by Jeff Kish
Pearl appears despondent. “I know. I heard it all.”
“Eavesdropping, Pearl? That’s unbecoming.”
“I heard more,” she says. “After you left, Rohe and his lackeys said that they’re going to move forward with the transfer once at the new facility. They’re going to kill you, Sreya!”
“We do not know that,” Sreya calmly reminds her as she stuffs her spare outfit into the bag, “but, regardless of my fate, you will soon be directly in the service of Angal.”
“And you’re really okay with that?”
“Of course. That has always been our objective.”
Pearl scrunches her nose. “I don’t want to be in the service of that pig. There’s no telling what he’ll make me do for his entertainment.”
“You might as well get used to it,” says her conductor. “You will soon be his plaything.”
“Even if it costs you your hand?”
“Even if it costs me my life,” Sreya stresses. “The mission of the Smith’s Hammer is a cause worth dying to achieve. Like me, you will offer your life to see to its success.”
“Your loyalty is wasted on him,” Pearl says. “He’s using you, surely you realize that.”
“If he is using me, then I am using him. Our dreams are the same.”
“They aren’t the same, Sreya,” she argues. “You want to replace a broken government with a noble organization, while that disgusting slug is just in love with power! He’ll abuse his authority in a heartbeat and you know it.”
“He will not,” she says. “You do not know him as I do, Pearl. He has my trust.”
“Well, you certainly don’t have his,” she says, crossing her arms.
“He trusts me.”
Pearl laughs aloud. “Then why cut off your hand? Why kill you? Surely you could wield me for his purposes.”
“He is the face of the guild. The power must be his to wield.”
“Since when? That fat oaf couldn’t lift a sword, let alone fight with one. You and his other lackeys have always been his muscle.”
Sreya grows agitated. “Go get your things, Pearl. We’re leaving tonight.”
“I don’t have things,” she pouts. With a wry smile, she asks, “But, besides that, why is that the first time you haven’t argued back?”
“Leave me alone!” cries Sreya, the symbol on her palm aglow. Pearl immediately obeys by jumping out the window, which relieves the guild lieutenant until she remembers her room is on the second floor. She races to the windowsill and peers into the dark courtyard, only to find Pearl casually strolling away along the path.
Sreya returns to packing as a sadness wells within. Unable to squelch the emotion, she flings a tunic aside and sinks to the floor. Her head hung low, she resists the onslaught of doubt and she hopes that Angal will soon remove this burden from her.
Chapter 17
Fire studies the elderly rune maker in disbelief. “Is… Is that true?”
“I would never lie,” Kama says while doing his best to keep pace with his younger companions as they hike the wilderness. “It’s actually how I got my start in making runes.”
The mercenary’s expression softens as her mind wanders, but Jem isn’t convinced. “No offense, Kama, but isn’t it cruel to contribute to that enterprise? Making sky boat runes… how many people have died because of runemakers like you?”
Kama is taken aback. “My goodness, that was certainly never my intent, though it’s true that a good tool in the wrong hands can bring about much suffering. My creations are designed to offer help and service to those who find them.” Motioning to Jem’s satchel, he says, “Those little guys may yet prove useful.”
Jem replies with a courteous yet forced smile. “Sure, the single-use ice rune will really help the ice maker.”
“Ah, so you’re an ice-” With a frown, he says, “Well, technically, there’s no such thing as an ice maker. It’s called an-”
“Yes, yes, I’ve heard this all before,” she interjects. “First Di, then Ospif, and now our eccentric rune maker here. Since when am I the dummy of the group? I used to be the smart one.”
“Yeah,” Era agrees a little too quickly, before his expression sours. “H-Hey, wait a minute…”
“So these air runes,” Fire chimes back in, directing the conversation back to its origins, “what keeps them all balanced? Is it a function of the control panel, or is it the pilot?”
“You seem to have quite an interest in sky boats, my dear,” Kama observes with delight.
“Which is weird since you fell off one from a thousand feet in the air,” Jem says.
