by S. M. Boyce
“She’s fine,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You, however, are an idiot. Why are you still here?”
“We needed a place to practice. We only stayed last night—”
“Not the cave. Here! Fairhaven! You’re going to get yourself and everyone around you killed.”
“Why? Because I have this thing in my arm?” She lifted her right arm, pointing to the artifact with her other hand to emphasize her point.
He grabbed her hand and lowered it, never touching the relic in her arm. “Exactly. Go home.”
“I don’t have a home,” she snapped.
He groaned, leaning on his staff as he studied her. “And you’re here for vengeance.”
“That, and I’d like to learn how to control this damn thing.”
“You won’t.”
Victoria gritted her teeth. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m going to figure it out even if I have to do it alone.”
“Right, and how’s that working for you?”
“Fine, until you interrupted. If you’re just going to waste my time, leave.”
Fyrn pointed one long finger at Victoria, voice lowering to a dangerous growl. “Listen here, you—”
Styx flitted behind the old wizard, hands on his tiny hips as he mimicked Fyrn’s motions. He squeaked and mumbled, mimicking Fyrn’s voice as well.
“Infuriating pixies.” Fyrn waved the creature away, the blow thankfully too slow to hit Styx. Scowling just as he had the first time she met him, the wizard tapped his staff against the rocky floor. “Need I remind you that you’re on my property, girl?”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll find somewhere else. I don’t need you.”
“Yes, you do. You need someone to teach you about that artifact, but no one here will do it. I certainly won’t. If you want to live longer than a week, you will leave this city and never come back.”
“Why, because my parents asked you a few questions? You think being an ass is going to make you feel better about it?”
“A little bit, yes.”
“Look, they’re dead, okay? Dead. Luak killed them, and I’m going to destroy him if it’s the last thing I do.”
“It will be.”
She lifted her hands impulsively, desperately wishing she could strangle this asshole, but refrained from wasting the effort. “I’m going to get justice. If you’re not going to be useful, will you at least get the hell out?”
He laughed derisively. “Justice or revenge?”
“Why not both? I doubt my family was the first one on his hit list.”
“Do you even know what that thing in your arm is?”
“Take three guesses.”
“It’s a Rhazdon Artifact. It’s feeding off you like a parasite, and as its host you have certain abilities—abilities the people in Fairhaven fear. You will be killed on the spot if anyone so much as sees it.”
Victoria studied the metal dagger, buzzing with exhilaration because the old man had finally said something useful. Now she knew what it was called. “You said it’s an artifact. That means there’s more than this one?”
“Many. There are said to be two hundred and three.”
“Do they all have the same powers?”
He frowned. “Why do you ask?”
“Maybe there’s someone out there who has one and can teach me, since you’re being a jackass about all this.”
“Insult the only person with answers, sure. Very smart.”
She shrugged. She wasn’t wrong.
“Anyone with a Rhazdon Artifact would sooner kill you for it than train you to use it. These are items made from dark magic. They’re dangerous, and so is anyone who wields one. You should leave. Go back to the human world where you belong. Forget about this thing in your arm and wear long sleeves for the rest of your life. It’s for your own good, girl. There’s more going on here than meets the eye, and you’re going to get everyone who talks to you thrown in jail as a host sympathizer.”
“‘Host sympathizer?’ What are you talking about?”
“It’s not just the hosts who are killed on sight. Your friend back there,” he nodded toward the still-frozen Audrey, “and the shopkeeper who’s feeding you are in danger too.”
“How do you know about—”
“Both of them are at risk,” he said, ignoring her question. “Both of them can be jailed, tortured, or killed. It’s not just the artifact in your arm that’s illegal, child. Down here, the belief is that you shouldn’t exist. The moment you make a mistake, the moment you summon that magic in public, you and anyone who tries to protect you will be murdered.”
She stood a little straighter, back arched and body frozen by the thought. For a moment she couldn’t breathe. Seconds passed, and when she regained her composure, she gestured toward the exit. “If you don’t mind, I have some horrifying magic to master and a bad guy to kill.”
