Shadowcroft Academy Year 2 - Chapter Twenty-Nine

Logan was flying high on cloud nine. He’d started the year off struggling but ever since his trip to the Sacred Hollow, things had been running like a well-oiled machine. He had to wait until all of his friends had passed their mid-terms, before they could really celebrate the sacking of Vralkag.

Friday night, they all went to Enrico’s, which made sense, since of course they’d want to party in Vralkag after they’d destroyed various parts of it. They sat at Marko’s special table, and each of them took turns recounting their efforts.

Tet decided to join their group, which didn’t make Chadrigoth very happy. He was sitting at his table with the rest of the First Cohort, scowling at Logan and his friends while he angrily nursed a Dragonbane Stout.

Strangely, Melvin was sitting with the First Cohort. It was amazing that Chadrigoth would tolerate the awkward kitchen ghast, but Tet said that the abyss lord liked how much praise Melvin laid at the feet of the holy First Cohort and their awesomeness. Melvin was currently eating a big pile of fried shrimp-like crustaceans. From Enrico’s yelling, it seemed Melvin had offered the four-armed innkeeper some help with his food, and the innkeeper was having none of that.

At first Tet kept glancing over at Chadrigoth, Melvin,, and the First Cohort. It was like she felt obligated to sit with them, but then the feline sandmaster relaxed as Inga told them about her mid-term.

For Inga, it had been easy. In her Metamorphosis form—a giant heavy metal caterpillar—she took out the Game of Bones Inn like an angry Kaiju rampaging through Hong Kong. That drew the dungeoneers to her while her golden centipedes, tsuki ants, and spike flies hit the Unlikely Unicorn. She’d enlisted her floor-boss, Roy-Boy the Golden Centipede Spartan, to help her sack both the dungeoneers and the inns. At the same time, she’d dispatched her newly unlocked Lunar Horrors to take out the guildhall. Inga had customized her Lunar Horrors into three fuzzy, flying mini-tanks that took out a few dungeoneers, including Arfgar of the Hill People.

That paved the way for Inga and the rest of her insect army to come scuttling up to the guildhall to tear it down to the foundation.

Treacle had opted for a different tact. He set traps around the guildhall, a variety of electrical pressure plates and explosive trip wires. He then invaded the guildhall with his crossbow horned mechanical bull and a whole battalion of steampunk creatures along with his fleshier minions, the Ugknot Calflings. Once they secured the guildhall, they waited for the dungeoneers to come and flush him out. The traps outside eliminated the majority of the raiders with grisly efficiency, and Treacle took care of the others who were laying siege to the guildhall. Treacle had been smart. He’d put up a big show of force at first, but then retreated into the cellar with only a skeleton crew left to guard the hall itself.

Treacle then used his boon from the Sacred Hollow trip—his AFS core was able to power a digging machine that tunneled them under the city. The Augmented Fulgur Stone really got the auger spinning. Once he and his more important minions were out, he used a larger version of Sphere of Striking to demolish the building, bring it down on the dungeoneers inside. One last alchemic bomb set the place a blaze with an unquenchable Uloxium fire. Then it was simple matter of taking out the inns. He emerged from underground right in front of the Unlikely Unicorn to kill off the spattering of low-level defenders. Treacle demolished the place with a few well-placed explosive charges.

Marko stood up and lifted a flagon of mead—he wasn’t partaking in Enrico’s latest flavor of Liverkill, lemonade bacon grease. “Treac, I have to say, that was a brilliant strategy. Turning the guildhall into a fortress and then totally mole manning it under the streets. Awesome. But I think I have you beat. I basically scared everyone out of Vralkag. Me and Steve did and the Jeff Luden lute.”

Steven turned his featureless plastic face to them, squeaking eerily.

Marko nodded and patted the lute in his pocket. “You can say that again, Steve. Me and this little baby really put the fear of the Old Ones into them. And my sound class really helped. I started out slow—really slow, which is the best way to build ambiance. Just a few distant screams carried by the wind. I sprinkled in some muffled pleas for help, then overlaid that with the lute’s haunting music, really putting them edge. Once everyone was awake and fully creeped out, I added in scampering footsteps, the giggle of ghostly children—even live children are terrifying, amiright or amiright?—then boom, minor-key lullabies.

