“I’m really sorry.”
“Two can play at this game,” Sari declares, sheathing her daggers. She stops when her rival steps in front of the half-elf and blocks her from Luke. “Oh, I’m not going to copy your amateurish ploy. There’s a better way to get under your skin, little heiress.”
“What are you-” Kira begins before the blue-haired champion kisses her. She fights against the gypsy who becomes immovable to lock her in place. By the time they separate, the heiress is gasping for air and trying not to lick the sweet taste from her lips. “Why did you do that?”
“To show you what Luke will be enjoying while you’re out of the picture,” Sari whispers into her ear. She roughly pats the brown-skinned woman on the cheek before giving it a playful peck. “Enjoy your trip to Gaia.”
Luke quickly gets between the two when Kira draws her weapon, his sabers deflecting the sickle. His other sword expertly disarms Sari, whose daggers bounce into the water. The young warrior sheaths his blades and takes the heiress by the shoulders, gently moving her to the gangplank of the Matriarch. When the gypsy attempts to follow, he whirls around and silently points to a nearby crate. She obeys when she sees feathers ruffle out from under his collar and an expression of looming rage on his face.
“Please get on your ship before this gets messy,” Luke begs the fuming Bor’darukian who is half-heartedly pushing against him. “You don’t want to make a scene or do anything that you can’t take back. Do it for me?”
“Only because we have to go, but know that I’m not happy with her,” Kira says, glaring at Sari over the warrior’s shoulder. A slew of curses is on the tip of her tongue when she sees the gypsy flash her a rude gesture. “Remember that you can always put an end to this by making a choice. I know you’re afraid to hurt both of us and breaking up with her before you fight the Baron would make things awkward. I fully understand that logic. Just think about what drawing this out is going to do to everyone involved. Oh and I will come after her if I find out she used a love spell on you. I’ll make her eat her own teeth if she manipulates you like that.”
“Can you not talk about violence?”
“I’m simply letting you know where we all stand.”
“You’re not helping yourself here.”
“I love you, Luke Callindor, and you love me.”
“I love him too!” Sari shouts from her perch. She wipes some sweat off her brow, the sun taking its toll on her heat-sensitive body. “And I’d never use magic to manipulate him. That wouldn’t be real, so it would eventually wear off and get me in trouble. Also, Nyx would kill me if I crossed that line.”
“Guess that’s a piece of good news,” Kira quietly says. She gives Luke a quick kiss on the cheek and backs up the gangplank, her eyes staying on the half-elf. “Good luck with your adventures and stay safe.”
Luke moves out of the way as the sailors retract the gangplank and the mooring lines are tossed off. The sound of the anchor lifting out of the ocean is joined by the grunting of the hardened sailors working the winch. He waves to Kira who stays at the railing even when the ship pulls away from the dock. Unable to stop himself, Luke uses his sound sight to see that she is starting to cry and her breathing is becoming ragged. Minutes pass before she is too far away for him to see or hear, the tears on his own face finally coming to his attention.
“I’m sorry, Luke. I really went too far this time and made a mess,” Sari claims as she puts a friendly hand on his arm. “I’ll behave myself until you’re feeling better. Even then, I’ll leave this in your hands.”
“Thanks and I’m sorry for pulling you into this,” the half-elf replies, taking a deep breath to calm down. A distant scream from the desert makes him turn around and he sees a faint light streaking over the towering city wall. “I think that star-like thing is coming towards us. Why can’t we ever catch a break?”
As it passes over the dock, the beam of light splits in half with a startling pop. One of the magical lances plunges into Luke’s forehead and the other does the same to Sari. There are no wounds, but the champions are paralyzed and their eyes roll back in their heads. Fearing an attack, all of the dockworkers hurry to their ships to raise the anchors and release the mooring lines. An alarm goes off and the dock detaches from the shore to float out to sea, carrying Luke and Sari away from Bor’daruk.
