Callum woke with a start, sitting up and looking around. For a moment, he didn’t understand where he was. This wasn’t his and Deirdre’s room at Greyson Manor. This bed was completely unfamiliar, surrounded by many other beds — small beds, with black sheets, all lined throughout this room. Some of those beds were occupied. Many were not.
After a moment, he remembered.
Right. This is just a rest area set up for the Grimoire Guard. I just needed to catch what sleep I could. Didn’t have time to go home.
Who does, these days?
He checked the time.
Nine-fifteen in the morning. Only managed three hours.
He stood and stretched, working what weariness he could out of his system. Three hours of sleep wasn’t much, but it was more than he’d been able to get for nearly a week. It would have to do.
This rest area was a temporary setup in the Libra District, making use of the apartment buildings’ lobbies and lounge areas to allow for a quick — or not so quick, for those who had the time — rest without having to go home. He quickly pulled on his boots and winter coat and headed outside. Beneath the golden boughs of Yggdrasil, the morning was bright and peaceful, the violence of the long night and the ashen veil that coated the sky both easily forgotten.
A short walk through the frigid morning air took him to Lunar Plaza, and the command tent where, steady as ever, Deirdre Greyson and Jacob Crowley were analyzing and discussing the events of the previous night and preparing for the coming one.
“Good morning!” Callum said with a broad smile, kissing his wife and taking a seat beside her. “What’s the story?”
“The story is the same as it has been since these lengthening nights began,” Jacob Crowley said, his usual dour self. “We are managing. But while we have found success against the Shadow-Stalkers, their presence is chipping away at our stamina. Injuries and wounds are down, but exhaustion is a far more deadly foe, and one that is far more difficult to measure.”
“You two haven’t slept or eaten, have you?” Callum said, back on his feet. “I’ll grab breakfast. Any requests?”
“Get whatever you want,” Jacob said. “If it keeps you from interrupting further when you were the one who asked questions in the first place, a meal would be most welcome.”
“You know what I like,” Deirdre said, smiling at Callum.
“Be right back!” Callum headed out, just a few blocks away to his — and his wife’s, and his children’s — favorite bakery. Many places — including Rosa’s bakery — were delivering numerous free meals and refreshments throughout the city, but their main locations stayed open for business, and Callum wanted to make sure they didn’t suffer for funding in these difficult times. He soon headed back, savoring the delicious aromas of coffee, cinnamon, vanilla, and savory breakfast meats.
“Plenty for each of us,” he said, handing out separate bags to Deirdre and Jacob before sitting with his own and digging right in. As always, when he had the opportunity, he started with dessert, devouring his gigantic cinnamon roll in a handful of bites. He was even hungrier than he’d realized!
“Back to business,” Jacob said, grazing with small bites while he talked. “Sal still has yet to make his move. But he will, and every day that he doesn’t is a day that we grow weaker. We have also received our first report from the Well of Darkness, and it is not encouraging.”
“Our first report from Caleb’s team?” Callum asked, leaning forward. He’d nearly finished his entire breakfast in the short time that Jacob had been talking.
“The Well was originally just probing outward, careful but weak,” Deirdre said. “But it has started spawning Shadow-Hollows at an alarming rate. Caleb’s team has some of our strongest fighters, so they’re not in danger at the moment. But it is likely this is only a next phase in a larger plan.”
“Right,” Jacob said. “It started by simply searching, easily fought back. Now it spawns Shadow-Hollows. There is undoubtedly going to be a third phase beyond that. We’ve heard of the ‘wave of Darkness’ that attacked Chelsea’s team in the Library of Solitude, and the flood of Darkness that nearly devoured Lorelei’s team after they vanquished Kaohlad. If it explodes with that kind of power, I don’t know how we can expect them to hold that back.”
“Let alone escape safely,” Deirdre said. “Marcus and Delilah said that the Darkness in the Well had seemed to be ‘waiting’ for something. We expect that to be Sal’s arrival. When he comes… what will they face down there?”
“Do we have a plan?” Callum asked.
“Hold fast,” Jacob said. “Just as we have been. Details are… eluding us, at the moment. It burns me to say it, but we cannot hold forever, not if we continue as we have been.”
Deirdre’s phone chimed, and she checked it. Her face lit up. “It’s from Hagen,” she said, referring to Hagen Rook, Will’s father and co-head of the Guardian Guild alongside his wife, Mercedes. “He and Mercedes have made a breakthrough. The old town barrier — they can get it back up!”
