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

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “I wasn’t going to go that far,” Dariana states, her cheeks turning a little red. “If Nyx was here, I’d get her to kiss Delvin and . . . where’s Nyx?”

  The doctors and nurses exchange worried glances before one says, “She wasn’t in the factory when we arrived. We’ve searched all over the city, but she is nowhere to be found. It’s possible that Yola Biggs and Queen Trinity took her.”

  “That would be very bad,” the champion replies, pushing her tired mind to scan every inch of Nevra Coil. She finds ghosts of Nyx and Trinity fighting in the factory, but nothing recent enough to reveal her friend’s location. “She isn’t in the city, but I’m not ready to believe Yola took her. That would mean she’s being brought to the Baron who would either kill, corrupt, or torture her. I pray she isn’t handed over to Stephen, which would result in all three of those scenarios and worse. If she’s in the same comatose state as the others then her mind could easily be rebuilt to suit his desires.”

  “What will you do?”

  Dariana cracks her knuckles and moves from one bed to the other, her hand tapping a toe on each of her friends. “I trust Nyx to survive while I revive our friends. There’s a way to track her down and work on the others, but it would leave me at half strength. If I was to find her with our enemies then I would fall into their hands as well. So it’s best that I focus on this problem and use that other spell when I have someone to help me. The difficult question is, who do I use here? Timoran is loyal to his wife. Delvin only reacts that way to Nyx and I won’t trick him. Fizzle is not an option unless you count apples. Luke and Sari are rather damaged even though . . . I’m very sorry about this, my friends. This is the only way to save you.”

  The champion massages her temples as she moves between Luke and Sari, pulling the beds close enough for her to touch both of them. She slips her clear ring off and places it on the table, the item nearly vanishing from sight. Pressing her fingers to their clammy foreheads, Dariana takes a deep breath and focuses on their empty psyches. Seeking out her friends’ pleasure centers, the telepath sends lustful images and thoughts into the eerie void. The mental implants bounce within the suffocating darkness until they strike the faint thread that connects the bodies and minds. A burst of raw pleasure ripples through all three and Dariana falls into a crouch while gasping for air. She struggles to maintain contact while her arms shake and sweat forms on her brow. The urge to collapse and succumb to the surging emotions causes her to bite into her lower lip. Luke and Sari continue to writhe and squirm beneath the telepath’s hands, which come close to slipping several times. The more uncomfortable gnomes slip out of the room, leaving only two nurses and the doctor who turn their backs on the embarrassing display.

  “I’m very sorry,” Dariana whispers as she removes the vivid images from her friends’ minds. She shudders as the ripples of pleasure fade from her nerves and she stands at her full height. “I hope they don’t remember this and I trust nobody will tell them.”

  The remaining gnomes shake their heads, fearing that the woman might do something to them if they disagree. Luke and Sari reach toward each other, a crackle of lightning from him leaping out toward a tendril of water that snakes from her palm. Nobody can move in time to stop the energy from meeting and a burst of electricity ripples throughout the room. Everyone is knocked off their feet and the door is blown out into the hallway. People scream and dive for the floor, the projectile taking out two gem-powered imagery machines as it hurtles across the crowded lobby. The terrified patients and workers stare at the hunk of smoking metal that remains embedded in the far wall.

  “I hope you found what you were looking for,” the doctor says to Dariana. He waves to the scowling head nurse, assuring her that everything is under control. “We’ll make sure to keep these two separate from now on. This is on top of doing our best to keep them alive for as long as we can. The salvation plants don’t last forever.”

  “I got a sense of their location, but it will still be a challenge. They’re somewhere in the city of Gaia,” the champion states while getting a drink of water from the sink. Her hands shake as she splashes some of the warm liquid over her face. “It could take more than a few days to figure out where they are since the city is so big and I haven’t been there for years. I don’t even know what they’re connected too, so they could be anywhere.”

