by Billy Wong
"Do you think you could get a ship to take us back to Efierd, if it's not too much trouble? Whatever you say, thank you for the welcome you've given us. I've been very happy in your company for these past few days. I wish more people could get to travel and meet good folk like you, so they'd know not to judge any group as one."
He looked pleasantly at her. "Of course I will do it. I will simply arrange for you to travel on a neutral merchant vessel back to your country. I hope you and your friends continue to live happily in the future. Stay strong, Rose!"
They departed with abundant gifts, mostly samplings of the spices which had imbued the food with such wonderful flavors. Standing on the ship's deck, Finn knew he would miss the daily feasts, but looked forward to Rose's cooking just the same.
He had all but forgotten his brief bursts of irrational anger at her, but she hadn't. "What was that back there," she asked as she came to stand by him, "getting all fussy over my stopping you from breaking the duke's wall? It's not like you to be so defensive over little things."
Finn refused to meet her eyes while he shook his head. "It's nothing."
"You can tell me now, or you can put up with me bugging you for the rest of the trip."
He had no desire to reveal his stupid reason for getting angry. Though he knew her to be a forgiving person, he didn't want her to think him as petty as he felt. But he knew she'd wring it out of him sooner or later. "I knew about your conversation with Sumafu, because I followed you. I wanted to make sure he wouldn't try anything with you, since I'd heard about the strangeness of Sevrian hospitality."
"So the first presence I noticed was you, then, and not Sumafu!" Rose's look grew puzzled. "But if you heard us, you know nothing happened. Why would you get mad?"
Finn's shoulders slumped with embarrassment. "I wasn't angry over you talking to him naked. I just felt kind of annoyed that he recognized you for the famous warrior you are, before me. I was just being really stupid, okay? I thought since I killed Wilner, I would finally have the greater name. I'm over it now, can we just forget about it?"
"Same old masculine pride, hmm?" Her voice held no anger, and Finn relaxed. "Don't worry, I understand. We both have pride, and it's natural of us to value it."
#
Derrick watched the lovers indulge in each other's company on the rocky sea, and envied their joy as his nausea-induced misery continued. He had never realized how much he'd hate ocean voyages. But he thought of the sights of Mulhiri and the key they had found to unlocking some treasure of the past, and knew it was all worth it. They arrived back in Efierd without incident, and Derrick kissed the blessed land when he stepped onto the docks. The taste of the sea filled his mouth and he spat repeatedly to clear it, much to his friends' amusement.
That night in the inn, he was sleeping soundly when a loud crash jolted him to wakefulness. The drowsy scholar looked to his window to see a dark-cloaked man on the floor, naked blade in hand. He struggled to rise, tangled in a pile of curtains, and Derrick wondered how he'd blundered so badly. He grabbed up his sword and approached the would-be assassin, who staggered to his feet, still wrapped in colorful window coverings, and lashed out with his shortsword.
Derrick tried to parry the blow, but found he didn't have to as the man's curtain-trapped arm would not extend as far as he intended. The frustrated assassin tried to charge with his sword leveled like a spear, but caught his foot in a curtain and tripped. His jaw hit the wood hard, and the sword went skidding out of his hand. Groggily, he tried to rise, but Derrick was ready and knocked him out with the hilt of his sword.
#
"I'm not saying anything. Morgan told me—uh, I mean, nothing! I didn't say nothing!" Though the assassin still insisted he would say nothing, he had already divulged the who, what, and why of his mission. He was a crewman from the Merry Reaper, sent by Morgan Cross to kill Derrick in revenge for Rose going back on their deal. Why would anyone go so far over such a little thing? Apparently, the female mariner had also tipped the Sevrian navy off to their presence on the Tortoise 3.
Finn was quite angered, but also a bit confused over one small detail. "Why the hell did she send you?! You're the worst assassin I could imagine!"
"I'm very stealthy," the man said in a defensive tone. "I never get caught." Then he looked shamefully at the floor.