“Fine, get yourself stabbed in the streets,” he muttered, limping toward the entrance. He leaned heavily on his staff and snapped his fingers. With the one motion, he both disappeared and released Audrey. She gasped, falling to the ground as she regained movement.
“Fuck that guy!” she shouted, looking over her shoulder.
“He’s a bit of an ass, isn’t he?” Shiloh asked, suddenly appearing beside Victoria. She cursed, jumping a solid foot to the left as he spooked her.
“Couldn’t agree more,” she muttered.
Shiloh nodded. “I like him.”
Victoria gritted her teeth, rubbing her temples to calm herself. “Of course you do.”
Chapter 14
A few hours later, at Bertha’s once more, Victoria leaned against a crate filled with strange purple tomato-ish fruits and stared into the distance. Her training efforts had been pitiful after Fyrn left. It was as if he had taken all her mojo with him. She hadn’t even been able to summon the shield again.
Ugh.
Styx sat on her head eating a tiny piece of apple, which was all Bertha would agree to feed him. As Victoria peeled off small pieces of apple and lifted them to his tiny hands, she occasionally snuck a bite of her own. One elvish woman in a regal gold gown gasped in horror at the sight of Victoria sticking an apple slice in her mouth.
“Sorry, I should share.” Victoria flashed a fake smile and threw the slice at the elf’s gown. It bounced once on the cobblestone at her feet. The woman huffed and, chin raised, stormed off down the street.
These people were crazy. Apples tasted great.
Victoria bit into another apple slice, watching Main Street. Throngs of people passed Bertha’s shop, all of them pausing at one point or another to watch her, to observe and study the strange human in their midst. Bit by bit she was learning the various creatures here—goblins, ogres, elves. It seemed as though a new type of creature walked by every minute, sometimes on four legs. This was truly a mecca for all kinds of beings.
All kinds except hers.
She wondered why she stood out. In the scheme of things, a wizard or witch looked exactly like a human, at least to her. When she had met Fyrn, he had seemed like any other old man she'd ever met in her life, save for the stereotypical beard, staff, and wizard’s hat. Seriously, that thing was comical. And yet, everyone stared at her as though she had three heads.
She paused, scanning the crowd once more. Though she saw elves, many of whom had similar skin tones to humans, there weren't that many witches or wizards here. Even if she were a witch, she would likely stand out like a sore thumb.
Finally done with the apple, she tossed the core into a trash bin by the door and set her palms on the corners of the crate. She was waiting for customers, someone to come by and pay for goods with the little crystals everyone exchanged here. The money, the neighbors, even the light—nothing here was like home. Although she was still on Earth, it felt as if she had traveled to another planet entirely, one where she barely knew anything about the people or their rules. Her heart sank—she was overwhelmed, with no idea where the strang
eness would end. If it would end. Her only choice was to get used to it, to learn the language and customs of this new place, at least until she could kill Luak and go home.
Her jaw tensed as she remembered the house that had burned to ashes with her parents inside. Even though she had been caught up in the moment earlier today with Fyrn, it was true that she didn't have a home anymore.
She scanned the street once more, taking in the four- and five-story houses crammed next to each other in the main thoroughfare. The bustling heads bobbed as they wove through the crowds, everyone trying to get somewhere in this city she knew almost nothing about. Neck craning, she studied the giant crystal stalactite overhead, which miraculously eased her panic somewhat. The beautiful crystal radiated light, a soothing glow that illuminated the cavern and gave her a sliver of peace.
She cautiously set her hand on the artifact in her arm, still hidden as it was beneath her long-sleeved shirt. If she were being honest, the truth was simple: she didn't like not having control, and now she didn't even have control of her own body. This Rhazdon Artifact summoned swords and shields and even healed her. It changed the way she saw the world in both the literal and figurative senses, and she had no say in any of it. She didn’t need to think about the future or what was waiting for her back in Seattle since she was having a hard enough time keeping up with the present.
