Bick ran like she had never ran before, not far behind her, so did Mr. James and Wrinkle. The merchant ran far faster than he had before now, though with the large group of armed assailants behind him she wasn’t surprised.

  ‘Mr. James! You’re running so fast, I thought you wanted to die?’ Wrinkle asked. Bick wasn’t sure if he was implying something.

  He huffed and puffed, but had just enough in him to belt out a reply. ‘It ain’t just me they’d be killin’. I ain’t sacrificing myself when they’re fixin’ to kill us all!’

  A few crossbow bolts flew past the group, pinning in the dirt. Bick turned her attention back to the barren land in front of them, scanning for something in particular. Tech Hunters, they patrolled these lands looking for untapped ruins which Shun was known for. They also would occasionally help travelers in need. With Hannen busy fighting, this was their best chance outside of more spiders or something.

  As the group ran for dear life, Hannen had his own problems. A large Nodachi swung from up high sliced into a solid rock by him, he dodged to the right as another sword cut through the air he had just stood in. These fake Tech Hunters had strength, maybe even skill, it wasn’t going to be as easy as he had hoped.

  ‘Come on brother! Where's the bark? Where’s the bite?!’

  He ignored his sister's jeering, aiming a kick at the Nodachi wielder's chest. The large man stumbled back as his partner carried on his barrage of swings. They clashed blades a few times with sparks flying until the poet saw an opening, letting his katana blade glide effortlessly along his opponents until it reached the shaft.

  The opponent moved on trained instinct, pulling the sword arm away, which Hannen used as an opportunity, greeting the warrior's ribs with an elbow. The swordsman stumbled back with a cough, his friend now recovering Hannen moved to take one of the two warriors out of the fight, spinning his body around the reeling foe to dodge the larger ones broad swing, then plunging his blade through softer opponents back, who let out nary a scream as he collapsed in a small pile of blood.

  Each swordsman fell back from the other, one to catch his breath, the other to evaluate the corpse of his colleague. The large swordsman looked over to Thorn who stood by, using her blade as a rest, planted in the soft dirt.

  Hannen looked at her, then at the swordsman in front of her, he breathed out slowly and let his heart catch up to him. She grunted in annoyance watching them.

  ‘Come on then. You lot were hired for your skill, you just gonna sit there dumbfounded cus he kill one of ya?’

  The large man looked between them and narrowed his eyes. ‘He took the life of my right hand, Karzi, not some green nobody. This is not a fight I can approach casually.’

  The poet smiled. ‘So you do talk. That mean you think too?’

  Thorn rolled her eyes. ‘Uh uh. You ain’t doing this Hannen. Always the best at talking.’ She growled her last words as she lunged for Hannen who deftly blocked her attack.

  They fought back and forth in equal measure whilst the hired warrior tried to find a gap to interfere. Hannen smirked. ‘Thought.’ Another swing and swift block. ‘You were just,’ he grunted as he pushed her back. ‘Gonna watch?’ The man finished with a taunt.

  She rushed forward, feinting a swing and cutting the Shek's cheek, through a jab instead, struggling to cut through his naturally tough hide. He pushed her blade away and thrust his own blade with more strength, she manoeuvred her body just enough to prevent it breaching the top few layers of skin on her waist.

  Thorn winced, still grinning. ‘Wanted to test Captain Jun. My employers hired these fools too. Thought I wouldn’t be enough to take out that bitch back there,’ she laughed derisively. ‘All these idiots did was give me the room to get you out of that damn city too.’

  ‘That who ya wanna work with?’ Hannen asked the Captain standing nearby.

  Jun didn’t need much convincing, he walked away and sat against a nearby tree, breathing in the air around him. Thorn paused, disbelief plastered on her face.

  ‘That’s it? You’re going to just listen to him? He didn’t even bark!’

  The tall mercenary shrugged. ‘Professionals should have standards. You have none. ‘Sides, ain’t being paid to kill this guy.’

  It was solid logic that even Thorn couldn’t refute. Though it was clear that didn’t make her any less angry. She scoffed. ‘That just means it’s me and you Hannen. He wouldn’t have been much help anyway.’

  Hannen squeezed the grip of his blade and breathed out slowly, he didn’t respond, merely prepared, watching his opponent. Thorn wasn’t a disciplined warrior, even with their fathers teaching she was erratic, unpredictable. Luckily for Hannen, he had spent a lot of time as a hired sword, fighting the unpredictable.

