“No, no, no.” Cara took Gramok’s hand and pushed it forward. “You can’t draw this bow that much. To here, no further.”

Gramok grunted. “Not my fault it’s a kid’s bow.”

“Hey!” She flicked his hand. “I made this bow for me, thank you very much.”

“My point exactly.” And there it was, that stupid grin that was so damned hard to hate.

Cara rolled her eyes and pulled herself up straight. “Behave, young man. Do you have no respect for your elders?”

“Not really. Besides, you’re younger than me in elf years, and you know it.”

“Uh-huh. Stop whining and take the shot.”

The arrow missed the bullseye, hitting the third ring. Gramok growled and kicked the floor.

“At least I can hit the target. Again.”

“That was a hit! We didn’t all grow up with bows in our hands.” He notched another arrow and, without fixing his feet, drew.

“Stop! Your stance—come on, you can do better than this!”

“What?” He looked down and sighed. “Consistent stance, yeah, yeah.” He shuffled into the correct position and drew again. Second ring this time, barely an improvement. “What’s it like, being a ranger?”

Heat rose in her chest. Mind on the job, Cara. “Much better shot, but watch the follow-through.”

“That good, huh? I bet you have some interesting stories to tell.”

Her gaze fell to the floor. No. Maybe she would have if she’d been a real ranger, one that could be trusted not to screw it up. “You’re sure about the route?”

“The maps are good. We’ll be fine.”

He fired again, and followed through properly this time. First ring.

Cara patted him on the back. “Better. Focus right on the bullseye, you got this!”

He nodded and notched another. “Do you miss it, being a ranger?”

She bit her lip. “I miss the Forest. The rustle of the leaves, dirt underfoot, that sense of life all around you.” A dull weight grew in her chest. “The tree-song, too. Do you miss home?”

His shot pulled wide, only just catching the edge of the buttress. “The road is my home!” He thumped his chest and notched another arrow. “I stop by to see my sister when I can.”

“Do you enjoy it? Adventuring?”

He laughed. “Why would I do it if I didn’t? Fresh air, help people, collect cool stories. What’s not to like?”

Wandering the world. Seeing new things. Not being tied down to one place.

What wasn’t there to like about that?

***

“What is the meaning of this?” The grizzled dwarf advanced, slamming his staff into the ground with every step. “When I attend a war council, I do not expect to come back to my soldiers slacking off!”

The other mages backed away, leaving Zelig and Jake in the furious dwarf’s path.

Zelig snapped off a salute. “Of course not, sir. We were obtaining additional spells to aid in our duties, sir!”

“Exchanging spells? With a human?” His eyes bulged, and the knuckles around his staff turned white. “All of you, back to work. Now!”

Mage-Commander Luther, son of Leopald

Level: 19

One of the younger mages stepped forward and stood to attention, her fingers clenched at her side. “The gate, it’s, well, we’re done.” She swallowed. “Sir!”

“Done?” Luther’s eyes narrowed. Time stretched out. His cheek twitched. “That gate better be stronger than the day it was built!”

“Yes, sir,” Zelig said. “The Runesmiths are working on it now, sir. Jake here, he’s a Spellcrafter. Couldn’t have done it without him.”

“A Spellcrafter?” Luther snorted, but some of the stiffness in his posture faded. “What did you promise him, mining rights for a century or two?”

Jake offered up a smile. “Happy to help, Mage-Commander, no payment required.” Learning Telekinesis and gaining an extra level of Spellcrafting certainly didn’t hurt, though. That extra level in Efficiency would really pay off.

A thin smile spread across Luther’s face, only to freeze partway. “How old are you, Jacob?”

“Twenty-one springs. Years, I mean.”

“You’ve been spending too long with the wood elves, son.” Luther’s stare intensified. “21 years old, a level 7 Spellcrafter, and very much alive.” His half-smile stretched into a sneer. “Well, if you are here to help, you’re very much a hero in my book.”

Shit. Was it really that obvious with a few levels of Thorough Identify? Jake’s smile held the line. “Thank you.”

“My office. We’ll talk in private. Everyone else, get to your other duties.”

Jake followed through to a small adjacent room. Bare stone walls, a simple desk, a single chair, and a mountain of paperwork. Someone didn’t spend much time in their office.

The door banged shut. Luther pulled out the chair and gestured to it.

“I’ll stand, thank you.”