Unknown to everyone, a familiar voice is lecturing the two adventurers. “This is Aedyn Karwyn of the Duragian Order. This message is being sent . . . forget being calm. I cannot believe what you three have done! Do you have any idea how much trouble this stunt has caused! Not to mention how embarrassed I am. It is a challenge to leave from the temple to the castle to meet with Kellia. You even convinced Fizzle to go along with this? I do not know this Timoran Wrath or Delvin Cunningham or how you got your enemies involved in this mess, but this . . . I do not even know how to describe this situation. I might not be part of Isaiah’s organization any more, but you included me without asking for my permission. We demand that you return to Gods’ Voice right away and explain how you could have let this happen. End of message!”
“That was uncomfortable and confusing,” Sari groans when her mind clears. She wipes the drool from her mouth and frowns at the sight of being far away from shore. “I’m guessing Nyx was supposed to get that message too since he mentioned three of us. What do you think is going on?”
“Kira is going to be really mad at me,” Luke says with a tired sigh. “It looks like we’re going to God’s Voice now.”
2
Covered in dirt and exhausted from their lengthy journey to Gods’ Voice, the champions quietly sit around the circular table. The open windows let in a gentle breeze that eases their aching muscles and cools some of their flaring tempers. A wide balcony sits outside and allows the guests to see most of Serab’s capital city, but none of the adventurers show interest in enjoying the view. Several sparrows flutter around the windows, their nests having been made under the pitted eave. None of the champions pay the noisy birds any attention as they silently ponder the argument that has been repeated over the last few days. Goblets of fresh water remain untouched as nearly everyone shoots angry glances and muttered curses at Luke who is the cleanest out of the group. Sari is busy picking twigs out of her hair and flicks each one at the forest tracker. Fizzle is the only one with a smile on his face as he lounges in a bowl of green and yellow apples.
“Cross the southern mountains, pass through the forests, and cross over the L’dandrin River to get here,” Nyx finally says, her violet eyes flickering with flames. She ignores the pleading expression on Dariana’s face and continues to revive the debate. “Why did we listen to you, little brother? It might have taken longer to get here by boat, but it would have been easier. I know you hate water travel because of your seasickness, but Gods’ Voice has a lot of river traffic. We could have caught a ship from Freedom and not arrived looking like we spent the last week wrestling ogres in a mud pit. All that trouble to arrival quickly.”
“Actually, I think taking a boat would have been quicker,” Delvin points out with a jaw-straining yawn. The warrior examines his armor sleeve as he tries to buff the fresh dents out of the silver plates. “We were on the road for at least two weeks. You’re thinking of the time Luke said it would take, which I believe was a week.”
“My favorite part was the bramble patch we fell into,” Sari mentions, taking a deep drink of water. The dirt vanishes from her body when she mutters a spell, the sensation of clean skin helping her relax. “Then again, the trolls were a welcomed bout of excitement since Nyx was bathing out of earshot at the time. Not that she could have helped since those river nymphs decided to toy with her. Don’t even get me started on the avalanche caused by those screech hawks. My calves are still crying from running so hard and that was five days ago.”
“On the plus side, we got to work more as a team,” Dariana states, feebly trying to defend Luke. She curls against her chair when Nyx and Sari turn their angry thoughts on
her. “Then again, I’m still shrugging off the dark dreams from that necrocaster. He was a very strange and disturbing man. I think he wanted to breed with all of us. I don’t mean just the women, but the men and Fizzle too. Is that even possible?”
Timoran clears his throat, coughing up a glob of phlegm that he swallows to avoid disgusting his friends. “We could spend all day going over the utter disaster of our journey. One could easily laugh about the great champions of Windemere stumbling through the wilderness like amateur adventurers. Perhaps it is best that we leave these events in the past and agree not to talk about them. After all, we are all to blame to some extent.”
“Fizzle said to use portal from Helgard,” the drite interjects, apple juice dripping from his lips. He rolls onto his back and stretches his purple-scaled body, enticing Nyx to scratch his smooth belly. “Could go from Helgard to Garden then stay in forests. Mountains too bad. Why we no take portal?”
“Because somebody was scared,” Luke bitterly says, causing everyone to look at Timoran.
“I said you could blindfold me if you all wished to take that path,” the barbarian argues, crossing his arms over his chest. “I have become calmer about being around magic, but transportation portals are . . . unnerving. That still did not mean we had to traverse the southern wilds.”
“So . . . both of you are idiots,” Nyx bluntly states.
