Rise of the Retics

by T J Lantz

  Next stop, Dr. Kelda.

  Chapter 23

  Friends in All the Wrong Places

  Jaxon

  Rosehaven: Mining District

  November 11, 1503

  Cranky didn’t begin to describe Jaxon’s feelings. Cranky was your mentality when you woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Jaxon woke up on the wrong side of the bed, in a dark dank cell, with a headache that felt like tiny lumberjacks were living in his brain and slowly cutting it down for wood. This went far beyond cranky.

  As he slowly opened his eyes and adjusted to the small bits of flickering light in the room, he could see that his captors had spared no expense for his stay—he had both a bucket, for functions that only a bucket would be appropriate for, and a bowl of brown slop to eat. Strangely enough, the bucket was the better smelling of the two items.

  As Jaxon tried to gain his bearings and his balance, images of the attack on him and Rigby flooded back into his brain. Over and over again, he kept seeing her lying there, too injured to even defend herself. The picture seared through his mind, burning in a kind of pain that could never be removed.

  All my fault. She’s dead because of me.

  The images made him seethe with anger. Jumping up, he grabbed the iron cell bars and tried to shake them loose as he let out a primal bellow. They didn’t budge, but that didn’t stop him from trying a second and third time. Finally, he gave up, plopping down in an exhausted heap.

  “Stop ya’ yammering, fo’ I come in and stop it for ya’.” The deep voice came echoing into the room from down a dark hallway a few yards away from Jaxon’s cell. He watched in that direction as the torchlight coming from the wall sconces illuminated a large figure approaching. Jaxon could see that the creature was massive, at least twelve feet tall. The humongous retic had to bend slightly so his head didn’t hit the ceiling as he entered the room.

  The creature made the two dwarfs look like beauties. He wore only a small tattered brown cloth to cover his delicate parts, exposing the rest of his body to Jaxon’s view. He had dark skin, not deep ebony like Lord Malverne’s, but more a soft red, like sundried brick. All over his body, large sheets of dead skin flaked and peeled off. It was like his body didn’t know whether to tan or burn in the sun, so it decided to do both.

  The retic was completely bald, matching the hairlessness of his thick arms, muscular legs and flabby gut. He almost looked like a gigantic infant, except for his face. That was what gave it all away. Here Jaxon was mesmerized by his single blood red eye that stared straight back at him.

  “Whoa, ugly!” exclaimed Jaxon, startled by the cyclops’s appearance. “Who are you? And, if possible, can you please put some clothes on? This is cruel and unusual to say the least.”

  “I’m the one who says when ya’ get to speak, Half-blood, and I haven’t say when yet, so shut up.” The large cyclops emphasized his command by rapping the cell bars with the large wooden club he had been carrying. “Now ya’ sit down and eat ya’ dinner. Mirra say ya’ won’t be here long anyway.”

  “Really, she’s going to let me go?” Jaxon answered optimistically. “That seems very nice of her.”

  “It depend on that family you got that lets you live with them,” answered the cyclops. “If they pay up ransom money real fast, then we free to kill ya’ so ya’ can’t tell no ones who took ya’. If they don’t pay up than we kill ya’ for fun. Either way, should be a good afternoon.”

  Jaxon took a deep breath before he responded. What had he gotten himself into?

  “Not to be a downer on your delightful daytime plans, but I have serious concerns about whether or not your organization understands how a ransom works. If my foster parents pay the money, than you’re required to give me back to them. That’s the whole point of the deal.”

  “Why?” responded the cyclops, confused that Jaxon would even be questioning their rationale.

  “Because it’s a ransom,” Jaxon responded with exuberance. “They pay it to get me back. If you don’t give me back then you’re breaking the rules of kidnapping.”

  “Well I think that rule is stupid. You could just tell them who kidnapped you and then we all get put in the dungeons. That would be pretty terrible business on our part. At least that’s what Mirra says. She’s very smart ya’ know—she has many ideas.”

  “What if I just promised not to tell anyone?” Jaxon asked.

