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where he pointed and saw a gleaming green arrow aimed at him. The arrow moved up and down and shimmered. Illusion magic. A suspicion formed in my mind and I even felt Pecheneg to make sure he was there. He croaked:

“I’m here, I’m real!”

“Uh-huh. So the one to buy the essence was Hinterleaf, that is Sergei, and…”

“And I used it as soon as I got it,” the gnome finished. “It was a long time ago, so I feel no pangs of conscience. If you really need that essence, there’s nothing to do but compete in the Games. But I wouldn’t suggest risking it while Mogwai is at large. Did you know he’s declared you enemy number one? No? Log out of Dis more often, plenty happens in the real world. My analysts track Fen around the clock. He streams practically all the time — both in Dis and in real life. Everyone saw your demotion in the hierarchy of the Destroying Plague. Your rating is struggling, and much depends on it. Your escape from the desert also did nothing for your popularity.”

It annoyed me so much that I couldn’t explain why I’d done that, that it wasn’t cowardice! Breathing in and out slowly, I changed the subject:

“What’s the point in putting your life up for show?”

“Of course, when he’s doing something special, the streams cut off,” Pecheneg interjected. “The rest of the time he sells advertising time and brand mentions. Both real and in-game. He’s used to being at the center of attention. The psychologists say it’s a kind of mania. Fen often continues to stream even when he knows it’s a disadvantage, because he can’t help it. He always needs an audience.”

“Any ideas for neutralizing him and the other legates?” I asked.

“Oh, Scyth, we have plenty of ideas, but so far we’ve relied only on our own strength,” Hinterleaf laughed, rubbing his hands. “But first, you must confirm the partnership — in the presence of an Arbiter, certainly — or refuse it. We don’t need neutrality or friendship to the grave, but reasonable and mutually beneficial collaboration.”

“First tell me about this friction between you and Mogwai.”

The gnome and barbarian exchanged glances. Hinterleaf pulled out a comm amulet and spoke into it:

“Yary, any news on the supreme zombie?”

There was a cough, then the knight’s familiar voice from the amulet:

“Sure, Hint. The scouts say there’s activity at the stronghold. Legates with hordes of raised zombies are moving out from there in various directions. They all have a speed buff of unknown nature; they’re moving as fast as flying mounts. Mumbler said they’re attacking all the main castles of the Alliance, as per the Supreme Legate’s plan. They’re splitting up so they don’t lose Immortality. Each legate has his own personal horde of raised desert beasts. Mumbler got the main castle of the Ferals, he’s approaching from the desert to the south.”

“Who’s coming to us?”

“Mr. Xiaoguang himself. Estimated arrival time — twenty-two hours. How’s the meeting going?”

“He can hear you, Yary,” Hinterleaf answered.

“Hey, Scyth!” Yary said cheerily. “Hope you’re going to be with us. Having an A-class Threat on our side would be awesome!”

“Enough, too soon…” the gnome muttered. “Over and out.”

Done talking, he looked at me. It occurred to me that the whole conversation could have been rehearsed start to finish, including Yary’s friendly phrases. I was against a huge machine with limitless resources and had only my classmate friends, non-citizens and a few retired veterans on my team. Although… why against? Why not with after all? Modus would be worth a lot as an ally, and I would have agreed if not for a suspicion that I was being taken for a ride.

“Who is Mumbler?” I asked, to buy time.

“Liam Driscoll,” Hinterleaf answered. “You know him, he’s the nephew of the Ochre Witch, who you know of. She’s my girlfriend. I know you and Liam had a conflict, but he was acting on Mogwai’s orders. The boy is torn between family duty and friendship, but he continues to provide us with information that he believes will not harm him personally.”

“I don’t understand…” I wanted to ask why Mogwai preferred the Alliance castles to Kharinza, but thought better of it. “Tell me, do you know what my strength is?”

“We thought we did,” the gnome answered. “Thanks to Mogwai’s loose tongue, we know you had Immortality and Plague Fury. That same ‘nuclear explosion’ that you first demonstrated at Kinema. We also know that you abandoned the Destroying Plague. But all the same, you remain a Threat, your potential hasn’t gone down, and that means your main abilities are from the Sleepers, right?”

“Let’s say they are.”

“Yesterday, a certain aggressive orc from the Broken Axe clan was seen in Shak. He entered the Circle and defeated all his opponents, including the previously undefeated champion, the ogre Tashcherra. Do you know what he bragged about once he’d drunk enough free wine? He shouted that he had gained the power of the Sleepers, and that this power is in unity. Could you explain what that means?”

“That’s exactly what it means,” I answered, deciding to go all-in. “It isn’t the Sleepers that give power to their followers, it’s the followers to each other. And the more followers…”

“The more power! Bingo!” Hinterleaf clapped his hands in excitement, jumped up and started pacing back and forth along the edge of the ravine, thinking. Once done, he stopped. “Initially, Scyth, I wanted to offer you an alliance only for the duration of the war with Mogwai. But now, in the name of Modus, Taipan and… uhm… the Travelers, I think, if you agree to us inviting Horvac here, I can guarantee to an Arbiter that I will do you no harm through word or deed or inaction. As a lifetime commitment. Even the trillion reward from Snowstorm pales in comparison to what we

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