“What are you doing?” Resius asked suddenly. Elaina didn’t look up from where she sat, soaking in the bath, reading the spellbook that Blackbarn had left her with when they’d parted ways. She was slouched so that the water came up over her chest, but she’d been careful to keep the book and the hand holding it out of the water.

“Taking a bath,” Elaina answered matter-of-factly, “What are you doing?”

“You’re not worried about someone coming in and seeing you?” He asked with a curious brow, knowing how self-conscious she typically was about her body.

“Eh,” Elaina grunted noncommittally. It was true that it usually would have bothered her, and it wasn’t as though she relished the idea of someone coming in to gawk at her, but it seemed unimportant at the immediate moment. It was possible she would be dead by morning and strung up as a meal for crows by noon. In light of that, people seeing her penis and asking awkward questions seemed almost preferable. But, of course, if she survived, she’d be right back to being a ball of anxiety about such matters, she supposed.

“Right,” Resius grumbled as he sat down next to the pool on the lower level where she was relaxing, “Shouldn’t you be concerning yourself with other things besides a soak?”

Elaina’s eyes slowly moved away from the book and leveled on him, “This could be the last bath I ever take.”

“Exactly,” Resius says, “Which means you should be, oh, I don’t know, forming a strategy? Running for your life? Sneaking into the enemy camp to kill the captain under cover of darkness? Anything besides just sitting here and soaking. At least do some prep work, mate.”

“I am,” Elaina said, waving the book around, “I’m reading.”

“Reading? Why?” he reached out, trying to grab the book, which was easy to keep away from him because all she had to do was hold it over the water, “What is that?”

“Spellbook,” Elaina answered, knowing she was starting to drive the man crazy with her lack of explanation.

“Who’s spellbook? Where did you get that?” Resius demanded, the annoyance edging further into his voice.

“Found it,” Elaina teased with a bit of a smirk. The game was up. Now that he knew she was trying to get a rise out of him, he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

“Why did you do this?” He asked, shifting his tone to one more concerned, “You didn’t have to. We could have figured something out with those two days.”

“Because it was the right thing to do,” Elaina answered plainly, cutting him off before he objected, “It was my decision. You need to get used to that idea, alright? I can’t just hang back and let a bunch of people get killed because some asshole with a grudge will do anything to get to me.”

The occultist stared back at her quietly as he seemed to finally hear her in the way she’d wanted. She dropped the defensive tone she’d assumed with him and spoke more earnestly, “Look, if I do end up dying in the morning, the rest of you will still walk away free and clear. But if I win, then they fuck off, and we get back to what we came here to do. So no matter how it ends, I’ll have saved all your lives.”

“You think I’ll just walk away after seeing some bloody merc cut down my friend?” Resius asked incredulously.

“You will if you don’t want me haunting you,” Elaina threatened, smiling back at him. It was a nice sentiment all the same. Knowing someone who would go scorched earth for her like that was nice, refreshing after the life she’d lived of being treated like the thing someone scraped off their shoe.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re very pigheaded?” he asked as he stood back up.

“Might have come up once or twice,” Elaina said absently as she turned her attention back to her book, “Learned from the best, didn’t I?”

“Ginger git.”

“Limey prick.”

Resius shook his head with a chortle as he turned and left the baths, giving her a nonchalant wave over his shoulder before he vanished from view. Once again, the only sound in the baths was the running water. It would have been much more peaceful if it weren’t for the gravity of the situation rapidly approaching.

Elaina had hoped to find something in the book that she could have used. Perhaps Blackbarn had known of some specific spell that could aid her in the coming fight, or maybe he had just hoped there was something in there she could use. Either way, she wasn’t seeing it. It was an interesting book, but it didn’t seem to contain the answers she needed. There were spells in its pages, none of which she thought she could master by morning. There were notes on what they had observed in and around Willowridge, but none of it pertained to the captain himself and his weaknesses. On the other hand, the arcane theory had plenty to chew on, clarifying things about magic that she hadn’t known before. For instance, she had a much better idea of incorporating something like a sword into spellcasting rather than relying on a free hand to do it alone.

The next page she flipped to had a rough sketch of one of the vrocks. The owner of the spellbook had observed them for a little while during the day, taking careful notes of when they were active and when they seemed to be asleep. It would have been valuable information when she and Resius first entered the bailey days ago. There were brief notes on the creatures’ abilities as well, all of which Elaina had seen during the fight. But there was one that she had seen that wasn’t in the notes. Instead, the owner had speculated, writing the words “Mirror Image” with a question mark and circled.

