Unlawful Passage: Age Of Magic - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (The Rise of Magic Book 5)

by CM Raymond

  “Well, commence with the ass kicking, or get out of my way,” the girl spouted. “Either I’m coming with you, or I’m going by myself.”

  Dardanus grumbled under his breath and paced back and forth. The girl had him by the balls, and they all knew it.

  “All right,” he said. “But first, you tell me what you know.”

  Aysa dusted off her hands. “A few days ago, the day that Sam left the village, I was out exploring, when I saw him and his guards.

  “More like you were creeping on him, aye, Aysa?” Cal, Dardanus’s second in command scoffed.

  She turned a shade of pink, but ignored him. “I followed Sam and his men up here. Everything was normal. Sam was hopping from rock to rock like he was a newly freed prisoner, and the guards were walking behind him, muttering about being babysitters when there were more important things to be done. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “That’s all you’ve got?” Dardanus asked. Hannah knew that it was more than nothing, and she knew that he also realized it.

  “Well, not quite,” the girl continued. “They dropped down into the cleft.” She motioned around them. “Down here. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I climbed behind that boulder up there. I didn’t have a clear view, but I heard…” She trailed off, and silence overtook her.

  “Heard what?”

  “Well, pretty sure they were arguing.”

  Dardanus took a step toward the girl. “About what?”

  She shrugged. “Not positive. Like I said, I was up there, too far to really hear much of anything. I snuck out of my spot and tried to get closer. When some rocks shifted beneath my feet, one of them saw me. He started yelling, really tearing me a new one, telling me to get my little ass back to the village.”

  “So, did you?” Hannah asked.

  The girl smiled. “Hell no. They aren’t the boss of me. I just got out of view again. I… I guess I was worried for him. When all finally went quiet, I walked down in here and found… Nothing.”

  Dardanus made a “hmph” noise and looked out into the area known as the cleft. “You wait here,” he said to Aysa. “Men, spread out. Leave no stone unturned.”

  Hannah looked at the crew of long limbed men and then over the land that lay before them. She grabbed Dardanus by his arm. “If I might offer a suggestion. ‘No stone unturned’ would take an eternity. Why not let my friend in there first to scope out the scene?”

  He gave her a scowl. “And what would she know about this land that my men wouldn’t?”

  “Trust me, she’s a druid. She’ll be able to judge between the natural and unnatural disruptions. And there’s another thing.”

  Dardanus lifted a brow. “Besides her being a master tracker? What’s that?”

  “She can kind of talk with the plants.”

  He turned to Laurel. “Is that true?”

  “Do you really want a botany lesson right now, or do you want me to see if I can find your prince or whatever?”

  “I’m surrounded by children,” he replied shaking his head and trying to make sense of these strange women in front of them. “Well, get in there then.”

  Laurel smiled, kicked off her shoes, and walked barefoot into the area in question.

  Watching her go, Dardanus said, “The magic you have is unbelievable—I mean, truly unbelievable. Does everyone in the Arcadian Valley practice magic?”

  “Not everyone, but there are a fair number of us, and growing every day. They used to restrict who could use magic and who couldn’t... but we took care of that.”

  “Damn,” he grunted. “Strange place your land must be then. And with freakish people—no offense.”

  “None taken.”

  Dardanus was still shaking his head when Laurel emerged from the spot in the trees.

  “Yeah, there were people here all right,” Laurel stated plainly. “Looks like three, maybe four fully grown folks. Another smaller body, probably my size. But I didn’t see much indication of violence. Nothing large scale anyway.”

  “No way those guards would have given in without a fight. If they were attacked, there would be blood.”

  They all glanced at Aysa. She shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I heard. Didn’t see any roamers or Kofkens or anything. Just Baseeki guards arguing. Maybe the roamers snagged Sam without a struggle.” Her face turned a little pale. “Or poisoned him.”

  Hannah thought over the girl’s response. She had no reason to be suspicious of her tale, but, on the other hand, she certainly had no reason to trust her either. But something about Samet’s disappearance didn’t feel right, and scenarios rushed through Hannah’s mind.

