Fire Mage

by John Forrester

  The first mate frowned. “The need is great, so we set sail to Seraka at dawn tomorrow. You’ll work hard, the wages poor, the food awful…but if you’ve never seen her before, seen the ancient Isle of Lorello…there’s gold in that view. Can’t ye see her vibrant jungles and flaming mountains and mysterious ruins? Ah, the life of a sailor…wouldn’t trade it for all the salt in the world.”

  “Then you have room for the four of us?”

  “Four?” The man looked puzzled, though in a pleased sort of way.

  “Well do you?”

  “I’ll bring the Captain’s decision…to your?”

  “Inn…The Rusty Harpoon.”

  “Of course, of course you’d be staying there.” The first mate grinned crookedly, and slipped down the alley, disappearing into the shadows.

  Nikulo stumbled into their room past midnight, so drunk he hit his head on the bedpost, then bowed, and apologized for his clumsiness.

  “What happened to you?” Mara rubbed her eyes. “And where is Rikar?”

  “I last saw my old traitorous friend trying to convince a young maid he was a prince…she didn’t believe him.“

  “He is a prince.”

  “That’s the funny part. A prince who looks more like a minstrel, a wanton one at that.”

  Mara chuckled. “Rikar can’t sing his own name. Which tavern did you last see our old friend?”

  “The Suckling Pig…surrounded by new friends with a taste for ale.”

  “And silver…”

  “Nay, always the ale that the silver buys.” Nikulo burped, slapping his chest and puffing out his cheeks. “Whew, I’d better lie down.”

  “Did you find those rare ingredients?”

  Nikulo hiccupped. “Success!” he said, then rolled over, and started snoring.

  “Shall we go fetch him?” Mara studied Talis, her face disgusted and resigned at the same time.

  “I don’t see why we should…”

  The Suckling Pig reeked of vomit and smoke and sweat. It was the filthiest and most crowded tavern Talis had ever seen. There was an enormous round table in the center of the room and Rikar sat at the far end, shaking dice in an ivory cup.

  “The gods be pleased, roll sevens!” A girl, maybe fifteen, jumped up and down, screeching, not minding her state of undress.

  The table roared. Sevens… Rikar scooped up a pile of coins, grunted, and destroyed another mug of ale.

  “Oy!” Mara shouted. “Time to go, we’ve found a ship.”

  Rikar raised his eyes, as if annoyed at hearing her voice. “Can’t you see I’m winning here?”

  “You’ll end up losing, in the end, whether to the dice or to these…ladies.” Talis sneered at Rikar. For all his noble upbringing, Rikar showed himself now as the fool he was. First Nikulo and now this. Even if the Captain let them on as crew, he couldn’t see how he’d manage to wake them up in time.

  After Rikar sighed, he stuffed the coins into his purse and rose, shaking off the girl who’d clung to his arm. “The night is over…dawn awaits. Lead on, my prudish friends, may your steps be difficult, and the sinkholes you step in rancid.” For some reason he laughed to himself, as if caught up in some joke of his own.

  At the door, someone grabbed Talis’s arm. He spun around, and frowned at the first mate.

  “Ye said the Rusty Harpoon…this isn’t the place…”

  “Powers of observation.” Rikar scoffed.

  “This another of your friends? Tell him to mind his tongue tomorrow morning. Drunk as he is…good luck getting him up. Try a bucket of cold fish…that always does the trick.” The first mate tapped his finger on Talis’s chest. “First light or we sail without you. Not that the Captain cares, mind you. We sail on the finest ship in the harbor, The Bounty of the Sea. Eighteen canons, seven masts—”

  “And a blathering fool that talks too much.” Rikar farted, walked past the man, waving the smell in his direction. “I need to water the sea.”

  Talis chased after Rikar, who shambled his way towards the docks. As Rikar relieved himself into the water, Talis yanked back on his shirt to keep him from falling in. Why he was helping him? Maybe he felt sorry for the fool. Maybe he knew they’d need him in the days to come. Whatever the reason, Talis and Mara guided Rikar back to the room and shoved him into bed.

