Chapter 5: Part 2 - Mercenaries and Marauders

"Hotter than... a Seraph's sweaty greatcoat."

"Hotter than your mother's boudoir."

"Leave my mother out of this. A norn tavern."

"An ettin's armpit."

"A charr's armpit."

"Quiet both of you," Marissa snapped, leaving both Jean and Oska sniggering. Jean noticed that she couldn't help wiping the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve. Draconis Mons was the hottest place he'd ever been, the air heavy with humidity and smelling of rotten eggs. They'd been tentatively making their way up the slope from the shoreline for at least an hour, under cover of Marissa's invisibility, then Oska's. It was Marissa's turn again now, leaving her strained and irritable, and Oska free to make jokes.

"Are we really going to creep all the way to the top of the volcano like this?" Jean asked.

"If we have to." Marissa spoke without looking at him. "You saw those mercenaries. They were well-rested and had plenty of supplies. We can't compete with them."

She stopped, crouching behind a rock. Jean crouched behind her – and realised Auri was right beside him.

"We can't hide forever," she whispered, practically into his ear. "They know how to find us."

Her words were vague and unsettling, but Jean knew that was what Auri classed as a warning. He drew his sceptre without thinking, then reached for his magic. The ground began to rumble under them. Marissa shot him a furious look, but her attention was almost instantly caught by something behind him. She surged to her feet, their shimmering veil of invisibility falling away.

The fight was over quickly. The mercenary who'd crept up behind them seemed to be a lone scout; the moment Jean encased his lower half in ice, the sylvari threw up his hands in surrender. Even that brief encounter was enough to leave them all dripping sweat, though. Jean was half tempted to sidle closer to their prisoner, just to feel the cool of his icy bonds.

"Let him go," Marissa said, with a disgusted look. She hadn't even drawn a weapon. "He won't tell us anything useful."

"You're right about that," the sylvari said, with a wide grin.

"Because he doesn't know anything useful," Marissa said wearily. The sylvari's smile faltered. "These mercenaries are obstacles to be knocked aside. The quicker we get rid of him, the quicker we can move on."

Oska raised a dagger, which made the sylvari look nervous for the first time. Before anyone could do anything stupid, Jean shattered the ice. The sylvari was off like a shot, not even stopping to shake the shards from his clothing.

Oska looked disappointed. "I could have made him talk."

"You're as bad as Marissa," Jean muttered, then wished he hadn't. Oska had been spinning a dagger across his fingers, but now he slid it into his palm. Auri, though she wasn't looking at either of them, reached for her staff.

Jean could feel the argument brewing. It was this heat, making them all irrational – or more irrational than usual, anyway. "Hotter than a troll's loincloth," he said, which made Oska laugh, and was just enough to stop any punches being thrown.

They encountered one more mercenary band as they climbed the hill: three norn, all looking distinctly uncomfortable in the heat. They'd stopped to argue amongst themselves in low voices and it didn't take much to distract them. Just one of Marissa's clones popping up in the distance had the norn scrambling in the opposite direction, already drawing their weapons.

"They won't all be this stupid," Jean said, as Marissa led them on again.

"Of course not," she replied. "The clever ones will have used Yinn's speech to give them time to get ahead of us."

That was an unsettling thought. None of them really knew the topography of Draconis Mons; Oska had studied a single map of the area, and Jean had once attended a scientific lecture on the volcano's discovery, but otherwise they were in the dark. Knowing that there were mercenaries ahead of them, lurking amid the equally formidable wildlife, didn't fill Jean with confidence.

It wasn't mercenaries they ran into next, though. At the top of the slope, the rough path disappeared into a cave – and the Marauders were crouched in the entrance.

For the first time, Marissa hesitated. They were technically still allied with the Marauders, but Jean had explained what had happened in Death's Anthem. There was no knowing how the Marauders would greet them here.

"Can we sneak past?" Jean asked, in a low voice.

It was too late. The hesitation had cost them precious seconds and Marissa was at the end of her strength. Her invisibility ran out, and before Oska could take over, Gull spotted them.

The ranger stood up slowly, the rest of the Marauders doing the same. Jean could see them talking amongst themselves, but they were too far away to hear.

