Purveyors and Acquirers (The Phosfire Journeys Book 1)

by Unknown

  Fronc brushed himself off, picked up his kit, and sauntered over. “Thank goodness I didn’t tear a hole in one of the knees of my britches this time. How did you all get here so fast? Zeal, where is your kit? Ha! You lose.”

  “No, I put mine away last night. That means you’re still last, Fronc. Sorry about the fall. You had Nester beat there for a moment.” Zeal didn’t bother to hide his grin. Though he wasn’t yet even with Fronc and Nester for their pranks against him, he had made up for one. He turned and opened the gate, allowing his companions to go before him. After closing the gate, he ran ahead of them and opened the mausoleum door for them, too.

  As he passed her, he heard Liddea ask, “You want to introduce me to someone here? In the mausoleum?”

  ***

  Liddea looked around for the Master Obin whom Zeal had addressed after opening the door. She did not see anyone, so she continued to follow Tulip, who quickly crossed the large chamber and stopped in front of a stone statue of a woman. The sculpture was familiar to her. She’d viewed it every time she came inside.

  Tulip turned to her with a coy smile. “Liddea, I would like to introduce you to Iris. Iris, this is Liddea, whom you have heard so much about but never had a chance to greet.”

  Liddea gave her mates a puzzled look. Why were they staring at her like she’d grown a second head? As she stood thinking how to respond to their jest, the statue opened its eyes, moved, and spoke! Liddea stepped back and bumped into Fronc, who was standing behind her.

  “Liddea, I am pleased to finally have the opportunity to introduce myself to you. I was very concerned when I learned of your abduction and equally relieved to hear you were rescued and back with us. Please, sit and make yourselves comfortable. Zeal already told me how he, Tulip, Fronc, Nester, and Lily—pardon me, I meant Mehrle—rescued the poor girl, Inara.” Iris gave Mehrle a quick wink.

  Liddea saw Tulip nudged Mehrle with an elbow. “Flower names are the best, right, Lily?”

  Mehrle blushed and looked away.

  Iris lowered herself, gathering her visitors in front of her.

  Liddea discovered she was seated yet couldn’t remember how she’d gotten down. It was a good thing she was already on the ground, because she’d become lightheaded and begun to sweat. She leaned over and placed her head between her knees.

  Zeal, sitting next to her, began to rub her back. “Are you all right, Liddea?”

  “I’ll be fine. Iris was not what—no, I mean who I was expecting to meet here.” She straightened and looked at each of her companions. How could they act so composed? Having a living, moving, talking statue smile at you was not normal and had frightened her. She was determined not to let them get the best of her, so she took a few moments to arrange her thoughts, draw in a deep breath, and slowly let it out.

  Iris leaned toward Liddea. “Your actions on board the ship were conducted bravely, young one. You did well. Now learn from your experience so that you’ll be able to face future challenges with equal competence. Know you are safe and will always be so with me.”

  Zeal touched Iris on the arm. “Iris, can we show Liddea our Lair? Everyone else would like to put their kits away.”

  “But of course.” She looked directly at Liddea. “Welcome home. Feel free to come and visit me at any time. Knowledge of my existence should not to be discussed outside of the confines of the mausoleum, nor with anyone who is not here with you now.”

  Liddea nodded. “I understand.”

  Iris stood and stepped off the dais, which slid to the side.

  “Come, Liddea.” Zeal guided her down the steps where everyone joined hands. As he led her down the dark corridor and the platform closed, all light disappeared.

  Above them, Iris stepped onto the platform and turned to face the entrance to the mausoleum. Obin opened the door, allowing Izlan to enter. “Well, Matriarch, do you have a question for me?”

  Izlan approached her. “I just wanted to confirm my suspicions. Did you supply the children with their weapons and kit?”

  “Yes, as I did yours.”

  Izlan nodded. “I trust you and know that you have their best interest at heart and will involve me if ever you feel there is a need. Is there anything I should be aware of or any way I can help?”

