Trial by Fire: A LitRPG Dragonrider Adventure (Archemi Online Chronicles Book 2)

by James Osiris Baldwin

  Suri took the Volod’s hand in hers, and for a moment, their eyes met and he smiled at her. She didn’t smile back, but instead pressed his finger against the vellum, rolled it, then lifted it to reveal a perfect print beside the red ink one. It was actually clearer than the one the forger had left.

  “Well, that’s...” she trailed off, pursing her lips.

  “What?” I wandered up, looking down.

  “They look the same,” Suri said. She sounded almost impressed.

  “Not so unique after all, then?” The Volod frowned. “I did not sign this letter.”

  I turned back, and held out a hand. “Here. Give it to me. I’ve got a dragonrider’s eyesight.”

  Suri passed it over. “I hope you see something I don’t, because to be honest with you, I’m kind of stumped.”

  I held the letter up to the lamplight, positioned it until I felt my eyes focus, and then consciously tightened them in. I could see the pores in the calfskin the letter was written on, and after a few seconds, the subtle differences in the fingerprints. They WERE different. The Volod’s was narrower, the spiral at the center tighter, and the forger had a loop at the center that Andrik didn’t. But they were similar fingers. More telling were the little scar-like lines that split off the bigger loops and whorls. They were different.

  “I’m about ninety percent sure these are different prints,” I said, handing it back and closing my eyes before they unfocused too hard, too fast. “They look really different up close. The forger’s thumb is wider, and he has more wear on his hands.”

  “You really expect me to believe that?” The Volod sounded incredulous.

  I opened my eyes and looked right at him, and he must have noticed how inhuman I really looked for the first time, because he flinched back. I focused my pupils past his cheek. “Sire, there’s a nick made by a fingernail on the very edge of that window over there. A depression about an eighth of an inch long. I can see it in about five thousand more colors than you can right now.”

  “This shit must look like an acid trip,” Sui muttered.

  “More like really good mushrooms,” I said. “You get used to it.”

  A small smile lit Andrik’s mouth. He stood and went to examine where I was pointing. And when he found the tiny groove, his smile broadened with approval and curiosity.

  “Impressive,” he murmured. “Well, we have our answer, then. I was not drugged and made to send for a shipment of rubies in my sleep.”

  “Please, Your Majesty. I beg your mercy.” Stefin, who had done his best to fade into the wall while all this was going on, clasped his hands and shook them. “I swear on Khors’ hammer that I thought her to be your genuine emissary, or-”

  “Quiet. I do not wish to hear your begging or your excuses,” Andrik said curtly. “Did you not think it strange that a lone courier would come asking for my rubies?”

  Stefin looked utterly dejected now. “But… She paid with Sathbari gold! N-No one other than you can afford such coin!”

  “We pay with Treasury Promissory notes, and have since my grandfather’s day, you imbecile.” Andrik pinched the fine bridge of his nose, and made a sound of disgust. “It is the middle of the night, and I can no longer think straight. Lazarin, Pan, you will remain here with this man and his family. Stefin, you and your family are under house arrest until I decide what to do with you.”

  Stefin hung his head. “Yes... yes, Your Majesty.”

  “I am disappointed. Get out of my sight.” The Volod flicked a dismissive hand as he got up from the chair, knees cracking. “Hopefully, we will take in Kanzo’s apprentice tonight. This blackmailing nonsense is just that, and I refuse to believe any Mercurion would only work alone or in pairs. They are a clannish species. There will be more of them involved in this conspiracy, I guarantee it. They are all atheists, worshipping only their machines, and they resent the Crown. Not only that, they school like army ants. When one grape goes bad, the whole bunch withers.”

  “Uhh, that...” I replied. Suri shot me a warning look, and I shut my trap.

  “To that end, we will take action to flush out any more co-conspirators,” the Volod sighed. “But I will tell you my plans in private. Come, let us retire. We can only hope we do not rise to find another good man slaughtered in the dead of night.”

  Chapter 22

  I’d hoped to get some time with Karalti and our character sheets when we got back to Vulkan Keep, but no such luck. Andrik ordered his Chamberlain to prepare a late supper for us in his war room. He insisted that all of us, including Karalti, had something to eat, even though we weren’t hungry.

