The Scumbags Guide to Enslaving Demon's

The next source was calling for hungry roots.

They took the southeast branch of the Deep Table, which led them out of the Ashen Stair and into a valley of white trees.

At first, the orchard looked like it was covered in pale skin. Then the closest tree turned in the wind, and Austin Veyron realized its branches were made of bone. Each fruit was a round marrow pod covered in veins of root, and the fruits seemed to pulse.

Black soil covered the valley floor.

The sovereign echo had left a trail through it that the team could follow. There were no birds in the valley, and no insects. There was only the sound of the orchard’s bone branches scraping against one another in the wind.

Samira halted at the edge of the hill.

”My route ends at the desert wells,” she said. ”From there, I can return east with the map to the Ashen Stair and spread the warning about the source.”

”You don’t have to do that,” Austin Veyron said.

”I understand.” Samira looked out over the valley. ”I’ll take the maps.”

Tessa handed her a copy of the routes. Ceryn gave her a marker so she could pass messages along the relay. Then Samira turned back toward the ash road. She wasn’t leaving to escape. She was choosing a different route to look after. Austin Veyron watched her go until she was little more than a silhouette against the ash mounds.

The group made their way down the hill and into the valley of the bone orchard.

The soil was warm beneath their feet and felt almost alive when they stepped on it. The air was damp and carried a metallic smell that clung to their skin with every breath. Workers walked along the rows of trees, gathering marrow pods into baskets. Every one of them wore a collar of root around their neck, attached to the ground by a red thread. Most of them looked tired and worn out. Austin Veyron saw one worker stumble under the weight of his basket, then straighten up and keep working without a word.

A woman with braided hair caught sight of them. She set down her basket of marrow pods and drew a pruning hook.

”The groves aren’t for outsiders,” she said. ”This orchard provides for the valley.”

”Does it provide for you?” Veyra asked.

She glanced at the collar around her neck. ”It provides for whoever the orchard needs to harvest.”

One of the marrow pods dropped from a tree and split open at its base. Black roots with a red hue squirmed out across the soil.

THE BODY IS THE ORCHARD’S CROP.

Some of the workers stepped back, and one of them let out a distressed cry. Nyra felt her heart shard react.

”The echo is rooted in this valley,” Nyra said. ”It’s building a body out of the orchard’s claim.”

”I’m Arel.” The woman tightened her grip on the hook. ”I tend the southern groves. Three days ago, the roots started talking to me. They said if we gave the orchard our strength, the valley wouldn’t starve.”

”Do you want to leave?” Orena asked.

Arel glanced at the workers behind her. A few of them had stopped gathering to watch. ”I want the orchard to stop feeding on us.”

”Take us to your counting routes,” Tessa said. ”Not the owners’ story.”

Arel led them through the trees. As they passed, the workers stopped to look at them. Their eyes scanned the group for weapons, then moved to their necks. No one in the valley had seen a person without a collar in a very long time.

Arel stopped beside a few of the trees and brushed the dirt out of a small channel. Clear water was running through it. Beneath all the grotesque features of the valley, the orchard was growing good food. Nutrient channels ran beneath the soil, carrying minerals from the water sources. The marrow pods stored medicine and protein for people to eat. The roots were a tough crop to tend, but a rewarding one, and the people of the valley had kept growing them for a reason.

Then someone had added red claim lines to the channels.

Ceryn studied a post with records attached to it. ”It lists worker counts and harvest counts. These red lines say that anyone who works on a tree has to give part of themselves to the orchard.”

Tessa began writing notes on a clean page. ”These channels supply the orchard with nutrients. They don’t need human beings.”

Arel studied what Tessa was writing and compared it to the records on the post. She looked relieved.

The roots began to move.

Root reapers crawled out of the soil. They were made of bones and black soil, with sharp branches for limbs. Each one carried a sickle, and red text was written across their skulls.

TAKE THE STRONGEST YIELD.

The workers dropped their baskets and fled through the orchard. Marrow pods scattered from the trees. One of the reapers went after Arel.

