The next day, Clay looked out at the tower and waited.

  It was one of the closest forts to Janburg, built on the top of a small ridgeline. The slope of the hill was a little sharper than most, but it was also a little farther from the towers on either side. He’d noticed that the distance between it and the closest clumps of hillgrass was also the shortest as well, and a faster sprint up a steeper hill was more appealing to him than a long run across a slight incline.

  Clay looked up. The sun was still low in the sky; a quiet breeze rustled the grass around him. Despite the early hour, it was already getting warmer. Unless he wanted to be a bit sweatier than he already was, it was time to get moving.

  He took a deep breath and started his first [Chant]. The Canon was a comforting, rumbling power in his chest as he took his first steps out of cover. There was something funny about that name, but he didn’t spare the time to think about it. After all, there were other things to worry about now.

  The first few strides brought him across the bare ground quickly. Just as fast, he heard the shriekers call out. Echoing screams tore out from the towers to the right and left, along with quieter shrieks from all directions. Clay ran harder. He knew from previous experience that he didn’t have much time.

  He reached the slope and started to climb. It was like trying to run up a wall. His legs burned and his breath grew short, even as he tried to maintain the [Chant]. Clay had a brief image of him reaching the top only to have run out of air to use the [Chant] and he had to force himself not to laugh away what breath he could suck into his lungs. Ahead of him, the tower came alive as the creatures at the top of it gave a second set of screams. This time they seemed far more urgent and alarmed, as if they had realized that he wasn’t just testing them now.

  Clay welcomed their brief moment of panic, as it gave him the chance to sprint nearly halfway up the hill before the swinefolk started to throw chunks of stone and wood down at him. The projectiles spun and bounced their way down the hill, as if they were toys in some [Child]’s game. He was forced to weave back and forth to dodge them, something that was made considerably more difficult thanks to the fact that some of them were traveling far faster than others. Given the strength it would take to hurl that debris at the speeds he was seeing, Clay wasn’t entirely looking forward to confronting the massive swinefolk ahead of him.

  All the same, he reached the summit of the hill just as the Canon was finishing. He felt the [Chant] lock into place, and the boulder immediately accumulated above his head.

  It was still gathering when a trio of swirling orbs of nothing burst from the tower’s windows and swung towards him.

  Clay frantically dodged and felt his heart leap into his throat as the orbs curved to try to track his movement. He barely managed to avoid having his arm consumed as one went by, close enough that he was able to smell the ravening energies inside it. Another nearly clipped his helmet and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the things begin a broad curve to come around at his back.

  He turned his attention back to the tower and grimaced. Clearly, the more advanced versions of the eaters were a lot more dangerous. If he hadn’t increased his [Valor]…

  With an effort, he shoved that thought aside and unleashed the Canon.

  The boulder hurtled towards the tower as if it had been thrown by some kind of siege engine. Clay heard the swinefolk inside the fortifications squeal in terror; he pictured their twisted features writhing as they tried to back away from the walls.

  Then it hit, and the stone didn’t just shatter against the crude gates. It pulverized them, smashing them and the wall above them in a single devastating blow. Masonry and brickwork crumpled inwards like someone crushing a piece of parchment in their palm. The tower itself shook, and Clay saw a spray of dust and stone chips as the boulder exited the far side.

  Perhaps if the place had been built by solid craftsmen, true masters of their art, it might have withstood the blow. As it had been slapped together by monsters, it collapsed almost immediately, tumbling down in a roar of dying stone and snapping timbers. Along with it came the notifications.

  {Flesh Eater slain!}

  {Feral Squealer slain!}

  {Flesh Eater slain!}

  {Flesh Eater slain!}

  {Flesh Eater slain!}

  {Flesh Eater slain!}

  {Wild Smasher slain!}

  {Feral Squealer slain!}

  {Feral Squealer slain!}

  {Wild Smasher slain!}

  {Wild Smasher slain!}

  {Feral Squealer slain!}

  {Flesh Eater slain!}

  {Flesh Eater slain!}

  {Wild Crusher slain! Soul increases by 40}

  {Wild Smasher slain!}

  {Wild Smasher slain!}

  {Wild Smasher slain!}

  {Feral Squealer slain!}

  {Feral Squealer slain!}

  {Feral Squealer slain!}

  It took him a moment to register that it hadn’t just been the lower level monsters that had died in the collapse. A cloud of dust billowed out towards him, but Clay veered away from it. He glanced backwards and saw that the orbs that had been chasing him had snapped out of existence. Were the land eaters going to fire another set of them at him?

