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  Crowlat chuckled. The sound was like banging rocks. "You blame all your ills on that soul, do you?"

  "When the glove fits."

  Her head shook slowly. "You are blind to his purpose. You are even blind to yours."

  "Listen, old woman," warned Izzy, "if you have something to say, out with it. Otherwise tell us where we can find this 'architect of your rebirth.' "

  "He gave us a gift," chimed Havlat.

  "And a curse," added Somlat.

  Crowlat, the elder sister, smiled. "Lucifer has been waiting for you."

  "Then show us where he is," Izzy fumed.

  "Dear girl, we are bound to this city now. It is our home. The man you seek has no such place. He waits for you where you were to complete your quest. A fugitive awaiting a pair of thieves."

  My brow wrinkled. Crowlat seemed to see right through me.

  "That crown is not yours, boy. Can't you see what it means? The city?"

  "He is blind," asserted Havlat.

  "The homes?"

  "He is deaf," said Somlat.

  "Do you not understand we all fight for the same thing?"

  I clenched my teeth and looked into their grotesque faces. The witches were both emboldened and humbled, wizened through castigation.

  What was more, their observational powers were straight-up scary. The crown of the wild king was safely tucked inside Cleric Vagram's satin bag. Neither the kraken nor the warden had sensed the crown through that protection, but these blind witches saw it clear. They knew about it all.

  "Lucifer's at the Salt Sea," I concluded. "He doesn't live in Shorehome any more than we do."

  "This is a town for pagans and pirates," said Havlat.

  "And those who do not judge them," added Somlat.

  "It is our home," Crowlat decreed. "Your fallen one's work was done in Stronghold. Shorehome is the natural conclusion. Now leave our city before you're no longer allowed to do so."

  My eyes narrowed. This defeated witch didn't get to play with me like this. Taunt me, tell me snippets of the whole, then dismiss me. I had half a mind to strike with my spear, the consequences be damned.

  "I'm not—" I started.

  Cries of alarm from the south end of the city interrupted us.

  Crowlat smiled. "Your time is running out, boy."

  Izzy skipped to the top of the stands. "Vagram," she muttered.

  I looked from her to the witches. Smug. Full of answers. Then I growled and charged from the Great Well.

  The southern border of Shorehome was lined with slum housing. Some of it was designed and much of the rest was makeshift additions. New and necessary housing for the influx of pagans. Izzy and I sprinted down the alleys toward the cries of battle, past scores of curious goblins and imps. As we turned the corner, Vagram and the crusader swung swords at a handful of men.

  "Vile pagans!" screamed the cleric, his swords shining like the sun as he decapitated a goblin.

  "This is keeping a low profile?" I grumbled.

  "I'm surprised they lasted this long," remarked Izzy.

  We barreled into the fray, backing the goblins off with a tornado spin and an ice wall.

  "Let's get out of here," I urged the crusaders.

  "Back off!" snapped the cleric, eyes wild. "They have this coming."

  I grabbed Vagram and he swiped one of his swords at me. I had to dash backward to avoid getting cut. I stooped on my knees for a moment, ready to strike. Then I raised an empty hand. "We found Lucifer," I said. "But he's not in the city."

  Izzy swiped her staff horizontally to keep the pagans at bay. "Our cover's blown. We need to get out of here before all the crime gangs in Shorehome get a bead on us."

  The cleric waved off his frenzy and took in the scene, almost as if surprised. He lowered his swords. "Where?"

  "Follow me." I turned and made for the main gate.

  The outmatched goblins followed us, but only halfheartedly. The wall of the city was within reach, and it offered nothing like the security enjoyed at Shorehome. Small, wooden. The wall was a guideline more than a fortification. The guards at the gate were similarly ineffective, more worried about threats from without than within. They certainly raised the alarm as our commotion grew into a citywide threat, but our pursuers were all too happy to see us hitting the south road out of Shorehome.

  None followed. At least for now. And it wasn't the kraken looming before us this time...

