The hallway stretching between the battle room and the next was much larger than the previous one. Callan followed after Sevvir for what felt like a solid ten minutes before they saw a door at the end.

  Sevvir immediately came to a halt, forcing Callan to jump back lest he run into her. “What is it?”

  “The door is already open,” she said, pointing.

  Before Callan could respond she took off, running at a half-crouch down the hallway, almost like she intended to drop onto all fours. Callan would have laughed at the idea, but then it occurred to him that she very well could do just that. Mjolk weren’t human, after all.

  Instead, he hastened after her. By the time he reached the door she was leaning halfway through the opening, peering around inside.

  After a minute she pulled back. Turning, she half-jumped at finding him standing there. Her surprised expression quickly changed into a scowl.

  “Why didn’t you wait back there?”

  “Was I supposed to?” he asked. “You didn’t say anything, just took off.”

  “It was implied.”

  “Hmm.” He leaned past her so he could have a look into the room. His eyes went wide.

  Unlike the previous two, this one was a chaotic mess, and showed obvious human activity. Several trenches had been rough dug near the door, and beyond these was a line of wooden spikes set into the ground. Piles of rubble covered the floor at various intervals, along with blackened marks on the walls and ceiling. A broken tower, also made of wood, leaned near the back wall, still somewhat supported by three legs but missing a fourth entirely. At the very back stood another door, also open.

  Those were all minor details, however.

  Over the rubble and fortifications crawled dozens of those orb-creatures. As he watched, one stumbled and fell into a nearby pit. A moment later it pulled itself out and continued meandering about aimlessly. None of them appeared to see him, but that would likely change the second they entered.

  After another minute of observation, he pulled himself back into the hall. Sevvir was watching him. “Any clues what happened in there?”

  “A couple, actually.” If there had been a final battle with Athakolu’s priests all those decades ago, this was likely where it had happened. “We must be close to the center of this place.”

  Which meant that Veritas—and Ulfa by extension—was just beyond.

  “She must have set this up for me,” he said, waving an arm towards the door. “Maybe not the fortifications, but I’d bet good money those monsters are a new addition. We’re going to have a fun time trying to get from one side to the other.”

  At least this time we have the element of surprise instead of the other way around, Xeph noted optimistically.

  “True.” Callan thought for a minute. “I wonder why Veritas didn’t employ them earlier? Would have made her assault against Aos a much easier matter, plus it would have kept her priests out of danger.”

  I think that Veritas would have had a difficult time maintaining their position of moral superiority if they had unleashed an army of metal monstrosities against the very town they purported to be protecting, Xeph said rather dryly.

  “They probably couldn’t use them even if they wanted to,” Sevvir added.

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I visited the place that was similar to this, the monsters inside stopped working if they left,” she said, pantomiming an orb walking along with her fingers, then having it fall over. “They wouldn’t even leave willingly. If I forced one to, it lost whatever forces enlivened it.”

  “Good to know if we need to retreat, I guess,” Callan glanced at the door. “Shall we do this?”

  “Actually, I recommend we take a bit of time to rest first. I still need to heal our wounds from the last battle.”

  As much as he wanted this to all be over, Callan couldn’t deny that taking a short break to rest and recuperate after their last battle was probably wise. After all, if Ulfa was waiting for him, she’d likely still be waiting another hour from now.

  Besides, after what happened back in the camp, a little extra precaution couldn’t hurt anything.

  They retreated down the tunnel until the door was just barely visible. Sevvir settled her fire onto the floor, where it roared up enough to fill the immediate area with light. The two of them sat side-by-side against the wall, sharing a few strips of dried meat between them.

  “You really think this other avatar is waiting for you?” Sevvir asked him around a bite of meat. Callan chewed on his own piece and thought for a minute. Finally, he nodded.

  “There’s no reason for her not to be. I don’t actually think she has anywhere left to go. If this was Veritas’s temple, then it’s all they have left.”

  “They could flee, rebuild elsewhere.” The mjolk looked thoughtful. “I know gods have done it before.”

  “Maybe, but if they were going to do that, I imagine they would have already.” Callan frowned down at the floor. It was the same question he’d been asking himself for a while now. What was Veritas sticking around for? Revenge against him? That didn’t seem right, but it was the only answer that made sense.

  “I need to tell you something, Callan.” He glanced up and found Sevvir watching him with an worried expression. She hesitated, then looked away. “When you do find this Ulfa, whether she’s in the next room or ten beyond... I can’t help you fight her.”

  “Oh.” Callan wasn’t sure how he should feel about that. Disappointed, probably? For some reason, though, it didn’t bother him. He opened his mouth to tell her.

  “I want to help you,” Sevvir amended, glancing up at him. “But my clan would never forgive me for getting involved in a fight between avatars, even petty ones. No offense, of course—”

  Hey!

