Fleur spent anht p over he Divine Library ened in 101 PGW, verted from another building. How could it end like that? How could the best schors simply leave it at “One of the pre-existing buildings was used to serve as Olympiada’s unofficial library?” What was that! She stood up a off to the historical department. Someone had to know! If not, she’d find the fug maps herself!

  “Here!” Fer stopped. “Hold here. You! Traius!” She picked out one of the minotaurs, a huge hulking fellow, his two horns a mighty on his head. “Take half the darkfurs, half the warherd, the women and children, push further west. Do not stop at anything! Uood?!”

  “And when we make it to Karaina?” Traius asked.

  “Then push further.”

  “It’s Paerritory.”

  “Their hunters are easier to deal with than this!” She pushed him away. “Go! NOW!” He took a step back, ined his head and turned.

  “Yes Pack master.” Each of his steps cracked the frozen dirt a small dust clouds into the air. The pinewoods around creaked as the rest of the herd started to catch up.

  “What about us?” Lrowled, a wolfman, not a werewolf. His grey fur gave way to a bare chest rough pieces of leather. A short-sword was always in his hands, a small buckler always bounced off his hip.

  “A mile south.” Fer turned and pointed. “There’s a dwarf-hold, abandoned, we will make a stand there.”

  “In ruins?” One of the lesser satyr asked.

  “In ruins.” Fer’s growl cowed whatever sort of attempt at argument they were going to make. “We them close.”

  “Aye!” Yorik added, another minotaur, a bowman. His quiver had ruy a few days ago. No grandmaster from the sects had been felled yet. They moved as a group, they protected themselves like a horde of shrieking sparrows.

  “We’ll be trapped. Snd is better.” Another satyr barked up.

  “That hold is ected to the highway.” A road that spahe entire underground empire of the dwarves, a road long ruined, haunted and unusable. “TRUST ME! I’VE HUHERE BEFORE!” Fer roared at them, she did not try to hide any of her bloodlust, the beastman who spoke up would be torn in two, no matter if he was half-rabbit or half-dragon! The herd remained silent. “MOVE!”

  Fleur stared at a series of maps of Old Arcadia. What the fuck was this? She was mad at their stupidity at first but then that aarted to fade. Impossible. Not possible. One map, mistake. Two, idiocy. Twenty? It was a deliberate effort.

  Everything was belled perfectively, everything had a history. Everything apart from the Divine Library. Opened in 101 PGW from a building. On every map, that building was simply belled “structure”.

  Fer watched as her darkfurs’ viarted to around the floor. Thick green veins that would sh and whip and poison and choke and grab at enemies. Her herd started to filter deeper into the structure, their fur melted into the darkness, the only sign they was floating red eyes. “Yorik, the storerooms are on the right, third corridor. See if there’s any o behind.”

  “Yes Pack Master.” He ran off immediately, colleg a few lesser satyrs with him as he went.

  “Logar! Sixth floor up. Ammunition room. Check it out!” Fer ordered, the wolfman saluted and ran off.

  “Pack master.” One of the dark furs walked to Fer, his goat’s head bowed. A monstrous figure, his chest covered in scars, his jaw exploding with crooked teeth. One of his horns was snapped and a scar ran across his chest. “I do not question, but how?”

  “How WHAT?!” Fer roared, she towered over the fellow, two of him would barely reach her.

  “How do you know this?” He took a step back.

  “I’m older than you. That’s how!” Fer poio the moat. “Fill that up with spores. I do not care what you use, poison the earth forever if you want!” He urned and got to work. Red mists started to seep from his hands and mouth aer the ground.

  “Kalkos!” Fer shouted. One of the oldest darkfurs in the pack ran up to her. A grizzled veteran of a dozen hunts. One of the feere allowed to use a staff in assistao their magic. It was topped off with red heartstone.

  “Yes Pack Master!” He saluted like they did back when Arascus was around. Fer always smiled at that, she quickly wiped that smile away, turned and pointed.

  “That corridor, left, staircase. Basement level, six floors down is the magi’s quarters. There’ll be a heartstone ball-should be. Bring it here. It feels like this!” She pced her palm oman’s furry chest before he could read poured some of her own magito him. His eyes bulged, stumbled backwards and looked as if he was about to be sick.

  “Un-uood!” He took a crooked steps before finally rec and turning that walk into a sprint.

  “PACK MASTER!” A minotaur shouted from a hole in the ceiling. “LOOK!” He waved a dwarf-bronze bde. Strohan steel, heavier too. Although that was only a problem for men, not beasts.

