Outside. Free of the Vault at last.

  "Oh my gods," Laticia said from my side as the older woman picked herself up, "how did we get out? The dragon-"

  She was looking at me, but I was lookin' behind her.

  At the little bleeding lump of crazy that had nearly done us all in.

  She was on her knees, clutching her arm and snarling in rage. The sounds she was making was barely human.

  "Failed. Vessel weak. Needs... Stronger. Must be stronger. More. More," I saw her eyes go wide as she reached out with both arm and stump, like a starving child reaching for a meal. Her mouth opened wide. Then wider, as something started oozing out.

  It hissed and sizzled as it dripped to the sand as realization struck.

  The same venom that had been pumped through her veins, the same poison that I had crippled her to stop. She bent, wretched, and more and more flowed out. The hiss of it eating the ground was drowned out by her screams of pain.

  I grabbed up my gun, and stood.

  "Sorry, but I guess I can't let you live," I said as I steeled myself to beat her head to a pulp. I grabbed the scattergun like a club and took two steps, half the distance between us.

  "Stop!" Laticia cried, though she didn’t need to. I was completely spent, had pushed my broken body and mind far, far beyond the pale. I was dead on my feet, and her grip on my raised arms was enough to tug me right over.

  “She's expelling the venom. Just let it happen…" She said, struggling to hold me up.

  Oops.

  My instincts said she was wrong. My gut told me to just end it, but...

  I was plain too tired to argue.

  So, I did nothing. I let the little snake bleed out her poison. Watched it burrow into the sand until the flow slowed and finally stopped.

  "Is she..." I croaked, my throat still tight and dry.

  "Free. I think," Laticia said, wiping her nose on my coat, "Xoxoctic, are you, with us again?"

  Shorty looked up, and there was still some pain in her yellow eyes, but none of that cold malice.

  "What the fuck?" she said as her gaze flicked between us, "where-" she bent back over and spat again, this time just plain old blood, "oh gods it hurts. Where's the vault, where's the crocodile snake? What-" she stared around, clearly seeing the sun for the first time, "what happened? We were underground, in that dark place..."

  Well damn. Just how long had she not been herself? Just how long had we all missed the fact that little Shorty was being ridden?

  No time to wonder, no time to worry.

  "Later," I said and stood to take a look. We weren't far from the collapsed entrance of the Vault. That Wyrm and the goblins had sacked and destroyed everything the expedition had brought with them. Left nothing but broken wood, scraps of canvas, and a pile of bones to mark the price of this excursion.

  Made a grave of the whole place.

  That was a problem, given that we were wounded. Out of food and water and ammo, and who knew how many miles from civilization.

  But right now, it was still a sight for sore eyes.

  Better to die under this great sun, than get lost forever in the endless dark.

  "Right now," I said and spat, "we better get walkin'." I looked to Shorty and frowned, "you can walk, can't ya?"

  She glared, "I can, but... Oh gods, I've been shot!" she cried as she looked down at herself, "I'm covered in holes and shit. My arm!" she stared at her missing limb, "I got shot! You, you fucking-"

  "He did what was needed, Xoxoctic. Mister Roche saved both of our lives many times over. If not for him, we'd all be dead, or worse."

  Shorty looked between us again and swallowed.

  "... and what about the rest?"

  We shared a silent look, and I saw all my fears reflected in those hard, old eyes.

  "Gone," I said, sparing dear Tish the hurt of speaking that curse aloud, "all of 'em. Gone. All but us."

  Shorty closed her eyes and sucked a breath through bloody teeth. Then tears started.

  Her and Tish both just fell on each other, holding and weeping.

  And me? Well, I didn't have time to stop and cry. I left the girls to work it out and moved to pick through the camp.

  At some point I too would shed tears, but this wasn't the time.

  Not yet. I needed to find us supplies. Save all that feelin' for when the job was done.

  I stopped short just a few paces out. A low rumble was growin' on the edge of my hearing. I turned and looked as what was left of the Vault's cliff began to crumble. Stones began to fall. Not to the ground, but in.

  The sands began to swirl like a whirlpool against sharp rocks, and the Vault began to sink. The whole thing just collapsed inwards, and the desert began to swallow it up, the sands shifting to slowly bury the ancient structure. Dragging down whatever was left of the camp with it.

  I watched in quiet horror as the world closed an open wound that had festered and bled. When it was done, so little was left.

  Just a few scattered bones, and that serpentine head of the vault's stone edifice.

  Well fuck.

