Chương 67: 15 Red Lines

"Brine!" I cursed.

"What?" Serevian asked.

"The Undertide—it's attacking Grimton." The Feykin tensed.

"Then we need to go. Now." My gaze shifted to Bianca. She strained, the iron bars groaning in protest as her body swelled.

"Is that thing going to hold?" I asked. My wounds ached when I tensed.

"For a while," Corin said, sitting back on top of the contraption.

"What the brine happened?" I demanded.

"The crown's gone. Her color changed on the map. Why didn't it work?" Her eyes darted, her talons raked at the steel, her body grew, muscles doubling.

"We're about to have another fight on our hands if we don't do something about her!" Roland said, stepping away from the cage. A satchel winked into Corin's hands, and he threw the flap back. He produced an even smaller leather case and worked the ties.

"Guys, we need to go back to Grimton, now!" Serevian said, glancing anxiously at the horizon toward his home. A group message notification popped up. <<Flavia Myrkrath: Team, I've added Lance to the chat. >> <<Lance Coralfin: Guys, I'm on my way. What's the situation at home? >> I tried to ignore the visual noise, but kept the message display up.

"Why didn't it work?" I demanded again, an edge creeping into my voice.

"Just put her in your inventory," Othess said.

"We've got her. Let's deal with her later."

"Doesn't work like that," Corin said.

"We can't stow living things." He produced a hypodermic needle, depressing the plunger until some clear fluid sprayed from the tip.

"Here goes nothing." He jammed the syringe into her neck. She convulsed, and one of the iron bars bent. Corin depressed the plunger. A drugged debuff winked on. She lurched and snapped, two pins popping off the cage. <<Naomi: Evacuating civilians to the citadel. The fort's wards hold. Undertide destroying the city. We can't touch it. >> I grimaced.

"What?" Serevian asked.

"You have news?" I peered at Bianca as her movements grew sluggish. She met my gaze, tension melting from the corners of her eyes as the drug took effect. I bit my tongue. We were juggling too many problems. And we hadn't even seen the Burrow King or the Bloodwake Giant.

"The Undertide," I said.

"One ship dismantling an entire city." Corin hit Bianca with a second dose, and finally, she slumped in her restraints. <<Flavia Myrkrath: East city garrison. There are cold iron cannonballs inside. You should be able to harm the Undertide with them. >> <<Naomi: We're cut off. It's making passes around the armory. It's like it knows what's inside. >> <<Lance Coralfin: I'm on my way, but I'm far. I can get to it if you can keep its eyes away from the sea. >>"Guys!" Serevian exclaimed, not privy to the chat.

I held up a hand. <<Tony: Corin and I are outside as well. We've recovered Bianca, but there's something wrong with her. >> <<Corin: We're also far. Hard to say who'd make it first. >> He glanced at me and nodded. The cage winked away from around Bianca. I cursed, lunging to catch her before she fell.

"We're discussing a strategy," Corin assured Serevian.

"Both Aunt Myrkrath and Uncle Coralfin are assessing the situation." A matte, slate-grey set of restraints winked into Corin's hands, cuffs and chains clicking. Needles balked.

"Those are adamant!" Corin snapped the cuffs onto Bianca's wrists.

"Steel is far too weak for her." He looped a chain around her waist and secured the hobbles around her ankles.

"How's she supposed to move?" I asked dumbly. The corner of her lip twitched in sleep. Corin turned to me.

"Antonio, we've gotten her out of enemy hands, but I'm afraid we can't bring her. Not now."

"Yes." Serevian nodded in agreement.

"We have more pressing matters."

"No." I shook my head.

"We came this far! We're bringing her home." Roland cleared his throat.

"She's our acting commander. Corporal De La Cruz and I will stay with her."

"What?" The younger marine clutched his rifle close, glancing about the square uneasily. A Ghoul shrieked in the distance. A dozen pupating corpses undulated across the cobbles—townspeople caught in the Ghouls' black harvest. There was no telling how long until they'd rise again and join the horde. Corin handed his anesthetic pouch to Roland. I turned to my squad.

"You're staying too. The dead in this town will arise as a new horde if we can't burn the corpses." Needles sniffed.

"I've caught sight of movement in the woods and in a few windows—not Ghouls. There are survivors out here."

"Good," I said.

"Find somewhere you can lie low. I'll come back for you." Drogo nodded.

"Go save the city, Cap. We've got things here."

"Be careful with her," Corin warned.

"If the drugs wear off, she'll be dangerous, even restrained." I crouched over Bianca.

"I'm coming back," I whispered. Pressure built in my head—pure exhaustion compounding with grief. I rose, fingers exploring my wounds. The punctures on my shoulders had scabbed over, the potion speeding up the recovery process. Still, it could be hours before the wounds fully healed. I inhaled.

