Chapter 3: Part 2 - Very Good Money

Erin wasn’t used to keeping secrets. For many years, she’d worked alone; if she’d had any secrets then, there wouldn’t have been anyone to tell. There wasn’t usually anything worth hiding from Light’s Memory, either. She was sure half her guild members were engaged in schemes of their own, but that had never bothered her. As long as Erin herself wasn’t the one with something to hide, she was happy.

Except she’d now been saddled with the biggest secret of her life and she wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“Are you listening to me?” Amber demanded. “Erin. Have you heard a word I’ve said?”

Erin blinked at the papers Amber had spread across the makeshift table. They’d been forced to hold their meeting inside the guild hall, though it didn’t have a roof and the sound of hammers and saws was all around. Amber insisted nowhere else was safe.

“You’ve set up a meeting,” Erin said. That much, at least, she’d paid attention to.

Amber frowned, but she looked mollified. She’d arrived back in Lion’s Arch that morning, saying she’d tracked Taria’s people ‒ and, by extension, Artair ‒ to a distant corner of the Silverwastes. There, they’d all sat around spying on one another, until Amber had given up and come home.

But she’d made a detour on the way. A detour she seemed to think would be very profitable.

“Her name is Galwen. She’s a sylvari necromancer, with a guild based out of Maguuma.”

“How did you hear about her?”

“She heard about me. I made a stop in the Grove to pick up messages and there was one from her. She says she’s got information about Artair. All you have to do is pick it up.”

Erin folded her arms. “Why me?”

“Because you’re a guild leader and so is she. Trust me, if there was any other way, I’d be going to the meeting myself.”

Erin sighed. Everything about this sounded suspicious, but Amber knew that already. It was Amber’s job to gather information, to chase leads, and to pick apart the clues that resulted from them. If she thought Galwen had something worth sharing, Erin had to go.

“Fine.” Erin reached for the map between them and pulled it closer. “Where am I heading?”

Within the hour, Erin found herself stepping out of a waypoint in Sparkfly Fen. The humidity of the place assailed her like a slap to the face, forcing her to shrug out of her heavy coat and tie it to her pack. She surveyed the hazy horizon dubiously. Half an hour out here and all her weapons would be rusty.

But this was where Galwen was supposed to be. Amber had indicated a location on the map known as Orvar’s Glen. “There’s nothing there,” the thief had said dismissively. “A few hylek, the odd Vigil scout on patrol. I think Galwen’s just picked a spot where you won’t be seen.”

Erin no longer cared whether she was seen or not. She was going to be eaten alive by mosquitoes long before she found the necromancer.

There wasn’t much of a path from the waypoint. Erin put the estuary behind her and headed towards the hills.

The light dimmed as soon as she stepped beneath the trees. There was a syrupy quality to the daylight, as though it pierced the canopy only grudgingly. The ground squelched underfoot, each step filling Erin’s boots with more water. She growled a curse under her breath. Jungles and swamps. She’d had enough of them to last a lifetime.

It grew even darker as she descended into a shallow valley. A glimmering pool lay ahead, accompanied by the sound of a waterfall Erin couldn’t see. She paused at the waterside, loosening her greatsword in its scabbard. Amber had mentioned a camp beside the pool, hadn’t she? So why did the place seem deserted?

Two more steps. The gloom pressed in. Erin was on the verge of drawing her sword when light flared ahead, just bright enough to show a figure in silhouette.

“Galwen?” Erin said warily, hand still on her sword.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” The sylvari’s tone was stiff and formal, her face still in shadow.

“We agreed a meeting, didn’t we?” The heat was making Erin’s head swim. What she wouldn’t have given for open mountain slopes and crisp, snow-laden air. “So here I am. You have information on Artair?”

“Information?” Galwen shifted a little, the lantern light finally falling across a face framed by a high collar. She seemed to be smiling. “Yes, I did offer that, didn’t I?”

The foreboding in Erin’s chest suddenly swelled. She drew her sword, not caring if Galwen took offence. “What’s going on here?”

“You really don’t know?” Galwen left the lantern behind, coming close enough for Erin to see her slightly manic grin. “You’ve spent all this time chasing the Archon and you don’t know about the bounty?”

