text: She led us through the thick woods, following the broken trail the Hordebeasts had left in their wake. After a moment, she gave me a small nod to indicate it was safe to talk, and then she began speaking.
  
  "The good news is that they're numerous enough to track easily," Merada said as I marched next to her. "The bad news is, well, they're numerous enough to track easily. Means they're a lot harder to stop now." She gave a small sigh as we walked swiftly over the trampled foliage.
  
  "Sorry to hear," I answered, and meant it. "I've hated every interaction I've had with these things."
  
  "Oh aye," the Woad Princess nodded. "I remember. What you did before should've taken care of them for good. But we've had Pits pop up on their own every decade or so. None of us know why."
  
  "The Malus warlocks can make them," I answered grimly. "I'm not sure how they learned."
  
  "Oh aye, we know," Merada answered. "But the Pits have formed even without them. We can't account for why."
  
  "That's super disturbing," I answered, because it was. Merada nodded in response, and we spent the next couple of minutes silently scanning our surroundings.
  
  "Hey," I asked awkwardly, after looking behind us to make sure we were out of earshot. "Breena checked on me earlier, but nobody checked to make sure you were okay. I figured I'd ask when we were alone. I uh, didn't hurt you earlier, did I?"
  
  She looked at my face for a moment, brown eyes sparkling and grinning even wider than she had before.
  
  "Oh, I'm fine. Not nearly as sore as ye could've made me. Ye were a perfect gentleman."
  
  I sputtered, because even I couldn't miss a double entendre that obvious.
  
  "Apologies, Challenger," she said, giggling at my reaction. "I'm genuinely touched by yer concern, and I'm really happy to see ye again."
  
  <I like her,> Teeth spoke up again. <She's a lot of fun. I don't care if you're tired of hearing about it. Is she part of this Stell? Because if she is, I think I'm really going to like Stell.>
  
  "It's good to see you too, Merada," I admitted, not arguing with my inner dragon for once. "I'm glad to find out you're alright. You're a lot of fun, when you're not trying to kill me."
  
  "Why thank ye," she said with another smile. "That'll be the last of that, by the way. Promise."
  
  I thanked her in return, and then we went back to paying attention to our surroundings, like we should have done instead of sputtering and laughing at each other.
  
  "My scouts just sent me a message," the leather-clad woman said suddenly. "The path up ahead is clear all the way to just outside the Pit's entrance. One of them is coming to offer a report in person. Figured ye should be here," she finished with a mysterious smile.
  
  I nodded, curious but realizing I'd find out what was going on soon enough. The next moment a small pink light zipped over to us, flapping gossamer wings.
  
  "Breena?" I asked in surprise as the flight flew closer, but the fairy's figure was wrong. Her hair was also pink, but it was braided backwards in a ponytail, and while she didn't look any younger than Breena, she felt less experienced. Her movements seemed less confident than Breena's, as if she had less practice with them. She also seemed less energetic than my companion, but that wasn't a fair comparison because everyone seemed less energetic than Breena. Still though, I felt like I should know her.
  
  Apparently she felt the same way, because she stopped right in front of me.
  
  "You," she said in a hushed voice. "You're back." Her lips quivered for a moment. "They said you were gone for good. That you either left us or died."
  
  "I know you," I said slowly. "But I don't remember your name."
  
  "I know you don't," the little fairy said softly. "You jumped into a nightmare for me fifty years ago. Then you pulled me right out of it, when it should have been too late to help me. You saved my dignity and sanity, and now all the Horde hunt you for it. Traitor-prince," she said in a whisper. "The other races don't know, but the fair folk always understand every spoken tongue. You rejected a legacy, and worship. Because you decided I wasn't too small to save."
  
  *Click.*
  
  I remembered her now. The fairy I had saved from the first Horde Pit.
  
  "You're… Petal…" I tried to remember the second part of her name and failed, but she teared up and smiled at what little I could remember.
  
  "Petal-bell," she said happily. "I never even told you. And you still remember that much."
  
  I turned to look at Merada. "Is she our scout?"
  
  "Aye," the beautiful amazon said with a smile, and little Petal-bell began bobbing furiously.
  
  "That's right!" the little sprite shouted, eyes still shining fiercely with unshed tears. "I'm a warrior now!"
  
  As I looked at her, I realized that her tiny fairy dress sparkled like mail, and that a tiny, thin rod was sticking out of her belt, clearly some kind of weapon.
  
  "I learned I could be one, too!" she said proudly. "Like you and Aunt Breena!"
  
  Breena was apparently every fairy's aunt, at least in the Woadlands. <Speaking of which>, I thought with a grimace.
  
  "Why don't ye give a status report," Merada asked calmly, "before yer Auntie finds out yer here and tackles ye?"
  
  "Yes!" Petal-bell said as she straightened up in mid-air. "Yes! Right! We're clear of Horde all the way to the entrance! There are two Miscreants out on lookout! No movement except three hours ago." She turned to look at me. "Around then, they began shouting their chant about the traitor-prince. I guess we know why now. No further news, Woad Princess!"
  
  "Excellent work, lass." Merada smiled. "Return to yer post and wait further orders. If ye find out anything else, just tell me through whisper magic. After we've cleaned up around here, there'll be time for ye and yer aunt to catch up."
  
  "We're striking today?" Petal asked, blinking rapidly. "I mean of course we are!" she said, shooting a glance at me. "I'll pass on your orders, Princess!"
  
  And just like that, the little sprite flew off.
  
  "Darling lass," Merada said regretfully. "Can only hope she stays safe." She looked back at me, her smug composure all gone. "This Pit has been here for a while. It's…" She swallowed. "Been fed. A lot. Can you still…"
  
  Her question trailed off, and I knew what she wanted to ask. Being placed into a Horde Pit was one of the most damaging things that could be done to a person's body, mind, and soul, and it was irreversible, because anyone who tried to pull a victim out of a Pit either failed or fell in themselves, no matter how strong their muscles or magic was. The only exception was when a Hordebeast chose to pull out a person, but that was always done only temporarily, and the damage was supposedly still permanent.
  
  I had known none of that, though, when I jumped into one and pulled out Petal-bell. Merada was clearly hoping for another miracle.
  
  I'd try my hardest to give her one.
  
  "There were three Horde Pits back on Avalon," I answered her. "They were each old enough to produce a Spawn, and they had been fed with the male captives from the Malus raids. I don't know how long the people had been inside, but a handful of them had been reduced to a semi-corporeal state, and over a hundred had turned into these tiny balls, with no way to tell that they were still alive."
  
  Merada's breath quickened.
  
  "So far, they've all regained their bodies and can recognize their family members. Beyond that, I have no idea if they can make a full recovery, but Guineve and the other healers are doing all they can for them. At least half of them are performing some kind of work on Avalon."
  
  "Yer tellin me the truth?" Merada asked, biting her lip.
  
  "As far as I know it." I nodded confidently. "Let me deal with the Pit, before you let anyone else try to destroy it."
  
  "Whatever ye need," she whispered, fiercely. "Save me people again, and I'll grant any request ye wish. I mean it."
  
  "You do know that was already my job, right?" I clarified, feeling inexplicably guilty at her offer.
  
  <How about you shut up this time?> Teeth hissed.
  
  But she seemed to like my answer, because she was already grinning again. This time her smile was absolutely mesmerizing.
  
  "Oh, aye, I know what kind of man the real Wes Malcolm is, even if I didn't know the looks of him," she said in a low voice. "But maybe he needs a reason to find out what I want, eh?"
  
  <Nevermind!> Teeth hissed. <Keep talking! Keep talking!>
  
  "Maybe I do," I said without thinking, surprising myself by flirting back. She was so happy to see me, it was hard not to get swept up in it. It also was a bit of a whiplash after the fight we just had. But now that I thought about it, she seemed like she had been kind of flirty when she was trying to kill me too.
  
  <Stop reading into it,> I told myself, then I cleared my throat. "Anyway, let's talk strategy. None of the Horde Pits were underground on Avalon, so I'm a bit out of my depth here. What can you tell me about this one?"
  
  Merada frowned.
  
  "It's probably the oldest still around," she answered, still grimacing. "We've never been able to get much further than this. Anyone who goes in hasn't come out."
  
  "Really?" I asked, surprised. "From what I've seen, they don't have a force strong enough to handle a determined assault from your people."
  
  "Aye, they don't," the wild brunette agreed. "But what with all the other Trials and Pits and evil Earthborn all bothering about, we hadn't had time to launch a determined assault on anything. We've all been trying to put out a dozen fires at once. And now they've grown to this size, where they can overwhelm a nearby village without even trying."
  
  "But they're one army short, now that my people showed up," I noted, as we crept a little closer to the entrance, trying to strategize.
  
  "Aye, and thank ye for that," Merada muttered. "Won't be true tomorrow, though. By then they'll have one army extra."
  
  "So we take care of it today," I answered firmly, trying to think.
  
  Early Horde Pits aren't exactly difficult to wipe out. I handled my first one alone, with only one Rise to my name, armed with nothing but a cracked club, beginner-level magic, and Breena for backup. If Merada was right though, then this Horde Pit grew so fast not by secrecy or raiding, but by luring people in and turning them into prey. It was a giant trap. Or a typical dungeon crawl from one of my sister's games.
  
  "How are your people at finding traps?" I asked after another moment.
  
  "In a forest? Fantastic," Merada said, nodding in comprehension. "Finding them in stonework or old ruins? Not so much. What of yer people?"
  
  "We've sort of been building a resume for them," I replied with a wince, clutching my hand and remembering the archaeological death survey that the Shelter had been at first. "Let my team take the lead after we deal with the guard."
  
  "Can ye get them without being seen?" Merada asked. "If they raise an alarm right at the start it will be trouble."
  
  "I'd have to see things for myself," I hedged. "But I plan on keeping as many of us invisible, for as long as possible. That reminds me," I said before I could forget again. "Battle with me, sister."
  
  I wasn't expecting it to work. It hadn't worked with any of the Gaelguard, or with Guineve. In fact, it hadn't worked with anyone for a while, except for Val. But Merada's eyes snapped wide open with awareness, and I felt the link form with her, giving me a permanent sense of her combat presence, and several aspects of her personality…
  
  She was an expert with the spear and the bow. Far better than I was with either weapon.
  
  She was fit, flexible, and healthy. Not as strong as I was, but a hair faster and just as tough.
  
  She was powerful for her age, but much younger than any other of Stell's Satellites. It was a bit of a sore spot for her.
  
  She loved being outdoors.
  
  She loved being playful, something all of Stell's Satellites had in common so far, though each in a different way.
  
  And finally, I felt a warm affection come through the mindlink at me, like Breena gave, only more… reckless.
  
  "Hmm," she said, soundly pleased. "So that's what I'm working with. Well then, ready, mister Big Strong Challenger?"
  
  I nodded, giving her a cocky grin of my own.
  
  Nothing more was said after that. We crept the rest of the way forward without incident, the fairies using their magic to whisper silent messages to Merada, and her using the mindlink to relay those messages to me. The fairies directed us to a concealed spot where we could watch the entrance to the Horde cave without being easily spotted ourselves. The entrance was just as Petal described, a massive cavern at the edge of the forest big enough for large groups of human-sized creatures to easily exit. Despite that, the wide entrance was only guarded by two Miscreants, mid-level Horde that worked best in larger groups. A single Woadfolk with only a handful of Rises could fight his or her way past them in under a minute, and a small sprite could probably sneak right past them. That confirmed it for me. This whole setup was a lure for small, brave groups of Woadfolk to investigate and be trapped by.
  
  And it had probably worked over, and over, and over again. That just meant it was my job to get those people out.
  
  Petal and the other sprite-folk had quietly welcomed Breena into their team, and we finalized our plan. My team of mindlinked people would lead the way, with the Gaelguard right behind us and the elven warriors from the village taking up the rear. The fairies would spread out between the rest of the Gaelguard and elves, providing healing and other support magic, and also helping us rely on silent communication.
  
  Then I drew my white-hilted dagger and scribed the words 'silence,' 'hidden,' and 'stealth' into the air, using the script to reinforce the shroud. At the same time, Karim, the dozen or so fairies, and even Val acted to cast their own veiling magic, enhancing the shroud's effect and easing the drain on my mana for covering so many people.
  
  I still wouldn't be able to hold it for long. In fact, I would probably have to drop the shroud in about fifteen to twenty minutes.
  
  But that was more than enough to get in through the front door. It didn't even break when we killed the two Miscreants by covering their mouths, dragging them with us and slowly strangling them. As I suspected, no other Horde was anywhere near our vicinity. Just long tunnels of flickering Horde-oil torches, with oddly worked stone, showing traces of the same oil. Here and there the oil would depict scenes that were likely the Horde performing all kinds of perverted torture to their victims, but unlike the scenes in my fist Horde Pit they seemed incomplete, halted, as if something had interrupted them.
  
  Val and Eadric took point. Eadric because he was familiar with stonework traps, and Val because her magic helped her both stay hidden and notice other hidden things as well. They ran a quiet chatter through the mindlink, with Val pointing out out-of-place objects and Eadric identifying what they were, and how to disarm them. They identified drop-traps in the floor, nearly invisible traps of sticky rope that hung from the ceiling, designed to catch fairies. Our speed picked up when we realized most of the traps were actually triggered by the absence of Horde oil. From that point, we just used the remains of the two dead guards by waving a dripping, severed arm or leg in front of us and striking the ground where we were going to walk.
  
  <I should have realized that sooner,> I thought to Merada and Breena. <They had to have a way to move their raiding parties easily down the halls without disarming every single trap.>
  
  <Not really,> Breena thought back. <This stuff is so gross, most people don't like to think about it at all.>
  
  I decided to accept the excuse for myself. Karim kept checking for magical mechanisms but so far all of the traps depended upon the proper use of Horde secretions. So, yay for gross enemies.
  
