Chapter 168: Escape

Chapter 168: Escape

Floating weightlessly, Rain gripped the lip of the inlet pipe with one hand as he maneuvered the enormous turbine blade into position with skeletal fingers. His current avatar, Big Bone, had never gone past that point. The glossy adamant skeleton had simply looked too sick, especially with the burning blue flames he’d added for eyes. It was also perfect for work outside the Bastion, thanks to its lack of sensitive fleshy bits. The instinct to breathe was a lot easier to disregard when you could look down to see through your ribcage. Rain had taken advantage of the free space there, building himself a prototype sub-core in place of a heart.

He brought a hand in front of his sternum, and with a mental command, instructed the output port of the metal sphere to open. He guided the resulting trickle of essence through his ribs, gathering it into a ball. Closing the port again, he let the sub-core return to purifying chaos as he used the fresh essence to weld the blade to the central hub.

In truth, the sub-core was just a framework for a mental trick. The construct served as an anchor, allowing him to offload the conversion process to his subconscious. The moment he left this avatar, the trick would stop working. It was a far cry from his actual core, shining at the bottom of the expanded inlet pipe, which had been cleared of the flow-restricting grates. The conversion rate just didn’t compare. The sub-core couldn’t even outpace Dozer, currently floating somewhere behind him.

[You okay out there, Dozer?] Rain sent, spinning himself around to peer in the industrious slime’s direction.

[Happy, happy, happy!] Dozer sent, invisible through the smog.

Rain’s eyes flickered and danced in amusement, complementing his skeletal grin as he looked down at the Bastion. He had enlarged it significantly, and Dozer’s habitat had been no exception. The slime had still seemed unsatisfied at being cooped up inside all the time, however. Rain didn’t see how it made a difference—there really wasn’t a lot to see out here—but Dozer had been ecstatic when he’d finally relented and brought him out this time. The inquisitive slime had jetted off to explore without hesitation.

Shaking his head, Rain turned back to the inlet pipe, reaching for another fan blade from the bundle strapped to his back. As his core had continued to grow, so had its rate of purification, to the point that the old intake had been struggling to keep up. Hopefully, with this jet-engine-inspired upgrade, he’d really start making a dent.

Rain smiled, waiting for his sub-core to process enough essence for the next weld. In retrospect, he should have just brought some extra with him. He had a lot of free essence now, stored in enormous tanks after overflowing his core room. His crystalline core just kept pumping it out, whether he was here or not. Even now, with the intake off, it was still producing. From measuring the flow rates in a previous experiment, he’d come to the realization that souls made extra essence in addition to what they purified. Spontaneous production was significantly slower than purification, but the rate was increasing no less quickly. The bigger his core got, the better things worked.

The degree of time-acceleration in here was another good example of that. It was nowhere near what he’d experienced in soulspace, but a 1.12x factor was nothing to sneeze at, especially considering that it had been only 1.08x when he’d first noticed it. The acceleration only applied when he was actually inside his soul, but if the rate continued to grow along with his core, it would really start adding up to some extra time. That was good, as every minute spent in here was a minute not spent battling one of the thousands of other items on his to-do list.

Ugh. And now I’m thinking about it. [Hey Dozer, you ever have so much to do that you just end up taking a nap?]

[No sleep! Clean ⟬filth⟭!] Dozer sent encouragingly.

[Working on it, Dozer. Working on it.]

Rain shook his head slowly. He knew that he needed to spend more time in here, but he still felt guilty for stealing as much as this hour to work on his own problems. He was supposed to be out there captaining, not hiding in here building a fancy turbine. His scheduled meeting with the Council of Engineering had been canceled, yes, but there were plenty of other things that could have filled the gap in his schedule.

Rain’s flaming eyes became pensive as he considered the incident that had prompted that cancellation. When he had returned to camp and heard what had happened, he’d gone immediately to Tallheart’s room to check on him. However, the smith had been distant and evasive. Recognizing that he needed some alone time, Rain had left, but not before extracting a promise for a later explanation. Tallheart clearly wanted to talk about it, but he just wasn’t ready, and Rain knew well that the only way to deal with a brooding Tallheart was to wait.

Maybe Ameliah will have better luck with him when she gets back.

Sensing that his sub-core had produced enough essence, Rain willed the outlet port open again. Guiding the glowing liquid through his ribs, he used it to weld the blade into place. He’d planned for thirty-two blades in total—excessive, maybe, but anything worth doing was worth overdoing, and he was already more than halfway done.

Work, work.

Rain paused in maneuvering the next blade into position, tilting his head. With his growing proficiency, he’d found that he could retain more and more awareness of his physical body without risking getting booted back into it. Releasing the blade to tumble gently, he focused. Carefully, he edged himself back toward wakefulness, then his edging became a deliberate push as he recognized the sound that had disturbed him.

