The Malaise Falchion

by Paul Barrett

  Our weapons fired, all of them pointed at a slight upward angle to compensate. One bolt missed. The other three struck the bottom. One glanced away. One hit the broad, thick keel and shattered without causing damage. The third slammed into the hull. Cracking through the smooth boards, it continued upward until half the shaft had penetrated. Great if we were on water. Pretty much useless in the air.

  Above us, the ballistae were being cranked to aim down at us. It wouldn’t be long before they were in position to strike.

  “What’s that?” Crizlyk asked. I looked where his quivering hand pointed. Liquid ran down the bolt that had pierced the other ship’s hull. Yellow, it flowed in a thick stream and dripped off the end.

  I had no idea what it was until the wind blowing in my face brought the smell to me. It was like a wild animal; musky with a bitter tang. I smiled and aimed my Firestarter. “You might want to duck,” I told Criz and Liz.

  I concentrated. We were at least a hundred feet away. A tough shot, but not impossible. I dimly heard the ballistae release above us. People screamed as the bolts slammed into the balloon and punctured it. I felt the shudder as the shafts came through and cracked the wood on the decking.

  It was all secondary to the wand I pointed. Never before had I needed to make a shot count so much. Sounds receded, and the thud of my heartbeat replaced them. The wind brushed against my skin. I narrowed my eyes and stared at the wooden bolt sticking out of the ship. It hung there like the world’s biggest candlewick. I shifted aim in compensation for the breeze. I offered no prayers to the useless gods.

  I fired.

  The sparkling red bolt flew as true as I could have ever dreamed. It struck the fat tip of the repurposed tree trunk. The keratine, a volatile mixture of whale oil and putrosium, caught flame. The fire sped toward the ship like a dog called to its food bowl. It disappeared into the hold.

  Nothing happened for several seconds. “Dammit,” I said. “The bolt destroyed all the bar—”

  KAPHWOOM! The ship blew apart like a firework. Bright orange flame engulfed it so quickly those on board didn’t have time to scream. A wave of heat washed over us. The nose-stinging smell of the burning keratine followed it. Sweat broke out on my forehead. Flaming debris rushed toward the Zip. It struck the deck, the balloon, and a few people not quick enough to get out of the way. I ducked and waited, ready to laugh at the bitter irony of blowing us up in the act of saving us.

  “You sure know how to show a girl a good time,” Liz shouted as she slumped down beside me.

  “I really, really wanna go home,” Crizlyk said on his hands and knees. “Really,” he reiterated before tucking his head under his hands.

  The debris storm passed, leaving only the sharp smell and a few brands of wood burning on the deck. Elves ran with sand and water to put them out.

  I stood and brushed myself off. A shadow loomed over me. I turned to find Quinitas standing there. He had a few burn spots on his elegant clothing. His hair had become disheveled, though it still gleamed like a star. Fine red lines marred his golden eyes. He looked down on me. For the briefest moment, I thought he was going to hit me. Then he gave a small smile.

  “You’re still a dirt eating sack,” he said, “but you do have style.”

  An elf with a cut forehead and a slash in his leg limped up. “Captain, we’re going to have to land to patch the balloon. That last volley did too much damage.”

  I could see the damage. Two of the thick bolts had planted themselves into the deck. They stuck out of the balloon like toothpicks through a piece of fruit. I honestly didn’t know how we were still in the air.

  Quinitas nodded. “Take us down. Land us as gently as possible.”

  He looked across the sky. I followed his gaze. The hobgoblin Zip floated high above us, moving further away. And we had no way to catch up.

  12

  I’d never before seen an elf angry. It was an impressive sight. While his crew swarmed over the Ziploon to repair it, Quinitas stormed. Paced. Yelled imprecations at the sky. He almost punched one of his orc bodyguards, then thought better of it. We sat nearby on the broken rocks that made up our landscape and watched his tantrum. His hair got frizzier and his eyes wilder, two things I hadn’t thought possible. Even then, he was still better looking than eighty percent of the world’s population. Stupid elves.

