The Mysterious Coin

by James E. Wisher

  “What now, sir?” Simms asked.

  Rondo’s laugh sounded brittle and hysterical in his ears. “Now we hope Domina has a bucket of whatever she used to get us out of the lab.”

  Leonidas glared at the wall of thorns blocking the road. His group had barely left the tower clearing when they ran into it. The vines were as big around as his forearm and sported thorns six inches long and needle sharp. Worse, no magic ran through them. The spirit must have created them then removed her presence so he couldn’t drain it. Clever and annoying, but it wouldn’t stop him. Figuring out how to get through the barrier without completely draining his ring’s stored energy was another issue.

  As he was thinking, Shade asked, “Want us to start chopping, Boss?”

  “Thank you, Shade, but if we have to cut our way to Domina and her team, I’m liable to die of old age before we arrive. It’s magic or nothing I’m afraid.”

  “I told you,” the spirit said. “You’ll never escape my forest alive.”

  How did she make her voice appear from everywhere and nowhere at the same time? It was like hundreds of people speaking all around him with one voice.

  Wait. If she was present everywhere and made of magic, he should be able to find her. Leonidas crouched, placed his right hand on the ground, and closed his eyes.

  Where are you?

  His awareness stretched out into the earth and he soon found faint wisps of energy like that which surrounded the spirit’s human form. It wasn’t much, but he grabbed it and drew it into the ring. And he didn’t stop pulling. Energy came from further and further away, filling the gem slowly but surely. Was there a limit to how much he could take before the spirit died? He didn’t know, but if that’s what it took to escape, he’d find out.

  When the green gem fairly sparked with magic he stood and released it at the wall of vines blocking their path. Emerald energy screamed out, vaporizing the first fifteen feet of the wall and blowing the next fifty feet to splinters.

  They advanced, Leonidas drained more of the spirit’s magic, and released it in a destructive blast. Seventy feet at a time they advanced. Soon he could sense the spirit’s magic so clearly that he didn’t even need to pause and release. He just absorbed and blasted in a constant flood of destructive energy.

  The pace wasn’t fast, but it was steady. Once the spirit tried to pull her power away, but his ring had too tight a grasp on it and Leonidas had no intention of letting her escape. Maybe he could kill the spirit and maybe he couldn’t, but either way he meant to leave her as weak as possible. There was no choice if they wanted to escape the forest.

  After half a day of blasting, they finally reached a dome of vines. Through the narrow gaps he could see Domina and the others. Beyond them was a stone building, probably the lab. Bringing the destructive flow of energy under control, Leonidas burned an opening in the barrier and stepped inside.

  The moment she saw him Domina came running over and hugged him. “I knew you’d come for us.”

  “Of course,” Leonidas said.

  He stopped draining the spirit’s magic but kept a firm grasp on the flow. If he needed it, he could resume his attack in an instant. Not for the first time Leonidas was glad that using his ring didn’t exhaust him the way using magic exhausted a wizard. Even so, he wasn’t as young as he used to be and it had been a long day. It was time to call Jax and get out of here.

  “Did you find anything interesting in the lab?” Leonidas asked.

  “Not as much as I’d hoped.” Domina pulled a vial of crimson liquid out of her satchel. “Pure dragon’s blood. This was the best thing I could save. I don’t know what happened, but the lab was in shambles. Some old experiments came to life and we were forced to retreat and seal the entrance. There wasn’t a single book.”

  “Strange,” Leonidas said. “There wasn’t a library in the tower either. I wonder if the mad emperor moved his entire operation elsewhere. That’s a mystery for another day. Call Jax and we’ll get out of here.”

  “With pleasure.” Domina closed her eyes and fell into deep concentration.

  “You think that spirit’s just going to let us go, Boss?” Shade asked.

  “No, but I understand her power now. I don’t believe she can stop us.”

  “I will stop you,” the spirit said, her voice filled with anger and perhaps a hint of pain.