"How are we going to handle this?" he asked Marissa.

"We'll play it by ear," she said, but she rolled her shoulders as though she was getting ready for a fight.

They advanced slowly. Jean became acutely aware that the Marauders were uphill, giving them the advantage. It made it more obvious than usual just how big Roan and the norn were – and how heavily armed.

"This cave looks like the only way up," Roan said, when they were closer. He sounded friendly enough, but he had one hand on his mace. "Unless you like climbing."

Jean glanced upwards. The rock walls of the volcano seemed to stretch on forever, except where they were broken by rough ledges and glowing fungus. There might be other ways up the volcano, but climbing wasn't one of them.

Marissa gestured towards the cave. "We'll give you a head start."

Roan gave a rumbling laugh. "So we can be the ones to clear out whatever nasties live in there? I don't think so."

"We can all go," Jean said. He could feel another argument brewing, this one much more serious. "It won't be hard to clear the way if we work together."

"And then what?" Vasha's voice rang out. "We're all going to reach the top as one big happy team?"

"We can split up on the other side of the cave–"

"No." Vasha interrupted him. "Only one team can win this. Unless you're going to hand over your key right now–"

"Unlikely," Marissa said.

"–we might as well end things here."

The silence that greeted her words seemed to thrum in Jean's ears. He knew there was logic in what Vasha said – he just couldn't believe she was the one saying it. It was Marissa's place to be ruthless, or Roan's. Vasha was supposed to be as committed to their alliance as he was.

But she hadn't been for a long time, Jean realised. She hadn't taken the prize in Orr just to make up for Marissa taking the riddles from Tarir. Now, as the end came ever closer, Vasha was playing to win.

"Why not clear out a few of the mercenary teams before we go our separate ways?" Jean tried, but he knew no-one was listening. Too many hands were on weapons, too many teeth were bared. This was only going to end one way.

It was Roan who attacked first, as though he'd been waiting for this moment. His mace whirled towards Oska's head, only to be deflected by a spinning wall of blades. A crowd of Marissa's clones popped into being, rushing to engage the two snarling pets. Auri's feet lifted from the ground as fire swirled around her, ready to engulf the first person who came near.

And in the sudden noise and chaos, Jean found himself staring at Vasha.

She was barely ten feet away, pistols in both hands and a look of utter concentration on her face. She was leaner and more weather-beaten than he remembered, her red-gold hair grubby and tangled. She looked like a woman who'd been backed into a corner – and then decided she liked fighting for her life.

But that was the heart of it, wasn't it? She looked like a woman, not a scared little girl who'd walked into this game accidentally. She looked like she belonged here, as fierce and wild as the landscape. In that moment, Jean had never felt further from her.

It wasn't enough. He couldn't strike her down. He couldn't even defend himself if that meant he inadvertently did her harm. He'd never wanted to hurt her, no matter what Vasha thought.

Jean raised his sceptre, reaching deep into the earth. It felt strange here, furious and unpredictable – but when Jean pulled on his magic, it responded with a swiftness that surprised him. The ground rippled under his feet, the shockwave surging out across the battlefield. It knocked friend and foe alike from their feet, weapons flying.

In the aftermath, Jean moved quickly. They'd proved their alliance with the Marauders was dead; this wasn't a fight they could avoid forever. It didn't need to be here, though, so soon after they'd arrived in Draconis Mons. Maybe this strange place would knock some sense into them, or at least leave them too exhausted to kill one another.

He dragged Marissa to her feet, feeling her invisibility settle over him again. They retrieved Oska and Auri without a word, pulling them aside as the Marauders climbed unsteadily to their feet. No-one suggested continuing the fight, not even his sister. After their time in Orr, the old Marissa was long gone.

Still, it was with some embarrassment that Jean helped his family escape into the shadows of the cave. He felt like he was holding his breath the entire way, but the Marauders regrouped further down the slope and didn't come after them.

They all knew it was for the best – didn't they? None of them really wanted to fight. They certainly didn't want to kill one another.

Because that, Jean knew, was what this would come down to. Their teams were too evenly matched, too familiar with how the other side operated. If they fought again in earnest, someone was going to die.