“Suit yourself.” Luther sat and stared up. “You remind me of someone.”

Jake’s stomach twisted in on itself. “Oh?”

“Another human who passed through, thirteen years ago.”

Thirteen years. No way that was a coincidence. And if Luther had met him, he’d have Identified him as well. Same surname.

Heat rose in Jake’s chest. He pressed his lips together in silence. What was there to say? Oh, yeah, that brutal dictator? I’m his son.

“No comment?”

“Was that before or after you put up a statue to him?”

“Before, as I suspect you know.” Luther’s voice remained level. Logical. Reasoned. “He would never have healed our men or aided our repairs, not without payment.”

Bare walls. A boring room even by dwarf standards. Maybe it doubled as a torture chamber. “Nothing to do with me.”

“Why do you think the statue is there?”

Jake snorted. “To honor your emperor. Why else?”

“To show we are good, loyal citizens of the great Divine Empire. It’s no secret what happens to those who are not.”

Jake crossed his arms. There wasn’t time for this bullshit. “What’s your point?”

“Our records are meticulous and date back to the Age of Heroes. Tarkath, a great city, destroyed by orcs because they claimed these very mines. And yet that was followed by 10,000 years of peace.”

“Ancient history.”

“And our present,” Luther said. “We struggle to keep order in the barracks some days, and orcs are a hundred times worse. Fortified or not, this town is nothing compared to Tarkath. Why haven’t they destroyed it?”

“That almost sounds like a complaint.”

“We’re vulnerable and they know it. Yet in all that time, they haven’t struck. What’s the difference?”

Jake’s muscles clenched. There it was, back to the point at hand.

“Heroes, Jake. That’s the difference. A pattern of paradoxes played out a thousand times across the archives, all pointing to one thing.”

I never asked to be a damned Hero. “I’m not here to destroy your city.”

“You missed the lesson history is teaching us. It’s a warning, and a promise. Heroes make things happen.”

Jake blinked. That was one way to look at it.

“Was he your father?” Luther asked. “No matter. It’s strange. When he passed through, I did not treat him as an emperor. No one did. The records don’t mention the emperor’s visit, or his coronation. Why? That is a question I have asked myself again and again. A decade of pondering, and the answer is still just out of reach.”

There it was, that leash dragging the poor bastards back. The System? Or something else?

“You wouldn’t understand,” Jake said, “even if I told you.”

Luther nodded. “I have long suspected a power beyond magic holds us in check. Perhaps there is a divine force behind the empire.”

Jake’s jaw clenched. What did any of this have to do with him? “And?”

“And now it comes to you. If we are to cast off the Divine Empire, there must be a catalyst. Something, someone that sets it all in motion.”

No way. Jake growled and looked away. He’d bury himself in the Deep-Forest before doing that. “You mean a Hero.”

“I do.”

Because one world-spanning quest wasn’t enough. “I’m a little busy trying to stop the dungeon spawn. I don’t have time for leading a revolution.”

“No.” Luther shook his head. “Not lead it—spark it. The Empire cannot crush us all at once. Long ago, there was an alliance of races, their cities connected via huge portals.”

“Between cities? Like, armies?” Logistics wins wars. The ability to move entire armies between cities would shift the balance of power away from the Empire. Away from his father. “How?”

“Portal cores powered each one. Retrieve Tarkath’s portal core for us, and I will have our Runesmiths inscribe three items for you and your companions.”

Jake shook his head. Getting home had to be his priority, not fighting their war for them. “Your revolution is your business, not ours, and certainly not mine.”

Luther bowed his head. “Very well.”

Weight tugged at Jake’s chest. They were already going down to the ruins. Plus, a magic bow would make Cara happy. “If it’s on the way, I’ll see what I can do.”

Quest received: Retrieve the Tarkath Portal Stone

Quest giver: Mage-Commander Luther, son of Leopald

Quest description: The Tarkath portal stone was lost during the city’s fall. Retrieve it and return it safely to Mage-Commander Luther.

Quest reward (completion): 5,000 XP, three items inscribed with Runes by Tonvalbortdelan Runesmiths.

Jake sighed. “You know, we might have to fight our way to it. Runed gear would help with that.”

Luther stared back. “The main gate takes priority. However, you are right to be concerned about the ruins. Have you fought spirits before?”

A chill ran down Jake’s spine. “No.”

