H - 106: You Really Shouldn't (Patreon)

“All right, first things first: thank you. You guys really saved my bacon. I’m sorry I wasn’t very…gracious about it at the time.”

“You are welcome,” Riocco said gravely, nodding once. “And don’t worry, we know better than to judge someone by how they behave while under severe stress.”

“And sleep-deprived,” Lilith added.

Cora managed not to grimace, barely. She really didn’t have time to dither, but dealing with this crew without getting sidetracked into irrelevancy seemed…difficult. Luckily getting them into a private room—a secure one even by the standards of Valefolk—had been both easy and fast. The headquarters of the Verdi Herons had an abundance of such and the clerks at the front desk had expedited her request immediately, without needing to be harangued or bribed. That much at least she remembered from her own brief time in the business.

“I know you have to be…curious,” Cora said, choosing her words with great care. The concentration this required left her no spare brainpower for other forms of self-control, and so she was pacing furiously up and down one side of the room wearing an agitated scowl. The Lone Wolves, seated on the other side of the small meeting room’s table, watched her with no sign of alarm at this. “I’m sorry about that, honestly, but these are matters of state security at the very highest level. As much as I would like to let everyone involved know exactly what they’re dealing with, I’m responsible for state secrets, and, well…I’m not at liberty to…”

“We understand that, too,” Riocco assured her.

“We’re adventurers in the Evervales, Lady Cora,” Greg added with a grin and a light double-tap of the small cymbals behind his head. “None of this is particularly out of the norm.”

“Right,” Cora grimaced. “Well…I’m afraid it’s about to be.”

All three of them straightened slightly, watching as she paced a full lap back and forth to gather her thoughts before speaking again.

“All right,” she said finally. “What I’m about to say is a state secret of the highest order. It won’t and can’t be for much longer, which is one of the reasons I’m willing to take this risk. The way in which it becomes public will matter, though. Before I continue, I will need your word, from all three of you, that you will reveal what I tell you to no one until after it gets out on its own.”

She finally stopped her pacing, leaning forward and bracing her fists upon the table to stare intently at them.

The other two hesitated, looking to their leader; Riocco also paused, narrowing their eyes and studying Cora for a long moment, before nodding.

“You have my word,” Riocco said solemnly.

Cora waited until Greg and Lilith did likewise before nodding in return. She drew a breath, steadied her shoulders, and spoke while still holding their collective gaze.

“Atraximos the Dread has fallen.”

The reaction to that was more or less as she had predicted, except quieter. No one cursed or shouted, though all three rocked back in unison, wide-eyed with astonishment.

“Wait—why is that a state secret?” Lilith demanded, forgetting to rasp her voice. “Wouldn’t that be—that’s good news! It’s the best news anyone has ever heard! There will be celebrations all over the Vales—all over the world!”

“The problem is who did this, why, and how,” Cora said. “There is… All right, this requires some background. I don’t suppose any of you happen to know what a godling is?”

Riocco’s eyebrows drew together; both their counterparts made similarly reproachful expressions.

“Of course we know what a godling is,” Riocco answered. “Gods are where magic comes from. Everyone knows that.”

The fact that everyone very much did not know what a godling was had been a recurring complication for Cora recently, but somehow, it seemed appropriate that these three in particular not only knew that piece of obscure magical trivia but seemed to think it was common knowledge.

“Right. Well, the issue is that there is now a new godling in control of Dragonvale. His burgeoning divine aspect is related to dragons. It seems that he has absolute control of dragons. Which means he now has the six remaining dragons under his thumb and doing his bidding, after he apparently willed Atraximos out of existence.”

Again, all of them rocked back at this news, which was no less than it deserved.

“Obviously, I haven’t conversed with this fellow,” said Cora, beginning to pace again. “If he knew anyone was coming for him… Well, that person and everything in their vicinity would have been annihilated in a storm of dragonfire.”

“You…are coming for him, then?” Riocco said carefully. “I presume that means you have reason to think this is necessary?”

“It’s hard to think anyone who got rid of the Dread could be all bad,” Greg agreed.

“All we’ve been able to do,” Cora continued, “is judge him by his actions. The man is no Atraximos, that much is true—the Dread just wanted to destroy things for the satisfaction of watching us all suffer. This one thinks…institutionally. He is building a power base. Despite having Izayaroa herself directly under his control, he has not moved openly to seize the throne of Rhivaak, which can only mean he understands the political shockwaves that would create and the enemies it would draw against him. Since the Dread fell, dragons have been seen to do things they never did before. Visiting the Hiiri, for one. And…”

“Abducting princesses,” Lilith whispered.