“To be fair, she jumped off,” Era corrects.
Both Ospif and Kama turn to the mercenary in disbelief, but she ignores their looks. “So, the control panel does the balancing, or…?”
“W-Well, yes, in some cases,” Kama stutters as he regains his focus. “The control panel can manage all the runes to varying degrees, and oftentimes it will run something called a ‘batch’ to deploy a specific maneuver, such as a launch or hover. However, during flight, the maneuvering is performed almost entirely by the pilot.”
“Wow, Pearl was something else,” Era comments with a goofy grin. Fire glances back at him, just long enough for him to notice her ire. “What?”
“Wait, do you hear that?” Jem eagerly cries out. “I hear water.”
Kama says, “Yes, the Graker River runs nearby. I imagine we’ve found it.”
The group hurries to where the river carves its way through the rocky terrain, winding among the hills. The crystal-clear water invites the sweaty, weary travelers to enjoy its cool refreshment. Jem drops her bag and sprints toward it, with Era and Ospif following suit.
Kama relishes the sight of his three companions dipping their heads into the river and splashing one another, as if children at play. When Fire sits nearby, he looks to her with confusion. “Won’t you go enjoy the river?”
“Someone needs to keep watch,” she mutters, turning her eyes to the nearby rock formations.
“Oh, come now, there’s no one out here,” he says. “You should go. I’ll be the lookout.”
“Weren’t you just blindsided by bandits?”
He scratches his cheek and admits, “Yes, perhaps I lack the credibility to offer such services.” As Fire continues to peer around her surroundings, he notes, “You seem to be carrying an immense burden.”
“Butt out, old man,” she growls. “Unless it’s about sky boats, I’m not interested in a chat.”
“Then I apologize. I’ve apparently touched a nerve,” he says with regret. “Is it really nothing you wish to discuss?”
“Yes, it’s nothing I wish to discuss,” she sneers. “It’s hard enough keeping the idiot at arm’s length. I don’t need anyone else getting into my business.”
“And what is your business?”
“My business is personal,” she says.
“Then why do you travel with friends?”
“They aren’t friends.”
“Well, what else would you call them?”
“Tools.”
He studies her tone carefully. “If they are only tools, then why do you care so much about them?”
“I don’t,” she claims. “I have one purpose in life, and I’m on the verge of seeing it through. Everything else is a distraction.”
“One purpose, eh?” Kama asks. “So what happens after you have accomplished this single purpose? What comes next?”
Before she can help it, Fire finds her eyes falling to Era as he happily splashes an unsuspecting Jem. It’s not that she is oblivious to the void that would come from killing her long-time target, but she has always chosen to ignore that particular facet of her undertaking. Planning a future beyond this mission is not a priority.
Kama opts not to pry any further, instead extending his hand. “Care to come with me to get a drink?”
“No.”
“Oh, very well,” he says sheepishly. “Just remember, Fire. We can onl
y indulge our own selfishness for a time, as we all need others in our lives.” With that, he heads to the river bank, leaving the lonely warrior on the slope.
* * *
As the sun reaches midafternoon, the five travelers round a hill to find the city of Gantz in full view. The city’s footprint is greater than that of Stayltin, this time with a substantial amount of traffic despite the late hour.
Era tenses, and Kama takes notice. “Is everything alright?”
“This city is supposedly under Krypta control,” he says. “Our last run-in with Krypta was harrowing.”
“What exactly happened?”
Jem jumps in, “Oh, nothing too bad. I mean, sure, I was captured, imprisoned, and beaten. And I guess Era had to break into their fortress to rescue me, and we had to fight an Allerian commander to escape, though he was nothing compared to fighting the most talented, most insane fire shaper I’ve ever seen.”
“Hey now, stop exaggerating,” Era says. “After fighting that Valvoran commander twice, I’d say he’s the better shaper. Though, admittedly, Garn was more insane.”
Kama’s eyes widen. “You two have had some incredible adventures together.”
