First Quest: The Mentalists series Book One

by E. Molloy

  Daveth and his rat companion sulked several steps behind the princess and her new escort, the rat's grip loosening some on his scalp with every step. They trudged through swamp for about ten minutes before reaching the open woods again, and Daveth was relieved to know they hadn't been taken too far in.

  Daveth and the swamp rat travelled close enough to defend her, if it came down to it, but not close enough to hear anything they talked about. Every so often, the princess or Ragen would laugh loudly. The two dejected followers walked mostly in silence, until the rat made the strangest sound in the knight's ear.

  "Glop," the 'p' made almost a popping noise as the other consonants seemed to stick to each other in the word, if it could be called that.

  "What are you doing back there?" Daveth asked, wondering immediately if he even wanted to know.

  "Glop, it calls us."

  "Glop? Is that your name?"

  He could feel the thing nod against the back of his head.

  "I didn't think you'd have a name," he mused, and the creature hugged his head but added nothing else.

  The princess's laughter ahead reminded him of something, and he stopped walking. He could feel Glop's fingers tighten on his face, and instinctively patted them reassuringly. Letting the pack slide off of his shoulder, he set down his weapons and began digging through the bag's contents a bit. Most everything seemed to be there, still. It made sense, since the swamp rats only seemed interested in things that were pretty. After a few moments of digging, though, his heart began to race.

  "What's it do?" Glop asked quietly from over his shoulder, and Daveth realized the thing had crawled up partway on his head and was peering into the pack.

  "There was a paper in here. I need it," he said. Once he got the princess to the palace, that paper would be the only thing that proved that he was a knight who saved her, not just some guy who happened upon her. While it might have seemed a petty thing to worry about, he still wasn't entirely convinced that she was going to admit he had helped her once they got there.

  "No," Glop replied, tapping on his forehead. "No, we looked. No papers or shinies."

  Daveth continued digging frantically as Ragen and Lillian got farther away from them. He pulled out its contents, tossing each item aside after checking to see if the paper had somehow found its way inside of folds of cloth or anything. "That's not possible, this is where I put it, and I know I did."

  Glop dropped to the ground and grabbed his hand with sticky fingers, sniffing at the pack. "Stolen?"

  "No, the only person who could have taken it is..." His eyes shot to the two who travelled in front of them. One of them had to have taken it, it was the only way. It could be either of them, really, but he would bet money that the hunter who had joined them was the culprit. Maybe he would try to return her to the castle without Daveth, and take the credit for himself.

  He began stuffing the items back into the pack slowly, thoughtfully, considering what the next step would be. Despite every urge to outright accuse the man, he had no evidence. He would have to keep an eye on him. He would have to get it back. Just before Daveth stood, Glop climbed up his back and around his neck again, sticking his suction cup fingers to his forehead. Daveth picked up his weapons and stood, his knuckles going white around the grips as he kept pace with the two who had now gotten far ahead of them.

  Ragen and the princess carried on in front of the other two. The large man kept his arm around her, ever the charmer. "So, -you- saved -him-?" he said with a laugh.

  She shook her head. "Yeah, it's been a rough few days."

  "Sounds like it. Well, you don't need to worry now. I'll make sure you make it through the woods safely."

  Lillian paused, then asked, "So, what are you doing out here anyway?"

  "I live out here. Suppose you can call me a guide of sorts, but I'm really just a hunter."

  "Hunter? What do you hunt?"

  He grinned, looking down at her. "Whatever I'm feeling hungry for." His nostrils flared out a moment, and suddenly he looked a little confused. Their pace slowed as he stared hard at her a few moments, then shook his head. Turning his eyes back to the path and the raven whose lazy glide they followed, he continued, "Just consider me a guide for now, though. These woods are dangerous, and you never know what sort of trouble you'll run into."

  His expression had become oddly serious, considering how fun their conversation had just been. Lillian found herself suddenly a little worried, though she supposed being in this man's company couldn't possibly be worse than traversing these woods alone with her failure of a hero.

  "That rat he has," the man finally said after moments of silence, "Aren't you worried it will eat you?"

  She shrugged. "If it wants to eat him, it's more than welcome to. I'm not worried about just one of them."

  "I don't think I've ever seen one domesticated," he joked, looking over his shoulder at the odd pair that followed.

  "Well, you probably wouldn't if you live in the woods," she teased, gently slapping a hand against his shoulder. This roused a chuckle in him.

  "I guess not. There are a lot of things I don't see out here, and a lot of things I do see that I simply don't believe."

  "Oh? Like what?"

  "Well, for starters, that swamp rat hugging the boy's head like its life depends on it," he grinned, still amused at the thought. "Princesses. I don't see princesses here, and am still trying to wrap my head around that one."

  "You don't believe I'm a princess?" she asked, though she didn't really seem surprised.

  "Well, you'll have to forgive me highness, but from what I know of princesses, you're a little too nice."

  She looked really confused now. "Nice?" she said with a laugh, "Well I don't get accused of that often. I guess it takes someone worth respect in order for me to show respect. You saved my life, are helping me get to my destination, and proving to be a very pleasant companion."

