by Travis Bughi
Emily chuckled at Madam Sweeney’s modesty.
“Even the ogre?” Emily pressed. “I couldn’t help but notice you have an ogre child. He doesn’t give you any trouble either?”
Madam Sweeney’s quiet expression of comfort evaporated into thin air. Her body stiffened, her eyes hardened, and her jaw jutted out. Instantly, Emily felt like she was talking to her mother, and she knew she was in dire trouble.
“The ogre child has a name,” Madam Sweeney said sternly. “It’s Krunk, and just because he’s an ogre doesn’t mean he deserves any less love than you or me. Sure, his temper may be short, but so would yours if everyone around you treated you like a beast and rewarded only your savage nature.”
“I’m sorry,” Emily replied quickly. “I meant no offense.”
Madam Sweeney stared hard as if this was an inquisition, and Emily felt like her insides were being twisted around. Finally, after a few moments, the gnome’s hard gaze subsided and the carefree nature returned.
“Your ignorance is forgiven,” Madam Sweeney said and continued eating.
A silence fell over the group, and Emily felt the shame of a berated youngster who’d gotten too curious for her own good. She looked to Adelpha, but Adelpha only smirked at Emily’s embarrassment. Mariam and Abe said nothing and ate their bread.
Emily wisely decided to keep her other question to herself. She also wanted to know why Madam Sweeney spoke so well, unlike most gnomes on the Great Plains. Fred Hoggins had been a perfect example of that, leaving off so many syllables that it was a chore just to listen to him. This little gnome here, though, had perfect dialect and pronunciation. But, maybe there was no need to ask as Madam Sweeney’s reprimand brought the answer to light.
Emily shouldn’t be judging sentient creatures by their race. She realized all manner of creatures were shaped by their surroundings. Perhaps Madam Sweeney didn’t grow up with other gnomes on the plains, which could explain why her speech was not like theirs. Or perhaps she had moved to Lucifan a long time ago, and so her language had adapted. Either way, Emily realized, it was none of her business why others were different, and she’d do well to be respectful of that.
As the silence drew on, it was mercifully broken just as breakfast was being cleaned up. Gavin arrived, along with a sickly looking Duncan.
Many of the older kids recognized Gavin and greeted him eagerly, but the vast majority of the younger ones avoided him like a stranger. Emily assumed they did not know he was a knight because he was dressed in his tunic, a style of dress common among lesser folk despite being the signature of a knight. Emily briefly wondered who would gather more attention in a duel of looks: Abe in his gunslinger attire or Gavin with his grand armor, sword, shield, and pegasus combined. She had a feeling it would be the knight.
It was unfortunate then for Abe that the knights were clearly off duty as the children continued to follow him around with inquisitive stares. Gavin and Duncan were not only casual in dress, but also in their manners, with Duncan being the surprisingly shining example. He must have felt extra terrible, because it was clear he hadn’t shaved this morning, and he was holding his head up with his hands as he walked inside, appearing barely functional. This was most uncharacteristic of the duty-driven man Emily remembered, but she knew that look in a heartbeat. She’d seen it in Adelpha more than a couple times and recognized the effects of a rough night of one too many drinks.
Gavin took Duncan to the couches, and Emily and her companions took seats there as well. Madam Sweeney scattered the children to finish their work and eagerly cooed about bringing Duncan some much needed tea. He thanked her kindly and was more than grateful when he received it.
“Alright, let’s not delay this,” Gavin said once the room was clear. “Pardon my direct approach, but Duncan and I were just informed about an event we have to attend soon. I’ve already caught Duncan up about last night’s details, at least those I remember, so the only question is . . . what now?”
Gavin directed the question at Emily, and, one by one, the rest of the group turned to look at her. Emily’s mouth went dry when she realized she was expected to speak.
“Um, okay,” she started and then coughed. “Well, so, let’s start with what we know. The angels are gone and aren’t coming back. Count Drowin is still working with Ichiro Katsu, who’s married to Heliena and still in Lucifan, which means whatever they’re planning on doing, it’s not finished yet.”
