“We’ve finally done it!” Andra announced to her allies gathered in the Guild’s common room. “We’ve hit the big time! We’re doing a job for the crown!”

“Yay, supporting the corrupt dictatorship that oppresses us,” Riven replied sarcastically as she leaned on the table.

“What’s the job, boss?” asked Fiona. She was sitting upright, looking excited.

“A necromancer is raising an army of zombies. Our job is to kill him.”

Andra beamed. It was finally happening. Andra had known this moment was close ever since she had brought the news from the Demon Lands to the castle. True, it had meant several hours of interrogation and for some reason a night in a jail cell, but she had gotten to speak with the king’s generals. Of course, the generals had seemed rather annoyed at the news and more than a little doubtful about its accuracy. In fact, the eldest general had almost sounded like he was expecting to disprove Andra’s report when he had tiredly suggested that spies be sent to investigate the Demon King’s activities. However, the fact that they were now receiving a job protecting the kingdom from an internal threat was proof that Lady von Ekko’s Glorious Adventurer Brigade had earned the notice of the crown.

“Pass,” said Riven.

Andra was taken aback. “What do you mean ‘pass’? You can’t pass.”

“I can absolutely pass,” Riven replied. “Zombies are gross and I don’t want to deal with them.”

“Oh, what, you don’t want the necromancer to turn you into a zombie?” Andra asked.

“What? That doesn’t even make sense. If I were a zombie I’d be dead. My spirit would be gone and my body would just be a reanimated corpse.”

“Yeah, I’m going to pass too,” Kaylen said.

Andra gaped. Kaylen was turning down the job, too? “Wait, shouldn’t you be all gung-ho about getting to be a hero and save people from a zombie army?”

“I mean, I guess, but let’s be honest,” Kaylen explained, “the only reason this job is falling to us is that everyone else in the Guild turned it down. No one wants to deal with zombies.”

“Plus,” Fiona added, “the army can handle a big-headed necromancer and his zombie forces. They’re only outsourcing to the Guild because they don’t want to deal with it, either.”

“Seriously, Fiona? You too?”

Fiona flinched, her ears lowering. “S-sorry, boss. I mean, if this job is really important to you, I’m sure we can do it.”

“Don’t let her walk all over you,” Kaylen snapped. “Do you have any idea how often fighters get sick fighting zombies?”

“That’s not covered by work comp, either,” Riven added.

Losing her patience, Andra slammed her fist on the table. “Listen, you idiots. I started this team. I figured out how to get you worthless children to actually work together. I got us through our first few jobs and actually starting making a name for ourselves. I’m the one who’s in charge and I get to say whether or not we take a job. We are doing this.”

The other three stared at Andra in silence for a moment, stunned by her outburst.

Finally, Kaylen turned to Riven. “So I finished that book you lent me.”

Riven grinned, sitting up. “Oh yeah? What did you think?”

Kaylen touched a finger to her cheek as she struggled to find the words. “It was confusing. I thought it was supposed to be erotica, but there wasn’t any sex at all. It was just a hundred and fifty pages of the alien queen using her hypno ray to make the captain do and believe embarrassing things.”

Riven bounced excitedly in her chair. “I know, isn’t it wonderful? Sex scenes always clutter up erotica and they’re always such a boring slog. I usually just end up skimming them. But that book gets straight to the good stuff.”

Kaylen sighed in resignation. “The good stuff being the mind control.”

“I’m not sure what else you expected,” said Fiona.

“What was your favorite part?” Riven asked, still energetic. “Mine was when Xandris made Melanie think that her name was Pet. And then Melanie’s wandering around the queen’s Pleasure Palace and all the queen’s servants are calling her Captain Atmos and she keeps correcting them and insisting that her name is Pet.”

She sighed contentedly.

Andra was about to launch into another tirade when she heard a throat clearing behind her. She turned to see another group of adventurers. Bessen, Andra’s old teammate, was among them, still huge and with her battleaxe strapped to her back. In front of her was a short person dressed head-to-toe in a long black coat, hood, leather gloves and, strangest of all, a plague doctor’s mask. They held a doctor’s bags that clanked with the sound of glass. Next to them was a dashing woman with a long brown coat and a wide-brimmed hat that didn’t quite hide the way half of her head was shaved. She had a rapier sheathed at one hip and a crossbow hanging from the other. Her pointed ears marked her as an elf. Andra recognized her as Nightingale Ross, a spellsword. Finally, there was Atworth Warren, a tall, slender, androgynous person wearing a dark green cloak and standing next to, of all things, a tiger.

“Are you the other team hired for the necromancer job?” the person in the mask asked.

Andra cocked her head. “Other team?”

“Yeah. Marian said the castle requested two teams, and that the other team was gathering in the common room.”

