God of Magic 2

by Logan Jacobs

  There were many temporary stalls set up as well, from rickety wooden booths shaded by patched tarps to simple blankets spread out on the ground, squeezed in wherever there was space. Colorful banners fluttered in the dry wind and painted signs advertised the merchants' wares in multiple languages. There didn't seem to be any sort of organization to the layout of the various shops.

  A bakery was set up directly adjacent to a tack shop, and the aroma of fresh bread mingled with the scent of leather and mink oil. It wasn't a pleasant smell, truthfully, but at least it was strong enough to cover up the blend of sweat and livestock that pervaded the rest of the marketplace. I tried to breathe through my mouth and quickly realized my mistake in using that strategy when I inhaled a mouthful of dust, and I noticed that many of the more prepared merchants and travelers around had scarves or bandanas pulled up over the lower parts of their faces.

  There was no escaping the noise, however. I caught intermittent snatches of conversation as people bartered and argued, mostly in languages I didn't recognize, but I wondered how anyone managed to conduct business at all in this cacophony. Across the street, a merchant had set up at least twenty cages in which large scarlet birds screeched and flapped their wings incessantly, disturbed no doubt by the barking of the same merchant's dog. Somewhere in the distance, a band played, though I couldn't see them through the crowd, and the music of flutes, drums, and a tambourine filtered through the air, accompanied by the snap of the banners in the wind.

  Aerin took my hand, and I was grateful that she had, as I recognized that it would be all too easy for our group to become separated here. We were jostled on all sides as we made our way down the dusty streets. Unlike in Ovrista, the majority of whose citizens tended to be either human or elven, the population here in Gilamar was notably more diverse. For once, our guild didn't stand out in the least. A family of ladonae stood outside a crystal merchant's stall, their dragonlike horns decorated with bronze rings, and a troupe of dwarves stood along the street opposite, apparently performing a pantomime. More than once, I caught sight of people with catlike faces and ears, all of whom seemed to pick out Merlin immediately as they passed by and shot us suspicious looks through slitted pupils. I guessed they could tell somehow that he wasn't actually a cat.

  Aerin took the lead as we maneuvered deeper into the city, and I could hear her mutter to herself every once in a while before she would abruptly change directions and take our party down a side street. There was very little point in trying to communicate with one another in this chaos, and I knew I was in no position to be suggesting directions, so I focused on keeping track of Aerin and making sure Lena, Lavinia, and Maruk didn't fall behind.

  Thankfully, it wasn't long before the crowds began to thin, and up ahead I caught sight of a line of large sturdy covered wagons. Undoubtedly, this was one of the desert caravans Aerin had mentioned and our ticket to safe passage east.

  "Thank Theira!" Aerin sighed. "I was beginning to worry they'd all left already. We'll have to buy our way onto one of the wagons, but I bet I can get us a good deal if we offer to help as guards."

  "Wait, why do we have to buy our way aboard?" Maruk asked. "Don't you know these people?"

  Aerin arched an eyebrow as she turned back to the orc. "Why would I know any of them?"

  "Your family are all merchants, aren't they?" Maruk shrugged.

  "Well, yeah, but we're not part of some vast merchant syndicate that spans the continent," Aerin replied. "I don't know every other merchant group in Evreas. Do you know every single pirate out west?"

  "As a matter of fact, I do," Maruk answered as he straightened up proudly. "Networking is a very important part of piracy."

  Aerin blew out an exasperated sigh. "Whatever. Let's go ask around and see who's willing to take us on."

  There were about twenty wagons total in the caravan, four of which appeared to be entirely devoted to transporting the caravan's supply of water for the trip. A few mages were drawing water into the barrels on the wagons from a large storage tank outside of a depot while a short, ruddy-faced man looked on, his arms crossed over his chest.

  The remaining wagons seemed to be full of all manner of goods, everything from spices, sugar, bushels of grain, and livestock to bolts of fabric, weapons, tools, and a variety of magical devices and crafts.

