The Merchant of Nevra Coil (Legends of Windemere Book 8)

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “Fizzle have apples!” the drite shouts from the rafters.

  The others gradually give their orders, everyone staring at Nyx in surprise when she requests an expensive lobster. It takes a few extra minutes to help Dariana decide on her meal, it being centuries since she has had seafood. By the time they finish, the champions have put their gear on the hooks found around the room and left their boots below the open window. The young calico continues to stand expectantly in the doorway, clutching the menus to her chest. Sari notices the growing disappointment on Jani’s face and snatches a diamond sphere out of Timoran’s pocket. She flips the sparkling orb to the girl who catches it and stares at it with wonder in her amber eyes. The calico starts to hand the money back to the gypsy, but she pauses when she realizes everyone is staring at her.

  “You’ve never seen one of those before?” Luke asks, hiding his surprise.

  “I’ve seen plenty of them, sir,” Jani answers, blushing at the blunt question. The black tufts of hair on her ears flick while her matching tail wraps around her leg. “I . . . I’ve never had one of my own before. I get paid in silver, room, and board like most guides. Diamond spheres are special. I don’t even know what to do with it.”

  “Save it or spend it,” Sari says before giving the stunned calico a hug. “Just remember that it’s your money and nobody can tell you what to do with it.”

  “Thank you so much,” the girl whispers as a few tears roll onto her whiskers. Her eyes fall on the table where seven boxes have been placed. “I almost forgot. The Pillars sent a gift for each of you. They were chosen after speaking with Lady Kellia. Some of our leaders saw which of us became your guide and sent these ahead. I hope all of you like them.”

  The girl smiles and backs out of the room as the tired champions take their place around the table. Every box has a name written in a messy scrawl alongside crude pictures that make them think kids put the presents together. Inside each one they find a figurine, revealing that Kellia told the Pillars that they did not have their own. Dariana is the only one who is truly surprised and happy when she pulls a soft doll out of her box. The straw-like hair has been painted silver and it has a wide smile beneath ivory button eyes. Blue clothes have been colored onto its white body, but only on the front. The stitching along the toy’s sides is fragile and a puff of stuffing is already sticking out of the left foot, so she gently places the gift back in the box.

  “I wish I got something like that,” Nyx admits, placing her figurine on the table. Noticing that Sari is playing with her replica, the half-elf slides her present to the gypsy. “You can have mine since you’re enjoying these more than the rest of us. Do we have a plan for when we meet the Pillars?”

  “Ask if they know where the toys come from,” Timoran casually replies as he pushes his figurine to Sari. He yawns and scratches his arms, the skin still irritated from when he attempted to travel through the briar forest without protection. “After that we either get directions or wander around the city in search of information. Though it might be easiest to let Sari handle that.”

  “I have a feeling we’re going to get what we want,” Delvin claims, putting his bare feet on the table. A hand of force shoves his legs to the side and he looks across the table to where Nyx is staring at the ceiling. “The Pillars gave us copies of the toys and we saw people treating us with respect instead of pouncing like a pack of wolves. It’s an entirely different atmosphere than what we’ve dealt with so far. I can’t believe the smaller villages were similar to Gods’ Voice. One would think these toys have an enchantment on them with the way people have been acting towards us.”

  “Even I couldn’t move around the last town without getting mobbed,” Dariana softly says, shuddering at the memory. A tickling sensation runs along her skin as if unfamiliar hands are touching her. “I suggest we stock up on supplies before we leave Everthorne. We might not find another place like this when we set out again. What are complimentary fried tentacles? They sound disgusting, but the chefs are proud of the recipe.”

  “Has the world really changed that much?” Nyx asks while she watches Sari go to the window. The gypsy takes a deep breath of the salty air, a shudder in her back betraying he attempt to avoid laughing. “It’s rather easy to figure out, but I guess they didn’t have it in your . . . younger days. Fried tentacle is the cute name that the wait staff gives to fried squid. An apprentice I trained with did some waitressing for extra money and told me some of the sillier terms. Give it a try and don’t complain if you hate it. Unless you whine with your mind, which is an option for someone with telepathy.”