What bounty? Erin wanted to say, but there wasn’t time to ask questions. Galwen gave a short, piercing whistle and the valley filled with movement.

Erin didn’t hesitate. As the first enemies flung themselves down the slope, she swung her greatsword with limb-severing force. In the darkness, she caught only flashes of movement, flares of bright magic. Weapons came at her from all sides and she swung again, not knowing whether she was attacking illusions or real enemies. They seemed to melt away at the slightest touch, laughter trailing after them.

Suddenly, Galwen was there. She lunged at Erin, a pair of axes raised. Her eyes were dark, her face streaked with white paint. Erin met the strike, pushing Galwen back towards the pool. They reached the water’s edge, their weapons still locked ‒ and then, with a single snarl, Galwen threw them in.

The water was blissfully cold. Erin heard Galwen’s gasp of shock ‒ and felt a rush of energy through her own limbs. Cold. Proper, bone-aching cold. This was more like it.

Erin had just regained her footing when there were shouts from the bank. More lanterns blazed to life, allowing her to see that the shadows she’d thought were illusions were, in fact, real people. Perhaps these were Galwen’s guild members; they plunged down the bank with weapons raised, throwing themselves into the water after Erin.

But she was the only norn amongst them and that gave her a distinct advantage.

Some of them were half her height, for one thing. Erin dodged a blow from one of Galwen’s axes, then waded into deeper water. Now, half her enemies couldn’t even stand up ‒ and Erin could see their movements slowing as the cold soaked into their flesh.

She deflected another of Galwen’s axes, then a sword belonging to a ranger. Water sprayed into the air, diamond-bright in the lantern light. Some kind of wolf snarled at her from the shallows, then tried to fling itself into deeper water. A cloud of butterflies flickered past Erin’s head and for a moment her vision fractured, but there was a sudden yelp from the bank and the illusion faded.

Erin swung again. Fifteen, including Galwen herself. The sylvari had likely brought her entire guild. Erin’s jubilation began to fade. Even as a norn, she was going to tire, sooner rather than later. She couldn’t take on an entire guild on her own.

A soft laugh sounded in Erin’s ear, as though someone stood right next to her. “You didn’t really think you were alone, did you?”

There were more shouts of dismay from the water’s edge. Even from a distance, Erin could see the fight shifting that way, more weapons and spells flashing in the gloom. Someone threw a glittering globe of light into the air, illuminating the whole battlefield, and finally Erin could see them. Amber. Ivar. Roan. Marissa, who’d spoken in her ear. Just four of them, but they had the strength of arms to send Galwen’s guild scrambling for cover.

It was over in minutes. Galwen hauled herself from the water, spitting curses, and her guild followed. They retreated towards the waterfall that Erin could now see to the north ‒ and the next moment vanished into a mesmer’s portal.

Erin strode from the pool, shaking water from her hair. Her guild stood in a loose circle, examining their weapons, checking their supplies. Erin surveyed them, half wondering who she should shout at first.

“Before you begin,” Amber said, with a hint of smugness, “there’s a reason I didn’t tell you we were coming.”

Erin glared at her, though she wondered if Amber could even see it; half the lanterns had been knocked over. “What reason would that be?”

“Galwen had to think you’d come alone, which meant you had to believe you were alone. She would have guessed the ambush was coming otherwise.”

Erin grunted. An ambush to catch an ambush. That was so much like Amber, it made her head hurt.

But Galwen’s words had resurfaced in Erin’s mind and she didn’t like what they implied. “Galwen mentioned a bounty.”

“Artair’s doing,” Roan spat. “Looks like you’ve got a price on your head.”

“Just me?”

“Just you,” Marissa purred, though she sounded slightly annoyed.

“No law enforcement agency would approve it,” Amber added, “but Artair’s put the word out that he’ll pay good money for your death. Very good money.”

Erin sighed. A bounty. Just what she needed.

Ivar, who stood nearest to Erin, clapped her on the shoulder. “Take heart, sister. You’ve really wound the little runt up this time.”

That, though, was exactly what Erin was afraid of. She was out here, with most of Light’s Memory and plenty of freedom of movement. She could hide, or fight, or find some other way to confront Artair. But what if the Archon decided to go after other members of the guild? What if Taria’s protections weren’t enough? What about Oska and Auri?