  This led to the awkward situation of having a young adolescent dragon at a table of food she wasn’t interested in. This was a problem. Dragons are intelligent, sentient, carnivorous apex predators. Like all apex predators, they’re assholes to the genetic level - especially when bored.

  “Peanut butter!” Karalti croaked in a raspy, reptilian voice. She sat beside me at the table, wagging her head from side to side as if listening to a song only she could hear. “Peanut butter sausages! Tidbit! Fresh fish, ooohhhaaah! Best fish in Bryos!”

  “Is this… ahh… avian behaviour a common practice of dragonkind?” Andrik was using a gold knife and fork to delicately saw a sandwich into small pieces.

  “She mimics stuff when there’s nothing else to do.” I hunched into my seat as she began to burble like a crowded street. Karalti’s mimicry was like listening to a recording. She could ‘sing’ the multi-layered sounds of a village street with perfect accuracy – cart wheels rumbling, people murmuring, hookwings screeching and yarping.

  “What His Majesty means to say, Karalti, is that you sound like an overgrown parrot.” Suri grinned from across the table. She wasn’t using a knife and fork for her bagel, and neither was I.

  “Look, Tidbit! A whore!” Karalti chirped the words in a disturbingly accurate imitation of my own voice.

  For a moment, Suri looked confused, maybe even offended. But then she seemed to realize it was a joke, and flashed me a small, odd little smile. I elbowed Karalti in the ribs as the dragon narrowed her eyes.

  Andrik pretended not to notice any of it. He gestured at the dragon with his fork. “She can understand us, then? And communicates fluently with you?”

  “Yep.”

  “What does she say?”

  “Tell him I say that he’s a boring meat person and I want to set him on fire.” Karalti hunched, shook her wings out, and then heaved a long-suffering sigh that blew a small vase of flowers over on the table.

  I reached out and put it back. “All sorts of things. She’s very philosophical.”

  “Then why does she not converse?” Andrik gestured to her with one hand. “I can only imagine the contained wisdom in such a creature.”

  Karalti leaned in to carefully sniff at my glass of wine. “Why does this smell like pee?”

  I coughed a little. “Most dragons only speak to their riders, Your Majesty, but they will reach out to others if they need to. They think deeply and say very little.”

  “Oh, I understand that attitude very well myself,” Andrik said, after a bite of food. “I am also inclined to deep thought, especially while immersed in my studies. “I admit I’m curious to talk to her, but it is the privilege of the sacred draak to hold her silence.”

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

  “Why isn’t it the privilege of the sacred draak to get proper tasty fish?” Karalti sniffed my barely-touched bagel for the fifteenth time. “This stuff is weird. Why does it smell burned?”

  “It’s smoked salmon.” I wasn’t a big fan of lox myself – I liked my seafood killed at the table and grilled while it was still twitching. “Just calm the fuck down until this meal is over and done with. You can hunt later.”

  “Can you ask the serving man to bring me some proper fish?” Karalti reached up with an idle claw, and began to slowly bat an expensive-looking porcelain dish toward the edge of the table. I elbowed her again.
/>
  “You can ask him yourself. I’m not your fish-bitch.”

  There was a knock on the door at the other end of the richly appointed war room, and all heads turned as Garen the Kingsguard pushed it open and clanked his way across to us. He marched up close and bent down to whisper in Andrik’s ear. The Volod nodded.

  “Thank you. Please watch the door,” Andrik said.

  Ur Garen saluted and stalked off, his black cloak snapping out behind him.

  The Volod’s handsome face twisted into a scowl. “That was an an update on the Slayer’s accomplice, that apprentice you told us about. Unfortunately, she seems to have escaped. But it is no matter. The Tanner’s District to be closed. My soldiers will ensure she does not escape the ghetto, and I have no doubt the fugitive shall be apprehended once her fellow Mercurions start feeling the pinch in their purses.”

  The wry humor in Suri’s eyes faded. I clamped my own poker face on good and tight.

