Max slowly pushed the heavy oak door of the guardhouse open. Late afternoon light streamed into the dusty room. He stepped out into the sun, patting his blade he had retrieved and sheathed. He walked no more than three feet before stopping, staring down the man who hunted them. Miranda came up beside him, her face set like stone.

  “You two have been a massive pain,” Verick said with a heavy glare. Max scanned him quickly, verifying what he and Miranda had noticed in the second story of the guardtower. An empty quiver. “When I’m on the scene my targets are dead within hours, a few days if I have to track over a long distance. So congratulations, you made me try.”

  “Surrender,” Max said. He tried to project confidence, but his heart hammered against his ribs. Miranda had spent so much energy killing the vampire that if she cast another spell, she might blow away in the wind. Max was standing firm, but he had no idea how he would fare against a contact killer, even an unarmed one.

  “No,” Verick said flatly, before raising his hand to his quiver. Why? It’s empty. Then Miranda gasped. Max looked to her and saw her eyes flitting around, a soft blue light slowly overtaking them.

  “Max, remember, his gear… it’s enchanted,” she stammered quickly. Max turned back to Verick to see a smile spread across his face. He reached up and brushed the rim of his quiver, where a sheet of steel was inlaid into the leather, etched with runes. Verick spoke a few words and the air popped. Light bent around the quiver; blue sparks of light burst forth. Then in his hand, Verick held an arrow. A shaft made of pure energy, it sparked and crackled like electricity. Shit!

  Verick nocked the arrow and pulled on the bowstring. “I always get my target.”

  He released the string and the arrow flew. It carved through the air towards Miranda’s chest. Max turned without thinking, grabbing Miranda in a hug. He put himself between her and the shaft of light. He braced for the impact, and most certainly death.

  Instead of the sharp pain of an arrow ripping through flesh, Max only felt a short puff of air on his back as the shaft disintegrated. He paused for a moment. Nothing? It was starting to dawn on him the true extent of the absence of an aura. What did Miranda say? In order for the magic to interact with the physical it has to interact with the soul, i am immune to magic.

  He released Miranda, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. Then he turned to Verick, a newfound confidence in his posture.The hunter’s face was a mask of shock.

  “What are you?”

  Max ignored him and took a step forward, then another. He tightened the buckler on his arm and reached for his dagger.

  “Max,” Miranda said from behind him. He turned to look at her. Her face was set and held high, the realization dawning on her too. “Remember, his best gear is… enchanted. Also, don’t kill him, I want information.”

  “I don’t think he’ll have a chance,” Verick spat back at her as he reached to his quiver to summon another arrow. Max cleared the distance quickly, in long deliberate strides.

  Verick scrambled back as he tried to activate his quiver again. It sparked to life, but not soon enough. Max stepped in close. Verick cursed as he was forced to abandoned the bow, tossing it aside and whipping two long daggers from his belt. He whispered an ancient word and his daggers ignited with magic. The two blades almost appeared to drag him into a ready position. He lunged, the dagger aiming for Max’s throat.

  Verick moved with alarming speed, his boots glowing as steel inlays activated their hidden magic. Max barely had time to raise his buckler before the hunter's blade smashed into it, sending a shockwave up Max’s arm that rattled him to the bone. He scrambled backwards desperately trying to block the man's rapid attacks. For a terrifying moment Max was scared he had messed up. I am going to die.

  Then Verick's next attack came in, slower. He lunged at Max, projecting himself terribly. Max thought it was a feint at first with how slow the strike was. He stepped back raising his buckler as the blade sailed past him, and Verick along with it. What?

  Verick stumbled as the magic on his dagger flickered on and off. Max recognized the error he made, the overextension. A novice mistake Gerald had beat out of him when he was 12. The man's not self correcting, he's waiting for the magic to do it for him.

  Max changed tactics, he didn’t try to fence with him. He didn’t try to be graceful. On Verick's next lunge Max was ready. He dropped his shoulder and slammed his buckler into Verick’s attacking arm. Crunch.

  The dagger went spinning. Verick howled, his rhythm broken, staring at his last remaining blade in confusion. He shook it like a broken piece of equipment. “What? Work damn you!”

  Max ignored him. He threw an onslaught of punches. He took a few nicks from Verick’s blade here and there but almost every single punch landed, some backed up by the weight of the buckler.

