by David Ekrut
“You fool. We need to get off this ship, and neither of us can fly.”
Feffer held up what was left of his pole. “Get back. I’m not going with you.”
“Yes. You are. We do not have time for this.”
Zeth’s pupils stretched, engulfing the whites of his eyes. Dark fog seeped out of his sockets. His arms and legs elongated, turning black as they grew.
In the distance, Feffer saw the dragon stop with a sudden jerk. Its great head turned, eyes fixed on Zeth. Feffer backed away from him. The black savant followed Feffer’s gaze. Before the man could act, the dragon spoke more of the odd language. It disappeared then reappeared above the ship as if perched on an invisible ledge.
Zeth took two long strides toward the side of the ship. Just as he leapt, the dragon seized him. Again, the dragon spoke the strange words. Zeth’s shrill voice pierced the air.
When the dragon made the sucking sound, the dark surrounding the man’s limbs sloughed off like melting snow, leaving behind a pale form. Once finished, the dragon dropped Zeth’s body to the deck of the ship. He grunted as he bounced. When he stopped rolling, Zeth laid, unmoving.
The dragon stared at Feffer, its turquoise eyes unblinking. Feffer held his breath, afraid the movement would entice the thing into action.
The lips of its mouth twitched upward on one side, as though smirking. Lights swirled around its wings, and the dragon surged upward. Winds buffeted the deck, strong enough to throw Feffer to the side. He grasped a rope and held on until the force abated.
He stumbled toward the mast and held on, watching the dragon—the thumping dragon—soar above. This wasn’t real. He would wake any second. But he didn’t. He felt the breeze, now cool, on his cheeks. The large creature dove toward the ocean. Its claws skimmed the water like a gull hunting fish. Its large body dove in and came out seconds later, holding a cage. The savant inside struck against the bars, terror in her eyes. The dragon spoke, then they both vanished.
Feffer looked at the carnage. His knees became weak, but he forced himself to stay upright.
There was a groan behind him. It was Zeth. The black savant had rolled to his back. He stared at the sky with a stunned expression. His cheeks were ashen.
Feffer knelt beside the man, surprised at the pity he felt for his abductor.
The dragon had been about to leave. Why did it come back? And why had it let Feffer live? For that matter, it hadn’t killed Zeth. It had only … what?
Zeth jerked to a sitting position and seized hold of Feffer’s tunic. His expression was panicked, eyes filled with horror.
“I cannot … feel my essence.”
“What?”
“There is nothing. I cannot,” his lip quivered, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I cannot tame the Elements.”
The taming. It had come back when Zeth had tamed. That sucking sound. It had eaten Zeth’s essence and those of the other savants.
“The Lifebringer save us,” Feffer breathed.
“Stand clear of him.”
Feffer turned to see Jasmine walking up the steps with a slight limp. Wisps of light appeared around her. Dragons take him, she was about to tame.
He flung himself in front of Zeth. “No! Don’t tame anything.”
“Move,” Jasmine said with lights still winking in and out of existence around her.
“You don’t understand,” Feffer said, pushing the words out as quickly as his tongue would allow. “The dragon. It stole Zeth’s essence. It’ll come back.”
Doubt was plain on Jasmine’s face, but the lights around her cut off abruptly. She examined Zeth for a few seconds. Her eyes widened in surprise. “That is impossible.”
Feffer looked around, fully expecting the dragon to come down on them. But it was gone. Still, he did not breath easily.
“Look,” Feffer said, pointing. “There is a skiff. I can row us to the shore.”
“First, I need to take care of that one.” Jasmine retrieved a sword from beneath a dead sailor.
Feffer felt a mountain of annoyance at not seeing the weapon sooner. He threw aside what was left of his mop handle.
As she approached, Zeth lifted his head, baring his neck to her. “Get it over with.”
“Wait.” Feffer stepped between them.
“Move aside, Feffer. That is an order.”
