Flameseeker (Book 3)

by R. M. Prioleau

  At the city’s gates, Kaijin and his friends passed the two posted guards, who granted them entrance with a bored look at Aidan and a more lingering one at Zarya.

  Ostwyn was a busy city, and it reminded Kaijin of Easthaven. Vendors of linens, pottery, fruit, books, and many other things lined the streets. Colorful tents of gold, red, purple, and yellow were visible toward the center of the city. Similarly colored banners and streamers hung from walls and strung across the streets.

  Unlike Easthaven, Ostwyn was a melting pot of different types of people. Humans walked with brownies; elves chatted with half-Dragons; and exotic beings that Kaijin had never seen before seemed to live peacefully amongst the other races.

  “Wow! This place is amazing!” Kaijin said.

  Nester grinned over his shoulder. “Ain’t it? It’s a fun place to kick back an’ enjoy th’ sights an’ sounds without worryin’ about frightenin’ blokes.”

  Zarya nudged Aidan. “I bet you will find many answers that you are seeking here. I’ve not seen so many half-Dragons in one place like this before. It is a rather beautiful sight.”

  Aidan looked on with weary eyes. “It is nice. But Aidan is too hungry to look for answers now. Maybe later.”

  She chuckled. “Yes, a meal does sound nice.”

  “So now that we’re here,” Jarial began, “let us see about a boat.”

  “Leave that to me.” Nester pointed a thumb to his chest, grinning widely. “I’ll see you mates at th’ Inn of Good ’Ome—largest inn in th’ city. Can’t miss it!” He ran off, disappearing into the shadows of an alley.

  Jarial took a step, about to follow, but backtracked and shook his head instead. “Damn it all.”

  “Don’t worry, Master,” Kaijin assured him. “He will be back.”

  “He’d better be. Very well, then. Let’s at least go see about the waiting list for the next passenger ship and then look for the inn that Nester suggested.” He marched on ahead, and Zarya and Aidan followed.

  Kaijin was about to follow them when he noticed Omari silently standing to the side, watching the passing crowds. Percival scrambled down his master’s body and began investigating a fruit vendor’s booth nearby, but Omari didn’t seem to notice.

  “You’ve been awfully quiet since we arrived, Omari. Is everything all right?” Kaijin asked.

  Omari turned to him, scowling. “I remember this city—long, long ago. My father brought me here when I was a boy. He was taking me to Ghaeldorund, to the Citadel. We rested at an inn one night, and Father was robbed. The thief took his ring.”

  “That’s unfortunate. Did your father ever find it?”

  Omari shook his head. “It was a family heirloom, too, passed down from his father. I still remember the shocked look on Father’s face. He was a cautious man who kept strong enchantments on his possessions to ward off thieves. But somehow, that confounded thief managed to break through even that defense.”

  “Sounds like a powerful thief, if you ask me.”

  Omari shrugged. “Yes, well ... It does not matter now. That was twenty-four years ago. The point is, Kaijin, that while we are here, we need to keep our eyes open and purses close.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.” Kaijin looked skyward and spotted Miele’s silhouette in the sky. I don’t think I’ll have to worry about tonight.

  * * *

  Nester snaked through the dark, twisting alleys with ease, not stopping to chat or observe any untoward activity. It’d been five years since his last visit to Ostwyn, and he still remembered every path and detour as if it was ingrained in his mind. He easily avoided the protruding cobblestones that would trip anyone unfamiliar with the city’s layout.

  The air became thick and musty, and Nester knew he was near his destination. He reached what would have appeared to be a dead end to the average person, and detoured down a set of stairs, which was cloaked in darkness. His footsteps echoed louder off the stone walls the deeper he descended, and he began to hear water dripping in the distance.

  When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Nester spied a glimmer of distant candlelight and grinned. He’s here.

  Nester hurried toward the light, which glimmered through the open slats between the wooden boards nailed to the wall. The structure appeared to be a small shanty built into the architecture of the tunnels, but its run-down state made it seem as though it was uninhabited. Nester made four distinct knocks in a pattern at the peeling wooden door then stood back and waited. He heard shuffling on the other side, and a small window in the door slid open, revealing a face, silhouetted against the dim light in the room beyond.

