Chương 64: 12 Heave High—We Die

She was gone. I glanced down at the bare dirt that had held a full throne only moments before. I slammed a fist into the pit that I'd been digging. Stones split my knuckles as my frustrated groan echoed through the chamber.

"Antonio," Serevian cut in.

"We have bigger problems now."

"Sergeant?" Corporal De La Cruz shook Roland. The bald marine stirred, a pained moan slipping from his lips. Drogo picked up Needles.

"Breathing," he announced. Wet warmth dripped from my knuckles. Serevian was right. I had wounded men. I had to triage. I slipped a health potion from my belt and started for Needles.

"Will he kill her?" Serevian paced with me.

"You'd better hope so." Something tore within, something deep. Why had I come back? Once again, the moment I got involved, they got hurt. I banished the fallacy as I checked Needles for blood. A large bump welled on his crown.

"Give him this," I handed Drogo a health potion.

"He won't like it. The Bloodwake doesn't make their potions go down as easily as Paradise stock. Make him." I looked him over one last time, determining he would be okay. On the other wall, the corporal had woken Roland. The young man swept his hands along Roland's limbs, scanning each of them in turn. When he got to the leg, his fingers came back red.

"I've got blood!" I hurried over, drawing a second potion—four left after this. I dropped to a crouch, uncorking the red and orange elixir. Roland blinked, clutching his leg.

"Where's Cousin Romano?" he asked. My lips tightened.

"Gone." Corporal De La Cruz cut the cloth away from the wound. The cut was shallow, but a massive bruise swelled purple beneath the skin. I pressed the potion into his hand.

"Drink only half."

"Half?" the corporal asked.

"Is that enough to get him walking?"

"You're taking the other half," I said. The corporal's head tilted in confusion. I reached over, grabbing his neck. He inhaled sharply, swatting my hand away. I splayed my fingers, displaying the blood I'd swiped off his skin. His eyes went wide, and he clapped a hand to the long scratch.

"Did you hear what Thashkor said?" Serevian asked, rubbing his knee.

"At the end there."

"He said the Bloodwake Giant had been right about everything," I said, attention drifting back to where the bone chair had vanished.

"What Giant?" Serevian asked. I had no answer. Corporal De La Cruz accepted a half-drained vial from Roland.

"He also said—" he searched his memory.

"Something about our leaders being consolidated." He glanced up at the brood lights.

"I think they've walked into a trap up there."

"We need to warn them," Serevian said, scanning the chamber. Othess limped forward, dozens of scratches from skeletal fingers bleeding through his scales.

"Right, warn them," he sniffed indignantly.

"In case you haven't noticed, we've been buried alive."

"You can warn them," I said, dropping to my knees at one of the collapsed tunnels. I drew a double handful of dirt and stones away.

"I'm going for Bianca."

"Yeah?" Serevian asked, scoffing.

"And just how are you planning on doing that?" I tossed another stone aside, opening the way for more dirt to pour through. I paused.

"Find a Ghoul. Make him talk." The Feykin folded his arms.

"I can get us out of here." I turned. I couldn't go after Bianca trapped down here.

"But we need to prepare Lord Bloodshackle for whatever they're planning. We don't have much time." I stood. Serevian plucked at the string of his bow.

"Once we've gotten our forces to safety, then I'll help you find your friend." My right hand tightened into a fist, the wrist scar itching.

"Fine," I said.

"Get us out." He glanced up.

"Brood lights are only partially subterranean. They have breathing reeds that poke out on the surface." Roland picked himself up, testing his weight on his leg.

"That's got to be solid stone up there," Othess said, squinting into the bioluminescence. Needles coughed, choking on health potion as he jerked to consciousness. I drew out a health potion. Three left.

"Good thing my sapper just woke up." I uncorked and took a long drag.

"Good," Serevian said, nodding.

"Assuming the Goblin can get through it, we just need to find a way to reach the roof." I extended the rest of my potion to Othess. He accepted with a pained grimace. We could have downed the rest of them. But if we were really walking into a trap, I'd conserve for when the potions could save lives.

"How about your magic platforms?" Serevian said.

"Can you get us up there?" I stooped before the Bane Thesis, plucking the blade from the dirt.

"Air Steps, not magic platforms, and I'm at seven mana. That's seven steps." I slid the blade into a steel ring on my belt. Stowing it in inventory would cost.

"Air Steps only work for me, and I can't stand on them. They only appear for an eye blink."

