text: The spell wiped from my mind as I completed it. The shimmering blue circle widened and stabilized, just big enough for me to walk through.
  
  <Just so you know,> Breena sent me. <I still hate this plan and so does everyone else. If this works, you're helping Guineve make every single one of us ice cream. With sprinkles,> she added firmly.
  
  <Everyone of us as just you guys?> I asked. <Or you guys plus the Gaelguard, or you guys plus the entire—>
  
  <No more clarifying!> she sent firmly. <Now go through your stupid portal and don't die!>
  
  I earned that, honestly. I'd have been super mad too if I was her. I took a deep breath, checked to make sure all my spells and gear were still ready, and then stepped through the swirling dark blue disk.
  
  It was like stepping through frigid ice water, even with my environmental spells and my innate resistance to cold. I had just enough time to shiver, and then I was suddenly through the other side.
  
  The first things I saw were shadow and blue fire.
  
  The heatless blue light gave just enough illumination to show me a world of blue ice and snowy marble. Tiles of rock-hard snow flecked with some kind of blue crystal ran under my feet. Long, fluted pillars gilded the walls, decked with more torches of blue fire. Hanging high over my head were chandeliers lit with the same heatless flame, though I could see neither the ceiling nor the chains they hung from.
  
  Between the pillars, lining all about the shadowy room, was the royal court of the Hoarfolk. Here and there massive yeti-men stood armored in plates of ice and carrying large glaives made of similar material. Behind them, some distance away, were small throngs of Hoarfolk nobles much like the ones I had killed earlier, only these looked to be dressed in formal-ball wear, without armor or magic robes.
  
  Apparently they had not been expecting company. White-haired heads turned as I landed on the ground. Some looked at me in curious surprise, while others looked annoyed at the interruption, despite the fact that they were already just standing around in a circle anyway. A quick look to my left answered my question.
  
  I had landed just next to their source of entertainment. Locked inside a giant, clear crystal were several small children of different ages, genders, and races, the youngest being a dark-haired human girl no older than five, and the oldest being a red-haired elven boy no older than ten. They wore clean, but thin rags, and they were all shivering as they looked at me with terrified eyes.
  
  "My, my lords and ladies," the boy said in a shivering tone. "Shall we continue singing?"
  
  There was no way those rags would have been keeping them warm enough to live, I decided. Even with the benefits of the recent Trial, my Ideal of Water, my layers of clothing, and the protection spells I had just cast, it was still noticeably cold. They were probably given some protection from their clear cage, though not enough to make them comfortable. Breena's words about keeping prisoners alive echoed through my mind.
  
  "Your music no longer pleases us," an imperious voice said from the front of the room. "Begone."
  
  The children began shivering more frantically as a flurry of snow and ice obstructed their cage. When the whirling storm cleared they and their cage had vanished along with it.
  
  "Now then," that same imperious voice commanded. "Why don't you state your name and your reason for trespassing upon our court, without observing the proper rules?"
  
  I turned my attention back to the front of the giant court. Moments ago there had been too much shadow to see properly, but now the blue flames flared brighter, letting me see a series of raised steps, with regally dressed Hoarfolk nobles lining each step, each looking older and more dignified than the last. Unlike the previous nobles I had battled, these had fewer human features, most notably eyes and hair of blue fire. The male Hoarfolk actually had wisps of the same fire lining their jaws in different styles of beards. At the penultimate step were two thrones, where a male and female noble sat, wearing sparkling white garments and dark blue crowns set with white gems. It was the male sitting on the throne that had spoken earlier.
  
  Beyond them, though, was a final step with a larger, more elaborate, empty throne.
  
  Alright then, I told myself. Final boss is up ahead. Those two would be my top priority targets.
  
  "He is not answering," the seated woman said. "Is he deaf? Is he mute?"
  
  "He is confused," I answered, delaying for as long as possible. The portal would reactivate in a few moments. I stepped forward, looking as cocky as possible. "I understand the meaning behind your words, but I do not understand why you think I am trespassing here."
  
