Freelance Heroics (Firesign Book 2)

by Stephen W. Gee

  Mazik nudged the door out of the way with his boot. He drew a pair of daggers. “Heads, yes. I never said anything about doors.”

  They passed down the entry hallway and moved into the living area. It was empty. Empty of people, as well as most everything else. Chief Boern’s furnishings were decidedly sparse—two loveseats, a low coffee table, a chest of drawers, and a long hardwood banquet table that looked out of place amid the scant furnishings. Coupled with the large footprint of his house, the room looked vacant.

  Mazik didn’t hear anyone, but he didn’t relax. He examined the room further. The walls hung with old paintings, all of them clearly done by amateurs, albeit enthusiastic ones. They depicted landscapes, and several had dust on their frames. Old dishes sat crusting in the sink. The banquet table held more dishes, as well as books and papers and folders, all piled together in disorganized heaps that threatened to flow onto the floor. In one corner of the room was a drying rack for clean clothing. It was empty. The corner behind it, though, was full of dirty clothing. To the left of the entry hallway was a food dish for a dog, as well as a singed target dummy with a metal splash shield behind it for spellcasting practice.

  “Boern isn’t married, right?” Mazik tiptoed to his left, nudging open a door. It was a closet, filled with cold weather clothing and not much else.

  “Not anymore.” Hyra picked up a book on the arm of a sofa and inspected it. She set it back down. “He’s a widow. His wife died … how many years ago?”

  Caspian shrugged. “Search me. Ten? I wasn’t that old when it happened.”

  “She was nice. Older than him.” Hyra pointed at the paintings. “Those were her idea. I’m told they painted them together. They’d been together since long before he became the chief, before he was even with the Adāst. They were happy, supposedly.”

  There was a note of sadness in Hyra’s voice. It sounded like she felt bad for the chief. If his wife was dead, and he had truly loved her, Mazik could understand that.

  Raedren stepped up beside her, his voice calm. “We’ll apologize if he didn’t do anything. For now, we need to be sure.”

  That spurred Mazik back into action. “All right, tracker boy, time to earn your keep. Or, I guess this is your job in the first place, so time to prove your stuff. Or something.” Mazik waved at the room. “Magick up and see what you get. Gavs, let’s check the other rooms.”

  Gavi grabbed Mazik’s arm before he took two steps. “Let him use his magick first, so you don’t get your tracks all over the place.”

  Mazik grumbled, but let himself be pulled back toward the entry hallway. He watched as Caspian swept the room with his glowing patch. Caspian frowned.

  “What is it?” asked Gavi.

  “There are colors all over this place. Mostly him and what I assume is his hound.” He looked at his arm, and then swept the room. “Yup. Even mine. How often do you come here Effami?”

  “Once in a while.” She was in the back of the group, with only Raedren between her and the door. “If he’s not at his office when I need to give a report, sometimes I meet him here.”

  Caspian glanced at her through the patch. “Thought so. Looks like there’s even a few of your hairs over there.” He pointed to a ball of dusty hair that had collected in the corner. He wrinkled his nose. “He needs to clean more often.”

  Mazik was inspecting the target dummy. Most of the marks were on the target’s waist or stomach—from the chief’s spellhound, he assumed. But several were on its shoulders and chest. “How good of a caster is the chief?”

  “Not very good.” Caspian glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, that? He’s had that for years. He’s not very good, but he keeps up his practice. He can do a little evocation at least.”

  “Good to know.” Mazik straightened. “Might I suggest you check the bedroom? That potentially-sleeping-with-the-traitor angle and all that.”

  “Right.”

  While Caspian inspected the bed, the others clustered around the bedroom door. “Ah. Two colors. We might have a winner.” Caspian kneeled and squinted at the rumpled quilts. He waved at them like he was urging them closer. “Somebody give me some light here.”

  “Right-o.” Mazik extended a finger, and a blue-white orb flashed to life above it. He leaned close so Caspian could see better.

  “Ahh, here we go.” He plucked a long, fuzzy brown hair off the floor. It was almost as long as Mazik’s belt. Caspian held it up for Hyra to see. “What do you think. Hers?”

  Hyra nodded. “It looks like it.”

