Flames scorched skin, icicles speared through flesh, and ghoul claws matched against sanguine fangs.

  Terry’s aura continued to shift, his skin itching as he waited for Liquefy Metal to become active. He tried opening a portal to intercept a flying sanguine, but his aura bucked, the portal fizzling out as he lost his grip on it.

  Note to self, don’t Affix Skills mid-combat…

  For the first time, he wished he’d taken the Talent to halve his Affixing time, because this wait was killing him.

  Even though his aura pricked at him, he gritted his teeth and faced the incoming sanguine. A swarm fell from the ceiling, gliding down toward them with impressive agility. Ben’s icicles sliced through a handful and Juan’s fire splashed against another, but nearly a dozen made it past their ranged attacks.

  Al’Ruzan stood at his shoulder, his knife held loosely. On his other side, ice began to climb up Ben’s skin, encasing him in an armor that shimmered like diamonds. Behind them, he sensed the heat from Juan, felt it warm one side of his face as a liquid ball of fire smashed into another sanguine.

  Those that made it through their attacks swooped in hard, coming straight for the four of them. There was no time to think as two sanguine separated from the pack and angled straight for Terry. He simply put up his guard and braced for impact.

  His D-grade physique was more than enough to take a couple hundred pounds flying in at speed.

  What he couldn’t take were the claws digging through his flesh and the fangs clamped onto his shoulders. He fell back on his training with Whipvine, focusing his efforts on creating space where his longer limbs would work to his advantage.

  Reaching up, he clamped a hand around a sanguine’s neck and began to squeeze. It held on tenaciously for another few moments, then loosened its jaw enough for Terry to rip it away.

  He gasped in pain as its claws took flesh with it and he threw it to the ground in a mix of desperation and anger.

  His boot stomped on its head even as he reached up to the second one digging into his back. The angle was awkward and he fought through the pain in his side to lift his arm back toward the sanguine.

  But no matter how he reached, he couldn’t get the leverage to tear the vampire away. He fought down the panic and reached for his aura. It was still shifting, but he tried to stir it anyway.

  A sharp pain stabbed between his eyes from the effort but desperation gripped him. He pushed his aura, searching for any Skill that would respond.

  His portals took very little energy, but the finesse required was beyond him right now. He reached for his Metal Telekinesis in an attempt to separate his bracelet and send silver ball bearings at the sanguine. He felt the bracelet shift, then go slack as he lost the Skill.

  Hot liquid drenched his back though the pain seemed to be distant. The weight of the sanguine told him it was still there, ripping into his flesh, but the white-hot pain had numbed to a bare pinprick.

  He knew he was losing too much blood, had to get this thing off him now.

  Fighting through the fog on his mind, he reached back and smashed his wrist against the sanguine in a desperate attempt to touch it with his silver bracelet.

  A painfully loud shriek sounded right in his ear and the weight left his back.

  He slumped to a knee, looking over to see the sanguine—red blood dripping down its face—crawling away with a hateful look in its eyes.

  His aura settled, his new Skill shifting into place. With a grunt, he forced himself to his feet and activated his abilities.

  The silver ball bearings melted, straightening into two dozen needles that formed a net around him. With a flick of his aura, five of the needles shot forward, piercing the retreating sanguine through the face.

  Its shriek only lasted half a breath before the silver killed it.

  He turned to survey the battle and stumbled, a wave of dizziness taking him. Two hands wrapped around him, steadying him as he nearly fell. He turned, struggling to focus his eyes as he looked to see who had helped him.

  Ben looked down at him, diamond armor encasing everything except his face.

  They exchanged no words, Terry simply nodding once he’d caught his balance. Over Ben’s shoulder, he saw movement and acted on instinct.

  A dozen silver needles intercepted the flying sanguine, shredding its flesh wherever it touched.

  Ben whirled around to see the corpse smash into the ground, rolling to a stop before him. When he turned back, there was confusion in his eyes, his mouth opening to speak.

  Before he could, more sanguine dove from the ceiling to attack. Terry flared his aura and sent his wave of needles toward them. A chorus of shrieks filled the air as the entire group crashed to the ground.

  A moment later, a pulse of aura echoed out, filling the entire cavern. Terry felt there was some message in that pulse, rather than an ability, but he could barely stand, let alone grasp the nuance of the aura.

  But the meaning was clear enough when the hundreds of swarming sanguine peeled back like flies shooed from a corpse. They crawled or flew back toward the tunnels, a full retreat that saw the cave empty of sanguine in seconds.

  Terry cast a quick glance around, taking stock of the aftermath.

  Al’Ruzan stood tall, half a dozen dead or dying sanguine in a semicircle around his feet, his blood dripping from just as many wounds. Juan had a gash across his forehead that dripped blood into his eyes, but was otherwise unharmed. Across the cavern, Crimson Spear walked amongst his people with no sign of injury, though Terry noted a half dozen ghouls that lay still.

