Chapter 26 – The Winter Fort

Linton sat in the ruins of an old, empty castle. A fire crackled before him, burning a pile of books. Their countless pages blackened and flaked off, knowledge lost forever.

Even here, tendrils of white fog crept in through holes and cracks, reminding him that this was not a safe place. He had been wandering for days within the fog, looking for a way out.

He was tired. Tired of walking. Tired of trying.

Linton had always been master of his dreams. He had never been trapped inside one like this. Not in a long time, at least.

He kept track of the time with a tally scratched on a wall. There was no sun or moon, only an unbroken grey sky, so there was no way to actually tell how many days had passed, but pretending made Linton feel a little calmer. Like there was some kind of method to this slow, quiet prison.

“Did you try killing yourself?” asked the man across from him.

“I did, on the first day,” Linton said. “And again on the fifth. It just brought me back here.”

The man nodded sagely. He was tall, surpassing two meters, with his legs gathered up beneath him. His face was gaunt, with sunken cheeks and hollow eyes. He wore a tattered brown coat and had spiky, bright blue hair.

The man had no name. None that was his own. The ones he had were all borrowed, worn and shed like old shoes.

Linton called him Bluebird, because he found that the most accurate of his many nicknames.

“You know, there is a distinct possibility that you’re dead,” Bluebird said, tilting his head while regarding Linton attentively.

Linton snorted, staring into the fire. “Not likely. If I were dead, you’d be far quieter.”

“How do you know? Could be an afterlife.”

“The same lie peddled by every god. If this is an afterlife, it’s the laziest construction imaginable. Ninety percent fog, ten percent recycled delusions. Although, I suppose there’s something fitting in that.”

“How goes your little rebellion?” Bluebird asked, changing the subject. “All according to plan, I assume?”

Linton shrugged, a bitter tug at the corner of his mouth. “It was, until I ended up like this.”

“A lot of people are suffering. Is that part of your plan?”

“No. But I can’t help it, either. In creating a better future, sacrifices will have to be made. I’m not so naive as to assume that I can topple the MOW and save absolutely everyone at the same time. Such thoughtless idealism would only get more people killed in the end.”

Bluebird crossed his arms and leaned back against the crumbling wall behind him. “So you feel nothing for them? A heartless, cruel protector. Is that really what the Concord needs?”

“Heartless? Sure. Cruel? Certainly not. I have to maintain distance between myself and those I wish to protect. I have to be able to make difficult decisions on behalf of the many, which may end up hurting the few.”

Bluebird smiled incredulously. “Like you did with your family?”

Linton opened his mouth, hesitated. “That was…”

“Different? Don’t lie to me, Linton. I’m a figment of your imagination, remember? I know everything you do.”

“No need to be a smartass about it.”

“You’re trying to have it both ways,” Bluebird said, “and you’re not succeeding at either.”

“Wrong. I know exactly what I want. I have to purge my emotions for what lies ahead.”

“Oh, very good,” whispered a familiar voice in his ear. “I’m glad you see it my way.”

Linton jerked and looked up. Couldess grinned down at him, sloshing a glass of whiskey and ice.

“Get out of here!” Linton shouted, scrambling to his feet. “You’re not real!”

“Come now, Linton,” Couldess said with a chuckle. “Why would you want me to leave? We go so well together, after all. Here, let’s sit down and have a chat.”

Couldess motioned towards the fire, steely eyes twinkling. Bluebird looked inquisitively between both of them but didn’t intervene.

“Shut up!” Linton lashed out with a punch, catching the minister in the jaw. He burst into tendrils of mist that quickly dispersed.

Couldess walked out from behind a wall, sweeping the last of his whiskey and throwing the glass aside. “Struck a nerve, huh?” he said. “I wonder what would happen if we pull on that.”

“We’re nothing alike,” Linton insisted. “Nothing.”

Couldess grinned. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Give it a few years, and your body count might look pretty similar to mine.”

Linton launched himself at him, went straight through as Couldess turned to mist once more.

This time, he didn’t return.

“You know exactly what you want, you say,” Bluebird said with a chuckle, rubbing his hands before the fire. “Yet here you are, grappling with your ghosts.”

Linton closed his eyes and tried to block him out.

***

Cat waited about half an hour before she gave the order. On her word, they sprang out to seize control of the ship. Hunter took out the co-pilot with an uppercut to the jaw before the man even got his gun out. Cat used a Drida rune to pull the pistol out of the pilot’s holster. She undid the safety and put the barrel against the back of his head.

“Keep flying, same course, same everything, and I won’t hurt you or your buddy,” Cat said.

The pilot glanced around nervously. He licked his lips. “I-I know you. You’re those Bluebird freaks. I should crash this ship right now and rid the world of a few monsters.”

“You could do that. But you won’t. Two reasons.”

