Identification: Irda Zelnar, Ekinor Deathlord, 1st Legion of the Iskari Empire

  Level: 24

  Strengths: Strength, Agility, Intelligence, Will, Toughness

  Weaknesses: Charisma

  The Ekinor are the Competitor species of the Third. The Iskari Empire spanned the length and breadth of the Ekinor homeworld before their questionable environmental practices led to the near-extinction of all natural life on the planet. To extend the span of their civilization, they developed powerful necromantic rituals to feed upon the souls of lesser species.

  I’m halfway finished reading and the only thing I can remotely think about is getting the hell out of here. Level 24? Some kind of dead necromancer general king guy? Super hell no. I scramble up the stairs as fast as I can, not bothering to leave my hands and knees.

  “Threenut!”

  “Eh, twig?” the Otachai calls distractedly, turning back to scowl at me. “What are ye about?”

  His green eyes widen to fill his face when he sees the undead warrior flying headlong towards the crimson barrier. I turn to watch, dread holding my stomach in a tense embrace. I don’t know why I’m afraid; he’s falling towards a certain death, nothing to hold onto, nothing to kick off of. Unless he’s got a flying Skill or some other crazy magical shit, he’s going to be ash in three, two, one…

  The red barrier flashes with the impact.

  Zombieman hits at an angle and bounces off with a sizzle like a mosquito hitting a bug zapper. His momentum carries him down and out of the Shift field, and he drops towards the slowly rotating staircase. He spins and lands like a fucking superhero. His head snaps up, his glowing crimson eyes undimmed. Smoke drifts up from the back of his armor, but otherwise he looks unharmed. And decidedly pissed.

  “Run, twig!” Threenut shouts from higher up the staircase.

  “Where?” I shriek, flicking a hand towards the glowing barrier. “We’re fucking trapped!”

  “Higher than ye are, seedling!” He scurries up the steps like a squirrel until he's out of sight. “Hurry!”

  It defies everything in me to turn my back on the threat, but Threenut's right. I spin and throw myself up the steps, wishing desperately for magic that would actually help right now. Strengthen Gravity would just get me killed, and Weaken would help all of us, mummy man included. Gravity Shift would just send me towards one of the walls, and fuck if it doesn't burn way too much soul energy. I have to survive for nineteen goddam minutes, and Shift will tap me out in thirty seconds.

  “Evolution, Competitor!” Kora cries suddenly. “Envision what you need!”

  Of course. I need something to fight him with, and something to keep me running long after my shitty endurance would give out.

  I start to turn my focus inward, but something scrapes across the wood just behind me. I twist aside. A line of burning fire scorches across the outside of my thigh. Hissing, I throw myself forward. Something grabs hold of my hair. My head snaps against the wood. Vision blurs, swims. All I can see is a pair of hideous red eyes staring into my soul.

  Thwam.

  The eyes disappear. Damn. That sounded like a car hitting a tree. No, a tree hitting a car. No…

  “Focus, Competitor!”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and try to quell the sick feeling in my head and my stomach. I fight the urge to throw up. It doesn't help that it feels like the ground is moving beneath me.

  “The ground is moving, Competitor.”

  Right. Shit. Forcing my eyes open, I regain my feet through the power of spite. Threenut crouches over me like a pissed off ferret, his club quivering in his hand. Zombieman kneels on the lowest step, shaking his head as if to clear it. His boot comes in contact with the crimson barrier, and he flinches, smoke rising from the sizzling wound. When he lifts his head this time, astonishment fills his gaunt face. He pokes a finger into the deep dent in his breastplate, deep enough that I wince to think how much metal is currently sticking through his chest. I'd be dead, sure as sunrise, but I guess there are benefits to being, uh, already dead.

  Somehow, he even managed to hold on to his sword. He snaps its glittering blade to the ready, a snarl contorting his face. Jesus. If I thought the he was ugly and intimidating before, holy shit.

  “Best be moving, twig,” Threenut says quietly, not taking his eyes off our foe. “Up ye go.”

  “Thanks, Three,” I say, laying a gentle hand on his head as I pass. “Buy me a little time.”

  “A nick or two,” he says, turning his brilliant green eyes on me. He doesn't have to be human for me to read the fear in them. “Hope ye have magic enough to shake the Tree, or our branches be shorn.”

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  “No promises,” I mutter, hurrying past him. The timer in the corner of my vision has ticked down to seventeen minutes: an eternity trapped with this undead asshole.

  Climbing higher has gotten harder; the spiraling tree must be picking up the pace. My headache spikes and disappears as I scramble up, my soul energy ticking down two points. When I finally make it to the top of the spiral, breathing hard, I turn my attention inward. Inward, to the soul energy burning loosely in my body. It’s a part of me and yet it isn't, but I don't have the bandwidth to entertain how right now. There's definitely a reservoir of power waiting to be given purpose.

  Evolution. Gravity Shift? How would that even evolve? Strengthen could get stronger, I guess, but that would hurt me as well…

  And there it is. I need… Precision.

  The channels carved in my soul are noticeable any time I think of them, like the breath in my lungs or the beat of my heart. At the slightest nudge, the energy roaming my spirit flows into those channels, deepening, strengthening. Erosion that shores rather than shears. The power’s absence doesn’t leave me drained, but invigorated, as if it was a burden I was unconsciously bearing.