Cora nodded grimly. “As I said: a power base, under construction by someone who understands how to do so. He moves with enough subtlety to order supplies sent to his lair through a chain of intermediaries. And he is cruel enough to hire Shadow Guilds to assassinate the guards who protected his food shipments, after they apparently saw something they shouldn’t.”

At this, all three of them started violently, Greg cursing under his breath and causing such a discordance of noises from his musical contraption that he had apparently reacted completely without control, for once.

“Wait,” Riocco said, ashen-faced. “You mean we…”

“It’s an open question how much anyone knows about this,” said Cora. “The Silver Hound may or may not know who or what they’re doing business with; whatever they know, I doubt they are aware of his plans, as their standing rule is to stay out of conflict involving states, which a plot to seize the throne of Boisverd is. I seriously doubt the Crows know who hired them—they are too savvy to get involved in business that dangerous, and would’ve already gone to ground if they knew something like this was coming. Obviously, nobody seriously suspects you three were in on it. You needed to be silenced because you knew too much.”

“We do? Since when?” Greg demanded. “We don’t know anything the Silver Hound driver didn’t!”

“The Silver Hound is loyal only to coin,” Cora growled. “Their discretion is assured up front, and in any case where it might be in question, can be bought.”

“But what is it we might know?” Riocco asked almost plaintively. “I suppose we got a look at the defenses on that cottage, but so would anyone else sent on that mission! Getting rid of us would only mean the problem would recur with the next delivery.”

“Unless the next one wasn’t greeted by a dragonborn,” Lilith whispered. “Maybe…maybe she wasn’t supposed to reveal herself?”

“That,” Cora said, stopping again and turning to stare them down, “was not a dragonborn. Pheneraxa is the daughter of Atraximos the Dread and Emeralaphine the White Wind. As a full dragon, she is directly under the control of this godling. Whatever she might have been able to do, or try to do, to slip the leash, the godling’s powers have only grown since then. I don’t think any of them can resist him anymore.”

All three adventurers fell silent, staring at her wide-eyed and pale as ghosts.

“She asked for us specifically to come back,” Lilith whispered. “Oh…shit. A dragon wanted us to rescue her.”

Cora sighed, scrubbing distractedly at her disheveled hair. “This godling has greater ambitions than even Atraximos, and the means to secure them—not only his outright power, but his ability to think institutionally, to build a proper regime. Unless he is removed from consideration now, during the narrowing window before he grows too powerful to contest, the end result is likely to be a new, dragon-ruled empire encompassing the Evervales and Rhivaak—and that only for a start. There’s no telling how far such a tyrant could reach, with all that power under his command. Just with the hoards of Dragonvale he has assets we can barely imagine. I know he has already opened the Scroll of the Phantom Legion.”

All of them grimaced at that.

“Ah…right,” Cora sighed, rubbing her head again. “That also requires explanation. Okay, so, there used to be an empire called the Amaar-Darash Hegemony—”

“Lady Cora,” Riocco interrupted her with a frown, “I realize none of us had a noble’s education, but you don’t need to keep explaining common knowledge. Everyone knows what the Phantom Legion is.”

That was so outright silly that Cora was involuntarily struck silent for a moment. Even if it was up the alley of these three pretentious eccentrics, she genuinely couldn’t even imagine where they’d have heard of the Phantom Legion. Only historians specializing in Darashi civilization or the known treasures of Atraximos were likely to know of it.

Well, whatever. Their weirdness spared her having to waste time with tedious explanations this time; she’d take it.

“You speak of a narrowing window,” Riocco continued after a pause. “I take it to mean you have a plan, Lady Cora. And, since you’re telling us…that you want our help.”

Cora inhaled deeply to steady herself, repeatedly clenching her fists at her sides. “I have…a plan, yes. The problem… Well, the problems are the incredibly tight window of opportunity, and the fact I’m working alone.”

“Why alone?” Riocco asked evenly. “Everyone has a stake in this.”

“Because as soon as everyone knows about this, that godling will stop creeping around and act openly, and he has six dragons and an army of ghosts with which to act. It’s only while he’s still trying to be subtle that it’s even possible to contend with him. And because failure is a very real prospect, and if countermeasures against him do fail, he will retaliate. So yes, I am working alone—or I have been, until now. My mission is strictly off-the books; the Queen knows what is going on, but I have deliberately kept her in the dark as to details. If my attempts to thwart the godling fail, it’s imperative that the Crown have deniability. I need to be the only one targeted by his and his dragons’ revenge.”

