by C S Vass
“You’re making me dizzy,” Grushenka said. “Sit.”
“I’m fine.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
Grunting with displeasure, Godwin obeyed her. While strutting back and forth across the room, he briefly had the thought that she could be playing him for a fool. He dismissed it immediately. Yegvellen was the one who was behaving oddly. Besides, he had spent the precious night dining in the halls of the Three Sisters. He had been to many places terrorized by vampires, some rich and some poor. None of them had happy guests so at peace.
“Tell me, Godwin,” Grushenka said from her chair opposite his. “When your journey comes to an end, will you go and seek out this woman Robert mentioned? Selena? If she’s a prostitute, I could bring her here. My girls attend to the wealthiest guests, eat the finest foods, and make excellent pay. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you visiting from time to time.”
Godwin glared at her without answering.
“Typical,” Grushenka scoffed. “Very well, I won’t press the matter. If this is how you act, then I wouldn’t want to subject the poor girl to—”
“You don’t understand. I can’t see her. She…does not approve of my lifestyle.”
“Ah,” Grushenka said. “Why not give it up then?”
“One doesn’t just leave the Shigata. Especially not right now.”
“Not with the stars shifting in such a worrisome way, you mean?”
“What can you tell me ab—”
“You keep your secrets, Godwin, and I’ll keep mine. Put it out of your head for now.”
Godwin barely had the energy to argue. Even so, he had a duty to explore such matters and opened his mouth to press her further when a loud knock interrupted him.
“Come in!” Grushenka called.
Godwin’s face fell when the door swung open and in walked not Robert, but the broad-shouldered ogre in heavy armor he met outside of Saebyl’s castle.
“Easy,” the ogre said, raising his empty palms. Godwin didn’t take his hand off of the hilt of his sword. “I’m not here to fight.”
“Why are you here?” Godwin asked.
“I think you know that. Come with me. Yegvellen wants to see you.”
“Where’s Robert?” Godwin asked. The Shigata started to lift his sword from its sheath.
The ogre was unimpressed. “Where do you think? He comes to my master with that crock of shit story, and you just expect him to walk out of there?”
“Bloody idiot,” Godwin growled. “I knew this would happen.”
“Come on,” the ogre said. “It’s not so bad. Yegvellen hasn’t hurt him. They’re drinking tea in the tower waiting for you. Just you,” he added as Grushenka started to walk towards him. “You’re to stay here, vampire.”
“Oh?” Grushenka’s eyes glittered with malevolence.
“If you kill me, Robert dies,” the ogre said. “Godwin, come with me. My master is willing to trade Robert for you. He assured me he’s not after his life or yours.”
Godwin scoffed. “What’s he after then?”
“That’s up to you to find out. Come on, let’s go.”
“Godwin,” Grushenka called to him as he went to leave. “What you wear on your heart—whether you know it or not, that is the most powerful weapon you have. Don’t be afraid to use it.”
Godwin turned, suddenly angry. “If I want your bullshit fairy tale advice, Grushenka, I will ask for it.”
She scoffed and turned her back. “You’re all the same. Go then. It’s your funeral.”
“Wait,” Godwin said. How could he have been so foolish as to nearly forget? “Grushenka. There is something you can do. There is a girl. Lyra. I believe she will come to Saebyl if she’s not here already. She is lost. Help her. Please.”
Grushenka stared at him for several long moments. Finally she simply shook her head. “Why would I do you any favors, murderer? If she means so much to you, find her yourself.”
Yegvellen’s tower stood tall and intimidating in the snowy morning light. The ogre who accompanied Godwin held his stoic silence for their walk. That suited Godwin just fine. The Shigata felt rather like he was walking towards the executioner’s block. He didn’t mean to spend his final moments in conversation with the servant of his killer.
Before they approached the tower, the ogre spoke. “I have to tell you, Godwin, I meant what I said to you earlier. I know what you’ve done for this city. You’re a hero to me.”