  Dozens of people moved among the wagons as they finished up the last of their packing and checked their inventory lists. As in the rest of the city, there were ladonae, dwarves, and more of those catlike people alongside the elves and humans.

  Aerin approached one of the cat men, whose tawny fur and long golden hair gave him a distinctly lionlike appearance. He barely glanced over as he hauled a trunk into the back of one of the wagons, but his furry ear swiveled back in our direction when Aerin cleared her throat.

  "Pardon me," she said confidently, "but my guild is looking for someone to travel with to the Canterrose Mountains. We'd be more than happy to provide our services as guards across the desert in exchange for a spot on your wagon."

  The lion man turned to face us then and scratched his chin with a clawed hand as he looked us over. His gold eyes lingered on Merlin for a moment, then he spoke in a deep, rumbling voice.

  "The ladona and the orc can come. No room for all five of you, and I'm not going to have a puca in my wagon."

  Merlin hissed, and the lion man's lip curled.

  Aerin's shoulders fell, but she didn't attempt to argue. "Alright, thanks anyway." She waved us ahead, and when we were out of earshot of the lion man, she said in a low voice. "I'd prefer if we could all stay together, but we'll split up if we have to. Let's ask around a bit more."

  We were refused by a ladona woman with a wagon full of spices, an elven man who appeared to be transporting nothing but colorful costumes, and a human couple who had enough weapons on their wagon to arm a whole town, but as we were turning away, a dwarf whistled to us.

  "Heard you folks were in need of a ride," he said when we approached. His dark hair and beard were shot through with streaks of gray, and he had deep laugh lines around his strikingly blue eyes. His smile was friendly and a bit coffee-stained. "I can take you on if you'd like."

  "All of us?" Lavinia asked with a skeptical frown.

  I tried to get a look at the contents of the dwarf's wagon, but the opening was covered over by a flap of cloth, and there was nothing on the outside that gave me any clues as to what lay within.

  "Yes, of course," the dwarf replied with a broad smile. "You look like a fine bunch, and I've come upon a spot of bad luck myself. My partner up and quit on me, and I've run this trip enough times to know it isn't something you want to do alone. You folks act as guards and help drive the wagon every now and then, and I'll let you tag along until you get where you're needing to go."

  Aerin grinned and stuck out her hand. "You've got a deal," she said. We weren't in much of a position to reject any offers we got, but I knew the fact that the dwarf didn't intend to charge us coin for the ride was the main source of the elf's enthusiasm.

  "Wonderful," the dwarf said as he shook her hand. "You can call me Clay."

  We each introduced ourselves in turn, but then my curiosity got the better of me, and I had to ask, "So, Clay, what are you bringing to sell?"

  "Oh!" the dwarf said with a chuckle. "Of course, you'll want to know who your bunkmates are."

  Lavinia and I exchanged a look as Clay stepped up and moved aside the flap that covered the back of the wagon. As soon as he did, we were hit with a wave of hot air that smelled strongly of sulfur, and behind me, I heard Maruk make a choked sort of sound in his throat.

  Along either side of the wagon were stacked about a dozen cages, and in each cage sat a squat, grumpy-looking creature that resembled a horned toad. Spines grew above each of the creatures' little brows and down their backs to their short tails. As I watched, one opened its mouth and belched, and a fresh wave of that rotten-egg smell wafted forth from the wagon.

  "Oh!" Lena gasped
as she ran forward to get a better look. "They're wonderful!"

  "What the hell are they?" I murmured to Lavinia. I'd tried to keep my voice down, but Clay must have heard me anyway because he answered.

  "They're fire-breathing toads, of course," he said proudly. "Don't you worry, though, I've had them all fixed."

  "Fixed?" Maruk echoed. The orc's face seemed a shade paler than usual, and I guessed he was less than thrilled to meet his bunkmates, as Clay had called them.

  "All of them have had their spark teeth removed," the dwarf explained. "They can't actually breathe fire, so you needn't worry about them incinerating anything of yours."

  “That’s a relief,” I said in as positive a tone as I could manage. As glad as I was for that, I wondered if there was anything we could do about the toads’ smell.

