Chapter 338: An Otherworldly Muster

“Gwyllai—” Alex cut the word off, realising the little fae was being stealthy because he was trying to avoid attention.

“You surprised me,” the wizard whispered. “I was just thinking about you this mor—Wait, did you say you found an aeld sapling?”

The asrai nodded as vigorously as a happy child proudly confirming she was ready for dessert. He climbed over the parapet, did a graceful somersault onto the wall then pressed his body to the stone, becoming part of the shadows.

“It took me a lot longer than I wanted, but I finally found one,” he whispered. “But we have to go see it right away! It’s sick or something.”

Alex squinted, looking up at the moon.

It had been a long day in Greymoor. Folks were normally up and away hunting dungeon core remains from first light, today was no exception.

Baelin arrived bright and early and teleported a team of ‘dungeon breakers’—a name the harvester groups had adopted—to a dungeon of cold belchers some fifty miles east of Greymoor. Alex and his friends were on that team, and even though the dungeon was new, the monsters fought like they were battle-hardened, giving his team a fight that was far from easy.

Temperatures in a cold belcher dungeon were numbingly cold, so the wizards had to cast layers of spells to withstand it. The icy floors were as reflective and treacherous as walking on glass. Walls of ice would abruptly spring from either ceiling or floor, and— just like in the chitterer dungeon—the dungeon core threw itself into the fight with abandon, determined to crush every last one of them.

For their effort, they’d successfully harvested the core—a Watcher shattered it with a spell of sonic energy—but their work hadn’t ended there. Dealing with stragglers then collapsing the dungeon took more time. Cataloguing, warding a cold tent to house the living specimens they’d captured, as well as attending to regular duties all had awaited when they returned to camp.

Research. Harvesting minerals.

Ongoing research castle construction and—more recently—outposts and fortifications throughout Greymoor. By day’s end, Alex and his dead tired teammates fell fast asleep as soon as they hit their cots.

But, a little under two hours later, he was rested and eager to get to work on his special training manual. He’d gathered writing supplies and his notes, then made his way to the finished inner castle wall that was now standing where the rampart of hardened earth once stood.

A clear night was rare in Greymoor—the moon and stars were bright—and soaring some forty feet above the hilltop, the top of the wall provided a fine view of the land. Alex had greeted the night guards and chatted for a bit before taking in the view then settling down to write.

Suddenly, Gwyllain was there, bringing news of the aeld sapling.

The timing…wasn’t exactly perfect.

“Can it wait until morning?” Alex asked, thinking about his friends. They were exhausted and his cabal had burned most of their mana in the cold belcher dungeon. Even if he was selfish enough to wake them up to come help him, they wouldn’t have much magic to call on. “The morning would be better., I think.”

“Why not now? You should go get your friends and come get the tree,” the asrai said eagerly.

“My friends…they’ve had a long day,” the young wizard explained. “I can’t see getting them up in the middle of the night, even for this.”

“Oh dear…oh dear…oh dear,” Gwyllain murmured, his ears drooping and his eyes looking off in the distance. Alex assumed that’s where the aeld sapling was. “Well…it might be able to wait. But…”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “But?”

“But! There’s something wrong with the sapling. It might be sick or stressed. The spirit inside of it’s upset, and that’s never a good sign.”

The young man chewed his lip, thinking. “Will it last through the night?”

“Ummmm, well I cannot tell you, if I’m honest. It felt very distressed. And maybe it was afraid of the monsters.”

“Wait, monsters?” Alex asked. “You didn’t say anything about monsters.”

“Liar! I did say something about monsters! Just now when I said ‘maybe it was afraid of monsters’,” Gwyllain insisted.

“Gwyllain, what—” He stopped talking as footsteps echoed nearby. They were soft, but his sharpened hearing picked them up. Guards were coming toward them, chatting and watching the moors.

They didn’t appear to be paying any attention to him, let alone the little asrai hidden in the shadows.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Meet me outside. Near the gates. I won’t be long.”