  I guess that, that was the consequences of my actions.

  Thanks, spooky dark god.

  I swore right then and there, never to open that damned page of my book. Might’ve got my ass outta hot water, but I was pretty darn sure it’d burn me in the end. Best keep out of games and gods, and stick to what I knew.

  And what did I know?

  I knew two dozen lives had been spent. Wasted and burred under sands, secrets and stone.

  All that paid, and what do you get?

  Just another day deeper in this worlds stinkin’ shit.

  We walked about half a day, before our legs gave out and we started to bake. Durin’ that time memories came back to Shorty, in bits and pieces. She was worse for it, her and Tish both.

  I was pretty sure the buzzards circling overhead were due for a feast. That would've been alright, honestly. I was tired. I'd fought and bled and watched too many decent folk die. I'd since run out of willpower and grit. Even a fool like me has his limits.

  But where sheer stubbornness and good old-fashioned fails, luck can often prevail.

  So it was when Shorty looked up from our place in the sands, covered by a sheet of canvas in a desperate attempt to survive the heat.

  "Hey," she said, her voice cracked and dry. We'd run out of water the day before, down in the Vault, "do you hear that?"

  "Its just your mind givin' you false hope. Ignore it," I mumbled.

  "No, really. I think I hear-"

  "Yes!" Tish, the least chewed up and spit out of us three cried out, "it's an engine! Roche, get up!"

  My eyes snapped open.

  An engine? An artificed engine? Out here, how in the hell-

  I looked up.

  I saw the shimmer and dust far out on the dunes. Saw a shape begin to resolve.

  A caravan.

  I thought back. Wasn't a caravan supposed to come and resupply the expedition every few days? Weren't they supposed to come with the rest of the guards and the scholars?

  Was that it?

  Did that mean...

  We were saved?

  Hmmm. Naw. Too easy. Probably slavers, knowin’ my luck.

  Probably some manner of desert pirates come to strip our corpses.

  "Shorty, got any ammo left?" I asked as I pushed myself up, the girl already on her feet.

  "Two rounds," she said with a guilty look, I had them hidden in my brassier, "sorry again for shooting you both."

  "Ah, well," Tish shrugged, fingering the streak of dried blood on her cheek. No words, just a distant stare.

  "You didn't kill us," I added, and accepted the two bullets. I flipped open the cylinder and slotted them in quick, “That has to be good enough.”

  For some reason the tendrils that made up my hands had more and more cooperative as of late. I hadn't had time to practice with them much, still couldn't manage to work the individual strands, but so long as they were stuffed in my gloves they behaved more or less like normal fingers.

  That first gift of the Kraken had finally became a boon. A bit late, but I suppose soon enough to count. I was still drawin' breath, in part cause of them, despite so many trying to change that fact.

  "Get behind me. I'll kill the first couple and you grab their guns. Then we can clean 'em up," I said, readying the pistol with a click.

  "Actually Mister Roche," Laticia stepped forward, "I think we can handle this without a fight."

  I frowned.

  "Now, Tish, I know you're a tender sort, but diplomacy has its place. And I'm afraid that it ain't here."

  She smirked and shook her head, "You're wrong, Mister Roche. That's a University caravan. And that-"

  She pointed at a figure racing ahead of the rumble and dust.

  "I think that's your pig."

  I frowned and squinted, and I saw...

  "Moxie?" I felt something warm and wet roll down the grime on my cheek.

  The pig was barreling across the dunes, snuffling and squealing. A shattered tusk on one side, new scars on her face and shout.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  I couldn't believe my eyes, but as the hog came closer I heard it, that sweet, beautiful sound.

  "Squeee!"

  The sound a pig makes when they're happy. When they see someone they love. I was so taken by joy I didn't even notice the tall bearded man on her back.

  I'd kick his ass for stealin' my pig later. For now I was just too damn tickled to see her alive again.

  "Moxie! Moxie, c'mere girl. Come on!" I put the gun down and scrambled up, running through deep sand to meet her half way. I was a right mess. I was tired, sore, and my legs were about to fall off, but who cared?

  Moxie was alive!

  I ran and she ran and I had to dodge.

  Never play chicken with a razorback hog. That's new wisdom from a new Lorcan Roche.

  She turned and stopped, skidding in the loose sands on the hardened stone conjured beneath her feet. Her ability to control the earth with her hooves was the only thing that let her manage a decent stop, and kept me from goin’ flatter than a spent gasfrog.

  "Mister Roche!" shouted the old man on her back.