  “We wouldn’t believe you. You’re demon-blooded. Ya’ have a reputation for lying. Ya’ can’t be trusted.”

  Jaxon sighed loudly. He needed a new plan, as this conversation was clearly going nowhere very fast.

  “So is Mirabella coming back? I would really like to talk to her.”

  “Don’t worry, because she won’t be gone too long. She wouldn’t want a tiny little thing like ya’ to worry. She very good like that. Very caring faerie.”

  “Oh excellent! Nice to know she has such admirable personal qualities. I must remember to send her a thank you card for letting me stay here during my kidnapping. It was so thoughtful of all of you.”

  “You’re welcome,” replied the cyclops without a hint of sarcasm. “Bryndin”

  “Bryndin? What’s a Bryndin?”

  I am. Ya’ asked my name earlier. It is Bryndin. I figured since ya’ only gonna be alive for a few more hours that it can’t hurt no one to tell ya’.”

  “You know, Bryndin, you don’t have to kill me. I’m willing to bet we could work out a fabulous deal for everyone that lets me stay alive and lets you to get rich.”

  “No. That’s not the plan, and Mirra gets very, very angry when we don’t do things exactly like she tells us to.”

  “Tough boss?”

  “Da’ toughest. Once last year I was fifteen minutes late for torture duty, we was teaching a lesson to a guy who didn’t pay up all his debts to Mirra, anyway—it was just fifteen minutes and she does this.” The Cyclops held up his left hand to show Jaxon what the issue was.

  At first Jaxon didn’t understand, his throbbing headache not making things any clearer. Then he saw it, or more precisely counted it: one, two, three, four . . . .

  “She cut off one of your fingers for being a little late for work?!” Jaxon couldn’t believe she would do that, worse why would the cyclops continue to work for her after that? Seeing the situation, Jaxon began to formulate an idea.

  “Yup, she even made me tell her which one was my favorite.” The cyclops began to sob slightly “. . . it was my pinky. That was always my best feature.”

  “Your best feature was your pinky?”

  “Yeah,” Bryndin snapped back, all signs of sobbing quickly erased. “You gots a problem with that?”

  “No, no, of course not. I just find it hard to believe that a man of your stature would choose his pinky as his best trait over all the other fantastic things he had going for him.”

  The cyclops stared at him with his huge red eye. “Are you making fun of me, Half-breed?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Me? Of course not. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Trust me, a retic of your intelligence would know if I was mocking him. I mean, from what I’ve seen regarding your little organization, you’re without a doubt the brains. That’s why Mirabella always gets mad if you don’t follow her plans exactly. She’s afraid everyone will see that your plans are smarter and then they won’t listen to her anymore.”

  “You really think so?” Bryndin replied. “Mirra always says I’m a big stupid oaf who can’t do nothin’ right. She reminds me of my mama”

  “Bah, I met her earlier. She’s nothing special. Kinda loony if you ask me, but I can tell you already knew that what with the pinky issue and all. And her two bodyguards, they looked like they couldn’t think their way out of an open box. Nope, trust me, as a recipient of your kidnapping services, I can tell you with absolute certainty that this place couldn’t run without you.”

  “That’s very nice of you to say Half-blood . . . I miss my pinky. I used to use it all the time.”

 
“Really? You should tell me about it. What was your favorite memory?” Jaxon figured that question should buy him a few minutes to think.

  “Oh that easy. There were this one time at the fair when we was tipping over cows. Not competitively or anything. That wasn’t till later . . . .”

  Jaxon began to plot as the cyclops continued to tell his story. He had accomplished his goal and had opened a line of dialogue. Communication is the first step to manipulation. Jaxon wasn’t sure where he had heard that line, but he liked it.

  Now, he just needed to convince Bryndin to let him go. But how?

  “And that’s how I ended up eating matzo ball soup for the first time.”

  “What a fantastic tale you tell, Bryndin,” Jaxon responded realizing that he was finished. “It reminded me of the stories my foster mother used to tell before bedtime, back when I lived with her. You know, before I was forced against my will to be held hostage here.”

  “She sounds nice. My mother used to hit me with a spoon before bed. I never knew why. It hurt.”