  “There will be a time soon, I have foreseen, when we will need to talk about the children. You will know when. Do you want to inform the young ones that you are mindful of my involvement? If so, you can go down to them.”

  “Not at this time. Let them continue to think I’m unaware of their secret.”

  “I chose well when I picked you. Do you have a personal matter in your life you would like to discuss? It seems that Charion thinks you should consider the man, Slag.”

  “Now, don’t you start!” Izlan laughed. “You must be trying to distract me, if you dare to change the subject in such an obvious way.”

  “Or maybe I am attempting to get to the heart of a matter of concern that is important to you,” Iris countered.

  “On that note, I’ll take my leave. Be well, my Lady.” Izlan turned and began walking to the entrance.

  “Leave with my blessing, daughter.” Iris smiled knowingly.

  Obin closed the door behind Izlan as she left.

  Iris redirected her attention to the children, extending a portion of her awareness into their chamber. She was able to watch and listen, as if she were present in their room, while Liddea marveled over learning about her existence, the hidden passage, and the contents of the Lair.

  She laughed as her companions shared their personal introductions to Iris. “Have any of you ever wondered who Iris is and where all this came from?”

  After a long silence from everyone in the room, Zeal gestured. “Iris has gifted us with all this.”

  “But why would she?

  “Liddea, as I told Tulip and the others, whatever you want to know about Iris, you must ask her yourself. Just like the rest have done.”

  Liddea was momentarily taken back. Where had this serious side of Zeal been hiding? “I was just curious. You don’t have to snap at me.”

  Mehrle quickly interjected, “Zeal isn’t being short with you, Liddea, but if you want answers, just talk to Iris.”

  Nester leaned toward Liddea. “Sounds like you are just mad because you are the last to know about all of this.”

  “Well, maybe a little,” Liddea admitted. “I’ve had a lot to discover, and you all act like this happens every day. I think I’m overreacting because I am still a little out of sorts.”

  “We are all happy to have you back with us. I hope, if it had been me abducted, that I would have handled myself half as well.” Fronc moved to sit by Liddea and then reached over to clasp her hand in both of his. “We are family, and when you were taken, a part of each of us was stolen, as well.”

  Liddea closed her eyes to hold back the tears she had refused to shed during and after her ordeal. When she felt someone grasp her other hand, she opened her eyes and discovered Tulip. She was surrounded by her family. Nester gripped one shoulder and Mehrle the other. Zeal moved behind her and rested his chin on the top of her head. The tears came, and the six of them cried together.

  Up above, Iris smiled, knowing all would be well.

  ***

  Later, while sitting in the Temple common room for the evening meal, they were joined at their table by Bell.

  “It is nice to have you back safe and sound, Liddea. How are you all doing?” She picked up a bread roll and started applying butter to it.

  A chorus of “fine,” “okay,” and “good,” echoed along with Liddea’s answer. “I am doing much better, thank you. Do you have something to tell us?”

  Bell added jam to the butter on the roll before taking a large bite. She closed her eyes and savored the flavors before swallowing. “I came to see how you were all holding up and to let you know the Trade Master has given you a holiday for the next few suns.” She studied the apprentices while she ate and was amazed at how much the ch
ildren had grown and the confidence they had acquired. Although they were already quite skilled, their journeys had just started, and there was still much more for them to learn.

  “What about our meetings with Master Qwen?” Fronc inquired.

  “That’s right. You haven’t been told. Qwen has business he has to attend to and had to leave Arlanda. He’ll resume your testing on his return.”

  “But how long will he be gone?”

  “Well, Fronc, he’ll be away as long as it takes. Hopefully, no more than half a moon, but it might possibly be longer. I don’t know exactly what he is doing, so I can’t give you a precise duration. You’ll be informed when he returns. Till then, enjoy your free time.” Bell reached for another roll and started to cover it with a generous amount of butter. “By the way, I must tell Cook that these rolls are good.” She liberally spread the roll with jam before walking away.

  “Doesn’t that just feel like having a bird crap on your head? I was supposed to meet with Qwen next,” Fronc groused.

