Garden Mage

by Tim Niederriter

  Orpus Rakoi’s glowing trio of seal eyes formed a triangular pattern on its slender trunk. The spiraling seals each pulsed in recognition as Edmath closed the door behind him and then approached the young tree.

  “Evening, my good orpus,” he said.

  “Good evening, Edmath.” Rakoi’s voice sounded like that of a young girl, and far more polite than Surba. “Though I suppose now it is night, proper.”

  “Indeed,” he said. “I let time get away from me.” He picked up a watering can and started drizzling its contents onto Rakoi’s roots.

  The tree giggled.

  “That tickles, Edmath.”

  “As always.” He uprighted the can, stopping the water flow. “But just you wait. Rain should fall later tonight, and if not tonight, tomorrow night. That will more than tickle you, my little tree.”

  Rakoi’s seals pulsed. It raised a ghostly root which passed through the soil without difficulty or trace and then solidified to touched Edmath’s arm.

  “I’m taller than you are, Edmath.”

  “Fair enough. I shouldn’t call anyone or anything little, obviously.”

  The tree giggled again.

  “Who else protested?”

  “Just the largest rat in the city, according to her.”

  A floorboard creak drew Edmath’s attention to the balcony of the house’s second floor. A glow of eyes peering in from the hole in the roof overhead told him Surba had climbed the orpus to the top. She gave a squeak, sounding alarmed.

  Edmath called to her.

  “What it is, Surba?” he asked.

  “You’re not alone, wizard,” said the rat.

  “I have Rakoi with me,” said Edmath.

  Surba showed her incisors.

  “No. There is another human in the house.” She inclined her head. “He is coming closer to the inner garden.”

  Edmath frowned, not so much nervous as annoyed someone would drop by unannounced and not even ring the bell at this hour. Could he have missed an appointment with someone from the palace? With Brosk? Perhaps one of his other friends? He lowered his gaze from Surba and made his way toward the door leading inside.

  He put his hand on the doorknob and started to turn it in complete silence except for his breathing. A loud cracking accompanied by splinters of wood flying from the door made Edmath release his grip and step back in surprise. The door caved in under another ax-blow. The large shadow of man rushed into the room, two-handed ax raised.

  Edmath retreated, failing to take a defensive stance. He’d left his stethian by the door on the way into the house. Emerging into the dim cloud-filtered starlight of the inner garden, Edmath kept his eyes on his pursuer. The man stalked after him, slower now, looking this way and that. A dark cloth covered his face from the eyes down. He wore a dark green cloak that concealed much of his shape.

  Rakoi squealed in fear. Before Edmath could reach the tree, its roots encircled his waist. Rakoi leaped onto the wall balcony of the second level, kicking up a cloud of dirt from its garden plot. Shaken, Edmath clung to the tree’s trunk, still not as thick as his waist. Rakoi’s solitary upper seal darkened with weariness while the lower two remained alight.

  “One more jump,” said Edmath. “We can make it to the roof.”

  Rakoi listened and then leapt.

  Surba scurried along the tiles, narrowly avoiding being crushed by the tree’s bulk. Rakoi skidded along the slight slope but caught itself at the edge of the eaves. Edmath spun around and looked back. If the man below was a royal or a mage he could fly or jump that distance and follow them, but he didn’t. So the only way he could get to them now was the stairs from the second floor. Sure enough, as Edmath listened her heard movement heading for the stairway below.

  “We need to leave,” Edmath told Rakoi. He glanced at Surba. “Good rat, your ears just saved my life.”

  Surba scampered up Rakoi’s trunk.

  “I’ll take that as an invitation, strange wizard.”

  Rakoi’s three seals all flickered with weariness.

  “Tell me where to go,” it said.

  “To the city,” said Edmath. “We need to know more if we are to fight back.” Rakoi was by far the most valuable experiment here, so he hoped the trees he left behind would be safe without him. They were larger. They could protect themselves if attacked. “Let us go.”