“Or maybe it never will be,” Adelpha chimed in. “My guess is they have a lasting partnership, judging by how Drowin personally came for you last night, even though we’re only after my sister.”
“Right,” Emily said. “So if we find Drowin, we find Katsu, and if we find Katsu, we find Heliena.”
“Hmf,” Duncan scoffed and then sipped his tea. “You’re going to actively seek out a vampire? Really? Even if I were to suspend the thought of how suicidal that would be, how would you find him?”
“I’m not really sure,” Emily admitted.
She felt helpless, and puzzled. She really had no idea what she was doing at this moment, and her heart was pierced by a sudden sting of guilt. Surely Quartus had made a mistake when he’d sacrificed himself for her.
“Go on, Daughter,” Mariam replied. “Keep saying what you know.”
Emily breathed in deeply, then exhaled slowly.
“Alright,” she continued, “the city’s in chaos. Well, almost. The colossi stopped working when Quartus died and are kneeling outside the city. I think it’s safe to say he controlled them, maybe even made them. Count Drowin has killed off all his immortal competition using basilisk poison, but, surprisingly, none of his associates have tried to kill him as well, meaning everyone he’s working with is in a position to benefit greatly. Like my father said, anyone you give an offer to will gladly accept that same offer from someone else.”
“Smart vampire,” Abe noted. “True businessman. My only question is, if he’s the only immortal left, why doesn’t he just seize Lucifan? I mean, who’d be there to stop him?”
“He’s not the only immortal,” Gavin commented. “There are others—others who have made deals with jinn from Savara. Not to mention the oni in the East, and I think I’ve heard of another, too, the valkyries up north. But I see what you mean about Drowin being the only vampire in a position to take advantage of this, but once again, he’s too smart for that. Taking Lucifan by force will only result in an uprising. Sure, if he wanted to slay the whole city, he could do that, until he met another immortal or something. But then there’d be no profit, or blood, for him to feed on.”
“So he’s after profit,” Emily continued. “He wants subjects, not slaves. So if he’s going to take Lucifan, he’ll have to be diplomatic about it.”
Emily rested her head on her chin. She felt close to something, incredibly close.
“Keep going with what you know,” Mariam whispered.
Emily sighed and then lifted her head.
“So, the knights,” she continued. “The knights are struggling.”
“Greatly,” Gavin muttered.
“They’re struggling so bad they have to hire ogres,” Emily said, “and that costs money, lots of money that the current taxes don’t provide for. So what’s a knight supposed to do? Mark says he has to borrow the funds, which is putting the knights into debt, which they can’t do forever or they’ll bankrupt the entire city. Who’s he borrowing from anyway?”
“Who else?” Duncan responded. “Who does one go to anytime they need a large loan? Leprechauns.”
“He’s borrowing from leprechauns?” Emily asked, horrified.
“Yes, of course,” Duncan shook his head in disbelief at Emily’s ignorance. “It’s not uncommon—well, it is for knights, but not people. Commoners and other merchants borrow from them all the time. That’s actually the event we’re going to. Sir Mark is giving an emergency public speech with Jack Borgan about changes that will be made to Lucifan.”
“Jack Borgan?” Emily ask
ed, disgusted. “The one who was working with Drowin and tried to feed me to his ogres?”
“I know it sounds wrong,” Gavin said, an equal amount of disdain coming from his voice, “but things have changed since the last time you were here. After the angels punished Borgan by making him donate to charity, he rallied the leprechauns together into a sort of, well, group. They lobby together now, and if O’Conner wants to take out a loan, then Borgan is the leprechaun he must talk to. They make a powerful group, I can tell you that. They make demands and use their money to influence others. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if hiring the ogres was their idea to begin with.”
And just like that, everything made sense to Emily. It was instantly clear. The final barrier in her mind was removed, and the terrible, ugly, demented truth was shown to her.
“No!” she replied. “Damn it! That’s it! Of course!”