  He turned to find Ben, only to see him standing right in front of him, his eyes narrowed.

  “How’d you do that?” the man asked.

  Terry’s head was spinning and it took him a moment to process the words.

  “Do what?” His words sounded slurred to his ears. He licked his lips, tasted blood.

  “You’re supposed to be a Traveler. How’d you—”

  Terry’s world suddenly tilted, his legs going weak as he collapsed to the floor. He felt hands catch his head before it could crack against the stone.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  When he looked up, Ben was staring down at him with concern.

  Aw, he does care, Terry thought before everything went black.

  Sounds filtered in, distant and incomprehensible. Something touched his skin, soothing the heat that burned there.

  He tried to shift his thoughts into order but found them sluggish. The sounds moved in a pattern he distantly recognized but couldn’t place.

  Rather than force it, he just lay there, letting the sensations wash over him, relishing in the alien sounds and the soft touches.

  But then a familiar word pierced through the fog over his mind and he was suddenly alert.

  Lakarot. Had he imagined it?

  He tried to open his eyes but they felt so heavy. Pushing through, he managed to peel back his eyelids, only to find himself staring into darkness. A soft green light dimly lit the ceiling he was looking at, but not enough to count.

  Lifting his head to gain any vantage seemed impossible, so he ranged out with his aura instead. After the frustration of trying to use it during an Affixation, he was relieved to feel it free flowing and responsive. It filled the room, giving him impressions that formed a dim image.

  Two people, their auras dense, stood apart from him in the direction of his feet. Beside him, he felt another aura, much dimmer, barely even registering to his senses. He began to wonder at that presence, when he felt a fourth person near his head.

  He looked up to see a hooded lich leaning over him, a type of brush in his skeletal hand. He was too tired to flinch at the surprise.

  “Welcome back, young one,” the lich said. “We thought your spirit might have fled.”

  He tried to speak, but hissed as the movement pulled at something painful on his neck.

  “Sit back, kid.” Ben came into view near his feet. “The muscles in your neck are still healing. Sanguine ripped into you good.”

  “Wha—” He coughed, clearing the muck from his throat. “What happened?”

  Crimson Spear joined Ben, his eyes seeming to pierce into Terry.

  “We wondered the same thing,” Ben said, sticking to English despite the ghoul’s presence. “Never seen a raid that large in the years I’ve been here.”

  Crimson Spear’s aura shot forward in a questioning shape.

  “How did you come to possess the Lakarot?”

  That word again!

  Terry furrowed his brow, tried to shake his head but winced at the pain.

  “Don’t know what that—” He cut off as he noticed the Singularity cube on Ben’s belt. His eyes widened. “Is the Singularity the Lakarot?”

  Ben nodded slowly.

  “That’s right, kid. Meant to have this talk with you later but the sanguine forced the issue.”

  “What do you mean, forced the issue?”

  Ben shared a glance with Crimson Spear, visibly hesitating.

  “The Dukes must’ve sensed its presence. Only explanation for a raid that large.”

  Terry sent his aura out to double check, but there was no signature leaking from the cube.

  “How? Not getting anything from it.”

  Ben rubbed at the back of his neck, a rare show of embarrassment on his face.

  “I opened it after I first took you from the surface. Closed it back up soon as I recognized it…but must’ve been enough for the suckers to pick up on the signature.”

  Shit. The implications of that made his hair stand up on his arms. That was just the first attack. There would be more.

  “What is the Lakarot?” Terry asked. “I mean, I know what it is, but why is it important to the sanguine? Why do I have a—” He cut off as a System warning crossed his vision.

  Ben ignored his interrupted thought, chewing his lip with obvious hesitation.

  Terry studied the man, waiting for an explanation, when the lich’s brush grazed against his neck. He flinched away, sparking a new wave of pain, and flicked his eyes over to the lich.

  It was only then that he realized they were in the Bloodsplatter’s small Evolution Chamber. And he was laying right beside the pool they had been feeding dire wolf parts into.

  An irrational fear sparked inside of him that they had been about to feed him to their new spawnling, when he noticed what the lich was actually doing with the brush.

  The lich held the brush out for him to see and slowly dipped it into the black tar pool. It scraped the excess off delicately, coating the brush in a thin layer before bringing it toward Terry’s neck.

  “The blood of the mother heals,” the lich explained. “Crimson Spear ordered that you be blessed, as you bled in defense of the clan.”

  Terry looked toward Crimson Spear in question but the ghoul’s face was impassive. Judging by how little of the black liquid they possessed, Terry got the impression that this was quite a boon.

  “Thank you, Crimson Spear,” Terry said.

