The Akorell Break (The Mortal Mage Book 2)

by B. T. Narro

  “We’re fine,” Beatrix said, finally standing after Kirnich offered his hand to help her.

  Desil wasn’t aware of the extent of Kirnich’s injured shoulder. He saw no blood, just a small tear in his shirt. If the warrior was in pain, it was impossible to see it or any other emotion past his anger.

  “The Krepps are going to provoke us,” Basen warned, “but don’t engage in combat, and let me speak for us.”

  “Do you know any Kreppen?” Desil asked.

  “Do you?”

  “Some.”

  “I correct myself. Desil will speak for us.” Basen looked at him pointedly. “The purpose of every word you use will be to avoid combat and get us to Nebre or Zoke as soon as possible.”

  “I can do that.”

  “All of you be aware that dropping your weapon and refusing to fight is our best defense. The Krepps value honor above all.”

  Without further warning, Basen drew the energy out of the last glowing akorell metal at his feet. He snapped his wrist. A portal grew out of nothing.

  “Hide the rest of the akorell metal nearby,” he told them. “We won’t need any of it if we are successful, but we might as well hold onto it just in case.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Regash Forest was half the distance from their current location to Tenred’s bordering wall. Taking a portal would save them a day, so long as they made it out of the Kreppen territory unharmed. Desil had the honor of going through the portal first. It would still dizzy him, Basen explained, but it was important that he find his bearings quickly this time. He advised Desil to hold his breath and shut his eyes as soon as he jumped in, which Desil did.

  He felt as though he’d been picked up by a dajrik and rolled across the ground. It was easier with his eyes closed to tell when he’d stopped moving, as he focused purely on the feeling of the ground against his body, but something still tilted behind his vision. Leida tumbled into him as he started to get up, knocking him down once more. He tried to pull her out of the way as Adriya came through, but the battle mage rolled into Leida’s heel and took her and Desil down.

  Desil almost yelped as he saw Kirnich rolling toward them. The best he could do was intercept the confused warrior and guide him away as Beatrix and Basen tumbled out of the portal last.

  “Quiet,” Desil said to hush their groaning. “Hurry to your feet and follow me.”

  The portal had left them on a dirt field with patches of dying grass, some stained brown by what might’ve been dried blood. A fence of standing logs slightly buried and roped together sectioned off the field, leaving but one exit to what Desil assumed to be an arena. He couldn’t think of a worse place to be seen, but luck was on their side. Not a Krepp was in sight.

  They followed Desil out and toward a small forest within the encampment. He had a breath of relief as they hid themselves in the midst of short trees with bushy leaves hanging down like hair in need of a cut.

  “Where do we go from here, Basen?” Desil asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know? Which way to the house of Nebre or Zoke?”

  “That is what I mean. I don’t know which way because I don’t know where we are. I figured Krepps would catch us and eventually get us in front of one I know.”

  Desil’s stomach tensed in the ensuing silence.

  “So now what, Father?” Leida asked.

  “We really shouldn’t be seen hiding,” Adriya advised. “They’ll think we snuck in here.”

  All seemed to be waiting for Basen as they watched him.

  “We could show ourselves and deal with the repercussions,” he said. “But there must be something better we can do to take advantage of getting here unnoticed. Give me a moment to think.”

  Desil moved toward the outer trees. “I’ll take a quick look to find out what we can see from here.”

  There were two huts made of sticks and leaves built along the side of a hill, each too small to fit more than a single Krepp. He couldn’t figure out what they were for besides acting as a marker of some kind. Smoke ribboned between the huts as one Krepp spoke over another in what sounded to be bartering. Desil looked past them to a lake where a small tribe of Krepps worked by the water. Several fires burned. The clank of steel rang out rhythmically, sounding like a blacksmith at work somewhere. Beyond the lake, the grassy terrain advanced into the mountains where Krepps walked about, possibly foraging.

  Desil’s party would have to go in the opposite direction unless they planned to swim or find a way around the lake. He had an idea as he noticed a Krepp coming toward him.

