Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2)

by Hans Cummings

  “Working.” As soon as Kali answered, the rhythmic pounding of the printing press stopped. Jairo ran to the front of his shop as he wiped ink-stained hands on his equally stained apron.

  “Ori!”

  “Jairo!”

  The two draks embraced. Kale shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. He didn’t want to cut short their reunion, but neither did he want to be sidelined all day.

  “The note we received said to meet the limner here.” Kale fished the scrap of parchment given him by one of Boss Steelhand’s thugs from his pouch. He handed it to Ori.

  “Oh! You’re the draks who own the place I’m setting up shop in?” Ori examined the paper and handed it to his cousin. He stared again at Kale’s wings.

  “It’s the storefront attached to our home.” He tucked back his wings as far as they would go. Jairo nudged his cousin and shook his head.

  “Oh, well, I’m sure it’s very nice. I don’t need much space, and I’ll be living with Jairo, at least for a while.”

  “That’s right.” Jairo put his arm around his cousin as he nodded. “Are the terms acceptable?”

  Kale glanced over to Kali and nodded. She shrugged.

  “Boss Steelhand hasn’t told us the terms yet.”

  “Oh.” Ori fished in his pouch and pulled out a sheaf of papers. He handed them to Kale. “They’re quite simple.”

  “Simple?” Kale flipped through the pages. They were written in drak, but the language was more complicated than that to which he was accustomed and appeared to contain doublespeak and terms with which he was not familiar.

  “Just tell us Boss Steelhand’s angle here. We know he wants you to spy on us.”

  “Oh! Spy! Me?” Ori put his hand on his chest as his eyes widened. “I don’t want to spy on anyone!”

  Jairo walked to his shop’s door and turned the lock. “Why do you think Boss Steelhand wants Ori to spy on you?”

  Kali’s fingered the handle of one of her daggers. Kale likewise reached up to his bandoleer. “What’s going on here?”

  “Calm down. Calm down.” Jairo raised his hands. “I just don’t want someone walking in on us while we’re having this particular discussion.”

  Kale’s eyes narrowed as he watched Jairo step behind Ori and lean against the counter. The grey drak moved with deliberate action, his hands remaining visible at all times. Kali moved to the door and stood in front of it.

  “Oh.” Ori’s eyes flicked to Kali and then back to Kale. “Boss Steelhand owed me a favor. When I had the opportunity to join Jairo here, I knew his shop would be too small, so I asked the boss to find me someplace to set up shop. That’s all. I’m not one of his cronies. I just illuminate manuscripts. That’s all.”

  He reached for the pages Kale held. “I have my own equipment. You just need to provide workspace. In exchange, I pay you thirty percent of my gross income every month, or two crowns, whichever is higher. The contract can be renegotiated after six months.”

  Kale dropped his hand away from his dagger. “That’s a lot of paper just to say that.”

  “It’s a standard Maritropan contract.”

  Jairo chuckled. “They use a lot of words up in Maritropa.”

  “Well, we’re not from Maritropa, and we’re not in Maritropa. What you said sounds fine to me.” Kale extended a clawed hand toward Ori. “I’ll show you around the place right away, if you like.”

  He caught a raised eyebrow from Kali, but she, too, dropped her hand away from her dagger before turning to unlock the door. Ori glanced at his cousin and then tossed the stack of papers on the counter before clasping Kale’s hand.

  “Deal.”

  * * *

  Gisella observed Pancras as he stared into his mug of mead. His failure to help the blacksmith’s mother weighed on him as well as their inability to secure Qaliah’s and Edric’s release from jail. The air in The Drunken Horse hung hazy and heavy, laden with clouds of pipe smoke. The acrid tang of the tobacco the mudders puffed mingled with the aroma of simmering stew from the kitchen.

  She sipped her mead. It was flat and tasted of clay. Sweet mud. How delightful. She grimaced and set down her mug.

  “I’ve been trying to think of something we can do to assist Qaliah and Edric.” Pancras pushed away his mug. “Perhaps if I offer to pay the damages?”

