by Logan Jacobs
The winged-woman didn’t respond as she stared up at me with flushed cheeks and wide red-amber eyes.
Then I sent her a reassuring smile and turned to leave the ivy-covered room.
Chapter 17
I only paused long enough to let Mazne know my meeting with the assassins was cancelled until further notice, and then I left the estate and swiftly made my way to the alchemist’s shop.
I wished I could have stayed with Cinis longer, but I knew that duty called, and the fate of my estate and the kingdom was resting upon my shoulders.
Luckily, my fiery time with the Ember Priestess had left me feeling more invigorated than ever, and determination buzzed in my veins as I scanned the horizons for more shafts of demonic smoke.
It looked like Ocadia and the Forest of Hud were still holding out, but a few fires gleamed right at the tree line now. The smoke was even thicker above the spires and rooftops, too, and the reddish tinge from new flames glowed against the blanket of black.
From what I could tell, the magical estates were finally taking action against the flames, and it looked like most of the non-magical citizens had started to hole up in their homes.
The avenues were less crowded with frantic masses, and I set off down the street with long strides while my crossbow clunked against my back under my cloak.
As I walked, I worked to piece together the situation as a whole in my mind, but after speaking with Cinis, I felt surer than ever that I’d finally solved the case.
And more than that, I was beginning to see the broader picture more clearly.
The duke who had hired our services would have been stewing over the idea for a while. Master Abbot told me the dragonkin had not only killed fourteen of his elven servants a few days prior to the assassination, but also left part of his kitchen staff half-eaten in the forest long before that. A portion of the dead elves made up an entire family, and with a loss like that on his hands, the duke would have had a lot to answer for.
And what did he say?
Did he tell his subordinates and neighbors that he would simply sort out the situation, or did he admit he had plans to hire someone and see the matter dealt with once and for all?
There were hundreds of assassin estates in the kingdom, but only a dozen or so organizations in Ocadia could handle a job like this. Knowing it was a duke who had the most trouble with the dragonkin, the choice would probably be clear.
A man of his stature couldn’t afford to slander his name with a botched job, and only the best and most elite estate would be hired for this task.
Ours.
Master Abbot had been the sole owner of the most reputable Assassins’ Estate in Ocadia, and he was the man who ensured all jobs were completed no matter who hired us, or how vicious our targets were.
Then there was the likelihood of the duke or duchess voicing their anger about the neighboring dragonkin to their friends, family, or acquaintances. Very few people had the fortitude to remain discreet when their emotions were running high, and anyone could have overheard anything about their intentions.
Including a secretive necromancer who either lived in or visited the area without anyone realizing.
But the necromancer would reveal herself too easily if she enacted her revenge on a prominent duke and duchess of Ocadia. The crime would be too easy to solve. The fact that I still lived solidified my belief that I was not seen or tracked from the scene of the crime, so there was only one other person she could punish for her loss.
Master Abbot had paid the price for the job he’d assigned to me, and now, I would do exactly as he said I always should in this business.
I would ensure justice on his behalf because he had no means of gaining justice himself.
I merged with the crowds and headed toward the alchemist’s shop as I neared the town centre, and I eyed up the different magical estates running to take action against the fires.
Wind elementalists commanded the breeze and flung it over in the direction of the largest shafts of smoke, and warlocks pounded their staves on the ground and hollered at the smoke. The combined effort managed to clear the demonic faces for about a minute at a time, and the screams of the smoke died away and came back over and over again.
The water elementalists worked alongside them to try and snuff out the embers, but the blaze was persistent, and dozens of little sylphs took to the skies and told the others where the fires needed the most water.
For now, it looked as though some of the competing estates were working together to contain the fires, and I hoped this comradery would hold out when Ignis inevitably descended.
I stormed past the town centre and the derelict stalls where I used to get my fruit. It was disappointing to see everything abandoned, but I tried to not pay it too much mind. I knew that within a few days, everything would be back to normal again.
At least, I hoped it would.
When I arrived at Xerzor’s shop, I peered through the window and saw the old alchemist hunched over his same bench and messing with a concoction. Xerzor shuffled back and forth along the shelves behind him, and he picked off vials as he went while he nodded here and there and smiled a little.
I smiled as well because, throughout all the turmoil of the day, the alchemist seemed to have stayed completely sane, and it was refreshing to see some normality. I knocked on the door a couple times, and before waiting for a response, I let myself in.
“Greetings, Xerzor,” I said as I entered.
“Ah, Dex,” he returned without needing to look up. “I must admit that I thought you were going to be here a bit later.”
“Do you need me to come back?” I asked before I could even shut the door behind me.
“No,” he replied. “It’s all almost done for you, but I just thought you would have been preoccupied with other things. I heard the news of Master Abbot.”
The alchemist looked up with a mournful expression, but neither of us spoke. He’d known Master Abbot for many years longer than I had, and I could understand his pain as well as his frankness.
The old alchemist simply drew a deep breath and nodded once, and I nodded back.