  Before he could find the answer to the question, a trio of blurred shapes burst out of the dust and shot towards him.

  They resembled the squealers in a lot of ways. Their hunched backs remained the same, as did their method of running on their clenched fists and hooved feet. The shriekers were bigger, though; their tusks were longer, almost like small spears, and the jagged daggers were more like serrated, hooked swords. All three of them had their bloodshot eyes fixed on him and ran with their mouths already open.

  He saw them rear back to scream—only to cough as dust from the dying tower trailed from their mouths. Clay smirked and started the Canticle of Ice. It would be a good idea to take care of them, and then he could worry about the rest.

  As if sensing his intentions, they charged at him, still dribbling dust-filled drool from their panting, hacking maws. Clay set himself to fight, pushing his spear out in front of him. He didn’t want to impale one of them and let the other two have free shots at him, however, so he mostly just focused on turning their headlong assaults aside. A feinted thrust here, a quick slash there, and a dodge to avoid a pair of whistling blades, and he saw them skidding to a stop in the ravaged dirt.

  Clay turned, keeping his spear pointed in their direction. The Canticle was nearly finished, and once he’d skewered them, he could worry about the eaters and crushers behind him. These ones had probably jumped from the top of the tower as it fell; the others were still buried in the rubble. It should give him enough time to—

  His thoughts broke off as the shriekers turned back to him, hacking out slimy balls of mucus onto the ground. Their eyes were filled with frustration and anticipated triumph as they came back towards him, their hooves kicking up clods of dirt as they sprinted in towards him. Maws opened once more, and Clay braced himself for another set of screams.

  What hit him a moment later was beyond anything he’d been expecting. The air rippled, as if the shriekers had broken the world around themselves somehow. Clay staggered backwards, his vision going blurry and his ears ringing with pain. Worst of all, the stunning impact ruined any chance he had of completing the [Chant]; the spell fell to pieces as the half-smeared shapes of the shriekers leapt for him.

  Half-blind and his head still ringing like a giant bell, Clay reacted mostly on instinct. He counter-charged the incoming monsters, picking one of the blurs and leaping towards it. Both of the other shriekers came at him from the side, but he fended them off with a wide swipe of the spear. The one he’d chosen came at him while the spearpoint was still out and to his left, its swords mere blurs in Clay’s sight.

  Clay reversed his grip on the spear and thrust with the butt of the weapon, catching the shrieker with the kind of impact that wouldn’t have done its tower any good. He felt skin break and bones crunch beneath the hit and he smiled despite the pain between his ears. The vague shape he’d struck went flying backwards into the dirt. It was still rolling to a stop when he caught up with it and brought the spearblade down on its form in a brutal overhand strike.

  {Feral Shrieker slain! Soul increases by 40}

  He spun, hurling the corpse back at the other two with a smooth motion. His vision had cleared enough to see their eyes go wide with rage as they were forced to scramble aside. Past them, he could see shapes shifting in the rubble; two of them were hulking things that were tossing aside slabs of stone, while others were smaller things that seemed to be carving through the wreckage with flashes of crackling non-light.

  Clay’s eyes narrowed, and he decided to change tactics. He started the [Chant] of the Carol of Wind and braced himself mentally. The shriekers were already starting to build up speed, their hooves and hands digging furrows in the soil. Their mouths gaped open as they sucked in another breath, and Clay narrowed his eyes.

  They came at him screaming again, and once again that shivering wall of sound smashed into him. This time, however, he’d braced for it. Clay forced himself to maintain his focus, even as his vision flickered and his ears were in agony. His concentration wavered.

  Then he snarled out the last syllables of the [Chant], and triumph tore through him as he felt the spell take hold. The swirling wind caught both shriekers midleap. They were both thrown from their feet; he saw their mouths still gaping open as the burst of wind sent them twirling and twisting skyward, like horrible, mutated leaves being kicked up into a beautiful summer sky. Their fearsome shrieks went from agonizing to panicked, and Clay waited until they were higher up than any tower he’d ever seen before he released the spell.