  Every time he made contact with Verick or his buckler blocked the man's dagger Verick slowed. His movements became clumsy, his attacks slower than the drunks at the Weatherbreak Inn.

  Then Max realized what was happening. He doesn't actually know how to fight. Dorin was a greater threat than this man. Max glanced at the man's boots, the magic flickering on and off like a fire refusing to ignite. He’s relied on magic enhancements for so long he forgot how to fight. With new confidence Max kicked up the pressure.

  It wasn’t long before he cornered the hunter, bloodied and bruised, against the stone wall of the guardhouse. Verick slashed wildly with his remaining dagger, a frantic look in his eyes. Max took the cut on his forearm without flinching, stepping inside the hunter's reach.

  He grabbed Verick’s wrist, twisting it until the bone popped and the second dagger fell. He drove a knee into Verick’s stomach. The hunter folded in half, bile spewing from his mouth. Max didn't let him fall. He grabbed the man by his collar, hauling him back up, and shifted his grip on the buckler so the small steel shield rested on the back of his hand.

  He backswung hard, aiming for the man’s face.

  Crack!

  Verick’s head snapped back, blood spraying the stone wall. The hunter crumpled to the grass, twitching once, before going still.

  Max stood over him, chest heaving. He waited for the man to rise, but he didn't. He looked at his bloody knuckles, then down at the unconscious man. I didn’t kill him, did I?

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  Max quickly knelt, checking for a pulse. Strong and steady. He exhaled, a long sigh of relief.

  “Good work, farmer,” Miranda said, walking up beside him. She looked down at the bloody, unconscious figure. Verick looked small in the grass, just a man in fancy leather. She kicked his leg with her boot in disgust.

  “Tie him up. I have some questions.”

  ***

  Verick awoke almost an hour later. He squirmed against the heavy rope Max found in the guardhouse cellar. Max also found a nice leather knapsack that he filled with a few vases of pickled vegetables and various survival gear. Most everything else was rusted or rotted.

  “How’s the head?” Max asked, trying his best to sound intimidating. Verick winced at the mention of his injury and turned to Max. He rolled his eyes and looked around the room. They were back in the guardhouse. Miranda’s idea, she didn’t want to risk the other bounty hunters showing up unannounced. However, what limited divining she could do in her condition suggested they were alone.

  “Verick of Valewood,” Miranda said slowly, sounding out each syllable. Verick turned to her at the mention of his name, glaring at her with a death stare. “To be honest. I’m disappointed.”

  “Oh shut it, abomination,” he said, spitting at Miranda’s feet in disgust. She rose and smacked him across the face. Then grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her.

  “I’ll show you an abomination,” Miranda said with venom. “I may be out of reserves now, but we could always wait. Keep you around just long enough for me to melt you from the inside out.”

  Verick said nothing and just stared at her for a long moment before looking away. Not exactly going how we wanted. Max decided to change tactics. He cleared his throat and gestured for Miranda to move away from the hunter.

  “Come on now, Verick. I beat you fair, you owe me answers.”

  “Fair?” Verick exclaimed. He shifted in his binds as if he was trying to stand, then gave up with a heavy sigh. “There was nothing fair about that fight. My magical enhancements kept faltering, my arrow did nothing but peter out and die. And you, your aura. What the hell was that? Even now I sense nothing from you.”

  “Seems to be the question of the century,” Max said with a bored tone. All his life magic, wizards, witches; all of those concepts had terrified him. Now he just saw them for what they were. Men and women with a little bit of power and a lot of ego. “A question we do not have an answer to, and are not interested in at the moment. So if you please, answer her damn questions!”

  Verick glared at Max, but this time with a little more uncertainty. He turned to Miranda and nodded for her to ask.

  “Who hired you? Why take a contract so far from home? What is the Conclave planning?” Miranda shot at the man in rapid-fire succession. She leaned forward, waiting for a reply. Verick hesitated for a moment, looking a little confused.

  “Well… you answered your first question with your last. The Fated Death, of course. Said one of their little assassins got into some taboo magic and needed put down,” Verick explained, adjusting his back for comfort. “I don’t normally take contracts from the outlaw Conclaves but the pay was good and some of the more… mainstream Conclaves urged me to take the contract. So I did.”

  Miranda reeled back in surprise, maybe even a little hurt. “The other houses wanted me dead?”

