Rune Seeker

Chapter 18: A Desperate Rescue

Hiral’s brain stalled out for a second as he looked at the group of Shapers talking on one end of the clearing, but he held a hand out to the five Grower heads that quickly turned accusing looks in his direction.

“Wait,” he mouthed to them while he patted the air. “Just wait. Please.”

What are Shapers doing down here? And why do they have Seeyela and her party? Did they rescue them from the Duggers? No… who am I kidding? They obviously captured the Growers all on their own. But, why?

Nivian, Vix, Yanily, and Wule all turned their attention to Seena, but she stared hard at Hiral, weighing him and his possible involvement.

“I have no idea,” he mouthed while pointing at the chatting Shapers, whose words carried clearly as if they didn’t care whether the captured Growers heard them or not. Worse still, they were all Shapers Hiral recognized—a group of popular C-Rank fighters from the Amphitheatre of the Sun.

This wasn’t a group Seena’s party had any chance against in a fight. Hiral held his hand up to form a “C,” then pointed at the Shapers. “C-Rank,” he mouthed, and made the same shape with his hand again.

Seena’s eyes widened a little as she understood, and she glanced back to her sister’s captured party.

Please don’t do anything stupid.

Seena turned back to Hiral and mouthed, “Make this right.”

Hiral nodded—make this right? How in the Fallen’s ratty socks was he supposed to do that?—and focused on what the Shapers were talking about.

“Just leave them tied up,” Shaper Hizix said. “The rains will take care of them for us.”

“Stop wussing out,” another Shaper, Gunimat, said. “If we want to be sure, we should kill them now, ourselves.”

“Guni is right,” Shaper Hadeval added. “It’s the only way to be sure.”

“But they’re people,” Hizix countered.

“People with bad luck,” Hadeval said. “They saw us. We can’t let that get back up to the islands.”

“And besides, they aren’t really people. They’re just Buggers,” Shaper Madizon said with a shrug of her wide, tattooed shoulders. “It’s almost like a mercy.”

“A mer… mercy?” Hizix asked. “How can you even say that? Maybe… maybe they can tell us how to harvest the quills properly? We can ask them… again.”

Hadeval pointed at the Grower with the broken arm. “If they didn’t talk after that…”

“We’ll figure out how to harvest the quills on our own with a bit more practice,” a new voice said, and a much smaller man stepped out of the trees near the Shapers, two more tattooed women beside him. “Just kill them and get it over with. We need to get back up to the city before anybody catches on these Buggers are missing and decides to send somebody down looking.”

Unlike the Shapers, the new man wore a long robe that completely covered everything from his neck down, leaving only his head and hands bare. The Meridian Lines peeking beyond his cuffs and on his face glowed faintly, signaling long years of their use, but he wouldn’t have any tattoos hidden beneath the fabric.

An Artist, like Hiral’s father.

They’d come down looking to harvest quills on their own, to cut the Nomads out of the trade cycle, which meant they were the ones who’d killed the Quillbacks in the dungeon.

Do they know about the dungeons, then? The interface? Or did they just think it was some kind of cave?

“Sir,” Hizix said, stepping toward the Artist, “this isn’t what we came down here for. To kill Nomads, I mean. It’s not what we signed up for.”

“Just shut up, Hizix, okay?” Gunimat said. “When did you get all soft on Buggers? It doesn’t matter what we signed up for. Our employer is asking us to do something, and paying well for it. So, we do it.”

Hizix opened his mouth as if to say something else, but the other Shapers just looked at him, and his shoulders shrank as if he’d given up. “Fine. Whatever. Let’s just get back up to the city before the rains get here.”

“About time,” the Artist said before looking at one of the two women beside him. “Get our transport ready.”

“Yessir,” she said, putting her hand up to her shoulder and the Disc of Passage tattoo there.

Fallen’s balls, that’s Shaper Velina. She’s B-Rank! This is way, way, way out of our league. But, if we don’t do anything… if I don’t do something… they’re going to kill Seeyela and her party. What can I do to stop them, though…?