Godwin spat in the snow. “I guess this is why they say you’re not supposed to meet your heroes. Your kind words won’t stop me from removing your head if the need arises.”
The ogre held his silence. Instead of responding, he approached the tower where the same gargoyle as before swirled into appearance. “You know the drill,” the contorted face shrieked. “Lose those weapons.”
“Send Robert down.”
“That isn’t going to happen. Not until you’ve disarmed and walked up the tower.”
Godwin looked to the ogre, but his escort’s face was as blank as the stones that made up the north wall. Not seeing any real choice, Godwin relented.
“There’s a good boy,” the gargoyle said before disappearing once more into the surface of the wall. An opening rippled into place.
“Come on, Godwin,” the ogre said. “My master awaits.”
After another ascent up the stairs, Godwin found Yegvellen and Robert sitting together drinking out of two steaming mugs by the window. It was painfully obvious that Robert was in a great deal of distress. “There he is,” Yegvellen snarled. The mage’s wrinkled face was twisted with anger.
“Godwin, I’m sorry,” Robert said. “There was nothing—”
“Leave it,” Godwin said. “It’s fine.”
“It certainly is not,” Yegvellen said. “For shame, Godwin. I thought the Shigata had more honor.”
“All contracts are null and void the moment you lie,” Godwin said. “But we can discuss the particulars when we’re alone. Robert, leave.”
Uncertainly, Robert stood up. The easterner eyed Yegvellen, waiting for the mage to give some command.
“What are you staring at me for, Tarsurian?” Yegvellen snapped. “I’ve no use for you. Be on your way.”
“He’s right, Robert. Go. Back to the Three Sisters.”
“Yes, go back to your vampire whore,” Yegvellen snapped. “Enjoy her while you can. She’ll be dead before long.”
“Godwin—”
“Go.”
Robert gave Godwin one last look of concern, then turned on his heel and left.
“That one has all the brains the gods gave a pigeon,” Yegvellen said.
“Never mind him,” Godwin replied. “You lied to me, Yegvellen. I don’t appreciate that.”
“Moralizing now are we? After letting a vampire run loose in a city filled with walking blood sacks? I don’t think you’re in any position to judge.”
“I decide if I want to take on a contract. I don’t just kill for the sake of killing.”
“No,” Yegvellen agreed. “You don’t. You’re a Shigata. You kill for money. You certainly were happy enough to take it when it was offered. I don’t suppose I’ll be getting that back. But never you mind. I didn’t bring you back here to air my grievances.”
“No. You called me back to kill me.”
Yegvellen laughed. It was a groaning croak of a laugh that made Godwin’s head ache. “Is that what you think, Godwin?” Yegvellen said as he rose. “No, it’s what you want though. How interesting. Unfortunately for you, I have no use for you as a corpse. You’re not going to die today, my friend.”
“Friend now is it?” Godwin asked. “What do you want from me, Yegvellen? We’ve both made mistakes. I think it would be to our mutual advantage if we simply bowed our heads and walked out of each other’s lives.”
“We will, Godwin. But not yet. There’s one last service you can provide me with. I’ll even pay you for it. The rest of the gold I’ve promised you for the contract you
bungled.”
“Yegvellen…”
“Take your shirt off,” the mage snapped.
“What?” The question caught Godwin completely off-guard.
“Your shirt. Take it off and come upstairs with me. I want to examine your thrygta.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Yes, your Shigata secrets are quite precious to you. I don’t suppose you would change your mind if I assured you it was for the good of the realm?”
“It wouldn’t.”
Without another word Yegvellen banged his staff against the ground. Godwin felt his knees grow as heavy as boulders while his head went light. Stars sparkled in his vision, and he toppled over. Hot waves of nausea resonated throughout his body.
“It didn’t have to be like this,” Yegvellen said. “But I will take what I’m owed.”
“You bastard,” Godwin said through gritted teeth. “You don’t understand what you’re doing. If the Shigata find out—”
“The Shigata are either dead or scattered, and it does the world no good if your secrets die with you. Now come on. Bori, carry the Shigata up the stairs.”