  Dawn arrived over the tiled rooftops and gleaming turrets of Diar and sparkling on the surface of the sea at the bottom of the hill. Chelka had gone to the islands of Sizali to fetch her research animals and was due back any day now. Of course, now Edmath had to find a way to avoid this unidentified assassin at least until then.

  Luckily the clouds had not opened the prior night. He made his way through the streets with Rakoi, weary from keeping watch through the dark hours.

  He led Rakoi into an alley near his favorite breakfast restaurant. Surba clung to the lowest branch.

  “Are we to remain here?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “You two are a bit conspicuous indoors. And Rakoi will get noticed where it goes, even outside.”

  “I will hide the best I can,” said the young tree.

  “Good.” He glanced across the brightening street at a market cart a big light-skinned man with glasses was pushing by, rattling on the stones. “Keep your senses out for trouble. Surba, you have my permission to come in and warn me if anything happens.”

  “As if I need your permission. We rats go where we want.”

  “Right. Of course, you do.”

  Edmath made his way into the restaurant, rubbing at his eyes at the early light of day. He had been planning to meet Brosk for breakfast on the second floor and was grateful the place opened early enough for him to rest a little first.

  He passed a table where two women in gray traveling clothes were talking softly to each other as they waited for their food. As Edmath climbed the stairs, he could not resist the urge to look over his shoulder. He saw no sign of danger when he did.

  The small balcony area on the second floor overlooked the slope of the city and the sea beyond. Brosk was already waiting at their table, thank the creator. The whale prince raised an eyebrow as Edmath approached.

  “Rough night, Ed?”

  “A terrible one,” said Edmath. “And Brosk, my good man, this is no laughing matter. Allow me to explain.”

  Brosk frowned.

  “Tell me. What has happened?”

  Edmath explained as best he could about the assassin in the garden house, and how he had escaped thanks to Surba and Rakoi.

  “I left my stethian behind. At some point, I need to go back to get it.”

  “Don’t bother,” said a voice from the stairway. “We retrieved your weapon.”

  Edmath leapt to his feet and spun to face the newcomer. His eyes widened in fear.

  Edmath stepped back involuntarily. His heel touched the railing at the edge of the balcony. He stared, nervous at the stocky shape of Ursar Kiet as the Dawkun stepped off the stairs onto the second level. The red cloak of the Roshi’s holy orders was gone, replaced by a gray scarf and a tunic with one sleeve far longer than the other, trailing well past where Ursar’s left hand should have been, would have been if Chelka had not incinerated it from fingers to wrist at Beliu.

  He took a breath, held it longer than he intended.

  “Kiet,” Brosk said, his voice a low growl. “What are you doing here?”

  “I don’t want to break your limbs again if that’s what you mean,” said Ursar. “However, Benisar will not be so lucky.”

  Edmath felt himself stiffen. He stared at the Dawkun, looking for other weaknesses beyond the man’s missing hand.

  “You’re giving me a chance to fight, though,” said Edmath. “Why?”

  “I owe you that much for showing me a new path.” Ursar snarled and drew his sword. “If you tell me where the tree is I will make it quick.”

  “There is not
a chance I will tell you where to find Rakoi,” said Edmath, mind hunting for a way to stop the Dawkun’s lethal gaze.

  Brosk climbed out of his chair, a striker ring on gleaming on his finger and a chain of rings coiled at his belt.

  “It wasn’t you who came after me last night.” Edmath shook his head. “But that’s no coincidence.”

  “Right, I admit,” said Ursar. “I’m not here alone.”

  “Can we take this outside? I don’t want to wreck this establishment.”

  “The time for talk is over,” said Ursar, eyes turning black as his spell spurred to activation.

  Edmath hurled himself behind the frame of the table. The heavy wood cracked in the center. A tear opened in the air in front of his face, ripped by a striker in Brosk’s unrolling chain. Edmath drew in the magic.

