I sent Jass to go warn the guards. He resisted at first, but soon realized the necessity. Kan’on and I walked to the edge of the grassy area separating the road and the forest. Well, he walked, I shuffled, still not convinced we should be getting involved. Even though the guy irked me, the Count had requested we not act like his guards and to me that meant drinking from my flask by the fire.

At first, I didn’t see anything. The sun had long since set and the light of the nearby campfires didn’t reach the forest with enough strength to do more than cast a warm glow. It took me a minute to realize they watched us. Their eyes reflect the firelight, resembling fireflies hovering in the branches of the thin trees at the edge of the forest. A few dozen eyes stared at us over the expanse of grass, which meant there were roughly five of the creatures sitting in the trees, just staring.

Jass returned, accompanied by the sound of guards forming up into small groups, preparing to use group tactics to overcome the Carvers. Smart.

“Why aren’t they attacking? Something is off. By all rights they should be on us already… and so few of them.” Jass said.

My assessment of Jass continued to improve. I watched our watchers, waiting for a change, something to break the stalemate, but they just continued to observe us. I stretched my senses, looking for other groups of the creatures, but sensed nothing. Were there really so few? It didn’t make any sense.

Their eerie silence and immobility finally got to me. Since I had smashed the Ilfid bugs, there shouldn’t be any objection to smashing these bugs too.

I drew the rune at head height, investing the Flow with intent and willpower, and an extra measure of my personal power. Not confident in my aim at such a distance, I tapped Jass on the shoulder.

“How’s your throwing arm? You think you could hit those trees through this rune here?”

Jass hesitated but nodded. He picked up a stone half the size of his fist and gauged the angle and distance. With a hopping running start, he slung the stone through the rune. It flew true, striking the trees in the midst of the hanging Carvers.

A gigantic force, like the descending fist of a Deep God, crashed through the trees, splintering the thin trunks and sending chunks flying in all directions. High, thin screeching told me the blow managed to strike the Carvers, but two managed to stumble out of the wreckage despite the destruction.

Each one supported itself on four appendages that ended in chitinous spears, stabbing the ground wherever they tread. Their arms resembled that of a praying mantis, but with a vicious cutting edge. The slicing arms were dangerous, but what made my gorge rise was the proboscis protruding from their insectile faces, from which they sprayed an acid that would start to dissolve you while alive, which allowed them to suck up the dissolved meat juice as sustenance.

Jass, with an impressive show of skill, hurled his spear at the Carver on the left. The tip of the weapon skewered the monstrosity straight through the head, pinning its already dead body to the grass.

Kan’on made a move to pursue the Carver on the right, but something in the Flow tickled my senses.

“Kan’on! Don’t kill it! Restrain it somehow!”

Rushing after the man, I tried to come up with a way to restrain it without killing it. I stopped and drew up the force rune again, but instead of the bludgeon I usually transformed it into, the intent I fed into it whispered of soft, steady pressure. Satisfied, I pumped power into it and swiped my sword through it before chasing after Kan’on.

“Whatever you’re going to do, you better hurry!” The Carver attacked Kan’on as he approached and he seemed to have a hard time not hurting it, let alone restraining it, especially when it sliced its oversized meat carvers through the air.

Letting Kan’on distract it, I circled around to its back and signaled Kan’on to jump away. Before the damned thing could react, I booped it on the head with the stored power in my sword.

It struggled to stay standing, all four legs shaking with the effort of resisting the descending force. Eventually, its legs collapsed and fell flat to the ground, screeching weakly, unable to move or breathe.

I dropped to me knees, closed my eyes, and concentrated on the Flow. Something was there, something unusual, and I couldn’t pass up something so interesting. I let the various currents in the Flow connected to the Carver wash over me, sieving through it searching for the tiny presence I felt.

It snapped into my awareness. A tiny, almost imperceptible thread plunged into the Carvers head. I reached out and touched it, seeking. Agony pierced my mind, the power feedback ravaging my consciousness, and I screamed. Just before I fully lost it, shock echoed back through the connection. An alien mind looked back at me, weighing me, before the connection snapped and I fell limp to the ground.

I let my poor brain regain its equilibrium before trying to move, and the first thing I did was reach straight into my cubby for a flask. Propping myself up on my elbow, I let the cool, burning liquid sear its way down my throat, before letting out a put-upon sigh.

“Shit,” I croaked out.

Kan’on crouched next to me, waiting patiently, while Jass had gone to retrieve his spear. In the meantime, I tried to make sense of what I’d seen. Getting to my feet, I picked up my sword and dusted myself off, almost stumbling.