  “You have a week and a half to find them. Two weeks at most,” the gnome says, refusing to sugarcoat the situation. Grabbing the chart from Delvin’s bed, he reads over the information in search of a way to give Dariana more time. “This bond you speak of is obviously not enough to sustain their vital systems. As I said, the salvation plants will eventually fail and then the bodies will start to rot. We may have some experimental techniques and medicines, but I cannot be sure of their success. If this is similar to a deep coma then reviving them after a certain point will either turn them into zombies or cause them to die instantly. There is a one percent chance that they’d survive, but I wouldn’t depend on that chance.”

  With renewed worry and horror, Dariana takes in the sight of her friends and imagines them never waking up. Even more terrifying is the thought that she will fail and be forced to kill the undead champions. She has no idea how she would explain such actions to Nyx if the caster is still alive and attached to her body. Not wanting to waste any more time, she creates an image of herself at each bed and has them kiss her friends on the forehead. One by one, all of the Darianas disappear including the real one.

  *****

  Catarina grumbles and curses under her breath as she crawls off a pile of dog-eared notebooks. The incessant knocking continues even when she incoherently snarls at the unwanted noise. Her hair is a mess and she has deep bags under her crimson eyes, which are so blurry that she trips over Bessaria. The sheep rushes into the next room where the gnome hears a crash, the beast’s bleating lasting for a few seconds. Her father’s loyal steed timidly returns with several shirts stuck to her wool and a dresser drawer over her head. Catarina hits a creaky button on the wall to unlock the door before she goes to free Bessaria from the mess.

  “We need to talk,” Dariana declares as she barges into the room. She nimbly steps over the clutter even though her attention never strays from the gnome. “You’re going to help me figure out where my friends are.”

  Catarina gently hands a figurine to the woman and goes into another room, the door closing with the faint click of a lock. Steam flows out from under the entrance and the faint sound of running water drowns out the inventor’s angry muttering. Not wanting to lose her only ally, Dariana flops onto a sagging couch and stares at the bizarre toy in her hand. The black and white form of Yola Biggs is topped with a mop of rough hair that slowly changes from one shade of green to another. Cringing at every curious touch, she presses the limbs and spins the head in search of hidden tricks. Nothing happens, so Dariana tosses it onto a nearby chair, which explodes in a burst of green smoke. A purple chicken emerges from the cloud and sprints into another room, startling Bessaria as it jumps into the closet.

  “The dolls transform objects into random things when thrown!” Catarina yells from her shower. “I haven’t run any tests, so the rest are still in the factory with the priests. If I can dispel the enchantments then I can replicate them, put them into the next shipment, and keep that crazy goddess out of my hair. All of that is going to have to wait until we fix this mess.”

  “They’re in Gaia,” the telepath reports as she retrieves the toy. Not wanting to cause any trouble, she gently places it on paper-covered desk. “I followed a mental tether from their bodies to the city. I have no idea where Nyx is, but the others can help me find her once we revive them.”

  “I know all that,” the gnome says while she steps out of the bathroom. A rain of warm water follows the naked woman down the hall, turning off when she reaches her bedroom. The sound of powerful winds erupts from the floor as heated gusts evaporate the puddles. “After you left the lounge, I got my head togeth
er and watched the factory through one of the sensory orbs I had installed. I heard Yola and Trinity say they couldn’t kill the champions. That gave me some hope and the courage to get down to the entrance. So I was the first one inside after Yola sort of fixed everything and I had time to examine all of you before the emergency team arrived. You were merely unconscious, but the others were in deep comas. I rigged one of the pumping machines to keep their hearts and lungs going, which was much easier than I expected. After all that I sealed myself in my quarters to figure this disaster out.”

  Her ebony hair tied up, Catarina steps out of her room wearing a white tunic and simple breeches as if preparing for a long journey. A revitalization potion is clutched in her mouth, the gnome occasionally jerking her head back to swallow some of the orange liquid. With her strength returning, Catarina grabs a patch-covered satchel and stuffs it with books, potions, pouches, and food for Bessaria. The sheep hurries to a strange tower in the corner where the whirring of gears announces the attachment of her polished saddle.

