Jake relayed the dire news. More dungeon spawn than ever had been spotted in the Forest, and they were forming an army. Something—or someone—was guiding them.

Gramok growled and turned away. He watched the novice archers struggling to hit their targets and shook his head.

Cara’s shoulders slumped. She hugged her arms tight to her chest and bit her lip. “They need me.”

Jake nodded. “You should go.”

“What about you? I can’t just leave you here. Not when…”

He looked away. The knot in his stomach would just have to deal with it. “Maybe I’m meant to face this, face him alone.”

She took his hand and warmed it between hers. “You shouldn’t have to.” Her brow furled. “He’s the Emperor. Maybe he can help.”

His heart warmed, but he shook his head. “You can’t stay, Cara. You’re a ranger. You’ll do what has to be done.”

Her face scrunched up, and she leaned in closer. “I don’t want to go,” she whispered.

Jake’s heart raced. He pulled her into a hug and stroked her back. If only she didn’t have to. “Pretty sure I can replicate the Ring’s effect. I’ll be back before you know it.” That didn’t stop his heart from sinking even further. “It’s your duty.”

She glared up at him, her face scrunched up. “Duty, pfft. Who cares about that?”

“You.”

Her gaze fell to the floor, and she sighed. “Yeah.”

Gramok grunted and crossed his arms. “That ring of yours can bring two, right?”

Cara stared wide-eyed at him. “You don’t have to.”

“You didn’t have to risk your life for me, either. You still did.”

“That was different. This is a war!”

“Right.” His grin was wide, but there was an unusual tightness to it. “Higher stakes, better songs, and you’re a friend, not a stranger. I’ll be ready when you are. We should get our runes first, though.”

“The Runesmith will meet us at the main gate,” Jake said.

Gramok bowed his head and strolled out of the archery range.

Cara gazed up. Her teeth pulled at her bottom lip. “Jake…”

Butterflies fluttered in his chest. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She nodded and hugged him tight. “Take care.”

Not a promise he could make. “You too.”

Another nod. She pulled away, her hand lingering in his. “Come on, let’s go get some runes.”

He picked up her forgotten pack before letting her pull him out into the street. They beckoned Gramok and walked three abreast down the largely empty streets in perfectly good silence, until Cara broke it.

“What rune are you getting, Gramok?” she asked, skipping alongside them like everything in the world wasn’t broken.

“A buff for my sword. Tempted by a spiritbane rune. You?”

She tilted her head. “I already have a magic bow. Armor, I guess. A rune to boost Magic Resilience. Do they even exist? We’ll find out.” She smiled at Jake. “What about you?”

His mind went blank. “Me?” He bit his lip. “I don’t know. Something to stop me dying so often, I suppose.”

Gramok chuckled and clapped him on the back. “That’s our boy.”

“Hey!” Jake shot back a playful glare. “Who are you calling a boy?”

Gramok grinned with reckless abandon. “Not my fault you’re so young.”

“You sure you want to play that game?” Cara asked. Her smile said it all.

“Pfft.” Jake waved his hand and passed her back her pack. “A hundred years old, and you still need me to remember your stuff.”

“My stuff?” Cara said, brushing up against him. “It’s half your stuff because, what was it? Oh, right, you blew your pack up.”

Jake sighed. She’d won, and she knew it. “Alright, alright. Speaking of which, can I have your pack when you go back?”

“Sure. Don’t forget to remind me, and make sure I take Nibbles out.”

“Will do.”

They approached the main gate. Luther was off to one side, talking to a positively wrinkled female dwarf. She seemed to barely notice his words, lost in etching a rune into the freshly rebuilt gatehouse with a variety of rune-enchanted tools.

“Luther,” Jake said, “this is Cara and Gramok. Guys, this is Mage-Commander Luther.”

He bowed his head to each of them. “Luther, son of Leopald, in your debt and at your service. This is Runesmith Idonia, daughter of Dagna. She is a Master of her craft.”

A grunt issued from Idonia and she kept chiseling at the rock. “I’d be a Grandmaster if people stopped bothering me. Three runes, top priority. Give me your requests and leave me be.”

Luther bowed his head apologetically. Jake shrugged. Brilliance and obsessive eccentricity aren’t often far apart.

Cara removed her leather armor, leaving her in disheveled breaches and a tunic. Seeing her out of armor was strange these days, but not unwelcome.

She placed the armor on the floor and bowed her head to the Runesmith. “A rune to make me more resistant to magic, please.”

Idonia paused hammering. “Magic Resilience, Mental Resistance, or Physical Resistance?”

“Magic resilience, please.”

The hammering resumed. “Good choice. Next!”

Gramok stepped up and lay his sword on the ground. “A spiritbane rune for my greatsword.”

“Wise. Spirits can be real bastards. Next!”

