Eight 5.27: Scouting the Way II

Fala may have lost her Ritualist talent when she became my beloved, but the knowledge she’d accumulated hadn’t disappeared along with it. She led me through the process, this time asking me to pay special attention to the way my spirit let go of its attachments to my body.

The hope was that by familiarizing myself with the process, I could speed it up and eventually learn to duck into and out of my body at will. Inspiration for the idea had come from the bishkawi spirit king in Slaughter’s Hollow.

So, I did as my beloved asked. The process wasn’t as easy without the benefit of drugs and other magical supports, requiring my spirit to shake loose instead of rising smoothly.

The Deer God could have pulled me up and out, but he stood by to watch instead. Afterward, he nodded his head in approval, a hint of pride in his eyes while I stumbled around on unsteady legs.

“Good hunting,” Fala signed.

A moment later, the extension of Yuki inside her emerged to also sign their well wishes.

The Deer God gestured with his antlers. It was time to go.

We flew through the stone blocking the entrance of our stronghold, then spent a beat to examine the area before continuing on toward the fortress. Once again, I was struck by the lack of ghosts.

As we approached the fortress’s outer wall, the Deer God’s sent his intention for me to stop. He would be the one to enter first, so I nodded and flew up toward the wall walk to keep an eye on things from there.

Then he stepped through into the mine compound, moving like he owned the place, imperious and inscrutable. The sense of his presence grew, and he became heavy in my awareness—it was like having the old Deer God back.

His hooves stood firmly rooted as he surveyed the compound. His eyes dared any and all to come threaten him, but no one did. The compound remained empty except for the unseeing soldiers guarding the entrances to the buildings. The patrolling scouts didn’t react nor did any sorcerers who might’ve been hiding deeper inside the fortress.

The way was apparently clear, so I flew down to join him on the ground. I missed my landing, though, because a force tugged on me as soon as I crossed into the compound proper. My authority let me resist the pull, but it took real willpower to keep from being sucked inside—I sensed the direction—up toward the top of the Eagle Fortress.

The Deer God’s will clamped down on our connection, and my footing suddenly became more solid. It was like wearing weights while walking along the ocean floor; I didn’t have to worry about the current carrying me away.

“Thank you,” I signed.

The Deer God nodded in acknowledgement and stepped forward, leading me toward the mine entrance.

###

The layout of the lower floors matched the information Yuki had pulled from Melida and Hamu. We found the things you’d expect—offices, meeting rooms, a mess hall, and barracks. There were no obvious sources of water, but we did come across a suspicious stone positioned above a large basin. The buckets nearby were still wet from being used earlier in the day.

I knelt to examine one, and the remaining water shivered at my touch. My talents weren’t accessible while spirit journeying, but my authority apparently carried over—to a degree.

A single narrow spiral staircase led up into the restricted areas, the ceiling around it pockmarked with murder holes. They promised a world of hurt to anyone besieging the upper levels.

How did the soldiers get their furniture up the stairs, though? What about the equipment and materials necessary for the new construction? There would need to be either another, perhaps hidden entrance. Either that, or a way to give permission to the stone to let an Earth-Touched move it aside.

And what about the danger of an attacker undermining the supports for the upper levels? That was an enormous weakness to the fortress’s design. Even back on earth, sappers were used to bring down castle walls. They were sure to be even more effective here on Diaksha.

There had to be solutions and countermeasures to these issues. The Maltrans weren’t stupid.

We headed toward the stairs, and the pull on my spirit increased as I went upward. If it weren’t for the Deer God holding me down, the current would’ve likely carried me away even with my authority resisting.

I sent a worried glance his way, but he shook his head in response; the burden was manageable. He could go quite a bit longer without tiring.

The stairs led up into a kill box, the walls dotted with more holes so that defenders could attack those within with impunity. A heavy metal gate barred the way, but the Deer God and I simply passed through it. A team of soldiers stood guard on the other side, the members stationed throughout the room so that they could keep watch outside, as well as below.

A ball of swirling lava hovered over a woman’s shoulder. She had dark, piercing eyes, and the others deferred to her as she walked among them. They kept their distance, though. The air trembled from the heat radiating from the lava.