  Clay walked forward, not wanting the plummeting monsters to fall on top of him. He could already see the crushers coming out of the dust, and he didn’t want to give them the chance to build up momentum for a charge. As he walked, he started the Melody of Frost, hoping it would be ready before the enemy was. He didn’t pay much attention as two screaming shapes fell out of the sky with wet impacts.

  {Feral Shrieker slain! Soul increases by 40}

  {Feral Shrieker slain! Soul increases by 40}

  Sure enough, the monsters were still blinking and coughing as they left the still-settling dust cloud. Both crushers utterly towered over him, and even though their armor was torn and their hide was scraped from the rubble, their wounds were already closing. Their massive hammers looked heavy enough that even Orn might have struggled with them, and there was an unending hatred in their eyes as they started forward.

  Behind them was a trio of eaters, larger and less fragile-looking than the ones he’d encountered before. Their robes seemed completely untouched by the dust, and their hands already flickered with terrible power. Clay had just enough time to grimace before they unleashed another trio of the ravening orbs that had nearly killed him before.

  Clay ducked, weaved, and jumped to avoid the incoming orbs. As the orbs came back around, he backpedaled to give himself a little more time before the crushers caught him. They were already building up speed, their massive bodies like living battering rams ready to smash the life from him.

  He finished the Melody just before they reached him. The ground just in front of him turned into a sudden patch of ice, the once soft soil coated in a thin, nearly invisible layer of frozen water. It caught both crushers by complete surprise; he saw their narrow-set, beady eyes widen as far as they could go when their footing turned impossible.

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  One of them fell on its face immediately, its feet going out from under it in a single stride. The other flailed with its hammer, trying to regain its balance. Its weapon struck the ground and cracked through, spreading fractures through the frozen ground. An expression close to triumph flashed across its twisted face as it managed, arms spread wide, to avoid falling.

  Then Clay stepped forward and rammed his boar spear straight through the thing’s left knee. It collapsed instantly, sending its hammer skidding away. He backed up as it braced itself with one hand, looking up with a face of blind fury. The roar that tore out of its throat didn’t compare very well to a shrieker, but it was impressive.

  Unfortunately, Clay had been listening for a different sound. The burning hum of the orbs was already closing in on him from behind, so rather than facing the wounded crusher, he glanced backwards and dodged out of the way. They weren’t moving as quickly this time, and now that he could see the gestures of the eaters that were guiding them, it wasn’t nearly as hard to guess which direction they would go. He evaded all three of them easily.

  The wounded crusher was not nearly as lucky. A light-devouring orb ate its way through the thing’s left shoulder; another one made a head-sized hole in its right arm. Both were terrible wounds, but it was the last one that made everything that much worse. It had swerved up and away in an attempt to avoid striking a fellow monster—putting it on a perfect course to catch the crusher’s head as it jerked back and roared in response to the other hits.

  Clay winced at the sight of the resulting wound. The crusher’s mangled body slumped onto the frozen ground a heartbeat later.

  {Wild Crusher slain! Soul increases by 40}

  He saw the eaters begin to whisper their spells again and grimaced. They obviously weren’t going to give up anytime soon. Clay dropped the Melody and began the Madrigal instead, dashing forward as he did so. The last crusher was still trying to scramble back to its feet, hands slipping on the ice, when the ice fled from beneath it. It triumphantly raised itself onto its hands and knees, just in time for Clay to drive the tip of his spear down through the top of its skull.

  {Wild Crusher slain! Soul increases by 40}

  Leaving his spear behind, Clay drew out his bow. It took him only a moment to fit a new arrow to the string; he shot just as the orbs were beginning to form.

  His target had been the closest of the eaters; it jerked in panic when it saw the arrow coming for it, shouting some squealing cry.

  Then the orb it had summoned vanished, and what looked like a sheet made out of midnight swept up and across its torso. The arrow struck it and seemed to fall apart, disintegrating into dust too fine to see. Clay blinked in surprise, remembering the warnings not to get too close. He didn’t want to know what that magic would do to someone who stumbled into it.