Rin’s arrow struck the reaper’s sickle arm. The limb broke off, but the reaper kept chasing her. Veyra cut through the root line on its chest. Orena pulled Arel behind one of the nutrient posts, and Nyra used her heart shard to keep the workers at a distance from the roots.

As the fight spread through the orchard, Austin Veyron could feel the life flowing through it.

Every part of the orchard was life waiting to be consumed by DEVOUR: bones, blood, and marrow, enough to build a body more powerful than any hunger engine. Austin Veyron could feel it filling him and making him crave more.

”What are you after?” Veyra asked.

”The orchard.”

”What would it make for you?”

”A harvest inside me.”

”If it’s only making something for you, it’s not our target,” Sable said.

Austin Veyron exhaled. The orchard was meant to feed the people who lived in the valley. If he took it for himself, it would only feed on him the way it fed on everyone else.

He read the line on the reapers.

TAKE THE STRONGEST YIELD.

It turned people’s bodies into crops, with no concern for what happened to the ones who were harvested.

”Target,” Austin Veyron said. ”The strongest-yield clause. Not the roots. Not the workers. Not the nutrient channels.”

”Witnessed,” Veyra confirmed.

”Witnessed,” Sable said.

Austin Veyron placed the white root chain on one of the reapers’ heads.

DEVOUR opened. The clause tasted like every life the orchard had ever taken.

TAKE THE STRONGEST YIELD.

He consumed strongest.

Austin Veyron felt the weight of the orchard settle in his body. After a moment, it eased.

The reaper stopped.

Its red lines faded, and it dropped its sickle. The other reapers lost their claim lines and sank back into the ground as ordinary roots and bones.

The workers looked at the paths, now free of reapers. Some of them began walking toward the group.

”We can keep tending the orchard,” Arel said. ”But we need someone to count our produce.”

”Then count it in public,” Tessa replied, ”and have people who can hold the counts accountable.”

Arel touched the collar around her neck. ”Can these be removed?”

Nyra followed the thread down into the ground. ”No. They’re attached to the Marrow Vault below. We can’t cut them yet, or it will kill whoever is wearing them.”

Arel clenched her jaw. ”Then we open the vault.”

The ground shook, and marrow pods began to fall from the trees. The workers shouted and scattered. The sovereign echo appeared in the middle of the orchard.

It had built itself a human body out of roots and bones. It was taller than Austin Veyron and had no face. Its rib cage glowed black and white, with red orchard lines running through it.

”You deny the harvest because you know what strength could achieve,” the echo said, its voice coming from every direction.

Austin Veyron stepped in front of the workers. ”I know what strength costs others.”

The echo dug its hands into the ground and reached for the roots of the largest tree in the orchard.

The soil fell away, exposing a hatch beneath the orchard. The hatch was made of stone and covered in bone fruit. Old source lines were etched across its surface.

THE MARROW VAULT.

The sovereign echo broke through the hatch and fell into the darkness below.

”It’s below us,” Nyra said, holding up the heart shard. ”There’s another source down there.”

”The vault needs to be opened before these collars can come off,” Arel said.

”We’ll go down, and the workers can keep counting their produce up here,” Veyra said.

Arel nodded, and the workers began to gather at the post with the records.

They entered the Marrow Vault with Veyra in front, her sword drawn, and Austin Veyron close behind her.

It was warm and humid beneath the ground. Walls of white bone surrounded them, and somewhere in the distance they could hear a heartbeat. Another source seat waited at the far end of the cave. Threads of root ran from it up into the ceiling of the vault, each one attached to a collar above them.

The sovereign echo stood beside the source, drawing the orchard’s lines into its ribs.

It looked more like flesh this time. More bone and muscle had formed around its arms, and its head turned to face Austin Veyron.

”You want flesh,” Austin Veyron said.

”Yes,” the echo answered. ”Flesh will let me hold on to everything I gain, and I will never have to allow a witness to my hungry routes again.”