Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy Five – 275
"Blood and ash," Kelgan cursed. "Look at the size of em."
"Makes your skin crawl," Karp said with a shiver.
"I once found one the size of my fist in my cupboard," Thangle added. His face was pale, almost matching his white beard. "That one nearly killed me with fright alone. I cannot even imagine..."
Before them was the Iron Gate, not three hundred strides away, a wall and gate twice the size of Tin Gate. However, it's defensive structure had nothing to do with the horror that had stricken many of their company. Giant, finger-thick webs coated the Gate, sealing it shut among a gossamer nightmare. Huge spiders crawled atop it, creatures twice the size of avum, busily hunting and killing any monster that roamed too close to their nest. Already, hundreds of bundled shapes were suspended atop the webbing, packed away in a funnel formation at the center of the wall itself.
"How are we gonna get through here, Lieutenant?" asked one of the guard.
Kelgan swallowed before turning around to his men, all of whom were transfixed by the sight of the arachnids. "Just trust that we will, Guardsman Klemin. Zara will see us through."
With fire. Lots and lots of fire, he silently hoped. He left his men and Thangle at the edge of their lookout position and returned to the center of their temporary encampment.
After the terrifying journey in the Dark Passages, Zara and the Hand had pushed them hard overland. It had taken them an entire day of ceaseless riding and Stamina Potions to get them here so fast, yet still they were too late. As before, the Inquisition had placed a high quality monster lure on this Gate and fled onward. Kelgan feared they might have already reached the next Gate; if they had, there was little chance of them catching the redcloaks without Zara's Night-cursed Passages.
The thought of it made his stomach do backflips. The insidious voices within that place had lingered in his ears for glasses after they'd fled, and even now the mere thought of it brought its sibilant cadence back. Kelgan shuddered and picked up his pace.
He found Zara at the very center of camp, sitting atop a mossy stone and stirring a long handled spoon in a large iron cauldron. Whatever was inside bubbled, though there was no fire to heat it, nor stands upon which the cauldron sat. Her bird, the weird one that talked, perched on her outstretched finger. The Naiad raised the bright bird up to her ear and nodded once, twice, before her face smoothed into an unreadable expression. "Kelgan. How may I be of service?"
Kelgan swallowed, muscling past his fear. "Ah, well, Lady Cyrene, the boys and I were all wonderin' how we were supposed to get through all...that," he said, gesturing back toward the Gate. "We've managed so far, but there's little chance our Iron Ranks can cut into those webs."
Zara exchanged looks with her birdweirdbefore allowing it to flutter off into the trees. "Keru was just informing me on the situation we find ourselves in. The Inquisition has lured a slew of Tier II monsters here, including a single Tier III beast." She stood up in a single smooth motion, her robes without a single rumple or stain. "Meanwhile, they have fled further and further ahead."
"I cannot sense them beyond the spiders," said a voice. Kelgan started, only to realize it was the Hand looming in the sunset shadows. "The redcloaks have left us long behind."
"All the more reason to chase after them now," Zara said.
Kelgan shifted his weight. "You mean...fight the Tier II spiders? Lady Cyrene, my people will be slaughtered. I can't"
"No no, not fight. I'll not lose your people on something so frivolous. Darius and I could clear the creatures, but not without disturbing the several hundred Tier I spiders lairing below." She shook her head. "No matter how we approach it, an assault leads to unacceptable losses on our side."
"Are you suggested we make a run for it," the Hand said. Kelgan couldn't see his face, but he heard a sneer in his voice. "Our mounts are blown. They're worth little without more rest, and most won't survive the strain of more running." He barked a short, guttural laugh. "We'll lose half our force."
"That is likewise unacceptable. I need all of you for when we've caught up to the redcloaks. I cannot hunt them all down myself, and none must be allowed to report to the Waystone. But the crux of our issue is this: Keru has told me that the Inquisition have not only pushed beyond the Iron Gate, but they've passed the Bronze Gate as well."