  The innkeeper woke them before dawn as promised. Nikulo had a long river of drool spilling out of his snoring mouth. Rikar was curled into a ball, shivering and mumbling from a bad dream. Talis and Mara stared at them, chuckling. A perfect pair of clowns.

  Without time for breakfast, they all headed down to the docks. Nikulo stumbled along, wincing, pulling his hair from a bad headache.

  “Never again,” he said. “I don’t know what that bartender put in the drinks…something funny going on in his brew.”

  “With any luck we’ll be back again for more.” Rikar took a deep breath. “Just what I need, a good sea breeze to keep my spirits up.”

  “And rolling waves to have you barfing up yesterday’s meal.” Mara pointed at the seagulls kicking around in the sea. “They’ll appreciate it.”

  “Don’t even mention it.” Rikar placed a hand on his stomach. “The world is still spinning.”

  The first mate ambled up to them, chewing on a fat cigar. “The worst bunch of motley vagabonds I’ve ever seen. I’m certain you’ve never even set foot on a ship…well, you’ll learn soon enough…if the food doesn’t kill you first. Hey you, fatty, you’re looking kind of sick. Is he alright?”

  “The sight of your face is making me ill…apologies for whatever my mouth gushes forth.”

  “I like him…there’s salt in that fatted pork. A good choice letting you on after all. Get on up the gangplank and keep your mouths’ shut.”

  Talis stared up at the bow of the largest galley in the docks. A goddess kept watch over her direction, painted in silver and gold and black. Her long flowing golden hair swept down along the sides of the ship, as if the wind might lift her up into the sky. The Bounty of the Sea. Her name made him hungry.

  They sauntered up the plank, unable to avoid the leering eyes of the crew.

  “Make yerself at home,” a midget of a sailor said, gesturing towards a rail.

  A deep, booming horn sounded, announcing their departure. The crew raised the gangplank and pulled the anchor in. At the docks a horde of cats ran by, as if expecting a fresh new load from the sea. The galley shuddered as the sails popped, taking ahold of a cold, morning breeze. Soon they were out past the docks, navigating through the winding harbor and out into the vast, blue sea.

  For the first time since their journey started, Talis felt hope surging inside his heart. They’d finally found a ship to the island of their destination. The Surineda Map had been true, the words of the hero true; out on that island lay the promise of a power so strong, they might actually have a chance of saving their city.

  If they could survive the dark journey ahead.

  # # #

  About the author:

  John Forrester is the author of Fire Mage and Sun Mage of the Blacklight Chronicles fantasy series. He lives in Palo Alto with his wife and two boys. When not practicing at the archery range in the mountains, he's furiously at work on Shadow Mage, third book in the series.

  Facebook:

  http://www.facebook.com/fire.mage.book/

  My website:

  http://www.blacklightchronicles.com/

  Bonus Preview! Sun Mage, Book Two in the Blacklight Chronicles series (now available):

  Chapter 1

  The first mate waddled up to Talis, grinning wolfishly. “Enjoying the voyage? It’s quite a view, to watch the continent slowly slip away. Like your freedom… Take a good look, it’ll be your last view topside the whole trip.”

  Talis whirled around, gripping his sword, but Mara whispered for him to stop. All around the deck hands lumbered towards them with brutal, leering eyes.

  “Go ahead…fight me.” The first mate pinched up his face into a h
ideous smile. “The person who raises his sword…he dies, painfully… Now think about it, would you rather die than be sold into slavery?”

  As Talis glanced around, he knew the odds were vastly against them, so he lowered his sword in defeat. They’d been tricked and sold into slavery. Talis stared at the land fading from view and felt a sudden trembling possess his arms. Would he ever see his home again? Now Mara, Nikulo, Rikar and he were also trapped, sold to a life of slavery in the City of Seraka.

  Mara glanced at him as if to say, You couldn’t have known. She reached out and held his hand.

  “You seriously made us pay for passage and sold us as slaves?” Rikar glared at the first mate.

  The man grunted. “You offered me coin. How could I refuse?” The row of gold teeth displayed from his smile gleamed in the fading light.

  “At least offer us the dignity of bribing our way out of slavery.” Nikulo hefted his coin purse.