  “Well, I don’t know about any specific houses that wanted you dead, just some of the Magistrates from various Conclaves across the plains. I mean, that’s what happens when you mess with taboo magic.”

  “I didn’t do this!” Miranda shouted at Verick, gesturing to herself. It was Verick’s turn to reel back in shock. “Graves did this! That monster has been playing with life and death for who knows how long and now the other houses want something done? Now they send someone to clean up?”

  “I didn’t know…” Verick said softly. He actually looked sincere. “Of course Graves is bad news, if the other houses could, they would end him tomorrow. But that’s sort of hard when your enemy is a powerful necromancer.”

  Miranda laughed, a heavy, almost evil laugh. It wasn’t full of humor but pity. She shook her head and turned away from the two of them. Verick actually looked at Max and made a face that said ‘what’s with her?’ Max mouthed ‘shut up’ and walked over to Miranda.

  “Miranda what is it?”

  “Graves,” Miranda said after a moment of silence.

  “Graves?”

  “High Magistrate Graves, or as he is known to us: High Magistrate OF the Graves.” Miranda turned so she was talking to Verick and Max. “He isn’t just a necromancer… he’s a lich.”

  Verick physically recoiled at the word. “Impossible! They don’t exist, not anymore.”

  “No, they very much still do, but don’t you know that…. Verick of Valewood. Who was it that destroyed your forest’s warden?”

  Verick looked to Miranda, pain and shame in his eyes. “But I killed him, put an arrow through his eye.”

  “Oh yes, I know,” Miranda said bitterly. “He often complains about the headache he still gets from the wound.”

  Verick lowered his head, lost in some distant memory. What are they talking about? Max turned to Miranda.

  “Miranda, what’s a lich?” Max asked, almost not wanting to hear the answer.

  “Someone who has attempted immortality. Someone who used necromancy to try and preserve their own body past its limits. An undead with immense amounts of magic,” Miranda said softly. “Their souls get corrupted by the magic, turning their minds and their bodies into husks of their former selves.”

  “Graves is a lich…” Verick said, mostly to himself.

  “Which brings me to my unanswered question,” Miranda said, lowering her head so that she could be eye to eye with Verick. “What… are… they… doing… here?”

  He looked annoyed by her cadence and just shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m just a hunter, a contract killer. They would have sent their own assassins but the damn fools would have gotten lost in the woods. As you can remember they practically did. And those bounty hunters were less than useless, sent them away this morning.”

  “You have to know something.”

  Verick looked between the two then down at his binds. He sighed heavily. “I really don’t know, I… All I know is that they needed you dead soon. That’s what they said, ‘soon’. I don’t think it has anything to do with you specifically, I think they wrote you off months ago. There’s something else going on, something they are holding close to their chest.”

  “The spell at the farmhouse,” Max said aloud, turning both their heads. He looked to Miranda. “You said it was from weeks ago. They must already be in the area, preparing for something big.”

  Verick nodded to Max’s assessment. “I would agree with that, yes. And whatever it is it has to do with that town up ahead. When I was meeting with them I spotted maps with camps and points of interest. The town under the mountain was circled several times.”

  Max and Miranda both looked at each other. Her eyes looked weary but determined. Max tried his best to look supportive and confident. There won’t be much rest when we get to town then.

  “We need to get going then,” Miranda said, grabbing her own haversack she discovered in the ruins. Max nodded.

  “Before whatever they are planning gets more people hurt.”

  “Um, that’s all very noble of you two but what about me?” Verick asked, for the first time trying to look innocent.

  “He might try to finish his mission,” Max said, glancing at Miranda.

  “I won’t! I… I didn’t know he was a lich. Miranda, you of all people should know. What he did to the forest… I swore an oath, one I thought complete.”

  Miranda looked at Verick with pain and pity. “You get to live, but I don’t trust you. Leave him bound, if he is as good as they say he will free himself.”

  With that she turned and left, Max on her tail. Verick shouted complaints after them, which they ignored. Max closed the oak door securely. Don’t want some wild animal to stumble upon him while he’s trying to break free. This will give us enough time to get some distance just in case.

  Max caught up with Miranda. He turned to look at her. “You ready?”

  “It’s going to be dangerous.”

  “I have your back,” Max said, gripping her shoulder tightly. She smiled at him, warm but fleeting.

  “And I yours.”