Emily stood up and looked at the others. They stared back at her with bewildered faces, suggesting that she’d lost her wits rather than discovered a dark plot. Emily expected Abe and Mariam to be clueless, but surely not Gavin. However, he just furrowed his brows, obviously confused. A moment passed, and Emily realized none of them were making the jump in logic.
“Borgan is still working with Count Drowin!” Emily said. “Drowin cleared out the angels and loaded the city with crime. The knights then borrowed from the leprechauns and bowed to their demands in order to keep the city functioning. It’s just the first step, you see! The knights aren’t just hiring ogres temporarily; soon there won’t be any knights. Mark is going to hand over the city to the leprechauns and Drowin, not through force, but through financial obligation. Drowin’s going to rule this city, and the leprechauns will reap the financial benefits as he passes new laws. Lucifan won’t be won in a bloody war, but handed over quietly to its new master on a silver platter!”
Gavin’s and Duncan’s eyes popped wide open, and they stared at each other. It seemed a stretch for them, but then realization began to dawn. Adelpha and Abe still looked confused, but Mariam was smiling. Emily patted her bow to make sure she was armed and then headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Adelpha demanded.
“To hear that speech,” Emily called back, “and talk to Mark.”
Chapter 9
It was agreed that not all of them should approach Mark. They were known now, and it would be wise to avoid attracting attention by traveling in a large group. They went a step further and borrowed hooded coats from Madam Sweeney. It wasn’t much, but hopefully in the crowded streets, it would be enough.
All six would attend the speech and then meet back up at the orphanage. At first, Gavin and Duncan said they would deliver her message to Mark, but Emily insisted on accompanying them. She needed to hear this herself.
For only being announced that morning, the streets were flooding with people who talked softly and headed straight towards the market square. The people of Lucifan were desperate for any scrap of information regarding the city’s future, and so news of the speech had traveled like a grass fire on the plains. By the time Emily and the others reached the square, the place was packed with all manner of creatures, and chatter filled the streets so loudly that one had to shout to be heard over it.
“Come on, we need to get closer,” Emily said.
The speech was to be given on the steps of Borgan’s bank, and knights were already posted around the steps to keep the crowd at bay. The bank was a huge stone building with massive columns lining the entrance and fearsome gargoyles perched on the roof. Because it was daytime, the gargoyles were only stone, but that didn’t hide the wicked, half-starved look they all shared. Emily remembered the red eyes, the interlocking teeth, and the skin stretched so tightly one could see the outline of bones. The sight was just as gruesome as always. It set a grim tone for the speech, which needed no such assistance.
Emily took her eyes off the gargoyles and pushed an arm out into the crowd. Turning her body to the side, she began to worm her way through small gaps with the others in tow. She did not push or shove, but only wiggled and slid until she got close enough to see the stage. They split up into their two groups, with Emily, Gavin, and Duncan going one way, while Abe, Adelpha, and Mariam disappeared together in another.
Gavin leaned in and whispered in Emily’s ear, “We got here with some time left.”
“Good,” Emily noted, “better early than late.”
They found a place in the crowd to wait, and around them, idle conversations ranged from hopeful to savagely pessimistic. To her right, Emily overheard a lady in a grey veil comforting her children, telling them to calm down and everything would be fine. Her children were asking if the angels were coming back, and she was having trouble answering. In front of Emily, a wealthy merchant stood under an umbrella held by a scrawny young servant. The merchant fanned himself, for his thick garb, though exquisite, was likely uncomfortable. Emily shook her head, thinking she’d never be able to understand such obsessions.
Behind her, whispered chatter caught her attention. She started to turn around, but stopped when her eyes caught a glimpse of a short creature in a business suit. Then she heard an ogre grunt, and Emily realized that a leprechaun was behind her. She felt her mouth go dry and her palms sweat.
“Lift me up. I can’t see,” the leprechaun said.
The ogre grunted again but did as his employer instructed. The huge, purple creature lifted the smaller one up and set her on one of his shoulders, where she perched with surprising comfort. Emily risked a glance over her shoulder and then spun back around to face the bank’s steps.