  “You’re in no position to bargain, lardy.” The first mate scooped up the purse from Nikulo’s hand. “Consider it a double bounty. We get your money and valuables, and collect the per-head price from Seraka’s slavers.”

  “You’ll get what you deserve…” Talis wanted to kill him.

  The first mate whistled, and a fat sailor with beady eyes and grimy hands waddled towards Talis.

  “Hand over your stuff. And please…put up a fight.” The man hissed out a laugh. His mouth smelled like garlic and ale.

  Talis raised his hands in supplication, but the sailor’s hairy knuckles slammed into his stomach and pain shot through Talis’s belly. The sailor chuckled and smacked his lips in satisfaction.

  The first mate scowled. “Manef, just search him.”

  Manef stepped close and grabbed Talis’s fire sword. He hooted as he stared at it.

  “Well look here…this will fetch a pretty penny.”

  “Give it back…“ Talis clenched his fingers into a fist.

  When Manef saw Talis’s reaction, he kicked Talis away. Talis felt a fire broiling along the back of his neck. They stole his sword. The sword father had given him.

  “Do you really want to make it hard on yourself?”

  “Just do as he says.” Mara put her arm in front of Talis.

  “Listen to your friend. Your life is worth more than meager possessions.” The first mate stared greedily at the sword. “Now search them all…take their weapons…anything that looks valuable.”

  Manef took Mara’s daggers, Rikar’s sword, and Nikulo handed over his sword voluntarily.

  “What’s this?” Manef grunted, staring into Nikulo’s backpack.

  “Medicine.” Nikulo retrieved several vials. “Would you like to try some?” He smiled, but Talis caught a devilish glint in his eyes. Poison. The vials were filled Nikulo’s latest concoction.

  “What do I need with medicine.” Manef waved the pack away.

  The first mate shoved them below deck and led them to a tiny room. He pushed them inside and slammed the door. Their dark, cramped cell at least had a small porthole where they could stare at the endless, blue ocean. Talis stared out over the vast blue ocean, wondering what lay ahead at the Island of Lorello.

  “Can we fight them?” Talis said.

  Rikar shook his head. “Not if you want to live. I think a few of the men onboard are sorcerers. Many armed guards. They’re fully prepared for a fight.”

  “So what then?” Nikulo held his breath.

  “We wait. And keep your tempers calm.” Mara glanced at each of them. “I’m sure the right opportunity will come along once we reach the island.”

  “What if Seraka is more heavily guarded than the ship? What then?” Talis said.

  “Mara is right.” Nikulo raised his hands in a gesture of defeat. “Our destination is the inland part of Lorello. Let’s bide our time until we see what fate brings us.”

  “You fools wait for a deadly fate.” Rikar scoffed. “I’ll plan our escape.”

  As promised, the food was terrible. Slop that smelled like pig’s gruel. Rikar and Nikulo turned violently ill. And the smell only made Talis and Mara sick as well. There were storms that shook the ship for days. Lightning blasts that raged across the feverish sea. Talis was sure they were doomed and would sink to the bottom of the ocean. Maybe Rikar would find his father in the Underworld sooner than he’d expected.

  After a week passed, the storm broke and sunlight knifed through thick dark clouds, illuminating the emerald hues and brilliant whitecaps. Then the birds came: first a lone albatross, then a line of pelicans and red-billed tropicbirds.

  “Land-ho!” a sailor shouted above.

  After several hours, the ship turned. Talis strained his eyes. He glimpsed the island at last. A jagged coastline, rows of rocky cliffs. Then dense, lush jungle reached down to the sea. Golden hills high above led up to an enormous range of volcanic mountains. The Island of Lorello was beautiful and ominous at the same time.

  They followed the coast, sailing in-between tall granite spires jutting out of the ocean. Hundreds of dolphins leapt out of the water, laughing and chattering. The ship raised and pounded down. Talis tensed, clenching the window as his heart went wild.

  “Move.” Mara pushed Talis aside. “You’re hogging the view.”

  He chuckled as she pushed a crate against the wall and gazed outside. “It doesn’t look that bad.”

  “Not that we’ll ever see the light of day.” Nikulo frowned. “Trapped inside slave’s quarters.”

