Chapter 9-1

The trio – it felt like it was okay to call themselves a trio now – headed up north, in what Anjanette had dubbed Operation: Get The Hell Out of Dodge. Other than the Kendran checkpoint they had to pass through to get out from under the red sky, they avoided leaving any sort of trail – whether physical or in the minds of others. They used aliases, hid in inn rooms when they weren’t camping in the bushes, and never ran scams. After every camp Leonas spent nearly an hour removing all traces of their existance. There was a reason for the sudden secrecy: they were now the hunted instead of the hunters.

“Valgard and his remaining knight are going to be after us now,” Leonas had said. “We don’t need to run into them again, but they need to find us. So we lay low and hope they miss us.”

“Well, we beat them once,” said Milly.

“My arm would like to remind you that even ‘beating’ them was not a pleasant experience,” said Leonas. “So let’s avoid unnecessary fights. Meanwhile, we’ll head in the general direction of Heka where the next book should be located.”

“We’re going to Heka?” said Anjanette. “Sweet! I’m gonna get high and find an orgy!”

Milly blushed, and Leonas chuckled. “Yeah, it’ll be good to blow off some steam after all of this crap. But until then, stay disciplined.”

“You know I won’t,” Anjanette said with a syruppy-sweet tone in her voice.

“Yeah yeah.”

* * *

Derrick & Delia was a long-running series of comedy ilscs about the titular pair of adventurers. It was mainstream, populist fare with nothing interesting or noteworthy, but it was reasonably well-crafted and hence was one of the msot popular things going. It was also the only one of Anjanette’s ilscs that Milly and Leonas could sit through.

They had set up a claustrophobic camp in a forest grove at night, better to hide from any pursuers. The light from the ilsc caught in the twisting tree branches, creating grotesque shadows. As they headed to the coastal nation of Heka the weather got warmer and the vegetation more plentiful. Milly had stopped wearing her heavy cloak and instead just carried it for storage, and even Leonas had mostly abandoned his dressy shirts for more casual wear. Between that and travelling he now looked more like a farmboy than the gentleman merchant he tried to portray. Of course, Anjanette never wore much in the first place, so she didn’t need to adjust at all.

Anjanette sat chuckling at the ilsc, while Milly idly read The Art & Culture of the Cephalod People. Leonas was reading over the latest letter from Ash for the sixth time/. The edges of the paper were creased from being clutched with frustration so often.

“So what’s up with your boy toy?” said Anjanette.

“Remarkably little, and yet he makes a ten-page letter out of it,” said Leonas.

“Sounds like he could use an editor,” said Milly.

“Aw, he just likes you is all,” said Anjanette, gently elbowing Leonas in the ribs.

Leonas shrugged. “To be honest, if I’d known that one night stand would get me so much junk mail I wouldn’t have done it. Anjanette, how do I break this off painlessly? I mean painlessly for me, of course.”

“Come on, what’s so bad about the guy?”

“Just too simple for me,” said Leonas.

Anjanette rolled her eyes and went back to watching her ilsc.

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Chapter 8-5

Valgard had never smelt corpses before. They didn’t smell pleasant at all. He was able to hold his lunch down for now, which was as much of a victory as he was likely to get today.

“Denall... Temac...” Lloyd said, emotion creeping into his normally stoic voice.

Valgard patted his knight on the back. It felt strange. “Do not worry. We shall track them down and get our revenge.”

“Of course, your highness,” Lloyd said.

“But first, I have a favour to ask you.”

Lloyd looked up, surprised. “A favour?”

“When we run into those vagabonds again... I don’t want to be useless like I was here. So I ask you, teach me in the ways of sword and body. Subject me to what ever you would subject a new recruit to.”

Lloyd turned away. “Your highness, that would be highly improper.”

“More improper than disobeying a direct order from your lord?” said Valgard.

“I understand,” said Lloyd. “We shall begin training tonight. But if you regret this... consider yourself forewarned.”

Valgard cracked a smile. “Well, I fully expect to regret it.”

The smile faded quickly. Valgard said the last rights for Denall and Temac, and took their swords so that they could be planted in their homeland.

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Chapter 8-4

Valgard’s lungs burned. He knew he hadn’t run far,but sweat drenched his silk shirt and cape. His bloody nose was a nail hammered into the centre of his face, and the blood was flowing around his mouth to give him a crimson beard. He admonished himself for becoming pampered. Pausing for only a second to lean up against a tree, Valgard galnced back to see if any of his knights had followed. There was Lloyd, running over a hill. Not out of breath. Of course.

