by Bruce Sentar
With a clearer head, he breathed out the regrets.
Truth was he had been in a shitty situation from the start. In this new world, his list of people he could trust with his life was down to less than a handful of people, but somehow his destiny was to save the world.
He still thought he’d made the right decision to take some time to build up additional help for the work ahead. He wouldn’t be able to stop the devils and Mo without more help. But now, as he sat in the dungeon, he still wished they’d just left. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to keep the girls safe while stuck in a dungeon.
Dar let out another heavy breath, focusing on the door. He was pretty sure, between his enchanted body and his dao, he’d likely be able to take the door down and manage an escape.
But he wasn’t sure if that was a smart move yet. He had no idea where he was or what stood between that door and actual freedom. And somebody had recently checked on him, so it was also likely that others were on their way to his cell currently.
So for now, he sat tight, cycling his mana and preparing himself for whatever was to come. His goals were crystal clear in his brain. Get free, get the girls, and then get the hell out of the city. And anybody who tried to stop him would learn to regret their decision for their rest of their pitifully short lives.
Lady Margret was marked, even if he couldn’t do it now, he’d be back.
He repeated the goals in his head, taking deep breaths as he swirled the mana.
Not long after, footsteps sounded from outside his cell. There was another noise too that caught his attention. It was almost like a repeating squeak, maybe from a wheel?
Before they got too close to see him, Dar made sure to put himself back in a slightly wilted state, not wanting to give away that he’d managed to clear his mind and body of the drug.
As the door creaked open, he slowly lifted his head, groaning as he took in what was in front of him. Six men stood before him, leveling spears in his direction and they were joined by Lady Margret. But what baffled him was the person in front of her. Her husband sat there, looking in complete control of his faculties, though still in a wheelchair.
“You should see the look on your face.” Mark threw his head back and laughed uncontrollably. “Oh god, I think I’m crying a little bit. So worth it.”
“You aren’t handicapped?” Dar asked, ignoring the men with spears. “What about your wife sleeping about?”
He was pretty sure he could break through them and kill the whole group, but this was a time for answers.
Mark snorted. “The duke had me poisoned, boy. I had a seizure from the poison, and it sent me tumbling down a flight of stairs. I knew then that I’d have to play things more carefully. My wife’s ‘promiscuous’ behavior is for secret meetings with my supporters; no one suspects a thing. They are too caught up in petty gossip to think there’s an underlying agenda.”
The man clearly enjoyed finally being able to talk as he continued. “You see, he poisoned me for a good reason. I was planning a rebellion. Later, when I was stuck in a chair, barely able to hold in my drool, he mocked me to my face. He wanted me to watch as he lived on. Sick bastard.”
The duke hadn’t seemed vicious to Dar, but then again, court politics were famously insidious if romantic TV shows he’d seen were to be believed.
“Great, I’m happy you are going to get your revenge on the duke one day. But you’ll have to forgive me for not giving much of a shit about your backstory. What does all that have to do with me and locking me up here?”
Mark waved forward, and Lady Margret wheeled him into the cell. “You see, you’ve given me the perfect tool. A grand spirit going on a rampage would be the perfect way to kill the duke and push those damn spirits out of town.
“Especially when you are being held in the duke’s dungeon. Would you like to see one of the other guests here?” He waved for the men to come forward, and someone dragged a beaten woman with light blue hair.
Mika the wave spirit looked broken as two men held her shoulders and dragged her feet along the floor.
“You see, proof that you killed Henry was found. My lovely wife then apprehended you for the duke.”
Dar sighed, seeing how he had been completely used in their game. He and Cherry were nothing more than a bomb. Cherry reacting would set off the tension in the city and give them the opportunity they were looking for.
“Guards, please press a spear to our lovely guest,” Mark ordered, breaking Dar from his thoughts.
The guard pressed into the cell, his spear pointed at Dar’s chest.
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
However, the guard ignored him and put the point to his chest.
“Push harder,” Mark commanded him.
The guard looked over his shoulder to confirm the order, clearly not entirely comfortable, and Dar took the opportunity.
Grabbing the spear and ripping it from the guard’s hands, Dar whipped the butt of the spear right into the guard’s temple, sending him crumpling to the ground.
Margret was already wheeling her husband back while the rest of the men stepped forward, their spears low and the metal tips flashing dangerously.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Mark added from behind the men. “We’ve taken all of your enchantments. You might be a big man, but these men could take down a troll. Do you really think starting a fight is in your best interests?”
A grin spread across Dar’s face. They didn’t know, which meant Mika hadn’t told them. They had no idea what he could do bare-handed.
He was far more dangerous than a troll.
Sinking low to the ground, Dar watched as the spears dropped, then he sprang into the air, his head brushing the ceiling before his whole body slammed into the group of men clustered tightly at the cell’s entrance.
They went crashing down with the sounds of armor clanging together.
Dar didn’t bother with them, charging after Mark. But before Dar could reach the man, more guards were already getting in his way, and Lady Margret was quickly wheeling her husband away.