“ I then conjured a little swirling mist to cover my movements, and started placing the mannequins in various places in the city. My plaster-faced buddies never moved, right? They were just suddenly…there. I knew I only had three hours. Dang, I wish I had, you know, weeks to do this, but the artist must work within the confines of the medium. To speed things along, I set up carnivorous murals throughout the town. Eerie paintings of blank faced demons breaking fourth from the bowels of hell to devour Vralkag. Some of my best work to date, honestly. Sort of playing up that whole, ‘Hell hath come for thy children, wicked people of Vralkag’ angle.

“Anyone who came out to investigate the sounds got snatched up by the paintings. Admittedly, a lot more civilian casualties than I expected. Turns out people in haunted villages do strangely idiotic things. This poor woman heard giggling children, then left behind the protection of her house to investigate a darkened barn filled with flesh-eating monsters. The whole time I was internally screaming at her—like, why would you do that? Don’t go in there! That’s where the bad sounds are coming from. But she just walked right into it. The whole town was like that honestly.”

“That is horrible,” Logan said.

“Right?” Marko shot back. “I mean if they didn’t have that little self-preservation instinct, they probably had it coming. I really am being too hard on myself.”

“That’s not what I meant—” Logan started to say.

“No, I get it. I did what I had to do. Trust me, I won’t be losing any sleep. Especially not after a few more flagons of ale. But at any rate, eventually the dungeoneers started mobilizing. I used my Ventriloquist ability to mimic the voices of the missing townspeople and lure the adventurers into dark alleys. Then Steve and my other mannequins shellacked them. It was like the horror stories in Sangretta, about the house that eats the wedding party, one drunk guy at a time. Though, I certainly I did my part with my trio of magical throwing daggers and a sword or two. I can fight, you know.”

He raised his fists and blinked his goat eyes. “But not much. I turned the fountain in front of the mayor’s house into a mimic and that started eating people as well. But the best was how my Luden lute enhances my Shadow Betrayal. It was night, so, lots of shadows, as you can imagine. All I can say, there were some huge tentacles that came out of the darkness and those creepy tentacles were merciless. By the time I was done, the town was empty, the dungeoneers freaked out and ran, and then I just burned the inns and guildhall down. It was bloody and awesome. I went with that old warfare saying, ‘Women and children first.’”

Inga turned pale. “That’s not for warfare, Marko. That’s the people you save first. Women and children.”

Marko put a hand in front of his face. “Oops.”

Inga excused herself and went for the door.

Logan knew something was wrong, had been all night. He slid out of the booth. He heard some hisses and insults from Chadrigoth and his cronies, but Logan ignored them. He hoped there wouldn’t be another fight. Scratch that. He hoped Chadrigoth did start something. Logan would grow Eyelash Stinkhorn in the abyss lord’s nostrils.

Logan left the bar and found Inga perusing the silverware stall in the market—the shops were open late on the weekends because selling to slightly inebriated college students was a lucrative business.

Inga didn’t turn to him when he walked up to her. She had both her wings and her antennae pulled in tight.

Logan itched his mushroom head. “Uh, Marko’s mid-term was just a simulation, right? He wouldn’t hurt anyone. Is that why you’re upset tonight?”

Inga flashed him a surprised gaze. “No, Marko is very sensitive. He only pretends to be a bloodthirsty horror muse. He was quite clever really. He’s grown a lot since last year—learned to lean into his strengths.” She paused and dropped her head. “And, for the record, I am not upset. Just thinking.”

She didn’t say anything for a long time. To Logan, that meant she was upset. He thought he knew why, but he wasn’t about to bring up the subject.

Finally, she relented and turned her gaze on him. “You know, Logan, it’s fine if things are going well with Tet. I know she appreciates your help. Besides, you’re so much more powerful than you were when you first started. You’ve even surpassed me.” She fingered some Eritrean strawberry sweet cream spoons, which were different from summer strawberry spoons.