Hiral tore his eyes away from Shaper Velina as she began the process of shaping the Disc of Passage—it would take at least several seconds—and focused on the other Shapers and the surrounding trees. There had to be something he could do.

There was no way he could fight them, but maybe, like the original plan, some kind of distraction?

A branch cracked somewhere off in the woods, and Hiral caught the flash of reflected light between the trees to his right.

Oh, this probably isn’t the best idea.

Then he was up and running toward the Shapers, only sparing the briefest second to gesture to the Growers to stay down. Hopefully, they would trust him long enough for this to work.

“Thank the Fallen you’re here,” Hiral shouted as he burst into the small clearing, his high Dex making it so he passed through the underbrush with barely a whisper. “I thought I was going to be trapped down here with the rains coming.”

Seven Shapers and the Artist snapped their attention in his direction, tattoos shaping into weapons and Meridian Lines flaring with power at his surprise appearance.

“What in the…?” Shaper Gunimat said.

“Is that… Everfail?” another voice whispered, but it carried clearly enough for the question to reach Hiral’s ears.

Despite the words, he forced himself to pretend he didn’t hear it, and he walked past the group of Grower prisoners without even looking at them.

“You have to take me back up to Fallen Reach with you,” Hiral said, continuing on toward the left side of the clearing, putting himself on one side of the Shaper group. He gestured with his hands as he talked to keep their attention on him. “Man, I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

“What… what are you doing here?” Shaper Hadeval asked. “How are you here?”

“I’ll explain on the way back up,” Hiral said, but Shaper Velina had faltered in her shaping of the Disc of Passage at his surprise entrance. “I really, really thought I was going to be stuck down here.”

“No, I think it’s best you explain now,” the Artist said. “You’re obviously from Fallen Reach with those Meridian Lines, but who…?” His eyes narrowed. “You’re the Dorin kid. The useless one.”

Hiral couldn’t stop himself from wincing at the comment, but the Artist continued as if he didn’t even notice.

“Just kill him too. As much as I hate to do Dorin any favors…” the Artist said, like he had a bad taste in his mouth, before turning back to Shaper Velina. “Well, where’s our transport?”

“K-kill…?” Hiral asked, and he didn’t have to fake the surprise in his voice at how casually the Artist had just ordered that. From the looks on the Shapers’ faces, they were just as shocked… except they all hardened very quickly, other than Hizix. “Woah, woah, woah,” Hiral said, holding up his hands and stepping back.

“Sorry, Everfail—not your lucky day either, it seems,” Shaper Hadeval said as he took a step in Hiral’s direction.

“Pretty sure this is a mercy too,” Shaper Madizon said, also stepping forward.

Hiral’s eyes went from Shaper to Shaper, four of the towering men and women stalking in his direction while he scrambled backwards. “Hey, what is this? I’m one of you!”

“Nah, you’ve never been one of us, Everfail,” Madizon said.

“Too bad it wasn’t someone who could put up a bit more of a fight,” Gunimat said. “Would’ve been kind of fun to let loose down here where there aren’t any rules.”

“Let loose all you want on this one,” Madizon said, continuing to advance on Hiral. “Just don’t expect anything back. Though, I hear he is kind of good at running away.”

“What do you say, Everfail?” Shaper Gunimat asked, his hand shaping a simple sword from the tattoo on his opposite arm. “You going to make this fun for us? Put up a fight? Try to run away?”

Hiral backed up another step, the edge of the clearing right at his heels, and seriously considered just running away. With his Dex, he could probably do it. That had been the original plan anyway. But as flames danced on Shaper Hadeval’s palms from the Way of Fire tattoo, and as Madizon shaped a large bow, he realized they’d just cut him down as soon as he turned his back.

