Broker

Felwinter leaned against the wall, her eyes narrowed as she watched Craftsman work. The chamber they were in was huge - a partially-domed, thirty-foot ceiling that stretched out for about the length of a football field. Every five feet or so, a massive crystal grew out of a root of almost fluid-looking calcified stone from the ceiling. Her lip twitched as she watched something move inside of one of the crystals, and she turned her attention back on Craftsman.

“Just get the job done, nerd,” she growled. “I don’t have all day.”

The brown-haired artificer snapped her head up towards her and squinted. Her lip curled back in a sneer of distaste before she turned back to the laptop set precariously atop a card table that looked painfully mundane compared to their cavernous surroundings. She tapped away. “You may not care, but I prefer to do my job well, Felwinter,” she hissed, her fingers moving like lightning over the keyboard. She pulled back after a moment and tapped the enter key, the screen rolling with images that Felwinter couldn’t make out from this distance.

“Are you done yet? His Majesty gave me a job, idiot. Just get me there,” she growled, tapping her foot as a ring of black ice formed around her ring finger. She held her hand out and examined it thoughtfully before flicking her eyes towards her as a white crystal formed on it, a pained scream coming from the stone. She flinched just once but didn’t react further. Her lip twitched up in a smile. She opened her mouth and then snapped it shut when one of the crystals overhead began to glow.

Finally.

The crystal trembled and then shattered, ichorous liquid pouring out onto the floor that quickly sizzled and burned away. What remained was a man with fur covering his shoulders and arms, his eyes shut in silent slumber. Organic looking tubes attached to the base of his skull and other locations on his skin where vital organs were located beneath. With a series of pops, the tubes detached, and the man fell from the ceiling, landing with a thud. He didn’t move. Her eyes slowly turned towards Craftsman. “You better not-”

“Ourgh…”

Her eyes snapped back to the man. He was pulling himself to his feet, swaying a little as his eyes fluttered open, glowing red and crackling with power. He shuddered and popped his neck, long, claw-like fingers flexing as he opened his mouth and bore rows of hound-like teeth. He looked like a goddamn werewolf. Her lips curled up in a smirk as her gaze dipped lower.

“This one retains memories,” Craftsman said. “It still doesn’t have…”

She flicked her stare towards the body-hopper, annoyed she was still there. “...a soul? No kidding.” She shrugged and turned her attention back to the Rift-Amalgam. “Not a bad product this time around though, Craftsman. I’m impressed.”

“I am thrilled by your praise,” Craftsman said dryly and tapped a key. The man-monster shuddered and twitched, red lightning dancing across his skin. “Like the other ones, his ability is currently anchored in him as a monster’s powers might be. He will get you where you need to go and fight as necessary. Attempt to engage him in conversation…” Craftsman turned her way with a molten stare. “...and nothing else.”

She sniffed and shrugged. “Fine.” She walked over to the ‘man’ and crossed her arms, looking up into his eyes. They were attentive, present, but there was no spark there. It was eerie, not that she hated that expression. She grinned. “Got somewhere I need to be, doggie. You gonna take me?” she asked.

“Yes. I will take you,” his voice came out with a predatory growl and no inflection, utterly without feeling. “Where do you wish to go, Felwinter?”

Her eyes brightened. “Oh, Craftsman, you’ve outdone yourself. Keep him just like this; he’s perfect.”

“Enough, Felwinter. I have gear for you too. His Majesty insisted that I make you something like Riot’s gloves. Get over here and take it before you go,” the artificer ground out. Felwinter shrugged and shot the monster a wink before turning to walk towards Craftsman and his card table. Craftsman had one hand in the pocket of her brown, tailored slacks and another extended with what looked like a rod of steel in her hand.

Felwinter snatched it, looking the rod over. Her lip twitched. “...The hell is this? A stick?”

“A handle for your maul,” Craftsman said. “Based on the souls-to-power function of your ability. When you activate the rod, it and anything attached to it will be reinforced and the force it exerts on impact strengthened by the number of souls you possess. Not by much for each soul, otherwise, it would burn them, but…”

Felwinter chuckled and turned it over, black ice sliding up her arm and onto the rod. An axe head formed at the operating end, and she turned it over in her hands. “Not a problem, nerd,” she said. “Perfect, what’s the uptime?”

“Ten continuous minutes during a twenty-four hour period else it will start burning through souls, so don’t waste it. I’m still working on the other tool for you,” Craftsman said and turned back to her laptop. “Now get out of here; His Majesty gave you a mission, remember? I have work to do ahead of Kaidan’s recovery.” He paused and glanced back at her. “When you return, you are helping as well.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Me?”

