Chapter 3: Part 4 - A Thorn In My Side

Erin wasn’t used to having sleepless nights. Usually, she was asleep within half a minute of putting her head down, a trick acquired from years spent in the wilds. Tonight, though, sleep seemed elusive. She just couldn’t remember the last time she’d been plagued by so many damned thoughts.

There was one positive to being awake, at least: when a figure appeared at the foot of her bedroll, she knew she wasn’t dreaming.

Erin sat up slowly. It wasn’t the real Artair ‒ even he couldn’t pop into existence in the middle of their half-built guild hall without triggering Darr’s new alarms. It was some kind of clone or illusion of him, though. It was also smiling.

“What do you want?” Erin asked. She knew attacking the illusion wouldn’t do any good, but it took all her willpower not to pick up her sword. This was the sylvari who’d not only caused her weeks of trouble, but had now placed a bounty on her head.

The illusion flickered, Artair’s smile growing. “I thought it was time we met face-to-face.”

Behind Artair, Erin could see Marissa and Amber creeping out of the building. They were clearly hoping to catch the real Artair, but Erin knew he was cleverer than that. If he was anywhere in the vicinity, he’d make sure they couldn’t find him.

“We’ve met several times,” Erin said, folding her arms. “Last time, you kidnapped my thief.”

“One of your thieves.” The illusion of Artair seemed to study the guild hall with glowing eyes. “You’ve managed to build quite the guild full of miscreants.”

Erin winced and hoped Artair didn’t see it. She pushed the blankets off and rose to her feet. “Enough chatter. If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

Artair’s smile turned sly. “Out of all the people who might have stood between me and Taria’s weapon, I never would have imagined it would be a stubborn norn warrior. You have been a thorn in my side for weeks, Erin. I don’t hold it against you, but it can’t go on forever.”

A cold lump seemed to form in the pit of Erin’s stomach. In the shadows, she saw Amber slinking back into the guild hall, shaking her head. No sign of the real Artair, then. Perhaps it was time to take a different approach. “Drop the bounty and maybe we can negotiate.”

“Negotiate? What makes you think I’d consider that? I just wanted to tell you that I’ve won.”

“You haven’t won anything, as far as I can see.”

“Haven’t I? My spies have finally got to the bottom of Taria’s secrets. It’s amazing what you can learn when you throw enough money around. But I know the truth of things now ‒ which means you’re here, in Lion’s Arch, and the weapon…” Artair raised one hand in a graceful gesture. “…is all the way out there.”

Erin’s stomach flipped right over. No. He couldn’t know. He couldn’t…

But Artair was already fading and it was impossible to miss how smug he looked. “Perhaps I’ll see you in Brisban Wildlands,” he said, his voice growing fainter. “Or perhaps I won’t.”

Erin had no time to reply. As Artair’s illusion winked out, the air filled with the wail of one of Darr’s alarms.

That finally brought the rest of the guild scrambling from their beds. Erin scooped her greatsword from the floor as they went streaming across the hall, all of them bristling with weapons. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night. They were ready to fight.

Just briefly, Erin felt a flush of pride. Light’s Memory was filled with seasoned fighters, most of whom had learnt their trade long before joining ‒ but she was the one who’d brought them together. She’d forged them into this single unit and stopped them vanishing back into the wilderness one by one. Artair could call her ‘stubborn’ all he liked. She’d built something here that he would never take away.

Weapons clattered and shouts rose into the night air. Ivar and Roan had rushed outside; Marissa was still out there. Erin couldn’t hear any actual combat, though. Where were Artair’s attackers?

She strode to the front door, where the siren was even louder. Darr, a blanket tied over his head to block out the noise, was fiddling with a device held in both hands; a moment later, the alarm cut out.

“It appears our alarm system requires some refinement,” he muttered, pulling the blanket away from his ears. “It also appears we’re not under attack.”

Without the alarm, the silence seemed to hum in Erin’s ears ‒ but it wasn’t silent for long. Roan and Ivar had returned to the entrance, weapons slung over their shoulders. Marissa was still nowhere to be seen.

“Nothing,” Roan growled. “You think it was a trick?”

“What would be the point?” Darr said. “Artair didn’t need to set off the alarm to prove his superiority.”