  Callan smirked. “None taken.”

  “—But mercenary clans like mine only survive by being careful who we make into an enemy. And gods as a general rule have very long memories.”

  “It’s fine, Sevvir. It really is.”

  She didn’t appear to hear him. “If you were to sign a complete contract, it might be different. There are certain clauses I could invoke—”

  “Sevvir.” She stopped and looked at him. “It’s okay. Really. I think this is the sort of fight I need to do on my own. There’s already been too much collateral damage between Veritas and myself already. I don’t need you getting added to the pile.”

  Not to mention the terms of the duel still stand. Veritas may have strained them with their actions, but they haven’t broken. We must fulfill one last challenge to end this.

  “Right,” Callan said, rolling his eyes. He glanced at Sevvir. “See, even Xeph agrees.”

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  The mjolk blinked at him. Then her face broke into a grin, and she started to giggle. Callan frowned. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “You’re really worried about me? That’s cute, Callan.”

  “Hey, you wouldn’t be the first to get hurt because of my bad choices.” His mind flashed back to Sworv, and he felt his stomach drop out. Suddenly his resolve to hurry up this fight didn’t feel quite as strong as it had before.

  “I suppose you did prove yourself to be proficient in combat,” she said, glancing back the way they’d come. “Handling this other avatar by yourself should be no problem.”

  She probably meant that statement to be encouraging, but it only served to remind Callan of every worry and doubt that had been building inside his mind since the battle at the tower. He’d done his best to push them away for a while, but now all at once they bubbled to the surface. Combined with his sudden guilt over Sworv, they threatened to overwhelm him.

  He glanced down and managed a mumbled, “Right. Sure.”

  “I must admit, your use of that whip was surprising. I had thought it limited merely to utility.”

  “Depends on the situation.” Callan tried to think of a way to change the subject. “You know, your own powers are pretty neat.”

  “Can it cut through any metal?” Either the girl was oblivious to his attempts or was intentionally leading the conversation. “I could think of a hundred different applications for that.”

  “Stone and metal both.”

  “Fascinating.” She leaned back. “You’ll make short work of this other avatar, I am certain.”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  Sevvir glanced at him. “Oh?”

  “This place—” Callan gestured to the walls, ceiling, and floor, one after another. “It’s resistant to my stone shaping powers. That takes away a large range of attacks I normally rely on to slow Veritas down. Without that, she’s stronger than me by several degrees. That didn’t work out in my favor the last few times.”

  At least you’re no longer in faith debt, Xeph noted. Count what blessings you have.

  “Yeah, yeah. Thanks, buddy.”

  “But...” Sevvir was frowning in thought. She seemed to be giving this her full attention. “Surely you can simply defeat them from a distance.”

  “Maybe. My Rock Sling is good for about two shots before I exhaust it.”

  “Your whip—”

  “It’s a chain, actually, not a whip. And it’s got a serious drawback.” He held out a hand and summoned it. From where he sat the pile of coiled chain was nearly as tall as he was.

  The mjolk studied the overly long weapon. “...I see.”

  “Veritas chose her final battleground well. I can’t let myself underestimate them, because that’s already gotten people I cared about killed twice now. I’m at every disadvantage possible here, but especially so with a limited powerset to draw on. If I could just figure out the control aspect of my Wurmchain, it would be different, but Xeph’s tried for weeks and I still haven’t solved it.”

  Now that he spoke the words out loud, the hopelessness of his situation truly settled in. What in the world was he doing here? Running headlong towards a fight he knew he couldn’t win? Madness.

  Sevvir studied him for a moment. She got to her feet. “Well, let’s fix that, then.”

  “What?”

  “Your weapon. Maybe I can help.”

  He climbed to his feet. “I thought you weren’t allowed to help.”

  “Yes, with combat.” She rolled her eyes. “Training you is an entirely different matter. Though now that I think about it... you might be better off not mentioning this to any other mjolk you meet. If word got out I revealed clan training secrets...”

  “Your secrets are safe with me, I promise.”

  “Hmm. Very well. Let’s go over what you’ve tried so far. Walk me through it.”

  Callan explained the basics of Xeph’s lessons. While the god corrected a few finer points, he didn’t outright disagree with anything that Callan said, which seemed like a good sign. Even if the mjolk girl couldn’t understand anything about how god powers worked, he wasn’t giving her an incorrect view of the situation.

  When he finished, she leaned against the wall and studied him for several minutes. Callan felt himself squirm more and more under her gaze until he couldn’t bear it any longer.

  “Sevvir?”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, Callan,” she said, still studying him. Her head tilted slightly to one side. “But Xeph is a terrible teacher.”