“Mirror Image,” she said aloud, flipping back through the pages to see if it was a spell's name. Sure enough, it was there. It was an illusion spell that created duplicates of the caster in a dense formation to throw off the aim of attackers. It had been a surprise to see the demon use it when it had. It wasn’t the sort of thing she thought offered a distinct advantage, but then she was thinking of it from the point of view of someone who often saw through illusions. Maybe it would be more convincing against someone who didn’t.

It was possible that a seasoned warrior like Steinbach would have encountered something like this before. The spell was cast from one of the lower circles, so the odds seemed likely. If he had, he might have a countermeasure for it. She figured it might be possible to circumvent the misdirection by simply attacking with something that targeted an area instead of a single person. A blunt counter to a blunt instrument. She would need something more precise, something that could be used skillfully with excellent timing. If the book had contained the spell Blackbarn had used for misdirection against the sarglagon, that would have been ideal, but it didn’t.

Infusions were another interesting topic she found in the book, specifically elemental infusions, which allowed a mage to attune a weapon to things like fire, ice, or lightning. Something like that would square nicely with how she already fought, and the notes he had given in the book made it seem fairly simple to understand. It even seemed that certain individual casters could have elements they were naturally aligned to, which made sense with how Elaina had been wielding light up to this point. The principal was similar, but using elements she was not readily aligned with was supposedly more difficult. It was another possible tool in her belt, but it wasn’t the trump card she had hoped for.

Her toes were getting pruney. Setting the book aside on her pile of clothes, she leaned back with a sigh. It was time to crawl out of the bath and see if it wasn’t possible to get some sleep. Staying up all night exhausting herself wouldn’t do her any good. She wondered if she should go to Royce’s tent or her own. She’d seen the witch at the healer’s tent when the landgraf had first brought her back to camp. Royce had examined her to see if there was any other damage besides the brand on the back of her left hand; there hadn’t been. But the pain she had gone through when it had been placed on her had put her into a state of shock for a little while. It was Royce who had recommended to her to try and relax in a bath when she finally came out of it. She had to admit it was pretty good advice.

If she went to Royce’s tent, they would have sex; there was no doubt in her mind. She could tell herself now that she would have some self-control and hold off on exerting herself until after the duel, but she knew better. The prurient haze that normally took time to settle in would do so much quicker with Royce. It had damn near been instantaneous with the witch whenever they were together. Once it did, there would be no turning back, and she would be locked into acts of carnal passion with her new lover for hours before she could pull herself away. But if she didn’t go to her tent, Royce might get the wrong idea. She might think she was blowing her off.

Elaina decided it was better to apologize to Royce if she survived the duel than to exhaust herself the night before, and it being the reason she ended up dead. The swordmage stepped out of the bath and toweled off before quickly dressing and returning to her tent with the spellbook in hand. She would read through it again before falling asleep, hoping that something would reveal itself to her in that time.

As she walked through the camp, Elaina noticed a hush falling over people as she passed. Evidently, word had spread that she had offered herself up to the mercenary company to spare the rest of them, and there were a few mixed feelings about it. No one said anything except for Trevik when he had given her extra food on her tray at dinner time. He’d made some backhanded comment about her needing all the energy she could get for the fight in the morning. That had been all she’d heard on the matter besides Resius grilling her in the baths.

When she returned to her tent, she packed her things as best she could so that if she never returned to them, there wouldn’t be much difficulty redistributing them to whoever needed them. It was a macabre thought that sent chills down her spine, unsettling her in ways she’d not experienced since her time back home in her own version of Caledonia. Finally, after things were organized satisfactorily, she rolled onto her bedroll and sighed. She didn’t even bother with the spellbook. Now that she was lying down, she felt the rest of the day finally catching up with her in a crushing wave of exhaustion. As she began to drift off, she considered perhaps it would be better to lean on what she’d learned during the sparring sessions with Kitch over the last week.

The Kyrsahn was small, so she understood the importance of range and reach. Though she’d conceded that Elaina had some skill with a blade, it became readily apparent during their practice matches that there was a vast gulf between their respective skill levels. Still, Kitch had been patient and not at all a bad sport, refusing to boast or gloat while calmly correcting things like her stance and type of strikes. Elaina remembered feeling like a deadlier fighter after just the first day. She just hoped that the continued lessons would pay off the next morning.