  0820 Darkstalkers

  Boots skidded over loose rocks as we slowed our frenetic pace. I scanned the terrain behind us. No pursuers. Maybe the goblin inhabitants of Shorehome really were tired of war.

  "What were you trying to do?" I snapped at Vagram. "Take on the whole town yourself?"

  "They brought it on themselves," he muttered drily.

  "I'm not so sure they deserve it."

  "That's sacrilege."

  I shook my head against the mindless babble. "I'm just saying, are the goblins really so evil for wanting a home?" Vagram was horrified by my question. "They didn't force anyone to flee the city," I clarified.

  "And you're taking a criminal kingpin's word on the state of affairs in a town he wishes to control? We both saw the kraken. The Squid's Tooth was stolen from the Great Well before it was flooded. The only one with the resources to do so is Lucifer. He removed Shorehome's protection from the pagans. He gave them the power. That's what this is about."

  My face darkened. I didn't know what to make of it. On the one hand, I wasn't naive enough to think Papa Brugo acted on anyone's behalf but his own. On the other, that goblin wife and child didn't look like they were training to make another run at Stronghold.

  "They're pagans," stressed the cleric. "Don't forget they attacked your city, intent on killing everyone inside."

  "I didn't. But maybe... I dunno. Maybe all the goblins aren't the same."

  Vagram simmered as I voiced my train of thought.

  "From Brugo's account, which is easily believable, most of the pagans scattered into the wild instead of settling in Shorehome. We can confirm that just by using our eyes. It was General Azzyrk who led the charge against Stronghold. According to Brugo, he's among the pagans who moved elsewhere."

  "Don't forget the witches," added Izzy.

  The cleric's eyes flared. "What witches?"

  "The same boggarts who raised Orik from the mountain," I answered.

  "They were in Shorehome? That is proof of the city's treacherous intent."

  I shook my head. "No. They were repentant. Imprisoned for their actions in the death of their people. It's almost as if the pagans in Shorehome don't want war anymore. What if they're simply fighting for survival, like everyone else?"

  "But they're not everyone else," spat Vagram. "They're witches. You should have taken their heads."

  "Come on," I urged. "Is that the best you can do? Play out the scenario with me. Let's think about this."

  The cleric ground his teeth together as we trudged north. "You're suggesting what? That the little beasts can think for themselves?"

  "I mean, why not? We encountered that one ogre traveling with the bandits, didn't we? Humans and goblins working together, whether for evil or good. One would imply the other."

  "Blasphemy. Nothing good can come from pagan ways. You think just because the kraken held off smashing us to smithereens means it can be befriended?" He halted his march and turned to me. "You think, if we were surrounded by a superior force from Shorehome, that they wouldn't gleefully carve the flesh from our bones right here and now?"

  I didn't answer. The clash would no doubt be violent.

  "They're not like us," he asserted. "They don't think. They're monsters."

  Vagram resumed his march and I grumbled along. Maybe he wasn't wrong. Not completely, anyway. I wondered if there was a difference between named mobs and generic mobs. I studied Vagram and the crusader at his side. They were a perfect parallel to the argument, in the NPC world at least. They were both AI. Did Vagram have more autonomy of tho
ught than the crusader without a name? What exactly constituted sentience in this place? Were the AI logic routines so good they could fool me? And if their motives were just reduced to a series of instructions, what were those instructions?

  I remembered something Saint Peter had said about the goblins. They were a necessary part of the ecosystem. Vital to the health of Haven.

  "I need to know I can trust you," said Vagram. "When the battle comes to us, and it will, I need to know you won't go soft on the enemy."

  I twisted my lips uncomfortably. "It depends on who the enemy is."

  The cleric whirled around on me. "The enemy is the faltering of thought!"

  Izzy stepped between us and put a firm hand on each of our chests. We weren't about to draw weapons or anything, but her actions highlighted how heated the discussion was becoming.