  Instead of maintaining his distance, however, Clay dashed in closer, drawing his knife. The other two hurled their orbs at him, but he was too close for them to curve the original paths too quickly; they both shot past, and he saw them preparing to abandon the spell in order to shield themselves.

  A heartbeat later, Clay completed the Madrigal, and the whole area filled with ash.

  He heard grunts of shock from the eaters and grinned. Clay continued forward, positioning himself right near their smoke-shrouded forms. The swirling, ember-strewn ash reduced them to mere shapes, ones that flailed and coughed and hacked in the cloud. At least one of them tried to protect itself with the same arcane shield, but it faded without accomplishing anything; another tried to begin another summoning for an orb, but violent coughs kept it from finishing the spell.

  The third had the best idea, even if it was still a bad one. Clay watched it unlimber its whip and start to lash around in the cloud, trying to find him. He was forced to dodge that one as the spiked whip nearly hit him in the head, but the very next strike actually hit one of its companions. As they flailed blindly with their weapons, Clay decided to put a stop to it.

  He carefully stepped around the eaters and then lunged at one of the vague shapes that was currently trying to whip the life out of empty ash in front of it. For a heartbeat, the choking eater was free of the ash. Then Clay drove his Pell knife into its neck.

  {Land Eater slain! Soul increases by 40}

  It took him just a few more strides to repeat the trick, pulling another of the eaters into a lethal knife stroke. Then, as he turned to the last of them, he found it had just collapsed to the ground, making strangling noises. A moment later, he got the final notification.

  {Land Eater slain! Soul increases by 40}

  He let the [Chant] fall apart a moment later, leaving him standing in front of the tower’s wreckage, with the corpses of the swinefolk scattered around. Covered in sweat, Clay took a deep breath of fresh air, relishing in the smell of it.

  Then he recovered his spear and started back down the hill. He could still hear the screams of the squealers in the distance, and his ethereal senses were warning him that they were closing in from all sides. If he wanted to destroy another two or three towers, he was going to have to move quickly.

  All the same, it was hard not to smile as he ran. He was moving forward yet again.

  The eater fell squealing from the sky, and Clay ignored it as he unleashed the Canon on swinefolk in front of him. His spell sent a spike of rock tunneling through both crushers and the wounded shrieker behind them. A [Chant] that could destroy walls didn’t treat the swinefolk any kindlier; the stone punched through both larger monsters and splattered the shrieker against a nearby wall. As the eater’s scream cut off with a wet smacking sound, the site of Clay’s latest battlefield went still.

  {Wild Crusher slain! Soul increases by 20}

  {Feral Shrieker slain!}

  {Wild Crusher slain!}

  {Land Eater slain!}

  {Achievement Reinforced! Swinebane: 30% increase to all skills and damage against swinefolk. Bonus increases to 60% versus Flesh Eaters, Feral Squealers, Wild Smashers, Land Eaters, Feral Shriekers and Wild Crushers.}

  Clay gave the notifications a dull stare, registering that he’d finally finished the [Achievement] he’d been hunting for all day. It hadn’t been the easiest experience, but it had definitely been worth it. The increase in power and speed had been palpable; the shriekers already weren’t even phasing him anymore when they screamed in his face. He’d even—

  He paused. There had been a shift in the rubble, something that had caused a small cascade of pebbles to trickle down. When he looked, he saw a crusher that had been stunned by the collapsing rubble now trying to fight its way free of the wreckage. Its eyes were maddened and wide, staring at him with abject hatred.

  With a sigh, Clay hefted his spear and walked over. He should have known there was at least one left. The swinefolk seemed to take comfort in groups of threes, after all. At least it wasn’t trying to run.

  {Wild Crusher slain!}

  Clay made it back to Janburg more or less intact.

  He’d been forced to fight his way past more than one batch of enraged, lower-level monsters, all of whom seemed to want to pile in to get what they deserved. The bonuses from [Swinebane] had made them more and more trivial to deal with, though they had still tired him out a little. It was worth the effort to clear some of them out, though. Every one that he killed was one less swinefolk the Lair could throw at them, when they pushed closer in.

