by CM Raymond
Throwing him a playful punch on the shoulder, Aysa asked, “Who says you’re going to beat me, Shorty?”
****
The morning sun peeked through the blinds in the guest room in Aardash’s mansion, hitting Gregory straight in the eyes. He turned away from the window and tried to fall back to sleep, but it was useless. After his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw Hadley sitting up straight in the bed across the room, legs crossed. His hands, palm-up toward the ceiling, were balanced on his thighs. His eyes were shrouded in white.
Gregory couldn’t remember the last time he had seen the mystic meditate, but assumed it had been on the Unlawful. It always freaked him out a bit, and he wanted nothing more than to disappear from the room. Fighting his instinct to run, he asked, “Been at it a while?” and then paused, uncertain if his friend could even hear him in his state.
“Most of the night this time,” Hadley said without breaking his pose. His eyes turned back to normal, and he slumped into a more relaxed posture. His face looked drawn, and he had dark rings under his eyes. “Haven’t slept a full night since New Romanov.”
“Because of Laughter?” Gregory asked, remembering the Kurtherian madwoman who had entered Hadley’s head their last night with Lilith.
Hadley nodded. “My nights are filled with images of that place. I can’t shake them. Sometimes they’re worse.
“That totally sucks.”
Hadley stood and started to dress. “Yeah, totally, but let’s not think about that now. Aardash is nearly ready for us, and I want some of that bacon first.”
“How do you know he’s—” Gregory paused and shook his head. “Of course. You read his mind.”
“Yeah. They’re pretty easy here. I don’t think they’ve had much experience with mystics. Nobody is blocking me.”
“And you read the minds of the cooks about the bacon?”
Hadley laughed as he walked over to pull Gregory out of his bunk. “I can smell it, genius. Let’s go.”
Gregory followed Hadley from their shared room through winding corridors to the great hall in which they had been entertained the previous night. Aysa and Karl were already there, the Baseeki girl shoveling food into her mouth as the rearick went on about the richness of Heema and its people in comparison to his own. He surmised that the rearick had all but lost their souls to Adrien and his quest for more and more amphoralds, which lay in the belly of the Heights.
In Karl’s mind, the Heemites were a purer and truer version of what the rearick might have been. What they would have been, if they had not been captured by their lust for wealth.
Aysa nodded along as she devoured a second plate of bacon, eggs, and freshly baked bread. If nothing else, the Heemites certainly knew how to cook—and how to eat.
Gregory and Hadley joined them and waited for their own food, letting Karl’s sociological rant about mountain people play in the background. Hadley was content to wait and take in the room around him, but Gregory’s eyes were fastened on the door that led to the king’s personal quarters. Hannah had trusted him to lead, but did he trust himself?
“Hadley,” he finally said, rousing the mystic from his curious gaze. “That spell you cast on me on the cliffs... The one that made me fearless?”
“Yeah,” Hadley said with a yawn. “What about it?”
“Any chance you can do that on me when we meet with Aardash?”
Hadley smiled. “Sure, Gregory. No problem.” His eyes flashed white and then turned to their normal hue. “Done.”
Gregory’s face crinkled. “Really? I don’t feel any differently.”
Laughing, Hadley replied, “You still don’t get it, do you? It’s not like the spell itself does anything you can’t do yourself. Remember, you did half your walk across that damn razor’s edge of a path without me shielding your fear.”
“So what do I do?” Gregory asked, face still twisted in confusion.
“It is time you embrace what the mystics have used as their greatest advantage since we organized.” Hadley tapped his temple. “The mind. Damn problem with you is that you’re too smart for the whole thing. Meditation for me is the emptying of my mind, so that I do not let fear or embarrassment or regret get in the way of the here and now. Your mind is working overtime on all these things. Push your fear about meeting with Aardash out of your mind, and focus on the meeting. That is all. Nothing else.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Gregory told him.