All three of them winced, but Lilith and Riocco both nodded in understanding.

“But you’re here, telling us,” Greg pointed out. “Which can only mean you want our help.”

Cora halted her pacing again, clenching her fists once more. “I…do not want your help. Or anyone’s. But…I don’t think I can finish this without it.”

Riocco nodded, a faint smile lightening their face. “What’s the plan, then? Assassinate a godling?”

“I have no idea how to even theoretically do that,” Cora admitted. “I know they can die, but it’s usually the likes of gods and archmages and dragons that take them out. Godlings are… Well, they’re not standardized. The rules for each one are too different, but I have a feeling the dragon-aspected one is going to be especially durable. What I can do is contain him.”

“And…you need our help with that?” Greg guessed.

Cora resumed pacing and absently brushed at her hair again. “I…no. There’s a Timekeeper artifact under the palace that will work and I have help from the Flock to get him in it.”

She realized instantly that that was way too much information; they didn’t need to know any of those details. Shit… Cora was in much better shape than yesterday thanks to her nap, but it had not been nearly enough to have her back at her best. She had to tighten up somehow, any more bungles this close to the end could doom everything.

“The plan,” she pushed on before they could ask questions, “is to strike directly at Dragonvale. I’ve got the local bandit gangs to sign up, and I have secured a means to break the godling’s control of the Phantom Legion. I’m going to go in there, set off a three-way battle between dragons, ghosts, and bandits, and take advantage of the chaos to extract Princess Perseverance.”

“Ah,” Riocco said, raising their eyebrows sharply. “Yes, I can see why you don’t want to attempt that alone.”

“Escort quests are a headache under the best of circumstances,” Lilith grumbled. “That sounds like a nightmare.”

“In the best case scenario,” Cora said, still pacing, “there’s a chance the godling will just be…unable to get out of the confinement I’ve arranged, and that will be the end of that. The Dread will be gone, the remaining dragons will have reason to be grateful to us, and even the bandits out there will be decimated. But this is reality, and we can’t realistically count on the best case scenario. The plan therefore is to create such a mess of Dragonvale that if he does get out and make it back there, his dragons will have had the chance to flee somewhere he can’t grab them, his ghost army will have fucked off to the Cryptlands with the rest of the undead, and his plans will be so ruined that the adventuring guilds and state agencies can figure out how to kill a godling before he starts to rebuild.”

“A noble purpose with a coin toss’s chance of succeeding.” Riocco paused only to look at each of their comrades, both of whom nodded—Greg with a broad grin, Lilith with a resolute scowl. “We’re in. What’s our timetable?”

“The timetable is right now,” Cora said. “I’ve just gotten a tip that he’s sent the three older and more dangerous dragons off on a mission that will take them off the board for at least a few days. There will never be a better opportunity, and this is likely to be the last one before it’s too late. I am going to go spring the trap on the godling, and then I’ll be moving on Dragonvale.”

“Wait,” said Lilith, frowning, “don’t you need to be in Dragonvale to do that?”

“I’ve made preparations,” Cora said, shaking her head. “I think I can tempt him into it from a distance, and if that doesn’t work, that’s what the Shepherd’s people are helping with.”

Damn it, she did it again. The appropriate response to that question was a vague platitude and appeal to “need to know.” Get it together.

“I have…emptied the Palace of its treasury of teleportation artifacts,” Cora admitted. “I can get four people instantly to Dragonvale, and then five people instantly to a secure third location where hopefully the dragons will not think to look for a rescued princess.” She hesitated, looking over at them again, and deliberately straightened her shoulders. “…and then, four people to another secured location to lay a false trail, in case they track us. At least one of them might have the ability.”

The Lone Wolves nodded. “We move out now, then?” Riocco said, standing.

Cora hesitated.

Unable to account for why, she found herself frozen. Looking at them.

“Look,” she burst out suddenly, “you guys are idiots.”

All three young adventurers made wry expressions that seemed more amused than offended. Well, of course, there was no way this was the first time they’d been told that.

“But,” Cora heard herself continuing, “you’re…surprisingly competent, and you’re good people. You should… You really shouldn’t take this job.”

What the hells are you doing?! she silently screamed inside her own head.

“If we don’t,” Greg said airily, “who will?”

“You’ve made it sound as if you have no other prospects,” Lilith graveled.