  "Uh," Aerin started, "are they the ones-- that is, the um--"

  Before she could finish, Maruk cut her off. "Is that wretched smell coming from them?" he demanded abruptly.

  "Oh, yes," he said with a chuckle as he reached through the bars of one of the cages and gave the toad inside an affectionate pat on the head. "They produce flammable gases in their intestines naturally, you see. Gives 'em a distinct smell. Nothing you can do about that, but you'll get used to it."

  Merlin had crept forward to sniff at one of the toads, and as he did so, it belched forth another cloud of noxious gas right into the puca's face. Merlin jumped about a foot into the air before he returned to cower at my feet, the fur along his back raised and his nose wrinkled up.

  Just then, a sharp whistle sounded from one of the other wagons up at the front of the caravan.

  "That's our signal to be moving out," Clay said. "You all better climb aboard, I'll drive us out for this first leg." The dwarf moved up to the front of the wagon past Lena as she fawned over the toads and climbed into the driver's seat behind the pair of spotted horses.

  Aerin, Maruk, Lavinia and I looked nervously to one another.

  "We can see if there's space in any of the other wagons when we stop," Aerin offered hesitantly.

  “Maybe they'll let us ride in one of the water carts,” I said.

  "Mhmm." Lavinia's lip curled as she pulled herself up into the wagon. "This one's on you, Aerin."

  Maruk took a deep breath and followed the ladona woman, and Aerin twisted a strand of hair between her fingers as she looked to me.

  "He is letting us ride for free," she said with a strained smile.

  I scooped up Merlin before he could make a run for it and dumped him in the wagon before I held out my hand to help Aerin up.

  "Who knows, maybe Clay was right, and we'll get used to it?" I replied, and Aerin gave me a grateful look.

  Aerin and I sat together on the end of the wagon, facing out so we could take advantage of the fresh air as much as possible. There were a few more wagons in the train behind us, and we watched as the merchants secured the last of their wares and boarded their own carts. Then I heard the flick of the reins as Clay urged the horses forward, and then the wagon lurched into motion, and we were off.

  Chapter 3

  As Gilamar shrank in the distance, swallowed up by the tawny rock and low clinging scrub of the desert, I wondered what this same journey must have been like for the first people to attempt the crossing. After all, it was a daring undertaking now, and we were all well prepared for it. With the flat dry landscape stretching out in every direction like the open sea, devoid of any sort of landmark, it would be all too easy, even now, to get lost out here. There were no natural guides save for the sun and the stars, no places of refuge from the heat of the day and the chill of the night, no food or water except what you carried with you.

  Of course, that wasn't to mention the numerous other dangers that lurked along the way, everything from roving bandits to wild animals.

  I smiled to myself. Framed that way, it seemed insane to step foot into this desert, and yet these crossings were routine for the merchants we traveled with, and our own guild had only just decided the previous evening to make the journey ourselves. Despite the risks, I couldn't say I was worried. I knew we could handle whatever came our way out here.

  The afternoon had been sweltering, especially in the city, but the temperature dropped rapidly as the sun began its descent in the west, and before long I found myself pulling my cloak around my shoulders. Beside me, Aerin had her knees tucked up to her chin. I shifted my cloak so that it covered both of us and Aerin turned to face me with a grateful smile.

  "Thanks," the healer said quietly, and she shuffled a little closer to me. "I didn't want to have to go back there to get something warmer." She nodded toward the interior of the wagon where the cages jostled around, and the fire-breathing toads continued to exhale clouds of sulfuric gas.

  Maruk, Lavinia, and Merlin had crowded up toward the front of the covered wagon with Clay where the opening in the canvas let in some fresher air, and only Lena seemed unbothered by the toads' odor. She sat before the row of cages with a notebook spread across her knees, completely absorbed in her work as she scribbled notes and sketched the toads.

  "How long did you say the crossing would take?" I asked as I turned back to Aerin.

  "It depends on the captain, really," she responded. "Some are faster than others, but it usually doesn't take more than three days."