  The others were waiting for him at the entrance. They all looked a little worn themselves, though most of them were just looking at him with some concern. Mitchell stepped forward first, looking Clay up and down. “Sir Clay, we’d heard explosions of some kind. Are you all right?”

  Clay gave them a bright smile. “Yeah. Got close a couple of times, but we should be ready to start in on the next batch of defenses tomorrow.” He looked over them in turn. “How did it go for you?”

  Olivia smiled. “We did well. Are you going back again tomorrow?”

  “I am, but not alone.” He gave them a smile. “I hope you’re ready, because we are going to be working hard tomorrow.”

  Contrary to expectations, Olivia was the first one to accompany him on their assaults against the towers. She’d been quiet at first, but as they made their way further through the hills, she spoke up. “So. You discovered more [Chants].”

  He nodded. “I did. I think you should be able to use them around level fifteen or so. As long as your [Memory] is at maximum.”

  Olivia snorted derisively; they both knew that it would always be the first [Stat] she increased. “Only a few levels to go for that, then.” She fell silent for a few moments and then sighed. “The others know, by the way.”

  Clay gave her a glance. “Know what?” She looked back at him, and he blinked. “Oh. They know about the [Chants].”

  She nodded. “Yeah. A few of the [Guards] and villagers saw you doing your magic out past the river. The news traveled quickly.” Olivia glanced back in the direction where they had left the others. “I had managed to keep my magic a bit more… discreet, but even the Baroness was asking me about it now. We’ll have to tell them something soon.”

  He looked back at the path they were following, thinking through their options. Keeping the others in the dark about the [Chants] was never supposed to be the plan; he’d shared them with all of the adventurers he’d worked with, and half of Pellsglade was probably using them by now. The risk was fairly minimal as well; after all, the number of people he’d be teaching was small, and it wasn’t as if Janburg was a hub of trade and news. It wasn’t likely that any [Chants] taught here would spread much further than the people who lived here.

  All the same, there was a chance that they would spread, especially once the Lair was dead and people heard that the area was safe. They’d flock to Janburg, just as they were migrating to Pellsglade, and rumors of magic wielded by [Commoners] would only make the place attract more attention. How long would it be before a pack of bandits could attack using [Chants] to strengthen themselves? Or how long before…

  Clay frowned. He’d been worried about the King finding out and teaching his soldiers, but King John already knew [Chants]. The man had used them against him, just like an adventurer, and it seemed that he’d known some that even Master Taylor and Syr Katherine hadn’t been aware of. Why hadn’t he taught them to his own soldiers, instead of sending them to learn from Clay? Or had he just been giving himself an excuse so that he could blame Clay for whatever magic his troops wielded later on?

  It was a puzzle for another time. [Chants] were already spreading among the adventurers, unless the Pellsglade heroes and the Band of Ruffians had been a lot more secretive than he was expecting. Clay hadn’t exactly been stealthy about his own magic, and he’d even told some [Commoners] outright that they could learn it themselves. Was there any point in denying it to the group he was currently teaching?

  At the same time, the sooner they learned it, the more likely they would be to stumble across something they couldn’t handle. Clay pictured Lairs being opened by accident by his own students and shuddered. There had to be some way to prevent it.

  He thought for a moment longer and then sighed. “I’ll tell them they can start learning at level five. That should give them enough [Stats] to keep them from getting destroyed by the Poisoned Wish if they run across it somewhere. Most of the major combat [Chants] don’t show up until that level, anyway.”

  Olivia glanced at him. “Do you really think that [Chant] is so easy to run across?”

  Clay looked back at her. “It’s popped up whenever I’ve seen a Lair, and sometimes it was left as a trap. We almost lost someone to it in Rodcliff. The baron there did actually die to it, as did a few [Commoners]—and that’s if you only consider the people who died right when the Lair formed. Hundreds of people get killed by the monsters that come out. We can’t let that [Chant] spread.”

  She walked along in silence next to him, her expression serious. When she spoke up again, her words were cautious, almost tentative. “Without the Garden’s Peace, though, they can’t seal a Lair. All they could ever do is make it go back to sleep for a few years, like most of the adventurers do.”

