Threadbare - Complete Trilogy, page 75
“Nice,” Garon said. “Has explorer gotten you anything nifty yet?”
“Yeah. I can make like waymarks and waystones.”
The circle fell silent, and everyone put their cards down, and stared at Glub. “What?” Cecelia said. “That’s huge! Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
“Dudes, it’s lesser ones.” Glub put up his webbed hands. “They’re not permanent or anything. Just last like an hour and their range is piddly at this skill level.”
“Can you set them anywhere?” Garon asked.
“Not in here. It gives me beef about illegal geography. But outside, I think so, yeah.”
“What are these exactly?” Threadbare asked.
“He set de waymark, and anyone he had de waystones to can use dem to teleport to it.”
“That would have been very handy to know before we got in here,” Threadbare said, glancing at the darkened space that was the ‘door’ to the room, impassable from this side of things unless they were drawn forth.
“It only lasts like an hour, man,” Glub said, waving his hands. “I didn’t think it’d be useful!”
“Peace, Glub,” Kayin said. “We can use it in the fort. Carry a few to get out of tight situations.”
“It’s best if we keep them for emergency use only,” Cecelia said. “If they’re anything like the greaters, there’s a cooldown on those, right?”
“Nah, no cooldown. But you can only carry one at a time and using it breaks it.” Glub shrugged. “And when the waymark expires all existing waystones break.”
“Hm. Well it’s a good idea for you to make a waymark once we’re out and in a safe spot in the fort, and to give us waystones while we’re sneaking,” Threadbare decided. “In the meantime, yes, let’s practice. We can grindluck when we’re tired and Glub can sing to us to make us regain faster, or Zuula can tuck us in, or both.”
And so they whiled the time away in the small space, practicing on each other and themselves, in the case of buffs. Threadbare was happy to try out the new model skills he’d gained. The others weren’t so happy, especially the first time he tried out his ‘Sexy Pose’ without warning them about it. Adjust weight went over a bit better, even if he did look bizarre when he went too far toward one end of the spectrum or the other.
Still, he could see the uses. He was tired of being kicked or knocked away by strong foes. Being able to add on a few pounds so he could stand his ground now and again, that was good stuff. Even if it did debuff his agility if he added too much.
But in the end, he fell back on his golemist, ruler, and scout skills, along with a broad range of utility buffs. The scout skills were sorely underdeveloped, and they’d be very helpful for sneaking around. Golemist was fast becoming his focus. The others were counting on him to upgrade them as soon as possible, and if this could knock out some easy experience, then so be it.
Ruler now, ruler had been very useful when negotiating with royalty. The dwarves had royalty too, Cecelia confirmed. They’d need to talk with them as well, sway them to his side. So he got to work giving those skills a workout, throwing around decrees, organizing minions, and identifying his subjects. Also dropping silly quests for small experience rewards, and emboldening with speeches.
Most of his stamina went into buffs or duelist moves, sparring with the others. There was only so much that peaceful practice could do, so they stepped it up a bit, tearing into each other with brutal force, and using mend, repair golem, and slow regeneration to fix each other up. So long as he or Cecelia was on the sidelines with Eye for Detail up so they could monitor the fighters, the risk was negligible… but there WAS risk, and whatever mysterious force governed the universe judged that to be worth extra experience.
After about two days of this, they called the practice session quits and got dream quests from Zuula, getting ready for what was hopefully their decanting from the pack. Then there was nothing save for hands of grindluck, and quiet conversation. Threadbare spent most of it sitting on Celia’s lap, enjoying her arms around him as she reached past him and sorted her cards.
That was worth a few adorable levels, but it really wasn’t the point. The point was that they were going into their most dangerous situation yet, and he wanted all the hugs he could get from his little girl.
A thought occurred to him, as they wrapped up about the thousand and third hand of grindluck.
“You’re not upset we didn’t use your suggestion to go to Pads village, are you?”
