I chose the ambush site.

  Far deeper into the graveyard than I usually did. It was closer to the third ring of the maze. The buildings and graves are closer, making an ambush easier.

  Several wrong turns slowed them as they passed through the maze. The donkeys were harder to turn, slowing them further. This gave me time to take a longer look at the packs. There was mining gear, but plenty of other boxes hidden under oilskins and canvas. I got a weird vibe from one of the middle donkeys' backs.

  The Hunters were able to gather with time to prepare for the intruders. Many of them had brought firearms along with their standard close combat weapons. Watching them, I noticed how Rodrigues was becoming less able to use firearms with the changes coming to his body. For the moment, he could still wield a rifle, but I could see a day when that would not be possible.

  That briefly had me thinking about the others and how long before they could no longer work with firearms if they continue to change as well. I force this line of thought away as I got ready to organise an ambush.

  It had taken the group of men well over an hour to reach this point, but their focus hadn't diminished. They were walking in a rough oval-shaped formation around the donkeys in the middle. All of them were still scanning the graveyard around them while they had their rifles ready to be used.

  I chose a junction as the ambush site, and the Hunters were arranged in a rough circle around it. Once the men enter, I will give the order, and the attack will come from multiple directions at once. They outnumbered my Hunters, but I hope that the shock of the assault would give us the advantage.

  I watched them slowly moving forward. They entered the junction and were almost at the ambush point. I was about to give the order when something unexpected happened.

  A shrill whistle came from somewhere on the lead man, causing the others to scatter and take up defensive positions instantly. The donkeys panicked but stayed in formation.

  "What the hell was that! Engage! Engage!"

  My Hunters began firing, but quickly received return fire. My carefully orchestrated ambush suddenly devolved into a chaotic skirmish. I positioned myself above the donkeys to coordinate my Hunters. It was then that I first heard the voice.

  "We are surrounded. Keep fire discipline market targets. Back two seek to flank." The voice had a strength that made men listen in combat, and I realised the lead man was giving orders to his men.

  Simple instructions quickly put the intruders into action. They didn't have repeater rifles but military-grade bolt actions, and they worked them to significant effect. They popped up, fired, ducked, and then worked the breach to chamber the next round. My Hunters, on the other hand, mostly had repeater rifles, which allowed them to keep up a steady rate of fire.

  Bullets were impacting the ground and ricocheting off gravestones around the first donkey, which then collapsed. The second was hit by a stray bullet and bolted, taking the last with it. That disrupted the intruders' defensive position only momentarily.

  The intruders took their first casualty when a ricochet caught one of the men in the arm. He cried out in pain but hid behind Greystone and began to inspect the injury.

  "Blackstone, be careful, two men are trying to push back along the path to get behind you."

  He didn't respond, but I saw his fire adjust. My position allowed me to coordinate my Hunters more effectively. I was trying to figure out why, with the combatants so close, there were more injuries on both sides or even deaths. Both the intruders and the Hunters were popping up, firing, and moving, trying to get a better position whenever they could. Everyone was moving and bobbing up and down. Gun smoke was thick in the air.

  In short order, a hundred rounds had been expended by both sides at least. Most had gone through at least one reload of their rifles. It was then that I heard a snarl of pain through my connection to my Hunters.

  "I have been hit by a ricochet, Keeper, but I'm still able to fight." This came from Harrington as the distance between the combatants began to narrow. The intruders started dropping their rifles and switching to pistols.

  Another intruder got clipped by around in the leg, causing him to take cover by rolling behind a large gravestone.

  It was impossible to tell if we were winning or losing. I began moving around the area, trying to get a feel of what was happening.

  One of the intruders approached a small tomb with a tree beside it, and I noticed the shadows shifting. This was where Harrington was, and it appeared the intruder was trying to take him out while he was reloading. Harrington and shooting at him, but as soon as his rifle had run out of bullets, there was a click indicating he was out. The intruder had pulled out a dagger along with his pistol. He then emerged from cover and charged into the location.

  This seemed to be the tactic all the intruders are using: get closer, and when the hunters are reloading, charge with blade and pistol.

  The heavy overcast of the day was working in Harrington's favour, creating a deep area of shadow that he was now manipulating. The shadows were hiding him, but also allowing him to move slightly from where he was initially, without the intruder realising it.

  He quickly closed the distance and fired into the place where Harrington was. He promptly discharged three rounds from his six-shooter. Harrington pulled his own out and shot the intruder through the head. He collapsed dead.

