Rise of the Living Forge - Chapters 453-454 (Patreon)

Ida found her legs moving against her mind’s strangled protests. The absolute last thing she wanted to do was get anywhere closer to the purple-skinned woman or the inn that Gideon had just vanished into.

Something had gone gravely wrong. Ida didn’t know when or where it had happened, but the information they’d gotten on the Menagerie was completely wrong. This guild was no group of crafters.

They were a bunch of monsters hiding in plain sight.

But her legs marched all the same. Perhaps they’d registered the fact that there was no way she’d ever be able to escape the shadows lurking behind the innkeeper. Perhaps they simply wanted to wrest some manner of control, no matter how slim, from the situation. It wasn’t like she could do much else at the moment.

The only option she actually had to call on sat in her pocket like a millstone. Ida could try to contact Indrana. She could let her mother know what had happened to Gideon and just how badly they’d underestimated the Menagerie.

There were a hell of a lot more dwarf warriors under Indrana’s thumb than just Gideon. Her mother could have had a small legion standing within Milten within minutes. Possibly seconds if Ida made the situation sufficiently clear.

Her hand shifted toward her pocket.

Then it stiffened at her side.

She could ask for help.

Favors didn’t come for free. Even if Indara’s help saved her today, it would bury her tomorrow. She’d be under her mother’s thumb for the rest of her life. Even if asking for help didn’t saddle her with Gideon, she’d get landed with someone equally as miserable.

Ida’s hand fell away from her side.

There were some prices that she just wasn’t willing to pay. She’d come here to prove herself. To investigate a rogue smith. Someone who threatened the balance of the kingdom. Not to turn herself into her mother’s paw.

Death was far superior a fate to complete and utter disgrace. Ida marched on, passing by the confused onlookers as she walked right up to the purple-skinned woman.

The door opened behind the other woman. From within the dark inn came the muted sounds of energetic conversation. Not a single person inside seemed to have noticed what had happened. Ida had absolutely no idea how someone could miss a heavily armored dwarf getting dragged screaming into the inn. Maybe the adventurers simply didn’t care.

Without a word, the woman turned and walked into the Inn. Ida followed after her. The two of them walked in silence, moving through patches of swaying orange lanternlight breaking through the shadows on their way through the tavern until they arrived at a barred door.

Ida flinched as something emerged from the darkness. A shadowy imp rose up to lift the bar out of the way, then faded as soon as it set the wood down against the ground. As soon as it was out of the way, the door swung open to reveal yet another dark room.

There wasn’t so much as a single lantern within this one. It was pitch black. No, not just black. It was somehow even darker. The darkness was so thick that she could have scooped it with a spoon.

The back of Ida’s neck prickled. This was nothing like what she’d prepared for. Not only did the Menagerie have… whatever it was this innkeeper and Ifrit actually were, but they dealt with demons.

Is it just some fancy magic? Or are they allied with the Monster Horde? What is going on?

Ida swallowed nervously. It didn’t do much. She’d repeated the action so many times at this point that there was no saliva left within her mouth. Her tongue was nothing more than a porous brick filling up space in her mouth.

“Go,” the woman said.

If Ida was going to die, then she wasn’t going to do it like a coward. And, at this point, it was far too late to back out. The shadows were all around her. She was well within the Menagerie’s domain.

She stepped forward.

Darkness swallowed her. Her eyes lost all purpose instantly. There was nothing to even squint at. No outlines. No vague figures or shadows. Just… nothing.

The door clicked shut behind Ida.

Then there was silence.

She could hear her own heartbeat pounding in her ears and feel the blood rushing through her veins. Adrenaline and fear gripped her like the claws of some massive bird. Ida turned, instinctively seeking the light that had been behind her, but even that was shut off.

Even the outline of the door was gone. All that remained around her was a black void.

Wait. Was this what they wanted? Is the Menagerie planning to just lock me up here?

A hiss cut through the silence behind Ida like a hot knife. She spun toward it, nearly tripping over herself, as a faint flame flickered to life within a lone lantern. The light barely managed to make it a few feet out from the dirty windows of its source.

As far as Ida could tell, the lantern had nothing suspending it in the air. It was just floating there of its own volition. Its light was just barely enough to illuminate an old wooden table directly beneath it and two chairs on its sides, both nearly completely swallowed by darkness.

