Rune Seeker

A short time later, Hiral peeked around the corner of the wide chimney on the roof, the cold rain running down his face as he peered across the street. There was another small burst of movement: the wight he’d spotted leaping from one roof to the next. It paused on the corner, head swiveling as it looked for something, then darted along the edge until it reached the end of the building and jumped another alley.

“Think it saw us?” Right asked, hidden behind the stone chimney with Hiral.

“I don’t think acting is on its ability list,” Hiral said. “If it saw us, we’d have arrows flying our way.”

“That’s the third one we’ve spotted so far,” Right said. “They’re looking for us?”

“Probably,” Hiral said. “They know—or at least suspect—where we came from, since they’re blocking off the tunnel. And they have to know we’re not dead. C’mon, now’s our chance.” He ducked out from behind the chimney, then jogged low along the roof. A quick peek over the edge showed the alley empty, so he hopped over it with Right on his heels. “That should be the building they’re in right there, yeah? The Party Interface directions aren’t as precise as I’d hoped.” Hiral pointed at the tall building ahead of him. They’d passed what had to be the pedway he’d destroyed a while back, so this…

“I think so. Seventh floor,” Right said, looking back the way they’d come. “Coast still seems clear.”

“Let’s hope it’s the same inside,” Hiral said quietly before jogging across the roof and hopping through one of the wide windows. “Seena, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Hiral,” Seena said. “You close?”

“I think we’re in the building,” Hiral said. “We’re on our way up now. Tell Yanily not to stab the first thing he sees when we get there.”

“I can’t make any promises,” Yanily said. “Still not convinced you aren’t undead.”

“None of us are undead, Yanily,” Seena said.

“Which is exactly what an undead spy would say.”

“I’ve got to… uh… turn off the voice chat now,” Hiral said. “Gotta focus on my surroundings.”

“You just don’t want to listen to Yanily,” Nivian pointed out. “I wish I could mute him, too, but he’s standing right next to me.”

Hiral shook his head and tuned out the chat. Just a thought, and it was silent until he needed it again. The Party Interface ability was impressive on all kinds of levels.

“Found the stairs,” Right said, waving Hiral down to the end of the hall.

Hiral jogged in that direction, eyes peeled. They were a floor lower than what the party had moved on before, but other than the wights, things had been too quiet.

Pausing at the entrance, Hiral glanced up and down the stairs. No movement. One heartbeat, two, three, he listened for any sign of life—or unlife. A scuff on the floor, the clatter of bones, or the soft rub of an arrow being drawn.

Nothing.

A small gesture of his hand, and he went into the stairwell, Right behind him. Still nothing, so he padded up the stairs as quietly as he could, pausing just before the landing and peeking around. Clear. He moved up the next flight, repeating the process until he counted himself on the seventh floor—each staircase getting longer and longer as they climbed—and moved to the door leading out to the hall.

A quick inspection of the door showed it undamaged, and it would push out. Carefully and quietly, he eased the door open, listening intently and peering through the open space as soon as there was room. The hall was clear where he could see, and much more would reveal him to anybody looking at the door anyway, so he pushed it open and swept out, RHC in his other hand.

“Clear,” he said quietly to Right, who followed out a second later. “Back corner, they said? Something about a forge.” His eyes ran up above the doors along the hall at the different store signs. There, at the far end, was what had to be a faded hammer and anvil stamped on an old sign. “That must be it.”

Still watching up and down the halls as he moved—there weren’t any windows, thankfully—Hiral reached the forge. Immediately off the hall looked to be some kind of front shop, shelves and display cases broken and empty, with a heavy door nestled in the back. It stood closed, and just by looking at it, there was no way he’d be forcing it open if it was locked. The riveted metal practically reeked of solid, and after one more look down the hall, Hiral tiptoed into the front shop.

“Seena, I think we’re outside the door,” he said. “Want to open it up?”

“What’s the password?” Yanily asked before Seena could respond.

“The password is going to be my boot up your ass,” Seena hissed. “Go back to your window. And remember your promise!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Yanily mumbled, but something clunked beyond the heavy metal door, and it swung in.

“Hey, fancy meeting you here,” Seena said, waving Hiral in as she stepped to the side.

“Well, I was in the neighborhood,” Hiral said, quickly walking through into the backroom.

As soon as Right was in there with him, Seena closed the door behind them and gently lowered a metal bar as thick as Hiral’s leg to brace the door.