Too many options. Luther had helped narrow them down, but now Jake had to choose. A magic staff for more powerful spells? An inscription upon his sword that allowed casting with it? A cloak to shroud him in shadows? A runed helm to improve Mental Resistance?

Improving his survivability would have been nice, but that would have to go on armor, and the battlemage robes wouldn’t support a rune. He bit his lip. If he could see something coming, he’d be better able to defend against it. “A rune that’ll let me see in the dark?”

Idonia grunted. “Child’s play. Bring me a ring.”

“I can handle that,” Luther said. “Thank you, Idonia. We’ll let you get back to your work.”

No response came from her, besides more chiseling.

“One more thing.” Jake sifted through Cara’s reality-defying pack, rummaging for a while before his hand grasped around the invisible book they’d found in Tarkath. He pulled it out and held it out toward Gramok.

Gramok took it, approached Idonia, and dropped down onto his knees. “I offer you a small, inadequate token of regret for the destruction of Tarkath.”

She paused mid-swing and turned toward Gramok’s outstretched hand. Her eyes widened. She snatched the book out of his hand and held it up. She flicked through it, muttering in Orcish, and the book faded into view. “Where did you find this?”

“A Runesmith’s store in Tarkath,” Gramok said somberly. “It was hidden away. I hope it is of some use.”

“Some use?” Her cheeks glowed, and she bellowed with laughter. “It’ll be a damned sight more than some use, orcling.”

Jake peered down at the book and frowned. “Why are there Zelnari symbols in a Dwarven book?”

“Zelnari?” Idonia shook her head. “Those are symbols of power. Every rune has two parts, the binding and the power. You have Discern Magic, yes? Spellcrafter, of course you do. This rune here isn’t done, but that one is.”

She pointed up at another rune further along the wall. Jake studied its intricate magic. The outside coating wasn’t familiar, but he looked past that, and… There! Right at the heart of the rune lay Zelnari concepts. Gruk, building, appeared, and a lot more that he couldn’t translate.

Huh. “Those words of power are in Zelnari.”

Idonia was back to flicking through the book. “Interesting, but irrelevant, unless you know Zelnari.”

“A bit, and I’m working on understanding more.”

She sighed and snapped the book closed. “These two need to go soon, don’t they? I’ll enchant your trinkets.” Her wrinkled face lit up with a beaming smile. “Then you and I are having a nice long talk about everything you know about runes. Nine o’clock, tonight. Be back here.”

The sharp strike of her chisel against the stone resumed. They were dismissed.

They split up until the evening, helping however they could. Cara returned to the archery range, Gramok drilled soldiers in fighting larger creatures, and Jake visited the blacksmiths.

At first, they were wary of the Transform spell. After a host of demonstrations, there were still a few dubious faces, but he’d won most of them over. Armed with an array of new Transform spells, Jake headed to the mage barracks to teach Zelig, but he wasn’t there.

Luther had gone out on patrol. In his absence, Zelig had been called into the war council. Orlanda, one of the younger mages, offered to take his place. Jake shrugged. It made little difference who learned it, so long as they could teach the others.

Orlanda was only level 5, but she picked up spells quickly. He struggled with dwarf ages, but she didn’t look much more than a child.

Jake smiled at her. “You’re a natural at this.”

She half-shrugged and looked away. “Discern Magic does most of the work. I’m not really a soldier, not like Luther.”

A weight pulled down Jake’s joy. Conscripted, forced to defend her home. What a shitty way to enter adulthood. “What are you then?”

“I’m a soldier.” She stiffened up. “We all are now.”

“And if you survive this?”

Another half-shrug. “Kidnap you for spells and become a jeweler? We’d make a killing.”

Jake chuckled, even as his heart sank. When had settling down into a regular job gone from a necessary evil to a joy he couldn’t even hope for? “Not the worst plan I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re right, it’s a bad plan.” She flashed him a grin. “I should cut out the middle man and become a Spellcrafter myself.”

His blood ran cold. “It’s dangerous.”

“You’ve taught me a few Absorb spells. They’ve kept you alive.”

It wasn’t the same, but he didn’t need to go blabbing that to everyone. “For now. They won’t, though, if I screw up too badly. It’s not worth the risk.”

She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Actions are gold, words are dust.”

So young, so naïve. He sighed. So like him, with one crucial difference. “One screw up, and you’re dead. Gone. Your life, over.”

She sneered. “Everyone says that, just as they said I was too young to fight. A few days later, and suddenly I have to fight.”

“Trust me, this isn’t the same.” He didn’t need more deaths on his conscious.

“Afraid of a little competition? Must be pretty nice, huh, having personalized spells on demand?”

“It’s useful, I guess.”

She leaned forward and cocked her head, staring at him like he was crazy. “Useful? Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

Orlanda turned away and shook her head. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

Jake frowned. “Get what?”

