She pressed her hands together in front of her and bowed her head, her singsong tone replaced by a deeper, sultrier voice. “I beg forgiveness, Master. No insult was intended. Honestly, I do know better than to make such comparisons.”
Qaliah’s demeanor became sober compared to the lighthearted dancing, singing jester, and Pancras puzzled over how both personalities existed within the same person. “Apology accepted.” He decided to use her newfound seriousness to his advantage. “Tell me where the Golden Slayer is, and all will be forgiven.”
“The last I saw, Master, she was in the tavern.” Qaliah gestured in the direction of a squat building along the compound’s east wall. “I did not notice whether or not she left it yet.”
“Thank you. Carry on.”
A grin overtook Qaliah’s face, and she snapped her fingers and danced. “Hi ho, tummy rum! Drink some dummy rum! Have enough rummy rum and your tummy will be having fun!”
Pancras cringed at the horrible rhyme as he turned away from the jester and proceeded in the direction Qaliah indicated. The tavern itself was small enough that it took only a quick scan for Pancras to determine Gisella was not there.
The barkeep, a tall woman with chiseled features, confirmed having seen Gisella. “She stopped in, bought a couple of casks of mead, and then left. Didn’t stay long enough to say what she was doing or where she was going.”
“Where does she live? Nearby?”
“I never asked.” The barkeep offered Pancras a shrug and a smile. “Not my business.”
Pancras left the barkeep to tend to her customers and returned to the courtyard. He noticed the jester turning cartwheels near some initiates, who watched her intently. The initiates bowed their heads in deference as the minotaur approached.
“Hey ho, dilly doe, it’s the tall minotaur wizard! Ring-a-ding, ring-a-ding, what happened to your lizard?”
The initiates laughed and applauded as she somersaulted and rolled into a bow in front of Pancras. She looked up at him and cocked her head, a wry and slanted grin on her face.
“Can you tell me where the Golden Slayer lives?”
“Hey-day dilly! Information don’t come cheap! Cross my palm with coin, or I’ll not say a peep!”
Pancras fished in his pouch for a copper penny, but he pulled out a silver talon, instead. He sighed and flipped it to her. Qaliah snatched it out of the air and allowed it to roll down the back of her hand before flipping it into the air and catching it again. She spun around and pointed toward a square tower behind the Court of Wizardry.
“In the Guardian Tower, she makes her dwelling be. You have my thanks for flipping this coin to me!” Qaliah laughed and skipped away before Pancras asked a follow-up question. His hand dropped to his rod unbidden.
“I really need to learn some sort of restraining spells.”
The initiates raised their eyebrows and regarded, first each other, and then him, and Pancras realized he had spoken aloud. He coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “My speciality didn’t cover those… and she’s quite flighty; I wasn’t finished asking her questions.”
He felt their eyes upon him. “You should return to your studies.”
Pancras exited the courtyard, suspecting the students probably made all manner of unsubstantiated judgements and suppositions about him. He didn’t care. The Guardian Tower was a four-story, square, crenelated structure connected to the rear wall of the Arcane University. In Pancras’s day, the tower was used for student housing. No new buildings had been added since Pancras was a student, and he was certain the building across the courtyard contained classrooms. Perhaps they’ve cleared out all the old underground storage vaults and students live there.
Guardian Tower was built to surround a small courtyard. Balconies on each level ran the circumference of the interior, and each apartment faced inward toward the courtyard. He heard stories of similar towers at other Arcane Universities, but those towers had no stairs; students were required to learn levitation to access the upper levels. That was never a requirement at the Muncifer university.
A couple of quick inquiries of the guards he saw relaxing provided him the information he needed, and he proceeded to the far side of the inner courtyard. Gisella’s apartment was the center one. As it contained no marker or distinguishing features, Pancras hoped he knocked on the correct door.
He heard thumping from within before it opened. A fully armored Gisella greeted him. “Oh, it’s you. I was expecting my sparring partner.”
