away, slicing through the crowd to get to Cassandra, Lex and Vella.

“I’m really not cut out for politics. Anyone got any pointers?” he asked.

“Just nod a lot, darling,” Cassandra said. “Nod, move your hands and say, ‘That’s top of my agenda,’ at the appropriate time.”

“And never answer a question,” Elowen said, joining them. “If they ask you if you want to be King, say something like, ‘Do the elves have a King?’ That way, you’ve not actually answered the question, and you’ve changed the subject.”

“Or,” said Arabella, “if they ask you for an opinion on anything, say, ‘I’m the same as the next man. I want what’s best for Mythelore.’ See?”

“So, I never actually answer a question?”

“Never,” they all said.

“And I never express an opinion?”

“Not a single one,” said Lex.

“And if they back me into a corner and I have no choice but to answer the question, I change the subject?”

“Exactly,” said Elowen.

“You can’t upset a single person if you try that,” Lex said.

He pursed his lips. “I might have to try that.”

“Only if you get trapped. Stick with us, and you’ll be okay.” Arabella grinned, grabbing another drink from a passing waitress.

“Where’s Harrogate, Melody and the fairies?” Josh asked.

“In my carriage,” said Elowen. “They feel the calculations on the bang powder went slightly wrong. Plus, they have a fully functioning cannon to play with.”

“How did we get one of them?”

Cassandra rested her hand on his arm. “I found a good-sized bronze statue in the wizard’s treasury. There was enough metal for a cannon and six balls. They’re designing a gun carriage for it.”

“It’ll work?” Josh asked.

Cassandra shrugged. “Not a clue. But I did the rifling thing and bored the fuse hole and vent.”

“Ah, Josh, might I have a word,” Thadius said, steering him away.

“I wish people would stop shifting me around.”

“My apologies. I’m simply trying to get things back on the right track. Now, do you or do you not want to be king?”

“Do the elves have a king?” he asked, winking at Arabella.

“What?” Thadius asked. “Does it matter?”

“Does anything matter, Thadius?”

“Have you been drinking?”

“How’s Simmalion?” He winked at Arabella again.

“You’re not supposed to do it to Dad,” she said.

“Why not?”

Thadius grinned. “Oh, I’ve got it now. Yes, good to practice. But I do need my first question answered. Do you or do you not want to be king? Because there’s a real possibility that they all want you to accept the role.”

“Not really.”

Thadius took a breath. “Think about it. You could unite the lands. You could make peace with the elves and focus all of Mythelore on defeating the monsters.”

Josh pressed his lips into a thin line. “But the lodge, the terrace, the nights by the river…”

“If you were King, Josh, you could have lodges in every city, town, and village. We could rid this land of monsters forever. We could get everyone working on the same side.”

“Well, if you put it like that…”

Chapter Seventeen

JOSH SAT at the head of the table, the Lords and Ladies of Mythelore occupying the sides while Candour sat opposite him. Thadius stood by his side, with Harrogate on the other. Farza of Intersia looked worse for wear with the others somewhere between him and the radiant Lady Franks. Nareena’s eyes narrowed more than usual, and she appeared somewhat naked without her eunuch escort. But it was the Lord from Truska that drew his attention.

Grendor Havvit barely fitted on his chair. When coupled with his barrel-like body, his scruffy brown hair, buttress of a forehead, bushy eyebrows, and impressive beard all served to reinforce Josh’s impression of how a mountain man should look. It planted the seeds of an idea in Josh, one he’d have liked the time to run by Thadius, Harrogate and the others.

“King,” he said. “I understand you want me to be king.” He paused. “But I’m not sure that’s a good idea because a king is more than just a monster hunter. He must also run the kingdom and deal with taxes, petty disputes and the like. I hunt monsters. It is what I want to do and what I will do.”

“But you don’t have to do the rest,” Candour said. “I can do that for you.”

Josh leveled his gaze on the old king’s Justice. “That is where your plans and mine clash. There is Intersia and Artusia. There is Mid Loren and Truska. There is Eldorwyn, Sillia, and then the old king’s province of Califire. Seven provinces to make up one Mythelore. Were you to run this country, Candour, it would remain six provinces dominated by one. Artusia and Intersia would squabble and wage war on each other. Eldorwyn would remain detached, as would Nareena in Sillia, both facing a greater threat from the Hangsane than any other.”

“And the elves and dwarves,” Nareena hissed. “Don’t forget the twigs and the stumpies. They have eyes on our lands.”

“An issue I will solve for you.”

“So what are you proposing?” Montague asked.

“Simple. Seven provinces—seven votes. No vote can ever be tied. Each province has its concerns, and each can bring those to a table. I propose Candour runs Califire as he has been doing that for years, and so it would make total sense for him to continue.”

“But what will you do?”

“I will protect the kingdom.” He turned to the mountain man. “Grendor, tell me, are all of your race as powerful as you?”

“Our lives are hard. Monsters aside, there are creatures in the mountains that would raise the hairs on the back of your neck. We must be strong to survive.”

“Then you will supply me with six of your strongest warriors. Farza, are all your assassins as accomplished as Lex?”

“Some are more so. Her training was interrupted.”

“Then you shall supply me six of your finest assassins. Montague, what would be your province’s specialty?”

“We produce assassins to counter Intersia, but our weapon of choice would always be the spear.”

“Six of your best warriors, please.”

“Lady Franks?”

“We are a land of chivalry and standard. Our soldiers favor the sword.”

“Then you shall supply me melee. Your finest swords, please.”

“What of you, Nareena?”

The woman cast a glance toward Josh. “We have swords and spears, but we favor more distant combat. Archers would be our specialty.”

“And you, Sendor?”

“We have no particular specialty. The bow, the sword, the spear?”

“We called that Utility where I come from—six of your best.” He paused. “Ladies and gentlemen, what we have formed, there are six monster hunting parties, each comprised of a warrior from each province. The finest in Mythelore.”

“What about Califire’s contribution?” Lady Franks asked.

“We have already given Josh,” said Candour.

“No, you’ve given nothing,” Josh cut in. “But you will, and you’ve all witnessed their power. Six wizards from Califire. That Candour is your contribution.”

“But that will leave us with none.”

“I’ll come back to that as there is one more party member needed to complete the monster hunting party. We need six healers—six like Vella—and for them, I will travel to Alianthia, and I will request six healers. That will give us seven monster-hunting parties to cover Mythelore and Alianthia, which brings me to my second proposal. We must overhaul our magical academies and structure. A witch can no longer be regarded as a witch. She must be a sorceress with equal rank and respect as a wizard commands. There is only one harmonic—”

“We have harmonics, and I’ll not have a woman assuming power over men,” Farza said.

“Darling,” Lady Franks said. “All of your women have power over you. They merely have to open their legs to dominate you. Imagine what they could do with their minds.”

“It’s what scares them,” Nareena said. “They deny we have power, so they don’t have to face it.” She stared at Josh. “You do not fear us, why?”

“I fear some but not all. I fear Cassandra, and yet she loves me. Her power is without limit. Her gender has nothing to do with it.”

“A man is born to lead. A woman is born to give birth,” Farza said.

Lady Franks laughed. “It’s delightful that you think that. Yet, all you do is lead your army against your neighbor while using female assassins to carry out your orders. That doesn’t make sense.” She pouted. “You could try attacking me and see how that works out for you.”

“Our friends, the Intersians, are good at dying,” Montague said.

“You wish to test that statement?” Farza asked.

Lady Franks chuckled. “A couple of words and you are at each other’s throats like children. Tell me, both of you, what do you fear? Surely it’s not allowing your women to display their magic rather than hide it?”

“Artusia would welcome any with magic,” Montague said, his chin in the air. “As long as they bend to a man’s rule.”

Farza cleared his throat. “Intersia, too.”

“My God,” Lady Franks said. “Have you two just agreed about something? Josh, you are a miracle worker.”

He dipped his head. “I believe that was all on you. What about you, Grendor?”

The mountain man shifted, his chair clearly uncomfortable. “We do not have the luxury of our Eastern friends. We cannot have half of our population wasted and must use everyone to their fullest. We have witches, and we have wizards. All are welcome to learn new powers or enhance their existing ones as long as it benefits Truska.”

“Or Mythelore,” Josh pointed out.

“We rarely have the luxury of worrying about anything beyond our borders. Our life is hard, Josh.”

“Pfft,” said Nareena. “You should try living in swamplands.”

“We tolerate cold that could snap a man’s cock off,” Grendor said. “Your men snap them off for a flutter of their Lady’s eyelids.”

She smiled. “Because I’m worth it. Likewise for Sillia. You may have any hag you want.” She straightened. “The truth of it is this. We don’t know how many women might have genuine talent. Those displaying promise hide it for fear of persecution.”

“Sendor?”

“Cassandra is one of ours,” he said softly. “We rejected her from our community, shunned her and ridiculed her. We had to turn to a stranger in Josh to take on the cult. He saw potential in someone we dismissed.” He gasped. “I vow here before all of you I will never make that mistake again.”

“That just leaves you, Lord Candour?”

He smirked, the following grimace acknowledging Josh’s use of his new title. “I have been backed into one corner at this table, and now I find myself in another. I did not seek to be Lord of Califire. Let me clear that up to start with.”

“Then don’t be Lord. Nominate someone else,” Nareena said.

“Alas, I am the only choice if Josh will not take on Califire. Regarding Cassandra, it is no secret that I find her disrespectful to the station of High Wizard, High Sorceress, or whatever we call it. I like my magicians to have some mystical dignity. She dresses like a common street girl—”

Josh stood, planting both hands on the table. “Disrespect—”

Candour held his hand up. “I beg your indulgence to finish.”

Josh held his steel stare on Candour momentarily, then sat.

“She dresses like a common street girl, but my thoughts have changed slightly. I find myself asking myself a question, and this is pertinent to you, Farza, and to you, Montague, who, like me, doubt this new course. Let me ask you the question, and please answer it truthfully. You are faced with a beast, cornered—a beast, a monster, a thing of immeasurable power—and it is after wearing your guts as a necklace, who would you want beside you? You are allowed one defender, and you can pick from anyone in the land, barring Josh. I’ll not give you an easy out.”

Farza shifted uncomfortably. “Some of those young wizards showed promise. Particularly the pyromancer.”

Candour quirked his eyebrow. “Is that your choice?” He held his hand up again. “Montague, you must make the same choice, but the beast you face is Farza and his choice. Who will you pick?”

“I’ll choose the witch. I’ll have her by my side.” He sneered at Farza. “And you will die.”

“But,” Farza said quickly. “I was not told all the rules. I would have her if I knew I had to face him!”

“So,” Candour summed up. “You both choose the woman who’s not fit to fill the post of High Wizard. This is the same conclusion I came to, and while she was busy saving me,”—he leaned forward— “guess what, gentlemen? I didn’t give a flying fuck what she wore. I have changed my mind. She can fight for this kingdom wearing whatever she wants. I choose the witch, Cassandra, to become our High Sorceress and propose Califire to host her academy.”

Josh dipped his head. “And I thank you for your words. Do we need to vote? I think Lord Farza and Lord Montague have cast their votes. Any against the sorceress Cassandra Day?”

“I think the point has been driven home by the Lord of Califire,” Lady Franks said with ill-concealed amusement.

“In which case,” Josh said, “I would invite Thadius to talk about our plans.”

Thadius opened the door, letting in Dinsy and Blitz. “Fairies,” he said. “I’d like to introduce you to Dinsy and Blitz.” The two fairies perched on his shoulders. “For those of you who do not know. Fairies have the unique ability to sniff out magic—or, more precisely—mana use. They can feel the concentrations and sense disturbances.”

“You would use monsters?” Nareena spat.

Josh rolled his eyes. “You think these monsters, having just witnessed what a monster is? Fairies are no more monsters than you or I. They are our allies, and we will seek allies wherever we can find them. This coming fight will not be against one leviathan. It will be against armies of monsters. Make no mistake, this world is changing.” He paused. “Nareena, you have a choice. You can side with us, or you can work on your own. If the thought of fighting with elves or dwarves is too much for you, then go hide in your swamp and hope no monsters find you.”

“The monsters already know where we are. They cross our borders.” She grinned, but it was a cold smile devoid of any emotion. “But like Farza and Montague, perhaps I can accept this new world.”

“May I continue?” Thadius asked.

“Please do,” Lady Franks said.

“We have a number of fairies at our disposal, and they will travel the land in search of those gifted with magic. We would ask each of you to inform your people that they are protected and members of The Misfits Monster Hunting Guild. Any attack on them is an attack on us. I hope I make myself clear.”

“And what will you do when they find these people?” Sendor asked.

“We will offer them a position at our new university. We will train them to hunt monsters. We will not teach them to fill sails with wind or irrigate fields. Until we have nullified this threat, all must learn to kill. These will become dark times. I don’t even know if we have time to prepare.”

“How do we know things are so dour?” Grendor asked.

“My gut tells me,” Josh said. “But Harrogate has been at this much longer than I, so perhaps it is time for him to speak.”

Harrogate stepped forward. “You’ve all ignored me before, but I very much hope you don’t again. I have studied monster incursions all my life. Ask yourselves this. From what you’ve seen lately, are seven teams enough? If there is any doubt that it is, then think about this. For the last fifty years, we’ve survived with two; for much of that time, one was ostracized. So it tells you that you already know. Necrotic wolves, lizardmen, a leviathan, trolls, harpies and Amex boars—all in the last months. That is what we know of. What we don’t know is what else has attacked. What else has ravaged our lands while the Misfits dealt with that beast?”

“What if nothing has?” Lady Franks asked. “What if it was all just a coincidence?”

“Then we can all go home and not worry about it, but let me add a little context.” He opened his satchel and took out some stones, placing them on the table. “These are the portal stones the lizardmen used to invade our lands. They pulled thirty-plus soldiers through—warriors including priests, pyromancers and common soldiers—an army, not a monster. Without Josh and his guild, there may well be hundreds here. Why are the lesser monsters fleeing the Hangsane? What is the threat called Ravenheart?” He banged one of the stones on the table. “Make no mistake, there has been an acceleration. The threat is growing. Seven, Lords and Ladies, is not enough.”

Harrogate sat, and silence settled for a moment until Farza broke it.

“But how do we know this Ravenheart exists? And how would some leviathan communicate with a beast in the mountains?” asked Lord Farza.

Josh stood back up. “We’re closing in on a theory. We think we have what they need. We believe the monsters are feeding on us and that our increased vigor is what they seek. I have some tests I wish to run, but for that, I must travel to the Hangsane. This is why I cannot sit on a throne in Califire. This is why you need teams capable of beating monsters, and this is why you need to trust the fairies. They are the only ones who can get word to us quickly, no matter where we are in the land.”

“So, the monsters aren’t just after our flesh?” Lady Franks said, recoiling.

“No. They are feeding on our lifeforce, our vitality—our vigor. That is what we suspect, but we have no proof. It does, however, lead us to a hypothesis.”

“Which is?” Candour asked.

“Something is draining their vigor—something, some being, some overarching connection is stealing their lands and draining their vigor, which is why they are hunting us.”

Chapter Eighteen

JOSH SQUIRMED, sliding out from between the girls and putting the table between him and them.

“I’m not wearing that!” He glared at the blue velvet tunic.

“It’s regal,” Arabella said, and while he may well have deferred to her when it came to style and clothing, the slight upturn at the ends of her lips told him she wanted him to put it on to amuse her.

He narrowed his eyes and pointed at Cassandra. “You wouldn’t wear it. Hell, I nearly had to fight all the Lords and Ladies so you could dress how you wanted to!”

She edged toward him, taking one side of the table while Arabella closed from the other. The witch had managed to shorten her skirt again, and it now barely concealed her pussy. Her breasts threatened to break free from her tight shirt, and she’d drawn what looked suspiciously like a pentagram around her belly button. In short, she looked stunning. “But I can turn them all into toads with a blink of my eye. They fear me in a much deeper way.” She shrugged. “But, thank you. Now, put the coronation tunic on.”

“No!” he said. “Lex, help me here, would you? Remember, I saved you from the clutches of death and Candour’s service.”

Lex regarded him. “I’m not sure you want to use that now. I’m sure there will be more desperate times than this. Besides, you don’t look particularly worried.”

Josh pointed to his face. “This face is petrified, I can tell you.”

She pointed to his dick. “I was referring to the beast. If you were truly worried, why’s it so hard it’s twitching?”

“Have you seen you four?” He pointed at Vella. “She’s spreadeagled on the bed naked as the day she was born, for a start. What man wouldn’t get a boner?”

Lex sighed. “Girls, you may as well forget about dressing him.”

“Who’s side are you on?” Arabella spat but grinned all the same, darting for Josh, who raced to the bed, jumping on it and using Vella as a barrier.

“Yours,” Lex said. “But face facts. You’re not going to fit him in those pants all the while he’s got a dick like a wizard’s staff. We need to attend to that first.”

“I’ll do it,” Vella said, coming onto her knees in one fell swoop and grabbing Josh’s manhood. “As long as he wears the blue thingy.”

Joshy looked down at her, her tiny hands wrapped around his manhood, lips primed by his engorged crown. “I like blue,” he said. “Of course, I’ll wear it.”

“It’s a compromise,” Josh said as they emerged from their wagons. “The tunic is on, and that’s all I promised."

“What have you got on her?” Arabella asked.

“Cassandra? Nothing much. You know she prefers black, so suggesting we match would always win.”

“Got free blow job—cheated me. Vella loves blue,” Vella said, skipping away and turning. “But black looks good, too, and you filled me full of vigor.”

Vella wore her usual two-piece green clothes and nothing else. Her hair had grown a lot and nearly reached her waist. She looked more like a sprite than an elf and had endeared herself to all the Lords and Ladies, barring Nareena, who still sneered at her at every opportunity.

Josh walked to the compound’s gates and stopped, taking a breath of fresh morning air. “I’m glad we’re having it outside. I’d hate to be trapped in the compound hall with all those stuffy courtiers. Where the hell did they all come from at such short notice?”

“You know full well,” Melody said, drawing beside him. “I thought you were wearing blue?”

“Cassandra changed it to black for me. There’s little point in counting the most powerful sorceress in the land among your friends and lovers if they can’t get you out of a tight spot now and then.”

“The courtiers are Lady Franks’ staff,” Thadius said. “I still think it would have made for a better celebration had we crowned you at her demises.”

“They all said it should be here, so here it is,” Josh replied.

“But you are king. You get to do what you want.”

“Since agreeing, I’ve found it completely opposite. Not only do I not get to do what I want to do, but I constantly have people tell me what I should do.”

Thadius chuckled. “You’ll get used to it. You could have had Candour take care of the politics for you, but you chose to make him a Lord instead.”

“Because I thought they’d all take care of their own shit, not act like school kids and constantly badger me for favors.”

“Then I would suggest using these words: ‘Why not bring it up at your next meeting and see what the vote is?’ If that’s all you say, it’ll teach them to call regular meetings and save you getting involved.”

“I’ll try that then.”

“It won’t work,” Thadius said. “But it’s worth a try.”

“Why won’t it work?”

“Because you’re King.”

Josh ground his teeth. “So, what the fuck do I do?”

“Make a decision, and if they don’t like it, refer them to their council. In fact, the more they don’t like your decision, the less likely they are to bother you again.”

“That sounds…” He scraped at his newly-shaven chin. “That sounds workable.”

New Califire spread out before them. It was a shadow of its former self—barely a cluster of buildings that could be classed as anything but temporary, but then, work on them had stopped as soon as they’d announced the coronation. Candour had ordered an enormous stage constructed. Cassandra had formed some natural seating from the hillside, and an open-air theater of sorts had materialized. The wizards had added trimmings. Iron stands held eternal firepits courtesy of Rezzid’s pyromancy. He’d also braced the stage, added an ornate backdrop and sat a bronze throne in its center. True, the whole celebration was cobbled together, but from the jaws of such utter destruction, they had salvaged some dignity and a vast swell of pride filled Califire’s survivors.

Even those travelling in from other provinces became gripped with the need to help Califire rebuild. They sent for stone masons, joiners and smiths. From the devastation of the leviathan’s attack came a sense of togetherness that Josh suspected had never existed in Mythelore. He was determined to rinse that for all it was worth so that he might unite them to his cause.

However, when Simmalion of Elarathon arrived with a contingent of ranking the so-called magical races in tow, those bonds of new friendship and camaraderie strained. A division appeared that split the growing population in two. Needless to say, Nareena and her contingent formed one faction, vehemently against the elves, dwarves, goblins and pixies. Others, Sendor included, thought it a time for reconciliation. Candour, ever the political animal, tactfully arranged the seating to avoid a confrontation. However, that only highlighted the split with the two factions sitting opposite each other.

“This could go one of two ways,” Harrogate said as they marched from the gates and along the route to the theatre. “It could turn into full-scale war, or you could unite them.”

“Let’s prepare for the first and hope for the second,” Josh replied.

“Already done it. That’s why you don’t see Melody anywhere.”

“Just what have you got up your sleeve?”

“Do you remember that ballista adaptation we tested—the one supposed to sever the creature’s tentacles?”

“The one you couldn’t get accurate enough over distance?”

“That one. Well, we adapted it. If there’s any trouble, Melody will soon put a stop to it.”

“Not by killing them, I hope.”

“Not quite, but people have a lot of trouble fighting if they’re running in fear for their lives.”

Josh pursed his lips. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“As you well know,” Harrogate said, his chin up and hands behind his back. “As a rule, I hate people. Something will happen.”

“Josh has his speech ready,” Thadius pointed out. “It’s on his shoulders to unite them. It’s what a king does.”

“Well, I’ve got news for you. I’m no King. Nothing on my CV points to it.”

“What’s a CV?” Arabella asked.

“It’s like a list of your accomplishments.”

“So,” Cassandra said. “Mine would read likes to blast stuff with magic. Has killed a stone colossus.”

“Yeah, that’s about what a CV is. Mine was a little more boring, but it’s getting better now. I’ll be honest, never thought I’d add king to the bottom of it.”

“Well,” Thadius said. “I never thought I’d add a member of a monster-slaying guild to mine. I thought I should be farming a small plot now.”

Arabella nudged him. “Bet you’re having a better time.”

“Will be once I meet up with Simm again.”

“Aw,” said Cassandra. “They have pet names for each other. Simm—which I’m guessing is short for Simmalion. Highly inventive. So, what’s your name? Thad? Or Grumpy Old Git?”

“Very funny. I see your humor hasn’t vanished like the material that once made up your skirt.” Thadius looked around for support, but his strained joke had fallen on deaf ears.

“Is that the best you can counter with?” Cassandra asked.

“Yes, yes it is,” he said, eyes to the ground.

Nerves began to gather in Josh’s guts, knotting his intestines tightly. It was all a bad dream—not something he’d sought, but something that had barreled its way toward him, and he hadn’t managed to avoid it. He’d thought he’d made the best of it—forming the counsel and effectively removing himself from any decision-making, but somehow, he knew everything would fall back on him and be either his fault or his success—likely just as he was about to set out and do what he wanted to do.

They entered the makeshift theater just as dusk fell. Candour and Lady Franks had arranged the early evening coronation so everyone would have to remain sober and then only have a few hours to drink themselves into a stupor. Grendor had contributed fifty casks of Truskan whiskey, while Farza and Montague had some fine northern liquors couriered in by Intersian runners. Lady Franks had donated several crates of her finest wine, and Sendor’s cooks had baked savory treats for all. The elves and dwarves brought trinkets and intricately carved talismans that would supposedly protect Josh from evil.

Which only left Nareena, who presented Josh with a strange necklace. A single drop of amber held a snake’s eye and hung from a heavy silver chain. She told Josh that when he wore it, he could sense any companion’s intentions and that any enemy would reveal themselves.

“I hate that bloody necklace,” Arabella whispered.

“Me too, but I can’t exactly not wear it. Whatever else she is, she’s one of my Ladies and a member of my table. If I don’t wear it, I’m denying her gift.”

“But it’s like she’s staring from your chest.”

“Want me to wear it in bed?”

“No, I do not!” Arabella cried. “You could tuck it in so the chain’s visible, but the eye is hidden.”

“We’ll still know it’s there,” said Elowen.

“It’s evil eye.” Vella jumped in front of him, leaning into it and poking her tongue out. “She watches through it.”

“But Dinsy said it had no magic,” Josh reminded her.

“It doesn’t. It channels,” Vella said, and she poked her tongue out again.

“Are you sure?” Josh asked. It was all the excuse he needed to take it off.

“No,” she said, quashing his hopes. “But it does something.”

“Gives me the creeps. That’s what it does,” Cassandra said. She held the Everdeep staff out, its jewel flicking torchlight over her scant clothes, jeweling her boots with fractured light. “I’ll take great delight in obliterating it as soon as that bitch goes back to her swamp.”

The crowd rose as one, applauding, cheering, whooping and hollering. A guard of honor flanked them. Josh recognized several faces, but their names escaped him. He had yet to entirely understand the army’s function, whether it would continue to act like a regular military or become seconded to the monster-hunting teams. Much depended on striking a treaty with Alianthia and both countries coming together for a common cause. But he accepted the honor and thanked the men as he passed through. He was, after all, their defacto leader. He climbed the stage, taking a seat between Lady Franks and Candour. The ex-justice leaned in.

“It took the best part of today to agree on these seating plans. You’ll notice that differing Lords and Ladies flank you at the meal, and you will have new companions again for your evening stroll. Each of them wants your ear. Each will bend it in their direction. I could have saved you all the pain.”

“Then elect a Lord to take your place.”

“There is no other Lord. All are weak in Califire.”

“In which case, I would stop making points and get on ruling your province. I will make choices, but all my choices will be just that—my own. It’s up to the seven of you to do the rest. If you are unhappy with the arrangement, take it up with your council and change the constitution.”

Lady Franks leaned in, concealing her lips with a fan. “I think the constitution we have needs overhauling. It slants toward a king making all the choices.”

“Then that should be your first business. Draw up a new constitution, and I will sign it into law.”

“You would give up power?” Candour asked.

“Where I come from, we would call it a republic. I remember reading about one particular land mass that called its provinces, states and the overall country, The United States of America. You could be The United Provinces of Mythelore.”

Lady Franks laughed. “All we would have to be is united. Not so hard, eh, Candour?”

“I saw Farza and Montague talking together earlier.” He sighed. “I’m beginning to believe anything is possible.”

“Time to stand, Josh,” Lady Franks said.

Grendor and Nareena approached from the dais’ side. The mountain man wore a bear fur, its head covering his long hair, its pelt draping over his broad shoulders. He’d ratcheted up his usual imposing presence. Nareena’s dress was reminiscent of a serpent, her black hair greased against her scalp and neck, her dress skintight and shining like oil. The dress trailed behind her, giving the impression her body extended to a tail.

Cassandra rounded the row of seated Lords and Ladies, taking a moment to greet Simmalion. She stood by Josh as he turned to face the Lord of Truska and Lady of Sillia.

“Perhaps I am underdressed,” Cassandra said. “But they can’t do this.”

A bright red light beam shot from her staff, rising to the night sky and exploding in vivid yellow rays, forming an umbrella of brightness over the theatre. When she spoke, her voice came from everywhere, louder than a Goddess, more scary than the devil himself.

“Welcome to New Califire. I am High Sorceress Cassandra Day. We are here this evening to crown Josh Underwood, Slayer of the Leviathan, Conquerer of the Dark Sect, Vanquisher of the Lizardmen, Scurge of all Monsters and Founder of The Guild of Misfits, King of Mythelore. If any disagree, then speak now and face my wrath.”

Her words echoed in the silence.

“No? Shame,” Cassandra continued. “Grendor of Truska, Nareena of Sillia, do you pledge to serve your King on pain of death?”

Josh squirmed a little as Cassandra went off script but was inwardly amused simultaneously. The Truskan lord dropped to one knee, head bowed, hands outstretched and holding a golden torque. “I do. Please, my King, accept this crown.”

Josh took the torque and placed it on his head. “Rise, Lord of Truska and never bow to anyone again. Such is your station in this land.”

Grendor rose, stepping back and leaving Nareena isolated.

Cassandra gave the Sillian a cold stare. “Nareena?”

She glared back at the sorceress. “If I had one ounce of your power…”

“But you don’t, do you?” Cassandra whispered.

Nareena sank to her knees, offering Josh a golden scepter. “I do. Please, my King, accept this scepter.”

Josh took the scepter and Nareena’s hand. He helped her up. “Rise, Nareena of Sillia, and never bow to any in this land again. Such is your station.”

She stared at him. “I don’t intend to.” She backed away, holding his gaze, then breaking off and glaring at Cassandra.

Cassandra inclined her head. “How touching.” She turned to the audience, her voice booming once more.

“Please, stand and cheer your King, for this day, Mythelore is a safer place. All hail King Josh!”

The crowd stood as one, clapping and cheering as the bright umbrella receded and a thousand explosions lit the sky, bright lights cascading down, stars shooting, and explosions cracking.

“That is some light show,” Josh said. “Is there no end to your power?”

Cassandra shrugged. “Not found it yet.” She closed, her lips brushing his ear. “Nareena is up to something. I’m just not sure what.”

Josh stared after Nareena as she hurried off the stage. “Yep. She’s trouble.”

Chapter Nineteen

JOSH HAD NEVER BEEN A DANCER. Some of the stuff played in the outer space stations barely resembled music to him. He avoided dancefloors, karaoke—just about anything that involved performing to music. But he couldn’t avoid his coronation celebration, and Mythelorians knew how to party. Performers plied their trade everywhere. An open theatre replayed the leviathan slaying, while another performed the demise of the lizardmen. Flutists played merry tunes. A band occupied the raised stage in the compound’s main hall. Its lutist constantly sported an annoying grin, and the harpist jerked her head around like she was fitting, but the singer could sing, even if the tunes were a little jaunty for Josh’s like.

He showed enough interest in Grendor’s in-depth explanation of mountain farming to avoid the first few dances and continued to duck requests as Farza explained how the large channels they’d used to divert the river during the leviathan takedown might be used to irrigate portions of his dessert.

So when Simmalion approached him, he was ready to tackle the touchy subject of Mythelorian and Alianthian relations. However, as she took his hand and led him to the dance floor, he realized he was anything but safe.

“This display of togetherness will do more for our mutual relations than any other,” she said, closing the door on any excuse he might have concocted and sealing his fate with fourteen words.

“I don’t know how to dance,” he blurted.

She stepped back, her eyes wide but quickly narrowing. “Don’t know or don’t want to know?”

“Straight up don’t know. Where I come from, I avoided these types of occasions like the plague.”

She composed, signaling to the band, who immediately changed the tempo to a smoother tune. “Just follow everything I do,” Simmalion said.

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered.

Lines formed on either side of them, the dancers sporting broad smiles as the band played a medley that ended in a crescendo of noise, quickly settling to a smooth, flowing tune. Simmalion grabbed his hands, pulling him to her, then pushing him away, pulling him to her again, but this time sliding past him to switch sides.

“See, it’s easy,” she said, breezing by him again, twirling around and grasping his still outstretched hand.

“Except everyone else is in time,” he said as they pressed together.

“Everyone else has danced it before. You’re trying, that’s the point.” She twirled again, moving to one side as a new partner appeared in front of him.

Oh God, no!

The woman was old, a little overweight and clearly important to someone. She flashed her bejeweled fingers at Josh, prompting him to take them. Josh reached for her chubby hand, pulling her to him, pushing her away and then spinning around her as he slid past her and swapped places. They came close. She smelt of soured rose petals. He stepped back then forward, spinning and sliding past her to step to one side and stand before his next partner, relieved to see who it was.

“Have you danced this before?” Elowen asked as they came together.

“I’m just following everyone else,” he said as he stepped back, then forward, meeting her and chancing a peck on the cheek before stepping away.

“Then how come you’re leading everyone else?” she asked as they slid past each other to switch sides.

He looked along the line. Everyone was a fraction behind him, watching him for his next move.

The ring! The ring watched Simmalion and learned!

He held his ring finger up. “I think my little friend analyzed the dance and is helping me out,” he said, drew her close, kissed her passionately before stepping back, forward, spinning and switching sides. He stepped to one side.

“You never told me you were accomplished at the Great Dance!” Lady Franks positively beamed at him. “And accomplished enough to add your own trysts!”

“I have never danced this before.” He held up his ring. “But this helps me immensely in everything I do.”

“Everything?” she asked as she blushed deeply.

He grinned. “Well, if it extends to dancing, think what else it improves. I’ll let your imagination run with that.” He spun past her, stepping aside and welcoming the sight of Arabella. “How soon can we get out of this?”

“You look like you’re enjoying it.” She grinned. “Learning it like you learned to use a sword?”

“Oh yes!” he said. “I’m just a passenger.”

He stepped forward and back, clapped and spun. “Thought I’d add a clap in; give it some oomph!”

Arabella laughed as she stepped aside, presenting him with his next partner.

“I never had you down as a dancer, Nareena. I thought you more the sultry corner type.”

The Sillian cocked her head. “Well, you have me wrong then. I like to have fun—lots of fun. Ask any of my eunuchs. They have to entertain me on pain of death.”

“I prefer my fun to be a little more two-way than that,” he said, her face blurring slightly like she’d suddenly grown an aura. A tinge of blue colored his vision, telling him something poisonous was close. He didn’t have to think too hard where it might be.

“Mutual fun is overrated. When you’re top of the tree, only your pleasure counts, and you are top of the tree, Josh. Even I would focus solely on pleasing you.”

“Tempting, but we like to have fun, too,” he said, sidestepping the odd woman.

“You two looked like you were having fun,” Lex said. “Are you inviting her into our family?”

He pulled her close. “Not in a million fucking years.”

She laughed. “You need time to think about that?”

He grinned. “You know, I think I’m actually having fun dancing. Who’d have thought it?”

As he said the words, the doors burst open, a group of soldiers spilling through, holding up one woman. Blood streaked her face, one arm hanging limp by her side. The music ground to a painful halt as Nareena screamed, rushing up to the woman and instantly surrounded by eunuchs.

“Who did this to you, Charise?”

Josh strode toward the group, the eunuchs parting for him. “A monster?”

Charise fell to her knees, gasping, her eyes suddenly wide with fear.

“It was them! They killed us all!”

Josh followed her gaze to see Simmalion. “The elves?”

“All of them,” she said, then fell forward. “Stumpies, too.” Her body went limp.

Nareena knelt by her, holding her neck. She stared up at Josh. “Dead,” she said. “How’s your peace now?” The Sillian stood, coming nose to nose with Simmalion. “This means war, and I’ll fight it on my own if I have to.”

Josh slid between the two. “We must find out what’s going on. One border incursion doesn’t make an invasion.”

“Says the man who’s bedding a twig!” Nareena spat. “The time for words is over. My commander lies dead, right by us. She says all are dead, too—she commanded a hundred soldiers. It’s time for you to choose, my King. Are you human, or are you one of them?”

She turned, walking from the hall as her eunuchs picked up Charise’s body.

“Do you know anything about this?” Josh asked Simmalion.

“She doesn’t,” Thadius said.

“All due respect, Thadius, but I wasn’t asking you.”

Thadius scowled. “When I—”

“Let Simmalion talk. She was the last of us in Endover.”

“When I left there, all was peaceful. We’d had a few monster incursions, but nothing we couldn’t handle ourselves. Since word of your deeds spread, everyone wants to fight monsters. We turned our attention to the Hangsane, not Mythelcore,” Simmalion said, her hands shaking. “I must return to Endover.” She turned to Thadius. “I’m sorry, my love, but I must go as swiftly as possible. I will ride through the night and tomorrow and send word.”

“What will you do?” Thadius asked Josh.

“I will ride after Nareena.”

“No, you must call a meeting of your council first. It will be their first test. Nareena’s vote is cast. It pains me to say this, but the motion must be war or not. If Alianthia has truly invaded Mythelcore, then the other six must support the one who has been wronged.”

“You understand what you are saying?”

“I do.”

“Then I will call the meeting, and you will be my proxy. I don’t believe for a moment Simmalion knew anything of this, but we must act like the news is correct. Armies can always be turned around.”

“So, you would vote for war?”

“I would vote to prepare for war. A foe is at work here, but we don’t know who. It is our task to find out who.”

“Our?” Thadius asked.

“The Misfits.”

Josh climbed into the wagon. “Give me some options.”

Elowen looked up from the map. “We are a day by horse from South Sillia depending on the going. If it’s raining, double that. If we push the horses too much, they’ll go lame.”

“By wagon?”

“Four days—the roads are terrible, and that’s pushing the horses to their limit.”

Cassandra coughed. “That’s not a problem. I’ll geoform them as we go.”

“They still can’t pull wagons for every hour of every day?” Elowen looked doubtful.

“I can give them vigor,” Vella said. “Can make three days, perhaps two and a half.”

“But we don’t need to go all the way by wagon,” Josh pointed out. “We could get to Mid-Sillia and establish a base. Scout from there.”

Elowen’s finger wandered. “There’s a town called Sinsibar close to the middle of Sillia. We could confiscate a building there, set up a guild house and investigate.”

