Soul Fire Sale, chapter 9. (Patreon)

Here we are. Please enjoy another long one.

The night had been nice and quiet so far; Amiera had cooked a stew and hearty bread for us, and it had even been seasoned well. The tea was good, and no one had taken offense that I'd checked it for drugs and poison. I knew Amiera had noticed the spell, and even knew what it was judging from the widened eyes, but not a word was said and her smile stayed on.

She did stay and eat with us when I asked her too, and seemed grateful for the opportunity to get off her feet. Then again, she could just be trying to butter us up.

The rest of the town? They were definitely pushing some kind of agenda. There had been no shortage of people coming to the door; some of them had even knocked, to offer some tidbits of food or sweets or gear.

I let Oliver answer, and if he took something, it was on him. I wasn't about to myself because I could almost physically feel the intent to tie us to this town - in effect, to bribe us to do something. Likely to take care of the wolves. The other? To bribe us to stay.

However, the licorice had been tempting. Actual licorice, that looked like it and everything. How had these people made licorice? I thought that was something modern; but they clearly didn't lack the tools for it.

Maybe I'd take some after we did something for these people. I wouldn't feel bad about it then; maybe the other village was weighing on my mind. Regardless of how prosperous this one seemed, how hard they were trying to make it seem rich and quaint, the kingdom itself clearly wasn't.

Loam was still in her chair, watching me watch the outside. The moon was high in the sky, and go time was pretty much now. Oliver had snuck off to sleep, and I could hear his faint snoring from what was no doubt a very comfy bed at the other end of a very open door.

The glow from the cook fire was the only light from inside, and it didn't do much to back-light me. I was watching the surprisingly still busy streets - the people walking around the place and throwing glances at the house every now and again.

There were a surprising number of people striding past as if going somewhere with weapons or large tools that could be weapons near to hand. That hammer looked like it could brain me in one strike.

The blacksmith carrying it casually in one hand, swinging it along idly as he walked? Also looked like he could brain me in one strike.

It was midnight for sure; all these people should be in bed.

I got up. Loam stirred at the action, her gaze following me as I moved.

I followed the sound of snoring and stopped in the doorway before I might see something I might regret. "Oliver. Time to go."

The man stirred, and his sleep-filled voice came back: "Right, got it. I'm coming."

I came back and sat back down, just as another guy walked past. He had a bow slung on his back, and a quiver full of arrows. Light glinted off the pommel of a considerable dagger that might as well be a sword it was so large.

Oliver came walking up, settling the clothes he'd obviously been sleeping in. Good.

"Let's go. Loam, follow me." It was time to earn our paycheck, such as it was.

By the time I was out the door and face-on to the street, the street was empty. Not a soul in sight. Not even the archer, who had to have booked it to make it around that corner.

Oliver blinked more sleep away, pulling himself around Loam, who had stopped when I had. "Something wrong?"

Now that was a loaded question. "No, nothing. Time to go hunt some wolves."

The plan for hunting was simple. We'd go out, and they'd find us. What we did from there depended on what they did. I wanted to go up the mountain though, at least a little way; something was tickling the back of my mind. Why would the wolves' behavior change? What had happened, exactly?

I'd not like to find that out at night, but the wolves would likely hide from us during the day, so that would make it harder to ask them.

I wasn't a druid, so my options there were limited, but even so, I might be able to get my message across. Assuming they didn't just rush to attack us.

A whispered spell had me sensing all the people around us, and just beyond, all the little lives that one might expect to find near a village like this. Some birds, some sleeping squirrel things, something that might be frogs? This far and up a mountain? Probably not, but something that somehow felt frog-like.

And there, in front of the main gate into the village, aimed at them like two furry missiles and seemingly alert - two lives that could only be wolves. The same intelligent wolves that had been casing the joint, in all probability.

The sentries were at the gate, both alert and ready to open them. No one had warned them we were coming, for sure.

"Good evening, champions. You wish to leave, at this unholy hour?"

I guess there was a script to stick to. how disappointed would he be if we didn't follow it? "Yes. We're going to try and solve your wolf problem before it really starts."

The other guy was already moving. "Then I wish you luck," he replied, swinging one of the large doors out wide. I moved before it got too far away; I didn't want to be responsible for a wolf decided to suicide by slipping in for food.