  There wasn’t much time to act on Desil’s plan as he returned to his group. Before he proposed it, he had to know something. “The encampment leads to a lake behind me. Do you know where to go from here, Basen?”

  “I will remember once I see more of this place.”

  “There’s a Krepp headed toward us from the lake. I suggest we follow him quietly and act as if he’s our escort.”

  “We’ll be caught for sure,” Adriya said.

  “We’ll be seen by them no matter what,” Desil specified. “At least this will be the best way to be seen. He’s coming by the trees now, so we have to be ready.”

  “I don’t know of a better way,” Basen said. “Let’s go.”

  The headmaster’s hasty agreement was somewhat of a shock, but Desil didn’t let it show. Part of him had hoped Leida’s father had something safer in mind. They went to the end of the trees and hid there to wait. The Krepp stopped to ask another nearby what he was selling, if Desil’s Kreppen was correct, then spat and continued on his way.

  Basen was first out after the Krepp had passed, Desil and Leida just behind with Beatrix and Kirnich at the rear. The Krepp walked past the arena completely unaware of six humans behind him. He took the only path, across a flat field. No other Krepps were near.

  He grumbled to himself as he glanced to his side at a large structure. It hardly seemed capable of standing against a storm. A small fire would take only moments to burn through what appeared to be reeds and sticks that made up the walls and roof. It couldn’t have been the home of just one Krepp, as many flowed in and out of its large doorway. The creatures seemed to be coming in with nothing, while others carried out weapons, pots, jugs, and husks of corn or other food.

  Desil’s unaware escort spat in the direction of the place. Krepps coming out stared back at him, some pointing at the humans.

  He put his knuckles against his chest and wondered aloud, “Dra ren fey ri?” Why they look at me?

  More of the Krepps stopped outside the structure to stare. The escort puffed out his chest.

  “Ren gwa ezcar, Azkire. Ren gwa.” They know you’re strong, Azkire. They know.

  Krepps were not known for their intelligence, but Desil seemed to have chosen one particularly dim.

  The escort walked with newfound pride in his gait. He headed past a thicket of small trees all naked of branches and leaves. A few structures stood on the outskirts that Desil didn’t recognize. They resembled large tables made of long sticks, too tall for Krepps to reach. The lizard-like creatures worked beneath them, near campfires, on actual tables. They used tools, some familiar to Desil and some not. Not one of them continued hammering or chiseling as they noticed the humans.

  The escort continued to assume he had earned this attention, sauntering past them with a swagger.

  “Ri wacka ezcar yoni,” the Krepp told himself. Desil didn’t know “wacka,” but the other words were “I…strong today.”

  The unaware Krepp led them into an area that resembled a town, where buildings had real walls. Again, however, this didn’t seem to be a place where any of them dwelled. There were no doors on the buildings, Krepps freely walking in and out of each one yet all stopping when they saw the humans.

  The escort veered off the path to head toward a couple of Kreppen females gawking with the others.

  Desil had an idea about what to do from here, bu
t he couldn’t tell his group without risking their escort hearing. Basen pulled on Desil’s cloak as if to tell him something. Desil turned and lowered his head to show him a knowing look as Desil pointed his thumb at himself. Basen put up his hands and mouthed, “All right.”

  Their escort stopped in front of the female Krepps. He looked away from them as if disinterested, flexing his arms repeatedly.

  “Ri Azkire. Nia seshar?” I’m Azkire. Have a seshar?

  A seshar was similar to a wife or a husband, but without the same rules of commitment, to Desil’s understanding. It was distasteful and forward to ask another Krepp about a seshar, especially during an introduction.

  “Eh?” answered one of the Kreppen females. Who?

  The escort looked pointedly at each of them. “Eh yush.” Who’s interested. Desil figured this form of “who” was actually more like “whoever,” for the Krepp hadn’t phrased it as a question.

  The females looked to each other. They might’ve been sisters, given their nearly identical long mouths, low across their protruding lizard faces. Both broke into a cackle, their sharp teeth reminding Desil just how dangerous all these creatures were, not just the males who were a head taller than him.

