Dragon Mage 3 Chapter 9: Friend or Foe (Patreon)

368 days until the Arkon Shield falls

Silence followed in the wake of the scout’s pronouncement.

I closed my eyes, processing Kellar’s words. The other party. Of course. 

Strangely enough, their presence in the lair boss’ chamber did not surprise me. After the scouts’ maddening delay in returning, I’d been expecting news to this effect. Or something like it. What did shock me, though, was the number Kellar had quoted. 

Four players in a lair of this size? That was a damnably small party.

“Have they killed the lair boss?” Arneson asked, the first to recover from his surprise. “Is it dead?”

Kellar shook his head. “No, it’s not. The fight ended in a stalemate. It’s what kept us so long. We stayed to observe the outcome.”

“A stalemate?” Arneson echoed. If anything, this news seemed to worry him even more. “How did—” 

I cut him off. “Four humans? That’s what you said. Are you sure that’s all there were?”

Kellar nodded expressionlessly.

Arneson’s eyes narrowed as he picked up on my concern. “Four players killed twenty shadowcats? And then fought the boss to a stalemate on their own? What goddamn level are these people?”

The question was meant rhetorically, I knew, but one of the scouts answered nevertheless. “They’re all between level fifty and seventy,” Henk said.

Lance and Daryl gasped, as did many of the watching soldiers. It was not that the unknown party’s levels were high that perturbed everyone. The opposite, in fact.

“You’re saying four Trainee ranked humans killed twenty shadowcats,” Tara said flatly. “How?”

“The only way possible,” I murmured. “With magic.”

Tara’s gaze darted my way before alighting on the scouts again. “Is he right?”

“Yes,” Kellar replied simply.

“How many of the other party are mages?” Lance asked, taking up the questioning.

“All of them,” Henk replied, causing fresh whispers amongst the soldiers. 

All of them. That was not the answer I was expecting. Irrespective of who the rival party was working for, mages did not come cheaply. Ever. So, what is so important about this lair that someone is willing to commit so many human mages to claim it?

“Four mages,” Daryl repeated numbly. “Where did they find so many?”

“Well, six, actually, if you count the two dead ones,” Kellar pointed out.

Six? Hells, this kept getting better and better. But I didn’t let any of my concerns show. “Dead ones?” I asked, focusing on the less startling aspect of Kellar’s statement.

The scout nodded. “The shadowlion killed two of the rival party’s mages during their battle. It’s what caused them to break off.” He paused. “Before that, they were winning.”

Of course, they were.

Arneson shook his head in amazement. “Six mages. Humans. And here,” He blew out a troubled breath. “But none of that is important now.” He pinned the scouts with another glare. “The rival party: where are they?”

“The four haven’t left the central cavern,” Henk answered.

“They haven’t?” Tara asked sharply. “So, why hasn’t the lair boss finished them off?”

“The shadowlion is badly injured itself,” Kellar said, “and is content to let them be while it licks its own wounds.”

“The central cavern is also huge,” Henk added. “The four have retreated to its far end and have erected some sort of magical ward. I’m not sure the shadowlion could get through even if it wanted to.”

Tara, Arneson, Lance, and I exchanged glances.

I could see the questions gathering behind their eyes. I had more than a few myself, but one was more pressing than the rest.

What do we do now? 

✵ ✵ ✵

We spent the next few minutes exhaustively questioning the scouts about everything they had observed of the battle. From the pair’s description, it was evident the rival party was well-equipped and wielded no few magics.

“Alright,” Arneson said when the scouts were done with their report, “let’s address the question on everyone’s mind: how do we proceed from here?”

I said nothing, waiting for Tara to speak first. The three of us, along with Lance and Daryl, were sitting in a circle in an isolated corner of the cavern.

“The Trials will have us kill the rival party and the lair boss,” the Sierra captain said slowly.

“But?” I prompted, knowing there was one.

A brief smile flickered across Tara’s face, acknowledgment that I’d correctly anticipated her. “But,” she went on, “I’m not so certain following the Trials dictate in this matter is the correct approach.”

Arneson frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

Tara shrugged. “What do we know of Party Y? Other than that they have access to good gear and want to claim this dungeon?”

Arneson snorted. “You’re suggesting that they might be friendly?”

“Yes,” Tara replied.

“Nonsense,” he pronounced.

“And why’s that?” Tara shot back, undaunted by the Sanctuary leader’s derision.

“For all the reasons you’ve just stated,” he retorted. “They’re too well equipped to be independents like us, and they mean to claim this lair. Our lair. I will not allow that.”

“You’re making assumptions, Arneson,” Tara pointed out. “And bad ones, too. That their gear is better than ours doesn’t mean they’re our enemies.”