“They can manage that scale of Locational Guardian Magic?” Jacob asked. He stood. “Let’s go and speak with them directly.”
They didn’t have far to go, because the burly, bearded Hagen and elegant Mercedes had been on their way to them. “Now, don’t get too excited,” Hagen said, motioning for calm with his huge hands. “We can get the City Barrier back up.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” Callum said with a smirk.
“But only for short periods of time,” Mercedes said. “For the same reason it was abandoned, we cannot raise it and maintain it indefinitely — it’s simply too large, too great a burden on any number of mages or Talismans. That kind of magic cannot simply be without active effort from mages. However, it is more than a mere defensive wall.”
Hagen grinned, white teeth seeming even whiter in the midst of his bushy black beard. “It uses a feedback-rebound form of Guardian Magic. Whatever assails the barrier has their attack rebounded back onto them, amplified by at least double. We’re still working out the exact numbers there.”
“But that’s perfect for the Shadow-Stalkers!” Callum said. “None of them have shown any ability to attack from a distance yet. And the barrier lines are far enough beyond the city’s farthest buildings that we won’t put anyone in danger by letting Stalkers get that close.”
“Our thoughts exactly,” Hagen said, clapping Callum on the back with enough force to nearly knock him to his knees. “We can spare our Manors’ cannons and our Hunter teams.”
“Some of our very best have been tied up with Stalker elimination,” Jacob said. “Letting them focus back in on Hollows will make things easier on everyone. But give us more details. We need exact numbers to know if this will work the way we hope.”
“Of course,” Mercedes said. “Come with us. Mina’s been helping us work out exactly what we can accomplish.”
Jacob headed off with the Rooks, while Deirdre remained with Callum. She took his hand in hers, relief showing in her smile. “There’s a change we sorely needed,” she said. “Now if some of our other long-term analyses and experiments can come through, we might just give our Hunters the break they need. No one’s getting enough sleep. Thankfully we’re managing to keep everyone fed and nourished, and we’ve worked out a schedule for the food trucks to bring in their deliveries during the day and be out of here long before Hollow Hour, but sleep is something in far too short supply. We’ve already had six Hunters forced to bed-rest for overwork and exhaustion. They’ll be out of commission for five days, at best.”
“And what about you?” Callum asked, giving Deirdre’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m pretty sure you haven’t slept at all in the past week.”
“I’ve caught sleep where I can,” Deirdre said. Her face was as composed as ever, and there were no dark circles under her eyes. But her voice was softer than usual, a bit worn — a subtle change, but Callum could hear it in every word. Deirdre was exhausted. “I usually only get an hour at a time, but I’ve gotten at least four hours each day.”
“You know how important uninterrupted sleep is, though. Come on. This is downtime. Go to sleep, and I’ll wake you in a few hours.”
“No more than three,” Deirdre said, giving Callum a serious stare. “That’s the most I can spare right now. We still have a lot of planning to do if we’re going to weather the next storm.”
“You got it,” Callum said, grinning.
But a moment later, a scream pierced the peaceful morning. It was joined by others, terror and confusion mingling in a horrifying chorus. Callum took off running, Deirdre right beside him, and they raced as one towards the noise, a panic rising in the east. Halfway there, Callum caught a glimpse through the buildings of a Manor on the eastern border toppling. An explosion soon followed, spewing thick, choking black smoke into the sky.
What had gone wrong? The mornings and early afternoons were supposed to be times for what rest they could manage to get before the next attack.
Had Sal finally made his move?
——
Caleb leapt back from a Howler’s snapping jaws, anchoring it to the floor with a pair of chains. Will followed up, using Energy Magic through written words — in this case, “DISPERSE” — to morph the magic of Caleb’s chains into explosive crystals of light, destroying the Howler. The boys high-fived, and Caleb was encouraged to see a smile on Will’s face.
“Cute, guys, but it’s a bit early for celebrating!” Chelsea said, blasting a trio of Splicers to ash just before their bladed arms reached her. Gwen leapt through that ash to slash through a pair of Howlers with her silver needle-sword, then leapt back and tossed out silver thread in a complex web that caught a few more leaping Howlers in mid-air, holding them trapped long enough for Anastasia to dash through in a spinning kick that obliterated them.
“We don’t usually get to be a team, so we’re pretty excited we pulled that off,” Caleb said, grinning as he chained down a half-dozen Weavers for Chelsea to torch with ease — and a few others in the opposite direction for Will to repeat their earlier combo, finding continued success.