“At least we’d have a base in Sillia,” Arrabella said. “After all, whatever this problem is, Nareena’s not going away.”

“We can’t assume Nareena staged this,” Cassandra said. “I hate the woman as much as the rest of you, but I also know what it’s like to be different. We have to assume her lands have been attacked. That Sillian soldier had been mauled, and she rode for a night and day to raise the alarm. That’s not staged. That’s real.”

“Can we have Arabis meet us there? Perhaps with some fairies?”

“I’ll send Dinsy,” Cassandra said. “Have you instructed the Lords and Ladies?”

“Thadius, Lady Franks and Candour are dealing with it.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” the sorceress asked.

Cassandra’s light orb hung in front of her carriage. The road morphed moments before the horses stepped onto it, turning from a pitted, rain-soaked mess into a flat, stone-chip road raised slightly above the eerie swamp lining it. The moon hung at the road’s end, spreading its silver light over twisted trees, small hillocks, and floating islands. It was a desperate place, hard to see why anyone would want to live in it, let alone invade it.

“This is some shithole,” Josh said, slapping a bug biting his cheek. “How the hell can it be so humid this time of night?”

“It’s unnatural, I can tell you that much. This is the work of an aeromancer. Their magic is keeping this gloom in place. She wants it like this. It suits her.”

“She’s creating her own swamp?”

“Sillia is known to be inhospitable. Travelers rarely venture farther than the closest trading point to the border.”

“Are you saying she deliberately puts people off from coming here?”

“I’m saying the weather—the humidity and the heavy atmosphere aren’t natural. I can feel the spell’s mana at work.”

“Could you reverse it?”

“Why would we interfere? Let’s travel through it and see what awaits us on the other side.”

Josh slapped another bug. “I can’t see why anyone would want to live in this. It’s worse than the bogart’s swamp. At least that had a bit of life to it.”

Cassandra scoffed. “Have you looked behind us?”

“Should I?” Josh turned nervously.

Elowen’s wagon followed them, with Arabella bringing up the rear. Lex sat next to Arabella, playing shotgun and scanning everything. Melody, Vella and Harrogate stayed inside Arabella’s wagon. They’d decided it was best to keep Vella out of sight, and Melody and Harrogate had a task to complete. As Josh looked back, hundreds of eyes reflected the moonlight, dotting the swamp with life. “Ah, that explains the mild red taint to my vision.”

“Just red?”

“A little blue, too.” He furrowed his brow. “Which is pretty bad of the ring when you think about it. Red and blue make mauve, so if I didn’t have a good gut feeling, I’d expect a magical attack at any moment.”

They trundled on, headed southeast. Sunrise eventually broke, and Josh looked over the swamp for the first time. It was far more colorful than the one that housed the Bang-Bang tree. Grass covered the floating islands, and the green spread across the forest’s canopy. The swamp dried as the morning dragged on, and the air grew less heavy. Josh stretched, his tunic ringed with sweat.

“I bet I stink,” he said.

“You and me both,” Cassandra muttered as Vella jumped between them.

“For fuck’s sake, Vella. You scared the living shit out of me!” Cassandra said, holding her heart.

“Horses need vigor. They’re tiring.”

“Can they keep going?” Josh asked. “I’d like to get to Sinsibar today if possible.”

“Need food. Look, there’s more green.” Vella pointed between the trees.

“And more there,” Cassandra said. “The sneaky bitch has put a belt of swampland around her land. This must be the center.”

“I was wondering how her land was hot and humid, yet it’s next to Sendor, which is plain old average.” Josh stood, trying to see further.

“Looks like a town in the distance,” he said. “Be right back.” He jumped off the carriage and straight back on Elowen’s. “How close are we to Sinsibar?”

Elowen looked glum. “According to my map, we’re only halfway there.”

“Then what’s that place?”

Elowen handed him the reigns, stood, and vanished inside the cart, reappearing shortly. “Has to be Sinsibar. There’s no other town on this route.”

“What’s that against its walls?”

“Looks like tents—black tents.”

Josh stood on the bench. “I gotta bad feeling about this.”

He jumped off the cart, waiting for Arabella to catch up. “Sinsibar’s up ahead. How’s the cart?”

“Still in one piece.”

Josh waited for her to pass, then jumped onto the coupling connecting the ballista to Arabella’s wagon, leaping to the door and bursting in on Melody, Harrogate and Vella. “We’re at Sinsibar. It’s come sooner than expected, but we think Nareena’s messed with her maps. Have you got the flashbangs ready?”

Harrogate stood, rounding the table and reaching into a barrel. He picked up a ball with a string hanging out of it. “This does what you wish.” He tossed it at Josh.

“Light the string and throw?”

“Easier than that. Pull the string. It creates heat through fiction, which triggers a reaction inside. You have a five count before they explode, but you did say you want a short fuse.”

“Crowd control,” Josh said, tossing it back. “Divide them into three and share them out. We circle the wagons as soon as we’re close, and I’ll go in with Elowen.”

“Why not Cassandra?” Melody asked.

“Because I want someone who can blow the fuck out of everything right here, and Elowen knows more about the culture here than anyone.”

“Do you think we’ll have trouble?”

“We will,” Vella said. “You have me.”

Josh reached for her, cupping her cheek. “And we’ll not let a damn thing happen to you.”

Chapter Twenty

THE TENTS SPRAWLED BEFORE THEM, a desperate scene unfolding as they neared the town of Sinsibar.

“They look like refugees,” Josh muttered.

His sphere of perception showed no threat, and he doubted it would. Old women and young children tended men and women laid on stretchers, bound in bandages, bloodied and bruised. Pots boiled on open fires, heavily spiced food bubbling away. Although it felt ominously quiet, it wasn’t. The moans and groans of the injured and dying rose over hushed whispers.

“What the hell?” Josh cursed. “Is it true? Have the elves really invaded?”

“They could have used Simmalion’s absence to sidestep her,” Elowen said.

“Could have. I don’t know enough about Alianthia to know if she’s that important.”

“Once, yes. As Harmonic, she was the most important elf in the land. Elves are factional—like us but more so. They split both by geography and the type of landscape they inhabit. There are light and dark, for instance. The Dark Elves live underground. The Light Elves split again. Tree Elves, for instance, live in the forest. Then there are Mountain Elves, Travelling Elves—all types. Additionally, they share Alianthia with dwarves, pixies, goblins and other races, and it’s hard to see them invading anything as one. They’re far too fragmented. They’d unite if Nareena invaded them, but if she started it and this is the result, then she’s screwed up badly.”

“The evidence is right in front of us. The only question is, who has caused it?” He marched up to the closest stretcher, a young man lying on it. “Who did this?”

The man looked up, his eyes narrowed in pain. He grimaced, his inhalation whistling through his teeth. “They did. Fucking elves, stumpies, all of them.”

“All?”

“The whole lot of ‘em. They didn’t care.”

“Didn’t care?” Elowen said, crouching.

“We killed them—loads of them, but they marched through. They didn’t care about their dead and dying. They marched straight over the top of them to get to us.” He closed his eyes, tears forming in the corners. “They didn’t care, just didn’t care. Black eyes staring, no life. No life…” He dissolved into tears.

Josh looked over the man. An old woman tended him, rinsing a cloth in a bowl. “Who’s in charge?”

She sniffed. “Yanis. All the others left with Nareena. Have you water? We need water.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Where do I find this Yanis?”

“Center of town. Dead center. Hiding in case the bastards come.”

Josh pulled Elowen up. “Get back to the wagons. See if Cassandra can’t help with the water—fill a well or something. Ask Arabella if there will likely be any hunting, and then get Melody to go with her.”

“What about me?”

“You stick to Vella like glue. Her natural urge will be to get among them and heal them. If she does that, they’ll tear her apart.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Find this Yanis and see what Nareena is up to. This soldier’s story doesn’t add up. The Aliantian invasion sounds more like a zombie attack than a preplanned invasion.”

“A what?”

“Zombie attack. Best fucking movies ever, but all with the same plot.”

“You talk absolute gibberish sometimes.”

Josh marched toward the town’s closed gates, stopping before them. “I’ve come to see Yanis.”

A soldier poked his head over the walls. “Fighting’s south. You’ve no business here.”

“Name’s Josh Underwood, and I’ve just been crowned your King, so if you want to live to see this evening, open the damn gates and show me to Yanis.”

The soldier sneered and looked at his companion, who shouted, “I’m Lady Nareena. Now, fuck off. We aren’t opening the gates for anyone.”

Josh drew his sword, swirling it one-handed over his head. “Very well. I’ll tear it down, then come for you two.”

He struck the gates, cleaving a hole through them, the rough planks disintegrating under the immense force of his blow. With a kick and a punch, he marched through, turning and looking up to see the two guards running for their lives. He leveled the mighty blade under another soldier’s chin.

“This blade is razor-sharp. One move, and your head will bounce off your toes. Now, about turn and march me to Yanis’ quarters, and hurry up, or I’ll decapitate you and find it anyway. Got it?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Yes, My King.”

“Yes, My King.”

“March, and while you’re marching, why are all those folks outside rather than in here? It’s not exactly crowded.”

“Not enough water to go around. We’re under orders to defend the town at all costs.”

“All costs, including your own wounded, the kids and the old ones, too?”

“All costs.”

Josh grunted. “Well, you’ve got no gates anymore, so that’s the end of that, isn’t it.”

“Yanis will send more soldiers. We’ve still got twenty or so here.”

“No, Yanis won’t.”

“You really King?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Shame to make my first execution yours.”

“Did you kill the leviathan?”

“Me and my team, who happen to be outside.”

The soldier stopped, Josh’s blade biting into his neck. “Say, can I join your team if I survive this?”

“Did you agree with closing the gates on all those poor souls outside?”

“I didn’t get asked.”

“But would you have?”

“No, no, I don’t. If the Twigs had come, they’d be dead by now.”

“Then you can apply,” Josh said as the soldier led him to a walled-in building in the town’s center. He looked up and hailed the guard in the watchtower.

“Don’t bother,” Josh said and gave the gate a solid kick, knocking it off its iron hinges. “Yanis!” he shouted as he marched unhindered toward the stout, columned building. He climbed a few steps straight into the building, the guards stepping aside. “Yanis!”

Open double doors led to an expansive courtyard, a fountain in its center with rich green grass surrounding it. A soldier stood looking at the fountain. He turned, his wizened eyes appraising Josh. He drew his sword, looking along the length of his blade.

“Could we compare cocks? I might have a chance.” He placed his feet and assumed a fighting stance. “Are you one of theirs—some freak from the south?” He advanced.

“You’d lose,” Josh said.

“I can see that.”

They circled, Yanis taking up a position to the side of the fountain.

“No, the cock contest. You’d lose.”

He sniffed. “Goes below your knee, does it,” he said, then grinned. “Can’t compete if it does. An inch shorter, and the victory is mine.”

“Why are the survivors outside the gates?”

“What gates? I’m told some idiot cleaved them through with an oversized sword.”

“Nevertheless.” Josh closed, Yanis positioning himself behind the fountain.

“My Lady Nareena said we couldn’t trust the Twigs. That they might have poisoned the survivors.”

“There is no poison.”

“You can tell?” Yanis asked.

“I can tell you a few things. First, something is up. Elves don’t fight blindly—they don’t trample their comrades. Second, no poison exists here, so you can let the refugees in. Third, I have High Sorceress Cassandra Day with me. If you need water, I can make it rain. Fourth, I can heal your injured, but you might not like it.”

“Why?”

“The healer is an elf.”

“Who are you?”

Josh circled the man. “Would you really fight me?”

The man spat on the grass. “I doubt you’d call it that? But I’d give it a go.”

Josh planted his sword in the turf. “I wanted to despise you for keeping them outside.”

“I’m a soldier. I follow orders first. I’m a commander. I like my orders to make sense. Poison made sense. Why else did the Twigs let them get away?”

“My name’s Josh—Josh Underwood, and I am your King, so I command you now.”

“Could the elf wear a cloak until things calm down?”

“I’ll ask,” said Josh.

“But you’re King.”

“She’s one of my wives,” Josh replied with a grin on his face.

“Understood.”

“Yanis, make ready your town to treat your wounded. My Misfits will travel among them, helping where they can. Any, and I repeat any, interference will fall to me to sort out, and I will take a dim view of any that get in my guild’s way.”

“Understood.”

Josh sheathed his sword and strapped it on his back. “Tell them all that if they aren’t worried about me, which would be a mighty miscalculation, my sorceress is very short-tempered.”

“Understood.”

“How many soldiers do you have here?”

“Twenty-six. The rest went with Lady Nareena.”

“Assess the injured and see if they can fill any slots once Vella has passed through them. Any of your soldiers, including you, can come with us and fight whatever scourge attacked Sillia.”

“You’ll have my tally, but it might be best to defend what we have.”

Josh returned to the circled wagons.

“Melody, we’re not going to need those flash bangs yet, but we’ll keep producing them. They’ll be great to stun monsters.”

Harrogate sat on a tree stump, scratching at his beard. “Do we have any idea what we’re up against?”

“I have clues, but that is all. This is how we proceed. We treat this like any other monster incursion. Elowen?”

“Yes?”

“You go among the wounded and get as many details as possible. Find out what happened, when the first attack was, what the elves and dwarves were like, and how they looked and attacked. Ask them if there was any coordination. Were they aware, enraged or sorrowful?”

“I get the picture. We research our foe.”

“Yes, and I want to make this point to all of you, including you, Vella. Whoever attacked these people is our enemy. It doesn’t matter if they are humans, elves, dwarves or monsters from the deep blue sea. They slaughtered old men and women. They killed children. These aren’t the actions of elves I know. These aren’t the actions of your people, Vella. So, Elowen, it’s on you to build me a picture and fast.”

“Me heal,” Vella said.

“Yes, but at the moment we have a lot of folks who want to tear you apart in revenge for what’s happened to their families and friends. I would suggest a disguise, but that’s going to be hard. Cassandra, can you do anything?”

“I can go with her. I know a few minor healing spells, and if any try anything, I’ll pull their heads out of their asses and punch them in the face.”

Josh coughed. “Something I’d like to see, but only on an enemy.”

“We could tie her up like a prisoner,” Melody suggested.

“Not a chance. She’s my family. She’ll be treated with the respect she deserves. I informed Yanis, their commander, that we have an elven healer in our number. He appears amenable, but he is only one man.” He exhaled, looking at the town. “Cassandra, get close. One show of force—but one that benefits. They need water—give them water but make it impressive. Then, go among them and begin healing. Word will soon spread.”

“What about us?” Harrogate asked.

“We can’t do much until Elowen reports back, but we know this—any attack will come from the south. Scout out the town wall and approach road, see if we can’t get some defenses in place. Perhaps position the ballista and teach a couple of soldiers how to use it?”

“And me?” Lex asked.

“My gut tells me we find a couple of swift horses and scout south. If an attack is imminent, we need to know. Knowledge is everything. Without it, we’re floundering like fools.”

“I’ll go find some horses.”

“And me?” Arabella asked, returning with a brace of hares.

“Two hares isn’t going to cut it. There must be more livestock, granaries, small holdings and the like. We need a decent idea of food available, and then we must find honest folk who’ll distribute it. I guess the population has doubled, and it’ll only get larger. They’re backed against the swamp and in no fit state to pass through it.”

“Can’t we change that if it’s only magic?” Melody asked.

“Those spells have been going for an age. One day’s sun won’t right a hundred years of wet, humid weather,” Cassandra said.

“Then we face facts. The wounded and refugees are stuck here, and until we can get word back to Califire, this is where they stay. Even if we get word back, that place is barely on its feet, let alone in a position to help.”

“I’ll assess the food,” Arabella said.

“Does everyone know what they’re doing?”

They all nodded.

“Any news on Arabus?” Josh asked Cassandra.

“He’ll be along. He can be a bugger to call, but if Dinsy can’t find him, he’ll feel my need at some point.”

Josh sat, his head falling into his hands as a yawn took him, racing through his entire body.

“Renew,” said Vella as she sat on his knee. “Vella sad.”

“Yes,” he said, his arm coming around her. “It’s not great. In my gut, I know the elves haven’t attacked, but what could have pushed them into these lands and enraged them so?”

“Don’t know, but many have died. I feel it. Many elves are no more.”

He squeezed her tightly. “We’ll sort it out. We’ll find out what caused this and put an end to it.”

“Yes,” she said, a tear snaking down her cheek.

Chapter Twenty-One

AS THEY RACED through the land beyond Sinsibar, Josh understood Nareena’s isolation. It was a cursed place. After a few miles, the land changed again, morphing from verdant countryside to harsh, rugged, windswept terrain. The road, a twin-track mud trail, turned to a twisting, weaving shale path that threaded between slag-like hills and soured pits. He’d been to a few mining asteroids in his time, and the place reminded him of them.

Pulling his mount up, he shifted his cloak around himself, covering his face against the dusty wind. He scanned for life, and, for a fleeting moment, he thought he saw more greenery in the distance.

“What the hell is this place?” he asked.

“It’s cursed—that much I can feel, and I have no magic,” Lex said.

She sat proudly in her saddle, her ebony skin defying the wind, her chin jutting proudly.

“Don’t you feel the cold?”

“I feel it but choose not to bow to it.” She leaned forward, patting her mount. “Is it possible that the swamps and this place aren’t under Nareena’s spell but simply that she inherited a cursed land that has molded her?”

“Anything’s possible.” He thought her words through. “Probable. Why would you curse your land like this? But, surely someone’s thought about that before.”

“She’s not the most amenable. If she kept to her land, why the hell would you want to seek her out.”

Josh nodded. “Let sleeping dogs lie—I see that. Plus, the last Harmonic was an elf.”

“What difference does that make?”

“Cassandra spotted the mana manipulation. As far as I can gather, only a certain type of magic user and some fairies can sense that. A fairy will not travel through that swamp unless it desperately needs something.”

Lex tapped her finger against her lips. “What do we know—you’re fond of fact-finding, so let’s start there. Swamp, fertile land, windswept shale—” she pointed—“looks like fertile land again. Where is the spell producing these rings? From where would it originate?”

“The dead center of Sillia.”

“Exactly. Didn’t you fight off some evil sorcerer that had been dead for an age?”

“One of the ancients, yes.”

“Then, is it possible that what’s affecting this land might be of a similar origin and buried in the province’s center?”

Josh grunted. “Doesn’t have to be buried.” He pondered it. “Good shout, though. I reckon we scout to the green area over there and then go back if we don’t see anything. Then we can post lookouts on the edge of this ring and know how long we’ve got if any of the elves come.”

They moved along the shale path, their horses treading carefully.

“No wonder they came with only the clothes on their backs. “These paths barely hold a horse, let alone a wagon,” Lex said.

“Cassandra will be able to sort it out. We only need to find out what’s on the other side.”

“Surely they can’t have always been like this?” The assassin dismounted, leading her mount, bending occasionally and pressing her palm to the loose rock. “Something is happening. I can feel the land vibrating.”

“I’m getting no notifications anything’s in range.”

She stared at him. “What if it’s not in range yet?” She stood, scanning the land. “I’ve heard tales of these worms. They burrow—like all worms, but when they hear the ground vibrating enough to tell them a decent meal is on its way, they attack.”

“You’ve heard of them. I had to fight them. Three of the vicious buggers were my welcoming party.”

She traced a line with her finger. “See how those furrows are random—like dry riverbeds, but also how they don’t match?”

“Kinda,” Josh said.

“Well, what if the trail we’re on was the true track—the real evidence the worms are here? What if a worm passing under us formed this raised trail?”

“Then the worm would have to be twenty feet long and ten wide.”

Lex pointed. “What about fifty feet long?”

“What the fuck?” Josh said as an exploding, horizontal avalanche of splintering shale raced toward them. “It’s like a stream train coming toward us. Turn the horses around!”

“No time—the path’s too narrow, and they’re already spooked.”

“Then we need to outrun it.” Josh leaped on his mount.

Lex beat him to it, mounting hers and galloping off, one eye on the road ahead, the other constantly turning behind them. “Come on!”

Josh kicked his horse into gear, his perception going haywire. He urged the horse forward, the mass of tossed stone getting closer and closer.

“We’ve got no chance,” he screamed.

Lex pulled up, dismounting and slapping her horse. “Git! Git! If you know what’s good for you.”

Josh copied her, jumping down and drawing his giant sword. “You know we look like toys compared to that.”

“At least your sword looks like it could scratch it.” She held out Thadius’. “Mine? Not so much.”

“Got any idea?” Josh braced, his vision pulsing redder and redder.

“Yeah, suddenly become the most powerful sorceress in the land.”

He nodded. “Yup. Having Cassandra here would certainly help.”

The noise rose as the thunderous torrent of exploding rock neared. Josh braced, standing beside Lex.

“It’s been a pleasure,” Lex screamed.

“A brief one,” Josh replied, still grinning despite the mayhem confronting them.

Then, it stopped. Silence reigned. Josh braced. Lex touched the ground. “Where did it go?” The terror in her eyes told Josh she knew—that she understood when the words left her lips.

“Run!” Josh cried as his perception turned to blinking crimson.

He dove from the trail, rolling down the shale bank as the ground he’d been standing on erupted. A huge open maw thrust upward, rock chunks spilling from it, fangs glistening with spit. The explosion tossed Josh aside like an insignificant bug. He lost his grip on his sword, the magnificent weapon falling, glinting in the dusty sunlight. Even as he fell, he scrambled for it, flailing in the air until he thumped to the shale, his sword clattering to the rock a hundred feet away.

Jumping up, he raced toward his weapon. The worm’s hideous, scarred and scaled body rose from the ground like a monstrous geezer. Diving for his sword, he spun around, ready to face it but knowing no ring would save him this time.

“Come on then you fucker!” he screamed. “We’ve both grown up a bit since our last meeting!”

He charged for the worm, bringing his sword back and priming his strike, the beast’s true size becoming quickly apparent. The monster curled its head down, two heavily lidded milky eyes searching Josh out. It struck, its head descending far too quickly. Josh picked up the pace, diving for its body, attempting to outrun its plunging maw.

The worm snuffed the sun out as it crashed down. Josh swiped the sword along its fangs, the beast’s ghastly darkness enveloping him. Its teeth shattered, the blade rending gum and mouth in two as the worm tried to gobble him up. Josh stood his ground, swiping at the creature’s tongue, slicing chunks of flesh as saliva swamped him. The worm slammed its maw shut, trapping Josh within. A fang cut through his leg, muscle hanging uselessly from his bone. He screamed, but the pain lancing through him only served to increase his rage.

He stabbed upward, tearing a rent along the roof of the worm’s mouth. He cleaved it again even as the tongue attempted to swallow him. His vision blinked between red and eerie green. Pain ravaged him. The worm opened its maw again, tossing its head backward as it attempted to swallow him. Josh grabbed a fang, its razor-sharp edge slicing his hand where even the sharpest blade failed. He clung on, suspended, still swiping his great sword around, splitting teeth, severing gums and chopping at its tongue.

The worm shook its head, trying desperately to dislodge Josh. He waited, timing his release instinctively. As the worm thrashed, he let go, flying away. He controlled his fall, landing on his feet and immediately jumping back. He stroked the mighty sword against the worm’s body, opening a valley of white flesh. White blood gushed out, but Josh took the dousing. His rage ruled him as he dismissed the pain in his leg and hacked at the beast for all he was worth.

Lex screamed. He barely registered her panic, but nothing could stop him from seeing her danger in his mind. She was in his party, which meant the ring alerted him to her peril. With one final strike, Josh sprang back, seeking her out. She stood upon the shale ridge, the worm approaching her warily, its face a mess of cuts and tears.

He nearly grinned. He’d hurt the fucking thing, but not quite enough. He ran as fast as he could, leaping, slicing his sword into the creature’s flaking skin. He used the blade’s grip to jump higher, tearing it free with his upward momentum and powering his fist into the creature to latch on. He swung his legs around the worm, momentarily riding it. Another of Lex’s screams galvanized him into action. He took a chance, climbing to his feet and running the length of the worm’s back as it reared to strike the assassin.

Below, Lex held up Thadius’ sword. It looked no bigger than a toothpick, but fire blazed in her eyes. Josh had mistook her screams for shouts of fear when they were powerful defiance. She lunged, plunging her feeble sword into the creature’s flesh. Josh struck simultaneously, bringing his blade down, slicing the worm’s eye in two and shattering its skull. He bellowed as he powered his sword on, biting into the worm’s tiny brain.

It was enough. The monster flipped its head back, sending Josh flying into the air, sword flailing, legs pumping. Lex stabbed it again and again, doing her damndest to kill it with the two-foot-long weapon. Josh crashed to the ground, air bursting from his lungs as he bent double over a sharp rock, his spine snapping in two.

The worm swayed one way, nearly toppling, but even in the throes of death, it struggled to right itself, attempting to curl its broken head down and plunge into the shale to find sanctuary. It swayed back like a drunk trying to cross a busy street, leaning one way and then the other until it finally crashed to the ground, crushing Josh’s legs and pulling his spine further apart.

“For fuck’s sake,” Josh said, grinding his teeth. “How’s my luck?”

He exhaled, waiting for unconsciousness to come.

“Lex!” he cried. “Lex! Are you okay?”

Lex’s face appeared, tears streaming down her cheeks. Josh dropped his sword, reaching up and cupping her cheek.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s just a scratch.”

She tried to stifle a laugh, a sob coming instead. “I’m not sure even Vella could get you out of this. Oh, my darling, how cruel is this world? I finally find love, only to have it cruelly ripped from me!”

“No,” he said. “You don’t understand—”

“Shush,” she said. “It’s you that doesn’t understand. You don’t know what you did for me. You restored me, Josh. I would give my life to swap places with you.”

“But—”

“No! Don’t! Don’t talk. Let me.” She kissed him. “Let me tell you how wonderful you are. Let me fill your mind with my love for you, what I’d do for you—how I will search the whole realm to find you again.”

“If you really think it will help,” he said as green writing swamped his mind.

“You are the most wonderful human being ever to have lived. You are the kindest, most gracious, beautiful man I have ever…”

Josh struggled to remain conscious, but his body really needed to repair. He fought it as long as he could as Lex rained compliments down on him. He was particularly enjoying the one about his magnificent cock but finally succumbed before she finished her praise.

Catastrophic damage received

Host in need of phased rebuilding

Phases needed 3

Phases completed 0/3

Initiating phase 1

Basic attributes deemed inadequate

Basic senses deemed adequate

Working on solutions to enhance existing attributes

Strength – extremely poor

Speed and agility – extremely poor

Durability – extremely poor

Combat instinct – woeful

Arcane resistance – adequate

Poison resistance – adequate

Assessing requirements to protect the host

Upgrading strength

Strength +2

Upgrading speed and agility

Speed and agility +2

Upgrading Durability

Durability +2

Upgrading combat instinct

Combat instinct +3

New Score =

Strength = 41

Speed and Agility = 32

Durability = 36

Combat instinct = 28

Arcane resistance = 35

Poison resistance = 30

Average = 33.67

Senses

Advanced intuitive hazard detection activated

Sub branches

Advanced physical threat detection – red

Advanced arcane threat detection – mauve

Advanced poison threat detection - blue

Rank = Novice Enforcer

Current Tier = Silver Vanguard

Title = Silver Vanguard of the Novice Enforcer

He let the woman’s soft words flow over him, drifting from one dream to another. Each dream was similar. It was raining, just spitting, water running down his cheeks.

Initiating phase 2

His face warmed, the sun upon him. The rain stopped. He dreamt of a kiss, so long and passionate, yet free of sexual intent, merely filled with love, and in that moment, it was perfect love, pure and untainted. Somewhere in the void of his subconscious, he found contentedness, knowing he’d found that love not once but many times over. He counted the times. Arabella was his first, and Cassandra was his second. Elowen made it three, but only because he’d met her a little before Vella. He suspected he’d fallen in love with Vella first, but it mattered not. What was a blink of an eye anyway? Likewise, Melody should have come next, but his love for Lex preceded his dislike of Melody fading. However, a love that overcame such strong dislike was true love indeed. Yes, he’d found utopian love five times. How lucky was he?

Initiating phase 3

Her words drifted in and out. The report told him his combat instinct had been terrible during the fight, but how the hell could it be any different? He’d had no chance against a beast so giant. Or had he? Would he have been better off forgetting his enormous blade and using his knives? Could he have used them to scale the beast, climb to its head and stab its eyes out? Now he thought of it, it would have been much easier. Then, his biggest mistake clouded his mind, and he wanted to kick himself. He wanted to grab hold of his neck and ring it. He hadn’t used his armor. The thing he’d craved—the thing he’d endured so much pain to acquire, he’d forgotten to equip in the haste of the worm’s attack. His panic had nearly undone him, and he wondered whether all the preparation they’d undertaken for their latest monster takedowns had wrestled away his instinctive reactions to instant danger.

He’d wished he’d thought of it all before he’d attacked the creature, but then, he’d only increased his Combat Instinct by nine through failing.

But it would have been easier to use the knives while coated in the nearly indestructible armor.

Still, he’d have the knowledge next time, wouldn’t he? After all, his stats had benefited from his incompetence.

Strength = 44

Speed and Agility = 34

Durability = 36

Combat instinct = 34

Arcane resistance = 35

Poison resistance = 30

Average = 35.16

Josh floated back to reality. While he’d never choose to be ruined by a giant worm, it certainly had its benefits. Plus, he was a cup-half-full kind of guy, and all the punishment he’d taken to raise him to Silver Vanguard had probably just saved his life. He also thought his analysis of the fight was pretty damn accurate, and for the first time could see the need for further improvements to his combat instinct. While Lex continued to tell him how much she loved him, he noted his poison resistance was his weakest stat, with arcane resistance still under forty. While he wanted to kick himself for not keeping up with their advancement, he had to admit he’d been a bit busy.

But, first, he had a real problem. Lex had poured her heart out to him, and he’d let her. While he hadn’t intended to stop her, as it had felt really good hearing how fantastic he was, it did present a slight issue as he was fully healed and ready to hunt down their horses. He elected for shock.

Josh opened his eyes, grinned, unfolded himself from the rock and said, “Have you seen the horses?”

Lex screamed, covering her mouth with her hand.

“What?” he asked.

She pointed, still covering her mouth and saying you a lot. She eventually managed you were before finally completing the sentence. “You were dead!”

“Ah, well, no. I was almost dead, but I did say that I’m particularly hard to kill. The ring’s been busy…” Josh broke off. “It’s night.”

“Yes, it’s night. You were dead.”

“But if it’s night, why didn’t you go back to Sinsibar?”

“I couldn’t leave you!”

“But I was dead—well, as far as you knew.”

“Because I fucking love you, that’s why.”

He grinned.

She slapped her head.

“You heard it, didn’t you? You heard it all.”

She stood.

“You heard it all, and you didn’t say a thing! You let me ramble on telling you about your magnificent— Oh no!” She held her head in her hands.

“I didn’t hear it all.”

She looked up slowly, a mix of relief and rage matching her snarling smile. “I could kill you.”

He shrugged. “You probably couldn’t.”

Then, her growing rage vanished. “You’re alive!” She exhaled. “Oh, thank every God. We need to get you back—have Vella check over you. We can’t stay here in the dark. What if another worm comes along?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. I know how to kill them now. So—forward or back? We came to scout the next belt—the green one.” He stood, offering her his hand.

“No point in going back, but your clothes are ruined.”

“Not for the first time.”

Lex grabbed his hand, holding it tightly as they climbed back onto the path. “What’s it like enduring so much pain and coming back?”

“It’s odd. The pain is only temporary. I think I go into shock, and the bots take over. The first thing they do is make me mellow. They take the pain away and then begin fixing me. I dream while it makes me better.”

“What did you dream of?”

“Different things. But it was always raining.”

She punched him.

“Hey! What was that for.”

Then it dawned on him, and he held her tight. She buried her head in his shoulder and sobbed.

“I shouldn’t have let you carry on talking,” he said as they walked the moonlit trail. “But it kept me going, and I felt safe. When I’m injured, I’m defenseless. You looked after me.”

“I’d look after you forever.”

He pulled her closer. “When I was in this place—not conscious nor dreaming, and when I thought I was dying—I thought about how lucky I’d been to fall in love and be in love with not one but five women. I love you, Lex. Everything you said to me goes right back to you.”

“Not everything.” She shoved him. “I have not got a magnificent cock.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

'"I'M BEGINNING to think we aren't getting those horses back," Josh said as they approached the end of the slate trail.

"I'm beginning to wish we'd brought some food. I'm starving," Lex added.

The sunrise blinked in and out; the horizon blanketed with dark storm clouds. Heavy with the threat of rain, a cold breeze blew in from the east. Josh's shredded clothes barely protected him from the elements. He'd tried equipping his scale armor, but while it proved a good barrier against the wind, it held the cold and chilled his bones.

"At least we got some sleep. Do you think that was a cave or a wormhole?" He asked the question but was sure the answer was a wormhole.

"I thought we agreed on a cave so we could sleep."

He grunted. "You're right. Definitely cave. All caves have teeth marks covering their walls, after all."

"What say we scout this area and then run back to Sinsibar without stopping?" Lex suggested.

"Training, of course," Josh said. “For the ring advancements,” he added in case she didn’t get it.

"Definitely training. The mighty Josh Underwood doesn't run from any beast." She grinned and bumped his shoulder.

"Too right," he said. "But we do tactically withdraw from the odd fight while we reassess and regroup," he pointed out.

"Yes, we do that," Lex agreed.

Murky daylight illuminated the fringes of the shale border. Broad green leaves encroached on the barren rock, contrasting as starkly as when they'd stumbled on the shale ring from the lush forests surrounding Sinsibar. He reached out, letting the waxen vegetation slip through his hand, searching for a way forward and spotting one as his eyes adjusted to new vibrancy.

"It looks like a jungle."

"How? How the hell does this place work? None of it makes sense—not Nareena, her eunuchs or these rings. None of it," Lex said.

"More than inclined to agree. How can you have a jungle next to a barren shale bank, and worse, how come Candour or the others never mentioned the strange setup here? No wonder she felt isolated. Was she part of Mythelore but not really a part of it at all?”

“What are you thinking?”

“Perhaps we need to get closer to her—try and understand her.” He fingered the weird necklace she’d given him, grinding his teeth in frustration. Something was up. He couldn’t work out how to find out what it was. “What do you think about this?”

“That?” she cupped it on her palm. “It feels wrong—not like she’s spying on us, but like it is spying on all of us.”

“I detected some poison earlier—when I first put it on and wondered if she wasn’t trying to poison me slowly. She couldn’t know about my resistance, so it wasn’t going to work. But now I wonder whether it's amber like I thought it was or whether the eye is encased in the snake’s venom.”

“Assuming it’s a snake’s eye,” Lex pointed out.

“Yeah, assuming that.”

“Purpose?” Lex asked.

“Not a clue.”

He moved forward, spying a path, then the tell-tale signs that it was a road. Scarred leaves and broken stems all attested to the recent passing of people and horses. He pushed the heavy vegetation back to reveal a deep furrow in the soil. “This used to be a road,” he said. “How long ago is hard to say, but the jungle is creeping back over it.” He stopped and then narrowed his eyes as he tried to rinse some sense out of the scene. “If her land was going to wrack and ruin, why didn’t she say?”

“Too proud?” Lex suggested. “It’s hot—that much I know. It’s damn hot and humid in here. We’d best get moving while the sun’s rising. Who knows how hot it will be once it’s noon.”

“I’m more worried about those storm clouds. Have you ever heard of a rainforest?” He looked at the sky. “This might not be a jungle—it might be one of them.”

“Never heard of one, but by the sound of it, all the more reason to get a move on.”

“Agreed.”

He left his sword strapped to his back and pulled his boot knives out. “Too narrow for the sword,” he said. “One thing that last battle taught me—there’s a time and a place for every weapon, and with my increased agility, I should be using my knives more.”

“You need some pointers?” she asked. “My favored weapon.”

“Then how come you haven’t got one?”

She blushed. “I lost them all in that fight. Still haven’t got a coin to my name, so I can’t replace them. Why do you think I’m fighting with Thadius’ sword.”

Josh stopped in his tracks. “Why didn’t you say? Elowen deals with the money. If you need any, ask.”

She looked away. “Still the new girl.” Then she smiled and looked at him. “I’ve only contributed to the leviathan takedown. I didn’t think we’d been paid for that yet.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Do I have to pay myself now I’m King? If so, where do I get the money from?” He scratched his head. “Taxes, I know it's taxes, but who sets them?”

“I think you might need to appoint a treasurer,” she told him. “Perhaps Thadius would be up for the job.”

“Perhaps—we’ll sort when I’m back.”

He pushed a branch away. An unnatural shape hid in the shadows, too straight for the jungle—rectangular, box-like.

“What the fuck? Is that—” He peered closer. “Pass me your sword.”

“Let me.” She stepped in front of him, hacking at the foliage to reveal a carriage.

“Is that Nareena’s wagon?”

“I guess,” Lex backed out.

“Probably couldn’t force it down the trail. Surely, it couldn’t have grown that much in a week?”