  “Yeah, Saan was alright sometimes.” Thinking about his foster mother, he realized how much he missed her—William too. He hated that he might never get the chance to see them again.

  I swear, he thought to himself, that if I get out of this alive, I will find them and I will thank them for everything they have done for me.

  “Saan the satyr is your mom?” asked Bryndin excitedly.

  “Yeah. Well, foster mother,” Jaxon responded, still thinking about his family.

  “The one who sings by Alabaster Tower every morning?”

  “Yup, that’s the one.”

  “Jumping jahibnits! I love her! She make the best music I ever heard! I stop and listen every morning before I go to work. It helps me be able to face Mirra each day. It was the real reason I was late that day when I lost my pinky. Your mama has such a pretty voice! When I get sad, I sing her songs to myself and then I feel better. I always try to toss her coins, but she never accepts. She’s really good like that. I can’t believe you know her!”

  Jaxon saw his opening.

  “Yeah, it’s gonna be terrible for everyone when she can’t sing anymore,” he said with sadness in his voice.

  “She’s not gonna sing anymore? What are you talking about?” Bryndin seemed very concerned. He leaned in, as if moving his head a few feet closer might get him the information faster.

  “Well, I mean, if she has to pay a ransom that costs a lot of money then she’ll have to stop signing for free at the Tower and get a paying job to cover it. Maybe she might even work here in the mines. The first couple of years wouldn’t be too bad, but then one day all of a sudden her voice starts to get a bit scratchy and before you know it BOOM, completely mute. Another victim of black lung.”

  Jaxon had no idea what black lung actually was, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with mines and that Bryndin knew less than he did.

  “No! Not the black lung. Saan is too pretty to work in the mines.”

  “Oh sure, she’s pretty now, but just wait until she finds out her one and only son is deceased. She’ll be so sad she won’t even be able to leave the house or wash her horns or anything. You now, I don’t care what happens to me, but I’d hate to see anything so terrible happen to Saan. She just doesn’t deserve it.”

  Bryndin looked like his new puppy just got trampled by a horse. Jaxon knew he had him.

  “It’s a huge shame too. She had just finished a new song and she hadn’t even had a chance to sing it yet.”

  “A new song? Really? What’s it called?” The thought of a new song seemed to raise his spirits back up a bit.

  “I believe she said the title was “My One Eyed Love,” or something just like that.”

  Bryndin’s face perked up completely. “I have one eye! Maybe the song is about me?”

  “Oh it could be. She always used to say how handsome she found cyclops men to be.”

  “You need to go home, little demon. Go home so that Saan can make more beautiful music for Bryndin to enjoy.” The cyclops fumbled for the right key on his belt. He found it after a few moments, unlocked the door and swung it open for Jaxon.

  “Thank you, Bryndin. I’ll make sure to tell Saan how you were the hero today!” Jaxon fought to keep the smirk off his face as he gathered himself.

  He’s gonna lose a lot more than a pinky for this one, thought Jaxon as he headed out the door toward freedom

  Chapter 24

  Doctor’s Orders

  Tyranna

  Rosehaven: Dr. Kelda’s Home

  November 11, 1503

  Crash! The sound pierced the night as Gnipper crashed right through the dark green shutters of Dr. Kelda’s second floor window. Tyranna had been wondering about how the gnome was planning on stopping and now she had her answer—she wasn’t.

  Running alongside her fleet-footed Florensian friend, Tyranna urged her body on, begging it to produce as much speed as it could despite the limp canine body hanging from her mouth. Steam poured from the sides of her jaw as the heat of her muzzle struggled against Rigby’s quickly cooling body.

  As they arrived at the doctor’s front door, it was already being swung open for them. Just inside, a woozy and slightly stumbling Gnipper urged them in with a swinging arm.

  Tyranna was happy to see that the doorway was far wider than average and didn’t impede her entrance.

  “Put her on the table.”

  The barked order came from Dr. Kelda, a tall unicorn, the color of fresh snow in an open field. Tyranna listened to her instructions and placed Rigby’s limp form onto a raised rectangular table in the middle of the room.

