Metal Mage 4

by Eric Vall

  I grimaced. “Yeah.”

  “Well,” Haragh threw over his shoulder, “next time we’ll turn our backs and sing a wee song while the three of ye say your goodbyes, how’s that sound?”

  Aurora jabbed the half-ogre hard in the arm before she winked and headed for the engine.

  I watched her hips sway as she went, and then I felt a nibble at my ear lobe. Before Cayla could react, I turned, caught her tongue in my teeth, and pulled her firm against me as I devoured the sweet honey of her lips. I didn’t know if it was the looming curse of the Master ahead, or my body fighting the dropping temperatures, but the heat that burned in my groin seemed to radiate through the metallic innards of the locomotive.

  Cayla blinked and gasped when I released her. Her lips were swollen, and her porcelain skin was flushed a brilliant pink.

  She cleared her throat. “Let’s do this,” she chuckled. Then she straightened her taut jacket and left me to the task ahead.

  Resuming our work felt like an ironic slap in the face, given the realizations of the last few minutes, but we all settled in and channeled our powers at once. I could sense the Terra Mages were being careful with their energy, and they helped one another to conserve as much as they could. From the smell of the air, Aurora and Mina were doing the same as well.

  As I started laying tracks, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for my team. I still couldn’t fully grasp why they trusted my judgement, but I was honored that they were as dedicated to ridding this beautiful land of some invisible magical Master as I was, and I knew I was lucky for it.

  Yaxin and Durigh didn’t look anything close to proud, though. They looked about as pleased as any common tradesman who was suddenly sentenced to a frigid trek against evil would be. But to their credit, they weren’t running for the hills. Durigh cursed a few times, settled himself to the floor, and let his lanky legs dangle.

  Yaxin, on the other hand, shot me a look that could only have meant, “If I die because of this, I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

  I could respect that.

  Chapter 8

  As I continued to lay the tracks, Shoshanne used her magic to push against the raging wind that came straight at us from the approaching ridge. Still, the cold bit at our faces like knives, and the clouds sat only a few feet above the top of the locomotive. A storm had started up only a couple of minutes ago, and I kept telling myself this was a good thing.

  If there was only a valley separating us from the Draconis Mountains, then anything that tried to stop me from crossing was scared shitless. A grin spread on my face, and I left it there even though my teeth started to freeze.

  “Cut the engine!” I hollered to the Ignis Mages over the howl of the wind.

  We came to a slow stop just at the edge of the ridge, and the land sloped down at a steady grade into a barren valley. A long and frozen river divided the base, and just on the other side was the city of Garioch.

  The city in the foothills lay within high and darkly mottled walls, and it had an unceremonious gate made of solid wood. None of the buildings appeared to be tall enough to reach above the height of the walls, though, and the whole appearance gave the impression that the city was a solitary and unfriendly place, with little to offer any travellers.

  “Huh,” Durigh said. His hands were crooked on his lower back, so his lanky body folded forward a bit, and his shoulders were hunched as his chin jutted forward. He squinted through the clouds that settled low in the valley.

  “Let me guess,” I said, “it’s not what it used to be.”

  Judging by the expression on the tradesmen’s faces, the view was as troubling as the barren stretch of land that led us here.

  “Welp,” he shrugged, “that cliff sure never had that much ice on it. But other than that, looks about the same. Cold. Empty.”

  “Sounds about right,” I snorted. “Aurora, you see that ice cliff?”

  “Hard to miss it,” she replied.

  “While we head into the valley, I want you to start thinking of a way to thaw it that won’t cause an avalanche,” I instructed.

  The half-elf gave a curt nod, and her emerald eyes were already working through the problem. “Mina and I will work on it. I think we should have Bagnera stay to help out before she heads back.”

  “Me too,” I agreed. “Yaxin. How many miles into those mountains until we reach the capital of Orebane?”

  “Straight over the top, it’s about forty,” the trader answered. “But getting around all them peaks? Could be anything.”

  Haragh chimed in. “We don’t have to get around all of them. Five Terra Mages ought to be able to tunnel through a few, at least. I’d say you’re looking at another sixty, judging by the map.”

