by TR Cameron
He nodded his massive head. “That’s a fair comment. But the majority who choose them are weak.”
The Light Elf Malonne steepled his long fingers to display his perfect manicure and replied, “Agreed. And unfortunate for those who find themselves trapped by them.”
The Dark Elf tapped his long fingers on the table. Invel was one of the dwarf’s favorite members of the council and often thought in the same direction he did. It was so on this occasion as well. “But they’re here, and that is unlikely to change. The question is, what will we do about it?”
Zeb followed him quickly. “My first inclination is to find another concoction that will help those who are addicted to break the hold it has on them. And also, something we can use to save those who overdose.” There were precedents in the human world for both things.
The wizard inclined his head. “Can we all agree that these avenues should be pursued regardless of any other decisions we might make here tonight?” Every person at the table signaled assent, and the mage stroked his beard as he regarded their host. “Are you willing to lead that effort?”
He nodded and Invel added, “I’ll help.”
Unexpectedly, Delia said the same, and Zeb offered them his thanks. Vizidus took over the conversation again. “So, with that settled, what then of the drugs? Zarcanum is the one made specifically to entice magicals and Shine is the one for the humans. Zeb was able to get a sample of the human one and Invel acquired some of the other. I believe they have been analyzed?”
Scoppic, the gnome who oversaw the arcane library in the city, nodded. Tonight, he wore his work clothes, a light suit with a vest over a cream shirt and tie, as well as a pair of round glasses he’d never worn at a meeting before. “A friend in the police lab did the human one for us and we took the other to Oriceran for an examination. Both are highly addictive and each contains magical substances we don’t yet understand.”
Malonne sat upright in his chair and appeared shocked. “Wait, both?”
The gnome nodded gravely. “Yes. It is believed that whoever takes the drugs imbibes magic that stays in their system.”
Invel frowned. “That sounds like a very bad thing.” There were murmurs of assent around the table. “What can we do about that?” he asked. “Really nothing, right?”
Zeb shrugged. “If we could find an antidote of some kind—a way to get rid of it—we could put it in the water or something.”
Brukirot laughed, deep and loud. “Perhaps in your ales and offer everyone in town a free glass.”
Louder murmurs of assent followed that, and the dwarf shook his head with a smile. “If that’s what it takes, you know I’m in.”
Vizidus tapped the side of his glass with a fingernail to draw attention to himself once more. “So, then, we are at an impasse. Until we learn more, we cannot work to counteract the drug itself. Scoppic, will you see to continuing the research?” The gnome nodded solemnly, clearly committed to the burden he accepted. “Very well. The question must now be asked—should we act against the Atlantean gang that distributes these drugs?”
The only person to offer anything more than a shrug was the Kilomea. “Yes,” he replied. “The easiest way to deal with this threat is to eliminate it at the root. Once that is gone, the issue will wither and die.” No swell of agreement rose in response to his statement, and the wizard sighed.
“So again, we collectively choose not to act. My friends, while I do not gainsay your beliefs or your motives, I fear that when we finally decide it is the right time, the real right time will have long passed.” Silence greeted his words and lasted for half a minute before he spoke again. “All right, then. Let’s plan to meet weekly until this situation has been resolved.”
The meeting dissolved into side conversations and goodbyes until the only two left in the room, as usual, were Zeb and Invel. The Dark Elf refilled his glass and limped to the table. He shook his head as he lowered himself gingerly into the seat. “That wasn’t all one might have hoped for.”
His companion laughed. “No, but it’s understandable. They don’t see what Cali sees.”
“Is what Scoppic told me true? She’s one of the Nine?”
“Matriarch of House Leblanc.”
“Wow. And you still make her wait tables?”
The dwarf snorted and choked on his drink, then collected himself. “First, that’s her choice. Second, she has her head in the right place. And third, hospitality is a noble undertaking.”
The Drow grinned. “So you say, my friend. So you say.” He sobered, and his expression became grim. “I think things will become much worse here before they get better. And I fear that young Caliste will find the same in New Atlantis.”
“I agree. But all we can do is support her—and the city—to the best of our abilities.”
“Are we doing that?”
Zeb sighed. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I think so.”
The voice inside him was adamant. Your best is far more than what you’re giving, and you know it.
That life is behind me. I’ll find new ways to be useful. The mocking internal laughter that followed the thought was disconcerting, to say the least.
Chapter Four
Cali had never been to Pittsburgh, so she arrived a little early for her appointment and used the time to wander downtown. There were far fewer people on the streets than in the French Quarter but probably the same number of sports jerseys. She stood for a while at a distance from the fountain where the rivers met and watched the water reach its apex and fall away for several minutes before she forced her attention away. Thankfully, she’d thrown the black leather coat Nylotte had given her over her jeans and The Pretty Reckless t-shirt she wore because the sun did a terrible job of banishing the cold. Her backpack straps rested comfortably over both shoulders.
Now, where the hell is this parking lot? She followed the GPS on her phone and eventually found it directly beside and only slightly above the water level of one of the rivers. In a wall farthest from the boats and the entertainment complex across the way was a gate with arcane symbols around it. She touched the ones she’d been told to and they glowed briefly. As they faded, the barrier did too and permitted her to enter.
