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

by Charles E Yallowitz

  Delvin wanders over to where Dariana is sitting with Fizzle curled in her lap. The silver-haired woman leans against the wall and stares at the mesmerizing rotation of the rotors in the ceiling. Her eyes shift from pure white to a deep black, giving her a beautiful and eerie appearance. One of the telepath’s fingers moves in unison with the mechanical parts, the motion driving her deeper into a trance. A tickle in the back of the warrior’s brain puts him on edge, so he clears his throat to get his companion’s attention.

  “I think your mind was wandering,” Delvin mentions as he gets comfortable next to Dariana. “You’re taking this better than some of the others. I’m really impressed at how you’ve accepted something as drastic as this machine.”

  “To be honest, I turned off my fear before I climbed on board,” she replies with a sheepish smile. Gently running a finger along Fizzle’s belly, she looks over at Sari who is back to complaining. “I would probably be worse than her. Things like this never existed in my time, so it is a lot to take in. I assume the city itself will be shocking. You have no idea what it’s like to live for so long, but never see the great changes as they occur. Every time I woke up, I felt like Windemere left me behind and I had to catch up. This time is easier since I have friends to help with the transition.”

  “Maybe we can get your father in one of these and he’ll die of a heart attack. After all, he’s been absent from the world a lot longer than you.”

  Dariana cannot hide her shock at Delvin’s words, her mouth remaining open as if to yell at him. “I . . . I never really thought about my father dying. I might have to kill my own flesh and blood now that the prophecy is coming to an end. There have been so many failures that I forgot what would happen if there were champions who made it to the final battle.”

  “Can you do it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  A screeching alarm goes off inside the vessel, signaling for everyone to pay attention to the pilot. Jo flicks a few switches above her head, amplifying her voice so everyone can clearly hear her. “We’re coming to Nevra Coil. Get ready for docking at Inspiration Tower instead of one of the Ring Houses. If you want to see the city then come to the front, but you better not complain while I’m giving the tour. I’ll be going too fast to repeat myself. We’re starting with the bottom, so don’t be scared. There hasn’t been a crash in a month. Two months since a fatality.”

  The champions gather around Jo’s chair and watch as the clouds part to reveal the underside of the flying city. The steel gray earth has several narrow tubes of yellow crystal spread along its gleaming surface, the enchanted objects creating a spiral that leads to a red, metal rod. An occasional spark falls from the central pole and dissipates into the clouds, giving the illusion of lightning. Jo has the vessel steadily rise to give everyone a clear view and she taps her ear to silently get her passengers to listen. Beneath the sounds of the ship’s rotors, the champions hear a dull hum whenever they pass close to a crystal. Those with keen eyes can see a sapphire orb that flickers like a flame inside the yellow tube’s core, but the strange object is definitely solid like a rock.

  “The flight crystals are designed to push off and ride the waves of the ocean. The outer tube is the reflector and the ice gem is the controller,” Jo explains as they flip around the far side of Nevra Coil. She scowls at the whimpering gypsy and begrudgingly slows the vessel down. “The central rod is what keeps us in a small area as we spin like a very slow top. Without that, we’d be floating all over Windemere’s oceans. You’ll feel the rotation at first, but the awkwardness will pass within a few hours. Before you ask, the system does nothing to the ocean below. We keep ourselves at a great height to prevent that and we turn off the crystals if we have to drop. That’s only in case of severe damage, so they would probably be malfunctioning in such an event anyway. Our backup system is a small army of pedaling stone golems that we activate in the core of Nevra Coil. Let’s get to the real event. Hey! Watch where you’re going, you son of an oil slick!”

  The vessel swerves out of the way of a small, windowless craft that is powered by a pedaling gnome. Once their heads stop spinning, the champions get their first look at the city of Nevra Coil. Glistening towers are everywhere with a vast collection of flying devices and beasts moving among them. Several structures are missing pieces, revealing metal beams and hardworking gnomes who are trying to finish the construction. The city is a beautiful creation of metal, stone, and glass with nothing on the earthy ground besides several colonies of orange slimes. The burbling creatures feast on the garbage that falls out of hatches, which are built into the lower floors of every tower. Compared to the enormous buildings, Jo’s vessel feels like a rowboat as it weaves among the chaos. Several times they come close to hitting another ship, their skilled pilot meeting each encounter with a slew of insults and curses. They hover when a claxon goes off and the circular tower ahead opens one of its floors to reveal another ring-shaped ship.