  Why would a prince go missing on his own land, with his own guards? she thought.

  “Something’s off,” she said.

  “Agreed,” Dardanus replied. “Let’s get in there and really scour the area. We’ll do it my way this time”

  It was evident that the spot in the cleft of rocks was a popular place for the Baseeki to come to. It was worn, and looked as though camps had been set up there for years. In the middle was a clearing, the remnants of a fire circle that looked as if it was often used. Hannah walked the perimeter again as the others combed inside.

  Search as she could, nothing seemed odd or out of place. Just a spot in the woods where the kids would get away. Places like this existed all over the world. For her and her brother, it was abandoned houses. For country kids like the Baseeki, it was a secluded spot on the rocks.

  “Dardanus,” a gruff voice shouted. “Over here. The tiny one found something.”

  Everyone rushed to the far end of the clearing. Laurel was there, staring at a mark in the bark of a large tree.

  “Something hit this,” she said. “Something hard. And look, there’s some blood.”

  She stared at it for a second, then placed her hands on the tree. The Baseeki all looked at each other, confused, when she opened her eyes and pointed to a cluster of bushes.

  Cal walked over to it and began digging around. “Son of a bitch,” he shouted. “Dardanus, you’re gonna want to come see this.”

  “Here,” Cal shouted. He was digging through a bush nearby and pulled out.

  Lying behind the bush, like it had been concealed in a hurry, was the dead body of a Baseeki man. His head was crushed in.

  “This is Emen,” Dardanus said. “One of Samet’s guards.”

  Hannah leaned in to observe the body. “What happened to him?”

  “This,” Cal said. He rolled the body over and picked up a smooth, ornately carved stone the size of a pear. He handed it to Dardanus.

  “Dammit. This is from Kofken alright.” He showed it to Hannah. “We Baseeki prefer our bolas, but the Kofken find perfect stones like this and use them in slings. See these markings? That’s Kofken craftsmanship. It’s exquisite.”

  Hannah shook her head. “Why the hell would they decorate their rocks if they just chuck them at people?”

  “Our people—the Baseeki and the Kofkens—believe anything worth doing is worth doing well. The work of our hands is an act of worship to the Mother and Father, and we’ll be damned if we give them something half-assed.”

  Hannah put out her hand, and he granted the stone for her closer inspection. It was beautiful, but it reminded her of the well-made bed she had slept in the night before.

  Hannah stepped into a patch of sunlight and looked more closely. The stone was dark on one side. She scratched it and red flakes came off.

  “There’s blood on this,” she said, looking up at Dardanus.

  “That’s all the evidence I need,” he said through gritted teeth. “We’re heading to Kofken.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Karl lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling of their jail cell and whistling an old folk tune from the Heights. A cup of the Baseeki’s finest ale was balanced on his belly, and the hue of red his cheeks had turned indicated that it wasn’t his first.

  He stopped whistling and laughed.

  “What’s
so damned funny?” Parker asked as he paced the cell. They had been returned to the village’s rudimentary prison—for their safety, Vatan had assured them. This time, all three of them were locked up in a larger cell. Fine furniture had been moved in along with other creature comforts. Karl was testing to see if the ale was truly all you could drink.

  “The tune I been humming,” he sighed. “It’s an old war tune—well, after war tune. The victors would sing it as they marched their arses home. Words are about freedom. Funny thing is, I’m feeling freer now than I have in months.”

  Parker huffed. “Hannah could be in danger out there.”

  “Aye, could be, mate. But she also set us up in a good way before she left. I plan on enjoying every damned minute of captivity—on the ground.” He took another slug from the mug. “Scheisse, their swill ain’t bad either. Ye should sit yer scrawny arse down Parker and get piss drunk with me. Though, I’m ‘fraid I’m halfway home.” He nodded at Hadley, who sat straight up, legs crossed and eyes closed on his bed. “Or at least go all trancey like our friend over thar. That way ya’d drive me just a little less nuts.”

