Chapter 3: Part 7 - The Grave

Vasha’s feet were wet. They had been ever since entering Verdant Brink and the situation hadn’t improved since then.The dampness had soaked up her ankles and shins, whilst she was sweaty enough beneath her engineer’s pack that she might as well have fallen in a pond.

None of the Marauders were faring much better. Haki complained about the insects, Gull the rust on her daggers. Cirrus and Frostpaw looked equally dishevelled and mud-spattered. Roan, meanwhile, growled at anyone who spoke, though not even Grey tested his patience often. They were all too miserable for conversation.

Things had got only slightly better when they reached Auric Basin. There was a small camp on the other side of the pass from Verdant Brink, populated mostly by members of the Priory. Grey wanted to avoid them entirely, but Roan put his foot down; they needed rest and a chance to repair their weapons.

Grey looked like he was expecting one of those weapons to end up in his back, but for once, he didn’t argue.

They pressed on again as night fell. The camp had turned out to be a bare, uncomfortable place; none of them wanted to linger. Grey turned them east, following a narrow trail that wound deeper into the jungle.

“There are some kind of structures to the east. We heard about them from a Pact ranger we met,” he said, keeping his voice low. He sounded almost guilty as he added, “We didn’t go that far.”

They’d carried Artorius’ body as far as they dared, in other words, then buried him in the first suitable location. Vasha didn’t blame them. This jungle wasn’t friendly to anything that walked on two legs.

Still, it was nearly midnight by the time they halted, moonlight piercing the thick canopy in a line of silver bolts. Grey didn’t hesitate as he led them away from the trail, straight to a wall of rock.

“Here,” he said. “We buried him here.”

There was a moment of tense silence. Vasha scanned the ground, not seeing anything that looked like a grave – except there were a few scattered rocks amongst the undergrowth, not enough to cover a body, but perhaps a marker for something.

Roan growled and strode forward. “Couldn’t you have properly covered him? Would have kept the animals away.”

Grey’s lip curled. “Covered him with what? This place is nothing but trees and lizards. I’d like to have seen you do better.”

That caused another silence. Roan, after all, could have buried Artorius himself.

Gull was the first to speak. “Take as much time as you need, Roan. Haki and I will scout the area.”

Haki nodded, and before anyone could protest, the two norn melted into the undergrowth. Roan didn’t move; he might have been a grave marker himself, as still as hewn granite. Grey grunted and stalked off in the opposite direction to the norn – and Vasha followed.

She caught the charr on the other side of a grove of trees. He stood with his back to one of the trunks, eyes glinting in the moonlight. “I thought you’d be the one to make sure I didn’t run away,” he said. “You’ve been watching me like a hawk ever since the Silverwastes.”

“I have a question,” Vasha said, folding her arms. Grey didn’t scare her, but being in the jungle in the dead of night did. She needed to get this over with. “How did you get involved in Yinn’s game?”

“He hired me.”

“But how did he find you in the first place?” In other words: how did Yinn know so much about them? Gull and Haki hadn’t known the full story about Artorius and they’d been there on the night he died. Even Roan hadn’t recognised Grey. How could Yinn have pieced all this together?

Grey muttered something under his breath that Vasha didn’t think was very flattering, though she wasn’t sure who it was aimed at. A moment later, he spat, “He didn’t. I saw Roan in Rata Sum and asked around until I found out what he was doing there. I went to Yinn and persuaded him to let me take part.”

Vasha raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t supposed to be here?”

“Not as part of the puzzle. Yinn wasn’t keen on changing his plans, but I can be pretty persuasive.”

Vasha felt a wave of jubilation sweep over her. She didn’t care about Grey and how he’d got himself here. What really mattered was that Yinn hadn’t known all these secrets about Roan. He’d taken advantage of the opportunity Grey offered, because he had an eye for tactics – but he wasn’t all-seeing, just lucky.

Yinn’s luck wouldn’t hold up forever, though. Between the Marauders and the Valparis, they’d see to that.