Finn stared. He supposed if he'd never gotten caught, he wouldn't have needed to know how to keep his mouth shut. Apparently, this just wasn't his lucky day. But then Finn considered that he might have been chosen because Morgan did not expect Derrick's murderer to live long, and viewed him as particularly expendable. "So what do we do with him? Kill him now or torture him first?"
That got a satisfying round of groveling from the prisoner, who they dropped off at the constables' office before he realized he wasn't going to be executed—by them, anyway. Finn hoped the would-be assassin had some serious outstanding crimes; otherwise, he would only rot in jail for a moderate portion of his remaining life.
The Merry Reaper stood in port in the same place as before, and Finn insisted on heading the incursion onto the ship. Rose obliged, satisfying him with a chance to prove himself a worthy protector of his friends—and her. A hefty push from his mammoth shield put the first two sailors to meet him on their butts, and they ran before Finn could finish them off.
Rose applauded him. "Good, you didn't even have to kill them."
The walk to the captain's room was short and painless, and the door unlocked. But when they opened it, they did not find Morgan. "Looks like she ran away," Rose said. "Guess she knew she couldn't handle us."
Finn kicked a table into the wall in frustration. "That cowardly snake, I hope at least she's learned her lesson about messing with us. I'm of a mind to set this whole ship on fire."
Derrick touched his arm. "There's no need for that. It'll only encourage more violence on their part. Besides, it'll threaten the rest of the docked ships. Let's just go."
Rose didn't immediately agree with the scholar's plan. "Let's search the ship for some clue as to how this crew makes a living, and then decide what to do." A descent into the cargo hold confirmed Finn's suspicions, as they discovered much in the way of chains, manacles, and dried blood.
"So they do trade in slaves," Rose spat, "for at least a good part of their work. I've seen enough. Let's make it hard for these thugs to keep at their cruel trade. After all, they did try to kill Derrick for no good reason. But not with flame, since that could spread to harm innocents close by."
She pulled Wilner's axe off her back, and was about to hew into the hull when Derrick said, "Wait! Should we really do this? This would be some major destruction of property. What if they report us?"
"Derrick, slavery is evil—and illegal. I doubt these criminals would go to the authorities for help."
"I still don't think we should do it. They may be criminals, but I'd bet the authorities here turn a blind eye to that, or else how did they not get caught for so long?"
Rose frowned and said softly, "I think you might be right. Maybe we should just leave." Then there was a loud crunch of breaking planks, and her gaze swung to Finn.
"Oops," he said, standing over a crater gushing water into the hold, "I dropped my mace." He had seen that his soft-hearted love was about to be swayed from her rightful course, and would not allow it to happen.
"What are you doing?" Derrick demanded. "Weren't you lis-"
His words were cut off by another heavy blow which shook the floor and sent water lapping at his feet. "Dropped it again, sorry."
Rose stared a moment at the holes, then shrugged. "Well, too late to stop now," she said casually. "Decision's made for me." She raised her axe and brought it down, joining Finn in his destruction of the slaver ship.
Derrick opened his mouth as if to argue and shut it again. He must have realized it was indeed too late, and words could not undo actions. Rose and Finn bashed a few more holes to hasten the demise of the Reaper, then fled as the black galley disapp
eared beneath the waters.
#
Sometime later, the trio rode into Hullel, Rose and Finn finally back home after their long journey. "Mom! Dad! I missed you!" Rose ran into the welcoming arms of her parents, and Finn hugged Derrick powerfully in the emotion of the moment.
"Ugh, lay off, Finn. You're crushing me. Ah, that's better. I think we should let Rose catch up with her parents, don't you? We can go look at those books while she does." Eager to search for information, Derrick dragged his friend after him to the library. Finn waved to Rose as he left, but she didn't notice, and shook his head at Derrick's impatience.
He'd had a lot of trouble learning more Old Script despite his efforts, so Finn looked for the word "magic" to narrow the search while Derrick shifted more closely through the texts for specifics relating to magically sealed objects. "Here we go, this book talks about all kinds of seals. Unfortunately, there seem to be just as many ways they can be opened. But it does say a common method to do it, was for the touch of an attuned object to unlock a seal. And the magic compass is definitely attuned to the book."