Hadley shoved a piece of bacon into his mouth and chewed. “Yeah, simple. It’s only taken me a few decades to get it right.” He grinned as he reached for the cup of tea that had been placed in front of him by one of Aardash’s servant boys. He blew across its hot surface. “But you have to start sometime.” He nodded toward the door to the king’s chamber, which was slowly swinging open. “And I think your opportunity is about to present itself.”
Gregory closed his eyes and exhaled, trying to imagine himself blowing the fear out of his gut. As he did, the young engineer could feel his heart quicken. He opened his eyes and found Broderick standing next to him, tapping his foot impatiently.
“If you’re done with your morning nap, Aardash will see you now.” He pointed at Hadley. “Just you and him, though.”
Gregory’s eyes cut to the others. Aysa was working on her third plate of breakfast, and Karl had stopped talking and was doing his best to try to catch up with her. They didn’t even notice when Hadley and Gregory stood and left the table, following Broderick toward the king’s chamber.
As Broderick led them across the large hall, Gregory wished it were a bit larger. They stepped through the doorway, and Aardash once again sat in the chair from last night with a broad smile on his ruddy face. Gregory’s fear disappeared, and he wondered if it was the effect of the mystic’s craft or his own meditation. Either way, he gave Aardash a nod and slid into a velvet chair.
Gregory wasted no time launching the conversation. “Sir, we’re here to—”
Aardash raised a large calloused hand. “First, how was your rest? Were our accommodations pleasing?”
“Oh.” Gregory blushed. “Yes, they were very, um, accommodating. Thank you. Now, we’d like to—”
The hand rose again. “And breakfast?”
Gregory’s stomach growled, a reminder that he hadn’t gotten to the eating part. “My party has eaten better this morning than they have for weeks. Thank you, Aardash.” He paused, waiting for another question.
Finally, the king smiled. “Come on, then. Let’s hear your proposition.”
Gregory pulled at his collar and cleared his throat. He took time to repeat what they had discussed the previous night, this time going into a bit more detail about his relationship with Lilith and efforts to construct a device to maintain her. He kept the technical descriptions vague, unsure if the king had enough of a concept of science and technology to follow.
Aardash nodded along with the story, stopping Gregory from time to time to ask him to fill in more details. He certainly was interested, and even concerned about the BBB’s plight. But the rules of the gods overrode all, he told them, and no one could descend into the mines without winning the festival tournament.
“Yes,” Gregory replied, “and that is precisely why we needed to meet with you this morning. We would like to submit a competitor for the tournament.”
Aardash laughed. “I see you are a clever bunch. But again, you run against a rule of ours. No outsider is allowed to take part in the tournament. The tournament is for Heemites only. No exceptions.”
Gregory turned toward Hadley, hoping to see his eyes flashing white, indicating that he was swaying the man’s opinion on the matter. The mystic just shrugged and looked back at Aardash.
The king finally spoke. “But... Maybe there is a way.”
****
Pushing his empty plate away from him, Karl said, “One thing the rearick certainly hold in common with the Heemites is we both know how ta eat.”
Leaning back in her chair,
Aysa held her stomach and groaned. “I think there might be a baby in here, Karl.”
Karl laughed and swiped his hand at her. “Ye’re crazy.”
“No, no. Really, Karl. Are you sure you can’t get preggers by eating really good bacon? Because I had a ton of that swine.”
His smile faded as he watched Gregory and Hadley cross the room. “Well, those two hogs be havin’ a laugh at me expense again.” His cheeks turned bright red as he scanned the room, looking for the ladies Hadley had been busting his balls to. But there was no one. “The hell’s so funny, mystic?” Karl grunted as they approached.
Gregory took a chair as Hadley crouched between Karl and Aysa. “Don’t worry, friend. I wasn’t talking to those girls you’re sweet on, but their king. I’ll tell you, Gregory’s struck quite the bargain with him.” He nodded to the engineer. “He can command a room like he’s flying the Unlawful.”
Karl leaned in, interested in their next words. “The festival?”
Gregory nodded. “Yeah, about that…”
“There’s some bad news and some good news,” Hadley jumped in.