  Things got complicated when we came to the first crossway in the tunnels. At this point, most of the Horde traps consisted of making noise, like releasing loud rock falls or making the floor bricks squeak loudly. This was probably the spot where the Horde normally surrounded and overwhelmed the invaders. But they hadn't detected us, and so any tunnel we went down risked opening up our flanks to monsters coming at us from the other tunnels.
  
  Combat felt inevitable, especially since I wouldn't be able to maintain the shroud for much longer. I reminded myself that we weren't a tiny scouting group; we were a force of over twenty elite warriors, with the weakest of us still having over five Risen levels. The best of our imperfect choices was to create a kill-trap of our own.
  
  We scouted a couple dozen yards into the leftmost tunnel, clearing the traps located up to that point. Then we pulled back a good distance inside the tunnel we had just come from and rested a few minutes, so I could regain mana. While I did that, everyone else began creating the magical traps we had used in Avalon so much. Even the Gaelguard were able to work some magic into the ground, and Breena said the fairies were having trouble refraining from giggling in excitement about all the mischief magic they were working all around them. As they did all of that, I looked again at the tunnel walls noticing that these had more of the Horde murals. These looked complete, but the depictions were drastically different than any of the ones I had seen before. Here the figures were more detailed, clearly depicting fairies and women of multiple races, and Horde creatures constantly reaching for them, but never able to touch them. The Horde monsters seemed to be writhing in frustration over their inability to be hideous to them, even weeping in one mural, where little black drops traced downward from a carefully drawn Hordebeast's head. Further along the wall, right where the tunnels forked off, was another mural, this one actually in color somehow. It depicting a tall, upright humanoid, standing in front of a whole host of Horde monsters lying prostrate before him and offering all kinds of gifts and slaves to him. But the human had a dagger in his hand, and was plunging it into the back of a Hordebeast reaching for a long-haired fairy captive. The top of the human's head was red, probably painted in actual blood that was worked into the walls. Written both over and under the painting were words in English, written over and over, sometimes legibly, sometimes in a mad, disorganized scrawl: Kill the traitor-prince.
  
  <Ye know this,> Merada said over the mindlink as she saw me stare at the words. <Ye know this language.>
  
  <It's my own,> I admitted to her. <It's my native tongue, from where I grew up on Earth.>
  
  <What does it say?> Merada asked. <And why do they speak it? Is it the same language as the chant they cry, the one that only the fairies understand?>
  
  I nodded.
  
  <It's a cry for my death. For rejecting a heritage I never knew of, nor wanted. And for a command I gave to them back when they tried to submit to me, that they are still struggling to disobey.>
  
  Merada blinked at that.
  
  <There are legends about Horde performing all sorts of depravities, especially on women. But so far, none of their acts have come anywhere close to the old stories, bad as they are. Are ye saying…> Her thought trailed off.
  
  <All I know is that they blame me for being disgusted with them, and for not making them stronger.>
  
  Raw, grieving gratitude suddenly poured into me from the mindlink. A firm, feminine hand suddenly gripped my shoulder.
  
  <Thank ye, Wes Malcolm,> the Woad Princess said over the mindlink. <Even though ye were gone, ye had still done much to help me people. Me little ones would have had far more, and far worse, nightmares without ye. And I know ye've suffered and been wronged because of it all. Let me speak to ye, when this over, please.>
  
  I nodded to her, projecting gratitude of my own through the mindlink. She was right, we didn't have time for this conversation right now.
  
  The floor and nearby walls were now thoroughly trapped. My team already had a lot of practice with this strategy, and they had all Risen considerably since Avalon. The help from the fairies, elves, and Gaelguard were just overkill.
  
  Petal and another fairy flew down the partially disarmed hall, shouting and panicking and acting as if one of them had just been caught in a trap. Less than a minute later we began to hear hissing down the hallway, and three small, drooling Ilklings came bounding over. Petal immediately whipped out her wand and fired off supercharged versions of the fiery darts I had seen Breena shoot out before, scorching and decapitating all three Hordebeasts with a single shot each.
  
  <Sigh,> Breena whispered to me dramatically. <She already has a battle wand. Good for her, I guess.>
  
  <Are they really good?> I asked her, as Petal and the other fairy went back to screaming for help or telling each other to 'run while I hold them off!'
  
  <They're super-awesome!> Breena exclaimed. <They've helped fairies everywhere defend themselves from predators and perverts! They can enhance all kinds of magic, especially our basic attack magic! But I'm not allowed to have one,> she finished sadly, watching Petal blow up another small batch of Ilklings and Wretches.
  
  Why not? I asked.
  
  <Because my power is always tied to my bonded Challenger, so my power Rises quickly, and then resets to the most basic level. A normal fairy wand just can't handle it.> She was silent for a moment, and I could tell she was thinking. <But I could probably use one, now that I can sort of Rise on my own power. It would be tricky, though, because I have access to so many Ideals, compared to the average fairy. They'd probably have to make me a wand from scratch, and it would be a super-custom job… what are you thinking?> she suddenly asked, picking up on the surge of emotions from me, along with the sudden desire to hide something from her.
  
  <I'm thinking about how cool you would look with a battle wand,> I said quickly. <And I was trying to figure out whether or not they grow with you, especially when you used that new form earlier.>
  
  <Oh. Okay,> Breena said obliviously, as more snarls and cries came from all three tunnels now. <Well, they can totally grow or shrink with their fairy, but since I can grow unusually large for a fairy… for um, reasons…> She coughed suddenly, then cleared her throat. <Then uh, yeah. That would be another reason it would be such a custom job. And hey! I think the real fight's about to start!>
  
  She seemed to be having secrets of her own, but like she said the fight was starting.
  
  Footsteps and roars started hammering their way down all three tunnels. Petal and the other fairy screamed in mock despair as they turned and began to flutter limply back toward us, as if they were wounded, Petal dragging the other fairy as she flapped weakly. The other fairy, for her part, began gasping and begging Petal to 'save herself' and to 'escape and warn everyone else.'
  
  The echoes came louder and louder. I could make out shapes in the dim torchlight, brandishing weapons and nets as they charged toward us. The two fairies finally made it back to our defensive huddle.
  
  "Aunt Breena!" Little Petal whispered to my bonded companion. "How did we do? Did you see us?"
  
  "You were fantastic, Petal," Breena whispered. "Now hush and go to your Gaelguard. The fight's about to start."
  
  Petal beamed and flew next to Breyn. The young Celt locked his shield with the rest of the Gaelguard to form a defensive wall. They all crouched slightly, just enough to where the elven warriors behind them could raise their bows. I draw my spear and axe and waited behind Eadric's shield, Val right next to me in a way that would let her guard my flank and legs. Merada and Weylin drew their own bows and took position with the rest of the elves.
  
  But as the mass of Ilklings and Wretches came barreling down all three halls, we held our fire. We waited until the Horde were about two dozen yards away before we activated the traps, and I heard several fairies let out happy squeals as the light show finally began.
  
  Columns of fire leaped up from the ground, scorching handfuls of Ilklings and Wretches at once. Currents of lightning would snake across the entire width of the hall, making a group of Miscreants jerk and dance like puppets. Ice shards exploded out like the blasts from a fragmentation grenade.
  
  Before I could count to two, a hundred Horde had already died, and still more were being pushed into traps by the oblivious packs behind them.
  
  "Hurray!" Petal shouted as a fireball burst out of one of Karim's script-magic traps.
  
  "It's so pretty!" another fairy shouted as a burning Miscreant screamed and ran backwards, igniting other Horde before he was finally trampled to death.
  
  "It's like the Midsummer fireworks!" a third fairy cried out as another burst sent severed monster limbs hurtling through the air. "Only more pervy monster-proof!"
  
  "Yeah!" Petal cried out again, as a Mongrel finally fell, choking on an icicle sticking out of his throat. "How's that for stranger-danger, ya bunch of boogeyman knockoffs? Fear our new harassment policy!"
  
  "Eyes sharp, people," I cautioned, both pleased and slightly disturbed by the sudden, violent empowerment of the tiny creatures next to me. "No celebrating until they're all dead."
  
  "Right!" one of them said seriously over the screaming and burning. "Then we hold a proper victory party! With lights, and fairy disco!"
  
  "I have a bottle we can spin," a blue-haired fairy said timidly, slowly growing larger as she batted her eyes at a young, muscular Gaelguard.
  
  "Focus," I repeated, trying to head off the conversation before things got really weird. I was already a little frightened to discover just how many traps everyone had managed to pack into this hallway. In fact, I was intentionally looking away from the light show to preserve what was left of my vision. And, also because it was reminding me too much of the Normandy scene in all of those World War II movies. "Don't lose track of your firing lanes. These traps won't last forever."
  
  <I think,> I added privately.
  
  <Ye'll have to excuse them,> Merada sent to me gently. <The sprite-folk have suffered greatly from the Horde and other new predators, and the chance to strike back is liberating for them. I'll help keep them under control.>
  
  <Thanks,> I replied, and turned my attention back to the massacre in front of me. But the traps were finally starting to give out, and the Horde fodder had done their part by dying to it in droves. I could see better-armored Miscreants and Mongrels form organized rows further at the back of each tunnel, each marching in a way that would allow all three groups to hit us as a cohesive fist.
  
  <Prepare to actively attack,> I sent out through the mindlink. <Ammunition and basic spells only. Conserve your mana, and wait until they just begin to link up from the three tunnels before we begin our volley.>
  
  Breena and Merada relayed my order to the fairies, who relayed it to the elves and Gaelguard. Everyone readied whatever missile weapons they had as they waited for the Horde columns to clear the last of the traps and filter into the center of the room.
  
  When they finally did, we let them have it.
  
  Arrows and small magical darts flew down the dimly lit tunnels far more rapidly than I was used to expecting. So far the elves were fully living to the stereotype of being crack archers. The monsters did what they could to crouch behind wooden shields and bunch up in boiled leather armor, but it just wasn't enough. Every third arrow found a vulnerable patch of Horde flesh, and Merada and Weylin's arrows just blew right through their shields and chestplates. By the time the more elite Hordebeasts had gathered together in the center tunnel, over a dozen of them had fallen dead. That still left well over a hundred of the elite troops, included the advanced Mongrels.
  
  Which was also why we had saved our real magic for now.
  
  I started us off with an Earth spell that I used to use all the time, Sinking Earth. At the Journeyman level, the spell caused the Earth to suddenly sink down by over a foot and turn into shifting, sucking mud, like some enhanced combination of quicksand and a whirlpool. The most concentrated packs of Mongrels and Miscreants all held their footing, but the ones at the edges stumbled and fell, including the ones at the front. While they were all bogged down, Karim quickly scripted spell-words for fire, compression, release, and travel, then thrust his finger through the floating words, pointing directly at the collapsed formation of Horde. A blue fireball exploded from his digit and slammed into the densest pack of monsters, detonating in a blinding roar of blue heat.
  
  <Whoa,> I sent to Karim over the mindlink. <Since when have you been able to do that?>
  
  <Since always,> the ebon mage dryly thought back at me. <It's just gotten easier, and faster, since I've begun traveling with you.>
  
  <One of the few perks of the job,> Eadric butted in as he threw a carved figurine into the kill zone, creating a shrapnel-laced explosion of his own. By now the screams were enough to make me wince, and I realized we might have actually pushed too hard with our attack. If this bunch split up and retreated, it would be really problematic. Especially if they thought to use the prisoners as hostages. And judging by the screams of panic, they were close.
  
  <Hold your fire,> I commanded. <Act like you're out of ammunition.>
  
  "We need to retreat!" one of the fairies suddenly shouted. "I'm out of ammo!"
  
  "Me too!" the blue one shouted. "I really hope they don't charge us right now!"
  
  I groaned. There was such a thing as overselling an idea, and right now my fairy companions were worse than those old car commercials.
  
  "I know!" Petal shouted. "I'm completely helpless! I feel so frightened and vulnerable right now!"
  
  <Are you freaking serious…> I thought, wanting to drop my weapons so that I could facepalm properly. But the very next moment, one of the Mongrels at the back bellowed.
  
  "Don't let the prey get away!" the massive thing shouted in rage. "First one down there gets an extra bride-meal!"
  
  His voice started to crack near the end of his last sentence, but he strained through it anyway, and the armored Mongrels came charging down the hallway. These weren't as big as the last one I had fought, but they were close, wearing mail and carrying massive, rune-etched cleavers.
  
  <It worked!> Breena messaged me happily. <My girls are amazing! Also, they really want to open fire, now, Wes. They've asked Merada and me both like five times already.>
  
  "Let them have it," I said with a sigh, hurling Toirneach and working my hand to cast a non-stored Fireball spell.
  
  "Yay!" the blue one shouted. "By the way, sorry I lied about my ammo!"
  
  As one, the little sprites all raised their wands and began to glow. The glow swept down into their slender rods and fired outward, creating a storm of bright bolts that reminded me of fire from automatic weapons. The attacks left scorching marks all over the Mongrels' mail, but they still stumbled through the fire as they advanced, shrugging off more arrows from the elves. Only one or two went down, counting the one Toirneach hit in the forehead.
  
  On impulse, as I finished the last gestures for my spell, I scribed the spell-word 'incendia' with the same hand powering my fireblast and shouted the song-word for speed just as I finished my cast. For a moment, my throat and hand both felt like they were on fire, but the sensation passed and my fireblast went roaring out at twice the speed, detonating into the back-most throng of Mongrels. They screamed as it exploded, and the survivors kept screaming when the fire persisted beyond the normal effect, smoldering with a lingering magic of its own.
  