"What?" the Hand roared. Birds and chittering lizards fled the nearby trees. "How?"
Kelgan wondered the same thing. Had reports on their original positioning been off?
"Somehow, the redcloaks have gotten hold of two minor Manaships. Weak, Iron Rank craft, but it means they are racing toward Setoria as we speak."
The news was like one of Felix's grenades had been dropped in Kelgan's stomach. "Then we've failed."
The sentiment was echoed by a good number of the Haarguard, most of them veterans of the brief but intense fight for Territorial Authority. Each and every one of them walked to the cauldron, picked up the ladle and drank down the potion.
Many followed, but not all.
"This is a dark power!" A bald man with scars criss-crossing the top of his head stood at the front of the line and shouted out to the group. His voice was loud enough that Kelgan feared it'd push beyond the sound wards. "And this! This is an evil concoction!"
With a surge of movement, the man kicked over the nearest cauldron. The pot, suspended by nothing but air, tipped easily and splashed a large portion of its mixture onto the dirt before one of Kelgan's men stopped it. Scar-headJiron Kale, by his Analyzescoffed in the faces of the guards that crowded closer.
"I am not going back there. I would rather die a clean death against a thousand Dire Spiders than to disappear into the dark! Those pathways are evil, and none of you can deny it."
"He's right!"
"Don't drink it!"
Jiron stood taller, his equally-scarred chin thrust upward as he gathered support from a handful of men and women, Humans all.
"None of you are required to drink of the potion," Zara said from behind him. The bald man jumped in fright, as did the six others near him. Not even Kelgan had seen her approach. "Those who do not have the requisite Willpower to take on the challenges ahead are welcome to leave."
"Leave?" asked one of the guards with Jiron, a man with shaggy sideburns and two short swords at his hip. "And go where?"
"Wherever your two feet can take you," Zara said. Her face betrayed not a hint of emotion, but her eyes blazed with aquamarine light. "Your avum stay with us."
"What? Outrageous!" Three of the guards pressed closer, and Kelgan motioned to his own men.
This has gone on far enough.
"If you dare touch your weapons, you'll be dead before they clear the sheath," he growled. His spear hovered a finger span away from Muttonchop's throat. "Try me."
"Kelgan, it's fine. If they wish to stay, they can," Zara said. "But they will be forfeiting all rank and standing in Haarwatch, and they will walk from here, alone."
All seven dissenters blanched, though Jiran's face soon flushed with belated fury. Yet even the idiot could read the lay of the land as all of the company stared him down. With a shaking, unwilling hand, he picked up the ladle from the ground and took his dose. The others all followed suit.
Kelgan didn't relax his grip on his spear until his people were organized into a formation four deep. The potion was starting to take effect, which was rather eerie to see. His guards were moving and responding to commands just as they did normally, but their faces were curiously empty. It was like watching a pitcher of ale being slowly poured out, until there was nothing left. Kelgan, Thangle, Karp, and Vivianne all passed the prerequisite for Willpower, as did a handful of common ranked guards. Those got the priviledge of marching at the front of the line, while the upper ranks took the rear. Kelgan was insistent about that.
I'm not losing anyone again, he promised himself. I'll stab the monsters in their giant eyes first.
Unlike before, Zara led them to a cliff face riddled with small crevices. She let out a sound that was a mixture of a falcon's cry, a distant babbling brook, and the cold certainty of the coming winter. Parts of him he never knew he had cringed and exulted at the sounds. It was like his ears had taken a bite of a kellfruit, and they puckered at its sour rind before sighing at its sweet interior. He was not a fan.
The cliff face cracked open, thunder on a clear night, and the usual, earth-scented darkness yawned before them. Yet as they marched within, the Passage crackled and howled. It felt like they walked into a storm. The dark swirled, black on black, as writhing aquamarine light lashed it into submission. Chaos, followed by sudden, absolute order.
"Keep moving," Zara said. Her voice was light, but there was sweat on her brow. "We must move as fast as we are able."
"You heard her," the Hand said from the front. "Double march."