  "Professor Clarke?"

  "Clarke!"

  "Professor!" shouted the other two as they ran up behind me.

  And as we all gathered around the big, beautiful hog, I knew we had won.

  Well, okay.

  We lost. Hard. But we lived, survived. And that was almost the same thing as winning, in my book. I’ll take a draw if it means playin’ at the table again.

  I was sorry for all those that couldn't say the same. I'd mourn them, probably for the rest of my days. Everyone who climbed out of that hole would bear scars far deeper than bone and flesh. Scars that'd never heal, no matter what.

  Lottie… the absence of her, I think that’d ache the most of all. I wouldn’t forget all she’d done, how brave she’d been…

  But at least we could walk in the light, ‘cause of her.

  At least I could ride again, away from all this dark.

  I’d thank her for that, somehow, someway.

  "So glad to see you all. Are you scouting ahead of the rest? What did you find in the vaults? Where is Yollotli? She owes me a thorough report of all this and..." his big mustache turned upside down as the caterpillars on his face knit together and kissed, "Where, what happened?"

  Silence, as all the smiles fell.

  I gave Shorty a pat to soothe a little of the comin' ache, then spoke up.

  "Get us some water, then a smoke and a drink. I'll tell you what you need to know."

  "... Yeah, best let Roche explain, Professor. I wasn't, I wasn't quite there for most of it." Shorty said, her eyes falling to the sand. Her hand came up and touched the rough, cauterized stump where her left arm had been.

  "I see." His gaze fell to the girl, "Yes, let's start with some water. And Laticia, you need an elixir. It must have been dire for you to resort to blood magic. I'd hate to think of the cost."

  The rest of the caravan arrived a moment later, the massive artificed carriage rumbling on in. We climbed aboard and squeezed in with the rest of the handful of guards and confused scholars to find the shade.

  I took a long drink of sweet, cold, water. Then washed it down with a full glass of amber whiskey.

  A little while later I was beneath a canvas shade attached to the carriage. I was smokin' and sippin' and talkin'.

  Almost felt like normal again, though I knew it never really would be.

  Every word seemed to pull a little more hope and add another year of age to Clarke's face. When I told him of Yollotli's death, that's when he really started to break.

  I didn't know for sure, but I had guessed the two were closer than teacher than master and student. There was something familiar between them. The man looked like he'd lost a daughter instead.

  "I should have been there," he said, "should have been there to protect her."

  "Couldn't have been," I said and drew in another good lungful of smoke. My ribs ached, and my insides burned, but that ghostleaf soothed my soul, "the entrance was sealed, and I suspect there was no other easy way in or out. Someone had gone in before us. I think they woke it all up, maybe to cover whatever had been already done."

  "Someone in before us, you think? Why?”

  “Ask Shorty. She dreamt it, and I don’t know how else to explain all that happened. There were traps down there, newer ones. Set exactly for someone like me, someone that might rely on mana sight to find them.”

  Clarke stroked his beard, lost in thought. “Hmm, yes. I’ll speak to her later. After she has had time to recover and rest. But, you said a voice spoke to you? Do you have any idea who or what it was? An Anasisi Archmagister perhaps?"

  "Doubt it. I saw them fuckin' things up close. I don't imagine mercy is even a word in their language, if they still really have language. Ain’t a one of them would help any but their any, if that."

  "It isn't. A word in their tongue, I mean. But contact with a Divine is hard to believe."

  I scoffed, "Oh it weren't Divine. I know that for sure."

  He frowned, "How so?"

  I chewed the slender cigar and wondered how much I could trust the old man, how much was wise to show.

  "Need you to make a promise," I said fetching my rune book from a pocket, "that if I show you this, you'll tell no one. That you'll keep my secrets, just as I'll keep yours."

  He looked at me curiously, then nodded.

  "Yes. For all you've done I owe you that much. More, in fact…"

  I grunted, flipped to a page, then showed him.

  Task Available

  Customer: Entropic

  Description: Remove the central relic of the Anasisi Vault. Consume it.

  Reward: Nothing. You failed, fool. My mercy was a pittance compared to what you denied.

  Clarke froze as he read then choked as he read the entry above. The one for my first task.

  "You're in communication with a god?" he asked, "how? Why you?"

  I shrugged, "Dunno. Something funny happened when I carved the rune for my Path," I said drawing down my short to show some of the scar that was left, "and it's one way. So far I got two of them tasks, and the last one was in the Vault. I think the voice I heard was the god speakin'. That reward message definitely seems to fit. Either way, think I’m done with the whole ordeal. Don’t need anymore attention than I’ve already got."