  One down.

  I went back to wandering.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  I looked around quickly to see where the kill had taken place and who had done it. It took me a long time to find another dead body lying on the ground with a Bowie knife buried in its neck. Rigger was behind a gravestone near the body. He had made the kill but had received a bullet in the shoulder. He was inspecting the wound, trying to stem the bleeding of the sick, dark, oily blood.

  That would not kill him straight away. I turned my attention back to the fight.

  I saw McGregor go down with a bullet wound to the leg when moving to find a better spot. When the intruders came with his revolver to finish him off. The man's head jerked to the side as a bullet impacted it. The bullet tore through his skull, injecting brain and blood from the other side.

  I looked around, identifying Roberson as the shooter.

  It was no act of solidarity between my Hunters but one of simple survival. They all knew that not supporting each other would increase the chance of death not coming to them all.

  If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  Roberson was forced to take cover as several rounds impacted around him. Stone splitters are scattered around with each impact.

  The numbers were now about even.

  I saw a flash of movement on the other side of the area we were fighting in. Rodriguez jumped from a large gravestone onto the springboard, taking one of the intruders to the ground, and began savaging him with his teeth.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  As he got up, one of the others took vengeance and shot him twice. I can see where the bullets hit him, but I knew they were both in the upper body. I saw him jerk from the impacts and fall back.

  He wasn't dead, but I suspected he was badly wounded.

  One of the intruders trying to flank Blackstone received a shotgun blast to the chest, and he fell and didn't get back up. He had carried both a large-calibre shotgun and a rifle to this fight.

  The volume of fire had now dropped markedly. Only three intruders remained, and they were organising to make a stand in a defensible position.

  "No heroics. Just kill them as fast as you can."

  I ordered my Hunters who could respond, and they began pouring fire into that area. The men there returned when they could, but I was sure the next few minutes as the volume of shots took their toll, and eventually all three men fell. Blackstone, however, received a return round with a grunt but carried on.

  "Hold fire!"

  My words brought silence to the area. After the sound and chaos of battle, it was a strange thing. The air was filled with a light smoke from all the discharging guns, but it was quickly disappearing.

  It was time to count the cost.

  "Right, who is not wounded!"

  Roberson was the only one in the end who was not shot or hit by ricochets.

  "Right then. Blackstone get Rodriguez back to his lair. The rest of you get back to yours, too. Roberson, I'm afraid I need you to clean it all up."

  The Hunters quickly departed, leaving Roberson alone. I summoned my avatar and stood next to the dead donkey. This was the one in the middle, and still, I got a weird vibe from it.

  "Something wrong, Keeper?" He asked, probably seeing my focus on the dead donkey, not the men.

  "Plenty, Roberson. Find the two donkeys that have run. I need to think about this. Be careful when you're handling them. There is something off here."

  He nodded, not saying anything else, and disappeared along the path that the donkeys had run down trying to escape. He trusted me and would listen to my warning.

  I looked around, wincing at the damage. I would not start with a donkey, but instead with the leader of the group. I needed to know who I was dealing with.

  Two bullet holes were now in his upper torso, and he was lying on his back. Blood was still flowing from his body, but at a far slower rate. The grass below him had absorbed the bulk of it.

  Kneeling, I pulled open his coat and shirt below. Everything was covered in blood and sticky. Around his neck was a chain with a medallion. With a firm tug, I ripped it from his body. I cleaned it with my fingers.

  It was not the Ways or Daughters symbol. It was a cross of some kind, but not one found in a Christian church. It was more reminiscent of a nightly orders cross, and I felt like I'd seen it before somewhere. I thought about it for several moments, and it suddenly occurred to me that it looks like a Templar's cross.

  This only deepened my confusion over who the intruders were.

  I went back to searching the body. I found no papers or forms of identification. There were a few dollars and change in a pocket that could be salvaged. But what surprised me was the lack of alcohol or tobacco of any type. In this day and age, it was exceptionally rare to find anyone travelling without at least one, let alone without the pair. The final thing I discovered was a keyring with three brass keys.

  By the time I finished my search of the corpse, Roberson returned with one of the donkeys.

  "Other is dead not far down the path. I found this one wandering a short distance away." The donkeys still had to pack on their backs, but I had never felt anything off about this one.

  "Good to know. I will need you to search the pack of the one lying there. There's something in there that I'm sensing."