“They can and will reach into your mind. Fear, hatred, rage, sorrow—these are its weapons.”

Well, shit. Jake’s insides curled up into a ball. Good thing he wasn’t a flaming emotional wreck already skimming the edge of totally losing it.

“You are dangerous, Jake Williams. All casters are, especially without the shackles of self-preservation.”

Was that a compliment? Whatever. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere near them.” I’ve had quite enough of people messing with my brain as it is.

“If you can,” Luther said, “do. I have spent a decade studying how to detect influence on my mind. I never found whatever power the Divine Empire holds over us. However, I learned to detect other intrusions into my mind. I believe you have the Intelligence, Willpower, and mental discipline required to learn it.”

Finally. Something useful. “Teach me.”

***

Thirteen years since his father came through here. What did he find? What had let him become Divine Emperor? Some kind of terminal access, maybe?

If his father had been anything other than useless as a father, it was brilliant with computers. Was that part of why he’d been kidnapped?

So many damned questions. Maybe there’d be ruins down there, below.

A fork in the road. Which way had the tavern keeper said? Left, maybe. Gramok shooting Cara’s tiny old bow. That’d be a sight.

If he was the bloody Divine Emperor, why the hell did he need saving, anyway? It didn’t add up. Insufficient information.

There had to be an explanation.

What was it that Death couldn’t see? What had his father found?

Jake’s gut twisted. Only one way to find out. Bonus: that way led through spirits with a love of possession. How do you fight something like that?

Mental Tripwires: Increases the chance of detecting mental intrusions. Increases Mental Resistance to magical effects.

The word “chance” wasn’t encouraging, but it was better than nothing. What about offense? Some runes allowed weapons to hit them, but they didn’t have any. Most magic wouldn’t affect them. Telepathy would. Maybe Calm Creature would work on them?

Maybe. More damned uncertainty. Cracking the secret of using Effects with different magic types than normal was more important than ever.

This was it. A large building with a bow and arrow engraved on the door. Subtle. Jake walked in, and there they were. Would that ever look any less ridiculous?

Jake clapped Gramok on the shoulder and forced out a smile. “That bow’s exactly the right size for you, big guy.”

“You’re just jealous I don’t need a custom bow on account of how weak I am.”

“Totally.” Jake paused and bit his lip. “About earlier… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things. It’s my shit to deal with, not yours. You guys ready to go?”

Cara shook her head. “Your shit is our shit now, Jake.” Her cheeks reddened, and she turned away. “That came out wrong, but… you’re not alone.”

For how long? “Thanks. You got the maps?”

Gramok nodded. “Yeah, I knew Ardic would come through. Sorry, Lord Tonvalbortdelan.” He shook his head and slung his pack onto his back. “Hope this place is still here when we come back.”

***

Two hours of stop-start hiking, and not even so much as a broken wall. Darker rock, bigger caves, higher temperatures, but no ruins. Every cavern looked alike down here—how the hell did Gramok tell them apart?

Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe that was the problem.

Jake peered over at the map. “You’re sure you’re reading that, right?”

Gramok glared back. “It’s a copy of a highly detailed, ten-thousand-year-old, three-dimensional diagram of the most complex caves in the world.”

Unbelievable. Jake threw up his hands. “That’s just a long-winded way of saying no.”

“Not what I said.” Gramok glanced at the map and pointed ahead at a caved-in tunnel. “That’s the way I’d planned to go. It’d lead straight into Tarkath.”

“Why didn’t you say? It doesn’t look too bad.”

“It’d take us hours, if not days, to clear that rubble.”

“Maybe it would take you that long, sure.” Jake stretched out and flashed Gramok a grin. “Me? Twenty minutes, tops.”

Cara turned, her arms in an X across her chest, and motioned with her eyes. Something was out there.

Jake nodded, took cover, and activated Stealth. Gramok hooded his lantern and did the same. Maybe this time they’d get to do the ambushing.

Distant clanking. An irregular drum beat. No, not a drum, footsteps. Heavy footsteps. The earth rumbled heavier with every step. Whatever it was, it was big.

Red light flickered up one of the tunnels. More goblins? No, these were as tall as men, though still armored in scraps. Only four of them, and not nearly big enough to cause the ground to shake.

There, behind them! Jake’s heart skipped a beat. Twenty feet tall and almost as wide, with bulging muscles and a giant club—heading straight for them.