“Bad news,” Gregory said, “is that only citizens of the mountain are allowed to compete in the tournament. So, at first it sounded as though we were out.”
“But!” Hadley stood, his face beaming. “The good news is that Aardash is more creative than the girls in the Dragon’s Lair back in Arcadia. Outsiders aren’t permitted, but by marriage someone can become a citizen of Heema and fight in the tournament.” Hadley turned and pointed at the young woman who had been hanging around him giggling since they had arrived. “And the best news is that she is the king’s only daughter. I know it’s only been two days, but she has already told her father that she wants one of us to take her in marriage!”
Karl slammed his hand on the table, laughter taking over his body. “Scheisse, Hadley, yer gettin’ married. Ain’t that a real kick in the balls! Kiss yer freedom g’bye, pretty boy! Serves ya right fer being such a damned flirt”
Hadley stared at the rearick, and his laughter turned to a slight grin. “Karl, you don’t understand. I haven’t been flirting, I’ve been playing the part of ‘wingman.’ That girl I’ve been talking to—all I’ve done is answer questions about the ‘hot rearick’ in my party.” Hadley started laughing, first slowly and then more vigorously. “Congratulations, Karl. You’re now betrothed to the princess.”
Aysa’s jaw dropped as she stared back and forth between the two men. Karl looked like he wanted to punch something, throw up, or both.
“Well…” he finally muttered, “I’ll be dipped in remnant shite.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Hannah’s heart was beating a mile a minute by the time they got to the Lynqi village. She hardly had time to take in the place. It was made up of humble huts in precise rows, each nearly the same as the others. All were low to the ground—more den than house.
The cat-man who had led them there ran through the street between the huts and stopped at the smallest dwelling, which was near the back of the village.
“This is it. This is where our glavne lives. I will go in first. You will enter only after I tell him the situation.”
Hannah glanced at Parker. His face was drawn and ashen, body slumped on Sal’s back. “Please hurry.”
Vitali simply bowed his head and pushed through the door without knocking.
A lifetime passed before Hannah saw the door crack open again. Vitali poked his head out. “You can come in, but you should know our glavne isn’t used to welcoming strangers.”
They walked through the living room into the small and humble kitchen. A cat-man with graying fur looked up from the cup on the table in front of him. His eyes were tired, and maybe even sad.
With a nod, he said, “I see that you and your friends have had a run-in with our cousins. Vitali has told me what you did for our people—how you saved the children.”
“Saving children in jeopardy is what we do, sir,” Hannah awkwardly said as she gave him a little bow, trying to be respectful. “But our pursuit of justice for your people led to this.” She motioned toward Parker, whom Laurel had brought in from outside. “I understand that you might know an antidote to the poison.”
The old cat wrapped his fingers, which looked more human than feline except for their fur, around the cup. He slowly drew it to his mouth and took a sip. “Perhaps, but there is of course an issue. It’s why most of our people, when they are poisoned by the Muur, don’t make it. Only our cousins, the Muur themselves, have the antidote to their poison. It is how they have been able to keep us under their power for so long. It is, as they say, their unfair advantage.”
Hannah glanced at Parker, who was slumped in a chair in the corner, his ashen face almost unrecognizable. “Point me in their direction.”
The old man laughed, the sound light and playful. “Oh, dear. I can show you the way, but it would be easier and much more efficient if I just cut your throat here and now with my own claws. You cannot take on the Muur. Two little girls against the strongest in all of Kaskara? It would be a bloodbath.”
Hannah stood up straighter and jammed her fists on her hips, tired of being respectful. “We are not girls, and we fear no one. We are—”
The old man’s cackle cut her off. “Ah, that is cute,” he finally responded. “Only the gods can stop the Muur.”
“Sir,” Vitali broke in, “I have seen her fight. She is gifted by the gods.”
The old one raised a brow. “Is that right?”
Biting the side of her mouth, Hannah only nodded.