Andra thought back to her conversation with Marian. Had she mentioned anything about a second team? All Andra could recall was that they were fighting a necromancer who was creating zombies, and the time the party was supposed to catch their train. True, there had been a bunch of other stuff, and Marian had still been talking when Andra had walked away, but it hadn’t seemed important so Andra hadn’t paid attention. 

Riven leaned to the side to get a better look. “Is that you under there, Maxim? When did you join the Guild?”

“Oh great,” said Maxim, his tone dripping with disgust. “I didn’t know we’d be working with two thieves.”

“Look, it’s okay,” said Andra. “We’ve got this. We really don’t need any help.”

“Uh, no, that’s not how it works,” said Atworth. “We accepted the job, so we’re doing it. You don’t get a say in whether we’re involved or not.”

Andra scoffed. “Please, what use would you even be? I know from experience how lazy Bessen is. And what’s Atworth’s job, anyway? To tell the tiger to attack the zombies? Really impressive. Though not nearly as impressive as someone dense enough to think his ability to mix two things together will be useful as an adventurer.”

Maxim scoffed back. “You think alchemy is useless? What are you going to do, pick the zombies’ pockets? That’ll be about as helpful as Riven when she runs out of magical energy thirty seconds into the fight.”

Riven stood and stepped around the table to confront Maxim. “And what’s going to happen to you when you bump that bag into a tree or something? You’ll go up like a fireworks display.”

“At least Riven will actually use her magic,” Atworth said. “I’ve worked with Kaylen before. She’ll charge right into a group of zombies and be the first one to get torn apart.”

“Hey, someone has to take action,” Kaylen snapped as she rounded the table to join her companions. “You want to talk it over with every monster you come across.”

“Wanting to avoid violence is not a fault,” Atworth shouted. Their tiger growled in agreement.

Meanwhile, Fiona had left her chair as well and was now hugging Bessen. “I’m so excited that we finally get to work together.”

“Me too. I can’t wait to see if you’re as impressive on the field as you are in the training yard,” Bessen agreed.

“Fiona, you’re messing up our trash talk,” Andra said in a stage whisper.

“Sorry, boss,” Fiona replied.

At some point, Nightingale had wandered off and was now staring intently into the pile of ashes in the common room’s unlit fireplace.

Maxim sighed with frustration. “Okay, look, how about this? Both groups go in separately. Whoever captures or kills the necromancer first gets all of the reward money.”

“Deal,” said Riven, speaking up before Andra could respond. “I can’t wait to shove our victory in your smug expressionless mask.”

It wasn’t until the party had boarded the alchemic train and were well underway that they realized that they had talked themselves into doing a job that they had not wanted to do.

 

---

 

Lady von Ekko’s Glorious Adventurer Brigade settled into the dining car. It wasn’t going to be a long trip, but it was long enough for a meal, and it was said that the best food was eaten at 80 miles per hour. Andra disagreed, but she was hungry and the food was decent enough. Unfortunately, it seemed that Maxim’s group had had the same idea and was already at a table, their tiger curled up underneath. How had it been allowed to board the train? Andra’s group selected a table as far away as they could get.

“Hey, what do you think they call themselves?” Kaylen asked conspiratorially. “Team Androgyne?”

When no one responded she added “Cause, you know, they’re all pretty androgynous?”

“So that’s the deal with that tiger,” Riven said, ignoring Kaylen. “I’ve seen her around the Guild and I always wondered what was up with her.”

Andra frowned at Riven. “You saw a tiger wandering around and your reaction was just to shrug and move on?”

“Yeah, I mean, she wasn’t bothering anyone.”

Fiona whimpered sadly. “I was really looking forward to working with Bessen.”

Just then a balled-up napkin landed on the middle of the table. As one, the group looked at their rivals’ table to see Atworth snickering.

“Atworth!” Maxim snapped. “That was childish.”

He turned and saw the group looking at him.

“Throw another one.”

The rest of the train ride proceeded similarly. Maxim’s team continued to jeer and toss napkins, and Andra occasionally paused in eating her goulash to throw some barbs back, until the conductor sternly demanded that the groups stop. The buildings of Rampart City grew smaller and smaller until they were gone and replaced with the picturesque farmland beyond the city. This, in turn, was replaced with woods, the trees so close to the tracks that it became dizzying looking out the windows for too long.

Eventually, the train pulled to a stop at a large town. Andra couldn’t remember the name, probably something like Woodburg or Treeville. Most of the buildings looked new; it seemed that the town had experienced a lot of growth since the building of the alchemic rail. As soon as the train had halted, the two parties stepped out of the dining car and into the surprisingly crowded station.

“Alright, so the necromancer is supposed to be hiding out in a tower somewhere in the woods east of town.”

Andra was addressing her party, but it seemed Maxim couldn’t resist butting in.

“I suppose you’ll be asking around to find its location?”

Andra glared at Maxim. He must have been planning to get a head start while Andra’s group dilly-dallied around town. “Of course not. We can find the tower on our own.”