  "That should be obvious," the prince, or king, or whatever he was spoke. "Guards. Kill him if he displeases me again."
  
  "See, here's the thing," I explained. "It's like this. Say I walk onto property you and your people have owned since the beginning of time. I build a house right on your doorstep. If you go into that house, are you trespassing? Or was I trespassing—or squatting, if you want to get technical in my native language—to begin with?"
  
  "Oh?" the throned lady asked, her lips curling upward and the fire dancing in her pupils. "He has an argument with us, my lord. It seems he is gifted with more reason than the rest of the naked mongrels of this world."
  
  "I'm sure they'd object to your calling them that," I said, taking another step forward. "At any rate, I'm aware that you've constructed this admittedly impressive property only recently, and I don't think the aforementioned locals gave you permission to be here. So actually I've come to inquire about your trespassing, and subsequent squatting on this planet's territory."
  
  "My, he has a tongue on him," the woman said in amusement. "Can we make a perch for him? He can live there and speak nonsense for us whenever we command."
  
  "We are not sure we care for his banter," the sitting male sniffed. He leaned forward and peered at me, his own fiery eyes dancing. "You are armed and armored like one of the local savages, but your mannerisms seem different. Are you one of the Earthborn that has angered Her Glorious Majesty?"
  
  "Full disclosure," I replied. "Yes. Definitely yes. I'm surprised she hasn't taught you to recognize me."
  
  "Your people all look alike," the haughty fey sniffed again. "It is beneath our dignity to pay you much heed. Now provide an answer for why you were so foolish as to insult our White Lady."
  
  I looked up at the empty throne above the royal couple.
  
  "He is confused again," the woman said. "Does he even know where he is? How did you get here, young Earthborn?"
  
  "They let me in at the Three-Arm River," I replied. "They said I needed to speak to you regarding the deal my people supposedly had with yours. They didn't say who to talk to, however."
  
  I walked a few more feet forward.
  
  "That is close enough, ignorant Earthborn," the sitting ruler commanded. "Know that you stand in the Court of Her White Majesty Caill Fuar, one of the High Queens of the Unseelie Court. The two before you that you currently disrespect are her chosen monarchs, King Forgryn the Undying, and his royal consort, Queen Lillothi of the Dark Ice. By mocking our court with your ignorance, arriving unannounced, and displaying your earlier disrespect, we hereby sentence you to death, to be carried out immediately. Guards," he finished with a simple glance.
  
  As the armored Hoaryeti lumbered forward, I finally found what I was looking for. A gem that looked to be of the same nature as the one we had destroyed in the previous palace gleamed in the center of both of the monarch's crowns, as well as on a pendant resting on their chests. It was a guess on my part, but it looked as if the regalia of the nobles themselves powered the magical maintenance of this place.
  
  Which confirmed that I needed to deal with the King and Queen before I could destroy this palace.
  
  One of the Hoaryeti roared and leaped for me.
  
  In response, I finally drew Claimh Solais.
  
  Warm, golden light flared into the room, raising the temperature and blinding every one of my attackers. The lumbering guard stumbled as he lost his vision. I stepped around him and slashed clean through his unarmored leg, the weapon blazing as it cut through the beast. The monster let out a hoarse scream as he tumbled to the ground, the golden fire still burning away at his body and melting his ice armor.
  
  The power of the weapon shocked me, but it shouldn't have, a voice said from the weapon's handle. This was the blade of evil's bane. Its special purpose was to destroy that which had dared to Descend instead of Rise.
  
  And it was growing impatient, the voice informed me. I should stop being so hesitant with it. I was directly in the enemy's camp, it said, and the time to keep the weapon hidden had passed.
  
  Fortunately, I agreed. Following further advice from the blade, I held it over my shoulder, poured mana and will into it, then swung the short sword around in a complete circle. A blast of golden fire swept out in all directions, whirling toward the heads of the shaggy beasts surrounding me.
  
