Outsiders 7.3

The Wolf in the Arena, Part 3

When Arden stated his intentions to his students, List found herself wondering, not for the first time, if the man lived in the same world as the rest of them. 

That was the only explanation for why he could suggest breaking into the army's camp outside Shadefall and springing the werewolf that he'd just beaten the shit out of with a completely straight face. As if there wasn't a single thing insane about what he was suggesting.

Then again, what did it say about her and Valerie that they were both going along with it?

"I attempted to negotiate with the army on the matter, of course," Arden said. "But they were less than receptive to the idea of me speaking with the monster, or the idea that it could be reasoned with at all. Things grew worse when the officer attempted to use that King's Authority ability to dismiss me. From their reaction, you would think being an outsider to Xykesh is outright illegal."

"It certainly doesn't endear you to the locals. Learned that lesson the hard way," List muttered. "Which is utter dragonshit, by the way. I've literally lived my entire life in Xykesh."

"I mean, unless you're actually two years old, you must not have," Valerie pointed out. "Otherwise, the King's Authority thing would have worked on—wait a minute. When we met, you told me you were nineteen. How do you know how old you are if you have amnesia?"

List met Valerie's questioning gaze for all of two seconds. "Arden, do you have an actual plan for this little caper, or are we just improvising?"

"You don't actually know, do you?"

List continued to ignore her.

For his part, Arden was eager to answer. "It's a fairly straightforward infiltration. Luckily for us, it would seem the Lochmire province is experiencing a time of peace, as from what I observed earlier today, the security standards of the army's camp are severely wanting. Given the way their camp is arranged, along with some general best practices of a military encampment, I've narrowed down the location of our man—er, beast, to somewhere near the transports, toward the center."

The army's camp consisted mostly of a collection of tents, with a few hastily constructed wooden watchtowers on its perimeter and a tightly packed formation of wagons and parade floats on the side closest to the road. Night had already fallen by the time they made their approach, and Valerie took the lead as they crept forward through the shadows.

More than once, Valerie had to adjust the paper dragon mask she and the others were wearing, having snagged them at the tail end of the day's festivities just for this infiltration. They didn't intend to be spotted, but if they were, they wanted to avoid becoming wanted fugitives from the army. In the back of her mind, she wondered if the masks were somehow offensive to dragonbloods, though Kiva hadn't said anything.

The camp was surprisingly quiet. Though there were plenty of torches for light, there wasn't a single campfire. No chatter between soldiers, on-duty or otherwise, except distantly from somewhere near the center of camp. Actually, Valerie didn't see any off-duty urks relaxing anywhere around the camp.

None of this made any sense to Valerie. She'd been to war camps before, orcish and otherwise, on a different research trip with Dr. Siren in Antem. They'd all been full of activity, with soldier training, eating, arguing, and relaxing. These "urks" weren't just different from orcs. They were different from any army she'd ever encountered.

Still, it meant the only eyes they had to evade were the urks who were actively on guard duty, and they were easy to see and hear coming long before any of them were in danger of being spotted.

With only a few close calls, the trio were soon crouched behind a supply wagon with a clear view to space where the prisoner cages were being kept, already loaded back onto the floats. The goblin and quillbeast cages were empty now, but both Slaughter and the human prisoners were still in their cages, sound asleep. The werewolf looked to have already healed considerably from his fight with Arden, its burns diminished and patchy hair already starting to regrow. All in all, he was looking well—except for the six urks guarding his cage.

"Well shit," List muttered. "Now what?"

"Maybe we could create some kind of diversion? Lure them away?" Valerie suggested.

"Hold those thoughts for a moment," Arden instructed. "I need to make sure of something."

Closing his eyes and clasping his hand around his pendant, Arden reached out across the camp with his own soul, finding Slaughter's with relative ease. In the instant their selves touched, Arden felt a rush of anger, frustration, and pain. He tempered it with his own will, walling it off from himself while staying aware of it. Those were not his emotions.

When the link between souls became stable, Arden spoke inside his own mind.

"Wake up."

Inside the cage, the white werewolf's ears twitched. A moment later, his eyes opened just a crack. His nostril flared, and his body tensed.

"God-talker." Slaughter's voice rumbled in Arden's mind, transmitted by the link between their souls. "You . . . in my mind. But I . . . smell you."

"I'm close," Arden mentally confirmed. "I told you before, I want to have a conversation with you. About that badge on your armor, and where you obtained it."

Slaughter's ears twitched again. Suspicion came Arden's way, along with more curiosity. "Why . . . I talk . . . to you?"

"Because in exchange, I'm going to get you out of that cage."

"You . . . Hunter. Smell it . . .in our fight. Why . . . free me?"

"Because you know what a Hunter is. And I need to know how. And because when I let you out, you aren't going to kill any of the soldiers here, or any of the people in Shadefall."

"They put me . . . in cage. Made me . . . their sport."

"No killing. In fact, you're going to stay as far away from civilization as you can for the rest of your life," Arden insisted. "Because if you don't, if you hurt anyone else, I will find out, and I will kill you. You know that I can."

A low growl escaped from the werewolf's throat, and the urks closest to the werewolf's cage glanced over at the beast. Though he didn't move his body, Slaughter's eyes scanned the urks, then his cage.

". . . I . . . accept."

"Good."

Out loud, Arden said. "There. We have a deal."

"What? What are you on about?" List asked.

"List, Valerie, the two of you need to get to the far side of camp. Cause some kind of distraction if you can, but above all else, get clear. I'd prefer to spring Slaughter with the aid of some misdirection, but that cannot come at the cost of your safety. If you can't do anything without getting yourselves caught, don't risk it, just leave. I'll do without."

"Right. As your student, what percentage of your belongings am I entitled to when you get yourself killed?" List asked.

Arden made a shoo-ing gesture. "Go. Get it done or get out in the next five minutes. I'll free Slaughter then, or when the camp's distracted, whichever comes first."

"Your funeral," List said, before promptly slinking off into the darkness.

Valerie moved to follow, already knowing what kind of distraction List would go for and not wanting to get separated from her once the chaos unfolded. She hesitated for a second, eyes locking on her mentor.

Valerie had known her parents. They had been monster hunters, like her and Arden. But they had died in the line of duty when she was young. For the last ten years, Arden had been the closest thing she had to parent, and though he was capable, he wasn't invincible.

"Be careful, Dr. Siren."

He gave a dispassionate nod, acknowledging her concern, which she knew was the best she would get. Without another word between them, she hurried to catch up to List.

She found the hellborn darting between tents and clinging to the shadows with surprising ease. The girl was a natural when it came to stealth. That, or two years on her own had taught her the value of going unseen.

In no time at all, they were at the far side of the camp from the cages, only a short distance and a few tents from the edge of the camp itself.

"So, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" List asked.

"I'm assuming you're thinking of setting a bunch of tents on fire?"

"You know me so well."