She sighed in relief. The leprechaun didn’t look familiar.
“Hey! Watch it!” came a sudden shout off to Emily’s left.
“Why, I never!” came another.
The voices were coming from the edge of the crowd, and Emily, Gavin, and Duncan all turned to see what the commotion was about. They all had to stand on their tiptoes, but Emily had to jump as well.
Through the crowd, a group of four humans was shoving its way toward the front. They were knocking people aside like they were nothing but ragdolls, and although people complained, none seemed brave enough to do anything about it. As the four humans got closer, Emily saw through the gaps why that might be.
They were brutish looking men. Though no taller than anyone else, thick cords of muscle covered every inch of their bodies from their broad shoulders to their tree-trunk legs. It was as if they spent all day, every day lifting heavy equipment. They were warriors for sure, marked by the plethora of weapons they carried. Two had large swords that were almost as long as Emily was tall, and two had axes that seemed capable of splitting small trees in a single blow. The weapons, seemingly sized for ogres, nonetheless seemed equally appropriate in the massive hands that wielded them. Their eyes were a piercing blue, like Drowin’s, but without the deathly gaze, and their hair was wavy, long, and unkempt. Emily could see why no one had bothered to stop them. They were downright savage.
“Of course,” Duncan muttered.
“I knew it before I saw them,” Gavin rolled his eyes.
“What?” Emily asked, bewildered. “Knew what?”
“Vikings.” Gavin nodded his head toward the four men. “Rude, crude, and notoriously unwelcome. Somewhat rare in Lucifan, too. They’re like ogres, only human. I wonder why they even bothered to show up.”
“Who knows?” Duncan responded. “Seems like everyone wants to hear this speech. There’s even a group of pirates over there, and they’re nothing but scum as well.”
Emily wanted to ask more about the vikings, but just as she opened her mouth, there came a loud horn from the bank’s steps. The massive doors at the bank’s entrance were pushed open, creaking ever so slightly—a sound audible only because the crowd had gone completely silent—and the nervous shuffling stopped altogether as each creature waited to see what would happen next.
From out of the building, Sir Mark O’Conner strode with a scroll of
parchment in hand. To his left, and just a hair behind him, followed Jack Borgan.
Instinctively, Emily looked down to hide her face from the leprechaun. She felt her heart skip a beat and realized that heading towards the front of the crowd might not have been the best idea. Emily shifted so the wealthy merchant in front of her shielded her from Borgan and then looked up again. Now, with one eye just over the merchant’s shoulder, she could see the leprechaun, and that was more than enough.
Mark walked to edge of the steps and stopped. He looked defeated, yet proud, like a man condemned to death but convinced that he was in the right. Borgan looked calm, yet hungry, like a merchant watching quietly as his wealth was being counted. Mark stood still for a moment and assessed the crowd. His eyes scanned the large number of attendees, and the weight of their combined gazes seemed to bear down upon him. The silence of the crowd was deafening. Finally, he raised a hand of acknowledgement and cleared his throat.
“Good day, Lucifan,” Mark yelled. “I’d like to thank you all for coming out on such short notice. I’m glad you all could make it. My name is Sir Mark O’Conner, and I represent—”
“Get on with it, ya scallywag!” yelled a pirate.
Both Gavin and Duncan, along with most of the knights guarding Mark, looked in the pirate’s direction and scowled. There were far more cries of agreement though, not just from the pirate’s crewmates, but also from the crowd.
“Don’t delay now!” said one farmer.
“Let’s hear it!” said a merchant.
“We didn’t come here for pretty words,” one of the vikings added.
More nods and cheers followed, and Sir Mark’s jaw set tough as metal.
“Fine,” he finally shouted. “If you insist, have it your way.”
Mark lifted the scroll and held it aloft like a beacon of command. The crowd fell silent again, but only after the last jeer died did Mark pull the scroll back down to unroll it.