“Right, see you in a bit!” Gwyllain disappeared over the wall and Alex moved quickly. First, he went to his tent and filled his bag with potions, grabbed a bit of homemade jerky and a waterskin for the road. He still hadn’t made up his mind yet, but he’d be prepared if he did decide to go.

Once he’d gathered everything he could think of, he casually strolled over to the encampment’s front gates.

A familiar figure was stationed at the barricades for night duty—Ripp—the swiftling monster hunter he’d met in Generasi. He was alert, watching and listening, completely focused, but gave Alex a curious look as he came toward him. “Going somewhere?”

“Yeah, just heading out for a bit. Going to grab something out there.” Alex inclined his chin toward the wilderness.”

“Oh really? Off on a little hunt of your own? Going to get a dungeon core, are you?”

“No,” Alex told the truth. “Nothing like that.”

“Well then, you’re not on duty. What you do’s your own business. But, don’t go getting yourself killed.”

“Yeah, that’s not exactly the plan,” Alex said.

“It never is,” Ripp chuckled darkly, then called to another guard. “Let’s open up, Sid. Just you two going out?” he asked Alex, looking up at Claygon.

“Yep, just us.”

Kroom.

A pair of stone golems removed the bar and opened the gate, letting the young wizard and his golem pass. They walked between two more stone golems stationed outside and Alex nodded to them as he set off down the hill.

He passed the partly completed outer castle wall, walking slowly until he heard little footsteps approaching.

“Gwyllain?” he said.

“Yes, Alex, I’m here,” the fae answered. “So will you go?”

“First, tell me about these monsters that the tree might be afraid of. In detail.”

“Well…not much detail to give. I met a pixie who said that their cousin’s cousin saw monsters near the aeld tree and that they’d gone a while ago.”

“A pixie’s…cousin’s…cousin. Okay,” Alex said slowly. “And that’s all they said? Not how many monsters? Not what they looked like? Not where they went and when?”

“Not really,” the asrai said apologetically. “But you’re a brave slayer of monsters, aren’t you? You wouldn’t be afraid of a few raggedy wild monsters!”

“Well, I think anyone that’s sensible would be cautious around wild monsters…” Alex said, acutely aware that—by most peoples’ standards—he’d left any notion of being ‘sensible’ behind long ago.

“But if the wild monsters come back, they might harm the little sapling, and then it’d be dead and my debt to you would still be unfulfilled,” Gwyllain said. “Come, I’m sure there’s nothing to be afraid of!”

Alex frowned, considering what to do.

Going out alone at night to follow a fae to find a mysterious tree in a place that might or might not have monsters around sounded like a good way to get killed. At least, to most people.

The sensible thing to do would be to…not go, if he were honest.

The second most sensible thing to do would be to wait, gather people in the morning after they’d had a good night’s sleep, then go for the tree. But, that had its own problems. He’d have to see if his friends could get away from their morning duties—not to mention skip out on his own—and more importantly, Gwyllain wouldn’t be able to survive the sun to guide them anywhere in daylight.

And what would happen if other folks heard about the aeld? They held a lot of value. He doubted Professor Jules would make a claim for it, but others might follow and try to claim a share for themselves. And even if that didn’t happen—if things were as desperate for the sapling as Gwyllain thought—then it could be dead in the morning, or ripped apart by monsters. Would he get another chance like this?

He was silent, considering things.

Then he shook his head.

He was thinking like a baker’s assistant, nervous at what might be waiting in the wilderness, wondering if he should go for what he needed. But, he wasn’t a baker’s assistant. Not anymore. Hadn’t he been gathering power since he left Thameland? Hadn’t he made potions and learned spells to counter enemies? Hadn’t he learned how to heal himself in case he was injured?

And trained his body to the absolute limit?

And besides, it wasn’t like he was alone.

Claygon was with him…and he could bring more ‘friends’ along too.

“Alright, let’s go, Gwyllain,” Alex said. “Let’s go meet your tree and settle your debt. And if the tree needs rescuing? Then, hell. Let’s rescue it.”

He chuckled to himself.