  Thorn launched her next attack, thrusting her sharpened blade at him. Instead of blocking like she expected, Hannen dropped to one knee and used his off hand to launch a scoopful of dirt into Thorns eye.

  ‘Argh!?’ She exclaimed, covering her eyes. The poet used the chance and her momentum to push his sword deep into her chest, but instead of a scream, he heard giggles and a wince of pain. Hannen sensed danger and dodged backwards as his sister's blade nicked his chest. He grasped the shallow wound then looked at his opponents.

  Blood indeed dripped from her own wound, though not as much as there should have been. She looked down at it and then at Hannen with a deranged grin on her face. ‘Oooh I’m going to enjoy killing you brother. The others didn’t cut me once.’

  ‘You should be dead.’

  She chuckled. ‘Look at your sword.’

  Though hesitant to look away from her for a moment, Hannen lifted his blade to his vision, shocked to see the result. The tip had snapped off, and the remaining tip was warped. It was as short as a Wakizashi now.

  Thorn pulled her chest armour away, to reveal the metallic ribs of a Skeleton underneath and the point of Hannen's blade caught between two of them. ‘Who knew using parts of a Skeleton as armour would work so well.

  ‘Damn that’s twisted.’ Jun commented, reeling back a little.

  With a glance of disdain, the Scorchlander put her armour back in place, sending blood scattering. She staggered a little.

  ‘Even then. Was a good poke brother, you’ve become crafty since I saw you last.’ She backed away, keeping her blade trained on her brother. ‘Can’t keep this up right now and I think you have more important problems, don’t you?’

  A slight twitch of his eye told Thorn exactly what she wanted to know, she smiled. ‘I’ll see you around, brother.’ With that, the woman fled, at almost unnatural speed. Even with blood dribbling behind her. Hannen kept his katana out and looked to the mercenary.

  He raised his hands. ‘I know when I’m outclassed. This job ain’t worth risking my life for.’

  Hannen nodded and sheathed his katana, he gave the mercenary one last look.

  ‘Behind the iron,

  Above the thunder and fists,

  The shadows watch us.’

  ‘You should think about finding new employers, Captain Jun.’

  The mercenary saluted Hannen as he ran back to his charge. ‘The Shadows watch huh,’ he muttered.

  ***

  Although her legs were close to giving out, Bick continued to run. At this point Wrinkle had gone on ahead, Hivers naturally fast on their feet, or stubs to be more accurate. If she struggled this much, she couldn’t imagine how Mr. James was feeling.

  She could tell that he wasn’t doing well. The merchant's eyes were glazing over, his breaths came over croaky and horse. If there was any consolation it was the fact that their heavily armoured assailants were also struggling. Unable to catch, but not giving up.

  She had to concentrate on the horizon for now, still they had not seen a single other soul. That is, until that moment. Up ahead Wrinkle stood, jumping for joy, waving at them. Behind him were two armed individuals with a certain air about them. They were real actual Tech Hunters. Not fakes, actual Tech Hunters.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  ‘Ju-Just up ahead. Mr. James! Jus-Just a little further.’

  He didn’t respond, or maybe he couldn’t. She heard their pursuers yelling behind her, more crossbows loaded and aimed. Bick grabbed the merchant and moved him to the side to dodge one of the bolts. Just over the next hill, Wrinkle clasped his hands together and the Tech Hunters looked in their direction.

  It was inaudible, but the two Hunters turned to each other. If they said no, even with all the Cats the group could offer, they were dead here no doubt. For a tense second, there was no other reaction, then, one of them nodded and the two darted in their direction.

  Bick felt a burst of energy and a burst of hope. She sped up, dragging Mr. James along with her. At the apex of the sloped hill, they met each other.

  ‘Thank you!’ She managed to get out before collapsing forward.

  The two Tech Hunters said nothing as they clashed with the already tired imposters. Blades and dust flew as the two worked together like a single body. A cut through a torso, a swing across a leg. They battled like they were equal in number.

  They weren’t though and that was clear. Even as they piled on the cuts and kills, there were still a dozen of the foes left. They were starting to get overwhelmed. Some of the fakes tried to fight past, to get to her. They were determined.

  Then, one did. A small nudge sent them away and they used the opportunity. Armed with nothing but a sabre they ran at Bick, who had no combat experience at all. So exhausted that all she could do was shield herself.