  “The oak’s rum cod is bountiful, but his dagger is paumed ...” a familiar male voice said.

  Stix. Nester grinned and finished, “An old ’and dies ’ard.”

  After a pause, the window slid shut and, after a series of cracks, clicks, and slides, the door opened fully, and the figure disappeared into the candlelit room. Nester shut the door behind him and locked it back with the numerous mechanisms. When this was done, he hurried to where his old friend, Stix was waiting for him.

  Stix assessed Nester briefly, and his eyes suddenly went wide. “Holy hells! Nester! Is that really you?”

  “Who else?” Nester said proudly. “You’re lookin’ mighty fine yourself. ’Ow’re doin’?”

  “As well as I can be. Business is all right, though you best believe I missed my favorite customer. Find anything good during your travels?”

  Nester shrugged. “A few things, but nothin’ worth sellin’. That’ll change, though. I promise.”

  Stix nodded. “So what can I do for you today, my friend?”

  “Well, first off, I need to restock some of my poisons—datura powder, specifically, if you ’ave it.”

  Stix searched the various-sized bottles that sat on shelves lining the walls of the room. He checked some herbs hanging in bunches in another corner, then went to another room where Nester watched him rummage through drawers and storage crates. “You’re in luck, my friend. Still have a little bit left. Don’t get as many travelers transporting them as much these days.”

  “Aye? That’s a soddin’ shame. You’re th’ only one I know who fences th’ good stuff.”

  “Yeah, but things’ll get better again. They always do. So how much you need?”

  “Seven doses’ll do.”

  Stix filled two small pouches with fine, tan-colored powder, secured them with a leather tie and handed them to Nester. “I’ll sell you those for twelve gold.”

  Nester blinked. “T-twelve? You’re no longer givin’ me a discount?”

  Stix rubbed his short spiky hair, making it an amber mess. “That is the discount. I’ve had to raise the prices of the poisons due to the unsteady inflow. I’m sure you understand.”

  “Aye, aye ...” Nester made a sour face.

  “But, we’re friends, eh? If you find me some valuables during your travels, I’ll throw in an extra supply, and we’ll call it even.”

  “Deal.” Nester placed the packets into one of his belt pouches then fished for some coins in his purse to hand to Stix. “I told you I’ll find you stuff, anyway. I just need some time ... an’ a boat.”

  Stix raised his thin eyebrows. “A boat? So that was your other request, I take it?”

  “Aye. My mates and I are tryin’ to get to Ankhram. We’ve got some business over there. I figured you’d be th’ best one to pull th’ right strings an’ find us somethin’ that’ll take us across th’ sea.”

  Stix rubbed his short sideburns as he pondered. “I could get you something, but I’ll need a favor from you, first.”

  Nester groaned. “Aw, c’mon, mate. It’s really important that we get to Ankhram as soon as possible. Can’t it wait till I get back?”

  “I’m afraid it can’t, if you really need that boat. But trust me,”—he smirked—“you’ll like my offer.”

  XIV

  While waiting for Nester to return, Kaijin and the rest of his friends sat ar
ound a large wooden table in the Inn of Good Home, having a meal. Dusk was fast approaching, and the city’s outdoor and indoor activities were coming into full swing, bringing boisterous customers into the inn. Tables and benches had been moved aside to allow more room in the center of the inn. In one corner, a pair of flamboyantly dressed bards played a lively tune on their lute and bansuri, inspiring some of the patrons to get up and dance. Kaijin laughed as he watched some of the dancers trip and stumble, jostle waitresses, and bump into tables.

  Something furry tickled Kaijin’s shin, and he looked under the table at Sable, who was happily indulging in a plate of fish that was almost as big as she was. Nearby, Percival tore greedily at a smaller dish of chicken.

  “I’m surprised Nester’s still not back yet. He seems like the type who wouldn’t miss this kind of entertainment,” Jarial mused, nursing a tankard of mead.

  Omari nearly choked on his stew. “‘Surprised’? Surely, you jest, Master Glace. If that confounded brownie were here, he would only be causing trouble and embarrassing us.”