  There is a rapid knock at the door and Fizzle swoops down to open it with his tail. Four waiters walk in with trays of food expertly balanced on their callused hands. Timoran catches the drite before he can dive into the bowl of apples, letting go only after the entire meal is placed on the table. Nyx and Delvin hand out gold coins to the waiters, apologizing for not having enough diamond spheres to split among them. Dariana is already filling her mouth with fried squid by the time her friends return to their chairs. The telepath sheepishly pushes the plate to the middle of the table, but snatches three more pieces before turning to her fish. Nyx stops when she notices Sari is still in the window, the gypsy lazily dangling her leg over the railing.

  “Food is here, little sister,” the half-elf whispers as she places a gentle hand on her friend’s arm. Hearing the silence at the table, she signals over her shoulder for the others to keep eating. “Are you okay? You were fine a few minutes ago.”

  “I’m tired,” Sari mutters in a dreamy voice. “Do you think I’ll ever be like them?”

  “Like who?”

  “Like the merfolk out there.”

  Nyx squints and enhances her eyesight to see men and women with sea foam hair splashing in the ocean. Dolphin-like tails break the watery surface whenever one of the creatures dives for seaweed and fish. Several are tanning on the rocks, the men sprawled on their front because of their rigid dorsal fins. A few pups can be seen playing with a ball that they throw back and forth with a group of calico children on the docks.

  “They’re so peaceful and happy,” Sari says with a deep sigh. She reaches out to the sea, but her power is not strong enough to influence it from so far away. “I remember being with my family and playing like that. It feels like a lifetime ago and some days I don’t think I’ll ever get it back. Not with all of our fighting, suffering, and death always looming over our heads. You know, Nyxie, there are days where I hope I’m the one to die against the Baron. Just let me take him down with me and I won’t have to live knowing one of the few people I hold in my heart is gone. Do you think I’m stupid?”

  “Yes because you owe me a lifetime of headaches,” Nyx replies, easing the gypsy out of the window. She hugs the blue-haired woman tightly and rubs her back. “I’d hate to turn to necromancy to make sure you hold to your promises. Now stop worrying and eat with your family.”

  “I’ll wait for dessert, mom.”

  “I can launch you into the ocean if you really want to be like the merfolk.”

  “Smart move to threaten the naiad-blooded girl with water.”

  “Naked.”

  “Still not a threat.”

  “Bald.”

  “Stop hogging the squid, Dariana!”

  *****

  Standing in the middle of the stony room, the champions feel less like honored guests and more like prisoners. The air is smoky due to blaring torches set high on the rounded walls and the ceiling vents being only moderately effective. Appearing on a raised dais that runs around the circular chamber, the Pillars sit in simple chairs of gnarled wood. Each of the twenty-three council members is dressed in black robes and bronze gloves that help hide any discernable traits. Every Pillar has a unique mask to help them reference each other during conversations or when reviewing notes from previous meetings. The scribbling of a quill can be heard, but there is nobody else in the room besides the champions and their hosts.

/>   “We hope you have enjoyed your meal and accommodations,” says a star-masked Pillar in a child-like voice. “It has come to our attention that you are curious about the figurines that pass through our city. Is this correct?”

  “Yes, sir,” Delvin replies, stepping forward and bowing. He can hear a muffled complaint to his right and notices one of the members shift in their chair. “We are looking for the source of these toys. Our path has lead us to Everthorne, but it does not appear that they are made here. So I guess we are still in need of answers.”

  “What will you do when you find the factory?” asks a baritone voice from behind a green and white mask. The slender figure’s tone exposes their concern and the others become visibly tense. “It would be wrong for us to reveal the source without knowing your goals. That is bad business and could be met with retaliation. Even worse, we could lose the income that we get from this merchandise.”

