“Luke ask if you find all you need.”
“I was hoping to talk to a few more people, but this stunt is going to force us to leave.”
“No hide in castle?”
“The longer we’re in this city, the harder it’s going to be to escape.”
The crowd roars with applause as Sari creates an enormous bird out of the moat water and has it soar over the city. People can see the famous sharks of Solomon Castle swimming in the magical construct, but they slowly gather in the center of the construct. Not wanting to traumatize the beasts, they are gently returned to the moat along with enough water to keep them alive. After having the bird make a few more passes over the crowd, Sari has it explode into a warm rain with multiple rainbows appearing in the sky. The gypsy spins and dances around the stage, returns the water to the moat before it can drench the audience. A chant for Nyx to use her magic rises from the citizens and the half-elf timidly steps forward. She glances at Sari, but only Dariana knows it is because she is not comfortable with the situation. Everyone else goes silent as if the movement is a signal that she is preparing something big and exciting. The caster holds up her hands to cast a spell, carefully imagining a flashy enchantment that will not pose a risk to the audience or drive them into a panic.
“Please don’t do it, Nyx,” Dariana whispers. A familiar presence appears in her mind, the newcomer churning with powerful emotions as he rapidly approaches the city. “Oh no. Anyone, but him. Please, Gabriel, call your dog off and don’t make me face him now. I’ll do anything you want if you call him away.”
Thunder rumbles overhead and lightning flashes across the cloudless sky. At first, the crowd thinks Nyx is behind the strange weather and enjoy the magical display. The applause turns into screams of surprise when a cold rain drenches the mob, which forces Dariana to use her powers on them. Straining her mind, she stops the citizens of Gods’ Voice from stampeding and urges them to calmly return to their homes until the weather improves. It is a struggle to direct so many people and the pressure makes her ears bleed steadily onto her neck and shoulders. She hugs the soot-covered chimney to stay on her feet and glances at the drawbridge, a bulky form making her heart leap into her throat.
Isaiah stands before the champions and disintegrates the dais with an intricate wave of his red wood staff. The green crystal that sits atop the powerful weapon glows as the black-scaled fireskin calmly walks across the lowered drawbridge. Making sure that Sari remains in the lead, the champions follow the red-robed figure like a pack of scolded children. Only Isaiah senses Dariana appearing on the wooden pathway, the silver-haired woman nearly collapsing from using her powers on the entire crowd. He does nothing to help her or let anyone know she is there before signaling for the soldiers to raise the drawbridge.
*****
“What in the name of every god were you thinking?” Isaiah asks once he gets some control of his temper. “That was irresponsible and could have made this situation worse. I always knew you were stupid, but-”
Nyx cuts the fireskin off with a crackle of lightning along the ceiling, the energy igniting every candle in the silver chandelier. “Leave her alone and watch your mouth! We may have made a mistake, but you’ve no right to insult her. Besides, where were you when we were in Bor’daruk? Every other time we’ve had to find and challenge a temple, you appear with some advice. You abandoned us while Stephen decimated the Grasdons and two of us were lost in the desert. Now you’re back with only a vague explanation from Gabriel about your absence and you begin screaming? Dariana wasn’t even part of our plan. She was in the city, so back off and yell at the rest of us.”
“Specifically me because I’m the one who came up with the idea to tell fake stories about our adventures,” Sari announces as she steps in front of Dariana. “I’m willing to take all the blame for whatever damage I caused. Just stop yelling at my friend.”
Isaiah slumps in his chair and scans the collection of angry faces that surround him. The caster is not sure when Luke drew his sabers, but it is clear that the forest tracker is more furious than the others. The thought that they have accepted their new ally so quickly causes a laugh to get caught in the fireskin’s throat. Ignoring the piercing gaze of the blonde half-elf, Isaiah turns his attention to Dariana who is quietly standing in the middle of the room. She continues to stare at her feet even though Sari and Nyx are flanking her, each one putting a hand on the tired woman’s shoulder. The sight of the long-lived champion annoys the caster, but the protective nature of the others keeps him at bay.