The double doors open with a slight creak, drawing the champions’ attention to the far side of the room. Aedyn Karwyn looks better than the last time his old friends saw him, the half-elf’s black hair cut short and neat. His pristine yellow robe, adorned with the blazing sun symbol of Durag, covers his mechanical legs, but his joints makes a soft click with every heavy step. If he lifts his foot high enough, his guests can catch a quick glimpse of metal feet with pipes attaching them to finely crafted ankles and shins. The expression on Aedyn’s face is a mix of anger and happiness, which creates a strange scowl along with a mild smile. The overall effect is a scrunched face that returns to its stoic calm when his more elegant companion gently elbows him in the ribs.
Kellia Solomon, heir to the Serabian throne, looks nothing like the gruff tomboy that Luke met over a year ago at Hamilton Military Academy. She still has the toned physique of a warrior, which tells her former sparring partner that the young woman still finds plenty of time to practice. She is also wearing glossy lipstick and her nails are painted a bright pink, which reveals she has taken advantage of being back among the noble class. Kellia’s hair is no longer black, but a golden brown that seems out of place to those who knew her before today. Combined with the blue gown and dark red slippers, it takes her old friends a few seconds to believe that they are not staring at a doppelganger. Even with the future ruler’s new look and the sight of Aedyn walking again, it is the fact that the pair are holding hands that gets the biggest reaction from Luke and Nyx.
“It’s an honor to meet you, your highness,” Delvin states, getting up to bow before the young woman. Timoran and Dariana follow his example, preferring to remain silent due to the mysterious tension in the room. “My name is Delvin Cunningham. This is Timoran Wrath of the Snow Tiger Tribe and our newest ally Dariana. You probably haven’t heard any stories of her yet, but rest assured that she is a trustworthy person.”
“Just spit it out already, guys,” Sari whispers to Luke and Nyx before going to give Aedyn a careful hug. “It’s so good to see you standing. I know we didn’t spend much time together, but I’ve never forgotten what you sacrificed for us. How are you doing with your new legs? Are they easy to use?”
“Rather simple ever since the final adjustments were completed a month ago. We found a way to connect them to the working nerves and aura,” the blue-eyed priest replies with a warm smile. He lifts his robes enough to show the polished metal limbs that are in place of his missing legs. “I know you are being patient, Fizzle. I can see you are ready to pounce from behind the apples. I commend you for being patient.”
“Aedyn!” the drite shrieks as he darts at his old friend. Fizzle nearly knocks Sari out of the way as he tackles the priest, his tail whacking her on the head. “Fizzle miss Aedyn. Sad when he not there on awakening. Sadder when hear of legs. Happy when hear of new legs. Happier now when we say hi again. Aedyn happy too?”
“I am very happy to see you again, Fizzle,” Lord Karwyn admits, patting the drite on the head. He notices that the other half-elves are still at the far side of the table, staring with their mouths open. “As Sari said, spit it out.”
Nyx gingerly steps forward, her eyes still on the clasped hands of their hosts. “Are you two . . . together? I mean together together.”
“Engaged as of two weeks ago,” Kellia sweetly replies as she releases Aedyn and takes Nyx by the hands. She raises her right ring finger to show off a band of gold with a yellow, sun-shaped diamond on the top. “It’s definitely something I didn’t expect to happen so soon. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it since it’s been big news in Serab.”
“We have been in Bor’daruk and the surrounding desert for the last few months,” Timoran interjects, saluting the young noblewoman with his sheathed axe. “Congratulations on your engagement. I hope you two have a happy and healthy life together.”
“How? Why? I . . . I don’t get it. Have you really mellowed enough to get along with someone like Aedyn?” Luke asks, his words rapidly sputtering out of his mouth. The crack of Kellia’s fist striking the half-elf’s nose echoes throughout the room. “Guess you haven’t really changed, your highness. Am I able to ask your . . . fiancée for a healing spell or is he still angry at me for something I probably didn’t do on purpose?”
Kellia coyly examines her ring, putting it in her old classmate’s face. “I don’t know. What do you think, dear?”