“Is it over?” Valgard said, between long sucking breaths.

“At least one of the mongrels is in this forest, I know not of the other two,” said Lloyd.

A single drop of blood dripped onto Valgard’s right shoulder.

He looked up to see a sheepish-looking Leonas, shoulder still spitting out blood, perched on a tree branch above him. Leonas shrugged and leapt down from the tree, fired a burst of flame at Lloyd and took off again. Lloyd danced out of the way of the blast, but his sword was caught in it and shattered into a hundred warped pieces.

“My blade!”

“The tomes!” said Valgard. “I had them in my pack and it is gone... did he take them? I did not sense a thing!”

“He is an experienced vagabond,” said Lloyd. “But he cannot run far with that injury. I shall catch him and bring him to justice!”

Lloyd took off at a gallop. Valgard was behind him, trying but failing to keep up.

* * *
Anjanette and Milly came over the same hill a few moments later and found Leonas leaning against a tree trunk, changing out of his bloodstained shirt. His shoulder had been magically healed. The flesh over the wound looked unnatural, a patchwork replacement from stock parts, but it was no longer bleeding and the bones were barely even out of place.

The girls, on the other hand, were much worse for wear. Anjanette had a black eye and clothes drenched with sweat. Milly’s plain robes were caked with spots of dried blood, her right eye was a nasty shade of brown and wouldn’t seem to open, and she moved gingerly, afraid of breaking anything more.

“Okay, we’ve taken care of tubby and... martial arts boy,” Anjanette said.

“Martial arts boy?” said Leonas.

“Hey, I just got my lights rearranged,” said Anjanette. “Don’t question my wordplay now, Leo. Just tell me where the other two are.”

“They took off after me in that direction,” Leonas said, pointing deeper into the woods.

Milly laughed, then clutched her ribs. “The old loop-back-around?”

“She’s learning,” said Anjanette. “That always works on linear minds. But what about the books?”

Leonas lifted Valgard’s pouch, a shiny golden pack with silver-encrusted linings. He pulled it open to reveal four of the Ancient tomes.

Anjanette’s smile couldn’t have been removed from her face with a chisel. “Hell yes! Let’s get going before they realize that we’re in the other direction.”

Milly bent over and went into a long, hacking series of coughs. When she finished she straightened up and said “Um, let’s just hope we don’t run into those two again.”

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Chapter 8-3

Anjanette was shrieking for him, but Denall had her by the arm and wasn’t letting go. He bowed his head, all of a sudden a religious man. And then... nothing. He looked up, realizing he was alive. The pain in his arm rushed back anew, and he realized that he was bleeding, his new shirt painted red. Strangely, he found that more important than the wound.

“Draw your weapon,” said Lloyd. “I will not kill a man when he is helpless.”

“Your loss,” Leonas hacked before surging up and raking the knight’s eyes. As Lloyd fell back he ran into the forest, arm swinging every which was, sending explosions of pain through his mind.

Milly had turned to look at Leonas’s injury, and in the meantime Temac had kicked her in the face. The kick felt like a mountain falling in on her, her senses jumping around as her head spun. He moved in to finish her, but Milly frantically blocked, combat trainng taking over. She saw his face briefly, in the eye of the storm of fists, and he was calm, relaxed even. That comforted her as Temac hit her in the face, the arms, the stomach. Her body jerked and spasmed, not entirely in her control.

Denall had drawn a sword. A big sword. It was as big as the fake sword Anjanette liked to use as a fakeout, but she had a feeling this one wasn’t hollow. He charged with a deafening roar and hurled the blade at her. She ducked under it. It was less easy than before. Anjanette was starting to pant, her limbs were becoming heavy with exertion. She turned and ran.

“Come back!” Denall said. He charged her like a bull. She heard the sound of his heavyfeet crushing stone underneath, getting quicker behind her. How was he of all people catching up to her. Oh well.

Anjanette slowed, tiring. She closed her eyes, focusing on the crunch of cobblestone. Timing would be everything. Denall reached her, kept running, rushing her like he had Leonas... and she jumped, flipping off his back and landing behind him. Denall kept running, out of control, charging into the stone statue of the Tiger. His head impacted against the toe of the hero and he collapsed, falling on his greatsword. The huge blade skewered Denall sideways and propped him up like a grim marionette. Anjanette grimaced and turned her attention to the battle between Milly and Temac.