  Three days. That wasn't so bad, I decided. Of course, it wasn't as though we had much say in the matter.

  "You said before that your family was from out east," I said then. "Did you used to live in the mountains?"

  "No," Aerin replied. "The rest of my family don't even live as far from Ovrista as Gilamar is, and they've never really been interested in traveling. I'm sort of the odd one out in that regard. I knew people back home who had done this crossing before, though, that's how I knew about it."

  For a moment, we were both silent as we watched the rest of the wagons trail along behind us, and the only sounds were the creak of the wheels and the rattle of the cages. I thought of how we must look from above, like a trail of marching ants, and then Lavinia tapped me on the shoulder.

  "It's your turn up front," the ladona woman informed us. Her lip was curled up in an annoyed expression that I guessed had to do with more than just the smell of the toads. "If I have to listen to that old dwarf go on about the differences between a yam and a sweet potato for another half an hour, I'm going to shoot someone." She directed a pointed look at Maruk beside her, who stuck out his lip and frowned.

  "Just because you prefer to be unsociable and taciturn doesn't mean the rest of us have to follow suit," he protested. "I thought it was quite educational."

  "Whatever." The ladona woman rolled her eyes.

  I looked over at Aerin with a grin, and we stood so we could trade places with Lavinia and Maruk and joined Clay at the front of the wagon. I was somewhat surprised to see Merlin curled up fast asleep on the dwarf's lap, but I decided not to question it. As long as the puca wasn't getting into trouble, I was glad.

  "Hey, now, would you like a turn at the reins?" Clay asked as Aerin and I sat down.

  I turned to the elf, but she shook her head emphatically and held up her hands. "No, not me," she said.

  Clay turned his bright blue eyes on me.

  "Uh, sure," I said with a shrug, "but uh, I've never done this before."

  "That's no problem," Clay assured me. "The hardest part is staying awake." He moved over to make space for me on the bench and handed me the reins. "All you really have to do is sit here. The captain will sound a whistle when we're going to stop, and the horses understand what that means by now."

  "Should I be watching out for threats or anything?" I asked as I peered out across the desert on either side of us. The sun had set completely, though it wasn't totally dark yet, and the desert was awash in the silver light of the full moon.

  "No, we've got scouts on horseback that are keeping an eye out," the dwarf replied. "They'll warn us if they spot anything suspicious." He didn't seem even
remotely worried as he settled back on the bench and stroked Merlin.

  "What sort of creatures are out here?" I asked then.

  "Oh, packs of wild dogs, snakes, and scorpions mostly," Clay answered. "Then there's the occasional lone manticore, and a lot of folks talk about encountering the restless spirits of people who died out here and never got a real burial. Nothing to worry about from any of them, though, since we're in a big group. They really only cause you trouble if you're out here on your own."

  "So, there isn’t anything that would attack the wagons?" I questioned as I flicked the reins gently.

  "Oh, every now and then, a flock of gryphons will come down from the mountains, but I don't expect that we'd see any while we're still this far west. The main concern for us is running into one of the burrowing dragons." Clay cocked his head. "And the bandits, of course."

  The first thing that came to my mind then was a documentary I'd seen in school years ago about burrowing owls. I hardly remembered it, but I doubted the burrowing dragons, should we happen to encounter them, would be as cute as those owls had been.

  "How do they survive out here?” I asked as my gaze fell out across the miles and miles of sand and scrubland. “How does anything?"

  "There are a few oases that we know of," Clay answered, "and probably a few more we don't know, but the bandits do, I'm sure. The caravans follow the same old trails, the paths that we know are safe, to get from Gilamar to the Canterrose pass. No sense in us roaming around. Those bandits, though, they have little refuges and hideaways scattered all throughout this desert, no doubt about it."

  "Surely there are other people who have explored more of the desert," I said with a frown. "What about mapmakers? Or bounty hunters?" I found it hard to believe that no one had ever tried to hunt the bandits down if it was common knowledge that so many of them lived out here and they continued to cause trouble for passing merchant caravans.