  “I don’t think so.” Leonidas tugged on the energy flow, just enough to remind her that he wasn’t at her mercy. “You have a choice to make, spirit. Let us be on our way or watch me burn this forest to the ground with your own magic. I’ll do it one tree at a time if it takes the rest of my life, I swear.”

  “You are a monster,” the spirit said. “The Dragon Empire was a blight on the world, why would anyone seek to restore it?”

  “It was the height of human civilization,” Leonidas said. “Under the emperor’s absolute power, we reached levels undreamed of before or since. Is it so strange to want to bring those glorious days back?”

  “That glory was built on the backs of slaves, human and dragon. I watched it rise and fall. Saw the misery your civilization wrought. Bringing it back will help no one.”

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree. Will you let me leave or do I resume destroying your forest an inch at a time?”

  “Jax is on his way, Leonidas,” Domina said.

  “Everyone gather around.” Leonidas waved them into position.

  When they had gathered as close to him as possible, he drew power from the spirit and levitated the entire group. As they rose, he watched for any sign of aggression.

  The spirit made no move and the energy flow remained stable. Ten feet from the top of the vine dome, Leonidas burned an opening for them.

  No effort was made to repair the damage. Though silent, the spirit had clearly surrendered. That suited him fine. The time it would have taken to burn his way out of the forest wasn’t time Leonidas cared to waste.

  They cleared the treetops and a moment later the ships came soaring toward them. Jax positioned the ships under Leonidas who divided the group in half and lowered them to the decks.

  He topped off his ring’s energy supply before turning to Jax. “Take us home.”

  “You will regret this foolishness, human. Your arrogance will send you to your grave.”

  When they had moved out of range, Leonidas released his hold on her magic. Maybe the spirit was right. Empires did have a tendency to end badly. But before then they accomplished wonders. He was happy to gamble on the wonders outweighing the destruction.

  Chapter 17

  Moz examined his bloody thumb by the meager light of the basement’s sole lantern. He’d slit the pad trying to force the lock with his finger. That was after four days in the cage. After a week the boredom became more tolerable. He’d gone from being angry that he got caught to focusing on how to escape his predicament.

  His ranger training had covered torture of all sort, both receiving and delivering. What they hadn’t practiced, not directly at least, was keeping your mind occupied while locked up alone in a rich guy’s basement. To be fair, it wasn’t the sort of scenario his instructors were likely to have envisioned. The Kingdom of Carttoom tended to take more aggressive action against captured rangers.

  After a week of sitting silently and making no move when his guards brought his twice-daily meal, if you could call a tin cup of water and half a loaf of stale bread a meal, they’d begun to let their guard down. Instead of waiting for him to finish eating, they tossed his food in the cage and left. Rude, but that would work in his favor. The real trick was going to be surviving his crazy plan.

  When he heard the guard clomping down the stairs, Moz hung his head and slumped against the bars opposite the cage door. This posture put the guards the most at ease. Seeing him looked whipped seemed to amuse them. Moz hoped they enjoyed it. When he got out, they were all dead.

  When a long shadow covered the cage floor, he looked up at the guard looming over him. It was the usual
guy, better than six feet tall, bull neck, huge gut, ratty tunic, and poorly maintained sword sheath hanging at his side. Wherever Crow found him, he should send him back. Not that he was going to get the chance if Moz had anything to say about it.

  “Breakfast, Ranger,” the guard said.

  Moz caught a hand-sized roll as hard as a brick. It had hardly any weight for its size. The guard slid a cup of water between the bars and stalked back the way he’d come without a word. Moz wouldn’t see him again until tomorrow. A different guard brought his supper.

  The guard’s footsteps fell silent and Moz went to work. He broke up the dry roll and soaked it in the water until it became soggy. Next, he balled it up tight until he had a heavy, dense sphere. He drank what water remained and moved to the side of the cage closest to the lantern.