  “I realize now that we probably should have asked this before, but I just realized we don’t know what Rhea looks like.” Mazik nodded at the hair. “I take it she has long hair?”

  “Oh, yes.” Hyra held out her arms like she was holding a bag of raked leaves. “She has really big hair. It’s curly and … poufy? She ties it back, so it looks like there’s a balloon following her.”

  Caspian held the hair to his patch and chanted a spell. The patch tugged at his hands, and he turned until it stopped. He was facing the wall.

  Mazik pictured the village’s layout, and traced where the patch’s arrow was pointing. “South. That could be pointing outside of town.”

  “Could be,” agreed Caspian. “There are still buildings between here and there. We need to check before we know for sure.”

  That’s when the front door fell off its hinges, and Mazik nearly jumped out of his skin. As Gavi, Raedren, and Hyra spun and stiffened, Mazik and Caspian pushed their way out of the bedroom.

  Chief Boern stood in his shattered doorway. One hand was on the doorframe as he carefully stepped over the debris from their entry. His personal spellhound, a big white-blond male, was already at the end of the entry hall, growling at the intruders.

  The leader of the Nijāst clasped his hands behind his back and did his best to look stern. “I’m going to need someone to explain what’s going on.”

  Mazik’s heart sped up, and it didn’t stop pounding. With excitement, he realized, not fear. This was like the moment before a sale happens, when all your hard work comes down to win or lose, either the customer signs on the line or you go home hungry.

  Here, though, maybe it was more like gambling, because the stakes were higher and their team was playing with a weak hand. We’ve got a rough theory and maybe one piece of evidence, a hair which he’s going to try to discredit no matter the truth. We’re playing with like two pair, and I have no clue what’s in this guy’s hand.

  Mazik was loving this.

  He pitched his voice low, so it boomed when he spoke. “Chief Boern, you’re accused of cooperating with the enemy. We have proof that you had an affair with Rhea Enc’Ordwinn, and have been plotting with the mercenaries you’ve brought into town to finish what she started. Give up now peacefully and we’ll take you into custody.”

  There was a split-second pause—and then Chief Boern pulled back, as if he had been struck, and reacted with surprise, and disbelief, and a palpable note of betrayal. Their betrayal of him.

  “What? No, that’s impossible. I would never do that.” He looked to Caspian and Hyra, and his expression was crestfallen. “You two, as well? Why? What have I done to you?”

  “We just found evidence of your affair in your bedroom.” Mazik’s expression was as stony as his voice. He tapped his ear, and began inventing wildly. “We also just heard back from Captain Sie. Some of your coconspirators ratted on you. Apparently, people who are hired to betray their employers aren’t terribly loyal.” He cocked his head to the side, and his smile was not a kind one. “Who knew?”

  Mazik could feel Caspian and Hyra’s disbelief. He wished they were as used to his methods as Gavi and Raedren were, who didn’t react at all. Mazik knew they were playing with a weak hand, so he didn’t see any harm in bluffing. He kept his expression even. Let’s see if he bites.

  Chief Boern didn’t bite—or he was innocent, Mazik reminded himself. The Nijāst leader shook his head, slowly, his disbelief clear.
>
  “No, no, no. That can’t be. I don’t understand why you would say this. All I’ve ever done is try to help this village, my people.” Chief Boern looked like the world was falling apart around him.

  Mazik could feel the others wavering, and he could feel it in himself as well. But he reminded himself that the best liars could lie about anything, and that this man was a politician. Lying was a tool, and if anyone in the Nijāst village was good at using it, it would be Boern. Or maybe it’s the person who sold me this idea. Knapp, the guy who sells spellhounds for a living …

  Mazik affected an air of effortless calm as he walked forward. The spellhound growled, and Mazik stopped midway between the two groups.

  “That may have all been true at one point, but that’s none of my concern. We’ve got evidence of your relationship with the traitor, we’ve got testimony from your coconspirators, and what do you think will happen when we ask the rest of your mercenaries?” Mazik kept his voice light and conversational. “Oh, and we’ll be sure to offer to pay them. Even if you didn’t keep records of what you owed them, I’m sure they know. Are you sure that none of them will want the easy payout, instead of all this deception?” He shrugged, then chuckled. “Adventurers are awfully fickle people, after all. We would know.”

