Shattered

by Stef M Ensing

  “But think of it: take that money and apply it to the trip, you’d come back and be rich enough to buy any house in Uptown. Anything you’d ever want.”

  “Only if it pays off.”

  “It will.”

  Payton bit her lip. “Who else did you have in mind?”

  “Honestly? Besides you and Atherly—”

  “I never said I’d go!” Atherly objected.

  “I was going to leave the fighters up to you, Payton. You know about that type of stuff. I have a line on a ship willing to take us so long as we leave before mid-fall because when the weather turns bad on the seas. It gives us four months at the latest.” Nyla leaned forward in her seat. “Please. At least consider it?”

  “I… will consider it.”

  Nyla squealed. “Thank you!”

  “That wasn’t a yes you crazy woman.”

  “Don’t care.” Nyla was bouncing up and down now excitedly.

  “You’ve both lost your minds,” Atherly muttered.

  Payton sighed and shook her head only to stop and grimace. “Bad idea. No moving head.”

  “Alright, that’s it. I’m checking you out,” Atherly announced. When he gained a look from them he rolled his eyes. “Not like that. Just, sit still and behave.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’ve been shifting uncomfortably and grimacing since I got here. You’ve obviously damaged something. Just let me see if I can fix it,” Atherly ordered, slipping off his chair and kneeling in front of her. He had his hands on her before she could object again. “Payton, this is not “fine”! Why didn’t you come to see me sooner?” he demanded.

  “Because it wasn’t that bad and I knew you’d pester me into a healing session and this way I’d get it for free,” she said simply.

  He glared at her. “Payton, your definition of “wasn’t that bad” needs to change.”

  What was he doing? Jarrett asked himself that repeatedly as he walked up to the tavern. For a moment, he stared up at the sign. He had passed it dozens of times on his patrols, had even gone in once or twice to take away rowdy patrons who bothered the owner enough for her to send for guards but he had never gone in socially. He’d much rather go home and… hide. But he was unable to forget the invitation from that woman who still bothered him. Thus here he was, about to go into a place he would otherwise avoid simply to find another piece to the puzzle that was Payton.

  It was neither the woman nor the prospect of being surrounded by drunks that intimidated him and had caused him to stall, however. It was simply the unknown of all that could await him within. More questions about a past he was unwilling to share. More attempts to understand his person when all he wanted was to comprehend hers.

  Jarrett cursed himself. He was no coward.

  Marching forward, he pulled the door open and stepped inside. It was surprisingly loud for the late hour. A number of groups were crowded around various tables but none held the face he sought. He was uncertain what to do, whether to stay or leave, whether to go farther into the building in the hopes of spotting this game she had invited him or if this entire venture was ridiculous and he should exit while he still had his dignity intact.

  “Tall, dark, and awkward. Yup, you about fit her description,” a voice came from his side and a man stood there holding a tray. “You Payton’s mystery man?”

  Mystery man? It was only then he realized that he had never given her his name. He had thought she was being humorous by calling him that but now he understood it was neglect on his part.

  He nodded at the man.

  “Alrighty then. She warned you were a man of few words. This way.” He gestured for Jarrett to follow him.

  Dubiously, he did. The man took him to the bar but instead of indicating he should have a seat and wait he immediately circled it and headed to the doorway to the back room. When Jarrett did not follow he stopped and impatiently waited for him to move forward. The man showed him to a set of stairs and did a dismissive wave before disappearing back into the tavern.

  He pondered the intelligence of going down the stairs in a tavern he did not know to meet a woman he did not trust. Exhaling he pushed the instincts that were telling him that this could be a trap aside and trudged down the stairs. He could hear voices from the room at the bottom.

  “…hardly think you need to be that dramatic about it. It wasn’t as if I was walking around with a broken leg,” a feminine voice said.

  Someone laughed. “Just accept it, Payton. It’s the one time he’s ever serious.” That was a voice he recognized.

  She had not been lying. Takara was truly there.

  “I suppose you’re right. Should I give him a cookie to congratulate him?”

  “How about you stop talking so I can concentrate instead?” a third voice, male this time, was added.

  It was only one step more to enter the room but once he did that was where he stopped. The sight of a table filled with peanuts and cards was the primary focus in the center of what was clearly a storage room for the tavern. Four people were in the room. The redhead with long dreadlocked hair was over by the kegs and filling tankards, the other three were around the table. Takara, Payton, and…

  In an instant, he went rigid.

  Payton whacked at Atherly’s hand as it moved along her side. “Stop trying to cop a feel,” she ordered, squirming under the tingling coolness of the healing magic. “I have knives. I’ll use them.”

  “I’m not!” he objected. “I promise. I was making sure I caught all the fractures. I swear, Brisen hits like she’s got iron in her fists.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that,” Payton mumbled.

  “I wish you would let me bring her in for assault. Get some scare into her,” Takara complained. “From what Darcy told me, she wasn’t going to do anything against those merchants until you stepped in.”