  Hey! The god’s voice buzzed so loud it almost rattled Callan’s teeth. How dare she! I am without a doubt the best teacher! After all, they’re my powers. Who else would be better qualified to explain their use?

  Callan repeated—well, paraphrased—Xeph’s comments for Sevvir. The mjolk shook her head.

  “Oh, perhaps he was a thousand years ago, but training techniques have changed a lot since then. What Xeph has been teaching you—where you control your breathing and forge a connection by letting go of yourself—is known as the Technique of the Empty Bowl. Not the worst tool for learning to sense and control power, but horribly outdated. My teacher mentioned it in passing, mostly to point out how no one has used it for the last five hundred years, at least. There are at three other more common techniques that are in every way superior to it.”

  But that—She—I refuse to believe—that can’t be right... Xeph’s voice trailed off into unintelligible muttering.

  “So what do you recommend?” he asked.

  “Personally? I swear by the Technique of the Hungering Flame.”

  At that, Callan couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “Why does that name not surprise me when it comes to you, Sevvir?”

  The girl stuck her tongue out at him. “Do you want to learn my clan’s ancient mystic technique or not?”

  “No, no, please continue.”

  “Very well. To start, you know how Xeph has you concentrate on breathing? Don’t do that. Simply exhale.”

  Simple enough. I can handle that. Callan let his breath out in one deep exhale. He looked up at Sevvir for the next instruction—Right in time to see her fist descending on his face.

  *Crunch.*

  The next thing he knew, Callan was pressed against the wall, staring wide-eyed at the mjolk through a haze of red. He drew in a ragged breath. “What are you—”

  Her fist descended again. “Don’t talk. Exhale.”

  “How can I when you’re—” Another fist. It felt like a tooth came loose this time. He spat blood to one side. “Stop—”

  Another fist. And another. Callan’s vision was just a wall of red mist. Instinctively he raised Wurmchain, to fend her off with it if nothing else.

  The attacks stopped immediately. A moment later, a searing lance of pain crashed into him and he gasped, drawing in an involuntary breath. The red in his vision faded, along with the pain. Sevvir smiled at him and withdrew her smoking hand.

  “There, all healed. So, what do you think?”

  Callan swished his mouth and spat a bit of residual blood to one side. “I think I prefer Xeph’s teaching style, to be honest.”

  Thank you.

  “But my method does work.” The mjolk gestured to the side. “See?”

  Callan looked over, then did a double take. Wurmchain had shrunk. Now the chain in his hand was only six feet in total, maybe shorter. He shook it, still in disbelief, then turned back to Sevvir. “How?”

  “Because I told you, that method you were using is outdated. You might have achieved success with it after months of practice, but you were going about it the wrong way from the start.” Sevvir placed a hand gently on Callan’s shoulder. “I’m sure your god means well, Callan. It’s not his fault that he lacks the same sensory understanding that we all share as members of the elevated races. That’s really all there is to it.”

  “Yeah, but how,” Callan pressed. “You’re not using a god’s powers... are you?”

  Sevvir straightened. “I am not, but there isn’t that great a difference between the power Xeph grants, and the power that you intrinsically have inside of you. They work off the same principles. And shaping is easiest done when you force the world to bend to your will, rather than simply wait for it to happen.”

  “I... guess that makes sense?”

  Does it? Xeph grumbled. I disagree. We are not willcasters! You are an avatar to a god of stone and mountains. And mountains are slow and implacable, not things to make demands of! This goes against the very heart of my core dogma!

  “Yeah, but... maybe it’s what we need right now.” Callan looked down at the weapon. He closed his eyes, allowed the vision of mist to appear all around him. He could see Wurmchain undulating like it usually did. He reached out, feeling it slip through his fingers at first until he exhaled and applied a strong sense of will. Then suddenly its movements became less erratic, easier to follow.

  He opened his eyes. Wurmchain had grown about another foot in length. It wasn’t as quick or as easy as whatever had happened when Sevvir punched him, but... it also didn’t involve getting punched in the face. So that was progress.

  “Sevvir... thank you.”

  “Just consider it my way of helping in your little fight. Plus, it’s just another favor you owe me.” She blinked, as if she hadn’t meant to say this last part out loud. Her cheeks colored noticeably. Callan, however, just nodded in thought.

  “It’s going to take some practice to master, but...” He studied his weapon. “I think... I think we can do this.”

  With a thought, he dismissed Wurmchain. Then he summoned it back again.

  Yes... the weapon stayed at its new length between summonings. Where did the extra chain go? Was it just floating around as mist, or did it physically retract somewhere?

  Not important right now. What was important was practicing this new technique as much as he could before facing off against Veritas. He looked up and met Sevvir’s eyes.

  “I’m going to need an hour or two to accustom myself. After that... we go on the attack.”

  The mjolk smiled at him, her eyes glittering. “Music to my ears.”