Looking away from the door, Hiral inspected the rest of the room. Definitely a forge at one point, and a big one, at that. There were at least six large anvils he could see, as well as three heavy brick forges. Pegs and racks lined the wall between the windows—Why are there windows that big when this room had a huge, locked door?—but they all stood bare. Like the shop out front, the forge had either been looted or emptied.

“Yeah, we can’t figure out why there are windows in here either,” Seena said, obviously seeing where Hiral was looking at the far end of the room. “We’ve been making sure to stay out of sight since you mentioned that wight on the roof. Even Yanily.” She pointed at where the spearman sat against the wall under the windows.

“Hey, Yan,” Hiral said with a wave. “See, not undead.”

“Well, obviously,” Yanily said, his spear perched on top of his crossed legs, and he closed his eyes.

“What’s he doing?” Hiral asked Seena quietly.

“Says it’s easier for him to absorb solar energy by the window,” Seena said as lightning flashed outside.

“How’s that going, anyway?” Hiral asked as Seena led him over to where the others sat… around a picnic.

Nivian had laid out a blanket full of sandwiches—at least eight different kinds, from the looks of things—and each of the party members had a small plate piled high with food. There were even bottles of some kind of drink, and small glasses.

“Solar absorption is slow,” Seena said, sitting down in the open space between Nivian and Seeyela, then patting the ground beside her. “Figured we’d take the chance to eat, see if it helped recharge us any faster.”

“It isn’t,” Nivian said as Hiral dropped down beside Seena, while Right went over to talk to Left, who stood looking down at something on a table. “If you need a buff, though, I’d suggest the BLT. Adds a bonus to your dexterity and attunement. Whatever you eat first is the buff you’ll get, so feel free to fill your plate after that.”

“Dexterity and attunement?” Hiral said, picking up one of the sandwiches. “Sounds perfect for me.”

“Why do you think I made it?” Nivian asked.

“Ah, of course,” Hiral said, taking a bite. Buffs aside, the sandwich was good, the freshness of the vegetables somehow pushing back the constant heaviness of undeath all around him.

“You got hit by something?” Wule asked, nodding at Hiral and pointing at his own head.

“Yeah. Almost took my head off, but… obviously not.” The constant rain had rinsed away most of the dried blood, but the wound must still be black. “Got my shoulder too,” he added, showing the slice through his raincoat.

“Let me get started on that, then,” Wule said, and he and Seeyela swapped places after a nod between them.

“Started?” Hiral asked.

“The black coloration seems to be from something called necrotic damage. Nivian’s leg was full of it from the arrow he took.” Wule’s solar energy pulsed out of him and warmed Hiral. Unlike when Wule had previously healed him, though, the energy reached the shoulder injury, but seemed to slow down there, circling like it was looking for a way in. “The necrotic damage doesn’t add a debuff I can remove, but it does seem to hinder healing.”

“Hinder? How much?” Hiral asked, concentrating his senses on the solar energy swirling around his wound. Around and around it went, but it wasn’t a complete circle, nor did it follow the edges of the wound. If anything, it was like the energy followed a winding path Hiral couldn’t see. That, or Wule was drunk. What’s in those bottles?

“I wish there was an easy answer to that,” Wule went on, pushing more energy into Hiral. “It seems different for every injury. I’ve just got to keep pushing healing in until the energy breaks through. Once it’s inside, it heals up like normal, but getting past the outer ring of necrotic energy is the tough part.”

Hiral just gave a noncommittal grunt, but there was something familiar with the way the energy was moving. Yes, it was a winding path as it moved around the wound, but it followed that same path over and over. There, there, there… He was able to predict where the solar energy would bash against the necrotic barrier and attempt to break through, always in the same spots over and over. Other areas, it would completely ignore as the pathway took the energy in a wide loop.

Pathway? Of course.

“Wule, do Growers move all their solar energy through the root system within your bodies?” Hiral asked.

“Not all,” Wule said. “Most, though. It’s the most efficient way to get it where we need. It’s our PIM, after all.”

“Shapers primarily use their Meridian Lines,” Hiral said, “but not exclusively. The Lines carry most of the power, but if you look at Right, you’ll see they only cover part of his arm and hand, for example.”

“So?” Wule asked, though he was intently listening without lessening the solar energy pushing on Hiral’s wound.

“Haven’t you ever wondered why he doesn’t break his hand with every punch?” Hiral asked.

“Uh, magic?” Nivian asked, but he was listening too.