  “You’ll just cause problems. Besides, things are fine.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever believe that word out of your mouth again. You said you were fine when you walked in looking like someone used you as their personal punching bag. Then Atherly announces you’ve got three fractures to your ribs and a hairline split on your cheekbone. Your “fine” doesn’t count.”

  Nyla cackled at Takara’s assessment as she turned around. “She has a point—oh. Hi.”

  Three heads turned, confused at first and then surprised. A brilliant smile lit Payton’s face when she saw the black-haired stranger standing there. “Mystery man! You came. Was beginning to think you wouldn’t.”

  “Crap.” Was the only word that came out of Takara’s mouth.

  It seemed to have jarred the man in the doorway out of whatever brooding moment he had been locked in because he reared back. His deep brown eyes ripped away from the mage and landed on Takara then Payton. They made a dance around the room again before landing on Atherly once more. A sneer curled his lip and he abruptly pivoted and stormed up the stairs.

  “Wha—hey wait!” Payton batted Atherly’s hands away from her and she tried to get up but Atherly stopped her.

  “Just let him go. You’ll never get him back here,” he stated.

  “What do you mean? What was that?”

  “Complicated,” Takara said, taking a stein from Nyla.

  “Dragon shit. It’s not complicated. He’s a fucking racist is what he is,” Atherly snapped.

  Payton’s mind worked overtime until the pieces fit together. “Malvathar?”

  “Got it in one,” Atherly said. “Bastard won’t go near anyone that has anything to do with Malvathar. And Creators help you if you are one. His glares could curdle milk.”

  She bit her lip. She had been entertained and intrigued by the stoic guard who had helped against the slavers and talked to her. Well “talked” was a broad term. But he wasn’t exactly the warm and welcoming type. Her other friends had practically forcibly inserted themselves in her life. They were boisterous and outgoing. Almost the opposite of what this man seemed. And if he ha
ted Malvatharians… maybe she should let things lie. Just let him go and try to continue the night.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “You’re not serious,” Atherly moaned. “He’ll ruin everything.”

  Takara was looking at her peculiarly. “Be careful, Payton. He has reasons to act the way he does.”

  “Don’t we all?” she replied before hurrying up the stairs.

  For all she knew he was already halfway across the city. It was foolish to go after him but something about the fact that he had come at all made her want to make the effort. He was obviously not a very social person so if he tried why shouldn’t she? She scanned the tavern for him and came up empty. Hurrying out the door into the night air she was surprised to nearly bump into him.

  “I was worried you had left.”

  He did not answer. Merely glanced at her in a sideways glare and then bowed his head once more, half hiding behind that pitch black hair of his.

  “I did not know that having Atherly there would cause an issue.”

  Again nothing.

  “I’m glad you came. Even if I’m still not getting anything out of you besides brooding looks,” she tried.

  That made him look at her again. “Why?”

  “I think it has to do with how you furrow your brow. It just makes you look deep and ruminative,” she purposefully misunderstood his question.

  He blinked. “N-no. I… I meant why are you glad I came. You don’t even know me.”

  Payton shrugged. “I didn’t know any of the three in there until I did.” She wrinkled her nose. “What I meant is, how else do you make new friends?”

  “And that is what… this is? An attempt at friendship?” he said warily.

  “I’d say so. I mean the beginning of it.” She gave him a smile. “We didn’t get off to the most normal of starts, mystery man, but that doesn’t mean anything. I still don’t even know your name.”

  He stared at her. Studied her, searching for the sincerity of her words. There was no deception there. No hidden agenda that was layered behind cunning in her eyes. Just an open honesty that he was not used to seeing very often.

  “Jarrett.”

  “Hi, Jarrett. My name is Payton Clark,” she introduced. After a moment she asked: “Will you come back inside?”

  Instantly the tension that had been slowly easing was back along with his dark look.

  “You don’t have to. It’s not like I’m going to force you or anything. I just… thought it might be fun.”

  “I don’t associate with Malvatharians,” he growled, his already deep voice dipping into a sinfully gravelly sound.

  She swallowed, trying not to shift uncomfortably at the statement. “You don’t have to associate or even talk with him. You can throw peanuts at him for all we care. We’d just hate for Atherly of all people to ruin your night.” She saw the corners of his lips twitch as though he wanted to smile but was fighting the urge. “Please?”

  Slowly he nodded.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Payton did not bring up the job possibility to her family right away. She wasn’t entirely sure why. She knew she would eventually. She had promised Nyla. Perhaps she was still turning the concept over in her mind, trying to formulate her own opinion before presenting it to others. The problem was she was on the fence about it. Part of her agreed with Nyla about the adventure and risk being worth it. They would be one of only a handful of people to dare risk the icy continent since the cataclysm. Most had been scared off by the monsters and frigid temperature. But the realist in her would then point out that perhaps it would be wise for them to do the same. Avoid a place that had death looming over it like a cloud. In the end, it was merely the fact she wanted to know their opinions to see if they could sway her one way or the other that caused her to bring it up three nights after the fact.