"Thanks, I appreciate that. We need all the luck we can get. See you in the morning, with that luck. Well, you or whoever replaces you here."

"I look forward to it," the first one said, with a smile that might be genuine.

The gate closed, almost slapping Oliver in the ass. "Wake up already."

"I'm trying," he retorted. "Did you even get any sleep?"

"No. I didn't want to oversleep, and a few extra hours awake won't kill me."

The wolves didn't move as I led us around to the left, closer to them. They didn't even blink; if I didn't already know where they were with my spell, I'd never have spotted them.

Oliver continued to act the fool: "Well, don't come crying to me when you're asleep on your feet."

"Fat chance of that. I'll just get loam to carry me." I would have to get super lazy for that, but I wouldn't rule it out just yet.

"Fair. That's a better option. Not sure I could carry you back anyway."

What the... "Did you just call me fat?"

Oliver stopped, pinned by my gaze. "...No?"

I turned away. "Then you just called yourself weak. I can live with that."

What had that been? Why would I get angry if Oliver called me fat? I wasn't, this body was a healthy weight for the size. Maybe even a few pounds shy of it. I'd never been what anyone would call healthy before, so this was a bit fun. Even so, I was beginning to get why the fairer sex might take offense at poorly chosen words.

It was fun watching Oliver sputter and backpedal, after all.

Unfortunately, I must be grinning, 'cause he caught on pretty quick. "You!"

I shrugged. "You said it, I didn't. Got to watch those words, wizard."

"Fair enough. Maybe you can help me with that by calling me out and keeping me honest."

"I'm a big fan of honesty," I replied. "I wasn't kidding when I suggested you could use a few push ups a day right now."

"Well, if we're being honest, then, so could you. Upper body strength is always helpful."

Right, my arms were basically just pipe cleaners with just a hint of definition. I'd need to get on that... later.

Now behind us, the wolves moved. I tried hard to keep it cool. The slope started up in earnest, and I put some effort in. I'd love to fly, but flying here would only serve to make us unapproachable. We needed the wolves to take the bait. Or to not; either way would give us some idea of what we were working with.

Oliver pulled up to my side, just far enough away for Loam to swing her sword between us, if she was so inclined. A wise precaution. He was looking around curiously, and had his right hand crooked in a rather odd manner. It looked mildly uncomfortable like that.

I'd bet he had a spell saved there somehow, ready to cast.

I could check with a spell of my own... but that seemed wasteful. "Remember, don't shoot first."

"Easy for you to say. You've got Loam."

Heh. "Jelly? I'll make one for you later. Pending some tests. Don't worry, she'll protect you too - so long as you meet certain conditions."

Oliver's reply sounded more grateful than pissed. No plans to betray me yet, and that was good. "Right. Thanks for that."

Then he grinned. "Can I... guide the process a bit? I mean, you can cook, but...."

Gross. Loam was clay, with an elemental pseudo-soul stuck in her. "You've heard the one about too many cooks in the kitchen, right? Besides, I really don't know how Loam turned out that way; I was aiming for Conan clone."

Oliver glanced back: "Arnold? A total meat-shield? Yeah, I can sort of get that. Things went very amiss then. I wonder how."

I was sure I knew, now. Should I tell him? "I think it was a result of the method I used to get her done quickly. You don't normally need to use your own blood for the spell. At least not the way I did it. A drop for control normally, or if you're making a one-use, a few drops of your target's blood if you can get it."

Now that was a serious look. "Did I ever tell you, your class magic is scary? I can't imagine something like that coming after me with intent. I don't want to imagine it."

"It's just a few drops of blood, don't be a baby."

"It's not the blood, it's what the blood represents. Blood for control like that implies something you really don't want to deal with getting out of control."

There was no way Loam would slip my control. I'd feel a certain way about that, leading with irony, but Loam wasn't really a sentient being; she just looked like one. Acted somewhat like one.

"I mean you got me on the poisons and toxins thing, but golems are sweethearts. Big dumb sweethearts."

I could feel Oliver rolling his eyes at me, even if I couldn't see it in the moonlight. "If you say so. Loam's still almost killed you twice."

She had, but that was beside the point. I waved it away. "Details, details. She's getting better."