  If he screwed this up he wouldn’t get another chance. A deep breath calmed his racing heart. He stuck his arm out between the bars, drew back, and threw the ball of bread. It sailed in a perfect arc, slamming hard into the lantern, swinging it up to shatter on the wooden floorboards.

  Oil spattered and burst into flame. The wood was old and dry. It quickly caught fire and spread in every direction. Moz got as low as he could to escape the smoke.

  Now he’d see if they wanted him alive as badly as he hoped.

  Seconds later Fatso and a second, younger man came pounding down the stairs. They stopped and stared at the rapidly spreading flames.

  “There was a rat!” Moz shouted. “It hit the lantern and broke it.”

  While Fatso was trying to process that bit of madness, the younger man said, “Let’s get out of here!”

  “Can’t,” Fatso said. “Anything happens to the ranger and Crow will skin us alive. Get some water.”

  “It’s too late,” the young man said. “I’m going.”

  And so he did, running up the stairs as quickly as he came down. Good. Now it was one on one. Moz was pretty sure he could have taken them both if he had to, but this was much better.

  “Let me out of here,” Moz said.

  “Ha!” Fatso looked around for another option, but Moz had done his best to set things up so the only way to keep him alive was to take him out of the mansion.

  “Come on!” Moz shouted. “I don’t want to die here any more than you do.”

  Fatso took a final look around, grimaced, and pulled the brass key to the lock out of his pocket. “Don’t give me any trouble and I won’t bust your head.”

  Moz nodded eagerly. “Just get me out of here before the ceiling comes down on us.”

  He reached for the lock and Moz scrambled to his feet. When the door was open, Fatso grabbed him roughly by the arm and dragged him out, shoving him toward the stairs.

  Moz needed no more invitation. He hurried up the steps with his guard right on his heels.

  When he reached the top, Moz feigned a stumble, caught himself with his hands and mule kicked Fatso square in the chest. The big man went over backwards, tumbled down the steps, and landed with a sickening crunch at the bottom.

  Free at last, Moz looked left and right down a long hall. Where would he find his gear? Smoke filled the air. He needed to hurry before the bucket brigade showed up.

  Would Crow have kept his stuff in the office upstairs?

  Maybe. It was a place to look anyway.

  Moz ran left. Judging from the basement most of the house was that way. He rounded a corner and nearly flattened a woman in a black servant’s uniform. She took one look at his nearly naked form, screeched and ran.

  He caught her before she took three steps. “Where are the stairs to the second floor?”

  She pointed a trembling finger further down the hall. “Next right second left. The house is on fire, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know. You should hurry.” Moz let her go and she took his advice, running away as fast as her skirt would allow.

  Following her directions and keeping his head down to avoid choking on the billowing smoke, Moz reached the stairs and ran up them two at a time. At the top he turned right and found the office door open. A large iron-banded trunk had been added to the furnishings since his capture. Giving a silent word of thanks, he flipped the lid open and grinned. His armor and weapons were all there and undamaged.

  He was fully dressed and armed in less than five minutes which wasn’t a moment too soon. There was a crash from below when something collapsed.

  Time to make himself scarce. Rather than go back down the steps, he smashed out the office window. The siding had enough texture to give him hand and foot grips.

  It took almost as long to climb down as it did to put his armor on. The moment his feet hit the grass, Moz ran for the fence. Shouts from the front convinced him that he didn’t escape any too soon.

  Forcing his way though trees and topiary, Moz quickly reached the iron fence, scaled it, and dropped to the street outside. There were a few people on the street, but all of them were focused on the burning mansion.

  Satisfied that no one was paying him the least attention, Moz walked casually out of the district and back to the working-class quarter. He needed to find Crow and repay him for the kindness of his hospitality. Priscilla too. Luckily, he had a good idea where to look for them.