The purple skinned woman emerged into the light on the side of the table across from Ida.

Her heart leapt into her throat. She hadn’t even heard the other woman move, and she’d definitely been behind her just a few moments ago. It was like trying to keep track of a wraith.

“Sit down,” the woman said as she lowered herself into her own chair.

Ida had no choice but to do the same. They were both silent for several long seconds. If Ida hadn’t spent years upon years of her life dealing with dwarven nobility, she might have started squirming.

“You’re the one that challenged Ifrit,” the woman said. “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” Ida said honestly. “But I assume you’re a member of the Menagerie.”

“I am. My name is Lillia, and I’m the owner of the Devil’s Den. I also do not take kindly to people trying to attack members of my guild.”  

Ida went to swallow, but it was starting to hurt at this point. She settled for a grimace. “I can understand that. I never called for Gideon. I had no plans of ever trying to attack anyone. I was investigating Ifrit on counts of potentially having been taught sacred magic.”

“Gideon,” Lillia said. “That’s the name of the other dwarf?”

“Yes,” Ida said. “He’s a warrior. With Indrana.”

“Indrana?”

Ida hesitated for a moment. She wasn’t so sure spilling secrets to the Menagerie was the smartest move either… but Lillia hadn’t asked for anything that wasn’t fairly common knowledge.

“A member of the Dwarven Council,” Ida said wearily. Lillia had introduced herself. Generally, one didn’t do that for someone they planned to kill. If Ida gave them the information they were looking for, there was a chance she could still survive this without becoming a pawn.  “And, unfortunately, my mother.”

Lillia examined her for a moment.

“You’re the daughter of a dwarven councilwoman?”

“I am a dwarven smith,” Ida said, a note of steel cutting into her tone before she could stop it. “One whose mother happens to be a councilwoman.”

Lillia arched an eyebrow, but there was cold fury within her gaze. “I see. And what made you think that you had any jurisdiction here? That you had any right to control what the Menagerie does? Your warrior tried to turn his blade against a smith. He did raise his blade against one of us.”

Ida winced. She could still hear the crumble of the ruined building collapsing around the girl that Gideon had struck.

“Is she okay?”

“The only reason you both still draw breath is that she is,” Lillia said simply.

“I have no lost love for Gideon,” Ida said in disgust. She shook her head. “My mother sent him here.”

“Why?” Lillia asked, tilting her head to the side. “How?”

Ida hesitated for a second. This was stepping away from unimportant knowledge. If she answered Lillia, then she’d also have to reveal the presence of the stone sitting in her pocket. And if she did that… there would be no backup plan. No other way out.

She’d be sealing her own fate to whatever it might be.

A second dragged by.

Then Ida’s lips pressed thin.

 At least the one sealing it will be me.

“I told my mother the results of my investigation, but she wasn’t satisfied.”

“How?” Lillia interrupted.

“With a magical item that lets us communicate telepathically,” Ida said, pushing the words out before she could second guess herself. “She sent Gideon to handle things for me against my will, promising him my hand in marriage as a reward.”

“That seems like a rather excessive reward for something as simple as killing a mere smith,” Lillia observed.

“Gideon is connected to a powerful family,” Ida said with a bitter shrug. “One that will advance her position in the council. That’s more than enough for her. She’s just been waiting for an excuse to get away with it without outright making it clear I’m her puppet.”

“That is unfortunate,” Lillia said, and her words surprisingly did genuinely seem somewhat sympathetic. “But you won’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Here it comes. This is where they say I’m not leaving alive.

“And why is that?” Ida asked, measuring her words. She wasn’t going to give the satisfaction of begging for her life to anyone. Not her mother, and not Lillia.

 “Gideon isn’t leaving this building alive,” Lillia said with a shrug. “He laid hands on my people. I’m sure people expect him to be released. That isn’t happening, and I welcome anyone who wants to try and argue his case to do so. His magical armor will be returned. We aren’t thieves. We’ll have to let your mother know so she sends someone to pick it up. We don’t hold onto trash for free.”

Ida blinked in surprise. “What?”

“You said you have a way to communicate with Indrana, didn’t you?” Lillia asked. “Go on, then.”