  The ghoul inclined his head slightly.

  “There are many who are beyond the healing touch of the blood. But it was deemed you could be saved, so as a favor to you and your master—” He waved toward Ben. “—I agreed to spare some for your wounds.”

  Terry cast a surprised look toward Ben, who simply pressed his lips tight.

  No one said anything as the lich did one more pass with his brush. The sensation tickled at his skin.

  “Done, young one. Rise slowly and let’s hope there are no more sanguine raids while you heal.”

  Terry raised his eyebrows in surprise. Just moments ago, moving his head had sparked a wave of agony in his neck. He shifted his shoulders experimentally and though tight, the pain wasn’t crippling.

  Slowly, he rolled onto his side, putting his hands and knees beneath him. Tight skin pulled along his back and neck, uncomfortable but not the telltale ripping of a fresh wound. Rising to his feet, he swayed slightly before catching his balance.

  Once he was steady, he bowed his head toward the lich and shaped his aura gratefully.

  “Thank you for saving me.”

  The lich inclined his head back.

  “Come on,” Ben said suddenly. “Your friends are worried sick and frankly annoying the crap out of me.” He turned for the tunnel, glancing over his shoulder. “The big one wants to fight again, I think.”

  Terry rolled his eyes, taking a halting step forward. When he didn’t immediately feel a wave of dizziness, he took another.

  “That’s Al’Ruzan. He’s still salty about you beating him up and taking his food for…” Terry realized just how long their little arrangement must have been going on. “Well, I guess you’ve been shaking him down for years now.”

  Ben grunted, not turning back. “It went to a better cause.”

  Terry spared a glance for the small pool where he sensed that burgeoning aura.

  I suppose the survival of an entire ghoul clan is more important. Not sure Big Al will agree though.

  He followed Ben and Crimson Spear through the short tunnel where the double doors were closed tight. The two of them pushed the doors open, diffused light streaming through the opening, making Terry squint as his eyes acclimated.

  Past the threshold, his team waited impatiently.

  Al’Ruzan clutched his dagger, his eyes darting between Ben and Crimson Spear in open assessment. Juan delicately cupped fire in his palm as if it would snuff out at the slightest breeze. Chippy and Py were standing together, clearly engaged in a private chat conversation—for which Terry was pleased to see Al’Ruzan had eased up on reprimanding them. And standing by Juan with her eyes closed was Mara-Lin-Jaid.

  As soon as the doors thumped open, Py, Chippy, and Juan let out little cheers at Terry’s presence. Mara-Lin-Jaid’s eyes snapped open, icy and detached. Flecks of magic danced across her irises.

  But Al’Ruzan was the first to step forward, his shoulders back, though he sheathed his dagger. Terry waited for the giant to say something—or maybe even take a swing at Ben—but instead, he just stood there silently.

  Terry raised his eyebrows expectantly, but Al’Ruzan looked toward Ben instead.

  That was when he realized the two of them must have been having a private conversation.

  Crimson Spear strode past the group without so much as a glance, Py and Chippy flinching away from the giant ghoul instinctively.

  Juan, seeing there wouldn’t be a fight, came over with a big smile.

  “Hey, Juan,” Terry said, matching the man’s smile. “What’d I miss?”

  Juan shook his head, his eyes flicking to Ben and Al’Ruzan over Terry’s shoulder.

  “It was crazy, bro. Big Al was in a deathmatch with those things. That guy, whatever his name is, was throwing icicles and beating vampires to death with ice block hands.” He puffed his chest out dramatically. “And yours truly burned no less than seven of those things.”

  Terry nodded appreciatively. “Wow, nice job.” He shook his head with a snort. “Guess I was the weak link.”

  Juan shrugged. “I don’t know, bro. Soon as you started stabbing them with your little needles, they seemed to split pretty soon after. Oh, that reminds me.” He reached into his pocket, then flinched, pulling his hand back suddenly. “Ow, mierda.” He sucked on his finger for a moment before reaching back in more delicately. After a moment, he pulled free a dozen thin needles. “Grabbed your sewing kit,” he said with a wry smile.

  Terry laughed, flexing his aura. He reveled in the ease with which it responded, the needles liquefying in Juan’s hand in an instant. The man yelped in surprise, snatching his hand back, though Terry knew he hadn’t pricked him.

  Molding the silver back into the shape of his bracelet, he activated Metal Telekinesis and slipped it over his wrist magically.

  A voice spoke from behind him.

  “I think it’s about time you explained how you’re able to do that.”

  Terry turned to see Ben regarding him with a guarded expression. He bit his lip in thought before responding.

  “I’m happy to do that.” He stepped toward the man, holding his gaze. “And you can tell me everything you know about this…Lakarot.”

  Book Three is on its way over at the Patreon!