She was getting better at understanding me. It was cool, and also frightening.

"Well?"

I knew what Oliver wanted to ask but couldn't. "Yeah."

Oliver couldn't see or hear them, and couldn't detect them, so he was asking me. He'd be doing that a lot, in all likelihood.

The wolves were following us closely, both of them. They had both left the gate and were shadowing us, as we'd planned. I'd hoped to get both, but I'd have made do with one - it seemed they liked the buddy system too. How long till we met their pack?

It turned out, not long. Just another mile up, another dozen similarly sized life signs rushed to meet us. Soundlessly, they rushed, right up to about forty yards from us. Then they stopped.

I'd perhaps tensed, but I'd not stopped. I wasn't about to tip them off.

But when the first two, the ones behind us, kept coming up, and even better, made noise doing it, noise that we had no choice but to hear, it shocked me.

I stopped and turned right after Oliver, trying to make it look genuine. Loam stepped between me and the noise, which meant the majority of the almost two dozen wolves were now at our unprotected backs, and I had no real way to warn anyone without blowing our cover, such as it was.

It was nicely done; a simple but very effective ambush.

The wolves continued, however. They popped out of cover, the white fur of the left-most one gleaming in the soft light, and the brown fur of the one on the right still almost camouflaging it even now. Both were... huge when actually looking at them, and this close. Were wolves normally this large?

Even so, the others didn't move; they flattened. The one with white fur stepped a single step closer, and looked me right in the eye. Not a single glance at Oliver. Loam might as well not exist, for all that she had a sword pointed at the beast.

How did all these people, and even a wolf, look directly to me first thing? I was beginning to think I had something on my face. Maybe words like 'gullible leader here' on my forehead or something.

No, don't be silly, my forehead wasn't big enough for all that. 'Idiot', maybe.

Hey, that was something; barring any weird diseases, my forehead wouldn't grow as I aged! Silver linings, and all that.

The white furred wolf took a step closer while looking at me the entire time.

Right, the behavior was clear, which meant I should be careful here. "Loam, only attack if a wolf pounces or bites."

Loam didn't stand down, but I knew she heard me, and I knew she understood. Good enough. Now, did the wolves understand?

The white one seemed to; she raised herself up a bit more - so big, she reached my hips at her shoulder - and walked slowly past me. All without looking away. When she got past me, she turned back, and all but danced in front of me, close enough that I could extend and touch her if I wanted.

No noise, no vocalization, but it was fairly clear this one wanted me to follow.

The other, her companion (Why was I so sure the white one was a her?) inched past me, wiggling on his belly in clear submission to join up with his dancing companion.

I turned to them both: "Alright, show me."

I didn't have to say it twice; the white one took off, and the brown one joined her in an instant.

I joined the caravan at my best speed, which really wasn't much. I still couldn't see the others, despite them outnumbering us. My spell revealed them pacing us, circling us, but keeping to the shadows despite outnumbering us.

Oliver was puffing gamely along behind, and from what little I could see of him, he dearly wanted to ask me a few questions. He should have figured it out already?

I really didn't want to resort to flying, or worse, having Loam carry me, but there was a bit of a power play here; we wouldn't ever outpace anything on four legs, but allowing them to out-stamina us? My gut told me that was a mistake.

Even so, going uphill in the dark was something we wouldn't be able to do for long, even if we didn't step in a gopher hole and snap an ankle.

Right, power plays were stupid; I pulled out my broom, and that was all Oliver needed to stop and cast with a grateful smile.

I stayed low, of course, and kept it slow, but even in the dark, flying was faster than walking or even running was.

The white wolf had stopped for a moment, then resumed as soon as Oliver was in the air. She was easy to spot in the dim light, and came back for us whenever she got too far ahead. Every time she would meet my eyes, making sure I knew she wanted me there.

Right up until she flattened the way her companion had before, about two hours up the mountain. Simultaneously, the others did the same. Barely wriggling, making little if any noise.

The white furred wolf looked to me, then ahead. Then back to me.

Right. I floated up slowly on my broom, as soundless as I could be. There was something ahead; something this wolf wanted me to see. I kept a tree between me and whatever it was, just in case.

Waiting for my eyes to adjust and pick it out was a pain, but there would be no attempt to hurry the process. The snuffling from beyond us made sure of that.