“Escape! Escape!” she was screaming at the top of her lungs.
The sound of more heavy boots echoed off the stone walls, and Dar realized his time was running short.
Scooping up Mika, he barreled through the next wave of guards, palming one of their helmets and slamming their head into the wall.
Clubs flashed out and beat on Dar, but compared to a clubbing from a troll, these men were children. He was glad they weren’t better armed; apparently, one didn’t need a blade as a prison guard.
Still holding the one guard by the helmet, he threw him forward while still holding Mika, knocking over more guards and pushing his way out of the prison. Men were getting back to their feet behind him, but he didn’t have time to kill them all. For now, the most important thing was that he kept moving forward.
“Mika, are you awake?” He shook the spirit, who until that point hadn’t moved or said a word. But all he got in response was a groan. At least that meant she was alive.
“Guess it is the hard way.” Dar let his mana cycle, letting it fill every part of him.
His channels strained with how much mana was in his body, but it didn’t matter for now. He was focused on his first goal.
Charging through the next wave of guards, he heard calls to close the door and a large and likely reinforced door slammed up ahead.
He got to the door and shifted Mika to his other shoulder before ramming into it. The door rattled in place, but it didn’t budge.
More and more guards were gathering up behind him. Those who had reacted quickly had come in with clubs, but more of them seemed to have found spears as they approached him from behind.
He knew if they caught him again, they wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. This was his best shot, and it was becoming clear that he’d have to give away some secrets to be free.
Summoning his dao of heat to his hand, he blasted the door with enough heat
to turn the lock red hot and the door to smolder.
Shouts from behind him escalated at the sight, but Dar didn’t have time to bother with them, charging forward and once again ramming into the door. This time, he felt the lock give as it warped under the combined strain of heat and his attack.
The men behind him started charging forward as he backed up for one last smash. He felt spear tips just begin to press his back before he sprinted forward, throwing his weight into the next hit.
The lock snapped, and the door swung open. Dar charged out, moving just ahead of the spears nearing his back.
He could feel warm blood trickle down his back from where they’d pressed, but that was barely a concern as he looked around wildly, working to figure out his next move.
Chapter 29
The prison must have been under a barracks because Dar burst through the door to a room full of soldiers in various states of dress. As he crashed into view in his threadbare clothes, there was a pregnant pause in the room as they all stared at each other.
Noting that morning light slid through the window and pooled on the floor, Dar could only assume he had only been out for a night. He hoped everybody was ready, because after what he was about to do, there would be no coming back.
Breaking the silence, Dar grabbed a nearby chest of gear and swung it into the crowd of soldiers. He let the weight carry him as he started to spin like a top with a four-hundred-pound chest in one arm and the spirit held on his shoulder with the other.
Soldiers went down like grass before a lawn mower, the weight of the chest cracking through skulls and sending men sprawling onto the floor. The men in the room were in various states of shock and rage. His threadbare state likely made them think he was without his usual defenses as a wizard.
As he spun, he moved just slightly too close to a wall, the corner of the chest catching on the stone and shattering. Pieces of metal armor sprayed around the room as Dar’s momentum kept him spinning a moment longer.
Shouts filled the room as chaos and confusion took hold.
Not waiting for them to regroup, Dar plowed through the guards on the way to what looked like an exit.
Stumbling out into the daylight, he reached back, pumping heat into the metal doorknob and then sprinting into the street, knocking over townspeople in his rush.
“Sorry,” he called over his shoulder and ducked into an alley, pushing his legs to their limit as he escaped.
Bursting out into the next street, he slowed down and ducked his head to blend into the crowd as best as he could. With his height, it wasn’t easy, but he did his best to not draw attention.
A few people threw him and the girl on his shoulder curious glances, but he ignored them and went with the flow of traffic.
“Mika,” he tried to rouse the spirit again.
“’Ore wine, please,” she grumbled.
Seeing she was at least alert enough to talk, he tried again. Pinching her nose, he got her to focus on him. “Mika, where can we go?”
“Where are we?” she asked.
Dar cast around, looking for some landmark. He hadn’t explored the city very much, but it looked like they were in the trade quarter, not far from the royal quarter. “Trade quarter.”
“Get to the end closest to the slums. There’s an inn.”
Dar nodded, knowing the one she was talking about. “Can you walk?”
“Broke my legs,” Mika said through gritted teeth. “Could you try not to be so bumpy?”
“Sorry, Mika, but we have a bit more to go. This isn’t over yet.”
“Just get us to the inn,” she growled, becoming more of herself by the second.
Dar moved at a focused, yet casual pace in the hope that he wouldn’t draw extra attention. He already had plenty being a large man carrying a half-passed-out girl over his shoulder.
He tried to think of a game plan as they moved, replaying what he had learned. Mark had made his plan to use Cherry to kill the duke clear. And they had Henry’s death pinned on him, although he wasn’t sure how that would hold up now that they didn’t have the spirit.
Shaking his head, Dar decided he didn’t know much about the laws in the area, but he had a feeling he shouldn’t expect a fair trial if it did come to it.
