Chapter 53. Vale

A handful of sporelings and passengers had led an assault, but the pathetic attack hadn’t even resulted in injuries, and since then, they had learned their place. But Abe could sense them gathering beneath, plotting against him.

Eyeing across the blanket of stars dotting the darkness, he knew they could be a problem. Lantern was primarily a dreamer shardworld, after all. But where else was he to go? And stopping to deal with them wasn’t an option. He could sense the ship that had taken chase after him. Thankfully, it hadn’t closed the distance, but not for a lack of trying.

When he arrived in Lantern, he had no idea what to expect, but he hoped the Necropolis beneath the city would provide sanctuary.

The lights of the giant cube of civilization floating through the Vale were visible hundreds of miles away, glowing like a beacon among the stars. Soon, the ships that buzzed around could be seen as well.

It was probably best not to be associated with the massacre aboard the ship, so Abe scanned the incoming vessels and positioned the ship beside the path of the largest ship he spotted traveling toward Lantern.

The giant metal hull bore through the darkness, and Abe said goodbye to his hijacked ship and jumped out across the darkness into the vessel’s energy waves, hitching a ride.

They were already close to Lantern by the time he entered the massive ship’s rippling energy, and the remaining journey only took a few minutes; the moment one of Lantern’s ledges was close enough, he jumped across, hooking to rock with his tendrils and pulling himself aboard.

“Finally,” he muttered, stepping onto the rock.

The ship had traveled above Lantern, heading to one of its dreamer harbors, but Abe had jumped well before it actually reached the city, fell past the dreamer-filled surface, and caught hold of a second of the Necropolis. 

The familiar groan of zombies and ghouls soon filled his ears as he stepped into the decrepit, gray streets. And with them, it brought a sense of relief.

But he knew safety was far away. The acorns pulsed with dreamer energy, and even if those chasing him did not catch him, they would draw attention. He had considered heading for the inn and renting a room, which would be ill-advised in his current state. There were too many hungry, advantageous eyes in that place. The chance of his treasures not getting him into a fight with the patrons was likely zero.

The streets were lined with crypt-like shanties with concrete walls and rotted timber doors. He could sense the inhabitants; they were weak. He had luckily fallen into a street for the poorest and weakest of Lantern’s undead denizens, for which he was grateful.

He kept walking past beggars and discarded trash until he found an empty shanty. Its timber door had rotted away and fallen to the ground.

Abe stepped inside and eyed the cold concrete room. Bones were scattered in one corner, but otherwise, it was bare.

“Good enough,” he muttered. But he needed a door, or at least some privacy for what he wanted to do.

Turning to one of the barely conscious zombies lying in the street, he kicked the rotting bag of meat, eliciting a groan as it turned its bald, gangrenous head toward him.

“What to earn some coin?”

The zombie groaned and raised its head.

“Good.” Abe had looted a couple of hundred ducats from the battle aboard the Astral ship; it was only pocket change to him now, but he figured it should be enough to entice one of these zombies. “I need a new door and a deathly core,” he continued, pulling out a pouch of coins and throwing it to the zombie.

The zombie groaned and twitched its head as it looked at the pouch.

“There’s plenty more where that came from. But first, the door.”

“This won’t buy even a pebble of an orb,” the zombie's voice came jerky and rough.

“Just the door for now,” Abe nodded. “I’ll figure out the orb later.”

The zombie-eyed Abe suspiciously for a moment but rose to its feet nonetheless and bowed before disappearing into the street.

These weak castaways wouldn’t have the abilities yet to sense the acorns he carried, and Abe did his best to mask their essence with his own, but he knew if he took them somewhere with powerful beings, he would be exposed instantly. 

For now, he could only hold onto them and hope no one sensed them from afar. But if he could get a deathly orb, he could fill it with energy and then use it to mask the room and, therefore, the acorns. 

Taking a seat in the bare room, Abe waited for the zombies to return. It could betray him, of course, take the money and run, but what choice did he have?