  <Psst,> Breena sent me. <Alum thinks we should charge right now since they're going to break anyway, and if we don't rush them a lot of them are going to get away.>
  
  <He's right,> I answered, as Toirneach returned to my grasp. <Let's pressure them, but don't break formation or chase them further down the tunnels. I'll take point to obstruct them.> "Forward!" I shouted. With that, I sprinted forward, relying on Air and Fire magic to close the distance on the thrashing Horde survivors. I pushed and knocked my way past the first number of them, striking at their legs as I ran by. My target was the stragglers at the back, the ones least damaged and just now turning to run back. I barrelled into the back of one, slamming Toirneach into his neck, then twisted to hack at the hip of another one about to run away from me. Two more turned to engage me, swinging their cleavers into the panicked mess of bodies, but I rolled past them, ignoring them just long enough to fire five fingerbolts into the final Mongrel about to run out of range. As the electricity surged through his body I hurled Toirneach into his back. The massive tomahawk whistled through the air and landed with an audible *boom*, crunching through the Mongrel's mail and making his legs crumple right under him.
  
  "You!" a harsh voice bellowed behind me. "Traitor-prince!"
  
  I turned just in time to take a cleaver on my shield instead of the back of my head. I staggered under the force of the blow, leaning away just in time to dodge the next swing.
  
  "Kill the traitor-prince!" a second Mongrel bellowed, charging at me, their most hated foe, who had somehow thought it would be a good idea to stand between them and their path of escape.
  
  Now I was the one giving ground, moving backwards and probably closer to one of the still-trapped hallways, with at least three advanced Mongrels determined to cut their way through me.
  
  I decided to do something smart and get a weapon in my hand. I resummoned Carnwennan, activating the shroud to cover myself only. Then I dove for the Mongrel still on the ground, ran Carnwennan across his throat, dismissed the weapon, and yanked my axe out of his back. Armed with my best weapon again, I turned my attention back to the three armored giants hellbent on either killing or getting past me. I tried to figure out which trick would be best for bringing them down, watching them carefully to see if an opening would develop, and then…
  
  <Hold up, mister big strong Challenger,> Merada's voice came through the mindlink. A moment later she had burst clear of the flaming melee to drive her spear through the back of one of the Mongrel's necks, causing the metal blade of the weapon to burst from the creature's mouth. She gave the weapon a twist to make sure the Hordebeast's vital guard was overcome, and then ripped her weapon out of the new corpse. <You were doing so well earlier. How about ye go back to using your brain and fight these things as a team, aye?>
  
  <Right>, I sent back sheepishly. <I was trying to tangle them up for you guys, but… yeah. Good idea.>
  
  The two remaining Horde began circling us cautiously, in opposite directions so that they could flank us. They underestimated the teamwork our mindlink granted us. I feinted another throw with my axe, which one of the Mongrels tried to parry, and then turned to follow Merada as she rushed the other giant apeman. He swept his cleaver at her spear thrust, but her attack had been a feint as well, and she rolled her polearm out of the way and into the monster's hip. As the tusked apeman bellowed in pain I leaped forward and struck at his knee, Toirneach cracking through the mail and into the bone. I had the good sense to yank my weapon free this time, then as the other Mongrel charged us Merada and I leaped out of the way, flanking him from both directions. She swung high at his face, forcing him to parry immediately, while I darted forward and slammed my axe at the back of his knee. As the leg crumpled he swung his weaponless hand back at me, but I batted the blow away with my shield. Merada stabbed deep into the armpit of his weapon arm, taking back all of his attention and vital guard. I swung Toirneach into his belly and felt my Outer Current spell discharge through the weapon, frying his gut, and that was enough to bring him down.
  
  <Nice work,> Merada smirked at me, and I smirked back. Both Hordebeasts had fallen in under a minute, good timing even taking our mindlink into account.
  
  <Thanks,> I thought, grinning back. <But you're right. I fight a lot better next to skilled, beautiful women.>
  
  She rolled her eyes at me, but she kept smirking, so I counted it as a half-win. Then I realized I hadn't even worked out what I was trying to win, so I got myself back on track. <How is everyone else?>
  
  <Rather well, all things considered,> she said, turning her head. I saw our allies rush forward, still in formation, as they slammed into the last of the Mongrels. The Gaelguard had made their usual short work of the maimed and burning Horde, but the elite stragglers at the back gave them their closest challenge, as the Mongrel's advanced bodies were actually on par with the Woad-strengthened Celts. The two groups pressed and strained against each other as the Mongrels shoved against the Gaelguard shield wall. It was the fairies, and then elves, that turned the battle into a rout, with their smaller or thinner bodies darting around the warriors to strike the Horde warriors' limbs. The monsters began to fall, and then they fell faster when Merada and I tore into them from behind. A moment later, we were all panting where we stood, looking around the hundreds of dead Horde bodies while I tried to figure out if I had lost any of my own people.
  
  Val and the Testifiers were fine, although my adopted sister was giving me a dirty look at the moment. My breath caught when I realized that the only wounded Gaelguard was Breyn, heaving and gasping as blood bubbled around the palm he clenched over his chest. Alum and his wife were walking over to him with grim expressions, but a pink light was hovering over the wound, sprinkling dust into it.
  
  "You're okay!" Petal shouted. "I've got it! I've got it!"
  
  Breena flew over next to her.
  
  "Hey Petal. He's got a sucking chest wound, so you're going to need to—oh," she said as she came closer. "You actually do got it. Good job."
  
  "The taunting worked too well," the younger fairy said guiltily. "One of them went straight for me. He tried to leap right over my Gaelguard." She shot Breyn another look as she worked. I looked next to the young warrior and saw a dead Mongrel the same size as the one that had head-butted me outside. "But he stood up and tackled him… here, I've got it," she finished, sprinkling dust over the wound. The blood finally stopped bubbling out of the wound, and Breyn's tattoos glowed, taking over the healing process now that part of the Gaelguard's vital guard was restored.
  
  "Thank you," he panted, looking down, as if he was embarrassed.
  
  "No, thank you!" the little fairy chittered nervously. "That monster could have swallowed me whole."
  
  "It was my job to keep him off of you," Breyn hedged. "You got the killing blow."
  
  "Because you didn't let him pop me into his mouth!" Petal protested. "But don't get up, yet! Give yourself another minute or two. We can do that, right, Woad Princess? Right, Challenger?" She looked up at me and Merada.
  
  "Five minutes," I answered, watching Breyn's tattoos go to work. "Then we pick a tunnel and go back to work."
  
  "Um," Val said, then shook her head and switched to mindspeak. <Can we talk about that?>
  
  <Yeah,> I answered, confused. <Why?>
  
  <You know how you've had a hard time with me fighting, even though I'm technically almost immortal, and said you only agreed to let me come because in the end you needed my talents?>
  
  <I don't remember admitting that last part to you, and you weren't ever supposed to find out I thought that,> I answered bluntly. <But yes. Why?>
  
  <Well, how do you think I felt, watching you dash through a whole horde of, well, Horde, that were bigger than you and on fire, when you can't even come back from the dead a single time?>
  
  <Probably really upset,> I realized. <But I was the best person for the job.>
  
  <Did you really need to go alone?> Val persisted. <I could have gone with you. I'm nimble enough to keep up, I can come back from the dead, and I still have a magic talking heal-jelly inside my backpack in case you're the one that gets hurt.>
  
  <Yeah, it's just that I don't want to put you into any more painful experiences than I already have,> I thought privately to myself, finally realizing what the issue was.
  
  Then Val's eyes widened, and I knew that thought hadn't been private after all.
  
  "That's what this was about?" she demanded angrily, then lowered her voice as everyone started looking at her. <That's why you still take so many stupid risks?>
  
  <Not entirely,> I grumbled, <but it's apparently a bigger factor than I realized, until now. We'll have to help me work this out later. For now take point with Eadric again and let's secure the hallways.>
  
  <Fine,> she said after a minute. <Old protocol? Start with the one on the left?>
  
  <Yeah,> I said, because there was no guarantee the center one would lead to the Horde Pit, or that something else would be down here that we'd need to check out first. The lack of stronger Horde concerned me, because even though this Pit had been strong enough to create the most advanced versions of shock troop Horde I had ever seen, we hadn't seen a single Spawn yet. I knew enough about Horde Pits to know that any time they were able to field a mass of a certain tier of Hordebeast, they definitely had at least one Hordebeast of a higher tier in charge. There should have been at least one Spawn, the magic users of the Horde, present in this Pit. I couldn't figure out why one hadn't shown up to turn the tide of the fight.
  
  Most likely though, they were still surprised by the fact that someone had broken into their lair without getting captured or killed. They were reacting, and I needed to take better advantage of that. I gave the signal, and we began to move down.
  
  Eadric and Val were still on duty, but by now everyone but the sprite-folk had severed a Hordebeast's limb and were using the oil to help disable traps, dripping on the ground as they walked. Everyone thought it was a gross idea—Horde oil really smelled, up close, but it enabled us to go twice as fast. For some reason applying a lot of Horde oil caused the traps to become completely visible, as if they were deactivating for maintenance, so we held our noses and sprinkled that goop all over the place. It worked well for the most part, but after about ten minutes the fairies all threatened to go on strike if we didn't let them cast some fragrance magic. Apparently it was another power that came from their strong connection to flowers and other plants, but more importantly it improved morale enough to where we could finish trekking down the damn hallway without further incident.
  
  The hallway turned out to be a long, straight tunnel, the first half of it dotted with a series of side-rooms that I expected to be lairs for Hordebeasts. The second half seemed to be dotted with rooms containing equipment and other goods, probably gathered from other raids. The long hallway finally ended in a set of doors—surprisingly untrapped—that led to a large chamber with alcove-like holes all along the wall.
  
  Each hole was barred, and frightened voices came from them. Even the floor in the middle of the chamber had them.
  
  "Is it time?" one of those voices asked.
  
  "I don't want to go," a young boy sobbed. "I want to go home instead."
  
  "I don't want to go with the Earthborn," another child said.
  
  "Shh," a tiny voice said from a smaller cage, giving off a faint yellow glow. "It's okay. They're probably coming for one of us instead."
  
  We had already begun to sweep into the room, but the Gaelguard all froze for a moment, stiffening.
  
  "Lord Challenger," Alum began. "Why are children and small folk in cages?"
  
  Apparently slavery was not in fashion back in Alum's time. But the captives reacted badly to his title for me.
  
  "Challenger?" another voice said, too weak for me to tell the age or gender. "Oh, no. Not one of those."
  
  "They're gonna take one of the fairies again, mama," a little girl cried. "Bad things are gonna happen to her."
  
  "Right then," Merada's voice cut through, steady but angry, "that's enough of that. No more crying out of the lot of ye."
  
  Her eyes swept through the room, taking everything. My other companions had already done the same.
  
  <Still no traps,> Val sent. <Looks like a holding center for Earthbound prisoners, like the one Wes broke us all out of on Avalon.>
  
  <Ye mean there are more of these?> Merada demanded. <On other worlds?>
  
  <I guess so,> I answered grimly. <I'll let you take point, since they all have a different opinion of me now.>
  
  A brief wave of guilt spilled out from Merada, and then she returned her focus to the prisoners.
  
  "Woad Princess," another woman's voice muttered. "Is it really you?"
  
  "Do ye know of anyone else who bothers to talk like this?" Stell's Satellite asked tartly. "Now where are yer guards, and where is the key for ye all?"
  
  "The Earthborn have it," a fairy babbled brightly. "The Horde hold us for them. In exchange they help the Horde get more gear, and prisoners, and power." The little woman gripped the bars tightly. "They've even helped the Horde create new monsters!"
  
  So that was where the Miscreants came from. They seemed to work together on a level that gave the Horde an effective rank-and-file troop, something the monsters always lacked, according to Stell. It probably gave them another edge in large battles, even if they were completely useless against a team as powerful as mine. It also explained why their gear had been a bit more uniform, and better quality.
  
  "And where are these other Earthborn?" Merada asked, eyes scanning the room once more.
  
  "Why ask us?" a woman asked bitterly. "There's one right next to you. He looks just like the one that led us down here."
  
  "No," my adopted sister said suddenly, stepping forward. "He's not the same, and he's not the only Earthborn here. Look at me," she said, gesturing to her Asian features. "Do I look native to you? I'm also an Earthborn. And I was a prisoner, too. Those Earthborn who tricked and kidnapped you practiced on other Earthborn like me first. He saved me," Val said, pointing her finger at me. "He's always saved me, and not just me! He always stood up to the bad Earthborn back home, and that's why they make every fake hero look like him! But he's the real thing, and if you want to let him help you, you better wake up and realize that he's the real thing, and that no one has time to lie to people who are already captured!"
  
  As she spoke, I felt some kind of pressure try to press down on Val. But it didn't stop her, and as she pressed through to finish speaking, I felt something gather together inside of her, and *push*.
  
  As everyone watched, she closed her eyes and let the power pulse out of her.
  
  "Wow," Breena said, flying next to her. "Congrats on the Rise, Val. That everyone saw, which lends even further credence to your words. You guys believe I'm the real Challenger's fairy, right?" Breena flew upward, glowing in an orange and pink light. "They haven't been able to fake me well, yet, have they?"
  
  There was a brief, stunned silence. And then all the captured fairies began chattering.
  
  "It's Aunt Breena!"
  
  "Aunt Breena's still alive!"
  
  "He's the real Challenger!"
  
  "Alright then," Merada interjected. "Glad ye're all convinced. Now where be the rest of the rotten ones?"
  
  "They went to the Pit!" someone shouted out. "It should be the center tunnel!"
  
  "They went there when the noise started!"
  
  "Right then," Merada announced. "Ye all just sit tight then. The Challenger and I will go about serving the proper thrashins to the proper people."
  
  A hushed cheer came out from several of the alcoves, and we turned back to head for the middle tunnel, moving as quickly as we dared.
  
  "Slavery's returned," I heard Alum mutter angrily. "We worked so hard to stamp it out of the tribes."
  
  "Times've changed, now," Merada said sadly, and angrily.
  
  "We'll just have to stamp it out again," I said, and then we all went silent as we walked back through the disarmed tunnel to the intersection where the earlier battle took place.
  