They were moving almost too fast for the eye to follow, but even so it was obvious who was winning. Milly was backed up against the base of the statue and even then was accumulating bruises and cuts at a rapid rate. One of her knives had been knocked away, the other could only be used to block, and it never pierced flesh. Anjanette could read a desperate, sad look on her face.

Sighing and resigning herself to a sore head in the morning, Anjanette leaped into the fray.

Barely looking away, Temac’s hand withdrew and snapped forward like a viper, smashing into Anjanette’s face and knocking her flat onto her back. But barely looking away was enough. Milly’s knife flashed in the sun and lodged itself into Temac’s throat. He looked up, smiling, before a gurgling wave of blood spilled onto the cobblestone ground.

“Well that was unpleasant,” Anjanette said, rubbing her eye.

Milly was just panting, holding her chest half to keep her up and half to count how many ribs were broken. (The answer was two.) “You don’t have to tell me.”

“So what do you say we go find Redshirt and make sure he’s not dead yet.”

Milly just nodded and started limping towards the forest.

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Chapter 8-2

For a national hero, Akanan Duvort, better known as “The Tiger”, was strikingly ugly. At least his statue was, and it stood to reason that the real thing was even worse. Incongruous lumps of fat laid in all the wrong places beneath his armour, his face was mercifully covered in an uneven beard, and his face had been punched in one too many times. Nevertheless, the Kendranians had seen fit to build him a statue that stood ten men high, atop an ornate tomb.

“Pretty swanky,” Anjanette said. “What did this choad do to deserve this?”

“Slew a vampire, led the Kendranian revolution, and happened to write a number of literary classics that are impossible to get outside of his home country,” Milly answered. “Um, actually could we—“

“No,” said Leonas.

Their horses trotted up to the tomb, glaring at the four horses that were already there. They were thoroughbreads, beautiful animals that carried themselves with a haughty air. One of their saddles likely cost more than all of the trio’s horses combined. Leonas quickly slit the first one’s throat.

“Uh, what did you do that for?” Milly asked.

“These are Valgard’s horses,” said Leonas. “At least I hope so. If these belong to some tourists we’ve got a lot of explaining to do.” He slit the next horse’s throat. It was at this point that the two remaining animals got wise and started bucking and roaring.

A slow clap echoed from the tomb. “They attack the horses. Truly, what noblemen we are dealing with here.”

Valgard stood in front of his guard, their golden armour shining like a second sun behind him. “So you have somehow managed to escape justice. Well, it is apparent we will just have to dis—“

He was cut off by Anjanette forgoing the witty banter and just jumping on him. With one hand she held him down, while her other flashed out in painful blows. She felt the distinct crunch of a nose breaking under her knuckles. Valgard flailed at her uselessly, until the gargantuan Denall hauled her off. He pressed her against his chest in some sort of wrestling hold, his boa constrictor arms pressing the air out of her lungs, until a firm boot to the crotch put an end to that. Denall clutched his wounded equipment, and Anjanette gracefully flew into the air to deliver an air-cutting roundhouse kick to his head.

Milly had also drawn her weapons and charged Valgard, only to be interrupted by Temac. His palm – at least she guessed it was his palm, it was too fast to see – felt like a battering ram to her chest. She stumbled back, and the diminutive warrior stepped in front of her, dusting off his hand.

Milly’s blades flashed, cutting through she air with a slick shriek, but they may as well have stayed holstered for all it mattered. She had missed, her blades inches short of the martial artist. A second strike also missed by a hair, and a third. The fluster of embarassment rose to her face. Temac was dodging her strikes without even moving noticeably.

The remaining knight, Lloyd, stood by his master. He struck a defensive pose, shielding Valgard behind him. “Run, your highness! We’ll deal with these brigands.”

Leonas frowned and raised his tattooed hand. Red flame errupted from it, a blinding burst that left scorched black stones in its wake. Lloyd pushed Valgard out of the way, covering him from even the blistering heat. The streak of fire, almost looking like a giant’s arrow, flew by and took off half the foot of the Tiger’s statue.

Milly continued to dance with her swords, but Temac effortlessly evaded her blows. He spun around and swept out her legs, sending her to the ground, world spinning around her. Temac moved into capitalize, but a fire blast by Leonas cut him off.

