by Gideon Mills
“State your business, bran.” Wyatt gulped; the elf had gotten the jump on him. She was clearly from the forest, using a term they used for humans, and if Wyatt was up on his elven, a not-pleasant word for him.
“Just a fellow private investigator,” Wyatt said. “Looking for some assistance.”
The room was dark with just enough light for Wyatt to make out the desk and plant. It was no wonder he’d missed her, but her scent filled his senses. A familiar one that Wyatt just couldn’t place. Her rock-hard body pressed against his own, and he wished he could see her. She felt fit and sexy as hell behind him. Being an elf, she was strong and able to hold him easily.
If Wyatt really wanted out of this, he could reach into his mana and cast a spell to break free from her, but he didn’t want to start off on the wrong terms with her. Not that this was off to good one. Wyatt really hadn’t thought this one through all the way. This PI was clearly good and he should have better prepared for this. The mage knew he was better than this, and had to start acting like it.
“I work alone, bran, leave.”
Not that he knew what the job paid, but he didn’t really care. This case piqued his interest, and he really wanted to solve it. “It pays well,” he said. “I’ll make sure you get more than you have ever had.”
“If you think I do what I do for money, you have no clue what a real PI does.”
Wyatt grimaced. “Look, I just need help stopping whatever is going on, and my latest client handed me a job that just might help me figure out why all the goblins fled, why the elves are scared, and why the nobles are ramping up for war.”
The knife left Wyatt’s neck, and he was pushed away from the elf. It took all his will not to rub his neck. He wanted to show strength and confidence right now. It was hard to see the elf until she lit up a lamp in the office and opened a window to allow the moonlight to shine in.
Wyatt couldn’t believe his eyes. It was the silver-haired elf with the rocking body that he had been daydreaming about since he saw her on the street in front of the count’s house. “You,” he said. In utter disbelief with himself, and in shock. She had been on his mind since he saw her. Now seeing her fully, he knew why he couldn’t stop thinking about her. The elf was one of a kind.
She laughed. “You snooze, you lose.”
Wyatt gritted his teeth. “It doesn’t matter.”
He hadn’t gotten this good of a look at her on the street. She had the brightest magenta eyes that he had ever seen, and in the moonlight, he saw the faintest of tattoos on her face. It was strange that he hadn’t noticed it before.
She saw him staring at it and smiled. “Only can be seen in the moonlight. Ancient elven tattoo.”
It was a delicate flower and vine that ran along her left cheek and chin. It made her look even hotter and more dazzling. Wyatt had seen many women in his life, human, elf, and goblin, but she was special and hotter than most of them.
“Interesting.” It was all he could manage at this point. Wyatt wasn’t used to having two females in one day cause him to get lost in their beauty. He shook his head. “Look, I don’t know you, and you don’t know me.”
She laughed. “I know you well, mage.”
Wyatt didn’t like that at all. It wasn’t like he kept the fact he was a mage secret, but that didn’t mean he told all his clients. “I see. Then I’m at a disadvantage.”
The delicate elf sauntered over to him, with her hips swaying and her long silver hair flowing. “I’m Cat,” she said. “I moved to Imlay a month ago, that is all you need to know.”
Wyatt nodded. “Very well. It is a pleasure to meet you. I’m Wyatt Ryder, mage and PI.”
“You are looking into the happenings in the city?”
“Ever since you bested me,” Wyatt said.
Cat smirked. “I see. They are why I arrived in the city from Flemval Grove.”
Hearing she lived in the ancient home to the elves was a relief, but expected at this point. “They knew something was going on.”
“We know a lot, but we aren’t sure why the world is changing, although it is.”
Wyatt told her all that he’d learned and why he was looking into it. Not leaving a thing out of it. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly trusted her entirely, but he did. There was something about her and not just her beauty, or that she was an elf from out of the city. He just trusted her and felt like he’d known her his whole life.
She, however, eyed him with distrust in her eyes. It was strange to be looked at like that. It was rare for Wyatt to have someone look at him like that when they knew he was a mage. They usually revered him once they learned he could do magic. She wasn’t that way. Wyatt thought the elves were the same with magic, holding those few that could use it to a higher level.
“I see,” Cat said once he told her all he knew.
“Will you help me?”
She rubbed her chin and looked past him. A long minute dragged on before she spoke. “I will, as we both seek the same thing.”
5
An Ambush
Wyatt left Cat and went back to his own place. It was hard to sleep for the rest of the night. His mind was off in its own world, thinking of Cat and his latest client. That was a dangerous thing, but eventually he was able to drift off into sleep.
Now he was up and refreshed. He had to formulate more of a plan. Just having Cat help him wasn’t going to be enough to infiltrate the castle that was home to the king and the royal family. He would need a team, and one that was the best of the best. Wyatt wasn’t used to groups, but he did have his contacts. Maybe he could reach out and use the people he did know to create his dream team.
That was a long shot, but still he had to do something. Being here in Imlay for as long as Wyatt had been, he knew a lot of people. Both in good and bad ways.