“Incrassatum stopped by and told me you have been instated as the new Master of the Assassins’ Estate,” Xerzor said in a gruff voice. “You’ll honor his work, you know.”
“I endeavor to,” I assured the alchemist, but then his expression darkened uncharacteristically.
“And you will see the proper measures have been taken on the Master’s behalf?” he asked.
I grinned a little. “Already addressing the situation.”
“Good lad,” he replied with a nod. Then his expression lightened as he continued his work on the bench. “I imagine you’ve been grappling with all manner of difficult tasks today?”
I instantly thought about Cinis’ slender neck in my grip and the heat in her eyes as I poured my seed into her spasming body. The timbre in her voice when she told me I handled her just right still brought a shiver to my spine, but I resisted the urge to boast about bedding the most fiery and alluring woman I’d ever laid eyes on.
There were prominent tasks at hand today.
“Only a few.” I smirked. “I think I’ve done alright addressing them all, though. Where’s the druid?”
“He woke up,” Xerzor informed me. “Not long ago, actually.”
“And what happened?” I asked with genuine interest.
“He asked where he was, of course,” the alchemist chuckled. “I told him he was in the town centre, and then he told me the last thing he remembered was that he was going to the king’s castle.”
“Did he mention seeing me?” I inquired. “Or rather, the kid I was mirroring?”
“Not at all.” The alchemist smiled. “He didn’t even remember anything about the fires, so you can imagine the shock when I told him. Anyway, I told him I found him on the ground on one of the main paths by here and took him in until he felt better.”
“Excellent,” I snickered.
“I understand,” I assured him, and I waited patiently while I watched the alchemist work.
Even though I wasn’t really feeling patient.
I was still jittery with energy, and my determination to continue with my tasks buzzed beneath the surface of my skin and in my brain. I tried to focus my attention on counting down from two minutes, but when that didn’t work, I indulged myself in thinking of my time with Cinis, instead.
It had been ages since I allowed myself to enjoy the softer comforts in life, but Cinis was so much more than just soft. She was feisty, fiery, and made like a goddess, and just thinking of the way she’d shook from the power of my thrusts made me warm all over again.
The warmth was distinct, though, and it felt exactly like her powers had when they radiated in my body. I wondered if the heat of the descendant would stay with me forever now, but I also wondered if Cinis would be waiting for me in my bed when I got home.
I’d never allowed the women I slept with to come to my estate before, and I certainly never saw any of them more than once to avoid endangering them. I’d kept my true identity completely secret with all of them, but Cinis was different. She knew my job, and she knew of my powers, and this only made it more dangerous to keep her around.
If Master Abbot had ever kept a lover around, she could have ended up the one dead over the dragonkin instead, and I knew keeping Cinis around posed the same problem.
Still, I couldn’t help hoping she’d be waiting with her leather straps still clinging to her creamy thighs, and the truth was, I wanted to have her again and again, no matter the risks.
I hadn’t felt that way about any woman, ever, and when she hinted that she wanted my child, the thought excited me more than I expected.
Everything had changed within a day.
“Okay,” the alchemist hummed and shook me from my thoughts.
He started to fold his ground up herbs and spices into a thin, white cotton bag, and he tied it at the top with some dried-out lavender. Then he placed the rest of the vials back on the shelves behind him, and he stooped to put the mixture underneath the bench. After stooping for a few seconds, he straightened up and had a small bucket in his hand, and I furrowed my brow at the sight.
It wasn’t a regular bucket made from tin, it actually looked like it had been crafted from solid marble, and it was as small as my fist. It had amethyst speckles running through the sides and over the handle, and it was extremely showy for an alchemist like Xerzor.
“Wha--” I started.
“It’s like this because all the other materials would have melted in an instant,” the alchemist told me and placed the fancy bucket onto the desk. “But don’t worry, I won’t make you walk all over Ocadia with a bedazzled bucket today. Come closer, Dex.”
I leaned across the bench to look at the concoction, but it was completely sealed with a lid made from the same material as the rest of the bucket.
“I have to warn you, the smell is horrid,” the alchemist informed me. “Steel yourself.”
“I can do that,” I assured him.
“Good.” Xerzor nodded.
Then he reached under the desk, and he pulled out three little canisters. They were made from the exact same material as the bucket, and they looked small enough to sit in the palm of my hand.
“You mentioned arrows earlier,” the alchemist said. “Are you still intending to use these as your weapon against the titan?”
“I am,” I replied. “I have five bolts.”
Xerzor nodded again and took one of the canisters off the table to put it away, and once he had the last two in a row in front of him, he opened the lids. Then he pulled out a small and gem-crusted ladle, took a deep breath, and grimaced.
“Here we go,” the alchemist muttered.
I darted my eyes to the bucket that held the powerful brew Xerzor had prepared.
The alchemist carefully pulled back the heavy lid, and suddenly, a thin wisp of smoke exited. It only took a few seconds before the smell of the concoction permeated the room, and it smelled like the air had been electrified with sharp and sparkling scents. The smell bit at my nose and made my eyes sting, and it suddenly became difficult to think clearly as the scent overran my other senses.