  They roared in shock, stumbled a few more feet forward, then staggered to a stop as their heads all tumbled to the floor.
  
  Cries of shock sounded from the winter fey court around me.
  
  "That sword!" Forgryn shouted. "Why does he wield the blade of this world? Why does he have the Woadlands' sword?" He raised his voice and began shouting at the other end of the hall. "Alarm! We are under attack!"
  
  Footsteps began thundering from the distant hall behind me. Hoarfolk nobles all around began drawing swords and staves and daggers.
  
  I raised Claimh Solais, but the voice said I would need to wait before I could unleash another powerful blast like that.
  
  "You are the Challenger Earthborn," King Forgryn spat. "The one whose death we had been long assured of. You were the one who had the gall to threaten our White Majesty herself. You were a fool to deliver yourself alone to our very court."
  
  "Actually I didn't," I answered, looking at the snow-colored tiles beneath my feet. My Path battlelink was still technically active, though I was too far to be able communicate with the Woadlands army back at the Three-Arm River. But my sense of enemy forces still remained. There were at least several scores of nobles in this room, for instance, although most of the royal guard were now dead. There was a faint sense of oncoming forces behind me, two at a time, out of the same portal I had just exited.
  
  And just beneath me, were hundreds, if not thousands, of weakened, vulnerable allied forces currently unable to move or act.
  
  And that was the final piece of information I needed to pull off the most important part of my plan.
  
  I took a few steps back to stand roughly in the center of the room. One of the lesser nobles hurled a blue and heatless fireball at me. An arrow in golden fire pierced it and shredded it to nothingness. Something landed gracefully next to me.
  
  "Taking yer time, are ye?" Merada asked sarcastically, as I heard Breena flutter around her shoulder to blast her fairy darts out of the Boomstick. "Is there a reason ye haven't pulled off yer magic trick?"
  
  "Just managing the audience," I said with a grin, and plunged Claimh Solais into the snow-stone floor.
  
  "The Lord of Avalon hereby honors his commitment to the people of the Woadlands!" I shouted. "In this time of Tumult, I now open the doors of my Shelter! People of the Woadlands, give me your frightened, your tired, your poor! Give me your sick, your lost, your orphans! Give me your lost, your cursed, your damned! Avalon hereby opens its doors to those doomed to die! Let their lives be won back!"
  
  "Acknowledged," a familiar voice spoke all around me. Hoarfolk heads swiveled about with widened eyes as gray mist slowly flooded into the room. "Activating Phase Two of In Case Of Trouble Protocol. Stand by."
  
  The ground and walls began to shake.
  
  "Wait," Merada said. "What are ye doing? I thought ye said ye could summon help directly from Avalon."
  
  "Yeah," I grunted, holding Breaker's hilt steady as I kept the weapon plunged into the hard ground. "Still true. Gotta concentrate though."
  
  "What do you mean you have to concentrate, Wes?" Breena demanded as she fired off more magic to keep our enemies at bay. "Because I don't remember the word 'earthquake' coming up in your description of 'Phase 3' of your master plan!"
  
  "Will talk in a minute," I grunted, maintaining concentration. "Almost… got it!"
  
  A blast of cold whistled by my head, deflected by a short figure with a shield.
  
  "You're doing it wrong," Eadric grunted, coming up from where he had just landed. "That thing's not supposed to go in the ground."
  
  I looked behind me to see Karim and Weylin add their fire to Breena's own. Merada had drawn her spear and was now fending off the fey nobles' blades. "I'm going to help her out," Eadric grunted. "Don't play with your sword any longer than you need to."
  
  I ignored him, rose to my feet, summoned Toirneach and hurled the axe into an unprepared Hoarfolk face.
  
  "Everybody step about five feet to the right," I said offhandedly as I kept walking forward, catching the axe as it returned to me. Back at the very center of the rumbling floor, the ice cracked apart to make room for a wooden structure to slowly rise from it.
  