  “I’ve got a pedal-powered flying machine waiting for us,” the inventor declares with a wide yawn. She frowns before tossing a few more orange potions into her luggage. “You have stronger legs and you’re probably more rested than me. If we’re lucky and the ship remains intact then we can arrive in Gaia within five days. Three if you chug a few energizing potions, but I don’t want to lose you once we arrive.”

  “Can you slow down and explain what’s going on?” Dariana interrupts while a headache steadily blooms behind her eyes. “You know where our friends are, but you stayed here. Do you know where Nyx is too?”

  “I was really hoping to handle questions as we traveled,” Catarina replies with an exasperated sigh. She takes a seat on the windowsill and puts on some scuffed, mud-covered boots. “First, I didn’t go anywhere because I needed you. I figured out approximately where our friends are, but only you can track them down in a city as large as Gaia. Even if you can’t locate their precise location, your telepath can get you close enough for your other senses to finish the job. If I went alone, I’d be chasing my own tail and probably get arrested for harassing people. As for what’s going on, I was confused until some of the factory workers talked to me this . . . I’m not really sure how long I’ve been in here. I’m going to go with yesterday evening. Anyway, the workers sent the remains of the latest shipment of figurines to Gaia and they swore there were muffled voices coming from some of the crates. Of course they checked for stowaways, but nothing was out of the ordinary. It doesn’t take a highly intelligent gnome like myself to put all of those pieces together.”

  “Yola put their minds into some of their figurines.”

  “Minds and auras from what I can gather.”

  “Then we need to get Nyx first.”

  “The others will be lost if we waste time looking for her.”

  “But-”

  Catarina cuts Dariana off with a harsh shush, a telescoping fingertip coming off her glove to press the other woman’s lips. “There’s no trace of Nyx in the factory. Yola did something else with her and it could take weeks or months or forever to figure it out alone. Unless you can scan every inch of Windemere without melting your brain, she’s going to have to wait.”

  “We could not agree more,” a melodic voice says from the other side of the room.

  Gabriel and a beautiful chaos elf stand amid the clutter of Catarina’s apartment, the deities ignoring the mess. Wearing his ebony platemail, the God of Destiny snaps his fingers to erase the door and prevent anyone from walking in unexpectedly. He smiles at the cobalt-skinned woman who is wearing a low-cut, crimson dress that shifts in a breeze that nobody else can feel. Her hand reaches toward the window, releasing a wave of force that masks the god and goddess from the senses of everything in Nevra Coil. She takes her husband’s gloved hand and keeps a close eye on Dariana, who nervously moves to an empty corner.

  “I’m honored to have Gabriel and Ambrosine in my home,” Catarina states with a bow. She gives a hopeful look around the room and sighs when she fails to find whatever she is looking for. “I guess Voran won’t be joining you. Considering the trouble my creations have caused, I expected him to contact me.”

  “Your god has been busy minimizing the damage while holding to our only law,” Gabriel replies, his body becoming transparent. He takes a deep breath and concentrates on solidifying his illusionary form. “You have some powerful barriers in this city. The combination of magic and technology is enough to make me focus more energy on this task than I am used to. I trust your people will not attempt to turn this power against us.”

  The gnome looks shocked and appalled at the suggestion, earning a brief smile from the deities. “I’d never do something like that. Trying to harm or control the gods is ridiculous. Even if I was to do it, what would be the point? The slightest mistake would result in me being stuck with a bunch of enraged beings who could kill me with a thought. Besides, history has shown that Windemere will always find a way to balance itself. I kill a deity and someone will rise to take their place. So you have nothing to worry from me and my people. There may be a few bad apples, but that goes for any group.”

  “I like this one,” Ambrosine whispers with a giggle. She reaches out to caress Catarina’s face, her touch leaving a warm fingerprint on the inventor’s skin. “She knows her place and understands the order of our world. I can sense that she learned it from her father. If things go well and the crisis is averted, I might petition to reward her.”