“The event on the drawbridge was a disaster. I’ve already sent a message to Duke Solomon about what his daughter allowed to happen, so he is on his way home from his vacation in Darkmill,” Isaiah explains while he taps his talons on the table. He lets his words sink in, hoping his charges realize that they got their old friend in trouble. “My concern with Dariana is that she is a potential threat due to her powers and lineage. She should not be allowed to wander a large city without another champion present. The temptation to use her abilities on a grand scale might be too much. Do you want another incident like all those centuries ago? What was the name of that city? Ardan? Wiped off the map and out of the memories of the world.”
“I live with that pain, so you do not have to remind me,” Dariana whispers, her body shuddering from the anguish in her mind. “Stephen provoked me to see what I would do and I lost control. That will not happen again.”
“If it does then I’ll be the one to put you back to sleep.”
“I understand. Excuse me,” she replies before disappearing from between her protective friends.
Nyx puts her hand in the area that Dariana once stood, expecting to touch an invisible figure, but only feeling empty space. “She can teleport? Flawlessly teleport? I’m going to find her and see if she’s okay. Let me know what we decide, guys.”
“I’m going with you, Nyx,” Luke declares as he sheathes his blades.
“The woman doesn’t need both of you,” Isaiah coldly points out.
The fireskin is knocked out of his chair by the warrior’s fist striking his jaw, a burst of wind giving the blow some extra force. For a brief moment, everyone thinks the half-elf is about to draw his sabers again and continue the assault. Instead, Luke bares sharp, dog-like teeth and growls at the bulky caster while backing toward the door. He transforms into the furry form of Stiletto and sniffs at the air, leading Nyx in search of their upset friend.
“I assume that is for me disappearing for several months. The immature part of him must blame me for what happened to the Grasdons,” Isaiah states, resetting his toppled chair and sitting down. He spits out three broken teeth while his pink, punctured tongue rubs the bleeding gaps. “I apologize for my absence, but Gabriel had me on a special mission that proved to be unsuccessful. I agree that if I was around then these dolls and the murder of the Grasdons would not have been so severe. They still would have happened to some extent. Now, why did you try to stoke the flames of the citizens?”
“I told Gabriel what I was going to do. Well, he only stayed around for me saying that we need to create misinformation,” Sari explains as she takes a seat between Aedyn and Delvin. Her voice is hoarse and dry from playing to the crowd, so she summons a flock of water orbs from a pitcher to drift into her mouth. “Originally, I thought I would slip the stories into the populace and help people latch onto them for a day or two. Then I realized how such tales could get mistaken for rumors and be ignored, which meant the entire plan could fail without me realizing it. So I talked to Kellia about holding an event where the champions tell their story.”
“In Sari’s defense, we all could have stopped her at any point,” Aedyn states, putting a hand on the gypsy’s shoulder. The priest crosses his ankles, the creak of his metal joints causing his former superior to wince. “We did not believe news of the event would spread so quickly, so it was bigger than expected. That is why Kellia is busy with the merchants and other people whose days were disrupted.
Though the mess could have been a lot worse if the citizens attempted to charge the dais.”
“We plan on leaving Gods’ Voice immediately to avoid further trouble,” Timoran announces before Isaiah can speak. “Under the cover of darkness, we can sneak through the city and begin our journey to Everthorne. By morning, this will have blown over and the citizens will get back to their lives.”
Fizzle bursts through the window and hooks a table leg with his tail to slow down. The piece of furniture scrapes against the stone floor, eventually flipping over and pinning the drite against the far wall. Delvin rushes to help the excited dragon escape while Timoran puts the table back where it belongs. He goes about cleaning up the scattered pieces of fruit and broken glassware until Aedyn taps his arm. The priest casts a spell that cleans the floor and places all of the damaged items into a nearby bin.