“What? No, no,” Cecelia said. “It would have been poetic to get their help, but the more I think about it, that would come with problems of its own. If the Crown investigates the trail would lead back there, and it might risk people getting tortured. Besides, Graves will lie and tell people he’s from Pads, and he knows enough about the place to fake it. But the wagon’s not really from there and everyone there is ignorant of our ruse.”
“Yeah, and I trust the gribbits more than I do those peasants, desu,” Kayin threw in. “Less chance of the froggies selling us out for a handful of turnips.”
“I’m sure the peasants of Pads wouldn’t do that,” Cecelia said.
“Look at it this way, we’re taking the gribbits’ food, and not theirs, so we’re not tempting them to do so either way.” Garon added. “And whoa, that better be Graves.”
They turned to see a withered hand groping out of the darkness, questing around, and poking the various items they’d dragged in as cover. “It is,” said Threadbare. He walked over, tapped its pinky finger, and stood still while it drew him out.
Threadbare found himself drawn into a dingy barracks room, with beds lining the chamber, open footlockers sitting empty, and narrow slits in the walls letting in sunlight. The wooden floor was grubby, and many of the blankets were stained. But the walls were solid stone, and it was empty enough for their purposes. Graves put Threadbare down, and reached into the pack for another toy.
Threadbare took a long look around, then turned back to Graves. “Did everything go-“
BOOM!
The room shook, from the explosion. The noise was loud, close, and it was all Threadbare could do to not leap under the bed and take cover.
“What.” He said, when the stuffing between his ears stopped throbbing, “was that?”
“Siege cannons,” Graves said, drawing Cecelia out, then following up with the rest of the toys.
“Siege cannons? Oh, good!” Cecelia smiled. “Well, maybe. Shipments are going to be delayed, but there won’t be as many eyes watching for us.”
“What is a siege cannon?” Threadbare asked, rubbing his temples so hard that he smushed his head in a bit.
“We’re in the western block?” Cecelia asked Graves.
“Yes. Above the infirmary.”
“Come look.” She hopped off the bed and beckoned Threadbare to one of the arrow slits, then lifted him up so he could see clearly.
Threadbare looked down into a vast, curving courtyard, partitioned by smaller walls, each of them with patrolled ramparts and guards, most now clustered on the outer walls. Wagons and groups of busy men, hauling around crates and barrels and other supplies, filled the courtyard directly below, moving into a main building about twelve times the size of Caradon’s old house. From that main building stone wings spilled off, winding their way around inside the walls of the vast Fortress. They were in one such wing, he realized, about three stories up from the ground floor.
And in among the wings, breaking part of his view up, were great stone towers, five of them, each with a massive gleaming dome of bronze topping them. From each dome a black metal cylinder protruded, smoke rising from them in gouts and billows. As he watched, gears ground on the side of one bronze dome, and the cylinder started to retract.
“Do you see them?”
“I think so. You mean the big things up on the towers?”
“Yes. They can drop shells full of gas or geek’s fire or anything else the alchemists whip up, anywhere in Brokeshale valley. So long as we-the Crown, I mean, can keep the battlefield confined there, keep the dwarves from breaking out, we can shoot at them whenever they surface.”
“Dwarves prefer fighting underground,” Graves added, drawing out Kayin and putting her next to Zuula, who was already clambering down the bedpost. “But occasionally they launch a raid, cracking open a tunnel and assaulting the lines. When that happens, the guns-”
BOOM!
The room shook, and Threadbare fell off Celia’s shoulders. “Sorry, could you?” He asked.
“What?”
But she didn’t protest as he climbed back up on her shoulders again, and peered out. One of the other cannon had erupted in smoke and flames, and as he watched black clouds poured upward from its dome.
“I heard about those!” Garon said, coming over and hoisting himself up. “Took years to build, even with the best tinkers the Crown has working on it.”
“Yes, I studied them.” Cecelia threw in. “But since they’re firing, most personnel will be watching outward, and below, for surprise attacks to make sure the dwarves aren’t going to get sneaky. Which means we’ll have a little more room to sneak around.”
“Oh dear,” said Threadbare.