“But look at him. He’s pitiful.”
“Did he not kill your loved ones and destroy your town?”
Feffer thought of his father and all the people who had died at Zeth’s hands. She was right, but still. “Letting him live is almost more punishment than death.”
Jasmine lowered the sword, nodding. “Find some rope and bind his hands. Perhaps, we can get information out of him.”
As Feffer turned, Zeth scrambled to his feet and dove for the ocean. By the time Feffer reached the rail, Zeth Lifesbane was gone, only a ripple atop the ocean where he had dived in.
Jasmine stood beside him, looking down. The silence stretched on for several minutes. Zeth did not resurface.
The elementalist turned to regard Feffer. He was surprised to realize she was not as tall as him. She’d always seemed so much larger.
“Apparently,” Jasmine said at last, “Zeth agreed with your assessment. I cannot say I am saddened from his death. Come. Zaak is waiting for me in Northport.”
“What about Elwin. Everyone is alright?”
“Aye. Last night, I scried Zaak from the shadow realm. He had been preparing a contingent to pursue this vessel, but this is a feast for the crows now. After today, we have much to discuss, and I wish to catch Zaak before the vessel departs.”
“If you intend to fly, I’d prefer to stay here.”
“No. I think you are right. Until we understand what is happening, caution is necessary. Grab some oars, soldier. And fishing gear. It will be a long trip to Northport. Be quick about it. This ship is sinking.”
After they lowered into the water, Feffer rowed them away from the marooned vessel. He thought about the last hour, still not quite sure any of this was real.
He’d been taken captive by Zeth and those black savants. If not for that dragon, he’d be holding a few broken picks and trapped inside that cell, well on his way to be Bain Solsec’s prisoner. Now he was on a boat, rowing toward the rocky coast.
That dragon had saved him. Not that he wanted to thank it or ever see the thing again. Still, this changed everything.
Thunder rolled in the distance. Blue skies above gave way to a wall of dark clouds on the horizon. Energy crackled through the storm front. Tendrils of energy escaped the web of crackling light and arced down to the ocean.
“That is not a natural storm,” Jasmine said.
“What do you mean? Not natural? Did the dragons do this?”
“I do not know, but it was crafted with the Elements. No ship could have survived going through it.”
“But that means without the dragons, the savants would have sailed us into our deaths?”
“It appears so, but I would not count the dragons as our allies just yet. Row faster. I do not wish to be caught in the open if that storm sweeps this way.”
Feffer looked at the small lifeboat then glanced back at the storm. Lifebringer save them. If that thing came their way, nothing could save them.
Chapter 3
Deals with the Underworld
Carpeci,
Do not forget your promise to the Father. He will come to collect his debts with far less mercy than you have shown your enemies. Bring the rogue under your thumb, nudge him onto the path. Much depends on the lordling’s influence upon the prodigal son. Do this, and your place in the new kingdom will be assured. Forsake your promise and you will envy those wretches in your dungeon.
~His Messenger, 2999 A.S.
~
Jaxton Fliste surrende
red his saber and dagger to the brute standing at the entry before walking into the warehouse. It would have been nice to have Jesnia waiting in the alley, watching for signs of trouble, but she’d abandoned them for another bounty. Daren would have to do until he could hire mercenaries for his cause.
Several armed men stood around an iron chair that was bolted to the floor. A woman sat with her arms manacled behind her back. Tears escaped from her blindfold and streamed down her face. Soft whimpers were muffled by her gag.
Dalthumas Carpeci’s thick hand rested on the prisoner’s shoulder. His thumb rubbed gently on the woman’s neck. Though he tried to hide it with a well-manicured beard, Carpeci’s thick scar was still visible. It ran from the side of his face just beside his ear to his square chin. He wore a tailored tunic and cloak over a blocky frame, but no weapons as far as Jax could see.
“Jaxton Fliste.” A genuine smile spread across Carpeci’s broad face. His accent was that of someone from Norscelt. “It pleases me to see you well.”