  “Something’s not right here, Karl.” Parker continued to pace. “I can’t put my finger on it, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this whole thing.”

  “Only thing off is that my little vacation here don’t include some fine young rearick on dis here bed with me.” Karl laughed to himself. “And I guess the fact that ya blokes would be in here with us, too.”

  Finishing his cup, he reached back over his head and tapped it on the metal bars. A young porter came over and grabbed it with his long, lanky arms before passing it back through the bars.

  “Thanks, kid.” He said. “I owe ya one.”

  The porter returned to his seat in the corner.

  “Are you listening, Karl?” Parker nearly shouted.

  “Trying not to. Why don’t you enjoy our little break in paradise?”

  “We gotta get out of here,” Parker said in a whisper with his eyes cutting over to the young Baseeki in the corner. “Between the three of us, shouldn’t be hard to bust out of here. Sneakily this time. Then we find Hannah… I’m telling you, something is definitely not right here.”

  “You said that already,” Hadley said, breaking his silence. His eyes were open and transitioning back to their normal color. “And if we do break out of here, it’s only going to put Hannah in more trouble. If you care for her so much, it’s time to trust her. She’s a big girl. Hannah can take care of herself.”

  “Aye,” Karl said with a belch as he sat up on his bed.

  Ignoring the rearick, Parker glared at Hadley. “You don’t have to tell me what Hannah can and can’t do. I’ve known her since we were freaking kids.”

  Hadley smiled, knowing he was getting under Parker’s skin. “Yeah, Park. You’re right. You and Hannah are really good friends. I’m sure you’ll stay like that for a long time. Good, good friends.”

  Blood boiling beneath his skin, Parker strode across the cell, ready for attack. He and Hadley had grown as close as brothers, but like brothers, the mystic took jabs at Parker whenever possible. And every insult was about Hannah.

  Before he could land a blow, the door to the jailroom squeaked open, a guard with arms down past his knees walked in. “The chief would like to talk with each of you individually. Starting with you.” He pointed at Karl.

  “How come?” Parker asked.

  The kid looked nervous, but Karl laughed. “I’m sure he’s just wants to get to know his guests better. Some more Baseeki hospitality.”

  The rearick laughed again. “Well, as long as the chief knows I been enjoyin’ some of his liquid hospitality fer hours,” he said, holding up his cup, “this should go just fine.”

  Karl stumbled to his feet, steadied himself, and then looked over at Hadley. “Aye, and you’ll have to finish dat story later kid.”

  The mystic looked back confused.

  “Ya know, the one where you broke out of the whorehouse in the Quarter when the shit hit the fan. Always be ready.” He winked and followed the guard out of the jail.

  ****

  Three steps toward the cockpit, Gregory spun on his heels. Sal stopped short, nearly running into him. “Will you just give me some space?” he shouted at the dragon.

  Sal bent low, jaw nearly on the deck and looked up, giving Gregory a few blinks of his beady, black eyes.

  Gregory exhaled long and slowly. “I know she told you not to leave me, but damn it, Sal, don’t take everything so literally. I’ll be fine. Listen, I gotta land this tub. She’s not flying as straight as she should, and I have to check the hull. I’m worried there may have been some damage from the last storm, and if we’re going to fly her all the way to Lilith, she’s gotta be tiptop.”

  Sal cocked his head to the side, and Gregory sighed. “I know that might seem a little risky. But everyone else is out there risking their lives—I have to do something. And right now, my only responsibility is this ship. OK, so just, go take a nap or something.”

  Sal growled in disapproval, then plodded back to mid-deck and curled up into a ball in the sun.

  If he was being honest with himself, Gregory was glad that Hannah had the presence of mind to leave him the dragon—even though Sal still kind of freaked him out.