  “That makes this a little awkward,” Sari whispers to the others. Flashing her brightest smile, the gypsy puts her arms behind her back and clears her throat. “We’ve had some problems with these dolls and need to talk to the creators. You see, we were mobbed in Gods’ Voice and a few of the nearby villages. This makes it hard to continue our adventures and puts people in danger if they try to follow us.”

  “There’s a few design issues that we want to discuss too,” Nyx politely adds, hoping to dissuade any fear of them attacking the factory.

  “Fizzle too squishy,” the drite declares to the chuckles of a few politicians.

  A burly Pillar stands and addresses the adventurers with a musical voice that contrasts with the grinning goblin mask. “I don’t like where this is going. Please be honest with us and tell us your intentions. Do you wish to shut the factory down?”

  “If we have to,” Timoran answers while his hand goes to his great axe. “There is much at stake here and these toys have caused us trouble. We need them under control.”

  “I was really hoping we’d get further in our negotiation before angering our hosts,” Delvin mutters as the Pillars repeatedly stomp their feet. “Everyone listen to me. Please don’t draw any weapons or show any magic because that will make this a bigger mess. Stay visible, Fizzle, since disappearing might make them nervous.”

  The drite lands on the floor and stretches out his entire body. “Fizzle be ready to fly for help. Nobody catch Fizzle.”

  “I thought upfront honesty would be better,” the barbarian replies, lifting his hands over his head in a show of peace. “I did not expect them to take it this poorly. Then again, their guards appear to be slow to react. We could have attacked or escaped by now.”

  “Their stomping activated a defensive barrier, so the guards can take their time,” Nyx mentions, her eyes a shimmering gold. She fights the temptation to pull at the strings of the flimsy shield spell, the central cord dangling within a few inches of her face. “I don’t know whether these guys are cocky or inept. Do your local casters and guards not care about their jobs?”

  The doors burst open and a squad of heavily armored warriors march into the room. Behind the knights are several agile archers that leap onto camouflaged ledges, their longbows swiftly trained on the adventurers. Taking up the rear of the spear-wielding soldiers is a stone-faced woman dressed in polished leather. A boney glove is on her hand, which is gripping an enchanted chain that swings violently behind her. Nyx’s face turns pale when the white-haired calico drags a Krypter into the room, the black and red creature screeching in fury. Its eyeless face turns to the channeler and it greedily licks its lips while hopping on its clawed feet. A burst of magic runs down the chain to shock the undead monster into submission.

  “You have a minute to explain what that thing is doing here,” Nyx announces, fire covering her arm. The Krypter pulls at the unbreakable chain, but calms down when Timoran steps between it and the half-elf. “I’m guessing you know my connection to this thing, so you better have a good reason for bringing it into the same room as me. I’ll take down this entire fortress for an answer.”

  “We know our barrier is nothing to you, so the Krypter is a regrettable deterrent,” a skull-masked Pillar states in a gravelly voice. “Our sources say that a handful of survivors went south to the jungles and desert, but a few have ended up on the black market. We confiscated this one and were about to destroy it until we learned of your visit. Many of us fear you and your friends will attempt to shut down the factory of Nevra Coil. We can’t have that because they can provide our economy with the stability it has needed for so long.”

  “Bunch of paranoid jerks,” Luke says, his senses trained on the archers. “We’re not going to get anywhere with that thing here.”

  “The Krypter stays until you agree to a few terms,” the star-masked Pillar declares while steepling its fingers. “You can’t blame us for trying to protect our interests.”

  With a terrifying screech, the creature arches backwards and claws at the floor. One of its arms falls off like that of a doll whose shoulder stitching has been effortlessly undone. The Krypter’s right leg splits at the knee while its lower jaw drops into its throat. Pieces meticulously separate from the monster, turning it into a pile of twitching parts that slowly melt into a puddle of foul-smelling ooze.

