Page 189 of Red Ruin
In reality, Kevan only allowed us to interact during emergencies.
The Deathguard hasa lot ofemergencies.
I’d save a Sentinel’s life on a Tuesday, and by Wednesday I didn’t exist again.
I never expected a thank you.
I stopped expecting human decency the first time I saidgood morningto a Sentinel I pulled out of rampage, and the guy kept walking like I was empty air.
If the Deathguard doesn’t want to acknowledge me now, it’s their loss.
With a quick touch, I re-establish my mental imprint on the Farguard’s badge.
“Squad captains to me. I’ll bring you up to speed.” Earlier, while I scarfed down a ham breakfast sandwich, I finally spent a minute playing with the functions of my badge.
With a little mental energy, it can project simple maps.
Using a thread of power and plenty of focus, I call up the most recent image of the Farguard’s mountainous territory. Then I tilt the picture until the sparkling lines hit a baked patch of dirt.
Cherise and her teams bled through the night to track the growing horde’s movements.
A tall Sentinel with striking green eyes dashes forward. “Do we call you Major Ashbourne?”
“Commander is fine,” I answer cautiously.
Captain Tiago Reyes is an A-class, wood-attribute Sentinel. We were on a desert-clearing mission when a leatherback-scorpion’s sting triggered his rampage. I detoxified him, calmed his energy, and dragged his seven-foot ass to an oasis.
He hasn’t made eye contact since.
Now his brilliant grin is as shocking as the welcoming warmth of his spring green magic. “Commander fits you better than duchess.”
“No one ever called me duchess.” Until Vhex.
I have zero interest in reconnecting with Sentinels who looked away while I suffered.
I slide away from Tiago’s reaching silks, and re-angle the map projection as the Deathguard’s leaders huddle.
Kevan’s Guide stays behind. He bites his nails, watching the shadow dome rattle and shooting me toxic glares.
I snort.
You wanted to be the duchess.
Go save the day yourself.
I use a beefy Sentinel to block him from my line of sight, then point everyone’s attention to the map. “The prison array was originally in a cave, but as the seal collapses, the ground collapses with it. Now, our lich is somewhere at the bottom of a pit with sheer walls. Its horde surrounded the ground entrance, so the survey team couldn’t get close enough for an official power reading. We won’t know for sure until we find a way down there, but with these numbers of mid-tier undead under its control, we can assume the lich king is above S-class. We’re looking SS and Apocalypse territory.”
Each dot on the map represents a thousand enemies. They surround the mountains like ants.
The odds tighten my throat.
Even with the Deathguard’s help, we’re staggeringly outnumbered.
“Damn.” Tiago uses his fingers to count the forces. “Are these all kobolds?”
“Mostly kobolds and giant boar skeletons, but expect surprises. The deep mountains have been a battlefield for centuries.”
As Tiago and the officers ask more detailed follow-up questions, I zone into my role.
