Chương 60: 8 The War Room

There is no pain in the empty. Hurt requires contrast. The Empty does not lie about significance. It does not promise triumph. It does not threaten failure. It does not pretend purpose. These thoughts assailed me as I woke in my chambers in the Gravehold citadel, the despair every bit as tangible as the heat at Scorched Rock. It had been a scramble to get my goggles back on, and even those did little to help me find myself. The yellow lenses weren't enchanted. They didn't give a definable buff.

They only hinted at warmth and suggested a splash of color. It was up to my mind to make up the rest.

"Boss!" Needles said, boots clicking as he jogged up to meet me. I glanced down.

"Creepy place," he said simply.

"Be careful who you say that around," I said.

"Our hosts have ears everywhere." The Goblin shrugged.

"Shads, Vamps—they'd probably take it as a compliment." I rubbed my temple. The retention band on my goggles built pressure in my head, causing an ache behind my eyes.

"The Kobolds are getting antsy," Needles explained.

"Good, that means they're healthy."

"Well." The Goblin folded his arms and glanced over his shoulder.

"What does that mean about Othess? He hasn't been wearing his goggles."

"Really? Has his behavior changed?"

"Not even a little."

"Monitor him. Report anything notable."

"You got it, boss." He sniffed.

"What do you have for us today?"

"Run drills three and four," I said.

"Just a review. Nothing heavy. Then take the rest of the day off, but stay close. I suspect we're going to go operational soon."

"What about you?" I glanced down the black halls, basalt and iron twisted in dark artistic harmony.

"Mission brief. No alcohol. I need you guys ready."

"Disappointing, but fair." Needles frowned as he glanced over his shoulder at a Shad scrivener.

"Hey, watch Clod in the kitchen," I added.

"He's going to try to sneak something sweet. Make him run laps if he does." Needles grinned.

"Oh, he'll hate that."

"And until he can pull his own weight, he's got a lot to work on. I'm not watching him die because of something we could have fixed. He slows the whole squad. I can't have that."

"Sure thing." Naomi crossed at a T-junction ahead, eyes locked forward.

"Got to go," I said.

"Keep them out of trouble." I jogged after my team leader.

"Hey!" She glanced over her shoulder as I caught up.

"Everything all right?" Her jaw tightened.

"The walls have eyes. Everyone's watching me. Measuring me. The expectations, Tony. They're killing me."

"Hey, you just let me know what you need. I'm ready."

"Thanks, really," she said, nodding to a Vampiric woman in a blood red gown as she passed.

"Come on," I said.

"You've put up with my family drama. I owe you."

"Just report your observations," she said.

"My stepfather and brother are making obvious attempts to curry favor with me."

"Do you think their intentions are malicious?"

"Not inherently," she glanced down a hallway.

"Let's see. War room's this way." We turned left.

"Hey, how are the whispers?" I asked, instantly regretting the question. She was already juggling enough problems. Why'd I have to bring another one up right now? Dathurul, an ancient entity and deity to the Deep Folk, had sent a psionic who had infected her with some sort of psychic curse or virus. It enabled Dathurul to whisper to her from a distance.

"I—told the High Family," she said at length.

"You did?" I asked, surprised. She nodded.

"After he took control—I couldn't put my team at risk."

"What did they say?"

"I have to report every whisper. I undergo periodic neural evaluations." She scratched her neck just below her collar.

"Granduncle sees this as an opportunity to gain insight into Dathurul's plans, but he's approaching it cautiously." She chewed her lower lip for a moment.

"I'm lucky he's letting me operate at all."

"Has Dathurul—" I cut off.

"No. He hasn't been able to take over. I think he was physically near at Highwater Cay."

"You're also getting stronger. Soon you'll banish his influence entirely."

"Tony." I glanced over.

"Whatever I've got in here—" she tapped her temple.

"I think Puppetmaster has it too." My head tilted, my brow climbing.

"It's what started him on his path to tearing the sky down. The Bloodwake now fully backs your father; the countdown, breaching the seal—it was originally Dathurul's plan."

"And now Dathurul and the Bloodwake are at odds," I concluded.

"Did I ever tell you that a Daggonite priest saved me at the dig site?"

"What? Why?" Naomi asked. I shrugged.

"Enemy of my enemy. My connection to you makes me an indirect investment. Maybe he knew I'd hunt my father."

"I don't like it. Any of it." The war room doors opened ahead of us, and Naomi hesitated. I turned.