  “Hissa felk pra seshar.” Ask a human to be your seshar, Desil figured one of the females said, though her words directly translated to ask human for seshar.

  She and the other one were too busy laughing to notice the Krepp’s rage as he spat onto the ground just before their clawed bare feet.

  He started to say something, but one of the females interrupted. “Sheck ru akwan felks?” Desil figured akwan was “to bring,” or possibly “escort.” Where you bring humans?

  The Krepp didn’t speak as he tilted his head, no doubt confused. She leaned to look past him, her golden eyes meeting Desil’s gaze. There was nothing in Kreppen culture about showing respect by bowing or looking away. In fact, courage was more respected than reverence, so Desil stared back as he waited for the inevitable.

  Their escort turned around and screeched. He fell backward against the two Kreppen females. One pushed him away with a sneer while the other stepped aside as if to let him fall. The result made the Krepp spin to the ground and roll over in the dirt.

  “Dra ru tushy felk?” one female asked. Why are you afraid of human?

  The Krepp jumped to his feet. “Aken tushy!” Not afraid!

  “Desil?” Basen asked. He and the others stepped forward to flank Desil.

  “I know what I’m doing.”

  The escort’s shock was gone, his face twisted in obvious fury.

  “Dra ru izcat?” the Krepp threatened. “Piah deeana?” Why are you here? Do you wish to die?

  The creature’s bellowing had attracted the attention of other Krepps, who were beginning to circle Desil’s party. A few asked each other questions, but Desil was too busy trying to figure out how to answer the first Krepp with his limited command of the language.

  “Krepp…um…akwan…wa Zoke lor Nebre,” Desil said as he watched the irritation grow on every Kreppen face in sight. “Uh, ri shten…ri. Aken…kweenin Krepp. Ri fey. Ri kweenin ru.”

  Desil was trying to explain: “A Krepp was bringing us to Zoke or Nebre after we proved ourselves, but we lost him. We thought you were him.” Unfortunately, though, with Desil’s incomplete vocabulary, he was forced to say, “Krepp bring to Zoke or Nebre. I prove I. No find Krepp. I look. I find you.”

  Chatter flared as soon as Desil finished his statement. Half of the Krepps laughed, though Desil didn’t know if they found his worse-than-a-child’s speech pattern amusing or if it came at the expense of Desil’s unaware escort. Unfortunately, it appeared to be the latter, for the escort ground his teeth.

  A duel was inevitable unless Desil stopped it.

  “Aken jek!” Desil announced before the escort could challenge him. No fight! “Keo lyloll Zoke lor Nebre.” Need to speak to Zoke or Nebre.

  The Krepps ignored him to jabber among themselves. Desil tried to listen for words of danger, like “attack,” “die,” or “blood,” but he didn’t catch any of those. Sheck, he heard many times. Where. By following it with Zoke or Nebre’s name, they seemed to be asking who knew where either Krepp happened to be.

  Desil’s party clustered around him defensively. There were enough Krepps to claw them to pieces before they could get back to the arena for a portal. However, none spat or hissed. It was as good a sign as Desil could hope for, given the circumstances.

  The Krepps’ deep chatter went on for a while before the lot of them started shoving the supposed escort into Desil. Laughter started up from all but the enraged Krepp as he pushed Desil away from him, and then wiped off dust, and possibly the “human filth,” from his bare chest. The Krepp turned on his heels and stormed through the crowd before they could part to make an opening, shoving a few out of the way who were too busy laughing to care.

  “Kwara ro,” many seemed to be telling Desil. “Kwara. Kwara.”

  Ro was he or him, but Desil had never heard kwara.

  The crowd’s intentions became clear as many gestured for Desil and the others to follow the departing Krepp down the dirt trail. Some even shoved individuals in Desil’s party, one pushing Leida hard enough to send her to her knees. Basen pulled her up before Desil had time to turn fully turn around. The large male who’d shoved her leaned back and grabbed his stiff belly as he roared with laughter, but a female smacked him in the chest with the back of her hand as she scolded him.

