“He’s daring Aezryna to panic,” said Ravenna, stepping down to sit as the third point of their triangle. “It’s a bluff. If he can convince her that he’d rather give his Gold and the Iron Vanguard to Plassus - and convince Plassus to resist her by his doing so - then he hopes she’ll blink and give him what he desires.”
“So she’ll wait him out.”
“Bravurn’s bluff may go too far,” said Moira. “He may be a creature of logic, but Plassus is anything but. If he goads the Charnel Duke into rebellion, it may become impossible for him to back out.”
“Aezryna knows this?”
“Of course. We spoke long into the night, Aezryna and I. Which is why I’ve invited you here, so that I may share the plan that we concocted together.”
“Here we go,” said Scorio, settling in. “Tell me how I’m to be used.”
Moira’s eyes glittered. “Used? Or be of service? I suppose it all depends on how you look at it. Regardless, we need to stop Plassus from listening to Bravurn’s overtures. Your making Dread Blaze is perfect, for now we can escalate our plan.”
Ravenna leaned forward. “You’re to challenge one of Plassus’ Dread Blazes - we’re not sure yet which - and defeat them in a duel. Upon winning, you’ll then declare publicly for Plassus, and swear to follow his lead.”
“Really?” Scorio sipped his tea. “And why the hell would I do that?”
“Plassus is…” Moira hesitated. “He’s on the verge of a mental collapse. He’s grown superstitious, paranoid, mercurial. He already knows of you, and has let it be known that he wants to recruit you into his army.”
“That was back in Bastion during my trial.”
“His interest in you has only grown since. He’s come to consider you an agent of chaos, someone who can tilt the scales in his favor through your obscene luck. In fact, I think you’ve taken on an almost mystical aura in his mind.”
“The man is cracked,” said Scorio.
“Agreed,” said Moira placidly. “But we need to use his delusions to accomplish our goals. So you defeat one of his staunchest supporters, sending him into a moment of panic, then declare your allegiance, and suffuse him with relief and joy. Once you’re inside his camp, you’ll work to neutralize Bravurn’s corruption, and sway him to ally with Aezryna.”
“Well,” said Scorio, setting his tea down. “It was great chatting with you both.”
“Wait, Scorio.” Ravenna’s eyes flashed. “This isn’t a joke, and it’s not a flight of fancy, either. You’re tempered Gold, and you just made Dread Blaze in a couple of months. That means something to our kind. Your word now carries weight. This plan has merit. If you can convince Plassus to ally with Aezryna, Bravurn would be completely defeated and all but forced to give his Gold mana to both armies. Aezryna’s battle plan would actually have a chance of succeeding.”
“I take it she doesn’t want to just repeat Plassus’ strategy of running around the Bone Plains like a headless chicken?”
Moira smirked. “Where did you hear that description? Never mind, it’s apt. No. She doesn’t want to engage the Blood Ox in old-fashioned warfare. I shouldn’t steal her thunder, but she intends to lead a surgical strike against LastRock while the bulk of our forces distract the True Fiend elsewhere.”
“Why?” Scorio looked from one woman to the other. “Conquering LastRock would only be setting us up for another siege. And we lost the last one, badly.”
“The Gold mana quake that drove the Blood Ox and his elites north has been receding over the past three years. His original forces are consequently both greatly depleted and weakened. He now relies on the alliances he’s made with the hundreds of fiendish tribes that populate that quarter of the Telurian Band.”
“So?”
“So we mean to shatter those alliances. If we can wrest back the loyalty of the fiends, if we can renew the old bonds, then he’ll find himself robbed of his endless hordes, dependent on his weakened elites, and forced to emerge from hiding to do open battle at length with our forces to salvage the war.”
“Which would be a disaster,” said Scorio. “He’s a True Fiend. That’s Imperator level.”
“Yes, Scorio. We’re all well aware. But with his hordes gone and his elites about to be destroyed, we could force his emergence on our terms, and at a predictable time. If we can guarantee his appearance, then the Seamstress has promised to deliver three Imperators who will retreat to the Telurian Band with the express intention of destroying the Blood Ox when he emerges.”
“You’re serious,” said Scorio, sitting forward. “She can do that?”
Moira shrugged one shoulder. “She is a Crimson Countess, and thus if she says she can, I won’t question it. What we need to do is draw the Blood Ox out, which requires removing his endless legions from the board.”
“Which means reaching LastRock,” said Ravenna. “That’s the only place we can do that.”
“But how?” Scorio glanced from one to the other. “You make it sound easy if we can just get inside the city.”
“Not easy,” said Moira softly. “Impossible, really, for virtually everyone on our side. But we have someone who can do it. One person those fiends recognize and fear. One who they obeyed before, and who can wrest their loyalty back from the Blood Ox through their old oaths.”
“Wait,” said Scorio. “Jova? Jova Spike? She’s agreed to this?”
“Oh, yes,” said Moira. “And more than agreed. She’s part of Aezryna’s retinue. This is her plan.”
Chapter 22
“You’re going to make a mess of this,” said Ravenna as she led him higher into the hive.
“Such faith.”
“This is serious, Scorio.” She glanced back at him. “Somehow you’ve been thrust into an important role here, which means you can influence the outcome of this entire war. Imperators are involved. It doesn’t get more consequential, you understand?”
“Yes. I’ve gathered as much.”
Ravenna exhaled in frustration and wheeled to face him. “So why do I get the impression that you’re going to decide you know best and screw it all up?”
Scorio crossed his arms and stared down at her. “You’re not impressed by my track record?”
“Impressed?” Ravenna’s eyes flashed. “I’m terrified by it.”
“Then maybe take comfort that we’re on the same side.”
“No, you don’t have a side. I think Plassus is right. You’re an agent of chaos. You mean well, but you only care about your own priorities.”
“You know me so well.”
“Damn it, Scorio!”
He watched her struggle to find the right words, and finally relented. “I’m going to talk to Aezryna, aren’t I? I’ll hear her out. And despite what you think, I’m not completely unaware of the stakes at hand.”
“Just…” She pressed her fingertips to her temples. “We’re all tools. We’re all being used. Even Aezryna. Even the Seamstress. Everyone is working together to destroy the Pit, which means playing our parts so that the Imperators can one day launch a final strike. There’s nothing wrong with being a team player.”
“Ravenna. Listen.”
The woman dropped her hands and looked up at him in anticipatory exasperation.
“If everything we’ve been told were true, I’d agree with you.” His thoughts spun. How much should he tell her? “But I’ve my doubts. About Eterra. About the Pit. About why we’re here in Acherzua.”
“Acherzua?”
“That’s what the fiends call hell.”
“The fiends? Scorio, what are you talking about? You don’t think we should be trying to destroy the Pit?”
“I don’t know.”