  “That’s your choice. Making the offer certainly won’t hurt.” Gisella waved her hand to gain the barmaid’s attention. “If they are guilty of breaking the law here, though, I think they should face their punishment.”

  “What do you need, dearie?” The barmaid, a round-faced woman in a cornflower dress and a white apron, approached the table, the corners of her eyes upturned in a perpetual smile.

  “This mead tastes muddy. Do you have any wine or ale? Perhaps something from Ravensforest or Maritropa?”

  “Muddy?” The barmaid’s grin fell as she fidgeted with her chignon. She glanced toward the kitchen. “Ivan! We found the contaminated batch of mead!” She gathered up Gisella’s and Pancras’s mugs. “Sorry about that. One of the boys at the meadery snuck some muddy water into one of the batches. We’ve spent all summer trying to figure out which barrels were affected. I’ll bring fresh drinks straightaway.”

  “Contaminated?” Pancras stuck out his tongue and scraped it with a fingernail.

  The barmaid’s hairdo bounced up and down as she bustled away.

  Gisella spat on the floor. “I doubt it’s poisonous. If you need to burn that taste out of your mouth, have some spirits.”

  A hush fell over the great room as the front door opened. The sound of armored boots turned Gisella’s head. Lady Aveline approached their table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

  “Your dwarf friend must appear before the magistrate to answer charges of cheating the house at Danica’s Den.” She clasped her fingers together in front of her on the table.

  “We figured that.” Gisella nodded her thanks to the barmaid as the woman set fresh tankards of ale on the table. Lady Aveline waved away her offer of refreshment.

  “The fiendling was caught up in trying to defend her friend. I will release her to you on your way out of town. She hasn’t broken any laws, but I think she’ll be safer in the jail than out on the streets right now. I have a group of mudders camped outside the jail calling for her head.”

  Pancras raised his eyebrows. “When will Edric appear before the magistrate, and what will the likely penalty be?”

  Gisella regarded Lady Aveline. In Muncifer, being caught cheating landed you in stocks for a few days and resulted in banishment from all the city’s gambling dens. She was certain the ban wasn’t totally enforceable, but the minotaur guards all possessed excellent memories.

  “There’s a fine; the magistrate will set that. He’ll be expected to pay damages to the owners of Danica’s Den, and he’ll be barred from gambling there.” Lady Aveline turned her head as the door slammed open. A couple of mudders stumbled in, laughing. One of the serving maids shook her head as she closed the door behind them.

  Gisella noticed Pancras fishing in his money pouch. Counting his coins, no doubt, hoping to pay for Edric’s mistake. “What happens if the dwarf can’t pay his debt?”

  Lady Aveline raised an eyebrow. “He’ll be indentured.” She turned to Pancras. “I’m not sure when the magistrate will see the dwarf. He’s been dealing with some sick livestock and is reluctant to leave his farm lately. It might be a week or more.”

  “A week?” Pancras furrowed his brow and rubbed his right horn. He regarded Gisella. “I don’t think we can delay that long.”

  “We shouldn’t.”

  “Perhaps…” Pancras pulled a handful of crowns out of his pouch. “Perhaps I can just pay the damages and take Edric out of town right away? Can we work something out?”

  Lady Aveline chuckled. “You’re a better friend than he deserves. Were I inclined to make such a deal, I would tell you the damages are at least twenty crowns. I don’t have final figures yet.”

&nb
sp; Pancras swallowed and put away his money. “Twenty? So far?” He sighed and drank from his tankard of ale.

  “I’m also not willing to just let him walk away.”

  Gisella observed the conflict in Pancras’s eyes as he stared into his tankard of ale. He rubbed his right horn again as he shook his head and muttered to himself. She reached over and touched his arm. “We may have to leave him to his fate.”

  “I’ll leave you to your decisions.” Lady Aveline stood. “You’re welcome to come visit your friends at the jail now.”

  Abandoning Edric to Curton justice wasn’t Gisella’s first choice, but planning a jailbreak was not an option. Qaliah had potential, however, and that the fiendling would be permitted to go free assuaged some of her guilt at abandoning one member of their fellowship. She hoped Pancras saw reason in leaving Edric behind.

