Stolen Lives: A LitRPG/GameLit Novel (The Underhill Chronicles Book 1) Keith Ahrens (best e reader for epub txt) 📖

pull out a flask. A simple silver flask with a clever latch for a lid. I pop it open, and the smell of strong, unrefined alcohol hits me. More like assaults me. I've smelled better toilet wine at Riker's Island.

Glancing down, I see the elf has passed out again, the stupid grin still on his face. With no small amount of trepidation, I look up at the moon. My stomach drops into a deep pit when I see how low it is. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will not be able to make it back in time. I drop the flask in the dirt next to the elf and take a step away from him.

I plop down on my ass, in the middle of the dusty road, mere yards from the gigantic rotting corpse of the burning water dragon. Next to me is a real-life elf, and I'm dressed and armed for medieval combat. I'm overwhelmed for a moment by a sense of surrealism, but it soon passes.

Changing my mind, I pop the top of the flask and take a deep swig. I gag a little at the horrible taste and feel it burn all the way down. Recapping the flask, I toss it onto the elf's chest and get to my feet. I still have to try to get home.

Limping, I set off in the fastest jog I can manage.

28Haynes

“How are we doing, Thorn?” Haynes asks, tension in his voice.

“It is done, but we must hurry. You men, fashion a litter from that tabletop, and be quick!” She points to Miles and Grayson, giving orders like the elf-lord she used to be. The two men hop up to comply.

“Belay that order, gentlemen. I think things are gonna get nasty in a minute. I got a real bad feeling that something's coming,” Sarge pulls his pistol out and checks the chamber out of habit. Vince nocks an arrow and peers out past the waning bonfires. Grayson pulls his ax and takes a defensive position with the other Berserker. Miles stoops down and hoists Jesse up over one broad shoulder in a fireman's carry. No one thinks to question the Sergeant’s instincts. He's gotten them this far.

Just then a pair of footsteps, one light, the other heavy, echo out of the cavern behind them. Olivia and Thirax come trotting up the corridor, illuminated by the few torches burning in sconces on the walls.

“Haynes, we found the gate! Colt and Jimmy are guarding it now. There was almost no resistance, only a random ogre hiding by the exit. It’s a clean stroll right out of here!” Olivia says with unconcealed excitement.

“Has the rest of our pack returned?” asks Thirax, first noticing everyone's tense mood. He pulls his short, double-bladed ax from its sheath.

“No, not yet. Everyone get behind the wall and get ready.”

The sound of galloping hoofbeats begins to echo from the distant trees and across the field.

“We've got company,” Vince mutters.

“Fall back… make for the gate,” Haynes says with reluctance, knowing what's to come next.

“Wait. We can't leave without Caleb. And Des and Nian aren't back yet! We can hold out for a few more minutes!” Olivia says, stress in her voice.

Four horses break from the cover of the tree line and spread out across the clearing. Each horse carries a fully armored knight with their lances at the ready.

“Vince, slow them down,” orders Haynes in a neutral tone. “Olivia, we can't ask everyone here to give up the chance to get home and away from this… hell… just for one man. He knew that when he volunteered for his crazy plan. I'm sorry.” His voice weighs heavy with regret.

“No need to be sorry, Sergeant; it’s just that I never agreed with this stupid mission in the first place. No offense to you, but I'm a Lieutenant in NYPD ESU. Different chain of command, but I still outrank you. I'm staying until I find him, or his body. He's earned at least that much from us,” she finishes defiantly and forcefully, leaving no room for argument. She holds out Jesse's pistol, butt first. “Get this back to him when he wakes up.”

Vince lets loose two arrows in rapid succession. They whistle across the field, the first glancing off a polished breastplate, the second hitting the same elf in the gap just above his greaves. The horse turns, carrying its wounded rider away.

The strident voice of Captain Darcasson of Lord Dullahan's personal guard, rings out loud and clear, calling for a tactical retreat. Haynes fires off two rounds, spaced about a second apart, just as a reminder. The knights regroup at the edge of the clearing, just out of effective bow range.

“Sergeant, tell Nian that I've stayed to find our missing pack," Thirax growls softly, in hopes that the others can’t hear. "He will understand.” Staring out at the knights, he twirls his ax with impatience.

Haynes sighs deep and sad but nods his agreement to the Gnoll, and takes the proffered gun from Olivia. The remaining members of their group come up to bid their good-byes.

“We will wait for you at the gate during the next full moon, and the one after that if need be,” Grayson says. “Good hunting.” He pats the taller Gnoll on the shoulder.

Thorn steps in front of Olivia. “If you find the Stupid One, I'm sure he'll have need of these. Good luck.” She embraces the taller woman and presses two small green and white stones into her free hand.

Olivia smiles and squeezes Thorn's hand in thanks.

A clarion horn sounds as an ebony coach, drawn by six coal-black, red-eyed horses, breaks through the flames of the trailhead, their heads broken and battered with sawed-off nubs resting where single, long horns used to be. The horses are agitated and constantly shake their heads as if the seared and broken stumps continue to pain them. An unearthly wail emits from the carriage and begins to build in volume.

The group of humans and the