Talia knelt on the cliff overlooking the shallow valley that held the entrance to Hvitgard. She remained unnaturally still, not even blinking as she watched the giantess sprint through the front gate. The bulk of the Jotun city had been carved into the bowels of the mountain, with an imposing keep guarding the entrance. The design of the fortress echoed the brutal, warrior culture that had built it; it was huge, composed of all sharp angles, and seemed to have been built with function, as opposed to form, in mind. Constructed of white stone, the enormous castle was trimmed in blue icicles, with snow covering the steeply angled roof.

“This isn’t good,” muttered Abby, who knelt beside her. Wary of an ambush, the pair of women had ranged ahead when it became clear that they wouldn’t overtake the Jotun and her prisoner. “I really don’t want to try to assault a Jotun stronghold.”

“The Jotun stronghold,” Talia rasped. She still hadn’t gotten used to her new voice, which carried with it a high-pitched, grinding undertone. However, she had to admit that, while her transformation had been horrific, she was quite pleased with her newfound physical prowess. In her old form, she’d have never been able to keep up with any of her new companions, much less fight toe-to-toe with a powerful opponent like Zeke.

On top of that, she had begun to experiment with her changed skills as well, and, contrary to how she felt about her altered stats, her new abilities were met with nothing but mixed feelings. [Circle of Death], like [Circle of Mending] was an extremely powerful skill, but rather than the healing of its predecessor, it radiated pure destruction. She had only used it a handful of times, but that was enough to tell her just how dangerous it was. On their trek through the mountains, they had been ambushed by a pack of wolves, and when she’d been surrounded, she had let the new skill loose. And the resultant wave of black energy that had swept over the half-dozen beasts had left them decayed and dying. Their grey fur had come off in clumps, and huge slabs of meat had sloughed off their bodies. After that, she hadn’t even needed to attack; they all died where they stood.

Certainly, the wolves were only level fourteen, but the ease with which she had dispatched them was jarring. Thus was the power of a G-Ranked skill. The only downside was that it took an enormous amount of mana, so she could only use it once per fight. Luckily, her other transformed skills were much more efficient.

[Plague Strike] was practically free, in terms of mana, and as a toggled skill, it passively enhanced her natural attacks to a great degree. It didn’t have the versatility of Zeke’s [Leech Strike], but it was still incredibly potent.

And then there was [Alacrity of Undeath]. Like the description had implied, it was easy to trace the skill’s roots back to her experiences with the undead. On their arduous journey to the Micayne Estate, her now-deceased group had encountered hordes of zombies. And each of them, when they saw potential prey, had darted forward with unnatural speed, driven by the unevolved version of [Alacrity of Undeath]. For Talia, it was an activated skill that increased the effects of her agility and dexterity, and while it was active, it put her on an entirely different tier in terms of speed and coordination. And like [Plague Strike], it was an efficient skill that drained her mana at a slow, steady pace. As far as she could tell, she could only keep it active for a little over three hours before she was entirely drained. That drain was almost tripled when driven by both [Alacrity of Undeath] and [Plague Strike]. So, she had to be careful about how she deployed her skills.

And finally, there was [Focused Reformation], which she’d only had one opportunity to use. She never wanted to use it again, either; the experience was, in one understated word, unpleasant. Certainly, it had been effective when, after being ambushed by a pack of blue goblinoid creatures whose names she couldn’t remember, she’d been ripped to shreds by their sharp claws. Before even thinking, she’d activated the skill – almost by instinct – which had left her writhing in agony while her flesh knitted back together. It had only lasted a handful of seconds, but the memory of the pain still lingered, days later. Still, it was arguably better than the alternative.

When her skill dictated that she be forced to eat one of the creatures’ still warm hearts, she had been overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. On the one hand, the surge of vitality had been borderline euphoric, but on the other, she had been absolutely disgusted. Her companions acted as if it didn’t bother them, but she knew the truth. She’d heard their elevated heartrates. She’d practically felt their winces. Regardless of how they wanted to feel about her, at that moment, she was a monster.

And it wasn’t just her friends who thought it, either. She felt that way about herself as well. But what was the alternative? Despite the self-loathing she felt, Talia very much wanted to continue living. So, as horrible as it was, she had no choice but to embrace her new circumstances and try to adapt. It was easier said than done, though, and she was still struggling with how she felt about her own transformation. It was getting easier, though. The hearts, being unliving – all of it. And that was probably the most frightening part of it all. If she could acclimate to such a massive shift so quickly, what would she be in a year? Two? A decade? It was a sobering thought, and she could only hope that her resolution to retain some level of her humanity remained strong. Otherwise…well, she didn’t want to think about what the alternative was.

“What do you think?” asked Abby.

“We should scout it out,” Talia said. While her skills weren’t suited to stealth, she’d found it much easier to hide after her transformation. Abby’s circumstances were similar, though they were more of a result of necessity and practice than a racial change. “There has to be another way in.”