“Listen, I…” Cora anxiously raked fingers through her hair again, struggling with herself. “That’s true, but… Look, the odds are…they’re not great. You didn’t ask to get dragged into this and you’ve already been unfairly made targets just for doing your jobs, and this… I don’t think I’ve oversold it, okay? An attack on Dragonvale is…”

“So we could all die,” Lilith said dourly, shrugging. “What of it? What do you think this entire profession is like?”

“I’m just saying, it would be smarter if you didn’t take this one. I…I don’t want to be responsible for…”

What are you doing? Shut up, SHUT UP. After all the effort it took to get them to this point—we need them!

“Lady Cora,” Riocco said quietly, calmly. “Do you think you will succeed in your mission without our help.”

“I…no,” she admitted.

They nodded. “And with it?”

Cora sucked air in sharply through her teeth. “…maybe.”

“Do you have any additional help on which you can call?”

She could practically feel the weight of Clarent’s presence, imprisoned in that djinn bottle, which was then imprisoned in her own personal aura storage.

“Not…that I could rally in time. Nor without tipping off the enemy and making this impossible.”

Riocco nodded. “Then you did the right thing, coming here. Wherever destiny calls, the Lone Wolves shall answer.”

Of all the damned things, they actually struck poses again.

“Let’s move out,” Riocco declared.

“Ah—no, not… Two hours,” Cora said, momentarily interrupted by a strange lump in her throat. “Give me two hours to get back to the Palace and spring the trap. Then I will meet you outside the south gate.”

“Even better,” Riocco said, nodding. “That will give us time to lay some preparations.”

“Tell no one,” Cora ordered, “especially your guildmates. This is the kind of thing the Herons will jump into with both feet, and they’re already being watched—if anything as big as an adventuring guild moves toward Dragonvale, the window closes. And…yeah, make…preparations. I can’t exactly say how soon we’ll be able to return.”

The three adventurers nodded at the Court Mage, and none of them noticed the very faint shifting of one small section of the baseboard along the far wall.

***

“A godwing?” Kefni asked minutes later, in a sewer passageway close to the hidden bolt-hole which led to a listening spot adjacent to the particular meeting room in the Herons’ headquarters to which Kiff had obligingly guided the Court Mage when she came blustering in demanding it.

“That’s what she said,” Kiff replied, nodding.

“Wight, so…” Kefni grimaced, and her ears and tail flicked in a pattern that conveyed a quick message.

apology / necessary / tell no one

“Is that… ‘Wing’ as in ‘fwap fwap,’ ow ‘wing’ as in ‘awound,’ ow… Um… ‘Wing’ as in ‘not pawt of this wanguage?’”

Kiff heaved a sigh, then choked on the smell, having forgotten they were in a sewer. Waving a hand in front of his face, he grimaced bitterly as he laboriously contorted his tongue. “A godlllling. Fuck, ow. How does Gwandmothew do that? I’ve heawd hew do it fow houws at a time!”

“Hewps to do it in a pwace whewe you can bweathe pwopewwy,” Kefni said sympathetically. “Awso, Gwandmothew used to wowk in the bwothew at ouw age, she can do aww kinds of things with hew tongue.”

“Thanks fow that mentaw image, Kefni. Anyway, I guess you don’t know what a godwing is, eithew?”

“Nevew heawd of it, but it sounds impowtant enough to be pawwing awound with the bwack dwagon, aww wight. Pieces awe fawwing into pwace now. Mowe impowtantwy, I know whewe Cowa is going. I didn’t know that thing undew the Pawace was Timekeepew wowk, but I can get in to have a wook at it.”

Kiff blinked twice. “Wait, you can get into secuwed vauwts in the Pawace?”

Kefni ruffled his ears. “Gwandmothew didn’t put me in chawge because of my sunny disposition and nice tits. Anyway, she knows mowe than I do about evewything; go wepowt aww this to hew. I’ww sneak a peek at what Cowa is doing with that thing and that guy; wet hew know I’m being cawefuw and wiww be back to wepowt as soon as I can. Hopefuwwy she knows what some of this nonsense means and what to do about it.”

He nodded. “Got it. I’ww teww hew, but…actuawwy do be cawefuw, okay, cousin? The Pawace is the Pawace and that mage gets ten pewcent cwaziew evewy time I see hew. I’m definitewy steawing aww youw stuff if you die, and even so, I don’t want you to.”

“Wove you too, cousin. Wet’s get moving.”