My eyes finally picked it out enough; it was a bear... sort of. If a bear could somehow reproduce with a gorilla and then somehow get beaten half to death with an ugly stick.

There was more than enough of bear in there to worry about, and more than enough of gorilla to worry more; those arms looked far too articulate for a set of jaws that threatening to be a thing. Were those... they were. Arrows, still stuck in the hide of the creature, seeming to cause it no issue at all despite the tell-tale stains of dried blood.

Whatever it was, the thing was not alive. At the least, my spell couldn't see it, for whatever reason. It looked like something a pack of wolves larger than a mastiff might have trouble with. Even a pack as large as this one. Hell, it looked like the kind of thing an army might have problems with.

I was certain Loam could take it alone, if it came to that.

A slight whine caught my attention. The white furred wolf was looking at me again.

I wondered how much she understood. I held up a finger, and looked to Oliver.

Oliver was taking his own look. He looked to me and shrugged.

Really, it was the arrows, broken off but still sticking from the hide of the thing before us that decided me. The thing was either an attempted man killer or a successful man killer.

"Loam, kill it."

My golem didn't need to be told twice; she was already past me with her sword cocked as I finished the sentence and started to climb. The best way to avoid something that big and without wings was to take to the air.

The wolf now under me howled, a bloodcurdling sound that brought goosebumps; in response, all the wolves moved as one, lunging into an obvious attack.

There was a problem with that, however. The howl caused a shift in the small clearing the thing had been in, and what I'd taken for two small hillocks or bumps of earth stood up into two more of the same creature I'd just sent Loam at. Smaller versions of the thing, but even so, three were much worse odds than one, even with the wolves here and helping.

Fire remained an awful spell element to use in a forest, for all that it would likely be a weakness of these things. Lightning was right out for the same reason; I didn't want to start a forest fire. That left me with a bit of an issue; how could I damage these things without a lot of collateral damage?

With a shout of "fireball!" Oliver joined the fight.

The spell burst between all three of the creatures, which was good targeting, but I lost track of the damage because the explosion blinded me instantly, and likely everyone else involved but the enemy (because that was my kind of luck).

I shook my eyes clear, and found that the new fires merrily crackling away helped me see. None of the wolves had been hit, thankfully. At least, if they had, they weren't down.

We would be having a talk later, but now wasn't the time.

The spell did work at least, and all three of the creatures were now on fire. I didn't need to use anything drastic or even flashy here to get the job done. Right, Time to see how good that was.

I whipped an arm around to point, more because I felt I needed to and I was following that instinct, and moved my mouth through words that were somehow both foreign and familiar to me.  The beam that came from my outstretched finger was red, mixed with some black and tinged a very unhealthy looking green. It struck the first creature and the effect was immediate.

The creature slowed, appearing for all the world to swipe at Loam as if swimming in the air instead of cutting through it. Loam had all the time in the world to take the limb with her blade in a move that almost looked as if she knew what she was doing, and reverse the blade to sink it deep into the torso of whatever this was.

The wolves flew by, all lunging into drive-by attacks, all trying to go for the normal target of wolves, the hamstrings at the ankle. There were so many flying around that the attacks looked co-ordinated, even though they couldn't possibly be.

The white wolf was down there too, growling and standing her ground, acting the part of the decoy.

Not against the first and largest one, of course; Loam was fighting that one alone, and doing alright against it.

I fired off two more of the same spell and hit both the other creatures. The spell of weakness affected them just as well as the first, and they slowed down.

One took a shot: blue dagger-like bolts of force slammed into it, knocking it away from the white furred wolf.

Loam took a shot, half blocking it. She was knocked back a few steps but gamely went back in. Across the small field, a wolf also clipped by the smallest creature flew faster than Oliver had when we tested the spell - right into a tree. The crack rang out loud enough to raise the dead.

It almost masked another crack.

That crack was from the first creature PULLING UP A TREE. Pulling up a tree while looking directly at me, despite Loam sticking her very large sword right through the thing.

One large hand batted Loam aside again, and the other took a grip on that tree and threw it like a spear. At me.

Up and left, up and left, up and left!

The tree tumbled through the air, end over end, and just barely passed under me.

I cringed at the crash behind me; that surely woke up the village. It certainly woke up everything else.