  “That’s if you’re heading straight to the capital,” Durigh added. “Thrungrig’s mines ain’t that far in.”

  “The dwarf you have an agreement with?” I clarified.

  The tradesman nodded. “Him and his crew mine not twenty miles from Garioch. On the path we took, anyways.”

  “Do you think the train could make it through?” I felt my magic pulse to the surface of my skin at the words.

  “No sayin’. Depends how much ice we’re looking at. The path ain’t wide enough for much, and it runs along the cliff there.” He pointed out a slim ridge that curled from the base inwards along the insanely steep cliff.

  I could work with that.

  “We’ll aim for the path you two took,” I said. “Haragh, you know much about forming mountains?”

  The half-ogre looked insulted. “What do you think?” he growled.

  Cayla leaned in to my shoulder. “The ogres hail from the western foothills,” she murmured.

  “Right,” I grimaced, and then I threw my friend an apologetic smile. “You know I’m not from around here.”

  “Yeah,” he snorted and turned back to the ridge. “What are we sitting around for? Nothing but a bit of a storm. Let’s go.”

  We all got to our places. The Ignis Mages started up the engine, and Shoshanne posted herself at the lip of the locomotive. The wind immediately let up as the woman’s copper curls lifted and began to twirl around her head.

  As I laid the first track, I felt a rush of heat at my back, and I turned to see my half-elf smiling. Her free hand had conjured an orange ball of flame, and the heat it put off caught on Shoshanne’s breeze and began to warm the frigid locomotive around us.

  I wanted to tell her she’d just invented the heater, but I figured the conversation hardly mattered. I sent her a wink, which she returned by subtly licking her bottom lip with her baby blue lashes hooded over her eyes in a provocative way.

  I groaned and turned back to my work.

  I doubled down on my track laying time, since I knew the extra effort my mages exerted against the storm. The Terra Mages caught on and met my pace as they flattened the rocky slope that led into the valley. With no trees, we were able to make it to the river in record time, and Haragh leapt from the train to meet us at its frozen edge. By the time we came to a stop, he was already crouched in the dirt and had started to pull the supports for the bridge from the rocks under his feet. The rest of us Terra Mages joined his circuit, and I let his design fill my mind. It was a good one. Sturdy enough to withstand the wind, and bulky at either end so the relatively short distance across the frozen river wouldn’t require any additional supports to be pulled up through the ice.

  We were finished in minutes.

  “Damn,” I said with a low whistle. Then I walked to the top of the bridge with Pindor close behind to admire our work, and a smirk spread across my mouth. “That’ll do. Let’s roll!” I jabbed the young man’s shoulder, and I was happy to see his eager smile back in place.

  The increased pace had already taken a toll on my strength, but I ignored the throbbing in my elbows and shoulders. We had a day to rest in Garioch. I’d let up when we got there.

  By the time we got to the gates of Garioch, everyone in the locomotive was straini
ng hard to keep their magic at a steady stream, but no one said a word of complaint. It was like I’d created a well-oiled machine.

  Which technically, I had.

  Aurora cut the engine as a group of hooded figures exited the gate. They were heavy with furs, each one a different shade of brown or grey. The large man at the front of the group of six wore a crisp white fur coat that billowed around his boots in the wind. Haragh, Aurora, Cayla, and I walked out to meet them a hundred feet from the train.

  “The hell is that?” the figure in the white fur demanded. His voice was gravelly and sounded like rocks grinding against one another.

  “It’s--” I started to answer, but I was interrupted by a laugh at my back.

  Durigh and Yaxin weren’t far behind us.

  “No shit,” the lanky tradesman chuckled. “That’s what I said first time I saw it. Hell of a metal beast ain’t it? How are ye, Krick?”

  The hood of the figure in front of me dropped, and a weather worn man with a grizzly grey beard squinted past my head.

  “Durigh!” he shouted. “The hell have you done?” The deep creases in the man’s rough skin looked livid, and his brows were wild and grew in every direction above a piercing green stare.