Anjanette and Denall were putting on a more sedate mirror of that fight. Denall swung, his fists like great hammers, but they all missed Anjanette by a foot. Unfortunately, while her kicks and rapidfire punches were much more accurate, they only hit Denall’s ornate armour and she was soon nursing red and aching knuckles.

“We don’t have time to fight with these guys!” Anjanette shouted. “Leo, go after the prince!”

Lloyd quickly rushed the mage in response. “You shall not move from this spot until you fall down dead, so I swear!”

“Nah, that doesn’t sound like a good idea,” said Leonas, pitching another burst of fire at him underhand. Lloyd leapt over it, clearing it with professional ease. Leonas whistled in appreciation, staring into the blinding sun, until he realized that behind it lay Lloyd’s vibrant blade. It was too late. The knight’s sword ripped and tore into his shoulder, like being bit by a wolf, no not a wolf, a sadistic and intelligent wolf bent on inflicting the most pain possible. Leonas didn’t want to surpress the pain, he couldn’t think enough to want it.

Leonas fell back onto his ass, and realized he was going to die.

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Chapter 8-1

“Are you certain about this, Prince?” Chairman Reyes said for what had to be the fiftieth time that day. The chairman was fat, perpetually grinning, and surrounded by splendor – his existence was a strong challenge against the alleged equality of Kendrans. “I can have the army excavate every square inch of that tomb until we find this jewel. There’s no need for you to get your hands duty.”

“Ah, but there are some things we must get out hands dirty for,” said Valgard, sipping politely at the bitter Kendran wine. “Besides which, I could not ask such of you after you have been so generous to our nation.

“Well, I guess you’d rather hurt your body before you hurt your pride,” Reyes chortled. “I remember being like that when I was young. No offense meant, of course.”

Valgard smiled cordially, but his icy eyes betrayed him. “None taken. If I may say so, though, I believe that choosing pride over body is the measure of a man.”

“Well, I guess that’s one way of looking at it,” Reyes said condescendingly.

“Anyway, I’ll let you go to the tomb undisturbed. No harm in it, as far as I can see. But if you could write a letter, maybe, explaining the situation... I don’t want an international incident if you wind up a monster’s dinner.”

“That won’t happen,” interrupted Temac. It was the first time any of Valgard’s knights had spoken during the meeting, though they had sat by their master’s side for the entirety of it.

“Easy, Temac,” said Valgard, remembering to repremand the small knight later. He was a skilled fighter, but sometimes forgot his place. “I would be happy to write such a thing.”

Reyes clasped his hands together in relief. “Excellent! I have been having such a hard time with the press recently...”

An eternity of small talk later,Valgard left the capitol and was headed to the Tiger’s Tomb on horseback. His horse, Jolten, was a thoroughbred of thoroughbreds, a gorgeous white mare that ran like sound. Accompanying him were his three knghts.
Valgard looked over the trio with a sense of pride. They were hand-selected from thousands of knights, all salivating at the chance to be a part of the prince’s personal guard. Denall was a huge man, with bear-like proportions as well as viciousness. Temac stood in stark contrast to him, tiny but making up for his size with skill in hand-to-hand combat. Valgard didn’t like the martial arts, most having descended from the celaphods, but he had to admit they were effective. Finally there was Lloyd, a throwback to the olden days where knights were honourable and admired. Polite, courageous, and a god with a blade, he was everything Valgard
They had protected Valgard from so much as a scratch on the quest. He knew now that he had chosen wisely.

Shaking his head to refocus, Valgard kept his eyes on the road ahead. Once they got this shard, they would be over halfway there. Not far to go now before Alleria got its pride back.

* * *

“Wait, you think that fucker’s right ahead of us?” Anjanette asked between spoonfuls of stew.

“His name was Valgard,” said Milly. She wasn’t sure why she felt like defending him.

Leonas nodded, still peering at the tracks on the ground. “See? He has the Allerian royal crest on his horse shoes. Not to mention he visited here quite recently.”

“Not exactly the sneakiest guy, is he?” said Anjanette.

“He’s probably never had to be,” Leonas said.

“So what happens if we get there and he’s looted the place out?” said Anjanette.

Leonas paused to think. He looked back to their horses, cheap animals they had picked up in Barret. They probably couldn’t match the speed of Valgard’s steeds.