“That’s not how castles work, though,” Abby said. “One way in. One avenue of assault. Right?”

“There are seventeen passages into the Temple of the Sun,” Talia said. “That I know of. I’m sure there are others, as well. Every castle has an escape route. Besides, even if it doesn’t, that’s an underground city, right? There’s got to be some ventilation shafts or something.”

“Maybe,” Abby admitted. “Or they just use runes.”

Talia shook her head. “Jotuns have no skill with runecraft,” she stated. “My tutors –”

“Are people who probably never visited Hvitgard,” came a voice from behind them. Talia turned to see Zeke standing there, tall and proud, the dire bear at his hip. He rested his hand on the creature’s shoulder, giving it an idle scratch. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but it’s probably a good idea to check it out, right?”

“You’re too big to sneak up on people like that,” grumbled Abby. “And get down. You’ll be seen.”

Zeke shook his head. “Not up here,” he said. Abby fixed him with a glare, and he held up his hands. “Fine, fine. I’m getting down.”

He knelt beside them. “So, do you two want to scout it out?” he asked. “If there’s an airshaft or a backdoor, we can jump in, sneak to wherever they’re holding Tucker, and bust him out.”

“Bust him out?” Abby said. “Seriously? This isn’t some troll village. This isn’t like the drachnids, Zeke. This is Hvitgard, the seat of Jotun power. We’ll be dead before we take ten steps.”

“I doubt it,” Zeke said. “You heard Tucker. There aren’t many of them left. They don’t have the numbers to patrol the area. I mean, there are only two guards at the gate. I’m not familiar with castle logistics, but it seems like there should be a lot more around to defend the main entrance to the city, especially considering how hostile this area is.”

Talia said, “He’s right.”

After growing up as the daughter of the most powerful woman in the world, Talia had a unique perspective on such things. Even though she’d only ever been meant for sacrifice, Constance had kept up appearances and hired talented tutors to school her in all the subjects pertinent to managing a kingdom. And Talia had always been a willing student, eager to impress her mother. Even if the knowledge was valuable, she couldn’t help but feel like her life had been wasted, that she’d been living a lie all along.

Did everyone else know? Surely, Silas had. The old man was too wily for anything to pass him by, much less the disappearance of Talia’s siblings. Even if Constance had never told him outright, he had to have suspected something. And yet, he’d done nothing. It was enough that, if she allowed herself to dwell on it, it would send her spiraling into a depression she couldn’t afford.

Abby said, “Yeah, sure – take his side.”

Her tone was playful, so Talia chose not to take offense. Still, it was a little irritating. She wasn’t taking anyone’s side.

“So? Since your opinions on my stealth abilities are pretty clear, it’s probably best that I’m not the one to scout things out, right?” Zeke said, almost as if he sensed Talia’s shift in mood. “Abby, you want to go around the north side while Talia goes south? Hopefully, one of you will find something promising. In the meantime, I’ll head back to that plateau we passed about a mile back, and I’ll summon the house. By the time you two get back, I should have some food ready.”

Abby looked at him and said, “You’re going to stand here and study those runes on the gates, aren’t you?”

Talia glanced at the man. She hadn’t even seen any runes, but then again, she hadn’t looked for them, either. Her tutors had all been clear about the Jotun’s lack of runecrafting ability. But if there were runes on the gates…

“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning sheepishly. “I want to at least know what they do. But I promise, there’ll be food when you get back.”

“Probably that stuff that’s been sitting in your storage,” she grumbled. “I know time doesn’t move down there, but after what happened with Tabby…ugh. It’s just hard to think of anything else when you pull hunks of meat out of there.”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Talia admitted.

“It was a whole big thing,” Abby explained. “Zeke tried to put a prisoner down there, but when he de-summoned the house, something weird happened, and when we tried to get her out, she’d kind of…uh…well, she was dead. Lesson learned, I suppose.”

“That’s…that’s horrible…”

Never mind that it was the first time that Talia had heard about Zeke’s ability to visit his storage space in the flesh, but to hear that they’d killed a prisoner? That was horrifying.

“Don’t worry – she was a terrible person,” Abby said. “She and her group tried to assassinate us on the road. They were hired by the Crystal Spiders, we think. So, not saying we meant to do it or that we’re okay with it, but…well, I’m not losing any sleep over what happened.”

“Doesn’t really excuse it, but she’s right,” Zeke agreed. “I regret what happened, but the world’s probably better off without someone like Tabby in it.”

Talia wasn’t so sure. She’d lived a sheltered life, but she wasn’t blind to the suffering of those less powerful. Most of the time, they would grasp at any opportunity they could find, and if that meant joining an assassin’s guild, then so long as they got power and security, a huge swath of the population would jump at the chance. She didn’t know anything about this Tabby’s situation, but she suspected that a little investigation would probably reveal that she’d had a hard life.