  Durigh didn’t pause. He brushed right past me to give the man’s hand a hardy shake, and Yaxin was close behind.

  The hard lines of Krick’s face didn’t ease an inch, but a rumbling laugh came from behind the beard. He clapped the tradesman on the shoulder and turned to a man at his side.

  “Looks like Durigh’s in a new trade,” Krick growled.

  The other hood dropped to reveal a face nearly over run with a thick black beard and sturdy brow to match. “What’s it gonna cost us?” the man asked outright. His voice was deep and hoarse in his throat.

  “Not a damn thing,” Yaxin chimed in. “How the hell are ye, Gorick?” The two men shook hands heartily, but the bearded men narrowed their eyes in response.

  “Horse shit,” Krick growled.

  I decided to step up. “No, it’s true. I’m Mason Flynt. I built this behemoth on behalf of the Kings of Illaria and Cedis to open trade routes to connect our lands. We’re here to build a station for your town and carry on into Orebane.”

  The two men had been listening with stern eyes beneath their thick brows, but when I mentioned Orebane, they finally looked stunned.

  “You’re drunk,” Krick informed me.

  “Nope.” I grinned. “Just crazy.”

  The grizzly man snorted. “Must be,” he muttered and then looked over to the train at my back. “Them dwarves will run ye right off a cliff if you try and bring this damn thing over there, but it’s your neck.” He coughed loudly and hacked a wad of spit down wind. “Well ‘long as it doesn’t come at a price,” he looked hard at Durigh for a moment, “you can sign us up. Though when you die in Orebane, it’ll be a waste of everyone’s time.”

  Durigh chuckled, but it sounded uneasy.

  Cayla slid a glance at me and Haragh. Neither of us turned in response.

  “Great,” I continued. “We’ll get straight to work. We’ll need a place to rest for the night, if that’s not too much to ask. Our next shipment of rails is due in by tomorrow.”

  “I gotta pay for them rails, whatever they are?” Krick asked.

  “No sir,” I grinned, “it’s on me.”

  He grumbled and nodded before he turned his back and covered his wild gray hair in the hood once more. Gorick clapped Yaxin on the shoulder and then joined the other retreating men, who’d left us in the barren wasteland outside Garioch.

  I exchanged a wry look with Haragh before I hailed the Terra Mages over. “You know what to do,” I said as we crouched and joined in a circuit. The platform had just begun to form when a hoarse call interrupted us.

  Krick was turned, and his fist was raised above the furious lines of his face.

  I couldn’t make out his words over the wind, just an angry stream of gravel.

  Durigh leaned down near my ear. “He’s not gonna be happy if he’s gotta trek out in this cold to get to the station,” he clarified. “Better follow him on a ways.”

  We did as the tradesman said and met Krick where he stood with his arms crossed.

  “The train’s pretty loud,” I began, but the bearded man cut me off.

  “Think I give a shit? Put it there.” He gestured and then turned to abandon us once more. He’d pointed directly at the stone wall beside the town gates.

  Haragh just shrugged and walked on.

  I wasn’t going to argue with anyone a foot taller than me, so I just followed suit.

  We pulled the rock from the earth and melded it to the great stone wall. The granite here looked to be mottled with obsidian, with black flecks and patches that gave the structure a look as foreboding as the man who’d ordered it. Once the warehouse was completed, we agreed to run the tracks right up to the station before entering the city.

  Shoshanne’s words about the air here still had me on high alert, and I didn’t like how open the valley around us was. The forty-foot wall at our back would mean we would have no way to check on the locomotive while inside the gates of Garioch. I decided to pull a wall up along the outer edge, in order to block the view of the train from the open valley. Haragh joined me in the effort, but when we’d finished, he leaned closer so his words wouldn’t be heard by the others.

  “Think it’ll make a difference?” he muttered.

  It didn’t sound like a question, though, so I didn’t bother to answer.