  Chapter 20

  Surprised by the number of high wizards in attendance, Delilah entered the Court of Wizardry. Whatever the archmage planned for her, he obviously wanted to make a big show of it.

  The rainbow of wizards sitting to the left and right of Archmage Vilkan observed Delilah as she stepped across the court, the claws on her feet clicking against the stone floor. She adjusted her harness and straightened her apprentice’s seal, thankful to be rid of the robes that plagued her since she became involved with the university.

  “Ah, Apprentice Drak. Punctual for once.”

  Delilah resisted the urge to blow him a raspberry. She spent the last hour in the outer chambers waiting for permission to enter the court. “Delilah.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Delilah stopped and bowed to the assembled wizards. “My name is Delilah, not ‘Drak,’ Master.” She added the last to appease the archmage.

  The high wizard garbed in brown robes nodded. “The master should respect the apprentice if he expects the same in return.”

  “Yes, yes.” Archmage Vilkan held up his hand to silence the murmurs from the other high wizards. Delilah adjusted her grip on her staff and suppressed a grin. She found it interesting one of the high wizards supported her defiance of the archmage.

  “I have informed the court that you are now my apprentice.” The archmage drummed his fingers on the arms of his chair and glanced to his left and then to his right at the seated high wizards.

  “His actions are unorthodox but permitted under Arcane University rules.”

  “Clever separation of guild duties and headmaster responsibilities.”

  “Surprised it was this long in coming.”

  Archmage Vilkan glared at the wizard who last spoke. Delilah wasn’t sure which one of them said it, and by the archmage’s expression, she suspected he could not determine by voice alone which high wizard spoke.

  “Yes, I am your apprentice now, Archmage.” Delilah tilted her head to hide her sneer. “What would you have me do?”

  “My sources report the giants are amassing an army in the mountains.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Recent events, however, have given me reason to doubt my sources. I want fresh intelligence. Follow the west road. Two days into the mountains, there is a valley in which the giants make their home. You will be my spy, Apprentice Dra—Delilah. They are rumored to have a dragon pet, as well.”

  “A dragon?” Delilah made a show of swallowing and shuffling her feet. “I can’t take on a dragon alone.”

  “I understand draks and dragons have a special relationship.” A predatory smile overtook his face. “I know you live with one in Drak-Anor.”

  Archmage Vilkan sat back and sneered at her. “If the dragon is there, you will befriend it. You will convince it that we wizards are its allies, not the giants.”

  Delilah leaned on her staff and chuckled. “You want me to sneak into a giant-filled valley and steal their dragon? I don’t know where you got your information about draks and dragons—”

  He stood, slashing the air with his hand. “This is no laughing matter! Even now, the archduke seeks a truce with those brutes in the mountain.” He pointed behind him, in the general direction of the mountains. “They are treacherous and stupid. They will destroy our crops, and they will ruin our lands! You will pledge yourself to this dragon and poison its mind against the giants. Wipe them out. All of them!”

  “A mighty task to entrust to an apprentice.”

  “Moving so openly against the archduke—”

  “A dragon’s knowledge and treasure would be most valuable—”

  The high wizards spoke over one another. Delilah shook her head. It was true the archduke wanted peace with the giants. Despite his mania, the archmage was right about that. Sending her to turn their dragon against them seemed like a suicide mission.

  “You’re cracked. You’ve turned like milk left in the sun.” Delilah wasn’t sure what that meant, but she heard it when Katka insulted an obnoxious novice and thought it amusing.

  “Silence!” Archmage Vilkan’s voice reverberated throughout the room. “I have seen our doom. Fiery wings flying above an army of giants. I will not allow it to happen.”

  He stepped down from the dais and circled the room, pointing at the high wizards. “I am archmage. The unholy alliance of the giants and their pet dragon must be broken. An army could not do it. I could not do it. None of you could do it. But a drak”—he stopped and pointed a trembling finger at Delilah—“a single drak versed in magic and dragon lore could gain its confidence. Convince it we are no threat. Convince it we will serve in atonement for the slaying of Rannos Dragonsire and the Sundering.”