  “I confess that, on the ride back, I was considering what to do about this mess.” The Volod waved a hand toward the huge map of Taltos on the wall facing me. “These murders are gathering into a dark picture. A Mercurion assassin linked to the court, the intensely personal nature of the theft of my Corvinus Rubies, the mass attack on you, the dragon, and Suri in the middle of the street... I am beginning to suspect that we are not dealing with a single assassin. I believe we are being targeted by a terrorist cell. A Mercurion terrorist cell.”

  “The attack on us by Ilia doesn’t have anything to do with the murders,” I said. “The Knights of Saint Grigori have been trying to get their hands on Karalti ever since we left the Eyrie.”

  “We don’t know that.” Suri crossed her arms, and shot me a thoughtful look.

  “I beg to differ,” Andrik said. He gestured to Karalti. “Your dragon’s blood is almost pure mana. If there is one resource the silverskins covet, it is that. Sang’a, they call it. Mana is what they use to breed as well as create their artifacts. It represents wealth in a way that gold never can. A Mercurion terrorist cell would have everything to gain from capturing Karalti. They’d lock her in a cage and farm her for her blood.”

  Just the suggestion made me sick. “I guess? But the guys that attacked us were Ilian.”

  “They could be hirelings from Ilia who do not care whether the hands giving them money are human or not. In any case, we shall find out tomorrow.” Andrik pushed his plate aside and leaned back, drumming his fingers on his knee. “There is a fundraiser tomorrow night at the Kobayaz Auction House. We’d planned it to raise money and supplies for our troops, but we are now using the event to raise money for the widows and children who have been orphaned by the Slayer. I was scheduled to attend, but my attendance was cancelled after the murder of Brother Orban. However, I am going to reinstate my presence and deploy criers to inform the citizens that I will, in fact, be at Kobayaz tomorrow night. This means that High Forgemaster Agoston Toth, the Voivode Janos Lanz of Czongrad and I shall all be in attendance. The three of us are the most likely targets for the Slayer.”

  “What makes you say that?” I frowned. So did Suri.

  “One moment.” Andrik leaned forward, and picked up a wine jug. He filled Suri’s empty glass, picked it up, and held it out to her. “You are looking dry, my lady.”

  “Uhh… cheers.” Suri accepted the glass awkwardly. She clearly didn’t want it. I felt my hackles lift a bit, and Karalti shifted restlessly as Suri had a small sip.

  “As for what makes me say that we are the most likely targets… well, Toth and I are obvious enough.” Andrik’s gaze lingered on Suri for a moment, before turning to me and Karalti. “As for the duke, Janos Lanz is perhaps the greatest financier of church projects in Vlachia. He has a missionary fire in his belly, a powerful desire to help our people by promoting the Forge Father’s gifts and principles. All three of us in a single location will be a tempting proposition for our terrorists.”

  My P.M. notification icon beeped. It was from Suri. “This is the dumbest shit I ever heard.”

  Yes. Yes, it was. I cleared my throat politely. “Your Majesty, the uh, security logistics are going to be a nightmare. We’re going to be scrambling like-”

  “Like weasels chasing after a rabbit. Yes, but so will our enemies,” the Volod said, smiling from ear to ear. “We are laying out irresistible bait.”

  Suri sighed through her nose. “Yeah, no. Not only is this a huge risk, but more likely than not, the Slayer’ll use the event for cover while he murders someone on the other side of town.”

  “Add me to that chorus of ‘no way’, Your Majesty,” I said.

  Andrik lifted his chin, and his pale eyes turned hard and arrogant. It was an expression I was all too familiar with from my days in the Army. I called it ‘Resting Colonel Face’. “Do either of you have a better idea?”

  “Use a body double,” Suri replied. “Or make an announcement that you want to parlay with the Slayer and will grant him mercy, so that you can lure him out. If he’s being blackmailed-”

  “Even if he were being blackmailed, it is of no consequence to me.” Andrik gripped the arms of his chair. “And I will not show mercy to this silverskin bastard who is slaughtering our sages, philanthropists, and sacred smiths. As for body-doubles, it is unbecoming for a monarch to hide quivering in his palace while his people are being killed. I lead by example. You two shall attend and prowl the crowd, aiding my security and searching for suspicious activity. I will arrange for some suitable disguises.”