  We gathered our things and approached the gates, and we found the men in furs had left them open for us. Directly inside, the town was dim and seemed to exist in perpetual shadow. Between the looming cliff at its back, and the brackish wall stretching the length of the other borders, it seemed more like an unfortunate fortress than a town. All of the buildings that lined the barren streets were made of giant stones of the same mottled mixture of granite and obsidian. The roofs were wood and were either painted black, or they had gathered the color with soot and age. The people were grim and moved around us in the frenzy of their work, but no dancers or merry music filled the streets.

  It was clear Garioch was a working man’s town, and it reminded me of old pictures I’d seen of coal mining villages. Even the women I could see looked bulky with muscles beneath their furs. None of the townsfolk were as well clad as the six men we’d spoken with in the valley, though. Their furs were black and deep grays, dusted over with grime and soot, and their boots fell heavy on the bald ground.

  Haragh gave a low hmph at my side. When I checked, he looked more pleased than he had all day. “Not bad,” he mused with a nod.

  I smirked. The man’s giant size and strange green sheen did look oddly at home in the dim and grimy town.

  “Aye,” Durigh agreed. He was at the half-ogre’s side and looked to be in his element. “Garioch’s a beaut. Krick’ll be waiting in the logger’s tavern.” He motioned toward a large stone building with a sturdy iron door. It looked about as welcoming as a dungeon.

  “You sure?” I asked. Something made me doubt the man in the fine furs liked to play host.

  Durigh shrugged and led the way in response. Entering the logger’s tavern was actually a lot like walking into a dungeon. The heavy wrought iron door only yielded when Haragh stepped up to give it a good shove. Inside, the walls, floor, and giant support columns were all made of the same dark stonework, stacked in a way that clearly didn’t care about uniformity. Jagged ridges of obsidian jutted out of the walls, so any person here who might lean against them would end up either bruised or gouged. Torches lined the walls, but the light was dim, and I was forced to squint to make out the shapes of the people seated and standing around long wooden tables.

  A booming laugh broke out in the far corner, and a man with a grizzly beard slammed a heavy fist to the table. Several glasses rattled in response, but Durigh smiled and wove his way through the burly patrons. We waited where we stood as the lanky trades
man approached the table that was occupied by the other men we’d met in the valley. The one he’d called Gorick rose and clapped a hand so firm to his shoulder that Durigh hunched by several inches under the weight. Then he turned and waved us over.

  I led my lovers and mages to the table, and I was pleased to find large mugs of ale lined up and waiting.

  “Here!” Krick boomed, still chuckling from whatever had been said before we entered. “Drink up, foods on the way.” It seemed that with a little ale in him, the man certainly didn’t stand on ceremony.

  I started to like him.

  Cayla looked closely at the frothing mug before she raised it gingerly to her lips.

  “Don’t tell me you don’t like ale?” I chided.

  “I don’t know,” she answered and paused with the mug below her smirking lips. “I’ve always liked wine too much to bother with it.”

  I drained half my mug to show her how it was done, and then I wiped the foam from my two-week old beard with a satisfied smack of my lips.

  Cayla’s eyes sparkled above the rim of her glass, and she did her best to match my approach. Her sweet cheeks bulged with her eyes as she gulped down the last of her attempt. Then she burst out laughing.

  Aurora clinked her glass to the princess’s. “There you go,” the half-elf giggled before she slowly drained her own.

  Krick laughed hardily when she clunked the empty mug down. “That’s more like it!” he cheered.

  Aurora glowed and rolled her eyes good naturedly. Then she leaned forward as the other men continued their raucous conversations, and Durigh and Yaxin laughed along with them.

  “I like these guys,” the half-elf said with a grin, and Cayla nodded behind her mug.

  I chuckled my agreement. Next to me, Pindor, Jovion, and Zerla looked perfectly content. They rested their elbows on the table and drank their ale without need of invitation. Shoshanne put in an admirable effort, but she grimaced and set the mug back down after one sip. She then slid it a few more inches away from her for good measure.

  The food was brought on two giant metal platters and was dropped heavily at the center of the long table together with a pile of dull cutlery. Two steaming piles of boar meat were surrounded with greens, and three loaves of bread as big as my own head followed. Without pause, all of the men began to scrape mounds of food onto their plates, and I didn’t need to be told twice.