  Ursar vaulted onto the table just as Edmath channeled a spell into it with a sign to make the dead wood grow. New plants sprouted from the sides and top of the circular table, growing toward the sun, and some bursting into leaves and flowers. Ursar leapt onto the metal railing and balanced as he looked over his shoulder at Edmath, eyes glinting with deadly menace. Edmath fell onto his back but knew the next second could be his last if Ursar merely lowered his eyes.

  A wave of black liquid, dark as ink, cut between the table and the railing. Droplets spattered onto Edmath’s tunic and face. Brosk ducked in behind the hovering wall of solid black water.

  “A new trick.” Ursar laughed. “You Saales never cease to experiment.”

  “Of course,” said Edmath, pushing himself upright as Brosk held the sign of the wave, guiding the path of the tiny creatures in the water that allowed the wave to keep its shape. “You Dawkun could learn from us, perhaps.”

  “Now we will take this outside.” Brosk pushed his signing hands forward. The wall of water shoved Ursar from the balcony, then plummeted after him. It spattered the ground, but the Dawkun had gone without sound or trace before the water hit the stones below.

  “Damn him,” said Brosk, panting. “That’s all we need at this moment.”

  Edmath shook his head.

  “We need to send for help. I’m going to see the proprietor to send a messenger animal and pay for this table.” He looked at the ruined table where they had been sitting. “Good thing gardening for experiments pays well.”

  Brosk nodded.

  “I’ll keep an eye out to make sure Ursar does not return, then join you in a moment.”

  Edmath descended the stairs to the first floor, where a server and the restaurant’s gray-haired morning manager met him. The two women who had been sharing a table when he had gone upstairs were watching him with obvious curiosity. Surely everyone had heard the commotion above.

  “My apologies.” Edmath offered a handful of silver for the table.

  The manager accepted it with a gracious nod of her head.

  “It is a kind of peril to serve Saales of such skill,” she said, “But perhaps you could be attacked somewhere else next time.”

  “I would rather there was no next time,” said Edmath, “but you have the best saute and oysters in the city, I’m afraid.”

  She folded his coins in her hand.

  “Thank you, Saale Benisar.”

  Brosk came down and joined them. His eyes flicked to the only other people there, the two women. One of them, tall and lithe flushed as his gaze passed. The Whale Prince of Zung could have that effect on women. Brosk turned to Edmath.

  “We’re clear, my friend.”

  “Do you have a serpent to send messages about?” asked Edmath to the manager.

  She nodded.

  “One is a trained messenger.”

  “Then take these too,” said Edmath and handed her pair of silver coins. “Please have your serpent tell Zuria Mierzon her brother wishes to meet her by the palace’s northwest gate.”

  “Understood.” The manager turned to the server. “Donia.” The young girl bowed her head, then scurried off to fetch the serpent.

  Edmath and Brosk thanked the staff, then sat at a lower table to take their meal, which arrived fresh from the kitchens a few minutes later.

  When they left, they headed toward the palace.

  Ursar

  “They are slippery, even for mages,” said Hyreki softly, playing with the hilt of Edmath Benisar’s stethian where it jutted from the binding at her belt.

  Trying to ignore her too-casual fiddling with the Saale weapon, Ursar looked over the balcony beside her, peering at the city streets below.

  “Naopaor’s counter was clever. He clearly disliked the outcome of our previous duel.”

  Hyreki’s lip curled.

  “Scarce few people enjoy having their limbs broken.”

  He didn’t like the way she was so flippant about his abilities, but her smile seemed less scornful and more amused. He wondered about her powers. She was clearly a mage of some kind, but so far he doubted her as any kind of Dawkun he knew, and she did not seem like the sanctimonious Saales.

  “They find out soon when they face me,” he said.

  A shadow detached from the doorway under the eaves. Santh prowled onto the balcony, somehow managing to move silently despite his towering height and thickly muscled build. Ursar scowled at him.

  “Where have you been?” he asked.

  Santh ignored him, faced Hyreki.