“A malfunction, then?” Roan pressed.

“There was no ‘malfunction’,” Darr snapped back. “The alarm might be over-sensitive, but it works perfectly well‒”

Erin held up a hand, cutting him off. She could feel the tension thrumming through her guild members. A single illusion and a misfiring security alarm had got them all arguing with one another and jumping at shadows; even now, Ivar was poking into a crate of building materials with his sword.

“Artair was just trying to get to us,” she said.

“Then he succeeded.” Amber stood on Darr’s other side, her arms folded. “First that price on your head and now this. He’s playing with us.”

“Artair thinks he’s winning, yes? I heard him from outside.” Marissa had finally returned. She stood in the doorway, but her usual insouciance was gone. She seemed to be using the door frame to hold herself up. “I hate to say it, but I fear he might be right.”

They all saw the blood in the same instant. Erin rushed forwards, but it was Roan who got there first, grabbing Marissa before she could fall. A dark stain had spread across her ribs and the air was heavy with the metallic smell of blood.

“Nothing but a scratch,” Marissa said, but her voice was faint.

“What happened?” Amber demanded, fingers twitching towards her daggers.

“Three assailants, all with knives. They… ambushed me when I got close to the water.”

“A random attack?” Darr asked, but he sounded worried.

“Hardly.” Marissa’s voice was growing weaker still, but she sounded like she was smiling. “Do you really think… three thugs… could have got to me?”

Marissa was right: she was too skilled to have been caught by anyone untrained. Which meant Artair had suspected they’d come looking for him and he’d set up a nasty surprise just in case.

Roan growled something unintelligible and hauled Marissa upright. “Don’t die on me yet, Valpari,” he muttered. “If anyone’s going to kill you, it’s going to be me.”

He hustled Marissa away across the guild hall, Darr hurrying after ‒ but before Erin could follow, Amber blocked her path. “What is going on here?” she said. “Why did Artair sound like he knows what the weapon is ‒ and why did he imply you know, too?”

Erin’s heart sank. “Amber…”

“Don’t.” Amber held up a hand, fury in her golden eyes. “You said Artair’s playing games with us, but it looks like he’s not the only one.”

Anger finally kindled in Erin’s own chest. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it? You’re the one who’s been having secret meetings with Taria. What did she tell you?”

“One meeting,” Erin said, through gritted teeth, “and you would have been invited if you hadn’t gone haring off after Artair yourself.”

“I had to! We had a plan, except you didn’t stick to it. We might have caught Artair by now if you hadn’t been so bone-headed.”

Erin folded her own arms. “Caught Artair and lost Oska. Is that really what you wanted?”

“It’s not about what anyone wants. Artair has forced us into this and if we’re going to win, we’re going to have to start playing by his rules‒”

“Enough.” Erin hadn’t meant to shout, but her voice thundered across the guild hall. Finally, a true silence fell. Even Amber looked stunned. “We’re not ‘playing’ anything. Artair can do what he likes, but we’re taking this seriously. There’s too much at stake to do otherwise.”

Amber’s eyes narrowed. “What’s ‘at stake’, exactly?”

Erin took a deep breath. She was aware that everyone in the guild hall was either watching or listening; even Marissa, now stretched out on a blanket with Roan patching up her wounds, was probably more awake than she looked. But what Taria had said to Erin, in their last meeting… She couldn’t reveal it like this.

“You’re going to have to trust me,” she said, remembering saying the same to Oska. If anything, Amber looked even more dubious than he had, which wasn’t reassuring. “And you’d better get packing.”

“Why? Where are we going?”

“You heard Artair: he’s heading for Brisban Wildlands.”

“It might have been a bluff to make us look in the wrong direction. And even if it isn’t, you don’t think the Valparis and Taria’s staff can look out for themselves?”

Erin’s hands clenched into fists. Fear clawed at her chest ‒ fear for the twins, fear over what Artair would do if he caught up to them ‒ but she tried to transmute it into anger, into eagerness for the fight ahead. Because there would be a fight, one way or another. Artair knew about the weapon, which meant he wouldn’t stand idle, and neither would Light’s Memory. “I know what Artair’s after. It’s time to take the fight to him.”