Maybe Cedric and Hart were rubbing off on him.

The final Hunter startled. Could this be true?

It had scaled the windmill and was perched on one of four blades, digging its claws into the wood. The view from so high gave it a perfect view of the woods and hills far in the distance, as well as miles of wilderness. A light wind blew, and the strange human mechanics that turned the blades had long seized, making the spot the perfect place to perch.

Its senses could stretch for miles…and one of those senses told it something that seemed too good to be true. Could its senses be wrong? Were hope and frustration twisting its thoughts? It focused acutely, sending pings through the air, reaching across the miles, feeling out any sources of mana.

The pings travelled a great distance, confirming what the Hunter had sensed: the usurper was coming closer.

They were coming this way!

Stifling a roar of triumph, it swung its scaly form off the windmill blade and in through a window on the ancient structure. Inside, on the uppermost floor…a hive of monsters waited.

Silence-spiders clung to stone walls. Beast-goblins and venom walkers milled about the well-worn floor. Crich-tulaghs gathered on the first floor below. And the hags…they sat in the midst of all the monsters on the upper floor, turning in surprise when the Hunter appeared.

“What is it?” the younger sister asked. “What did—”

“They come! The enemies come!”

“You know this?” The elder hag’s face turned more sour than usual. “How? He is still miles away.”

‘He?’ the final Hunter wondered. ‘Just one wizard? Only the usurper?’

This was only getting better!

“I have ways of knowing,” it said. “You do not tell me all. I do not tell you all.”

“Hm,” the younger hag sniffed. “Fair. Well, this is a disappointment. Only one comes. The one who controls the big clay statue. There are no others with him, except that slippery asrai who should have been in my belly! He guides the wizard to the aeld tree, no doubt,” she growled like an angry dog. “Destroying the clay creature will be a boon, but killing just those two won’t remove as much of their fighting strength as we need! Agh!”

She glared into the distance, witnessing the usurper through avian eyes. “Hmmm…maybe we should capture them to lure the rest…then, a trap will feed a trap.”

“We could do the same if he’s dead,” the Hunter spoke quickly.

The hags did not know of the usurper’s importance to its task, and they did not have to know. Still, there were ways to bring them to its way of thinking without revealing too much. “If they go missing, then the interlopers will search for them. I know mortals; they will hunt for their kin even if they think they are dead. We kill the wizard now, and break the clay thing. Less risk.”

“...fair enough,” the younger hag said agreeably. “We’ll set our ambush from up here. The man will be here soon enough, so we’ll wait until he reaches the clearing where the aeld tree’s planted…and then, we’ll attack from all sides.”

“Good! Come! Make ready! The final Hunter called to the gathered Ravener-spawn.

A horde of monsters poured down the windmill, readying themselves for a kill.

At last.

At last the usurper would die.

“He is here, sister. And the asrai too, I will taste his juicy flesh after all, and the wait will make him taste even sweeter,” the younger hag said, watching through an owl’s eyes as the human approached alongside the fae and clay statue.

“I see that,” the elder replied. “That was fast. He moves quickly. With hope, he’ll be tired out and the fight will be easy.”

“Be careful, sister,” the younger warned. “The clay statue has much power. It ripped my crich-tulagh apart with its bare hands.”

“Our magics and allies will take care of that,” the elder’s confidence was strong. “And it follows the orders of the man. Once he is dead, it will be much less of a threat.”

“Yes,” her sister said, eager for vengeance. “When he is dead.” She savoured the words while watching the human through an owl’s eyes. He stretched and eyed the forest.

‘Hurry up!’ she thought. ‘Enter the trap!’

But he didn’t enter their trap, instead, his lips began moving.

A circle of magic appeared before him, then a large water droplet materialised inside.

So, he was conjuring a servant? No matter, they had many servants to—

Her thought paused.

The man’s lips hadn’t stopped.

Another monster appeared before him.

Then another.

And another.

And another.

The hag’s jaw dropped.

She’d been wrong: their enemy wasn’t coming alone. He was conjuring an army.