His focus couldn’t be saving the duke. That would be too complicated and give too many chances for recapture. He needed to save Cherry from being used to spark the revolt that Mark so desperately wanted, foolishly thinking that would lead to great things.
In the end, Dar had a feeling it would only strengthen the devils as they fought internally. Mika smacked his back, shaking him from his thoughts as she muttered something about him having the finesse of an elephant as he walked.
Trying not to roll his eyes at the ungrateful spirit, he continued following the path towards the inn, getting close. He desperately wanted to go straight to Sasha and Cherry, but Mika’s plan made the most sense.
The girls would no doubt be locked up and supervised at the moment. They had been staying in the betrayer’s house, after all. He needed to get out of sight and get some allies if he could.
The inn came into view, and rather than go in the front which he knew was likely also supervised, he circled around the block and came at it from the back.
“What are you doing?” A spirit was rolling a barrel of garbage out back. As he spotted Mika, his face shifted to horror and accusation. “What did you do to her?”
“Saved her,” Dar snapped back. Taking a deep breath, Dar tried to shift to a slightly more diplomatic approach. “Sorry, it was just a rough little bit. Can we come in and talk?”
“Nick, we can trust him. He pulled me out of the prison under the barracks,” Mika said.
Dar was feeling his adrenaline fade, and with it, new injuries seemed to be popping up all over his body. His back in particular was starting to feel like he’d tried to make himself a porcupine.
“Yes please, I’m starting to feel pretty tired.”
Nick scoffed. “You both look like hell. Come on, we’ll take you down to the cellar and have Paps come talk to you.”
“Paps?” Dar asked Mika.
“Oldest spirit in the city. He helps look after a lot of us,” Mika explained as Dar followed Nick through a pair of double doors leading down to the cellar.
“How old is he?” Dar asked, wondering how he compared to Cherry and Lilith.
Mika shrugged against him. “Don’t know. Old as dirt. I was around when we were still worshiped, and he was already old then.”
“Worshiped?”
“Yeah, I was born from the waves. Wandered a bit and found a nice little seaside village of humans. Saved them from a big ol’ tiger with my dao. Then they gave me a bunch of braided flowers, wine, and other things while I lazed about. Only had to get off my butt to beat the next big animal to antagonize them.”
“That’s…” Dar didn’t have words to put to what he thought about that. He didn’t realize that was how it used to be, and for spirits who remembered it to still be around, it wasn’t too far in the past. “So, why did that stop?”
Mika turned her head to look at him like he was stupid. “’Cause while we might be powerful, turns out humans like to gather in larger and larger communities and then fight over the limited resources. They always want more.”
Nick’s voice broke into their conversation. “You can set her down here. I’ll be back. I think we have some potions in the back.”
“Thanks, Nick,” Mika sighed as Dar laid her on the wooden work bench that Nick had pointed out.
Dar sat down in a nearby chair, enjoying the moment of peace to rest his body. But after about two breaths, Mika began chattering away, continuing her story.
“So anyways, after a few generations, a bigger village from up the coast came and sacked the village I was set up in. I even fought with them, but the other village had a spirit that fought me to a standstill. I left after that and found another village, but it was like water drops on a window. Th
e big ones move down the pane, gobbling up each of the small ones getting bigger.”
“So you ended up as a wizard's spirit for what?” Dar asked, hearing someone run down the steps.
Nick came back panting, a vial of red liquid grasped in his hands. “Here, you can work out the cost with Paps later.” He thrust the vial into Mika’s hands.
“Thanks,” she grumbled and downed the vial, laying back down as her bruises started to fade before Dar’s eyes.
“Wizards aren’t that bad. It comes with the perks of living in a big house and getting all the enchantments I want to study. I picked up two lesser dao while working for Henry.” Mika paused when Dar didn’t react to that. “That’s a big deal to gain two lesser dao in eight years.”
Dar scratched his chin, thinking about that. For the ancient races, learning dao was more important than anything. If it really did help that much, then it might actually be worth it to some of them to work for the wizards. But Dar still couldn’t believe it was worth the conditions they dealt with.
“Well, Mika, what brings you back?” a voice that creaked with age spoke as a pattern of a thump followed by two thuds sounded from the stairway.
The voice was followed by the entrance of a hunch-backed, old man with hair like sand. He walked with a cane, making the repeating thumping pattern.
“Paps.” Mika tried to get up, but Dar put a hand to her chest to keep her from getting up while she was still healing.
“Need a hand?” Dar asked.
The old man focused on Dar and sucked in a gasp. Dar lunged forward as the cane clattered down the stairs, the tottering old man a moment behind it.
“I got you.” Dar grabbed the old man before he hit the steps and lowered him to the cellar floor.
“By all that the Drasil’s are holy. It’s you,” Paps said, staring at Dar.
He’d seen that look before as the old spirit’s eyes wandered over his body, looking at all the dao characters etched into his flesh.
“Paps?” Mika asked, ignoring Dar’s earlier move and sitting up, clearly concerned.