His eyes sprung open seconds before Vanna tore open the door to his office, the alarm bell ringing from behind her in the company hall.

“Good, you’re already awake,” she said, beckoning.

“What is it?” Rain asked, rising from his chair and searching around for the threat with Detection. “What’s going on?”

A grim expression on her face, Vanna reached into her pocket as he approached, then handed him a steel marble, painted black.

“Shit,” Rain said, staring at the blackened ball in his hand.

In a locked room in her office, Vanna had rigged up a system improving upon their accolade-messaging system. A wooden frame now held the plates, a metal ball balanced atop each one. If an Accolade was summoned, the ball would drop through the frame to land on a large sheet of aluminum, making a recognizable sound. Anyone could determine the message from the color of the ball without having to know accolades were involved. Black meant ‘extreme danger.’

“Yes, shit,” Vanna said in agreement.

Rain didn’t bother to ask Vanna if she’d checked her apparatus to make sure that it wasn’t a false alarm. She would have. He closed his hand around the ball tightly, then looked up. “Right. Here we go.”

Several hours later, Rain stood silently on the battlements above the gate to Ascension’s compound, staring out at the crimson sky. The sun was steadily creeping below the darkening horizon, but the light of the crude street lamps was more than enough to see the gathered strength of Ascension arrayed below him.

It was a slightly rag-tag group, given the variation in equipment, but Samson had arrayed them in an orderly formation, with a line of shield-bearers at the front followed closely by unawakened wielding spears and the like. Fighters with shorter weapons—optimistically swords, but more often kitchen knives and in one case a pair of table legs—were placed behind them, surrounding the outer camp, which was full of livestock. All non-combatants had retreated to within the compound, including many who’d come in from Vestvall when news of the alarm had reached the city.

The battlements were positively choked with archers. If there was one thing they didn’t have a shortage of, it was hunting bows and hunters to wield them. Rain would have preferred crossbows, but Ascension only had a handful of the weapons in their possession despite continuing negotiations with Lady Sale, or rather, her intermediaries. The woman was paranoid to the extreme, refusing to meet with him, or even to show her face outside her mansion. The consensus from the townsfolk was that she was losing her mind in her old age, which was enough of a horrifying thought without even considering that she was supposed to be stronger than the other nobles.

A heavy sigh from Rain’s left made his eye twitch.

Speaking of the other nobles.

When Rain didn’t look over, Argan Urs cleared his throat, then spoke. “Exactly how long do you intend to stand out here?”

“Until she returns,” Rain said calmly, managing to keep his voice level. “Nobody told you you had to stand with me.”

In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t.

Rain managed to prevent himself from speaking the thought aloud. The last thing he needed right now was more drama. He’d thought things had been getting better, but the last few hours had disabused him of that notion. In the heat of the crisis, Lord Hakim had been a constant irritant, and as for Lord Urs, just having him around was enough. Rain loathed the man and everything he represented. The old noble was a total skeeve—even with the business with Jamus set aside, that was plain to see. For example, his guards were all female, forced to wear form-fitting armor that offered...dubious...protection. Lady Urs—Karilla, Jamus’s ex—was a piece of work too, intolerable for different reasons. Rain had no idea what Jamus had ever seen in the woman.

Unfortunately, Rain had thus far been unable to justify locking the Urs duo in a dark cell and throwing away the key. Lord and Lady Urs, for their part, had done nothing overtly criminal since Rain had arrived. If anything, their house was the least troublesome of the lot.

Rain’s eye twitched again as Lord Hakim laid a hand on Rain’s opposite shoulder.

“It will be true dusk soon. Lord Captain, you must consider what we will do if Lady Ameliah does not return before then. There is still time to send the commoners back to the city.”

“I told you to never call me that,” Rain said coldly, reaching up to remove the nobleman’s hand. “If night falls, so what? We have light, and until we know more about the threat, it is better to have everyone together as much as possible.” Damn that woman. Rain grit his teeth, attempting to put Lady Sale out of his mind. “We will stand watch as we always do.”

“In that case, I would be honored to command the first watch so you can rest,” Lord Hakim said. “We will need your strength when the threat arrives. Leave it to me. I have defended Vestvall for—“

“No,” Rain interrupted, his head throbbing. He keeps trying this shit. “Once dusk falls, we will thin the freshspawn, and only then will we begin a rotation if I deem it necessary. Not before. You may command your own house as you wish, but my people do not answer to you.” And never will. You think you’re clever, ding dong, but actually buying the ‘answers’ to the asshole test? Come on. Way to fall for the trap. Happy studying, asshole. Take it whenever you’re ready, and we’ll see what it gets you.

“But—” Lord Hakim began, but Rain cut him off.

“I said no.”