I held my breath and peered into the bucket, but to my surprise the all-powerful brew was simply a translucent shade of light teal. It was the most unassuming magical poison I’d ever laid eyes on, and I decided this only made it more dangerous.
I’d drunken liters of sylph rum that was the exact same color, but with a much less offensive odor.
Xerzor took the ladle and started to carefully pour the liquid into one of the small canisters, and then he filled the second before quickly sealing each one. As soon as he finished, he put the lid back on the bucket, and the smell instantly disappeared.
“In no circumstances should you take the lids off these canisters unless it is absolutely necessary,” he told me and handed over the components.
“I won’t,” I confirmed. “Are they safe in my pockets, or do I have to store them more carefully than that?”
“They are safe, almost indestructible,” the alchemist returned. “But always remember they’re there, if they get into the wrong hands then chaos would arise.”
“I understand,” I said. “You mentioned the kingdom would be destroyed, yes?”
“Oh, no, that risk is behind us as of those two minutes of silence I asked for,” Xerzor assured me. “If I had made a mistake during that step, well… let’s just be glad I didn’t. Eh?”
My eyes widened as I realized my moments spent thinking about Cinis could have been the last any of us ever lived through, but I nodded as calmly as possible.
“I see,” I muttered.
“Moving forward, you must remain extremely cautious,” he continued in a grave voice. “This concoction is only, and I mean only, to be used on the fire titan. It’s brewed specifically with them in mind. If anyone else comes in contact with the liquid in any way, it would certainly have a different effect, and it would be detrimental.”
“Detrimental how?” I asked with intrigue.
“It is a most dangerous, corrosive substance,” the alchemist explained. “If you so much as brush even a drop against your skin, then the layers would corrode, leaving just the bone left, almost as if your flesh were disintegrating.”
“Sounds awful,” I groaned.
“Worse than that still,” he leaned closer. “The corroding process takes up to ten hours, and the liquid can’t be washed off. For as long as it takes for the brew to burn away your skin, you will feel it eating through you.”
“What happens if it’s more than a drop?” I clarified.
“Well, it would corrode straight through the bones.” Xerzor grimaced.
“So, I’ll make sure I don’t touch it,” I decided.
“Or give it to anyone else,” he pressed. “Promise?”
“I promise,” I said and whisked the items into my pockets.
“And lastly,” the alchemist said and placed a hand on my arm. “You must never lose it, and if you miss, you have to make sure that it doesn’t go into another target, okay? Keep an eye around the area before firing--”
“One shot kill,” I scoffed. “I never miss.”
“Sure, sure,” he returned. “But you have to know these things, especially when you’re dealing with probably the most toxic mixture that has ever been created in the land of Ocadia.”
“I understand the risks,” I told him in earnest.
“Then good luck, Dex,” Xerzor sighed. “As always, be careful.”
“I always am,” I chuckled, and I headed out the door.
My nose still burned from the potent elixir, so the smoke outside wasn’t nearly so bad after that, and I headed along the streets as I prepared for my next task.
I needed to reach the northwest quarter as quickly as possible, but water salamanders didn’t swim in those canals. Luckily, the work of the magical estates meant the crowds were much thinner, and the streets were much easier to navigate. I saw several large carts and carriages transporting some magical groups to other portions of the city, and I jogged down the street while I eyed a rattling cart filled with sorcerers.
Then I ran toward the cart, and I didn’t hesitate to jump up and climb in as soon as I reached it. I came face to face with five sorcerers all looking at me as if I had gone crazy, and I smiled at them, quickly sat down on the edge of the cart, and watched the dust flick up from the wheels.
“Just need a short ride, if you don’t mind,” I muttered.
“Hmm…” a sorcerer grumbled.
“So, what are you going to do for the city?” I asked the men without looking over my shoulder. “I heard the estates are going to save us all.”
“We will do all we can,” a man said in a stiff tone.
He didn’t have an inviting voice, but I didn’t expect much considering a stranger had just hopped onto their wagon. If anything, I was just happy they didn’t kick me off. They probably would have if they knew I was a mage, but since I didn’t wear the garb of a competing estate, I could pretend to be a humble human among them.
“Well, we’re all grateful for your efforts,” I assured them.
“As you should be,” one of them sneered, and I rolled my eyes.
The air blew my hair off my forehead while the jostling of the cart pushed my body from left to right, and I bounced up and down on the bumpy road.
I saw some humans on my travels who looked noticeably more stressed than the rest of the citizens, but off in the distance, griffons were swooping low above the Forest of Hud and dumping bucketfuls of water from the sky.
The dragons were still flying circles below the thickest layers of smoke, and a whole tribe of mages were gathered on the road to my left.
They had their hands pressed firm against the street while their eyes remained shut, and beyond them, I saw the burning tree line begin to move. Then I realized they were trying to churn up the dirt to smother the fire, and Hud was actually letting them.