  Zeal followed Bell’s retreating form with his eyes. “Fronc, this is bigger than bird poop. We’ve never received a holiday since we became apprentices. Something is not right.”

  Tulip put down her cup. “Zeal may be on to something. I bet Master Slag and the others are looking further into Liddea’s abduction. The time off they have given us is their way of keeping us out of the way.

  “I needed to talk to Qwen. He needs to know about the discovery I made in the chamber the girls and I were kept in.” Liddea threw her hands up. “Who knows how long it will be before we see him again.”

  “What discovery?” Fronc pointed to the butter. “Would you pass that over?”

  “You remember the runes? Qwen needs to be told about them. I never saw him on the ship after the rescue and wondered why he wasn’t present.”

  “You’ll need more of this.” Nester handed Fronc the jam. “That just doesn’t seem like Qwen. When we listened in while the plans for freeing you were made, Qwen had a role assigned to him by the Trade Master.”

  “Actually, I think Qwen might possibly have been present. He is a Practitioner, after all.” Zeal took a sip of tea and set the cup down. “The urgent question is how do we find out what the adults are doing?”

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  IT WAS EARLY afternoon when Ice and Mirada stepped off of the White Swan onto the docks of Arlanda. The ship had finally passed the customs inspection and the passengers allowed to disembark. His and Mirada’s time as Envoys for the Enclaves of Havensharth was near completion. The Swan would call at one more port before taking them home.

  Ice stopped one of the workers. “Excuse me, but can you direct us to a place to stay that is moderately priced with good food and sleepers that don’t bite?”

  “And it has to have a bath with plenty of hot water,” Mirada added.

  The dockhand pointed. “You go down the boardwalk here, this direction. Four roads down is Branch Street. You get onto Branch and stay on it till you come to the Widow Kipper’s place, called the Slumbering Giant, situated on the right side of the road. There be a sign out front, so you can’t miss it. You tell her Dante sent you. The Widow will take right good care of you.”

  “Thank you.” Mirada shook Dante’s hand. Ice saw a couple of coins left behind.

  Dante smiled and pocketed the money. “Is there anything else I can do to help you folks?”

  “That’s all we need.” Ice picked up his kit and followed Mirada, who’d already begun to walk away. His long legs allowed him to easily catch up to her. He studied the city’s inhabitants as they walked and tried to gauge the feel of Arlanda. One could tell a lot about a city and its people not only by how friendly they were to one another but also to strangers. Passersby made eye contact and wished a pleasant morn to him and Mirada. He wondered if Arlanda was as welcoming a city after dark.

  They turned up Branch Street leaving the docks behind them.

  “When was the last time you saw your former commander, Mirada?”

  She glanced his way. “It’s been thirteen, no, a little over twelve seasons. The commander told me a Temple in Arlanda was going to be her final destination. The main reason I told Greyhook that I would volunteer to go on this mission was because one of the ports the White Swan was putting into was Arlanda. Are you certain your mentor is still in the city?”

  “Master Feneas would have notified me if he’d relocated. I’ll find him here.” Like Mirada, he had made his decision upon learning the Swan’s itinerary. But unlike her, he didn’t have someone waiting for him on his return.

  A little more than a quarter of a mark later, he saw the sign for the Slumbering Giant up ahead. Surrounded by a low stone wall, the gates at the entrance of the two-story inn were standing open. He snorted when he saw the hinges were fused in place by rust. The windows weren’t barred, and it wouldn’t take much effort to enter the building from above or below, if one wanted access. He made a mental note to not leave any valuables in his chamber, even if its door was equipped with a good lock, which he doubted.

  He smelled a stable next to an outbuilding. Spring flowers were just coming into bloom in a few of the beds on the well-kept grounds. As he followed Mirada into the inn and smelled both fresh bread and some kind of beast roasting, his stomach rumbled, reminding him it needed attention.

  A woman of over fifty seasons, wearing an apron over a work woman’s blouse and skirt, stepped out of the front door as they approached. Flour dusted her forehead and nose. “Can I help you?” she asked.