  ‘BICK!’ Wrinkle yelled, but it was too late.

  As soon as the man swung, a half broken sword pierced his chest.

  Behind the stuck man, an injured Hannen sighed. ‘How many times I gotta do thi-?’

  Hannen stopped himself, for he realised that now was not the time to joke. He may have taken out the man that attacked Bick, but he had not stopped him. His sword had sliced through her chest, quite deep. Too deep.

  She looked up at him, mouth open and gasping for air, then collapsed, falling into the arms of Mr. James, who caught her, surprising even himself. He then also looked up at Hannen. Then at the imposters behind the man.

  ‘Shit Hannen. We gotta go.’

  That was obvious, but Hannen stood still and just stared at Bick, unblinking, seemingly lost in another plane of existence entirely.

  ‘Oi, Hannen! There’s still two bastards alive and well over here. You still got a job to do!’

  Those words snapped the poet out of his daze. He blinked and looked around. The imposters had now stopped, not due to their stalemate with the Tech Hunters, but for another reason.

  One backed away, lowering her sword. ‘That cut should kill her. That means we did our job, or close enough.’ She waved her hand. ‘We’re outta here boys, unless you guys want to continue?’ She looked at the Tech Hunters, one of which had a limp arm covered in a lot of blood. He spat blood.

  ‘Nah. Get out of here, we didn’t get paid to kill ourselves for nothing.’

  There was a bit of a stand off between the two groups, stares and aggressive stances as the fakes slowly walked away. They could have beaten them, only double their number now, they had the upper hand in skill, but Hannen agreed with the Tech Hunters decision. If he could save Bick, he would, fighting any more would just delay that.

  As soon as the assailants were out of risky range, Hannen turned to the other members of the group, pulling out a set of bandages from his pocket. ‘Quick, we want a chance. we gotta get her somewhere safe,’ he glanced at the Tech Hunters. ‘You two got a camp?’

  They had already begun bandaging the injured man, the healthy one nodded without turning. ‘Aye. It’s not too far. Hidden amongst some rocks.’ he finished wrapping the bandage and lightly slapped his friend's arm who winced. ‘Follow us, and quick.

  Hannen finished wrapping the scientist in his own bandages, though blood already seeped through. He threw the woman over his shoulder and chased after the Tech Hunters, who had already started jogging eastwards.

  As they jogged, the merchant ran up to Hannen's side with considerable effort. ‘What was that?’

  ‘I failed.’

  Mr. James looked away. ‘And?’

  He looked at the Greenlander, confusion on his face.

  ‘Look, you were paid to protect us, but she wasn’t the only one, yeah? I like the girl, but if you just stand there frozen, you’re putting the bug and I in danger too.’

  Hannen knew that, but the merchant didn’t understand what failing meant to him. To his family. Not only was another innocent life on his conscience, but he also had to pay a different price.

  Blood dripped down the Shek's shoulder. He picked up the pace. The two they were following were already slowing down, so they were close. They ran into a collection of rocks and the rest of the party slowly trickled in behind.

  ‘There’s only two beds. Your friend and mine.’ The healthier Tech Hunter said, laying his partner down. Hannen nodded to the Mr. James who helped carry Bick to the other sleeping bag, as gently as they could go.

  Suddenly, she reached out a hand to Hannen, squeezing his shoulder between desperate gasps of air. ‘You were supposed- Supposed to save me.’ She then fell back down.

  Mr. James grabbed her arm right back. ‘Now hold on a second. They were after you. You’re the one that got the rest of us involved! This ain’t Hannens-’

  ‘Mr. James.’

  The merchant was interrupted, he gritted his teeth. ‘What? I’m trying to defend you here.’

  ‘She’s dead.’

  The camp grew tired. Even the two Tech Hunters who had no investment in any of their lives drooped their heads in respect. She wasn’t someone who was particularly close to Hannen, or any of them. In fact the woman was a near stranger, but that didn’t mean it felt good.

  Hannen sighed, closing the girl's eyes. ‘The life of an innocent weighs far more heavily than the half-ten I took today.’

  Wrinkle whimpered behind the other two as Mr. James fell back. ‘You’re kidding me. You can die just like that.’ He turned to the poet dumbfounded. ‘I was supposed to be the one that dies.’