“It pleases me to be well.”
When Carpeci gave a soft chuckle, his men laughed as though Jax had made the most hysterical jest. Carpeci raised a hand, and they quieted.
His tone became serious. “Why have you requested this audience?”
“Thank you for seeing me,” Jax said. “I understand you know where to find a certain cave of interest to me.”
“I know of a few caverns of note. How much is this information valued to you?”
“Five hundred roses. And another five for your silence.”
“Freeing slaves is worth this much to you?”
Jax could not hide his surprise. Any news from Kalicodon scarcely had time to reach here. How could anyone know Jax’s business with his father?
Another soft chuckle, echoed by hysteria from the lackeys. “You might have heard many horrible rumors about me, Jaxton Fliste, but my first business has always been information. I get it before my competition, so I can sell it. Would you like to purchase what I know of you as well?”
“How much?”
“Two thousand in addition to the thousand promised.”
From what Jax had heard, Carpeci would get as much as he wanted from Jax regardless of the agreed amount. So dickering was pointless and turning down any information would be foolish.
“Done,” Jax said. “What do you know?”
“Your recent actions in the tribal nation to our east has brought you many enemies at home and abroad. Your success has made many look at you as a potential adversary. Many others question where your priorities reside.”
“I’m impressed,” Jax admitted. “I have not been here long, and you know much, it appears.”
He smirked. “Such flattery, and I have only revealed the fin of this Merfolk beauty. Would you like to see her face?”
Jax nodded.
“Your father peddles slaves and also wants you to come to heel or will see you dead. All the while, your cries to nobility have fallen on deaf ears, because he carries the favor which titles bring. At this very moment, you carry in your tunic pocket a letter from Magistrate Penthrop demanding proof of Brinnon’s crimes. This is why you seek me, no? You believe this cave to be the cursing evidence needed to destroy your father. Would you like my advice?”
“I am not certain I have the coins to spare.”
He smiled. “This I gift you. Your trust of the law is folly. Their order only enriches their pockets. Penthrop will not help to free those in the mines.”
“So, I should what … take the law into my own hands?”
“No. To do so, you would knock into the walls of my kingdom, but I am always in need of good barons. You would do fine, I would think.”
“Now I am the one who is flattered, but I would make a terrible leader, what with the need to burn my father’s empire to the ground and all.”
“You will succeed in this as well. I have no doubt. When that business is finished with you, come to see me. We will speak of your potential once more.”
“I will,” he lied.
“Now,” Carpeci said, patting the prisoner’s shoulder. “After my payment for services is rendered, you have my leave.”
“Wait,” Jax said. “You still haven’t told me where he’s hiding the slavas.”
Jax emphasized the Kalicodian word for slaves out of respect for the people who had been stolen from their homes and forced into labor.
Carpeci snapped his fingers. One of his men produced a rolled up parchment and carried it over to Jax. He took it and stuffed it in next to Penthrop’s letter. Reading in front of Carpeci would be an unforgivable insult.
“Thank you,” Jax said and pulled out a diamond worth five thousand gold, one of the few remaining from his time in Kalicodon. Carpeci’s man took it and brought it back to his master.
Carpeci looked at the number etched into the side and grunted. “This places me in your debt.”
“Consider it an advance on our future dealings.”
“I do not like a balance held against me. So I will give you knowledge of equal worth to you. If you are willing?”
“Of course.”
Carpeci stepped around his men and came close enough to reach out and touch. Still, the man leaned forward and whispered, “Brinnon Fliste has purchased the slava gladus, formerly known as Eriden of the Ironclad. Together, they are planning something in the desert. From what I have gathered, they are acquiring more slaves in western Kalicodon.”
“To come here?”
He shrugged. “I can only guess as to the purpose. I can assure you, Eriden holds a grudge against you for his fall from power. The bounty on your head should reach Alcoa City by tomorrow.”
