The Way of Pain

by Gregory Mattix

  Ferret was awaiting them in their gathering room, as were Nera and Arron. Also present was an elderly gnome who must have been Flurbinger. He wore grubby, grease-stained overalls and a set of wire-rimmed spectacles perched on the end of his long nose. He acted very uneasy, fidgeting and sweating, continually glancing nervously toward the window.

  “Easy, old friend.” Nera rested a hand on the gnome’s shoulder, and he instantly relaxed. “Flurbinger has some information crucial to your quest.”

  “To stop Shaol’s disciple from opening the portal to Voshoth, you must claim the control rod from the overseer of the Order of Artificers first.” The words tumbled rapidly from Flurbinger’s mouth as though this were an onerous task he was anxious to be done with. “If you fail to secure the control rod and your foes activate the Tellurian Engine, it will be impossible to disable. Return with the rod to the Hall of the Artificers and cast it down the inferno chute, where it will be incinerated in the magma beneath the earth. That is the only sure way to destroy it and ensure Voshoth cannot be accessed.”

  “If Nesnys and her minions secure the rod and use it to start the machine, then all is lost?” Taren asked.

  Flurbinger rubbed at his balding pate and shrugged. “If the Tellurian Engine is activated, ’twill be nigh on impossible to stop, for it consumes all vitality and earth magic alike as a lamp burns oil, only this lamp is thirsty enough to drink an entire plane dry. You will be destroyed upon entering Voshoth. As the Engine runs its course, all of Easilon will be consumed and the planes reordered.”

  “What does ‘the planes reordered’ mean?” Taren exchanged a worried glance with Mira.

  “Nexus will no longer be the crux of the multiverse and will be isolated,” the gnome replied. “Like iron filings to a lodestone, the planes will be reordered, drawn to Voshoth and linked there.”

  “And Shaol’s minions will control access throughout the planes,” Nera said. “So this Voshoth would become a new Nexus?”

  “Such is the theory, the machine yet untested, of course,” Flurbinger said.

  “So get this rod before that bitch Nesnys, or we’re all buggered,” Ferret said.

  Flurbinger nodded. “Just so.”

  “No pressure, then.” Taren looked around at his friends and family, taking note of their grim expressions. “What can you tell us of Kaejax Outpost, where this Lenantos has retreated to?”

  “Kaejax Outpost is a bastion of the artificers,” the gnome said, “a colony founded there upon a plane with its landmass destroyed at the dawn of time. I have no specific knowledge other than that.”

  Taren put a hand on Ferret’s armored shoulder. “And what do you know of this Shirak Research Station? We’ll be going there for Ferret shortly after finding the control rod.”

  The gnome removed his spectacles and wiped them with a greasy rag pulled from a pocket, which looked as though it only made them dirtier. “Shirak Research Station is located on the Elemental Plane of Water. The artificers conducted advanced metallurgy and alchemical research there for a time, but the facility was decommissioned after a couple centuries and has lain idle since. Too many problems with the pressure regulators, I imagine. Foolish place to conduct research, beneath the sea.”

  “Beneath the sea?” Ferret blurted out.

  “There an echo in here? Aye, beneath the sea. No wonder it was closed—waste of good materiel and labor, I say.” Flurbinger snorted and put his spectacles back on. He peered at Ferret, and his annoyed expression softened. “If you’re still dead set on reverting to your frail, soft flesh, then you need to use the Reverse Transfiguration Tank.” He removed a crumpled scrap of parchment from a pocket and started to hand it to her then thought better of it and gave it to Taren. “Those are the settings you need to adjust the control panel’s instruments to. You’ll figure it out from there.”

  Taren studied a rough sketch of the contraption, along with scrawled figures and notes on the parchment, which made little sense without context, then folded it carefully and placed it in his pocket. “Thank you.”

  His mind was racing at all the information provided. Destroyed landmass? And the Shirak facility is on the Elemental Plane of Water? Should be an interesting quest, to say the least.

  “Anything else they need to know?” Nera prompted the gnome.

  “I’m sure there is plenty they need to know, yet I’ve no additional knowledge to impart,” the gnome replied brusquely. “May I return now?” He was starting to act jittery again.

  Nera leaned over and planted a kiss on the gnome’s bald head, causing his cheeks to redden. “You may return, and thank you, Flurbinger. You’ve been most helpful, luv.” She snapped her fingers, and the gnome disappeared with a pop.

  “I’ve something to give you.” Arron stepped forward and held out a worn leather pouch with a belt loop. “In case you get stranded or need to travel interplanar in a hurry. It’s an artifact called the Bracer of Fellraven.”

  “Gifted by my father to one of his trusted cohorts during the Planar War,” Nera added.

  From the pouch, Taren removed a bizarre glove fashioned of interlocking rune-inscribed rings attached with tiny chains. He nearly dropped it in surprise, for the device contained a tremendous amount of magic—as Arron said, an artifact of power. He could tell right away it was crafted by the same brilliant minds responsible for the factotum and his own Ring of the Artificers.

  “That large band slides on your wrist like so,” Arron said, helping Taren don the awkward device. “Once you get your fingers in the sheaths, it will adjust itself.”