“What’s that?”

“First, there’s no use being a hero if you’re too dead to take advantage. Second, if you dive this ship into the ground, we’ll jump. We’d survive, too. Do you know why? I’m a geomancer. I could pluck us all right out of the sky, safe as feathers on a breeze. So you hold this ship steady and take us where we want to go, yeah?”

The pilot didn’t say anything. He didn’t crash the ship, either.

Cat flopped down in the co-pilot’s seat, gun still trained on the man, while the rest of the Bluebirds made themselves comfortable throughout the ship.

She settled in for a long ride.

***

Aeva said a prayer to Gjurin to bless her before the battle ahead. As usual, there was no answer.

She tried Gisa, instead, whose fire still raged inside her, growing stronger by the hour. She focused on the vague presence lingering at her shoulder.

You will achieve great things in my name, Gisa spoke, her commanding voice filling Aeva’s mind to bursting. In some ways, it was similar to Linton’s mental communication, but it was… louder, somehow. Remember, my power is a shield as well as a sword. The battlefield is a place for fury, for swiftness, but cleverness, as well. You must learn how to properly harness the gift I have bestowed upon you. You are only beginning to tap its potential.

“What should I do?” Aeva whispered. “Can you show me?”

I will guide your hand, when the time is right.

“I understand.”

“Stop muttering to yourself,” Hunter said, kneeling with his sword across his legs. “I’m trying to think.”

Aeva let her connection to the warrior goddess fade. She scrutinized the impassive face of the metal man. His temper seemed even more explosive than usual.

“If you do not mind me saying so,” Aeva said, “I believe you are nervous.”

Hunter looked up. His eyes narrowed with metallic shutters. “Yes.”

“You hate him. Drakemyth.”

“Yeah.”

“Why is that? Surely, he cannot be as wicked as Couldess.”

“Couldess isn’t my business. I’ll leave him for you idiots.”

“You were a warrior, before?”

Hunter nodded. He ran a hand along the flat of his blade, producing a schwing of metal on metal. “Of a sort. A monster hunter. Different name. Different life. Or, rather, I had a life, back then. This is different. Cursed.”

“Drakemyth brought you back to life. But you did not want to be revived, did you?”

Hunter stared into the floor. “I died of old age, surrounded by family. I was happy, damn it. The world I was brought back to…” He made a fist, so hard his metal joints creaked in protest. “It’s cold and dead. The ones I love are gone. I’m trapped inside this… thing. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t feel anything but pain.”

He looked up at Aeva. Though his face remained as expressionless as always, there was something new in his eyes, a fury that transcended all else.

“I could kill myself, end this nightmare,” he said. “But I won’t. Oh, no. Not until I’ve shown Drakemyth a fraction of my misery.”

***

The landscape changed below them as their trip stretched on for hours. From the river-crossed plains around Northmark to the rolling hills and golden farmland further into Attea and the vast, unbroken forests of Semic.

Finally, they reached a tall mountain range near the northern coastline of the Concord. The Scabrigans, usually called the Scabs. Even in summer, the jagged, looming mountains were topped with snow.

The pilot steered them towards one of the smaller peaks. They got within a few hundred meters before Cat noticed something against the grey stone. An old, crumbling castle which nearly blended in with the mountain itself, hugging the rock face. It was connected to the ground by a treacherous, steep switchback staircase, which led down hundreds of meters. There was no sign of activity from the outside apart from a landing platform jutting out of the aged stonework—clearly a newer addition—where a few tiny dots moved around in anticipation of their approach. Two mounted cannons swiveled to face them.

A string of light flashes came from the landing platform. Cat frowned up at the pilot.

“I’m going to flash the counter-signal,” the pilot said slowly, clearly not looking to rile her up. “On one condition, okay?”

“You talk like you’re in any position to bargain,” Cat said.

“If I don’t flash this signal, those guns blow us right out of the sky. I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen, on one condition. Hear me out.” His eyes were large, earnest. Those of an idealist.

“Hit me.”

“I know why you’re here. Even if I hadn’t overheard your people talking, it would have been pretty obvious. The only thing that might interest a group like you in this fort is Drakemyth. Do whatever you want with the Dead-Eyed Scientist, but leave everyone else. Don’t kill anyone who doesn’t have to die. That’s all I ask.”

“Sure, kid. We don’t kill for sport.”

The pilot flashed a signal with the lights built into the front of the ship. In response, the fort’s cannons turned aside.

“Are you so sure about that?” he asked. “You take a good, lawful nation and throw it into chaos. What possible reason could you have for doing that, other than a twisted bid for power?”

“You don’t even know the beginning of it,” Cat said, a defensive edge to her voice.

She knew he was full of it, but his words still bit harder than they should have.

The pilot set them down smoothly. The engines were cut, and attendants immediately began to circle around the ship. They wore the MOW eye pinned to their uniforms.