Leaving his place with no destination in mind, Wyatt was greeted by a surprise. Standing out in front of his home was a group of ruffians. That in itself wouldn’t be that abnormal, but they were outfitted in some of the best armor in the city. Stuff that people could only find in the noble or royal parts of the city. Yet, with the look of men that wanted to fight all the same, no matter how fine the armor was on them. Wyatt knew the type well, and usually did his best to avoid them. That wasn’t going to happen with this group. Many of them had scars on their faces, and there was little doubt they had scars elsewhere, too. They stood ready to fight; to many it would have been very menacing.
“What can I do for you fine gentlemen?” Wyatt asked.
The largest of them grunted. He was close to seven feet tall and gave Wyatt the faint impression that he was part giant troll and part human. Just the thought of the human that dared to sleep with a giant troll curdled Wyatt’s stomach. Before he could force himself not to picture the encounter, it flashed in his mind. That was an image Wyatt was never going to be able to forget. Disgusting.
“You have come to the attention of the great King Martin,” one said. “Stop what you are doing, or die.”
This man wasn’t brilliant and just gave Wyatt even more motivation to continue down the road he was on. While there might be ten of these guys in armor, they were no match for him. Not a single goblin or dwarf in the group. Though those would be hard for the king to hire. That meant none of them would be resistant to his magic.
Wyatt reached into his mana and pulled in the flow of magic. It filled him with strength. It was intoxicating and made him want more and more. He knew if he pulled in too much, he would either burn out or die. It was a struggle not to bring in more. Magic made him feel more alive than anything else in the world. The power that surged through him was massive and made all his senses more acute. His focus was increased, and time slowed around him.
The mage focused on the group and was able to create barriers around them all. He had never tried to hold that many before, and it was nearly all he could do. One more person and he would have lost his connection to his mana. “You will leave,” he said, his voice booming. Sounding
firmer that he felt with the strain he was putting on himself. “If you come here again, I will kill you.”
Wyatt made them all feel the pressure of the hold he had on them. Squeezing them tighter and tighter. Just shy of crushing them. Pushing his limits, and making his own body shake. If they saw that, none of them reacted to it. That was the only blessing.
All of them had horror on their faces. “He’s a mage,” one said. “Fuck this shit. I wasn’t paid enough.”
Many of them nodded in agreement. Wyatt released the spell and watched as each and every one of them ran away in terror. It was a good thing that worked. The mage couldn’t have held that much longer, and he was weakened from the exertion of pulling it in. One more person, one second longer, and he might have lost his connection to his mana. That was a stupid move and scared him.
Right now wasn’t the time to take a risk like that. It would have been better to just increase his speed and strength. Those spells were easier and required a lot less of his mana. It would also have made the encounter last a lot longer and maybe left him bleeding.
Wyatt needed to think things through and learn from his mistakes, but now wasn’t the time to worry about that. He ventured back into his office and made it to his poorly-made couch. It was now that he wished he had splurged on one of the master craftsmen in the city. Blobbing down on the uncomfortable lump, Wyatt closed his eyes and groaned as the hard bench dug into him.
Hours later, Wyatt opened his eyes to find Cat standing in front of him. She was dressed in a deep-cut shirt that left little to the imagination. It was so low that her belly button was showing, and much of her abs. They were toned and an even darker bronze than her face, some of the best Wyatt had ever seen.
“About time you woke up,” Cat said. “You put on a real show this morning.”
Wyatt sat up gingerly. His head throbbed from the exertion earlier, and he was hungry. “I was ambushed.”
“That doesn’t mean going around using magic at insane levels. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Brotherhood of Mages shows up and reprimands you.”
They wouldn’t do that, but they might appear again to beg him or force him to join their little group and send him off to Western Oakville, and the tower of Mages. To train in their stupid small school and then he could return in five years (if he was lucky). That thought made his skin crawl. He wouldn’t be forced to leave his home or his business.
“I’ll worry about them later,” Wyatt said. “The king sent those men.”
Cat pursed her lips and sat down next to Wyatt on the couch, making a face. “Damn, you need better stuff.”
Wyatt let the comment go. “The king is onto me, that’s not good.”
“It isn’t,” Cat said. “I was worried whoever was behind this was onto me. I’ve been trying to figure it out, but nothing made any sense.”
“It doesn’t.” Wyatt hoped that it wasn’t Earl Richard that set him up. It would be a shame to lose the one mage that he sort of liked.
“Any idea who told the king?”
Wyatt took in a deep breath. “Only one, but I’m not sure if he did or not.”
He told Cat about Francis Richard, and the visit he had with the man. “I see. I’ve heard of this Earl. He doesn’t seem like the type to set you up, but he is the only other possibility outside of this mystery woman that hired you and me.”
“He is. I mean, I’ve talked to a lot of contacts, but I had no idea, then, that the king was behind all this.”