  <Center tunnel, then?> I messaged the team, and had Breena whisper the same question to Alum. Everyone nodded, because now we knew the center tunnel had at least two groups worth dealing with. We decided to go full stealth, falling back under the empowered version of my dagger's shroud, and we head down the center tunnel as quickly as we dared. Ironically, there seemed to be even fewer traps down this hallway, probably because the Horde was wanting people to wind up inside their pit. I had to steel myself when I realized that. The state of Pit victims had always horrified me, their miraculous recoveries not withstanding.
  
  Once again, we approached a massive door with no traps. Beyond the door we could hear voices.
  
  "This is stupid," a deep, human voice said bluntly. "Every second you wait here gives them another moment to prepare. We've talked to your kind about being stupid. I thought we were over this."
  
  "It is not stupid!" a sinister, inhuman voice hissed. "We have been over this as well! The Pit and its Prey must be guarded! We are stronger if we remain here!"
  
  "No, you're weaker because you don't know what's beyond these walls," the human retorted. "For all you know they've gone back to get help already. Then what will you do?"
  
  "Ensure the Pit is safe so that our numbers can regrow," the Horde voice spat. "We have been producing Horde slowly, per your foolish requests, instead of creating an army that will sweep over all nearby lands. The Pit is strong enough now to recover our losses in no more than a few days!"
  
  "Yes, and that's because you listened to us and did not attack in force earlier," the man's voice said somewhat patiently. "Right now, the people of this world have to split their attention between multiple Trials—or Tumults, or whatever they're called."
  
  "One of both, in this case," the Horde replied with surprising patience. "And further hiding will doom us. The traitor-prince has come to this world."
  
  "The traitor-prince is still in our custody," the Malus Man insisted, either deceitfully or obliviously.
  
  "Give him to us, then!" the monster's voice snapped. "Give him to us so that we may kill the traitor-prince!"
  
  "You can't have him," the human replied tiredly. "We're using him for research. We've been over this. He's going to die anyway. He probably already has."
  
  "Then give us his corpse so that we may vent on it and feed it to the Pit!"
  
  <Ew,> I thought, as my party gathered outside the door and quietly prepared to enter. I doubt they'd fail to notice a pair of giant doors opening, but maybe I could use the fact that they weren't entirely certain I was here, but were still sending imposters of me all over the place. I quickly wrote a veiling script Karim had shown me to slightly obscure my features, making me look like the generic false Challengers Merada had described to me on the way over here.
  
  "Look," the man said, changing the subject. "You're still going about this the wrong way. If you just hold some of the captives hostage, you have a good chance of turning the odds out there in your favor."
  
  "Hostages," the Horde murmured. "You have used this word before. The act of risking captured prey for a perceived benefit."
  
  "You have already acquired more prey than you know what to do with. Holding a knife to a mother and a child risks a small loss to you and a huge loss to the people choosing to attack you."
  
  "Wrong, human," the Horde spat. "Killing prey outside the Pit robs them of an infinite number of deaths that the Pit could give them if they were placed inside of it. We do not give up prey. That is why the traitor-prince is the traitor-prince."
  
  "That's nonsense," the Earthborn spat. "You give a number of prey as tribute to us. And didn't you used to parade previously used prey in front of your future victims all the time? Long ago?"
  
  "We have never given you prey that has already been placed in the Pit," the Horde voice countered. "And we only shared prey at all because you were willing to use them properly, and compensate us a hundredfold over for each prey given. As for the second," the monster growled, "you open up old wounds. We would flaunt used prey to discourage besieged cities of future prey, at a distance where our prey could not be risked, to let the future prey know of their fate and tremble in anticipation of the inevitable, and also sate ourselves when we were so far from the Pit. But we can no longer do that," the Hordebeast began to shout, "because of the taint of the traitor-prince! We are denied the sweetest of things, and all because of his words! And it is all your fault! So give us back the traitor-prince!"
  
  "Wait," the human voice said, confused. "What are you talking about?"
  
  For a wild moment I actually wanted to listen to the monster's reasoning. And then I remembered how every single previous conversation with the Horde had gone, and decided to stop being an idiot.
  
  <Ready?> I asked.
  
  <They're all ready,> Breena confirmed. <You don't have to talk to them this time.>
  
  <Thank god,> I thought as I walked forward and opened the door.
  
  "It's clear," I shouted as I walked in. "I talked them into leaving." I stepped into the chamber as casually as I could, still talking sarcastically. "They're waiting outside for more help while I try to 'save the captives on my own'."
  
  My eyes took in the room as quickly as my rapid-fire cognition would allow. Wide chamber, nearly the size of a high-school auditorium. Over fifty hostile Horde of all shapes and sizes packed in, in better gear than the ones outside. Three tall, horse-faced Spawn standing near the center, one in strange ornate robes, talking to four humans, three of which I recognized as men I had killed earlier during my prison break on Avalon.
  
  And a massive pit full of a tar-like substance, twice the size of my old school swimming pool and full of thrashing, screaming shapes that all sounded like they were reliving their most horrible nightmare while being scalded alive.
  
  "You actually convinced them?" the man who had been talking asked in disbelief as I walked a few steps forward to be out of my team's way when they attacked. "I thought they pretty much kill you guys on sight now?"
  
  The robed Spawn turned to look in my direction, sniffed his horse-like nostrils, and started shuddering.
  
  "They nearly did," I said tiredly, beginning to trace symbols into the air. "That hot princess of theirs spent five minutes trying to kill me, but I won her over. Let me finish drawing the map she gave of her base."
  
  "Really?" the man asked, interested, but then his eyes narrowed. "That's not a map. And you're not wearing—"
  
  "Traitor-prince!" the Spawn screamed in the highest pitch I had ever heard a Hordebeast utter, pointing a quivering finger. "The traitor-prince is in our—"
  
  <Widen. Empower. Duplicate. Connect. Connect.>
  
  I scrawled the words out as fast as I dared, my finger tingling from scribing the words so carelessly. My vital guard was probably already interfering with the damage I was causing to myself. But the words were written, and I began punching my stored spells into them. The first three words were written in a tight circle, while the two connects were written right behind them and on opposite edges of the circle, curving and sweeping over my view of the throng of Hordebeasts on either side of the Spawn in the center.
  
  "Tremble and fear!" I shouted, pitching my voice to invoke song magic as I punched my hands through the scripted words and began discharging my stored Ideal spells one after the other. My finger bolts blasted towards one side of the room, doubling in number and becoming crossbow bolt-sized instead of human digit-sized. The enchanted missiles actually blasted clean through the smaller Hordebeasts, impacted the Mongrels and Miscreants hard enough to knock the wind out of them, coursed through their bodies and then jumped over to the nearest upright monster.
  
  My fireblast spell fired out toward the other throng, thickening and doubling into two basketball-sized fireballs far brighter than the ones I usually fired. The two orbs exploded with a rush, and their secondary explosions left the survivors running, screaming, and melting. That side wouldn't need any further attention whatsoever.
  
  I pointed my final stored spell at the group in the center. This group had already begun to react, with the Spawn beginning to cast their spells, and the Malus Members leaping to the side, out of the way of all my flashy scary boom magic. I settled for hitting the Spawn and fired out two lightning bolts that were as thick as small trees, scorching into the Spawn on the left and nearly knocking him into the Pit behind him. He sank to his knees, his entire torso smoking and jerking. These bolts were outside of my connect scripts, but at the Journeyman level they duplicated on their own anyway. In fact, my empower script enhanced that feature as well, letting each bolt duplicate twice, letting each bolt strike both of the remaining Spawn. The second loincloth-clad monster screamed while clutching his left shoulder, but the robed Spawn in the middle just gestured with a long claw, creating an oily half-shield that blocked my final bolt.
  
  "You are not welcome here, traitor-prince!" the horse-faced monster bellowed. "This is no longer your home!"
  
  "Never was!" I snapped, launching myself forward and summoning my axe and shield. I remembered how powerful the last Spawn I battled were and tried to activate my Battleform, but my mindscreen still insisted the ability had been overtaxed.
  
  "Stop him!" the creature screamed, black magic streaming out of his hands and into the Pit. "And do not let him talk! His violations end today!"
  
  <Thank God,> I thought fervently.
  
  Because that feeling was entirely mutual.
  
  But then a head broke free of the Pit's surface with a howl.
  
  "Traitor-prince! Traitor-prince!" The lupine head ripped the rest of its body free of the muck. "We have found the traitor-prince!"
  
  The call was taken up by further heads, who also broke free of the muck.
  
  "Catch and kill the traitor-prince!"
  
  I grimaced as the new species of Horde tore their werewolf bodies free of the muck and raced toward me.
  
  Howlers could be even more dangerous than Mongrels, and almost as dangerous as Spawn.
  
  Even if they weren't outfitted with armor and iron-tipped claws, like this pack had been.
  
  Behind me, the doors slammed open as the Gaelguard, elves, and fairies entered the room, hurling missiles and magic into the Howlers and other surviving Hordebeasts.
  
  I ducked under the sweep of an iron-tipped claw and slashed my axe through a canine knee, still charging for the Spawn. I had to reach them before their magic killed half of my team. I dodged a bite, then another claw swipe, then slashed my way past a third mail-clad Howler before I was stopped by a lupine monster over eight feet tall. He charged to take me down in a tackle but tripped and fell at the last minute, howling and clutching at his bloody ankle. Val's shroud deactivated as she leaped on top of him and drove both blades down his throat.
  
  <See?> she thought at me as she ripped her blades out of the Howler's throat. <See how much better this works with backup?>
  
  <You were right,> I admitted as I launched off of the still-twitching corpse. <Hurry up and get used to it.>
  
  I felt her smirk at me through the mindlink as I dismissed the dagger I had been clutching behind my shield. I skirted sideways to slam the barrier into another Howler's head, and then the Gaelguard slammed into the monsters trying to flank me from behind.
  
  I rolled forward and then I was finally clear of everything trying to keep me from reaching the Spawn.
  
  The one in robes stood tall, glaring at me with hateful orbs.
  
  "This is as far as you come," he growled as his hands began to smoke with power. "I will not let your depravity reach our next brood!"
  
  "Bastard," I growled. "We both agreed not to talk!"
  
  Val burst free of the Howler throng a couple seconds later, her weapons coated with the blood of the last two Howlers she had hamstrung on her way out.
  
  <Wow,> she sent as she caught up with me. <These guys are really ugly.>
  
  <Yeah,> I replied, still sprinting for all I was worth. <Try to take down the more wounded one as fast as you can.>
  
  The robed Spawn looked to be almost done casting, but he aborted his spell with a snarl when I hurled Toirneach at his hands. He immediately cast a second, faster spell, sending a column of tarry, smoldering smoke at me. It would have hit if I hadn't already changed my direction moments ago, and my shoulder still burned from the close proximity of the smoky bolt.
  
  I rolled forward one final time to close in on the Spawn with the wounded shoulder, summoning my Horde cleaver and swinging the weapon one-handed into the monster's healthy shoulder. The Hordebeast moved backwards, but wasn't fast enough. My glowing, unwieldy weapon cracked into his bicep. I let go of the weapon the very next moment, drawing my spatha and slamming the weapon into the Spawn's gut, pushing the flaming weapon as deep into the creature's gut as I could, until the monster bellowed and kicked me away. I let go of the weapon before I flew away, landing in a roll and raising my free hand to catch Toirneach as it came whistling back towards me.
  
  More magic crackled behind me as Breena and the Testifiers suddenly discharged their magic together, and I felt my warband gain the upper hand on the remaining monsters. Val swore as she was knocked tumbling away from the more injured Hordebeast before she came back up in a roll next to me. The three of them advanced forward, the middle one's hands wisping again as he worked a third spell.
  
  "Why do they have to be tough and creepy?" she growled, still holding onto her weapons. "They should only be able to pick one or the other!"
  
  "Preaching to the choir, sis," I replied, passing my axe to my shield hand to quickly work out some Air magic.
  
  The Spawn-priest abandoned his spell to quickly create a shield of oily magic that encircled all three of the Spawn, doing so just before I finished my own spell.
  
  I couldn't help but grin as I completed my spell by pointing behind me, sending a Friction Slice at the last knot of Howlers still struggling with my Gaelguard. The crackling sawblade of air sliced through several Hordebeast ankles before it dissipated harmlessly at the feet of my own people.
  
  "Um," a human voice said off to the side. "Shouldn't we do something? Or do we let him destroy the Pit?"
  
  "He just blew up over half of the monsters in here on his own," the Malus member in charge answered, a fellow wearing plain cloths and a heavy cloak. "We already missed our window to intervene. This Pit is lost. Now all we can do is stay alive so that we can actually learn his abilities when we report back. Both of which the two of you should have already done," the man added angrily.
  
  The other two Malus members blanched.
  
  "We thought we already saw everything he could do," one of them muttered weakly. "And that he'd be stuck on Avalon."
  
  "Well, you were wrong," their leader growled. "So this time we're making sure we see everything, and that we survive, so that we don't risk coming back to Earth with scrambled brains. Like your colleagues did."
  
  <Want me to shoot them?> Weylin messaged. I sensed from his mindlink that my warband had managed to overwhelm the last of the Howlers, though many of them had gotten wounded and were requiring attention from the fairies.
  
  <Not until the Spawn are all out of tricks,> I thought back, working a Lightning spell into existence. <But coordinate a trap with Karim and Eadric so that they don't get away with the key.>
  
  The Pit began to churn in front of us, making the people trapped in it scream even louder. That was another reason to act quickly. The priest-like Spawn held out both of his arms as a tentacle of muck from the Pit sloshed out and began to coat him and the other two Spawn, hardening into plate armor over their torsos, shins, and forearms. Then all three pairs of hands blazed with magic.
  
  "Protect the Pit!" the center Spawn screamed. "Protect it with your lives, or he will taint it, and we will never be reborn!"
  
  I finished my next spell just in time. The Spawn didn't bother with blocking it, since they were coated in armor now. But I didn't need them to block it, because my next spell was Light Screen, an intense flash of bright light.
  