  A vivid image is placed in Catarina’s mind and a small shield is created to prevent Dariana from spying. The gnome sees her brother walking on functional legs and grabbing tools off low shelves with new arms. She can tell that they are prosthetics, but they are flawlessly attached to his stumps and move with the fluidity of real limbs. Even the footfalls sound like those of flesh and bone instead of the clunk of metal or waterstone. The vision is taken away before she can discern any of the mechanics, leaving her confused and excited.

  “You would give me the knowledge to make those?” Catarina asks, touching the goddess’s soft fingers. She practically cries at the fading memory of her brother walking, a single tear threatening to roll out of the corner of her eye. “I swear, I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this if that is what you’re promising me.”

  “I will talk to Voran and convince him to start you on the path,” Ambrosine promises, waving her free hand at Gabriel. The frown on his face abruptly becomes a smile, but he still growls his annoyance. “Do not be such a grump, my love. I can promise whatever I want if she helps my favorite child. Besides, she loves her brother so much that it would be wrong not to reward her in such a way.”

  “Some days I wonder how you became so kind,” Gabriel says while he watches his wife continue to stroke the gnome’s cheek. It crosses his mind that she sees the woman as a pet and decides to let Ambrosine have her fun. “We are here to tell you that the channelers have been taken care of. Yola put them somewhere special because they resisted some of her spell. They will be returned to their stations once they have recovered.”

  “She hit Trinity too,” Dariana says in disbelief. She cowers for a second when the deities face her with glittering eyes of gold. “If they weren’t put in the toys then what happened to them?”

  “We do not know if Yola struck my chosen on purpose since nobody can really figure out the Exiled One’s reasoning. It’s possible that she did it by accident,” the elegant chaos elf answers. Her features briefly become cat-like and she licks her lips with a rough tongue. “The channelers were able to combine their energy to deflect the curse, but there was backlash. All we can say is that they were badly injured on all levels and Yola . . . delivered them to a special facility.”

  Gabriel growls, the noise shaking the entire building. “I would like to know how she learned of that place.”

  “Now is not the time, dear,” the goddess hisses, gently whipping his ebony hair into his face with a breeze. “We are on
a tight schedule.”

  “So Nyx and Trinity are safe,” Catarina says as she gets on Bessaria. She sees a flicker of doubt on Dariana’s face and swallows a lump growing in her throat. “Don’t tell me something else is wrong. If they’re being taken care of then there shouldn’t be any reason for us to worry about them.”

  Not wanting to waste time with questions, Gabriel whistles and the three mortal creatures are teleported to their transport. Confident that events are unfolding properly, he turns to his wife and gives her a kiss on the cheek. The goddess pats his armored chest and walks through the furniture to look out over Nevra Coil. Her eyes become orbs of sparkling light and she casts her vision around the globe. The ghostly energy passes harmlessly through living creatures, land formations, and whatever else is in their winding path. In a few seconds, Ambrosine has spied on her favorite locations and lets out a melancholic sigh.

  “You play a dangerous game with this manipulation,” she says with a slight tremor in her voice. “I hope you explain your reasons to me when this is over. After all, I do not see how these events can help in defeating my father.”

  “I promise to tell you everything when all of the pieces have fallen into place, my love. Do you not trust your little half-sister?”

  “Not when Windemere is in danger of being blown to dust by two damaged sources of raw aura,” Ambrosine sharply replies as her husband puts an arm around her shoulders. Her skin becoming oily, she slips out of his embrace and moves out of reach. “Even after all of these centuries, Dariana remains untested as an individual and her social experience is worse than that of a child. These new champions have helped her, but this adventure might be beyond her current abilities. I will keep an eye on her from afar, so do not disturb me until this is over. Consider my distraction and lack of interest in your attentions a suitable punishment for causing this much peril, my hellish husband.”

  Gabriel shoots his wife a withering look, which she casually ignores and gives him a quick peck on the lips. Ambrosine fades away, leaving only a single, cobalt moth that flies through the closed window. Her husband transforms into a slightly bigger moth of the darkest black and follows, passing through the buildings and flying vehicles like an annoyed phantom.