  "We don't have time for infighting," she said. "We don't need to align our political ideals. Heaven knows I can press on without buddying up with a bunch of self-righteous knights. And you catechists see me as a blasphemous mystic. That's fine by me, as long as we shut our holes about it and move on." Her voice shifted deeper to convey urgency. "Remember, the last time we traveled through these parts, we were being hunted."

  Cleric Vagram's blond curls fell over his face. "The warden."

  I produced the stag crown, safely in the satin sack. "The bag will mask its presence, right?"

  "It should."

  I nodded and put the relic away. "Maybe Hood's not even out here. Maybe he sensed the crown when I showed it to the kraken. With any luck, he'll be busy searching Shorehome."

  Izzy's lips jutted forward. "Then let's pipe down, keep an eye out, and focus on the prize."

  Vagram tightened his fists. "The fallen one."

  "Give this man a cookie." Izzy stomped toward the sea breeze.

  It wasn't as fresh as before, at the crags. We'd traveled farther northwest this time, toward the circular embankment that blocked off an artificial sea from the rest of the ocean, where a large vessel sailed past in the distance. As we marched, the shallows extended before us like a giant hot tub built into the side of a much larger pool.

  The Salt Sea.

  Heavy brine and rotting fish wafted into our faces over a wild wind. I puckered my lips and scrunched my nose, but it barely helped. I folded a length of the cowl over my face like a mask, which seemed to work better. As a bonus, I bet I looked really badass too. We pressed forward to the shallow beach, where what could barely be called waves lapped against crystallized sand. Our boots crunched over it like snow.

  "The Salt Sea is a dead sea," noted Izzy. "It's closed off from the ocean. Only gets an influx of water when the tide comes in and the waves jump the breakwater. The solution is so overdosed with salt that it litters the beachfront. That means, with any luck, there's nothing living in these waters."

  "Notably no krakens," I said hopefully.

  "It's much too shallow for that," added the cleric as he and the crusader marched straight into the sea.

  "Your armor," I cautioned.

  "It's much too shallow for that," he repeated. We watched as the two of them trudged through knee-high water over a giant sandbar.

  The round sea could have contained all of Shorehome within it, but it was so flat and open we could see it all at once. Calm waters cut off by a circular rock outcropping. The devil's cereal bowl. A few rock formations jutted out from the water, and the crusaders were clearly marching toward one. I studied it and could barely make it out.

  "There's a cave," I noted.

  "And Lucifer's inside," said Izzy.

  "He has to be."

  She sighed nervously. I liked to think of Izzy as the most powerful player in all of Haven, but the truth was that distinction belonged to none other than Lucifer. He'd hacked his abilities long ago. Protected himself from the multiple wipes all other players endured. There was no telling what level he was, especially since all data about him was hidden.

  "We ready to do this?" I asked.

  Izzy worked her jaw and answered by strolling into the water.

  "Okay, then."

  I pressed into the surf behind her, gripping the dragonspear in hand.

  The water was milky where our boots stirred it up. The salt content in the stagnant pool created putrid fumes that stung my eyes. It was a hell of an effect for a digital reality. I wondered if Kablammy had gone so far as to simulate a model for bacteria. On second thought, I doubted even that could live here.

  Halfway to the small island, Vagram and the crusader sank to their waists. The sea bed was sloping downward.

  "I don't think we'll be able to make it." Once again I looked past the breakwater to the greater ocean and noted the nearby brig. It made me think of Errol the pirate and how much we could've used his expertise on this open water. But better not to have backstabbing allies around.

  "The cleric knows what he's doing," said Izzy. "Somehow I figure he knows the way better than we do."

  "What else is new?" I quipped.

  We still didn't see any activity within the Salt Sea, but the island was coming into better focus, and my eyes adjusted to the pungent stink and stopped watering so much. A good-sized cave entrance descended into the rock.

  "You think he's really—" I started before being rudely interrupted.

  A mass of water thirty feet out from the crusaders shifted. Something very large began to surface.