Finn frowned dubiously. "Yeah, but we did try touching it to the book. Nothing happened."
Derrick's eyes sparkled with a flash of insight. "Did we ever try opening the book while the gem was touching it?"
Finn couldn't believe they hadn't thought of it until now, and wondered that they had been thwarted by such a simple detail. "Nope, I guess we were just too busy being afraid of the thing to think of it. Let's try it now."
Deciding he'd be the one to attempt the task, Finn held the Guide to the cover and pulled at it. The book opened without resistance, and to Finn's surprise, he could read the words inside. Though he could not have translated them, somehow he understood how and for what purpose they were to be said, and experimentally began to mutter the first lines he saw.
Derrick stopped him with the shocked question, "You can read the words?! I can't even understand them—they seem not to be Old Script. I think they're written in the language of magic, that we saw before in the archmage's lair."
Finn felt excited and a little scared at the thought that magic was giving the words meaning for him. "I certainly don't know any magic language. Maybe holding the Guide is what's letting me read?" He gave the gem to Derrick, and realized he could still understand the strange writing. A look at the scholar confirmed that Derrick still couldn't, and Finn said jokingly, "Guess I'm just that good!" After a pause, he added more seriously, "Or maybe it's only readable for the first person who opens it?"
"That's our best idea so far, so I'd lean towards it, unless somehow you're uniquely attuned to the magic. I doubt that. Anyway, what's it for?" He sounded very anxious.
Finn made random motions with his hands intended to signify spellcasting. "They're spells. I don't know if I can cast them or if you need special training, but I can definitely read them. This first one, see, summons the tiniest blast of cold, sufficient to make a hot beverage warm. I imagine it can't do too much harm, even if it backfires. So here goes..."
He chanted the ancient words with surprising smoothness, and Derrick commented they sounded like the cries of a baby. Upon finishing, he saw no visible effect, though he felt surprising fatigue. But when Finn touched the bread he'd been pointing at during his babbling, wonder filled his heart. "Look, Derrick, it's cold! I'm a mage! I'm a real mage!" The two looked speechless at one another, stunned into silence by the suddenness and magnitude of their discovery.
They'd been sitting there in shock for the better part of a minute when Rose walked in. "Hey guys, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a dragon!"
Now Derrick found something to say. "Rose, meet the very first mage of the modern world—your favorite guy, Finn!"
Chapter 12
Rose stared at her love, as shocked as she could remember ever being. She had heard the words, but her mind couldn't quite process them into an acceptable meaning. Finally, she blinked and asked, "What?!"
Derrick explained as best he could, though he himself looked bewildered. Rose sat down as her mind strained to accept the idea of Finn as a mage. "So this is it, then? The fruit of all our labors is that Finn rediscovers magic?!"
"Damn right, wench!" Finn seemed quite pleased with the idea he would be the man to bring magic—actual spellcasting rather than just the use of old relics nobody understood—back into the world. Rose imagined he was considering how he'd be glorified in the history books. The bringer of the new golden age? The bringer of enlightenment?
Derrick's voice pulled the lovers back to reality. "You're missing the big picture here. Yes, Finn is the first, to the surprise of all, but there'll be others. What really matters is, spellcasting is alive again, in the hands of regular"—he paused as if considering whether that was the right word—"humans. Once Finn learns a bit more, he can start teaching others, and eventually magic will be a real factor in the world again."
Finn scoffed. "You expect me to settle down in some school and recite spells all day? That's not what I'm built for! It's like telling Rose to be a stay-home housewife, stupid as that was of me! Right, Rose?"
She certainly didn't like the idea of being separated from her beloved Finn, and worried how the widespread use of magic might change the world. "Yes, Finn. Derrick, you know how he loves the freedom to roam everywhere and follow his whims. You can't expect him to be happy cooped up in some school. It'd be torture for him.
"Also, look at what happened to the ancients in the end, to their magical world. Many believe their destruction came about because of abuse of their power. You can't just share such dangerous knowledge carelessly with everyone who wants it. Who knows what they'd do with it? It scares me, it really does..."