  The device dangled awkwardly as he slipped the individual rings onto his fingers, followed by the clawlike sheaths for each finger. Once each finger was in place, the glove suddenly grew warm and glowed a bright orange as if the metal turned molten. Taren gasped in shock, expecting it to burn him, but it didn’t. Instead, the glove smoothly shrank until it was a perfect fit for his hand, and the molten glow faded. Ferret made a sound of awe that mirrored his own.

  “This is incredible,” he said.

  “Aye, until the damn thing opens a portal to an ice world that’ll freeze your stones solid in seconds, right Sis?”

  Nera smiled in response to Arron’s question.

  “I’d recommend not using it unless absolutely necessary,” Arron said, “for it tends to be a bit, uh… erratic. And by that, I mean dangerous. Anyway, you must ensure you’ve a distraction-free mind and visualize your destination quite clearly.” He suddenly looked nervous and glanced at Nera. “About those command words…”

  “Speak the words ‘Azi’ahur i’ars si’ahu’ followed by a destination,” Nera said in his mind. “You’ll remember them—fear not.”

  And indeed Taren did remember, for the alien words burrowed into his brain like a parasite. He wondered if that was Nera’s doing or the nature of the device’s magic.

  The bracer slipped off easily when he pulled it free and stowed it back in the pouch, which he then affixed to his belt. When that was complete, everyone looked at each other expectantly.

  “Well, let’s eat so you all can be on your way,” Nera said, turning to the empty table.

  Just then, the door swung open, and several servants entered, bearing dishes and silverware for each place setting, along with platters of fresh food, the warm courses still steaming. With practiced efficiency, the table was set and stocked within moments.

  “Dig in, and don’t be shy.” Nera gestured for them to sit and eat. “A journey best begins with a full belly.”

  Taren helped himself, filling his plate with a scoop of scrambled eggs, a thick slab of ham, and some hash browns. He added a bowl of honeyed porridge and bread slathered with berry jam. A cup of cider completed the meal. He suspected it might be some time before he ate so well again. The others joined in with hearty appetites, although Mira ate much more sparingly, while Ferret seemed to gaze longingly at the food.

  “Oh, just thought of something else.” Nera reached into a pocket and withdrew
a heavy silver ring studded with small gems. She studied it a moment, sadly, it seemed, before handing it to Taren. “This was your father’s. I don’t suppose I mentioned how we met, did I?”

  “No, you didn’t,” he replied, as interested in her pending tale as he was the ring.

  Nera smiled, looking lost in thought. “I spotted him at the Zombie, green as a newly budded leaf. He was flashing that ring and a heavy coin purse around, which proved too tempting a target. He wasn’t hard on the eyes, either, I suppose. But I overheard him asking about his master, who’d been abducted, so I felt obliged to aid him.”

  “Taking advantage of the poor lad and robbing him, she means,” Arron interjected with a crooked grin. “She knocked him out cold, lightened him of his belongings, and then abandoned him in a dark alley.”

  Taren regarded them both with raised eyebrows, and he noted the others listening with interest.

  Nera shot Arron an annoyed glance, but her face softened almost immediately, then she smiled wistfully. “Aye, I suppose I did. Like I said, I was a narcissistic little shite in my youth. But Malek learned his lesson about trusting overly altruistic wenches, I reckon. Anyhow, he tracked me by using his second sight, and then we got jumped by thugs, which was a nice bonding moment. Eventually, we put that little misunderstanding behind us and got on well enough after. And the rest is history.”

  “What about the ring?” Taren asked after a moment, pleased to have learned more of his parents. Nera had mentioned their adventures together, but this was the first time she’d spoken of how they met.

  “It makes the wearer undetectable by magical scrying and tracking. Certain types of creatures, such as undead, won’t be able to sense your presence either. Hopefully, it will aid and protect you from my foul sister’s chicanery. Watch what happens.”

  Nera took the ring from his hand and slipped it onto her finger. While nothing about her seemed to have changed physically, in his second sight, she suddenly disappeared, her chair appearing empty.

  “Ah,” he said, nodding.

  “What happened?” Ferret asked. She was staring at Nera, and Taren sensed her puzzlement. “Did she magically teleport away again?”

  Nera’s eyebrows rose, and she exchanged looks with Taren. “You can’t see me?”

  “Nay… Did you turn invisible?”

  Nera removed the ring and handed it to Taren.

  “Oh, there you—oi!”

  Taren grinned at the others, having just slipped the ring on himself. “So you can’t see me at all, Ferret?”

  “Nay. Not funny, by the way.”

  He pulled the ring off again, unable to restrain his grin. “Interesting to know your vision is magical, in a sense. Thank you for this, Mother.” Taren studied the ring, marveling at the fact it was an heirloom passed on from his father, the only thing he had from him. It also somehow appeared completely nonmagical in his second sight. He slipped it into his pocket for the time being.

  Soon after, they finished their repast. Taren felt reluctant to leave the mother he’d just gotten to know so soon, but his friends needed him back in Easilon. He pushed his chair back and rose. The others joined him.