The two groups ended up marching through the town, side-by-side until they reached the edge of the forest.

“Alright, I suppose this is where we part ways,” Maxim said.

“Yeah, I suppose it is,” Andra replied. She turned to face her party. “Go!”

As one, Andra’s party began dashing into the trees. “So long, suckers!” Kaylen shouted.

 

---

 

Two hours later and Andra was regretting her decision. It didn’t help that Kaylen kept pointing out that they were lost and that they definitely should have asked for directions. The party trudged through the thankfully not-too-thick forest, wondering whether they would be too tired to fight by the time they reached the tower.

“Maybe this is for the best,” Riven said, perhaps for the third time. “I really wasn’t looking forward to fighting zombies.”

“I was actually getting excited,” Kaylen replied, again for the third time. “I wanted to show Maxim’s team how easily I could take down zombies with the holy power of Sanguis.”

“Do you even have divine powers?” Andra asked. “Because I specifically told you to use them back at the monastery and you still went charging in swinging that mace.”

“I do have divine powers. I just got excited at the monastery,” Kaylen explained sheepishly.

A couple of minutes later, the group reached a small clearing. Andra was about to pass through the surrounding brush and into the clearing when she noticed something that made her halt the party with an outstretched hand. In the center of the field was a single huge flower, much larger than a person. It had no stem, appearing to be attached directly to the ground, and the petals were blue. As the group watched, it slowly bloomed, first revealing an interior set of red petals then, where the stamen should be, a woman. She was facing away from the party and from the angle, it was hard to tell exactly how much of her body was human-shaped, though it was clear that she had at least the beginnings of legs. Her hair and skin were green and she was entirely naked.

“Is that a dryad or a leshy?” asked Kaylen, her voice a whisper. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a fairy.”

“No, she’s no fairy. I think she’s an alraune,” Fiona replied.

Riven shook her head. “You’re both wrong. She’s a rafflesia.”

“A demon,” Kaylen said seriously.

“Sometimes they come to human lands to feast on our flesh,” Riven added. “Apparently we’re considered a delicacy. Looks like she’s rooted at the moment, so she’ll be at her most powerful. We need to be careful.”

Kaylen was already drawing her mace.

“Fiona,” Andra whispered, sharply.

“On it, boss.”

Fiona lifted Kaylen up and tucked her under one arm.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Kaylen whispered. At least she was smart enough not to draw the demon’s attention.
    Just then, a loud bellowing scream emerged from somewhere in the woods behind the party, gaining the attention of the rafflesia, who turned and looked at the party with shock.

Riven stepped past the bushes out into the clearing. “Fear not, fellow adventurers,” she called out, loudly. “For I, our mage with powerful fire magic, will defeat this beast with my powerful fire magic.”

At that moment, she leapt to the side just as huge spine-covered roots burst from the ground beneath her and twisted around in the empty air where she had been standing a moment ago.

Riven laughed theatrically. “This poor creature did not anticipate that a mage would be so nimble. If only she had a way to force me to stand still, or even force me to turn my immense power against my—”

She cut off with a gasp as she was hit with a bolt of pink magic that Andra now recognized as a charm spell. Then she stood there, dazed, as the spell worked its way through her mind.

“Kaylen,” Andra said.

“On it.”

From her position under Fiona’s arm Kaylen held out a hand, palm-forward towards Riven. For a moment, her hand glowed and Riven seemed to glow in response.

“Oh, so you really do have powers,” Andra said.

Riven shook her head and said “Huh? Hey, what happened?” Then she turned and saw Andra’s cocky smirk.

“Come on! No fair!” Riven whined.

At that moment long, thin vines shot from the ground around Riven and quickly wrapped her up, pulling her legs together so that she lost her balance and was forced to rely on them for support. One arm was pinned to her side, the other to her chest.

“Oh, okay, this is good, too,” Riven said. “We can do this.”

She moaned with pleasure as the vines squeezed her more tightly.

“Uh, boss? Should we do something?” Fiona asked.

Andra hesitated, while the vines twisted Riven around to face the rafflesia. The rafflesia spoke to Riven in the same demonic language that the arachne had used. Riven replied in the same language and the two conversed back and forth for a while, leaving Andra wishing she could speak demonic languages so that she didn’t have to rely on the treacherous Riven to act as her ambassador. Finally, the vines unwrapped themselves from around Riven and receded into the ground.

“Aww,” Riven moaned sadly.

Deciding that the rafflesia was no longer a threat, Andra stepped out into the clearing, followed by Fiona who was still carrying Kaylen under her arm.

“So what’s going on?” Andra asked.

“Turns out she’s not here to eat anyone,” Riven explained. “She came here fleeing one of the Demon King’s campaigns. She was forced to flee her home and is now living in hiding here. Let me tell you, she is not a fan of the necromancer, so she was pretty happy to learn we were here to stop him.”

“Another one?” Fiona asked. “Why are so many demons coming to a land that’s so hostile to them?”