“Aye,” Bori grunted. Godwin tried to resist as the armor-clad ogre scooped him up in his thick arms like a child, but he felt like his muscles were made out of mud. He barely had the strength to keep his eyes open.
“Yegvellen, I’m warning you,” Godwin said in a voice barely above a whisper as they walked up another spiraling staircase.
“Yes, I’ve gotten that,” Yegvellen said. “But I’m a man of new magic, and I need to know what’s going on with that magical dragon-in-chains. You know, you really do have the ill luck of a Forsaken, Godwin. Had you been any other Shigata, I would have been happy to just take your thrygta and cut you loose. But you must be the only one of your order with the silver tattooed right into your skin. Of all the luck.”
“Not luck,” Godwin wheezed. “Destiny.”
Yegvellen led them through a tear-shaped door the color of blood that stretched into an expansive laboratory on the top floor of his tower. A maze of pipes and tubes criss-crossed the room leading from alembics that simmered hot with unknown substances to bubbling and boiling flasks spouting a rainbow of colored steams. The array of chemistry equipment hissed and groaned in a cacophony of noise that sounded anything but stable.
Godwin could have spent a lifetime in that room.
“I’m glad to see you like it,” Yegvellen said, noticing the expression on the Shigata’s face. “It’s not often I meet someone who appreciates the raw power of new magic. But I expect that will change soon.”
“What do you mean?” Godwin asked.
“Place him there on the table, Bori,” Yegvellen said, ignoring the question.
Bori moved towards the plain wooden table. Judging by its miscolorings, the board was clearly no stranger to blood. Godwin met the ogre’s eyes as he was placed gently on the table’s surface. He saw uncertainty…and perhaps fear.
“This won’t do at all,” Yegvellen said, moving the ogre aside. “I’ll need proper light.” Banging his staff on the ground a hot white orb erupted from nothingness and floated above Godwin’s body leaving him partially blind. “Much better. Bori, remove his shirt.”
The ogre obeyed.
“Fascinating,” Yegvellen said as he traced his fingers over the dragon-in-chains tattoo that covered Godwin’s heart.
“You use old and new magic,” Godwin said, trying in vain to force his muscles to respond. “That’s rare, Yegvellen. Most folks stick to one or the other.”
“I am not most folks,” Yegvellen responded, puffing his chest. “And neither are you, my friend. It’s a shame. In another world we could have been allies.”
“I take it you know who I am,” Godwin said. “What I’ve done in this city. My reputation for synthesizing potions.”
“I do.”
“Then at least tell me what this is all about,” Godwin said. “Why are you interested in my thrygta? Come, Yegvellen, if you didn’t want to speak with me you surely would have paralyzed my voice as well.”
Yegvellen’s eyes shone hauntingly from the shadow of his face underneath the burning white light. “Why don’t you tell me, Godwin? What do you think I’m interested in your thrygta for?”
“I suppose you want to know if it’s any different than ordinary silver,” Godwin replied. “Otherwise you wouldn’t need to go through the trouble of pissing off the Shigata.”
“Very good, for a start anyway,” Yegvellen said. The mage moved towards a table bubbling with an array of potions. As his hands moved over them he asked, “What can you tell me about that?”
“Nothing.”
“Because you don’t know, or because your order forbids it?”
Godwin held his silence.
“I see. Very well, Godwin. As much as I may regret harming you, I don’t exactly need your cooperation for this. Though I might have made an effort to make this less painful for you had you given it.”
“You know I can’t say anything about my thrygta, Yegvellen. But come. We both know I’ll be dead before leaving this tower. Tell me what this is about. Who are you working for? The King? The Tarsurians? Yourself? Don’t leave a man to die with the unsatisfying taste of curiosity in his mouth.”
Yegvellen continued to shuffle amongst his potions. Godwin found the strength to move his head towards Bori. The ogre was visibly discomforted. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. If I’m going to live, then it’ll be because of him, Godwin thought.