“I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again—there’s something weird going on.” Lex took back her sword. “The sooner we get back with the others, the better.”

“I’m all in with that.”

“Do you see that?” Lex asked.

Josh squinted. “What?”

“That orange spot up there.”

“A flower?”

“Not a flower. Is it cloth?”

They picked up their pace, jogging along the trail until they reached a piece of orange cloth snagged on a thorn. “Looks like the same color her eunuchs wore,” Lex said. “There’s another bit up there.”

“And an even bigger bit there,” Josh said, running toward a bend in the trail. He skidded to a halt, crouching, knives at the ready. “Fuck!”

“What is it?” Lex asked.

“Carnage.”

He scanned the jungle’s borders, trying to take in the horror that confronted him. Bodies lay everywhere—eunuchs from Nareena’s court, elves dressed in customary green and tan, dwarves, their beards crusted with dried, black blood. Josh stood, picking his way through to the center of the chaos. A circle of orange surrounded a speck of black. He knew in his heart of hearts what it meant, but it drew him forward like a moth to a flame.

“Watch out for traps,” Lex said.

“There are none here. This was savagery, nothing else.”

Hatchets, axes and pitchforks lay everywhere. The eunuchs had tried to beat back the crazed Alianthians with spears and swords and, by the look of it, put up quite a good defense. Piles of elves, dwarves and pixies surrounded the eunuch ring, but the weight of numbers had won.

Josh knelt by the corpse in the middle, Nareena’s dead eyes staring at him, black, unmoving. A spear pinned her to the trail, her ribs crushed, and her body twisted unnaturally. He closed her eyes, looking up as Lex looked down. “Why do I feel like I’ve let her down?” he asked.

“Because you let her go?” Lex shrugged. “She was the Lady of Sillia. It was her choice to rush to her home without scouting the way. It’s your job to discover what happened.”

“Now? With her lying dead? Before we’ve even buried them?”

“Didn’t you want information? You have it here. We must use it before it’s disturbed too much.” Lex scanned the length of the battlefield. “Why were there no victors?”

“What makes you say that?” Josh asked.

“She’s still wearing all her jewelry. If the Alianthians had won, surely they’d have looted the corpses?”

Josh stepped away from Nareena, crouching by an elf’s corpse. He pulled his head around, his jaw dropping.

“Lex, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

She gasped and stepped away, crouching by another elf. “Their eyes are black!”

“Has yours got anything on its neck?”

“This one’s got a tattoo.”

“What of?”

“A spider. Nasty looking thing.”

“So’s mine,” Josh said.

“And this dwarf. He’s got one too.”

Josh crouched, looking along the trail. “Something is going on, and whatever it is, it’s a war but not like anything I’ve ever seen.”

“Leave it to me,” Cassandra said. “I’ll incinerate all the corpses.”

“Just hold on a moment,” Elowen said. “I want to sketch the tattoo and double check all of them are the same.”

“What are you thinking?” Josh asked.

“I’m thinking that if it’s a tattoo, there would be subtle differences between the marks. If there isn’t, then it’s some kind of magical mark or brand.”

Josh sat on the wagon’s bench with Lex. Despite Vella’s best attempts to renew their vigor, his legs ached, and his brain needed some downtime. “That was one long walk just to turn around and travel back.”

Lex sighed, opening her eyes briefly. “Thank all the gods Cassandra could make the shale road stable.”

Cassandra stood. “Why don’t you two take a bath and go to bed? We’ll record it all and clear it up. Harrogate, Melody, Vella and Arabella can all help keep watch.”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” Lex said.

She pulled Josh up. “Come on, even you must know when you’re beaten.”

“I know I’m beat, but I really need to understand this. What the fuck happened here that two sides clashed. One, the Alianthians outnumbered the Sillians four to one, yet somehow those Eunuchs managed to kill them all? It’s too odd—way too convenient, and I don’t like it.”

“Spider is the key,” Vella said, hopping on the wagon. “Spider queen lives underground in the Hangsane.”

“You’ve seen this mark before?”

“Seen it—on goblins and orcs, not on elves. Elves normally too quick to get trapped by Zendrod.” She sat next to Josh.

“Who the heck is Zendrod?”

“Spider queen, that’s who.” Vella jumped onto the wagon roof, scuttling around on all fours. “They say she turns her victims into food or servants. Once servant, you help bring her stuff.”

“But could she control hundreds of elves and dwarves?” Elowen asked.

“Nope. Few goblins, is all. Scary nighttime story is Zendrod. All elves fear her, but she can’t catch us.”

“She caught a few,” Josh muttered. “What do we think? Elowen?”

“I have some books—quite a few, actually—some are from Alianthia. You two sleep. Let Cassandra take care of things, and I’ll see what I can find out.”

“I’ll help you,” Josh said.

“I’ll be quick. You have other problems.”

“Like?”

“Like one of your provinces has no ruler, and you’ve only been on the throne a few moments. That’s pretty careless.”

“What’s pretty careless is that a threat like this could lurk this close to civilization, and folks just read about it. The spider, Vella, I take it that it uses venom to take control of its slaves?”

“Venom to put them into trance, yes.”

“Then I need to up my poison resistance as soon as possible.” He stretched. “No time like the present. Vella, anything you can gather?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s get poisoning me.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?”

Vella bit her bottom lip, then jumped off the wagon and vanished into the jungle.

Josh took her hand. “What’s going on is we are going to poison me over and over until my resistance increases. That way, when I go after the spider, I can resist her toxic charms.”

Josh opened his eyes. Lex dabbed his forehead with a wet towel. “Enough?” she said.

“Yeah, that last one got me where I need to be.”

He looked up his stats.

Strength = 44

Speed and Agility = 34

Durability = 36

Combat instinct = 34

Arcane resistance = 35

Poison resistance = 40

Average = 36.83

“Yeah, it’s at forty. I’m not sure Vella’s got any more vigor in her. We can stop. I’m exhausted—my mind’s mashed, and I feel sick as a pig. Any more won’t help my resistance. It’ll just advance me toward my next evolution.”

“Then you can sleep,” Lex said.

“Yes. Get the others in. I’ll set my sphere up, and we can all get some rest. But first, Elowen, what have you discovered about this beast?”

“You aren’t going to believe it.”

“Try me,” he said.

Elowen took out her notes and set them on the table. “I read and reread it all—even double-checked it.”

Cassandra, Arabella, Harrogate and Melody came in. Vella shifted along the bed, lying by Josh’s side. “What have we got?” Cassandra asked.

“I was just waiting for you all. So—” She picked up her first piece of paper. “Zendrod is a minor goblin deity, but only to those goblins living so far under the land that they never see the light of day. She—Zendrod—is a type of rock spider, speckled and hard to see, nearly impossible in the dark apart from when it makes its legs glow, but I’ll get back to that. The spiders are around the size of a gold coin.”

Cassandra laughed. “Then what, my darling, are we worried about?”

“I’ll get to it. Goblins catch the spiders, crush them to a paste and make a drink called Zim-Zim, which roughly translates to ‘Yes, Yes.’ The drug takes them to some strange places. There are elven texts that detail these hallucinations, and one of them details the first sighting of a gigantic rock spider, which they named Zendrod.”

“So our spider goddess is no more than a drug-fuelled dream?” Josh asked.

“Except,” Cassandra said, with a dramatic pause. “More than one goblin had the same vision. Hundreds did, and some who professed to see her were never seen again. But, I hear you ask, what the heck has all this to do with the elves? Let me tell you. Elves and goblins trade. They trade in precious metals, coal, certain rocks, a luminous fungus and Zim-Zim.”

“Elves like getting drunk. I don’t,” Vella said.

“Except it’s not drunk. It’s hallucinating. What’s curious is the elves taking it—who had never been down deep underground—started dreaming of Zendrod. It caused quite a stir, and soon enough, the elven elders tried to ban its consumption, so a black market grew. Zim-Zim then spread throughout Alianthia because, as we all know, to ban something is to grant it some kudos.”

Josh sat up. “So, the venom of a tiny spider started selling throughout the kingdom, effectively poisoning all the elves, dwarves and pixies?”

“Not venom—the whole body of the tiny spider,” Elowen pointed out. “It began to cause quite the problem a few years back—so much so that it prompted an elf named Yyladril to gather a party of Zim-Zim abstainers and venture deep into the underground. I’ve read his journal. He said the lower he went, the more and more he found goblins and elves in dream-like states. But that’s not the worst of it.”

“What is then?” Arabella asked.

“He describes goblins with eyes as black as pitch and spider brands on their necks. He details fighting his way through them, getting swarmed and attacked by tiny spiders. He details battling every inch of the way until he and his party came to Zendrod’s cavern. Yyladril fought the great spider, but only him and one of his party survived. He died soon after completing his journal, but only after he finished his tale with a dire warning.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Joke’s on you, Josh. Looks like you upped your poison for no reason. The great Zendrod is dead.”

“The story hasn’t ended yet,” Elowen said.

“Then perhaps you should do just that.”

“Yyladril states that as he killed Zendrod, the spider issued a dire warning. She told him she was one of four and that Billivar Ghrorst, her lover and the head of their little harem, would send his three other wives forth and avenge her death and that he would come and finish off all in the inhabited lands.”

“Billivar Ghorst?” Cassandra scoffed. “Sounds like a drunk dwarf.”

“It is goblin. Yyladril theorized that the Zim-Zim was a flux that joined the drinker to the hive. He theorized that it was a two-way street and that what they knew, Zendrod knew. Thus, the spider learned goblin.”

“So what does it mean?” Josh asked Elowen.

“Billivar means Death’s Black Wings.”

“And Ghorst?”

“The center of all,” Elowen said.

“Ravenheart,” Josh whispered.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“I CANNOT BELIEVE that is all there is to this,” Josh said.

Cassandra draped her arm across his chest. “Haven’t you slept at all?”

“I slept, but I kept waking. I can’t work it out.”

“Can’t work what out,” Lex said, rubbing her eyes as she woke.

“How it all fits together. How come Sillia is divided into rings? That’s one thing. What causes that?”

Elowen sat up. “I’ve been thinking about that too. Everything I read about—the whole Zendrod-goblin-elf thing was restricted to this place—the East. Goblins don’t stray too far west. Alianthia tapers to an end at Eldorwyn, where Sendor’s province butts up against their slopes. There was no Zim-Zim in Endor, for instance. Yet it is rife, according to the books, among the goblins and some elves. How can something be so prevalent in one region and not spread throughout another?”

“Because it has no effect beyond Ravenheart’s web,” Arabella said. “Think about it. A spider’s web is its kingdom. It rules a specific place. What if the spiders can only influence their slaves to a certain point?”

“So,” Josh said, “we place Ravenheart in the Hangsane. He is the center of his wives’ webs—of which we are told there are three left. One wife died—we can assume that wife, Zendrod, lived where Goblins proliferate. To avenge her death, the other wives must have shifted their webs—migrated. Does that make sense?”

Elowen reached for the bedside table and picked up a pen and paper. “And the Alianthians died because they reached the extent of the web’s influence.”

“Exactly,” Josh said. “The question is—how much changed in the few days Nareena was away? Or rather, what changed that allowed the Alianthian zombies to invade?”

“The charm,” Cassandra said. “I said magic held these rings in place. How often did Nareena leave her province? I’ll bet rarely. What if she was the center of that enchantment? What if her leaving opened the floodgates.”

“I’ve seen tattoo before,” Vella said. “I remember now. Seen it on traders and peddlers. Seen it on workers who move through Alianthia. Seen it in Endover and in my village. Seen it. I remember.”

“Those elves didn’t have black eyes?” Arabella asked.

“No. Didn’t.”

“Then why have these gone mad all of a sudden?” Josh asked.

“The spell has been activated,” Cassandra said. “Something that has lain dormant since Zendrod’s demise has been switched on.” She turned to Josh. “Every elf, dwarf or pixie—even every human if Zim-Zim spread that far—with a tattoo will have turned into a zombie, and we only have one hope.”

“What,” Josh asked.

“We must kill the three wives before their influence spreads farther into Mythelore.”

“Then we have to kill Ravenheat.”

Elowen jumped out of their bed, rummaging through her books until she pulled a map out.

“This is Yyladril’s map. Here is the Hangsane spine. In its center, he’s written Billivar Ghrorst. Behind—further south, is the name Korraken. To the West, we have Drenthall. The East and edging the sea is Pandoril, and the furthest North is Zendrod. Take out Zendrod, and my guess is Pandoril sweeps north and takes her place while Korraken replaces her and edges the coast. Drenthall stays where she is for now or moves north, which is what is flushing all the other monsters from the Hangsane.” She looked up. “What we have here is an invasion where the invading army already has a load of troops in place.”

“It’ll be a slaughter,” Lex said.

“It already is a slaughter,” Josh said.

“What are we going to do?” Arabella asked.

“You’re not going to like it,” Josh said.

“What?” Lex asked.

“We have to split up.”

“Split up? Why? No good ever comes of splitting up! Look what happened when you and Lex went scouting?” Melody said, slipping out of bed. “I’d best go and wake Dad.”

“Someone has to get word to the army. They need to travel South and defend Eldorwyn. They need to help the elves that aren’t infected.”

“What’s the other party going to do?” Cassandra asked.

“I must travel farther into Sillia and confront Pandoril or whichever one of the wives has moved north. I need to destroy the first nest.”

“Then I’m with you,” Cassandra said.

“Err, guys, are we sure it’s spiders?” Melody said, frozen in the doorway.

“It’s spiders, all right,” Elowen said.

“Are we absolutely positive it’s not giant birds ridden by fairies?” Melody asked.

“Arabus!” Cassandra cried. “Arabus has come!”

“If Arabus is a bloody great bird, then yeah, he’s here and brought some friends.” Melody ducked, and Lyra flew in, hovering momentarily before darting toward Josh and offering her cheek. “Morning, handsome. Room for one more?”

Josh kissed her. “Always room for you, Lyra. What’s going on?”

“Death, destruction, ruin and riot.” She floated down, standing on Josh’s lap.

“Everything went mad in Endover a couple of days ago. Elf fought elf, death, destruction and fire. I came back with Arabus—flames and smoke all around. He brought his family. The whole of the Hangsane border has gone mad. Dwarf fights dwarf. Elf fights pixie. What’s happening?”

“Pretty simple if you ask me,” Cassandra said. “A Harem Lord is seeking vengeance for the death of his wife. He means to end the world. Surely everyone in this wagon can understand that.”

“I can understand it,” Josh said. “Trust me, if anyone tried to kill all of you, then I’d not rest until I’d ended them and everyone who had a hand in it. But this is different. For a start, they’re spiders, and I hate spiders. They’re attacking innocent with innocents. They’re evil bugs, and they need exterminating.”

“And we’re the ones to do it,” Cassandra said.

“Elowen, write everything down—everything. Then, copy it out six times. No seven. One goes to Simmalion. One to Thadius. One each for the Lords and one for Lady Franks. Tell them all to head south. Attack any with black eyes—with symptoms of Zim-Zim poisoning. Tell them to rescue any that haven’t—they can check for the mark. Stress that I mean any—elf, goblin, dwarf or pixie. There’ll be no genocide. I’ll find out, and whoever has overstepped will pay the price.”

“I have to write that all seven times?” Elowen said.

“Just once,” Cassandra said. “I’ll deal with the rest.”

“Sign it by order of King Josh Underwood the First,” Arabella said. “It has a nice ring to it, and we might as well use it. We might not have a Kingdom tomorrow,”

“I need a seal—that’s what I need,” Josh said.

“We have a candle, and you have your ring,” Melody pointed out.

Cassandra leaned out of the wagon. “Arabus! You clever little bird, you.” She looked over her shoulder. “We have full airborne capability.”

Josh grinned. “The Flying Misfits! It has a ring to it!”

“One thing spiders can’t do,” Cassandra said. “Fly.”

Josh stepped outside, momentarily at a loss which great bird was Arabus. They were all colored similarly, their large piercing eyes staring straight through him, heads cocked and that regal, eagle-like ferociousness bubbling under their calm exteriors. The ugly rent in his side gave Arabus away. Feathers snapped in two. Their stumps yellowed and scabbed over with a wax-like substance. He approached the bird, reaching out to pat it—uncertain if he should. Arabus dipped his head, accepting Josh’s affection with a deep trill that rumbled through Josh.

“Hey they, boy. How have you been? You’ve come just in time!”

“And the clever little thing has brought his friends.” Cassandra paused. “Not friend, no. Family? Is that what you’ve been up to?” She wagged her finger. “You sly bird, you. Well, introduce me!” Cassandra threw her arms around the bird, kissing him on the beak. “Congratulations, Arabus! Congratulations!”

A slightly smaller bird shuffled forward, sticking close to Arabus.

“Is this the lucky young lady?” Cassandra asked, reaching forward. “May I?”

Arabus dipped his head then reared up, his wings extending and one falling over the female roc.

“Just a small pat then,” Cassandra said. “You lucky pair.” She covered her open mouth. “Are these? No! Have you been keeping a secret?” She grabbed his head. “Are these your children?”

Arabus cawed, his mate nuzzling her head against him.

Cassandra clapped. “Oh, what fun. Right, who goes on who?” She frowned. “Without putting you down, Josh, I’m probably more powerful at range than you.”

“That’s not a probably—that’s a certainty,” he admitted.

“Then I should go on… What should we call her? Clarice—yes I should go on Clarice and make sure their brood is protected. You shall take Arabus.”

“Me on Arabus too,” said Vella. “Josh, Arabus and Vella a team.”

“Good, good. So, that leaves Arabella, Melody, Elowen and Lex plus you, Harrogate.”

“What are we going to do with the wagons?” Harrogate asked. “I’d be happy to—No, I’d insist I stay firmly on the ground. If any of the Gods had wanted me to fly, they would have given me wings.”

“A typical old man thing to say,” Melody said. “But you’re right. We’re going to need the wagons. Airbourne can scout the way ahead. Cassandra can do her geomancy from above.” She vanished behind one of the wagons. “I reckon I could hook something up so we could put four horses on one wagon and drag the other.”

“Me can drive,” Vella said, her shoulders sagging. “Me can do it.”

“No,” Elowen said. “You have your healing. If we get in trouble, you need to be able to get where the trouble is. I’ll drive the third wagon. Of all of us, I have the least experience with weapons. I’ll take the middle wagon.”

“Me fly on birdie,” Vella said.

“So, are we settled?”

“We are,” Josh said. “We’ll get a better view of Sillia from the air—perhaps make head and tail of these rings—if they are rings.”

Elowen put her hand up. “I’ve been thinking along those lines too. We assumed they were rings because Cassandra felt magic. We need to wait and see. Rings makes for a good explanation, but we don’t have all the facts.”

“Breakfast and roll out?” Josh suggested.

“My vote is we get away from this place as fast as possible,” Arabella said. “Too much death in the air. I can still smell all those burning corpses.”

“Everyone?” Josh asked.

They all nodded. “Which just leaves you, Lyra. We’ll not want to leave sight of the wagons, but could you fly ahead and see what’s in store for us?”

“For a kiss,” she said. “Oh, and as we’re homeless again, we will need to nest in the wagons. I’m in yours.” She offered her cheek, received her kiss and flew away.

“To your wagons or birds, then,” Josh said as he mounted Arabus and took to the air.

He felt comfortable straightaway but guessed it was his memory aided by the ring doing it. They were soon high above the jungle, and the shale ring they’d traveled through became apparent. Elowen was right; it didn’t so much curve as form a jagged border. It threaded between the woodland and the jungle like a mighty rock river—a scar on an otherwise verdant land that tapered toward Alianthia in the distance. But the edges—the change in terrain—were unnatural. As he rose higher, the swamplands became clear as a dark blot.

Disregarding the outer edges, he turned his eye to the center of Sillia. The jungle stretched away, parted only by a large river headed east toward the sea. In the far distance, a white city resolved. It rose above the deep green of the jungle like a towering monolith. A pang, a strange yearning, drew Josh to it. It was like the city was part of him, and he was a part of it, but that made no sense as he’d never ventured to Sillia before. Then, as a whisper in the wind, he heard a voice.

Gaze upon Ginstrata, traveler. You are my chosen. To grow, a familiar skin might be discarded.

Josh reached for his necklace, and sadness swamped him momentarily, quickly replaced by the euphoria of rebirth. He let his gaze settle on the distant city as the seedling of a vision came to him. He saw her, not the spider he expected, not Pandoril, but Nareena reborn, her spirit pulsing from the city.

Cassandra flew beside him, her staff in hand, the Jewel shining brightly. She pointed to the wagons as they trundled along the jungle trail, banked, and flew low, tearing along their route, hunting signs of danger. She was magnificent—a complete contrast to the witch who’d once sashayed into his life full of attitude and sass.

Josh urged Arabus forward, wanting to get closer to the distant city. He needed to make sense of his feelings—to understand what was going on and digest the whispering wind. He reached for his necklace again, the faint, blue tinge warning him that some form of poison had come from it. But he wanted the toxin—he needed it. Wasn’t it how he would progress? Wasn’t it good for him? He wiped the sweat from his brow as confusion replaced clarity, and tiredness overcame him. Then an addict’s thirst ripped through him as he fought the urge to fly straight for Ginstrata. The city’s white walls called to him. They taunted him with their welcome.

Chapter Twenty-Four

ITS WHITE WALLS towered above the jungle, which turned into little more than a lush and verdant skirt compared to the mass of stone that was Sillia’s capital city. Arabus circled. Below, the roads and alleyways, paths and parks were a confusion of order and bloodstains. There was order because there were no corpses in sight. To all intents and purposes, the city was free of carnage and simply devoid of life. But black stains blotted its gravel roads, and dark smears stained its walls. There had been slaughter, and it had been comprehensive. The city was empty.

“Fuck me,” Josh muttered, sweat dripping from him as he closed on his goal.

He hadn’t been right the whole of the previous day. Once seen, Ginstrata had teased him with its presence. Like a drink just out of reach of an alcoholic, he yearned for the place. It filled his dreams and became a beacon of light during his nightmares. His mouth had dried, and his hands shook. Cassandra had urged him to take the necklace off, sure some form of sickness emanated from it, but he had snatched it away from her grasp, precious of it like a child would be of a favorite toy.

“We must see how it plays out!” he’d said and received concerned looks back.

None of his girls, nor Harrogate, trusted the bauble, and they trusted Nareena’s intent much less.

“Dead is dead,” said Arabella. “It’s all in the mind.” But the shiver rippling her spine had betrayed her lack of conviction.

“Not necessarily,” Cassandra had replied. “Look how long Maechellion slept.”

“But we burned Nareena’s body!” Elowen protested.

Cassandra scoffed. “Think and think hard. Do you imagine Maechellion’s flesh lasted all that time? The spirit and the body are two separate things,” Cassandra countered. “Do not confuse them. We burned the husk that held her, but she wasn’t happy with that husk. Perhaps she has become more?”

“We must see how it plays out,” Josh had insisted.

But as he urged Arabus down, he became nervous. He grasped the necklace, bringing it to his eye and challenged it to alter his vision to blue. But nothing happened, so he deduced it couldn’t be malign. Perhaps it was a mere trinket—a gift from a Lady to a King?

Josh: Are you sure this isn’t poisoning me? I’m not feeling right.”

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: Monitoring indicates it is safe. Mental state is within standard parameters.

Arabus set him down in the park, and he stumbled as he dismounted, going down on one knee and feeling Ginstrata’s soil for the first time. Power pulsed in him—the same power that drew him to the city. It was all around—in the soil, in the buildings—it was the city.

He regarded the park, noticing a dozen or more statues depicting the same snake. She sat coiled upon columns, neck raised and flared, serpentine head leveled and forked tongue extended. Each building had her likeness carved into its walls, and parades of statues lined the roars. Doors were open maws, dropping fangs framing their entrances, and towers coiled up to the heavens. It was called Ginstrata but might as well have been named The City of Snakes.

A brush of wind cooled his sweat as Clarice landed and Cassandra dismounted. She breezed over to Josh, sniffing the air. “Snakes everywhere, much as I would have expected. Where’s the necklace dragging you?”

“It’s not the damn necklace,” he said.

She grabbed and dragged him to his feet, squaring up to him. “It is the necklace.”

“How? My ring would have detected it!”

She pouted. “Darling, even you don’t believe you have a sudden hankering for this place.” She paused, bringing her fingers to her lips. “Or do you? Are you that far gone?”

“There’s nothing wrong with me!” He raged.

She grabbed him by the arm and steered him from the park toward a large, snake-lined street. “Let’s say that,” she said. “But consider this also. Your poison resistance is second to none. The ring must be applauded. But what do we know about the drink called Zim-Zim? What do the texts tell us? They tell us that it poisons the drinker slowly over a period of time.” She cupped the necklace. “What if its poison is so feeble it can’t affect you—it’s not even worth flashing in your mind? But what if it gathers over time and sits in your mind like an unwelcome guest? What then, my King?”

“I’ve told you once, and I’ll tell you again. There’s nothing wrong with me!”

They walked up the main street toward a vast building decked in thousands of serpents—regimental gargoyle lines, vast nagas and serpentine pillars. “If you say so, My King. Shall we turn around and wait for the others?”

“No! We go in now!”

“A little desperate, aren’t you?” She pulled him forward as he staggered. “Let’s do it. I could rip the thing off you and destroy it, but I’m in the mood to see what the bitch had in store for you.”

“Aren’t you listening to me?” he shouted. “I’m fine—I’m absolutely fine.”

“Then let’s go and see her and see what she wants!”

“See who? Have you lost the plot?”

Cassandra laughed. “Let’s say that, eh? Let’s say it’s me that’s lost the plot.”

They came to the vast building, pausing at the upward steps. Its enormous, iron-braced doors hung ajar, yellow light filling the gap. Josh took a breath, doubt riddling him as his confidence fled. He doubted his worthiness but understood she wanted him.

“Do you need a hand up?” Cassandra asked.

“I’ll be fine,” he growled, pushing her away.

“We’ll see,” she muttered, climbing up brusquely as he stumbled and clawed at the steps.

“I can take it from here,” he spat.

“No, I think I’ll come with you, and you cannot stop me. There is nothing in this mausoleum that scares me.”

“Suit yourself,” he said and shuffled off into the flickering, yellow light.

An empty hall greeted them, paved with giant flags the size of a man and the width of a horse. Each footstep echoed, the ceiling distant, lofted, plastered and painted with coiling serpents, their fangs leafed with gold. More pillars held more serpent, and a single large door punctured a plain, grey wall at the end of the hall.

“Staggeringly under-impressive, if that’s possible,” Cassandra said, her boot steps echoing with his and the click of her staff marking time as they closed on the door. “It’s hot in there,” Cassandra said. “So expect to meet what you hope to and enjoy it while it lasts.”

“While it lasts,” he growled.

“Until I kill it and take my husband back. It’s the only conclusion to this sorry little episode.”

“You’ll do as I say and not kill anything. You are my wife!”

“Ordinarily,” she said, “I’d be happy to obey you. Especially when we’re, well, you know. I like a bit of dominance then, and if I’m a naughty witch, then you can always punish me, but—”

“Will you just do as I say and shut up?”

“No,” she said. “I was getting to that bit. I’ll obey you all you want, but only when you’re in your right mind. Not when you’re possessed by some Snake Queen who’s intent on having you do her bidding.”

He stopped, hands bunched to fists and grimace. “For the last time, I’m not possessed by some Snake Queen, nor am I unfit to tell you what to do. I know exactly what I’m doing, and I’m ordering you to shut the fuck up and stay out here.”

“Which proves my point,” Cassandra said. “Because the Josh I know never had to tell, let alone order, any of us to do anything. So, you, my beautiful husband, are not in your right mind.” She marched into the room. “Oh, how delightful. Is that you, Nareena?”

Josh stumbled in, breathing hard, the room roasting hot with a fire blazing in its center with a giant snake coiled around, its head raised, facing Cassandra. The snake’s golden scales sprayed the fire’s amber glow about a room remarkable only for its ordinariness and lofted ceiling that pitched to an open flue. Each of its four walls held a door in its middle. All but the one they’d come through closed.

“I am Scillion, God of the Serpent, Queen of the Cold, Mistress of Sillia. Lady Nareena lives inside me. Her power is mine. Her spells are mine to hold. Her intended is mine to control.” She reared up, towering above Cassandra, her fangs dripping with venom. “Begone, witch! I have business with my servant!”

“Ha!” Cassandra shouted. “He is no more your servant than I!”

“Quiet!” Josh cried; his teeth fixed in a painful grimace. “Scillion, tell me what I must do!”

Josh shot Cassandra a pained look as he fought to stand, his knees weak and his mind demanding he fall to his knees and beg for Scillion’s love.

“Better,” said Scillion. “Much better. Come, come with me, my intended, that we might be together.”

“I will,” said Josh. “Might I bring my servant? She may be of use.” He gasped, the words so hard to say.

The snake slithered free of the firepit, curling around Cassandra and coming face to face with her. “Is she yours to command?”

“She is.”

“Can I eat her?”

Josh closed, forcing himself to stare at the magnificent snake. “She can serve us better alive,” he said.

“I can?” Cassandra said, her lip curled into a wary snarl. “I can,” she said, nodding and regaining her composure.

“She holds The Everdeep Staff. Its jewel can help us defeat even our greatest enemy!”

“Then she may come and witness our union.” The snake slithered around Cassandra, along the hearth. “This way.”

One of the doors opened, allowing them passage through, and they entered a room resplendent in soft furnishings, a pool, and the remains of a thousand acolytes.

“Well, this is beyond gruesome,” Cassandra muttered.

A single servant stood by a large, golden stool with a red, dimpled cushion. Scillion slithered upon it, coiling herself into a cone and resting her head atop the pile. “Sit with me,” she ordered. “Izod! Bring me some food.”

“Right away,” said the orange-cloaked acolyte. He shuffled out of the room, his footsteps echoing down a corridor.

“Who are your enemies?” Josh asked, coming by her side and crouching.

His mind had cleared the moment he had set eyes on her. Once again, he likened it to a drunk who achieved a measure of clarity once a drink was in hand. He had a window—that much he knew. He had a window in which to find out the truth before the poison bit again.

“Who are your enemies, Mistress?” Josh asked, his lips straining to form the words, sweat pouring from his brow.

Cassandra quirked an eyebrow but, for once, said nothing. She took an anonymous position to one side but with a clear shot at the serpent queen.

“My enemies are yours. Your enemies are mine. They are the same enemies Nareena warned you about. They are filthy dwarves and stuck-up elves. They are mischievous pixies and dirty goblins. They are Her servants, and they must be eradicated. She tried to tell you that, but you never listened.”

“She—" Josh gasped. “She never said they were ravenous. She never said they were under a spell.”

“Because they weren’t. The spell has only just been cast by Her.”

“She knew? Nareena knew?”

Scillion stared at Josh, tilting her head, her slanted eyes filled with inquiry and her forked tongue tasting the air. “You have a lot of questions, my servant.”

Cassandra made to say something but stopped. She slowly maneuvered her staff into position.

“I have my own will,” Josh said. “As well as the desire to serve you. I must ask questions to understand how better to do that.”

His mind cleared as a veneer of blue colored his vision. He tried to catch Cassandra’s eye, but she focused solely on the snake goddess.

“Your own will? She said you were a strong one. So be it. Our common enemy—the one that has decimated my lands. The one who has driven my people to the outer lands.” Scillion drilled her stare into him. “The one that killed my most faithful servant.”

“Pandoril?” Josh ventured.

Scillion rasped. “She it is who controls them all. She it is who sits in the center and dictates fates. She it is who must die for what she has done.”

“She must die,” Josh repeated.

“Yes,” Scillion said.

“Where is she?”

The snake looked down. “Deep under where Goblins play, and old ones groan. She is there, and you must kill her.”

“Will you show me the way?”

Scillion chuckled. “You are the one with the free will. You are the one with your own mind. Tell me. Was this your plan all along or mine?”

Josh gasped as the necklace grew red hot, burning his skin and causing his vision to cloud red. He screamed as pain gripped him, sending him to his knees. Cassandra thrust her staff forward, muttering a series of words.

“No!” Josh screamed. “Leave her!”

“Yes,” raged the snake. “Leave me, Witch of Everything, for I am the only one who knows where they are! I am the only one who can help you now!”

“Who are you?” Cassandra screamed.

“I am Scillion! I am the Snake Goddess!”

The necklace exploded, shards peppering Josh’s chest, poison splattering him—venom finally unleashed. He gasped, but the venom passed through him, quashed quickly by his bots, and the last vestiges of his enslavement vanished. “You have a deal,” he said, standing, tossing the hanging chain away. “And you can tell Nareena that she didn’t need to try and poison me to get me here.”

The snake regarded him. “You would never have taken notice of her. You would never have come. You all despised her.” The snake hissed and spat. “Were it not for the slaughter, you wouldn’t be here now.”

The servant returned dragging a struggling goat.

“First light tomorrow. We travel to the cave.”

“What happened here?” Cassandra asked, looking at all the bones.

“They came to kill me. I killed them,” the snake said.

Josh sat beside Cassandra, warming his hands on the fire while leaning back against his wagon. He nudged her, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Just how much of an apology do I owe you?” he asked.

Arabella pointed over the fire. “We could bet on it. On a scale of one to ten, from what I’ve heard, nine.”

“Seven,” said Melody. “He was under the influence of Nareena’s poison.”

Harrogate paced up. “I think one. Let me give you my reasoning.”

“Shut it, Old Man,” Cassandra said. “This isn’t some kind of academic problem. This is Josh apologizing to me, and none of your business.”

“Only because I said one. I have valid reasons. For a start, he was poisoned, yet he still managed to rid himself of what was a stealth toxin and saw right through the snake’s ploy and got what he wanted.”

“It’s more than one,” Cassandra said. “Toxin or no toxin. He shouted at me and tried to order me around.”

“I agree,” said Elowen. “Josh shouldn’t have to order us around.”

“Unless we’re bad, bad, girls,” Cassandra said, winked and licked her lips.

“Oh yes,” Arabella said. “We need telling off when we’re bad. How many, Els?”

“Eight,” she said. “If he was strong enough to beat the poison and deal with the snake, then he was strong enough to be polite to Cassandra.”

“I vote none,” said Vella, snuggling up to him.

“You would,” Cassandra said, poking her tongue out.

“None for me, too,” said Lyra, offering him her cheek.

“Any other takers?” Josh said. “Because I have a figure, and it’s ten. I tell you why.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll take it,” Cassandra said.

“No, you deserve to know. I’m telling you, I was screwed. That poison snuck under the ring’s radar and knocked me for six. All I wanted to do was kneel before that fucking snake and worship the ass off it. Right up until Cassandra told the ring what was happening.”

“I did?” Cassandra said.

“You did.”

“What did I say?”

“You said: What if its poison is so feeble it can’t affect you—it’s not even worth flashing in your mind? But what if it gathers over time and sits in your mind like an unwelcome guest? The ring then realized that I had been poisoned and began working on curing me. By the time I faced the snake, my head had cleared. So, I owe you a huge apology for shouting at you and ordering you about.”

Cassandra sighed. “Aww, shoot. You had to go ruin it.”

“How the heck did I do that?”

“You just gave me all the credit and cleared yourself at the same time. That just isn’t fair.” She shrugged. “I’ll take the ten. We’ll call it quits.”

“Good, because we need to work out who’s going to kill Pandoril tomorrow. It’ll be underground. We’re going in blind, likely to face zombie goblins, dwarves and elves. We’ll face spiders. We’ll face a boss beast.”

“A boss beast?” Arabella asked.

“Think of it as a King or Queen monster,” Josh explained.

“Then,” said Melody. “It’s lucky we have a surplus of flashbangs we never used in Sinsibar.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

JOSH BOOTED DOWN THE DOOR, its bars and locks proving little worth against his impressive strength. Lex swept in, torch and sword in hand.

"Perfect," he said, a smile breaking. "This is what I'm talking about."

"About time," Lex said. "Has to be the twentieth shop we've searched."

"It's the sixth. Don't exaggerate.”

“I could have come with Cassandra. She's powerful enough to wipe out any marauding horde."

"I think Scillian did a fine job eating the lot. That or that odd eunuch fellow has stored the bodies. I wouldn’t put it past the strange pair. Have them all on ice, ready for a rainy day."

"Who would store bodies?"

"You never saw him. He was a weird one. Completely shaven head, pins through his eyebrows and nose, and yellow eyes—tattooed, I think. Never said a word to us—not one. Cassandra reckoned he was a pretty powerful mage, but I can't see it. Surely he would have used some magic on us if he thought his mistress was in danger."

"Perhaps he thought she wasn't. If Cassandra said he has magic, I'd tend to believe her."

"Yeah, you're right. So, what do you need?" He reached for a sword hanging on a rack. "Something like this?"

The sword was long with a slight curve to its blade. Its grip extended to a quarter of its length—much more than a Mythelorian sword. Lex took it from him, moving toward an open carpeted area of the weapons shop.

"It's beautiful," she said. "I've never seen its like." She performed some shapes. "So easy to use. The thinner blade makes it so light. I'm taking this one. Has it got a sheath?"