“Sorry to disturb you.” Pancras held up his hand and bowed his head. “I was buying supplies for Delilah and our upcoming trip, and I realized it’s been a long while since I’ve been home. I don’t suppose we could delay our start a few days?”
“No, that’s not going to be possible.” Gisella vanished for a moment before she reappeared holding her spear. “Anything else?”
Pancras looked away. “No, I suppose not.” The minotaur hoped there would be room for negotiation. He wanted to help Delilah through her first few days at the university, and perhaps visit a few of his old haunts. “No matter, I apologize for the intrusion.”
“It’s no trouble. I have a few things I need to finish before leaving tomorrow. I’ll see you then, at your inn. Yes?”
“I shall be ready.” Pancras wasn’t sure how he could ever be ready to abandon his friends and travel to what felt like the other side of the world, but saying the words felt right. That’s the spell the archmage put on me talking.
He left Gisella to her tasks. His thoughts turned to the preparations for another long journey and his former lover, Thanos. Following his lover’s ill-fated expedition to the Western Wastes, so many years ago, Pancras left the Arcane University and Muncifer. At last, it is time to close that chapter fully. He headed into the undercity.
The mercenary company Thanos joined, the Band of the Griffon, still had an office in the undercity. Carved into the bedrock, three levels below the upper city, the Band’s office was little more than an antechamber and a series of rooms in which the mercenaries bunked.
A corpulent minotaur with black horns wider than his shoulders and a gnarled scar covering half his face greeted Pancras when he entered. “Ho there, brethren. What business have you with us today? Looking for work, or someone to work? How can old Reko help you?”
“Looking for information, actually, about an old expedition. Well, about one of your members who went on that expedition.”
“I’ve been with the company most of my life, gave as much blood, sweat, and flesh as one can without dying. But, I don’t know that I can help you. Why do you want this information?”
“A minotaur, called Thanos of the Black Mountain minotaurs, went on an expedition to the Western Wastes over twenty-five years ago. He was my lover. I’d heard that the entire expedition was wiped out, killed by giants in the Dragonspine Mountains.” Pancras scanned the room. Apart from a couple of tables and chairs in front of the hearth, a tapestry covering one wall was the only ornamentation in it. The tapestry depicted a variety of battles and the minotaurs who fought in them. “I was passing through and thinking about him. Information about what happened back then was spotty, and I was hoping someone could tell me something more specific.”
“Thanos?” The old minotaur pulled two chairs over to the hearth. He gestured for Pancras to join him. “I’ve known many minotaurs called Thanos, but we haven’t crossed those mountains in twenty years. Too much to do on this side of them.”
The way the old minotaur spoke gave Pancras hope. “Do you remember him? He was about my size, more muscular, but similar height. His horns turned up at the tips.”
“I remember.” Reko crossed his arms over his chest and stared into the fire. “It wasn’t giants. They dwell in the mountains in vast numbers, but that day, it was something else. A few of us made it out.” Reko ran his hand down the scar that covered the left side of his face. “Most didn’t. Now, I’ve never seen a dragon, but that’s what some of us thought this thing was.
It was savage, bestial. Skin like armor plates, not scales. Fought us with tooth and claw. Thanos fought well. He dragged many of his brothers to safety before the beast split him open.”
Pancras took a moment to absorb what the old minotaur told him. Thanos is as dead as he was when I thought giants killed him. “Thank you. It changes nothing, but it’s good to know he earned his place in the Halls of the Valiant.”
“He did indeed.” Reko slapped Pancras’s knee. “Come, I want to show you something.”
He guided Pancras into the barracks. A handful of the bunks were occupied with sleeping minotaurs. Reko pointed toward a head mounted on the wall. “We avenged them all a year later.”
The creature’s angular, insect-like head was large enough to swallow a human whole, or bite a minotaur’s head clean off, but it lacked the elegant and organic curves characteristic of the one dragon he knew: Terrakaptis, who lived in the caldera of Drak-Anor. It appeared to be some mad wizard’s idea of a dragon mated with a beetle.
