Page 31 of Immortal Alliance

Variant moves to clasp the talisman behind my neck, but the kelpie beats him to it. Once the clasp is fastened, the power moves through me like a shockwave. The burst of dark, pilfered magic fills me. Tainted, succulent power.

Reaching deep into my soul, I summon my body to me. The Veil fights the connection, but I feel my vessel begin to crack and shatter around me like thick porcelain tapped with a hammer. It falls away like dust on the wind, and I stare into the reflective walls of theThrest.

“It’s good to be back. Now, we can begin our plans for Silvanus...”

***

DRAGAN

Mercenary Stronghold

Galmer leads me through a set of curtains where a gallery overlooks the entirety of the stronghold. I fight to keep the surprise from my face when I notice the sheer number of flags that represent the different clans.

“There must be legions of mercenaries here beneath each banner,” I say, despite my efforts to keep the awe from my voice. “I had once envisioned something similar for my own kind—for the gargoyles. We were prosperous before the war, but when I was... punished for rebelling against the false king, most of my people were killed or forced to guardhispalace.”

“Where are the rest of you?” Galmer asks.

“Hopefully still in the Gorge. I don’t believe there are more than forty of us now, though, even if the Shadow Realm remains untouched by Variant. I can sense when another of us is lost.” My thoughts return to Thoradin and his spirit in the Veil. He seemed so at peace with his fate—I wish nothing but the same for the rest of my comrades.

“I hope you eventually find your people again,” Galmer says.

I nod but my people aren’t the subject of my thoughts at the moment. “You have hundreds of thousands of mercenaries at your command, and I’m certain those who dwell in the city would gladly fight for you. Why haven’t you attempted to take out Variant already?"

Galmer shakes his head and points to the market district. “They are tired of fighting. They come here for protection, honest work, and a chance at survival. Those who wish to fight are tested and united with a chieftain to further their skills. But our goal is to strike silently and carefully so we lessen the number of casualties.”

“How?”

“Our clans have infiltrated the ranks of Variant’s army—some of them watch over the precincts and the cities in the realms, and some transport refugees and resources back here. Everyone within these walls has a part to play,” Galmer explains. “Take a walk through the streets. Maybe, when you return, you’ll understand what I’m trying to accomplish.”

The centaur takes his leave. I walk along the gallery and vault over the railing, landing on my feet and feeling the ground tremble beneath my boots. No one stops to stare as I wander through the stronghold. No one here asks questions or passes judgment on those who walk the streets. Every species is equal, in a way. Even so, I can see the pain of their pasts as vividly as my own—warriors with scars on their faces and maidens with fatherless children. All are dressed in the dark colors of mourning to honor their loved ones.

My journey takes me to each corner of the stronghold. I observe fine blades crafted by the blacksmiths, smell the books at the library where the spellcaster guild meets, and purchase flowers for Eilish at the botanist’s shop where herbs hang in the window. Flowers because it’s time I ate my pride and apologized for the way I’ve been acting towards her. Yes, it hurt and angered me to learn that Baron and Pyre had her at the same time. At first I couldn’t understand my reaction—I already knew Baron was her lover and I had my suspicions about Pyre. So why did her news bother me so much? After reflection, I realized it was simply because I’d been left out in the cold. I didn’t like the fact that the two of them gave her so much pleasure while I was left to argue with Kolvar.

And once I realized it was purely jealousy that was guiding my actions, I felt beyond ashamed. And embarrassed.

The sun begins to set in the distance, and I feel the cool breeze against my cheek. On my way back to the others, I see the familiar sight of a stone beast—a guardian, a gargoyle—perched on the wall. The creature’s eyes flash before he leaps from the stronghold, wings spread as he swoops down to land in front of me.

“I never thought I’d see the King of Shadows in this place,” the gargoyle’s deep voice rumbles. He’s not one of mine. “After I heard of the raids on the Gorge, I figured you’d been slain with the others.”

The news of my home falling to Variant should surprise me, but it doesn’t. I’d expected such to be the case when I’d first left with Eilish and the others. I look down at the flowers in my hand and realize I can’t smell their sweet fragrance or bask in the glow of the setting sun any longer. Pain and loss roil within me and I struggle to meet the other male’s gaze.

“Where do you come from, brother?” I ask finally.

“My name is Myerdoth and I once served our maker.” His statement is short and curt, and I get the impression Myerdoth is a man of few words. “And before you ask of your army, they are no more. Only four gargoyles of your original forces remain. I don’t know their whereabouts.”

“So there are… six of us in all the realms…” My chest clenches tightly. “I thought more would have resisted, or maybe fled the Gorge before Variant could take command.”

Myerdoth simply shakes his head.

“My companions and I are on a mission,” I say, choosing to change the subject. I can’t think of the failure I am to my own kind. “We aim to stop Variant and all who conspire with him. I offer you a place with us.”

He seems like an honorable man, and I would regret not asking.

“I’ll consider it. But you should know... just because there are only six of us still living doesn’t mean it has to remain that way.”

“Explain.”

“There’s a way to create more of us… more gargoyles.”

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