Even so, Talia trusted both Zeke and Abby. They had saved her, and what’s more, they’d shown their characters more than once since they’d met. So, if they weren’t bothered by the woman’s death, then Talia wouldn’t be either.

She stood, saying, “I’ll go this way.”

Then, without waiting for a response, she ghosted away, weaving between scraggly bushes and towering evergreens as she made her way in a southerly direction. As she went, she had to avoid a couple of predators – a spotted leopard that she only barely noticed and a spindly bodied wendigo that looked slow and lethargic, like it had just eaten – but other than that, her path was mostly unremarkable. Slowly, she picked her way toward the backside of the mountain, her senses tuned to pick up any hint of a frost giant patrol.

As predicted, there were none, which allowed her to pick her way around the mountain with relative ease. A few minutes turned into an hour, and an hour turned into half the day, but still, she found nothing. It wasn’t until she climbed a little higher up the slope that she spotted a crevasse that seemed a little too regularly shaped to be natural. Squinting, she focused on the formation, hoping to discern its nature. However, it was too far away for her to be sure, so she trudged up the slope toward what she hoped was her goal.

It took almost forty-five minutes, mostly because she was forced to climb a sheer cliff that was about forty-five feet high, but using her claws and the increased stats that had come with her transformation, her ascent was mostly painless. A little tedious, because she had to dig her own handholds, but it wasn’t difficult. Soon, she found herself at her destination. Even as the sun began to dip below the horizon, Talia knew that she’d discovered precisely what they needed.

In the cold, mountain air, the warm updraft that came from the crevasse marked it as unnatural. Looking into its depths, Talia could only see a dozen feet or so. Whether that was due to a switchback in the shaft or the descending darkness, she had no idea. But what was clear was that she’d found what the entrance they’d sought.

Standing up straight, she looked around. There was still no sign of the Jotuns who called the mountain home, but in the distance, she caught a flicker of movement. Crouching down in surprise, she stared in that direction, and she was rewarded a few seconds later by the sight of Abby slowly making her way through the craggy terrain.

Talia was about to start down the mountain to join her companion when, to her horror, she saw another wendigo – this one looking far less well-fed than the one she’d avoided – pounce from where it had been concealed behind a boulder. Long-limbed and skeletally thin, the monster had a vaguely canine head, and its body was covered with patchy, white fur. Because it was an ambush predator possessed of incredible speed, the wendigo was one of the more dangerous denizens of the mountains. Hundreds of travelers had fallen to the monsters.

And now it was about to kill her friend.

“No!” Talia gasped, springing to her feet. She was running before her mind caught up to her emotions. There was no way she could reach Abby in time. The other woman was a quarter of a mile away, and the monster was incredibly fast. Still, she sprinted down the mountain, activating [Alacrity of Undeath] without a second thought. Suddenly, she blurred forward as the skill took effect.

It wasn’t enough, though. The best she could hope for would be to avenge the woman who’d helped save her from that terrible abyss. More, Abby had done everything she could to help Talia cope with what had happened to her. Talia couldn’t watch her get ripped to shreds, but she couldn’t look away, either.

“Look out!” she screamed, her voice grinding against the surrounding boulders.

Abby smirked. Then, with a smooth maneuver that defied everything Talia had been taught about stats and how they worked, the archer stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding the wendigo’s frenzied attack. In the same motion, she unhooked the hatchet at her waist, and with a spinning strike that gave the weapon an insane amount of momentum, she struck the monster’s neck with a backhand blow. Flesh severed. Bone crunched. And before Talia could blink, the wendigo’s monstrous head went flying through the air to land on a patch of snow that had stubbornly resisted the sun’s efforts to melt it.

ABby wiped some of the sweat from her forehead, and her smirk became a beaming smile. “That went well, huh?” the blonde archer said. “Ugly thing, wasn’t it? Do you mind digging into it to see if you can find a core?”

Talia shrugged, then knelt beside the creature’s body and, using her claws, made quick work of the monster’s chest. A few moments later, she retracted a bloody hand and held a beast core up to the light. As Lady Constance’s daughter, no one had ever expected her to harvest or loot her own kills; she’d had people for that. So, as distasteful as she should’ve found the process, she actually reveled in it. Part of that might’ve been due to her undead instincts, though she tried to push that thought aside.

“Score,” Abby said. “Did you find anything? I’ve got nothing.”

Talia stood, pocketing the core. “I did,” she answered. Then, pointing back toward the crevasse she’d found, she elaborated, “I think there’s a shaft up there. The air coming out of it is warm, and it looks to have been carved.”

Abby nodded, “Good enough for me. Let’s go take a better look, then we’ll head back to the cottage. Hopefully, Zeke hasn’t gotten so distracted looking at those runes that he forgets to make dinner.”