Hozark's Revenge

by Scott Baron

  “And that’s what I’m finding out.”

  “If you don’t kill the guy first.”

  Hearing those words from the lips of the Valkyrie-like pirate brought a chuckle to Bud’s lips.

  “Why, Lalaynia, are you getting soft on me?”

  She flashed an amused grin. “Bud, I’ll gladly disembowel the bastard myself here and now with a smile, but that still won’t get us any closer to finding Henni. We need to move on to other leads.”

  “But––”

  Her face hardened slightly. “No, Bud. You have five more minutes, then I’m calling it.”

  “He knows something, I can feel it.”

  “Then you have five minutes to find out whatever that is.” She studied him quietly a moment. “You seem pretty agitated. I wasn’t going to ask, but is there something between you two?”

  “Me and Henni? No, of course not.”

  “You’re acting as though there is. And I wouldn’t blame you. She’s a feisty one, and a good laugh. Not every day you find a spirited woman like that.”

  “I’m telling you, Laynia, she’s just part of my crew. I’m getting her back, just the same as I would for anyone taken under my watch.”

  Lalaynia glanced at the bloody rag in his hand and the pummeled mercenary secured to the wall and raised her brow with an amused grin. “Whatever you say, Bud. Now, come on. You’ve got five minutes, so do what you’ve got to do.”

  “And then what? We walk away?”

  “Yes. Once we dispose of the body, that is.”

  Bud paused. “Damn, Laynia. You’ve still got it.”

  She chuckled. “Just because I know when to cut losses and move on does not mean I have developed a forgiving streak. That bastard’s a Tslavar mercenary working for the Council of Twenty. If he wasn’t important to you, I’d have killed him myself twenty minutes ago just for sport.”

  A grin spread across Uzabud’s lips. “You know, I forgot how much I enjoyed flying with you, Captain.”

  “Why thank you, Bud. Now, if you’d please get on with it, our connections have been busy reaching out to their networks far and wide, and we have several other decent leads to follow up on. That is, unless you’re planning on going back to your friends soon.”

  “You’re stuck with me for now,” Bud replied. “I’m not giving up until I have solid word on Henni. They took her. Right out from under me.”

  “Under you?” the pirate captain said with a laugh.

  “Oh, shut up. You know what I mean,” he shot back, mirth in his eyes. He turned back toward his captive. “All right, five minutes, you say? Let’s see what I can get out of our friend here in that little time.”

  Chapter Five

  The invisible barrier separating the only two guests occupying the entire cell area was quietly held in place by a rather impressive amount of magic. No ordinary prisoners would have warranted such a display of power, but then, these were not ordinary in the slightest.

  “You are getting the hang of it,” Visla Jinnik said to his young pupil. “I can sense the intent behind your spell pushing it to fruition. Keep trying.”

  For her part, the violet-haired young woman sharing the space was a bit less enthusiastic. But then, she had only just learned that she possessed real internal magic of her own. A most unusual variety at that. And, apparently, far more than anyone had dreamed to anticipate.

  It had manifested from time to time over the years––a bit of force here, some escape assistance there––but never to the degree she had just cast so recently. Henni, it seemed, was of a race thought to be extinct. A people who possessed a type of magic akin to that of the massive, fire-breathing Zomoki.

  Not the ones still flying around like rabid beasts, but the Old Ones. The dragon-like creatures of high intellect and great magical abilities. Those Zomoki could cast mighty spells, and they possessed the power to jump many systems in a single bound. It was a feat that all but the most skilled Drooks were unable to perform.

  But Henni, like the Zomoki of old, also seemed to possess the ability to cast silently. It was something not even the most powerful visla could achieve, for the words to the spells were required to bring their intent to fruition. It was the nature of the thing. Magic simply could not take shape without the sounds intoned aloud.

  Now, those truly skilled in the casting arts could do so nearly silently, the spells no more than a whisper, but they still had to be said aloud. Henni, it seemed, was not bound by that near universal rule.

  The young woman sat cross-legged on the cell floor, a fine sheen of sweat on her brow from her efforts. But it was an internal struggle vexing her, not one of muscle over matter. The small chair she was focusing her attention on simply would not budge.

  “I can’t do it.”

  “Yes, you can,” Jinnik said with utter confidence. “Relax into yourself. Don’t force it.”

  “It’s just not working.”

  “It is. You may not feel it, but trust me, I can sense your power trying to assert itself.”

  “How can you be so sure? There are plenty of people using magic in this place. Maybe it’s just theirs bleeding over.”

  “I told you, Henni, your power is different. And I have to say, it’s really most astonishing, and utterly unlike any I’ve experienced before.”

  “Then why isn’t this working? It’s just a simple pushing spell, but I can’t make it work.”