  “Feel better?” I asked when he stopped his latest round of shouting.

  He whirled on me. “A great deal of this is your fault, so don’t push it. You saving my ship and crew is the only thing that’s kept me from punting you into the nearest crevice.”

  “I wouldn’t say it’s the only thing,” Liz offered from her nearby rock.

  “Calm down, Liz. He’s right. If I had listened to him in the first place, none of us would be in this situation.”

  Crizlyk sat on the ground and played with the hobgoblin’s sandal like a toddler. He stared at me like I had sprouted wings. “Who are you and what have you done with my boss?”

  I frowned. “I can admit when I’m wrong.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since I almost got my ass blown out of the air by an insane sorcerer. Quinitas is right. I fell for a nice pair of tits and a promise of redemption. I was sloppy. It’s time to correct that. We need to figure out where that damn hobgoblin is going with the falchion and get it back.”

  “That’s easy,” Liz said. “They’re probably taking it back to Siralanna.”

  “I don’t think so,” Quinitas ran a hand over his hair, and some of the wildness disappeared. “The thugs trying to take you down were my sister’s men. They turned on the hobgoblin and his allies pretty quickly. No, the hobs were here for someone else.”

  “How do you know what happened in town?” I asked. “You weren’t even there.”

  “I’m a Clanmage,” he said. I nodded. He had some magical means of seeing the town from a distance or at least divining what had occurred.

  “So some other faction.” Liz flicked her tongue thoughtfully. “And someone who knew about your involvement soon enough to follow us from Mage City.”

  Quinitas looked at me. “They followed you from Mage City?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah. Rode in on the same dragon we did.”

  “You could have mentioned that.”

  “I just did.”

  “Actually, I did,” Liz said.

  I frowned at her. “What difference does it make? All it tells us is that Siralanna has someone spying on her. That’s the only way they could have known about me. Or you have someone in your group who isn’t exactly loyal.”

  “I can assure you that isn’t the case.”

  I couldn’t help it. My eyes cut over to the orc bodyguards.

  Quinitas followed my gaze, then glared back at me with a portion of his earlier anger. “They are completely loyal. They performed a blood bond.”

  I flinched. Liz drew in a hiss of breath. Crizlyk remained in mental oblivion, pounding the shoe on the ground. A blood bond is nasty business. It involves blood, obviously, but also rituals that fall just short of diabolic. Even though I knew the elf wasn’t squeaky clean, this colored him a shade blacker. His professed desire to destroy the falchion had become suspect. I kept the thought to myself.

  He was right about one thing. The blood bond made the orcs completely loyal.

  “Okay, so that means someone in your sister’s house has a different agenda. What do you know about Calithan?”

  “Her seneschal? Not much, other than he’s a hobg—” He looked at me. Something close to admiration showed on his face. “You may be on to something. Perhaps you aren’t as ignorant as I suspect.”

  “Your winning personality continues to shine through,” I said. “He didn’t seem particularly thrilled to be her employ—Criz, will you quit pounding that damn shoe? What are you, three?”

  The sauro stopped and stared up at me, his slit eyes wide. “Sorry, boss. I’m doing it so I don’t start crying.”

  “There’s nothing
to cry about,” I said. “You survived. We’re leaving here soon. Cheer up.”

  “Yeah, but the odds are wherever we’re going will be worse.”

  I held out my hand. Crizlyk hesitated, then lifted the sandal up to me. I took it. A flash of red on the bottom caught my eye. I looked at it. A goblet icon drawn in red paint, faded and scuffed. “Okay, this has to mean something.” I showed the shoe to Quinitas. “Do you recognize this?”

  The elf took a look, then shrugged. “Maker’s mark?”

  “A goblet? Maybe if the shoes were made by an innkeeper.” At the word goblet, I saw the ears of the taller orc bodyguard twitch, and he suddenly looked less bored. I walked up to him and held the sandal bottom side up. “This mean anything to you?”