Riven shrugged. “A lot of demons see human lands as a sort of romantic unexplored wilderness. So their lives get upset at home and they come here, dreaming of adventure instead of seeking out refuge with another demon lord. But a lot of times they’re unprepared like this girl. I directed her to a friend who can teach her Rampartian, so that she can at least communicate. It was the least I could do.”

“Wait, what about that arachne?” Andra asked. “She wasn’t a refugee or something, was she? Because then I’d feel guilty about killing her.”

“Refugee or not, she was attacking people and needed to be stopped,” Kaylen pointed out.

“I’m pretty sure she was a spy, from the way she talked,” Riven explained. “And even if she wasn’t, killing a demon is no big deal as long as you don’t exorcise them. Their soul goes back to whoever holds their contract. If her contract was destroyed like the incubus, she’ll be a free agent with no body and no resources and have to work her way back up from the bottom of society, but I’m sure she’ll bounce back in the end.”

“Alright, well, with that little detour out of the way, let’s get moving,” Andra said.

Riven hesitated. “Uh, listen, you girls probably have a handle on the whole zombie thing, right? I mean, they’re slow and shambling and you have Kaylen to take care of them, so you don’t really need me. So do you think she’d mind if I asked to hang out with her a bit? Obviously she doesn’t have to use her charm magic or anything on me if she doesn’t want to, but of course if she does want to I’d totally be up for that. I feel like—”

“Fiona,” Andra said, interrupting Riven.

“Right. On it.”

Fiona lifted Riven with her free hand and tucked her under that arm.

“No! No fair!” Riven whined.

Ignoring her, Andra breezed past the rafflesia and continued through the clearing, Fiona in tow carrying the others.

 

---

 

Bessen and the others watched as Lady von Ekko’s Glorious Adventurer Brigade went dashing into the woods, Kaylen shouting “So long, suckers,” as she ran.

“They’re weird. I like them,” Nightingale said.

Maxim turned to address the team. Bessen found something uncomfortable in the way he addressed them from beneath a plague doctor’s mask. She wondered if he’d placed scented herbs in the beak in preparation for the encounter with the zombies. “They’re a bunch of idiots. Alright, Atworth, do your thing.”

Atworth held up a hand. From somewhere in the trees, a robin came flying and alighted on their outstretched finger. The tiger, Melissa, eyed the bird hungrily but did nothing. Holding the robin close, Atworth whispered to it and, although it didn’t visibly appear to respond, it seemed that Atworth got their answer because a moment later they said, “The tower is this way,” and started walking in a slightly different direction from Andra’s group. The others followed.

They continued walking for around two hours, occasionally pausing for Atworth to consult another bird. They found themselves walking through thick woods, full of low-hanging branches, thorn-covered bushes, and sharp inclines. That was the disadvantage of asking a bird for directions, Bessen supposed. They found a dry creek bed which was somewhat easier to follow, but the incline sharpened on either bank until they were forced to choose between turning back and hoping that the banks leveled out further on. They could attempt to climb up, but no one wanted to figure out how to lift Maxim, the physically weakest party member, up so they decided to continue forward.

The party soon found an obstacle that no one had expected. Vaguely spherical translucent blobs about the size of dogs were lying in a huge pile, blocking the path. They looked like huge droplets of water. Or maybe fish eggs.

“Amazing,” Maxim said, awed. “I’ve never seen so many slimes.”

“What’s the big deal?” Bessen asked. “They aren’t very powerful monsters.”

“It’s not about how powerful they are, it’s about how rare they are,” Maxim explained. “They come from the Fae Realms, you know? And they’re probably the most alchemically interesting creature in existence. They’re worth more than gold.”

He sighed with longing. “I’ve always wanted a sample to experiment with, but they’re so expensive.”

“Well, how are we going to get past them?” Bessen asked.

“Forget getting past them, we have to bring them with us,” Maxim said frantically.

Atworth shook their head. “If you’re referring to my powers, they don’t work that way. I can communicate with animals, but I can’t control them.”

For a moment, Bessen pictured the slimes bouncing after the party in a long trail.

“They don’t need to be alive,” Maxim said sharply. “Bessen, start smashing.”

“I dunno,” said Bessen, looking at the slimes resting peacefully in their pile. “They seem pretty innocent. I’d feel bad killing them.”

Maxim sighed. For a moment, Bessen thought she saw the goggles of his mask fog up. “I suppose you’re right. I hate to leave such a treasure trove behind, but we have no other choice. Besides, we have a bet to win. So we need to figure out how to get past.”

“Can’t we just walk around the side?” Atworth asked. “The pile is thin enough on the left that we should be able to get past without stepping on any of them.”

“If we startle them, they might turn corrosive,” Maxim said. “We don’t want to be in the middle of them when that happens.”