  “Hmm. Yes, you’re right.” Jarial took a sip, hiding his smile. “But still, the little scoundrel does grow on a person.”

  “He’ll have to come back at some point,” Zarya said. “The waiting list for the next boat to Sinan is four weeks long, so he is just as stuck as we are.”

  Kaijin idly ran his finger along the brim of his cup of barley tea, not paying much attention to his friends. He stared at the ring on his finger and let his mind drift to Ranaiah. But his thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of a spoon plunking in an empty bowl. He shot a sidelong look at Aidan sitting beside him.

  The giant seemed oblivious to the group’s conversation. He rammed bite after bite of his massive meal, enough for ten people, into his mouth—roasted pork, chicken, stew, vegetables, and bread.

  A young elven waitress approached their table, carrying a tray of cups and overflowing tankards that sloshed about. Once she’d served everyone, she sashayed away in time with the happy music.

  Zarya stood up. “Oh, I can’t stand it anymore. Everyone looks like they’re having so much fun. I’m going to dance!”

  Kaijin smiled at her but remained sitting. He took a slow sip from his fresh cup of tea.

  She looked at him hopefully. “Would you like to dance with me, Kaijin?”

  Kaijin averted his eyes to his cup’s contents. “Uh ... No, thanks. I honestly don’t know how to dance. I’ll probably end up stepping on your feet or something.” He looked up at her, smiling apologetically.

  Her eyes dulled. “No, you ... you won’t. Never mind.” She headed into the crowd.

  Kaijin watched her for a moment, then turned away and took a bigger gulp of tea, hiding his frown. I’d rather not go. His thoughts returned to Ranaiah, and he felt a bit less flustered. He glanced across the table at Omari, who smirked at him, and Kaijin wondered if perhaps the other mage had read his mind.

  In a huff, Jarial stood. “You’ve a lot to learn about women, boy. Especially young beautiful ones like her. Never leave them unattended.” He stepped around the table and joined Zarya, who looked surprised for a moment, but then happily took his arm.

  Kaijin blinked at the two of them. Master Jarial? And ... Zarya?

  As Kaijin was trying to comprehend the scene, the waitress returned with another meat dish for Aidan, but the half-Dragon waved her off, indicating his fullness with a pat of his distended belly. She promptly cleared away the empty plates and left.

  A thundering belch came from Aidan, and he covered his mouth, hiding his growing smile. “Pardon,” he muttered.

  Omari arched an eyebrow. “For what? Your belly is full, and you enjoyed your meal, did you not?”

  Aidan wrinkled his brow. “Well, yes, but—”

  “You know, Omari,” Kaijin interjected, “some people do find belching to be obnoxious behavior.”

  “Not so in Ankhram,” Omari said. “It is considered a compliment. But I will tell you what is obnoxious: shaking hands.”

  Kaijin made a face. “What?”

  “I noticed this shaking hands business is most prevalent amongst the elven race. They have such a disgusting way of greeting each other.”

  “I don’t quite understand. What’s wrong with shaking hands? It’s a sign of mutual trust and respect.”

  Omari’s eyes went wide. “Confound it! Do you know how unsanitary it is to shake another person’s hand? Ugh! It makes me want to take a bath, just thinking about it.”

  “So how do the people of Ankhram greet each other?”

  “Simple. We bow.”

  “That was what Aidan did, too, when he lived in monastery,” Aidan said.

  Omari nodded. “Good. So then you understand.”

  Aidan shrugged. “It was one of the rules. The masters would punish us if we did not obey them.”

  “Your masters were wise, Aidan.”

  Kaijin rolled his eyes and turned back to continue watching the dancing. He smiled, watching Jarial and Zarya. Despite the initial oddness, Jarial’s disguise did give the illusion that the two of them could be a fitting couple. Kaijin had never seen his master so spry and lively, and the way he kept in step with the music’s quick tempo was amazing. For so long, Kaijin had only known Jarial to be a stoic man who discouraged fun; that night, however, Jarial acted like an entirely different person.