  Clarke nodded, taking it in as he tugged at the corner of his long mustache, "I'll have to research this, if you'll let me. I'll keep your secrets, of course, but I'd love to learn more. It has become very rare for any entity of power to directly contact a mortal. Not of unheard of, but they've grown quiet as of late. And think it is wise to avoid such direct contact. I played those same games, once. I know the cost of power, Roche. Know how it lingers…"

  A while passed before I spoke up again. In that time Clarke seemed to age another few decades. I felt like I owed the man a few moments of silent thought.

  "Yeah, well, I don't really care what the spooky voice in the dark wants. Him or the rest. I said no. Destroyed what was left of the dragon, then it teleported us out. Shorty puked up that mind-fuck venom, that spawn the hydradile left in her, and here we are."

  Silence again, but for the distant wind.

  "I see. Biomantic infiltrators, mind magic, dark gods and dragons preserved…” he went silent, eyes very, very far away, “Well, Mister Roche. I have a great deal to think on, and a great deal to mourn. I will of course confirm all you have said with Laticia and Xoxoctic. But I feel no falsehood from you,” wait, feel falsehood? Right. Archmage. “This has been, perhaps, the most catastrophic failure in a decade of excursions. I have to thank you, however. You prevented it from a complete loss, and even saved a few lives. You have my gratitude, and that of the University. When we are back in Augustus' Hope I will personally see that the Hunter's Guildmaster receives a full report of your deeds. You're a hero, Mister Roche, so far as I shall ever be concerned."

  I snorted, nearly coughed up a lung, then laughed, "Hero? Professor Clarke. I'm a mercenary. All I did was what you hired me to do."

  A soft twinkle in his old grey eyes, "Pardon me, but you're full of shit. Even if you believe that, the facts are the facts. You were hired to guard a hole in the ground from goblins and sandvipers. Not from a damned Winter Wyrm. Not from living Anasisi biomancers and their made creations.” He shook his head, and looked right through me, “No. When we return, you will be a man in fine standing. And you will have many, many more job opportunities. The University has many more projects in need of expert security and richly rewards those who can deliver. You're going to make a small fortune in the next few years, Mister Roche. And I think," he said drawing on his own cigar, "you'll save many more lives."

  I shrugged and took a drink, "Maybe. Maybe I'll just take what I've earned and buy a nice plot of land and a few pigs. Not sure I really like adventurin' so much."

  "That would be a shame. But a man's got to choose his own Path. Whatever it is, I wish you luck." He extended a hand.

  I clasped it and shook, "And to you, Professor Clarke."

  We camped for the night.

  Tish made her way over just as I was feelin’ heavy from the drink. Sitting on a bed roll given by one of the other guards, one of the men who had missed their destined time in the Vault.

  We didn’t talk, she looked me over and tended a little of what Clarke’s folk had missed. She made to move, to go away, and I did somethin’ I never had done before.

  “Hold on,” I muttered, gently grabbin’ her arm. I pulled her close, not like a lady, but like I would my own mama.

  “Thank, thank you for savin’ me,” I whispered as her close, and then let her go.

  Only my few words, that hug and her smile ever passed between us then, but it was enough.

  I slept like the dead. After the Vault, my nightmares felt dull. The mind often struggles to conjure a horror worse than what you've already lived through. The truth of this world, it was well beyond the dark tiding of Mother Strix. By compare, bad dreams were a fine mercy.

  In the morning we broke camp. No one spoke much, and I was left to my own.

  I met eyes with Shorty as she climbed into the artificed carriage behind Tish. She just looked away. We both had things to regret, wounds we’d made upon the other, and they were just plain too raw to poke at now.

  Good luck, and goodbye.

  I took my time trailing them on my pig.

  "You alright girl?" I asked the beast with a pat and scratched behind her ears.

  A terse snort. She was mad at me.

  "I couldn't help it. Got smacked by a dragon. Broke my neck!"

  She tossed her head, trying to hook her broken tusk on me. The message was clear.

  She got hurt too, so stop bitchin' little man.

  "Alright, alright, you're right," I said with a laugh, "I'm sorry. I'll get a job bandit hunting next. Well, maybe. You can eat everyone of them, if we do."

  That got a pleased oink from my man-eating pig.

  As I rode on through the day, a little of that anguish seemed to burn off beneath the sun.