The more Wyatt thought about it, the more it could be any of them. One of his many informants might have known that King Martin was the man behind the missing goblins and elves and told him that some PI was looking into it. This was going to be a hard and painful path. Not only did Wyatt need to figure out why the King was doing this, but now he had to find out who sold him out. That was the first step in this now.
“We have to find out more,” Cat said.
“Agreed.”
6
Evening Out
The people that lived in cities didn’t know much about elves in the forest. One of the rumors that Wyatt had heard about the fair folk was that they were planners, and liked to know each and every step. Cat appeared to be living up to that little bit Wyatt knew.
She was pacing in Wyatt’s office. Going back and forth, trying to come up with a plan to find out if Francis or one of Wyatt’s contacts was to blame for Wyatt being attacked. She was just as concerned about that as she was about breaking into the royal grounds.
“We need some contacts,” she said. “Both in the grounds, and for the earl. Or any of the other people that you might have pissed off.”
Wyatt groaned. It all came back to him and pissing people off. He did have a special talent in that area. It was hard to admit, but over the years, for many of the successful jobs, he had a person on the other end that was angry. It was part of the world he lived in, and he knew that going in. If he was honest with himself, that was part of what made it so much fun to him. It was a high-risk game that meant he was playing with his own life often.
There was one man that might be able to help them on both fronts, but any time a person went to Gareth Stone, it came with a cost. One that Wyatt had never been willing to pay, and even now, he wasn’t sure he was ready to do it. So much so, he was hesitant to bring up the man to Cat.
Wyatt let her pace for hours and hours. It was nearing the evening, and his own stomach was rumbling. He had barely eaten, and that was a mistake. “I need to get some food,” he announced. “I’m going to Logan’s.”
Cat eyed him. From the look on her face, she knew the place or at least the reputation of the establishment, and didn’t like that he was going to it. If he was reading her facial expressions correctly.
“You can’t be serious.”
Wyatt nodded. “I’m hungry, and the tavern has some of the best stew in Imlay.”
“And some of the biggest rats. Both rodent and human.”
Wyatt laughed. “At least they don’t put either of them in the stew.”
“That you know of.”
It was true that he never looked all that closely at the meat in the stew, and he never would. It tasted too good to be ruined by the knowledge of what meat it contained. Wyatt stood and was at the door to his office. “You coming?”
Cat sighed. “Very well.”
Out in the cool evening hair of Imlay, the pair walked. Cat’s nipple poked out in her barely-there top. Wyatt didn’t pretend to not look, nor did he stare at her breasts. They were nice to check out, especially with her nipples rock hard.
“You like what you see?”
Wyatt nodded. “I do. As I’m sure does every other man that is breathing.”
Cat smirked and laughed. “Though most aren’t willing to admit it. Or even look.”
Wyatt shrugged. “Learned long ago, that it didn’t matter. I know what I like and won’t pretend. You’re hot, and I’d love to see more of you.”
“Bold, and I just might reward you for that.”
Tonight might not be productive for the mission, but Wyatt might still have a fun one. It had been a few months since his last round in the bedroom, and he was looking forward to a night with Cat.
Logan’s tavern wasn’t all that far from his own place. It was what many would call a hole in the wall, and catered to some of the rougher clientele in Imlay, which was saying something. Walking into the place, the pair ran into a wall of putrid smells, with one fine smell in the mix. The stew had such a pleasant taste and aroma that Wyatt tended to forget about all the other foul scents in the place. Not to mention all the rough edges the place had. None of the tables were level. The chairs were half falling apart. It wouldn’t have been a surprise to see rats living under the floor.
“Fuck,” Cat said. Wyatt could see her taking it all in. Her face said it all, and it wasn’t good. “This place is even worse than I expected.”
Every eye in the tavern had turned to see the newcomers, and at the sight of
Cat, the jaws of everyone dropped. Wyatt moved closer to her to make sure they didn’t bother her. Not that she needed his protection. There were no other elves in the place and no large trolls. One goblin was in the corner, talking to a troll, but otherwise it was humans, and they were drunk. A typical night for Logan’s tavern, and Wyatt felt right at home.
The mead and wine in the place were cheap and tasted like sand. Yet, many of the people in this part of Imlay spent hours drinking here. It was that cheap.
The owner of the place, a frail man, walked over to Wyatt. His weathered face looked even rougher than the last time that Wyatt was here. He might have even lost some weight, which he couldn’t afford. The city really was going downhill, and Wyatt didn’t like it one bit. “Good to see you, Ryder.”
“Logan. My usual.”
The man nodded and guided them to a table in the corner of the room. The tavern wasn’t huge, but it held more people that one would have expected. It even had a stage for performers to give a show, if any were traveling in this part of town.
“You chose a good night,” Logan said. “We have a minstrel in tonight.”
Cat’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”
The old man grinned from ear to ear. “I am not. First one in years, better than any bard, or comedian.”
There was little doubt about that. Not to put down any bard, or other performers that might do a show there, but minstrels were the best of the best and didn’t perform much in small taverns like this. Usually, they were doing private shows for the likes of kings and upper nobility, since they paid much more.