“Listen Kan’on. We’ve got a problem. By the deep ones, we’ve got a problem.”

Kan’on didn’t push me, letting me regain my composure, but approaching horses interrupted my attempt to elaborate further. I snorted softly, even the sound of the clod’s horse was cloddish. Sure enough, His Gaudyness Clyde pulled his horse to a stop right next to us.

“What happened, someone reported an attack to me, and I heard a loud crash.” He glanced down at the now dead Carver at our feet. “I thought the Count told you that you were a passenger. You shouldn’t be out here fighting.”

I cocked an eyebrow at him but chose to ignore him.

“Listen Clyde, this whole situation just went from an amusing diversion to serious business in the blink of an eye.”

“They’re scouting.” Jass returned and stepped into the conversation. I pointed at him and nodded my head.

“That’s ridiculous. Everybody knows that Carvers are practically mindless. Scouting…” He laughed, not even trying to hide his disbelief.

“Listen you ignorant pissant, the Carvers are being controlled, and if my guess is right about what is controlling them, this town is completely screwed. This went from a manageable nuisance to a nightmare invasion in the blink of an eye.”

“Controlled? Bah, mind control is impossible, everybody knows that. You’d remember that if you weren’t drunk day and night.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to dredge up a measure of patience. Nope, screw it.

I circulated my power throughout my body, planted myself next to his horse, and yanked him off bodily by his belt and tossed him to the ground. The breath left him in a great woosh and I thought I heard a few bones creak in protest, but I ignored him and mounted his horse in his place.

“Kan’on, get ready to leave first thing in the morning. I didn’t sign up to fight what’s coming. Jass, I don’t know what your deal is, but you’re more than welcome to accompany us. I’ll be back in a bit. I’m going to go have a chat with Count Orleander.”

###

Arriving at the pavilion, I handed off the clod’s horse to a random guard and walked straight in. Orleander reclined alone by candlelight in a comfortable pile of pillows, surrounded by paperwork and what smelled like wine. Looks like I wasn’t the only one with contraband alcohol in the caravan, Clyde would be scandalized.

“I assume something happened then, otherwise you wouldn’t be rushing in here at this hour. Something to do with the attack, I presume.”

I plopped myself down in his little pillow pit, tempted to reach for the wine, but through the power of iron will and supreme willpower, I took my own flask out instead, not even bothering to hide my hand as it disappeared into my cubby.

Orleander’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, his shock tickling me a little. I’d pay for it later, no doubt. I drained the flask and tossed it aside, holding my breath to suppress the rebellion my stomach tried to foment from all the booze.

“Listen Orleander, shit just went sideways. The Carvers… they’re being controlled. They’re being used as scouts. Used! And I think I know by what. If my guess is correct, we’re dealing with the Collective… the Inculids.”

“Are you trying to tell me that deep ones are attacking us. Actual Deep Ones?”

“Yes, Deep Ones. By all accounts, the Inculids are mind controllers. I’ve obviously never seen one, I don’t think anyone having lived in the last few generations has seen one, but the stories are clear on one thing: they come up from the deeps killing or enslaving everything they encounter. The point here is this town is screwed. I’m leaving first thing in the morning, and you should too, unless you want to get caught up in whatever is coming.”

“Leaving… you would just leave this town to death or enslavement? This Barony is part of the kingdom, and you would just abandon it?”

“Damn right. And you should too.” As I said it, the buzzing of the curse in the back of my mind burst into a crescendo of pain, and I cringed, waiting for it to pass. Yeah, yeah, I hear you damn it. Time to leave.

I marched out of the tent, snagging a bag of candied nuts on the way. As I walked back to Jass and Kan’on, I munched on the nuts and pondered my next move. I still needed to get to Dormar, but I needed an alternate route. There was always the plains but trekking through endless grasslands didn’t appeal. That left the mountains, but that carried its own set of problems, namely cold weather gear. Either way, a trip through town in the morning to grab up supplies looked to be on the agenda.

I passed Clyde on the way back. Seeing the look I gave him, he steered way clear of me and crossed to the other side of the road. The cursed pain flared up again, fuzzing out my mind and making it difficult to concentrate and think. Based on past experience, it would only recede when I left and traveled for an extended period. I sighed and reached into my cubby for another flask. At least I could drown the pain in booze.

I returned to see the guardsman examining the smashed copse of trees, picking out Carver bodies and throwing me concerned looks. The rumor of my presence would probably spread even faster, now. My name was already out there, it was only a matter of time before people started making the connection, and that was never a good time.

I plopped down next to the fire, organizing my gear, and getting ready to brood on recent events all night long.