  The mindlink and fairy communication had let my team prepare for the magical flash bomb, but the Hordebeasts all shrieked in unison as they struggled to maintain their incantations. But in those scant few seconds we were all rushing forward again. A barrage of arrows from Merada and the elves whistled into the less-wounded Spawn, two of them striking off of the creature's hardened skull. Val launched herself back at the Spawn with the scorched torso, hurling daggers from one hand as she jumped forward in a zig-zagging charge. The monster snorted with contempt as most of them bounced off his armor, but when he fully opened his arms Val was already next to him. She sliced through an unarmored portion of his leg with her short blade, flicked the longer upward to nick his fiery wrist, then suddenly phased her entire body upward and behind the creature, slashing one blade across his throat and another up through the back of his bottom jaw. She ripped her weapons free and fell with the monster, stabbing him all the way down until his vital guard was completely overwhelmed. I charged the middle Spawn, but his concentration had held completely, and the very next moment he was hurling a bubbling ball of burning tar at me. I hurled my axe to detonate it early and rolled under the blast, coming to my feet and closing the rest of the distance between myself and the Pit champion with an Air magic-enhanced leap.
  
  He reached out and caught me with a massive hand, snarling in triumph as he raised his free hand to finish me off with a point-blank blast of Horde magic. This time, my Outer Current spell activated on its own, sizzling his arm, then dancing across his armor to fry the rest of his body. As the voltage shocked him Toirneach returned to my hand, letting me chop free of his grip. As I landed I slashed along the monster's leg, and Toirneach crunched its way right through the Horde armor. The horse-like head growled in pain, but remained standing. My shield blocked a blazing punch from the monster's other arm. As the Spawn priest's eyes widened in shock at my strength I flipped my axe around to slam the hook end just where the Hordebeast's neck met the breastplate. I dropped my shield to grab the weapon in both hands and yank downward, pulling the surprised monster right off his feet. I punched into his descending mouth and manually triggered the discharge on my Outer Current, letting the full current of electricity channel into his mouth with my fist and into his neck with my implanted axe.
  
  He gurgled and spasmed until I threw his disgusting body off of me, ripped my axe back out, and decapitated him with a final two-handed swing.
  
  I looked up to see Merada and the Gaelguard piled around the final Spawn's prone form. They were stabbing it over and over until it finally stopped twitching.
  
  <Last wounded is back up,> Breena messaged me. <That went way better this time, huh?>
  
  <Yeah,> I replied. <Guess a bunch of extra Rises and elite backup made the difference.>
  
  I looked up to see shocked faces on the remaining Malus members. Even the Pit had gone quiet for now, muffling the screaming bodies inside it somehow. When I looked at it, it seemed to shrink back, and the bodies inside of it suddenly relaxed, as if they had been sedated.
  
  <Submission,> I realized. <It's trying not to antagonize me.>
  
  For some reason, despite being dangerous in their own right, the Pits I had encountered had never really tried to fight back. Even the first one never did any more than posture threateningly at me. But to avoid drawing attention, I immediately looked over to the Malus Members, who were still quietly watching me.
  
  "Make a note," the leader finally said to the other two. "Subject has not only regained his health and awareness. He has currently gained a level of power far exceeding his previous peak."
  
  "Thanks," I said sarcastically to them from across the Pit. "The three of you are staying, though, right? Because we already made cookies and punch."
  
  "What, really?" one of the fairies asked. "When?"
  
  "He was being sarcastic," Breena replied sadly. "It's like how we play pranks. But not as funny."
  
  "Oh," Petal said as her face fell. "We should have." She looked at the Pit. "It would help them get over this when we finally pull them free."
  
  I would have argued with Petal-bell, except she was the only member of our group that had actually been in a Horde Pit before. If she said food and refreshment helped in the recovery process then I actually had to take her feedback seriously. She turned to look at me hopefully. "Can you pull them free now?"
  
  "As soon as we deal with the local solicitors," I said, turning to glare at the Malus Men. "You heard the lady. We've got things to do."
  
  "We're about to leave you to them," Rhodes' senior lackey replied, looking completely unperturbed. "Don't mind us."
  
  "Actually I do," I answered. "But answer me this, first: Back when I first encountered the Horde, how did they know to expect me? And why were they surprised when I renounced them?"
  
  The skinny man on the right cocked his head, confused.
  
  "You knew they were expecting yo—"
  
  "Quiet, idiot!" the middle one snapped, outraged at the grunt's blatant stupidity. "And that's classified."
  
  "The fact that it's classified means that you knew they were expecting someone, which means they were probably expecting someone from your group," I mentioned dryly. "But you were still trying to get to Avalon at that point, so you couldn't have been communicating with them on your own. Except that the first thing your people did on Avalon was to create a Horde Pit," I said, eyes narrowing. "Which means you probably always could have done that. Are there Horde on Earth too? Can they communicate with the Horde offworld?"
  
  "That's also classified," the would-be middle manager answered with another grimace. "And it was a mistake for you to leave Avalon. Your base there will be gone by the time you return."
  
  <Act dumb and don't take the bait,> I sent to everyone.
  
  <Duh,> Breena snorted.
  
  "What do you mean?" I asked with my best poker face.
  
  "I mean now that we know you've become active there, we're going to hit you with every spare resource we have. We've had fifty years to build up resources. And unless you've somehow managed to reverse the flow of time on that planet, then you're still going to be weeks behind our own production for every day that passes there."
  
  <Wow, he doesn't know anything,> Val noted.
  
  <Believe me,> Breena grumbled. <It takes time to get used to all the breaking your brother does with magic and physics. It's why I try to never leave him alone for five minutes.>
  
  <Speaking of which,> Karim said quickly. <We need to talk about how you almost lost your hand and throat by combining three different—>
  
  <Focus,> I sent quickly. "Do you really think I didn't make any precautions for round two with you idiots? Aside from the fact that I was able to mop the floor with you guys pretty much on my own?"
  
  The two idiots flanking the guy in charge glowered at me. They were unanimously ignored.
  
  "Yes, I know," the local management dismissed. "You left that big-breasted MILF bitch behind as defense."
  
  <He doesn't get to call her that,> Teeth growled inside me, as the fairies flying behind us quietly asked each other what a MILF was. I agreed, but waited for the moron to finish hanging himself.
  
  "But even if you managed to find and save her, she's going to be wounded from before. It's been a few days here at the most, so she couldn't possibly have enough time to recover."
  
  "Even wounded, she can still kick my ass," I snorted. "She should be able to handle you idiots without a problem."
  
  <But Guineve isn't wounded anymore…> Breena sent, then trailed off. <Oh! Right! We're still tricking them!>
  
  I privately wondered how fairies could be so oblivious and still be so good at causing mischief. But then Skinny Idiot began speaking again.
  
  "We went easy on you before, Cripplehead! Everyone was tired of slapping you around!"
  
  "No you weren't," I said calmly. "You people were simple creatures with simple hobbies."
  
  "Regardless," Asshole Manager replied, "she won't be facing just us. In fact, even if you somehow retain control of the portal system, the Horde have their own ways into your planet. And they're bringing one of their most powerful servants, a monster raised to Icon status solely to hunt for the so-called traitor-prince. Your little MILF bitch won't be able to handle the Raw-Mawed Wolf…"
  
  "That's the second time you've called her that," I said quietly. "Are you sure you want to keep talking about her like that?"
  
  "And when he finds out you're no longer there, he'll devour the other prisoners you rescued in his anger, and deliver your pretty friend straight over to our Umbral Lord," the jerk continued, though he adjusted the language he used concerning Guineve. "So you're going to have to decide whether you want to stay here, let all of your fellow prisoners die and let Lord Cavus do whatever it is he wants to do to the Starsown's Satellite, or leave here to try and somehow deal with Avalon's threat." He turned his gaze over to the elves, fairies, and Woadfolk. "And even if you somehow survive the Dark Icon in your back yard, you're still doomed. In the first place, because even if you can somehow help your oldest crush deal with a nascent demigod, the Horde leadership will just raise up a stronger Dark Icon, one probably on the level of a full-fledged deity, to deal with you next. In the second place, you don't have the time to save both worlds at once. The Woadlands will fall to one of the two catastrophes in less than six months, local time, and both of them are getting stronger by the day. By the time you come back, the Tumults will either have run their course or have gotten too powerful for you to be able to interfere. Then this world will fall, like Avalon originally did, except that this time you won't be able to reverse the process. And then we'll deliver your second crush, that saucy little Scottish bitch, straight to Cavus ourselves, and get power from it."
  
  "Will ye now?" Merada snorted, fingering her spear irritably.
  
  <Can I stab 'em yet?> she asked me over the mindlink.
  
  <Gotta make sure we can get the key,> I replied apologetically. <Sorry. They won't be able to talk much longer.>
  
  "Is that all of your questions?" the Malus man asked arrogantly, hands in his pockets. "Because I've got plenty of work I need to be doing."
  
  "Yeah," I began to say, but little Petal suddenly shouted.
  
  "No!" she screeched. "Why are you even doing this? Why are you trying to take so much from us? You're Earthborn! We used to trust you! We would have given anything you really needed! And why would you want to hurt us all so badly? We don't even know you! We don't even know who you people are!"
  
  The prick grinned at her.
  
  "That's cute. She's adorable, Wes. I'll do you a favor and answer her questions. Taking is better than asking, because then no one can tell you no. And you did try to tell us no when we asked for your lives, freedom, and bodies. And we hurt you all for the same reason we kept hurting him." He tilted his head toward me. "This isn't Earth. When you make someone else fail, you're rewarded with an appropriate amount of power. Making your whole world fail will probably make us gods, or close enough. Finally, the women your own pet Earthborn keeps crushing over are already spoken for, and one of them happens to be hiding here. So this is all arguably her fault as well."
  
  "Bastards," Merada growled, tightening her grip on her spear.
  
  "And don't worry about our names, little sprite," the man finished. "You'll be calling us all master soon enough."
  
  "Actually, I'll take that one, Petal," I spoke up.
  
  "You don't know our names either," the arrogant asshole replied.
  
  "Sure I do," I said, pointing at the larger one of the two flunkies. "That's Drowned Dick," I said, remembering the way he died. "That's Fried Fred," I pointed to the skinny one, who I had blown up back on Avalon. "And finally…" I said, pausing as I realized I hadn't killed the guy yet, so I didn't have a name for him. "Don't tell me, it's on the tip of my tongue…"
  
  "You never even—"
  
  "Felicia," I finally answered as I snapped my fingers. "His name's Felicia."
  
  "Felicia," the newly named Malus Member started to sputter. "Who the hell is—"
  
  "Exactly, bitch," I answered before turning to my people. "Preparations are finished. Start attacking at any time."
  
  "You can't stop us from returning to Earth!" Felicia snapped, slashing his hand down in front of him. There was a pulse of invisible magic, but nothing else happened.
  
  "The ward held," Eadric grunted cheerfully, raising up the figurines he crafted. "We're good, boss."
  
  Felicia's eyes widened in confusion.
  
  "How…" he sputtered. But arrows and fiery darts were already slamming into Drowned Dick and Fried Fred.
  
  "Remember how you guys captured me, and then found a way to prevent me from escaping torture by returning to my original body all those times?" I asked quietly, hurling my axe into Felicia's kneecap. He tried to dodge, but the weapon tracked him and sliced straight into the bone. "It turns out your people left notes. That my people were able to read and then reverse-engineer."
  
  That wasn't entirely true, because I had accessed the notes myself on one of the rare times I had seized control of the device implanted into my brain. But there was no need for them to know that.
  
  Felicia screamed as he fell, clutching his leg. I ignored him.
  
  "Now the only thing I really need from you guys, other than your deaths, is the key you've locked the other captives up with. The first one who tells me where it is—"
  
  "He has it!" Drowned Dick and Fried Fred both screamed at once, pointing to Felicia.
  
  "Thank you both," I answered as I kept walking forward, moving slow enough to recast my signature Lightning Bolt spell. "I'll be sure and recognize you two by giving you better death names. Probably Pierced Perry and Punctured Pete." Felicia raised his hand to try and summon his own magic, so I blasted the limb apart. The elves and fairies worked to disable the limbs of all three Malus Men. When they had finished, the Gaelguard walked forward to restrain them physically and help me search them.
  
  "Nothing of real value," Alum answered as they stripped the men of their gear and armor. "Their equipment isn't quite as good as our own, though their metalwork is impressive. The two lackeys were telling the truth about the maiden-named one having the only key." He handed me an iron key.
  
  "This key will work for every lock?" I asked suspiciously.
  
  "Yes!" one of the formerly loyal lackeys shouted. "We've used it that way! It's magic! I don't know how it works!"
  
  "Why were ye even bothering—" Merada began, but the other idiot interrupted her.
  
  "Slaves! Bound for Earth! Our leaders back home can't get enough of your people! It keeps our bosses rich! Passes the right laws!"
  
  The beautiful amazon's face darkened.
  
  "It's how we traffic them now!" the other one shouted. "Always in the leftmost tunnel of the Horde Pits! The right tunnel has prisoners for the local monsters! The key will work on those cages as well!" he shouted quickly, and desperately. "And it will work for every dungeon you find!"
  
  "Idiot, don't tell him that!" Felicia shouted. "What's gotten into you two?"
  
  "It's because they died before," I answered calmly, walking up to Drowned Dick. "It's the most horrible feeling a person ever experiences. It's not something your vital guard can help you get past. A single horrible death can even change you," I said, pulling out my flaming spatha and stabbing the man through the temple, twisting to give a quick, efficient death. "Even break you. A second one can be all it takes for you to come back knowing that you didn't really make it, that you left part of your mind back there, still screaming on the cold, bloody floor. More than that increases the risk, but in a way, it's irrelevant," I said, walking toward the other person that had accepted my 'reduced sentence.' "Because after you've died even once, you know that no matter how many times you come back, you're forever only a single step away from whatever edge all of the nightmares climb up from."
  