The glavne’s mouth turned up in a smile and his eyes narrowed, the way Hannah’s old housecat’s would when he was nearing sleep. “Well then, magician… Can your magic take out a score of fighting men?”
“If it means saving my friend, I can take out a hundred.”
She heard a purr from the kitchen table. The glavne was thinking. He had ruled the Lynqi tribe for longer than Hannah had been alive, and they had survived through the years due to his leadership. Shrewdness had gotten him this far, and it might just be enough to get him and his people a few more years.
“Yes,” he said, his tongue lingering on the “s.” “All right then, young magician, you should go. I will guard your friend and keep his body ready for the other side while you are gone. I will point you toward your death. It isn’t far.”
“Thank you,” Hannah whispered.
The glavne stretched his long furred arm to the table at his side and grabbed a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a quill. Dipping the quill into the dark black ink, he sighed. “Let’s see, now…”
“I will show her the way,” Vitali said confidently, adding tension to the already strained room.
“No,” the old man retorted. “If the one from afar wants to walk into certain death, let her do so on her own. I won’t see another of our tribe fall to those mongrels.”
“Father,” Vitali said, and the word made the hair on Hannah’s neck stand up. “Let the small one stay here with the man. It is only right that he have the companionship of a friend as he passes to the other side.”
“Hey!” Laurel protested.
Vitali glanced at her, and then back at the elder. “I will accompany the magician to the Muur village.”
The older cat-man sat up straight, his face tightened. “I won’t hear of it. If this one wants to walk into her own grave I cannot stop her, but I won’t hear of my own son choosing to do the same.”
Vitali walked across the kitchen and placed his hand on his father’s shoulder. “She saved them. Saved them all. If it weren’t for Hannah, the Muur would have destroyed us. They would’ve killed the children. We have an obligation. It’s a matter of honor.”
The elder looked down at the table, considering his son’s words. “Indeed. An act like hers should not go unrewarded. You have my permission to show her to the edge of their village, but go no farther. Do you understand?”
Vitali glanced at Hannah and
then back to his father. He nodded. “I will do as you say, Father.”
The elder smiled, proud that his son wanted to do what was right. But the grin was laced with sadness, because he knew exactly what Vitali was walking into.
“I’ll bring him back,” Hannah said, “and we’ll have the antidote with us. You can bet your furry ass on that.”
The old man smiled. “May the gods be with you, magician.” He looked at his son. “Don’t forget your promise.”
Hannah looked at Laurel. “Keep him alive until I return.”
The druid smiled. “There’s no way I’ll let your boyfriend die on me. Now go kick some arse.”
With that Hannah and her escort left the building, leaving Laurel and Parker behind.
“You should eat something,” Vitali said. “The walk is long and hard, and we might see some rain.”
“And you…should keep an open mind.” Hannah whistled, and Sal dashed to her from around the corner. “I bet we can do it in about fifteen minutes.”
She climbed onto the dragon’s back and reached her arm down to Vitali. He looked Sal over and shook his head. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“I never joke about my dragon. Well, almost never.”
Vitali took her hand, and she pulled him up behind her. “Hold on. Sal’s still getting the hang of this.”
The dragon took four steps and leapt into the air. His massive wings beat strongly and pulled them away from the village and the jungle into the cobalt-blue sky. The sound of Sal’s wings filled her ears as the wind rushed past her face. He was flying faster than he ever had, and in that moment Hannah realized she wasn’t the only one Sal loved. She patted the dragon’s neck and spoke into his ear. “Good boy. Keep it up.”
Sal roared and pushed harder, accelerating over the trees.
Hannah tilted her head back and yelled over her shoulder, “Where are we heading?”
Vitali squeezed tight around her waist. “The Muur medicine man not only makes the poison but also knows how to cure its effects.”
“Then that’s who we need to find.”
She could feel his body shake as he laughed. “Finding him won’t be the hard part. The medicine man is revered among the Muur. He lives in the middle of their village, protected from us or anyone else who might want to harm him. How are you going to get in there?”