Every one of them wore an alarm stone around their neck, and every inch of the room’s floor, walls, and ceiling was engraved with runes. Even I could feel the power flowing through them.

The Deer God was eyeing the runes with interest when a second soldier team passed through room. Rows of sharp-looking needles emerged from their leader’s face, and his skin was green, like he was the child born of a cactus and a human being. His eyes were stormy, though his expression was otherwise impassive.

Dark, was my thought, and keeping the rage under control.

The two leaders met, and their hands began to gesture, their bodies blocking the others from seeing their conversation. I moved in for a closer look.

“Moonlight turns red,” Cactus-face signed.

“And the waking world shudders in glee,” replied Lava-shoulder.

They nodded at each other, then Cactus-face led his team off to continue their patrol.

We stuck around for about half an hour, which was how long it took for the patrol to return to the gate area.

When they met this time, Cactus-face signed, “The eagle soars across a crimson sky.”

“And woe to the world still sleeping,” Lava-face replied.

Those lines sounded like they came from a poem, but it wasn’t one I knew. I made a note to check with Tegen in the morning.

A half an hour later, Cactus-face returned, and I got to hear the next two lines, which were about blood-soaked fields and citizens reveling. A part of me wondered if the piece hadn’t been written by someone named Edgy McEdgeLord.

Briefly, I considered staying there all night to collect more lines, but decided instead to continue scouting the fort. If the team later collectively decided we needed more, then the Deer God and I would return the next night.

So we left to explore the first of the secured floors, and to no surprise, we found rooms stacked with bundles of arrows, spears, and javelins. There were also barrels of oil, and huge cauldrons for boiling it.

Another room contained cords and cords of firewood, though where the smoke was meant to go was a mystery. The only visible vents were the arrowslits overlooking the mining compound.

One question that was answered was how the original builders planned to deal with sappers. All the walls, the floor, and the ceilings were heavily reinforced. Like ridiculously so, including with a density of runes unmatched by anywhere else I’d ever been. Clearly, these were not people who believed in taking chances.

Going up a floor, we found the infirmary. There were a pair of primitive operating theaters at one side and rows of cots on the other. Low walls separated the sections, as well as the cots from each other. Anyone fighting through the space would have to cross these obstacles to get to the way leading up—another narrow spiral staircase.

One heavily-reinforced door led to the dispensary, and inside were several cabinets stocked with potions and elixirs in a variety of containers. The labels were coded, though, so it wasn’t obvious what effects they might have.

Another noteworthy point: the supports for the second floor were just as heavily reinforced as the first. So much so that I started thinking that the original builders had designed the fortress with the expectation that it would be both successfully sapped and still remain intact.

They must’ve been mad, those original builders. Then again, things that might otherwise seem like lunacy became reasonable when you added magic, talents, and paths to the mix.

The layouts of the next two floors were similar to what we found in the unrestricted areas, like the architectural drawings had been copied and pasted. The only differences were the structural reinforcements.

Though the layouts were the same, the numbers weren’t. There were more soldiers sleeping in the upper fortress than the lower—I counted one hundred and twelve of them split between five different barracks.

Their leaders had separate, private rooms, but the rest slept in bunkbeds. Their weapons, armor, and rest of their gear were stored in nearby cabinets.

All the team leaders were either silvered or dark. As for the common soldiers, they were either dawn or dusk. The situation wasn’t quite as Hamu understood it, but it was still twenty-plus soldiers over Level 10.

As I walked between the beds, it confirmed for me that we couldn’t assault this place directly. Anything other than subterfuge would get us killed.

I also had to wonder again at how the soldiers got their supplies up here. The cabinets couldn’t have been easy to lug up the stairs. And what about the mess hall? There was no way the cooks could feed all these people using what could be hand-carried.

Fala hadn’t found a back entrance when she’d prodded at the fortress’s walls, but maybe there was something she’d missed. Or the way required a key or spell to open.

I gestured, and the Deer God. Time to climb another narrow staircase.

###

Halfway, I felt myself gulp. A boundary had been crossed, and the pull on my spirit increased once more, my hair and my clothes billowing upward.

The atmosphere also felt drier and somehow more… brittle. Like the water had been sucked out of this place, leaving it in a state at the edge of cracking. I also heard the faint sound of old sheets of paper being rubbed against each other.

