“What do you mean they’re gone?”

  Venton was furious, and it was all Darius could do to keep the smile off of his face.

  “My daughter has not written since they arrived in Old Valen, and she hasn’t responded to my latest message. What else would you have from me, High Emissary?”

  Darius refused to budge as Venton strode across the room and shoved a finger in his face.

  “If I find out you knew this boy was godlaced and kept it from me, I will have you cast from the Order.”

  “I have already been truth tested by the Archive on this matter. If you have any doubts, you can take it up with him.”

  They held a glare for a long moment, but Venton was the first to look away.

  “You will tell me the moment you hear from her.”

  Darius gave a curt nod and opened the door. Before leaving, he turned as a thought occurred.

  “Why not have Gannymede find them?

  He hoped to hear that the Templar was still called away to the capitol, and therefore his daughter was safe from the man’s insidious [Divine Skill]. Venton pursed his lips and hesitated.

  “Gannymede has been killed.”

  Darius froze.

  “The giant-kin?”

  “It is not your place to know, Senior Loremaster. I should not even have told you that much. Please refrain from slamming the door on your way out this time.”

  He didn’t slam the door, but not out of any respect for Venton. Darius’s mind was racing. Who had the means to murder a Templar in the heart of the capitol? What were the formorians up to?

  And most importantly, why did his [Word Search] [Skill] detect the word ‘assassin’ written four times on a letter hidden in the High Emissary’s desk?

  ***

  The week to the edge of the Ahrnzee Plains was uneventful. Tolliver kept entirely to himself, and Raith did nothing to discourage his absence. Thea, Nyhm and Zinny spent a lot of time sorting through Nyhm’s ingredients and discussing what to do with them.

  For his part, Raith socialized a little with the players and Troublemakers, but his heart wasn’t in it. He was depressed from Tolliver's confession, and the lurking anxiety of getting caught by the Templars had him distracted and jumping at shadows. He knew he should be encouraging the team to train more during their downtime in the evenings, but just couldn’t find the motivation. To the extent he did anything productive, it was alone in his library with only Veil as a silent companion.

  When the caravan reached the fields of hydra grass, it was midday, and they pulled up for a stop so Director Sukash could address everyone.

  “Once we get in there, no separating from the group. Everyone gets a bathroom buddy, and I don’t care how uncomfortable that makes you. There are many predators out there, so poop with a friend or get eaten. Don’t go exploring when we stop for the evening. For the next two weeks, everyone is on watch rotation at night. I don’t care if you're a [Warrior] or a [Seamstress]. Four up at all times. Captain Gerta will be coming around to hand out assignments. Any questions?”

  No one had any they were willing to voice, but several people looked worried.

  “Alright, let’s break here for the night and we’ll head out at first light.”

  One of the dwarves was the first to die.

  Maybe he figured that since they weren’t all the way in the plains yet, it was ok to go right up to the edge of the towering grass and pee.

  A scream rang out, quickly cut off as he was yanked out of sight by a sytheclaw tiger. Gerta and her team ran in after him, but emerged a short time later with nothing but a bloody boot. Anyone who hadn’t taken Sukash’s warnings seriously before definitely was now.

  Everyone was quiet as they broke camp in the predawn light. The road ahead was paved and wide enough to accommodate several wagons side by side. Immediately at the edges of the road, the hydra grass began. The tall, densely packed plants made it feel like they were entering a tunnel with no roof.

  No one wanted to be near the sides, so the caravan stretched out longer than it had previously as everyone hugged the middle of the road. It made the Troublemaker’s job harder, especially for the horses that had to continuously patrol up and down the flanks to make sure nothing crept into their train.

  Raith found that with [Hawksight], riding on top of Cross’s wagon gave him a good vantage to keep watch as they traveled. Neither Cross nor Pridian objected. It didn’t take long for the sun to start getting to him, so he borrowed a large straw hat from the players. It may have looked silly, but it made a huge difference.

  It was because of this vantage that late on the fourth day, he spotted a large cluster of disturbances in the grass moving quickly towards them from half a mile to the north. He called the alarm, and the Troublemaker’s [Ranger], Finn, hopped up with him to look. After only a moment, he cursed.

  “Bugbears!”

  “Everyone hold on to something. I’m using [Wagon Rampart],” Director Sukash shouted.

  With startling abruptness, every wagon in the caravan unhitched from their horses and floated themselves into a tight circle with the animals herded into the center. Raith was almost thrown from his perch, but between his agility and boots was able to keep his feet underneath him. When everything stopped moving, he could see a shimmering barrier rising from the outside edge of each wagon.