“Going through life with whatever scraps of magic you can beg, buy, or barter for. When did you last have to choose between a spell that’s way underpowered for you or one that’s got a 10% chance of blowing you sky-high? Do you ever cast spells that might backfire on you?”

A lump formed in his throat. “Sometimes.” But only when absolutely necessary.

“So, yeah, if we get through this, I’m going to be a Spellcrafter, just like you. Fear doesn’t stop you or Luther or Zelig or any of the others, and it ain’t going to stop me.”

Fire rose in his chest. He couldn’t let throw her life away over his lie. “You don’t get it, Orlanda.”

She scoffed. “That’s what they always say. If, no, when I live through this, I’m done doing what other people tell me.”

He bit his lip. There wasn’t any way around it. “I’m a Hero, Orlanda. I come back from the dead.”

Orlanda recoiled. “A Hero?” Her nose wrinkled, and she backed away. “Like… the Heroes that destroyed Tarkath?”

“I’m not like them.”

Her back hit the wall. She lifted her hands, ready to cast. “How many times have you died?”

“Three times.”

“Three times…” She stared back at him with cold, flat eyes. “We must be like ants to you.”

His heart shriveled up. He shouldn’t have said anything. “No. You matter. All of you matter.”

“You.” She spat the word out with venom. “You’re not one of us, and you know it.”

“I’m here to help. I promise.”

“Lies. Begone, foul demon!” She began casting. Protection magic, at least for now.

Jake checked the clock. Nearly nine, time to get going anyway. He sighed and bowed his head. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll leave you be.”

He left for the main gate, replaying the events over and over. It was to be expected that some people would react that way, but what else could he have done? She deserved to know the truth.

What was done was done. Would it create problems? His chest clenched. Maybe. He didn’t need a mob with pitchforks after him, especially not when half the town was armed and ready for war. On the plus side, she was most likely to go to Luther, and he already knew.

On arrival at the gatehouse, the sound of stone being chiseled led him up onto the battlements. Several dwarf guards stood watch while Idonia worked away like nothing else in the world mattered. Beside her lay Cara’s leather armor, a ring, and Gramok’s sword.

“Evening,” Jake said.

No response beyond more chiseling. Not a huge surprise there. The others would arrive soon, anyway. He looked out across the wall. The town’s magical glow faded away into the darkness of the cavern beyond. What was out there? Were dungeon spawn still massing below?

The timing couldn’t be a coincidence. There had to be a connection to the dungeon spawn in the Great Forest, but what? Was this simply what dungeon spawn did once they could come out?

Metal clanked against stone behind him. He spun around to see Gramok bent over, struggling with the low ceiling and narrow stairs. Behind him was Cara, bouncing from side to side.

Her eyes met his, and the glow faded from her cheeks. “Hey,” she said. “We’re ready to leave.”

Even expecting it, his heart dropped a little. He smiled as best he could. “I know. I’ll be back soon.”

She shook her head and took his hands in hers. “If the Emperor can help us, or if you can stop the dungeon spawn… You’re a ranger, too. Do what needs to be done. Promise?”

“I promise.”

The background hammering stopped. Idonia attached her tools to her belt and strutted over. “Items are done. Take them, you’re welcome, use them well.” Her gaze settled on Jake and a fire lit in her eyes. “Say your goodbyes, then we have runes to discuss.”

They each took their items. Jake held his ring up, admiring its beauty. A well-made silver ring with an intricate rune engraved into it. A shame the magic was completely unlike that of spells. Being able to cast a form of Night Vision would be useful.

He slipped the ring onto his finger. The darkness partially retreated from the world. At the far end of the cavern, the faint outlines of tunnel entrances were now visible. “Thank you. It makes a huge difference.”

“See?” Cara said, playfully jabbing him in the tummy mid-way through getting her armor back on. “I told you Night Vision is amazing!”

He smiled and shook his head. “How’s your armor?”

“Feels the same but, safer?”

Jake bit his lip. “You going to be okay?”

“I’ll have Gramok and the entire might of the Great Forest at my back. You’re the one you need to worry about.” She took his hand and pulled him to an empty section of the wall. “You don’t need to look like a lost torric, you know. This is your chance to find out what really happened to your father, Jake.”

He closed his eyes. No matter how right she was, it didn’t stop the chainsaw cutting at his heart.

“Shoot the bow and listen. That’s all you, or anyone, can ever do.” She leaned closer and planted a soft, warm peck on his cheek. “Remember to listen.”

His eyes shot open, but she was already walking away.

She glanced back with a mischievous grin and winked.

His heart pounded in his chest. Had she just—?

She nodded to Gramok and took his hand. A final glance over her shoulder, a flash of Portals magic, and she was gone.

Had that really just happened? His heart fluttered, dancing and sinking, soft and heavy.

She’d be okay, wouldn’t she?

Painful joy twisted in his gut. She’d better be.