  “This is where we would normally dock, but you’re wanted on the one-hundred and eighty-sixth and a half floor of Inspiration Tower,” Jo says while waving to the other ship. She waits for them to leave before rising to the higher sky lanes where there is more space. “If you look to the right, you’ll see the Lizard. It’s used by those of us who don’t have a flying device due to no interest, accidents, revoked license, or whatever else can go wrong. I’ll swing by to give you a better look, but don’t stare directly into the golem’s eye. You never know if it’s going to be friendly or . . . churlish.”

  Dipping toward a metallic rail, the ship comes alongside a green-scaled reptile with seats grown into its wide back. A throbbing bubble covers the sitting area, the oily membrane protecting riders from the elements until the transport comes to a stop. Gnomes are comfortably sitting in the chairs, most of them reading notes or sleeping. The creature’s tail is merged with the track to prevent it from falling off while it pulls itself along using powerful front legs. A driver on its head opens a hatch in the top of its long nose to drop in a shovelful of screeching beetles. The Lizard slows down while everyone hears the insects getting crunched in the construct’s mouth. When the strange transport hisses at the ship, Jo pulls away and heads for where a trio of metallic birds are sitting on a windowless tower.

  “Those are our product transports, which we call the Flock. We have nine of them, but there are usually three out at a time,” the gnome says with a yawn. With the pull of a lever and a few stomps on an accordion pedal, the ring-ship gently turns toward a tower that ends in a forked spire. “Sorry we can’t get closer to the birds, but they’re being loaded right now. So we’re heading straight to Inspiration Tower where you’ll be staying. There are two hundred floors that include personal labs, government offices, honored guest suites, and the Founder Museum that doubles as a Temple of Voran. I’m not sure what you’re going to be shown, but I assure you that it’ll be exciting.”

  “I guess we can stop at a government office to discuss using Everthorne as a port,” Luke mentions while they stop to let a group of young gnomes on flying discs pass by. “Do you know who we can talk to about that?”

  “Those idiots are at it again?” Jo groans, adjusting their altitude as they get closer to the elegant building. They circle the roof and watch multi-colored lightning dance between the spire prongs. “They want us to create a Lizard stop within their territory, which was part of the original deal. Then we realized how bad an idea it was because of the distance. Instead, we’re working on a Ring House that can be erected in the current landing spot. It’ll be smaller than the ones here and we need to perfect the design to avoid disturbing the aerial fauna, but it will be done. Those Pillars need to be patient and stop using our guests as messengers. You’re the fifth group this month to bring this headache up.”

  “So where we go?” Fizzle asks from Dariana’s shoulder. “We need find doll maker.”

  “I’ve called ahead,” the pilot announces while pounding on a few buttons. She licks her lips as
she pulls a lever that creaks and unleashes a loud clunk. “Remember to hold onto the railing as you walk across the entry bridge. The winds from the flight blades can be dangerous. Good luck in there.”

  A scaffolding arm lowers to the proper floor and meets the ship as it waits for clearance from the building supervisor. After an unintelligible squawk over the intercom, Jo docks and the vessel comes to a shuddering halt. With Sari in the lead, the champions file out of a door that opens in front of the pilot’s chair and connects to a metal bridge that visibly sways in the strong winds. Not wanting to waste time, they hurry into Inspiration Tower and wave to their departing ride from the comfort of a shielded balcony. Once Jo and her vessel disappear into the crowded sky, Timoran pushes the door open to a platform that sits between the two floors. There are a few gnomes hurrying up and down the stairs, but none of them are close enough to notice the new arrivals.

  “It’s a half floor because it’s nothing more than a transition between the other two,” Dariana whispers as she closes the door behind her. She attempts a quick scan of the area, but an invisible force smacks her upside the head. “They have some rather aggressive psychic blockers. I assume to stop anyone from stealing ideas. I’m sorry, but I won’t be any help here.”