“Go on and what?” Ida stared in disbelief. “I don’t understand.”

“Call her, of course.” A dangerous smile spread across Lillia’s lips to reveal razor sharp fangs glistening behind them. And in that moment, it struck Ida that the innkeeper wasn’t just some strange, purple-skinned human. She wasn’t a human at all. Lillia leaned forward, promised death lurking behind her eyes. “The three of us are going to have a little chat.”

Chapter 454

“You want me to call Indrana?” Ida repeated, aghast. There were a lot of things that her mother could be called — but sentimental wasn’t one of them. “I won’t work as leverage. She isn’t going to care. If you antagonize her, we’ll just all be dead.”

“I’m sorry,” Lillia said, blowing out a slow breath and shaking her head. “I think you misunderstood me.”

“I definitely did,” Ida said with a sigh of relief. Prodding her mother into action was probably the worst possible move for any of them. Indrana had fought her way onto the dwarven council through more than just smithing talent. She did not take kindly to people that did anything but exactly what she ordered. “I can give you the stone, but—”

“I wasn’t asking for your advice or permission,” Lillia said flatly, cutting Ida off before she could finish speaking. Her voice was so cold that it pulled goosebumps up along Ida’s arms. “You do not have a choice in this matter. Call Indrana. Now.”

Ida paled. She hesitated for a moment longer, but the look in Lillia’s eyes made it abundantly clear that refusal would not go well for her. She swallowed. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out the white stone.

She sent her mind into the magical object. There was always a chance that her mother wouldn’t respond… but given that Gideon had probably gone silent, she got the feeling that she wouldn’t get so lucky.  

A second passed.

Then a presence buzzed into being at the back of Ida’s head.

Ida. What is going on? What did you do?

“Tell her nothing,” Lillia said, picking up on the fact that the connection had been established. “I assume there’s a way you can let me speak to her as well?”

My face must be showing every damn thought passing through my head right now.

Ida nodded mutely. She pressed her hand to the stone, pushing more energy into the artifact. The air above it shimmered as motes of magic spun together like thread to form into a faint, translucent image of her mother and the cobblestone room around her.

Indrana’s features were blocky and chiseled, almost handsome. A thick scar ran along her left cheek from where a hot coal had badly burned her as a child, and the dwarf’s eyes were two sharp, gray pools.

Thick blonde hair ran down behind her hair, tied into a ponytail to keep it from her face while she worked. A leather vest hung at her front. It was devoid of any stains or scars despite all the years it had been in service.

“Ida,” Indrana snapped. “What do you think you’re—”

“Hello, Indrana,” Lillia said. Malice dripped from every word leaving her lips. “I would suggest you put a little more power into your stone. I’d hate for you to not be able to see who you’re talking to.”

Indrana’s eyes widened for a moment. Then anger overtook her surprise and her features went taut. The image of her spun, locating Lillia instantly.

“Ida. What are you doing?” Indrana demanded. “Why have you revealed—”

“Your warrior is dead,” Lillia said flatly. “And I killed him. And I suggest you stop worrying about what is done and instead consider what I’m going to do.”

“What?” Indrana asked, her voice dropping an octave. “Who do you think you are, girl? And do you really think I’m stupid enough to believe that a Dwarven Soldier in my armor would die in some backwater town like Milten? Ida, I’m disappointed in you. Utterly disappointed. To throw your lot in with—”

Something sailed out of the darkness. It landed on the table between Ida and Lillia with a heavy thud that echoed through the dark room, rolling once before coming to a stop. It was the glossy golden helm that Gideon had been wearing.

The sides of the helm were badly dented and warped. Any magic that had once been in it was snuffed out. But the helm shouldn’t have been nearly as heavy as it sounded. Having such a heavy piece of gear would have made the armor nearly impossible to maneuver in.

Then Ida spotted several droplets of red on the table leading up to the helm. By the time she’d looked back to it, a crimson river had started to trickle down from the eyes of the helm.

Bile welled in her throat.

Gideon’s head was still in the helmet.

It wasn’t that she gave the slightest shit about Gideon. This was just the closest she’d ever been to any manner of corpse, much less one of someone that she’d known to any degree. Ida stared at it for a second in stunned disbelief.  

Then a spark of anger cut through her disgust.

Good riddance.