  “How long has she been like this?”

  Tyranna tried to answer, but her voice was little more than a soft growl. In the excitement of the moment she realized that she was still a bear. Concentrating and taking several deep breaths, she returned to her normal form.

  “About an hour or so, Doctor,” She answered timidly. “Can you help her?”

  “I don’t know yet. She looks to be in bad shape.” Dr. Kelda ran her muzzle over Rigby’s, sniffing and listening to her body. Rigby’s eyes opened and her breathing got a little heavier, but she didn’t flinch a muscle otherwise.

  “Broken ribs, definitely. I’d wager internal bleeding, maybe even from the brain. Gnipper says it was Mirabella who did this.”

  “She saw an orange winged faerie with facial scars,” Sam said.

  “Yeah, not much question on that one,” Dr. Kelda responded as she listened to Rigby’s heartbeat with her ear. “No one else around here that matches that description. Or this result for that matter. I’ve seen many retics in here the past few years with similar stories and identical injuries. It never seems to end with her.”

  “Why hasn’t she been arrested?” Tyranna asked.

  Oh, she has. Many, many times actually. The problem is her grandfather is simply too powerful for her to ever get in much trouble. He pays off the victims to change their stories, and if they won’t, he just makes sure they can’t talk. Let me tell you, as a doctor, once a tongue is cut off, there is very little chance of getting it back on in working order no matter how fast you get here. Deidre, I’m going to need a scalpel and some hot water.”

  Tyranna watched as a small brownie in a white and red dress with matching cap popped up from behind the door of one of the wall cabinets. She was as small as Stella and Cletus, but unlike them, she didn’t make a sound, instead just immediately adhering to the doctor’s request.

  “She’s my nurse.” Kelda answered Tyranna’s question before the girl had even formed it. “She helps me take care of the patients and keeps the place in order. Indispensable around here, for sure. The patients love her and she provides the one thing I never could—hands.”

  The brownie returned quickly with the supplies the doctor asked for.

  “The three of you are going to need to wait outside for a few hours. This is a delicate procedure to say the least and the le
ss distraction the better. Stay by the front door and come right in if you see anyone.”

  “But Dr. Kelda,” Tyranna said, “we can’t stay. We need to find Jaxon before Mirabella kills him!”

  “Slow down. Gnipper didn’t mention anything about a Jaxon. Are you talking about the demon-blooded child? The one that was in the arena against Samantha a few weeks ago? I met him a few times for check-ups when he was younger. He tried to bite me once. I told him if he ever did that again I would bite him back. He never did.”

  “Yes, that’s him. He’s Rigby’s master. He was out with her when they were attacked. They left Rigby to die, but one of the dwarves picked up Jaxon and took him with them.

  “So, the boy has been kidnapped? This is terrible news. As soon as the sun is up, I’ll send you to get the sheriff.”

  “Why can’t we just go now, Kelda?” Gnipper chimed in. Tyranna noticed she had her skillet helmet off and was rubbing her head vigorously.

  “Well first off Gnipper, you’re not going anywhere. I would be willing to bet that you have a bit of a concussion from your dazzling entrance through my shutters. More importantly, you’ve already seen what can happen out on the streets at night. I’m not sending three young girls out into the night with no way to protect themselves.”

  Tyranna glanced over at Sam, who looked mortified at Kelda’s insinuation that she couldn’t defend herself.

  “But Dr. Kelda, Tyranna can fly to the sheriff without anyone being able to see her. And Sam’s the best swordsman at school. If anyone could take Mirabella in a duel it would be her.”

  “Gnipper, I understand that Tyranna can shift. I did just see a polar bear in my parlor. And I was at the arena to watch Samantha duel, so I’m aware how talented she is, but it would still be quite irresponsible of me to allow you three out alone. Your father would never forgive me, Gnipper.”

  “Sure he would,” Gnipper responded. “Because we don’t ever have to tell him.”

  “Gnipper, take your friends and go outside. I’ll let you know when surgery is complete and when you can come back in, but for now I need to be alone with my patient.”