  The rest of the palace shuddered violently, causing great chunks of ice to fall from all around us. The winter fey began shouting in alarm.
  
  "What did you do?" Breena screamed. "Why is a building poking its way out of another building, Wes?"
  
  The palace continued to shudder from all around us. The wooden structure continued to rise until an entire story poked through the floor, windows clearly visible. Further off into the distance more snowy tiles shattered as long, sharpened poles began to poke their way through the floor.
  
  "The manor?" Breena screamed as she launched a series of small lightning bolts into the disoriented and confused Hoarfolk. "You brought your freaking house here? Why? How? I can't even—"
  
  "Transportation successful," Avalon boomed as mist began to pour through the top window of my manor. "Endangered inhabitants secured."
  
  My battlelink confirmed that very fact. The endangered allies I had sensed earlier were now all safely within my manor, which had apparently grown since then, or at the very least inside the outer walls of my fief.
  
  "Sorry," I said out loud. "Wasn't entirely sure it would turn out like this."
  
  Also, I flat out didn't know how to explain 'hey guys, I can summon houses now.'
  
  <Correction,> Avalon said into my mind. <The Lord Challenger can only summon the Shelter to worlds he has already established a significant degree of influence in.>
  
  <Thanks, Avalon,> I sent back sarcastically, turning my attention to the battle at hand. A large number of goblins, yeti, and lesser nobles had come charging in from another part of the palace. Before I could engage them, though, they screamed and disappeared as white fire blasted up from all around them.
  
  "Good morning, dear Wes," Guineve said as she gracefully stepped out of the second-story window and floated around the rest of the cracks in the ice. "Good morning, Little Bree. And hello Merada, it's been too long. How are you all this day?"
  
  "Guineve?" Breena shrieked in surprise. "You left Avalon? How did you manage to leave Avalon?" The pink sprite shot Merada a helpless, panicky look, who just shrugged and looked at me.
  
  "I didn't, little Bree," Guineve answered as she sent another burst of power into a pocket of fey nobles, scattering them through the air. "This land now counts as Avalon, for as long as the Shelter remains here. I can bring my full power into play, as long as I stay near Wes' Manor." She looked off into the distance. "I suspect I will need to use all of it."
  
  More of the massive ice palace cracked apart. It was beginning to look like its destruction was already guaranteed. But then I heard a thundering, banshee-like scream tear through the air outside the broken walls.
  
  "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Caill Fuar's voice echoed throughout the chamber. I looked to a new hole high up in the wall and saw a large mass of thundering clouds rolling toward us. "I WILL END YOU! I WILL FREEZE THE SOULS INSIDE YOUR BODIES AND SHATTER THEM TO PIECES!"
  
  Meh. I'd heard worse threats.
  
  "This one is stronger than Raw-Maw, dear," Guineve said as she stepped closer to the opening in the wall. "I'm back to my full strength, so why don't you let me deal with her while you and the others end the rest of the Tumult?"
  
  "Alright," I said uncomfortably. "If you're sure you can handle her…"
  
  "Mmmhmm," Guineve replied, and I recalled Stell when Stell said Guineve could match most Icons even on a very bad day. Right now she didn't seem like she was having one of her bad days. "Just leave her to me, dear Wes. I've missed being able to do this."
  
  "Got it," I answered, turning to my team of people. Right then Val appeared out of the portal next, landing with her blades drawn. "We're hitting the pompous idiots on the steps. Let's move."
  
  Blue fire suddenly burst in front of the steps as armored Hoarfolk knights teleported in from somewhere else, apparently in response to their Icon's rage. There were at least thirty of them.
  
  But before I could decide to worry about them, more of my own warriors began leaping out of the second-story windows, led by a familiar, armored skeleton.
  
  "In formation," Virtus' deep voice shouted. "Just like we practiced."
  
  The warriors, clad in bronze plate and Woadfolk mail, formed up into a wide wedge.
  