  “Weaver’s tits, what level [Skill] is that?”

  The [Ranger] shot him a smile.

  “She’s fifth braid. One of the best [Caravaners] on Tela. The Director’s given us a decent defensive position to fight from. Let’s hope it’s enough.”

  Captain Gerta rode around barking orders and getting everyone with a bow into position. Nyhm and Thea joined him on top of the wagon and peered at the oncoming waves of grass. His brother was leaning forward with a wide stance and tightly clenched fists.

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  “How many?”

  “Around fifty raiders,” Fynn said. “Big for a southern tribe.”

  The elfling’s eyes narrowed.

  “The smallest of the northern tribes are ten times that. Weakness is not tolerated among their kind. Any who fail to reach the second braid by the age of twenty are exiled. There will be powerful [Warriors] among them.”

  Nyhm gave a grim smile and Raith saw a slight tremble in his leg. Someone who didn’t know his brother might mistake it for fear, but Raith knew better. He would have felt sorry for the bugbears if his own stomach wasn’t doing so many flip flops.

  He could now see the tallest of the brutish faerie-kin. Furry, pointed ears poking above the eight foot grass. Their mouths wore a snarl of sharp teeth, and flat faces were framed by a coat of course fur. In spite of their bulky frames, they approached stealthily. Had Raith not spotted the group, the caravan would have been taken by surprise.

  The wagon shook beneath his feet as Pridian stirred and walked out to join them. His huge wings stretched wide and gave a few lazy flaps before launching him into the air with a powerful leap.

  Fynn drew back on his bow, sighted down the arrow at the tallest of them, and let fly. It hit the creature in the center of the forehead and continued all the way out the back, fletchings scrapped off by the skull as the arrow passed through.

  The bugbear dropped like a rock.

  All motion in the grass paused. After a moment of silence, a bone chilling roar rang out and was quickly picked up by the entire tribe. The approach became a full-on rush.

  Fynn actually started laughing as he sent one arrow after another, plunging into the oncoming enemy. Nyhm was shaking, and when the bugbears were still fifty yards out he couldn’t take it anymore and leapt from the wagon to meet the charge.

  “Nyhm, wait!”

  But it was too late. Without turning or letting up on the steady stream of arrows, Fynn nodded in the direction the elfling had run.

  “Better get after him.”

  Raith and Thea quickly followed and Raith found himself in over his head, quite literally.

  Dammit, Nyhm. This was stupid. I can’t see a thing in here.

  Worse, in the tight grass, he couldn’t spin his rope and get the momentum he needed for an effective attack. He considered heading back out to the open road but heard a low grunt followed by the sounds of fighting ahead.

  By the time he got there, a heavily armored bugbear lay on the ground with his throat ripped out and the last of his blood pumping into the dirt. Raith leapt ten feet straight up into the air and looked around for his brother.

  A thick arrow instantly shot out of the nearby grass, but he fired off [Spinning Deflection], knocking the arrow from the air while in mid leap.

  Raith didn’t see where his brother went, but he saw the three bugbears closest to him. Unfortunately, they saw him, too. Thea blasted past him in a [Shield Bash] to meet the charge of one, stopping it cold. Her root gauntlet shot out tendrils to entangle its axe, and she brought the edge of her shield up into his jaw three times in rapid succession before it dropped. Once on the ground, she stomped in his skull with a sharp hoof.

  She whirled and threw down a six foot high vine wall.

  “Give yourself some height.”

  Raith jumped on top and began spinning some energy into his dart. Another of the bugbears crashed into the wall. Raith leapt over it, sending a [Piercing Shot] into the top of its head. The massive warrior’s momentum exploded the wall, and Raith jerked the dart out of its skull as the bugbear collapsed to the ground with blood trickling out of his mouth.

  The moment he landed, a blow to his back knocked the wind from his lungs and sent him hurtling through the air to land face first in the dirt. He thanked the Weavers for his leather’s bludgeoning resistance, because without it his ribs and back would surely have broken.

  Spitting out dirt, he wiped blood from his lip and pushed himself up. He heard a sharp crack and Thea came flying backwards past him. He saw the incoming club just in time to fire off [Acrobatic Evasion] and tumble behind the brute who’d swung it.