"Serevian, lead the way." The Shad Feykin nodded but spared a moment to meet my gaze.

"We'll come back for her—after we've dealt with the Undertide." I cast a final glance at the ruined village. Could I leave my men isolated in enemy territory? Abandon Bianca when she needed us most? I tried not to think of Ingred, lying cold in my arms. I couldn't do it again. <<Corin: For your situational awareness, Tony and I have scattered the Ghouls at Inksprings. Thashkor is dead. We're leaving Bianca behind with a squad.

Please inform Captain Stormsong that Roland and Corporal De La Cruz are alive and accounted for. We're with Serevian. >> <<Flavia Myrkrath: Excellent work. We've lost contact with two other villages. Two more hordes are massing. It's good to know the people of Inksprings won't be joining them. >> I turned away. No, this hadn't been for nothing. We'd taken a risk and made a difference. Bianca was safer now than she'd been with Thashkor.

"Let's go." I recovered my weapons, then Corin, Serevian, and I marched down the corpse-choked street. Corin glanced over his shoulder just before the square disappeared from view.

"We're not leaving them to die, are we?"

"Elara's men are top tier," I said, eyes locked ahead.

"And I trained my guys to be hard to kill."

"They'll handle any Ghoul problem," Serevian said, striding at a forced march.

"If the Burrow King himself or a Bloodwake exploit shows up, then they're dead." My throat went dry. We passed the smoldering gate, and I held my nose as we crossed over burned bodies. Serevian led us into the dark forest. Twisted and crooked trees swayed towards us as we passed, as if physically trying to grab us. My eyes grew heavy, and hot spots on my heels ached. In the distance, something howled. Not Ghouls but something lupine. Serevian turned, a smile touching his lips.

"What is it?" I asked, hand going to the Bane Thesis.

"The were-packs. I doubt many of the Ghouls who scattered will make it to a larger horde."

"Will they give us any problems?" Corin asked.

"Not so long as you stick with me," Serevian said.

"I've been granted right of passage through most of their territories." We crossed a boggy field when Corin turned around.

"Serevian, I do not want to tell you how to do your job, but we're going the wrong way."

"Oh? I don't suppose you grew up hunting in these woods?" Serevian asked.

"What? No, but I have a system map. We're moving away from Grimton." I checked my map. He was right. The ranger grunted.

"We're not going to Grimton. Not directly." This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work. My pace faltered. Suddenly, the distant howls and the baleful trees reminded me just how isolated we were. I banished the paranoia. Yes, the Bloodwake surely had an insider in the Fel Court, but Serevian had proved himself many times over.

"So, where are we going?" Corin asked, casting a wary glance my way.

"You'll see. Almost there." We climbed a low hill to find a black bell hanging from wooden posts beside a dirt trail. Dual track marks ran parallel to each other, creating a path.

"Even if we could run, it'd take us over a day to get back to Grimton," Serevian explained. He plucked a small hammer dangling from a cord and struck the bell. A low rumble rolled, vibrations blurring the black iron. The toll grew louder and louder until a murder of crows took flight, cawing angrily. My hands itched to cover my ears, but just before it became intolerable, the note dissipated, chasing through the trees and the hills. I popped my jaw, my ears ringing lightly.

"Great, every enemy within miles knows we're here. Now what?" Serevian held up a finger, signaling silence. Then I heard it—the thunder of hooves. His face split into a relieved grin.

"I thought I'd call us a ride." I turned, tracking a plume of dust being kicked up over the road.

"Why didn't we do this to get to Inksprings?" Corin asked, following my gaze.

"No waypoints near the Burrows," Serevian said simply.

"Antonio, you've lost a lot of blood. Are you going to be able to pay?"

"Pay what?" I asked, making out a coach through the dirt cloud. Serevian didn't explain; he waved to the vehicle that tore up the hill. Six midnight black horses frothed and snorted, their coats oily black and dripping. The coachman flicked the reins, spurring them on faster. My lips twitched down as I made out the details. The rider's body stopped at the shoulders. He most definitely didn't have a head. They barreled at us, at breakneck speed. We stepped away from the road, and the rider jerked the reins.

Horses snarled and whinnied as ironshod hooves slid across the dirt. The coach stopped just before us, rider and suspension springs rocking back after the abrupt stop. Chest and shoulders turned towards us.

"Jorg," Serevian cursed.

"Did this Dullahan lose his head?" In response, the rider reached into a box bolted beside the seat and lifted a decapitated head by the hair. The disembodied, pale face with sunken cheeks spoke.

"Where to?"

"Grimton," Serevian said.

"Twelve eyemarks," the rider said, head swaying from the hair.

"I've got six," Serevian said, fishing out a handful of tiny coins.