Craftsman glanced at the Rift-Amalgam and back at her. “You. We’re almost there. It’s time to make an attempt.”

Her lips dropped. “I told you that it’s impossible for me to-”

Craftsman turned on her this time, and her eyes glowed with molten fury. She bared her teeth and the ground beneath her feet shuddered and groaned, cracks of red spreading from Craftsman’s footprints. “His Majesty doesn’t care, Felwinter. Figure it out, or I will build an artifact to attach you to,” she snarled. “Your incompetence won’t slow my progress down. Nothing slows progress.”

Black ice spread from her feet and hissed against his red light. “Watch yourself, nerd…”

They stared one another down before Felwinter scoffed and turned away, resting the rod on her shoulder and stalking over to the Rift-Amalgam. “Fine. I’ll figure something out,” she snapped and reached into her pocket, pulling the note from Otis out and holding it up to the monster’s face. “Take me here, creature, hurry up.”

The amalgam snapped his eyes towards the paper and they glowed. His lips peeled back in a snarl, and he turned, ripping his clawed hands against the air. There was a red crackle of light, and the air tore open, revealing one of his signature portals. He grabbed the sides and pulled it open wider with a grunt before pointing. “I will follow,” he rumbled.

Felwinter glanced at the portal and then back at Craftsman before marching towards the open rift. She raised her hand in a one-finger salute before passing through. Reality bent, the air ripped from her chest, and then she landed on the ground, sunlight suddenly oppressive against her eyes. She raised her hand and squinted as a rumble shook the ground. She blinked a few times and squinted against the light, peering towards what looked like a castle in the distance on the side of a mountain. No, a Monastery. Smoke rose from one side, and a figure leaped from it, floating in the air as rays of light shot up from within to try to strike the figure.

The Rift-Amalgam stepped through the portal behind her mutely, and she grinned. “Let’s go grab His Majesty’s new recruit,” she hissed and started walking.

—

Ishtar floated alongside Erebus down a hall leading further into his palace. “You’ve caused quite a stir,” she said with a light chuckle. “The Pandora Committee is making every move to stem your expansion. Have you considered slowing down?”

The big man had his arms crossed behind his back, his eyes forward even as his lips twitched up into a smile. “Ah yes, the border camps. I’m aware that the Committee is planning on slipping heroes across the border rather than using portals. They’re cautious,” he chortled. “They must think I know when a portal is forming.”

She raised an eyebrow behind her helmet. “Do you?”

He grinned viciously. “Within my territory? Yes.” He glanced her way. “There’s a bug here in Cairo that has been hopping from place-to-place for the past day. Just one, I am guessing a villain that doesn’t know better,” he said thoughtfully and shook his head. “I feel it every time he opens a portal and steps through.”

Ishtar chuckled. “Fascinating.”

Our senses act similarly to a domain within a short range, but perhaps this is a power we can access ourselves? she thought. We did nab Grandeur and convert it into our wings.

The bones of the ability remain, although they’ve been integrated, but I suppose it is worth trying. I would suggest not making the attempt within Erebus’ territory, though, Erina’s voice, layered with her own, responded.

Heh, fair enough, she chuckled and glanced forward as they approached a dead end in the hallway. Charon slid to a stop just a few paces back with Companion next to him. The wall was smooth and flat, and the only evidence of anything unique about this dead end was a large, rectangular garden piece - a rectangular box packed with soil and filled with a variety of flowers and plants. Above it was an oversized portrait of the man himself. “Your vault is here?”

Don’t tell me it’s behind the portrait… Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn ɴovelfire.net

“Yes,” he chuckled and approached the planter, running his hand along the side before grabbing its rim. His eyes glowed, and a series of clicks sounded inside. He grunted and pulled up. The planter rose about an inch off the ground before he rotated it out of the way, leaving no scuff marks as a staircase was revealed, hidden beneath the frame of the planter and going down under where the portrait hung.

An aesthetically healthy compromise, Erina commented. It speaks to me.

Oh, now you make jokes, Sonya thought back.

Erebus chuckled and stepped back, gesturing. “After you.”

She turned to him and drifted towards the stairs, lowering her elevation as she regarded him. “Aren’t you the gentleman?” she teased and started going down, glancing up at the base of the planter as she descended. “Electromagnets and a reinforced rotation rod. Brilliant.”

“The lock requires Midas Touch to open it,” Erebus chortled as he followed her down. Behind them, Charon’s heels and cane clicked on the stairs while the light tap of Companions shoes added a feathery counterpoint.

“Electromagnets, huh? How strong?” Charon asked.

Erebus glanced back at him. “Strong enough to resist my human form’s strength, friend Charon. A request sent to Technocrat through Mephisto.”