  Gregory was getting better at trusting people, and machines had always held his confidence, but there was something about a lizard turned into a mythical beast that still didn’t fit right with his sense of reason. Sure, Sal had been nothing but useful in their battles against Adrien and as they travelled to the ends of Irth. But who knew when some sort of magical miswiring could occur, causing the beast to start eating his way through the crew, starting with Gregory.

  He just wished Hannah would have sent back Laurel instead. Even Parker or Karl would have been fine. At least they weren’t likely to bite him by accident.

  Well, Karl might. But only if he was drinking.

  Ducking below deck, he slowed to a pause by Ezekiel’s aft cabin. He listened, but heard nothing. Could the man stay in a mystical trance for the rest of his days? For a moment, Gregory considered checking in on him, but he took Hannah’s commands seriously.

  Ezekiel was not to be bothered. She said that interrupting his work could scramble his brains, and the last thing they needed was a dragon and a wizard gone astray by magical meltdown.

  Once in the pilot's seat, Gregory took a moment to scan the landscape below. The window looking out of the bow of the boat provided the best perspective on what was happening on the ground.

  Just barely making out the village that dotted the edge of the sea, he saw nothing else that seemed like a threat. Squinting toward the woods on the ridgeline, he wondered where Laurel could be. He smiled, imagining her return to the ship. In this story, he scooped her up into his arms, said something charming, and landed a kiss on her full lips.

  Pull it together, Gregory thought as he grabbed the stick and eased the Unlawful toward the open field on the top of the hill. It followed his command easily and settled on the ground with only a minor bump.

  He grabbed a wrench to tighten down any loose nuts and headed for the hangar hatch. It took a while to open, but he didn’t trust himself climbing down the ropes. He grabbed the crank and started spinning. The door groaned and banged as it lowered to the ground.

  As far as he could tell, it was the only design flaw on the whole ship. That and the mysterious dial in the control room.

  As the the door opened, he was greeted by Sal who was panting and waiting for him on the grass.

  “Can you just stay on the ship? Please. I’m trying to make repairs. No offense, but your middle name is Destruction.”

  Sal frowned as best he could, then stepped back on the ship.

  As his boots hit the dirt, Gregory sighed. All the others made it a priority to get off the ship, to connect with the land beneath him. Gregory hadn’t understood that urge. He never was one for long walks through the woods. But as he
looked around and smelled the fresh air, he had to admit that it made him feel slightly more human.

  Walking the length of the ship, Gregory stopped and tested a few nuts here and there. A massive hail storm hit several days back, which gave the ship quite a beating. If it wasn’t for the fact that Karl was puking his guts out, the rearick would have tried to throw Gregory overboard. He blamed Gregory every time the Unlawful hit the slightest breeze.

  As he neared the front, Gregory noticed a small corner of the ship’s hull was bent outward. The added drag was probably what was throwing his steering out of whack. It was a simple fix, and Gregory ran back inside to grab a bag full of random tools. Half an hour’s worth of work and he had torched, bent, and banged the piece back into place.

  One last lap around the Unlawful and everything seemed in place. He smiled, thinking about his father. Naturally, their relationship didn’t end well, with the whole sacrifice his son to Adrien’s war-machine thing, but in all of his time caring for the ship, Gregory couldn’t help to admire his father’s tedious work and careful construction.

  He imagined him walking the length of the ship as it sat in the factory, testing the torque on each and every one of the bolts before giving it the OK to be flown. He was a master at his craft—if only he had been able to see that what a thing does is as important as how it’s built.

  He turned the corner, eyes on the hull, when the sound of heavy breathing and grunting pulled his eyes from his father’s masterpiece. He looked, assuming he would find Sal playing nearby. Instead he saw two figures making their way up the hill.

  Gregory’s blood ran cold.

  It was immediately clear they were remnant, with their dull red eyes, sallow skin, and ragged clothes. He had never seen one in person before, but knew their minds were bent on only one thing—the kill. They approached cautiously, staring at the monstrous machine sitting in the otherwise natural setting.

  “Shit,” Gregory said under his breath as he jutted back behind the other side of the ship, out of sight of the killers.