“Did it have a lair?”
Reko rubbed the mounted head’s chin. “Yes. It was deep in a cave, filled with blood, slime, and all manner of vermin and things I still see in my nightmares. We had some of the sages at the Arcane University come examine it, but no one could identify it. I’d always heard dragons were graceful, beautiful, but this… this is the ugliest damned thing I’ve ever seen.”
Pancras decided it also topped of his own list of ugly things as well. He thanked Reko for his time and stopped by a provisioner’s shop on his way back to The Granite Anvil. He arranged for the supplies he needed to be delivered to the livery where Stormheart was stabled.
Time for one last meal—no—feast with my friends before we part ways.
Chapter 8
Pancras described the parting as a bitter, sad moment. Delilah would have chosen stronger words. The rough-spun beige robes the university forced her to wear chafed against her scales, and more than ever, she wanted to make a break for it with Pancras.
“It’ll never work, Delilah.” Pancras looked over his shoulder at Gisella. “There’s a slayer right here. It’s time for us to go our separate ways, no matter how miserable that option seems.”
The drak sorceress was ambivalent about Edric’s departure, but when it came time to say goodbye to Pancras, tears fell no matter how much she tried to control her emotions. The last thing she wanted to do in front of the dwarf, Kali, and the Golden Slayer was collapse into a blubbering mess, and it was only her own pride and vanity that kept her from clinging to Pancras’s legs to attempt to prevent him from leaving.
Pancras knelt before her after saying his goodbyes to Kale and Kali. “Brave heart, Delilah. You are strong and clever, and you’ll be fine. I know you and Kale can handle anything this city can throw at you, and, with Kali, you’ll be even stronger.”
“Sure, you’re just saying that to make me feel better.” Delilah sniffled and refused to meet his eyes.
“I know it. I will send for you as soon as I’m able, but it could be the better part of a year before I am settled in Vlorey. Try to understand that these humans are frightened of you, and that’s why they sometimes say things that offend you. Try to rein in your anger with them. They don’t mean to offend most of the time.”
“I’m pretty sure the Manless offends on purpose.” She didn’t care if he had spies listening to her right now. She was willing to risk the confrontation.
“Yes, probably. Now look, your skills are far beyond those of any of the students. If you participate in any duels, go easy on them. But, keep an open mind. You might learn a new way to approach a technique you think you’ve mastered or perhaps some kind of utility you never thought of. This is an opportunity for you to refine and further develop your power. There is an extensive library at the university. Use it.”
Delilah nodded and wiped her nose. “I will… remember what you said. I’ll try to be good.”
Pancras looked over at Kale and Kali. “Your brother and his mate are both here for you. Help each other. Make some friends. We’ll be together again before you know it.”
The drak sorceress didn’t believe that, but Pancras seemed to, so she accepted his word. She stood apart from Kale and his mate as they watched Pancras, Edric, and the Golden Slayer ride out of the city. Delilah’s eyes followed them until the three were out of sight. The sun was already creeping toward its zenith. Her guts churned and knotted as she contemplated reporting in at the Arcane University.
“Deli?” Her brother reached for her.
“I’m fine. I have to go to the wizard place.” She turned to face Kale and his mate. Kali, her face devoid of expression, regarded the sorceress. Delilah sighed. “We’re all each other has for now. Why don’t the two of you take that money Pancras left us and try to find a more permanent place to stay? I’ll probably be stuck at the university for a couple of days. I’ll send a message to you when I can and keep you apprised of my situation.”
“Deli, I—”
She held up her hand. “It’s fine, Kale. I’ve not been nice to either of you. It’ll be different the next time we see each other. I promise. Just have a place for us to live, all right? Don’t make me live alone, by myself.”