"I promise to be careful," Finn reassured her.
"I know you will, but will everyone? No. Magic... I don't know if it's something humans deserve to wield."
"Me neither, but I've got the ability whether it's right or not. Let's just give it a chance, all right?"
Slowly, she nodded, knowing it would be a waste not to at least consider the possibilities magic could offer in the future. Even if it might create more of the same great ills it had in the past, that was something for its wielders to control, and as Finn was its only wielder for now, it was in good hands.
"A chance, yes. Let's do this the right way. Carefully."
Derrick didn't look so pleased, if unsurprised, but then Rose thought him a tad too eager to share everything with the world.
"Isn't it odd I'm getting so weak so fast from this stuff?" Finn asked a bit later, exhausted after trying out a few minor spells. Rose too wondered if magic was supposed to be this taxing. She knew spellcasting always took some toll on the mage, but for as strong a man as Finn was, he looked damn tired.
"You're probably just not used to it, that's all," Derrick said. "It's like wielding a sword. You'll get used to it in time, and it'll come easier. At least, that's what I think." But his voice was none too confident. Seeing how bad Finn looked, Rose suggested he take a break. But his pride won out and he pushed himself to the point where he required the support of Rose's sturdy shoulders to get to bed. She pried the book from his fingers out of concern, and kept it from him until he seemed his usual strong self.
When he opened the book again, he was more cautious of his limits, and no longer exerted himself beyond reasonable tolerance. Though he tried to teach Derrick and the reluctant Rose some of the spells he learned, for some reason they just could not seem to replicate the effects. Weeks passed, and Rose's frustration grew as she noticed Finn spending more and more time in lonely study, and less and less in her arms.
#
Sumafu sat in his library, examining that strange old statue of the man-dragon. Had it really glowed the other day, or had it simply been a trick of the light? Was the color of the granite getting ever so slightly bluer, or had it always had that strange tint? And did it really have fewer cracks than before? He ran his discerning hand over the stone and marveled at it
s contours. He hadn't realized the statue was so detailed in the years he'd had it. Every muscle was shaped so flawlessly, as if by the hand of a god rather than an imperfect human sculptor.
In all his years of admiring wondrous art by geniuses devoted to their craft, he'd never seen such perfect if alien anatomy. Wait, had it blinked at him just now? He looked closely at the glistening orb, and it seemed inert if frighteningly lifelike. Then, there was no mistaking the movement directly in front of his eye. It blinked. Sumafu ran.
The terrified duke could feel the creature step off its pedestal behind him even if he didn't really hear it, the thing being unnaturally silent. He glanced back, and at the sight of its frightening speed realized he had no chance of staying ahead for long. Sumafu pushed his legs as fast as they could go, sprinting a short way faster than he'd known a man could run, and grabbed off his bedroom wall a monstrous crossbow. A gift from a friend, who'd promised it easily capable of punching through steel plate.
He crouched and waited for the abomination, who did not so much break as walk through the door, a mockery of a smile on its visage. Sumafu fired. And watched as the thick bolt snapped against the man-dragon's chest.
Brave man. Why such unprovoked violence, though? Have I raised a hand to harm you? Sumafu heard the words, like rumbling thunder, hammer into his mind. He tried clumsily to load another crossbow bolt. Then the creature was on him, snatching the weapon from his hand with no more effort than a mother taking her finger out of her newborn child's.
You fear me? You have nothing to fear from me. It is the ones who have revived me who I seek. Tell me where they went. I will leave you.
Sumafu stumbled over his thoughts. He didn't want to die. "They--they mentioned they were from Hullel. It's somewhere in central Kayland."
I know not these places. Show me. The creature chanted some strange words, like the babbling of a baby, and put its hand on the duke's trembling head. Ah, I see. Thank you. You have done well, to guide me to that which is mine. Now I will honor my promise to you. You will not die. After all, you are nothing to me. The creature leapt over Sumafu's head and his bed behind him, going out the window. Then it spread leathery wings and flew like a streaking arrow to the east. The stunned nobleman breathed a great sigh of relief then, and fainted.