  "And the knight?" he said, without missing a beat.

  The princess sighed. "He tries," was all she seemed to come up with.

  "And that's not good enough," Ragen replied, though to her it sounded more like a question than a statement.

  Her face drew down in a thoughtful scowl. "I guess it should be," she commented to herself. Admittedly, she felt guilty, now that someone she respected had pointed out her cruelty. Yes, she had been mean to him and quick to want to leave him behind. Really, though, the boy was just trying to do what someone else was succeeding at. His efforts should mean something to her, but the fact that they didn't wasn't something she knew how to change. She couldn't just ignore it, now, and the woman walked on in silence.

  Thankfully, Ragen knew by her expression that she was done talking for now. In fact, the man threw a knowing grin her way as soon as she closed off inside herself, as if he had hoped for that very reaction.

  Chapter 12

  Stone walls shrouded in darkness seemed to come alive with the flickering light of a torch on the wall. The tall, slender man who had lit it tucked two flint stones into the left pocket of a long brown jacket. His attire was much what one would expect of the rich, but far more subtle. Though it appeared modest at a glance, upon closer inspection one would note the fine silver threads that laced his attire, the perfect hems and edges, and the tightness of the weave in its fabric. His short hair, covering just the top of his ears, was a bright blonde that was almost white, and his skin a soft tan. The man’s brown cloth boots took him over the rock in a dingy tunnel beneath the city. There was once a life for the poor down here, but records revealed that the residents had moved on. Diamondruf would not be known for their Undercity, but for the bustling crowds above.

  Alone, his steps echoed through the empty corridors. There were rooms to either side of him, doorways with no doors that led to rooms just big enough to fit three people inside of, albeit uncomfortably. The floors were covered in dried hay and rags with cobwebs filling nearly all of the open space. His light blue eyes glanced into each as he passed s
lowly, making his way down the long stretch of hallway he'd just entered.

  Niko was an investigator of sorts, from another kingdom. While the kingdoms had been at peace for more than a decade, it was not because everyone was fated to live happily ever after. There was a lot of work on the ends of all of the kingdoms to keep everything in line as they had. In concept, Niko's job was simple. He received word from individuals planted in every city, for the sake of ensuring there were no plots against the others. If there was suspicion of such event, word would come back to his order, and a representative of the kingdom least effected by the potential plot was sent to investigate and, if need be, stop the actions before they took place.

  The kingdom he came from, Kaine, was a small one, the main city housing its entire population. There were countless miles of unused land around the city. It was at least a month's travel from the border of Kaine to the city of Arcaeum, unless one had means of magic. Three centuries ago, long before peace had been achieved in the kingdoms, rebel mages who disapproved of the slavery and slaughtering of their people found refuge in this country. For the world over, the uprising sent floods of casters running to the peninsula. Those who survived the journey worked to rebuild a ruined elven temple city, and began the study of ancient magics that had been left behind. The mystery around the city was as thick now as it was 300 years ago, but one solid truth remained: the power within Kaine, even before the mages, was unmatched.

  Despite their growing numbers and increasing power, none had challenged Kaine for nearly a hundred and fifty years. The Arcaeum was at the tip of the peninsula, surrounded on three sides by water, and the other by expansive planes that lead to a dense jungle. Both the threat of their magic and the perilous journey had given them a powerful defensive position, and they had been granted their freedom and left to live there in peace. In exchange, they mostly left the other kingdoms alone, prodded little into their business, and cared nothing for their politics. To the Kainites, the humans without magic were another race entirely, and over the generations this had become very much true. While the slavery and slaughter of mages continued the world over, those who were banished or managed to escape and could make the journey were welcomed with open arms at the Arcaeum.

  Despite the Kainite's disinterest in the rest of the world's affairs, there were those who took interest. These, like the other humans so motivated, joined the Collective: the order responsible for enforcing that peace, and the ones who gave Niko his orders.

  The Kainites weren't called on often, as there were so very few of them and most people were more than a little unnerved by their presence. After a year of life in Kaine, a mage would undergo a great change through ritual, altering their appearance to fit their countrymen and thus casting off the features of their families and adopting the features of their birthright. Their signature hair and eyes made it nearly impossible to not be noticed, though most commoners weren't so involved in politics to really even know much about them. Perhaps they were stories told to children at night to make them behave, or perhaps they were simply strange-looking foreigners who happened through a city. Whatever the case, whatever people thought when they saw him, it would be obvious he didn't belong. Rumors would spread, and he didn't need the kind of panic that those could lead to. Not this time. Not yet.

  He had entered the Undercity at night after reaching Diamondruf. It was no mystery that the Undercity here had been abandoned, but he hadn't truly expected to find not a single soul. While Diamondruf was known amongst the kingdoms to have little to no poor in its city, it didn't look as though people had moved on, as the records claimed. Some of the small rooms that had once housed families still contained objects: tattered blankets, shoes, images scribbled on paper by children. Many were things that would be left behind, but to find the rooms full, he almost expected the halls of the underground to flood with people coming home at any moment. It looked as if they had been swept out, though to where he didn't know. While this wasn't what he had been sent to investigate, it certainly proved to be a little more than suspicious. It would be reported and, maybe, one day, someone would look into it.