“These tracks are recent, so with luck we’ll catch them on their way out. It all depends on how big the tomb is, and how tough it is to find the book. Girls, do you think we can take prince-boy in a fight?”

“It’s not Valgard that’s the problem,” said Milly. “It’s those bodyguards he has with him... knights, I guess. I don’t know if you guys remember this, but they kind of mopped the floor with us last time.”

Leonas nodded somberly. “We’ll need some firepower then. Let me cast a spell.”

Milly perked up. “A combat spell?”

“Yeah, I actually can be useful in a fight. Try to hide your surprise.”

Leonas pulled out a small knife and wittled away at the skin of his left hand with it. Anjanette watched with growing uneasy, getting the feeling that she should be stopping him. Face crunching up with pain, Leonas carved a quick diamond formation into the back of his hand. The knife didn’t cut deep, but drew slight crimson lines.

“Great demon lords,” Leonas recited, voice high with pain. “I appeal to you, grant your powers to a mere mortal. I call upon the house of Agaren, warmaster of Hell, who is the hidden hand behind every blade. I offer you this hand so that it may become a weapon. I shall do your bidding in using it for destruction.”

There was a moment’s pause, and a flash of light and a great wind burst forth from the circle on Leonas’s hand. The three shielded their eyes as the cuts healed up, leaving a fiery brand on his hand. He screamed in pain as he felt the diamond mark being burnt into his hand. When the spell subsided, he saw the symbol there, marked in black.

“So... what did that do?” Milly asked.

“Gave me a nifty new tatoo,” Leonas said, still staring at the mark. “And I dearly hope that’s all I get out of it.”

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Chapter 7-6

It was the first time in her life that Milly had been hung over. She dearly hoped that there wouldn’t be a second time.

“It’s okay, sister,” Anjanette said as she held Milly’s hair back. She was surprisingly chipper.

Milly coughed and unleashed another torrent of puke into the toilet. She noted that she was spending entirely too much of this quest vomiting, and resolved to change that just as soon as last night’s dinner had made its way entirely out and her head finally kicked the 3rd Imperial Percussion Band out.

When she was done, Anjanette hauled her up and gave her a cup of water, which Milly gurgled and spat back out into the toilet. “Why the hell aren’t you sick?” Milly demanded.

“Experience, my girl,” Anjanette said. “Experience.”

Still feeling queasy and with the mother of all headaches, Milly wandered over to her bed to lay down. Leonas was still gone. She stared up at the ceiling, idly wondering when it had started moving on its own.

“Anjanette,” Milly said. “Thank you for... rescuing me, I guess, last night. I didn’t really mean what I said about you, I was just...”

“Frustrated? Drunk? Honest?” Anjanette supplied. “It’s okay, Milly. Hell, I liked it.”

“Really? Well, in that case... uh, you’re a whore.”

“Come on!” Anjanette laughed. “Put a little passion behind it!”

Leonas walked through the door, looking a bit unkempt but still businesslike. “All right girls, time to get going.”

“Where were you?” Anjanette asked, thirsty for gossip.

“Having sex, where were you?”

“Not having sex,” Anjanette pouted. “But hey, it’s all good. Was he good looking?”

“I really don’t want to talk about this,” said Leonas, in the process of packing what little had been unpacked.

“Well too bad, I do,” Anjanette insisted. “What was his name? Was he good in bed? How—“

Milly, who both had momentarily forgotten, spoke up. “Anjanette, if he doesn’t want to say anything, let it be.”

Anjanette mock-pouted. “Alright, if you insist. Did he put up much of a fuss when you were going? The last thing we need is another one of Leonas’s angry ex-lovers after us.”

No response.

“You did say goodbye in the morning, didn’t you?”

No response.

“No way,” Anjanette chuckled. She attached herself to Leonas’s back in a half-hug, half-submission hold. “My little Leo has grown up into a big ol’ womanizer! Er, manizer. Isn’t that so cute, Milly?”

“Uh...”

“I decided it would be better to spare the messy goodbye,” Leonas said with all the dignity he could muster.

“So you couldn’t say it to his face,” Anjanette said. “Chicken! Bawk bawk bawk!”
It was at that moment that a songbird, a sleek black falcon, flew through the open window and dropped a message into the hands of Leonas. He opened it up and read it out loud, increasingly incredulous.

“Dear Leonas: You gave me your songbird number last night when you were drunk. You’re not getting away that easily. Write to you later – love, Ash.”

“I like him,” Anjanette said.

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