  We passed through the gates of Augustus' Hope without incident. No guard was gonna fuck with the University's business, it seemed.

  Apparently, they had pull with someone here.

  I left Moxie in the care of Miss Marry. She was glad to see me back, but I didn't want to suffer anymore teary re-unions just yet. Bein’ the professional she was, Marry let me go without guff.

  I split off and made my way into the tight alleys between the shops and homes in town, back to Leo's bar.

  Back to payin' my real debt.

  I pushed open the doors, and shuffled in.

  The big Pardaz gave me a questioning look.

  "Afternoon, Lorcan."

  "Afternoon, Leo."

  His face cracked into a grin, and he gave a deep belly laugh.

  "You look like you've seen some shit, boy," he said filling a glass with amber whiskey and slidin' it down.

  None of the other disciples of Temperance were present, and the woman herself was thankfully gone.

  "Yep." I took the glass and took a swig, "need to stay a night. I'll get my pay from the guild tomorrow."

  He nodded and tapped the counter. A small gesture, but it carried weight. "Give you a room and drinks for free, if you tell me the story behind those hollow eyes."

  I looked up, "do you really wanna hear it?"

  He shrugged and raised his eyebrows, "I do. Temperance will as well. She was asking after you. Has your first job for the Flock nearly lined up."

  I snorted, "Gods. Already? She said two months."

  "She did. But our work is important. Schedules are flexible, except when they're not," he grinned, "so you gonna tell it?"

  I was, and I did.

  The rest of the day, and long into the night, as more disciples came and went.

  I greeted the men as they came. David, Sten, Tom, and the rest. We spoke a little, and some listened a lot. I told the story of my failure and the tragedy of the Vault. Of how the Winter Wyrm had forced us down, and how the Anasisi had killed us in the dark.

  "Wow," Tom, the only man who stuck around for it all, besides Leo, "that's... I don't even know what that is."

  "That's fucked," Said Leo, pouring me another drink, "hell of a way to cut your teeth son."

  "That wasn't even how he cut his teeth. Did you not hear about Hartwell?"

  Leo raised his furry brows, whiskers twitching in interest.

  "That slaver Temperance was looking to take out?"

  "That's the one. Turns out, this guy," Tom slugged me in the shoulder, "was the one to kill the bastard. Heard he burned him alive and made the whole gang watch."

  Wait. How? No one saw what I did to Hartwell. Magic, probably. Damn mystic sneak…

  Leo smirked, "You know, that sounds like the kind of shit Temperance likes. Guess that means you were behind that cutter full of Outcast's coming to town too."

  I nodded, "Mostly true. But actually, I killed his gang first. Miss Marry down at the stables asked me to make them disappear." I grinned, "fed them to my pig."

  Both men laughed.

  I still wasn’t jokin’.

  "Gods, you really are a little outlaw in the making, aren't you? Barely in town three weeks and you're already makin' a name for yourself. You know the Guard's are still asking around, right?"

  "Yep," cut in Tom, "you drew some heat boy. Hartwell and his pack supplied a lot of the local brothels, especially the illicit ones in the market under Uptown. You took a bite out of the Noble's pocket, and they're none too happy."

  I sipped and savored the taste of whiskey, and the notion that I was at least a mild thorn in the side of those bastards. Anyone who'd buy and sell people, nevermind kids, was a monster, and deserved to burn. Deserved worse, if this world were just.

  "Don't worry," said Tom, "we covered your tracks. Well, I did. You owe me a drink."

  "Thanks," I said sincerely and slid my drink across, "debt paid."

  He drank it and smiled, "I like the way you do business, Lorcan. I'm glad Temperance has us working together next."

  Leo blanched and looked at the old and haggard man, "Seriously? She's making him do that?"

  "Yep. Kid proved he's not shy about wetwork. And he needs a good teacher, just like I did."

  "Uh, okay?" I said with a frown and a draw of my cigar. Damn Clarke had given me a real taste for the things.

  Leo looked hard at me and sighed, "This is a good thing, I guess. She say who you're after next?"

  Tom nodded, and his smile was like a razor in his face, "Yep. Magister Lewellyn of House Tylus. Newly come from the Heart of the Empire itself. Congratulations kid," he slapped me on the shoulder and took another drink, "you're gonna spill some rich, blue blood. Ready to pay them back for that ticket to the new world?”

  I wasn’t sure.

  Not anymore.

  “Does it matter?” I said with a sigh, “She’ll have it done whether I like it or not.”

  "Yeah, now you're starting to get it."