  A skittering nearby caught his attention and Niko turned his head to look inside one of the small rooms. At first, he expected rats, but saw instead a young girl in tattered clothes, her dirty reddish hair a mess on top of her head. She cowered in a corner, her knees pressed to her chest and head buried behind them. Niko knelt in the doorway, looking at the trembling child who couldn't have been more than 5 or 6. "Are you lost?" he asked, his voice as gentle as he could manage. Children were not his specialty.

  The girl looked up at him slowly, and shook her head without a word.

  He stared a few moments, trying to think of how to deal with this delicately, and why she would be here in the first place. His experience with children was very limited, and he wasn't exactly practiced in gentle approaches.

  "Do you live down here?"

  She kept her scared green eyes on his, remaining unresponsive for a moment as her lower lip shook and eyes swelled with tears. "Don' make us leave," she begged.

  "Make you leave? No, I'm not here to make you leave," he explained. She must know something about why this place was empty, though. He offered a hand out to her, but she retracted, bumping up against the wall that wouldn't allow her to get any farther from him than she already was. "I was hoping you could tell me how to get to the city," he pointed up. "I am not from here, so I'm a little lost." While this wasn't entirely true, it wasn't entirely untrue either. Really, he hadn't been keeping track of where he had been going once he'd gotten down here, since he could easily find his way back with one of the many little magical devices he carried. However, it was far more likely that she would show him to other people if he made such a request, adults perhaps, and hopefully he could get some answers down here.

  The girl looked at him, and it seemed as though his words had put her mind at ease a little. She still looked to be trying to figure out if she could trust him, so Niko stood backing out into the hallway and offered his hand again from a distance. "Let me take you to your parents. We'll see if they can show me out, hm?" he asked with a smile, and she smiled in return. Nodding her head and wiping the tears from her sniffling face, the girl climbed to her feet and stepped toward him carefully. When he didn't make a move for her, she came up and took his hand, gently holding two of his fingers as she led him down the hallway.

  "Is jus' dis way," she informed him in her horrible speech.

  Niko let her lead him down more hallways, past more empty rooms, to a set of wooden doors that lay partway open. She let go of his hand, leaning against them with all her might to open the one. The door creaked and budged slightly. Niko pressed against it with his arm, and it moved completely. The girl stumbled into the room excitedly.

  "Lookit I found!" she said, apparently now pleased with her new find. Niko entered the dimly-lit stone room to find a collection of people: 3 children of varying ages, four men, and two women, all with filthy dark orange hair, pale skin, and dark green eyes.

  Before Niko could introduce himself, the four men moved to the table in the middle of the room, lifting their weapons and aiming spears and torches and makeshift knives at Niko. They moved in cautiously, and he raised his hands in the air calmly in response.

  "Yaint gonna get us out, so jus' move back wur ya come from," one growled, his English betraying the poor education he'd clearly received.

  "Why would I want you to leave?" he asked, and the man jabbed at him threateningly. It wasn’t enough to actually hit him with the rusty 3-pronged pitchfork, but enough to make someone jumpy retract. Niko was not someone jumpy, and instead maintained his calm as the man answered.

  "Donnuh play stupid wif me, boy, ah knows the dark thins ya fancy folk be doin to rid yerself o' da filth. Yer not gonna kill mah Rosey, too!" he yelled, finally taking an actual stab at Niko. Another of the men shoved the weapon aside just in time, and it jammed into the wooden door behind him instead.

>   "Wat'r ya thick? He in' one o' da guards! Lookit 'im!"

  The men all looked at Niko, and he laughed a little. He couldn't help himself. "I see you gentlemen must have one interesting story to tell. But your friend's right. I'm no guard. Now, if you please, lower your weapons so that we might talk a bit, like civilized folks, hm?" He lowered his hands slowly, looking at the men expecting any sort of threat again. Instead, they lowered their weapons, staring at him incredulously.

  "Niko Vanhart," he said, offering a hand to any who wanted to shake it. The one who had saved him reached in first and without hesitance. He shook Niko's one hand with both of his, leaving pale dust marks behind on the tanned skin where he had gripped.

  The foreigner continued, "I'm an investigator. I've reason to believe there is something wrong with your city, and I believe you may have the information to help me fix it."

  "Dark magic," the one who had earlier held a pitchfork to him said gruffly and without hesitation. "S'wat killda queen, nothin' been right since."

  Niko walked himself into the room, and the others followed, like rats to the pied piper. He had an air of authority about him, that much wasn't in question, but it wasn't the kind of authority they feared. No, they were likely used to guards coming down, whisking them away never to be heard from again. It certainly explained a lot. The bit about dark magic was concerning, but it was just as likely a rumor of the uneducated. People tried to explain anything that they didn't understand by calling it magic.

  "What happened to the queen?" he asked calmly as he took a seat in one of the unstable wooden chairs at the table. The men placed their weapons down on the table and took their seats as well. The women had left the room with all of the children as soon as the men had raised their weapons, but Niko only just now noticed that they had gone. Clearly, being snatched up from their homes was a very real threat.