She walked down a long paved tunnel that became an equally long rock tunnel. It ended at a great wooden door. When she knocked, a section slid aside to reveal a large eye. “Cali Leblanc, here at Nylotte’s invitation.”
The peephole slammed closed and the portal creaked open. Beyond it stood a mammoth Kilomea, his scowling face probably sufficient to scare off anyone who wasn’t supposed to be there. She wasn’t impressed and stared at him in silence.
After half a minute, he spoke in a guttural voice. “You can go in.”
Cali nodded her thanks and walked through. Every Kilomea she’d met opened the encounter with the same kind of attitude and lost respect for those who didn’t match it. After another substantial trek, the large cavern of the Stonesreach Kemana came fully into view. It was a stunning sight, far larger than she could have imagined an underground city might be. Underwater, underground…you’re really getting around, Cali. A purple glow emanated from crystals on the roof to illuminate the area below.
A long flight of steps descended to the main part of the city, which appeared to be lined with shops and businesses. At the far end stood a gleaming white palace, and roads ran from it like spikes toward her side of the enormous space. Ridges filled with houses climbed the sides of the bowl. She walked down the stairs as quickly as she could without falling and her legs complained by the time she was halfway down and actively protested at the bottom.
All the magical species she was accustomed to were present, the rule rather than the exception. Her human looks put her in the minority. Clothing styles and personal grooming varied widely, and she thought a few hours simply watching the unique individuals walking past would be a great way to spend an afternoon.
I don’t have time for that now, though. She strode forward down the
main thoroughfare, then cut along a small path beside a weapons store. A few minutes later, she emerged on a street that looked and felt darker. The light didn’t seem to reach it effectively and the shops somehow appeared more dangerous. She wasn’t sure if her magic made her feel that way or merely a natural suspicion, but her speed increased as she walked toward Nylotte’s shop.
The door was unlocked when she reached it, and she crossed the threshold with a grateful sigh. The Dark Elf was seated behind a counter to her left and greeted her with a crooked smile. Her long white hair was unbound and fell in a sheet over the shoulders of her dark tunic. “If you weren’t such a noble and experienced person, Matriarch of House Leblanc, I’d think it was your first visit to a Kemana.”
Cali thought about flipping her off, considered it a second time, then settled for sticking her tongue out at the Drow. “You know it is.”
Nylotte chuckled. “Indeed so. Welcome to Stonesreach, Caliste.”
She nodded and studied the rest of the room. Behind the elf stood shelves stacked with pots, flasks, and bottles that doubtless contained things arcane. A rack that displayed unfamiliar weapons filled the corner, and a bookshelf covered most of the wall across from the door. It held the expected tomes but also an abundance of small objects that called to her to touch them. She put her hands in her back pockets and leaned over to peer down the staircase that made up the rest of that side of the room.
When she straightened, it was to find her hostess staring at her with a raised eyebrow. “Are you done?”
Cali laughed. “More or less. I’d love to know what some of those things on the shelves are.”
“Oh, I can tell you what they are easily. Too expensive for you.” The sense that the other woman wasn’t talking only about money came across clearly.
“I’m already in debt to you. You’re right, I can’t afford more after this trip.”
The Drow waved a lazy hand. “Today only costs you a favor in the future.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
Nylotte nodded. “Smart girl. So, are you ready to meet him?”
“It was a long journey if I wasn’t. Let’s do it.”
The Dark Elf rose from behind the counter and walked around its edge to give her a small push toward the door. “My contact doesn’t do house calls. We’ll need to go to his shop.”
She followed her out to the street, and the Drow paused to wave at her store. The sensation of wards clicking into place was palpable in the ripple of energy that flowed from her. The woman set off at a notably fast pace, and she hurried to keep up. “What do I owe him?”
“Nothing. I’ve taken care of that part, which is why you owe me. If it was only an introduction, I would have done it for free.” She chuckled. “Well, for less than an open-ended favor, anyway. Those can get you into trouble.”
“You’re talking about Tanyith, aren’t you?”
“Correct on the first guess. Very good.” Her demeanor was always snarky and slightly aloof but somehow, the undercurrent of humor also came across quite clearly when she wanted it to. Now was one of those times.
They turned at a cross street near the palace, and she looked at the grand structure. “Who lives there? An Empress?”
“The lady.” Her emphasis signaled exasperation.
“I take it you’re not a fan?”
Nylotte shrugged and raised a hand toward the next street—the central one her visitor had initially traveled—and they turned. “She’s fine. A little conservative for my taste, but not hopeless.”
Cali pointed at a shop. “What do they sell?”
“Old books.”
She gestured at another. “And there?”
“Poisons.”
“Really?” She frowned.
The Dark Elf nodded. “I have no reason to lie to you and several reasons not to since my protege likes you.”
“Has Diana been here?” She realized it was a stupid question as the words left her mouth. “Don’t answer. Of course she has. You’re her teacher. And you don’t seem like the kind to make house calls on a regular basis either.”