  Skill evolved! Weaken Gravity (Uncommon, Magical) has become Weaken Gravity (Rare, Magical)!

  You have the ability to lessen the effect of gravitational forces in a localized area or for a particular entity (as determined by the caster) at the cost of soul energy.

  Energy Cost: Variable

  Cost determined based upon area of effect, strength of effect, mass affected, and souls affected.

  Evolve to gain additional benefits.

  Skill evolved! Strengthen Gravity (Uncommon, Magical) has become Strengthen Gravity (Rare, Magical)!

  You have the ability to heighten the effect of gravitational forces in a localized area or for a particular entity (as determined by the caster) at the cost of soul energy.

  Energy Cost: Variable

  Cost determined based upon area of effect, strength of effect, mass affected, and souls affected.

  Evolve to gain additional benefits.

  I blink and reread the notification. I thought Evolution was somewhat random? Isn't this literally exactly what I wanted?

  “Sometimes we get lucky. No time, Competitor.”

  My soul energy maximum has risen to 142 after absorbing the energy I’d been carrying in my chest. It's only been a few seconds, but Zombieman seems to have gathered himself. Threenut stares down at him from about halfway up the staircase. They each climb almost effortlessly, not taking their eyes off each other. It is a fight Threenut can't hope to win, and they both know it. But whatever Skill Threenut used to dent that fancy looking armor must be giving the Deathlord pause.

  16:03

  Has time ever passed this fucking slowly? I feel like I'm back in Western Civ surrounded by two hundred other bored freshmen, trying and utterly failing not to count the seconds until we're free.

  I mean. Almost like that. I felt like I was going to die then, but I wasn't actually—

  “You are prone to inopportune, ill-advised, and inane internal diatribes, Competitor. I fear it will be our undoing.”

  That's what I have you for, Kora. To keep me straight.

  “If you like that leafy rodent, you'd best act now.”

  Zombieman explodes into motion, his sword trailing behind him like the tail of a scorpion. Something tugs at the back of my mind, a feeling like I get what he's doing. His charge is a feint, or not quite, but something like it. Part intuition, part instinct, it doesn't matter in the slightest right now. Threenut lifts his club to block the feint, buying the deception wholesale. Pouring soul energy into the Skill, I focus on Zombieman.

  Strengthen.

  One moment, the undead warrior is gracefully charging up the moving stairs like they're flat ground, and the next he staggers, his jaw slamming into the edge of the next step. Teeth spray from his mouth at the impact. Threenut, not questioning his fortune, skitters up the steps to join me.

  “What was that, twig?” he mutters, eyeing me warily out of the corners of his eyes.

  “You wanted branch shaking magic,” I say, shrugging.

  “Worthy to tell seedlings, twig. But…”

  “Yeah. He's far from done.”

  My soul energy, a quarter spent on the Gravity Shift that saved Three's life, is dropping precipitously. Already down into the low seventies, I'm bleeding a point a second, or thereabouts. Worse, Zombieman is struggling against the heightened gravity, his undead muscles, or whatever the fuck is under that armor, straining until he manages to lock his crimson glare on us. I can't hold him for much longer before I kill myself, and something tells me losing his teeth hasn't altered his homicidal tendencies.

  “We'll have to do this as a team,” I say to Threenut, glancing at the little plant man. “How many times can you hit him like you did before?”

  “A few,” Threenut says grudgingly, rolling his shoulder. “And I've other tricks to dig out of the loam. And you, twig?”

  “You've pretty much seen all my tricks, unfortunately.”

  “I've seen what's above the surface, but the Tree knows the roots of the sapling can still run deep.”

  And here I was thinking that I had a handle of Threenut’s strange way of speaking. I'm all for tree metaphors, especially since it seems like it's all Three knows, but that one neatly sidesteps my understanding.

  “Okay,” I say aloud. My soul energy drops into the fifties. I brace myself to let Zombie man go. “Ready, Three?”

  “As the wind, twig.”

  Whatever that means. My power cuts out. The undead warrior explodes upward like he was shot from a cannon, slamming into the curve of the spiral overhead before dropping back to the churning stairs, barely able to keep his feet. I can hardly comprehend the strength he must have been using to force himself upright. Maybe I don’t need to use quite so much soul energy if my goal is just to slow him down…

  “Let’s just hope your trust isn’t misplaced,” Kora says skeptically.

  Threenut steps past me and bends again into a crouch, his club trembling. No, not trembling. Quivering, vibrating. Like a tuning fork carrying sound in minute vibrations almost too fast to see. It must be a Skill of some kind, something to increase the strength of his strike. Or to impart resonance? Some sort of sound attack? Was the tuning fork metaphor apt?

  Zombieman launches himself up the stairs in a blur. My lungs constrict. my heart stops. I only just avoid closing my eyes. God damn, he’s just so fast. I reach for my power again, but I’ll never be in time. His glowing red eyes seem to grow to fill the world, full of hate and anger and disdain.

  My death is written in those eyes. Resistance to this thing is futile. What hope do I have of fighting against something so far above me?