Nightingale had crouched next to the edge of the pile and was now poking one of the slimes. “So doing this is a bad idea?” she asked, continuing to poke it. “Wow, it’s so cool.”

Bessen stepped forward. “Alright, I’ve got this.”

She took a deep breath, putting her whole body into the action, then let out a great screaming bellow. It lasted for several seconds, seeming to shake the trees nearby. Her party members had covered their ears, and Melissa’s fur was bristling like a frightened cat.

The slimes didn’t react.

“Huh, that usually works,” said Bessen.

Atworth slapped Bessen’s arm. “I told you to let me handle any animals,” they said.

“Monsters count as animals?” Bessen asked.

Atworth sighed, pinching the bridge of their nose. “I’ll tell you what. If it’s alive and it doesn’t talk, it counts as an animal.”

“What about plants?” Nightingale asked, her tone that of a child thinking she’d outsmarted her parent. She was now petting the slime like a cat.

“That’s…” Atworth hesitated, unable to form a response. “You are so frustrating to talk to, you know that? Just let me handle this.”

They knelt down next to Nightingale and whispered something to the slime pile. The slimes did not offer any sort of reaction.

“Strange, I can’t seem to get through to them,” Atworth said.

“Can they even hear?” Bessen asked.

“If they want to. But you’d think out here in the wilderness far from their world, they’d keep themselves sensitive to sound,” Maxim explained.

Atworth examined Nightingale for a while, who had now pulled the slime onto her lap. “You know, they really don’t seem to be reacting to anything. I think we can just walk past.”

After coaxing Nightingale back to her feet, the party slowly picked their way through the edge of the slime pile, finding the way easily and gaining no reaction from the slimes. Melissa leapt up to the grassy ledge above and walked along it, staring down at the party with the tiger equivalent of a smug face. Once they were past the slime pile, they began to move on, but Maxim hesitated, reaching into his bag and pulling out a syringe.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Atworth asked.

“I can’t just leave them here,” Maxim said. “I need a sample.”

Maxim returned to the pile, and slowly inserted the syringe into one of the slimes. It didn’t react. Carefully, Maxim pulled back the plunger, collecting his sample. Still the slime did nothing. Finally, Maxim removed the syringe from the slime. The slime twitched and quivered. Then several of the slimes around it twitched and quivered in response. Maxim stood quickly and began backing away. The slimes began to move forward, sliding along the ground like snakes rather than the bouncing movement Bessen had pictured. They were far from the fastest creatures Bessen had seen, they would be easy to outrun, but there was something unnerving in how easily these shapeless creatures moved along the ground.

“Let’s go!” Maxim called, and took off at a run, the other party members in tow.

 

---

 

Lady von Ekko’s Glorious Adventurer Brigade continued for another half hour until they encountered a wide dirt road. As they pulled themselves out of the brush, they looked back and forth. The road stretched far in either direction.

Riven sighed with resignation. “Well, looks like we’ve been going the wrong way.”

“You don’t know that,” said Kaylen. “Maybe the road leads to the tower.”

“If the road led to the tower, couldn’t we have just followed it the whole time?” Fiona asked.

Andra glared at her.

“Sorry,” Fiona added, wincing.

Andra picked a direction. “Not much else we can do. We might as well follow it.”

The party started walking, but they had only made it a few feet before a wagon came around the bend ahead of them, led by a pair of shaggy horses.

“Great, we can ask for directions,” Kaylen said.

“But if we do that, we’ll be proving Maxim right,” Andra protested.

“Proving him right about what?”

“About how we needed to ask for directions,” Andra explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The other three stared at Andra for a moment, stunned.

“We’re asking for directions,” Riven said forcefully.

The wagon was driven by two men, middle-aged and bearded, who eyed the group with suspicion.

“Excuse me,” Riven greeted them, waving. “We’re looking for the necromancer’s tower.”

“You’re adventurers, then?” asked one of the men. “Here to kill the necromancer?”

“That’s right,” said Kaylen. “Soon your town will be free of their threat.”

The man snickered. “Good luck with that. The tower is just down this road.”

Andra laughed triumphantly. “You see? I didn’t need Maxim’s advice at all.”

 

---

 

There were a lot of zombies.

Bessen wondered how long the necromancer had been at this. How he could have gathered so many corpses without anyone finding out.

There were hundreds, most kept in an enormous pen held in by only a low fence that the zombies were either unwilling or unable to step over. They were packed together, with barely enough room to step around each other. Dozens more wandered, or perhaps patrolled the area around the tower. Most were fairly intact, though some had exposed bone or were missing limbs. One had no head. They would be no match for an army, but they could easily overwhelm four adventurers. 

Her party was crouched in the bushes at the edge of the woods near the tower. It stretched into the sky, looking slightly off balance, made of rough stone. A road led right up to a set of huge doors at its base. Bessen sighed with frustration, wondering if they could have taken that road the whole time.

“Alright, Atworth,” said Maxim. “You’re up.”