"That'll get you halfway," the headless coachman said.

"Come now," Serevian murmured.

"I'll pay twenty-four when we get there. It's an emergency."

"Upfront, or no deal."

"Here," I said, fishing out several thick silver Bloodwake talons.

"Each one of these has to be three times the silver in one of those eyemarks." The head's lip curled in contempt.

"Those have never been laid on a deadman's eyes. You think I care for silver?"

"Gems?" I offered, hand going to the pouch at my side. This was robbery, but it was a cost I'd gladly bear.

"What do I look like to you, a jeweler?" The coachman sneered. Serevian sighed.

"Do you run red lines?" At last, the decapitated head grinned.

"I do."

"Six eyemarks for the first half. We'll run the red for the rest." The rider's other black-gloved hand extended. Serevian dropped the coins into the open palm.

"Let's go," the ranger said, opening the door.

"This won't be pleasant, but there's no faster way to get around." I climbed in behind him to find cushions upholstered in red velvet. Corin followed, casting an impressed glance around the polished blackwood and at the two flickering blue witch lights.

"Not bad," he said.

"It's expensive," Serevian muttered, sounding none too thrilled. The reins snapped, and I jerked back into my seat.

"Whoa." I drew the black curtain from the glass. The Fel countryside whipped past.

"Diomed mares move fast," Serevian remarked offhandedly.

"Just don't stand too close. They bite." The back of my head hit the cushioned seat, and a relieved groan escaped me. Tension melted from aching muscles.

"This is way better than walking," I said.

"For now," Serevian said.

"You might want to hydrate, get some food, and rest. You're going to need all the energy you can get. I also recommend you nurse a health potion." All logical points, but why did he grimace as the words left his mouth? A canteen belt winked into Corin's lap, and he began dumping powders of salt, sugar, and honey crystals into each one. Shaking them up, he handed them out.

"Drink up." It wasn't difficult. I drained the canteen in two long draughts. I licked my dried lips, returning the empty canteen. Corin handed out bread, cheese, and chilled melon cubes.

"You're like my mother," I said, accepting the parcel with gratitude.

"Carbs for energy, protein for repair, and a little fat because Jorg, we earned it," he said, popping a melon cube into his mouth. I scarfed. My energy spiked, but almost immediately, I felt my eyes closing, lulled by the rocking of the road. I jerked awake. Something clung to my face. I snatched at it. My fingers hit my goggles.

"Easy," Corin said, his hand on my shoulder. We were in a carriage, a bog trundling past outside. I rubbed my brow, yawning.

"We there?"

"Halfway," Serevian said.

"Time to run the red."

"The what?" Then I noticed the bone needle coming from the wall. The ivory needle trailed a tube. It swayed in the air, animated, like a serpent scenting prey. A similar hose slithered from the wall beside the other two. Serevian plucked the needle from the air before thrusting it into his arm. Blood began to flow up the tube.

"Run the red," I said, understanding at last.

"Is this sanitary?" Corin asked, plucking his needle with a grimace. Serevian simply laughed. I pinched my needle, directing the bone into my arm. Blood crept up the clear tube.

"So what? It's like a currency?" Corin asked, wincing as he missed the vein.

"Currency, food—" Serevian shrugged.

"Little difference here. It has to be warm, straight from the vein. Dullahans are posh buggers." Corin got the tap flowing on the second try.

"How long can we sustain this?" I asked.

"As long as we can." The carriage struck a bump, but the suspension absorbed it well. I glanced out the window. We passed several scarecrows, suspended on posts protruding from swamp water. I could have sworn their heads turned, following us as the coach moved past.

"You know what I don't get?" Corin said at last, lowering a canteen from his lips.

"Why is the Undertide helping the Bloodwake at all? What's got Captain Vale doing this?"

"You're surprised he is helping the Bloodwake?" Serevian asked, his brow climbing.

"No," I said.

"Captain Vale was Paradise."

"He was?" Serevian asked in surprise.

"But he's—""Drake-kin?" I finished.

"We have some of those, you know. Me included." My fingers drifted up and grazed the scales on my cheek.

"Was he a Cousin?" Serevian asked.

"A User in the High Family?"

"No," Corin said.

"Paradise Navy." The tube continued to tug at my arm, and my fingertips tingled. Corin offered me another canteen, as well as a health potion. I accepted them both.

"You know," I said.

"It's said that Captain Vale's ship exists physically at the heart of Ghost Rock."

"Really?" Serevian asked.

"How'd it get there?"

"He sailed into it," I said.

"Over a hundred years ago. So they say."

"According to legend," Corin said, "the woman he loved died."

"So he sailed to Ghost Rock to visit her?" Serevian asked. I snorted.

"He went to Ghost Rock to save her."