Lord Hakim mercifully closed his mouth, and Rain took a deep, calming breath, resisting the urge to rub at his temples. The headache had begun not long after the message had arrived, brought on by stress and worry. Silence returned but for the occasional creak of leather and mutter of conversation from below, and absently, Rain began opening and closing his hand, as he’d been doing on and off since the preparations had been completed.

Where is she? Come on, Ameliah. Come on.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Tarny.”

“Here,” Tarny replied, stepping forward between Rain and Lord Urs.

“Go check if Ameliah has sent another message,” Rain commanded. What he was really asking was to check if any of the plates had come unbound. Tarny would understand.

“I—yes,” Tarny said, retreating.

Rain nodded. This wasn’t the first time he’d asked. Rationally, he knew Vanna would have immediately sent word if the worst had happened, but he still needed to know for sure.

“You really care for her, don’t you?” Lord Urs asked, sounding pensive.

That’s it.

Rain spoke in a soft, controlled tone as he turned to stare directly at Lord Urs. “I am not your friend. Do not mistake my tolerance of your presence for anything but what it is. That tolerance has reached its end. Leave.”

What might have been a flicker of crazed anger crossed the lord’s face, but he hid it quickly. Silently, he nodded, then turned for the stairs. Rain was sure that Urs fully mirrored the hatred that Rain felt for him, but he wasn’t dumb. You could work with someone you hated, if the situation called for it.

“Ha!” Lord Hakim laughed. “That’s right, Urs, turn tail like—“

“You too,” Rain interrupted, looking back out at the sky.

“Even after Ameliah provoked them?” Samson asked.

“Hey,” Rain said sharply. “It wasn’t her fault.”

“I never said that it was,” Samson replied.

“It’s fine, Rain,” Ameliah said, sitting up and raking her fingers through her disheveled hair as she smoothed it back. “I know I screwed up.”

“You did not,” Tallheart said. “You were correct that the Empire was aware of your approach. They are quite difficult to take by surprise. If you had not reacted decisively, you would not have returned to us. You would have died. They would have sent Knives to deal with you the moment they realized you were not a Citizen.”

Ameliah shook her head, closing her eyes and leaning tiredly back in her chair.

Rain grimaced.

“Knives?” Vanna asked.

“A kill team,” Tallheart clarified. “Assassins.”

“How do you know all this?” Meloni piped up, looking at Tallheart. “You’ve fought them, haven’t you?”

“I have,” Tallheart said, swiveling his neck to meet her gaze. Meloni quickly looked away, and Jamus wrapped an arm around her shoulder, leaning in to whisper into her ear.

“Would you care to elaborate?” Samson asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I would not,” Tallheart replied, his tone no less placid than the first time Samson had asked that question. “We have more pressing matters to discuss than my...hmm...history. It is unlikely that the army will come this way, but they will send Hounds.” He paused, then rumbled as he elaborated. “Elite trackers and scouts. If the Adamants did not already know that Vestvall had survived the Shift, they soon will.”

“And what will they do about it?” Samson asked. “If I was their commander, I wouldn’t concern myself with Vestvall, given the lack of strategic value. That said, I wouldn’t want an unknown force like Ascension anywhere near my army either. They’ll see our camp and the fortifications Ameliah built, then conclude that we have a powerful Geomancer at the very least.”

“Mmm,” Tallheart said. “At most, they will send a single battalion.”

Samson crossed his arms. “I don’t see how that makes things any less dire than we feared.”

“How many soldiers are in a battalion?” Vanna asked. “Could we fight them off?”

“Five hundred and twelve,” Tallheart answered, pivoting to look at her as she paled. “And no. We could not. The strength of such a group rivals a high silver party at least.” He shifted his attention back to Samson. “They will not commit until they have verified that there is no Citizen ambush waiting for them. Hounds are disposable. Even Knives. Hmm. Knives are the real concern. My presence will serve as a deterrent. I will do my best to make myself seen.”

“Hold on, there, Tallheart,” Rain said, sitting forward. “How the depths would knowing you’re here make them LESS likely to send killers after us?”

Tallheart snorted. “Snowlilly taught them not to.” He chuckled. “They were slow learners.”

A moment of shocked silence followed this pronouncement until Jamus spoke lightly. “And this is why I don’t ask Tallheart about his past.”

Tallheart rumbled.

After a brief pause, Samson sighed. “Well. We have a little time, it seems. I suppose we could try to kill the Hounds when they come. Keep them guessing.”

“We will not see them,” Tallheart said flatly. “I know what you are thinking. The soldiers Ameliah encountered were not Hounds. That was a common patrol, doubtless already in the area when the Eyes sensed her approach.”