“Watch the ceilings,” Artemis said, standing by the stairs, firing gleaming green arrows at Weavers that were sneaking along the ceiling, looking to drop down on unsuspecting victims.
“And watch the walls!” Galahad said, deflecting a pair of Splicer blade-arms on his shield and cutting them down with his white sword. “They don’t seem to be simply spawning from the Well itself.”
“They’re making use of the shadows at the edges of this chamber,” Stride said, a blood-red katana in hand that left arcing trails of light whenever he slashed. He cut down a Howler, then paused in a rare empty, quiet space. “Interesting.”
“Whatever it is that’s interesting,” Bronn said, grabbing a Splicer by its blade arms in one of his huge hands, lifting it bodily from the floor, and smashing it against the wall, “if it’s important, don’t leave us in suspense.”
“I’m not certain yet,” Stride said, his blood-red blade flashing twice, felling thrice as many Howlers.
“Everyone, stay strong and stay calm,” Hestia said. She stood behind Artemis on the stairs, the farthest one from danger, concentrating her efforts on Support Magic. Her whole being glowed with a warm, fiery-orange light, and Caleb could feel a similar warmth within him. Despite having fought for a very, very long time against the Well’s seemingly infinite supply of Shadow-Hollows, he was refreshed and ready to keep on fighting, thanks to Hestia’s support.
“And stay aware of each other,” Athena said, stepping between a Splicer and Anastasia, catching its blades on her shield and using Guardian Magic to turn that attack back on the Splicer, sending it flying back, slicing itself apart.
“Yes,” said Sieglinde, who stood beside Artemis, a second defense of Hestia. She didn’t fight much — her specialty was Summoning, and all of her Summons were defending the city above, unable to reach this deep beneath the surface. But she had a long, metal staff which she had wielded to excellent effect against the few Hollows that had slipped past the other fighters and Artemis’ watchful gaze. “We may not be used to fighting together, but we’re starting to understand each other, I think. Don’t let that go to waste.”
Caleb pummeled a charging Howler back with weighted attack chains, then chained up a pair of Splicers by the arms, rendering them helpless long enough for Will to blast them away. The boys found another pause, in which Caleb shot Will a look of concern.
Will stepped in close, speaking in a soft voice just for Caleb to hear, “I’m doing better. I can still hear it. But… it doesn’t control me.”
“It” was the strange song of the Well, a song that only a few could hear. Will could hear it. Caleb could not. Neither could Chelsea, who’d come closer to the Darkness than most. Will had been frightened, and Caleb thought he still was, but that simple phrase — “it doesn’t control me” — spoke volumes.
And then, all of a sudden, the fighting stopped.
The Hollows in the chamber were slain. No new Hollows came to take their place.
“Hold up, is that it?” Chelsea asked, her fierce green eyes casting about, still raring for a fight.
“More likely we’ve simply succeeded against the second wave,” Anastasia said, stepping up to the Well’s edge and peering down. “The waters have receded somewhat, and gone strangely still. That’s more eerie than if they continued to froth and foam.”
“Well, if it’s going to take a breather, perhaps we should, as well,” Gwen said, dismissing her needle sword. Her golden eyes had an uncanny gleam in the dark chamber.
“So what was interesting earlier?” Caleb asked, looking at Stride.
Stride checked on his blood-red sword, then sheathed it, before responding. “The Hollows weren’t just spawning from the Well. They were spawning from the walls, as well. And haven’t you noticed?” He adjust his wide-brimmed straw hat as he looked around the chamber. “It’s larger than it was when we entered.”
Caleb looked around with a start. The chamber was rather spacious, but it had been a bit cramped when they’d arrived — it wasn’t easy to accommodate twelve capable fighters in an indoor space.
But that wasn’t the case anymore. They all had ample room to run around. Anastasia, Gwen, and Bronn took up a lot of space with their fighting styles — Anastasia and Gwen speedy and dancer-like with lots of large movements, and Bronn by simply being a mountain of a man who fought with his bare hands — but they could make full use of their combat styles now. Caleb, who liked to jump and dart around, realized that, at some point in the long fight against Hollows, he’d stopped feeling constricted, and had loosened up, fighting in his usual style, albeit without taking to the air. There wasn’t quite enough vertical space for him to dart about on Mobility discs.
“But that’s…” Chelsea started, staring at the chamber.
“Impossible?” Stride asked. “Perhaps not.”
“Oh,” Sieglinde said, a look of recognition on her face. She nodded slowly. “Yes, I see. The Well isn’t just the Well.”
“What do you mean?” Caleb asked.