“Bad news!” Fizzle shouts, fluttering into the air and zipping around his friends. “People make camp! Outside bridge! No way out! They make guards to watch! One almost see Fizzle even when invisible! People ready! We trapped!”
“Calm down, Fizzle,” Sari coos while she pats her lap for him to land. She hugs the drite and strokes the blunted horns on his head before kissing him on the scaly cheek. “I guess they’re expecting me to use illusions. I can put together some disguises, but these people are going to be curious about anyone who leaves the castle. Do you think Dariana can blind them to us until we get out of the city?”
“I would not trust her,” Isaiah states, reminding everyone that he is still there. “This is exactly what Gabriel wanted you to avoid. These dolls are only a nuisance and you should have left as soon as you uncovered their origin point.”
“We were exhausted and needed a good night’s sleep,” Delvin says as he paces around the room. Stroking his stubbled chin, he walks a strange, winding circuit around the wooden furniture. “I don’t think we should put such a strain on Dariana. We’ll have to keep moving once we get out of the city, so we need her to be conscious and able to run. Illusions and complicated disguises are out because people are ready for those. Besides, Timoran is too big to hide beneath wigs and new clothes. Being a group of seven, we shouldn’t move together. Splitting up and meeting at an agreed upon place is our best option.”
“Fizzle agree. Dariana no known and Luke have doggy form. Not sure about others. Fizzle fly high and escape.”
Isaiah clears his throat for attention and waves his staff over the table. The polished wood warps and rises to create a detailed replica of Gods’ Voice, the landscape going as far as the tree line of the nearby forest. He gestures for the champions to gather around the display, but Sari remains on the couch with Fizzle. She gestures for her friends to give her a clear view of the replica and points at the comfortable drite to explain why she refuses to move. The adventurers watch as a shining door appears above the L’dandrin River, which runs along the southeastern side of the city. The slow-moving water laps at the edge of the table and occasionally churns as if an invisible vessel has passed through the area.
“I can create a transport portal out of moonlight. It will take you to a lake that is a day’s journey to the northwest,” Isaiah states, illuminating a few routes to the docks. They merge at a long pier and make a jump to the hovering door. “The problem is that I will have to put it over the water to avoid others from passing through. This means far enough away that only those with magic or other special abilities can reach it. I suggest having Fizzle go there first to defend the portal from any casters that are within the crowd.”
“That implies we will be chased,” Timoran claims, frowning at the doorway. He can already feel his skin crawling and takes a quick sip from his flask to relax. “I guess this is where I jump off the cliff and pray I land safely.”
“Does that actually happen with your people?” Sari asks from her couch.
“Only in the winter when the snow is deep and we never leap from the high cliffs.”
Delvin gently moves the barbarian away from the table to get a better look at the glowing routes. Leaning over the display, the tip of the warrior’s tongue is sticking out of his mouth as he runs his finger along the wood. He circles the table and examines every route, his ice blue eyes burning with intense thought. Glancing at the open doors to the balcony, he hurries to leap onto the railing and get a clear view of the real city. The crowd cheers for him, but the noise stops when they realize he is not going to do anything interesting. He waves to the people for another round of mild applause before disappearing back into the room.
“We leave in groups of two with one person being responsible for the jump and the other focusing on masking our presence,” Delvin says as he returns to the table and squats for a street level view. “Timoran will go with Nyx because her presence might make it easier for him to handle teleporting. I’m sure he can make the leap with her added weight and she can cloak both of you with a spell. Sari will go with Dariana and use her water magic to reach the portal. I’ll go with Luke who can travel as Stiletto and turn into the griffin at the dock. We’ll take the more dangerous route since we’ll be the least recognizable. Now we only need a diversion to get us out of the castle.”
“I believe I can help with that,” Aedyn declares, an uncharacteristic grin on his face. “Is there a specific deity that stands against the champions? Never mind. It is probably best that I do this without your involvement.”
“That is a bad idea, Lord Karwyn,” Isaiah argues, jumping to his feet so quickly that his tail gets stuck under the arm of his chair. With a few steps, he frees himself from the furniture, which falls with a loud clatter. “I forbid you from doing what you are about to do.”