  “You seek to control this dragon?”

  “You would deceive this dragon?”

  “A dangerous game.”

  “A bold ploy.”

  The comments from the high wizards flew fast, and Delilah labored to keep up with them. The more she heard of the archmage’s plan, the more she became convinced he had gone utterly mad. The archduke sought to live in harmony with the giants, and if they were guardians of a slumbering Firstborne, he wanted peace with her, as well. She couldn’t fathom why the archmage would want to destroy the giants. Even a drakling knows it’s best to let sleeping dragons lie.

  The Violet Wizard tapped his staff on the floor, drawing everyone’s attention. “Your apprentice should have a say in this. It is a most dangerous assignment.”

  “She will do as I say.”

  Delilah cleared her throat. The archmage might silence her, but she anticipated the other high wizards would allow her to speak. “I know nothing about negotiating with dragons. Terrakaptis sleeps most of the time. Muncifer doesn’t need a war with these giants. I can spy on them for you. I can deliver a message for you. But I tell you this with all honesty—if there is a dragon in that valley, you have nothing that can tempt it.”

  She felt the eyes of the high wizards on her through their masks. Archmage Vilkan clenched his teeth and then seated himself, gripping the arms of his chair with white knuckles. “What, then, do you suggest, Apprentice?”

  Delilah’s mind raced as she worked through the possibilities. If Terrakaptis’s sister lived with the giants, she felt she owed it to the Earth Dragon and her brother to find out. She didn’t want to be the instrument by which the archmage incited a war between the giants and Muncifer, though. In all likelihood, the giants were content to stay in their mountains and trade with Muncifer, just like the archduke wanted.

  “I have known a few giants, and I’ve read more about them than dragons.” Delilah hoped no one would see through the lie. She actually hadn’t read anything about either one of them; the only giant she’d even known personally was a brutish thug, just like the archmage claimed they all were. “I bet they prefer to be left in peace. I’ll deliver a message, a request to meet with them to discuss terms, to clear up recent misunderstandings.”

  She tapped the butt of her staff on the stone floor. “I’m not stupid enough to mess with a dragon, though. If they have one as an ally, we need to make nice. A dragon half of Terrakaptis’s size could lay waste to this
city without breaking a sweat.”

  The drak sorceress swallowed. It wasn’t that far from the archmage’s plan, but it was a more sensible approach.

  The archmage leaned forward and sneered. “This stinks of the archduke.”

  “The archduke rules Muncifer.”

  “No wizard has fought a dragon in this age; the drak speaks sense.”

  “Your apprentice has wis—”

  “Silence!” The archmage stood, scowling at the high wizards. “The drak will deliver a message of peace to the giant. We will meet at the Well of the Willow on Midsummer’s Day to discuss a truce… and peace.” He turned to face Delilah. “You will learn as much as you can about their strengths, their weaknesses, and the truth of this dragon, and you will report back to me.”

  He flipped his robes and stomped past Delilah. “If they are no threat, so be it. If they do pose a threat, we will wipe them out at the Well of the Willow.” He exited the Court of Wizardry, slamming the doors behind him.

  The assembled high wizards murmured to themselves and then disappeared in puffs of smoke matching the colors of their robes. All departed, save for the Violet Wizard. He, or she, strode over to Delilah and met her eyes. It felt as if the black eyes of the colorless mask bored into her soul.

  “An interesting approach, Apprentice. Take care you do not underestimate your foes.”

  She eyed the impassive mask. “Usually, it is they who underestimate me.”

  * * *

  Pancras drained the ale from his tankard. None of the options he considered appealed to him.

  “Even if the magistrate is lenient with Edric, I doubt he will avoid paying the fines and damages.” Gisella tapped on the table in front of Pancras to gain his attention.

  “I know. I’m not paying that for him.” His tone conveyed his certainty. Had it been Kale or Delilah, perhaps his feelings would be different.

  “Then we have no choice: we must collect Qaliah and leave Edric to his fate. If Dolios intervenes and the dwarf is freed, he can catch up to us, but I tell you now, I will have no part in helping him escape.”