“Well, thank the gods that’s over.” Ed said with feeling, turning away from the corpse. He’d started to feel like he’d be stuck in this hellhole forever, sitting in a cave with nobody but imps for company. All things considered, it could have been worse, but that wasn’t saying much.

  Jori scuttled off over the rocks, back toward the cave. “Come on! We have to check on the others.”

  By the time he got back, the cell was packed with imps, several of them singed a bit by the fiery arrival of those who came later. Jori was standing in front of the cell, telling the story of Tallash’s demise with some obvious exaggerations. The imps chattered excitedly as he entered, a few even mustering a cheer.

  “He’s dead?!”

  “Is it true?”

  “What are they going to do?”

  “They’re lying!”

  "Shut up, they haven't even said anything yet!"

  “Quiet!” Ed bawled, and the noise level dropped to a more manageable level. “Tallash is dead. You can go look at his body if it makes you happy. Anybody who tries to take a poke at me or Jori there is going to get turned into jelly. Do we all understand each other?”

  A chorus of affirmatives and a few whimpers of “great one” sounded from the cell. Ed looked to Jori for confirmation. It was her show, technically. She nodded, but then held up a hand to stop him.

  “You are free now.” she began, clearly unsure of what to say. “Free of obligation."

  The imps stopped chattering, suddenly paying rapt attention.

  “The Duergar will summon you again, probably, but nothing is binding you to them. You can tell them no! All they can do is send you back. You can let the mortals bind you into service for their scraps, if you like. You can try to make your own way here, if you want, until the next powerful demon takes you or the fiends snatch you. You can try to survive alone, or you can help the great ones fight over barren foraging grounds as they always have.” Jori spat on the ground to illustrate what she thought of these conventional options. “Or, we can work together. We can visit the mortal planes without serving as fodder in a stupid war, and enjoy all the nice things there! Tasty food, interesting things to see, and friends. Mortal friends! We can forage for ourselves, and help the spawnlings grow. Souls are sparse here, but so are those who can threaten us. I'm not asking you to submit – I’m asking you to choose.”

  The imp nodded to herself, then at Ed. Then, she whirled and held up her little bag. “Oh, and I have food! No bugs for our pack.”

  It was a pretty good speech, Ed thought. For an imp, anyway. He sketched a couple of runes into the air, opening the enclosure. He held a shield spell prepared, just in case one tried to fling a fistful of hellfire into his face, but nothing happened. They spilled forth, milling around the cave. A few darted out the door, probably unwilling to trust Jori’s good intentions, but something like fifteen of them stayed put. It was hard to count them, running around like that.

  “Jori, when’s your next appointment with the Solicitors?” he called over the chatter. “I believe I’ve fulfilled the conditions of our little agreement.”

  The imp grinned up at him. “You did! It should be in a few hours – it’s hard to tell time exactly here, but I’ll get you home.”

  Ed sat down in his usual spot and pulled out his pipe and his bag of tobacco, letting the familiar motions calm him. He hadn't wanted to admit it, even to himself, but he'd been worried that Jori would try to rope him into another scheme. She had a lot of leverage right now. When he looked up, smoke beginning to curl up from the bowl, Jori was standing directly in front of him, watching him with clear apprehension.

  “You’ll let me keep my job, right? On the payroll? It’s not my fault I can’t show up. The Solicitors are illegally interfering with my duties, alright?”

  Ed chuckled. “Relax, I won’t ruin Josie’s case. Besides, that would be illegal termination. I signed the damned contract, didn’t I?”

  ***

  The wrenching sensation lasted only for a second, then the stink of sulfur and dirty water was replaced by herbal smoke. Sage, lavender… something citrus? Did they actually need that, or was it just to improve the atmosphere?

  Letting go of her passenger, Jori shook out her hand. Nobody had warned her that she would have to hold Ed’s entire weight with her claws during the transition. She’d barely managed to snatch him as she felt the summoning take hold of her, and her grip hadn’t been that great.

  A middle-aged woman was doing the summoning today, with the assistance of Finn, the youngest of the Solicitors. Jori didn’t know her name, but she supposed it didn’t matter. The warlock took a step back in surprise, eyes wide. Then she smiled.

  “Archmage, welcome back!”

  “Phelia. Glad to see the place is still standing.” Ed took a deep breath and let out a sigh. “Where’s Radast?”

  “He’s in a meeting with the new Halfbridge General Labor Union right now, but you can wait for him if you like. He should be back soon.”

  Ed frowned. “The what?”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Phelia sighed. “It's a whole mess. Wages for unskilled laborers have collapsed with all the refugees coming in. Everybody needs to find a way to make ends meet, and some of the guilds are taking advantage by undercutting wages for everyone who isn’t protected by their charters.”

  “The refugees… from Loamfurth?” Ed asked mildly as he stepped out of the summoning circle.

  “Yes?”

  “I just wanted to be sure. I'm still catching up to current events.”

  Phelia furrowed her brow in confusion, but dropped the issue. “It’s nothing for you to worry about, I’m sure. You can use our waiting room, or you’re welcome to come back another time. I’m sure you’re eager to get some fresh air.”

  Ed chuckled mirthlessly. “You have no idea.”

  The Solicitor turned to Jori.

  “Dzhorianath, I believe that concludes our business for the time being. Thank you for your cooperation in this matter. We will summon you again when and if Solicitor Josie’s case necessitates it. Good day.”

  “Hey, wait a minute!” Jori interrupted as the woman moved to banish her again. “What about the supplies?”

  She stopped and raised her eyebrows. “What? The archmage has been returned – I believe that means that portion of the agreement has been fulfilled.”

