"I thought you said the contract was for twenty-four hours?" I asked. I could always find ways to use all that manpower. I could send them to farm a dungeon or find other ways to keep them busy.
He shrugged. "That's as may be. Still, the conditions remain the same. You've just said it was a five-minute job. That's why you got this price. I can recalculate it for twenty-four hours, if you prefer. Fancy that?"
Scumbag. Never mind. Every dog has his day, especially when the dog has absolute memory. A thousand years later, I'd still remember this day and the way he pulled my strings. Actually, the same applied to me, too. I should really watch my tongue and go easy on making new enemies. This wasn't Kansas anymore. Time wasn't going to heal anything here.
I gritted my teeth and shook my head. "Not really."
"Excellent. I'll PM you the contract template shortly. I'm going to summon my junior coordinator to accompany you for the duration of the contract. This is a compulsory condition in case of hiring fifty personnel and over. Now you'll go to assembly hall six. No, it's not a factory floor but a large hangar-like depot. That's where raid parties are formed, briefed and buffed. You are the raid leader. Choose the teams' leaders as your officers. Try not to split existing groups unnecessarily as it may lower the efficacy of the whole force. The junior will tell you. That's it, then! Thank you for thinking about us. It's your money for our swords. Have a nice day!"
He shouted the last of his speech at my back as he ushered me out of his office and gestured at me to a solemn-looking Barbarian warrior who was waiting in the reception area.
I swung round, sending caution to the wind, about to tell him everything I had boiling inside me, when his office door was promptly closed in front of my very nose. I recoiled. "You piece of-"
"Yes, Sir!" the voice barked behind my back.
I turned around to face the Barbarian. He offered me his hand. "Allorienar, which stands for Widow Breeder, or Widowmaker as our guys here call me. But for you, I'm Alexis."
He gave me an open smile. I enjoyed shaking his strong hand callused by sword use.
"That one," he nodded at the door, "just forget him. It's the management's protégé, some top dog's son. Lots of attitude and an enormous artifact collection. He lays his hands on everything that's not bolted down. Half our guys dream of busting his stashes. Right then, let's go to the assembly room. I've got the contract details already. Looks like it's going to be fun. It's been a while since we gave the Lighties a rocket. Actually, what would you say to a bit on the side? I'd like to invite a couple of reporters to join the group. They pay quality money for an invitation to a good scuffle. Mind you, it's always better to milk them ourselves because the information will leak, anyway, even if only seconds before we jump. Someone always talks. Happened lots of times. Keeping a large raid secret is not easy, and those hacks will pay anything for a tip.
"Which is how much?"
"Ten grand at least. Five hundred each. Easy money!"
I only shrugged. We dollar millionaires—or I could say debtors—don't care much about half a grand. Never mind.
"Go ahead," I waved in agreement. "Just make sure you keep the details secret. They don't need to know them."
Two hours later, I was standing in the thick of a crowd who wished to gawk at the still-alive dragon, generously cursing everyone and their grandmother under my breath. The wretched Patriarch of the Church of Light had promised to close the event by casting a free mass buff for everyone. Ad gloriam, so to say. Circuses and freebies—that was the explosive mixture that had driven over ten thousand sentients to the square.
My three-hundred strong group that had looked so huge in the hangar had dissolved within the sea of people leaving no trace. Zero hour was almost upon us. Warriors thickened around me, squeezing out all the irrelevant individuals, surrounding my fragile frame with their monolith ranks. Obeying unseen orders, they increased the gaps between themselves, forcing everyone else back and clearing a space in the middle. The crowd grunted and gave way, surrendering the area without a fight.
I caught the junior coordinator's quizzical glance and shook my head. I hadn't yet lost hope of reaching the Bone Dragon's mind. The beast was in a bad way. Her massive skeleton, once shiny, was now yellow and cracked; her once-gleaming eyes two dying embers. Amid the crowd's racket, I barely heard what sounded like a dry branch snapping as one of the Dragon's ribs broke. Awkwardly she slumped to one side. The creature was dying.
Was she so dead she couldn't hear me or what? Come on, you bag of bones, speak to me! This is Laith, I've done what you asked me to, you've got two lovely chicks, damn them!
My stare was boring a hole in her as I kept up my rambling, flexing my non-existing telepathy muscle. Finally, her enormous bulk bulged; she raised her head, her unseeing eyes scanning the crowd. The mob roared—apparently, the dragon hadn't entertained them with any signs of life for a while.
Laith?
Yes! Yes, damn you! You've got chicks, you empty skull, a boy and a girl. Phantom ones, just like you hoped they'd be!
With a stir, the dragon forced a feeble wing open and struggled to her feet leaning against it. Crack! Her fragile bones snapped in a whiff of dust as her once-powerful body collapsed back onto the cobblestones. The crowd was celebrating. The priest needed no other encouragement to keep going on about the power of Light and the approaching demise of the Dark.
The dragon raised her unwieldy head. The primal Darkness that once filled her now swirled in barely noticeable grayish spots. But happiness—true happiness—was now gushing out across all band widths. The crowd quietened down, open-mouthed, gawking at the joyous creature of the Dark. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes; then they left her empty sockets clattering across the stones, easily passing through the dome and disappearing under the crowd's feet. A struggle began in the first rows immediately growing into a fight.
The stands protested. Someone especially sensitive jumped up, shouting, "Mercy! Have mercy!"
With that initial impulse, dozens of spectators began chanting,
"Mer-cy! Free-dom!"
Their voices were barely heard in the thousand-strong crowd but still the chief prayer-monger sensed the change of sentiment. He hastily motioned to a thin line of about fifty servants encircling the dome.
"Commence!"
With a jolt, I hurried, Hold on, we're going to get you out now. I've got mercs here with me. Just don't you dare die on us, your chicks are going mad with worry, they're flooding the location with their emotions! They need their mother! Just wait till I lift the dome, then fly to your castle!
The dragon audibly sighed. She paused, thinking, and then whispered a decision that didn't seem to have come to her lightly, Very well, I'll try... At least I can go with dignity, snapping my jaws at them one last time...
She lowered her head. Groaning with pain and effort, she pulled out one of her own ribs. The crowd gasped. The dragon stuck her head into the resulting cavity and almost immediately jerked it back out. In her teeth she had a huge black diamond.
"Heart of a Dragon," Widowmaker commented in the staff chat. "At least a thousand years old, judging by the size of it. What a loot! That is in fact the main ingredient for a dome shield artifact. A Nova class, even. Half a million gold."
Crack! The Dragon munched through the stone. A wave of energy surged through her from top to toe, restoring the clouds of Darkness and knitting the broken bones. Many, but not all, by far not all. But at least now the creature looked like a rather battered dragon and not a dead bag of bones like she had a minute before.