Logan tried to fix things. “Inga, listen, I—”

The mothmancer cut him off. “At first, I thought you and I had a grand destiny together. That, however, has changed.” She drew herself up straight, letting her wings settled regally around her like a cloak. “If you want to partner with Tet on a more permanent basis, I would understand. You and she will be able to create a dungeon for the ages—a place of feline death and mushrooms. I don’t want to hold you back, and I certainly don’t need you. I can run my own dungeon, thank you very much.”

Logan tried to get a word in. “Inga, it’s not—”

She bulldozed over him. “And I’m thinking that Melvin might be the better option, if he’s not in fact a murdering psychopath. He does know his cutlery. Which makes me think I should drop my elective. Yes, it will be a blow to my perfect record, but I am realizing that the Eritrean obsession with tableware and dining frivolity might be covering up a cultural abyss.” She backed away from the silverware kiosk. “And so, my friend, this is the end of us. We shall remain friends, always, I hope, but you and I both know that our Symbiotic relationship is over.”

She went to turn. Logan had to do something drastic. Making his body lighter than air, he used his Pneumacity ability to leap over her. He came floating down in front of her. Then he rapid grew Ghoul’s Snareuntil Inga was entangled in tendrils of curling purple black fungi. He didn’t apply the acid damage. “Inga!”

“Whatever are you doing?” she asked, mouth open in shock.

“You’re not listening to me,” he said a bit too loudly. “And yeah, that silverware class is destroying your mind—that’s pretty clear. We don’t know how Melvin does so well, but that is probably not a vote of confidence in his sanity.”

“But his mind is very keen, and his pastries are very good.”

“We’re not talking about Melvin.” Logan sighed, getting a bit exasperated. “I like Tet, sure, but come on, Inga, you’re my ride or die.”

She struggled to get away, but his Ghoul’s Snare held her tight. “That sounds very much like one of your culturally specific references,” she said after a beat. “I don’t know what it means.”

“Ride or die means that you and I are together until the end. Sure, Tet’s powerful, but her dungeon is all sand, mummies, and dryness. I need some murky place with lots of insects and moonlight. Also, Lunar Horrors? We’ve got to play around with them more.” Logan had gotten her attention, so he turned his fungi back into raw Apothos and absorbed the energy into his gem core.

Inga grimaced. “I still don’t understand the concept of ride or die. What are we riding? Why are we dying?”

“It’s just a saying on Earth.” Logan didn’t want to get lost in weeds. “Inga, when no one else had my back, you did. You trusted me and believed in me even when the rest of the world had given up on me. I only managed to get to this point because of you. That? That’s ride or die. Listen, I can’t say what the future holds, but I know that myfuture has you in it. If we survive this crazy school, you and I are going to build the ultimate dungeon, and we’re going to find the biggest, most power celestial node ever, and we’re going to protect it forever.”

Inga’s antennae came unraveled. “Plans change, Logan,” Inga said, her antenna quivering in doubt. “I can attest to that myself. And forever has a way of changing right before our eyes. How can you be so certain?”

“Because I don’t leave my friends behind. Period. There aren’t many people that will have your back when the stakes are genuinely life and death. When you do find them, you don’t ever let them go. You, Marko, Treacle? I know you would die for me. For each other. That kind of friendship and loyalty is worth far more than raw power. Do you understand that?”

She nodded and swiped at her nose. “It’s just that when you didn’t severe your connection with Tet immediately… Well, I thought you might have had second thoughts.”

Logan shrugged. “Nope. Just didn’t want to get in the way of your mid-term. I figured we’d do it once all this stuff worked itself out. We can go back inside and do it right away. Tet is feeling better about the rankings she lost. She sees a way forward, and that’s the important thing.”

“Tet is very powerful,” Inga said.

An unwelcome voice intruded. “Yea, she is. Which is why I don’t understand why she’s hanging out with you losers.”

Chadrigoth had wandered into the marketplace alone. He stood there with his arms folded across his massive chest. A wave of heat emanated from his demonic form. He wasn’t throwing punches or summoning the hordes of hell just yet, but Logan figured the abyss lord had come for another fight and the fungaloid was more than ready to give it to him.