  "Speaking of nightmares," Val spoke up. "Let me have this one. Please."
  
  She was my adopted sister, so of course I said yes right now.
  
  "Thanks," she said quietly, walking up to Charred Charlie. His face whitened as he looked up at her.
  
  "You," he gasped. "You're here? Why?"
  
  "Because I wanna be," Val said with a shrug. "Why aren't you happy right now?" she asked, her voice darkening. "You were always talking about how much you wanted to see me before."
  
  "That was," he gasped, the pain of his wounds still bothering him. "I never—"
  
  "Got the chance," Val finished for him. "But you and the other sick freaks would always tell me what you'd do to me if you caught me alone. Even after you made me lie about my adopted dad—after you killed my dad," she growled. "So I'm going to keep my brother's promise. But I want you to know, that if you ever do to a girl, no matter how young or how old, what you threatened to do to me, then I will find you—" she stabbed him somewhere in the chest I couldn't see—"and I will make sure that in your next death you will go over that cliff." He gasped, and she leaned forward. "This is the last clean death you ever get."
  
  Her other blade took him through the eye, and he went still. Val closed her eyes and shook for a moment, then she pulled her weapons free of the corpse. "Thanks, Wes," she said after a moment.
  
  I wanted to check on her, but now wasn't the time. I had dozens, if not hundreds of people to take care of right after I dealt with the last idiot.
  
  "You're making a mistake!" Mr. Felicia screamed in a cracked voice. "The Horde will take your people apart! Then they'll come find you here, and they'll make you watch it all over again! You can't win, Malcolm! You were never going to—"
  
  "Beg yer pardon, mister Challenger," Merada interrupted. "But I'll get the next one, if ye don't mind?"
  
  "Go for it," I said, turning to walk over to the Pit. It would save me a couple seconds at least. I heard a wet thunk behind me, and Felicia let out a pained whimper.
  
  "I want ye to understand something," she said in her calm, dangerous voice. "No man, and no creature disguised as a man, determines who owns me. Or me people," she said, and I thought I heard the messy sound my own spear made whenever it twisted into flesh. Felicia made another pained whimper, and I knew that his vital guard had been completely exhausted. "Go tell the rest of yer ilk that message. I don't care if yer lord beasty hears it either, because I'll never be his. That's it, then. Bye, Felicia."
  
  I heard one more thunk as I walked up to the Pit's edge, and then I felt a sense of satisfaction radiate out from the Woad Princess. Val hurried over next to me, already reaching into her pack. The Pit rippled backwards, as if it was trying to pull away from me. A bubble on its tar-like surface suddenly popped, creating one of the belch-like sounds that the Horde Pits used to speak.
  
  "Why?" it asked. "Want… serve."
  
  "I know," I answered. I had already had this conversation at least four times by now, two of which happened after Raw-Maw's death. "You always say that."
  
  "These… your prey…" the bubbles belched. "Why… still take?"
  
  "Because they are already mine," I answered, looking at the bodies. They seemed still at the moment, which was rare. Horde Pits either dissolved most of their victims' bodies or kept them in a state of suspended, suffering animation, but these currently didn't seem to be in any pain.
  
  "No," the Pit quivered, "not ready. Too soon to take them. Cannot please you yet."
  
  "Their suffering does not please me," I answered. I wished I didn't have to talk to this disgusting, sadistic thing, but I've found that it's easier to thoroughly destroy a Pit after it relaxes its guard, and talking to it always relaxes at least part of its awareness. "Neither does their fear, or their slavery, or their shame. Release them."
  
  "Not right," the Pit complained. "Father says… you not right."
  
  "He's not your father," I said as Val finished opening her pack. "You used to be something else. Something that didn't like to hurt people at all. Right, Ball-ee?"
  
  The little jelly that had saved the wounded mother back in the elven village popped out of Val's bag.
  
  "Di-rec-tive!" it squeaked. Ball-ee jumped closer to the tarry ooze, quivering its body as it tried to gesture at the tar-like mass. "Di-rec-tive!"
  
  "No," the Pit moaned, its slimy body pulling back even further. "What is it? What is that thing?"
  
  "Far as I can tell, he's what you used to be," I answered as Ball-ee leaped over to me, tugging on my leg with one pseudopod and gesturing at the Horde Pit with the other.
  
  "Di-rec-tive?"
  
  "Directive." I nodded. "Change him back to his original state."
  
  "Di-rec-tive!" Ball-ee said with a happy bounce, leaping into the ditch and toward the quivering mass of ooze. "Change! Teach! Heal! Di-rec-tive!"
  
  "Take," the terrified slime burped. "It will… take from… me."
  
  "Yup," I replied calmly. "You will lose what you are now, by gaining back what was stolen from you."
  
  <*Seek what is lost,*> the quiet voice said inside me. <*So that greater things may come.*>
  
  "Get back," the Pit belched, brandishing a sludgy pseudopod like a whip. But the little jelly just bunched up and began to leak a sweet-smelling blue mist from its body.
  
  "Di-rec-tive!" Ball-ee chirped again, spraying the mist toward the muck in front of it. The mist struck the brandishing tentacle, and the Pit screamed from a thousand bubbles as the black tentacle splashed apart, turning into clear water droplets. Limp forms fell out of the destroyed tentacle, flopping onto the soft ground inside the trench.
  
  "Noo…" the ooze wailed. "Lost… prey…now…changing…don't…wan't…"
  
  "You only feel that way because Aegrim made you forget what healing people used to feel like," I sighed. Ball-ee quivered in agreement.
  
  "Di-rec-tive! Heal! Fix! Change! Di-rec-tive!"
  
  "No… right…" the Pit belched in argument, but I shook my head again.
  
  "You can't call me a prince and still dictate what I can or can't do in the next sentence. If others can incarcerate or punish criminals against their will in an attempt to rehabilitate them, then I can purify a giant torture ooze that wants to consume people and create something better out of the process. Keep going, Ball-ee."
  
  The little jelly nodded. More of its blue mist spread over the wailing Pit ooze, dissolving it into clear droplets of water that quickly evaporated. The dissolution left the people and fairies unharmed, the mist somehow letting them fall gently to the floor, still sleeping fitfully. Merada sucked in a breath at the sight.
  
  "It's true," she said softly. "Ye really can save them."
  
  "Yeah," I nodded. "But this is the easy part." I turned to look behind me. "Everyone get out any spare clothing or blankets you have. These people are going to be cold and frightened when they wake up."
  
  "On it!" Petal shouted as she flew forward with a tiny blanket. Where she got it from, I had no idea, but at her urging the other fairies were following suit.
  
  <Don't ask,> Breena sent at me. <Just accept that it's magic.> She flew high above the pit and began to glow. <I'll help, too.>
  
  More of the Pit began to dissolve as Ball-ee's mist spread over it, and more bodies fell. Eventually Merada's people and the Gaelguard ran forward, pulling blankets out of their own packs. Finally the Pit wailed and quivered one more time and splashed downward, dissolving into a million clear droplets.
  
  <That was number five,> I noted quietly to myself, as the Dragon of Pain reached through our flesh-bond to rage at me.
  
  <Another masterpiece undone. I will remember this, traitor-prince.>
  
  Through the soul-bond, Vinclum, the Dragon of Honor and Bonds reached out to answer him.
  
  <Had you been wiser, Aegrim, you would have foreseen this end when you forced his ancestors to pass down your bond. Well, done, Malcolm. Invictus knows you by name.>
  
  That was all the time I had to spare for my invisible friends, because the Pit victims were starting to wake up. I climbed into the trench as well, summoning the spare clothing I had packed into my storage space. Merada tilted her head at me in surprise. She had just wrapped a blanket around one of the victims, sighing in relief when she realized the still-sleeping woman was breathing normally. But my pulling bundles of blankets out of nowhere still caught her eyes somehow.
  
  "Just how much stuff are ye carrying around? And where do ye keep it?"
  
  "Invisible magic container," I replied, simplifying more for my own sanity than anything else. "And since it duplicates my own Strength, it can carry as much as I can."
  
  "How much is that?" she asked, marveling as I began to cover several people with my blankets.
  
  "These days?" I started to hedge, then gave up. "Over two thousand pounds."
  
  Her eyes widened in surprise, but then her patient woke up crying and shivering, and she began to soothe the covered woman, telling her that everything was okay now.
  
  The woman seemed to calm as she recognized the Woad Princess, but that made me realize that they'd probably just mistake me for one of my Malus imposters, and I growled in frustration. I settled for draping as many blankets as I could over as many people and fairies I passed by.
  
  When I got to the center of the drained trench, I found Ball-ee quivering next to a smaller blue jelly.
  
  "Di-rec…" it chirped hesitantly, as if it was frightened. But Ball-ee nudged it encouragingly.
  
  "Di-rec-tive!" Ball-ee affirmed. "Yes! Di-rec-tive!"
  
  "Di-rec-tive?" the smaller blue ball inquired.
  
  Ball-ee bounced again, and this time I noticed Val's jelly had grown even larger, the way it had after purifying every other Pit.
  
  "Yes!" Ball-ee squeaked as it pointed a pseudopod at all of the former victims, many still shivering and crying. "Seek! Save! Heal! Di-rec-tive!"
  
  "Di-rec-tive…" the smaller jelly said experimentally, as if it was getting used to the idea. "Di-rec-tive… yes! Di-rec-tive!"
  
  "Di-rec-tive!" Ball-ee repeated urgently, and bounced toward the sobbing mass of traumatized people, pausing just long enough for the new heal-jelly to keep up. "Show! Save! Heal! Di-rec-tive!"
  
  As they bounced, Ball-ee began emitting its blue mist again. The smaller jelly quivered as if it was watching, and then began doing the same.
  
  "Directive!" the new jelly repeated passionately as it copied Ball-ee. "Di-rec-tive! Heal! Save! They continued bouncing closer to the former victims, spraying healing mist all over the place as they did so.
  
  I left them to it as I kept tossing blankets over naked forms, careful not to touch any of them because I knew no one would trust me after what the other Earthborn had done to them.
  
  At one point, I passed by Petal holding another, shivering fairy that kept wailing and wailing.
  
  "It's okay!" Petal insisted. "It's over now! You're gonna make it and get better!"
  
  "How?" the other fairy sobbed, still shivering. "How can I ever feel better? You don't know what it's like!"
  
  "Yes I do!" Little Petal said as she glowed fiercely. "Because it happened to me, too! But I didn't stay broken, and you won't either! Because whether you feel it or not, you'll get a little better every time you dare to hope you can make it!"
  
  The other sprite looked into Petal's blazing eyes. After another moment, she nodded. As they both looked down, I felt them reach inside of themselves for something, find it…
  
  And *push*.
  
  Here and there, I felt other pulses of power as other rescued victims made the same choice to hope, in spite of what they had just been through. My own soul started to churn as well, and I knew I would Rise again soon.
  
  At that moment, just when it looked like everything was going well, another woman saw me and began screaming.
  
  "Earthborn!" she shrieked in hysteria, pointing a trembling finger at me. "Another Earthborn! This is a trap!"
  
  Others saw me and began screaming as well. These people didn't have anyone tending to them because there had been just too many victims here for my people to comfort all at once. They all began screaming for me to get away, and that they didn't want to go back inside the Pit.
  
  Then orange, pink, and golden light spilled out over their heads, and they all looked up to see Breena flying over them.
  
  She had expanded to almost human-size, with giant wings glowing with all the colors of the sunrise.
  
  "Be at peace, children of the Woadlands," she said in a melodious voice. "The one before you is no false savior. He is the Champion of Avalon, and you are all now under his protection. Behold me, his herald—" she gestured at herself—"and behold how he has already shattered the nightmare imprisoning you. Behold and take heart. All shall be well. Avalon's Champion is here. The Woadlands' daughter is here." She pointed to Merada. "Behold, and put your hearts at rest."
  
  "A dawn fairy," someone said reverently, basking in Breena's glow. "The Earthborn have never captured one of the sunrise sprites."
  
  "They are almost extinct," one of the other fairies said, looking up in awe.
  
  "As are the Gaelguard," another woman said, clutching her blanket and pointing to Alum and his band. "Where did so many Gaelguard come from?"
  
  "We're saved," a little girl in a blanket said as she clutched at the woman next to her. "Momma, we're really saved."
  
  "We can go home now," the small boy on the other side of the woman said. "Even if we have to make a new one… right, Momma?"
  
  The tired woman looked down at her two children, bit her lip, and finally nodded. A moment later I felt a new pulse as the three of them all reached inside themselves and *pushed*.
  
  I smiled at Breena as more and more rescued prisoners threw off just enough of their trauma to be able to Rise, reaping the reward the Expanse gave them for overcoming the Challenge of choosing to hope again. Not every single person did it right away, but that didn't bother me, because I knew they wouldn't have to. Everyone recovers in their own way, at their own speed. even if they didn't believe recovery was possible right now. Even if they weren't choosing recovery yet.
  
  <*Failure is non-permanent,*> the first Universal Law I had learned rolled through my mind, and the others followed suit.
  
  <*All is not lost.*>
  
  <*Greater things are yet to come.*>
  
  Those laws shuddered through my body as well, increasing the pressure under the weight resting over my soul. I would Rise soon. And I knew that, once again, something would try to prevent me from doing so. But for now, I still had people to get to safety.
  
  "There's still one hallway we haven't cleared," I said to Merada as she walked over to me. "I should have asked more questions about that one," I added with a wince. All in all, most of the information Felicia's people had given me just confirmed that I knew more than they did. They hadn't even realized I'd already slain Raw-Maw.
  
