Chapter 45: A Change of Plans (Patreon)

“How many?” I asked at the same time as Odenna snapped, “Which sworn are with them?”

“What?” Soren asked, his face a picture of confusion. “No! Sorry, I meant the spies. Only the three spies have been spotted.”

I sagged in relief and beside me I felt Odenna do the same. For a moment, I’d feared the worst had fallen and Arinna had come.

Still, Soren’s message was far from welcome.

“How much time do we have?” Odenna asked. Only delaying long enough for Adalinda to unmanifest and for me to pull the hood of my cloak down, we followed Soren out.

“Not a lot,” he replied. “They’ve entered the Black Sewers already—” he paused—“leaving a trail of dead Devils in their wake.”

“Damnit,” I cursed. It was not the dead Devils, I mourned, of course. It was our plan, turning to ashes before our eyes.

Eoman’s strategy had hinged on us being able to deal with the two groups of players separately. First, Alistair’s group; they was already encamped in the Black Sewers, and we assumed the others—Esmina, Dansen, and Tyn—would join them as soon as they resurrected. And only thereafter the spies, once we’d lured them in.

“There is some good news, though,” Soren added.

“Go on. Let’s hear it,” Odenna growled when he didn’t immediately continue.

“The three players Adalinda and Elana killed in Cantos’ house were also spotted heading to the Sewers. Apparently, the spies pursued them all the way from the safe zone.”

I groaned. “How is that good news?”

“Well at least we know aren’t missing any,” he said brightly. “If we capture all nine in the urn, we can be sure to keep the dungeon’s existence secret.”

Which was not as easy as Soren made it sound. Defeating nine players all at once would be no easy feat. And we still don’t know the spies’ level. Which was another thing left undone from the plan.

“Do Alistair’s people know the spies are on their trail?” Odenna asked as we rushed through the corridor.

Soren shook his head. “Our watchers didn’t think so.”

“Then the spies must mean to ambush them in the sewers,” she muttered.

Which was not good for us. If one of the players died in the ensuing conflict before we activated the urn, we risked losing them forever—and any chance of us keeping the Hatchlings’ Trial a secret.

“Eoman and Tommin are already en route to the Sewers with the urn,” Soren reported, seeming to read my mind.

We reached the main cavern, and I drew up short. The place was startling empty. “Where is everyone?”

“Also on the way to the Black Sewers,” Soren said.

Odenna’s eyes narrowed. “Then Eoman means to throw everything we have at the players?”

“I think so,” Soren said.

“Good,” she said, nodding approvingly. “Let’s go. We don’t want to be late.”

✵ ✵ ✵

The moment we exited the Raccoon hideout, I began channeling, feeding mana into the wand sheathed at my side. I’d not thought to do so before, believing firebreather was of no use to me.

Running and channeling at the same time was challenging, and I stumbled more than once. The third time, Soren caught me before I fell. “You alright, El?” he asked in concern.

“Sorry,” I muttered, shielding my eyes from the morning sun beating down on us as I peered up at him. “Hard to focus. Channeling.”

“Her mind’s elsewhere,” Odenna said, realizing my predicament. “You’re going to have to help her.”

With Soren keeping a steadying hand on me, we resumed our journey. Despite her age, Odenna was still spry and hampered our progress not at all.

The surroundings passed by in a blur mostly. I still retained enough awareness to realize there were unusually few Devils on the street, though. Nor did I miss the squads that routinely intercepted us along our route.

“Who are they?” I asked absently at one point.

“Insurgence fighters,” Soren whispered back. “It looks like didn’t Eoman didn’t send the bulk of our people to the sewers. He’s spread them around the quarter instead.” He shot me a look. “Looks like it will be up to us and the small force under his command to take down the players.”

“Foolishness,” Odenna muttered.

Forbearing comment, I kept running—and channeling. A little later, the Game message I’d been anxiously waiting for arrived.

Firebreather charged. Fireball spells remaining: 1 / 1.

“Thanks, brother,” I said, untangling myself from him. “I’ll manage from here on.”

“Perfect timing,” he grinned. “We’re almost there.”

Looking up, I saw he was right. The Black Sewer’s familiar gates were ahead. A small group of Raccoons were gathered around it, and Odenna had already gone to greet them.

Déjà vu struck.

I’d been here before. In almost this very spot—watching Alon dressed as watchmen and surrounded by Devils. Other memories—painful ones—followed.

Of Alon flashing his smug smile.

Of Alon getting beaten in the Sewers.

Of Alon bleeding out in the council hall.

I staggered and Soren had to catch me again. “El?”

“Sorry,” I gasped, bringing the torrent raging through my mind under control. “Being on this street… it reminded me of Alon.”

Grief shadowed Soren’s face, but only for a moment. He’d regained his composure quicker than I had. His gaze flickered to the Sewers’ open gates. “Are you going to be alright in there?”

I straightened. “I will.”

Firming my step, I hurried to join Odenna.

“… and Eoman are inside,” I heard a Raccoon report as I walked up.

“What about the Devils?” Soren asked from behind me. “How many are down there?”

The Raccoon grinned. “None that remain alive.” He gestured to an older man sporting a well-groomed mustache. “Bern here will escort you to Eoman. They’re keeping an eye on our targets.”

Of necessity, most of the Raccoons and resistance fighters had been kept in the dark as to our true objectives. The Raccoons thought this was just the final push to clear out the Devils. The insurgents…

Well, I didn’t know what tale Maragret had fed them, but most of those we’d met so far hadn’t appeared overly concerned, indication enough that they were unaware of the real stakes at play.

“Ready?” Odenna asked, staring straight at me as if she could see beneath the hood pulled low over my face.

“Ready,” I confirmed.

Nodding, she gestured Bern forward. “Lead on, my boy.”