Under me, Loam finished her cut, and the thing flopped in to the ground in two separate twitching halves. She looked to me briefly before slamming her foot into one portion of the head. That section stopped moving immediately - but the other was still going.

Undead of some kind? That made sense since my spell wasn't registering them. Whatever they were, they weren't weak.

I had an attack for that; undead weren't something my new class was great as destroying, but there were a few options. At least assuming Loam could keep the things busy. She seemed alright so far, despite taking a few hits.

The third creature was trying to close on Oliver, but wasn't having much luck through all the shards of force being slammed into it. The man himself was backpedaling desperately, which I didn't blame him for. Had he lost his flight spell?

There were also two wolves on the ground, bleeding out. Two other than the one that bounced off a tree.

I gathered my power, running on instinct I barely understood I had. My next spell was subtle and hard to control, with some lead time before it took effect. The tiny particles I couldn't even see but felt nonetheless as they popped into existence and settled onto the second creature.

Loam was standing, her foot through the half-skull of the other half of the first creature. "Loam, kill the creature after Oliver."

I was sure Oliver could take the thing, but not without pulling out more fire, and none of us wanted that. With Loam in the way, the panicking mage would have all the time in the world to plink it down.

The second one was dead (or more dead) and just didn't know it yet. I had to take its attention for at least thirty seconds. Even so, this one wasn't large enough to throw trees at me, surely....

It was. It just chose a smaller tree - or in this case, a stone. The stone was a better choice, being more aerodynamic, and I could feel the breeze as it went by my head. I'd ducked, but I wasn't sure that helped at all.

Even so, I ordered the broom into a dive and pulled a hand off just to throw sparks. Simple sparks, as something to garner the thing's attention and maybe save a few wolves.

The thing proved it had some intelligence by gearing up to take a swipe at me once I got in range. I pulled up short at double the thing's estimated range and backed up as quick as possible.

As expected, the thing charged. Also, as expected, the thing managed two step before my spell finally took hold.

The smell was atrocious as the thing melted, all those little particles that settled into the hide igniting briefly before smoking out into a powerful acid which would melt it completely. Given enough time, that is. Still more time needed.

The head of one of the creatures, minus a body, slammed into the one still trying to catch up to me as I once again took to the air. Loam had beheaded it, apparently, and was now making her way over.

Correction; she had already made her way over. My golem was fast as hell.

Her combat choices, however, left much to be desired. She flat out rammed her shoulder into the obviously smoking, obviously melting creature. Her sword stroke was better; it took both the arms off the thing.

The creature shoulder checked her back, because of course it did, even with two stumps bleeding out rotten clots of blood, it had the mass. It bore Loam to the ground, trying to bite her, even as it melted.

Shit. Loam could be taking damage from my own spell. Was she immune? I couldn't cancel it, even with half its mass gone, it was still twitching.

Loam put her sword right through the thing's heart and cut up, freeing herself. Thankfully, I sure as hell didn't want to help with that; putting hands on that whatever that was? All the way down my list of things to do ever.

Loam stood up, and she was only smoking a little. This was good.

I positioned myself above her and recited a simple spell, holding my water skin out; the water I'd either summoned or multiplied washed over her, acting like a chemical wash station back home, and putting her out.

And Loam, the nut that she was, had her face up and tried drinking it all, her throat making huge gulps as long as the deluge lasted.

She seemed disappointed when I moved away to use the spell to put out the small fires. Oliver had started. At least she wasn't burning.

Speaking of Oliver, he was doubled over and panting. "You need more cardio."

"Tell me all about it," he ground out breathlessly. "That was beyond scary. What even were those things?"

"Something the wolves needed our help with." They had been trying to enlist the villagers, but the villagers didn't get it. Not that the villagers would have been able to do much; whatever those things were, they were beyond tough.

No beginner mob, that was for sure. There were four dead wolves down there, being dragged into the center of the clearing.

The remaining wolves gathered around, the white furred one at the highest point in their loose circle. She looked to the fallen, her fallen, and put her snout up to the sky.

Her howl was piercing and full of grief.

I should do something here; we'd fought together, after all. Burial? No, too unsure.

I landed next to Loam and walked close.