  I got a notification, and winced to myself as I pulled it across and confirmed that, yes, really, this was something the game was inflicting on us.

  Quest Update: The Slayer of Taltos

  Volod Andrik Corvinus has concocted what could politely be referred to as a ‘harebrained scheme’ to lure out the Slayer and any of his remaining accomplices with a juicy target: a church fundraiser attended by the people most likely to be the Slayer’s next victims. He insists that you attend the fundraiser and protect him, Voivoide Janos Lanz, and High Forgemaster Agoston Toth.

  Difficulty: Very Hard

  Reward: 50 gold Olbia, 100 EXP, renown, ???.

  Special: You will fail the Slayer of Taltos questline if Andrik is killed. If one or both of the other targets are lost, you will lose all rewards and lose -50 Renown in Vlachia (max -100).

  “Christ on a crutch,” Suri muttered. “Look, no. I’m not wearing a stupid disguise for this stupid fucking quest.”

  Andrik blinked several times. “Such foul language from such a lovely mouth is somewhat unbecoming of a lady of your beauty, Suri. I believe I just told you how the plan will go ahead.”

  Suri got the same look I often saw on Cutthroat’s face just before she got ready to murder someone. She put her hands against the table, leaning forward as she stood up. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, you can take your lady-this and lovely-that and go bugger yourself with it.”

  The Volod turned white, then red as he glanced down at Suri’s cleavage. I had to choke myself on my own tongue to stop from laughing.

  “Why do human men get so funny over those bouncy things?” Karalti asked me.

  I patted her on the leg. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

  Suri straightened up, hands on hips. “No. If I have to do this, I’m not dressing up like some fucking castle stormtrooper, okay? We want these guys to think we’re letting our guards down, right? Fuck incognito. Let those town criers know that the Starborn who are going to stop the Slayer are in attendance. Make us part of the show. Hector’s holy fuckin’ dragon will be there. I’ll be there in a dress. He’ll be there in a doublet and hose, or whatever the fuck he wants to wear.”

  “In your dreams,” I said, grinning at her across the table.

  She wrinkled her nose at me. “Nightmares, more like it. Point being, that if we look like we’re there to party, then Kanzo’s gonna be more likely to act. If we’re not there because we’re disguised or whatever, that raises a big red flag over
the whole thing. Now, speaking of dresses, Your Majesty needs to pay up for tonight. We went with you to Stefin’s.”

  “Fair enough. The lady speaks true.” The Volod held up a hand and concentrated.

  [You and Karalti have each received 75 EXP!]

  [You have received 50 gold Olbia!]

  “That amount ought to provide for you,” he said. “You have tomorrow morning and afternoon to ready yourselves. Be at Kobayaz by six p.m., and make sure that you are prepared. I don’t think our terrorists will pass up the opportunity to cause mayhem.”

  Resigned to my fate, I swiped the quest update back into the minimized HUD. Given this was a videogame and Andrik was our key NPC, he was probably right.

  Chapter 23

  A servant led Karalti and I to our rooms in the Keep after dinner, navigating us through spacious marble hallways to a pair of wooden double doors. He opened them ahead of us. “Your rooms, honored guests. The staff took the liberty of arranging food for Her Holiness.”

  “Thanks.” I was getting ready to tip him, but he glided away in a swish of silk and leather.

  “Guess they pay well here.” I let out a tense breath. “Come on, Tidbit. Let’s go-”

  “I smell meat!” My dragon rammed me into the doorjamb, crushing the air out of my lungs as she squeezed in past me. “Meat meat meat!”

  The room was panelled in dark wood, lit by tassel-edged gas lamps that wouldn’t have been out of place in Victorian Britain. The suite had a regal air, with a smoky, old-books-and-tobacco smell currently overridden by the stench of blood. The servants who’d prepared the room left us a huge silver platter on a round wooden table. A freshly-killed doe lay there, her tongue hanging loose.

  “Yeah! Real food!” Karalti bounded across, snatched the doe by the neck, and dragged the corpse to the ground. The silver plate slid off and clanged to the floor with an ear-splitting clatter.

  “Just keep it off the carpets, you little psycho.” Wincing, I shucked my pack off and went to check the rest of the place out.