Steeltown stood.

Broken, blemished, yet defiant in the afternoon sun.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

The wagon rocked hard to the right, rolling over another stone man's corpse.

"This is a good sign," Reed said.

Dugan grunted in agreement.

Castille nodded.

"The more of them outside the town, the fewer they had to fight in the streets."

Steeltown was scarred with the signs of recent battle: broken walls, burning buildings and the ground littered with bodies of flesh and stone.

Yet, defenders waved from the rooftops. Streaks of sweat ran down their soot-covered faces. In their off-hands, they held hunting bows and makeshift javelins with blunted spearheads.

As we rode closer to the Pit, more people appeared. Tom and Kateen's passing patrols saluted. Mining crews, repurposed to haul away dead bodies, stopped when we approached—clearing a path for the train of wagons.

The reinforced wagon blocking the entrance to our base rolled open, letting us into the improvised headquarters.

Waves of cheers went up from the people inside as our wagons rolled to a stop.

"Are you ready for adoring fans?" Reed asked.

She smiled, turning away from the front of the wagon.

"The sooner these fans go back to their hovels, the better," Shay said.

Reed undid the buttons of her black jacket.

"Again?"

"Bear with it a little longer. You'll leave the Dellends soon."

Shay groaned, flattening into a sheet of fabric and moving in a blur to wrap around Reed's torso.

Castille knelt over the sleeping Isla.

"Jacob, can you walk?"

My left hand moved to the piece of Nostrand's broken staff tucked into my belt sash.

"I think so."

That was all she needed to hear. She pulled back the blanket and scooped Isla up in her strong, lean arms. Reed buttoned up her black jacket, ducking down to pick up her club.

"Let's go."

We stepped out in a line like actors at the end of a play. The crowd of guards, miners and shop workers applauded us with hoots and cheers.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Reed scanned the crowd, a slight smile on her face. Thor soaked up the praise, raising his chin with pride. Dugan leaned against his makeshift cane with a face that wanted to be anywhere but here. Castille returned their cheers with a lopsided grin, Isla's body light in her arms. I stood in an awkward stance, one hand in a half wave, the other holding the broken staff against my waist.

Reed raised her hand, quieting the crowd.

"Citizens of Steeltown, order has been restored!"

Her voice was strong and clear. It cut through the square like a knife.

"The enemy has been vanquished with the help of the Sanctifiers and these brave heroes."

She swept her hand to each of us.

"Castille Ironside, a mighty warrior from the North. Dugan Samaran, a humble farmer's son from the flatlands. Jacob Sin, a half-elf from our capital city. And let me not forget the mighty Thor!"

Another wave of cheers erupted from the crowd.

Her open hand curled into a finger against her lips.

The audience's roar fell to a low murmur.

"But there is another hero…"

She pointed that finger at the people around us.

"Each and every one of you. Steeltown is more than a place. It is made up of people—brave people who defended their homes and livelihoods from a threat that has plotted our destruction for over a hundred years. Let us mourn our dead, burn their bodies, and build a better, stronger Steeltown!"

The cheer from the crowd was deafening.

Hope swelled in their wide eyes. Even I was a little moved.

Reed's face split in a mischievous smile.

"Come along, heroes."

She led us to the Pit while her guards unloaded their dead and injured from the other wagons.

I walked over to her side.

"Nice speech. I almost believed you."

She looked at me over her shoulder with a quirked eyebrow.

"Where did I lie?"

I scoffed at her.

"You believe that stuff?"

"I believe in civilization, and that requires people—the more motivated, the better."

She stopped mid-step, looking off into the smoking ruins of the town. Castille almost bumped into the long club slung over her shoulder.

"They'll need all the motivation they can get. Rebuilding will be a challenge. Especially with the food shortage."

"Speaking of... I noticed you didn't mention Isla in your speech."

She gave me an innocent shrug and started walking again.

"What could I say? I don't know anything about her."

I eyed Reed as she disappeared through the doors of the Pit. If I knew anything about her, she hadn't given up on getting information on Isla.

What would be her next angle?

"Jacob, you coming?" Castille asked.

"Yeah..."

Dugan held open the door to let Thor and myself into the Pit. Kateen, Arwen, Dew Able and Tom stood at the table overlooking the map of the town. Cassandra and a few of her girls were at the bar, wiping down the hardwood surface. She glanced at the door.

"Castille!"

Cassandra ran across the floor to wrap her arms around the taller woman's neck. She pulled her head down for a kiss.

"Jacob, could you-"

"Yeah, I got it."

I walked over to Castille. She passed Isla to my waiting arms, Nostrand's broken staff held firm in my left hand.

Castille wrapped her long arms around Cassandra's waist, pulling her close.

That was my cue to leave. Things were about to get weird.

I walked across the floor of the Pit, climbing up the stairs to our room. At the table, Reed was talking to the cartel leaders, and Kateen was staring at me. Dark circles shadowed her eyes from a long night without sleep.

I was wrong. Things were already weird.

# # #

I slipped off Isla's mud-caked boots, laid her on the bed and collapsed into the side table chair. The short walk to our room drained much of my regained will.

I turned Nostrand's broken staff over in my hands. The warm contours of the coiling snakes were soothing. I sagged lower into my chair, resting my head against the wall.

I needed a better name for this thing. Nothing came to mind. I tapped a finger on the blunt point where the tips of the snakes' tails met.

It reminded me of a sceptre—what many rulers in the Petty Kingdoms Era used as their symbol of authority. It was a fitting reward—hopefully, the first of many.

I let out a loud sigh and closed my eyes.

Finally, some sleep.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Or not.

I groaned and pushed myself to my feet.

I shuffled to the door and yanked it open.

"Dugan, I'm trying to… Oh..."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.