The white furred wolf followed with her eyes, but did not stop. That was a good sign; I knelt at the outer edge of the circle, staying just clear, and bowed my head.

The prayer was something I hadn't said in years, but I still remembered it. The Lord's Prayer with a bit extra thrown in, asking whatever gods existed to see to the souls of these wolves. Even if he was not here, or dead, or had no power here, they were the only words I knew right now that worked.

I did not doubt they had souls.

At last, the wolves stopped, all at once, as if cut off by a puppeteer's hand. I stood slowly.

The white furred wolf was looking at me, of course; they all were. At some point Oliver had come up beside and just a bit behind me, and I could hear Loam shift behind me.

Now for the tricky part. Proper care of bodies to prevent disease or other weirdness was a thing, but would they allow it?

With a word, I lit a fire above my hand. A small fire... a non-threatening flame. The white furred wolf's eyes regarded it, then me. She was the only one that mattered for this; there was no need to watch the others.

Slowly, carefully, I took a step and gestured down. Toward the fresh corpses. I did not look away.

The white furred wolf regarded me for a moment, then, with what I could only describe as a yip, backed up while facing me. The others in her pack followed suit soundlessly.

I took another step, then another, getting in range. No attack yet; that was a good sign.

I couldn't do this without fuel. Oliver probably could, but something told me these wolves would not take us tossing a fireball at their dead as a sign of respect.

I had an answer for that, and it was something I could manage with a little effort and some seeds. The plants wouldn't mind.

I put a seed from my bag at each corner, then cast my spell; quick and dirty, which meant the stuff would burn through it's life force, but that was fine. I was no druid, but with some more focus than I'd liked and the help of some kinetic spells, I managed to make a pretty good bier, lifting the wolf bodies up off the ground before the plants I'd coaxed into living died.

Now to make sure we didn't have a different kind of issue. "Loam. I want you to raise a small wall of clay around this structure."

The clay would fire from the heat, but not break. At least not immediately. I couldn't stop the random ember, but it was unlikely anything would travel since the wind was gentle tonight. I'd likely still have to watch the fire for awhile, especially considering what I needed to do next, but I could give the wolves their distance.

Loam stepped forward, using the unique magic granted her type of golem, and raising a layer of clay around the makeshift bier that might be a couple inches wide, as I requested. She did it in a matter of seconds.

I knew she could do stone as well, but stone took more out of her, which meat I'd need to give more mana to her later. That, and she was bearing some war wounds; long scratches gouged into her, and her left arm was twisted a bit. There was also a dent in her forehead that would have been lethal to a person.

The clay seemed to be oozing back in to fill the gaps, as it should, but it was taking awhile. That was sobering; anything that could hurt even one of the weakest of my creations was something dangerous to us. Healing would also take mana, and I didn't want to stress things more than I already had. These spells hadn't exactly been cheap.

I mean, could I go ahead and cast another twenty or thirty of them before getting winded? Probably. Did I want to? Not at all.

I cupped fire again, and this time applied it to the edge of the new bier; the wolves were still watching silently and seemingly with infinite patience. The flames caught immediately, and I stepped back and lowered my head again.

I did keep an eye on my new erstwhile allies. I wasn't stupid.

They hadn't even moved a muscle. Now they were watching the flames at least, and that was a good thing. "Loam, gather the bodies of those creatures... our enemies. Take them a hundred paces away from here, to the North."

That would be at the edge of the clearing and far enough away to avoid anything bad happening. But how to dispose of them without pissing off the wolves? I couldn't use fire, not while giving their own dead a standard viking funeral; they might think I was honoring both sets of dead equally, and take that as an insult.

Hmm. I was better with rot anyway; I'd just use the spell I used in combat again. It should work even better since none of those things would be moving. I backed away, leaving the wolves to their moment, and joined loam at the far corner of the clearing.

I wasn't helping her, though: fuck that. That blood was rotten, and I wasn't touching it. Loam would be fine since she wasn't alive.

Oliver had the same idea I did - just hanging out and watching.

If Loam was mad about it, she didn't say anything. Of course, she couldn't talk, but she could pantomime well enough. It was unlikely there would be some golem revolution in the future in any case, as even if I pissed them off, they needed my mana to survive.

Loam finally finished. "Loam step back four paces."