  Jinnik grinned. “You keep calling it that, but what I have taught you is an extremely powerful offensive spell. Yes, you can simplify and call it a pushing spell if you like, but it is so much more than that. Only the strongest casters would even attempt this spell, and, yet, you, a novice, have almost made it work.”

  “But it just moves a chair.”

  “For now. Once you master your power, you will be able to blast holes in walls with it.”

  “You mean if I master it.”

  “Oh, I have faith in you, Henni. You’re quite remarkable. Stubborn, yes, but remarkable. And that stubbornness might just be the thing you need to help you unlock your potential.”

  Henni shifted uncomfortably. Visla Jinnik could tell the young woman was uncomfortable with being praised in this way.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you what. You’ve got the words perfect for that one already, and all you really need is to focus and direct your internal intent. But let’s shift to something else for a while.”

  “Like what?” she asked. “You want me to pull the chair instead of push it?”

  Jinnik ignored her snark. He’d seen the same frustration in his own son from time to time, and was familiar with the ways to work past it.

  “I am going to teach you another spell. An incredibly powerful one that I want you to practice every single day, first thing when you wake up and last thing before you go to sleep. If you do as I ask, it will eventually become second nature to you. Something you can cast without even thinking about it.”

  “Great, so I’ll be attacking people in my sleep, then?” Henni asked. “Not exactly the best way to keep friends.”

  Jinnik laughed. “Oh, Henni. This is not an offensive spell. This one is strictly defensive. As my instructor once told me, ‘There is no point in possessing a strong offense if you cannot mount a simple defense.’ He was right, you know. It’s a trap a great many casters fall into, focusing nearly all of their energies on learning how to fight but not how to defend.”

  “But if you land a strong enough spell, you win,” Henni noted.

  “Though not always,” Jinnik countered. “And if you are dealt a strong counter spell, you will very quickly learn that no matter how powerful your offensive spells are, you cannot employ them if you are unconscious or dead.”

  “I don’t know. It just seems unrealistic. I don’t have any skill at this stuff.”

  Jinnik sighed. His son had been the same way during the earliest days of his instruction. And those were just the simplest of spells and cast while using a konus for assistance. But Henni’s reacti
on brought those memories flooding back just the same.

  Henni’s eyes sparkled in the dim light of their cell. The frustration was surging within her, but this was a manifestation of her power she simply couldn’t grasp. A different gift, however, made a sudden appearance.

  Without warning, Visla Jinnik was an open book to her, and she saw what he was, as well as what he had been. Henni realized his formerly aloof persona was gone, a victim of his humbling imprisonment. She could sense many of his old attitudes, cast aside in recent times, as well as his immense power.

  She could also read his great sadness.

  He missed his boy terribly, and was willing to do anything to get him back. Unfortunately, that had already resulted in a great many deaths at the receiving end of his power, either directly, or indirectly.

  “You’ll see him again,” she said. “Hap’s a good kid, and I know he wants to see you too.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Your kid. He’s fine. And you need to stop beating yourself up about Maktan misusing your power. You thought they had your son. You didn’t have a choice.”

  Jinnik’s open book abruptly slammed shut so hard it made the young woman wince.

  “Hey, what did you do?” Henni asked.

  “Apologies,” he replied. “It was an instinctive reaction. I did not know you were a reader.”

  “Well, yeah, but it doesn’t always work. But how did you shut me out like that? I’ve never had that happen before.”

  “Some vislas possess the strength to block readers such as yourself, though it requires a bit of effort at first. I, however, have had a few instances in the past that called for me to shut myself off. It is something I can now do without really thinking about it.”

  “What kind of thing would make you close up like that? You’re the most powerful visla I’ve ever met.”

  “Perhaps, but in negotiations, sometimes readers are surreptitiously inserted into the proceedings in an attempt to gain an upper hand.”

  “Oh, I get it,” Henni said. “Kind of like cheating at gambling by having a friend give signals.”

  “In a sense, I suppose,” he replied, the hard-sealed barrier around his mind slowly softening once more. “You know, your ability to do that so naturally makes me wonder if we should go with natural, instinctive lessons for the moment. What do you say we shift to the very first spells a child ever learns?”

  “What, an illumination spell?”

  “Precisely. So simple any child can do it, but here, without a konus, it would draw only upon your internal strength.”

  Henni hemmed and hawed a moment. “Well, I guess I can try.”

  “Excellent. Take your time. Build the spell inside yourself. Think the words and feel the intent, but do not speak them aloud. Imagine you have a konus to draw from, and then cast as if you fully expect the spell to work. As if you know it will.”

  “Okay, but I don’t know if it’ll do anything.”

  “We shall see soon enough,” he replied.

  Henni focused her energy on the space in front of her, calling up the spell every child learns in their earliest years. The illumination spell that lets them overcome the natural fear of the dark innate to nearly all species.

  “Good, keep at it,” Jinnik said as a faint glow began to form in front of Henni.