“The Meridian Lines carry the solar energy fast and strong, but they don’t reach everywhere. Think of them like the main streets through a city. Like the one outside that window.”

“Right has giant, shambling undead in his Meridian Lines?” Yanily asked.

“Shush, Yan,” Seena said quietly.

“After traveling along the lines,” Hiral continued, “the energy moves through smaller, invisible solar energy channels or pathways. Think of them like the side streets and alleys between buildings. It’s those smaller channels that reinforce Right’s hand and arm so he doesn’t ruin himself every time he hits something. Back to the analogy, the main street brings the goods in—the mass of solar energy—while the side streets disperse it where they’re needed: the buildings—or, in Right’s case, the muscles, bones, and ligaments of his fist. And, since he doesn’t have Meridian Lines on his left side, he can’t use the energy over there at all. Well, not very much, at least.”

“What’s this have to do with the healing?” Wule said, but there was a catch in his voice. “Oh, you’re saying the healing is following those channels? Basically, they’re taking the wrong streets to get to the building—your injury—and they keep finding walls instead of the door?”

“Yeah, exactly. They’re only taking the first channel they find. I’m no expert, but I studied a bit with my sister—Artists need to know all about them too. Anyway, if you control which channels the energy is flowing into, instead of dousing the whole area, so to speak, you might find it easier to get past the necrotic wall.”

“You can feel all that?” Wule asked.

“It is my body,” Hiral said. “Might also be related to my solar ranks.”

“I’ll give it a try. Don’t complain if I explode your arm.”

Hiral’s attention snapped from the circulating energy to the healer. “Can you even do that?”

Wule was too lost in concentration to answer.

“Can he do that? Can he?” Hiral quickly asked Seena, and she just shrugged. “Maybe we should practice on Nivian?” Hiral’s suggestion earned him a scowl from the tank, and then he felt a pressure in his shoulder release like a dam breaking.

What little pain and stiffness had lingered since he’d received the minor injury vanished in a flash, and Wule smiled in front of him.

“Wow, that was much easier,” he said. “Time for your head.”

“Are you sure you should be practicing on something so…?” Hiral started, but the pressure release happened almost immediately. “Ah, you got the hang of it?”

“Once you explained there were channels… yeah. I don’t think I can do that in the middle of a fight, but definitely when we can sit down and focus on it. Much more efficient. Thanks, Hiral. Actually, maybe I should practice doing that in combat anyway…”

“No!” Nivian and Seena said at the same time.

“Fine,” Wule whined.

“Anyway, solar energy?” Hiral asked, rolling his shoulder comfortably. The stiffness really was gone, just like with normal healing. “How is everybody doing on it now?”

“Ideally, another hour of sitting on our hands,” Seena said, the frustration obvious in her voice. She wanted to be moving. “That should get most of us to at least a respectable level if it came to a fight.”

“That’s not too bad,” Hiral said. “We can use the time to figure out the Shambling Graveyard’s path. I bet this is a great vantage point to watch… as long as we stay hidden from anybody else watching.”

“Already done,” Left said, turning to face the group. “The giant should be passing us…” He trailed off as Hiral felt a small tremor in the floor. “Right on time,” Left said more quietly. “It will be past us quickly, but on the same street for several minutes. It takes it thirty minutes to do a full loop, if nothing distracts it.

“I suggest we leave when it’s furthest from us, so either in forty-five minutes or seventy-five minutes, approximately.”

“Which gives us about fifteen minutes to get to the dungeon?” Hiral asked.

“More like twelve,” Left said. “The giant would have a sightline a little earlier. We might be able to push that to thirteen if it sees us and we can outrun it.”

“We can’t outrun it,” Hiral said. “Not if we don’t want it to destroy whatever building the dungeon is in. It can’t see us.”

“We can move quickly anyway,” Seena said. “Left was telling us the dungeon should be less than ten minutes from here, though we’ll be on the street since the buildings vary too much in height.”

“No roof-running?” Hiral asked, and Seena just shook her head. Probably for the best, really—the street would be level and much easier for the group at large.

“As soon as…” Seena started, but she cut off at a scratch like metal on metal from the heavy door leading to the outer shop. A finger went to her lips instantly, silencing the group, and then a long, slow squeal of something dragging along the outside of the door echoed through the room.

“The door’s thick,” Wule whispered. “We should be fine.”

CLANG! Something hit the door so hard the room shook, and a fist-sized indentation appeared on the heavy metal.