  I indicated to the dead donkey on the floor.

  "Something dangerous?" He asked, a bit concerned.

  "Possibly. But I think it mainly targets me."

  He was far more cautious than normal, unwrapping the packages and containers from the back of the dead donkey. Yet he lifted the body to get at the other ones, but eventually he revealed everything. The bulk of the stuff on the donkey was what we expected, but three very interesting boxes stood out.

  Each was of high-quality, costly dark wood, with each box being a different size. The hinges and fixtures were all made of brass, with each lid sporting the Templar's cross symbol. It was a fair bet to say that the brass keys I was holding would unlock these boxes.

  "You opening em," Roberson asked.

  "Not yet. Don't take them to the church, put them in one of the neighbouring mausoleums. Everything else goes to the church as normal unless I say so. And yes, before you ask, you can take whatever parts of the body you want. The rest I will decide on later."

  He smiled at me. His teeth were far more jagged and sharp right now, which was rather disturbing. The donkey he brought back had a shovel attached to its flank, and he retrieved it and got to work.

  I returned to the church with what I had gathered from the body of the lead intruder. I did not dismiss my avatar; instead, I walked the distance, which gave me time to think.

  As soon as all of my Hunters had recovered, I showed them what loot had been gathered. They were all greatly disappointed at the lack of tobacco and alcohol, but one or two of them took the military-grade rifles with some ammunition for themselves. I gained over a hundred dollars and a few watches.

  I had Harrington hold back and inform them of the boxes, and showed him the medallion. Each man had one, and as far as I could tell, they were identical. Roberson had gathered them and brought them not to the church but to the mausoleum, where the three boxes were now being stored. I had guided Harrington there and showed them everything.

  "Fascinating, Keeper. Truly fascinating." He was poring over everything, but I refused to let him open the boxes just yet. "You are quite correct in your assumption that this is a Templar's cross, but it has a slight variation. Look here, each arm of the cross has a small cutout at the end which resembles a V."

  He lifted the medallion and showed me what he was seeing. I had noticed the site cut out, but I thought that was part of the actual design. His words told me otherwise.

  "Why have you not opened the boxes?" He asked, looking at them with eyes that were gleaming with hunger and eagerness.

  "That one is resonating with me in some way."

  I pointed to the largest of the three boxes, and he instantly fixated on it.

  "Resonating? Please describe in great detail."

  I explained to him that whenever I got close to the box in either avatar or non-corporeal form, I felt a vibration from it that got almost unpleasant the closer I got to the container. There was something in there that my nature was recoiling against. He nodded vigorously throughout my description.

  "Use these keys openly on smaller boxes first, but be careful. Before you do, I want a full inspection from you and Blackstone in case there are traps."

  "Most wise, Keeper. Will you be watching?"

  "No. Once you open the boxes and they have been deemed safe, I will come and inspect the contents. The third one will remain sealed for the moment until we've investigated these two. Also, I want to find out more about this group that uses the symbol, so I'll be reaching out to others who might know."

  What I didn't tell him was that I had already done that. Roberson had taken the last surviving donkey down to Herbert, along with one of the medallions and instructions to reach out to my allies in Crossway to find out what they knew.

  Rigger had taken the bodies of the two donkeys. He had stripped them and carved them up to make them easier to transport. Why? I did not know, and I did not ask.

  I've been using [Hide the Crime!] for the last few days to clean up the mess.

  Harrington was a bit upset that I had gone to others for the information, but he was a practical monster, even though his pride was hurt a bit by not knowing. Discovering the contents of these boxes might help soothe that.

  I left him to work partly because I do not want to be caught in any arcane backlash triggered by opening the boxes incorrectly or encountering anything that might react to my presence. I don't think he realised I was using him as the canary in the coal mine.

  Blackstone arrived at my behest a short time later to inspect the boxes as well. He appeared an hour later and told me that they were fine. He literally said "Fine" and nothing else, then walked off—ever the conversationalist.

  It was not even a day yet, and I returned to the top of the special bubble, looking out across the world. The appearance of this company greatly disturbed me. At first, I thought the Way of Athaoms or the Daughters of Medusa had betrayed me, but it seems now a third group had become involved.

  Who were they and what were their goals?

  I can only speculate right now, but from the heavily armed incursion, I doubt that they were friendly or willing to negotiate.

  Another question also came to me as I looked out across the world and saw another snowstorm approaching from the mountains.

  Why now?