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Chapter 8

  As the moon shines down above the region of Stockhagen, watching, waiting, a plan is concocted inside the tavern. The party gathers the remaining items they wish to take with them and does one-last check for any exposed skin on their bodies. Finally, they turn back to the gnome sitting on the bar, body of the oversized wolf still slumped over nearby. Alvyn is pouring three glasses of whisky, filled about an inch deep, one for each of them. For himself he fills a full glass almost to the brim. Gotavv’s crossbow is sitting on the tabletop beside him. No one has touched the Edvard’s large tubular weapon that is now lying on the ground, its exact nature unknown.

  “You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Emmitt gestures towards the gnome at the back of the bar.

  Alvyn shakes his head. “”

  “Can’t really blame you, I suppose.”

  Leylin steps forward, holding the fireworks in both hands. She places them down on the table next to the crossbow and turns to Alvyn. “If I ever make the signal, you set off the fireworks from here. Hopefully it’ll draw Skarann’s attention away from us. It’s a whistle, I’ll do it now.”

  She does a simple, three-note whistle a few times in a row. Alvyn gives her a blank look. Naturally, he has no idea what she just said. Acknowledging her mistake, Leylin does the whistle again, points to the fireworks, makes an explosion motion with her hands, and then points to Alvyn. After glancing between the fireworks and Leylin for a moment, he finally nods in understanding. “”

  Leaving him with the fireworks, the three of them take their glasses of whiskey and walks back towards the table. They pull back their masks to expose their mouths and raise their glasses together. Emmitt begins the toast.

  “Spirit’s reprieval…”

  “Fear no evil,” Marco and Leylin speak in unison.

  They down their glasses and put them down on the table. Leylin grabs a piece of rope off the table, handing an end to Emmitt. Marco takes out a smoke bomb and walks over to the front door. There are two roads, one leading into the forest, and another along the coast. He turns towards the coast, now partially exposed to the moonlight. No transformation occurs. Skarann is currently not visible from this side of the building.

  Emmitt and Leylin watch from the door as Marco winds up his first shot and sends the smoke bomb soaring through the air. It lands in front of the shape of the temple just visible in the distance. He throws three more bombs without pause, each at a different interval along the road. Finally he throws the final bomb just a few feet from himself.

  “SMOKE BOMBS? YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING TO GET ME WITH SMOKEBOMBS?” From above, Skarann’s eyes scan the area as the coast is engulfed in bright white smoke. As the tavern fades into the hazy terrain, he glares with renewed frustration. “YOU KNOW ITS JUST GOING TO BLOW AWAY, RIGHT? TELL ME YOU’RE NOT THAT STUPID?”

  But it appears he has spoken too soon, as the clouds of smoke run up into some kind of invisible barrier, keeping them constrained along the path. Though not a perfect container, it does seem that their cover will hold for a few minutes at the least.

  “ALRIGHT, WELL, MAYBE NOT THEN, BUT YOU’RE STILL GOING TO DIE. I’M STILL GOING TO BLAST YOU TO PIECES, SO IT DOESN’T EVEN REALLY MATTER THEN. IT DOESN’T MATTER.”

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  Down on the ground, the party makes a careful advance. Leylin is at the front, holding the end of the rope behind her. Every few seconds she emits a brief, low-volume whistle, which she uses to orient herself within the storm of white. Marco and Emmitt are holding onto the rope behind her, only capable of following after. They proceed along at a steady pace, roughly equivalent to a fast walk. So far, the smoke is holding in place. But already it is not as thick as it was before.

  Leylin stumbles to a halt as a laser from above cuts through the smoke and past the path ahead of them. The rocky surface along the road is not broken or reshaped in any way, but it leaves a thick line of ash.

  “HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT? NOT VERY MUCH, PROBABLY. HERE COMES ANOTHER ONE. AND ANOTHER ONE.”

  The party breaks into a run as the lasers swipe around them haphazardly. At the end of the line, Marco struggles to hold onto the rope as they all bolt forward. He pulls ahead for a moment and has to force himself to slow down, now running alongside Emmitt. “Can your barriers block his lasers?”

  “I really don’t know.”

  “Lovely.”

  Some kind of shape is visible in the smoke, a shadow cutting through the chalky texture. It is unclear what exactly Marco is looking at, whether it’s on four legs, its exact size, or whether it exists at all. But still, Marco can’t keep his eyes off of it, even in the chaos with the lasers around them. It seems to be following along.

  “What is that?” Marco asks.

  “What?” Emmitt shouts at him as they continue to run forward, completely lost. It is difficult to hear each other over the sound of the laser beams hitting the ground.

     “

  Emmitt looks around, only the painted eye on his mask discernable within Marco’s vision. Eventually he gives up and turns back to Marco. “Here.”

  Emmitt reaches back with his free hand, nothing in his fingers. Marco takes the invisible knife from him and flings it in the direction of the shadow. The knife, already impossible to see, does not make any noise as it passes into the smoke.

  “Did you get it?” Emmitt call back.

  “What?”

  “Did you get it?”

  Marco tries to peer into the smoke, but whatever was there, he can’t see anymore. There is only forest visible on the other side. He turns back to Emmitt. “I don’t know.”

  “Let’s keep running then.”

  The lasers have stopped for some time, but that is no source of solace. With the smoke increasingly thinning out, they can see the shape of the temple now. Sitting on the edge of the cliff is a large gazebo structure, at least fifty yards across on all sides. The actual temple seems to be underneath this shelter. But the last leg of this race is going to be a close one. To their left, a massive wave is rising over the edge of the rocks, rolling towards them.

  “Leylin! Leylin!” Emmitt shouts ahead.

  “I know, I know.” Leylin drops the rope and the others follow suit, breaking into a full-blown sprint. They can see the shadow of the wave looming above them as the charge at maximum speed towards the temple. Marco is the first to arrive, assisted by the power of his boots. For Leylin and Emmitt it is a closer call. Emmitt holds up his hand to create an invisible barrier to hold off the water. The weight of the wave blasts over them, barely held back. The barrier fails just in time for the two of them to clammer under the gazebo-like structure.

  The three of them are sitting on the dirt under the gazebo, regaining their bearings and catching their breath. Leylin and Emmitt are now soaked through on one side of their bodies. Emmitt adjusts his mask to make sure he is still completely covered.

  “CONGRATULATIONS, YOU KNOW HOW TO RUN AWAY. HUZZAH, GOOD JOB. YOU KNOW I WASN’T EVEN TRYING, RIGHT? THIS IS NOTHING FOR ME. I’M JUST TOYING WITH YOU. OBVIOUSLY.”

  “I am never going to get that voice out of my head,” Emmitt says, rubbing his temples.

  Slowly, the three of them pull themselves to their feet. The wave has fully subsided now, leaving only a network of large puddles along the rocky cliffs. As soon as they’ve taken a moment to recover, they start towards the front of the temple.

  “Stop right there or we shoot!”

  The party stops. The voice is coming from the front of the temple, but they are unable to see who it is.

  “Good. Now lower your weapons, slowly.”

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