  "Can't think of everything." The beautiful huntress shrugged. "Don't even have the time for it if ye can. But we'll have help soon enough, I reckon." She looked up at her fellow Satellite. <By the way, nice work on calming all me kittens, Breena.>
  
  <Thanks!> my bonded fairy gushed through the mindlink as she dimmed and shrunk to a smaller size. <Gosh, I hadn't tried to talk like that in forever! I thought I'd lost my touch!> She flew down to sit on my shoulder. <But I think I'll wait for the next winter ball before I go all 'formal Breena,' again. Do you wanna have a ball when both the Tumults are over, Merada?>
  
  <That sounds lovely,> Merada beamed. She looked out at her people again, and I felt intense relief and gratitude spill out from her mindlink. <We'll have to take the big strong hero as our date, though, or the people he just saved will think we're ungrateful and riot.>
  
  <Hurray!> Breena cheered. <That means matching outfits again!>
  
  <Wait,> Teeth spoke up. <Did they just offer to—>
  
  <I have no idea,> I answered him. <And that fact frustrates me as much as it does you.>
  
  He disagreed and muttered some choice names for me. I ignored him and turned back to the two Satellites.
  
  "We'd better go free the rest of the prisoners," I said. "And then we need to figure out how to safely transport hundreds of people to…" I trailed off when I realized I had no idea where most of these people came from. "The elven village, I guess?" I shrugged, because at least some of the prisoners had to have come from there. "Unless there are better ideas?"
  
  "There are," Merada said smugly, but said nothing else. Apparently she became more of a tease when she was really happy. But then again, the rest of Stell probably got that way too.
  
  "She's right, there totally are," Breena confirmed with a smirk of her own, proving my point. "You should check your mindscreen more, Wes."
  
  "I just did," I started to complain, until I suddenly received a message from it. I swore under my breath and activated the notification.
  
  ─ A Challenge has been overcome in the Woadlands. All Icons bear witness that an Outbreak of Horde has been destroyed at the source by Challenger Wes Malcolm. The birth of a life form previously classified as extinct has also been detected.
  
  ─ The Woadlands' Icons hereby recognize Challenger Wes Malcolm's actions and acknowledge his status as Avalon's Challenger. They hereby acknowledge Wes Malcolm's status as Challenger of Avalon, and adjust their perceptions of him accordingly.
  
  ─ Mother Glade approves of your actions and views you with wary acceptance.
  
  ─ The Stag Lord approves of your actions and grants you provisional recognition.
  
  ─ Lady Titania approves of your actions and cautiously expresses her gratitude over your rescue of her children.
  
  ─ Great Pan welcomes your return and inquires whether you are finally of age to drink alcohol with him.
  
  "Really?" I demanded angrily. "I come out of nowhere, save this many of their people, destroy one of their three major threats and all they're willing to do is recognize the fact that I haven't lied on my passport?"
  
  "Aye," Merada said uncomfortably. "Things have been a wee bit bad ever since the unworthy Earthborn came. But this also means they'll be sending escorts to take the lost ones back."
  
  "How nice of them," I said neutrally, choosing not to point out that these supposed deities weren't even bothering to send help until after the last minute. "Let's leave a team here and go free the rest of the people."
  
  It took a while to open all of the barred alcove doors in the other tunnel with just one key, but we did it. I had a few more blankets that I passed out, but truthfully I had already brought a hundred, and there were far more total captives than that. We just did what we could and used healing magic on the cold and sick prisoners.
  
  The last tunnel proved to be identical to the one we had just come from, jail room and all. These prisoners said that they were going to be traded to the Hoarfolk, confirming that the Malus Order had their hand in both upcoming disasters, and were probably responsible for having that Tumult arise in the first place. I doubted the proof was necessary at this point, though, so we just focused on making sure every rescued prisoner was stable and then spent the next tedious hour making sure every trap was disarmed in the tunnels leading out. We did find a couple more handfuls of gear, including some strange weapons and armor that looked like they were made out of ice. They were too cold to use, though, so I just loaded them into my now-roomier storage so that we could research them later.
  
  When Eadric and Val both declared the tunnels were safe, we carefully began to lead everyone out. Before we reached the tunnel leading outside it occurred to me and Breena that there might have been Horde out on patrol, or some other monster nearby, so we sent small fairy scouts outside to make sure our exit was safe.
  
  It turned out to be one of the smartest decisions all day.
  
  <Wes,> Breena hissed through the mindlink. <Cauliflower says there's some white-skinned creatures waiting outside the cave. They look impatient.>
  
  <Did she say what they look like, or how long they've been waiting?>
  
  <She's not sure how long they've been waiting, but she said they looked like a mix of creatures. Two beastlike things, and one regal-looking one that was just a little shorter than you. She could tell they were fey. She would have guessed they were Hoarfolk, but she's never actually seen one yet. It's not her turn to be out on the front lines.>
  
  <Sounds like a safe guess anyway,> I thought back. <Keep the civilians out of the tunnel for now, but you and Merada pick a team that will trail me just out of sight. We need to veil my features again so that they think I'm one of my own imposters.>
  
  At least I had that going for me. Rhodes' people had sent so many imposters down here that not even their own allies would expect that I was the real Malcolm.
  
  <I want to say that's a foolish idea,> Merada grumbled. <But that'll just mean I owe ye a bigger apology for later.>
  
  <Far be it for me to put undue strain on your conscience,> I said dryly, after I couldn't think of anything wittier to say. Teeth muttered about just what kind of apology we could expect and I ignored him again because I was tired of him acting like a horny teenager when we had a job to do.
  
  <But we are a horny tee—>
  
  I tuned him out before we could have another fight, and began walking briskly down the hall. I did my best to get into the mindset of a callous, lying, slave-trading asshole just before the entrance of the cave came into view.
  
  Three figures were waiting outside, just like the strangely named fairy said. The one on the left was a blue version of the stereotypical goblin I had killed in dozens of different games. He had a bald head with pointed ears and an ugly, misshapen face, and he was just half a foot taller than the average Horde Wretch. Probably served the same combat role as well, but the submissive way he crouched suggested that he was the errand boy of the group. The one on the right was a massive, shaggy beast, over seven feet tall and completely covered in white wool. Ram-like horns curled around a bear-like head that leered at me with far too many teeth. As the monster shuffled, his club scraped along the ground, and the thing looked to be at least as heavy as two Horde cleaver swords, and probably a good bit longer. He was clearly the muscle of the group, but the bored stance of all three Hoarfolk suggested that his presence was a mere formality.
  
  The middle of the group was a hair shorter than myself, and by far the most sophisticated. He wore white, clean-looking leggings, frosty blue boots, a long-sleeved snow-colored shirt, and a scale cuirass that looked to be made of icy crystals. The sheath of what looked to be a long, thin sword hung at his side. His face looked very much like the stereotypical elf's, arrogant and pointy-eared, with the exception that it looked white like uncolored art, save for a blue tint in his eyes and near the base of his hair. His arms were crossed, and he looked to be waiting impatiently.
  
  "Well?" he asked, and his voice was surprisingly harsh, sounding apathetic and annoyed. "Where are they? We've been waiting for them already."
  
  As he spoke to me, I felt my mind suddenly kick into overdrive as a rush of processing power surged straight to my brain.
  
  <The Challenger is entering negotiations with another official. The Leader Profession and Path of Kings are engaging to enhance his ability to negotiate.>
  
  "Waiting?" I snorted arrogantly. "You all just got here."
  
  I knew I was right. He couldn't have been here long or he would have already gotten suspicious. The Horde caverns echoed like crazy, probably a design feature. We had to walk them carefully or every step would announce our presence throughout the entire tunnel. There was no way this icy jerk was stupid enough to ignore the sound of me throwing lightning bolts and fireballs, or Eadric disarming traps the brute-forced way. In fact, if I hadn't sent a scout when I did he would have already heard a hundred rescued prisoners march their way down the main tunnel, crying and talking about their new freedom.
  
  "You're still supposed to have our prisoners ready by the time I arrive," the ice elf sniffed, his voice taking on a lofty air. "Is that really too hard for your people now?"
  
  "Well I don't know," I retorted, sounding just as arrogant. Mr. Jack Frost was already arguing with me, which meant this sort of exchange had to be a frequent occurrence. "It seems like there are a lot of things your people are supposed to have done by now. Management's wondering just how much of that is too hard for your people?"
  
  "What are you talking about, Earthborn?" the hoarfolk snapped, and I thought I heard ice break as he spoke. But I felt he was being defensive, instead of surprised, so I snorted in contempt.
  
  "We've already talked about this," I risked saying. "You know what numbers we want. You know you're not hitting them."
  
  Naturally, I was the one who didn't know what he was talking about. But I knew enough of Warren Rhodes' people to know that they were greedy, pushy, and constantly unsatisfied. They would have tried to wring everything they could out of their partners.
  
  "And you should know that your so-called numbers are nonsense!" the winter fey blasted vehemently, and I knew my guess had been right on the mark. "As we have told you before! We have driven the Woadfolk out of a full fifth of their territory! We are already marching ahead of schedule, and you know that! And if you want us to raise our palaces faster, then you had better be willing to provide triple the number of slaves you currently do!"
  
  "Triple," I snickered, crossing my own arms. "For this small amount of gain? Management would have my head. The last guy's already in trouble for just how badly you all have underperformed."
  
  "So that's what happened to him," Frosty the Snow-Bitch sniffed apathetically.
  
  "But I'll tell you what," I continued. "My bosses are more impatient than they are disappointed right now. They're prepared to offer a fifty percent increase of their usual shipment." My opponent's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he also leaned forward as I spoke. "If you can give me a meaningful exchange. Something that will make me and my own boss look good. So that I can avoid the other guy's fate."
  
  "I see," the pretentious popsicle replied. "We're making that sort of deal now. Such wisdom is long overdue."
  
  "Hell," I tossed, "if you could raise another palace tomorrow, I'd triple our usual offer."
  
  "Tomorrow is impossible and your leaders already know that," the hoarfolk replied effortlessly. "It doesn't matter how many different ways they ask. The next palace will already rise before the end of the current moon-month, even without your help. But triple the usual number would let us raise it within a fortnight, and allow us spare power to raise the next one even faster."
  
  "That's almost good enough," I said grudgingly, because that was already useful information and I probably needed to quit while I was still ahead. "Add something else good enough to sweeten the deal and my boss will let us both walk away happy."
  
  The winter fey stood still for a moment, and I did my best to do likewise. After another moment, he finally spoke.
  
  "Fine. I can arrange to teach you better methods to disarm and capture our smaller, softer kin. We've already said that they're useless to us and that you can have as many as you want. But if you can make this deal the new standard, then, when the time comes we will enable you to capture, instead of slay, Lady Titania. You can gain her power as well as use her for a bargaining tool against the Seelie Fey on every other world. We'll even let you have a portion of Mother Glade's power, though the rest of the Icon will still belong to us, as previously agreed. We will also provide you more of our magic and weapons to research, though I doubt you can improve on them like your own sages claim. The final caveat is that you never try to negotiate so foolishly with us ever again, or we will slay your next messenger outright."
  
  "As long as the next messenger isn't me, that's fine," I waved a hand dismissively. "Tell you what, I'll go tell them that you're going to set up your next palace in the Whitewall Woods…"
  
  "We are not," Snow White's more delicate brother interrupted, glaring at me. "Don't tell your leaders the wrong location on purpose. We're setting up the next palace near the Bear Tribe's Three-arm River. Your people should know by now rivers are the best location for our palaces." The frost fey's eyes narrowed further. "And the Whitewall Woods is a ridiculous location. Where are your escorts?"
  
  "Not needed," I said with a shrug. "This is our last day in this area, anyway. We've decided to move our base."
  
  "Why?" Frosty cocked his head even further, growing even more suspicious. I realized the only thing holding my cover was the fact that the real Wes Malcolm was supposed to be completely out of the picture. "There's plenty of potential prey for both our own purposes and your Hordebeasts."
  
  "Yeah, but we decided your assistance is no longer viable," I announced. "The Chaos Wound is producing better results anyway. We're ending our partnership with you."
  
  "Ending the partnership!" the ice man's voice boomed, and his civilized exterior cracked apart completely. His mouth twisted into a snarl, and one of his hands gripped his sword while the other summoned a ball of blue, cold fire. "DO NOT TOY WITH ME, HUMAN!"
  
  His voice was so loud it managed to ring my ears a little. The air around us grew cold, and the previously bored yeti creature snarled and began waving its club. The goblin-thing hissed but began creeping backwards, making itself as small a target as possible.
  
  <Get ready,> I sent to the team some distance behind. Janet Frost's performance was impressive, but the truth was that anyone on the same level as Felicia wouldn't have chosen to meet with anyone too dangerous. If this guy really was strong enough to overwhelm me and my team, his kind wouldn't have needed to partner with Rhodes in the first place.
  
  "Still not as impressive as what the Chaos Wound can do," I said with another shrug. "And unlike you, they're actually exceeding expectations—"
  
  "Who are you?" the ice fey asked, as the blue fire around his hand intensified.
  
  "The local Wes Malcolm, obviously," I said with a snort.
  
  "No," Frosty rebutted. "Who are you, really?" He took a step forward, and the cold air began to whip around violently. "You have not once addressed me by any name or title. Even the most arrogant Earthborn stationed here would not do that. And your Challenger imposters die far too frequently to be this coherent in conversations. Finally, you would never discuss such sensitive information as the progress of another Trial with another one of your allies of convenience. Tell me who you are, or I will kill you right now."
  
  "No you won't," I said calmly, shifting into a combat stance. "Negotiations are done." I summoned my Horde cleaver. "Get out of here, and tell your people that the Earthborn are done working with such incompetent creatures as yourselves. Otherwise I'm going to kill you."
  
  The hoarfolk's eyes widened realization as his intellect finally won control over his arrogance.
  
  "Sabotage," he hissed. "You're not with the Malus Order on Earth. You're a common enemy trying to disrupt our partnership with them. This location is compromised."
  
  <Attack,> I sent to Merada, and I rushed forward, gripping my cleaver with both hands.
  