Sieglinde looked around the chamber, and then up the wide, spiraling staircase they’d come down from. “The whole structure of this space… it’s circular. The chamber, and the stairs up to the Underground. Do you see it? What we’ve been calling the Well is only a part of something greater.”
“The Well… is the entire chamber?” Chelsea asked. “And the stairs we came down? Then that Well —” she pointed to what they’d been calling “the Well,” the wide stone pit in the center of the chamber, “is just… the source? That feeds into the actual Well?”
“Darkness wasn’t just spawning Hollows from that pit, but from the walls of this chamber,” Stride said. “And the chamber has changed in size, and the edges have grown darker and more shadowed. It appears that the Well controls its own dimensions, to a point.”
Caleb suddenly had a sinking sensation in his stomach. “Wait, but then that means we’re not guarding the city from the Well. We’re… in the Well?”
His question was answered by a sudden roar of sound.
Rushing water.
Before he could take a step, before he could react at all, the pit in the center of the chamber suddenly erupted. A geyser of Darkness blasted up and outward, hungrily surging towards Caleb and his team.
——
Callum and Deirdre reached the eastern edge of the city to see… a stranger.
But though they had never seen the man slowly approaching their city before, they knew him. Delilah, Alice, and Marcus had described him to them before.
Tall, broad-shouldered, in dark armor, with dark hair and dark eyes, like a chiseled statue of a legendary knight, he approached the city alone. In his hand he carried with casual ease a broad-bladed black sword longer than he was tall.
Off to the side was the toppled Manor, lying in a crumbled, smoking ruin. And littering the ground behind him, staining the snow red with their blood, were the four Hunters who had first encountered the man — the Son of Night.
Sen.
Stories had reached Callum and many others about the Sons of Night. Kaohlad was slain. Valgwyn had been burned by Chelsea. Dullan was frightened of Maribelle’s golden sword.
But Sen… Sen had never seen defeat. His only “defeat” had come in the Revue of the Night, a defeat not by strength of arms, but by Delilah and Alice overcoming the Darkness and restoring Revue and Revue Palace, forcing the Sons of Night to flee.
Sen had overpowered Marcus. Had overpowered Rabanastre. Delilah and Alice together had defeated one of his “shades” that guarded the Doomed Beast, now properly known as Lunos, but that shade, for all its power, had been a far cry from the might of Sen himself.
And he was here. Approaching Grimoire.
Alone.
“The barrier’s up!” Hagen called from his station near the ruins of Grimoire’s ancient outer wall. His many ring Talismans gleamed bright on his fingers, and several other Guardian Guild members with him stood in deep concentration, their own Talismans blazing with light. And sure enough, Callum could see a telltale shimmer in the air, rippling between Sen and the city he threatened.
But the barrier couldn’t be held up for long.
Sen, understandably, came to a stop just short of the barrier. Opposite him, within the barrier’s protective shield, stood Jacob Crowley. His key-shaped sword was in hand, and he fixed the Son of Night with a glare that would send anyone else running for their lives.
“You killed four of my Hunters,” Jacob said in a hard-edged voice. “That will not go unanswered.”
Sen eyed Jacob with a dark, calm gaze. “Much more Grimoire blood will be spilled before I leave your city,” he said in a dark, rich, smooth voice that carried with it an air of authority and calm confidence. This man, or whatever he was, feared nothing.
“Hagen!” Jacob called out, keeping his gaze locked on Sen. “Lower the barrier.”
“Jacob!” Callum cried, racing to his side. “Are you crazy?”
“He’s the crazy one,” Jacob said, glaring at Sen. “Coming here alone. Killing four of my Hunters. He won’t last the hour. Lower the barrier.”
“But —”
“The barrier can’t be held indefinitely,” Deirdre said.
“And he isn’t fool enough to try to break it,” Jacob said. “He’ll wait us out, and waste the strength of our Guardian Guild. Hagen. On my mark.”
“Understood,” Hagen said, already stepping back from his station, fixing his own dark glare on Sen.
Callum leapt back, sparking to life with cobalt-blue electricity, his hair standing on end, a tingle rushing through his muscles and nerves. “Fine, then,” he muttered, readying himself for a fight. “Let’s be the ones to finally beat this guy.”
“Hagen — mark!” Jacob called out.
Hagen made a quick motion, and the Guardian Guild members aiding him stepped back, nearly collapsing on each other from the effort they’d exerted. The shimmering barrier rippled, shook, and vanished completely.
Fearless, Jacob Crowley led the charge.