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A trio of worn and ragged forms rushed through the night toward a flimsy shack nestled in a stand of evergreens. When they reached it, the door was flung open and they tumbled inside. A lamp was clumsily lit, revealing walls covered with soggy maps and a table heaped with pages of every shade, quality, and state of repair.
The three figures huddled about the light. The first, Undermine leader Caya, cleared the table with her arm and dumped a leather satchel on the table, replacing the notes with fresher ones. Her partner, Tus, did the same. Their final companion was casting nervous glances through a slit in the door.
"Kel, don't dally. Show us what you've got," Caya said.
Kel was one of the newer recruits and had ended up as third in command fairly quickly, mostly by virtue of the rapidly dwindling ranks of the Undermine. The man dug through his pockets and deposited a few grubby wads of paper on the table.
"That's it?" Caya asked. "Why didn't you bring more?"
"That's all there was. The usual places are empty. All the drop spots. Everything. Half--half of the places aren't there anymore," Kel sputtered nervously. "Commander, I think I heard something."
"Easy, Kel," she said, looking over the notes.
After fumbling through the scattered pages until she unearthed a quill and an ink bottle, Caya attempted to make a mark on one of the maps, only to find the ink frozen. She placed the bottle on the lamp and looked at the map.
At its height, the Undermine had agents in nearly every city. That was when her father had been running things. In the weeks after Myranda's arrival on the grand stage, they had very nearly equaled that. Now things were falling apart. As the ink melted enough to be useful, Caya digested the pages she'd brought with her. One by one, names were crossed off. Cities, safe houses, and informants were scribbled off of the map. By the time all had been considered, there were only a handful of names left, and only two marks on the map. Caya sagged, but the eyes of the others looked to her expectantly.
"Well . . ." she began. "Between desertions, casualties, people turning rat, and all of the arrests . . . membership is down."
"How far down?" Kel asked, glancing again to the door.
"We're it," Tus stated, his eyes on the updated roster.
"Well, not quite, but soon. I suppose we only were able to exist because the Blues didn't consider us a threat . . . now they do," she said.
"About time," said Tus.
"Heh. Yes. At least they are taking us seriously now. Kel, there's too much going on now. My brother Henry is the one giving Wolloff his supplies. If the Elites are still prowling around in Ravenwood . . . I would just feel better with a hand that is a bit firmer on a sword doing the job. I want you to see to Wolloff," Caya said.
"Yes, Wolloff. Where is he exactly?" he asked.
Caya hesitated. By virtue of his status as perhaps the only white wizard not in the employ of the Alliance Army, Wolloff's exact location was a closely guarded secret. Caya, Tus, and Caya's younger brother Henry were the only ones who knew, besides those that he trained. The field healers tended to have a rather short life expectancy, due to their tendency to attempt to desert after receiving their training, and Tus's tendency to silence them when such an attempt was made. Thus it was highly likely that no one captured had been able to supply that particular piece of information. As such, someone eager to become a valued informant to the Alliance Army would be particularly interested in that fact.
"He is . . ." Caya began.
The distant thud of hooves drew her attention. Tus looked as well.
"Where!?" Kel insisted.
"Someone is coming . . . and from the wrong way. We weren't followed here. We were--" Caya said, before being cut off.
"Tell me where Wolloff is!" Kel cried.
They turned to him. His sword was drawn. Caya looked more disappointed than afraid.
"Every time . . . every time! You know something, Tus? It is a sad fact, but the only sort of people we manage to attract to the Undermine these days are traitors," Caya groaned.
"Tell me and I will see to it that they go easy on you!" Kel demanded.
"Tus, would you?" Caya sighed.
In a one smooth motion, Tus slapped the blade from Kel's hands, wrapped his hand around the traitor's face, and thrust his head into the rickety wall of the shack. The would-be informant crumpled dizzily to the ground and caught one final glimpse of the massive Undermine soldier before being brought to a mercifully swift end with his own sword.
Caya and Tus stepped into the cold night, the commander holding the lamp. Sure enough, in a few moments the pair was surrounded by soldiers in crisp, fresh Elites armor, but the men were no Elites. The mismatch of weaponry made it clear what they really were. Caya sighed again.
"Mercenaries? We don't even warrant the true Elites? So be it," she said, casting the lamp into the shack.
As the flames swiftly consumed the contents of the temporary headquarters, Tus and Caya drew their blades. The hired Elites closed in. The battle was spectacular, though brief. One expected strength from a man such as Tus. One did not expect speed. Thus, the massive warrior managed to drive his weapon to the hilt in the chest of a still-mounted soldier before he could react. The subsequent swings struck a more prepared soldier's shield, eventually cleaving it in two.
By the time his initial rush was through, he'd managed to shatter his own sword, killing a second soldier and its horse in the process. Caya raised her single-handed sword, prompting the man who targeted her to raise his own. A moment later, a crossbow bolt punched through his armor. Caya dropped the weapon she'd concealed in her cloak and made ready to put her blade to work, but by then the troops had recovered. Tus managed to burst between the ranks and tear free a piece of the burning shack to use as a weapon, but Caya shook her head.
She was a capable warrior, but a better leader, and as she stared at the wrong end of a trio of mercenary crossbows, she knew the fight was over. She dropped her weapon, and Tus did the same. Prison offered the chance of escape. The same could not be said for death.