The Deer God paused to steady himself. I knew him well enough to recognize the anger he hid behind his eyes. Honestly, I felt it too. My spirit found this place unpleasant. No, the feeling was stronger than that—it was repugnant.

So, we stood there for a moment. I put an arm on his back and felt how he planted his hooves on the stair treads. Only when we were ready did we continue upward.

At the landing, a second gate barred the way, and the soldiers guarding it were all silvered. They stood at an immaculate attention, their eyes alert and their weapons at the ready. Under their feet, a five-pointed star had been engraved into the floor, with the soldiers positioned at each of the points.

None of them moved an inch. If it wasn’t for seeing them blink and the rise and fall of their breathing, I would’ve thought they were statues.

I counted two spears, two swords, and a Warhammer. There were also basins behind the soldiers, each one containing something different—a lit fire, a large glass jug filled with blue gas, several stacks of iron needles, a potted plant that looked like a young fern, and a pyramid of iron balls, each the size of a small marble.

What a waste of talent! If I didn’t miss my guess, these soldiers were element-touched. They could’ve been doing so much good out in the world, but they were instead stuck inside a mountain guarding a door.

And the nuttiest part? There were sure to be more of them, sleeping in their beds, since this was just the night shift. A look in the adjacent rooms all but confirmed it, since we found more containers filled with various elements and tools—everything from a barrel of soil to a harp with metal strings.

As we explored, I came to think of this most-restricted area as a fortress within the fortress. The soldiers up here had their own mess hall, latrine, storage rooms, and offices. Each was also assigned their own individual quarters, with many of them feeling truly lived in. They were full of art, books, and other creature comforts.

There were twenty-five of these rooms, and it was absolutely the single most concentrated collection of power I’d seen. Not one of the people sleeping in their beds was under Level 10. The Maltran emperors must surely value this place.

And yet, having said that, the next stairway had been left unguarded. Perhaps those in charge thought it necessary with all the other defenses keeping their enemies at bay?

Climbing up, the pull on my spirit grew once again, and every step felt like I was trying to ford a fast-flowing river. Also, the noise of paper sheets rubbing against each other grew louder, and it was joined by a crackling sound, as if someone was crumpling up newspaper.

The source wasn’t immediately obvious, though. The stairway opened onto a circular lobby, bisected on two sides by a corridor. There were also four doors that led to large offices, grandly furnished but currently empty of people.

To one side, the corridor led to the defenses overlooking the compound below. Going the other direction, we found what could only be described as a research facility.

In one room, broad sheets of paper had been posted to the wall. They were covered in a mixture of runes, mathematical notation, and coded text. Another room was full of tools useful for working with stone, but from the way the Deer God eyed them, they were clearly magical. An alchemy lab came next, and then a ritual room big enough to fit all the hunters in Voorhei’s lodge.

As we approached the final door at the end of the corridor, the sound grew louder and louder, and the feeling in the air grew even worse. Even though I didn’t have a body, my fingers trembled. Whether it was fear or anger, though, I couldn’t tell you.

The door opened onto an observation room. The ceilings were higher here, cutting into the floor above us, and the opposite wall was completely made of clear glass.

My eyes instantly locked onto a large boulder shaped like an egg on the other side. Its surface had been polished smooth and covered in runes. It sat on a similarly engraved bronze pedestal, with bronze tines holding it in place, like it was an enormous jewel.

Another, smaller pedestal sat in front of the boulder, though this one seemed more like an altar.

I walked up to the glass until my nose pressed up against its surface. It wouldn’t let me through. My hand came up to rest against it, then curled into a fist.

The Maltrans had engraved every inch of the room’s surfaces with runes, though the designs were markedly different—older and hungrier. They looked like they’d been painted with bronze, which glinted under the light of the candle stones embedded among them.

We’d clearly arrived at the heart of the Maltrans’ Project Birthright, and what caught my attention a gaping hole in the fabric between life and death. It surrounded the boulder; the crackling sound was the boundary breaking bit by bit to keep it open.

And at the center, looking out from the boulder, hovering on the other side of life, it was the ghost of that bastard—Baxta.