Atworth reached into a small pouch at their side and pulled out a squirrel. Holding it close to their mouth, they whispered to it, and a moment later the squirrel scampered down Atworth’s sleeve, then leg, then dashed across the field, unnoticed by the zombies, up the wall of the tower, and through a window.

“Was that in there the whole time?” Bessen asked.

“Yeah,” Atworth replied, speaking in the tone one uses when talking about a cute animal. “He’s a sleepy boy.”

“Maxim, I’m bored,” Nightingale whined.

“Don’t worry,” Maxim replied, checking his bag and arranging a few bottles. “It’ll be your turn soon enough.

A few minutes later, the squirrel returned, scampering back up Atworth’s leg and onto their shoulder. It made a chittering sound in their ear.

“He’s on the ground floor,” Atworth said. “In some sort of ritual room, raising more zombies.”

Maxim nodded. “Alright, it’s your turn, Nightingale.”

Nightingale grinned excitedly, then quickly scanned the field between herself and the tower, taking stock of the positions of all of the zombies, where they were moving and where they were looking. Bessen tried to follow her gaze, but she found it impossible to remember everything. Suddenly, it seemed Nightingale found her opportunity, because she took off running, leaving barely more than a rustle in the bushes. She dashed across the grass, staying low and moving silently, until she reached the tower. With no hesitation she began climbing, finding handholds that Bessen couldn’t see, until she reached a window and was gone. Bessen couldn’t help but note that even though Nightingale wasn’t a thief, she made a much better one than Andra.

“You know, I didn’t get to do too much on this job,” said Maxim as the group waited. “Oh well, I suppose there’s always the next one. I’d say we did pretty solid for our first time, at least.”

At that moment, they heard a cry from somewhere near the other side of the tower.

“Die, zombies!”

It was Kaylen. She was charging at the wandering zombies, brandishing her mace. She reached one of the zombies and swung hard, making a new dent in its head. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to stop it and it started reaching for Kaylen. Meanwhile, Fiona and Andra were joining the battle. Fiona’s sword transformed itself into a battleaxe as she swung it, severing the arm of a zombie. When had she gotten such a high-quality enchanted weapon? Andra dashed from zombie to zombie, slicing at tendons. It was a solid strategy for zombie fighting. The magic that held a zombie together could take over the role of a few damaged muscles, but more damage to key areas meant more work for the magic and it would eventually fall apart.

Riven was still standing near the trees. She flung a fireball at one of the zombies and it exploded on the creature’s chest, blasting it apart as well as several of the zombies nearby. The zombie’s head soared high into the air, its hair trailing behind it like a banner. For a moment, no one could take their eyes off it. Until it landed right on Kaylen’s forehead, causing her to collapse in a heap.

Fiona and Andra rushed to her side, holding off the zombies attempting to use the opportunity to finish off Kaylen. Riven joined them as well, attempting to pull the unconscious Kaylen back towards the trees, pausing occasionally to hurl another spell. However, Riven’s fireball had damaged the fence holding back the bulk of the zombie army, and they would soon surround the little group.

“We have to help them,” Bessen said.

“Those idiots brought this on themselves,” Maxim replied. “Let them get eaten.”

“I really don’t want to watch them die,” Atworth said.

Maxim groaned with frustration. “Fine. We’ll help them. Bessen, lead the way.”

Bessen nodded. “Alright, let me get in the zone.”

She drew her axe then took a deep breath and let it out. Then she took another. And another, getting faster and faster until she felt her face going red. She focused on the zombies until everything else seemed to fade away. They needed to be destroyed.

She let out a warcry, not the tree-shaking bellow from before, but still a louder sound than anyone would expect a human to make, and charged at the zombies, cutting them to pieces with uncanny speed. She became an unthinking force of destruction, forgetting everything else, including how long she had been fighting and how many enemies were left to destroy. All she knew was she had to keep going. At one point she caught sight of Atworth, Melissa at their side, ripping off a zombie’s arm with her teeth. At another moment, she saw Maxim splashing a liquid on a zombie that caused it to burn down to its bones within seconds beneath an eerie purple flame.

She had no idea how long she had been fighting, but she eventually heard Maxim’s voice calling out “Bessen, stop!” and some part of her mind told her to listen. She halted her attack to find that she and her allies were completely surrounded by zombies. She was covered in blood and viscera and what might have been vomit, the stench of it nearly causing her to retch when it finally registered. They were still some distance from Andra’s party’s location. The zombies were not moving.

“Good,” called a voice that Bessen didn’t recognize. She looked to see a surprisingly young man standing at the entrance of the tower. He wore the requisite black robes, but had short blond hair and patchy facial hair that suggested that he was attempting and failing to grow a beard. “Now, if you will kindly hand your equipment over to my friends, we can talk about this like adults.”

Maxim handed over his bag to the nearest zombie who, to Bessen’s surprise, took it. Bessen hesitated a moment, but eventually handed over her axe. It took two zombies to carry it.