Josh picked a sling from the rack. "This looks like it fits, but it won't hang on a belt. I think it goes over your shoulder."

"It's fine." She grabbed it and put both to one side. "I need some knives." She vaulted the shop counter and pawed over a knife display. "This place must have had some wealthy people living here. I've never seen a weapons shop before—I mean, an actual shop with weapons in it. I was hunting an armory or a smithy’s store. This is, well, decadent? In Califire, the smith made everything to order. Do you think we got Sillia all wrong?"

"I think Nareena might have played the swamp pauper quite well. Probably paid a pittance in tax while her little country within a province thrived."

"Perhaps Candour underestimated her."

"Or was in league with her," Josh said.

He took another sword down. Similar to Lex’s new one but with a slightly shorter blade, its grip taking up a third of its length. He swung it with one hand, then tried a few shapes with two, his guiding hand sliding up and down the grip as needed. “These types of swords could be very versatile.”

“You need another one. That bloody great thing on your back is okay for a straightforward beast fight, but anything fast and agile, and you’ll flounder.”

“Fast and agile like a spider?”

“Exactly like a spider, yes.”

“I’m taking it anyway.” He looked around the shop. “No, I’m taking everything. We have the wagons. Let's load them up.”

“I’m guessing the owner is dead.”

“The owner was a good friend of mine,” a quiet yet forceful voice said.

The orange-clad servant appeared from the back of the shop. He held his hands clasped together and displayed no emotion to indicate Josh’s earlier words had caused him offense.

“His name was William Hast, and he was a weaponsmith beyond compare. Nareena, in her infinite wisdom, gave him all the precious metals he needed to build up his stock of these fantastic weapons. She didn’t want him to waste a moment of his life waiting for a commission.”

“Did he die?”

“They all died,” the man said, running his finger along the shop counter and inspecting it for dust. Once satisfied, he continued. “I am Izod Vetch, First Eunuch to the Court of Lady Nareena and Guardian of the Great Scillian.” He glided forward, looking Josh up and down. “I would respectfully suggest that you discard the piece you are holding and use this one.” He reached for the highest sword. “This one is one of his greatest works. It is made from steel folded over one hundred times. It is light, maneuverable, and its grip is better suited to a man of your strength. It has…tension…yes, tension is the right word. Should we be gifted some time together, then I will be able to instruct you on its use.”

“If you are accompanying your mistress, we will have some time.”

Izod bowed, then reached for the shelves again. “For the lady, I think you will find this sword more suited to your frame and poise.”

Lex shrugged. “I think the deal is we’re taking the lot, but I’ll take your advice. Your friend must have been very talented.”

“His work was beyond measure.” He took a knife from her. “Take this piece. Its balance is perfection. Its blade could split a hair. It stabs—what blade doesn’t? So, what makes it so special?” He threw the knife across the shop, hitting the open door’s edge. “It is in the throwing. If you can trust your throw, a short, close-quarter weapon becomes the deadliest mid-range weapon you could hope for.”

“You know your stuff,” Josh said.

“I do. I have few delights in life outside of my service. One is an indulgence for weaponry. William was more suited to metalwork, but his wife, Thespia, was a craftswoman in her own right. She favored wood, in particular the swamp vine. Be not confused by its name; the swamp vine is a sturdy and flexible wood, perfect for bows. The red-headed archer…”

“Arabella.”

“Yes, her.” He took down a bow, then selected a quiver full of arrows. “Take this for her. It will shorten her range by a few yards but increase her accuracy a hundredfold.”

“Have you been watching us?” Lex asked.

“Naturally. Having as much information on a potential foe as possible is prudent.”

“Izod, you’d fit right in with us. We like to prepare,” Josh said. “If you have a brief moment before we descend into the tunnels, it would be good to hear your account of what happened here.”

“I can be at your camp at first light, and I will happily tell you all. The Rings of Sillia will contain the threat for a while, but the evil will spread to Eldorwyn. There is little we can do to prevent that.”

“Why would you care?” Josh asked. “From what I gather, Nareena wasn’t widely accepted in Mythelore.”

“You would have to ask yourself whether that was by her design or theirs. Have you seen such riches as these in Califire?”

Josh snorted. “To be fair, Califire is in ruins, so I’ve seen no riches there.”

“I heard about that unfortunate incident. A coincidence or bad timing?”

“I’ve wracked my brains about that. I can’t see a monster in the Hangsane influencing a creature from the ocean's depths.”

“No, but if one creature stampedes, many get caught up in the groundswell. Perhaps Mythelore is seen as an easy target, and monsters of all types are testing its boundaries.”

“If you intend to fight a realm, kill its King first,” Lex said.

“Precisely.” Izod pressed his hands together and bowed. “Until the morning.” He grimaced. “If you choose to empty this shop, please be respectful. They were good friends of mine.”

Josh mimicked the few sword strokes Izod had shown him as the eunuch strolled from the shop. Izod was right. The sword glided effortlessly through the air; its speed incredible. He fell into a rhythm, his ring guiding him through differing shapes as it adapted his style to the new weapon. Within a few minutes, it felt like a mere extension of him.

“Is that you or your little companion?” Lex asked.

“The ring helps. It remembers everything and can adapt. I was given a couple of sword lessons by a master called Carl. It’s adapting those lessons and blending them with Izod’s strokes.”

“That is handy.” She took up a defensive stance, her weapon angled across her body. “Guide me through a few,” she asked.

He came up behind her, cupping her hands and savoring the slight taint of her sweat. “Like this,” he said, moving her arms and guiding her around. “Imagine we’ve strapped our waist and legs together. Follow my movements. I’ll go slow, so memorize.”

With a step forward, he raised her sword, sidestepped and brought it down. He backtracked, lifting the blade, sidestepped again, and brought the weapon down on the other side. He followed that pattern, repeating it, then added a further move, then another. Once they’d completed the shape, he stepped away.

“Your turn but speed up a little.”

She mimicked the shape precisely, her grace and speed a joy to watch. After pausing, she resumed her practice but added new steps and moves.

“That’s it. Adapt. Add your story, and it will become complete.”

“It’s a fantastic piece,” Lex said. “Breathtaking.” She thrust forward and scampered back. Forward and back, and then she bowed to the rack and placed the sword on its stand.

She turned, sweat dusting her brow, her breaths shallow. “We’re alone,” she said, coming close to him and placing her hand on his chest. “There is nothing more precious than a stolen moment.”

She pulled her hand away, her eyes flicking down, lip quivering. “Sorry,” she said, her voice faint and slightly shaky.

He grabbed her hand, drawing it back to his chest and holding it there. “Never be sorry, Lex.” He pulled her close, tipping her chin and staring deeply into her eyes. “Never be sorry. You are perfect.”

She sniffed. “I’m far from perfect.”

“In that there is perfection.” He kissed her, barely touching her lips, satisfied as their breaths mingled and grew in intensity. He held back momentarily but found his groin pressing into hers and his arms reaching around her. Desperate to prolong the moment of pure suspense, he looked away but couldn’t maintain the pose. He needed to taste her lips. He needed the reassurance of shared passion.

Then he broke, as did she—the precipice reached and impossible to protract as they plunged into the intensity of passion with unleashed enthusiasm. Their lips met again, but all pretense of play had ended. She reached inside him, her tongue gliding into his mouth, met and countered. Thrust and parry took on a new meaning as a different dance consumed them.

Josh’s knees buckled. He pulled her down as he lowered himself, and suddenly both knelt, praying to each other, their torsos one. She tugged at his shirt, and when it snagged, she fumbled its laces, picking as the knots tightened. He tried to give her a hand, pulling his shirt over his head, but it snagged on his chin. “Shit.” He muttered.

“Let me.”

He laughed. “You knotted it in the first place.”

“I’ll sort it.”

She grabbed her knife and slit his shirt down the middle, opening it like a pair of curtains. “There,” she said.

“That’s two shirts ruined in this damn province,” he muttered, tossing it away. “Hand me the knife. I’ll undress you.”

“Oh no you don’t,” she said, pulling her top off and setting it carefully to one side.

He stared at her, awed by her beauty. The dimly lit shop accentuated her skin, the relief of her breasts highlighted by the sliver of the flickering torchlight, the darker hue of her nipples nearly lost in the shadow.

He took a breath and then stood, stripping his pants and boots. “Your turn,” he said.

“No. No, I think I’ll stay here.” She reached for him, her hand curling around his thigh and pulling him toward her.

“Alright,” he said, his erection hardening, cock twitching by her lips.

She cocked her head, studying his manhood, watching it. “It’s like it’s got a mind of its own.” She reached, grabbing his shaft and bringing him close. “So powerful.”

Lex brought her lips to his end, moving her head forward to slide over his head. Her mouth was hot, lips slick with saliva. Her tongue touched his end, its tip toying with his slit. She moved closer, the underside of his cock slid along her tongue, and then she withdrew, looking up. “Am I doing it right?”

“Yeah, baby. But you’ll need to practice most days to get it right.”

Lex slapped his thigh, leaving one hand holding him. She moved forward again, sliding her tongue up and down him, increasing her speed as he moved his legs slightly apart. His deepening breaths spurred her to greater speed, and the first drops of precum spilled onto her tongue.

“Enough!” he said, but she continued regardless. “Enough, baby,” he said, his words more of a whimper as he backed away, his dick leaving her with a pop.

“What? Did I do it wrong? I was doing it wrong, wasn’t I?”

“It was perfect. But I want you. I want you, Lex”. He knelt again, pushing her back and pulling her boots off. “We’ll have plenty of time once these monsters are done.”

She rolled onto her back, slipping her pants off and setting them aside. She lay, waiting for him to make the first move. “They’ll always be other monsters,” she said.

“Yes,” he said. “And we’ll take them down.” Josh nudged her legs apart. “Stolen moments,” he said, and her hovered over her momentarily, then lowered and slid in.

She gasped as fully hilted into her. He paused, their bodies so close, but not one. “You okay?”

She didn’t say a word. Instead, she nodded her head, barely a motion, but all he needed to know to understand she was ready. Collapsing to his elbows, he lifted his ass, withdrawing from her. She lifted her legs, folding one ankle over the other and forcing him back into her. Josh acknowledged her initiative but challenged it by lifting himself out. Before she could react, he plunged back in, jamming his cock so deep she winced.

He grinned, knowing he’d filled her entirely. She untied her ankles, spread her legs as far apart as she could and raised her hands over her head as she accepted his dominance and offered her body up to him.

He paused, surprised by her supplication, and pushed her wrists together, enhancing her submission by pinning her hands together. Rising away from her, he hovered, one arm supporting his entire weight as he lifted and plunged to establish his rhythm. With each withdrawal, she raised her hips, and with each thrust, she accepted his length. Their bodies became slick, molding together as one, rising, falling, bucking and accepting. Their speed increased, his momentum matched by her growing confidence. He could see it in her eyes as she laid down her challenge. She would beat him. It was inevitable.

But he wasn’t going down without a fight.

Lifting one leg, he slid it up and over his shoulder, quickly folding her in half when he pulled the other up. He squeezed her legs together, her calves pressed against his ears. Her pussy tightened to a thin slit—a silken pocket that ground against his cock as he increased his pendulum-like motion to a frantic pace.

Releasing her wrists, he planked above her, his arms locked straight, hers still above her head, their eyes locked in combat. She bit her lip, a strangled noise coming from her. She wanted to cry out—he knew it. He’d won a battle and brought her to a point, but the victory had cost him. His pleasure had increased exponentially. Her tight cunt gripped him hard, increasing his need to complete. Instinct took over—that base, primal instinct to cum as fast as possible. He had to complete, to finish the job.

He begged his body to slow, to ease the pleasure and make himself last longer than her. He’d won the battle, for God’s sake. To carry on would be to lose the war. But there was grace in defeat—his mind told him that, too. There was grace in defeat.

It’s safer, Josh! Less exposed! Finish!

Despite his desire, he sped up, plunging in and out of her faster and faster. Then, as defeat welled in his balls, she screamed and bucked and threw her head from side to side. He desperately tried to cling on, squeezing his balls, clamping his tubes shut. Lex grimaced, holding her breath while simultaneously holding back her screams. He powered into her, sensing he’d snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, but his eagerness undid him, and he released his balls, his cum spilling into his channels, surging from his balls.

Lex’s eyes lit up like some sixth sense had told her he’d reached his time. She released her cry, her scream turning from a single note into a single word, and she grabbed her ankles and pulled them to her ears. “Fuck!” she cried, cramping her pussy tight around his thrusting cock and rinsing his last resistance from him.

He exploded into her, all tension vanishing from him as her smile confirmed his defeat. She released her legs as she accepted his cum, and a shiver ran the length of her body as she relinquished her control and joined him in completion.

Josh grinned, his lower body jerking as the last of his ejaculation emptied into her. He slipped her legs from his shoulder, letting her fold them around his lower back as he let himself slump against her, their sweat mingling, their breaths one, and her breasts pressed to his chest.

“Stolen moments,” she said.

Chapter Twenty-Six

JOSH WINCED as he left his carriage. It was a bright and sunny morning, and he’d overslept. The soft clash of gently battling weapons told him Izod had made good on his promise and come. Lex’s absence from their bed meant she’d stolen the eunuch’s time. He grinned ruefully. He denied his favored assassin nothing. She needed the practice more than he did, and he could learn as much watching as participating.

A fire embered in the center of their circled wagons. Harrogate looked up. He stirred a pot of boiling water, its fragrance a mix of spices and herbs.

“A cup of Sillian tea?” he asked. “Smells nice. It’s cleared my nostrils.” Harrogate filled two mugs without waiting for a reply, replacing the pot on the fire. “Will Izod be joining us? He’s quite civilized. It makes a change for—” He paused. “It makes a change. He’s brought bacon, too.”

Josh took the steaming cup, blowing across it as he turned toward the swordfight. “You sure that’s bacon? Lot of corpses unaccounted for around here.”

Lex and Izod sparred a little outside the perimeter. He walked close but not close enough to put her off, resting his foot on a wagon’s step.

“I know what bacon looks like, and this is bacon. You’re not going to ruin it for me, Josh,” Harrogate said.

“Bacon? Who said bacon?” Arabella said, emerging from the cart and stretching. Her voice had made Josh turn from the fight. The sight of her breasts squeezing up and out made his gaze linger.

“I did. Don’t let Josh ruin a perfectly good breakfast with his damn conspiracy theories,” Harrogate said.

“I simply said,” Josh said, but left his words hanging. Their effect would be much more devastating that way.

“Said what?” Elowen asked, standing beside Arabella and wearing a shirt that barely reached her thighs. She pushed her glasses up to the bridge of her nose, her shirt rising a smidge too much, enough to lock Josh’s gaze on her. He felt his morning erection return.

“I have mushrooms and eggs,” said Melody. “Put your pussy away. Elowen. It’ll catch a chill.”

Elowen blushed and poked her tongue out. Vella snuck behind Elowen and lifted the archaeologist's shirt right up. She snickered and jumped down as Elowen crouched fast, pulling her shirt down.

“Vella,” she snapped, but the elven healer just laughed.

“Girls! My Dad’s here!” Melody protested.

“And about to eat a human corpse, according to your boyfriend.”

“I never said that,” Josh repeated, focusing back on the fight.

“Ew, Dad!”

“It’s bacon. Izod said it’s bacon, so it’s bacon.”

Cassandra appeared from a gap in the wagons. “Give me. Let’s have a look. This is a serious matter that shouldn’t be joked about.”

Harrogate held up the silver platter, dozens of bacon rashers lined up like soldiers on a parade ground, half-cut tomatoes splitting their ranks.

“Bacon. Definitely bacon,” she said. “Who’s cooking what? I have some potatoes. So that’s potatoes, eggs, mushrooms and bacon. We’ll need a good breakfast if we’re going underground for the foreseeable future.”

“We need bread,” Elowen said. “Can’t you conjure some?”

“We came across a bakery last night while we were looking for weapons. Might be some biscuits or something,” Josh said.

“Izod brought bread along with the body parts,” Harrogate said. “There’s a basket of it over there.”

“Well, let’s get cooking,” Cassandra said, vanishing into her wagon and reappearing with a large, flat piece of iron. She set it up over the fire, letting it hover in place. “Bacon first, let’s get that fat going. Then, the mushrooms, eggs and tomatoes. Is that tea? I like tea.”

Josh let them cook, returning his attention to Lex and Izod. The eunuch was a good teacher. He showed patience when he had to but was quick to progress when she grasped a concept. Josh saw the moves. He began to liken them to a dance rather than a fight. Every movement was fluid, and each led to the next. The flight flowed. After a short while, they stopped. Each faced the other as they bowed.

“Ah, Josh, would you care to spar now?”

“I’ve learned a lot by watching, and from the smell wafting over me, I think breakfast is well on the way. Thank you for that. You didn’t have to.”

He waved his hand in circles above his head. “This place, this city of Ginstrata, once held five thousand people. Hence, we stored five thousand people’s worth of food. Much has gone to waste since it’s just been me and Scillion. I tried my hardest to eat it all, but one can only fit so much in.” He placed his sword in its carrier. “You didn’t loot the store?”

“Yet,” Josh said. “We took what we needed for the journey under. Arabella loved the bow you selected.”

“It will work with her frame. Perhaps we should stop by there on the way to the tunnels and arm all that will be going. I have an eye for what suits a person.”

“A good eye. Is your storytelling as good?”

Izod opened his palms. “Alas, no, but I will endeavor to make it enjoyable.”

They walked back to the fire, sitting close and watching the cooking. “Could you start by explaining a little about the rings?” Josh asked.

“Those? Yes, I imagine they confuse a visitor. But I’m happy to explain. Contrary to your thoughts, there is no huge conspiracy. I would say the benefits were more happy side effects. It all stems back to the time Scillion appeared here.

“Nareena was always in awe of the snake. The architecture you see predates Scillion’s arrival. We worshipped Scillion even before she came. Perhaps it was Nareena’s faith that brought her to us. Perhaps not. But she came, which was the start of a new chapter in Sillia’s history. Josh, I can’t begin to explain how much it meant for a God-fearing city to have a God suddenly. Those were heady days. But, a God needs pacifying, and Scillion came with some demands.

“Scillion had friends.” Izod pursed his lips. “Friends—yes, friends is a good way of putting it. While she never made demands, she did hint that favor would come if we made room for them in Sillia.”

“What friends?” Josh asked.

"It was a delicate matter and one that Nareena handled poorly to begin with. She thought her devotion to the snake goddess should have been enough. Her dream of Scillion and her jointly ruling her land had no place for others, and she feared losing her attention. She needn't have worried.

"Scillion had friends, as I have alluded to, but they were worshipers rather than companions. There were the Slime Snakes of the Morian Pits and the grass snakes of the Valley of the Souls. Thousands of differing snake species lived in Scillion's old home, the hot and humid Feraenge Forest. But none compared to the Henge, magnificent rock snakes from the wastelands beyond the Hangsane.

"Rock snakes?" Josh said. "Huge great things that look a lot like a worm?"

Izod chuckled. “They’d not thank you for that comparison. Worms do not have fangs. Nor do they have eyes or tongues. The Henge is a violent snake race that likes nothing better than devouring travelers and slaughtering beasts. They make great guardians.”

“The Henge is a gigantic rock snake—as in burrows through rock?” Josh said.

“Yes.”

Josh pondered the phrasing of his following words. “I want no lies to sit between us, Izod. We killed one of those beasts to get here.”

Izod remained still momentarily. Then accepted breakfast from Arabella. “I imagine you must have killed a few things to get here, although I was hoping her mark allowed you passage.”

“Her mark?”

“The necklace. It was supposed to subdue you and make you more pliable, but you are more open-minded than we could have hoped for.”

“Well, next time you try and hijack my head, I’ll kill you. Are we clear on that?”

“As clear as Ginstrata. So, did the Henge attack you?”

“Me and Lexi. We managed to kill it, but it was touch and go.”

“Just two of you took down one of the great beasts?”

“She’s a skilled assassin, and I’m quite hard to kill. Having said that, it very nearly ended me.”

“You must tell Scillion and accept her wrath if there is any, but I suspect none will come. Snakes are more honorable than us. There is good and bad. There is prey, and there is predator. Everything is clear-cut. The Henge was the predator, and you were the prey. If the prey beats the predator, then the winner is to be applauded.”

“Good to know. So—” He wanted to ask Izod about his magic but wasn’t sure the inquiry would be welcomed.

“The rings?” Izod enquired.

“Yes, those. Are they rings?”

“Sillia isn’t round, so no. Scillion—the snake Goddess—formed the habitats. She opened portals to allow her subjects through. Those places have altered over time. I am an aeromancer—not a bad one, if I do say so myself, but by no means powerful. I maintain the winds, the pressures and the clouds where I can, but fortunately, once a swamp is a swamp, it tends to influence its surroundings. I have limited geomancy.” He glanced at Cassandra. “I sense she has more.”

“A little,” Josh said. “She is a Harmonic and not your run-of-the-mill fake. She’s the real deal.”

“She has all the powers?”

“Indeed, and she’s growing in confidence daily.”

“You should inform Scillion before we venture under. She might have some advice for you.”

“Some advice?” Josh asked.

“Scillion comes from the Hangsane. She understands more than us.” He narrowed his eyes. “You would be better off talking to her, but from my understanding, what is considered powerful here is weak there.”

Josh’s heart raced. It confirmed his thoughts. “This place is the weakest?”

“Mythelore is a child, while those from the Hangsane are the adults. We live in the kindergarten, Josh. That is my understanding.”

Josh took his breakfast from Melody and ate while he thought. If what Izod said was true, then he had to travel there. But it also meant that Ravenheart and his harem wouldn’t be easy to take down. Then, another thought came to him, and it lightened his heart.

“I’m sure we’ll be okay. We killed a leviathan, after all.”

“You did,” Izod said. “And one day, you will have to tell me that story. To kill such a beast, along with a henge?” He paused. “Perhaps you could survive on the fringes of the great mountains.”

“Perhaps,” Josh said with a grin. Everything made sense to him. He’d had trouble progressing in Mythelore of late, but the moment he came across a beast that originated from the Hangsane, he’d suffered enough wounds not only to progress but gain a few points. “Perhaps I need the challenge to grow,” he said, meeting Izod’s stare.

“What are you?” the eunuch asked him. “I’ve told you my story. What is yours?”

“I will share it with you on the way through the caves.” Josh finished up his breakfast. “In the meanwhile, you were going to tell us what happened here.”

“Perhaps on the way to the weaponry. We should stop by there, and I’ll select weapons for you all. Then we’ll park your wagons in the palace courtyard behind the gates. Such carriages shouldn’t be left out in the open.”

Josh inclined his head. “That’s very kind of you, but charms protect them.”

He chuckled. “A good friend of mine once told me that a charm is only as good as the sorcerer who cast it.”

“Fair point,” he said. “That’s a fair point.”

The wagon trundled down Ginstrata’s cobbled street. Izod sat up straight, his hands clasped on his lap and his shoulders level. He looked uncomfortable, sitting at attention, but Josh suspected it was his shape—that he rarely relaxed. Without prompting, the eunuch began the tale of Sillia’s downfall.

“We first noticed a problem two days after Nareena set out for Califire. Two rivers form our border with Alianthia. The first flows east and into Eldorwyn, while the second flows west and empties into the sea. They leave an unfortunate land bridge, which, quite naturally, is heavily fortified to separate us from our sworn enemy, the delightful elves and the ever-pleasant dwarves.

“In common with all our borders, we have formed swamplands, which are the homes of the many varieties of slime snakes that effectively cut us off from the world. When one worships a singular diet for long enough, you begin to take on their traits. One trait of the snake is that of privacy. Sillians are not social creatures, Josh, and so we welcome our isolation. You said earlier that Nareena wasn’t treated well. Perhaps she was treated precisely how she wanted to be?”

“That thought had crossed my mind, too,” Josh said.

They pulled to a halt outside the weapons shop, and Izod took each of the girls in, equipping them for the trip under. Harrogate declined. He’d decided to mind the wagons while the others hunted Pandoril. It was a wise choice. The old monster hunter had hung up his boots long ago and was content to stay in the background. It suited Josh. He suspected he couldn’t afford passengers on the hunt.

Melody took the longest in the shop. Her specialty was traps and explosives, but Izod had stated that she would need to defend herself. He equipped her with a spear, shield and a knife, promising to take her under his wing and show her the ropes to improve her rudimentary skills. Once he’d finished, he closed the door, bowed and climbed aboard the wagon with Josh and Elowen.

“A rider came—one of our Sentisi. To explain, the Sentisi delivered all messages throughout the province. Having so many terrains and a multitude of dangerous reptiles produces its own challenges. The Sentisi were versed in combat and could take on any. They had specialist evasion techniques for avoiding the henge snakes and were trained to resist all but the most powerful venoms. Thus, a Sentisi had no problems traversing the land and making it to Ginstrata to warn us of the madness that had broken out on the land bridge.”

“You mentioned there were fortifications on the land bridge. By fortifications, I take it you mean walls and the like.”

“Indeed, from each riverbank to the other.”

“Then how did maddened elves have the sense to get through such things?” Elowen asked a notepad in hand and pencil primed.

“Alas, governments cause friction while ordinary folks get on with their lives. Nareena and the Alianthians, Mythelore and the Alianthians, had strained relations. But, when ordinary folks are left to their own devices, they tend to get along. Nareena turned a blind eye to it as there were certain goods needed in Sillia that weren’t available to her locally in Mythelore. Certain precious metals, tin, herbs, tinctures, that sort of thing.”

“So, she didn’t mind elves?” Elowen asked.

“Elves, dwarves, all of them were the enemy—they were the ones that would steal into your bedroom at night and kill you. They were the ones that wanted to steal your stuff. All rulers need enemies, Josh. How else do they instill fear in their subjects?”

“A good point. So, no one took any notice of the walls, and I’ll bet the gates hung open.”

“You would guess correctly. Elves mixed with Sillians. They married and had children. Some lived in Alianthia, others in Sillia. The lines were blurred.”

“And they all drank Zim-zim?”

“Every single one of them.”

“So when the spell activated, the landbridge turned?” Josh phrased it as a question, but it was rhetoric.

“According to our messenger, it erupted overnight. The infected slaughtered any that were clean of the curse. More poured from Alianthia, driven to fervor by the spider queen. They raced from the land bridge, through the swamp, then into a temperate region formed to mimic Alianthia in the same way Sinsibar mimicks Mythelore. The swamp depleted their numbers, but enough got through to ravage that area. They crossed the rock ring, maddened by their sickness. The henge took some, but hundreds made it through, and they fell on Ginstrata in the dead of night, dragging folks from their beds. It was brutal, savage—the slaughter entire. It was over in moments. Our soldiers didn’t even have a chance to rally.”

He sighed, then directed the wagons to the courtyard before finally slumping.

“We weren’t ready, Josh. We never posted guards on our gates. We thought ourselves immune from worry, protected as we were by the rings.” He thumped his knee. “We were in the center—the dead center of our lands. We were untouchable.”

“No one is untouchable, not now—never again,” Josh said.

Izod stared at him. “Because of the spiders?”

“Portals,” Josh said. “Because of portals. We killed a tribe of lizardmen. It is our understanding that they came from somewhere in the Hangsane. They have mastered portals. Nowhere is safe, Izod, nowhere. Not until we master that place.” Josh stared south, over the courtyard walls and toward the distant, ghostly shadows.

“We must reclaim our lands first,” Izod said, then sat up straight. “To Scillion! Less of this doom and gloom. We have a mission—an adventure.” He stretched and jumped from the cart. “After years of tedious service, I feel quite alive.”

“How come you never chose a weapon yourself,” Elowen asked.

“Me? A weapon? I have my staff. It is all I need. It has steel ends, you know.” He winked at her. “It’s a very special staff.”

Scillion sat in her throne room, coiled and awaiting them. The snake regarded them as they approached. “Are we ready to descend?”

“We are my Goddess,” Izod said. “But certain things have come to light that you should be aware of.”

“Such as?” the snake said.

“The witch, Cassandra.”

“Me?” Cassandra asked.

“She is a Harmonic. She has the complete power,” Izod said. “The other, Josh, has a confession to make.”

“A Harmonic,” said Scillion. “Your powers will be impressive here but need taming so that you can progress. Such tutelage could be found south from here.”

“What’s it like in the Hangsane?” Josh asked. “What powers does it hold?”

“All things reach their peak. What is strong need to be stronger. What is weak dies. There are challenges, and there are triumphs. You must fight to survive there.”

“Why did you leave?” Josh asked.

Scillion brought her head level with Josh and stared into his eyes. “Because here I am a Goddess. There, I was prey.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

CASSANDRA THREW up her light orb. Its pure, white light spread to the tunnel’s smooth walls. Josh could make out tiny abrasive marks, yet understood the tunnel hadn’t been carved, nor had it been formed by movements in the land’s surface. A henge snake had riven it from the rock, biting its way through the stone like a worm burrowing through soft loam.

“The henge snake attacked you?” Scillion asked.

“Came at us like a train,” Josh said on instinct.

“Train?”

“Came fast and furious, like it could sense the mark hanging around my neck.”

“The henge snake is a strange beast. It senses power, but not mana. It senses vigor. Many creatures of the Hangsane cherish vigor.”

“So it is as we suspected,” Elowen said.

“As you suspected?” Scillion said.

Elowen covered her mouth and then cleared her throat. “We proposed that the Hangsane was awash with mana but lacking in vigor, whereas Mythelore has abundant vigor and scant mana by comparison. It was a theory we shelved as we had no proof, but we did wonder whether the lizardmen came to steal our vigor.”

Scillion slithered on. The snake measured twenty feet long and, when uncoiled, came up to Josh’s shoulder. While not as large as one of the henge snakes, it was imposing, and it quickly removed any obstacles from the tunnel by either crushing them with its giant maw or squashing them against the tunnel wall. Josh began to suspect it was related to the henge snake but was more intent on discovering information about the Hangsane than about Scillion.

“You are correct in your assumption but incorrect in your conclusion,” Scillion said.

“How does that even make sense?” Josh asked.

“Perhaps it doesn’t. My understanding of the Mythelorian tongue is still growing. To answer correctly. Vigor is universal. It is azoth—the solvent that oils the world’s life. As such, it is no more plentiful in Mythelore than in the Hangsane, but there is a difference. The Hangsane is a vibrant place, full of those bursting with life and the need to improve themselves.” Scillion came to a stop at the tunnel’s end. “I’ll let Izod tell you the exact mechanics of it because we have idled the days away discussing these things. But, the answer is in the nature of those who can process vigor. I’ll be back.”

Scillion slithered away at such a speed she was barely a blur. Josh looked after her, his forehead creased in confusion. “Was she indulging us by looking old and cumbersome?”

“She is not regarded as a god for no reason. Come the battle, you might see her true nature. Although I suspect she is a shadow of her old self.”

“If she’s so powerful, then how come she let the Alianthians run riot?”

“She was just one. They came from everywhere. By the time we killed all in the city, our people were dead. Even a god can only be in one place at one time.”

“Explain about the vigor,” Cassandra said.

Izod cleared his throat. “Vigor, as Scillion said, is universal. But its consumption is not. Most humans do not use their vigor. They pass through life hardly using any of their zest. As such, they leak vigor into the air around them, making Mythelcore rich in the stuff, especially in populated areas. The opposite is true in the Hangsane. Practitioners, monsters, even ordinary folks are in a race to become as powerful as possible. Every ounce of vigor is rinsed from the land and hoarded by the powerful. Such is the way of the Hangsane. But, if those mountains count for one thing, that is the survival of the fittest. The henge snake would have smelled your vigor—yours and Lex’s. It would have craved the amount in you because you, Josh, horde vigor like a practitioner.”

“What is a practitioner?” Arabella asked.

“A practitioner is one that practices increasing the amount of vigor in their body. Vigor is power in the same way mana is power. Cassandra has power because she can draw mana from all around her. Josh, on the other hand, is strong because he can draw vigor in, store it and turn it into power. To some monsters, Josh is a beacon—something to hunt for food. To others, he is a predator who is out to steal lifeforce.”

“So, what is Pandoril and Ravenheart?” Elowen asked.

“The closest analogy I could come up with is that of a vampire. The spiders are capable of feeding from their prey, but rather than kill it outright, in most cases, they keep their servants alive. Those servants then gather vigor and feed it back to their master or mistress.”

“So, the spider gets less vigor than if it sucked all the vigor out to start with, but over a period of time, it exceeds that amount through passive gathering,” Melody said.

“Exactly,” Izod said. “By using zombies, it creates a constant flow of vigor back to the central nest and into it, which then allows the spider to become more powerful.”

“So Pandoril is a practitioner?” Josh asked.

“She is. She processes vigor to become more powerful—to scamper faster, create more powerful venoms or to grow. However, she wants to grow and in whichever direction she wants to go.”

“And you think I do this?” Josh said.

“No,” Izod said. “I know you do this, but what confuses me is that I don’t think you know how to cycle vigor. I’m not even sure you understand how to siphon vigor from another being. As far as I can detect, you don’t take any from your harem, yet it has to be one of the prime reasons you have one.”

“He doesn’t,” Vella said. “He doesn’t take vigor. He has a different way.”

Izod’s gaze fell upon Vella. “Ah yes, you would understand, but then you are quite rare, aren’t you, little one?”

“Yes,” Vella said. “Me can take all your vigor, so you be careful, Mister.” She winked and smiled, then skipped to Josh’s side. “If him understand, I could fill him full, and he’d be the strongest of the strong.”

“Then we should all breathe a sigh of relief he doesn’t.”

“Hold on!” Josh said. “You think my increases in power are down to me assimilating this vigor rather than the—” He was about to say ring when he realized he hadn’t told Izod about the origins of his power.

“You are peculiar, Josh. I understand that, just as I understand, your power doesn’t come from the heart. You are no classic practitioner. You do not process vigor—you don’t cultivate it like others. How do I know this? Your rise is too rapid. One moment, there was no Josh Underwood. The next, it was all the land talked of. Cultivation is like the aging of a fine cheese. It takes time.”

“But you could fill me with vigor,” Josh said, turning to Vella gain.

“I do. I renew you. But one thing doesn’t mix with the other. You have your way. Simple. Cannot produce the Quickening. Can’t do that much. Simple.”

“Simple,” said Josh. “But I’d much prefer it if I didn’t have to suffer to progress.”

“Ha!” said Izod. “I knew you had a different way.”

Josh pondered the eunuch. Was he an enemy, or had they become allies and friends? They certainly appeared to be allies. “If we get out of this alive, perhaps I’ll tell you all about myself and how I got here.”

“If we get out of this,” Izod said. “I doubt any of us will be the same, so it’s probably best to think of our future path then.” He moved forward. “Miss Cassandra, I wonder if I might walk with you for a while. Scillion is laying us a trail that I fear you cannot follow as you cannot detect her markers. It will take us deep underground, and we wouldn’t want to get lost, would we?”

“Scillion can detect the spider?”

“Scillion is from the Hangsane. She can detect Pandoril’s power—her concentration of vigor. All powerful creatures of the Hangsane can. I thought I made that quite clear.”

“Impressive,” Josh said.

Izod turned, pausing while he considered his words. “It was why Nareena gave you her necklace. Scillion smelt you. She knew you were the one causing the stir in Califire. If she could make you subservient, then it gave her time to make a choice.”

“What choice?”

“Whether to eat you or not.”

“What did she decide?” Josh asked.

“I’m not sure she’s made her mind up yet.”

They continued down, the tunnels dank, walls moist. The stench of rust filled the stale air, clawing at Josh’s lungs. His mind was awash with the new information, although much of it was confirmation of suspected theories. But even so, it was good to have that assurance he was headed in the right direction.

His mind was made up. He would base himself in Endover—or someplace close to the great mountains, and he would venture in. He would become one of these practitioners—learn how to cultivate and become powerful enough that he could protect Mythelore from any threat. There could be no rest for him all the while someone or something more powerful than him existed. As he thought, Vella grabbed his hand, holding it. She tugged, drawing his attention away from his muse.

“It’s alright,” she said. “I’ll help you. We will learn together.”

He was going to answer when it struck him he didn’t know how. A much earlier thought came back to plague him. It was of the first time he’d met her—the first couple of times she’d saved his life. It was about how she didn’t fit in with the elves—how she wasn’t like them. Then, another thought came to him. He dismissed it at first, but it grew within him until he couldn’t ignore it, and he had to face it. He stared at her, and she looked up at him, her face a picture of innocence.

“You’re not one of them, are you?” he said.

“No.” She raised her finger to her lips and shushed him, her mischievous smile spreading from ear to ear.

The vast cavern towered from rock so dark it was almost black. Pebbles surrounded a deep pool fed by a cascading waterfall. Cassandra’s white light shone brightly, the rock giving off a blue hue that made everything appear quite magical. The sound of the plunging water soothed Josh’s racing mind. He’d had nothing to do but think during their trek down. Silence had come as monotony had overtaken each of them, but the silence had brought him no rest.