“Maybe it doesn’t,” Arneson allowed, “but I’ll not risk Sanctuary’s security on a maybe.”

Tara rolled her eyes. “No one is asking you to. All I’m suggesting is that we learn more about these visitors before branding them foes.”

“And how do you intend on doing that?” Arneson demanded.

“By talking to them, of course.”

“Absolutely not,” Arneson declared flatly.

Tara pressed her hands together, striving for patience. “Why not? Circumstances have delivered us what appears to be the perfect opportunity to make an approach. I say we take it.”

Arneson shook his head. “Did you not hear Kellar and Henk’s tale? Those four handily defeated twenty shadowcats and fought the lair boss to a standstill. Our best chance of taking them down cleanly is an ambush. Speaking to them first will only forewarn them.”

“Six,” Lance said suddenly.

Arneson turned his way. “What was that?”

“There were six mages,” Lance clarified.

Arneson waved aside his words. “Six, four, what does it matter?”

“It does matter,” the battlemage objected. “Those people have lost a third of their party, and from what Kellar and Henk said, they are no longer in a position to take on the lair boss. That gives us an opening.”

“Bah!” Arneson pronounced, dismissing this out of hand. “For all we know, they are just resting up for a second try.”

Tara leaned forward. “Arneson, you’re being obstinate. There is merit in what Lance says. And in case you’ve forgotten, we’ve two mages of our own. We should—”

But the Sanctuary leader was already shaking his head. “Absolutely not. I will not fall for one of the orcs’ ploys again.”

Tara’s eyes narrowed, and despite her best efforts, I could tell she was struggling to hold onto her anger. I laid a restraining hand on her arm. “You think they’re working for the orcs?” I asked, turning to Arneson.

“Yes,” he replied tersely.

“Why do you think that? Did Jhaven say something to suggest it might be the case?”

“No, but—”

I didn’t let him finish. “I don’t think they’re working for—or with—the orcs.”

He glared at me. “You weren’t so certain before. What’s changed your mind now?”

I nodded. “You’re right. Like you, I originally assumed the rival party’s players were orcish allies. But that was before we learned they were a party of six mages.” I shook my head. “No matter how much I turn over the question in my mind, I can’t come up with an answer for why the orcs would risk so many mages to claim this lair.” I held his gaze. “Can you?”

“Maybe they want the shadowcats,” he replied stubbornly. “The beasts are valuable—”

“Oh, I have no doubt the shadowcats are valuable. But why risk mages to claim them? Fagan and Jhaven were already in control of Sanctuary and this valley. They had time to take a more brute-force approach. Why did they not send in hordes of ordinary human slaves, one after the other, until the lair was cleared and claimed?”

Arneson’s glare did not turn any less fierce, but this time, I could tell he was thinking through what I had to say. “I don’t know,” he said finally.

“I don’t either,” I said. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be the first to admit there’s more to the Trials than any of us understand. There might be something to this lair that we’re not seeing that makes it of vital importance to the orcs. But I don’t think it’s the case here.”

Arneson stayed tight-lipped. He didn’t refute my words, though.

Glancing sideways at his leader, Daryl asked, “So, who do you think sent the mages if not the orcs?” 

“They’re most likely from one of the Sponsored cities,” I answered. “That’ll explain their gear.”

Daryl frowned. “So why haven’t we seen anyone from this city before?”

I shrugged. “That I don’t know either.”

Tara turned back to Arneson. “So, do you agree?”

He glanced at her. “That we try parlaying with the mages?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“I still think doing so is futile. The chances of them being friendly are…. small.” He sighed. “But I agree we should at least make the attempt.”

“Excellent,” Tara said with a pleased smile.

Lance rubbed at his chin. “How do we do it, though? If Arneson is right and the mages prove unfriendly, whatever team we send in risks being caught between the lair boss and four hostile mages.”

Tara’s smile turned bleak. “We won’t be sending a team in. Just one person, our trump card—” her gaze found mine—“Jamie.”

To say I was surprised by Tara’s decision was an understatement, but that didn’t mean I disagreed with her. 

She was right. I was the best person to parley with the mages—and for a whole host of reasons. It was a shock to learn Tara thought the same, though.

She really has changed.

Not even a few weeks ago, Tara would have labeled me reckless for volunteering for such a task, and here she was doing it on my behalf.

“Jamie?” Lance blurted, sounding as if he was choking. “You want to send Jamie in alone? That’s suicide!”

“No, it’s not,” I said before anyone else could object. “I’ll have Ash with me, of course. And invincible, too. If things turn hairy, I have the best chance of escaping—especially if I’m alone.” I turned to Tara. “I’ll do it.”