“I guess the tiger is a bit of a problem,” the necromancer said. “Send it into the woods.”

Atworth whispered to Melissa, who growled quietly, but obeyed, padding towards the zombies, who parted to let her through. Once she was gone, a few zombies moved closer, one on either side of each party member taking their arms in their cold hands and leading them towards the tower entrance. At some point, they met up with the other party, who were being led by zombies in a similar manner. They were all just as stain-covered as Bessen. The lace that covered Andra’s clothes was torn in several places, Fiona looked to have earned a few more scars, one lens of Riven’s spectacles had been completely obscured by a splash of blood, and Kaylen was moaning softly in a half-conscious state and supported by the zombies leading her.

The necromancer greeted the adventurers at the entrance of the tower with a finger-waggling wave and a grin, then took the lead as he led them inside, into a huge, nearly empty room dominated by an elaborate sigil covering the floor.

“I don’t get it, why not just kill us and add us to your army?” Bessen asked.

“Oh, I plan to add you to my army,” the necromancer explained as he led the way. “But not as zombies. Zombies are nice and all, but I can do much more impressive things with living specimens. And adventurers who are experienced in combat will make excellent liches.”

“Tell me this wasn’t your plan all along, Raven,” Andra muttered.

“You know I’m not into guys,” Riven hissed back. “Besides, liches are still dead. Our souls will be gone and they’ll just be copies of what’s left of our thoughts and memories, serving him.”

“Ah, you’re familiar with the process,” said the necromancer cheerfully. “You can share all the grisly details with your friends while you wait.”

The necromancer led the group down a set of stairs and into a dungeon. Whoever had built this tower was very by-the-books, it seemed. Each cell was made of thick stone on three sides with the fourth being rows of metal bars and a door. There were eight cells, and each adventurer was locked into their own cell. Their equipment was piled into the eighth. The cells had no beds, making it clear that they weren’t meant to stay here long. Other than that, the dungeon had the standard look, complete with ancient cobwebs and the lingering smell of its previous occupants. It was lit only by a few dim, nearly-expired light potions. The necromancer and his zombie followers climbed back up the stairs, leaving the two parties to contemplate their fate.

 

---

 

Andra paced back and forth in her cell for a few minutes. This was all Kaylen’s fault. The idiot had gone charging in as usual and didn’t even bother to use the divine powers that could have easily collapsed the zombies by the dozens. Fiona was supposed to keep an eye on her. This was her fault, too.

“Alright, Andra. I think this is your area of expertise,” Maxim called from his cell, right across from Andra’s. “Can you get these doors unlocked for us?”

Andra froze. This was supposed to be her area of expertise.

“Uh, of course,” she said, trying to stall as she desperately looked around her cell for something useful. “Just give me a minute here and I’ll have us out of here.”

Maxim’s blank mask stared at Andra. “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

“Of course I do,” Andra snapped back.

“She doesn’t,” called Riven, from somewhere down the hall.

“Alright, how about you, Atworth?” Maxim asked. “I think the necromancer hung the key on a hook by the stairs. Can your squirrel friend grab it?”

“I’m afraid not,” Atworth replied. “He ran away as soon as the fight started.”

“Great, wonderful, because why would our tamer keep their animals nearby?” Maxim said, becoming frustrated. “What about you, Riven, want to magic these cells open?”

“Oh, can’t you use your alchemy to make a bomb out of moss and rat turds?” Riven shot back.

“Just do it, please,” Maxim groaned.

“The thing about that is, I kind of used up all my power fighting the zombies,” Riven explained.

“Of course you did. Because you, like all mages, are completely worthless. I suppose your grimoire was confiscated too?”

“It probably would have been,” said Riven, “if I had brought it. It’s really heavy, though.”

Maxim growled. He seemed to be reaching the end of his patience. “Bessen? Fiona? Please tell me one of you is strong enough to break out.”

Andra could see Fiona from her position, testing the bars, one by one.

“I’m afraid not,” said Bessen. “I’d only hurt myself if I tried.”

Fiona shook her head, though there was no way Maxim would be able to see it.

“Kaylen, please, tell me you have something.” Maxim’s voice was growing desperate.

Kaylen moaned. “I don’t know. My head is really hurting right now.”

“Wait, why haven’t you healed yourself?” Riven asked. “You’re hurt. You’re a priestess. You can heal yourself.”

“But what if someone gets more hurt later?” Kaylen asked.

The response was a chorus of “Just heal yourself!”

A moment later, Andra thought she could see a glow coming from somewhere down the hall.

“Ah, I feel much better,” Kaylen said, sounding much more aware. “But I don’t think there’s anything I can do to get us out of here.”

“Unbelievable,” Maxim said, his voice quivering as he began to panic. “My first time adventuring and I’m going to die. There’s nothing we can do.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” said Andra. “It’ll work out one way or another.”