“That’s nothing compared to what I’ve seen,” Fire grumbles. “These two attract trouble like no one’s business.”
“Agreed,” Ospif chimes in, “though I’d lump a certain smelly ruffian in with them.”
Though Fire pretends to ignore him, she subtly drops to the back of the group and sniffs her pits. She isn’t pleased with what she discovers.
“Well, it’s no small wonder you’re all so tight with each other,” Kama says. “Your bonds are surely unbreakable at this junction.”
“Is that a joke?” Era asks in disbelief. “You’ve been with us long enough to know that isn’t true. I mean, not one of us likes Ospif.”
“Ospif doesn’t like you, either,” the student retorts.
“Plus, I hate Fire,” Jem adds.
“That’s perfectly fine, because I hate you all,” Fire says.
“I don’t mind you,” Era says.
“Well, I have a special hatred for you.”
Kama scratches his cheek. “Maybe ‘unbreakable’ was a stretch.” As they approach the town gate, he gives a wave to two figures up the road. “Ah, it seems my associates arrived before I did.” Turning to his roadside savior, he extends a hand and says, “Era, had you not come to my aid, it is possible I’d have never arrived at all. I am grateful for your generous spirit.”
“I was glad to do it,” Era assures him, accepting his gesture. “Thanks for sharing your stories and runes.”
“Your single-use runes,” Jem adds.
“I am still in your debt,” Kama says. To Jem, he motions to her bag and asks, “Do take care of them for me?”
“Yeah, yeah, will do.”
“And be careful with the lightning one!” he calls out over his shoulder as he takes his leave.
“‘Still in your debt’, as if that wasn’t obvious,” Jem retorts. With the town gate ahead, she glances to Fire and asks, “Okay, so how do we sneak into this city?”
“Sneak in?” Fire asks. “No, there will be no sneaking. We will march in and demand our information.”
“You’re Valvorans,” Jem stresses. “You made me sneak into a Valvoran town because I was Allerian! It’s only fair you do the same.”
Fire ignores her and boldly approaches the gate through a crowd of travelers, and Era follows after her without pause. Ospif gives chase as well, not wanting to be left alone amidst so many Allerians. Reluctantly, Jem follows as well.
Era discovers an atmosphere unlike anything he has thus far experienced on his journey. The crowds are loud and energetic. The riveting music of lyres, harps, and pipes makes its way to his ears. He gives a glance to Jem, who shares his puzzlement as they cross the threshold into the town plaza.
Here, entertainers wander the streets amidst jovial crowds. Instead of the typical market vendors, stations are ready to freshly grill meats and vegetables. A mix of perfume, food, and alcohol infuse the air, fueling the graceful dancers who twist and twirl to the delightful tunes of the musicians. Era is mesmerized by a pair of Allerian fire breathers demonstrating their skills, only to next be enchanted by dancers wearing lightning runes that spark with their movements. The sights are almost too much to take in.
The approaching twilight seems only to draw more revelers, and even Fire is taken aback by the scene. An entertainer jumps in front of her and shouts, “Welcome, welcome!” His colorful suit and hat glimmer with the shards of smooth glass that sparkle in the light of the sunset. In his hands are small runes, each glowing a bright blue. Era is awestruck by the glowing orbs, having never seen a light rune produce a color other than white. The vendor juggles them and advertises, “Ten ault, ten ault!”
Fire ignores his offer. “We’re looking for the gambling house.”
“The kajoni? Straight ahead!” he calls out as he moves on to the next potential customers.
Era can no longer keep his amazement inside. “Is this the same Alleria that has shunned, attacked, and almost killed us just for being Valvorans?” he demands to know, yet his companions have no clearer understanding of this than he.
The flow of the crowds makes it easy to find the towering center of entertainment, and the overwhelmed foreigners stare in astonishment at the compound affixed with hundreds of tiny light runes, some even arranged to spell out “WELCOME” to all who approach. Visitors are arriving with an expression of excitement and hope, whereas most seem to be leaving with a spirit of dejection.