  I guess I see why he likes staying young all the time.

  Zarya danced as elegantly as she looked. Her perfectly proportioned body flowed like water, and her movements mesmerized him. He knew little about the Celestial race, but assumed they were all like gods and goddesses in everything they did: perfect in every way.

  Occasionally, Zarya glanced over at Kaijin, catching his gaze, but then she would avert her eyes. Sadness still lingered in them, and for a moment, Kaijin thought he saw Ranaiah, instead.

  * * *

  It’s great to be young again, Jarial thought as he twirled with Zarya. Holding her hands, he guided their steps in rhythm with the music. Her hands were soft and gentle and very smooth. Everything about her is completely flawless. He smiled.

  Their eyes met briefly, and Zarya blushed.

  What is she thinking right now? What does she think of me? Jarial tried to hide his worry, but his thoughts went back to five days ago, when she’d seen his face and body as they truly were: wrinkled and ugly. Gods, how could I have been so careless?

  Jarial breathed a sigh of relief when the music began to slow and transition into something more melodic. His youthful disguise gave him the stamina and endurance of a young man for a time, but pushing the illusion too hard was unwise. He was still an old man beneath the glamour, and he had to be careful.

  Zarya released his hand, smiling. “I’m going outside for some fresh air.”

  Jarial watched her head to the door, and then he suddenly realized he was going to be alone again. “Ah ... wait, my dear. Would you like some company?”

  Zarya raised her eyebrows, then nodded once. “Yes, I think I would very much. Thank you.” She turned and exited the inn.

  Before he followed her, Jarial glanced over his shoulder at Kaijin, Omari, and Aidan, who remained at the table, chatting with each other. Sable sat comfortably atop the windowsill near them, watching the inn’s activity.

  Jarial met with Zarya outside in a small courtyard tucked beside the inn. They sat together on a bench under a tree. Jarial didn’t didn’t sit too close to her, as tempted as he was. But even from where she sat, he still caught her alluring scent and inhaled with a smile. “Thank you for that lovely dance, my dear,” he said, breaking the silence.

  She returned the smile, but it faltered, and she looked away.

  With a slight tilt of his head, Jarial reached over and carefully placed his hand over hers. “Your hand is cold. Are you all right?”

  She looked down, but didn’t withdraw her hand. “I’m fine. I’m just ... a little tired from the dancing, it’s all.”

  He gently squeezed he
r hand. “I think not. Please, tell me what ails you.”

  She raised her head slowly. “I ... I should not be feeling this way. But it bothers me. Why does the Goddess allow me to dwell on the past? Is this some sort of test?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She sighed. “I am worried about Kaijin.”

  He sensed she wanted to say more, even though she didn’t. But he already knew. “You must care deeply for him, Zarya. I must admit, I envy him, but I understand. Please rest assured you have nothing to worry about, however, as you are a lady of the Goddess Celestra, and your faith in Her will ensure his safety.” He tenderly brought her hand to his lips, eyes still fixed on hers. He felt his heart pound faster as he did so. “Moreover, it is obvious that Ignis has plans for Kaijin, being that he is a Firebrand.” As he said that, he heard the soft batting of wings above, and spotted Miele hanging from the branches high overhead.

  Zarya’s cheeks went pink, and she pulled her hand away. “Yes, but Ignis is as unpredictable as His element. We can never put our full trust in Him that Kaijin will remain safe.”

  “Of course not, but there is nothing either you or I can do about it, right now.” He looked at her hand, so far from his, and sighed. “I am more worried about you, Zarya. We are all depending on you for your healing and prayers. You must perform your very best.” He stood and turned toward the inn. “I think I am going to retire for the night.” He took a step, but Zarya suddenly grabbed his arm.

  “Jarial ...”

  He paused.

  “Thank you. For listening.”

  He turned to her and smiled. “Of course, my dear. I—”

  The sound of hurried footfalls stopped him. As he looked around, he spotted Nester run past the courtyard’s entrance. Nester backed up and peered into the courtyard at them.

  “Oh! ’Ey! Am I glad to see you two!” the brownie exclaimed, out of breath. “I’ve got some great news!”