Vanna sighed, exasperated. “Hounds, Knives, Eyes... This is all great, but we’re getting off track. Leave or stay; that’s the real question. I can’t see a reason for the Adamants to hold Fel Sadanis now that the teleporter has been destroyed. Now, I don’t think we should do this, but we should at least consider hunkering down and waiting for the storm to pass. The army might go west to attack Southguard or something.”

“We don’t know that the teleporter has been destroyed,” Samson said. “Majistraal artifacts are legendarily indestructible.”

“Like the barrier?” Vanna challenged.

“We know that they were able to bring it down,” Samson countered. “We don’t know that they destroyed the artifact that generates it. If either the obelisk or the teleporter survived, the Empire would wish to hold the city without question.”

“Point,” Vanna said, rubbing her eyes. “I’m out of my depth, here.”

“We all are,” Samson said diplomatically. “Your first question cut to the core. Stay or go.”

“Staying would be foolish,” Tallheart said. “This location is no longer safe. We can no longer rely on the Watch to stand between us and the war.”

“Agreed,” said Samson.

Rain tipped back in his chair. They had the right of it, and he saw no need to add his voice in. He closed his eyes, rubbing tiredly at the bridge of his nose. The pressure in his sinuses was really becoming unbearable. He was starting to think that this headache was from something other than just stress. As soon as they were done here, he was going straight into his soul. He was leagues below the level of mana usage that he’d determined to be safe, but the last thing he needed was another rupture.

“What about the crack, though?” Vanna asked.

“We can’t hide down there,” Jamus pointed out. “It would be too dangerous for the unawakened.”

“I know that,” Vanna said hotly. “I didn’t mean hide in it. We just decided we’re leaving, didn’t we? I meant, what are we going to do about it. Could we collapse it so the Adamants don’t get access to the depths?”

“Ah,” Jamus replied. “My mistake. It is a good question. This war isn’t our business, but I don’t like the idea of handing the Empire an easy ticket to power. Collapsing it sounds wise.”

“I doubt we could do it, though,” Samson said. “Not so thoroughly so they couldn’t dig it back open, and not without delaying our departure. Corrin isn’t up to the task. Even if Ameliah switched back to Geomancer to help him, it would be an enormous undertaking.”

“I’m not switching,” Ameliah said, finally rejoining the conversation. “I need to keep my build how it is for now. Especially if Knives are coming.”

“Mmm,” Tallheart rumbled in agreement.

“The nobles’ ancestral lairs should be destroyed, though,” Samson mused. “Supposing they exist, that is, and that they are nearby. It isn’t a guarantee, especially with families as small as these. We should try to convince them to let us—“

Rain sneezed explosively, the front legs of his chair slamming back to the floor as he hunched forward to cover his mouth. Everyone jumped.

“Sorry,” Rain said, or rather, attempted to say, but another enormous sneeze interrupted him. He covered his mouth again, catching a splatter of mucus as the pressure in his sinuses shifted. He sneezed again, spluttering as yet more phlegm filled his nose and mouth.

“Rain?” Ameliah asked, reaching over to steady him as the sneezes continued. He was growing alarmed, each sneeze seeming stronger and more irresistible than the last. Finally, with one last enormous heave, Rain managed to clear his airway, translucent ooze spraying everywhere and taking the headache along with it.

“Ugh,” Meloni said in disgust.

Confused and not just a little bit embarrassed, Rain lowered his hands from his face, trailing strings of ropey snot. His hands, forearms, and knees were covered. He sniffed, then activated Purify, and befuddlement was quickly replaced by shock as the magic did nothing to clean up the mess. Instead, the phlegm was rapidly gathering itself together, oozing back into his outstretched hands, not stopping until it had formed a white, cloudy, grapefruit-sized glob.

The glob quivered, and the cloudiness vanished in a flash, leaving it entirely clear.

[Rain-King!] Dozer sent, the telepathic link stuffed to bursting with the Crystal Slime’s elation.

“Dozer!?” Rain demanded, lurching to his feet and knocking over his chair in the process. He cupped his hands and raised the tiny Crystal Slime to his face, staring in disbelief.

[Rain-King big!] Dozer sent, jiggling from side to side as silence fell over the room.

“Could someone please explain to me what just happened?” Samson asked lightly.

Ameliah moved silently next to Rain, peering over his shoulder. Dozer went berserk.

[Ameliah-Queen! Hello!]

“Dozer says hello,” Rain said numbly. Turning his thoughts toward the miniaturized slime, he pressed a wordless desire for an explanation through the link, receiving a confusing jumble of impressions. Dozer’s fear for his king, the irresistible urge to help, sharp metal blades and a tight squeeze, a tube leading to a warm rock, then pushing, followed by suction and a long tunnel leading to somewhere dark, cramped, and wet. It took Rain a moment to translate all that, but when he did, it was clear enough what had happened. Not how, of course.

Tallheart rumbled, breaking the spell.

“Humans. They always need to be the center of attention.”