"Hmm," Serevian said.

"We could wait for your mana to return." He shook his head.

"No, we don't have time." He turned a slow loop.

"We use pitons and loops to scale the wall." I stopped before Needles.

"You ready?" I asked. Drogo set the Goblin down. Needles rubbed his head, wincing. The goose egg on his brow was already going down.

"Yo-yo?" he guessed.

"Yo-yo," I confirmed. My hand lowered. He hopped up, catching my palm and crawling into the crook of my elbow like a baby.

"I hate this," he murmured. A sickle blinked into my hand. Six mana. I hurled Hook, my right-handed blade. It spun twice before its enchanted point sank deep into the stone. My hand flexed. A golden thread flickered, and I zipped up. We sped toward the ceiling, slowing and coming to a stop six inches below the anchored sickle.

"Show off," Serevian murmured from below. The sickle slipped two inches, and I cursed.

"Yeah, I know!" Needles said, climbing me like a tree.

"Hurry." I could have sworn he put his boot on my eye on purpose. He caught hold of a mucous membrane and looped a cord around it. Dangling from his harness, he produced a small pick and began carving out a hole. The Hook slipped another inch, and I gritted my teeth.

"I'm good. Go down!" Needles said, packing a clay ball into the hole. I descended on a golden thread. The moment my feet touched the ground, I jerked the line. The blade dropped, reeling until it snapped into my palm. A minute later, Needles struck a fuse.

"Catch me!" He didn't wait for confirmation. He plummeted. I swore, using his trajectory shaft to line up my catch. Thirty-five pounds wasn't much until you had to catch it from a thirty-foot drop. He slammed into my arms, nearly bearing me to the ground.

"Cover!" he gasped. I took two long strides before throwing myself down. My hands barely had time to cover my head before the cavern bucked with a roar. Dust and stones pelted me. Something warm and viscous splattered me, soaking me from crown to boot. I waited for the sound of falling stones to stop before I turned. My other team members picked themselves up. Every single one of us was absolutely drenched in bioluminescent brood light innards. Corporal De La Cruz retched, then spat.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Needles whipped the mucus from his brow, then licked it off his fingers. He shrugged, unimpressed. A new pit yawned in the ceiling, stars shining through. The sky! Instantly, I opened a channel to the team and added Aunt Myrkrath. <<Tony: Trap at the burrows. If anyone can reach Lord Bloodshackle, tell him to pull back! >> Blessedly, it went through.

"Can you get us out of here?" Roland asked.

"No time!" Serevian called.

"Antonio, come back for us after you get to the ground force." My second sickle winked into my left hand. He and I had been thinking the same thing. Hesitating for only a moment, I glanced at the ground where the bone throne had been. I took a step back, then hurled both sickles. They anchored to either side of the pit. I pulled, and spectral filaments launched me up like a slingshot. A trajectory path shot up before me, showing that I'd clip the hole's edge. My spine straightened slightly, my shoulder dipping.

The Trajectory Read shifted, and I shot into the night air. I hung suspended in the air for a beautiful moment. My eyes closed, accepting the wind's embrace before I dropped. I twisted as I fell, jerking my lines. The blades detached, snapping back into my hands. Either I was getting better at controlling them, or they were coming to understand the difference between anchoring and returning. A trajectory shaft flashed, and a black arrow zipped past me.

I landed lightly from a distance that should have shattered bones. Two more trajectory shafts lit me up.

"Hold!" I barked.

"It's me!" Shadows approached me, still glowing with grub guts. A Wight stomped up to me, a squad of skeletal warriors marching behind him. A Shad ranger rushed over to me.

"Cousin," she said, arrow nocked to string.

"I'm Ranger Kaevra Ashfen. How goes the battle below?"

"Bloodshackle!" I snapped.

"Now!" She didn't question me; spinning, she sprinted. I followed. The shadows seemed to swallow her, and I nearly lost track, but she ran fast enough to cast a short trajectory path. My mana had ticked back up two points by the time we found the command squad. A Shad necromancer turned to us. A squad of Vamps tensed at our urgency. A line of skeletal archers fired arrows into a hollow where Ghoulish shrieks responded.

"Lord Bloodshackle!" I called. The Vampire lord turned. Capitano Generale Greymark stepped beside him.

"Antonio," Bloodshackle said, black armor swallowing light. He easily gripped a double-handed great sword in a single palm.

"Great news, we've secured the surface. We've got a pack of them cornered in the canyon."

"That's great," I said.