“Miss Woodlock,” the landgraf’s voice said from the flap of her tent, “It’s almost time.”

Elaina sat up, groggily rubbing the sleep from her eyes as the first blush of color began to form on the horizon. She hadn’t even remembered falling asleep. It felt like she hadn’t been asleep at all, simply that she had closed her eyes at night and opened them in the morning. Strange, Elaina thought, how things worked out that way sometimes. She’d found herself in a situation where she had been sure she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep and then ended up passing out almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

“I’m up,” Elaina replied to the landgraf and immediately set to getting dressed and donning her armor. It had been the first time in a while that she had worn it with the expectation of a fight, so the process had a certain ceremonial quality to it. She checked and double-checked each piece's clasps and buckles before stepping out of the tent.

Dozens of soldiers had gathered silently outside her tent for her, waiting to escort her down to the bridge. Elaina scanned the crowd, surprised at how many of them had turned out for her. She would have thought they would have been putting their things in order in the event they received word that she had failed.

“What is this?” Elaina asked quietly as her eyes settled on Resius approaching her from the crowd.

“Some of the lads thought it would be nice to see you off; come down and show their support,” he answered somberly. Several of the men in the crowd nodded in the affirmative. Elaina felt like she might start blubbering like a baby if she lingered on the thought for too long.

“That’s very nice of you guys,” she said with a bit of a laugh, “Well then, I don’t want to keep everyone waiting. Let’s take a walk.”

The group that traveled with her only grew larger as she made her way through the camp, out of the gatehouse, and down the mountain to the bridge. By the time she reached the pre-arranged site of the duel, it felt like she had over half of the soldiers they had left trailing behind her. Elaina could see a lone figure approaching on the other side of the bridge. On the far bank, numerous soldiers had taken up position, ready to see the outcome and to step in if there was any treachery from their enemy. Cannons had been positioned on high ground, with a few situated to do as much damage as possible if needed.

“How many would you say there are?” Resius muttered to the landgraf behind Elaina.

“Four or five glaives,” Elsebeth guessed quietly, “it’s hard to be certain.”

Even if they had done battle with the Orbonne company before the battle on the bridge, when they’d still had the most soldiers that Elaina had seen under the landgraf’s command, it was unlikely that they would have been able to succeed. They would have had a slight numbers advantage, but the cannons would have rendered such an advantage useless. She felt more sure than ever that this was the correct course of action.

As she stepped onto the bridge, Royce stepped out from behind one of the pillars, her expression unusually serious, “I don’t suppose I can talk you out of this?”

“No,” Elaina said, tightening her bracers as she watched Captain Steinbach stop halfway across the bridge and wait. He stood just over six feet tall, was powerfully built, and wore armor that looked like it had been cobbled together from various sources. Though his hair had gone entirely gray, and he looked to be in his fifties, he didn’t move at all like a man who had been slowed by age.

“I have to do this,” Elaina continued, looking over at Royce, “It’s the right thing to do.”

“We could just leave,” Royce suggested, a desperate pleading in her eyes, “I could realm shift us out of here before anyone could say anything. We could be back in Tenebre Dontae within days. He’d never find you.”

Elaina raised the hand with the burn on the back of it. Even though it wasn’t visible with her gloves on, she knew that Royce remembered it. Royce frowned, “I think I can remove it if I can get you back home. I should have all the materials we need there.”

“You think?” Elaina asked, getting a slight shrug of one shoulder from Royce. “And let everyone here die after we ditch them?”

“I don’t care about them, Elaina,” Royce snapped, “I care about you.”

Elaina stared quietly at the witch for a moment as she triple-checked the clasps on her armor one final time. Royce’s posture relaxed, realizing Elaina wouldn’t walk away. She was going to see it through to the end. Satisfied that she would let it go, Elaina took the woman’s hand, gently squeezing it, “Thank you, though, for the offer. I really appreciate it.”

“I know,” Royce sighed, “I’ll be here to patch you up when you’re done.”

Elaina smiled sweetly and kissed Royce gently before continuing out onto the bridge. Steinbach was there waiting in a soldier’s at-ease stance.

“Karl Steinbach?” Elaina asked, resting her hand on the hilt of her sword.

“Mhm,” Steinbach grunted. Up close, he looked far more intimidating than he had at a distance. Various scars from past battles added an extra bit of ruggedness to the man, especially the one running diagonally across his face.

