Two days later, just after sunset, Calvin crept around the outskirts of the city. Pelias and Edwin trailed close behind. Pelias had found rumors of people disappearing in this area, and the details all but promised the Hark’akuy were responsible. Sure enough, they quickly found the Hark’akuy’s distinctive calling card. A once-smooth patch of dirt had been transformed to look like a writhing mass of earthen snakes. Most of the snakes were frozen in the act of slithering around each other, but there were two points near the center where the snakes curled into the air as if wrapping around something. The structure had fractured here, leaving broken pieces of dirt snakes lying on top of the rest of the relief. There was no question: this was the work of Hark’akuy. They’d enchanted the dirt to capture some villager, then broke the victim out of the structure to take them away for sacrifice.

  Calvin grinned. “We’re on track. Pelias, can you tell where they went from here?” The pattern of broken snake pieces made it a simple matter for Pelias to find the trail.

  “Three cultists,” he said, crouching over the subtle marks on the ground. “They constricted the victim and dragged him westward.”

  “Any Binders?” Calvin asked.

  Pelias shrugged. “Not that I can tell.”

  Calvin nodded slowly, then gestured for Pelias to lead them along the trail. It led them to a farmhouse about half a mile away. The darkness of night had nearly settled by the time they reached it. The house’s windows were dark. A gate hung open, and a goat munched on a bush across the road from it. It spooked when they approached and bolted down the road.

  “More trails converge here,” Pelias whispered. “This must be their waystation.”

  Edwin nodded. “They probably gather a good number of captives here before heading back to their temple.” He wore a cloak to conceal his serpentine features, but his red eyes still glowed softly in the darkness.

  “Let’s see if anybody’s home,” Calvin said.

  He crept up to the house without making a sound. He put his ear to the wall in several places, trying to detect speech or movement from inside. He got nothing from the house itself but thought he heard grunts behind the cellar door. It was padlocked, but Calvin made short work of the lock and pulled the door open. Moonlight spilled into the cellar and lit up two farmers, tied to chairs and gagged. They looked up at Calvin and grunted pleadingly. Part of him wanted to pull them out, but his stomach twisted, insisting he focus on the task at hand. Saving them would jeopardize the mission, signaling to the Hark’akuy that they needed a new way station. He closed the cellar door and returned to his crew.

  “This is the place. They have two prisoners. No one inside.”

  “They must be out searching for more,” Edwin said. “Two is pathetic.”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Calvin nodded and detailed his plan.

  They lay in hiding near the farmhouse, waiting for the cultists to return with more captives. The night wore long, and the cold bit into their skin. Calvin’s stomach wriggled in discomfort, but he stayed put, knowing it would only get worse if he abandoned the plan.

  Their waiting was rewarded around midnight. Two groups approached, each composed of three cultists dragging a paralyzed captive. One was significantly behind the other. Calvin pointed to the further group. They let the first group pass unchallenged. Once that group had gone inside the farmhouse, Calvin’s crew went into action, sneaking silently toward the second group. They launched their attack, each of them stabbing at a different cultist. The captive fell like a stone to the ground as the cultists made to defend themselves. An arrow thunked into one of them from behind. Another arrow followed the first, felling him. A crazed war cry broke the night as a wild man with a huge axe appeared and cleaved another cultist in two.

  Alarmed, Calvin grabbed the remaining cultist and held his dagger to his neck. “It’s over,” he said in his firmest voice. “No more.” The cultist breathed erratically against him, but he was smart enough to realize he couldn’t fight his way out of this.

  The wild man stumbled to a stop, confused.

  “What do you mean, no more?” a gallant voice demanded. A knight in full plate approached, gesturing indignantly with his sword. “We know there are three more of these infernal cultists. I suppose you want us to think you’re not them?”

  An archer came up behind the knight. She lowered her nocked bow. “These are different guys, Julius. Though that one is suspicious.” She narrowed her eyes at Edwin.

  He raised his hands. “No, no, I’m not a cultist. Not anymore. I escaped my cult. Besides, it was a different one.”

  “Right,” she said, not entirely convinced. “And you saved this one, why?”

  Calvin gripped his captive tighter. “We need information from him.”

  “I’ll never talk,” the cultist said.

  “Yes, you will.”

  The knight’s eyes lit up. “Oho, are you the ones trying to topple their cult from the top? I saw your notice. You want him to tell you where their base is?” He lowered his sword at the cultist and glared. “Tell us where it is, or I’ll run you through!”

  The cultist spat right in the knight’s face. The knight moved to wipe it off, disgusted, but his hand froze halfway there as the venom paralyzed him, and he toppled over.

  The archer sighed. “Nice one, Julius.” The knight grunted indignantly.

  The wild man drove his axe into the ground, frustrated. “That altercation was much too short. It’s not fair. I’d expected to swing more than once.” Calvin was impressed by his articulate speech. He was absurdly tall and muscular. Calvin guessed he had some orc blood in him, and he’d expected the guy to speak in only monosyllables.

  “There was another attack tonight,” the archer said. “There should be another team. Do you three have any idea where they might have gone?”

  Doing some quick calculations, Calvin pointed in the direction of the farmhouse. “We saw some drag marks going that way, but then we saw these guys and went for them instead.” Pelias and Edwin nodded in agreement.

  “We’ll go that way, then.” She pulled out a cloth and wiped the spittle from the knight’s face. Then she waved her hand over him. He glowed briefly, then pulled himself to his feet.

  He was distinctly embarrassed. “I’d nearly shaken it off.”

  “Right.”