  He frowned. “True, but unless they get enough [Will] to be ready for it, I don’t want them to even try. I had good fortune at the Tanglewood Lair, but if I hadn’t managed to keep control of it…”

  Clay shook his head, trying to banish the horrible images running through his head. He didn’t know exactly what happened when the Poisoned Wish was said near an already open Lair, but he could only imagine that it wasn’t good. His friends would have been lucky to survive, let alone the village itself.

  He’d been walking along in silence, absorbed in his own terrible thoughts, when Olivia spoke up again. “So you won’t teach me?”

  The question brought Clay to a halt. He looked back at her, seeing a vulnerability and concern that he hadn’t expected. “Why do you ask?”

  She met his eyes and let out a quiet breath. “It’s the one [Chant] I’ve never been able to find, the only one that you found on your own. If you don’t teach it to me, then who will? I’d have to take the chance of running across it in the middle of some Lair, or stealing it from someone who was already using it. I don’t think anyone at the Guild would be falling over themselves to hand it out, either. If I want to learn the Garden’s Peace, you’re my only real chance.”

  He opened his mouth to reassure her… and hesitated. Memories of how it had felt to fight with the Curses of the Lairs stretched in his mind. Clay pictured her facing it the way he had; bleeding, weakened, close to breaking. What if he gave her the [Chant] and she died attempting to use it? Or what if the Council heard he was teaching the spell and decided to take action over it?

  Olivia was still looking at him, waiting for an answer. He stared back at her, his own thoughts too conflicted and uncertain to come to any real conclusion. Clay looked away and felt his jaw tighten. “I… don’t know, Olivia. It’s dangerous.”

  He started walking again, and a moment later, he heard Olivia following him. She spoke in a low voice, a flicker of anger appearing in her words. “More dangerous than fighting monsters? More dangerous than what I’ve already been doing?”

  “Yes.” Clay looked back at her, and his heart ached. She was glaring at him now, her face flush with anger. He couldn’t remember seeing her this mad at him before, even when he’d been risking his life in the Tanglewood.

  “I’m the person who taught you these spells, Clay. I’m the one who found them, who translated them, who gave them to you to share. Now you’re telling me you aren’t going to return the favor?”

  Clay spread his arms to indicate the hills around them. “I am! I’m teaching you everything I know about how to survive out here. I’m helping you hunt these things down and keeping you alive so that you can do all the things you want to do.”

  “Except the one thing I want the most.” Olivia’s green eyes were glittering with rage when he looked back again. Her expression was set in a mask of anger. “I want to destroy this place. The Lair that killed my family. That destroyed my home. I thought you would help me do that, but now I’m hearing that you are too worried about what might happen to take the risk. You don’t trust me enough.”

  The words felt like daggers stabbed straight through his heart. Clay felt his own temper flare to life in response. “I don’t trust you enough? Look at where we are right now! I wouldn’t even be here if I didn’t trust you with my life. It’s not just about the risks, Olivia. If the Council finds out—”

  “Oh, the Council.” Olivia spat the word like it was venom. “Let’s just think about how well their wisdom has served us in everything. You’re going to trust their judgment more than mine?”

  Clay spun around and pointed a finger at her. “The members of the Council have fought Lairs and Dungeons, Olivia. I don’t agree with a lot of their strategies, but they know what it’s like to face a Lair and destroy it. If they are careful about how the [Chant] that can build or destroy something like that gets used, it isn’t because they are fools.”

  Olivia’s next words were almost a snarl. “Oh, so I’m being a fool now. For wanting to avenge the people I lost.”

  He started to snap back at her and then stopped himself. “Look, it doesn’t even matter right now, anyway. You can’t learn it safely until after level five, and even then, it is risky. We can talk about it again after it is even a possibility.”

  She didn’t answer for a long moment. Then she spoke in a low voice. “What level were you when you killed the spider Lair?”

  For half a heartbeat, he debated refusing to answer. “Level six.”

  “All right. Until then.” There was no hint of compromise or mercy in that tone, and Clay resigned himself for a very long rest of the day. At the very least, he hoped that she’d take some of her anger out on the swinefolk. Otherwise, he might need to sleep with one eye open when night came.