After her little spat with Fyrn, it had become abundantly clear that she needed a powerful ally. Someone—anyone—who could teach her about this Rhazdon Artifact that had fused with her.
“Four bundles of bamboo and a bag of plits,” a gruff voice said.
She snapped out of her reverie to find a goblin standing in front of her, only about four feet tall but as wide as the doorway. His pointed ears ended a good two feet higher than his head, and had several symmetrical notches in them. They flapped while he spoke, like wings that would never take him anywhere. His squat face reminded Victoria a bit of a frog, with a flat nose and a wrinkly scowl.
“I'm sorry, sir, what was that?”
He snorted, and a puff of smoke shot out of his nose. “Four bundles of bamboo and a bag of plits!”
Plits. Shit. She scanned the crates of fruits and vegetables in front of her, reaching for the bamboo as a diversion while she tried to remember what the hell a plit was. Bertha had given them a rundown of all the fruits and vegetables, but there were at least twenty that Victoria had never seen before in her life. Apparently the food they grew in the caves and farms in Fairhaven was unlike any in the world above, and they seemed hell-bent on using the weirdest fucking names ever.
A plit. Plit. She had used some kind of memorization trick for this one—plit, peach, plink, like metal. Right! A silver peach. She reached for the crate, shoveling six into a small bag hidden in the corner. They squished a little under her touch, as though they were weak, hollow shells filled with water.
“One denni, per usual,” Bertha said from behind.
Victoria spun on her heel, relieved that Bertha had intervened. The ogre had promised to step in when money was involved, but the sensation of an impatient, waiting customer reminded Victoria of the times when, as a kid, her mom would leave her in the checkout line to go get something she had forgotten—the tension, the nerves, not being able to pay and the fear of holding up the line.
The goblin grumbled something unintelligible, and Bertha chuckled under her breath. It was likely an insult in another language, but Victoria didn’t care what some grumpy old gremlin thought of her. She pretended to busy herself rearranging the plits.
As she knelt to retrieve one that had fallen to the ground, something hovered in her periphery. It was the tiniest goblin she had ever seen—probably no more than two and half feet tall, with pink bows tied around the base of her thin ears. She smiled, her face wrinkling and her ears flapping a little bit as she handed Victoria a blue flower with a glowing pink center.
Victoria smiled, still kneeling as she accepted the flower. “It's beautiful. Thank you.”
The girl giggled and ran after the larger goblin, who must have been her father. Victoria studied the flower, her nerves settling somewhat at the small act of kindness. She stuck it behind her ear.
Audrey walked outside, the steps creaking underneath her as she brought out a crate of blue bananas. “Do you have an admirer already? Jeez, save some for me.”
Victoria grinned. “Just a very nice little girl.”
Audrey set down the crates with a huff and dusted off her hands. “Well, that's—”
“Thief! My bag! S-someone help!”
“Huh?” Victoria scanned the crowd. A hole had formed around an elvish woman. Her yellow gown spilled over the cobblestones, her massive sleeve hanging from a thin wrist as she pointed toward the castle. It didn’t take long to find what she was pointing at—another elf raced through the crowd, a hood over his head as he pushed past people and knocked others over crates.
Victoria didn't hesitate. She took off after him, keeping to the edges of the crowd so she could run faster. Sure enough, several people in the crowd had slowed him down, and every time he threw his shoulder into one of them he lost a bit of momentum. Victoria, on the other hand, caught up fairly quickly.
This was where her kickboxing skills finally became useful. She grinned, excited at the prospect of a fight after being without her classes since beginning their little adventure. Kickboxing had been a form of therapy that she desperately needed to return to soon.
As she neared the thief, she ducked into the crowd, eager to find gaps between the bodies wherever she could. It didn’t take long. In seconds, she had tackled him. The crowd parted, giving them space. He swung, his hook missing her face by inches. She pinned his arm to the ground and socked him in the nose. He lost his grip on the leather bag, its metal latch clinking as it hit the ground. She stood, allowing just enough space between them to bring her leg back and drop her knee into his stomach. He doubled over, gasping for air. She cocked a fist, ready to throw another blow if she had to, but he stumbled to his feet and bolted into the crowd.