That got her clear of the corpses. Clear enough that my spell didn't hit her, the flakes of wrath (heh) drifting down peacefully before igniting into a roiling mass that ate into the remains immediately with a bubbling hiss.

Loam was extremely filthy now; my golem had no concept of keeping clean yet. I hoped I could work on that, but I couldn't give her a bath yet. Instead, I shook out a sack I'd liberated from the village's house.

"Loam put the heads of the enemies we killed in here."

She took the bag and dutifully piled the heads in; the burlap or whatever it was started soaking up the half-clotted and rotten fluids immediately.

I wouldn't be using that thing again.

I settled in to wait, sitting on my broom. The fire was burning merrily, and while the mess was designed to collapse inward, some sparks were already taking to the air before fading out. The wolves were still there.

Loam joined me, standing easily. The bag left behind. Hmm, was that a choice on her part or an oversight on mine? It was true I hadn't told her to carry it yet, but she had determined to come stand beside me, so....

Oliver pulled himself up to my other side. He just sat in the filthy battered weeds and watched the burbling snapping mess next to us corrode.

At least decayed as it was, it didn't smell as bad. Somehow.

We stayed there until the decaying mess finished decaying, and the fire tumbled in on itself with a muted crash and a small explosion of sparks and embers. None caught.

The wolves had waited the entire time, and now, as the morning sun began to hint that it was there, they turned around and left. The white furred one was last, and she favored us with one last look, a quick but regal dip of her head. Then she too was gone, as if she'd never been.

Oliver waited a moment, then broke the spell cast upon us with a question: "So, why burn the bodies?"

"I didn't want the villagers or their hunters to come back here and skin the corpses for the gold they'd earn doing so, mostly. They led us here to what was obviously a great threat and fought with us when they didn't have to. They went so far as to ask us for help, in their own way. It didn't seem right to let that happen, or for them to just rot away. A viking funeral seemed the least we could do to honor such obvious courage."

That took the man back a bit. "Damn," he said at last. "When you put it like that, I can't say no."

"It was all on me anyway. You didn't need to help at all. Well, other than to watch and make sure I wasn't getting played."

"Maybe not, but I would have if I knew," my companion replied.

"I couldn't tell you without potentially disturbing the wolves. Last rites are supposed to be mostly quiet, excepting for outpourings of grief."

The wolves had definitely done that. "the hard part is going to be convincing the villagers to leave them alone. Explaining ourselves. The heads will help, and with luck, they will be worth something."

I wasn't sorry I'd turned money away by letting the wolves go; I was certain they wouldn't be bothering the village now that whatever these things had been were taken care of.

"Yeah, I hope so. Convincing those people probably won't be easy."

"Loam, pick up the sack you filled with heads earlier." It was time to leave. Poor Loam had some substances congeal on her. I was not looking forward to teaching her how to take a bath. At least she wouldn't complain about the water being cold.

I finally turned back to Oliver. "I'll let you explain it. I'm going to be busy with something."

Loam snagged the bag, and I lowered myself to walk. "Loam, follow me. Be prepared to defend me should something attack."

My spell was still active, but those things we just killed, whatever they were, proved that not everything out here would be detected by it.

Oliver stayed close.

There was no need to use a light spell; it was that odd time where the night was darkest, when it seemed like the sun was gathering all the light to itself in preparation to vomit it all back up as it rose, but there was still enough to see by. I had not expected to be out here the entire night, but here we were.

At least I hadn't needed to fumble around anywhere. Guidance was great, even if it was a little tense. I'd still be watching my back, but I knew the wolves themselves were gone; only small creatures were around us.

The walk back was slow and uneventful. Anyone who says I tripped over roots and stones was a lying liar who lied. It would be understandable, of course, since I was essentially in stupid ball-stomper boots, in a forest. not that it really seemed to matter; my footing was sure so long as I chose my steps with something resembling care.

Nothing attacked us, and I managed to get my steps in without just falling over. I wouldn't be good for much else, though.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when we made it to the gates; they opened when we got close.

The guards were not the ones that had been on duty when we left. Not that I expected that - but I did see them down the road in the distance, so we'd just missed the switch.

The new sentries both took note of us, and loam behind us.

"So you made it then!" The younger one said, in a voice that was far too chipper for this early in the morning.