"We need to run!" Greymark scoffed, voice two-toned and baleful.

"We've won on the surface. Now we need to purge the nest once and for all. Did you find the Burrow King?"

"No, Thashkor the shaman was waiting for us instead," I panted.

"The nest was almost empty. The Bloodwake's been here." A Vampire mage stepped up to the circle.

"My Lord, a sending from the Queen. She says she's seen no sign of the enemy, but that—" He glanced at me.

"Cousin Antonio warns of a trap."

"If the Ghouls aren't here, and they're not at the crypt, then where are they?" Lord Bloodshackle asked. Greymark's burning white eyes flared with blue fire.

"And if this is a trap—where is the trap?" Then I heard it. A call-and-response chanty on the air. Heave, ho—We go. Heave High—we die. Heave, ho—We go, Heave High—we die. I turned toward the noise. So did the others. Heave the line—there's foes ahead. The ship comes crewed by the dead. Something boomed. A cannon. Shads flinched, taken aback by the anomaly.

"Redeploy!" Greymark called.

"Platoons Three, Five, and Six!" Bone warriors split off from the back lines, rushing to form ranks before the command team. I gripped the Bane Thesis tight. What was this? Had the Ghouls somehow gotten their hands on artillery?

"Ready!" Greymark called. Arrow shafts slithered against wood as skeleton warriors pulled their bows tight. Rise up, lad—come grip the rail. Undertide, where drowned men sail. A translucent jade-green mast peaked over the hill, rising as if riding a wave. I stepped back. My throat tightened— And the full ghostly war galley sliced across the earth immaterially. Spectral forms crowded the deck. Pirates, Paradise marines, Wake privateers.

Unbound by the laws of nature, unbent to the wind, the ghost ship cut a sharp curve. Gun ports snapped open, and trajectory shafts ignited our forces.

"Loose!" Greymark bellowed. Two hundred black shafts spat at the heavy frigate. My hope soared. The arrows rained down on sailors, snapping through them as if they had been made of fog. A figure leaned at the helm, the whole ship tilting with his body. It was a Drake-kin in a Paradise Navy uniform and a tricorn. I didn't need to ask to know his name. Captain Alonso Vale. Nearly twenty lighthouse beams swept our undead army as they set up a broadside. I threw myself down.

"Fire!" Captain Vale cried from the ghost ship. Spectral artillery boomed, and immaterial shots whistled through the air. Only, they weren't truly immaterial. The ground heaved. Bones shattered. A Vampire screamed, and earth geysered. My hands tightened on the back of my neck as dirt rained down on me. Only after the debris stopped falling did I chance glancing up. The broadside had devastated the ranks. A column of bats re-clustered, forming back into Lord Bloodshackle.

"What's it doing here?" he snarled, his fangs elongating. Greymark whirled.

"Cold iron weapons to the front!" Only the Undertide had looped around, bearing the guns on her starboard side. The trajectory cones of the second broadside illuminated not the ground forces but the command crew in the back. I shielded my eyes from the trajectory light that no one else could see. That was right, I was staring down the barrels of at least three cannons.

"Mage, shields!" Greymark snarled. I didn't chance the shields. I spun, hurling a sickle. Hook slammed into a dried, long-dead tree. The line whisked me away right as the guns thundered. I briefly caught a glimpse of Greymark as a ghost cannonball blasted his top half to powder. Lord Bloodshackle disappeared as a ball impacted his shoulder. Vampires screamed, Feykin Rangers died, and I slammed full force into a tree. I spilled to the ground before whirring and tearing my sickle from dead wood.

Lord Bloodshackle plucked himself from a crater. His bare shoulder peeked through the armor where the pauldron had been blasted away. He spat blood.

"Sharpshooters!" Feykin melted from the shadows.

"My lord!" Kaevra Ashfen, the ranger who'd led me to him, called.

"We each only have one cold iron arrow!" Bloodshackle thrust his sword forward.

"Then every one of you aims for Captain Vale." The Drake-kin captain leaned hard. The ship swung around smoothly, as if skating over ice rather than pushing through waves. Trajectory shafts arched, all aligning on the Ghost captain within seconds. Rangers squinted down their arrow shafts, making their final adjustments.

"Loose!" Kaevra cried, and arrows snapped forward. Captain Vale's head snapped in the direction of the missiles. He spun the wheel hard. The Undertide tilted. An arrow struck into the floorboards, stopping as if it had hit solid planks. One black broadhead streaked toward the captain's neck. A sailor cried out, throwing himself between the arrow and Captain Vale. It impacted his chest. He staggered, then slumped, before poofing away. Captain Vale turned his head to Lord Bloodshackle.