  There was no reply. No one is supposed to die, the world just cruelly stands by as they do. Even worse was the multiple implications that her death brought. The price he would have to pay, which he would pay willingly, but, more important was the other implication. The implication of who Thorn was currently working for.

  The Shek lit his pipe, taking in a long drag to de-stress. He glanced in the Tech Hunters direction, the injured now resting with her eyes closed, his partner eyed the rest of them with curiosity.

  ‘Speak,’ Hannen muttered.

  ‘Why was an armed group like that after a girl like her,’ the hunter lent forward, whispering just low enough as to not wake his friend.

  ‘She’s not even cold yet,’ Wrinkle sobbed behind them, unable to look at the corpse. Hannen still wasn’t entirely sure how the Bugman featured into Bick's plans, but given by his grieving, they were decently close.

  He let another tower of smoke join with the camp's fire. ‘Wrinkle. Did Bick ever mention a syndicate or something along those lines?’

  The Tech Hunter perked up and Wrinkle temporarily stopped his tears. ‘Syndicate?’ The bugman thought. ‘She might have muttered something about it once or twice now I think about it. Came back to town after a few years away.’

  A single exchanged glance with the still awake Tech Hunter told him all he needed to know.

  ‘Shit.’ The hunter commented.

  ‘Shit indeed,’ Hannen replied.

  Even a fool could see something was going on, and whilst Mr. James was many things, a fool wasn’t one of them. Something that both the Tech Hunters and Hannen were worried about.

  ‘Spill it yah crafty Shek.’

  Hannen leant in, lighting his trusty pipe once again. ‘It may not be obvious to everyone, but this world we live in strikes a delicate and chaotic balance. The Holy Nation is constantly at war with the United Cities and the Shek kingdom, but there has been barely any progress on either front for years.’

  Mr. James laughed. ‘You’re not about to tell me that’s by design right? Some great power in the background.’

  Both of the men in the know held dour expressions. ‘The opposite actually. A recent group, in the grand scheme of things. And they want to destroy what little stability we have left.’

  Wrinkle grew interested now. ‘The Syndicate?’

  Hannen nodded. ‘Close. They call themselves the Iron Syndicate.’

  Behind, next to his injured friend, the Tech Hunter flinched. ‘Surprised a random drifter knows about them. They hide themselves well. Took years of recon for us to figure out a damn thing. They seem to be against our collection and preservation of tech too.’

  An aggravated sigh burst forth from the merchant. ‘So? What exactly do they want? What’s it got to do with Bick? Why’d they kill her?’

  In the dark of the growing night, the stars lit up the Shek's face just enough to hide his eyes. The flickering flames of the camp fire revealed them occasionally, piercing and fierce. Staring at the woman on the ground. He cleared his throat and stood to his feet.

  ‘I don’t know, but I intend to find out.’

  ‘Wh-where are you going?’ Wrinkle ran over, nervously fiddling with his hands.

  Hannen smiled at the bugman. ‘I’m going to go see my father. I failed at my task so punishment is due. What’s more he has a remarkable network, he may be able to help.’ The Shek turned to the Tech Hunter. ‘I understand that you are injured, but if you can get them to Flats Lagoon, I would appreciate it.’ He threw a coin purse onto the man's lap, who shrugged then nodded weakly.

  ‘Mr. James, Flats Lagoon is a Tech Hunter town. If there’s any cure for your disease, it’ll be there.’

  Wrinkle stood in front of Hannen blocking his exit, trembling. ‘Yo-You can’t just abandon us! We need you.’

  Hannens smile softened and he placed a hand on the Hivers shoulder. ‘You think yourself a coward, Wrinkle. But do you know what tells me you’re not?’

  The Hiver shook his head. ‘You’re scared, but you’re still here. That makes you braver than most.’

  Wrinkle stood shocked, letting Hannen pass. His other travelling companions did not bother to try and stop the man. ‘I don’t get it Hannen. Ain’t no rumours ever said you were a selfless man, why’re you going so far.’

  The poet let out one last chuckle. ‘Because I’m not selfless. This is personal for me too. This is about family.’

  Now, the merchant understood too. His deranged sister must have still been alive and she was clearly involved in this mess too. Frankly, he had no desire to get any more involved either, especially since there was a chance he might live. The body in the corner of his eye did give him enough guilt to say one last thing though.

  ‘Hannen. If you find the bastards that did this. Show me their fucking corpses.’