"You good?" She caught my wrist and pulled me into a side alcove.

"Tony, listen. My mother—she's ambitious. Dangerously so. Lord Bloodshackle is a formidable politician, but she's the real schemer. Don't assume she holds our best interests just because she's my mother."

"Uh, okay?" I said.

"As far as politics go, she's worse than Uncle Bruk, and just as bad as Aunt Tansey. You asked what you could do. I need you to understand this. She's planning something, something with my stepfather."

"What kind of thing?" I asked.

"No idea, but there are those in the High Family that are moving to ensure it never happens. I think—" She cast a cautious glance behind her.

"I think it has something to do with Granduncle." The edges of stone walls seemed to sharpen, their dark surfaces drinking the already dwindling light.

"You want me to find out?"

"Jorg, no. Tony, you're a warrior, not a politician. You will lose this game. I just—" She exhaled, gathering her thoughts.

"If anyone interacts with you directly, it's for a purpose. Ask yourself what they want. What could they possibly get out of you?"

"Hey, I am your loyal pawn. I don't know anything. I'm just an idiot who chops things with my sword."

"Be careful, Tony. I need you ready."

"Just give the word, and I'll get to stabbing." Her face softened for a moment.

"Thank you—for everything."

"Hey, I'm your humble idiot with a sword."

"No," she said.

"You're decisive action that I can count on." She exhaled a final time, then tugged the bottom of her vest.

"Ready?"

"Let's do this." We returned to the hall and entered the war room. Naomi's mother, Leonardo and his son, Captain Corvelli, Capitano Generale Greymark, and other officers and staff crowded the space. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings. On our side, the rest of the party and Elara gathered. After Naomi's warning, I felt eyes on me. I saw their calculations. I heard their unasked questions. Why did we enter together? What was I to Naomi? Her right hand.

An aide. A lover. Each possibility presented a different angle of leverage. I waited behind my seat at the wide, black iron table. Corin stepped to my side, studying the room. Bianca waited next to him. She smiled at me, amber eyes gold through her lenses. I tossed her a casual salute. Candlelight and Vampiric waltzes pierced the grey. We'd spent most of the party together. The memory did more to combat the cold than the goggles ever did. Lord Bloodshackle cleared his throat.

"Please be seated." Iron chairs grated against stone as we settled into our places.

"By way of agenda, Greymark will brief our visitors on the current situation with the Burrow King. Then, Cousin Antonio will brief us on Puppetmaster's movements in our region." The Vampire lord leaned onto the table, his splayed fingers whitening against the tabletop.

"Then I will present our operational response plan." He shifted and nodded to the Capitano Generale. Greymark rose, his polished breastplate dented and scarred from use.

"My queen, if I could trouble you for the map." His dual-toned voice twisted in discordant harmony. Aunt Myrkrath waved a hand, and an illusion of rolling mounds coalesced across the map.

"The Burrows," Greymark introduced.

"This is the largest contested territory on Fel Rock. The Burrow King, Marrowrend, rules from underground. His ghouls hit patrols and run before we can summon a proper reaction force." I nodded, studying the hills. That was exactly what I'd do if I had a smaller force. Naomi's mother crooked a finger. The opacity drained from the illusory hills. Gold lines snaked into the mounds.

"These are the tunnels we've mapped so far. Accurate as of three days ago," Greymark continued.

"The Ghouls constantly dig and collapse paths, making navigating the network a challenge." The Wight scanned the table.

"Make no mistake, in the burrows the enemy holds the advantage. However, in the last two months, they've launched six attempts to breach Zalathor's crypt. Each one has resulted in heavy Ghoul casualties."

"That's because the crypt is impenetrable," Prince Lucian interrupted.

"Let them try. By rot, we kill more of the savages there than we do in the hills." I eyed the Vampire prince, trying to take his measure.

"That was before Puppetmaster turned his eye on Fel Rock," Naomi challenged.

"King Marrowrend never presented a real threat. The Bloodwake does."

"Let's move on," Aunt Flavia said, shifting to me.

"What do we need to be worried about?" Greymark settled into his seat, breastplate clicking against steel. I cleared my throat and rose.

"I've been hunting Puppetmaster's agents for the past month," I said, the acoustics in the room carrying my voice.

"My father's objectives tend to revolve around speeding up the countdown timer. He wants the sky shattered, and Granduncle dead, and he doesn't want to wait." My gaze swept across the table.