He unslung his backpack, slid out his new sword and unfastened his bedroll. Each of them did the same as if camping was second nature. Vella slid into the water, swimming straight for the waterfall and treading water under it. Izod formed a dish in the rock and then filled it full of pebbles, warming them until they glowed like red-hot coals. They slowly made a workable camp, all spreading a pitch around the central fire. Eventually, Elowen asked the question on everyone’s mind.

“Are we lost?”

Izod finished unrolling his bedroll. He placed a book close to its end and then sat cross legged upon it. “Lost, no. Do I understand? Also, no.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Cassandra asked.

“It means just that. Scillion’s trail led us here. It ends at the water, and I cannot follow it further. Therefore, we will have to search the cavern and hope the path isn’t under the water.”

“So, we are lost?” Arabella asked.

“We can’t be traveling underwater,” Melody said. “The flashbangs will get wet.”

“That and we won’t be able to breathe,” Lex pointed out.

“I have full faith in Scillion to guide us where we need to be,” Izod said.

“You mean you have full faith in a monster that likes sucking people’s vigor and has just lost her entire following plus her most treasured servant,” Melody said. “What if she’s decided it’s time to find a new flock?”

“And flocked off,” Cassandra added.

“Scillion will be back. We have to be patient. Perhaps it would give Josh time to tell me about the source of his power.”

Josh pondered the request, thinking back to his declaration that it wasn’t a secret. He leaned toward Izod being a friend but was he a friend only as long as it suited his mistress. At the same time, he remembered that Nareena had joined with Scillion, so perhaps she might hold some sway, and if the creature possessed her knowledge, then she already knew.

“Why not?” He ambled to the pool and filled his water bottle, crouching and looking over the sapphire water. “It all began a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away..”

When he finished, he returned to the group’s circle, taking a small meal from Arabella. He chewed on some dried meat, the pain of the tale still with him. He disliked thinking about it. Somehow, he’d compartmentalized that part of his life and filed it away as lost.

“So you are effectively stuck here,” Izod said. “And the ring? I take it that the trinket has no intention of leaving you for someone stronger.”

It was a question that Josh had pondered numerous times, and he’d always come to the same conclusion. “No, no, I don’t think it will.”

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I can be about anything. I believe we’ve formed a partnership, and it is as invested in my advancement as I am.” He shrugged. “It’s possible we are far more integrated than I believe. The ring sees through my eyes and learns through my actions and those of others. I would only have to see you fight with that staff, and I would be proficient in it with a few practice swings.”

“Incredible,” Izod said. “So, the Hangsane holds no fear for you?”

“Quite the opposite. I’m eager for it. If I can find a teacher there—if they have such places—I would grasp the opportunity with both hands.”

“What about your duty to Mythelore?” the eunuch asked.

“My first duty is to my wives. My second duty is to the Misfits. Is Mythelore my third? I think it probably is. But make no mistake, without Cassandra’s progression and my evolution, Mythelore is the servant of the Hangsane, surviving at its whim. We can only protect it by becoming so powerful any attack isn’t worth it.”

Izod nodded. “My thoughts, too.”

“What do you know of the Hangsane?”

“I know much of the place. Scillion likes nothing more than regaling me tales of the place.”

“Is it the chaos you make it out to be?”

“Chaos? Did I say it was chaos? No.” He shook his head. “It is order of the highest magnitude. There is no chaos. There is one defining rule. The strong prosper. There is a chain, and that chain is simple. The weak serve the strong, and any that disrupt that pattern are put down like maddened dogs.”

“A power pyramid? A vast swathe of weak serving one strong ruler?”

“You could think of it like that, and I can see where you get that conclusion. Not everyone plays by the rules. From what Scillion tells me, Mythelore is widely regarded as a place that should be left alone. There is no honor in beating a weak foe. There is only honor in progression. But, in any place, there are bad actors.”

“Then tell me something. Why is Scillion in Mythelore?” Josh chewed his stick of dried meat, his gaze never wavering from Izod.

“It is as I said. She came because she sought out her worshippers.”

“Bullshit,” Josh said softly. He let the challenge sit between them momentarily. “It was something else.”

Izod shifted uneasily. “I think it is up to her to expand on her reasons.”

Cassandra sighed. “Was she driven out of the Hangsane by the nasty spiders?” She pouted and then smiled. “Was she hiding from them with all her friends?”

Izod flushed, his eyes narrowing and teeth gritted. “She did not run!”

“But she didn’t stand and fight, either,” Lex said. “She hid in her throne room while Pandoril’s servants killed all in Ginstrata. What’s really at play here, Izod? If you know, spit it out.”

“I can’t. It is not for me to spout conjecture. Know this, Scillion is on your side.”

“It is, as my Dad said.” Deep thought filled Melody’s voice. “It is as he predicted. The monsters are coming for us, and they won’t stop until they have laid waste to Mythelore.” She stood, glaring at the eunuch. “And you led us here! You trapped us in this cave to take us out of the game!”

“No!” Izod protested. “It’s not like that! It’s not like that at all.”

Josh reached for his new sword and laid it over his bent knees, resting his chin on it. “Then perhaps you’d better tell the truth. Because if you think we’re trapped, then you are wrong. I can find my way back to the surface easily.” He held up the ring. “And if you think you can stop me, then you have another thing coming.”

Izod hesitated once more. He scanned the cavern, perhaps hoping his mistress would rescue him. Josh rose, circling the group while tapping the blade’s edge on his calf. He eventually crouched, his back to the eunuch and displaying an arrogance that he could back up if needed. “I told you everything about me. I trusted you, Izod. What secrets can you have that might be worse than mine?”

“I have none. My reluctance to spill everything is only caused by my need to ask permission of my mistress.”

“But, if you fail to tell me, then you will never see your mistress again. A story that doesn’t add up is a lie or an omission. One is technically treason, while the other is deception. I have no interest in playing the King card, but I’m also done dancing around this subject. Tell me all, or we part ways now, and I return to Ginstrata. Depending on your next words, you might be alive to wave us off, or you might not be.”

“Are you leaving me with no choice?”

“Quite the opposite. I believe I gave you a choice.”

“The Hangsane is complicated.”

“You’ve been there, haven’t you,” Josh said.

“I was born there.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“THERE ARE two schools of thought regarding the rise of Ravenheart,” Izod said. “Some say a practitioner called Kalesh killed his entire colony and that the spider escaped to spend an age mulling his revenge. Others say a wizard named Arabadeshi took some interest in him and that he learned everything from him and then killed him and ate him. No one knows the truth, but they do know this. Ravenheart is real, and his power is immense.”

“By power?” Josh asked.

“The control he holds over his followers. You’ve seen it here. We can assume he ordered the destruction of Alianthia and Sillia. Whether he has ventured into Eldorwyn is unknown. Think about the reach of his web. One command passed through Pandoril caused the subjugated elves and dwarves to rise as one and kill their families, their friends and their neighbors.”

“Because one elf killed a member of his harem?”

“Because Yyladril dared attack him, yes. The Hangsane exists to a strict code. If someone wrongs you, then they pay the price until either they are dead or your servant. If you fail, you lose your standing. Some youngsters try and succeed in rising through the ranks, but they eventually meet their match, slide down a few rungs of the ladder and settle there. Such is the way of the mountains. Yyladril, by challenging Zendrod and winning, effectively declared Alianthia’s intent to usurp Ravenheart’s position. He couldn’t have chosen a worse opponent.”

“But didn’t Zendrod start it by poisoning the goblins with Zim-Zim?” Arabella asked.

“That she did. Not all in the Hangsane hold the thought that Mythelore should be left alone. Some, quite the faction, regard you all as easy pickings and rebel. Thus, you get the odd incursion. As things get more challenging in the Hangsane, those incursions grow. Zendrod hated goblins. They killed and ate her children. She bred the Zim-Zim spider to subjugate them and stop them from consuming her kin. But, she couldn’t have known that through some incredible chance, her spiders would be attracted to the scent of fermenting liquor. They fell into the barrels in their droves. Once the goblins established the unexpected ingredient that had come their way and produced a liquor they couldn’t get enough of, the wholesaled harvesting of the Zim-Zim spider occurred.”

“This all happened by chance?” Lexi asked.

“Not by chance, no. Zendrod saw potential in her loss. She modified the Zim-Zim spider again and had it reproduce in phenomenal amounts. They say one Zim-zim spider can lay a thousand eggs every ten days. Imagine that? Only the number of females born limits them.”

“That’s pretty horrific,” Josh said. “But, getting back to where we are. Yyladril killed Zendrod. Ravenheart got pissed and moved Pandoril into place, then, when they’d subjugated enough Alianthians, they ordered the slaughter of all, which spilled out into Sillia.”

“Close. It didn’t just spill into Sillia. He intended that to happen.”

“Why? Sillians supposedly hated Aliantians.”

“Yes, but Ravenheart hated Scillion, my Goddess, more.”

“Why?”

“Because he once challenged Scillion and lost. Scillion very nearly killed him. It was only Ravenheart’s quick surrender that saved him. Ravenheart licked his wounds, grew infinitely more powerful, and then hunted her down. Scillion, knowing she’d never win, fled the Hangsane.”

“Why flee and not grow stronger?”

“That is the double-edged sword called cultivation. One can get tired of it, and when that happens, you fail to progress. If you do that, what was once weaker becomes stronger and vice-versa. Scillion became old. Her desire to strengthen waned. Ravenheart was young. His need for vengeance powered him up the ranks.” Izod closed his eyes. “If the two were to meet today, I would fear for my mistress.”

“So, the Hangsane has structure,” Josh said, rejoining them around the fire.

Izod’s story was plausible, and the varying monster incursions corroborated everything he said. What interested him more was a way forward. He was confident he could beat Pandoril. If a party of elves had vanquished Zendrod, then he saw no reason their party wouldn’t win. Naturally, if cultivation worked how he thought it worked, then Pandoril would be stronger than Zendrod had been when the elves killed her, but he and Cassandra were infinitely more potent than any elf. Whether he was stronger than Scillion was another matter, and if he doubted he was stronger than Scillion, what hope did he have against Ravenheart?

“It has. There are guilds, and there are soloists. Some soloists are mavericks. Arabadeshi was one. He would practice many a frowned-on magical branch, summoning demons, succubi familiars, and beasts from beyond the flux. But, not all guilds followed the rules. Ravenheart was a member of the Seven Legs of the Dark Void before they cast him out for being too vocal in his hatred for certain human guilds.”

“Are most creatures in the Hangsane sentient?” Josh asked.

“All cultivating creatures achieve sentience and speak the common language. It is a by-product of being a practitioner—one of the first steps of The Awakening. There is sentience, then there is the recognition of mana and vigor reserves, and then comes the thirst to improve.”

“I feel that thirst,” Josh said.

“Hold on,” Lex interrupted. “Are you saying any sentient being could become one of these practitioners?”

Izod nodded. “That is what I am saying. You have to experience The Awakening.”

“How?”

“One has to be in the right mind. Plus, there is a body of thought that you must be close to The Emittance.”

“The Emmitance?”

“That is another story, but one that is pertinent. I can sum it up, but if you want more knowledge of it, others have studied the ruins.”

“Others like archaeologists?” Elowen asked, her interest piqued.

“Like those. Even a place as potentially brutal as the Hangsane has thinkers and enquiring minds. It is said that before the ruins existed, there was no cultivation. It is widely believed that something crashed into the land and caused a sudden change in every creature within a certain radius. Now, to visit the Emmitence is to awaken your dormant need to cultivate. All things begin from there.”

Lex sat up straight, the cords of her neck strained. “I must go there,” she said. “If it means I could become as strong as you, Josh, then it is something I must do. Have you been there, Izod?”

“I was fortunate enough to be born within its influence. Alas, I did not have the aptitude to press myself to become one of the best. I find more delight in service than mastery. A man must be true to himself before his ambition.”

“You can either be born or visit to become a cultivator,” Josh summed up.

“Exactly. To be born within its sphere of influence—I say sphere as it descends as well as spreads across the land—is to be considered pure. If you partake in one of the many pilgrimages, then you can cultivate but will always be inferior to the pure practitioners.”

“What is Ravenheart?” Josh asked.

“He is an abomination. My mistress says he is a three-way splice, part human, part crow, part spider. No one truly knows what makes him so, but what is known is that he isn’t Pure. He is a secondary practitioner, but you must understand that a lot of that is snobbery and does not translate to power.”

“Before the ruins existed, the Hangsane were—”

“Mountains, Josh, just plain and ordinary mountains.”

He digested the new information. “What are we thinking, girls?”

“Do you mean, do we all want to become powerful?” Lex asked. “Count me in.”

“And me,” Melody said. “A badass with bombs.” She snickered. “It would be awesome.”

“You, Arabella?”

“If we’re going to venture into the Hangsane regularly, then it would be nice to be powerful. I hate to think how pathetic I’d be.”

“Me too,” said Elowen. “I’d love to investigate the ruins and see what they are. In fact, I’d love to explore the whole of the Hangsane, and if I need to be powerful to do that, so be it.”

“Vella?”

“Don’t care. Will if all will. Don’t care if don’t.” She stood, walking to the pool and diving in. She swam out to its center. “Something’s coming,” she said and ducked under the water.

Across the pool, the cave wall exploded out, showering them with stones and rocks. A blur hurtled toward them, slowing rapidly. Izod stood, his arms spread in welcome.

“Scillion! I knew you’d not forsake us.”

The great snake opened her eyes as she settled her head on the pool’s bank. Vella surfaced, coming close to the serpent, bending and looking straight into Scillion’s eye.

“Renew,” she said, and Scillion positively glowed.

“Thank you, Child of Light and Dark. That was most welcome. It has been a long journey.”

“Did you find her lair?” Izod asked.

“I did. She concealed it well, and many goblins and spiders guard it. She is powerful, my faithful servant. She is mighty.”

“As are we,” Josh said. “Can we kill her?”

“All things can be killed, but it depends on the price you wish to pay.” Scillion turned to Izod, her great head scraping at the rock bank. “Did you spill everything you know?”

“They gave me little choice.”

Scillion chuckled. “There is always a choice, but you like the sound of your own voice, so my question was a mere formality. Its answer was obvious.”

“I told them all.”

“Even about The Awakening?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“They wish to continue.”

“Then we should go. The time for talking is over. Pandoril is regrouping. The losses she suffered from her minions straying out of her range cost her vigor. She’ll replenish it quickly.”

“Hold on,” Josh said. “I’ve got questions for you.”

“Prove yourself against my enemies, and I will answer them. For now, we must hurry to battle. Are you all ready, or do you wish to spend an eternity down here?”

Scillion stretched herself across the pool, linking the bank to the hole. Izod cooled the stones while they packed their rucksacks. Josh rolled his sleep blanket up and slid his sword back into place. Once ready, he approached the serpent. “What the fuck are we going to face?”

“Mayhem,” Scillion said. “Absolute mayhem.”

“Then we’d best be ready.”

He ran across the snake, ducking into its tunnel and loping along until he came to a larger, naturally formed tunnel. He equipped his scale armor, then unequipped it, loosened his shoulders and calmed his breath. Moving away from Scillion’s tunnel, he drew his sword and performed some shapes, noting the tunnel’s limits and adjusting his strokes, pulling where he had to, extending where he could. Satisfied, he threaded the sword between his pack’s straps.

“Okay?” Lex asked.

“Letting the ring adapt to the tunnel. I don’t know if it helps, but there’s no harm in giving it the heads up.”

“Apart from mayhem, what are we dealing with?”

Josh shrugged but said nothing.

Elowen slipped from the tunnel. “There will be a lot of smaller spiders swarming all over, goblins attacking, probably larger spiders and Pandoril. We must stop the swarm before we engage the goblins.”

“Flashbangs,” Melody said. “We use the flashbangs on the small spiders.”

“I think I could wipe them out with fireballs,” Cassandra said, poking her head out.

“They’ll be hundreds of webs. Fireballs might catch the whole place on fire,” Elowen pointed out.

“Then the tunnel will be clear,” Cassandra waltzed past them and came beside Josh. “And that is what we want, isn’t it?”

Josh chuckled. “Shock and awe, they used to call it where I came from.”

Izod dropped from the hole. “If we can make some way for Scillion, please.”

The giant snake slid from the hole. “Follow me.” She slithered away.

Josh weighed up the risks. “Cassandra, you in front. Your damage is more widespread than mine. Everyone else in the middle. I’ll take the rear. Arabella, have an arrow nocked. See a goblin, shoot a goblin. Melody, spear ready. Lex, you’re with Cassandra. Protect her if we get jumped. Izod, I reckon you’re pretty handy with that staff. You’re with me. Vella?”

“Yes?”

“Stick in the middle. We all good with that?”

“Yep,” said Lex while the others assumed their position. “I protect the most powerful sorceress in Mythelore. Makes me kind of badass.”

Cassandra banged shoulders with her. “You are Baddass, Lexi. The most badass assassin I’ve ever met.”

They followed the snake.

“How many assassins have you met?” Lex asked.

“None,” she said and shrugged. “How many sorceresses have you met?”

“None,” Lex admitted.

Cassandra held her staff in front, its jewel glowing with soft, emerald light. It illuminated the tunnel much better than the white light—less harsh on the eyes and defining the tunnel sides. Josh reached out with his sphere of perception, adding Izod and Scillion to their party. He pushed its edges into the sharp rock, into jagged creases and deep fissures. Scillion kept ranging too far forward, his vision blinking with notifications that she was out of range.

Narrow splits, steep steps, clefts and jumps, the tunnel became a crack between giant slabs of slate-like rock. Water dripped constantly, forming pools, small streams burbling past them, vanishing into holes in mini whirlpools, their vortices making strange gurgling noises.

If Scillion was trying to be stealthy, the snake did a lousy job of it. She barged through the tunnels, dislodging rockpiles and ripping up gravel beds. She collapsed her skeleton to squeeze through narrow fissures, expanding to fill tunnels when the opportunity arose, right up until they came to a cleft, the rock floor vanishing and vertical hole opening up. Cassandra lay beside her, Lexi crawling close.

“You said you needed to prepare. That is what you face,” Scillion said.

Josh looked over the edge. He could barely see into the hole. Webs spread, spanning every rock and making an eerie silver funnel. “Are we going to fit down there?” he asked.

“We’re going down there?”

“This is an access tunnel,” Scillion said. “It is the one we should approach the main nest through, but we’ll need to do it without alerting the main tunnels.”

“I’m not going down there,” Arabella said. “I hate spiders!”

Cassandra laughed. “Hate spiders? Darling, you picked the wrong mission.”

“No. I hate them, but I like killing them.”

“What are we thinking?” Josh asked.

“I could blow the fuckers up,” Melody said. “But that might just alert the main nest.”

“Fire might cause an issue,” Elowen said, “with us being higher and all.”

“I’ll freeze them,” Cassandra said. “I’ll freeze the funnel, and then we can slide down it.”

“With the spiders in place?” Arabella asked.

“They’ll be sleeping,” Cassandra said.

She closed her eyes, reaching out, grasping the air with her mind. She corrected the tunnel’s pressures until the air stilled. Then she sent her request out, asking, cajoling the air to freeze. The webs grew brittle, ice coating the silken strands. She reached deeper, freezing all as she progressed. When she reached the tunnel’s end, she spread laterally along another tunnel, and then she withdrew.

“It’s done,” she said. “We should go now.” Without waiting for a reply, she slipped into the tunnel.

“I’ll go last,” said Scillion. “Pandoril despises me. She wants me dead and is on the lookout for me.”

“Is that why you needed us to kill her?”

Scillion screwed her head around. “It is.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

JOSH SLIPPED INTO THE TUNNEL, blindly reaching for footholds, the crunch of frozen webs making him flinch. He spread his arms, forcing them against the tunnel’s sides to ease the pressure on his feet. He cleared his mind, attempting to remove the terror building inside him. Cramped spaces weren’t his favorite, but if Arabella could overcome her fear of spiders, he could force himself through.

“Fucking tunnels,” he growled. “Nothing but fucking tunnels.”

Cassandra’’s light faded as she dropped from the tunnel. Josh breathed a sigh of relief. The dark was much safer, just the green of the ring’s night vision to show him the way. Then Izod cast some magic spell or the other, and blinding white light lit up all. Small dots hung in the webs, tiny spiders frozen in place. Josh continued, his skin crawling. A single, monotone sound filled his ears, like a guitar string thrummed. He hurried, fearing something terrible was about to happen, lost his foothold and dropped, landing on the larger tunnel’s floor.

“That was shit,” he said.

Cassandra reached for him. “You’re sweating,” she said.

“It was a bit close in there.”

“But it was frozen. You shouldn’t be sweating.”

Melody dropped out, brushing herself down and pushing her goggles up. “I swear that I felt them crawling over my face.”

Cassandra slapped her cheek.

“What the fuck, Cass?”

“Spider,” she said. “Oh shit.”

Arabella screamed, dropping from the hole, slapping herself all over. “Get these fuckers off me. Get them off me!”

Cassandra hesitated. “Hang on. Let me think!”

“Now, Cass!” Arabella screamed as Melody began to slap her.

“Hold on. Get away, Mels.”

Cassandra pulled Melody away and stabbed her fingers toward Arabella, a flash of fire briefly coating her, singing her clothes and hair. “There, gone.”

“You’ve singed my fucking eyebrows!”

“No spiders,” Cassandra said, and she pulled Elowen from the tunnels, flashing her magic at the archaeologist. “There, no spiders.”

“Cas!” Elowen said. “What the hell?”

Vella dropped from the hole. “Killed them all.”

All four of them looked at the elf.

“What?” they all said.

“They were hurt. Freezing hurt them. So I took their mana.”

Lex fell from the hole. “Well, that was easy. Thanks, Cas.” She furrowed her brow. “Say, Bells, what happened to your eyebrows?”

“It was her!” Arabella said. “She didn’t freeze—”

Cassandra pressed her thumb to the top of Arabella’s nose, smoothing her brows. “There,” she said. “Fixed. Now, quit your moaning.”

“My turn,” Elowen said.

“We might want to wait until we’re out of this mess,” Josh said as Izod dropped to the floor. “Which way.”

“Nope,” Elowen said. “I might be making my maker soon, and I’m not going with my eyebrows singed to buggery.”

Scillion poked his head from the hole. “Pandoril is that way,” she said.

The tunnel stretched into the gloom; its walls coated in fine silk.

“There’s thousands of them,” Cassandra said.

“Hundreds and thousands,” Josh said. “How far to the main nest?”

“A mile,” Scillion said. “Straight along this tunnel.”

“Then the time for fucking around is over. Izod, you’re an aeromancer. I suggest you aeromance. Bring the air from behind us and force it into the tunnel. Cassandra, to shoot bursts of fire. We’re going to have ourselves a magical flame thrower.”

“But that will alert Pandril,” Scillion said.

“I got news for you. Either we alert the big spider, or we die halfway down that passage,” Josh said. “And if you don’t like my tactics, then stick in that hole. Izod, you first.”

The eunuch bowed his head, muttering quiet words. A cool breeze flowed over them, brushing the webs and vanishing into the tunnel.

“You’re up, Cassandra.”

“My pleasure. I’m pissed off with all this pussyfooting around.”

She stabbed her hands out, fire bursting from them in a torrent of roiling red. A fireball barrelled down the tunnel, its flames fanned by Izod’s wind. The webs vanished, the tunnel’s walls black with soot. Josh pursed his lips.

“Seems to work,” he said, drew his sword and marched up to Cassandra. “Let’s find this nest.”

“Hell yeah!” she said, sending another fireball down the tunnel.

“Izod, increase the breeze. I think we’re beyond subtlety now.”

“Certainly seems that way,” the eunuch agreed. “And I find this way more exhilarating.”

“Arabella, ready with your bow. Melody, flashbang primed. Remember, see a goblin, kill a goblin. See a gang of them, throw the flashbang and look away.”

“You got it,” Melody said, lowering her goggles again.

“I’m on it,” Arabella replied, taking down her bow and knocking an arrow.

The stench of fried webs and burned spiders filled the air, Izod’s breeze fanning the flames. They moved quickly but cautiously, Josh’s sphere of protection reaching into every crack and crevass. Their attack proved efficient, not a living spider was left.

“I think the tunnel ends up there,” Josh said, sensing the walls parting.

“Maybe another lateral passageway,” Elowen said.

“Scillion?”

“I haven’t been that far.”

“Cassandra, douse the flame for a moment,” Josh said.

“We’re close,” Scillion muttered, slithering along behind them. “I can feel her hatred.”

Cassandra pulled in her magic. The smoke vanished at the tunnel’s end, a charred wall facing them. A heavy silence fell. Cassandra paused. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” she said.

“Me too,” said Arabella, her arrow trained on the wall.

“Did you hear that?” Elowen asked.

“Scuttling. Chattering. Spiders and goblins,” Josh said.

“Bring it on,” Cassandra raced forward, screaming, reaching the passageway’s end and sending a fireball one way and then the other. Josh ran after her, hurdling a blazing spider as big as a rabbit, and he brought his sword down on one double the size. “You take that side. I’ll take this,” he said, then looked toward his enemies. “Scale armor.”

His armor covered him. He stepped forward.

A single spider took up the whole tunnel, its hairy legs rubbing together before it sprang for him. Josh brought his sword across his body, slicing the spider’s leading legs. He reversed it, sliding the blade through the spider’s body and cutting its front clean off. He stabbed the swordpoint into the ichor as a blunt sword smashed into his leg.

He kicked out, turning the blade and bringing his sword down on a filthy green arm. Severing it, he reached and dragged the screaming goblin out, running it through before tossing the corpse aside. He stepped on the dead spider, its guts squelching under him, and drove his sword into two more goblins.

“Need some light over here,” he said.

“You got it,” Cassandra said, bursts of heat coming from her side.

“Room for one more in that tunnel?” Lex asked, coming beside Josh.

“You got it,” Josh said, as Vella’s first renew flowed through him.

They fought in unison, goblins falling, coating the rock in their slick, black blood. Each of the creatures moved languidly, their eyes as black as tar. Josh’s blade ripped through one’s neck, his spider tattoo cut in half as his head rolled away. Black blood pooled on the floor, severed limbs, spider guts, making the way treacherous. They moved forward, the passage widening, goblins and spiders coming in from the sides, the scramble desperate.

Melody jumped in, her spear poking and impaling as they entered a huge passage, ten or twenty feet across, at least fifty high. Spiders the size of lions scampered down the walls. Hundreds of goblins surged toward them. Josh redoubled his efforts, the fear of them swamping him driving him on. “Fall back into the tunnel,” he told Melody and Lex.

“But what?”

“Protect the others! I have my armor!” Josh surged forward, goblins and spiders surrounding him. He fell into a rhythm, his new blade so easy and light when compared to the old. He moved swiftly and gracefully, killing goblins by the score, decapitating one spider after the next.

Across the cavern, Cassandra’s magic blasted charred paths in the beasts, the stench of burning flesh filling Josh’s nostrils. Something arced over him.

“Fire in the hole!” Melody shouted.

Josh carried on fighting, closing his eyes and using his perception to locate his targets. A colossal explosion buffeted him, reverberating throughout the cavern. The ringing in his ears put him off momentarily, but Vella’s heal quickly crushed it. The squeals of thousands of spiders replaced the ringing, the howls of a hundred goblins mixing into the confusion. Josh took advantage of their confusion, plowing through their ranks, his sword stokes flowing like never before.

The Izod joined him, his staff a blur. Arabella sprung from the tunnel, her bow singing. Cassandra’s magic ripped into the milling creatures, one setting light to another, their cries growing. Then Scillion entered the scene, her mouth wide, chomping down and tossing corpses aside. The great serpent spread her length along the cavern and then began to roll back and forth, crushing all under her great weight.

Josh adapted his stance, driving the goblins and spiders toward the mammoth snake. Cassandra herded them with her magic, the cavern quickly emptying of the creatures as Scillion crushed one after the other. Arabella picked off stragglers, as did Lex and Melody, while Vella healed and renewed.

And then silence fell, and they stared around, hunting more beasts to kill, but all Pandoril’s servants lay dead, crushed to a pulp, decapitated, pinned with arrows or stabbed by Melody’s spear.

Silence fell once more, but a welcome one. Josh dropped to his knees, not gasping for breath, not tired at all. “Why do I get the feeling that was round one?” he said.

“What?” Arabella asked, crouching by him.

“The start,” he said grimly.

Scillion slithered up beside them. “Are we ready? It appears your fireworks worked quite well. I’d suggest much of the same. Her nest is that way. You fought well, all of you. Now I see how you destroyed the leviathan.”

“You didn’t do so bad yourself, but I thought you might have some godlike powers.”

“I think we both know I’m not a true god, but sometimes, when you are more powerful than your peers, you can get away with it.”

“I feel more comfortable having a goddess with us,” Josh said. “Cassandra, lead the way. Izod, can you provide a following wind, please.”

“I will fan the flames of Cassandra’s destruction,” Izod said theatrically.

Cassandra led the way into the vast passage. Great walls towered, the rock rippled like marble, pocked with tunnels, shelves jutting. Spiders scampered across the distant ceiling. Goblins poked their heads out and quickly pulled them back in when Cassandra sent a fireball up. She paused. What are they waiting for?”

“Something,” Josh said, his sword leveled. “Do you hear that?”

“What?” Cassandra asked.

“I can,” Vella said, skipping along beside them.

Thump!

“That,” Josh said.

“I can hear it now.”

Thump!

“Something’s coming,” Elowen said.

“Something huge.”

Thump!

“If that’s a spider, we’re in trouble,” Melody said.

“Flashbang at the ready,” Josh said.

Thump!

Josh squinted. “I think I can see something.” His vision clouded with red. “No, something’s definitely coming.”

“Oh, fuck,” Cassandra said.

The scrape of dragged chains joined the metronomic thump. A cyclops, its back slightly bent, eye yellow, crazed with blood vessels, lumbered towards them. Rags barely covered its body. Puss-filled sores wept, scabs breaking as they twisted with every step. It held a massive club in one hand and a broken spear in the other. Manacles locked around his ankles, broken chains attached to them, his feet black and nails yellow.

“How the fuck did that get down here?” Josh asked.

“Does it matter?” Cassandra said, sending a fireball toward it, the flames exploding onto its skin but dissipating, snuffed out instantly. “Seems it has some magical resistance.”

“An arrow to the eye?” Josh suggested as the ogre began trotting.

“On it,” Arabella said. She nocked an arrow, sending it straight at the ogre. It smashed into his eyeball, bending the cornea before springing out. “Shit,” she muttered.

“Bring him down, Scillion,” Josh said.

The cyclops ran, its mouth twisted into an evil grin. It let out a growl. “Aaargh!”

“Bring him down?” Scillion said.

“Slither in front of the fucker and trip him up!”

“Everyone, over to the side!” Cassandra held her ground as Scillion slithered past her. Stretching her arms, the sorceress grimaced, then let out a scream, falling to one knee as a huge ice shard formed in her hands. Josh understood. He willed her spell to complete as he raced back out, standing behind her, his sword ready.

Scillion threw herself across the passage, rippling her body and catching the cyclops’ feet. The beast flew forward, dropping his broken spear but raising his mighty club and bringing it down on Cassandra. She braced, holding the ice shard in place. Josh dropped his sword, raising his arms and reaching for the club.

Cassandra dove forward, planting the shard in place. Josh dove with her, switching his focus to the cyclops’ head. It slammed into him as the ice shard pierced its eye, and the club smashed onto the rock beyond them with a thunderous bang.

Fluid drenched him as he strained to keep the ogre’s head from crushing Cassandra. The beast twitched and spasmed, its head pressing down, crushing. Josh fell to one knee, barely able to hold it up. “Get out!” he cried.

“I think we have more problems,” Cassandra said as a flashbang exploded, and the sound of chittering erupted all around them.

Cassandra rolled out, coming to one knee, fire spewing from her hands. “Get out! Get out, Josh!”

Josh dove, rising to chaos. Giant spiders the size of horses skittered everywhere. Scillion thrashed around, crushing some and biting others. Izod swung his staff like a bat, any pretense of style gone.

“Here!” cried Arabella, tossing him his sword.

“Fire in the hole!” Melody screamed again, throwing another flashbang.

Josh turned away from it, slicing a spider in two as it reared, ready to bite him. Lex took out another, ducking and holding her ears as the flashbang exploded. Josh turned, quickly stepping back as a goblin attacked him. Its rusty blade barely dented his scale armor. Josh drew back his sword, but the goblin imploded, its lifeforce vanishing as it crumpled into an empty husk.

“Needed more mana,” Vella said.

“Well, fill your boots,” Josh told her. “You harvest all the mana you can.”

“Okay,” she said. “What boots?”

“Fill my boots.” Josh spun around, decapitating a goblin. He jumped on the fallen cyclops, crouching, fending off a reaching goblin. “Up here, everyone. Fight from up here.”

He pulled Vella up, then Arabella and Melody.

“Fire in the hole!” Melody shouted. “Fire in the hole!” she repeated, tossing a second flashbang.

“Everybody up! Everybody up!”

He pulled Lex to him, then Cassandra, but several spiders blocked Elowen’s way.

“Cover me!” Josh said, jumping with his eyes shut. The flashbangs exploded as he landed. He opened his eyes, carving a way through stunned spiders. He grabbed Elowen, pulling her toward the cyclops. “Get over here, Izod!”

He backed into Elowen as she scrambled onto the cyclops. The eunuch fought his way to the corpse, Cassandra clearing the goblins around him. Josh shoved and sliced a path through to Scillion. Great tears stripped her body. Spears stuck out at odd angles. Josh jumped on her, riding her like a horse. “To the cyclops!” he told her. “Cassandra! Do something!”

“You got it,” she said.

Scillion slithered close as Vella filled Cassandra with mana. The Harmonic growled in anger, shouting her spell and pulling great rocks from the passage’s ceiling. They rained down on the spiders and goblins, crushing them to pulp and burying them. Turning, she brought the roof down behind them, then fell to her knees, head bowed.

Josh ran along Scillion, finishing off the mangled survivors. Silence fell once more, and Josh took a breath. “That was too close,” he said.

Scillion eased herself out from the mess, settling on top of the ruined passageway. Ominous creaks and groans sounded from above. Izod looked up. “Are we sure that’s safe?”

“Will be when I put the rocks back,” Cassandra said and snapped her fingers.

Each rock rose, floating upward like time itself was reversing. Bits of spider and goblin rained down as the rocks and boulders slotted back into place.

“I thought I was a geomancer,” Izod said. “But that is an incredible display of power.”

“I think,” Scillion added. “Someone might be at home in the Hangsane.”

Josh looked out over the carpet of mashed flesh. He’d never seen anything so horrific in all his life. He took a breath, then another. He accepted Vella’s renew, as he sat on the corpse of the defeated cyclops.

“Is anyone else hungry?” Melody said. “I’ve got some jerky.”

Chapter Thirty

THEY MOVED FORWARD. An empty sound filled the lofty tunnel. Gone were its jagged edges, its shelves and balconies. Gone were the skittering spiders and the filthy goblins. Only emptiness remained.

“Are you sure she’s still here?” Josh asked.

“She knows we’re coming, but she’s sent her army, and we’ve beaten it. She has limited options,” Scillion said.

“Then, why doesn’t she run back to Ravenheart.”

“Billivar Ghorst,” she said. “Death’s Black Wings—that is Ravenheart. He will not tolerate failure. Her life is forfeit if she returns to him.”

“He would murder an entire country to revenge one dead wife and kill another for failing? That makes no sense,” Cassandra said.

“On the contrary, Ravenheart is a highly desirable mate. He’ll have no problem filling his harem. He would have a problem if he showed weakness. Vendrod died fighting her corner. Pandoril must do the same, or she has brought shame on him. He will not tolerate that. His enemies would rise as one and see him disposed.” Scillion slithered forward. “I would relish the battle. Vella has healed me, and I’m feeling stronger than I have for a very long time.”

“You might want to take her on,” Josh said, “but I’ll not allow it. The purpose of any monster battle is simple. We take down the monster with the minimum fuss and as little chance of death as possible. You trying to regain your standing in the Hangsane doesn’t work for me.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“I can and I will. If you’re hellbent on killing yourself here, then I’m afraid I’ll have to get Vella to drain you of your vigor until you’re too tired to move. Or—”

“Or?”

“Or we can take down this beast, and we can go after Ravenheart. He’s the true prize.”

“You would venture after him?”

“I would need a guide—someone who knows a back way into his lair.”

Scillion smacked her great lips together. “I know a way.”

“Then don’t get yourself killed.”

The snake pondered her options. “What’s the plan?”

“You know Pandoril. List her weak points.”

“Hold on a moment.” Elowen rummaged in her rucksack and pulled out a pencil and paper. “Right, go.”

Scillion let out a long groan as she mulled her response. “Pandoril is a higher tier spider and a cultivator. She will be much stronger and faster than any creature you’ve come across so far. She will be agile—able to twist herself into implausible shapes and jump at strange angles. Direct magical attacks won’t work unless you can break through her resistance. She’d have built that up over time, though I doubt she’d have encountered too many wizards of late, and certainly not of the caliber of Cassandra. She will have strong poison attacks and sharp mandibles, and her constitution will be high. She’s killable, but it won’t be easy.”