"Save her from what?" Serevian asked.

"She was already dead." A chill crept up my arm, starting at the puncture.

"A Wraith," I said.

"Ah," Serevian said.

"A soul eater."

"I have no idea how a Wraith got to Ghost Rock," I said.

"They're native to Fel, right?"

"This is my side of history," Serevian said.

"If it were a hundred years ago, then it would have been Morthrex the Glutton."

"He had a name?" I asked.

"Of course," Serevian said.

"Zalathor the Lich ruled Fel Rock then. Hoping to create a superweapon, he delivered Morthrex to Ghost Rock. The Wraith fed and grew. I didn't realize Captain Vale played a role in that story."

"Are you kidding me?" I said.

"Captain Vale killed it." Serevian blinked.

"Killed… Morthrex?"

"That's correct," Corin said.

"What?" Serevian adjusted the needle in his arm.

"And he wasn't even a User?"

"Nope," Corin said.

"The High Family forbade him from going, so he robbed the Armory of Allocation and struck out on his own." I jumped in.

"He stole the legendary sword, the Dawn Verdict—" My eyes widened as I recalled his cold iron, black blade—the only corporeal object among the entire crew.

"Which is almost definitely the blade he used on Lord Bloodshackle."

"So he won?" Serevian asked.

"How'd he die?"

"It was the sword," Corin said simply.

"It consumed him. Cold iron is crude; it's a poor conductor for system light. Burn too brightly, and it feeds back on itself." Serevian straightened in his seat.

"Wait, you said the ship is physically positioned somewhere within the island?" The edges of my vision blurred, and the coach seemed to spin. I sipped the health potion.

"According to seaside tavern tales."

"Could one not—" He paused.

"Destroy the physical ship? Burn it? Wouldn't that sever its connection to Ghost Rock? Deny the crew a vessel?" I chuckled.

"Going to Ghost Rock is madness. The Undertide destroys anything that comes within fifty leagues—" My eye widened.

"Oh, right. The Undertide is here."

"Exactly," Serevian said.

"The Undertide isn't protecting Ghost Rock because it's too busy destroying my home." A message popped up in the group chat. <<Corin: Hypothetical: Burn the Undertide's physical body at Ghost Rock. Would that destroy the ghost form? >> I glanced at Corin, who shrugged.

"Might be interesting to see what they think." <<Lance Coralfin: No idea. I'll get some researchers on it right away. >> <<Flavia Myrkrath: I have potions of Ghost Step at the citadel. Could come in handy. Assuming there's anything left. >> A pulse of nausea pushed through me, and I took another shot of the health potion.

"Okay, this is good," I said.

"We have two potential solutions here." I held up a finger.

"Blast her to pieces with cold iron shells." I held up the second.

"Burn the physical hull at Ghost Rock."

"That's a lot of busywork while Ghouls mass and the Bloodwake schemes," Corin pointed out.

"Makes one wonder if hunting the Undertide is exactly what the Puppetmaster wants."

"Keep us divided," I agreed, nodding.

"The weaker the crypt, the better the opportunity he has to free Zalathor." Corin shifted toward me.

"Have you tried asking him?" Serevian's head tilted to the side.

"What is he talking about?"

"The message," Corin said.

"The one in red? Puppetmaster hacked a channel to you through our network. You should be able to message back."

"Stop reading my mail," I grumbled, but I pulled up the message anyway. Over a month old, those red words read the same way they did at Highwater Cay. <<Vittorio Vitriol: Now, son, why'd you have to go and do that? >>"Ask him," Corin prompted.

"Anything that might get us an edge." I hesitated. My fingers had gone ice cold from the draw. Corin was right. I'd take any advantage. <<Tony: What are you doing on Fel Rock? >> I waited nearly half a minute before willing it to send. Corin and Serevian waited expectantly. A minute passed. Two. Three… <<Vittorio Vitriol: You're on Fel Rock? >>"Guys!" My hand gripped a handle beside the door.

"He answered."

"What did he say?" Serevian asked. A second message popped up. <<Vittorio Vitriol: Go back to Paradise, you'll be safe there. >> I relayed the message. Corin hummed thoughtfully.

"Okay, the implication there is that things aren't safe here, and they'll probably keep getting worse." Serevian snorted.

"No brine, genius." <<Vittorio Vitriol: Better yet, bring your mother and sister to Drake. I can protect you here. >> The temperature seemed to drop five degrees, and it probably wasn't because of blood loss. I can protect you here— on Drake, not Fel.

"What?" Serevian asked, leaning forward.

"Either my father is being very clever," I said, slumping back, "or he just accidentally revealed his location." I glanced up.

"Puppetmaster isn't even on Fel Rock." <<Time to Seal Collapse: 02: 00: 05: 06: 01: 32>>