Arzak put Zoi in charge of the camp while we were gone, in an undeniably nepotistic act. I didn’t quite know when Arzak had assumed responsibility for managing our ever-growing number of recruits—it just seemed to be something that came naturally to her. It suited me just fine anyway, as it left me time to recruit others and to plot our next moves. And occasionally grab a quarter hour of sleep, here and there.

  I stepped my heavy legs through the latest of the distant portals, powered by the mana potions that Corminar had created. He had two or three of our scouts constantly looking for the ingredients required for these potions, and even then, he was getting through them quickly. I’d told Arzak to assign more scouts to the task, but she’d not replied for a moment, instead inspecting me with sad eyes. She knew that I was tired—exhausted, even—but she didn’t voice it. We couldn’t afford to care about exhaustion, not now, not when the ritual was so close. In the end, she’d relented to the request with a nod.

  The portal opened to where I’d left Val and Lore the night before: on the streets of Lenktra. This was the southernmost city of the Gentle Tundras, and was a stone’s throw from the Goldmarch border. It was also where Yua governed—the leader we’d helped in ridding the Tundras of Niamh, and who now openly denounced Player kind. If anyone was going to aid us in our cause, it was her.

  Though Corminar had plenty to say on Lenktra as we made our way toward its small house of government, Arzak was quiet. Her eyes scanned the citizens of this small city, nodding back to those who greeted her, but she didn’t say a word. I knew my orcish friend well enough to know that she was deep in thought, and I could only hope that she was considering strategy. Though, judging by that glum expression, I worried it was another matter. Maybe she’d stopped to consider just how slim our chances of success were—a thought that wasn’t helpful right now.

  ‘We should create more of those explosive potions,’ I told Corminar. ‘They might mean we can actually win this fight. Tell the scouts when we’re back: don’t look for mana ingredients, look for—’

  ‘Styk.’ The elf had come to a stop, and turned to look me in the eye. ‘I appreciate that you have great faith in my alchemical abilities, but such creations are far out of reach. Such potions, they are of great power; it would have taken a dozen alchemists of my level an entire year to create a single one of those potions. It is the power and riches of queens that make such creations feasible. With what time we have, and what limited resources…’ He trailed off.

  Arzak looked somehow even glummer after hearing this news, the shoulder on her good arm beginning to slouch, while the contraption on the other meant that wasn’t possible on that side.

  I nodded. ‘Got it. Was just a thought.’

  We continued on through the city’s winding streets. It was a nice change to be in a town where there was still life; back in the southern Goldmarch, all we’d seen were towns devastated by the monsters that the malae had drawn from the wilds. Here, they’d had no such trouble.

  The people of Lenktra were in a golden age. They had made the switch to totally elected government, though admittedly their chosen leader was the same, if with a different title. That was more a testament to Yua’s kindness than anything else. The people here were no longer under the thumb of the Goldmarch Empire, as the Tundra was of no interest to Amira beyond plundering it for natural resources. Even the reforestation efforts were coming along—I’d seen saplings planted outside the city, and we passed two carts filled with bags of seeds to support the efforts further.

  It was a shame it would likely all be in vain.

  I pushed the thought aside as we arrived at Lenktra’s house of government, at a pair of great wooden doors adorned with metal details. A handful of guards stood to attention outside. ‘We’re here with Val and—’

  The guards stood aside, one of them adding, ‘We were told to expect your presence. If you will please accompany me to the audience chamber; the sorcerer is speaking.’

  It took me a moment to understand who the so-called “sorcerer” would be. As we were led through the building’s main chamber, to another pair of double doors on the other side, I began to hear a familiar voice.

  ‘...beseech you to act,’ Val said, her words made louder by means of magicks.

  The guard opened the doors as quietly as possible, and allowed us access to the chamber. We squeezed through the crowd of citizens that were attending this meeting, this chamber apparently open to the public to keep the workings of government transparent. I made quiet, whispered apologies as we made our way to the front.

  ‘You will lose people,’ my wife continued. She stood on a raised wooden podium in the centre of the chamber, the platform a dozen feet from the floor. On either side of the room were rows of wooden seats, each occupied by the leaders of this city. Those leaders all wore similar expressions, their brows furrowed, their eyes demonstrating concentration. They were receptive to Val’s arguments, maybe—but were they receptive enough? ‘Of that, I’m sure. And I understand that that’s a difficult thing to vote for, losing your people. But I assure you, if the Council’s plan goes unchecked, you will lose everyone. This is not a choice. There simply can’t be a choice.’

  I could hear Val forcing herself to sound professional, to speak clearly and concisely, and not in her usual manner. As she spoke, she touched her lower belly—was this an unconscious act, or a reminder to the city’s leaders that we would all pay the price of their inaction?

  ‘Please,’ Val said. ‘I ask once more. Prepare your soldiers. Ride to war.’

  At the centre of the left side of the chamber, another familiar face rose from her seat. ‘Thank you, Equivalence Vignor,’ Yua said. ‘We will adjourn for now. Upon the strike of midday, we return to discuss this request.’

  A murmuring swept over the room as all those—members of government and citizens alike—began discussing what Val had said. This was surely the first they’d heard of trouble, and trouble of this magnitude was something that demanded conversation. The rest of the crowd of citizens began filtering out, leaving me at the wooden barrier, my eyes on Val.

  She smiled when she saw me, then waved back at me.

  * * *

  The five of us regrouped in the centre of the atrium, standing on top of a complex mosaic of a compass, that—as far as I could tell—did actually point in the correct directions.

  ‘You heard me speak?’ Val asked.

  I nodded. ‘Caught the end of it. You sounded good up there. But I wondered…’ I touched my lower abdomen, just as she had.