"Yeah, the mission was a success," Oliver replied. "Anything you need from us?"

"No," the older guard answered. "Go right in, and report to the mayor. Assuming he's awake yet. He may not be."

That was a bit wry of the man. I approved. "Good. I could use some sleep."

The man smirked at me, but said nothing. Very wise on his part.

We went through, which felt a little lax, but I wasn't going to complain about it. Seriously, did they not have doppelgangers or something in this world? I'd ask later.

The house beckoned. I led us to it. There were only a few people out and about at this hour, which also seemed a little odd; I thought people in more primitive civilizations were all early risers due to the lack of electricity or some such?

Whatever, not my problem. "Loam, leave the bag here, near the door."

I caught myself pointing to make it clear. There was no chance I'd be allowing rotten heads in to stink up my living space. And they did in fact stink; I could smell them from here.

Part of that was Loam herself, of course. "Loam, go to the bathtub - the large tub full of water and get inside it. You can set your sword in the corner here."

Loam had watched me bathe before, so she should know where it was, and sure enough, she set her sword aside and stalked into the bathroom.

"Clothes?" Oliver asked as the splash echoed into the kitchen.

"Her clothes are worse off than she is; Clay can simply be wiped clean of almost anything. That shirt? Those pants? Should probably be burned. I'm going to try and save them though."

In the kitchen, there were some lovely chemicals in a cabinet; I'd seen them while Amiera had been cleaning. They weren't the stuff I was used to, but my alchemical knowledge skill whispered dark secrets into my ear. Dark secrets on how to clean and sterilize, in this case.

Homemade soap? Easy for one of my skills, even something that would be considered industrial back home. Something that would react to the presence of blood? Also doable.

I snagged the relevant containers, glass bottles mostly with a couple of boxes of powders mixed in, and went in to face the music. As expected, Loam was sitting in my old and slightly dirty bathwater, getting it much dirtier by the second. Also, as expected, she had not taken her clothes off.

I put my cloak aside and decided to just trust the enchantments for the dress itself; It wasn't like I had any other clothes to change into; I'd only been able to snag and smuggle out a couple extra pairs of unmentionables. However, this dress was strong - so it should surely be able to handle a medieval analog to bleach.

I dumped the stuff in while loam watched with what I'd call curiosity on anyone else. I should probably measure it, but why? I wasn't looking for a scale at this unholy hour and the worst that could happen is I damaged Loam's already damaged clothes; my golem would be fine no matter how bad I screwed up.

I almost forgot. For this, the gloves had to come off. I took the rag and swirled the frigid water around till the liquid went milky. Then I scrubbed. The last thing we needed is for either of us to touch this golem and get some form of disease from a long standing virus or bacteria settled in some nook or cranny invisible to the naked eye.

I was not gentle, but of course Loam didn't complain. Not even when I turned to her face and hair.

I took my golem's clothes off - wow, that spell could cook - and repeated the process, this time with actual soap. The soap I had dissolved in the concoction I'd made but I was willing to give up a bar for this.

By the time I was done, I was done. But Loam was naked and her clothes were wet. At least there was a towel she could dry with. I pointed to it: "Alright, get out and use this to dry yourself. Gently, if you can. Stay here, I'll be right back."

I went out the door, noting that Oliver was now eating and Amiera was bustling in the kitchen.

I grabbed the blanket from the bed I was to use, and walked back into the bathroom. Right, I'd left a mess in here; hopefully Amiera would forgive me. At least there were no traces of the rotten blood or even the stench we'd walked in here with. much less likely to get sick then.

I suppose I could clean it too, but I wasn't going to do it before getting some sleep. I handed the now standing Loam the blanket: "Hold this around yourself and stay close to me. Defend me while I sleep, but try not to kill anything."

Yes, I was being a bit picky. I felt she could handle it.

One last chore: I touched my golem, transferring her daily supply of mana. I'd been casting powerful spells tonight. Or this morning. So that transfer almost dropped me down to where I imagined normal was.

We crossed the hall again; Oliver was still eating, and Amiera was watching us. I shut the door behind my golem, locked the door, and stripped at last.

Just crawling into bed was hard. It was also made weird when Loam crawled in with me. Should I? Should we? Whatever; I moved her until she wouldn't hinder me, then rolled over.