I sized up the three men and one woman. Not one of them was over Level Fifty-One, but all of them had made it to Rank One. Two of them were Fighters, one a Mage, and the last was a Warrant Officer. I had no idea what that meant, but she had a backpack filled with almost as many gizmos as mine.

  They stopped at the clearing’s edge, looking a touch uncertain.

  I couldn’t blame them.

  On the one hand, there were four of us and four of them, and we’d just used Tori’s scepter buffs for the day. They could probably get Jessica and Calvin down before we could stop them. And based on what we’d seen, if they had orders from the Crusade, they might go through with them.

  We’d also just leveled—all of us—and we out-leveled them if you didn’t count our noncombatants. They wouldn’t survive any attack on us.

  I could probably take all four of them.

  But did I have to?

  No. They were out-gunned, and they knew it. The woman in the back—the Warrant Officer—cleared her throat. “On behalf of the Fireborn Crusader, we’re supposed to make sure you get to Whiting safely.”

  “Ain’t gonna check who we are?” Calvin asked.

  She shook her head, and I got a good look at the three-fingered scars burned into her temples. “No, sir. You’re who we think you are, and you’re where Crusader Liu’s Scryer said you’d be. If you don’t mind, sirs and ma’ams, he’s not a man to be kept waiting. Please follow me.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t think they’re a threat.”

  “No, sir,” the woman said again. “We were specifically chosen not to be a threat. Crusader Liu doesn’t require an escort anywhere in the Lake Michigan area. There’s not a person who can rival him between Indianapolis and Denver, most likely. He only brought us along to keep his Scryer safe and act as an honor guard—much like you brought additional fighters to keep your leaders safe.”

  Jessica looked about ready to turn around. I didn’t blame her; so far, we’d been in contact with the Fireborn Crusade for less than two minutes, and they’d already casually revealed a ton of information. Tori was the first to recover, though. “How far can Liu’s Scryer see?”

  “His vision expands with every level. We knew approximately where you were once you got ten miles out, but he could only see you clearly within a mile.”

  Tori thought about that. Then she nodded. “Thank you.” She shot Jessica a look—one that screamed ‘let’s just get on with this’—and I couldn’t help but agree with her. I glanced across Lake Michigan—even this far away, the Sears-Willis Tower loomed over the changed Chicago skyline. We’d handled that. We could handle this.

  “Are we good?” I asked. Then I stuck my hand out toward the Warrant Officer—Stephanie Smith—and gave her the standard Midwestern handshake. “Nice to meet you. Hal. Hal Riley, from Cozad.”

  Whiting hadn’t been spared from the world-grafting.

  The Fireborn…cultists was probably the closest word for them, but it didn’t quite seem right. The Fireborn cultists led us through the small town to a brick building. A sign hung over the shattered glass doors with the words ‘City Hall’ across them; right across the street, brambles and bladed leaves loomed over the asphalt. These were different, though. In Chicago, they’d been more or less under control in the areas where the orcs lived. Here, a path had been burned through them. Everywhere else, they grew into the Earth sides of the graft.

  The locals had fled. I didn’t know where they’d gone, but someone must have survived Phase One here. Had they left during the grafting, headed toward Chicago or Gary, or been driven out by the brambles, thorns, and plants? Or—and I hoped it wasn’t the case—had the Fireborn Crusade broken them apart and eaten them whole?

  We followed Stephanie the Warrant Officer into the torchlit City Hall, and a wall of metal stood to greet us.

  Taven Liu: Level Seventy-Two (Rank One)

  Class: Fireborn Crusader

  Vaguely Asian features, mixed with something Eastern European. Not a single hair on his unhelmeted head. A greatsword—a real one, with gems inlaid on the hilt and a simple, unadorned blade designed for cutting—across his back. A smell that wasn’t unpleasant but was smoky and earthy at the same time.

  And two Flamecallers.

  The bone, fire, and smoke snakes each loomed even taller than Taven Liu. They were both Level Fifty-Five, and both were summoned minions of Liu. They reared up, perfectly silent and perfectly still, until Taven snapped his fingers and both curled down below the conference table in the middle of the room. He had them under control, and as far as I could tell, they weren’t a threat.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “Thank you,” Taven rumbled. His voice hit me like thunder across the plains. “You may wait outside.”

  The four cultists nodded and marched away, and for the first time, I noticed the sixth member of the Fireborn Crusade. He didn’t move for the door. His eyes were glassy, and his hair ash-white; he stared into the dying embers of a campfire he’d made in the corner; despite the carpet under it, nothing had burned but the kindling he’d brought.

  Chen Liu: Level Thirty-One

  Class: Flameseeking Scryer

  Both Lius sat at the table; Chen guided himself over with his hands, while Taven’s weight—and that of his armor—caused his chair to creak ominously. “Please, sit. We have much to discuss, and I must begin with an apology. My Enforcer, Rendon, misinterpreted my orders with regard to Museumtown.”

  “So you didn’t want us conquered, then?” Calvin asked. One of his eyebrows went up.

  “No, I very much did want you conquered, but he was supposed to negotiate the terms of your surrender and induction into the Fireborn Crusade. His inclination was toward violence, but I thought the Crusade’s needs would trump his. I made a mistake.”

  “Damn right,” Calvin replied.