He drew a black-bladed cutlass and pointed it. Unlike the rest of their weapons, his sword held substance. Sailors appeared at the bulwark, raising bows, muskets, and rifles. They loosed a volley, spiritual munitions biting as if they were physical. Rangers dropped, and Vampires staggered. Lord Bloodshackle stumbled back, glancing about.

"Pull back!" he bellowed.

"We're not equipped for this. Infantry, cover us!" Scattered skeletal warriors surged. The lines facing the cornered Ghouls peeled away, rushing to join the charge. I dropped low, trying to hide myself, but brood light innards still made me jump out in the night. Sailors dove from the bulwark, drifting down like kites before meeting the Fel army. Some hacked at the skeletal warriors. Others rushed through the animated bones, targeting the Feykins and Vampires in the back.

A necromancer cast a spell, conjuring a shadowy claw that ripped a ghost in two. The spirit dissolved. An incorporeal bullet drilled the necromancer between the eyes, dropping him. I dismissed Hook and Lines and drew the Bane Thesis. Then, I rushed into the fray. Captain Vale himself leaped down, charging right at Lord Bloodshackle. A ghost cut down a Vampire before turning on Kaevra. She stumbled back, Feykin eyes going wide. The sailor raised his saber and struck down. I struck.

The Bane Thesis intercepted it, cold iron turning the ghost blade aside. I shoved him, only there wasn't anything to shove. I stumbled through him. He whirled on me, pulling up short.

"You're not one of us," he said, his voice faded. I glanced down. Soaked in brood light guts, I glowed lightly. I must have looked like a knockoff impersonator ghost to him.

"Sorry, wrong team!" I lunged, rapier piercing his chest. He sagged, then puffed away. I turned.

"Run!" I barked at Kaevra. She didn't need to be told twice. A wraith swooped in—a skeletal spirit dragging black, tattered cloth. The crewmen of the Undertide scattered from it. It locked onto one unfortunate soul and then snatched it. The spirit sucked up into its skeletal mouth. I shivered. Why did all of my allies have to look like bad guys? A Ghost Fowl-kin charged me with a halberd. I parried, cold iron clashing against spectral steel.

Deeper into the chaos, Lord Bloodshackle danced away from Captain Vale, deflecting the physical cutlass. A dozen other spirits flowed around the Vampire Lord, harrying him on all sides. Growling, I lunged past the Fowl-kin spirit that barred my path, burning a mana point to kick off air and redirect myself at him. The Bane Thesis split him from shoulder to hip, and he puffed away. I gasped, sweat slicking my brow. Lord Bloodshackle cut through two ghostly sailors. They screamed as his cursed blade devoured them.

Captain Vale snarled in rage. A jet of flame sprayed from his jaws. Bloodshackle hissed under the ghost fire. I rushed to aid him.

"Tony?" My body locked, all noise dimming to my ears. That voice. I started to turn. A Ghost Hobgoblin ripped me back to the moment as he snarled, chopping at me with his wedge. I parried, focus locked on my new adversary. My heel struck a bone, and I went down hard. The Hobgoblin struck down. I brought the Bane Thesis between us, palm pressing into the flat of the blade. The Hobgoblin pushed, inching the wedge closer to my face. Lord Bloodshackle bellowed in pain, and I twisted my head.

He gripped his forearm, where Captain Vale's cutlass had sheared his hand free. The edge of the wound burned with blue flame. Bloodshackle glared up as the Drake-kin captain reared.

"No!" I croaked, the Bane Thesis inching closer to my face.

"Ruzkan, no!" a female voice shouted. Ice lanced through my blood. I tried to glimpse the speaker, but the Hobgoblin's form solidified the more he pressed into me. The pressure let up. Behind me, the wraith shrieked, swooping in fast at Captain Vale. The Ghost captain danced back, his men scattering before the spirit predator. Lord Bloodshackle swayed on one knee. He threw up a hand. The wraith deviated at the last second, streaking away from Vale and catching Lord Bloodshackle's palm.

Naomi's stepfather ripped from the fray. The Hobgoblin loomed over me.

"Lucky you have a good friend," he snarled. He punched. The world flashed, then went dark. <<Time to Seal Collapse: 02: 00: 05: 18: 34: 14>>