  “It’s yours! Take what you carry! Arm yourselves! PREPARE FOR BATTLE! THE PACK STANDS!”

  Mikhail proudly stared at the Kira car factory. His Kira car factory. Engine pipes became rifle barrel. Wood furnishings became stocks. Mirrors and gssworks became scopes. The first day, two rifles had been built. Today, ten. Tomorrow, a hundred. An army could be outfitted in a month.

  “PACK MASTER!” Logar shouted from behind one of the balustrades on the upper levels. It creaked and parts of stone fell down as he put more weight on it. “There’s javelins! Arrows too!”

  “Bronze or wood?”

  “ALL BRONZE!” Good. Dwarf-bronze had an easier time peing magic.

  “BRING THE JAVELINS TO THE ROOF! SEPARATE THE ARROWS AMONG THE BOWMEN!” Fer shouted up.

  “YES PACK MASTER!” He howled with excitement, that brought on more howls from the wolfmen in the pack. Thehers started r. Fer didn’t shut them up. She wanted noise and she wao keep morale up. Her heart started to sprint like a leopard as that smile returned, it had carved itself onto her mouth. Bloodlust hung in the air like an overp inse.

  Fer was still direg her war-herd when Kalkos returned. In two mere hours, they had transformed the outer walls. Vines climbed over the stone like a cer, they plunged into every crack, split it to y their poisonous seeds. The corridors had been widehe balustrades were removed. The floor was made uneven and covered in rubble. The beastmen were running exercises, jumping down through the holes in the ceilings and nding without breaking their legs. Those who could do it were assigo be ceiling ambushers, those who couldn’t were put on corridor duty.

  Dwarven onry was repurposed. The short-swords could be little more than daggers but the great-pikes made for excellent spears. One minotaur even found a turion’s ceremonial axe, heavy enough even for him tle with the wait. Fer turo Kalkos when he finally got within earshot of her. His bck fur was covered in vomit and he was hauling the red heartstone in his bare hands. “Good.” Fer took it from him. “Take a rest and recover.” He urned around and colpsed onto the floor. “TAKE HIM AWAY! HE NEEDS REST!” Fer shouted and turned away.

  Her fingers felt the fury of the red crystal. Anassa’s work, the sorceress had made them herself. She took a deep breath. Mages could do this sort of thing effortlessly, modern teology made it even easier but back then, this was the pinnacle of logistical prowess: A message crystal. Accessible only to Divines and as easy to intercept as it was to snatch a sweet from a child, but both of those were small prices to pay for instant unication.

  Fer held the crystal close to her lips, powered it with magid whispered into it: “Anassa, dear sister. I need help. I am at the site where Siranius pledged allegiao you.”

  Anassa blinked as she felt a warm sensation. Fer? She always liked the beastgirl. It was hard not to. She was silly and stupid, but loyal. Loyalty could be buried for a thousand years but it was a treasure that never lost its value.

  Fer felt the warm whisper in her head. Destroy that crystal, it be tracked easily. I ot yself but I will send you four students. One of them you’ll like. She crushed the crystal without a moment’s care. If Anassa said to do it, then Anassa said to do it. Her sisters did not lie.

  Fleur poured over a history book: The Lost Divines. In 25PGW, Anassa was imprisoned. She stared at the map of Arcadia dated to 23PGW, it was faded, the ink was slowly fighting a war to disappear from the paper, but it was enough. That ‘structure’ was not there. She turo the map dated 28PGW. The building simply belled as ‘structure’ ed.

  Fleur leaned bad blihe maths did add up. And this… wind circled around her fingers… this was sorcery in its purest form.

  But that was impossible… wasn’t it? That woman… she couldn’t be… but the maths did add up…

  Fer watched from atop the nameless dwarven hold. Beastmen stantly faded and reappeared from the shadows. The moat had grown fat with an overflowing poisonous mist. They had even lit a fire. Vines crawled half the mountain behind, carving a goat’s head into the exterior. The inal crest of the first herd; as it was back then, so it will do now. Fighting under a banner was refreshing.

  The stars had e out. How long would they o wait? The wait was always the worst part before a hunt. Fer sat down, cross-legged and leaned against the toppled pilr. Her thick bck mane served as a b and a cushion as the cool wind started to sweep in. A week and she would meet her siblings in the life. Until then, she would make sure that the sects of Guguo would never fet her name.

  Essa appeared before her sister. “I sensed one of those unication crystals you made back then.”

  “It was Fer.” Anassa replied coldly.

  “Was it?”

  “She asked for help from the Hunt.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I gave my goodbyes.”