  "Kraken!" yelled the crusader as the water buffeted his armor and whipped his black tunic in the wind.

  A length of flesh snaked over the surface. That was no kraken tentacle. Foamy waves crashed as Lucifer's black dragon reared from the Salt Sea. It erupted with a menacing roar.

  0830 Dragon's Lair

  The dragon's teeth snapped menacingly as it advanced. Its serpentine body slithered in the water, two giant wings of leather flapping the air for balance.

  [Nightwing - Black Dragon]

  2000 Health

  "Pull back to the shallows!" ordered Vagram.

  The two crusaders attempted to retreat, but the dragon was fast. Skimming along the water, Nightwing bore down on the crusader swords without fear. The cleric muttered a quick prayer.

  Aura of Protection!

  You have 50% resistance to magic for the next 30 seconds.

  The black dragon's tail whipped around and slammed into the knight's breastplate, sending him flying through the air. He landed with a splash as rows of razor teeth spread wide. Vagram crossed bronze swords as acid breath poured from the great beast's mouth, black and oily. The cleric winked out and appeared beside me and Izzy in a flash. The water at his old location roiled and hissed as scalding steam bubbled to the sky.

  A fleet of sharpened icicles rocketed toward the dragon as it turned to us. It blinked calmly as every single projectile shattered before striking him.

  "We're not the only ones running magic resistance," noted Izzy.

  It stomped our way. Suddenly, the crusader emerged from the water, longsword pointed at the beast's belly. Strict training brought the blade straight and true. The weapon rang loudly against the scaled body.

  [Crusader] dealt 7 damage to [Nightwing]

  The dragon twisted its neck around and chomped down on the soldier, lifting him in the air, teeth grinding against metal. The armored knight flopped around in Nightwing's mouth like a chew toy. Still, the man held onto his sword and scored another hit.

  [Crusader] dealt 14 damage to [Nightwing]

  Vagram and I charged forward to assist the helpless man, but the water slowed us down. The beast burped up a stew of black acid. Finally the crusader's armor buckled and strong jaws crunched together. The dying man's screams were haunting.

  "Your spear," cried the cleric. "It's why you're here."

  "Already ahead of you."

  I activated vault and leapt clear of the water while I brought the dragonspear level. I dashed forward, skiing on the water surface. But before I could complete the combo, Nightwing spat his meal at m
e. My charge took me straight into the armored obstacle. I collided and tumbled into the sea.

  Harsh water filled my lungs. I shot to my feet and scrambled sideways, but Nightwing was already on me. Pointed claws flashed so fast I couldn't charge up my crossblock in time. The dragonspear jarred loose from my hand as the claws raked my side.

  Disarm!

  47 damage

  I splashed down again. I would've been a dead man if it wasn't for Vagram. He chopped both swords forward into the water, creating a visible sonic boom that sailed through the salt and hit the dragon head on.

  [Vagram] dealt 52 damage to [Nightwing]

  The beast roared and hopped away, but the damage was a drop in the bucket compared to the rest of his health. Still, the pain was real. Nightwing instinctively sprayed a wall of acid between us.

  I dove backwards into the water as the oil slick rushed overhead. Somehow I avoided the damage, but the others weren't as lucky. I couldn't see or hear, but I caught the notification window.

  [Nightwing] dealt 38 damage to [Izzy]

  Stun!

  [Nightwing] dealt 77 damage to [Vagram]

  Damn. The black dragon was ripping us apart. I could only hope the magic resistance was doing its part, but at this rate, it just meant a slower death.

  My eyes strained to stay open under the thick water. I had to find the dragonspear. It was our only hope. After a frantic moment, I had no choice but to surface for air.

  Nightwing's head came down hard, ready to scoop up the stunned cleric. A formation of ice rose from the sea and crashed into the beast's maw. He shook his great head, momentarily dizzy. The cleric recovered. Two bronze swords swiped, once at the exposed neck and then at the roaring face.

  [Vagram] dealt 48 damage to [Nightwing]