“How? How could it possibly work out now?” Maxim shouted. He sank down to his knees and made a sound Andra thought might have been crying.

Andra heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Could the necromancer be done with his preparations so soon? But there wasn’t the plodding of zombies following him, just a bouncy step of someone strolling cheerfully. Soon, the source of the footsteps came into sight.

“Nightingale!” Maxim called, with the gratitude of a starving man being offered food. “Nightingale is here to save us. We’re going to live.”

“Yay! Nightingale is here!” Nightingale replied, clapping her hands in mock excitement. She picked up the key from its hook.

“Yes, that’s the key,” Maxim said. “Now just unlock our cells.”

Nightingale examined Maxim in the corner of her eye. “You got caught. I didn’t get caught. I think that deserves a bigger share of the reward.”

“Yes. Absolutely. Whatever you need,” Maxim said desperately.

“You mean absolutely not,” Andra snapped.

“Then I guess you’re staying here,” said Nightingale.

“No! No, don’t listen to her,” said Maxim, grabbing the bars. “She doesn’t get to make that call.”

“Maxim, I’m assuming we’re discarding our bet so that we don’t all, you know, die here?” Andra asked.

“I don’t know. I guess. Who cares about that anymore?” Maxim replied.

“Then I’m not giving up any of my share to an elf trying to hold us hostage. Especially one who doesn’t realize that it’s in her best interest to take an equal share.”

Nightingale gave Andra the same side-eyed exam she’d given Maxim.

“You see, if you demand more money now that your allies are in danger, they’ll do the same next time you’re in danger. The entire trust of your team will fall apart and soon you’ll be deliberately sabotaging each other to the point where you won’t be able to get anything done. You need to be able to trust your teammates.”

Nightingale considered this for a moment. Finally, she said “Point taken,” and proceeded to unlock Maxim’s cell.

One-by-one, each of the party members were freed, and once the final cell was opened, they had their equipment back. Nightingale led the way back upstairs, crossbow in hand. The ground floor was almost entirely dominated by a single room. This room had no furniture, only a huge sigil painted onto the floor in red, about twenty feet in diameter. There were no windows, but the room was well lit by rows of light potions hanging from the ceiling. The necromancer crouched on the far side of the room, his back to the stairs. He appeared to be making alterations to the sigil to prepare it to convert the living into liches instead of the dead into zombies. Nightingale took aim with her crossbow, waving a hand over the bolt to enchant it, and fired. The bolt soared through the air, past the necromancer, and exploded on the floor nearby. Shocked, the necromancer looked first at the spot where the bolt had landed, then in the direction it had flown from and spotted the party. He began to whisper an incantation.

Not hesitating, Nightingale drew her sword and dashed forward. She was just preparing to thrust at the necromancer when he finished his spell and sent a thin needle of black energy through Nightingale’s chest, which continued through her to hit the wall near Andra. Nightingale crumpled onto the floor.

The others prepared to attack, but Kaylen was the first to move. She traced a circle in the air as she focused. Once the circle was complete, a beam of light shot from it to blast the necromancer in his chest, knocking him off his feet. He spun in the air, landing with his back to the party, and seemed to sink into the floor of the tower, becoming nothing more than a shadow. Kaylen rushed to Nightingale and knelt at her side. She touched Nightingale’s wound and her hands and Nightingale’s body briefly glowed as the wound closed itself up.

Nightingale looked up at the priestess, her eyes bleary. “Kaylen, you saved me,” she said.

Kaylen looked up at Andra, who had just caught up. “That is what I’m always saving my power for,” she stated firmly.

Meanwhile, Fiona and Bessen had just reached the black splotch on the floor where the necromancer had disappeared. Fiona poked at it with her weapon, now in the form of a longsword. “So, is he dead or what?” she asked.

“That looked like an escape spell,” said Riven, catching up and examining the splotch. “Quick, easy to cast, but not exactly pleasant. It’ll take him some time to recover.”

“Then after everything we failed to complete the job?” asked Atworth.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Andra. “We stopped the necromancer’s evil plot. We can just tell people that we killed him.”

“But if we just leave, won’t he just move back in and pick up where he left off?” Fiona asked.

Maxim adjusted his mask. “I could destroy the tower. You all saw how precarious it was. A few well-placed explosions and it’ll be a pile of rubble.”

“What about the zombies?” Atworth asked. “There are too many for us to kill. Do we just let them roam free to attack more people?”

“What about them?” Andra replied. “Our job was to kill the necromancer, not the zombies. The zombies are someone else’s problem.”

“Okay, well, have fun blowing up the tower, then,” said Atworth. “I have a tiger and a squirrel to go find.”

After that, the two parties finished up their business at the tower and returned to town semi-triumphantly. Andra wouldn’t exactly call it her greatest success, and she would have strong words for her allies, but at least she got to blow up a tower. Maxim even let her light the fuse!