  Mirada spoke up. “We are looking for Widow Kipper. We were sent by Dante to inquire about lodging.”

  “I am Widow Kipper.” Ice smiled as the woman appraised them and came to a decision. “I have a room available.”

  “Actually, we need two rooms,” Mirada corrected. “One for each of us.”

  “I am sorry. I wrongly assumed you were together. I have two rooms open. Do you want to be near each other?”

  Ice said, “Nearby would be fine.”

  “Would you like meals with your lodging?”

  Mirada sniffed toward him. “Meals and a bath, as well.”

  “How long do you plan to stay?”

  He shifted his stance and gazed around. “Less than a quarter of a moon, I would say.”

  “The rooms include two meals a day. You can bathe as often as you like. I have a small bath house with separate areas for males and females. Laundry service is available. Animals are allowed, but you pay extra. You eat what I cook unless for health reasons you need something special. Daily cost is four silvers per person. Drink is not included. We brew a pleasant-tasting brown ale, a crisp-flavored pale ale with just the right amount of bitters, and a moderately sweet mead that has a smooth finish and tastes so good it is a danger to indulge. Folks don’t discover the kick it carries until they’ve had a bit too much. So be forewarned.”

  “I, for one, accept your offer. What about you?” Mirada asked Ice.

  “It sounds fine,” he answered back.

  “Who would you be, if you do not mind my asking? I like to know the names of the guests who stay at my place.”

  “I’m Mirada, and you can call this-long legged male without any social training Ice. If he gives you any trouble, you come see me.” She gave the innkeeper a wink.

  He rolled his eyes skyward. “Mirada wants a bath, but the aromas from your kitchen have my undivided attention. You can drop me off there with some of the bread I smell and give my keeper here the full tour.”

  Widow Kipper chuckled and took the coins Mirada offered. “Well, let’s go tour the kitchen first. I’ll sit you down at the breakfast table in the corner and serve you up a snack.”

  He followed behind Mirada while their hostess led them through a common room populated with tables, bar, and large fireplace. Steps led up to the next level. He noted that whoever attended the bar had a good view of the stairs but not of the patrons sitting at tables. It made sense th
at the owner would want to know who was coming and going.

  As they entered the kitchen, there was dough on one of the counters that Widow Kipper had been working. A small stack of pie pans and a crock of canned stone fruit to be used as a filling was next to the dough. There was one other person working in the kitchen, a man who looked to be a contemporary of Widow Kipper in age. He was stuffing small birds with herbs. Although dressed in work clothes, the man’s well-developed upper body was clearly visible. The fellow had the build of a man who’d made a living once wearing armor and working with a sword and board. The man was either lucky or had been good at his trade, to have survived and retired from that vocation. He looked like he still kept in shape.

  “Breck, these are two new guests, the Lady Mirada and Master Ice.” The Widow turned to them both. “If you need anything and I am not available, feel free to ask Breck. He will be either here in the kitchen or, when things get busy, at the bar.”

  Breck remained silent but gave the Widow a nod before continuing his preparation of the birds.

  “Now, you both sit over here and have a bite to eat. A full stomach will do you good, Lady Mirada. It will be a bit before the evening meal is served. Then I will show you to your rooms and take you to the baths after.”

  Ice raised a brow when Mirada made no complaint.

  The Widow soon returned with bread still warm from the oven, small crocks containing butter and beryl jam, and two plates. She then retrieved a platter of sliced fruit, cheese, and smoked white fish and added a pitcher of water along with two cups on the table.

  “I’ll be back in a few, after I’ve prepared your rooms with fresh linens. I expect you both to be clean when you crawl into my sleepers. No dirty feet on my sheets.”

  Ice concentrated on eating. Breck’s presence prevented him from conducting a private discussion with Mirada. All too soon, he found the platter was empty and the slice of bread in his hand the last one left. He gave Mirada a look filled with guilt. “This is very good bread. Do you want this piece?”