Before Jax’s visit to the desert nation, Eriden of the Ironclad had ruled as saizor suprema. More than a few people of power took note of Jax’s involvement in usurping the corrupt ruler, but if not for the Windstrider clan, Jax would have been feeding desert worms by now. Still, the saizor of the Windstriders made Jax an honorary member, complete with titles and rights as a Kalicodian, not that he planned to return anytime soon. By the blade, his own wits, and a heavy flask of luck, he’d survived Eriden’s wrath and had thought the matter settled. He could worry over this mess later.
For the other man’s sake, Jax shrugged as if none of this concerned him. “I’ve never really liked this city anyway. I think I’ll go south for a while.”
“Unless,” Carpeci said, “you wish to shelter beneath my protection? Few bounty hunters would dare touch you if you are in my employ.”
“You are most gracious, but I must decline. For now.”
Carpeci inclined his head. “Then you have my leave. I must attend to the discipline of one of my unruly subjects.” He raised his voice. “It is most unwise to steal profits from my kingdom, as this wretch is desperate to learn. Good day to you, Jaxton Fliste.”
“And to you,” Jax gave a short bow and spun on his heel.
He retrieved his saber and dagger on his way out, not stopping to buckle them until he reached the road by the docks. Daren pushed off the wall he’d been leaning on. The Kalicodian warrior stood at least seven feet tall with arms thicker than most thighs. The hilt of a great sword jutted over his shoulder. He adjusted the harness holding it in place as he walked toward Jax.
“Well?” he asked.
Jax pulled the map from his tunic and scanned the page. “I have the evidence we need to take him down.”
“Finally. Where is it?”
“Southeast.”
~
“Untie me,” she ordered. “And get this hood off.”
“Yes, Carpeci.”
The hood was torn away at the same time the bonds were cut free of her hands. She moved to the window and watched Jaxton Fliste saunter toward the alley where Daren waited for him.
“He did not attempt to free you
as you predicted,” Argonus said, scratching at the scar beneath his beard.
“I am aware,” she said.
“He barely glanced at you. How could your sight have been so wrong?”
“Do not forget that you merely play at being me.”
“Forgive me Tessaryn.” He bowed his head
She could see doubt in his expression. If her followers lost faith in her ability to predict events, they would turn against her. Best to placate him.
“One does not merely look into the future,” she told him. “When focusing on even a single person, we must sift through one of many probable paths. Some are more plausible than others, but in the end, we make an educated guess as to what might happen. As you are aware, I am right far often than I am wrong. And everything else with Jax was correct, up to the diamond.”
“Yes,” Argonus said. “Of course, my liege.”
“Besides,” she continued, “his desire to feel heroic was but one way—the easiest way—to use him. He doesn’t know it, but he has already begun the path of my choosing.”
“Should we follow him?”
“No need. I have marked him.”
~
Her longbow leaned against the windowsill on the other side of the bed. She grabbed the weapon and gave the wood a familiar stroke. The design was Kalicodian, but the redwood came from the islands to the west. The bow itself had been shaped by a master craftsmen in Norscelt. Her best hit with it was over four hundred paces.
She moved to the trunk at the foot of the bed and opened the lid. She had arranged the rest of her arsenal neatly in the order she would need to don her weapons. Even when not on a job, a good huntress prepared for a hasty departure.
After fastening the multitude of throwing knives about her person, she pulled the sword belt from the bottom of the chest and wrapped it around her waist. The weight of the two curved blades settled against her legs, providing a familiar comfort. These raqii dath had been a gift from Briani, her former master. Touched by the Elements, these weapons carried the power to manipulate any tamings thrown at her.
The elementalist who had been commissioned to train her in their proper use had cost a king’s bounty. At one time, she had thought it foolish to pay for the training, even if it had been Briani’s coin. However, since the start of Bain’s war and her recent endeavors with Jax in Kalicodon, the training had paid for itself ten times over.