“I didn’t expect you to believe my words alone,” Lillia said. “I’m sure this is more than sufficient… unless you can’t recognize your own work?”

Indrana fell silent. She stared at the helm for a long second, her features completely unreadable. Then her gaze raised to meet Lillia’s once more.

“Who are you?”

“A member of the guild whom you just attacked,” Lillia replied. “And without provocation at that. We were well within our rights to defend ourselves from a malicious force attempting to kill our leader within his own building.”

“Don’t quote old laws to me,” Indrana said. “I’ve been alive for longer than they have. I know what they say — and I know they didn’t give you a method to defeat Gideon. Who’s backing you?”

“We are the Menagerie. We need no backers,” Lillia said. “That was made abundantly clear during the Proving Grounds. Just as you will find that Ifrit’s techniques are nothing like those of some mere dwarven smith, you will also find that we are no mere crafting guild. Do not attempt to attack us again. The only thing you will find in Milten is death.”

“Mere dwarven smith?” Indrana exclaimed. “Do you have any idea—”

“Do you?” Lillia asked sharply. “I’m not sure you understand me, councilwoman. Let me make this abundantly clear. This is a threat. The only reason that you aren’t dead yet is because your idiot of a warrior didn’t manage to seriously injure the woman he kicked.”

Indrana’s lips curled in distaste. “You think you can threaten me with my daughter’s life? If you were going to kill her, you’d have already done it. Her purpose is to serve the council. That is the duty of a Dwarven Smith. She will not be used as an instrument to turn against her own kind.”

Ida’s stomach twisted, but it really wasn’t any surprise. Indrana would never sell her own pride for the mere price of a daughter. One could always make a second daughter, but face could never be recovered.

“The only one doing anything to harm their own kind is you,” Lillia said in disgust. “Ifrit does not use dwarven smithing techniques. But you’ve made it clear you don’t care about your daughter’s life… which is why I’m not threatening her. I’m threatening you.”

“Me?” Indrana scoffed. “What do you possibly think that you could do to me? You think you’re in a position to bargain because you have Ida captive? I already told you. The girl’s duty is to serve the council. Killing her will net you nothing.”

“You know, I learned something recently,” Lillia said as she interlaced her fingers and let her hands rest on the table before her. Something about the woman’s straight-backed posture and cold features almost felt… regal. It was like that of a queen condemning a criminal to death. “Everyone has something they want. And sometimes, people want it bad enough to pay a price that nobody else would be willing to pay.”

“What are you on about?” Indrana asked. “Don’t waste my time with this blathering. Hand Ifrit over. If you’re so certain that he hasn’t been taught by a dwarven smith, then I’ll investigate him myself. Then I’ll hand him back to you if I’m satisfied.”

“That’s not happening,” Lillia said. “You’re in no position to make demands.”

Indrana let out a derisive scoff. “Are you an idiot? What power do you—”

And then she froze.

Ida’s eyes went wide in disbelief.

A man stood directly behind Indrana, his face cast in shadow. He held a wide sword up to her neck, so close that blood beaded against the edge of its blade.

“That would be my associate,” Lillia said. “Keep talking, Indrana. I believe you were saying something.”

The dwarf swallowed.

“You wouldn’t dare. Killing me is an act of war against the Dwarven Council.”

“I’m certain they would be positively destitute,” Lillia said, sarcasm dripping from their words. “There certainly wouldn’t happen to be a dozen other dwarves who would pay us handsomely for your death. There are drawbacks to being in power, Indrana. Your own people want you dead. Something tells me your replacement won’t be too concerned with hunting us down.”

Ida could barely believe her own eyes. The Menagerie either had a spy in the Council — or they had a way to teleport someone right into Indrana’s room. She didn’t know which of those options was more terrifying.

 “What do you want?” Indrana asked finally.

“Not much. Never bother us again. I don’t care what rumors you hear about Ifrit or his equipment. I don’t care if he decides he’s a dwarf and goes around with a big bushy beard telling people he’s your new husband. You’ll swear up and down to the rest of the council that he doesn’t have the slightest bit of dwarf influence in him. That’s no skin off your back. Let’s be real. Even if he was using your techniques, it doesn’t matter. He’s only one smith.”