  After buying a real meal with the emergency coins sewn into his armor, Moz found a spot at an outdoor coffee shop across from the library to keep watch. He didn’t actually like the bitter, black brew, but bought a cup just to stop the serving girl from glaring at him. As he sat at his small table and watched the people walk by Moz relaxed, just for a second, and enjoyed his freedom.

  All his years in the rangers and he was never captured, but in retirement he ended up in a cage. He shook his head. If his instructor could’ve seen him in that basement, Moz never would’ve heard the end of it.

  He sighed and choked down a sip of coffee. Time to focus on business. His assumption was that Priscilla had to return to work or people would ask questions she probably didn’t want to answer. The best way to find her was to wait until she left for the day. He doubted it would be hard to convince her to lead him to Crow.

  Moz didn’t have many questions for the pair, but they were clearly not acting in Rend’s best interest. He’d eliminate them before returning to the Bardic College and updating Callie. He couldn’t deny he was a little worried about Ariel too. The kid was just odd enough that he imagined she’d have trouble making friends. Considering everything she’d been through, trust issues were to be expected. Hopefully no one did anything to make her call in a bigger dragon. Burning down the college wouldn’t be good.

  The hours trickled by and people came and went. Moz paid out a couple extra silver scales to hold off the serving girl. When evening came and workers in scholar’s robes emerged from the library he perked up. If she was coming, she should be along soon. He scrutinized everyone as they got closer, but there was no sign of Priscilla.

  But he did see a familiar face. Muttering to himself, he left his spot and made his way toward the girl that had helped him when he first arrived. What was her name? He tried to remember, but finally admitted failure. She wasn’t remarkable enough to stick.

  “Excuse me.”

  She jumped when he spoke. He had to remember to make a little noise to let people know he was nearby.

  “You scared me,” she said. “Did you find the man you were looking for?”

  “I did. Priscilla was a great help. I was hoping to thank her before leaving the city, but I missed her. Did she come in today?”

  “Yes, but she had to leave early. A boy came with a message for her, some trouble at home I guess. The chief archivist wasn’t happy, but what can you do when it’s family?”

  “True, family is important,” Moz said, not believing a word of her theory. Someone must have gotten word to her about the fire. “Do you know where she lives?”

  “I’m sorry. We work together but aren’t really friends. Isn’t that awful? I’ve known Priscilla for six months and still have no idea
where she lives. I guess it never came up.”

  “Thanks anyway,” Moz said. “I won’t hold you up.”

  She waved and hurried on her way, leaving Moz to contemplate his options. Swinging by the mansion didn’t strike him as a great idea. Would Crow be stupid enough to go back to the tavern? He might if he thought Moz was locked up.

  He shook his head. Word would have gotten to Crow by now as well. The Corvine house was most likely. Moz would swing past there and see what was what. If he came up empty again, he’d cut his losses and return to the college.

  Merging with the evening traffic, Moz made his way across the city to the house he’d first seen some time ago. What was it, a week, ten days? His sense of time was messed up after sitting in that cage where hours felt like days.

  As he strolled along, his eyes darted constantly, always on the lookout for any threat. He wouldn’t be taken by surprise again, that was certain. When he finally reached the right neighborhood, Moz slowed and approached the house. The moment he stepped out on the street he ducked back out of sight.

  Two men were dragging Robess toward the Corvine house. Priscilla must have told Crow the ex-soldier had lent him a hand. Now it was payback time. He didn’t want to see Robess suffer for lending a hand, but Moz couldn’t help being encouraged. If they were bringing him here, then Crow might be in residence. Either way, Moz needed to move quickly.

  He peeked around the corner of the building. The thugs were almost to the house. Timing would be the tricky part. He needed to hit them just as the door opened.

  Moz stepped out into the street, crossed to the opposite side, and quick walked down the street, his gaze never leaving the trio as they climbed the short flight of steps to the door. Robess hung limp between them. He wasn’t battered or bleeding, which was probably why more people weren’t paying attention to them. The way they had his arms around their necks it looked like they were simply helping a drunk friend home.