Kali caught Delilah off guard and hugged her. “You’ll be welcome with us, as long as you want to stay. We’ll find a home while you’re doing your duties. It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”
* * *
Kale walked with Delilah to the gates of the Arcane University. He made no attempt at conversation, and Delilah seemed quite content to stew in her thoughts. Her promise to try to treat Kali better made him feel a bit more confident about the future. Kale didn’t know how long they’d be stuck in Muncifer and suspected they’d have ridden alongside Pancras toward the coast if the wizards had not coerced Delilah to remain behind
While he escorted his sister, Kali checked on their mounts. They would have to exercise them periodically in the countryside to keep them fit and content, and Kale saw this as an opportunity to explore the area rather than as a chore.
Delilah neither waved nor bade him farewell before she disappeared within the university property. He watched her until the guards shut the towering gates, sequestering the wizards and their students from the rest of the city.
He decided explore the undercity and become familiar with its configuration. I wonder what I can find to do around here. If I keep myself busy, I won’t get into trouble and I won’t miss Pancras too much.
Usually shops of like purpose clumped together in cities or, at least, tended to be grouped by the socioeconomic status of their patrons. The funds Pancras left them were generous; more than the common folk saw in their entire lives, many of whom had no choice but to dwell in the deep, dark spaces of the undercity.
Kale tried not to brood on that as he navigated the crowds in the undercity. Draks and minotaurs were most prevalent here, and though the minotaurs paid him no mind, every drak’s head turned as he passed by.
They stared.
Folding his wings as tightly as he could against his body, Kale wished he had brought a cloak. He was used to his wings now, and he suddenly realized that with all the legends and stories about striped draks and winged draks passed down through the generations, seeing a winged, striped drak might give other draks pause.
He ducked into a glassblower’s shop. The heat of the crucible comforted Kale until he heard the crash of shattering glass behind him. The drak gaffer regarded Kale and fell to his knees. “Great Rannos! A sign!” The gaffer prostrated himself in the jagged shards before Kale.
“Don’t do that.” Kale took the gaffer by the arm and pulled him to his feet. “It’s embarrassing.”
“My arm! You touched me!” The drak cradled his arm, staring at it, his eyes wide in awe. “Oh, blessed arm, what wonders will you now be capable of? Touch my lips that I might blow mighty, magical bottles!”
Kale ran out of the shop and into a minotaur pushing a cart full of potatoes. The minotaur’s tr
ee trunk-like leg was sufficient to halt Kale’s forward motion, causing him to fall backward onto his butt.
“Watch where you’re going, Drak.”
The minotaur was mobbed by draks rushing to defend and assist their fallen idol.
“Hey, get off! Let go! Clear off!” The minotaur hopped, flinging draks left and right and shaking his legs to dislodge those clinging to him.
“Stop! Leave him alone!” Kale jumped into the air and hovered as high as he was able. He was still working on the endurance to fly under his own power, rather than just glide, but he managed a good five seconds of air time before the exertion was too great and he was forced to land.
“The Child of Destiny speaks!”
“He has come to lead us!”
“No, no, I haven’t!” Kale held up his hands and backed into a wall. The draks surrounded him, forgetting about the minotaur and giving the potato-pusher the opportunity to flee with his cart of tubers.
“Show us the way, O Great One!”
Kale was in over his head. Deli or Pancras would know how to get out of this. He blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I’m not great. I’m cursed!”
“No, you are the one of the prophecies!”
“Child of Destiny!”
“You will lead us away from the longshanks!”
“I’m a twin! I have a sister, hatched from the same egg! She’s even a wizard!”
The collective gasps sounded as if someone sucked all the air out of the area. The crowd backed away from Kale, making gestures intended to ward off evil. Kale took a step forward, and the mob of draks stepped away.
That’s not quite what I wanted. He decided to go with it and ran.
* * *
Delilah flipped through the pages of her common language lexicon as she sat in the antechamber of the Court of Wizardry. The archmage was occupied with guild business, according to the seneschal, so she was instructed to wait until he was ready for her. She thought about studying her grimoire, but figured as soon as she was able to relax and concentrate enough to make sense of the arcane pages, she’d be interrupted.
Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2) Page 11