  Chief Boern kept shaking his head, and took a step back. “You’re lying. You’re bluffing, to try to find a scapegoat and get a better reward.”

  Mazik grinned, a demon’s smile. “No, we’re not. You’re stalling. Admit it now and you’ll still have a chance to come up with some tale about how you were forced to do it. Maybe you’ll get some sympathy. But if you keep denying it, you’re going to hang.”

  Chief Boern’s legs were shaking. He looked like he was going to collapse. He shook his head, moaning.

  Mazik sighed and glanced back at his allies. “Caspian, can you get us some tempered bonds? Raedren, restrain him so we can take him back to Sie.”

  Claws scrabbled on wood, rapidly closing. Mazik was already lunging to the side before he could swing his head back around.

  Chief’s Boern’s spellhound went flashing past Mazik, its jaws clacking as it narrowly missed his neck. As Mazik’s foot planted on the floorboards, desperately stabilizing his lurch, he heard Chief Boern speaking in a language that was both unknown and familiar. Mazik turned in time to see Boern flow several paces out the door, his body blurring. Mazik recognized what had happened instantly—a Noble Hunt spell. Then Chief Boern spoke again, and his spellhound tackled Mazik, neon green mana exploding from its fur as it bore Mazik to the ground.

  “Get him!” Mazik shouted around a mouthful of fur. The spellhound snapped at him, but he had drawn his black-bladed dagger before he fell, and the hound’s mana barrier sparked as it ripped open its cheeks on Mazik’s weapon.

  “Berry, no!” Hyra snapped at the spellhound, and a high-pitched whistle split the air. “No! Down! Down!”

  The spellhound looked at her, confused. Mazik guessed she had trained the dog. What he knew for sure was that they didn’t have time to deal with it. He spoke out of the corner of his mouth. “Rae, prepare barriers. Gavs, open the closest door.”

  Gavi ran for the nearest room, the one they hadn’t checked yet, and in doing so drew the dog’s attention. That distraction was better than Mazik had hoped for. As Gavi threw open the door, Mazik planted his hands on the animal’s chest and lifted, picking up the big dog over his head like a struggling, snapping barbell. As the spellhound’s teeth ripped into his sleeve—though then green barriers appeared around Mazik, turning aside the snarling attacks—Mazik took two steps and hurled the beast into the open room like a sack of grain.

  The spellhound yelped as it landed, and then sprang back to its feet, but Gavi was already slamming the door in its face. No more than a second later, a heavy weight slammed into the door, but it held.

  “How did any of what you just said to him work!?” snapped Caspian. “It was all lies!”

  “I told you lying was my thing.” Mazik realized that all five of them were still there. “Well, I guess that ‘get him!’ thing didn’t happen.”

  “You’re welcome for helping you,” said Gavi, grabbing his arm as she headed for the door.

  The five of them stampeded outside. Chief Boern was nowhere to be seen. Mazik looked around, trying to figure out which way he had gone. It had been, he realized, no more than an hour since Gavi and Caspian were attacked by the traitorous Adāst, and now it was nearly dark. The sun had already set behind the mountains, and the stars were coming out in force.

  A new light blossomed overhead. Neon green light exploded in a starburst above the rooftops, for a second matching the guild symbol tattooed onto Mazik, Gavi, and Raedren’s bodies. While the others stared at it, Mazik traced it back to its source. “The kennel.”

  “I bet that’s him,” said Gavi.

  As they sprinted for the center of town, the sound of combat arose around them—and shouts of outrage and surprise, as Nijāst exclaimed in horror as their allies turned on them. Mazik shook his head. “Sometimes, I hate being right.”

  “No you don’t,” said Raedren. “Don’t lie.”

  “Shut up and run,” said Gavi.

  *

  Mazik ran as fast as he was able, bursts of alteration magick shooting from his heels like he had rockets tied to his boots. Gavi kept up as best she could, while Raedren kept pace with Hyra and Caspian, who, between her lack of regular exercise and his injured leg, weren’t able to keep up at all. But speed was of the essence, so Mazik showed them the meaning of speed. He practically flew.