  His eyes darted over to his boss. Quinitas must have nodded his permission. “It doesn’t mean shit to me,” the orc grumbled in his guttural voice, “but I recognize it.”

  “What is it?”

  “Goblet.”

  I resisted the urge to smack him in the chin with the footwear. “I’m the only one allowed to be a smart ass. We know it’s a goblet.”

  “Not a goblet. Goblet. It’s a—” he looked at his shorter companion. “What’s that thing when a word means something longer? The letters are a word?”

  Though I had no idea what he meant, his cohort did. “Acronym?”

  My eyebrows shot up, and I glanced back at Liz. An intelligent orc. Who knew?

  “Yeah, that’s it.” The tall one turned back to me. “It’s a acromonym”

  Well, one out of two was still pretty good for orcs. “What does it stand for?”

  “G.O.B.L.E.T.” the orc pronounced every letter. “Goblinoid Organization for the Betterment of Life and Educational Training.”

  “Boy,” Liz said. “They stretched to get that one.”

  “What are they?” I asked.

  “Not sure,” the orc answered. “Heard others talking about it at the tavern. Something to do with making things better for goblinkind. Revolution and stupid shit like that.”

  I looked at Quinitas. “Did you know anything about this?”

  He shrugged. “When is there not some goblin group looking to make things better? Rabble rousers are as common as cockroaches and about as useful. Who wastes time even listening to them?”

  Another helping of that elf arrogance I loved so well. “I think there’s more to this group than your average troublemaker. How many of these types do you know that have a Ziploon?”

  “I don’t know any of those types.” He paused a moment, face thoughtful. “It’s a good point, though. Where did that sandal even come from?”

  “I pulled it off the hobgoblin when I tried to yank him off the ladder. I wish his leg would have come with it.”

  Quinitas’ gold eyes suddenly grew bright. A smile lit up his damnably handsome face. “If you weren’t ugly and male, I could kiss you,” he told me.

  “That’s something we have in common,” Liz said to the elf.

  “Shut up,” I told Liz. “What’s got you so excited?”

  He snatched the sandal from my hand, pressed it against his forehead, and mumbled an incantation, repeating the words several times. The air turned tight, pressing against my chest. The hairs on my arms rose. My beard tingled, a strange sensation if there ever was one. The scent of lilacs drifted over my nose. Difficult to smell since my nose had become stuffy. My throat felt like I had swallowed a jar of mucus. I had no idea what Quinitas was doing. I stepped back, ready to run if something unnatural materialized.

  “What’s he doing?” Crizlyk asked in a fearful, phlegm-filled voice. His nose and throat had also clogged up.

  I shook my head.

  “Casting a location spell,” Liz answered. She sounded normal, suffering no ill effects from the powerful spell. Her magical nature, I guessed.

  After about two minutes, Quinitas opened his eyes. They were glowing. It quickly faded. “I know where he is.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  Instead of answering me, he looked at my assistant. “You’re going to be very happy, Crizlyk. We’re returning to Mage City.”

  Another hour passed before the elves completed enough repairs to the Ziploon to get us airborne. Their efficiency earned my grudging admiration. Dwarves couldn’t have done much better, especially not with wood. We re-boarded and headed north.

  Quinitas and I had retaken a seat on the deck. Criz and Liz sat with us. Getting us airborne hadn’t included fixing the shattered portions of the deck. Planking still lay scattered everywhere. Large holes provided dangerous traps for the unwary.

  Nonetheless, the younger crew members had cleared a place for us and carted out a table that magically unfolded to three times its size. Plates of food and glasses of wine littered the table. Criz stuffed his face with food while the rest of us talked.

  This whole “let’s picnic in the breeze while flying” attitude still felt strange. I could get used to it, especially with the weather we had now. Once we left the putrosium-polluted clouds behind, the sky had turned mild and blue. Warm enough for my lizard-like companions to be happy, cold enough that I wasn’t sweating my body weight. Riding a Ziploon beat the hell out of riding on a dragon. If I was going to be terrified of falling out of the air, I might as well be comfortable doing it.