“I am not in the order anymore, so you cannot stop me, sir,” the priest replies as he heads for the door. “The Ymir priests owe me a favor, so you can leave through one of the side doors when they start their show. Nothing like a fury priest on a rant to divert attention.”
Isaiah curses under his breath and bangs his staff against the floor, opening a crack that he drops through. The champions stare at the shadowy gap and the transformed table, none of them knowing how to repair the damage.
*****
“I can hear your thoughts, so you don’t have to be quiet,” Dariana announces from the back of the wine cellar.
The click of the door being unlocked echoes throughout the small, cool room followed by the sniffing of a dog. Nyx is the first to appear from around the corner of a tall cabinet and she waits for Luke to finish transforming. The two half-elves stay within view of the woman who is holding an opened bottle of wine in her lap. With their friend refusing to move away from the wall, the pair cautiously approach and take a seat in front of her.
“I thought you didn’t drink,” Nyx says as she leans against an empty rack.
“I don’t, but I enjoy the smell,” Dariana replies with a half-hearted smirk. She offers the bottle to her friends, surprised at how quickly Luke accepts. “Why are you upset?”
“Let’s just say Isaiah is not one of my favorite people right now,” the forest tracker answers, taking a deep drink from the bottle. He winces and chokes on the foul-tasting liquid before tossing the bottle to Nyx. “That stuff is practically vinegar. I think I’m going to be sick. I can’t believe you enjoy the smell of bad wine.”
“Actually, it’s a Lorvisian brew that smells sweet and tastes bitter.”
“Why did you offer it to me?”
“I never drink, so I didn’t know how bad it really was.”
“That’s not a good reason.”
“I’m sorry.”
Nyx’s sudden hacking and coughing stops the argument. She is dramatically holding her stomach while curled on her side and gagging like her tongue is trying to escape her mouth. The bottle has rolled across the floor, leaving a trail of wine that fills the chamber with a sweet stench. Luke kneels next to his groaning friend while Dariana puts the cork back in the container and returns it to a dusty shelf in the back. With a disgusting n
oise, Nyx vomits fiery aura that leaves a scorch mark on the gray stone. Her friends scramble away from the dangerous ooze, which slowly evaporates into smoke.
“I probably should have mentioned that channelers are allergic to this wine,” Dariana timidly says, helping the half-elf stand. “I’m sorry. It isn’t a warning that ever came up before. I wonder if Casandra knows about this and forgot to tell you. At least you’re rejecting the wine instead of going into shock.”
“Why did you try it after you saw my reaction?” Luke asks as he tries not to laugh.
“I thought you were overreacting and I was curious,” Nyx replies before spitting out the last of the gunk in her throat. “So you can flawlessly teleport, Dariana?”
Luke pinches the channeler in the side before leaning away from the expertly thrown backhand aimed at his head. “Looks like Timoran’s boxing and wrestling lessons are going well for you, big sister. I thought we came here to see how she’s doing and cheer her up. Don’t interrogate her.”
“That’s why we’re being silly, little brother,” Nyx states, gently patting the warrior on the cheek. She takes a few shaky steps on her own and leans against a cabinet full of white wines, the sight of them making her queasy. “I figure you will tell us about your history with Isaiah when you’re ready, Dariana. You already mentioned how the previous champions treated you, so it isn’t too surprising that you and he have a messy history. The only thing we can do is be your friends and help prove to everyone that you’re not like your family. At least Stephen and the Baron. I don’t want to insult Zaria by insinuating that she’s a terrible role model. She isn’t listening to us, is she?”
“I don’t know. She does seem to always know what’s going on even if she doesn’t make an appearance,” the other woman admits. Turning to Luke, she puts her hands on the side of his head. “If you really want to know then I can share the stories with you. It will be easier this way and I promise not to peek into your mind.”
The Merchant of Nevra Coil (Legends of Windemere Book 8) Page 8