This is it, Cat thought. We’re in the right place.

She got out of her seat and walked to the back of the ship, where her companions were already gathered and waiting. At her behest, the pilot lowered the ramp. They were met with a chill wind.

As soon as it was down a man came up the ramp, looking at a clipboard and whistling to himself.

“Knew that was you, Sorley, ’cause of your ratty flying. Good to see you, man. How was the weather in…?” He looked up and trailed off.

Hunter raised his sword.

“No killing,” Cat said. “Not unless they attack first.”

Hunter sighed and hit the attendant with the flat of the blade, sending him sprawling and knocking the clipboard out of his hand.

He was the first out of the ship, wielding his sword in one hand and the co-pilot’s pistol in the other. He shot three men in the leg, rendering them prone and screaming, and beat a fourth unconscious. The landing platform stood silent.

Cat used a Drida spell to bend the two cannons out of alignment. Not by much, but enough that they would likely misfire if the MOW thought to take out their getaway ride.

“Good enough. Let’s go,” she said.

The Bluebirds followed her lead, and they entered the castle through a narrow passage.

***

Lazarim looked down at the smoldering corpse with a twinge of disappointment. Using a pair of forceps, he removed the Crown from its head and ordered a pair of his assistants to take the subject away for disposal.

His mind was working circles around itself. He placed the Crown on a nearby workbench and stared at it.

It taunts me. I know I can realize its potential. Put it to use for the Concord, instead of Gaerwyn’s savage horde. But how? I have taken every security precaution, and yet, every attempt is an utter failure.

He took a deep breath.

Perhaps the fault is not in my precautions, but in the willpower of its wielder. Perhaps all it requires is someone of better stock. A wielder who can bend the power of the Crown to their own will.

He reached out for the Crown with his naked hands.

“Sir?” an assistant said. His voice echoed throughout the massive chamber. There was darkness as far as the eye could see, save for the single light that illuminated the space directly around them. “There has been a breach.”

Lazarim straightened himself. “I see.” With a command, he brought light to the command deck on the opposite side of the chamber. The assistant followed him there.

A dozen screens came alive as soon as he stepped up to them, revealing the feeds of as many auto-eyes.

“It’s the Bluebirds, sir,” the assistant said.

“Yes, obviously.”

Lazarim scanned over the feeds. Nothing.

Except for the landing platform. Men writhing on the ground.

They’re here. Oh, bother. I was expecting this sooner or later.

“Initiate a site-wide lockdown and security response,” Lazarim said. “And have my power rig prepared for use.”

The assistant stumbled away.

Lazarim returned his attention to the screens and folded his arms behind his back.

I will have a little time before they reach me.

Time to prepare.

I do my best work under pressure, anyway. And I did set aside some things for just this occasion.

***

The Bluebirds ran through long hallways and cramped rooms. Their footsteps echoed off the walls.

“Where do we find Drakemyth?” Aeva asked.

“How am I supposed to know?” Cat snapped back. “Somewhere in the middle, I guess. Just keep running!”

An alarm started blaring. Faint, but growing louder as they moved further into the facility.

“Looks like we’ve been found out,” Hunter said. “Good. That might actually make this interesting.”

They entered a room where people in white coats were hurriedly packing up their research. Cat let Hunter take the lead—not that she could have reigned him in if she wanted to.

To his credit, he didn’t kill anyone, but the scientists likely wouldn’t be waking up any time soon, most of them knocked senseless.

Cat led them into the next room. Aeva yanked her back out of the doorway, and her head was almost taken clean off as a long blade of spectral energy passed just centimeters in front of her, cutting deep into the stone wall.

Three women stood on the other end of the room. Two of them each had a spectral blade hovering over them, while the third, the one in the middle, had already fired hers.

Cat ducked as the blade came out of the wall and made another swing at her. She rolled out into the room so that she wouldn’t be confined to the narrow hallway.

“Permission to kill?” Hunter asked.

“Yes!” Cat shouted. The first blade went for her legs, while the other two mages fired their weapons at her like spears. “Knuph!” she shouted, sending herself flying just in time to avoid all three swords. Her back brushed against the ceiling before she fell back down.

Hunter’s pistol rang out twice. One of the women fell. The remaining two lost their concentration, eyeing their fallen comrade. They clearly weren’t fighters, but scientists who had decided to play the hero.

Cat used another Knuph spell to launch herself forward, then detonated a Baku spell right between the remaining two mages, sending them flying in opposite directions. One hit the wall with a sickening crack, while the other rolled across the floor. The latter was still alive, but Aeva was quickly on top of her. A second later the mage had a smoldering hole punched through her chest.

Once the mages were dead, their spectral blades dematerialized.

Cat didn’t waste another second on them. They kept moving.