  “Say we accept your apology?” Jessica interrupted. She’d been composing herself the whole walk here, and her voice had the same cutting seriousness it did when she threatened me every time I dragged Tori into a dangerous dungeon. “We agree to let bygones be bygones, call your dead payment for the deaths you caused us, and try to move on. What then? You go back to trying to conquer us, and nothing’s changed?”

  Taven smiled. “No. Everything has changed.

  “In Phase One, I had an army ready to assault Gary’s closest Tier Three dungeon the moment it opened. We had it beaten within a day, and could focus on making the rest of southern Lake Michigan mine. I was in control of the situation. But I’ll be honest for a moment, I’m not anymore.”

  The table went quiet. I tried to understand what he was saying. The parts didn’t make a lot of sense to me yet, but I had a guess. “Orcs?”

  “And other things. It seems that Phase Two will be a challenge for the Fireborn Crusade, and what’s left of Earth will have to wait. I propose the following: a nonaggression pact, with this building being neutral ground between Chicago and Museumtown on one side and Gary and the Crusade on the other.” Taven sounded exhausted. For the first time, I noticed that his smoke-gray armor was covered in dozens of cuts and scratches. He’d been fighting.

  “For how long?” Calvin asked.

  “A week, followed by an additional meeting here to discuss further terms. During that time, the Crusade will not cross our border with you, and will give twelve hours of time following that meeting before any further hostilities happen.”

  “No,” Jessica said. “I don’t agree with this.”

  “Frankly, Ms. Silvers, what you agree with doesn’t matter. I don’t believe you could fight me—“ Taven gestured at me, the twins, and Tori “—with what you have here. I have a dozen people at Level Sixty. It would cost us fights with the grafted areas, but we could crush Museumtown right now. I only ask for these terms to spare everyone unnecessary fighting.”

  Before Jessica could respond, Taven stood. Both the Flamecallers uncurled and fell in behind him with a snap, but one reached a single clawed hand out, and Chen Liu reached out to grasp it. “Think it over. We’ll be waiting outside.”

  As he walked out of the room, the torches sputtered and died behind him, leaving us in an eerie twilight. It reminded me a little of the Hardcore Tutorial.

  “That Scryer’s going to report everything we say,” Tori said immediately. “Don’t give away anything we don’t have to.”

  “Agreed,” Calvin said. “So, do we take the deal?”

  “No,” Jessica said. “We don’t need to bow down to this guy. If he’s telling the truth, his section of Earth got grafted harder than Chicago, and he’s making the deal so he can focus on his own stuff. Whether we accept it or not, he’s going to be busy for Phase Two.”

  I stared at Jessica. Then I cleared my throat. What I said next had to be said with as much care as I could muster. “Jessica, when you feel like people who are your responsibility are in danger, you do the same thing my mom does on the farm back home.”

  “And what is that?” Jessica snapped.

  “You turn into a Momma Bear.”

  I stared at Tori. I’d been trying to figure out how to say it politely, but she’d just gone for it and ripped the band-aid off in one pull. She grinned apologetically at her stepmom and shrugged. “It’s true. You’ve been threatening Hal since you met him, and he believes you. Never mind that he’s strong enough to kill you in one hit. He believes you’d try to kill him if anything happened to me.”

  “I do,” I said reluctantly.

  “And it’s been funny to see him so scared of you,” Tori continued. She looked at me, then shook her head. “Not scared. Respectful and taking you seriously, even as the level gap gets bigger and bigger. But you kind of do turn into a Momma Bear, Mom.”

  For a moment, Jessica looked like she was about to explode. Then she started breathing deeply and forcing herself to calm down. Eventually, she smiled—not at me, but at Tori. “I guess you’re right. So, if I’m being too much of a Momma Bear to make good choices, what do you think, Calvin?”

  “I think he’s lying through his teeth,” Calvin said. “I think he’ll use the ceasefire time as a chance to expand his influence all over the Lake Michigan area, and when it’s done, he’ll be back with an army. But I also think we should take it. We can’t fight him right now. He’s right about that. But in a week? If Hal and Tori figure out how to deal with their bottleneck? Or maybe even ten or twelve days? That could be different.”

  I interrupted. “You’re both missing something.”

  “What?” Jessica said.

  “In less than a week, we’re all going to be looking for these Waypoints. We don’t know what’s happened to places that didn’t clear their Tier Three Dungeons yet, but chances are good the Fireborn Crusade is going to be searching hard for a Waypoint near them. They’ll be too busy after a week to worry about fighting. Taven Liu’s not dumb. He’s built like a barn, but he’s not dumb. He knows we won’t be at war with him right after the week, and we know he won’t go right back to war with us.”

  I was lying through my teeth, just like Taven had been.

  Calvin was right. We needed to accept the ceasefire. But I couldn’t explain my real reasons for wanting it, and everything I’d said was sort of true. Taven had a problem. He was looking for a solution. The ceasefire removed unnecessary parts from whatever he was building. It also helped us.

  But not for the reasons I’d mentioned.

  We talked for a while longer, eventually agreeing to accept the ceasefire. Jessica was furious about it, but in the end, we convinced her. Then, after discussing how to make it happen, we emerged from City Hall into the late afternoon air.

  Taven Liu and the Fireborn Crusade were gone.