“Your son was a dickhead,” Elaina said bluntly.

“You’re an impertinent one,” Steinbach said with a growl, “you’d do well to watch that tongue of yours, Woodlock.”

“Or what,” Elaina challenged, “You gonna kill me?”

“That’s the idea,” the captain snorted through his nose, “You killed my boy.”

“Your boy tried to murder me in my sleep. He’s only dead because he was too much of a fuck up to pull it off,” Elaina argued.

“He was doing his job,” Steinbach responded, “But it makes no difference. I’m his father, and at the end of the day, what kind of father would I be to just let this slide?”

“Probably the same kind of father that turns a son into a soldier for demons, I’d wager,” Elaina retorted irritably.

“Fathers shouldn’t outlive their children,” Steinbach sneered at the swordmage, “And now I’ve none left. You took that from me.”

“I didn’t want to,” Elaina protested, “I never wanted to take your kid from you. I didn’t want to kill him, but he couldn’t leave well enough alone.”

The swordmage felt tears building in her eyes unexpectedly. She turned her head slightly and blinked rapidly in an attempt to keep herself from crying, “You know, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of that night. I had nightmares for weeks after. I’d wake up in a sweat, reliving that moment when the light went out in his eyes. It wasn’t like a monster or a demon and wasn’t quick and clean. It was another person, and it was slow and ugly.”

Elaina’s lip trembled slightly, “It doesn’t matter that he was a dickhead. I never wanted to be the kind of person who’d do something like that. I was fighting for my life.”

Steinbach’s expression shifted from fury to impassive, “For whatever it’s worth, girl, I believe you.”

“You do?” Elaina met his gaze once more.

“I do,” he nodded, “I remember what it was like to be young, backed into a corner for the first time, and walk away with unclean hands. After that, I tried to be a man of honor as often as I could.”

Elaina gestured to the breastplate he wore, the only part of his amalgamated armor that was nearly pristine. It was the breastplate of a Zelmescan officer from decades ago, “Is that what that’s all about then?”

Steinbach lifted a hand to rap the breastplate with his knuckles, “Something like that. But this world will push you, time and again, to break whatever code you’ve set out for yourself. I used to tell my boy, Dieter, that he wasn’t the sum of his mistakes. I’d tell him it was never too late to get back on the path and walk it with pride. But now...”

The older man shook his head and drew his sword, an old, immaculately kept officer’s longsword, “Makes no difference. It can’t be helped. It was just your bad luck to take that job. Or it was his. Maybe both.”

“Why was he so hellbent on it?” Elaina pleaded, “Huh? Why couldn’t he just chalk it up as a loss and fuck off?”

“We needed the girls, either as leverage or to lead us back to their mistress,” Steinbach said, the grip on his weapon visibly tightening.

“For what? For revenge? Give a little payback to the one that betrayed your precious Olcaru?”

“I don’t give a shit about Olcaru,” Steinbach interjected, “The Abyssals were a job, that’s it. But they left behind a fortune in coin and artifacts. Their mistress, Myanna of the Verdant Lust, used to be one of them, yeah... but we needed access, not revenge.”

Elaina blinked several times, her mind having trouble digesting what she heard, “Money? This was all about money?”

“No,” Steinbach growled, “You’re not listening. How many of the landgraf’s people do you think perished on this fool’s errand?”

The swordmage gave a small shrug, “I-I don’t know.”

“How many do you think we’ve lost? Or how many do you think have perished in the swamp or in South Gate?” He took a few steps closer, the sound of his armor creaking with every step, “Had we been able to take Myanna or to flip her, we could have bypassed all of that. We could have walked in the front door with minimal loss of life to everybody.”

Elaina realized now what he was saying. There was bound to be a hefty payday in Willowridge, riches the likes anyone here had never seen in their lives or would ever see again. There was also magic powerful enough to call up fiends from the pit and crack mountains in half. And, of course, there was the rift, the ever-present danger poisoning the south of Zelmesca. Walking right in would have ensured riches, taking dangerous magic off the board and cutting off the poison that had twisted the land as well as other Zelmescans.

And Elaina had fucked that all up when she’d stopped Dieter. “Let’s get started then,” she muttered. The sound of her sword pulled from its scabbard rang clean in the air between them.

“That a girl,” Steinbach rumbled, readying his sword as he advanced on her now with intent, “This won’t take long.”