  It was a relief when all the Krepps but the same escort as before stayed behind, jabbering on about the felks and laughing amongst each other.

  Leida brushed the dirt off her knees, then pointed at the escort. “Is he taking us by choice?”

  “Probably not, but he should still bring us to Zoke or Nebre,” Desil said.

  Basen came up on Desil’s side. “I’ve spent more time around Krepps than I’ve wanted to, but I’ve never seen them laugh like that. What did you tell them?”

  “I tried to say we proved ourselves through combat, and an escort took us into the encampment. We lost him and mistook that Krepp for him.” Desil lifted his finger to point but quickly put it down as their escort looked back with a scowl.

  “So they were laughing at him, not us?” Leida asked.

  “I believe so. They probably also found my broken Kreppen to be hilarious.”

  “How do you know Kreppen at all?” she wondered.

  “My father taught me.” Desil forced himself to keep talking before the black clouds of grief could darken his mind. “He took lessons at the Academy. It’s my understanding that every student must learn something besides the skill that got them into the Academy in the first place.”

  “Yes, that’s correct. It’s especially important for warriors,” Basen said, “because there isn’t work for every swordsman after they finish their three years. However, the chemists aren’t required to focus their time on anything besides potion-making or healing because there’s always work for them. Many do anyway for the joy of learning.”

  “A concept lost on warriors,” Beatrix commented.

  “It’s not lost,” Kirnich argued. “We simply enjoy learning how to fight and—”

  “Not much else,” she interrupted.

  Desil was surprised when he turned to see the psychic grinning. It hadn’t been clear to him until then that she was making jests. He wondered if some of her other jabs at Kirnich had been done in good spirit.

  The warrior shrugged. “Remind me how you spent your time at the Academy when you weren’t training in psyche.”

  Beatrix didn’t answer.

  “Most psychics make use of their talents working with animal keepers to train horses, dogs, or birds,” Kirnich announced. “And what else do psychics usually do, headmaster?”

  “Just about anything they want,” Basen answered. “Psychics usually have many talents.”

  “So tell us what you did, Beatrix,” Kirnich requested with a lilt.


  She spoke off to the side. “I painted.”

  Kirnich laughed. “And you tease the warriors for focusing on sword fighting?”

  Beatrix chuckled a bit as Leida came to her defense.

  “Painting isn’t useless.”

  “It was for her.” Kirnich stifled his laughter. “I remember a time when I was still working my way up toward officer. I’d had a few meetings with Fernan and had learned that he didn’t usually love to speak about his children, but he did about Beatrix. At first, I asked about how she was doing at the Academy as a way to gain his favor. I learned that she painted during her required alternative hours for the week. I asked to see one of her paintings, and Fernan realized that he hadn’t seen any himself. How many letters did he write you, Beatrix, before you brought one to him?”

  “Must’ve been at least five.”

  “I’m glad I was with him when you eventually arrived with one. It was the first time we met in person.” He paused, the amusement gone from his voice.

  “What happened?” Adriya asked.

  “All I could tell was that it was a landscape,” Kirnich said, monotone. “It looked like someone blind had done it.”

  Beatrix laughed without humor.

  “Do you remember your father’s reaction?” Kirnich nearly whispered.

  “I’ll never forget it. He was so proud one of his children was an artist that he wanted to hang it in the throne room. I refused to let him because I knew how horrible it was. I thought he knew as well, but psyche confirmed that he somehow loved it.”

  “It was then I figured out why you took up painting at the Academy. You knew how much he loved art.”

  She nodded. “I only wish I could’ve given him something better.”

  “What happened to the painting?” Desil asked.

  “It’s somewhere in the castle,” Beatrix muttered. “Along with the rest of my belongings.”

  Basen stopped everyone. He put his hand on Beatrix’s shoulder. “I’m going to help you no matter what you need. We’re going to figure out what to do, all of us, all right?”