"It seems his focus has shifted. The Bloodwake prepares for war. They don't want Fel Rock to respond to a coalition threat. They know the hazard Zalathor would pose to your nation. Our working theory is that he'll try to free the lich, thereby binding your hands." Lord Bloodshackle cleared his throat.

"Do we have any intel indicating Puppetmaster has been in contact with King Marrowrend?" I shook my head.

"No, my lord. That's merely a fair assumption. My father is the Puppetmaster. Others are tools he knows how to exploit." I shifted to Greymark.

"Have you discovered any evidence of Bloodwake agents on Fel rock?"

"Not yet," the Wight commander said.

"Good," I said.

"Hopefully, that means we've beaten them here."

"I've already had the crypt's defenses fortified," Aunt Flavia said.

"I'll have them reinforced again."

"That's a good call, Your Majesty. But my father leans on unconventional methods. We'll be lucky if we see it coming."

"Fortunately, Uncle Lance Coralfin is nearby investigating anomalous behavior from the Undertide," Naomi said.

"I strongly advise that we call upon him for support." The corners of Aunt Flavia's eyes tightened.

"I think the entire might of Fel Rock will be sufficient to stop Puppetmaster's Plot." I looked up abruptly. I was missing something. Why wouldn't she want additional aid?

"Mother, if we had you and an Uncle, our chances—""The High Family already sent us aid," the Queen said.

"She sent us you. Winter. Do you not think your services will be sufficient to combat the threat?"

"I think redundancy would be wise," Naomi said through clenched teeth.

"Lance is busy already," Flavia waved a dismissive hand.

"Let him chase his ghost ship." Leonardo cleared his throat and stood. I settled back into my seat. Clearly lacking the context to pick up on their undertones.

"If Puppetmaster is going to use the Burrow King in his scheme, the obvious answer is a preemptive strike." He waved at the map, and the entrances to each of the tunnels flashed with red dots.

"With Winter's aid, we'll hit every opening we know. Hand-picked strike teams. Then we flood the hill with soldiers." I cut in.

"I worry that would be the exact moment my father strikes," I said.

"When most of our might is committed elsewhere. He could be using the Burrow King as a distraction."

"A wise objection," Queen Flavia said.

"I'll personally join the crypt defenses during the operation. He's not getting past me." My forefinger rapidly tapped on the table. Somehow, I just knew—whatever we did, we'd be playing into his plan.

"Your Majesty, with all due respect. He managed to use Prisoner's Retaliation on Granduncle. I worry about your safety."

"Amusing—" she said, in a voice that said otherwise, "that you assume you'll do better against him than I."

"What? No, I—""Perhaps a recess," Leonardo suggested.

"We have the facts, let's take an opportunity to consider them." Chairs scraped on stone, and figures hurried to group together. I found Naomi. Bianca, Corin, and Elara completed the circle.

"What's going on?" I asked, glancing over at the Queen, who watched officers scurry like roaches.

"Why is she refusing Lance's help?"

"Credit," Naomi said simply.

"Mother isn't in a sharing mood."

"What?" I hissed.

"This is Puppetmaster!"

"Who is also many levels lower than her. Be careful what you suggest, Tony. She finds implications of vulnerability or weakness insulting."

"I'm going to go see where the Capitano Generale's head's at," Corrin said, glancing over his shoulder. Gaming the crowd.

"And that brother of yours seems thick-headed. Let's see if I can't build some rapport with him." He peeled off, leaving me feeling like a reeling toddler.

"What do you need from me?" I asked.

"Nothing," Naomi said quickly, glancing from me to Bianca.

"You two haven't been trained for this. Just—" she sighed, eyes locking on her mother.

"Stay put. I need to have a talk." She stepped away, leaving me with Bianca.

"I thought this was supposed to be a recess," Bianca said, scanning the room.

"Everyone's working three times as hard." Murmured conversations droned like battle cries, and glances loaded with implication shot across the war room like arrows.

"Apparently, this is where the actual work happens," I said, hopelessly lost among the 'grown-ups.' My hand flexed, itching to draw my sword, but this was the wrong kind of battle.

"Well, I guess we just wait," Bianca said, scratching her jaw. Then she stiffened.

"Uh, oh. Incoming." I followed her gaze to find Lord Bloodshackle moving right at us.

"Antonio," he said, smiling politely.

"I was hoping to have a word with you." Without waiting for a reply, he grabbed my shoulder and steered me away from Bianca. Corin detached from Greymark and hurried over to Prince Lucian, who was already speaking to Elara in low tones. The motion and noise of politics amplified the ache behind my eyes.