  Again, Val smiled—a sight that I would never grow tired of. ‘It’s funny. I wondered, up there on that podium, if I was getting a bit of a belly. It’s happening, Styk—we’re having a baby.’

  I grinned back at her. ‘Yeah? I know?’

  Val hugged me. It took barely two seconds before Lore ‘aww’-ed and then joined the hug too. Corminar and Arzak did not join in.

  ‘Do we think they join?’ Arzak asked. It was unlike her to get straight to business, but then, time was of the essence.

  ‘I’d give us even odds,’ Lore replied. ‘I was doing some digging with the governors beforehand, while Val was getting ready to speak. They get the danger, and they agree with Yua that Players aren’t all that great, but…’

  ‘Riding to war is a whole other matter?’ I asked.

  Lore nodded. ‘Yeah, that.’

  Arzak shook her head. ‘Not good enough.’ It came across harshly, like this was directed at Val’s efforts, but I at least knew her well enough to realise that wouldn’t be her intent. ‘We need soldiers. We need yes from them.’

  Val gulped. ‘Well I tried my—’

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  ‘We going to lose,’ the orc continued. ‘We know this, don’t we? We going to lose, and…’ She caught sight of the metal contraption on her arm, and in a frantic effort she began to unbuckle its supporting straps.

  ‘Arzak,’ Corminar said, putting a hand on her shoulder. ‘What are you—’

  Only then did I realise Arzak was crying. ‘I done with this. I done fighting. I not face malae again. Can’t. Not, not…’ She began breathing in and out erratically. A panic attack.

  ‘Lore, get her some water,’ Val said. The barbarian jumped to obey. Corminar and my wife took Arzak by an arm each, leading her over to a bench at the side of the atrium. It creaked when the orc sat upon it. ‘Just breathe,’ Val continued. ‘Just breathe. It’ll pass.’

  ‘No, I…’

  ‘Breathe,’ Val said again.

  I’d been foolish to think that Arzak’s brush with the malae had only left physical injury. I’d allowed myself to believe that the blacksmith’s contraption made it all better. But things had changed irreversibly for my older orcish friend. She’d come close to paying the ultimate price, and that left wounds not just on the body, but on the heart.

  When the orc finally calmed herself, she put her head in her hands. ‘Sorry. I weak. I—’

  ‘You’re not weak, Arzak,’ Val reassured her.

  The orc pulled her head from her hands to look at us, tears still flowing—if slower than before. ‘I not sure I can do this. I think I… I think I not fight any more. I think I done.’

  Val and Corminar caught each other’s eyes.

  ‘If that is your decision…’ Corminar squeezed Arzak’s muscular arm, his fingers barely stretching halfway around it, ‘then we respect it.’

  Arzak drew in a deep breath, the air going all the way to her core. She held it there for a moment, calming herself, before letting it out slowly. ‘No. Moment of weakness. I see this through. Need all help we can get.’

  There was a moment of tense silence.

  ‘You sure?’ Val asked.

  Arzak nodded. ‘I sure. I see through. Not long now.’

  I wasn’t sure I believed her.

  * * *

  We’d eaten some lunch from a local sandwich shop by the time we were called back into the government chamber. It was nice to have some food that hadn’t been cooked over a campfire—or not cooked at all. I couldn’t quite tell if it was just hunger that made me order two, or if they were really that delicious. Or maybe Lore was just rubbing off on me; I’d never in my life seen him order fewer than two meals at a time.

  Governor Yua gestured for Val to take her place back upon the podium in the centre of the chamber, while the rest of us filtered in to the viewing area. There were far more people in the crowd this time around; word of Val’s warning had spread amongst the citizens of Lenktra. They’d come to hear for themselves.

  When Val was settled on the podium, Yua raised a hand to beg for silence. It happened immediately. ‘We have reached a decision,’ Yua declared. ‘Lenktra reiterates its position that Players are not the heroes we once thought them. Lenktra will always fight to protect its people.’

  I could hear the ‘but’ coming.

  ‘However…’

  Close enough. Val pressed her lips together, holding Yua’s gaze not with kindness any longer, but anger.

  ‘We are but a humble people; there are few soldiers among us. Let the other great nations send their armies. Let them fight in the wars of which they are so fond. The Armadans and the Sundorn, they are a war-hungry people—let them fight.’

  The words emerging from Yua’s mouth felt like a betrayal, after all we’d done for her. I forced myself to remember that they were not her words; they were the government’s words. Who knew her own feelings on the subject?

  ‘You talk about protecting Lenktra?’ I shouted from the stands. ‘Do you think your city won’t die with the rest of the world?’

  Guards shifted immediately towards me, but my arrest was halted by the raising of Yua’s hand. She held my gaze.

  ‘This is Lenktra’s position,’ she said, as if to say that it was the city’s view, not her own. If it was an apology, it felt hollow. ‘But we cannot make decisions on behalf of the individual. If citizens do wish to fight with you, then they may. But Lenktra will not raise its banners.’

  ‘Very well,’ Val said, though I could see her swallowing her tongue. She turned, not speaking to the governors any more but rather to the audience area. ‘Let it be known, then! Anyone who likes this world—anyone who wants to continue living in it—should set their affairs in order and travel through that portal.’

  ‘What portal?’ a woman in the audience called out.

  I flicked my wrist, and did the honours, opening a portal in the very centre of the government’s audience chamber—one that led back to our camp. I didn’t need to use mana to sustain it, not these days, and so there was no harm it remaining there.

  Val nodded at me; I’d understood her intent. If the portal remained there, then it would be a constant reminder to the government of Lenktra that they had not come to arms when the world was in danger.

  Maybe, just maybe, they would change their minds.