✵ ✵ ✵

Bern didn’t appreciate being called boy but that didn’t appear to faze Odenna. I didn’t know who he was or what role he played in Eoman’s organization, but he led us unfalteringly through the maze that was the Black Sewer, faring much better than I had on my one previous visit.

Regretfully, the Sewers bore almost no sign of the destruction Alon and I had wreaked on our way out. Except for the odd piece of burnt trash lying in a corner, or the occasional scorch mark, there was no evidence of the fire that had raged in the tunnels.

More disappointing still, it turned out that the promised raid by the goddess’ soldiers had never happened. How Cantos had managed to stop it, I don’t know, but I was sure the spies we were after had had something to do with it.

Eventually, turning down a seemingly random corridor, Bern came to a stop. “This is where I leave you,” he whispered.

My gaze flitted down the corridor. Its far end stretched out of sight, hiding whatever awaited us.

“Where’s Eoman?” Soren whispered back.

“You’ll find him at the chamber at the end of this corridor,” Bern replied. “The passage goes only one way, and there are no branches, forks, or side chambers to confuse you.” He paused. “Oh, and one more thing. Eoman says to tell you the urn doesn’t reach this far.” He scratched his head. “You people know what that means?”

“How do we find our way back out?” Odenna asked, ignoring his question.

Bern grinned. “Never fear, girl, if you get lost, I’ll find you.” Not waiting for our response, he turned around and vanished.

“Hmpf. Insolent fool,” Odenna muttered.

Somehow, I managed not to roll my eyes. “Time to come out, Ada,” I said, turning my attention inward. As the celestial began streaming out of me, I chanted, weaving mana in my mind.

You have cast summon elemental.

Adalinda has cast manifest, taking the form of a level 27 battle komodo.

I felt Soren gaze dart from me to the portal opening above us, but I didn’t stop to explain and in short order, my new pet emerged.

A level 27 storm elemental has answered your call!

“What in hells is that?” Soren exclaimed, jumping back like a scalded cat.

I chuckled, unable to stop myself. It was the rare occasion I got to see my brother’s tight control slip.

“It’s a storm elemental,” Odenna murmured. “Fascinating,” she remarked, fearlessly circling the creature. “I’ve never so close to one before.”

“But why summon it?” Soren asked, already looking more composed.

“To guard you two—just in case,” I replied. “And before you ask, I won’t be able to use it up ahead. Its spirit is vulnerable to the urn’s magic.”

Soren’s eyes narrowed. “Guard us?” he echoed, ignoring the second part of what I’d said. “What do you mean by that?”

“You two will wait here, of course,” I said.

“No,” they both replied in unison.

I glared at them. “Why not?”

Soren didn’t flinch from my gaze. “There are as many as nine players up ahead,” he said. “I—” he glanced at Odenna—“we are not letting you go on alone.”

“I won’t be alone,” I retorted. “Eoman has an entire squad of fighters with him.”

Odenna snorted. “They won’t be looking out for you. And besides this close to the culmination of my life’s work, I’m not letting you out of my sight!”

“They’re right, El. We could do with the help.”

I threw up my hands. Time was slipping away, and we couldn’t waste it arguing—which the trio very well knew. “Alright, take this then.” Extracting two vials from my belt, I handed one to each.

You have lost a full healing potion and a moderate healing potion.

“What’s this?” Soren asked, fingering the vial in his hand.

“It’s a healing potion, I think,” Odenna said.

“Correct,” I confirmed.

Soren made to return it. “Then you should keep it.”

I shook my head. “I’ve one for myself.” My last one, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. “If you want to come, you’ll keep that.”

He hesitated, then pocketed the vial. “Thanks.”

Turning around, I faced the corridor. “Onward.”

✵ ✵ ✵

I left the elemental behind.

Like I told Soren it would be of no use in the upcoming fight, and rather than banish the creature I ordered it to guard the passage. Anyone trying to get in or out was in for a surprise.

As we made our way down the corridor, Adalinda and I cast our buffs.

You have cast witch armor, increasing your damage resistance by 10% for 2 hits.

Adalinda has cast claws of fury, increasing the damage she deals with physical attack by 10% for 1 minute.

I didn’t cast light’s favored just yet. A strong golden light accompanied the spell, and not knowing what awaited us ahead, I didn’t want to give away our position.

Beside me, I heard Odenna mutter something under her breath, the words to a minor charm most likely. I knew the old elf had a knack for magic—or so she was always saying—but I’d not seen her use any myself. Soren’s preparations were much simpler.

He drew his sword.

I eyed my brother carefully. He wore the same battered armor he’d been wearing for days—and come to think of it, so did I. I would have to get us some better equipment at some point, I realized.

Assuming we survived today, of course.

“Watch out for them, Ada,” I said softly, reminded of what awaited us ahead. “If anything happens to…” I ran down, unable to finish the thought.

“I’ll keep an eye on them,” the celestial assured me.

“Thanks. I’m worried about—”

Game messages flashed through my mind.

The Urn of Shackling has been activated!

You have entered a spirit dampening field. You have failed a magical resistance check!

You are spirit-chained. While spirit-chained, your spirit will not be able to fly free after death, either to return to the afterlife or be reborn. Duration: infinite. The debuff will remain in effect as long as you remain within the dampening field.

I stopped.

The others drew to a halt beside me. “What’s wrong?” Odenna asked sharply, seeing my expression.

“The urn,” I murmured. “It’s been activated.”

The old woman cursed. “Eoman wouldn’t have activated the urn without us unless—”

“—things were dire,” Soren finished. We don’t have much time, then; the battle must have started. Let’s go!” Not waiting for a response, he dashed forward, taking the lead.

“Stay with him!” I yelled to Adalinda and hurried after.