“Most men would have a harder time accepting their death,” Yegvellen said. “But you well know that there’s no way for your friends to enter this tower without my permission, and you don’t hide the truth from yourself. Very well, I’ll reward your courage. I am on the Council of Mages at the University of Magic and Mathematics in Brentos. I’ve been commissioned to do some research regarding the magic of silver.”
“Commissioned by who?”
“King Boldfrost. Understand Shigata, by fighting me you were not just waging a pointless battle. You were also committing treason.”
“I see. What is it you hope to learn?”
“King Boldfrost is eager to obtain a new type of weapon,” Yegvellen said as he moved the contents of a vial into a much larger boiling flask. The substance flashed green, then steadied into a dull grey. “He seeks to combine the powers of old magic and new magic. He thinks the power of silver can be taken even further.”
“And where in the world would he have gotten an idea like that?”
“From my colleagues. And from the Temple of Ice and Shadow. The twin pillars of new and old magic.”
“I never knew monks to work with mages and scholars,” Godwin said. His eyes met Bori’s, which were now completely glazed with fear and uncertainty. Godwin did not fail to notice the ogre’s tightened hand around the sword hilt at his waist.
“Strange times make strange bedfellows to be sure,” Yegvellen said as he continued tinkering. “But the old magic has something profound to offer. Something us scholars have long overlooked. But no more.”
Bori’s eyes suddenly clarified. He met Godwin’s gaze, nodded, and lifted his blade an inch from its sheath.
Godwin shook his head. Bori, eyebrows pushed together in confusion, returned his blade.
“What is this combination of new and old magic that you want to experiment with?” Godwin asked.
Yegvellen swung around abruptly, his eyes flashing. “That, Godwin, is the true beauty of it. I trust that as a man of science yourself, you’re familiar with the recent discovery of actinides?”
Godwin felt a lump in his throat and his mouth go dry. “Those substances are…forbidden,” he managed.
Yegvellen grinned. “To the idiotic masses. But I’m on the Council of Mages. You think such restrictions apply to me? Not likely. Not while I can provide such fantastic possibilities to our sovereign.”
Godwin suddenly felt very light-headed and ill. “Yegvellen, these elements. S
urely you understand that they are radioactive. That no-one understands the consequences of their use.”
“That’s precisely why you’re here, my friend. Uranium, plutonium, nobelium. This is the future of magic. Not silver. But they’re unstable. Chaos embodied. So we must seek to bring order to that chaos.”
“Madness,” Godwin breathed, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing. The Shigata was no expert in the new class of elements that had recently been discovered in the faraway Dredjko Mountains of the Tarsurian Empire, but the horrific tales of their mismanagement with widespread consequences had not eluded him.
“Every innovator is mad until they change the world.”
Yegvellen reached for a vial and turned around. “Now is the time, Godwin. You won’t live to see it, but you are going to help foster that change.”
Fear like Godwin had never known flooded his body. He knew that the moment he was in was so much bigger than he understood, and that he had to live to help prevent whatever was happening.
Godwin’s whole body convulsed, but Yegvellen’s spell still bound him to the point where he couldn’t properly move. “Do it, Bori!” he shouted wildly. “Do it now! Kill him!”
Roaring, the ogre’s sword flew from its sheath and connected with Yegvellen’s neck. For a moment Godwin thought he saw the mage’s head fly from his shoulders, but to his horror he realized that the sword simply sailed through Yegvellen as if he were made out of mist.
“Honestly,” the mage said with a roll of his eyes. He shoved his staff outwards and a blast wind threw Bori like a rag doll into the wall. The ogre’s head slammed against hard stone, and his eyes sunk into the back of his head as he fell unconscious.
“Did you really think that would work?” Yegvellen asked. “I picked that ogre because I knew he admired you, fool. I wanted to be sure there would be someone you would be most likely to trust when you first met him outside of Rockhelm’s castle. I’m hardly shocked by his betrayal.”