  “It still doesn’t make any sense,” I said. “Why would they fight so hard to get the sword and then head right back toward Siralanna? They have to be working for her.”

  “I don’t know,” Quinitas admitted. “We’ll have to find him and ask him. Politely at first. Not so polite if he’s reluctant.”

  “I’d rather start with the not so polite,” I said. “He’s been a pain in my ass and damn near got me killed. A hearty round of throat and nut punches is in order.”

  “How are we going to find him once we get to the city?” Liz asked. “Is your magic that refined?”

  “It is,” Quinitas said, pride all over his voice. “It will take us right to his location. Good luck you got his shoe. Any other article wouldn’t have been as specific. However, since the feet are the prime mode of transportation, it works beautifully for the homeopathic harmonics of the—”

  “We’ll take that as a yes,” I said.

  Quinitas frowned. “Sorry to bore you.”

  “You weren’t boring me; you were just about to say things I couldn’t understand. So where is the hob?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But you just said―”

  “The spell will take us where he is. It doesn’t tell me where he is.”

  It was my turn to frown. “I don’t like jumping into a situation blind. I—”

  “Funny, I thought that was the only way you went into situations.”

  Liz and Criz suppressed a chuckle. I glared at them and chose to ignore the elf. “I suggest we land this thing outside the city and go from there. We’ll reconnoiter the area where he is first.”

  “And here I was going to go in with wands blazing and no forethought whatsoever. Of course we’ll do reconnaissance. However, I’m going to land at my manor.”

  I shook my head. “There are at least two groups with a vested interest in us not making it back home; your sister, and the idiots with the stupid acronym. They may think the surprise attack took care of us, but I wouldn’t count on it. They could have spies watching sky and land. This Zip is nothing but a giant floating clue that we’re alive and on the hunt. We need to land several miles away, take a small group under cover of night, and figure out the best way to approach their location. Or we could do it your way and plan to be ambushed before we even get close.”

  Quinitas sat in thought for several moments. Finally, he raised his glass and toasted me. “Sounds logical, which I certainly didn’t expect. We’ll do it your way.”

  “Thanks,” I picked up my glass. “We need to work on your complimenting skills.” I drained the last of the melon flavored wine. Unexpected fatigue hit me like a runaway wagon. “Any chan
ce we could get a place to rest? I’m feeling a little beat up.”

  “Considering what you went through, I’m surprised you’ve held out this long,”

  “No more than you went through, casting all those spells.”

  “Careful,” Liz said. “Complimenting each other might lead to civil behavior and friendship. You wouldn’t want that.”

  Quinitas gave her a dazzling grin before he turned back to me. “I’ll see if I can get someone from the playground to attend you.” He clapped his hands. The long-haired blond elfling appeared from some hidden place. “Take Spade—can I call you Spade?”

  He wasn’t a friend, but he had saved my life. I nodded as I stifled a yawn.

  “Take Spade and his friends below and give them the guest quarters.”

  Liz pointed at me. “And show him where he can clean off. He still smells way too much like the town.”

  The young elf nodded and said, “Follow me,” in a soft voice.

  I stood. Doing so after sitting set off any number of aches despite the dulling effects of the wine. Incredible how many muscles you can wrench when you almost fall two hundred feet. I refused to groan, but I walked slower than I wanted across the deck, following the boy. Crizlyk trundled behind me dragging his backpack.

  Down the ladder to below decks and down the hall. Like almost any ship, this one was cramped. Unlike the majority, it was well maintained and clean.

  “This is your cabin, ma’am.” The boy pointed to a closed teak door. The Valley Flower had been built entirely of exotic woods. One cabin door on this vessel equaled the cost of three on any other. The thought of so much wasted money made my eyes water.

  “A cabin all my own,” Liz said. A grin split her mouth. “That redeems almost a quarter of what you’ve put me through.”