Nylotte laughed. “Well, that’s mostly true, although I’ve found myself in your city far more often than I’d like and for much less profit than I’d like.” She stopped and pointed at the shops around as she explained what each was. “Restaurant, Oriceran food. Restaurant, human food. More books. The fletcher, who has bows and ammunition for them. Even more books. And our destination is there.”
Each of the stores had some kind of sign out in front of it, many of them in the same style as the one outside the Drunken Dragons Tavern, painted and hanging from a perpendicular bar. The placard her companion pointed at had a simple image of a golden sword with a red gem at the hilt and a matching stone at the end of the pommel. There was no name on it.
The elf pushed the heavy front door inward and they entered a larger building than Cali expected. She frowned and asked, “Did we portal somewhere else?”
The Drow laughed. “No, but Alessand is clever. He owns several storefronts but from the outside, you wouldn’t know it as they look different. They are false fronts carefully crafted to avoid direct notice. That way, he can have his shop here in the corner and his workshop in the other spaces.”
Cali peered around the shop portion of the building. Weapons racks covered all the available wall space aside from the front windows and the door at the front and back. Glorious swords of every kind she’d ever seen and many others besides hung in them, gleaming in the light thrown by a chandelier above and lamps set on low tables at the corners. A rectangular island stood in the middle, its surface bare, and looked as if it had been extracted whole from the trunk of a tree. All the furniture was polished wood, and she thought Zeb would be well satisfied with the care the owner took of it “That is clever.”
The back door opened and a low voice filled with humor emerged from the space beyond it. “I do my best.” She turned to watch the man—or elf, rather—enter. He wore a tunic that reached from a high collar to below his knees, with black pants visible below and at the slit side as he stepped inside the room. His long brown hair was pulled away from his face, and a heavy-looking ponytail was momentarily evident as he walked. He seemed stronger and bulkier than most of the elves she’d seen before but still had the elegantly pointed ears and the seemingly universal sculpted cheekbones that invoked jealousy every single time she encountered them.
He smiled and crossed to Nylotte to gather her into a hug. The sight was somehow shocking as she’d never pictured the Drow lowering her defenses enough to be touched, much less return the gesture. They both wore smiles when they drew apart.
Well, well, well. Love flourishes everywhere. At this rate, Zeb will be dating soon. She wished for a moment that she’d been able to bring Fyre so he could laugh at her mental jokes but the invitation hadn’t specifically included him, and she’d feared making a misstep. Next time.
The elf turned his grin to her. “So, you’re Caliste Leblanc. Welcome to my shop, Matriarch.”
“Cali, please. Just Cali.” She shook her head. “Your talent is amazing.”
“I have spent a very long time working to make it so.” His neutral, matter-of-fact tone suggested he was pleased with the compliment but not arrogant about his abilities. “Have you brought it?”
She nodded and slipped out of the backpack. It made a metallic clank as she set it on the wooden island, and she unzipped it carefully and withdrew the item within. The silver blade gleamed in the room’s light, the etchings barely deep enough to cast their own tiny shadows.
Alessand didn’t touch the shard and only circled it slowly to examine it from all angles. He crouched to look at the edge, then rose again and grinned at Nylotte. “Now I see why you wouldn’t give me a hint.”
She laughed almost flirtatiously. “Of course not. Surely a person of your immense talent would want the full challenge. Although letting you know of Caliste’s ancestry was a small step along the path
.”
He nodded. “The family sword of House Leblanc, I presume. One of the nine magical blades bestowed upon the nobility to celebrate the creation of Atlantis.”
“New Atlantis?” Cali asked.
“No. The original.” He reached out and stroked the weapon gently with a fingertip. “There are rumors of every kind about what they are capable of. What happened to this one?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. When my parents had it, the sword was whole. When it came to me, it…wasn’t.”
The elf shook his head and looked thoughtful. “I’ll be right back.” He strode out through the door he’d used to enter.
She turned to Nylotte. “So, you didn’t mention that he was cute.”
The Drow offered her a pleased smile. “He is finely made, that one. Much like his weapons.”
Cali walked closer to the side wall to examine the blades mounted there. The tallest would clearly require a large person using both hands to wield it. She couldn’t even imagine carrying it, much less handling it effectively.
Alessand peered at a book when he entered again and turned the pages rapidly, obviously looking for something. He muttered, “Got you,” and placed it on the island before he rotated the tome so they could both see it. Spread across both open pages were a series of mostly identical swords. They had long hilts and shining silver-white blades in common, with matching engraved runes. Each pommel was adorned with a different colored gem. He proclaimed, “The Nine Noble Swords of the Nine Noble Houses of Atlantis, where apparently, being noble really matters.”
The girl laughed. “Right? They’re crazy about it. The whole structure of New Atlantis reinforces how special the Nine are, second only to the monarch.”
“It must have taken something significant to shatter your sword. They are truly magical blades—artifacts, really—and frightfully difficult to break with anything other than another magical artifact.” He handed the book to Nylotte, who accepted it without protest and gestured for Cali to remove her backpack. She complied as he pulled a large sheet of paper over the island, apparently from a roll hidden in the base. He lifted the metal fragment gingerly, then set it on top of the white material.