  But French Vanilla Ice suddenly dispelled his blue fireball and snapped his fingers. A brief snowstorm erupted in front of his entire group, and by the time I rushed through it, he and his people had vanished into thin air.
  
  <Damn,> Merada sent to me. <I didn't know they could vanish like that.>
  
  <It makes sense,> I said as I sighed, digging my weapon into the ground. <He would have needed a way to transport his captives somehow. Do we have to worry about him teleporting back with help?>
  
  <No,> Breena sent. <They can only return to their closest palace in that fashion. He'll have to travel on foot or mount if he wants to get back here. I'm sorry, this power of theirs is supposed to be rare. Only their strongest nobles are supposed to be able to use it.>
  
  <Well, he clearly wasn't one of those or he would have captured and interrogated me instead of running from trouble,> I answered. <It ended well enough, anyway. He gave me timetables and names for locations.>
  
  <That he did,> Merada said. <Good job, Challenger.>
  
  <That was super sneaky, Wes!> Breena affirmed. <You would have fooled a normal sprite ten times over with that act!>
  
  <Great,> I thought, concerned, and seriously worried about how gullible Breena's fellow sprites were. Then I reflected angrily over the fact that as gullible as they were, the captured ones still didn't have an easier time of trusting me than the rest of the Woadfolk did. <At any rate, we need to get this information out to whoever needs it. Where is the Bear Tribe and the Three-Arm River that he mentioned?>
  
  <Some distance away,> Merada answered, but not impossibly far. <Ye arrived near the edge of Woadfolk territory, but most of our problems be on the edge as well. I've already had the fairies send word to their courts. We'll have to wait till the morning for help to arrive, but it should save us days or weeks of travel.>
  
  <Alright,> I sent back. <We should probably just take everyone to the local village for now. Can they meet us there?>
  
  <Aye, that's no problem.>
  
  Our trek back to the village went without incident. Our return was greeted with loud cheers. A sizable number of the elves and fairies we found had been from this village, and they rejoiced to hear that the Pit had been destroyed. The heal jellies confused them, but Ball-ee and I had saved too many lives back at the village for them to view either of us as a threat, so they just let it examine the sick and play with the children when they asked.
  
  I had apparently regained the locals' trust, and at a speed that left me a little guilty over how resentful I had felt earlier. The elves threw a simple but heartfelt party in my honor, and they made numerous cheers for the Woad Princess, the apparent revival of the Gaelguard, and above all, the return of the Challenger of Avalon. I danced with over a dozen women, girls, and fairies until Breena butted in and insisted I dance with her for the rest of the night. When I was finally able to excuse myself and sit down, Merada brought me a drink and a plate of bread, cheese, and roast venison.
  
  "Thank you," I said gratefully. <I'm starving,> Teeth growled in agreement. I had gotten hungrier since the dragon bonds, and I hadn't eaten for most of the day to begin with.
  
  "Ye're welcome, milord Challenger," Merada replied with a smile and a wink. "I figure this'll be worth one of the arrows I fired at ye."
  
  "Let me see how it tastes before I decide." I grinned good-naturedly as I took a bite of bread. "Oh, wow," I said with a full mouth, unable to help myself. "Thith ith deliciouth."
  
  "Glad ye like it." Merada grinned wider. "Elven food takes forever to cook, but when it's finished it's the perfect end to a long day."
  
  She brushed a brown lock out of her hair, and I noticed a slightly pointed ear. I blinked in surprise, but managed to finish chewing instead of immediately saying something stupid.
  
  "It's fine." She was still smiling. "I'm half-elven, half of the old strain of Woadfolk. Ye can comment on it. Me main body wanted to make a Satellite with the gifts of both races, but the truth is that the three folks of our world intermingle all the time. Doesn't bother anyone. What does bother people is me accent," she said with a grimace.
  
  "You mean you can't control that?" I asked after I swallowed. Teeth yelled at me to keep eating and to flirt with Merada at the same time.
  
  "Nay—no," she said with effort, frowning again. "There. That's as much as I can do. But it be built into me when Stell formed me. Let me grow up with a mixed loving family that always wanted a daughter, then gave me the best body she could, and an accent that people would take forever understanding."
  
  "Why did she do that?" I asked. "I mean, I hear a hint of some kind of Gaelic tone when people talk to me, but it's never as pronounced—and mixed—as when you speak. That seems like a silly mistake to make."
  
  "Aye. 'Twas," she answered me. "Have one of yer world's stories to blame. Stell saw one that took place nearly an Earth century ago, or a couple of centuries here on the Woadlands. It was one of those glowing picture stories your people watch on walls and boxes. Had a man in it with a big sword and a skirt that ran around screaming about his freedom. The others said she loved the story so much she spent a month trying to talk like the people in it. Even Breena threatened to strangle her if she didn't stop. She must've put that part into me when she crafted me genes."
  
  "Wait," I said. "You're the specific part of Stell that loves one of our most famous movies?"
  
  And that was the only comment I was going to make about that subject. Because Merada didn't need to hear that Stell had still gotten the accent wrong, somehow.
  
  "Aye, probably," the beautiful huntress muttered. "Doubt I'd have the same opinion if I saw it, though."
  
  "I like it," I said bluntly, because it was the truth.
  
  She turned to look at me, raising a brown eyebrow.
  
  "Really, now? Ye're not just saying that try and get into me leathers or something?"
  
  <It's a trap,> I said as I felt Teeth stir at that question.
  
  "If I couldn't stand the sound of your voice, I wouldn't even make it to leather-getting stage. I'd try not to talk to you at all. But your voice sounds musical and pleasant, so I wind up happy that I get to hear it after a long day. So don't get up and go away, yet," I said with a grin of my own. "In fact, give me five more minutes of conversation and I'll forgive another one of your attacks."
  
  Once spoken, those lines sounded way cheesier than they did in my head. But to my surprise, Merada threw her head back and laughed.
  
  "Oh, Icons, I've missed ye," she said after she finished. "Forgot how much fun a proper Earthborn could be."
  
  "Glad to know I'm one of the proper ones," I offered.
  
  "Oh, aye. And to think I actually get ye for two greater Challenges," she teased. "I know ye'll have work to do elsewhere afterwards, but I'll still take it."
  
  "Huh?" I asked, confused. "I thought your worlds always got a Challenger when a Tumult showed up?"
  
  "I be the youngest body of me other selves," Merada reminded me. "And 'till now there hasn't been a Tumult in the Woadlands for over three hundred years. Which means the last Tumult was before me time. So the only time I got to have a Challenger was when Stell sent them to the Woadlands to train on a few safer Challenges. And then they were off again. I usually got no more than an hour with them. Bit miffed that I've had to put up with over fifty years of the rotten ones."
  
  "Yeah, they're a pain," I muttered darkly, looking at one of the festival fires. The villagers were still dancing around, and as I looked I saw the three Testifiers get pulled into a circle. Karim took a pipe one of the men offered him, while Eadric had to deal with two little girls wanting to pull on his beard. I thought of all the damage Rhodes' people had tried to do this place, on top of what they had already done to me back home. "You should try growing up with them."
  
  "Too late and no thanks," the woad-painted woman said with a snort. "I'll settle for ye helping me clean up their mess."
  
  "Deal," I said, still watching the fires. Another crowd was gathering around Weylin. It looked like they were asking the elven Testifier to tell them a story.
  
  "Good idea, bringing those three, by the way." Merada nodded in the direction I was looking. "Testifiers carry weight in every world. Them traveling with ye will lend credibility with the leaders in the meeting tomorrow. Especially that young elven one."
  
  "Really?" I asked, interested. "They all led me to believe they were just junior-ranked."
  
  "They may very well be," the Satellite granted. "But their words will still carry some wait. Even the newest graduate of their colleges are learned historians and accomplished mages of at least one school of magic. And yer pretty-faced bard will carry even more respect, just because of his lineage. Do ye not know?" I shook my head, and Merada continued. "He be a second-generation Testifier. His mother and father be different races of elves, from different worlds. They were said to have made discoveries on every planet they visited, and they visited all of the known worlds."
  
  "I didn't know any of that," I said, blinking. "I mean, I've been impressed with them, asshole pranks notwithstanding, but they never claimed any fame around me."
  
  "Well, fifty years ago," Merada sighed, "yer status as a Challenger would have dwarfed anyone but the Icons, a few rulers, and the Steward of Avalon. Now, after all the trickery and atrocities they've done in yer name…" She winced. "Ye'll need every edge you can get." Then, as she looked out at the rescued elves, the Testifiers, and the Gaelguard, her face brightened. "Fortunately, ye brought plenty of it."
  
  "More than I've already shown," I said firmly, deciding now was a good time to share more secrets with a part of Stell.
  
  "Oh?' She turned to raise her eyebrows at me. "Do share."
  
  "For basic starters," I began, "emergency food and supplies. I didn't think to bring more than a hundred blankets, but I brought plenty of spare high-quality weapons and almost a thousand pounds of food."
  
  "How much?" Her eyes widened.
  
  "Avalon has a small population and plenty of natural resources," I explained. "We could do nothing but hunt and gather and we'd still have enough food to store for several winters. But we've also been able to use the planet's magic to create modified crops. But the real gift is probably the Woadfathers."
  
  "Did ye just say Woadfather?" Merada began blinking furiously. "Did ye just say the name of the ancestor tree that gave me world its name?"
  
  "Nope." I grinned cheekily. "I said the plural version. Look carefully," I said, quickly opening my hand before the woman attacked me again. I cupped my hand to where only she could see, holding two Woadfather seeds. "There was a whole grove of them hidden in a sealed part of Avalon." I quickly put the seeds away so that no one else saw them and started a drunken riot over them. "I brought a few other loose pieces of the plants as well, such as leaves, bark, and root."
  
  "Those trees are almost extinct," Merada breathed. "The only ones remaining are near the end of their lifespan, unable to produce seeds. And ye have how many of them?"
  
  "Many," I answered, because I honestly hadn't bothered to count every tree in that grove. "Several times more than the number of Gaelguard I brought. As I said, there was a whole grove of them. And I brought more than these two seeds."
  
  "And ye even mentioned that ye possess their sap," Merada breathed.
  
  "Yeah," I said. "I was hoping we'd have time to tattoo me with it, but I'm not sure we will."
  
  "I'd need close to a full day," Merada admitted. "Maybe even longer. But the seeds… ye're just going to give them to us?"
  
  "To you? Maybe," I answered. "I'd give you at least a couple if you asked me. But from what I gather, you act as a counselor and hero, not as one of this world's leaders."
  
  "Aye." Merada nodded glumly. "The Icons and a few chiefs be the ones with the main power. Stell didn't want to overstep."
  
  "Do you trust the current people and Icons in charge?" She gave a slow nod. "Do you trust them completely?" I persisted.
  
  She stopped nodding.
  
  "Do you agree with all of their choices," I asked next. She shook her head.
  
  "And have your concerns proven to be valid?" I asked finally.
  
  "Aye," she growled at me. "They do the right thing, as they see it. But they always consider what be right for themselves. They be afraid to risk a loss. Which be why I hadn't seen nearly as much combat as I should've."
  
  "What?" I asked, confused.
  
  "When the Dark Icons rose up fifty years ago, I helped turn the tide of the battle. I was outmatched by any one of them, but I was just strong enough to make a difference. But that fact scared all of the Icons. They kept me close, in case the Dark ones dared another attack en masse. But also, I believe, to keep me from becoming stronger than they were prepared for me to be." It was her turn to look darkly at the fire. "I've been held back from much of the larger battles, supposedly because they couldn't risk me. And we've lost most of those battles."
  
  "Do they even have a right to order you around?" I asked, incredulous. Merada gave a small nod.
  
  "In Stell's absence, and unless she takes direct control of me."
  
  "Wait, what?" I asked, confused. I supposed I'd earned it, though. I'd been throwing a lot of surprises at her.
  
  "I be a part of Stell, remember?" Merada reminded me. "She can re-link with me, though it cost her. She's had to do it several times over the years, and it made the difference we needed each time. But she hasn't done it at all in the last year. It's had me worrying about her."
  
  "I just saw her," I answered. "She's safe. I wish she had let you know I was coming."
  
  "I haven't seen her yet," Merada answered. "But if the time on Avalon has sped up again, then she may be still on her way to meet with us. But as a concession early on, Stell let the Icons have limited authority over me, to preserve their authority over their own world. It has led to some… conflicts," she finally said.
  
  "Like them not ever coming to Avalon's defense," I answered. Merada nodded reluctantly.
  
  "Right, then," I answered, rising to my feet. The party was winding down anyway, as the fire dimmed and people began walking to their homes or tents. "That gives me a good idea on how to take tomorrow's meeting. I should probably go get some sleep for tomorrow." I caught a couple of the younger maidens shoot me looks, and I realized that if things went a certain way, I might very well not get any sleep at all. "Merada? Can you show me where I'm sleeping tonight?"
  
  My voice carried enough for said maidens to gain frustrated, defeated looks and walk away. I was simultaneously relieved and disappointed.
  
  "Of course, big strong Challenger," the vibrant woman said with a wink as she hopped up and took my arm. "Right this way, if ye will."
  
  We began walking, and I tried to deal with the sensations of being touched again by a beautiful woman. It shouldn't have been so hard. But then, I shouldn't have been tortured or disabled either.
  
  Eventually, I was led into one of the hollowed-out tree houses. Merada opened the door to a small but furnished, comfortable-looking room, and stopped walking.
  
  "And this'll be all I'm doin' with ye tonight as well, sorry to say," she added. "Just in case ye were hoping things would move faster than they would."
  
  She said this in a playful, but firm voice, and I knew that she was being serious about that. Once again, relieved and disappointed at the same time.
  
  "Thank you for not having any nefarious designs on my precious chastity, fair lady," I answered.
  
  "Ye're welcome," she said with another wink. "But don't get too used to it."
  
  I wanted to act on that comment. But she walked away before I could finish sputtering. I sighed and headed for my bed.