“Okay, folks,” Josh said. “Thoughts on an attack plan.”

“Where is she?” Cassandra asked.

Scillion flicked her body around, poking her tongue down the tunnel. “She’ll be at the end of this passage in a belled-out cavern. Her web will span it, but she will wait elsewhere, concealed and ready to pounce. Her venom, once injected, incapacitates its victim, causing them to enter a stupor. She’ll then bind them and stick them to her web, ready to rinse them of their vigor and mana before eating them. We must avoid that at all costs.”

“I propose we give her what she wants,” Cassandra said.

“And what’s that?”

“Her.” She pointed at Scillion.

“My dad always says, if you want to catch a fish, you give it what it wants,” Arabella said. “As Cassandra says, it came for Scillion. Let’s give her what she wants.”

“You wish to use me as bait?” Scillion asked.

“That’s precisely what we do,” said Arabella. “She wants to fight close to her web. You must get her to come out.”

“She’ll know I’m trying to lure her out.”

“Then,” said Josh, “you must think of a way to piss her off.”

“To what?”

“To make her want to reach down your throat and pull your asshole out.”

Scillion chuckled. “I think that will be quite easy. She hates me with a passion.”

Josh rubbed his hands together. “So, everyone else. Now we’ve offered Scillion up to Pandoril, how do we kill the fucker?”

Melody raised her hand, bringing out a small round ball with a length of string hanging out of it. “Something me and Dad have been working on. You pull the string out, then throw—”

“I know what it is!” Josh said, his eyes wide and mouth open. “It’s a grenade.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Melody said smugly. “It’s a ball that explodes when you throw it.”

He closed his eyes, still grinning, then grabbed her cheeks and kissed her. “Exactly,” he said. We call it a grenade where I come from, and it is fantastic for mid-range combat.”

“Let’s talk positions,” Elowen said. “Josh, you’re forward with Scillion. I’d suggest heavy armor.”

“It kills my agility too much.”

“You’ll suffer if she gets you.”

“No pain, no gain,” he said, grinning.

“You’re insufferable.” She scribbled something down. “Bells, you’re ranged with Cassandra. Melody, me and Izod are out of the picture from a close-quarter combat perspective.” She glanced at the eunuch. “I’m assuming you’re ill-matched in power against the likes of Pandoril?”

“I would lay down my life for my queen.” He sniffed the air, tossing his head back.

“Yes, well, that’s very nice and quite chivalrous, but entirely unnecessary. Mels, how many of those grenade things have you got?"

"Six.”

“Okay. We’ll take up a high position. I’ll spot the target. You throw the grenade. You, Izod, are responsible for getting it to hit its mark. If it looks like it’s falling short, use your aeromancy to push it further. If it's going left, make it go right. If it lands and has to roll, move the rock under it with your geomancy. Got it?”

Izod huffed. “I can do that and perhaps a little more. You are right. My magical disciplines will be of more use than my close-quarter combat skills in this instance.”

“Lex, you take the rear—out of harm’s way, but close enough. You act as defense should something unexpected happen, and you play the assassin. If you see an opening, sneak and take it.”

“Got it.”

“Good,” said Elowen. “We’re all set.”

“Me?” Vella said.

“You?” Elowen shrugged. “You do your thing. It always works whatever situation we face.”

“Do that then.” She jumped up. “Let’s get spidey.”

Josh rose, ready to put his scale armor on but wanting to delay until they were close. It gave him huge benefits, but it also had one drawback. He couldn’t take the helmet off. It was that little quirk that kept him from wearing it in any potentially dodgy situation. He quickly accessed his menus, wondering if there was a workaround.

Josh: Is there any way I can equip my scale armor without the helmet and add the helmet as needed?”

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: When the host deploys scale armor, it is to prevent injury. Why would the host not wish to protect his head?

Josh: It restricts my field of vision and ability to interact with other party members.

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: Seeking solution.

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: Solution.

1. Call has been modified to full or partial scale armor.

2. Equip helm will complete scale armor.

3. Helm modified to include enhanced vision, hearing and voice magnification.

Josh: Thank you. By the way, is there any way to advance without getting myself mangled?

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: The host is an unfamiliar organism. Deficits must become apparent for fixes to become available. Passive gains are constantly made through observation, but faster increases occur during combat.

Josh: So that’s a big fat no, then.

Tremelox-Alpha-Four: Yes.

“Call partial scale armor,” Josh said.

His armor formed around him minus his helm.

“Been talking to your little friend?” Cassandra asked.

“Yeah, told it I didn’t always want the helmet on. It didn’t quite understand it.”

“But it did it.”

“Yup, and it’s upgraded my helmet to improve my vision. Hopefully, I won’t have the blind spots I had.”

“Hadn’t you best try it out now rather than wait until we’re in deep?”

Josh looked around, feeling everyone’s gaze on him. “You know, that might not be a bad idea.”

“Equip helm.”

His helmet grew from his skin, racing up his neck and chin to quickly cover his entire head. Josh’s legs immediately gave way as a feeling of intense dizziness took him.

“Fuck,” he said, pushing himself to his knees and immediately collapsing back to the floor.

“No need to shout. We’re just here,” Arabella said, but her words battered his eardrums like she was using a megaphone.

“You’re shouting too,” he said, but he had bigger problems.

He could see Izod staring down at him. He could see Arabella’s concerned look and Cassandra’s creased brow. Which, ordinarily, wouldn’t bother him. But he could also see his feet and the passage’s roof.

“I can see everything,” he whispered.

“What?” Arabella asked, crouching by him.

“I told Tremelox that the helm restricted my view, muffled my hearing and made my commands harder to hear. I think it’s— No, I know it’s changed. I can see to the side.” He looked at her, seeing Cassandra behind him as well. “I’m looking at you, but I can see Cassandra and Elowen too. Cassandra is poking her tongue out, and Elowen is making that face where she scrunches her nose up like there’s a bad smell on her lips.”

“I am not!” Elowen said, unscrunching her nose.

“You can really see Cassandra?”

“Yep.”

“What am I doing now?” Cassandra asked.

“You just flashed your tits at me.”

Izod coughed. “Yes, well, erm, does this cause a problem? Will you need time to adapt?”

Josh tried to stand. Arabella reached to help him up, causing him to recoil when it felt like he was getting attacked from the side. He took a breath, his confidence growing. His vision was entire, both three-hundred and sixty degrees and above. He could see his feet, the curve of his ass. “This is a headfuck,” he said, still a little unsteady. “But I’m getting used to it quickly. The ring’s allowing me to adapt.” He took a step forward, then back, forward again and back. “Okay, I’m adapting.”

“Fascinating,” Izod said.

“Okay.” Josh pulled his sword from his backpack and tried some strokes, nearly falling, then gaining his footing. He spun around, his vision blurring momentarily before quickly setting. He lunged one way, switched and lunged the other. “Okay, I think we’re all adapted. Lex, can you spar with me?”

“Sure.”

She took up her stance in front of him, attacking. He countered, backing away and shutting out his rear vision. He allowed her to retreat, then burst forward, focusing on her but trying to bring in his side vision as well. He looked out for markers while focusing on Lex. It was weird—an information overload—but he gradually expanded his focus until he was aware of each of Lex’s strokes while keeping an eye on everything around him.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he said, falling to one knee while calming his exhausted mind. He blinked, but his vision remained unaffected. He closed his eyes but could still see. “That is just plain odd.”

“What is?” Melody asked.

“I can see with my eyes shut.”

“You’re turning into a freak,” Melody said.

“Don’t I know it?” He stood. “Right, Lex, you attack me from the front. Izod, can you attack from behind? Let’s see if this really works. Let’s see if I can focus on more than one thing at a time.”

“Are you sure?” Izod asked.

“Positive.”

He moved into the passageway’s center, Lex following and positioning herself for an attack. Izod stood behind him, staff at the ready. Josh circled, getting used to them staying exactly where they were but somehow knowing their position in relation to his direction. Once he faced Lex again, she attacked. He met her blade, holding it on his before disengaging, spinning, and countering Izod’s thrust. He jumped back, holding his stomach in. Izod’s staff passed harmlessly by, but Lex’s attack smashed onto his scale armor, cutting into it, blood seeping from a cruel gash.

“That must be some blade to get through this,” Josh muttered as Vella healed him.

“It sliced through goblins like they were made of soft cheese,” she said.

“Okay, I need better speed to keep up. Let’s go again.”

Lex attacked without answering. Josh met her blade once more, countered and attacked. As he attacked, Izod broke from behind, bringing his staff forward in a furious assault. Josh pushed Lex away, rolling and coming to his feet away from Izod’s attack. He brought his sword down on the eunuch’s back, turning the blade at the last moment to barely miss him. Lex thrust her sword at Josh’s exposed side, but he saw that coming too and parried, deflecting her sword behind his back. It left her chin perilously exposed. He brought his fist around, aiming a punch at it, only to open it at the last moment and turn it into a harmless slap. Izod sank to his knees, sweeping his staff around to take Josh’s legs away, but once again, Josh saw it coming, evading it easily and stroking his sword onto Izod’s neck.

He pulled his sword, holding his hand up to stop the fight. “I think I have the hang of it,” he said.

Izod used his staff to push himself up. “I think you have an enormous advantage now. With a little more speed and agility, you’ll be as good as any in the Lower Hangsane.”

Josh crouched, quickly regaining his breath. “But not the upper.” He thought back to their previous conversations. “If we can get everyone to the ruins and awaken their cultivation, then we’ll be invincible in Mythelore.”

Izod crouched by him. “I suspect you already are,” he said.

“Why did you stop your cultivation?”

“I thought I told you? I joined Scillion’s service.”

“Yeah, you said that. But what stopped you from continuing? Surely serving Scillion allows you time to continue training.”

“It does, and I could, but as I said, if you strive to climb a ladder, there are many who would stamp on your head and have you fall away. I chose to step away, to maintain my disciplines and live a more peaceful life.”

Josh stared down the passageway. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Even a peaceful life has its challenges. Shall we go kill a spider?”

“I think so.”

“By the way, your voice has adapted to the helmet. You aren’t shouting anymore.”

“Good to know.”

They rose. Scillion slithered ahead with Cassandra and Josh at her side, Lex a little behind. Arabella peeled off to one side while Elowen, Melody and Izod veered toward the other side.

“You up for it?” Josh asked Cassandra.

“Yep. I’m going to try and break through her resistance. You need to give me the time.”

“Going to try my best.”

“Your heart beating like a drum, or is it just me?” she asked.

“You’ll be fine,” he said.

“Just me, then.”

“Let’s go and kill a cultivator.”

“Now, there’s a first.” She smiled. “It’s been a blast.”

“Nope,” he said. “It is a blast, and it will continue to be.”

Cassandra joined Arabella, pulling some steps out of the rock and climbing.

“Just you and me, Scillion. Just you and me.”

Chapter Thirty-One

THEY REACHED a grand archway at the passage’s end. Red glowed, bleeding from it like blood mist. A spider’s web spanned its walls, threads as thick as rope, and bones littered black flags thick with dust. The faint thrumming sound Josh had noticed earlier returned. They paused, all realizing that their plan wasn’t detailed enough to choreograph their next move.

“I guess we walk straight in,” Josh said.

“And if she’s hiding above the arch, what then?” Scillion observed.

“Good point.”

“Only one of us has eyes on the top of their head,” the snake pointed out.

Josh inclined his head. “Yours are pretty close but point taken.” He mulled the situation. “We need to piss her off, and I can be pretty annoying when I have to be. What say I stroll in there and bait her enough to get her to come out? I’m itching to use my new voice.”

“I’m amenable to that.”

“We’ll do that then. Hopefully, she’ll see me as inconsequential and turn her back on me to get to you.”

“We’ll see. She’s no fool. She’ll know a practitioner when she sees one.”

“But I’m not a practitioner. Maybe I won’t give off the same vibe.”

He strode forward, sword in hand, blade lowered. As he came to the arch, his red-misted vision became deeper, pulsing faster, then adding a blue layer, then a mauve.

“So,” he muttered. “Physical, poison and magic. The holy trinity!”

Josh edged forward, coming under the arch, pressing his back against its cold pillar and looking in. The round chamber was huge, rising to a domed ceiling embellished with a giant, black spider, identical to the tattoos he’d seen on the elves’ necks.

“Is anyone home?” he shouted, his voice resonant and as loud as thunder. “Only we’ve come quite a long way to kill you. It’d be a shame if you’ve run back to your hubby.”

He crept further in, scanning the walls and webs for the spider.

A pair of deep, golden eyes blinked into existence in the center of the empty web. “Who dares come into my lair?” Her voice was precise. It held no malice or anger.

“I think you know. You sent your minions to destroy us, but—” He grimaced. “We killed them. Killed all of them. I'm afraid they just weren’t good enough.”

Pandoril’s body slowly resolved, morphing from transparent into a deep, satin black with a glistening, blue-striped thorax. She was easily twenty feet in diameter, her fangs dripping venom onto the flagstone floor, steam hissing as they bit the stone.

“You killed them all? How could you have upset our plans so much? You? A pathetic human?”

Josh strode forward, trying to display nonchalance even though his legs shook and his heart kept skipping a beat. “Well, I’d like to take the credit, but the truth is that I did a bit, a tiny little bit. After all, I am from Mythelore. I’m not comparable to the great cultivators of the Hangsane. I had a friend do the heavy lifting. You know her, by all accounts. I think you are a little… What words suit? Perhaps scared, yes, scared of her?”

“I’m scared of no one!” Pandoril roared “A friend?” She scampered closer.

Josh took a step back. “Woah there! I’m just the messenger. She wanted me to ask you a question.”

“Who? What question.”

“She wanted to know if you’d fight her.” He shrugged. “And me as well, I suppose—since I’m here.”

“You would not be worthy. Who demands I kill them?”

“You know.” He teased out the last word, making it sound like a squeaky door opening.

“Scillion!” she cursed, scampering down the web and dropping to the floor.

Josh jumped back. “Wow, you’re a big one. What are you? Ten feet tall?”

Pandoril shuffled around, facing Josh, her mandibles clicking, constantly moving like she was assessing the best way to eat him. “I could crush you like a bug,” she said.

“You could,” Josh agreed, backing into the archway. “But your fight’s not with me. You’d get no advancement for killing me. Doubt the big guy would even forgive you for losing your whole army.”

“Armies can be replaced. Even these bodies can be harvested to feed the rest of our host. My army was about to harvest all those wonderful dead bodies as we invade. They’ll still be ripe for eating when the rest of the host uses my nest to portal in.”

“There are plenty of bodies but few living. You can’t replace an army really quick. Spiders, maybe, but elves and dwarves, not so quick. Would Ravenfart be impressed if you killed Scillion?” He pointed his thumb behind him. “She’s that away.”

“Don’t you dare besmirch the King Cultivator. He will lead our invasion and establish a new stronghold with easy access to Hangsane and your land. He will conquer yours easily and have sufficient resources to rule Hangsane!”

Josh chuckled. “Oh, I doubt he’s that all that. If he were, his army wouldn’t have died in Sillia. The elves wouldn’t have slaughtered Vendrod. Rumor is, it’s open season on you lot. Sounds like he’s running away from the real fight in Hangsane.”

He backed away some more.

She skittered toward him. “Enough!” she said, rearing on her hind legs, blue sparks crackling between her mandibles. “Begone!”

She fell forward, a bolt of blue magic swirling around Josh. Every muscle in his body spasmed, clenching as an electric shock raged through him. He dropped to one knee, waiting for it to pass, then stood. “Not bad, but I’ve had worse.” He lunged forward, stroking his blade across and taking a chunk from her closest leg. Rolling to one side, he evaded her strike, ducking back into the archway but thinking better of it.

Scillion reared, announcing herself with a hiss. “Pandoril, we meet finally!”

Pandoril howled in rage, lunging for the snake, seemingly forgetting Josh, and leaving her sanctuary.

“Shut the archway, Cassandra!” Josh shouted, pointing to the arch.

Pandoril must have sensed the trap. She tried to retreat, but Cassandra pulled down a rock wall and sealed the entrance. The great spider screamed as the rock crushed her two rear legs. Josh backed away, sensing another magical attack might incapacitate him. Pandoril ripped her trapped legs from the rock, snapping them at the joints. She faced Scillion.

“Had to bring some friends, Scillion. Have you forgotten your honor?”

Scillion chuckled. “These folks don’t like fighting fairly. They like winning. I’m thinking of changing my attitude.”

“You disgrace your guild.” Her legs crackled again, the blue magic building.

“My guild is no more. I fight for myself.”

“My turn,” Arrabella shouted as an arrow thumped into Pandoril’s thorax. Lex appeared from nowhere, slicing a side leg clean off and then vanishing back against the wall.

“Fire in the hole!” Melody called and threw one of the grenades. It rolled under the great spider with an ominous chink.

Cassandra sent a magical bolt to the creature, forming a shimmering golden wall between the spider and the others. The grenade exploded, blowing a hole in Pandoril’s side, ichor splattering Cassandra’s wall before the sorceress waved it from existence. The sorceress sent a bolt of focused magic at the practitioner's front legs, but it crackled around them and sank to the floor.

“Get her mandibles, Lex!” Josh shouted, darting in and chopping as the spider’s blue magic grew.

Hacking one clean off, the magic spilled on the floor, racing up his unprotected feet. He fell as her spell raged through him once more.

“Got the other,” Lex screamed, appearing then fading back against the rock.

“Fire in the hole!” Melody cried again.

“No, Josh!” Lex shouted.

“Too late,” Josh cried. “Get away, I’ll be fine!” He called for his heavy armor as another grenade rolled under Pandoril.

The spider reared, trying to strike, but with only stumps for back legs, she fell. The grenade exploded with a muffled boom, showering Josh with guts and ichor. His bots went into overdrive, desperate to heal him.

“Renew,” Vella said, casting the spell from close by.

“Get back, Vella, she’s not done!” Josh shouted.

“Spidey done,” Vella said and sucked in her breath. “She’s done.” Vella exhaled, her breath black and sooty. “Shame.”

“What did you do?” Josh asked, unequipping his armor.

“Made her death easier. Enemies shouldn’t suffer,” she said.

“And the black breath?”

Vella cupped her hand. “Spidey’s corruption. Her soul was dark.”

Josh sat, waiting for his breath to return. “Short and sweet, just the way I like it. Lex? You good?”

Lex sauntered over. “This sword is a beast. It took a leg and a mandible with one stroke. What the fuck is it made of?”

“It is steel, like many others,” Izod said, bowing to Josh. “No honor has been gained here, but I suspect that wasn’t your intention.”

“My intention is to grow and survive. Honor makes a good headline on a gravestone.”

“Once again, I have no idea what you are saying, but I somehow understand. Do you always speak in riddles?”

“I come from a different place. We have different things,” he said, finally trusting his feet enough to get up. “That was good teamwork, folks. Shame it was resistant to magic. We’ll have to work on that.”

“You have killed one of Ravenheart’s chosen. You’ll get another chance to test yourself,” Scillion said.

“But did we pass this test?”

“You did. You did very well. Pandoril was no pushover. To kill her is beyond many. Yyladril lost a fair number taking on Vendrod with his army, and she was nowhere near as powerful as this one. You killed her with seven. I fear myself and Izod did little.”

“Imagine what they’d be like if they were cultivators,” Josh said. “Cassandra, get rid of the wall. Let’s have a look in her lair.”

Cassandra made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “I doubt there’ll be loot.”

Melody pulled a bottle from her rucksack. “There’s loot everywhere. I’ll bet this poison will make Arabella’s arrows deadly.” She began milking the spider’s venom.

Josh wandered inside, taking his time looking around. “This web any good for rope?”

“Hold on,” Melody said. “I’ll have a look.”

He circled the dome, seeing nothing, then noticing some runes. “I wonder what these are,” he said.

Elowen took out some paper, pressed it against them, and then rubbed charcoal on it. “I’ll compare it to the portal stones when we get back to the carriages, but it looks a pretty good match.”

“You sure?”

“My mind’s a bit foggy, but I’m fairly positive.”

“So this place could be one big portal?” Cassandra said.

“It would make sense that she could travel from here to Ravenheart’s lair and back.” Arabella crouched. “Yeah. They look familiar.”

“Then we destroy it,” Josh said.

“Why?” Cassandra asked. “It could take us straight to Ravenheart.”

“Because another of his wives could port it and start over. We don’t know how to use the portal. They do. She did mention something about using the nest in their invasion.”

“Then we melt to stone and destroy the chamber,” Cassandra said.

Vella cast renew on Josh. “Best to destroy,” she said.

He regarded her, sure she was getting stronger and more confident. But before he could say anything, a familiar voice sounded inside his head.

Basic attributes deemed inadequate

Basic senses deemed adequate

Working on solutions to enhance existing attributes

Strength – adequate

Speed and agility – poor

Durability – adequate

Combat instinct – adequate

Arcane resistance – extremely poor

Poison resistance – adequate

Assessing requirements to protect the host

Upgrading speed and agility

Speed and agility +1

Upgrading arcane resistance

Arcane resistance +2

New Score =

Strength = 44

Speed and Agility = 35

Durability = 36

Combat instinct = 34

Arcane resistance = 37

Poison resistance = 40

Average = 37.66

Senses

Advanced intuitive hazard detection activated

Sub branches

Advanced physical threat detection – red

Advanced arcane threat detection – mauve

Advanced poison threat detection - blue

Rank = Novice Enforcer

Current Tier = Silver Vanguard

Title = Silver Vanguard of the Novice Enforcer

He shook his head to clear his mind. “Just got some points. Speed and arcane—both good calls,” he said. “I need more speed now I can see everything in battle. I’ll be so much more effective. Arcane? Pandoril’s magic ripped through me, probably.”

“Are you near an evolution?” Arabella asked.

“Getting closer now we’re not screwing around with baby leviathans.”

Cassandra chuckled. “Darling, there was nothing small about that beast.”

Josh stretched out on his bed. He’d bathed, they’d all fucked, life was good. He didn’t want to move. Vella tucked her head into his armpit. Arabella draped her leg over him, and Cassandra paraded around naked, which was a delight to see.

“I must make the delay shorter,” Melody said, prompting confused looks from everybody as they were all bathing in their relaxed, postcoital euphoria.

“What delay?” Lex said with a sigh. She got up and picked a round of bread from a bowl, ripping it in half and shoving most into her mouth. Josh wanted to sit up—to get a better view of her, but he didn’t want to disturb Arabella and Vella either. He’d seen the assassin naked before, of course, but it was still new enough to be treasured with every opportunity.

“On the grenades. How do they work in your world?”

“You pull a pin out and throw. At least, that’s what I saw in the films. Never done it myself.”

“A couple of things,” Lex said, turning and giving him a full frontal view of her gravity-defying breasts. “First, what is a film? Second, a pin? Like a sewing pin?”

Arabella sat up. “Sewing pins are tiny. How can pulling one of those out make the ball go bang?”

Josh slid up, sliding Vella’s head down until she rested on his lap. “A film is like a moving painting telling a story. It’s odd to think of it like that, but our tech is way more advanced compared to yours. And it wasn’t a pin.”

“Why did you say it was, then?” Melody asked.

“Yeah, Josh, why?” Lex rested one foot on the bed, giving him an eyeful of pussy.

“I, err…”

“Hello,” Vella said, lifting his cock. “Where you come from?”

“A grenade had a thing called a pin in it, but not a sewing pin, more nail. I think. I don’t know. Just seen them, never actually played with one.”

Vella kissed his cock, then sucked it into her mouth.

“So,” Melody said. “Pulling the pin out must ignite the bang-bang powder like the friction on our string lights the fuse channel. But it can’t be that because it wouldn’t create enough. So, it must create a sequence of events that trigger the explosion after a delay. Maybe it releases one chemical into another…”

Lex glanced at Vella’s bobbing head and then began playing with herself. “You like?”

“Very much,” he said.

“So it can’t be fire because fire wouldn’t work in the ball. It would have to be something else.” She shot up, dressing quickly. “I’ll be back. I’m sure Dad mentioned a powder that burns like that—something that burns underwater.”

“It might work like the fuse on a cannon,” Josh said, then closed his eyes and submitted to his pleasure.

“Oh, are we going again?” Cassandra said. “And I was going to have a bath.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

THE GREY SKY matched the apocalyptic scene before them as Arabella drew the lead wagon to a halt. Around half the village was cinders. Bones that had once littered the road now lay in piles. A wall made from charred logs, roof trusses and floorboards barred their way, and a dwarf looked out from a watchtower made from strapped-together barrels and old boxes.

“You ‘fected?” the dwarf shouted. “Any of you ‘fected?”

Josh equipped his scale armor, not through any fear of the militia behind the ramshackle wall nor the unarmed dwarf. He just didn’t fancy an arrow in the face from the elven archer hiding in the apple tree.

“Not ‘fected,” Josh called back. Fortunately, he hadn’t equipped his helmet, or his voice would have sounded god-like.

“Then why are you going south?” the dwarf called back.

The question made little sense, seeing as the invasion had originated in the south and flowed north. Therefore, it appeared that the dwarf thought them returning warriors—that or he was confused. Then, from the way he swayed, he’d had a few drinks.

“We defeated the spider Pandoril, and now we must enter Alianthia as we travel to Endover. Now, either you let us pass, or we’ll use our battering ram to tear down your wall, and we’ll pass through anyway.”

“There ain’t a battering ram that can breach this wall,” another voice said.

“I’d move out of the way if I were you,” Josh said, his patience at an end. He placed two fingers between his lips and whistled.

A whooshing sound came from behind the convoy, and the ground to the side of them blurred as Scillion flashed past, upending the wall, two dwarves, an elf and three humans.

“Move on,” Josh said. “Let’s see if we can find somewhere to camp.”

“They’re going to be pissed about their wall,” Arabella pointed out.

“You’re right.” Josh jumped off the wagon and waited for Cassandra. He climbed on board her strange, black wagon. “I need a favor.”

“Good afternoon to you, too. Tell me, if I do you this favor, can we get these damn fairies another wagon? They’re in my chimney. Five have made a nest in my cauldron, and my bed is permanently full of them.”

“You don’t use your bed. You’re always in mine.”

“But I do like to know I have the place, you know, for when you and I want to get it on solo.”

“Can two people get it on solo?”

She slapped him and pulled the cart to a stop. “That snake ruined the wall.”

“That was my favor,” he said as Vella skipped between the piles of debris, healing the injured. “We’re going to stop over here. I’d rather they didn’t spend the night whining about how we ruined their wall. Would you mind?”

“Stone might be a little garish,” she said. “After all, aren’t Alianthia and Mythelore supposed to be friends after this?”

“What’s left of Alianthia. This wall faced north. They’re trying to keep us out.”

“Probably defending the land bridge.”

She stood, looking along the length of the ruined wall. “I think we go natural.”

A group of mixed elves and dwarves backed away from them, their weapons raised but unlikely to be used. Fear oozed from each of them, the tips of their spears shaking. “Who are you?” one shouted.

Josh narrowed his eyes and jumped from the wagon while Cassandra began weaving a vine wall. “That depends. If this is Alianthia, then I am Josh Underwood of The Misfits, commissioned to protect these lands—well, some of them—from monsters. By some of them, I mean those around Endover.” He moved closer with each word. “However, if this is Mythelore, then I’m Josh Underwood, your King. She—” He pointed at Cassandra. “Is your High Sorceress. I’m pretty sure she’s the same in both lands, but I’m new around here, so I still don’t know all the relevant protocols.”

He pulled his sword up, pointing it at a gruff dwarf with bright red hair pulled up into a tail that sprouted from the top of his head. “You the leader?”

“One of them.”

“So, where am I?”

“We’re going to call it Freelands. There’ll be no King, no nothing. Be just me and a bunch of others ruling.”

“Oh really,” Josh said. “And how’s it going so far?”

“Killing’s stopped. We won that battle.”

“What’s your name?”

“Thorgar Leadlegs. Lead on account of how hard they are. I’m not slow, like. It’s because I kick hard. That’s it.”

“Well, Thorgar Leadlegs, I’d like to invite you to our camp tonight for a meal. You can bring the other leaders, although I imagine they’ll be spread wide throughout your kingdom looking over cobbled-together walls.”

Thorgar kicked at the ground. “No, no, they’re all here, actually.”

“Where?”

“Hiding from that huge snake.”

“Ah,” said Josh. “Well, invite them too. We’ll need to sort this kingdom thing out. Tell me, how did you defeat the Blackeyes?”

“Blackeyes?”

“The marauding elves, dwarves and pixies.”

He shrugged. “They kind of dropped dead,” he said. “Didn’t do a lot, really.”

Josh lowered his sword. “Do you want to know why?”

“Wouldn’t mind.”

“Then join us for a meal.” He glanced at the impressive wall Cassandra had formed from vines and thorns. “Do you like your new wall?”

“It’s better.”

Josh walked back to the wagon.

“Say,” the dwarf shouted. “You’re not going to do one of them things where you invite all the leaders for a meal, and then you slaughter them while they’re eating, are you?”

Josh scratched at his chin. “No, no, I don’t think so. But if I do, Vella will bring you back from the dead.” He jumped up onto Cassandra’s wagon, pulling Vella up as he sat. “We all done here?”

“They’ll need gates,” Cassandra said.

“I’m sure they can manage that,”

“Hey! What about the gates?” Thorgar shouted after them.

They circled their wagons, building a fire in the middle after hobbling the horses. Arabella and Izod vanished into the surrounding woods. They hunted for food while Melody made a fire, and Elowen recorded the details of their journey from Ginstrata to the land bridge. It had been quiet for the most part, the rocs circling them as they traveled through Sillia before Cassandra finally dismissed them, letting them go back to their roost. They weren’t needed. Scillion’s presence smoothed their passage through the rock belt and the swamps, and Cassandra made the road firm and even.

Harrogate exited Elowen’s wagon, mumbling as he left the circled wagons. Josh glanced at Melody, who looked at Cassandra and Elowen. Vella stuck her fingers in her ear, and the others followed suit. Shortly after, a loud explosion sounded, and Harrogate reentered the wagon circle, the front of him coated in fine, black soot.

“Need a bit more of a delay,” he said and vanished inside Elowen’s wagon again.

She looked up from her ledger. “When are we going to get him a wagon of his own?”

Lyra fluttered her wings, settling by the archaeologist. “Tell me about it. It’s about time Cassandra got her own wagon. All her stuff clutters up ours, and that owl of hers drools when he thinks we’re not watching.”

Cassandra ground her teeth. “I fucking hate fairies.”

Lyra chuckled. “No, you don’t. You know you love us, really. Oh, by the way, Dinsy should be back later, so we’ll know whether it’s worth traveling to Endover or Elarathon.”

“Hope it’s still there,” Vella said. “Hope not all dead. Liked them.”

Josh wanted to ask her more about herself, but there was something that discouraged him. Vella was odd. He’d accepted that long ago, but he loved her with every fiber of his being. Did it matter where she came from? He was pretty sure she was an elf—she had the ears, the pale skin and white hair. But she’d been on the fringes of Elarathon’s society. Although they were fiercely protective of her, as he thought about it, it was more how someone might be precious about something special they’d found. He remembered back to the time Helleron had sworn she’d never leave them. It had been like she was a possession rather than a villager.

“Will you miss them if they’re gone?”

She shrugged. “All things go.” Then she moved closer to him. “Not you. Never you. Not allowed. Vella and Josh forever.”

Then it came out. He never meant to ask, but the words escaped him before he could stop them. “Where is your home?”

“Here,” she said after a long while.

Josh laughed, the tension broken with that single word. “Yes,” he said. “Here.”

They pulled Cassandra’s cauldron out of her wagon, filled it with water and began tossing the food in. Elowen finished her writing and then gathered some wild garlic, chopping it up and adding it while Melody gathered edible leaves, some vegetables and herbs. Arabella and Izod returned with some piglets and a boar. The smell of the cobbled-together stew attracted a few of the locals who hovered on the edge of the wagon circle.

Cassandra planted a dozen torches around their camp’s perimeter and lit them with a snap of her fingers. With the scene set, they waited for the leaders of the rabble to come. Throgar was first, his bravado doused by the impressive campsite. He edged into the ring, waving others forward. Josh jumped off the wagon, beckoning them in. He sat them on one side of the fire and introduced himself again.

“As I told Throgar earlier, my name is Josh Underwood. To the north, some call me King. In Alianthia, I’m a paid contractor. The snake you saw batter your wall down is a Goddess called Scillion, worshipped by the Sillians before the worshippers of Pandoril exterminated them. By worshippers, I do, of course, mean those corrupted by the drink Zim-Zim. Do you follow me so far?”

Throgar cleared his throat. “You’re confirming those who drank the Zim-Zim were those that turned?”

Izod joined Josh. “Zim-Zim is a type of ale made from crushed Zim-Zim spider. Eating that spider has certain hallucinogenic properties. It appears that this was used to place a spell on all the drinkers, and as soon as called, all those drinkers rose as one and slaughtered any that didn’t drink. Is that roughly what you witnessed?”

“Aye,” said an elf.

“Name, please?” Josh asked.

“Thinsilar,” the elf replied. “We saw husband kill wife. Father kill children. Neighbor slaughter neighbor. It was as horrific as it was sudden and brutal.”

“Well, Thinsilar, we have ended one nest,” Izod said. “Josh, Casandra and his band of Misfits killed Pandoril, a relation of the dread spider Vendrod. But the threat isn’t over. Zim-Zim still flows from the goblin breweries. These same goblins are the slaves of Korraken and Drenthall, the last remaining wives of a monstrous beast called Ravenheart.”

“Is this true?” Thorgar asked.

“Every word is true. These monsters come from the Hangsane. They are beyond your power to fight, but you can help me—help us,” Josh said. “But you won’t do it by hiding behind ramshackle walls.”

“What would you have us do?” said an elven woman with two scars across her cheeks and the cold eyes of someone who’d witnessed horrific things.

“I would have you wage war, but not on your fellow survivors. A name?”

“Yolander,” the woman said.

“If I were your ruler, Yolander, I would command you to travel throughout Alianthia and destroy any barrels of that ale—just the Zim-Zim, no other. I would ask you to retell our story and retell it without embellishment.”

“We destroy the Zim-Zim, and we beat the infection?” Yolander asked.

“We do. I would further ask you to be merciful. Do not blame the goblins for this. They were infected first—driven to be mere drones for their spider overlords. Slaughter only the infected and no others. It is not contagious. No Zim-Zim, no new infected.”

“You can identify them,” Izod said, “by their black eyes and a spider tattoo on their necks. The tattoo gradually appears as the infection takes hold. Kill them without mercy, but kill them without joy. They were once your brothers and sisters.”

“Are you really King?” Thorgar asked.

“Yes.” Josh creased his brows. “I’ve got a crown somewhere.” He turned toward Cassandra. “You know where my crown is?”

She shrugged. “I think we turned it into a grenade.”

Harrogate exited Elowen’s cart, climbing down the steps and walking from the circled wagons. Josh stared after him, then turned to the gathered locals. “You might want to cover your ears.” He put his fingers in his.

A huge explosion sounded. Shortly after, Harrogate walked back in. “Perfect,” he said. “A count of four.”

“Can I count on you all?” Josh said. “If not, we’ll build you your walls, and you may rule your tiny kingdom until I come back and crush you.” He grinned. “Your choice.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

THEY FOLLOWED CASSANDRA'S CART, fairies flying around its chimney, her owl perched atop it, as they traveled north, leaving the land bridge behind them. The Hangsane loomed, shadows reaching for the sky, ghostly outlines filled with threat. The road ran alongside the Thame River, its flow languid, counter to their direction, its water as clear as crystal.

"It's the best we could have done," Josh said, taking the reins from Arabella. "With a bit of luck, they'll get the word out and start rebuilding."

“If they don’t, you’ll go back and crush them.” Arabella giggled. “Their faces were a picture when you said that.”

“I had my King hat on,” he explained.

“Crown—it’s a crown. Do you think they really melted it for a grenade?”

He shrugged. “Not fussed, if I’m honest. Be a while until I get to wear it anyway. Plus, who’s to say there’ll be a kingdom left? Look around you. Alianthia’s deserted. Sillia is all but empty. The only two decent-sized settlements left have been the land bridge and Sinsibar.”

"At least the guild building survived," she replied. "We still have a home."

He glanced at her. She still took his breath away as she had the first day he'd seen her and Thadius trundling through the forest on their way to Elrima. It seemed like an age ago, but barely a spring and summer had passed. There was no doubt in his mind that she and all his wives were worth fighting for. It wasn’t the land, the provinces or even his power. It was them.

She moved a stray hair from her eyes. "We will get back there, won't we?"

“I can’t answer that. Will we beat Ravenheart? I can’t tell. We have to take him on; that much I do know. If we do, and there’s a place where you can become a cultivator—where you can get stronger than any in Mythelore, then I think we should try that. But if it’s just a life of fighting our way up a never-ending ladder, then I’d rather get off, find somewhere peaceful and enjoy life with all of you.”