“I do not know, Callindor. You have yet to shake my hand, say hello, or greet me in any way,” Aedyn replies as Sari and Fizzle let him go. The priest and the forest tracker clasp each other’s hands and give a back-slapping hug, which delivers the healing spell. “It is good to see you and I apologize for the tone of my message. These . . . things have me very concerned and upset. I do not know where they came from since I have been helping Duke Solomon with political issues to the east. Kellia and I went into the marketplace one day and were surprised to see people with them. That is not even the strangest part.”
“Excuse me, Lord Karwyn,” Dariana interrupts when she senses the confusion of her friends. Blushing at having everyone’s attention, she inches closer to Timoran to feel a sense of comfort. “I’m sorry for scanning your thoughts with my powers, but it appears that these . . . dolls have not reached Bor’daruk yet. We traveled through the wilderness, so we are still in the dark. Please show us what you’re hiding within your right sleeve. Again, I apologize for overstepping my boundaries, but I feel the discussion will move quicker if we could see this object.”
Aedyn cautiously watches the silver-haired woman as he reveals a figurine made of glossy material. The realistic black hair runs to the shoulders of the tiny doll that has been dressed in the robe of a Duragian priest. A wooden staff is clenched in its permanently curved hand, the arm able to be moved up and down. With a muttered curse, Aedyn turns the doll over and shows that the legs detach at the knee. Reaching into another pocket, he pulls out two pieces of the strange material that have been molded to look like his metallic limbs. They easily snap onto the figurine, which he tosses to Luke for a closer inspection.
“Is this you?” the forest tracker asks, amazed at the detail of the toy. The pain on his friend’s face is the only answer he needs. “I had nothing to do with this. Why would somebody make a doll of you? No offense, but I don’t know of anything you’ve done to have something like this happen. I’d think famous nobles and warriors would be subjected to whatever this is. It reminds me of those story scrolls that were popular when I was a kid. I never got into collecting them, but Alyssa Goldheart was determined to get them all. She never figured out what to do after sh
e got a full set.”
“Funny how you think it’s only Aedyn involved in this,” Kellia says with a laugh. She takes another figurine out of a pouch on her waist, wiggling the female doll next to her face to show the resemblance. “It has my former hair color and doesn’t have any interesting tricks like most of the others. I wasn’t even given a real weapon. This thing comes with the arm of a statue, which I guess is supposed to be what my doppelganger used against the goblins in Hero’s Gate. Anyway, it’s nice to hear that none of you knew about this. We were more annoyed at the idea that our friends used our images without our permission, especially considering the aftermath.”
“Others,” Delvin anxiously repeats, his mind stuck on the one word.
“Does anyone else hear a loud roar from outside?” Timoran asks as he walks to the balcony.
“I guess the news of your arrival has spread,” Aedyn replies while he joins the stunned barbarian. He is already preparing a subtle barrier spell as the worst case scenario appears in his mind. “With the exception of Dariana, each of you has at least one figurine. Even the Lich, Queen Trinity, and Nimby are available. They are being sold to children in all of the big cities of Serab, but adults are getting into the fad because of the stories behind them. Many of your adventures are now public knowledge and your fame is on the rise. I fear this will impede your progress, but I have not heard back from Isaiah. Not that I expect him to interact with one who has retired from his organization.”
Nyx hurries to the balcony railing and is startled by the roar of applause that meets her appearance. “By the gods, that’s a lot of people.”
From their high vantage point, the champions can see over the castle wall where a large crowd has gathered on the other side of the moat. The sound of guards yelling for order can barely be heard over the people cheering at the sight of the famous adventurers, many of the citizens waving figurines over their heads. Excited children hold up soft dolls of Fizzle that puff out harmless rainbow mist with every squeeze. A few people point at the heroes and try their best to throw their figurines over the castle wall, the toys falling into the moat to the despair of the star struck owners. Several of the citizens are dressed as their favorite champion and there are a few women who have dyed their bodies to resemble the cobalt skin of Queen Trinity. There is even one person covered in a foul-smelling cloak, his hands and face painted to resemble exposed bone like that of the Lich. The only thing that the champions and their friends can do is stare in wonder and fear of the ecstatic mob.
The Merchant of Nevra Coil (Legends of Windemere Book 8) Page 5