  “Oh, just give her the damned bag. Don’t be an ass.” Ed grabbed the bundle on the floor and tossed it to her. Jori caught it and held it protectively. They’d tried to shortchange her with a technicality! “Do you have any idea what a shithole that place is?” Ed growled at the woman, who looked back and forth between the two of them uncertainly. “I’m not leaving one of my people in there without so much as a godsdamned snack.”

  “Fine,” the warlock sighed, nicking her finger with a small pen knife and bending down to touch the summoning circle. “But you get to explain it to the boss if he says anything.”

  Ed scoffed. “I’ve got a few things to say to him myself.”

  Then Jori was falling down and back through nothing. It was an uncomfortable sensation, though at least it was quick. The familiar sulfurous odor of the hells filled her nose even before she could see again.

  The cave was empty now – all the imps had been sent out to forage. Those who had remained looked to her for leadership, or at least some kind of guidance on what to do next. They needed to work together. On Ed’s recommendation, Jori had split them into three groups, each led by one of the bigger imps: Maladzhoth, Xoriath and Serionoth. They would find errant souls and teach the spawnlings to feed – something they would have been forbidden to do without Tallash’s explicit permission before. Assuming she could get them to control their own appetites, of course.

  Only those who performed some special service would have been allowed to grow under the normal hierarchy. Jori didn’t ask what those three had done to impress Tallash. This was just how it was in the hells.

  Until now.

  ***

  The expedition emerged from the shadow of the trees onto open fields, sloping gently down toward the biggest lake Bernt had ever seen. Lake Sul was the largest body of water in the entire country, and he could barely make out the hazy shapes of mountains on the far side, leagues in the distance.

  Much closer, a city lay wedged between the lake and the river that fed it – Lochholme. They’d reached the Sul river the day before and more or less followed it here. At Hannis’ urging, they’d traveled quickly, eating on the go and making camp late. The Duergar would have to stop to resummon the demons, and they most likely wouldn't be able to follow them from below in a straight line. The trek was exhausting, cold and miserable. Still, Bernt ringed the camp with cold fire each night, and on the second night, Leirin began sowing some kinds of pointy, star-shaped seeds outside the ring to add another layer of defense. But they hadn’t been attacked again and now, three days later, here they were.

  They reached the gates before dusk, where a guard gave them directions to an inn. They headed toward it, getting a feel for the place as they did. It was, at a glance, a beautiful city with imposing architecture, grand monuments and straight, level streets that spoke of obvious city planning. Despite that, though, it was clear that Lochholme had seen better days. The steady but modest trickle of traffic looked anemic on the broad, well-worn streets. More than a few of the outwardly beautiful buildings stood obviously abandoned with doors and windows left gaping open.

  Despite that, people here moved with purpose, their heads held high. The inn was an expensive looking place, and Bernt saw the avaricious glint in the innkeeper’s eye as he took in the priests’ carriage. Torvald was probably saving himself quite a bit of money by walking with the guards instead of sitting in there with the priests. He, along with most of the adventurers, bought beds in shared rooms – the cheapest available at a silver mark per night. In a place like this, even those would be clean and comfortable. The priests, Leirin, and Regin were accustomed to better accommodations, though, and they opted for their own rooms.

  They’d made good time, and would be staying a few days to recover and plan for the rest of the trip. Now that they knew they were being tracked, they would need to prepare for future demon attacks. A few adventurers with debilitating burn scarring would need to be put on a boat to Teres for treatment. The ranger whose leg had nearly been burned off would be going with them as well in hopes of getting help from the Artificer’s Guild there. He was going to lose the limb, no matter what, and they might be able to produce a suitable prosthetic – otherwise his adventuring days were over.

  Bernt’s group went to find something to eat, sampling the offerings of the local street vendors. The city was more cosmopolitan than Halfbridge, despite its smaller size. There were large numbers of dwarves and gnomes, and far more goblins than back home. Vendors hawked a broad variety of fish dishes, many of which were garnished or cooked with various kinds of fruits, despite the season. The local delicacy, a particular lake fish called a “garron”, was baked with candied peaches in large clay ovens that were set into some street corners and sold to passersby in lopsided, single-use clay bowls. Nirlig had to try it, of course.

  “It doesn’t sound like it should work – it shouldn’t work. But you have to try this!” he gushed, holding the bowl out to Torvald, who gave it a skeptical look. “The juice caramelizes on the salted fish and the flavor is just incredible. Try it!”

  Elyn leaned in and sniffed at it, then looked contemplatively at the vendor before going to get her own bowl. Bernt had opted for some pickled fish on a bun, sold by a surly looking human woman – you couldn’t go wrong with something simple, and he was too hungry to be adventurous tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

  As Elyn returned, he caught sight of a small sign and cleared his throat.

  “Listen, guys. I need to drop by the Mages’ Guild to send news back home. And I want to get a look at their library as soon as possible – they might have more information on sorcery.” He glanced over at Uriah, meeting his eyes. “You should come along, actually. If we can find the right information, we might be able to do something about your… condition.”

  Uriah looked away and then coughed in embarrassment. “I… ah.. I can’t. I’m not a guild member.”

  Bernt blinked. “You’re not?”

  “No. Membership isn’t required to be an Underkeeper. And the guild can’t help me, regardless," he added defensively. "It would have been an enormous waste of gold.”

  “Right. Well, you should come, anyway,” Bernt insisted. “We can ask them where you can go to get that staff fixed. If you want it done in time, it’s best to get started on that as soon as possible.”