An hour later, the zombie returned, lurching through the doorway, a timber door beneath its arms.

“Good,” Abe said, already standing as he had sensed the zombie when it stepped into the street.

Pulling free the old, rusted hinges, Abe and the zombie lined up the new door and screwed it on.

It was hardly a fortress, but at least it provided some privacy. 

“Good,” Abe nodded. “You’ve done well. Keep the change.”

“Yes,” the zombie groaned and nodded.

Next, he needed the orb, but the only thing he had of enough value to buy one was the acorns. Exposing them brought risks upon himself he wasn’t yet willing to test.

“Go now; I will call you when I need you,” Abe dismissed the zombie, and it bowed as it exited.

Eyeing the brick, Abe picked a spot and carved out the mortar with a claw until the brick was loose enough to pull free. He didn’t like this idea, but he couldn’t stay down here all the time. He had things to do.

Taking the bag of acorns, he stuffed them into the wall and returned the brick. He had picked a spot close to the ground and used the bones to cover the brick, hoping they would hide the now clearly loosened brick well enough.

But the black acorn stayed with him. Whatever happened to the other acorns, he could live with them, even if it would be a major drawback, but he would die before letting go of the black acorn. He hadn’t made that effort and made himself a powerful enemy just to risk losing the treasure.

As he prepared to leave, he stopped and returned to his stash. Carefully, he took out one acorn and left the rest.

“Keep an eye on my new home, and I’ll pay you,” Abe said to the zombie as he left.

“Yes,” the zombie groaned.

He wondered if saying that was wise, but the zombie had fulfilled his requests so far, and these pitiful castaways likely saw him similarly to how he viewed Miss Nia, save his feelings for her, of course. 

Traveling up through the streets, he headed for the Reaver compound. He was still on their books and remembered how the guilds sold loot for their members. He didn’t trust bringing an entire bag of acorns to them, but maybe they would believe that he had found one during his mission and sell it for him. 

“Can I help you?” the zombie behind the counter said as Abe entered.

“You can—the name’s Abraham Evgenia. I took a job here months ago. I bumped into some trouble, and I’m returning just now.”

“One moment,” the zombie said, flicking through the counter's tombs. “May I?” it continued, raising a hand with a black marble between its fingers.

“Go for it.”

Deathly energy flowed from the marble, washing over Abe, and the zombie nodded.

“Identity confirmed. Bare with me a moment, Abraham. There are some inconsistencies with our books.”

“Inconsistencies?” Abe echoed.

“You’re apparently dead. I, um, unfortunately, your salary was passed on to your master.”

“That’s fine,” Abe waved dismissively. “But I was hoping you could help me sell some loot I found during the mission.”

“Oh?” the zombie groaned.

“Can you?”

“Of course. Take a seat. I’ll call you when the appraiser is ready.”

Abe did as requested—sitting in the large foyer of the guild. He noticed some eyes from other guild members settling on him. They could no doubt sense something, but it appeared apparent that attacking one another within the guild was off-limits. However, there was a real risk a trap would be waiting for him out in the streets when he got done. Thankfully, Lantern wasn’t home to the most powerful undead. Even just one stage above, Abe was essentially a lord in this place, and he doubted their kind was going around robbing people in the streets, although they might if they knew the horde he was hiding.

Several minutes passed, and the zombie called Abe up. He was led to the establishment's rear into a private room where a bulbous, deathly gray figure waited for him, veiny folds like muffin tops over its satin pants and stretched shirt.

“Please, come in,” it waved a gold ring stuttered hand and gestured for Abe to take the chair opposite.

Abe took the chair with a nod.

“And how may I serve the good wight today?” The round man said with a blackened smile.

“I have a treasure I wish the guild to sell for me,” Abe said, dipping into his belt pocket and retrieving the acorn. “This.”

“Oh my, now that is a real treasure, isn’t it,” the big man smiled broadly.

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