  He turned onto the main avenue, the kennel coming into view, and Chief Boern with it. The treacherous chieftain had been collecting adventurers and mercenaries to himself and had a small crowd with him by the time he scuttled through the gap in the kennel’s squat fence. His allies unleashed a vicious salvo of arrows and spells on the Nijāst defenders in the yard, who began to scream.

  Mazik didn’t slow. His feet ate up the distance as he swerved around confused villagers, hurdled the kennel fence, and thrust his hand forward with a spell swirling in his palm. “Mazik Missiles!”

  Boern’s head shot up, but he already had the kennel door open and was halfway inside. “Guard the door!” he snapped, and then the door slammed behind him. Blue mana crashed against the wood, and the stone near it, marking neither.

  Gavi caught up as Mazik faced off against the warriors arrayed around the front steps. Raedren, Hyra, and Caspian joined them not long after. That helped even the odds, though they still weren’t in their team’s favor.

  Eight adventurers stood against them, and four of them Mazik immediately recognized—Yintour and her guildmates in Alter of Tower. The halvelin woman was once again replete in her armor and purple cape, everything gleaming with tempered steel, mana-infused thread, and magickal enchantments. But now her helmet was on, and her sword was drawn. The same was true of her guildmates. The eight enemy adventurers stood in a half circle at the bottom of the steps, protecting the door from anyone who tried to enter or lurk in wait for Chief Boern’s return.

  “Do you really want to do this?” snarled Mazik. Nijāst guards—those who weren’t cut down in the surprise attack—were gathering around them, responding to Caspian’s shouts. More were coming. But enemies were rushing for the kennel too—more turncoat adventurers, and even a few Adāst, though Mazik could hear the sounds of fighting from the edges of town as well. The Riders of the Noble Hunt had begun their assault.

  Yintour nodded, and to Mazik’s eye, the gesture seemed sad. “Afraid so, lad.”

  “So be it.” Mana coalesced in Mazik’s cupped palms. “Mazik Mega Cannon!”

  Gavi pointed with her sword. “Attack!”

  One of Yintour’s guildmates stepped forward to intercept Mazik’s spell, and his mana sloughed off the man’s armor without effect. But Mazik and the others were right behind it. Mazik dodged past the big man and lunged at Yintour, his dagger searching for her relatively li
ghtly armored chest. She pivoted and deflected the blade with her shoulderguards, then swung her sword, driving him back.

  Mazik snarled, and attacked again.

  And again. And again. And again. As Mazik kept attacking, something quickly became apparent. They’re not fighting back. They’re just pushing us back. They’re not attacking.

  “Far be it from me to mention something that could get me killed”—Mazik fired on Yintour at point-blank range. A barrier rose to catch it—“but why the hell aren’t you fighting back?”

  “This is just a job.” Yintour held her sword low, threatening an attack, though so far she hadn’t taken advantage of any of the openings presented to her. “And a distasteful one at that. We’re doing it because our leader accepted a quest from an old friend, and because we keep our promises, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to kill for it. There would be no honor in it.”

  “There’s no honor in this now. People are dying because of what you’re doing,” snapped Mazik as his next spell glanced off Yintour’s helmet.

  “Aye.” Yintour’s voice sounded regretful, but she didn’t lower her blade. “This is a harsh world.”

  “You’re making it harsher,” spat Mazik.

  More people poured into the kennel yard, both allies and enemies, turning it into a chaotic melee. It reminded Mazik, for a mad second, of the spellhound pups wrestling inside, only not nearly so adorable. It was all made worse by the inherent confusion. No one was sure whose side anyone was on, not with adventurers and Nijāst on both sides. Hyra and Caspian were spending much of their time yelling, trying to keep their allies from attacking each other.

  “More coming from behind us,” said Raedren. He was at Mazik and Gavi’s back, casting barriers on everybody he could.

  “I know. Hold them.” Mazik kicked one of the Alterites in the shin, and earned a stubbed toe for his trouble.

  The kennel door cracked open, and suddenly Yintour and the others were pushing forward. The circle widened, making way for Chief Boern to emerge—with a hostage.