Indrana’s jaw clenched. She glanced down at the sword pressed to her neck. “Fine.”

“And one more demand, since you wasted my time,” Lillia said, raising a finger. “I’m putting someone in your precious order of smiths. Just to make sure you don’t go back on your word. And I’ll even introduce you. I don’t need to spy, after all. We have ways of finding things out.”

Fury warred with the fear on Indrana’s features.

Perhaps it was because Ida was a terrible daughter, but she nearly laughed. The expression on her mother’s face must have been exactly what her own features had resembled just a few short minutes ago.

The helplessness. The complete lack of options before her that didn’t result in utter destruction of everything she held dear.

Perhaps, if Indrana had been a warrior, she’d have been able to fight back. But Indrana wasn’t a warrior. She was a dwarven smith. And smiths could not fight.

“Fine,” Indrana spat. “Who is it?”

Lillia smiled. Then she nodded across the table.

At Ida.

“What?” Ida asked, her stomach flipping over.

“You,” Lillia said. “You’re going to be my spy.”

“Are you a fool?” Indrana asked, letting out a bark of laughter. “That’s my—”

“Daughter,” Lillia finished with a nod. “The very same daughter who you just cast aside. You don’t care about her. So why should she care about you? Who better to keep an eye on you than her? Something tells me she’d much rather be acting as a smith than under your thumb. It’s up to her, of course.”

Ida stared at Lillia, her throat so tight she could barely breathe.

“What?” Ida whispered. “I don’t understand.”

“Serve me,” Lillia said simply. “Be my eyes on the dwarves. Your mother will never have power over you gain. I’ll put your hammer back in your hands… and I won’t try to sell you off to some rancid warrior.”

Ida swallowed. “I… I don’t have a hammer anymore. It’s destroyed.”

“Oh, that’s fine.” The corners of Lillia’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Your mother will happily pass hers down. You can think of it as a family heirloom.”

“What?” Indrana exclaimed. “A dwarf’s hammer is—”

Her mouth snapped shut as the man at her shoulder pressed the sword harder against the neck. Another droplet of blood rolled down the blade’s length to bead at its tip.

“She’d be thrilled,” Lillia said.

Ida looked from her mother to Lillia.

Then her jaw set.

Fuck the council.

Ida dropped to one knee.

“Deal. I’m yours.”

Lillia smiled. “Welcome aboard. Best polish your hammer off, Indrana. Make a ceremony of it or something. That seems appropriate.”

Indrana gritted her teeth. She said nothing else, but that may as well have been a begrudging nod.

“We’re done here,” Lillia said.

The man lowered his sword from Indrana’s neck. He stepped back into the edges of the shimmering image, then vanished beyond them.

Indrana reached up to press a hand against the wound on her neck.

“I never knew anyone with capabilities like this existed in Milten.” Indrana said, anger and fear mixing in her words. “Who are you?”

“The Menagerie,” Lillia replied. “And Indrana — if my new subordinate goes missing or dies, regardless of the cause, I’m going to be dropping your body parts off at the dwarven council’s doorstep for the next three months. I am not a kind woman. If Ida is to fall, you better make damn sure you’re dead well before she is.”

With that, Lillia snapped her fingers. Shadows twisted over the white stone on the table, snuffing out the shimmering image entirely.

Lillia plucked it off the table and tossed it to Ida, who nearly smacked it out of the air on accident while trying to catch it. Her ears still rung in disbelief.

What just happened?

“Enjoy your new hammer and job,” Lillia said with a soft smile.

The darkness filling the room suddenly swallowed Lillia, leaving no trace of her passing behind. The door that Ida had come through slammed open an instant later, letting a thin beam of light spill into the pitch black room.

Ida’s heart still pounded in her chest. She stared at the entrance, barely able to believe what had just happened. She took a step toward the exit.

A hand fell on her shoulder.

Lillia’s face appeared from the darkness directly before Ida, all traces of the smile had been on it gone as she leaned in so close that their noses were nearly touching.

“And if I ever catch you threatening anyone in my guild again, I’ll rip your heart out and feed it to a stray dog,” Lillia whispered, her hand falling on Ida’s shoulder.

Then she was gone.

But, even as Ida hurried out into the tavern and for the street, she could have sworn she felt the claws of a demon digging deep into her flesh.