  Raith got a good look at this bugbear for the first time. At around seven feet, he wasn’t the tallest of the lot, but he more than made up for it in bulk. Even through the course fur, corded muscles flexed and rippled as the creature whirled to track his passing. The protective grid of bones stitched onto his leather armor had an uncanny sheen that Raith suspected was magical. An enormous curved club ended in a head-sized ball and was already speeding back towards Raith.

  Reaching into a pouch as he jumped backwards and watched the club leave a massive dent in the earth, Raith pulled out a flash pellet and threw it directly at the warrior’s face before rolling off to the side. He heard it go off, followed by a roar. Then immediately followed up the flash pellet with a hit to the eyes of pepper powder.

  Thea came back into the fray with a [Shield Bash] to the back of his unprotected legs. The blow drew another roar of pain and anger, but somehow the thing managed to stay on its feet. He whirled around blindly with a horizontal blow the Thea just barely got her shield in front of. There was another crack as the blow struck her shield, but this time it was her arm that gave out under the incredible strength of their foe. She cried out and stumbled backwards, narrowly avoiding another blind swing.

  The bones on the bugbear’s armor flashed, and he was enveloped in a faint red light. Immediately, the limp from Thea's blow vanished and he rapidly blinked his eyes to regain some sight.

  “Come on, that’s not fair.”

  The warrior sent the club towards the sound of his voice, but Raith had already moved. He saw Thea uncork a healing potion and cast his dart at the bugbear to give her a precious few moments to mend.

  His dart glanced off the enchanted bones and the bugbear’s hand shot out and caught the rope faster than Raith had thought possible. With a powerful tug, it pulled Raith towards itself and lifted the club to smack him out of the air as he flew forwards. Raith flung another flash bomb into its face and the club missed badly. He turned the momentum from the pull into a flying kick that planted straight into the warrior’s nose, shattering it with a wet thud.

  It let go of his rope and stumbled backwards, grabbing at its ruined face. The faint red glow brightened a bit, and Raith felt a sinking sensation as the broken nose shifted and healed while he watched. He stepped backwards to put some more room between himself and that club while he figured out their next move.

  “He can’t keep that up forever,” Thea muttered as she came up beside him.

  “Yeah, but neither can we. Maybe we can lead him back to the road and reinforcements.”

  “Look out!”

  They dove apart as the club spun through the air where they were just standing and returned to the warrior’s hand like a boomerang. It wound up for another throw, then aborted the attack and swatted at its ear, digging inside with a clawed finger then shaking its head like a dog.

  Raith saw the little brown bat circle back around overhead and gave a grudging nod of appreciation. Zinny soon followed, rising over the grass on her faerie dragon and sending an arrow into the bugbear’s neck. It stumbled a bit, then growled and ripped the tiny weapon out, snapping it in half with its thumb.

  “He’s supposed to go to sleep,” Zinny complained as she wheeled the steed back around, barely avoiding another club throw.

  She reached into her quiver and took aim with another arrow, but this one had a silvery hue dancing along the shaft. It flew unerringly, trailing motes of light behind. Like the first, it sank into the warrior’s neck but with profoundly different results.

  The massive creature jerked stiffly upright, arms shooting straight down by its sides. Its eyes shot open with panic, and feet began stepping and tapping in rhythmic succession in the dirt.

  “Take that, foul beast. Twas my greatest arrow.”

  They all paused and watched as the bugbear grimaced in horror and broke out into dancing a jig. Zinny turned to Raith and pointed.

  “Now’s your chance. Kill it!”

  The bugbear was wide eyed with fear at its body’s betrayal, legs intricately hopping around the small clearing created by their battle.

  Thea shook her head.

  “What the threaded fuck, Zinny?”

  “What are you waiting for?” the little fae screeched. “Murder the beast.”

  Raith took a deep breath. This felt really wrong, but if that thing recovered it would kill them all. He spun his dart and cast it into the warrior’s eye, piercing deeply and drawing a howl of pain.

  But it didn’t die. And it didn’t stop dancing.

  It took five more throws to bring it down, each time drawing a cheer from Zinny and a groan from Thea. Its movements slowed as blood cascaded down its face and neck. Tolliver landed and transformed, throwing up off to the side. Even after the bugbear fell to the ground, its feet kept twitching until the last bit of life drained from it body.

  A huge rush of weft accompanied the kill, eliciting in Raith both amazement at its level and horrible guilt at the way he killed it. They all stood around in silence for a long moment, trying to process what had just happened.

  “Zinny,” Raith finally said.

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “Don’t ever use one of those arrows again unless I tell you, ok?”

  She gave him a crisp salute.

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

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