  “Lady Denyal, I’ve found them. They’re waiting by the western gate of the palace, clear as day on the street. The tree is with them.”

  “We don’t wish to draw undue attention,” said Hyreki. “Have the mercenaries keep an eye on them while we move closer. I have a feeling these Rooster Tribe folk will not have much success on their own if they attack.”

  “As you like…” Santh bowed low. “…my lady. I would have a word with Kiet if you allow.”

  “I will allow it,” she said with a smile at Ursar. “Don’t be too rude, either of you.”

  Hyreki put a hand on Santh’s shoulder. He held position while she continued past him into the house. She paused, still facing into the shadows. Her bare shoulders shone in the daylight, framed by strands of dark hair.

  “And don’t take long,” she said before she vanished from sight.

  “As you will,” said Santh, raising his head. He turned to Ursar.

  “What do you want?” asked Ursar, not trying to hide his scorn. “For a non-mage you have skills, I’ll grant, but in battle with a Saale your abilities won’t be of much use.”

  Santh walked to the balcony’s edge where Hyreki had been standing. He put his hands on the patterned wooden top of the railing.

  “Is that what you think? My good Dawkun, you are as blunt as your features.”

  “Not all of us can hide as well as you. Are you going to do more than insult my face?”

  “Kiet,” Santh said, “Lady Denyal and I have worked together on more than one occasion. We are a team—”

  “But not team mates,” said Ursar.

  “Not in that way, no.” Santh’s fingers curled around the wood of the railing. “But listen to me. We are kindred spirits in a way you and she can never be.”

  “How so? Neither you or I is royal, but I renounced the heritage of one. What of her? You call her my lady, but she seems anything but yours. Perhaps she is not titled either.”

  “Oh, she is most certainly royal. One of the highest of her tribe.”

  “What tribe is that? What is her tosh?” Ursar asked.

  “Some things are best seen, not simply told.”

  Ursar scoffed.

  “I doubt you have even seen her tosh, the way you deflect.”

  Santh shrugged.

  “Believe what you will. Belief does not create truth.”

  “Neither does boasting. Is there something else you wish to tell me?”

  “Not personally. But do what you can when you go along with Senei and Rewebb to scout ahead. After that, I will inform you of our nex
t move.”

  “How will you find us once we’re separated?”

  “I can find you whenever I wish, never mind where.” Santh turned from the balcony. “You’d best be in motion soon.”

  “Will accept that order from Hyreki, not from you.”

  “Did I not put gold in your purse?”

  “At her command.”

  “At her command.” Santh smirked. “Finally, you make a little sense.” He walked inside without another glance at Ursar.

  Steaming with barely restrained inner flame, Ursar looked over the city another moment longer. He breathed deep, fighting to cool his fury. The man would know his foolishness. If Santh survived clashing with the Saales, Ursar could end him regardless. Such would be appropriate repayment for his insults.

  Ursar joined a woman with the limp and a wide-brimmed hat of dull yellow plains-grass just outside the door of the house. She adjusted her hat to shield her from the sun. Despite his lack of physical stature, she was a little shorter than him, and leaning slightly on her bamboo cane made her seem shorter still.

  “Senei,” Ursar said. “We’re to scout ahead. Where’s Rewebb?”

  She shrugged.

  “Where does a weed mouth go when the sun rises?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know.”

  “He likes the shadows. Bright lights tend to hurt a smoker’s eyes,” said Senei. “How rare is plains-weed in Roshi that you don’t know that?”

  “Rare enough in my order.” He turned to see a trickle of smoke drifting from the mouth of the alleyway behind the house. “I take it that’s him?”

  A man with short dark hair and a lean build stepped out of the alleyway, lowering a pipe from his smoking mouth. He wore only a cloak and trousers, displaying a toned physique and lean build. He grinned at Senei looking more a hungry wolf than a rooster, despite his tribe.

  “Right you are, Dawkun,” said Rewebb. “So they have us scouting, eh?”