“We could buy a farm,” Arabella said. “With Cassandra’s power, plowing fields and planting should be easy. She could call for rain when we need some. Vella could cure any sick animals. Lexi—well, she’d be in charge of our cow herd. Elowen could do the books and go to market, and Melody could invent all sorts of machines to make things easier, like waterwheels and the like.”

“Why does that sound like so much fun?” Josh asked.

“It does, doesn’t it,” Arabella said.

“Two choices if we survive. We either become so powerful we’re almost God-like, or we grow turnips.” He chuckled at the thought, but the second grew more appealing by the moment. Being the most overpowered person around was tiring. In a matter of months, a whole kingdom had come to rely on him, and he’d been reduced to stolen moments. Yes, that was the phrase Lexi had used. She’d said they had to make the most of stolen moments.

“Stolen moments,” he said.

“What?” Arabella asked.

“Lexi and me. You and me. All of us. When we first got together, it was in the tavern. We’d have quick morning sex or a late evening fumble. With Lexi, it was fast and furious before the Leviathan celebrations. Then, a stolen moment in a weaponsmith. It shouldn’t be like that. What’s the point of being the most powerful in the land if we don’t get time to enjoy it—if all we get is stolen moments?”

She squeezed his knee. “You’re right. When we had the guild house as a base, that seemed like a good solution, but with the fairies, we could be anywhere in the land. Who knows? Kill Ravenheart, and we might get some peace. If word spreads that someone from Mythelore ended that monster's reign, then they might leave us alone.”

“They’ll certainly think twice about coming.”

Cassandra pulled up, stood and beckoned Josh forward. He rose but hesitated, then bent and kissed Arabella. “Hold those thoughts, and we’ll all talk about it. Let us offer the others a choice. I know the tendency is to follow my lead, but I truly don’t know which path I wish to follow. I want both. Does that sound greedy?”

“You deserve both. Look at the hell you’ve put yourself through just to get strong enough to help people.”

Josh jumped down, walking up to Cassandra. He climbed up beside her, grabbed her and gave her a great, big kiss.

“What was that for?”

“A stolen moment,” Josh said. “What’s up?”

“Scillion and Izod are coming. Look—”

Water sprayed along the river’s path, soaking the bank. Josh stood, trying to get a better view, but bushes and reeds hindered him. “If that’s them, they’re traveling fast,” he said, drawing his sword.

He leaped down, jogging along the road and then pushing through the vegetation. Scillion, with Izod atop her, raced down the river, drawing to a halt upon seeing Josh and throwing up a wash of water.

“Hey! What’s the hurry?”

“Speeding back to report,” Izod said. “Plus, it’s with the river’s flow, so we made good time.”

He slid off the snake, holding up his orange robes and wading to the shore. “There’s a village right at the base of the Hangsane. It’s empty. From the look of all the barrels lying about, I’d say there’s a good chance they were all Zim-Zim drinkers. We’re probably too far away from Pandoril’s lair to come under her influence, so the best guess is followers of Korraken, but possibly Drenthall. Either way, they’ve headed north, so the best guess is they’re dead.”

“And your way into the Hangsane?”

“Clear and undiscovered. We can take a boat, and I can drag it upriver unto we come to the first set of falls, but they’re deep underground, and a fair bit of the journey is over by then.”

“So it all looks quite peaceful?” Josh said.

“Too peaceful. Too peaceful by half,” Izod replied.

A tall cliff sheltered the village, folding around it in a half-horseshoe of shelves with ivy draping down in pretty green waterfalls and stumpy trees growing out at painful angles. In its center, a waterfall fell to a pool that flowed away to the main river. An old sign named the place Misty Falls, and as they pulled up before one of its largest buildings, the gentle sound of the falling water had already calmed Josh’s troubled mind.

The unerring feeling that he was leading the loves of his life into mortal danger filled him with panic. He wanted all those other things for them that he and Arabella had discussed. He wanted the waterwheel for Melody. Hell, he even had thoughts about her inventing electricity—well, at least inventing it in this land. He saw Vella scampering from tree to tree, bathing in the stream, and as he stared up at the beautiful cliff, he envisioned her scaling it, laughing all the while. A skirt of arable land held back the forest, and a stables and pigsty sat adjacent to the large building.

Is this the place? He wondered, kicking over a barrel while knowing he was flitting from one vision of his future to another.

Arabella came up to him, lost in thought herself. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

He laughed. “We’re two peas in a pod. I was thinking how nice life would be here. It’s like fate is tempting me to hang up my monster-hunting boots.”

She nudged him. “Wait until this thing is over. Then we’ll think about it.”

“Yeah,” he replied, kicking at the weed-strewn trail.

“You wanna explore the big house?”

“You go ahead. I need to talk to Cassandra.”

Her gaze lingered on him, then she turned and walked toward the village’s largest dwelling. “It’s got upstairs bedrooms,” she said. “I enjoy looking out of the window while you give me my morning screw.” She laughed and strolled around the pile of empty barrels and into the home.

It’s tempting. So fucking tempting.

But deep down, he knew Ravenheart would come. He knew they’d know no peace if he left the job unfinished. He found Cassandra by a pond, looking into the clover, deep in thought.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Not sure,” she said. “I feel a little strange.” She crouched. “I feel like a cloud has settled over my head.”

“Same. Look, I want to talk to you about something…hypothetical.”

“Sounds mysterious.”

“I’m worried,” he said. “I’m worried for Arabella, Melody, Vella and Lexi. I’m definitely worried about Harrogate.”

“About them going into the Hangsane?”

“Yes. They have none of the advantages you and I have. I dread something happening to them. Or if we’re in a fight and I can see one of them in trouble—or worse, two and I have to make a choice between them. I’ll not fight well. I’ll lose my focus. But that’s not it. It’s something simpler. Only you and I have the power.”

“Then it’s up to us to kill Ravenheart. Smaller might be better. Scillion, you and me?”

“Scillion to show us the way? That’s all we need from her. Possibly help us with a few of the mobs. Two would be faster at the end, plus I have my stealth suit, and I’m pretty sure one of your magical branches could conceal you.”

“We’d miss Melody’s grenades—they countered my lack of magic against Pandoril.”

“We take them with us.”

Cassandra looked over the pond. She scrunched her mouth up and sucked her cheeks in. “They won’t like it. We’d have to sneak away.”

Josh threw a pebble into the pond, watching its ripples spread. “No. We sit them down and tell them. It’s the right thing to do. Arabella’s bow would not affect Ravenheart. Lex would be dead before she could land a blow. Melody? Her specialty is inventing the stuff, not fighting. We always said that each takedown is suited to certain people. This is our task.”

“Vella?”

“I’m unsure about her. I think she’s more powerful than she makes out to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“She can kill as well as heal. She can drain people of mana and vigor until they’re empty husks. She put Pandoril out of her misery.”

“Then she needs to come with us.”

“No,” Josh said. “She’s too fragile.”

“Yes, coming,” Vella said. “Spider’s bad. Ravenheart’s bad. Killed too much.”

“For fuck’s sake, Vella!” Cassandra said, holding her heart. “Will you stop sneaking up on people?”

“Saw you talking from cliff. Sneaking off to kill spidey, eh?” She winked at Cassandra. “Need Vella in mountains. Need Vella to kill Ravenheart.” She looked around. “This place is good. Full of mana. Full of vigor. It would make a good place to get stronger.”

Wedging herself between them, she flexed her shoulders until they made room, then sat.

“Why do we need you, Vella?” Josh asked.

“Because he’s stronger than you. You need to make him weaker. Him gets weaker if no one feeds him. Then you can kill him.”

Flames lit the brick fireplace, licking its soot-stained chimney and filling the room with heat and the homely scent of woodsmoke. More fragrant smells wafted from the pantry, those of herbs and roasting birds. Fairies fluttered around, perching on beams and sills and sliding down the banisters.

“I can’t believe how plentiful the game is around here,” Arabella said. “They were practically offering themselves up for the pot.”

“The forest is full of vegetables, too, and we’ll never be short of garlic and herbs,” Elowen called from the kitchen.

Josh waited. His whole chest hurt from the tension, and despite the heavenly smells reaching his eager nostrils, he felt sick to his core. He had to tell them their plan even though the easier route would be to sneak away. But he knew what their reaction would be. He could see the anger and the disappointment as he chose two of his harem over three others. It wasn’t right, but nor was it correct to take them. As one of his old shipmates had once favored saying, he was between the devil and the deep, blue sea.

“You want a drink, Josh,” Lexi called. “There’s an ale called Zim-Zim—”

“No! Nobody touch—”

Lexi fell about laughing, Elowen joining in as Arabella stared at him.

“She’s joking. What’s wrong with you?”

“Yeah, misery. Let’s have a good night,” Melody said. “We got food, a fire. We’ll lock my Dad in one of the wagons, and we can bonk all night.”

“Won’t be long before we’re back in those smelly old caves,” Arabella said, her hands on her hips.

“Then there’ll be no fun,” Lex said.

“You’re not going,” Josh said, looking away at first and then meeting her eye.

“What!”

“We always said—”

“I don’t give a fuck what we always said,” Arabella shouted. “We’re a team, and a team sticks together.”

“Not this time,” Cassandra stood by his side.

“Why?” Melody asked. “Aren’t we powerful enough to be in the club?”

“No. No, it’s not like that. Izod’s out, too. Me and Cassandra are more powerful than all of you.”

“So fucking what!” Lexi shouted. “I’m better with a sword than you.”

“You are,” he said, keeping his tone as even as his gut would allow. “But you have no defense against his magic. You can’t resist his poison. You, Melody, you were supposed to be support. You weren’t supposed to be fighting.” He turned to Ellowen. “You either. You’re support, too. So that’s two of you out—if we stick to the original plan. Arabella, God knows I love you, and I don’t want to say this, but you can only shoot arrows. It isn’t enough to take down Ravenheart. It won’t even tickle him. Pandoril didn’t flinch, and you hit her with a deadeye shot. If Ravenheart is that much stronger, then your archery is useless against him.”

“What about me?” Lex asked. “I got one of her legs and a mandible.”

“Yes, Lex. Yes, you did. But will you get that close to something ten times faster? What happens if he gets you with his fangs? I have to protect you. If he fangs me, I can carry on fighting. It’s risk versus reward. The risk’s too great. Besides, what if the goblins attack this place and find Harrogate on his own—or Harrogate, Elowen and Melody? Fuck, this is hard, and you aren’t making it any easier for me.”

Arabella reached out, touching his sleeve, then grabbing it and pulling him close. “It’s not supposed to be easy.”

“You agree with this?” Lex cried.

“No, but I understand it. Cassandra is more powerful than any of us. You get more powerful every day.” She turned and stood by his side. “We agreed to this. We agreed everyone would have a specific role in every takedown, and if there wasn’t one, they played no part. So, I ask myself this. What do I offer this next mission?”

“I can fight!” Lex said.

“Yes,” Josh replied. “But you can’t defend against him.” He looked around. “I like this place. My gut tells me it’s right for us—better than Califire and Endover. It’s a place we can train. It’s close to the Hangsane, so if you want to visit the ruins, we can go from here. Vella says it's potent enough to cultivate here.”

“Is.”

He approached Lex. “You have to defend this place. All of you. You have to make sure we have something to come back to.”

“What about Vella,” Elowen said. “You’ve said nothing about Vella.”

“She comes.”

“I go.”

“Why? She can’t defend herself.”

“She doesn’t have to,” Cassandra said. “She’s been right in the thick of battle just wearing her two-piece. Have you ever seen her injured?”

Arabella stared at her. “Not a scratch. Never.”

“Not a scratch, even when she went inside the colossus. Even when she dove off a cliff into a river.” Cassandra raked her fingers through her hair.

Josh tried to recall every battle. “Never,” he whispered. “What are you, Vella?”

“Elf,” she said, grinning. “Kind of. Gonna climb the cliff.”

Elowen laid the table. “Well, at least you didn’t sneak off in the dead of night.”

Arabella faced him, tears glazing her eyes. “How would he do that? He’s always in the middle.”

“Well, I say we have a good meal before he goes,” Elowen said.

“I’m going too!” Cassandra said.

“True.” Elowen placed the final setting. “And I’ll miss those long, black hairs in the bath and that lingering smell of brimstone on the sheets. I’ll stop having to pick up all your discarded knickers and odd socks, but I’ll get over it. Probably just in time for you to return, sweetie.”

“I’m going to tell Izod he’s not going either,” Josh said.

“Izod isn’t going where?” Izod asked, entering with Harrogate.

“Josh has decided that only him, Cassandra and Vella are strong enough to go into the Hangsane,” Melody said. “He reckons the rest of us are too feeble.”

Izod placed his palms together as if in prayer. “He’s probably right. But, he’ll need me to come part of the way—at least to the basket.”

“The basket?”

“It’s something I put in place to facilitate an easy return to the mountains. I planned on bringing an acolyte to aid me. I guess I’m that person.”

“And this basket is where?”

He puckered his lips. “Midway.” Then he nodded. “Yes, around midway. It’ll give us a good idea if all the goblins have gone.”

“I should at least come that far,” Lexi said.

“She should,” Arabella agreed. “The tunnels aren’t suited to a bow, but her sword might be a help. Plus, if it clears any goblins, then it saves us fighting them here.”

“So, just one thing to decide. Do we want to make our home here?” Josh said.

“Here?” Harrogate asked. “It’s certainly safer for our experiments.”

“We love it,” Lyra said.

“More than love it,” Dinsy added. “It’s perfect.”

“We could take one of the houses for a workshop, Dad,” Melody said.

“And Dad and Simmalion could have another,” Arabella said.

“No local girls for my harem,” said Harrogate. “But I could contact a few old flames.”

“Nice and safe to bring children up,” Arabella said, then covered her mouth. “When we have them, that is.”

“Close to the Hangsane should we want to cultivate and get strong enough to be included on the next mission,” Lexi said and stuck her tongue out at Josh.

“So, apart from Harrogate’s harem, we’re agreed?”

“A decent road to the center of Alianthia, and we’re at the road bridge anyway. Plus, with Arabus and his family, we can be at any point in Mythelore in a day,” Cassandra said.

“Arabus,” Josh muttered, not for the first time. “Will he settle here, or is it too close?”

“Let’s not get into this,” Cassandra snapped. “I don’t own him. He’ll come if he deems it safe for his family.”

“Yeah, but perhaps he could pick us up and drop us close to Ravenheart, then it cuts out a lot of the trip.”

“The great bird bears Ravenheart’s scars, does he not?” Izod asked.

“He does,” Cassandra said carefully.

“Then he cannot return to his territory if Ravenheart banished him. It is the way of the Hangsane. If he fled the fight to save his life, he is vanquished and may only return in service of his conqueror. He is a beast—a majestic one—but he is no practitioner. Ravenheart will be much stronger than when they met before. The great bird is right to fear him.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Josh said. “But I’m not asking him to fly into battle. Just give us a lift over the mountains.”

“It is any great bird’s instinct to avoid that which harbors ill intent to it. Arabus is not the first such beast to duck a fight.”

“He’s not ducking a fight,” Cassandra said. “He’s simply looking after his family like Josh.”

“Well, whatever,” Elowen said. “Dinner is served, and it smells mighty fine. If this is the type of food we’re going to enjoy here, then I’m definitely voting to stay. Besides, if Josh is King, he’ll have a residence in Califire. We can go there when we want to open our bedroom window and smell shit-filled streets.”

“Elowen!” Arabella said. “We’re about to eat!”

Josh lay in the middle of their bed, candlelight illuminating their wagon.

“Seems strange without Cassandra and Vella here,” he said.

“Nice of them to give us some time together,” Arabella said, pressing her naked body into his.

“More like the fairies have moved out of hers, and she wanted some alone time,” Melody said. “I can understand that. I’m more used to being alone than in company. Sometimes, I feel like being alone. Then I remember what it’s like being with my dad the whole day, and I decide I can put up with you lot a bit more.”

Josh grunted. “You know you can’t get enough of me.”

Melody fished under the sheets and wrapped her fingers around his rock-hard cock. “Seems like you can’t get enough of us.”

He grinned. “There’s still something special about that word us.” His dick twitched against her palm as he thought about how lucky he was.

Lex ripped the sheet off them, tossing it on the floor. “We won’t be needing that for a while.”

She spread his legs and knelt on the bed, dipping her head and kissing the insides of his thighs. She lingered close to his balls before flicking her tongue over his sack. “Say, one of you girls want to give me a hand down here?”

“I’m game,” Melody said, sliding down his body. She rose onto all fours and poked her tongue into his belly button. “These are daft things,” she said, moving her tongue around its rim before traveling to the edge of his pubic hair and bringing his twitching cock close. “This thing, not so daft. Quite regal, really.”

“You know it, babe. It’s the King of Cocks.”

She teased his end with her tongue’s tip. “It’s a King’s cock, certainly. Is that a bit of precum I’m tasting?”

“It’s been a while,” he said.

“That’s all the traveling we’ve been doing,” Arabella said, sitting up, then throwing her leg over him to straddle his face. “Remember when you wanted to spend the whole time on the road, and now you want to settle here?”

Her flame-red pussy hovered over him, delightful, tempting, the smell of her arousal filling him full of lust. “Everything was new to me then. My life was suddenly so much better. Plus, I met you.” He gasped as Melody swallowed his cock, his crown hitting the back of her throat.

“I know all that,” she said. “But settling down could be fun, too.” She lowered herself, and he opened his mouth to accept her, his lips matching hers as he slipped his tongue along her crease. She rocked back and forth, letting him probe in and out.

Lex drew his balls into her mouth, swirling her tongue around them, pulling them deeper until the first twangs of pain caused him to wince. She held them, then released and lifted her head to join Melody. Their eyes met, his cock between them. “You first?” she asked.

“First is good,” Melody said. “But he’s already getting close to the edge, so second might be better.”

“We’ve got all night.”

Josh wanted to tell them that he really needed some sleep, but then, this memory would be fresh in his mind while he traveled into the Hangsane. It would be something to cherish when things turned to shit. Arabella quickened her movements, her lips sliding on his, lubricated by his watering mouth and her growing excitement. Moans escaped her, becoming a soft rhythm that morphed into a song of her absolute ecstasy.

Melody climbed atop him, lowering herself down while Lex held his dick in place. He slid in, his cock lubricated by their combined spit and his welling cum. She was tight, so tight. None of them had lost that. Their experience still raw but enhanced by their sharing of him. Melody set one hand on his chest, opening her legs more to let him fill her completely. She rocked back and forth, mimicking Arabella as she fought to accommodate him.

Lex drew close to the bed’s head, lifting one foot onto the small table beside. She reached down, sliding her fingers through her pubic hair. Her slit glistened with wet, the hair around it shining, the candle so precariously close. She delved deep into her fissure, then withdrew, teasing her lips apart to reveal her cerise flesh. “You like that, baby?” she asked, a smile on her face. “You like that, don’t you, baby? You remember watching Cassandra wank that time? Oh yeah. She told me. Wanna watch me wank, eh?”

She didn’t wait for a reply. Sliding her fingers to her hood, she began working her clit. Slow, circular motions hypnotized him. He wanted to turn his head, but Arabella’s legs clamped him in place. One eye wasn’t enough to take in the beauty of Lex’s show. He tracked her motion, then followed her arm past her breasts to watch her breath heave. She lifted her chin and closed her eyes, her moans joining Arabella’s and Melody’s.

But he couldn’t linger there. He let his gaze fall back to her blurring fingers, hoping to see her cum, to be doused in her ejaculate. That thought tipped him over the edge, and he came—no ball-emptying gush but a gentle stream that leaked into Melody. She ground down harder as if his capitulation was enough to bring her to orgasm, and her wet bloom pooled at the base of his shaft.

“You’re up, Lex,” Melody said.

“Arabella,” Lex gasped, unwilling to stop her masturbating.

“I’m good with that,” Arabella said, sliding down his body and impaling herself on his eager cock.

Lex held herself as she straddled Josh. “Now you get a close-up show.” She hovered over him as her fingers blurred once more, the gentle slapping of her lips and Arabella’s mounting groans splitting his focus. Although he tried to slide his own pleasure into his thoughts, Lex’s fierce masturbation consumed his attention. Her pussy pulsed, moistening, cum dripping onto his cheek, running down the back of his neck. She was hypnotic, her pleasure coming in waves as her ass bucked and knees widened, lowering her closer to him, to his eager lips. She raised her lips, moving her busy fingers away from him but bringing herself close enough that the tip of his tongue could reach the back of her slit as he finally tasted her.

Whether she was already there or if it was the touch of his tongue, he didn’t know, but her fingers suddenly stopped and spread, exposing her buds to him as she jammed her pussy onto his mouth and emptied herself into him in a bloom of moisture that spread within his mouth like a warm glow. She rested there momentarily before dismounting and walking from the bed. She bent, leaning on the bath. “Fuck, that was intense.” She dipped her head in the ever-warm water and then threw it back, showering Josh, Melody and Arabella. Then she turned. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

THE GOODBYES HAD BEEN PAINFUL—MADE worse by the worry they might never see each other again. Once he’d hugged and kissed them, he hugged and kissed them again. They’d finally boarded the small boat Izod had stashed, and Scillion took up its tether, pulling them upstream. As they traveled the shallow water, Josh focused solely on the Hangsane. The mountains rose like vast sentinels, imposing but seemingly relaxed, as if Josh and Cassandra were no threat to them at all. The thought that he might fail, that he might be leading Cassandra to her death, clouded his mood.

“Enjoy yourself last night?” Cassandra asked.

“Fuckey-fuckey,” Vella said with a giggle. “Me miss out. No fair.”

“But.” Cassandra said. “We had a good night’s sleep to ready ourselves for this adventure.”

Josh yawned, ridding himself of his gloom.

How can I stay pissed when I’m with these two?

He’d grabbed an hour’s sleep, and his dick felt like it’s been tugged to death by a gang of pissed-off bell ringers. He smiled at the recollection. What man wouldn’t? While he’d have liked to think his sexual prowess had satisfied the three beauties over and over, he recognized the ring's influence over every aspect of his mind and body. It strove to be the best, and nothing he could do would stop it. Not that he had any intention of doing so.

“It was eventful. Lex stole some of your moves.”

“Darling, everyone steals my moves. Which one?”

“She had me watch her.”

“Ahh, that one. One of my favorites. For a self-taught girl, I’m inventive. You can’t take that away.”

“I wouldn’t change you for the world.”

He settled back, watching the water flow by as they closed on the mountains. It had been a great night—fitting, but what made it special was cuddling up to Arabella afterward. They still had a special bond. They were the beginning, and hopefully, that night wouldn’t be the end.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing and pulling on the tethers.

A large stack of barrels sat by a small jetty. A skeleton lay on the wood, reaching, its arm bones draping into the water. Scillion veered closer, bringing them alongside.

Izod moored the boat. “A goblin.” He looked behind him, narrowing his eyes as if trying to gauge a distance. “This must be too far from Pandoril’s web for her death to influence the little chap. He must be one of Drenthall’s or Karakens, but if so, why’s he dead? Have they withdrawn from Mythelore?”

“Why would they do that?” Josh asked.

“Ravenheart’s already lost two of his wives. Perhaps he’s regrouping.” Izod marched along the Jetty. “I think we have a Zim-Zim brewery here. Cassandra, perhaps you’d like to destroy it?”

“With pleasure,” she said.

Josh jumped out after her, nudging the skeleton into the water with his boot. He picked a barrel up. “These are full.” He unslung his large sword and destroyed them. “Now they’re empty,” he said, marching after the others.

“Not a brewery then,” Cassandra said, holding the Everdeep staff out, its jewel shining in its setting.

Hundreds of Zim-Zim barrels, stacked ten high, filled a large barn. “Wanna get drunk?” Josh asked.

“Can cure hangover if you do,” Vella said.

“Don’t even joke about it,” Cassandra said. “There’s enough here to corrupt half of Mythelore.”

“You think that was their plan?” Izod asked.

“Alianthia might have been revenge,” Josh said. “But I bet they got a taste for all the vigor the zombie elves gave them. Imagine how much a subjugated Mythelore would feed Ravenheart’s guild. Pandoril had said something about invading and establishing their guild in between.”

“What if they were consolidating before the invasion? Planning to teleport into her nest to invade? Hopefully with the loss of the nest they won’t have an easy path forward.” Josh said, the thought suddenly coming to him.

“Then they’d have lost their best path to invade. I think you’ve greatly screwed their plan,” Izod said.

“And more now we killed Pandoril. Is that why he’s retreating?”

“Shall I?” Cassandra asked. “Shall we starve him of the chance to start over?”

“I think so.”

Josh backed away, pulling Vella with him, as Cassandra thrust the Everdeep staff forward, a beam of white light shooting to the middle of the barrels and then spreading before vanishing, leaving a gaping hole with ale spilling out.

“As Melody would say, fire in the hole.”

Josh crouched with his hands over his ears. “Technically a saying from my world,” he said. “But I’ll let her have the credit.”

The explosion rocked the ground, sending all four of them backward. A golden umbrella of crackling power then covered them, the ale rain fizzing against it as they sprayed from the destroyed barn. The sorceress sat, dismissing her protective screen. “I think I got that dead right. Not too much power, not too little.” She stood. “A refill, please, Vella. Might as well keep me full.”

Vella obliged.

“We might just have saved more lives by stopping here than anything else you’ve done so far,” Izod said.

“Feels good, doesn’t it,” Josh said.

They traveled through the underground without incident, even though the caves and riverbanks showed signs of goblin activity. They passed the occasional stack of barrels, destroying them and moving on, but they saw no sign of the goblins, nor any spiders or old webs.

Entering a small cavern, Scillion finally pulled over, and Izod moored the boat, tying its rope around a large boulder. “We go that way,” he said, pointing to a passage in the cavern’s wall.

“What about you, Scillion?” Josh asked.

“I will travel a different way. Mine is faster, and I can conceal my arrival in the Hangsane. Your way is suited to Izod, so it should favor you too.”

“We only need you to show us to Ravenheart’s lair,” Josh reminded the great beast. “We’re not expecting you to help us.”

Scillion lingered. “You cannot stop me from helping. This is my life’s dream. Ravenheart drove me from this place, and while I might return disgraced, I’ll not leave without causing him some damage. Izod, my package, please.”

Izod withdrew a small package from his pocket. “Are you sure, Mistress?”

“I am,” Scillion said. “This must end soon. Ravenheart is upsetting the balance established thousands of years ago. All fear going against him.”

“What’s going on?” Josh said. “If you’ve a plan, I need to know what.”

“It is food, nothing more. I only plan to offer a diversion so you might enter his lair undetected. It will give you a slim chance, no more than that.”

Josh let his gaze linger. “That all?”

“It is all,” Scillion said.

Izod backed away, turning and marching down a path without looking back.

“Something’s just gone on,” Josh said.

“Yup. Do we have to start worrying about being double crossed?” Cassandra asked.

“We have to start worrying about something.” He paused. “Are we Scillion’s ticket back into the Hangsane?”

“Well, we’re too far in now to turn around.”

“Don’t need them,” Vella said, hurrying after Izod.

Cassandra flicked the elf a look, shrugged and followed.

They trudged along a narrow, winding passageway, the floor cracked and broken, the roof tapering to a point. The last vestiges of Josh’s claustrophobia made his stomach churn but didn’t cause the panic it had used to before he’d acquired the ring. He thought it likely tempered his fear as walking toward certain death didn’t bother him quite as much as it should have done. Fighting giant monsters hardly phased him. But it had no answer for the loss he felt leaving Arabella, Melody and Lex behind. There was only one way to get back to them, and that was to defeat Ravenheart and, if need be, his last two wives.

The basket hung from a rope at the base of a perfectly round shaft that rose to a speck of light. A second rope dropped down the shaft, and Josh looked up its length, trying to fathom a purpose.

“A pulley?” he asked.

“Meant for down rather than up,” Izod admitted, “but I assumed you’d have the strength to pull you and Cassandra. I’ll certainly do what I can from here.”

“That has to be a thousand feet up.” Josh tested the rope, pulling but barely shifting the basket.

“Can climb,” Vella said.

Josh attempted to work out the logistics. “This is going to be one long haul.”

“What if Vella climbs this rope?” Cassandra asked, catching the dangling one.

“It would make it easier, but she’d have to climb double the length as the basket rises.”

“Is okay,” she said.

“Can your magic help?”

“Aeromancy,” she said. “Might help a bit. I could flood the shaft with water and float it up, but Izod would die.”

“What if we combined our Aeromancy?” Izod suggested. “That would certainly be preferable to me.”

“We’ll do that,” Josh said. “We’ll give it a go.”

Vella jumped into the basket, then onto the dangling rope, shimmying up it as her weight lifted the basket a couple of inches off the floor.

“Hold on, there,” Josh said, pulling the basket down so that Cassandra could jump in. “Not sure the aeromancy’s going to work. Hold tight.” He lifted Vella off the rope and put her in the basket, too. Spitting on his hands, he jumped onto the rope, pulling himself up. The basket rose as he brought his weight to bear. “Seems I’m quite heavy,” he said. “I’ll pull you to the top. You secure the rope, then I’ll climb up. Might add a strength point. Vella can send me down renews while you defend her if anything approaches.”

“Darling, if I’m not pulling on the rope, I’m game for anything. There’s only one thing I like pulling on.” She winked at him, her ensuing grin stirring his loins.

Josh set to work pulling on the rope. The basket rose easily.

“Jump in with some wind if you feel the urge. Can’t hurt,” he said to Izod.

“I think you’re right,” Izod said after a while. “Although it’s having little effect.”

Sweat pricked on Josh’s brow, his muscles straining as the basket made it to halfway. He paused, catching his breath as Vella cast her renew from above. He went again, the rope coiling at his feet.

“How the hell did you get down?” Josh asked.

“Scillion lowered me gently. It was quite the humble experience knowing my mistress was serving me. One that I shall treasure for the rest of my days.”

“What’s she got up her sleeve?” he asked as he took another rest.

“Her sleeve?”

“A saying. What’s she up to?”

“Scillion wants her revenge. You’re the best chance she has of getting it. She will do anything in her power to make that happen.”

“Like what? That’s what I’m asking you.”

“My lady has sworn me to secrecy. I must fulfill her final command.”

“Final command…” He stared at Izod. “So, she plans on doing something stupid.”

“I fear I will never see her again.”

“Not if I have my way. What’s she planning? What did you give her?”

Izod cringed, his whole face straining as he wrestled with his conscience. “I cannot. I serve her, and she has commanded me.”

“Then I’ll ask you another way. What’s the worst thing you could do with the package you gave Scillion.” Josh pulled hard on the rope, his fury growing.

Izod dithered, walking away and then walking back. He stopped, about to say something.

“Eat it,” Izod said. “If I were to give you such a substance, I would advise you not to eat it.”

“Got it,” he said and went back to work, pulling hand over fist.

“Here!” Vella’s voice echoed down the hole.

Josh waited. He wanted to ask Izod the plan but knew it was pointless. The eunuch was clearly conflicted. “Last chance,” he said.

Izod turned away, walking along the tunnel before stopping and turning. “I hope to see you again, My Lord. If things turn out the way I think they will, I shall need a new master, and I would be honored if it were you.”

“I don’t need your service, Izod. Your friendship is enough.”

His face blanked, becoming a mere mask as if his very soul had fled. “What if I like serving? Did you ever think of that?”

Josh pondered his words. “Then it will be an honor to have your service.”

Izod bowed and was about to walk away when he paused. “I’m going to assume you beat Ravenheart. No, I’m going to pray you do first, then assume my prayers will work. The girls…”

“What about them?”

“Their weakness will be playing on their minds. They will wish to become practitioners and never be left behind again.”

“That was my feeling.”

“I will prepare them for a trip to the ruins.”

“They’ll be able to get there without being harmed?”

“We will make it a pilgrimage. Other practitioners will not bar our way there, nor the way back, if accepted. To do so would bring dishonor to their house, and all others would seek to tear them down. One does not attack novices.”

“And if they don’t get accepted?”

“They will tear them apart.”

Josh nodded slowly. “Then we must make sure they are accepted.”

Izod bowed again. “It is a task I will complete.” He stared at Josh before lowering his eyes again. “Yes, Master.”

Josh scaled the rope.

A feeling of insignificance crushed him, so powerful it threatened to overwhelm his every sense. Boulders the size of houses towered above him. Rocks the size of boulders lay scattered like scree. Above all, the Hangsane towered, the sky a mere split of light—cracks like blue lightning. Cassandra secured the basket, her expression telling him everything he needed to know. She felt it, too. They were ants in a land of giants.

“Fuck,” he said, inspecting the terrain a little more closely, noting the clefts and shelves, vegetation beards drooping from shrouding clouds as waterfalls hatched in the heavens themselves. He squeezed his eyes, staring at the impossible as it became plausible and then undeniable. “Is that a village up there?”

Cassandra swayed. “Making my head go funny.”

Vella jumped up onto a boulder. “This way,” she said.

“How do you know?”

“Is Threndor Range. Not close to Spidey, but not far.”

“How do you know?” Cassandra asked.

“Scillion,” she said. “And been here before. We meet her at the Crystal Lake in the shade of the Mountain of Mirrors.”

“You’ve been here before?” Josh asked.

“Yes, lived close, like to explore. This way.”

She darted off between two boulders and into a grassy vale, trees lining it and a river flowing along its crease. Josh drew his sword, but Cassandra rested her hand on his wrist. “Perhaps a mouse shouldn’t antagonize a lion but try and slip quietly by.”

He held it up. “But it feels better being ready.”

“Admittedly,” she said, indicating Vella. “I think you’re right. She has more to her than meets the eye, and while I’m not saying she’s lying, she’s not exactly telling the truth either. Why’s she hiding what she’s done here?”

“That’s just it. She’s not, is she? She answers every question. I don’t think we’re asking the right ones.”

“Harrumph,” Cassandra said. “We’ll see.” They came to the small river, walking along it toward the valley’s head. “Do you think I need to become a practitioner? There’s all this speak of the others, but no one’s mentioned me. Do wizards not do it?”

“Do you know, I have no idea? I suppose you could increase your mana stores or the power of your spells. Hard to know,” he said. “You’re plenty powerful as it is.”

“But what if—”

Vella waved them down, crouching herself. Josh shifted closer to a smaller boulder, slipping into its shadow and pulling Cassandra with him. A burst of red slid in and out of view across the vale.

“What the hell’s that?” Josh asked.

It appeared again, only this time bigger, flickering for a while, then solidifying and resolving into a beast the size of a house.

“Is that a dragon?” Cassandra asked.

“Sure as hell looks like it,” Josh said.

He backed away a little more, slipping around the boulder. “Cassandra?”

“Can’t move. It’s looking straight at me.”

“All the more reason to move.”

“Don’t think it’s going to help.”

“Why?” Josh asked.

“Because it’s staring straight at me.” She fell silent. Josh peered around the rock.

The dragon shimmered under the sunlight, its scales scarlet and emerald eyes shining. It walked with majesty, nearing Vella but keeping its eye on Cassandra.

“You can tell the human to come out,” the dragon said. “That boulder won’t protect him any more than the Everdeep Witch can. Why do you bring such a weakling into our realm?”

“Not so weak, Dorkrin,” Vella said. “How is your neck?”

“My neck is fine, my child. But if you wish to heal it further, it would be a boon. That damnable spider venom still lets in the cold.”

“Spidey bad,” Vella said.

“Very bad.”

“Human man not quite so weak,” Vella said.

“He doesn’t look like he’s from here.”

“Not,” said Vella. “It's okay, Josh. You can come out. Cassandra, meet Dorkrin. He’s on our side.”

Josh stepped out slowly, his hand resting on his smaller sword’s hilt. He was quite aware it would be like fighting a wolf with a toothpick, but it comforted him. He grimaced. “This should be fun.”

The dragon approached. For a creature of its size, it was surprisingly graceful, gliding toward Josh fluidly. “I’m not interested in you, human, but I am interested in her. We must preserve her—we must do everything we can to keep her alive.”

Vella moved like lightning, coming between the dragon and Cassandra. “No. You cannot have her. She is his woman, as am I.”

“He has both of you?”

Dorkrin’s head shot out, closing on Josh and coming so close he could smell his cindered breath. He sniffed Josh’s body, his brilliant, green eyes settling on Josh’s ring. “There is power here, but whether enough to hold two such women, I do not know.”

“I don’t need to hold them. They are with me voluntarily.”

The dragon stared at him. “Punch me. Show me your power.”

“Don’t test him,” Vella said.

Dorkrin swiveled his head. “Why not? I wish you to survive, little one. If you are tied to something so weak, I must judge if it has a chance to grow into something special.”

“I’ll hit you,” Josh said. “But, like I said. She’s not tied to me.”

He pulled back his fist, focusing on the dragon’s snout. Without hesitating, he launched his punch, hitting the dragon with such force it would have shattered a lesser creature’s jaw. Instead, he met brute resistance, like hitting a steel wall. The force of it juddered up his arm, his fingers shattering. Josh gasped, pulling his hand back. “Fuck me! What the hell are you made of?”

It hit him straight away. That was exactly what folks had said about him. He stared at the dragon. “Teach me?”