  “…and that’s about all I know. Or all she has so far,” she finished. There was an awkward silence at the end with all the men around the table just staring at her. “It seems more thought out than her normal plans. Better than the flaming rat trap in any case. She already has a ship lined up willing to sail there, which I was surprised about because you know that most won’t go anywhere near southern waters because of storms and icebergs and such.”

  “Krakens, scredra, leviathan,” Samuel muttered a list of the monsters said to be lurking in the deep.

  Payton grimaced but continued nonetheless. “Nyla seems to be sorting the details out properly this time. Passage, shelters, provisions, and… well… she wants m—us to be the lead on protection.”

  Isiah raised his brow. “She said that?”

  No. She said me but I’m not going to get into an argument over pride with you. “She knows we can handle ourselves and trusts whomever we would deem strong enough to survive.”

  The men were silent for some time, thinking about what had been shared.

  “How much?” her father finally asked. She looked at him quizzically. “How much does she want us to front for this little death adventure of hers?”

  This was where Payton grimaced. “Fifty gold pieces.”

  Samuel gasped, starting to cough like he was choking on something. “Are you kidding me?”

  “That crazy midget is aiming to rob us blind,” Isiah said sourly.

  “She broke it down for me after the game,” Payton explained quickly. “Most of the money is going toward supplies like food and shelter. The cost to get proper attire to protect from the frigid air on the ice is what will set us back the most. Another chunk was to get the ship to sail there in the first place. The last of it…” She grimaced. “Well, that’s for us to hire whomever else will be the muscle on the trip. She obviously needs more people. We’ve been hearing stories about the beasts down there for a hundred and fifty years. Who knows how much of it is true and how much is just born out of fear? But she swears that we’ll get the investment back. She wants us to be partners.”

  Isiah arched his brow at her. “You want us to spend our hard earned coin on a fool trip to the artic on the off chance that there is riches down there.”

  Payton frowned at him. “It isn’t as ridiculous as you’re making it sound and you know it. The cataclysm at the end of the Great War caused everything to freeze in a wave, instant death as it pulsed out. People were running for their lives, abandoning anything they couldn’t carry.”

  “We’ve all heard the tale,” he said dismissively.

  “And we’ve all heard about people who have dared to sail back to Calaphine to plunder it. Those who have returned have come back rich. There is wealth just sitting there, frozen in ice,” Payton shot back.

  Isiah did not have a response and merely sulked, looking away.

  “It sounds like you want to do this,” Samuel commented.

  Payton blinked and considered for a moment. Perhaps she had already made a decision without realizing it. “I think it’s worth the gamble. I’ve seen the maps and they look legitimate. There are paths and sketches to the Vaults, a road straight to the main one. It’s something any other explorer who might have tried to loot Kydessa may not have had before. It will lead us right to the treasure.”

  Her family still looked unconvinced.

  “We’ve seen the size of the Vaults for Imeryn,” she tried another tactic. “Kydessa was a port city like it but said to be two or three times the size. One of the biggest cities in the world once. Just imagine it.”

  That was when she knew she had hooked them. Samuel’s eyes had widened when he began to comprehend exactly how much wealth they could be walking into if they took up this challenge. Isiah was slowly nodding – whether it was to indicate his agreement or his understanding, she did not know. Her father was the only one who remained stoic-faced and unreadable.

  “Anyone know how much we have saved?” Samuel asked curiously.

  “Somewhere around thirty-five gold coins,” their father said numbly. “I had been waiting to share the news that we could purchase a house un
til I was certain there would be coin left over for basic necessities.”

  They were silent for some time. None of them had realized they had saved such an amount but with that hidden away in the floorboards of Simmons’ house, they conceivably could raise enough for the trip. Raise enough to get set for life. If they dared to trek across icy dangerous waters and wade through the tundra while facing Creators only knew what. But it was possible.

  Isiah sighed. “Fine. I agree. But if this blows up in our face, I swear I’ll kick your ass.”

  It was later that night when things became complicated. Isiah and Samuel had gone out on assignment and Payton was in their shared room jotting down some basic ideas on how they could raise the money faster when her father appeared in the doorway.

  “We need to talk.”

  Ominous words. She did not know what to make of the look on his face as he took a seat on one of the many crates squished inside the tiny room.

  “Who do you plan on bringing on this trip?”

  Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t play games with me, Payton. You are the one this Nyla woman approached specifically to be the muscle on this trip. You are the one she will listen to. You have influence with her.”

  “And?”

  “And you will take your brothers’ names off.”

  Payton felt like she had been punched in the stomach. “What?”

  “Your brothers are not going on this trip. Do you understand me? You will do anything you can to make certain that they will remain behind.” Her father’s voice sounded frantic.

  “Dad… you can’t ask me to do this to them.”

  “Damn it, Payton. For once in your life, you will mind me!” he exclaimed. “I will not sit back and lose another member of my family to your recklessness.”

  Tears filled her eyes. Your fault. Letting out a shaking breath, she tried to sort her thoughts out, tried to push away the pain that her father was not concerned about losing her the way he was her brothers.

  “The money is the family’s, not just mine. I can’t run off with it and abandon Sammy and Isiah. I need them.”