  “They would not put us on this floor unless someone was going to meet us,” Timoran points out while stretching his stiff legs. He stumbles back when he turns to see a full grown sheep patiently waiting behind him. “I cannot believe I was caught off-guard by a sheep. Did anyone hear this animal walk up to us?”

  “The thick rugs must have cushioned its footsteps,” Delvin guesses, scratching his chin. He chuckles as the animal meets his gaze. “I wonder why we didn’t see it when we came in. All seven of us missing an adult sheep is rather strange.”

  Sari kneels in front of the beast while trying to disbelieve it as an illusion. With a friendly bleat, the sheep licks the gypsy’s face and trots over to Luke. It hops up and down, getting even more excited when Fizzle lands on its wooly back. Bleating with glee, the sheep goes to nuzzle Nyx’s hip until she pats its head.

  “It’s Bessaria!” Luke exclaims when he recognizes the animal’s scent. The half-elf yelps and jumps when he feels a pinch on his rear. “What was that?”

  “I really didn’t do this part of you justice,” a female gnome says while jotting down some notes on a pad that is attached to her leather glove. The curious woman is wearing grease-stained pants and a nice shirt of metallic blue silk. “I won’t be able to fix it before the next shipment goes out tomorrow. I’m sure none of the customers will notice, but I do wish I had this information earlier. Let’s take a look at the rest of you.”

  “Who are you?” Sari asks before being shushed by the grinning gnome.

  “Please be quiet while I’m working,” she replies while meticulously examining Delvin’s arm shield. The black-haired inventor licks her lips as she gently taps along the armor plating with a tiny hammer. “Sari was easy to do since I needed a pretty girl doll. Kids who like that kind of thing don’t really care how exact it is. On the other hand, Nyx required some exaggeration because I wanted her to appeal to both genders. At least that’s what our research told me and we haven’t had any complaints.”

  “So you’re the one who made me . . . top heavy,” the channeler snaps, stepping forward to confront the gnome. “We really need to-”

  “I’m working!” the woman shouts through a strange tube that makes her voice echo throughout the building. Nyx backs down and rubs at her ringing ears, a flicker of flame rolling around her eyes. “Thank you. You’re next, big boy.”

  The gnome’s bronze shoes hiss as they transform into stilts that allow her to touch Timoran’s chest. Her nimble hands travel under his vest, which causes the towering barbarian to step out of reach. With a childish pout, the eccentric inventor retracts her shoes and makes some final notes.

  “I need to make your chest and arms more defined. The vest is a great touch and answers the request to make an alternate Timoran Wrath figurine,” she says, blowing a playful kiss to the uncomfortable barbarian. The gnome whispers a quick spell that runs an illusionary finger up Delvin’s spine, making him shiver. “I knew Timoran and Luke were toned, but I didn’t expect you to have such a tight body, Mr. Cunningham. Must be the chainmail that makes your muscles look less taut than your friends. Again, easily fixed in the next batch. Loving that armor sleeve because it gives you more character. Swords and shields are far too common. Did you make that yourself? Can I see it?”

  “I found it in Helgard,” Delvin nervously answers. He takes the sleeve off and hands it to the gnome who greedily snatches it. “Be careful with it. I don’t know where I can find another unless I go to Cerascent. It isn’t common around Ralian.”

  “Calm down,” the smiling inventor states as she hops onto Bessaria’s back. “I can build you another one if you want. Maybe add a hidden crossbow to this area, but there would be a trigger issue. A clenched fist activation can result in the wearer shooting themselves in the foot or worse. Let’s discuss everything over some tea and whatever my assistant claimed from the cafeteria. I told him to steal the noodle bar, but he might not have the tools to win that fight this time.”

  “Who are you?” Luke asks, backing away when the woman gets very close.

  Her red eyes soften and she pats the half-elf on the stomach. “Dad was right. You aren’t very bright unless your life is on the line. My name is Catarina Arnica Warrenberg of the Innovator League. Glad to meet you. Now let’s have some tea.”