  “I think your guards should leave so we can discuss things like adults,” Dariana announces while cracking her knuckles. She lets out a nervous whistle between her pursed lips when everyone looks at her. “Please send your men away and lower your barrier. Otherwise, I will share your identities with each other and the populace. You must have heard of my powers, so you know this is something I can do. I doubt I will have any guilt after you threatened my friend with a creature specifically designed to devour her. Do you wish to rebuild your entire political system or are you ready to negotiate?”

  “When did you get so brave?” Nyx asks in surprise.

  “I’m siphoning some of your defiance. Sorry.”

  Without hesitation, the Pillars stomp their feet and the guards cautiously return to their posts throughout the fortress. The doors are left open a crack and the shadow of a remaining soldier blocks part of the light. A distortion shimmers in front of the council as the barrier spell returns to its dormant state within the dais.

  “Now we don’t want to cause any problems for you. At least any more than we already have,” Delvin begins to explain while walking around the room. He does his best to make eye contact with the Pillars, switching to whoever he is passing. “But you have to understand that these toys have made it impossible for us to enter cities. Everthorne is the first place we’ve been to where we can walk around the streets and not be mobbed. Our . . . lives require that we continue traveling, so we need to put that first. I’m sorry, but we can’t let this continue. At least not in the way that it is now.”

  “The figurines have brought a boon to our economy,” claims a weeping Pillar even though the sword-masked form is not crying. “We have lived on the edge of ruin and being used as a departure station for Nevra Coil has started to draw us out of the hole. In return for our help, we ask that you do us a favor. Do you agree?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Sari happily replies, relieved that the tension in the room has dissipated. “Name your price and we’ll see what we can do.”

  “Please be aware that we’re adventurers, so we may be severely limited in what we can demand from the creators,” Nyx swiftly adds, worried that they will request something impossible. She meets the disapproving glare of Sari with a gentle elbow to the gypsy’s ribs. “I don’t want to make this situation worse, little sister. We can’t agree to something that is beyond our grasp. We’re in enough trouble already and we might have to come back through Everthorne to continue our travels. I’d rather not have to sneak or run through town with an angry mob on my heels. Having an entire city hate me is not something I want to deal with again.”

  “You’re no fun when you’re worried,” Luke teases, laughing alongside Sari. The pair stop when they fe
el their hosts staring at them. “Sorry. Some of us joke and get into childish fights when we’re nervous.”

  The torches dim and cloak the Pillars in thick shadows, their whispers coming from every direction. A few raised voices cut through the darkness and they are joined by a shriek to prevent their guests from hearing them clearly. The noise is so harsh that Timoran is forced to cover his sensitive ears. It takes an hour for the politicians to finish their debate and stomp their feet to revive the torches. Several of the Pillars are no longer in the room and their chairs have been removed. A member with a Draconic mask steps down from the raised dais and approaches the champions, the towering person’s arms crossing their chest.

  “As we have said, the place you seek is Nevra Coil,” the man says in a clear, unaltered voice. Mutters of agreement fill the room, but Timoran can hear a chorus of disapproving grunts from behind the walls. “It is the new capital of the gnomes and it is located over the ocean. We can contact them about your presence here and pass along your request to see the factory. The gnomes have given us a communication orb for emergencies, but those of us here agree that this will be acceptable. A . . . transport should arrive in the morning to take you to the city. The landing area is in the northwest where the dockyards end.”

  “Why would a ship go to where the docks end?” Luke asks, his curiosity peaked by some of the Pillar’s words. A few vague conversations with Fritz Warrenberg return to his mind, bringing a smile to his face. “Is this city on the water? You mentioned it being over the ocean, which makes me think Nevra Coil is something special.”

  “The gnomes raised their capital into the sky several months ago,” the politician answers with a sense of pride. A scrap of mangled metal is pulled from his robes, the piece smoking as if recently removed from a fire. “We were allowed to see the event and swore to keep it secret in return for being a product port. That brings us to our request. It will sound complicated, but I assure you it is not. We have agreed that all we can hope for is that you ask and the rest is up to the gnomes. Though we do pray that you push for what we wish.”