“Oh dear?” Glub looked at him, fishy eyes goggling. “What’s wrong with more sneaky room?”
“No, not that. There’s that Steam Knight again.”
“Oh, is one of the Steam Knights back from the front?” Cecelia added. “Which one? Fedifencer? Goliathan? Inkidoo?”
“I don’t know, but it’s the one you were driving around back at Outsmouth. You tell me what it was called.”
“What? Reason? Impossible! Garon, take him, would you?”
Garon shifted Threadbare over to his shoulders, as Cecelia clambered up, porcelain feet scrambling for purchase on the rough stone blocks of the wall.
And there below her, battered and a bit burned-looking, but still very much intact, was Reason. Its massive helm passed not ten feet below the arrow slit, giving her a very clear view of the cloth covering that no other steam knight in Cylvania had.
“Impossible! Impossible!” She said, putting her hands on her hips. Then she hastily scrambled down, as one of the guards on a distant parapet glanced her way. “That… no. Can’t be done.”
“What can’t be done?” Kayin asked.
“Steam Knight armor can only be piloted by the Steam Knight who made it. You CAN’T use another Steam Knight’s suit. The magic doesn’t work. Worst case, you botch, and the suit tries to kill you.”
“It looks like it’s not as impossible as you think it is,” Threadbare said. “Because there it goes right now. Could they have animated it?”
“No. It… animating things willy-nilly on them is dangerous. You need the right spells and sequence, and only steam knights get those. I… suppose someone could have completely taken the suit apart and reassembled it, but that would take a month, even for a top-tier tinker. It hasn’t even been half that. And I don’t know any top-tier tinkers who could be spared for that.” Cecelia frowned. “Something’s going on here.”
“It went through a big portcullis in the eastern wall,” Threadbare said, then hopped down from Garon’s shoulders. “Thank you.”
“That’ll be the machine bay.” Cecelia sighed and rubbed her chin, ceramic rasping on ceramic. She glanced around at the assorted doll haunters, golems, and very worried necromancer. “Graves, how secure are we here?”
“The fish were an out-of-cycle shipment, they told me. I get to spend the night here, then it’s off with the wagon tomorrow at dawn. I’ve been here an hour and no one else has come by, so it’s probably pretty safe here.”
“No problems getting in the gate?”
“No, though they did wonder why so many fish were coming from Paws. There’s no big bodies of water down there. I told them that a bunch of fishermen had passed through and traded for stuff, but the village found the fish not to their taste. That got some picky peasant jokes tossed my way.” He shrugged. “They checked the barrels and decided not to turn down free food. The only problem is that I don’t know where they’ve taken Madeline’s barrel. They wouldn’t tell me.”
“That’s a problem. But it’s a problem we anticipated,” Threadbare said. “Garon? Time for a King’s Quest.”
He sent the details across. It was very simple, when all was said and done, as was the monetary reward. Just enough to synergize with Garon’s mercenary skills.
“Find Madeline, huh? Works for me.” The minotaur grinned. “Sure, I’ll Do the Job. And Follow the Dotted Line.” He glanced around, and over at the door. “Goes right out the door. One minute.”
He hoisted himself up to the window again.
BOOM!
The toys waited for the explosion to fade, and Garon dropped down, spoke a few times until he was sure they could hear. “…Testing, testing… yeah, okay. The line doesn’t cross the courtyard, so I can probably get to her without going outside. Piece of… No wait, hold on. I have something I need to do. I need to talk to Mastoya.”
“Can you do dat, bring her here, and den go talk to Mastoya?”
“Mmm… bad idea.” He held up a pouch, and jingled it. “I only have so many of the enchanted camouflage beads. I don’t know how many it’ll take to get to Madeline.”
“How about this?” Cecelia asked, coming out of a long rumination. “We split into two groups. One group goes and gets Madeline loose and raids the General’s office. Garon, you go with that group so you can hang behind there and talk with Mastoya. Glub, you go with that group so you can give Madeline a waystone. You Waymark this room, and everyone Waystones back here when they’re done. Including you, Garon, if the talk doesn’t go so well. Promise?”