“What a waste of… everything!” Ospif huffs. “How have we not conquered this dreadful, frivolous people yet?”
“I want to know why Alleria hasn’t conquered us yet!” Era cracks. “They sure know how to have a good time, and I want to have at that aroma coming from the grilling stations.”
“We’re here for a purpose,” Fire harshly reminds him as she leads them through the entrance. Though hardly expecting a different response, Era finds himself dejected as he follows.
The kajoni floor is elegantly decorated with plush carpets and engraved draperies. Crowded gaming tables litter the area, where damsels in frilly dresses accompany seasoned but wealthy gamers as they find a place to toss their coins into a pot. Era is intrigued by the wide variety of games being played. Some tables have holes drilled into its surface, each designated by a number and a color, and a player calls out one or the other before taking aim and flinging a marble. At another table, players compete against each other using cards, calling out numbers to the jeers or cheers of their spectators. He can’t help but fantasize about joining in the revelry.
Fire, however, remains stoically focused as she pushes toward a packed bar, and she flags the bartender while squeezing herself in. “I’m looking for Corpit Luk,” she says, keeping her voice low. The waiter is startled by the request, and he hesitatingly directs her to a door in the back corner, which is guarded by two strongmen. She marches boldly over and strikes up a conversation. “We’re here to see Corpit.”
They glance at each other in amusement, and one shoos his hand. “Get lost, little piggy. We’re not letting no Valvorans through these doors.”
“He’ll want to see us,” Fire says. “Tell him we’re here to discuss runoids.”
“I told you, we ain’t-”
“One hundred ault says you’ll deliver that message,” she teases, jingling a handful of coins, and, all too quickly, one holds out his hand. She drops half the coins into his palm and says, “Deliver the message for the rest.” Though he grumbles, he turns and disappears into the chamber within.
Era can’t help but enjoy watching Fire at work. She is able to tune out distractions and cut straight to the target, and she knows how to get what she wants. It’s exactly how he used to envision himself: the master thief, calm and collected in every scenario, a guru of manipulation and deceit. His motivation to achieve that dream is long dead, yet h
e can’t help but wonder if he would have gotten there.
The strongman returns and extends his palm. Fire studies him suspiciously, but she deposits the remaining coins. After he counts them, he steps aside and motions for the group to enter.
Era arrives in the private room to find a party of its own unique atmosphere within. A crowd surrounds a long table, with many well-dressed individuals shouting, whooping, and cheering as the action unfolds. At the center of attention is an older Allerian, accompanied by a woman caressing his long, gray hair and showering him with attention as he plays his cards. The frilly dresses of escorts dance amidst the well-dressed patrons as everyone plays their part in the merriment, and a kajoni runner deposits fresh drinks for the players before disappearing out a back door. More guards are stationed at the edges of the room, their eyes locked on the out-of-place arrivals.
“I’m feeling underdressed,” Jem observes, eyeing the other women as they approach the table.
“I’m feeling over-Valvoran,” Ospif gulps. “This is seeming less and less a good idea.”
“You wanted to meet Luk,” Era reminds him. “Let’s just keep our cool.”
They squeeze up to the table and watch the game unfold as a dealer shuffles the cards and delivers them to the five players. Era tries to discern how and why they throw cards on the table as they also pair up their coins, but it’s hopeless for him to find the pattern. The popular gambler slams three cards face-up, and the room cheers ecstatically as he collects his prize. The losers leave the table in frustration, though their seats are quickly snatched.
The Krypta boss ignores his new guests, content to play his game. Era glances to Fire, who watches with arms crossed, seemingly satisfied with waiting for an audience. Eventually, as the leader hauls in his coins from the table, he waves his hand in the air to silence the room. “Let us adjourn for an hour. Next game is Lightning!” Amidst hearty cheers, the room empties out, and he beckons for Fire to come closer. He eyes her up and down with a dissatisfied frown. “Not much a fan of Valvoran women. Especially ones so… scrawny.”
“I’m here to talk business,” she says sternly.