  Nera opened the door, and a servant handed her a sack filled with provisions, which Taren added to his pack. She also gave him a heavy coin purse that glinted with gold when he peered inside, a small fortune worth more than he’d seen in his entire lifetime.

  “Looks as if it’s about time we part ways,” Nera said hesitantly. For the first time since Taren had known her, she seemed at a loss for words.

  Taren gave her a warm embrace, which she returned. “I’m glad I got to meet you, Mother.”

  “As am I. And ‘Ma’ is fine, I reckon,” she replied, her horn pressing against the side of his jaw. “Once this business is done with, come back and visit. And bring that pretty little queen with you so I can meet her.”

  Taren smiled. “I can’t make any promises as to the latter, but I’ll certainly come back to visit.”

  “I’m proud of you, Taren. Take care of yourself.” She surprised him by giving him a quick kiss on the cheek then stepped back. She turned to Mira and embraced her warmly as well, then she clasped Ferret’s hand.

  “Taren, give that wench a good smiting from the both of us. And from Wyat too.” Arron clasped his hand then pulled him into an embrace and slapped him on the back heartily.

  “You can count on that,” he answered fervently.

  Once the goodbyes were completed, Taren and his two friends gathered their gear.

  Nera smiled at them, though she seemed sad at their departure. “One thing I’ve learned in all my adventures—it’s good to have trusted friends by your side. Go with Sabyl’s luck and look after each other. Farewell.”

  Then, with a wave of Nera’s hand, they were instantly teleported to the Ashen Plains, standing before the broad portal to Easilon.

  Taren turned and looked back over Nexus, hoping he would be able to live up to his word and return someday. The sun had barely crested the edge of the disc, and the two moons were still visible opposite in the sky. At the heart of Nexus, the ceaseless foundry leaked smoke into the air, and beyond that stood the massive fortress where they’d spent the past month.

  “I think I may miss this place,” Ferret said, echoing what Taren was thinking. “I reckon I’ve only scratched the surface of the interesting things to be discovered here.”

  “You’re probably right about that,” he agreed.

  He studied the enormous oval void of the portal, the plane of nothingness limned in crackling blue flames. The inky surface rippled to the left of them, and a pair of travelers entered Nexus, stumbling from the transition’s disorientation then gawking at the sight of the city

  Must be their first visit, he thought, remembering his own first time stepping through the portal.

  Mira put a hand on his shoulder, a steadfast and reassuring presence at his side as always. “Now we shall find out where your destiny leads us next, Taren.”

  “Aye, let’s go save Ketania,” Ferret added.

  Taren smiled, glad to have their companionship. He thought briefly of Elyas, Sianna, Creel, and all the other friends and acquaintances he’d met during his adventure, who needed his help now. What had once puzzled him before had become clear: Elyas’s driving motivation to reach Ammon Nor during their travels. He knew his cousin had felt a strong sense of purpose compelling him—a duty to defend his kingdom and protect those without the means to do so for themselves.

  And for the first time in his life, Taren truly felt as though he himself now had a purpose, one that mirrored Elyas’s. And with his newly honed talents, he was finally in a position to do his part to help turn the tide and restore the Balance. I just hope it is not too late to set things right.

  “Let’s go home, ladies.”

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for taking the time to read my book! If you have a spare moment, please take the time to leave a review and spread the word to your friends. It doesn’t need to be a long review—one or two sentences would be perfect. Reviews and word of mouth are really important for independent authors to find an audience. I invite you to visit my website for news about future stories and to leave a comment there if you like.

  The adventure concludes in Scions of Nexus Book 3: Trial of the Thaumaturge (Coming Spring 2019).

  Journey deeper into the planes with Nexus Tales—now available!

  Want to find out about my next project? Sign up for my spam-free newsletter and receive new release email alerts so you will be the first to know when my next book comes out.

  Also by Gregory Mattix

  Nexus of the Planes

  The Twilight City

  Doors of the Dark

  Dawnbringer

  Nexus Tales

  Scions of Nexus

  Scions of Nexus

  The Way of Pain

  Extensis Vitae

  Extensis Vitae

  Extensis Vitae: The Shattere
d Land

  Extensis Vitae: City of Sarx

  Extensis Vitae: Empire of Dust

  Extensis Vitae: The Complete Series

  Obsolescence

  Seren1ty

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank everyone who made this book possible. First, I’d like to thank my awesome beta readers: my brother, Tim, for all the time spent reading drafts, finding typos, and providing helpful feedback; also to my good friend Chris for reading drafts, giving feedback, and helping me brainstorm ideas. Last but not least, I’d like to thank my wife, Mona, along with Mom and Dad for all the help and support they’ve given me along the way.

  Thanks again to all my readers for taking a chance on an independent author!

  About the Author

  Gregory Mattix grew up in the blazing heat of the Arizona desert. He obtained a degree in Business Administration at the University of Arizona, served in the military, and lived overseas for a time. He currently lives in Colorado with his wife. He is the author of the Extensis Vitae, Nexus of the Planes, and Scions of Nexus series.

  Table of Contents

  Contents

  The Way of Pain

  Front Matter

  Map

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7