She was about to tell Grey as much when a ferocious roar split the air – not from the charr, but from the direction of the grave. It took Vasha a moment to piece her thoughts together, to remember what else lived out here apart from bugs and raptors. Mordrem.

“Let’s go,” she snapped, but a glance over her shoulder told her Grey was gone. Vasha cursed under her breath, but she didn’t have time to look for him. Grey had done what he’d promised. If he wanted to brave Auric Basin on his own, that was his choice.

She scrambled back through the grove of trees, the sounds of fighting barely muffled by the undergrowth. The first thing she saw when she burst into the open was Roan, back against the cliff, grappling with some twisted Mordrem thing – and then another of them slammed into her from the side, throwing them both to the ground.

Vasha tried to wriggle backwards, but the Mordrem was across her legs, the weight of it pinning her down. She drew a pistol, firing into the creature’s head three times. It juddered, then went limp – but she was still trapped beneath its bulk.

Behind her, Roan roared in pain. The clearing was full of Mordrem, but they were all focused on the charr. Vasha scrabbled around her on the mossy ground, searching for anything to pull herself free. Her hand closed on the strap of her pack, abandoned in the shadow of the trees when she’d followed Grey.

Vasha ripped it open. Turrets tumbled into her lap. She threw them into the clearing, one after the other, their hinged metal legs automatically snapping into place. The first sprayed bullets almost before she had time to duck, catching many of the Mordrem off guard. The second took a moment to wind up before it engaged. Vasha felt the thump as it hit the ground, enough to pitch the dead Mordrem off her legs and throw the living ones off their feet.

Which was when the norn arrived.

Suddenly, the clearing was full of arrows and snarling fangs. Vasha retreated into the trees, slinging her pack over her shoulder and swapping her pistol for a rifle. By the time she emerged again, the fight was almost over. With a handful of well-placed bullets, she felled the last two Mordrem.

In the silence, all Vasha could hear was the sound of her own breath. Roan was bent over, but he didn’t look to be injured. Gull ran a hand through the blood splashed across Cirrus’ shoulder, but seemed satisfied it wasn’t the cat’s own.

“Grey?” she asked, as she straightened.

“Gone,” Vasha said.

She’d expected Roan to snarl at her, but he only said, “Good riddance. He won’t survive out here for long.”

Vasha tried to find some remorse at that, but she didn’t feel much of anything where Grey was concerned. He’d manipulated them, just as Yinn had. Why couldn’t anyone in this damn game just speak their mind?

“There are other teams in the area,” Gull said, pushing a Mordrem body aside with her foot. “All heading south.”

“And more Mordrem,” Haki added. “The sound of our fight might draw more of them here–”

“Or they might be able to smell the blood,” Roan said darkly. With an expression of distaste, he dragged two Mordrem bodies away from Artorius’ grave. For a moment, they all stared at it, nothing more than a jumble of rocks on the jungle floor. It seemed a poor tribute.

Seized by inspiration, Vasha grabbed one of her fallen turrets. She snapped off the legs, hastily fixing them back together in a letter ‘A’. It wasn’t much better than the rocks, quite honestly; she wished she had more time. Still, when she held the marker out, Roan took it. He looked at it for a long time, then bent to wedge it into the earth at the head of the grave.

“Things will be different, next time,” Roan said. He seemed to be speaking to Artorius. “You told me to get help, but I was so damn stubborn… Next time, I won’t wait until it’s too late.”

The silence, this time, was pierced by the distant cries of what might have been jungle creatures – or might have been Mordrem. Gull shifted. “We need to move.”

Roan nodded once and stepped away from the grave. He reached under his armour, and when he stretched out his hand, a golden key dangled from one claw. “I found this on the grave just before the Mordrem attacked. Vasha was right: Artorius was the clue.”

“And Grey?” Vasha asked.

“We don’t need him. We’ll follow the other teams, try to get ahead if we can. We might be the only ones with a key.”

There were nods of agreement all round. They were tired, Vasha knew, but dawn was touching the sky and the possibility of winning this round felt so close. Even surrounded by Mordrem, she was eager to continue.

Roan tucked the key away and reached for his pack. “We’ve got a chance to win this. Let’s use it.”