  <We'll clear the way,> Virtus sent to me. <Try to take down their leaders so we can end this early.>
  
  I needed no more encouragement. I conveyed my intent through the mindlink and my team rushed forward, an army of former refugees behind us.
  
  More and more Hoarfolk knights appeared in front of us. I got the impression that Fuar was summoning them from all over her territory. By now there were almost fifty, and I began to worry as they spread out to intercept us. My friends and I slowed, spreading out to try and make sure one of us could somehow get through this army. Even though they were reinforced by the leftover Gaelguard, I didn't want to risk over half of my population against the elite enemies of the Woadlands' Tumult. But if I could take out their leaders fast enough…
  
  Virtus barked out another command, and the militia of Avalon raced through the gaps in our own charge. Just before they impacted against the elite Hoarfolk knights, Virtus barked another command and they began to glow with Woad tattoos.
  
  Every. Single. One of them.
  
  In the time I had been gone, taking advantage of the accelerated time on Avalon, Virtus had trained my militia to each bond with a respective Woadfather from my new grove. It should have been impossible, because a warrior already needed to undergo a certain number of Rises before their bodies could handle a tattoo.
  
  Then I remembered that overcoming Challenges is how people became stronger in the Expanse. And my people had already survived imprisonment, torture, slavery, and damage from being in a Horde Pit.
  
  While I had been busy worrying about them, they had been busy becoming far stronger than I would have ever thought possible.
  
  So now over a hundred newly promoted Gaelguard were slamming into less than fifty Hoarfolk knights, led by a deathless soldier that had probably seen more battles than I had hairs on my head.
  
  Virtus barked one more command just as the two groups clashed, and the final row of his people stopped running forward, raised their hands, and began firing all sorts of spells into the Hoarfolk mages standing behind the knights. As I ran by them I looked closer, and realized that they were some of the newly resurrected Avalonians. One that could have been Talitha even winked at me as we ran by.
  
  My team turned to strike at one of the weakened edges of the Hoarfolk knights. I wielded Toirneach in one hand and Claimh Solais in the other, and the powerful weapons crunched through the winterfey's armor like a pick did through ice. I had smashed my way through them before I even realized it, killing a small cluster of mages on my last step out. Then my team and I were charging up the steps. Several of the nobles raised their hands to cast spells, only to shriek in rage as Merada's and Weylin's arrows pierced their hands.
  
  King Forgryn and Queen Lillothi stood from their thrones, gracefully stepping down the steps to meet us. Lillothi had drawn a white and blue-tipped wand from her waist while Forgryn was holding a sword with an icy-blue blade.
  
  "You still will not win, Brytenwalda," the male monarch called out imperiously. "Her White Majesty has taken the field, and will crush you all in a matter of moments."
  
  "Yeah, we'll see how that goes," I replied, unconcerned, as I heard the familiar sound of Guineve's fiery blasts behind me. From outside, a scream of surprise and rage tore through the air.
  
  "THE STEWARD OF AVALON? THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE! YOU CANNOT LEAVE YOUR WORLD! YOU ARE BOUND TO AVALON ITSELF!"
  
  "One shouldn't make so many assumptions, Madame Icon," Guineve admonished calmly, but somehow with a voice that carried all the way over to us. "They lead to all manner of accidents."
  
  "YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO BE HERE!" the White Witch shouted from the sky, and hurricane-force winds roared through the broken wall's opening. Guineve just hummed contently and canceled the furious wind with a blast of her own magic.
  
  "Impossible," Lillothi breathed as she saw the Guardian of Avalon match strength with the Dark Icon of her race. "This is all impossible!"
  
  "Pfft," Breena blew a raspberry. "For being around Wes? This is just a normal Tuesday. Wait." She cocked her head. "Is it Tuesday? And if so would it be Tuesday here, or on Avalon?"
  