“Promise.”
“I’ll lead the other group. We’ll go see if I can get reason back.”
The toys would have blinked if they could. Graves did blink. “With all due respect, Captain-”
“I’m not your Captain anymore. But I am a Steam Knight, and if I can get Reason back, I can beat feet all the way to the front, with everyone safely inside the cockpit.”
Garon shook his head. “And the guns firing on the rogue Steam Knight every few-“
BOOM!
“-thank you dramatic irony, for making my point.”
“No, they can’t target anything as small as Steam Knight armor,” Cecelia shook her head. “Besides, the shells are hollow, used for gas and alchemical dispersion. Reason could take a near hit, no problem.”
“And what if they call in the Hand to deal with you?” Kayin pointed out.
“It’d be overkill. I don’t see why. Besides, they’re probably busy with whatever assault the dwarves just launched.”
“Zuula tink dis be bad idea.”
“Look. I’m…” Cecelia raised her hands, and smoothed down her green dress, fingers shaking with agitation. “I’m not stupid. I know it’s a long shot. But I at least want to go and see if it’s possible. If it’s not, then we’ll wait for you guys to check the ledgers, and pick a shipment to put us in. Then we’ll see about getting over with that convoy’s goods.”
“And assigning me as a driver,” Graves said. “I’m guessing I’ll wait in here until you all send word?”
Threadbare nodded. “I think this is close enough to the original plan. It should be dark soon. Who wants to go with which group?”
“You’ll need someone who knows where the commander’s office is, Garon,” Kayin slid over to join the tiny minotaur.
“Zuula don’t want to get nowhere near Mastoya. Not go well for anyone if she see me,” said the plush shaman, trudging over to plop down next to Cecelia.
“I got to go with you to give Madeline a waystone, right?” Glub said, holding up a hand to Garon. “High five, team sneaky!”
“Um…” Said Fluffbear, looking back and forth between Cecelia, then Garon. “You said she was a cleric?”
“Yeah, of the goddess of war.”
“I’m a cleric too. Maybe I can help you talk with her.”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
“I’ll pray once we get there and ask Yorgum about it. If he says it’s a bad idea I’ll leave with the others.”
BOOM!
The doll haunters and golems were starting to get used to the thunderous shots, by now. They simply waited half a minute, then Garon resumed. “All right, just make sure you’re ready to use that waystone the second things go south. Because they might.”
“That leaves me with you,’ Threadbare said, patting Cecelia’s shoulder. “You’ll need a scout to whisper to the others, just in case.”
“And I’ve got the easy job,” Graves said, reaching into the pack and pulling things out, one by one. He nearly dropped the barrel of fish, before the others went to help.
“Why empty it?” Threadbare wondered. “Oh. It’s going to burst at some point when Madeline’s spell wears off, isn’t it?”
“Yes. And also… ha!” Graves said, as they hauled out the crate of soulstones. “I’ll need to keep them company. And it gives me access to a hell of a lot of skills if I need to borrow anything. Like oh, that wind’s whisper thing so I can call you for help if something goes wrong here. Because it might. There are so, so many ways everything could go wrong, here.”
“Yes,” said Threadbare. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be, man,” said Glub. “Savin’ the world, right?”
“The Kingdom, anyway,” Cecelia said. “And he’s got a point. If we don’t take the risks, other people have to. And we’ve got a backup plan if we die. Again.”
“Might I remind you that I never took my last decree down?” Threadbare pointed out, and they chuckled.
For yeah, they had all pledged to the little bear, to be his subjects and reap the bounty of his Noblesse Oblige. And there on their status screens, the simple message remained –
“Nobody die. Again.”
“Almost dark,” Garon said, glancing toward the window. “No better time. Glub?”
“Create Waymark. Create Waystone, Create Waystone, Create Waystone…” The fishmen solemnly handed out the weirdly-marked rocks that appeared with each chant.