Mephisto.I wonder how the appeal hearing went, Ishtar thought absently as she descended the steps and stopped at the landing below. A door sat before them, wrought of post-Pandora metals and glistening with electronic security - farar more advanced than a magnet-locked planter.

Erebus strode forward as Ishtar was joined by her companions, and she lowered her voice. “Charon,” she hissed. “That portal user outside, at the nearest opportunity… can you?”

Charon cracked a grin. “Consider it done.”

The enormous doors to the vault shuddered and pulled to the side. Ishtar’s eyes widened behind her helmet. She had expected more gold, but while there was some, it was a faint glimmer compared to the sheer elegance of the place. The entire room was like the interior of a jewelry box. Floors, walls, and ceiling coated in a black, velvet-like material that made it seem like a void. Podiums and display cases lined the space in neat rows, each of them laden not with jewelry or gold ingots, but acquisitions from dungeons. Treasure, real treasure.

Charon whistled appreciatively as he strode in first, twirling his cane and resting it on his shoulder. “Now this is a vault.”

“HAH! I knew you’d approve!” Erebus chortled. “My boys seem to think I am obsessed with gold. The throne room makes an excellent cover.”

Ishtar glanced his way. “You’re playing your sons?”

Erebus shot her a grin. “Of course I am! All of them are as ambitious as I am!” he laughed and marched inside. “If they cannot see through my act of playing the fool, then they aren’t worthy of inheriting what I don’t leave Saleh.”

Charon chuffed out a chuckle. “Seems to me like that boy can’t see through it either. Practically steamin’ out the ears earlier.”

Erebus shook his head. “Just a worried son, that’s all. He’s old enough to discuss his inheritance. Perhaps after the party,” Erebus said thoughtfully. “I won’t tell him everything, of course. An ambitious boy like him doesn’t need to know that he will inherit my powers upon my death,” he snorted and patted his waist, looking around. His eyes sparkled. “Ah! Yes, here we are…”

He sauntered over and stopped next to one of the display cases, running his fingers over the surface. Ishtar floated over to peek. Inside was a pair of articulated mannequin hands clasped together as if in prayer. There were no wrists or arms attached. Just palms and fingers. Ishtar squinted. “...A little macabre.”

“From a Rare dungeon,” he said with a laugh. “They can be bound, float, and perform tasks that the bonded can perform, though they are of little use to a warrior,” he said. “In the air they are rather slow.”

Ishtar pursed her lips behind her helmet, and she glanced towards him. “And why are you showing me these?”

He grinned back at her. “A nice gift for a very busy lover,” he replied with a casual gesture.

Her eyebrows rose, and she looked down at it again. She narrowed her eyes and turned her head slowly towards him. He kept his eyes on her even as his smile widened conspiratorially. Behind her, Companion stirred slightly, and Charon went very still. He glanced towards them only fractionally before meeting her gaze again.

“...How did you figure it out?” she asked.

He chuckled. “There has never been a woman I couldn’t figure out.” Her eyebrow rose further. “Especially one with similar tastes to myself.”

Silence hung, and for several seconds she just stared at him. Then, she burst into laughter, floating up a bit and grabbing her ribs. She shook her head and waved at him. “Ha ha ha! That’s great! You are a madman! I love it!” She slapped her knee before returning to the height she’d been floating at. She reached up and dismissed her helmet, letting her hair flutter back. She grinned at him, crossing her legs and squinting. “Can’t have them all, can we?”

He snorted. “We can certainly try.”

They both threw their heads back and laughed. Marta sighed.

Ishtar raised her eyebrow. “I was pretty reckless around the time I met you.”

He nodded. “You did leave a few breadcrumbs, and a bit of looking into the timing of events helped clear it up. Still, it is a shock to see your face in that armor, though,” he admitted with a wry grin. “Glad my little ‘test’ paid off.”

She glanced towards the gifts and squinted. “You do love doting on your wives. A talent for gift-giving,” she said thoughtfully. They’d need gloves to look less disturbing, but he isn’t wrong that it would be a nice gift for Carla, she thought. I could also… have that conversation that I keep avoiding while I give it to her.

Faced First Wind but can’t find the spine to propose properly, Erina chuckled.

Hush you, Sonya snorted, but there was no heat to her censure. She nodded slowly to Erebus. “You are too kind to me, Erebus. Thank you.”

“I have another,” he said, wagging his finger and marched over to another display. This one contained a pile of paper-bound books. Ishtar froze, her eyes growing even wider. He glanced her way and noticed her hesitation, his smile going wide. “Yes, a small collection of cultivation journals from over a dozen dungeons within my territory.”

She rested her fingers on the glass, her claws tapping against it. “...They’re perfect.”