Instead of dashing into the trees and hoping they missed their opening salvo, he reached up over his shoulders and drew his two swords. “We don’t have to do this,” he said slowly. “I’m sure you’re just joking. Right? A big joke we can all laugh about on the way back to Fallen Reach. One you can tell all your friends when we get there…”

“Oh, don’t worry—we’ll laugh about this, alright,” Hadeval said, the flames roiling in his hands.

Even though the Way of Fire was a B-Rank tattoo, with Hadeval only being C-Rank, he wouldn’t be able to use its full potential. Still, considering Hiral was basically no-Rank with no class, it’d probably still turn his bones to ash if it hit him. That wasn’t even considering the C-Rank weapons the others had shaped.

This… yup… Definitely a bad idea.

“Fine, how do you want to do this, then?” Hiral asked, dropping into a fighting stance with one blade pointed at the Shapers and the other held defensively. “One at a time, or do you all need to come at me at once?”

“All at…? Is he kidding right now?” Hadeval asked.

“It’s a good question. I mean, who gets to enjoy this? Should we draw lots or something?” Gunimat asked.

Hiral spared a glance behind the group of Shapers, another flash of reflected light catching his attention, but also made sure not to look at the captured Growers at all. That’s it. Keep talking.

“Stop talking,” the Artist said, frustration clear in his voice. “No drawing lots. Hadeval, burn him. Burn him so badly nobody will ever recognize who he was, even if they find the body.”

Hadeval’s mouth split in a wide grin. “You got it, boss.”

Oh, Fallen’s…

The bushes behind the Shapers parted as the three-armed crystal monster stepped into the clearing, its gaze firmly on Hiral. It began stalking toward him at the same time Shaper Velina’s Disc of Passage manifested directly in front of it. Velina was the first to notice it, and she opened her mouth to say something, but the monster reached out with one of its hands, palm glowing, and grabbed the edge of the floating, thirty-foot-diameter disc.

Like it had been carved into thousands of small, perfectly equal cubes, the disc exploded apart with a sound like tearing paper, and enough force to shoot Velina into the underbrush like an arrow.

Everybody jumped at the sudden sound, the Shapers spinning around to find the crystal monster stepping through the haze of solar energy left by the thousands of cubes dissipating.

“What is that?” Madizon asked.

“Who cares?” the Artist shouted back. “Kill it!”

Hiral momentarily forgotten, Hadeval hurled a head-sized ball of flame at the approaching monster. Another of the creature’s hands came up, palm glowing again, and suddenly, the fire rebounded like it’d hit something. Right back into Hadeval’s chest.

The seven-foot Shaper cursed and fell back, the flames in his hands winking out as he lost control of the magic due to the pain. Even before he hit the ground, Madizon was moving toward the monster, but not of her own volition. No, she flew through the air like she’d been yanked, only to collide with a crystal haymaker punch.

Folding over the fist at the impact, the Shaper let out a pained grunt, blood erupting from her mouth. The monster’s follow-through hurled her into the trees. Sounds of breaking wood and branches spelled out her path, until a very solid thump signaled the end of her flight.

“What are you doing?” the Artist shouted from far too close to the monster, though it seemed to be ignoring him.

Why?

No time to really get answers to his questions, Hiral bolted toward the captured Growers while the rest of the Shapers charged at the crystal monster. Seena and the others were already to the group by the time he arrived, helping them to their feet and leading them into the woods.

Good. They have it taken care of.

With that part of it done, all that was left was to escape… and hope the Shapers didn’t follow them.

Hiral glanced back toward the melee—another of the Shapers was on the ground, Gunimat this time, while Hadeval was back up. It was Hizix, though, that caught Hiral’s attention. The man was looking right at him. Their eyes met. Hizix held his two-handed sword in a white-knuckled grip, but he made a small, sharp shake of his head—just one, to the side—and then turned and charged at the crystal monster.

He’s letting us go.

Not wanting to waste the generosity—or the opportunity—Hiral took one last look at the strange crystal monster taking apart the group of C- and B-Rank Shapers, then charged into the forest after the Growers.

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