Small smoke puffs rose from the dragon’s nose. “First, you have to survive your reason for coming here.”

“Renew,” Vella said.

Josh’s hand fixed itself. He flexed his fingers. “Thank you.”

“You used renew?” Dorkrin said. “He mends with vigor?”

“Doesn’t work like everyone else.”

“Doesn’t he?” Dorkrin edged backward. “Why are you here, Little One?”

“Our business is our own,” Josh said.

“This is The Hangsane. All people are lined through friendship or vendetta, guild or hatred. No one's business is their own—no one. Do you want to survive to take your revenge?”

“Revenge?”

The dragon snorted. “Do not play word games with me. Words are like treasure to a dragon. They are our friends. A Mythelorian does not enter The Hangsane for a picnic. Besides, there’s no harm in telling me because I already know.” He swiveled his head again. “And perhaps I can be of assistance.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

GOLD AND SILVER spilled from every corner of Dorkrin’s cave. The great, red dragon perched on its ledge, its nest so high it looked down on skirts of puffy white clouds.

“So you see,” he said in his slow and deliberate manner. “Without friends in this place, it’s quite easy to die.”

“Yeah,” Josh admitted.

Dorkrin had flown them through The Hangsane, circling great mountains, pointing out guild territories and lofty villages, great waterfalls, and sapphire lakes. The land was stunning, but its sheer scale gave Josh a lump in his throat.

“I wanted you to see The Hangsane as it should be, not with Ravenheart’s stain,” Dorkrin said.

“We thank you for that kindness,” Josh answered.

“He has overstepped,” Dorkrin said. “His stain spreads like black malignancy, killing all in its path. Now, when you see it, you will understand its devastation. You think you can kill him?”

“I have no choice. He invaded my kingdom. I killed Pandoril. He’ll keep looking for me until he finds me. It’s easier this way.”

“Technically,” Cassandra said. “We killed Pandoril. It was a joint effort. He does that, Dragon. He takes credit and forgets those who assist him. If you ask him, he’ll say he once killed six necrotic wolves, but I killed two of them. What man does that?”

“It’s a turn of phrase, that’s all.”

“You killed Pandoril?” Dorkrin asked.

“And big fish,” Vella said.

“Leviathan,” Josh corrected.

“Enough!” Dorkrin raged. “Do you always talk so fast? I must think.” He rested his chin on the ledge, smoke rising from his nostrils as his eyes closed.

They ate while they waited. Vella sat on the rock’s edge, swinging her legs over. “Spidey bad,” she muttered, pointing to the large, black shadow. “No mana, little vigor. Everything dead—sucked everything dead.”

“Then how do we kill it?” Josh asked.

“You have me. Spidey not expect me. I have vigor and mana.”

Cassandra sat with her. Josh nearly puked as he looked over the ledge.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Saying what I say.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Are you saying that he’s lacking in power?”

She pointed. “All dead. Where can he get it from? Has to war to get more land to suck more power. No Zim-Zim now.” She smiled.

“While we have you,” Cassandra said.

“You have me.”

“Do you people never shut up?” Dorkrin said.

“No,” Vella said.

“Little Vella is right,” the dragon continued. “It will be hard to stop Ravenheart. All practitioners live on vigor and mana. The higher their power, the more they need it. To walk into his lands is to know hunger.”

“Are you saying that no one—none of you powerful practitioners in these mountains can stop him?”

“No,” Dorkrin snapped. “I’m saying we haven’t found a way yet. Come.” He pushed himself up as if it were the hardest trial he’d ever faced. “I’ll show you.”

“Renew, heal,” Vella said.

Dorkrin looked at her like a father to his favorite daughter. “Child, you are precious indeed. Alas, this ride has to be swift. Only one can come. Not you, sweet Vella. I cannot risk you. And you, the light of the Everdeep, holder of The Staff, you must not expose yourself until the time is right. But you, Josh of the Underwood, are nothing. Your power doesn’t manifest like any other. He might not see you.”

“Equip stealth clothing,” Josh said, then stripped off his clothes. “How about now?”

Dorkrin set his mighty wing down, and Josh mounted the dragon, grabbing his crest to steady himself.

"It is customary," Dorkrin told him, "to freeride. To grab one's crest is considered rude. Would you rip the plumage from a roc or the fur from a baywolf's scruff?"

Josh eyed the vast drop. "But what if I fall?"

Cassandra looked over the edge. "I'm sure your ring will piece you together in a few years."

He glanced at her. "Comforting." Then he released Dorkrin, clamping hard with his legs.

The great dragon sighed. "I realize you are no cultivator, but please, stop being such a child. You have agility, I take it, even if you cannot put a number on it. Use it."

Josh wanted to tell the beast he had a number—that he had progressed and would progress further. A thought came to him—a question he had yet to ask Dorkrin. Could the dragon help him reach his next evolution?

Instead of asking it, he reached inside himself, letting his body flow and accepting every subtle moment under him. He quickly accustomed to Dorkrin's scales, how they slid over each other as the dragon's mighty muscles flexed, readying for his take off.

"Are you balanced?" Dorkrin asked. "You managed to fly up here with me. Down is always easier."

"You didn't mind us hanging on then," Josh pointed out.

"The greatest practitioners make allowances for novices once. After that, we expect you to learn or fail. In battle, one can make a few mistakes, but one must never make the same one more than once."

Dorkrin slipped off the ledge, spreading his wings and gliding on updrafts. They passed through clouds, their fog sticking to Josh's face and blotting out his view. The dragon hugged the mountainside, although Josh doubted it was to conceal himself. After all, he was so red he shone like freshly spilled blood. But as they progressed, he saw the dragon followed a path, threading through the mountains like water washing down a boulder-littered stream.

It was fluid, too. Even though Dorkrin wasn't tutoring Josh, there was knowledge available. Each of the practitioner's movements held grace and an economy of movement that Josh hadn't thought possible in a beast of the dragon's size.

And there was grace and economy but also speed. The dragon accelerated, the mountains passing by faster and faster. With no effort at all, Dorkrin maintained the same altitude. Josh quickly assimilated all the information, filing it away for the ring to analyze.

They passed by a mountain settlement—several buildings perched upon a rock shelf. Their construction fascinated Josh. The dwellings were thousands of feet up with no visible pathway. Yet, somehow, roof slates, engineered stone and paving, timber—the size of the timbers!—had all been transported to the shelf.

Then, a thought struck him. What were the inhabitants so afraid of that they'd built their homes in such a remote place?

"The Arashi Sect," Dorkrin told him. "Air cultivators. They spend their days seeking ways to make themselves more attuned to the wind." The dragon shrugged, nearly tossing Josh from his shoulders. "They can fly some, but it's only gliding. Now, the Cloud Riders of Jessop can fly like birds. They are decent foes, versed in the art of aerial combat as well. The Arashi, not so much. Maybe in a thousand years."

The timespan stunned Josh. He'd been living day-by-day since he'd landed in Mythelore. His plans had hatched and changed every hour. To think of an ambition spanning one year, let alone a goal spanning a thousand, was beyond his comprehension.

"Try standing," Dorkrin said.

"Standing?"

"The proper way to ride a great bird or a dragon is to stand. Think of it as a test of your balance. If you fall, then you needn't worry about improving. It is the only way to fly. How could you possibly defend yourself if seated?"

"Stand?" Josh repeated.

"Yes."

"All right. May as well die this way as get eaten by some fucking spider."

"Wise words indeed."

Josh pulled his legs in and then tried to kneel. His whole body shook with fear for a moment. Then the ring learned, or he learned—it was getting hard to tell which.

Rip off the plaster!

He spread his arms to either side of himself, then he stood.

It was an eye-opening moment. He swayed one way, then veered the other. His knee spasmed, and his foot slipped. But slowly, he gained his confidence. Adjusting his stance, he set one foot in front of the other, spread his arms and settled. The cold air raced by him, adding to his growing sense of exhilaration. A smile teased the corners of his lips, and his chest filled with the fresh air.

"You are a fearless learner—quick too. Perhaps you might survive for a day in The Hangsane, but probably not. Shall we test your balance?"

"Test my balance?" Josh didn't like the sound of that.

"Just a few moves. It's all in the knees. Remember that."

Josh tensed, ready for a gentle turn or perhaps a slight incline. Dorkrin banked, very nearly throwing Josh from his neck. He recovered, moving down the dragon's body and taking up a position between the front of his wings. The dragon banked again, then twisted the other way. Josh kept adjusting—awkward at first but then fluid, gradually anticipating Dorkrin's every move and changing his stance a fraction of a second before the dragon altered direction.

Dorkrin's moves became more erratic, his banks and dips becoming more extreme. Then, as Josh was really getting into it, the dragon evened his path and began to circle one mountain.

"Impressive," Dorkrin said. "If you survive your interview with Ravenheart, I may well take you as an apprentice. It's been a long, long time since I had a rider."

Josh digested the dragon's words but could think of little to say. Then, as he stared at the mountainside, he made his choice. "It would be an honor, but I have my wives to look after. I'm not sure I could stay in the Hangsane and do that as well."

"I'm sure the two would be compatible," Dorkrin said. "We are close. It is time for you to look upon your doom. Be aware. I cannot fly too close, else their bows and ballista, their flaming trebuchet, might strike me."

Bows, ballistas and fireballs?

"We are talking spiders, aren't we?"

There was green, rugged, but healthy land. Then, there was a black and bleak land with a coating of silver like some hideous, wooly mist.

"My god," Josh said.

"All of the gods aren’t enough," Dorkrin acknowledged. "His lands span twenty mountains, their valleys and vales, their caves and caverns. All is dead, as far as we can fathom. Anything that strays into their lands is taken, devoured and enters their food chain. Zim-Zim swarm, eating all. The larger ones then feast on the Zim-Zim, and the still larger spiders then feast on them. All feed Ravenheart and his close minions. It is efficient—it is the way of the spider, but it is limiting."

"Because only a little food enters the chain."

"Precisely. The spiders are limited by their ability to conquer new lands. They have crushed some weaker sects, but now they lock horns with those mightier than them."

"Which is another reason they tried to draw power from Mythelore."

"It is possible. They drove the Octavia from these lands—the last survivors fled. I'd have expected them to put up a better fight. Trolls have fled. Nests of fairies and harpies. All manner of beasts."

"These Octavia wouldn't happen to be lizardmen, would they?"

"They were reptilian. Good fighters but no match for Ravenheart."

"Comforting," Josh said.

Then, a thought struck him. "They consume everything?"

"Everything," Dorkrin confirmed.

"Take me to Mirror Mountain, please."

"That is now under Ravenheart's control."

"It's also where Scillion planned to meet us."

"Then the great beast is dead. She could barely best Ravenheart when he was weak. She'll not last against him now."

Dorkrin banked, aiming straight for the blackened lands. As Josh narrowed his eyes, horror filled him. The black was a writhing mass of heaving bodies. Whole waves of them moved like sea swell, crashing over rocks and eddying around larger spiders like erratic children. They crawled up threads, old, tattered and grey, and scampered across webs, but not the type he'd seen in the rainforest. There were no intricate patterns—no majesty to them at all. They were broken, hanging by a few threads. Even though awed by the sheer scale and mass of the spiders, he could see starvation, a colony on the brink.

Then Mirror Mountain came into view, its gleaming blue sides like glacial ice. Below, rising but not consuming more than a few feet of the great monolith, sat a skirt of black and spun grey, and a little out from that skirt was Scillion.

The serpent thrashed and rolled, crushing the tiny Zim-Zim spiders, ripping into the larger ones and tossing them aside as she forged deeper into Ravenheart’s land.

“Do something!” Josh screamed. “Burn them! You’re a burner, aren’t you?”

“Scillion is fighting her fight nobly. She would not welcome rescue even if it were in my power.”

“She’s dying!”

Two giant spiders closed on her, crushing the smaller ones underfoot. Instead of fleeing, Scillion darted straight for them, ignoring all the others.

“Dorkrin! Do something!”

“I could fire a few, but it’d make no difference.”

“Better than doing nothing,” Josh said.

Scillion reached two giant spiders, ripping the legs away from one as the other drove its fangs into her, its legs gripping her as she tried her hardest to shake it off. The second spider attacked, stumbling forward, its mangled legs barely carrying it. With one last effort, Scillion struck the second spider, killing it, but in doing so, she left herself open for another devastating strike by the first spider.

“No!” Josh screamed as Drorkin pulled himself from his dive.

“It is over,” he said. “She’ll not recover from that.”

“She can!” Josh pleaded.

Scillion bucked and writhed, curling and stretching as spider venom took hold, and then she became still. The Zim-Zim swarmed, and her magnificent body vanished under the black.

Josh ground his teeth; his hands bunched to fists. He wanted to scream, to tear the mountains down upon them. But more, he wanted Ravenheart. He wanted to tear him from limb to limb.

“Something is happening,” Dorkrin said as he circled Mirror Mountain. “Look. Look there.”

Josh crouched, looking along the line of the rapidly vanishing serpent. He couldn’t make out what was happening. “Are those ridges?”

Patches of ground were darker than others. Some were thin like twigs while other small, circular ones dotted the horrific landscape. All grew, their void-like black encroaching on the fevered spiders. Nothing stirred in the middle of the black. There was no writhing, no scampering, no ravenous feeding. Then, the black stopped increasing, and the rampant spiders attacked it. But even as they attacked, new static pools appeared, and the cycle began again.

“What’s happening?” Dorkrin asked.

“It looks like they’re dying, getting eaten, then dying again.”

The black patches slowly increased, their strange pulsing magnified. It reached some tipping point, then radiated out in spines from a central source—from Scillion.

“She’s poisoned them,” Dorkrin said. “They ate her and died, then others eat the corpses and die. The poison spreads, but not just her flesh… She somehow poisoned her vigor as well. As they feed on either, it’s killing them,” he said, his tone colored in wonder.

“The package,” Josh whispered. “The package Izod gave her.”

The lines grew, spreading from the Mirror Mountain and into Raveheart’s territory. Spears of corpses appearing, receding, then stabbing further in, widening and extending.

“She’s stuck a blow,” Josh said. “She’s killing them all. If they weren’t all starving then they’d be able to resist, but none of the lesser minions are that disciplined.”

“Then,” said Dorkrin, “I would suggest you try and execute your plan as fast as you possibly can.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

DORKRIN FLEW AWAY, spreading her giant wings and vanishing upward.

“Chicken-shit,” Cassandra said, taking a couple of steps gingerly and wincing the spider bodies crunched underfoot. “That dragon is chicken-shit.”

“I’m beginning to think the same,” Josh said. “He swears Ravenheart is an enemy, yet still flies away.”

“All dead. Everything dead,” Vella said. “Poison rinses the empties.” She spun around, her arms spread while. “Plenty vigor in the air.” She breathed deeply, pouting, then heaving. “Smells. Smells bad.”

“That’d be the dead spiders,” Cassandra said, bringing her Everdeep staff to bear and burning a pathway through the festering gloop. “He said this way, didn’t he?”

Her pathway led through two boulders and into a tunnel. Josh looked up at the mountain over it. “Let’s hope Ravenheart’s not at the top.” He equipped his scale armor, helmet and all.

“I’ll think of something,” Cassandra said. “I’m not climbing to the summit of that just to die.”

“What if Ravenheart’s dead already,” Josh said.

“Not dead,” Vella added.

“You had to spoil it, didn’t you, elf?” Cassandra sighed.

They followed her path, the taint of crisped ichor sticking to their nostrils like tar. A bright orb appeared over her, lighting their way when they entered the tunnel. It led up in a long, sweeping spiral, its inner walls pocked with more holes. Josh drew his small sword, handing it to Vella.

“Hold on to it for a moment.”

He unslung his backpack and fished inside it, bringing out Melody’s grenades.

“Who’s got pockets? You all know how they work, so I suggest we share them out.”

“If we’re thinking about planning the mission, then it’s a bit late,” Cassandra pointed out, taking a couple.

“I gotta plan,” he said, filling his pockets and then discarding the backpack. “We go in, blow the fuck out of everything, then magic and chop whatever’s left to death.”

“Now that is a plan I can get behind,” Cassandra said, then extended their path and continued walking.

The mountain’s guts groaned and heaved, strange noises coming from within. Skittering, cracking, screaming and spitting. It rose as they did, their climb never ending. Cassandra sent a smaller light sphere into one of the holes but quickly snuffed it out. “That’s morbid,” she said. “Scillion must have really hated them.”

“They’re dumb, plain dumb. Eating their own dying—they deserve everything that’s coming their own way.” Josh moved on, stabbing a writhing spider and stamping on its head.

“It’s poetic justice, that’s what it is. The Zim-Zim spread through Alianthia and Sillia, and now Sillia’'s poison is spreading through Ravenheart’s lands. Only question is why no one else thought of it.”

“No honor. This is a place where honorable cultivators fight.” He grinned. “Scillion had to live among us lot to work out how to fight dirty.”

They continued up until the passageway finally stopped and turned in toward the mountain’s heart. They swapped looks, Josh nodding and Cassandra hesitating.

“This is it, isn’t it?” she said.

“Yeah.”

“Yes!” Vella said.

“Do you always have to be so chirpy?” Cassandra snapped.

“Yes,” Vella replied.

Cassandra grabbed Josh’s neck, pulling him close and kissing him. “It’s been a blast, Josh Underwood.”

“It’s been a blast, Cassandra Day.”

They kissed again, and Josh lifted Vella and kissed her, too.

“Fast and furious. Blast the fuck out of everything, and whatever you do, don’t let Ravenheart spout some monologue.”

He brought out his first grenade. “Bite the pin out with your teeth and throw.”

“Fast and furious,” Cassandra said.

“Fast and deadly,” Vella said.

The three of them raced in.

Corpses littered the cavern floor, their dull carapaces lit by the flicker of dozens of corpses. A huge web took center stage, a spider in its center twice the size of any Josh had seen. Yet it was no ordinary spider. It had eight legs and a spider-like body, but two large wings sprouted from its thorax, which rode to a human upper torso, a man’s head perched upon broad shoulders.

Two smaller webs sprung from the large central one. A spider clung to one, ichor spilling from her every pore, and another lay on its back, its guts open, eyes devoid of life.

“Was it you?” The man’s voice resonated around the cavern. It was deep, sad, but boiling with rage.

“No, it was Scillion,” Josh said. “We’ve come to make sure you die.”

“Scillion couldn’t have killed Pandoril and done all of this?” Ravenheart crawled down the web, his steps languid. He swiveled around to face them, his eyes a piercing blue, hair jet black like his feathered wings. “But it has no honor.”

“Did you have honor when you tried to kill all of Alianthia? Did you have honor when you killed Nareena or when you slaughtered all in Sillia?”

“They killed my wife. Those fucking elves killed my wife. Their dead bodies were going to feed my army as I built a new kingdom!”

“Me kill no one,” Vella said and moved in front of Josh. She turned. “Thought you said no monologuing?”

“You’re right,” Josh said.

“An elf!” Ravenheart raged and surged forward, a sword appearing in his hand.

Cassandra screamed her spell and thumped the Everdeep staff onto the ground, a burst of white magic surging from its emerald jewel. It smashed into Ravenheart, splintering into a thousand pieces and sparking across the massed corpses.

“Fuck, forgot about that,” she said, bit a grenade and pulled the pin. “Have this instead.” She tossed it at the abomination and then screamed her spell again.

Josh pulled the pin from his, tossing it. Vella’s hand hit his just before he released the grenade, knocking it to the side. Josh frowned as he grabbed her and pulled her behind him.

Across the chamber, Ravenheart appeared so quickly it almost seemed like he teleported. As he surged forward, Josh’s errant grenade met him straight on as Ravenheart tried to slice the object.

Both grenades exploded, while Josh’s blasted Ravenheart back against his web. Cassandra’s magic lanced into Ravenheart’s soft underbelly, burning a hole clean into his guts. Josh tossed another grenade, crouching and pulling Vella into another hug.

Ravenheart disappeared and appeared across the room, struggling to stand on his legs as he cast a fireball at them. Cassandra waved her staff, forcing away and into his webbing with an explosion. As soon as Josh could see Ravenheart again, he threw another grenade, only to have Vella knock his arm again.

Ravenheart phased out, appearing across the room and once again in the path of the grenade Josh had thrown. This time his form wavered just before the explosion, but he was still thrown back against a wall. His body crumpled to the ground before he slowly started getting up.

“He’s weak,” Cassandra said, and a golden shield appeared before them. “Toss another,” she said as the explosion rang out. She walked forward, closing on the creature.

Ravenheart dropped, facing them once more. He listed to one side, three legs severed. “This is not honorable!” he raged and tried to forge forward, but his legs collapsed under him. Cassandra’s magic skittering of his carapace.

“Is swarming one enemy with a hundred thousand of yours honorable?” Josh growled, tossing another grenade.

“My minions are my soldiers.” Ravenheart’s words came in gasps.

The grenades exploded. Another leg flew off, and half of his face vanished, leaving a charred mess behind.

“Stop!” Vella said. “Me.”

She walked through Cassandra’s golden shield and skipped up to the dying monster.

“Vella!” Josh cried. “What the hell are you doing?”

Cassandra leaned on her staff. “She’s quite sinister, really, isn’t she?

“Sexy sinister.”

“Definitely sexy sinister.”

Vella regarded him as he gasped for breath, then climbed up, placing her hand on his ruined face. “Bad spidey. Time for sleep.”

Ravenheart lurched. Josh tensed, but Cassandra restrained him. “No. We need to know who she is.”

“We know. She’s Vella.”

“She’s more than that.”

Vella sucked in the air around her, her lungs seemingly bottomless, the inhalation endless. Black mist left the spider’s twitching body, swirling around it before entering Vella. The abomination stilled, his husk crumpling and folding until he was nothing but an empty shell. The elf turned, breathing out, her sooty breath swirling around Cassandra and Josh.

He felt the strength enter him, the vigor, the power of a hundred years of cultivation. His blood raced through him, filled with his share of Ravenheart’s power. Before him, Vella grew, her body jumping in size by a few inches—her aura growing, shining, spraying a mystical light about. Cassandra yelled, spears of white power lancing from her, smashing into the cavern’s ceiling and walls. Josh felt his whole body quicken as it absorbed the power. His senses went haywire, the ring struggling to adapt. More power spewed from Cassandra. Cracks appeared in the cavern’s ceiling, snaking down the walls, and the floor erupted, rock slabs upended.

“Stop, Vella. Stop!”

“We must get strong,” Vella said. “Must take the power.”

“It’s too much!” he screamed.

She giggled, jumping across a huge rent, and took his hand, dragging him and Cassandra from the room.

“Is enough,” Vella said. “Must get out.”

They raced down the path, slipping on spider guts and tripping on splintered rock as the passageway behind them collapsed. Cassandra staggered, still reeling from the power influx. Josh’s head cleared as the ring grabbed hold of his mind, assimilating the power, a notification blinking. He scooped Vella up and slipped her onto his shoulders, then grabbed Cassandra. Lifting her into his arms before racing down the spiral tunnel.

Exiting, he trudged over the dead spider army, thunderous cracks ringing out behind. Then, one mighty explosion thumped him in the back and sent him flying. He stumbled forward but regained his balance. His agility had soared. Cassandra and Vella weighed nothing.

“What the fuck just happened?” he muttered to himself. “What the fuck is happening?” he added, seeing Cassandra pulsing with light. “For fuck’s sake. She’s gonna blow!”

Dorkrin appeared in a flash of scarlet. He lowered his wing, and Josh raced up it. “What the fuck’s happening?”

“Power overload. All the guild’s assimilated vigor is about to blow. No time to explain.”

He beat his wings, racing through the corpses and taking off. They soared into the sky, headed away from the black.

A huge explosion rang out behind them, a wash of heat dousing them.

“Well, you survived,” Dorkrin said. “We might make cultivators of you yet.”

Josh staggered, knocking into the cave walls as his head split in two from the pain of the vigor overload. His muscles felt weird. His tendons and his balance were all off. But he had additional fluidity. He was extra bendy.

Have I eaten a fucking gymnast?

That wasn’t the worst of it. A sick feeling welled in his gut, but then his body was simultaneously filled with additional fortitude as if he’d never be sick again. He groped around as Dorkrin and Vella tended to Cassandra, who still resembled a human bomb. Then he gave up, needing to sit and slid down the cave wall, sitting in a pile of gold and silver.

“You really need to sort your treasure haul out into gold, silver, bronze and jewels. Get a bit of OCD going.” Even as he tried to make light of his situation as his legs began spasming.

I’m changing. Something’s happening!

Not wanting to but needing to, he focused on the blip in his mind’s eye as he wondered if the vigor overload had fried his ring.

Basic attributes *!$$^^^****************

Basic senses ***(((___++!!!>>>>**************

Excess energy in system

System overload imminent

Working on solution

Flushing energy not optimal

Solution calculated

Utilize excess vigor to improve host

Raising all sub-optimal attributes to maximum level ceiling

Strength – ceiling surpassed

Speed and agility – ceiling not reached

Durability – ceiling not reached

Combat instinct – ceiling not reached

Arcane resistance – ceiling not reached

Poison resistance – ceiling met

Assessing requirements to protect the host

Upgrading speed and agility

Speed and agility +5

Upgrading durability

Durability +4

Upgrading Combat instinct

Combat instinct +6

Upgrading arcane resistance

Arcane resistance +3

New Score =

Strength = 44

Speed and Agility = 40

Durability = 40

Combat instinct = 40

Arcane resistance = 40

Poison resistance = 40

Average = 40.66

Senses

Advanced intuitive hazard detection activated

Sub branches

Advanced physical threat detection – red

Advanced arcane threat detection – mauve

Advanced poison threat detection - blue

Rank = Novice Enforcer

Current Tier = Silver Vanguard

Title = Silver Vanguard of the Novice Enforcer

Tier advancement requirements met

Current Tier = Silver Vanguard

New Tier = Golden Defender

Title = Golden Defender of the Novice Enforcer

Initiating upgrade.

Stage, Golden Defender, reached.

Releasing bots.

Working on bone structure

Working on cardiovascular system

Linking nervous system

Hijacking neural network

Commencing Call to Arms.

Completing bone structure

Bone structure complete

Cardiovascular system complete

Nervous system linked

Neural network subjugated

Altering epidermis

Effecting enhanced strength

Strength score = 44

Changes Effected

Effecting enhanced speed and agility

Speed and agility = 40

Changes Effected

Effecting enhanced durability

Durability score = 40

Changes Effected

Effecting combat instinct

Combat instinct score = 40

Changes Effected

Effecting Arcane resistance

Arcane resistance = 40

Changes effected

Effecting poison resistance

Poison resistance = 40

Changes Effected

Call to Arms assigned

Gauntlets crafted

Boots crafted

Call to Arms complete

Upgrade Complete

He opened his eyes as the scripts vanished. Still brimming with energy, he jumped up and punched the air, crouching and roaring like a lion. Turning, he punched the wall with all his might, the dull rock resisting his newly enhanced power. Josh felt good, better than he ever had—like he could take on the world.

Cassandra sat against the cave wall with Vella close by. She’d stopped pulsing and looked drained and tired, where he was brimming with vigor. Vella cast another heal. The witch perked some, then cocked her head and slapped her brow. “I’m a fucking dumbass sometimes.” She brought the Everdeep Staff close to her mouth and then exhaled. The jewel brightened, a deep emerald glow radiating from it. “If I’ve a touch too much power, I stash it in there,” she said. “Simple.” Her attention fell upon the bubbly Josh.

“Get a little upgrade, did we?”

“I don’t know what the fuck happened, but I felt a quickening, then everything went haywire inside me. I just leveled up big time. It was fucking incredible. He equipped his scale armor, every inch of his body covered.

“So you’re…”

“A Golden Defender,” he said, then he narrowed his eyes as he gazed upon Vella. “What about you? You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you?”

“You always get a reward for vanquishing another boss,” Dorkrin said. “It is what we call them here. Ravenheart was the boss of Guild Ravenheart. As a guild grows, so it uses its harvested vigor and mana to advance its individual members, but it also siphons some off that goes into the guild’s holding. That is used to craft the guild’s base or enhance its defenses. In times of hardship, the boss can dissemble the guild’s holding and retrieve a portion of the invested power. Fortunately, Ravenheart had done this. There was no sign of the ballistas or the trebuchets I spoke of. It seems the guild was close to imploding. Perhaps Mythelore was his final gambit.”

“And when we took that away, his kingdom collapsed like a stack of cards,” Josh said.

“Which was fortunate. Ones as lowly as you shouldn’t be able to defeat the boss of a guild so high as Ravenheart. This will bring repercussions throughout the Hangsane. No guild will feel safe.”

“But, darling, we really didn’t do anything too hard—no harder than defeating the leviathan. Scillion did all the hard work. I think the fight had gone out of Ravenheart before we arrived.”

“Wanted to die,” said Vella.

“It matters not who did what.” Dorkrin continued. “It will be recorded that your guild defeated Ravenheart. You three received the power and have advanced because of it. There will be repercussions.”

“Repercussions?” Josh asked.

“Bosses will meet, and we will have to decide how to handle your people.”

“Handle us?” Josh said, striding to the cave’s edge and feeling like he could step off and fly.

“You represent a threat. All threats must be discussed. And then there is the matter of compensation. Ravenheart worked outside of the Hangsane's best practices and rules. There was talk of armies being gathered, and war declared on him. All this costs gold, time and lives. You saved each guild opposing Ravenheart a lot of riches, but you would have made enemies of those who supported his erratic ways. The supporting factions will not let you suffer at the hands of the darker ones.”

“All this sounds like a lot of hot air. It was just a monster takedown. It’s what we do,” Josh said.

“We’re Misfits,” Vella said.

“You, my little elf, are so much more than that,” Dorkrin said. “You are a Conduit, and you know it. I take it your power increased?”

“Yes. Can do more now.”

“Then, you are valuable indeed and are another thing that needs protecting.” The dragon sighed. “I have much to think about, but first, I will take you where you wish to go as thanks for ridding the Hangsane of the blight that was Ravenheart.”

“Home,” said Vella.

“Which one?” Cassandra asked.

“New one. Me likes new one.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

THEY CIRCLED, slowly descending before coming to land on pasture near the stream, just out of the shade of the tall cliff. Nerves grabbed Josh’s gut, and even though they’d only been away for a little over a week, he worried things might have changed.

Melody trained the ballista on them, her goggles down and mouth set in a grim line. Her cheeks flushed rosy red, blotched like salmon, and her breasts strained against her dungarees. “Let them go, and I won’t shoot!”

“Tell that strange woman that I’m a friend,” Dorkrin said with a sigh. “I’m thirsty, and I don’t want to get an arrow, or whatever that thing shoots, up the ass.”

“Hold fire, Mels,” Josh shouted. “He’s a friend.”

“Made you say that, did he?” Arabella shouted from behind a barrel, her bow nocked, and arrow aimed. “We’re going to need you to step away from our people, or there’ll be consequences.”

Drorkin perked. “Perhaps I might move to the side. How about by the pond?”

Lex appeared from the reeds; her spear leveled. “Not so fast!” She acknowledged Josh. “You okay, boss?"

"I’m fine. Dorkrin’s a friend, and we’re glad to be back home.”

“We’re wonderful,” Cassandra said. “Now, lower the weapons.”

Elowen walked from the house, a book in hand. “She is a Fire Dragon. It says here that they are capable of entrancing their captives and manipulating them into saying whatever they desire. It says here that they will usually trade their hostages for gold or silver.”

“So that’s it, is it?” Arabella shouted. “You want loot. Well, we have loot, and you can have it all if you release him.”

“Hey! What about me?” Cassandra asked. “I’m worth some gold and silver.”

“If we have enough, we’ll trade for you, too,” Melody said. “But, if not—” She shrugged. “It’s been a blast.”

“It’s been a blast?” Cassandra said, planting her feet slightly apart and holding her Everdeep staff, its jewel shining brightly. “It’s been a blast?” she growled.

“She’s possessed Cassandra!” Arabella shouted.

“I’ve possessed no one,” said Dorkrin. “And I’m a he, not a she.”

“It says here,” Elowen ran her finger along the page. “That female Fire Dragons are red, and male ones are blue.”

Dorkrin threw his wings in the air. “Well, if it says it in your book, then yes, I have taken these three hostages, hypnotized them and then changed my color to confuse you into thinking I’m a female.” He stopped forward, ignoring the ballista. “So, if you want to shoot your pathetic weapons at me and hand over your gold, then I’ll fly back to my cave and leave you all alone!”

“It says here,” said Elowen, “that Fire dragons live in burrows in the sand in the western desert of Tupacca.”

“Stand by, girls,” Arabella said. “We have a shapechanger!”

“Gah!” Dorkrin cried.

Harrogate walked from the forest, passing by Josh.

“Good afternoon!”

And Vella.

“Nice to see you back, little one. Have you grown?”

And Cassandra.

“If the wind blows, it’ll fix that scowl in place, you know.”

And Dorkrin.

“My, aren’t you a fierce one. A Thellophite Flamemaker Dragon, if I’m not mistaken. Best not upset you, eh?”

He patted Dorkrin on the head.

“Keep that fury breath under control, eh?”

Harrogate marched on.

“What did you call it?” Elowen said.

“A Thellophite Flamemaker.” He lifted the book and looked at the cover. “Higg’s Mystical Monsters and Fantastic Beasts? Man was a hack! He’d never seen so much as a glowworm. I’ll lend you my copy of Trenchard’s Almanac. Trenchard, now he was a good researcher.”

Harrogate marched toward the house.

“Wait,” Elowen cried. “Do Thellophite Flamemakers have the ability to charm?”

Harrogate stopped. “They’re charming, perhaps even charmers, but they aren’t hypnotics, even if they like to think they are.”

Dorkrin turned to Josh.

“Is that the legendary Harrogate Delaney?”

“It is.”

“My, aren’t you connected.”

“I feel so stupid,” Arabella said.

They’d made the place homely. A blazing fire warmed the cozy room. Elowen busied herself setting the table while Lyra, Dinsy and a couple of other fairies lit candle after candle, making the room somehow magical.

Josh pulled Arabella to him, kissing her hard on the lips. “It was kind of horny. The four of you facing off against a huge dragon with just a bow, spear, ballista and a book.”

“But the things we said—and to a magical beast that wants to help us?” She shoved him away. “You could have stopped us.”

“I tried.”

“You could have tried harder,” said Melody as she pulled him away and drew him into a hug. “But then, you had just ridden in on a freakin’ dragon! How cool is that?”

“It’s pretty cool.”

“You didn’t try and bargain very hard for my release,” Cassandra said.

“Or mine,” Vella added.

“It was a negotiating tactic,” Elowen explained, bringing out a breadbasket.

Josh grabbed a roll, tearing into it as his stomach rumbled.

“So,” Cassandra continued. “You had a plan? Tell me, how did you hatch that plan when all the notice you had was us appearing in the sky and landing?”

“Because I had them prepare,” said Izod as he descended from upstairs. “It is good to see you back, Master. I have taken the liberty of drawing you a bath. Perhaps you might like to freshen up before the evening meal.”

“Izod!” Josh said. “And how are you?”

“I am recovered from my trip back. I have taken quarters along the road in a modest house. I took the liberty of tidying another and readying it for the arrival of Arabella’s father and Ms. Simmalion. They are due at any moment, so a rather large bird tells me.”

“Thadius and Simmalion are coming here?” Josh asked.

Lyra settled onto his shoulder. “Endover is gone. It’ll take a long time to repair. They’re coming here to live with us.”

“Dad wants to learn about cultivation from Izod,” Arabella said.

Josh grinned. It was finally coming together. “So, I’ve only got this King business to settle, and we can live here.”

“And learn in Hangsane,” Vella said.

“And learn there.” Josh faced the fire, stretching and yawning. “I could do with a bath.”

“Me too,” Vella said.

“And me.” Cassandra strolled to the stairs, dropping her cape and resting her staff against the banisters.

“What was it like in the mountains?” Elowen asked.

“Humbling,” Josh said. “It was terribly humbling.”

Cassandra and Vella climbed the stairs, but Josh lingered. “We have a lot to discuss.”

“Like what?” Arabella asked.

Josh glanced after Vella. “Dorkrin, the rather large dragon…” He glanced up the stairs again. “It’s like this. How would you like to become the biggest, badass cultivators in all of Mythelore? How would you like to be stronger, faster and more agile than any small village thug or big city warrior? How would you like to be invincible?”

Arabella, Melody, Lex and Elowen crowded around him.

“That would be awesome,” said Lex.

“Amazing,” said Elowen.

“Where do we start?” Arabella asked.

“Naked in the bath would be as good a place as any,” Josh said with a grin.

They grabbed his hand, leading him up the stairs.

Josh wondered when he’d become so lucky.

He looked at his ring. That had played a big part, but then, so had he.

Sometimes, you have to ride your luck and hope for the best.

“Are you all ready for a Golden Defender?” he asked, stripping.

Afterword

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Druid Path of the Alpha: A LitRPG Fantasy and Hexblade Warlock: A Slowburn LitRPG Fantasy Adventure.

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