  *****

  The long, metal table is like nothing the champions have ever seen before, but they easily figure out its purpose and usefulness. Large bowls are built into the top and have been filled with noodles of various shapes, flavors, and colors. Glass jars have been attached to the cart’s underside, their tops poking up to give access to whatever unique sauce they hold. It is difficult to sit around the table because the bottom is a series of drawers and cabinets, the handles striking the champions’ knees whenever they shift on their stools. Protruding shelves have been hastily clipped to the sides, so the diners can put their plates down and focus more on talking than balancing food on their knees.

  “Good job getting the noodle bar,” Catarina tells her faithful assistant who is resting in the corner. The bald gnome waves to his boss and goes back to enjoying the healing wrap that encircles his head. “I’m sorry he couldn’t get any apples for you, Fizzle. Though I think there’s an applesauce that goes good with this type of noodle. Have Sari whip you up a plate. Any tea requests? I have a vast collection.”

  “Surprise us,” the gypsy replies with a mouthful of food.

  Catarina opens a closet that is filled from top to bottom with canisters of tea. Her shoes elevate her to grab her favorite from the top shelf and she takes an extra bag for Sari who she thinks will enjoy it too. Going by what she knows of her guests, she meticulously looks through her vast assortment of flavors. She repeatedly looks at Dariana, the silver-haired woman still a mystery to the inventor, which makes it difficult to choose a tea. Catarina pauses near the highest shelf and turns around to examine her mysterious guest.

  “You were right the third time. I would like some lemon mint,” the telepath mentions, earning a concerned look from the gnome. “I’m sorry. I may have located the source of your psychic blocks, which are organic in nature. We had a chat and I promised to be on my best behavior.”

  “I am not much of a tea drinker,” Timoran admits, hoping he sounds polite in his refusal. A metal canister is tossed to him and he sees the word ‘ale’ written on the side. “Then again, I am always up for new experiences. Thank you.”

  Catarina gathers the rest of the tea and takes a long step to the stove, her shoes lowering as she moves. It is surprising to see a normal appliance in a room full of half-finished inventions and extra parts, most of the items unclear in their intended function. The room appears small because of the clutter and worktables, one of which is
smoking under a whirring exhaust fan. Another assistant quietly works at a distant table, carefully piecing together a cube of colorful crystals. With a burst of energy, the gnome is sent crashing into the far wall and her project melts through the ground. An alarm goes off as barriers are activated on the half-floor to prevent the dangerous object from falling further.

  “I told you not to put too many heat crystals in that,” Catarina lectures her assistant who is dangling in a mess of wires. She reaches down to pat Bessaria on the head, calming the anxious sheep. “It’s an indoor temperature controller, not a weapon. Now untangle yourself, get the protective gear, retrieve the prototype, and don’t tell Lorne about what you did. That violent bastard would try to sell it to a warlord within the week and then I’d have to go through all of the paperwork to stop him. Now let’s get down to business, my friends.”

  “We need you to stop producing the toys,” Nyx says while accepting her tea. She takes a sip and tastes a spicy chocolate that warms her throat. “That’s delicious. Anyway, we’d really appreciate it if you stopped because they’re making it hard for us to travel. We keep getting mobbed whenever we enter a town.”

  “More importantly, it poses a danger to everyone,” Delvin continues, licking his lips after tasting his coffee-flavored drink. “We’re dealing with an ancient darkness that can gain power through these figurines. Sort of. I’m not sure how to explain this clearly without saying too much. You see there’s a curse that’s being weakened by your toys.”

  Fizzle pulls his head out of his meal to state, “Bad man return faster if toys continue. It dangerous and people die. That clear?”

  “Let me see if I get this straight,” Catarina replies while sipping at her cherry and cinnamon tea. She stands on her chair to make everyone, except Timoran, look up at her. “You want me to stop producing the figurines because they make you too famous? I can see how that’s a problem, but I assure you that the fervor will calm down in a few weeks. Six or seven months if my estimates are correct. These dolls are fairly new and have remained within Serab for the most part. From what I’ve heard, your more recent adventures are taking you beyond the kingdom’s borders. So you won’t have to deal with this for long.”