  “Speak for yourself. I don’t plan on sticking around very long. If we’re smart, we’ll break out sooner than they know we’re here.” Rikar inspected the door.

  “It would have been nice if someone had discovered that Seraka was a slave colony,” Mara said.

  “And spoil all the fun?” Nikulo made a fake laugh. “I imagine that’s a secret they’d like to keep safe.”

  “What about your master…Aurellia…didn’t he mention anything to you?” Talis stared at Rikar.

  He sighed. “He only commanded me to Lorello.”

  “To Darkov you mean,” Talis said. “Maybe when we get to Seraka they’ll let you free…and keep us as slaves.”

  Rikar shook his head. “I didn’t know anything about this…I swear.”

  After several hours, the ship slowed, and the sky outside had faded to deep crimson wash. The air had changed, filled with a toxic humidity. Smoke choked the air. Seraka was a wasteland of huts and tents and buildings surrounded by tall wooden walls. A stone fortress and castle to the left overlooked the docks. It reeked of human misery and greed. Talis could see slaves being unloaded from several ships, slaves of all races. Off in the distance, smoke wafted from the jungle.

  “So what’s your plan of escape?” Mara said. “There are so many layers of guards and fences.”

  “If we can get past the guard posts. Look...” Talis pointed at the docks. “Bands of soldiers. I don’t see many free men lingering around the harbor.”

  “They’d brand the slaves with a mark.” Rikar twirled a dagger he’d hidden inside his boot.

  “Let’s make sure we break out before that happens.” Nikulo rubbed his arm.

  At last the ship came to a halt. A booming voice echoed over the docks, barking orders to the crew. Talis pulled away from the window. He expected them to come barging in at any minute, but instead they waited for hours, until the last noises had faded away.

  “Have they forgotten about us?” Mara peered out the porthole. “It’s twilight already. The docks are mostly empty. So strange. Why would they leave us here?”

  “Let me see,” Talis said. After awhile, a group of guards wearing silver armor and red-plumed helms came marching along the docks, then turned and strode towards the ship. “Here they come.”

  Chapter 2

  Talis stared at the twelve soldiers stomping up the gangplank. They’d sent enough to deal with any trouble.

  “If you have a plan,” Nikulo said to Rikar, “you better tell us before they come.”


  “It didn’t involve fighting…instead, disguising ourselves...”

  Nikulo raised an eyebrow. “That might just work. Keep your eyes open for people who move around freely.”

  Keys jingled outside and the door banged opened. A fat, bald guard with dozens of gold earrings stared at them with an expression like he’d rather be home sleeping. His meaty hands held twin short swords, crossed over his bare chest.

  “Keep quiet and follow close…you won’t like the alternative.”

  They followed the guards. Talis staying close to the back. One of the guards eyed Talis, grunted, and flanked behind as they descended down the gangplank.

  The docks had cleared out except for a mangy rat that scurried into a maze of barrels and crates. They knocked on a gate past an empty tavern, and a sleepy-eyed guard opened a peephole, nodded and let them in. Talis expected slaves quarters, but instead they entered a lush, tropical garden that surrounded a stone castle complete with a jutting tower and many turrets.

  To the rear of the castle, surrounded by a stone wall, was a connected palace with gold trim banding underneath the roofline. The guards unlocked a low, round door, and they forked their way inside the palace through dimly lit narrow passages until they entered a muggy kitchen.

  The bald guard bowed to an older woman dressed in a black apron. She ignored the guards, and instead studied Talis, Mara, Nikulo, and Rikar with a critical eye.

  “What makes you think these are any better than the rest?” She lifted Mara’s hands, and scoffed, as if displeased by the condition of her fingernails.

  “Captain Calfour insists these young—”

  “The Captain wouldn’t know donkeys from trained baboons. How can a sailor know good breeding?” She narrowed her eyes a bit, studying them more carefully. “But, then again, their posture is exceptional. They stare at me as if I were beneath them. They’re filthy and smell like pigs. They need cleaned up…a hot bath, fresh clothes. You there.” She pointed at Rikar. “You look greatly displeased. Where are you from? Tell me your story.”