"Tell me, Antonio," the Vampire lord said.

"You might be the only half-Human, half-Drake-kin in the World Archipelago."

"What?" I shook my head.

"No, my lord—""Please, call me Leonardo."

"Leonardo," I said, confused as to the relevance of our discussion.

"I have a sister."

"Yes, indeed," he said, too fast to suggest genuine interest.

"Yet from appearances, you're mostly human." His pink eyes locked onto the scales on my face.

"I was under the impression Humans and Drake-kin were an incompatible breeding pairing." I surrendered. I couldn't hope to follow his intent; best to just keep things casual.

"Puppetmaster was under the influence of a powerful transmutation when he infiltrated Paradise. Physically, he was human. The scales on his children nearly blew his cover."

"I see," Leonardo said.

"Family, it's all so complicated." He shifted, turning towards Naomi.

"Listen, I'm attempting to bridge the gap between my stepdaughter and me, but I'm sensing a certain," he considered.

"Coldness from her. Did I do anything wrong? Has she said anything about me, perchance?" There it was. I shrugged.

"You've known each other for what, a day? Stuff like that takes time." He nodded.

"Of course you're right. I envy you, Antonio; you've had the time to build a proper relationship with her. I rest easy knowing she keeps a man of your talents close."

"I don't know about that," I said.

"In terms of level, I'm still relatively low." He waved a dismissive hand.

"Levels, systems, none of that makes you special. I'm talking about your progress. You keep yourself busy. Your focus is a trait to be desired. I'm glad to have you on my side, Antonio." His side? Every word was deliberate. Conditioning me to play a role. I smiled with my lips only.

"I'm here to serve."

"Good, good." He squeezed my shoulder.

"Leonardo," I said, finally bringing myself to try my hand at the game.

"Yes?" I glanced out the window. The breaches weren't visible from my point of view, but I knew they'd be there.

"My father's plans trouble me. Every day I see the countdown, reminding me that he must be stopped."

"And one might argue you're the only one doing your part to stop him."

"Yes," I said softly.

"But what if we can't get him in time? What if the clock strikes zero and Granduncle dies?" I met his eyes.

"What happens to Fel Rock without Granduncle?"

"Ah," Bloodshackle said.

"I suppose that would depend on who succeeded Granduncle in Paradise."

"And if Naomi's mother took that mantle?"

"It would be convenient for us," he said plainly. Then, glancing over his shoulder, he lowered his voice.

"Don't let the clock trouble you, young Antonio. We are not in the habit of allowing our pillars to collapse." He straightened.

"Granduncle will endure. So long as Fel Rock stands." He inhaled.

"I need to touch base with Captain Corvelli. We'll chat shortly." And he was gone, planting new seeds in another vessel. Bianca wandered over.

"What was that about?"

"I think he wants me to spy on Naomi," I said.

"Or at least put in a good word for him."

"Did you get anything good in return?" Naomi asked.

"I—I don't know," I confessed, trying to sus through the implications.

"He's not worried about the clock. That concerns me. I'm missing something." The Queen called the war room back to attention, then she turned the floor over to her daughter.

"We proceed as planned," Naomi said.

"We strike the Burrows. Kill the Burrow King." She shifted, nodding to her mother.

"The Queen will protect Zalathor's crypt. No weakness. No vulnerabilities." Then she shifted to me.

"Tony, I know you're worried about Puppetmaster. So I'll leave it to you. You can join my mother at the crypts if that's where you think he'll be. Or you can aid me at the burrows." All eyes turned to me, and the pressure of their scrutiny pressed on me, but I didn't wilt. Where would Puppetmaster show himself— I caught the look in Naomi's eye. The way her lips tightened. I'd come to Fel Rock to find Puppetmaster, but she had asked me for my help. I cleared my throat.

"I'm confident in Queen Myrkrath's ability to hold the crypts," I announced.

"I'll join you at the Burrows." Naomi's chin tilted in a nearly imperceptible nod. A thin smile slid across Aunt Flavia's lips. Leonardo hummed to himself softly, as if drawing new conclusions. I turned my attention back to the map and the gold lines highlighting the tunnels. I tracked each red dot marking the entrances of the passages. Soon, I'd be assigned to one. I hoped I'd chosen the right battlefield. <<Time to Seal Collapse: 02: 01: 00: 03: 32: 27>>