  "Avalon." Forgryn's flaming eyes narrowed as they locked onto me. "He was the one who summoned the world of the Steward to here." He turned his head to his consort. "We must isolate and destroy him, or our defeat is guaranteed."
  
  "It will be done," Lillothi replied, pointing her wand at me. "But do not fail to kill him, or our White Majesty will never forgive our king."
  
  The monarch scoffed, and as he dashed toward me walls of white crystal suddenly burst from the floor, forcing me to jump away from my team and engage the Hoarfolk king.
  
  The next breath I took, he was right before me, slashing with his long, slender blade.
  
  I jumped and somersaulted over him, but his double-edged sword still caught me in the leg, tearing through the script shielding, Stoneskin spell, and even the hem of my Icon-crafted aketon. I landed with a wince about a dozen yards away and threw Toirneach at him.
  
  The winter fey king knocked my axe contemptuously out of the air with a sweep of his blue blade. The axe thunked into the enchanted crystal and did not immediately return to my hand.
  
  "Script magic?" the winter king sniffed as he cleared the distance between the two of us in a single step, his sword flashing all over me like a rain of icicles. "Ideal magic?" he asked as I parried his first two blows, giving ground. "Swordplay, and axe play?" His weapon scoured a line on my bicep, cutting through the mail and barely piercing my padding underneath. "And even a bit of Blood magic, judging by the portal you created here." He knocked my sword out of position and drove two quick jabs into my lower torso. "How do you expect to live long enough to excel at any single thing, when you spend your scant number of years trying to learn everything at once?"
  
  I leaped out of his weapon's reach, adjusted my momentum, summoned my shield, and charged back toward him with my barrier in the way.
  
  "An amateur of all sorts of weapons and magic," Forgryn continued scoffing as he leaped over my head, narrowly missing my neck as he slashed along my left shoulder. "Fighting against an opponent with untold centuries of practice with his favored weapon." He landed behind me, and I barely turned to get my shield in the way before he ran me through. He launched another flurry of attacks, and when I brought my shield up high to take them, he swept his foot up and into my stomach, knocking the air out of my body with the force of his deceptively strong attack. Then he stabbed his blue blade straight into my chest.
  
  I felt my entire body grow cold as the flame-eyed king sneered into my face and twisted his long blade. The air crackled around the weapon as an icicle suddenly launched out of it, launching me across our improvised arena and into the farthest wall as the missile currently impaling me lodged itself into the crystal wall. I dropped my shield and began to futilely pull myself clear of the bloody trap.
  
  "Tell me, Brytenwalda," the asininely acrobatic fey said as he cleared the long distance between us in just a handful of steps. "Tell me why you squandered such a powerful body and such powerful equipment." He slashed at my sword arm in an attempt to make me drop my weapon. It hurt, but I didn't let go. "Tell me why you squandered all of that to be just good enough to fail when you needed to win the most. Tell me how you qualify as the Lord of Avalon, or the Challenger of Avalon, or even the Brytenwalda of the Woadlands, when right now you are failing at all three?" He pointed his blue sword right at my face, and white frost began whirling around it. Apparently he felt like he had time to hear my last words. Somehow.
  
  "Qualify as man," I grunted painfully, still struggling with the icicle stuck in my chest. "Not a bug…"
  
  He cocked his head at that, curious.
  
  "Explain," he commanded, and so I called upon the words of the late, great Heinlein to do just that.
  
  "A human being should be able to change a diaper," I began, pulling myself inch by inch off the frozen spike, "plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building—" I coughed, but I was halfway off the spike—"write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying." My head was hanging low and I was panting, but I was almost free. King Forgryn seemed mesmerized by my speech, still not acting yet. "Take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal," I gasped, finally pulling myself free and collapsing to my knees, unable to raise my head, but still speaking. "Fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects."
  
  I finally raised my head and gave him a bloody grin. "Now shut up and go splat, you overgrown roach."
  
  I finished speaking, surged to my feet and activated my Battleform.