Victoria debated going after him, but she didn't see the point. He had dropped the bag, and that was really all that mattered.
Careful to make sure nothing had fallen out in the tussle, Victoria grabbed the bag and jogged back to the elf who had raised all the commotion in the first place. The elf paced in front of a store, her yellow dress like a beacon guiding Victoria, and smiled a bit as their eyes met. She bowed her head, muttering something in a language Victoria didn't understand.
“Your bag,” Victoria said, handing the leather satchel over.
“Ah, English. Thank you,” the elf said, smiling broadly as she gently set the handbag’s strap over her shoulder. She placed her hands on Victoria's cheeks and pulled her close, until she and the elf were almost nose to nose. Confused and a little uncomfortable, Victoria tensed. But that was all she did. With another small nod of her head, the elf disappeared into the bustling crowd.
“Very good, very good,” a man said. Someone patted her shoulder, and Victoria found an ogre behind her who was even bigger than Bertha. He smiled, the wrinkles in his face exaggerated by his large nose.
She headed back to Bertha’s stand, and nearly everyone she passed patted her on the back or nodded approvingly in her direction. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she nodded and said thank you where she could. As Victoria approached Bertha's shop, the great big ogre grinned broadly.
Audrey smirked next to her, a look of approval and pride on her face. “Ya done good.”
Victoria laughed. “My head is going to explode if I get any more embarrassed. I just did what anyone would do.”
Bertha shook her head. “That purse would have been gone if you weren't here. Audrey tried to help you as well, but I figured I needed her more. You look like you've been in a fight or two.”
“Just on the mat in practice.” On the ground by the plits, Victoria spotted the blue flower the goblin girl had given her. She picke
d it up, examining it to make sure it hadn’t been trampled.
Bertha shrugged. “Regardless, that brand of kindness won’t be forgotten around here. You just made some friends, Victoria. In fact—”
“What?”
“Hmm. Yes. You both may have potential.” Bertha held her chin in her fingers, scanning them.
Audrey crossed her arms. “Cryptic much?”
“Fairhaven is known for its food, but we also play a mean game of Berserk. I think you would both do well on my brother’s team.”
Victoria laughed. She couldn’t help it. “Do we even want to know what that is?”
“A fun game, I assure you. I’ll speak with him and see if he needs more players.”
Audrey leaned in, voice a whisper. “Is that a good idea? You shouldn’t be around people, much less in a game called “Berserk.’”
Victoria’s smile faded. “You’re probably right. Let’s play it by ear. Maybe you could have some fun, though, if the game looks like something you’d enjoy.”
“Ugly but good-natured,” Bertha said under her breath. The ogre apparently hadn’t heard them as she lumbered up the stairs into her shop, smiling.
“Seriously, she needs stop calling us ugly,” Audrey said under her breath.
Victoria shook her head, laughing, and once more tucked the little blue flower behind her ear.
Chapter 15
Their evening shift at Bertha’s finally over, Audrey sat in Victoria’s training cave, no longer bothering to keep an eye out for the old wizard since he had been able to surprise her last time. Part of her wondered if he would turn them in, but common sense said he wouldn’t. If he had wanted to, he would have already. Instead of worrying she watched Victoria train, and it wasn't going well.
Styx sat on Audrey’s shoulder, and they had both spent most of the last hour wincing as Victoria hurt herself in increasingly colorful ways.
With a large gash across her cheek from her last run-in with the shield, Victoria spread her feet in a sparring stance and lifted her right arm as if she were waiting for a falcon to land on it. The awkward pose had created the best results so far, though that was admittedly a generous way to phrase it. Audrey wondered what her buddy would try to summon this time—not that it really mattered. The shield and the sword seemed to appear with equal irregularity.