  She felt a flush of adrenaline as she realized it was actually working, but instead of making her spell falter, the chemical surge strengthened her casting until a glowing ball of light hung in the air in front of her.

  “Very good. Very good, indeed!” Jinnik said with a pleased grin.

  Henni felt a burst of excitement at her progress. That, and an unusual surge in confidence led her to try something else. She shifted to a spell she learned many years later. A kindling spell.

  The ball of light sputtered, then shifted shape, reforming into a ball of fire. Jinnik’s eyes widened at her unexpected trick. Henni smiled wide, then cast the extinguishing modification, ending the spell.

  “Henni, that was wonderful!” Visla Jinnik exclaimed. “Why, if you can do that, I would imagine that––”

  He fell silent as the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, growing louder.

  “Stay calm, Henni. I will be all right,” Jinnik said.

  But Henni’s eyes were sparkling, and she was alarmed.

  “They’re not coming for you,” she said. “They’re coming for me.”

  Chapter Six

  “The little bitch bit me!” the Tslavar guard complained to his companion.

  Henni glared up at him from the ground, a thin line of his blood on her lips, which were curled into a cruel grin despite the punch he had landed on her.

  “Idiot, you can’t hit her. The visla made it very clear, this one’s not to be hurt. She’s special.”

  “She’s a pain in my ass,” the bleeding guard griped.

  “Oh, of that there’s no doubt. But do you want the visla mad at you?”

  The guard hesitated a moment in thought.

  “That was a rhetorical question, idiot. And why would you even let her get that close to you without just activating the control collar? That’s what the damn thing is there for.”

  “Well, yeah. But she bit me.”

  “I don’t care if she booted you in the mivonks, you don’t lay hands on the visla’s pets. Now, come on. Niallik left clear instructions until she returns.”

  “I don’t see why she doesn’t just do it herself,” the guard whined.

  “Because she’s the visla’s favorite. And she’s forgotten more about interrogation and torture than you and I have ever learned. So, come on already. Let’s just get this done.”

  The guard looked at the small woman and cast the lightest restraint command to her collar. Henni’s limbs locked up, but she found she could still move, albeit uncomfortably and with little grace.

  “Behave, you hear?”

  “Fuck you.”

  He increased the spell, adding pain to the mix. Henni resisted as best she could, but soon enough she cried out from the agonizing spell.

  “Okay, okay!”

  “Thought so,” the guard said, releasing the spell. “Now, come along. You’re going to use your power and do what the visla wants.”

  “How’s that?” Henni asked as she was led to a low table with a few freshly forged konuses on them.

  “Power these,” the Tslavar reiterated. “That’s all you have to do.”

  The devices were so hot that she could still smell the acrid tang of smoke coming off the metal. Somewhere very nearby was a smelting facility. Likely similar to the one she and the others had found abandoned on Gravalis. Right before the whole place nearly collapsed on their heads, that is.

  “You want me to power those?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Sorry, but that’s just not going to happen.”

  “Do what we tell you or––”

  “Shut up, Makkis,” the other guard cut him off. “Sorry for my friend there. He can get a bit carried away at times.”

  Henni gingerly touched her bruising cheek. “Gee, ya think?”

  “Well, you did bite him,” he replied with a friendly laugh. “But seriously, all you have to do here is just power these up. Even just a little bit will suffice. Anything is a good start.”

  “Still not happening,” she said. “Nice try, though.”

  “Come now. We don’t ask much.”

  “Listen, I don’t even know how to do what you’re asking. But honestly, even if I did, there’s no way I’d lift a finger to help the likes of you assholes.”

  The guard’s good cop charade ended as quickly as it began. “Fine,” he growled, a nasty grin forming on his lips. “You want to play it the hard way? We play it the hard way. But you should know, you’re not the only one whose ass is on the line. If you don’t do as you’re told, your friends will suffer too.”

  “Oh, that’s rich. Do you even know who my friends are? You want to talk ab
out suffering? When they get their hands on you, you’ll find out what real suffering is. The horrible things they’ll do to you will make your head spin. That is, if they let you live that long. And if I don’t get to you first.”

  The guard let out a deep laugh. “You don’t frighten me, girl. You have no power over me.”

  Henni chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked, a bit unsettled by her utter lack of fear.

  “You said I have power,” she replied.

  “Wait, what?”

  “You said I have power, and you want to use it. But then you said I have no power. So, which is it?”

  The exasperated guard sighed. “Just do as you’re commanded.”

  “And use the power you just said I don’t have? Wow, you keep contradicting yourself, you know that?” she said, turning to the guard she’d bitten earlier. “Your buddy here really sucks at this, you know that?”

  “Are you sure I can’t hit her?” the Tslavar guard reiterated.

  “No, you cannot. But we can do this,” his associate said as he cast a nasty stun spell.

  Henni fell to the ground, barely conscious and utterly unable to move.

  It was a ballsy move, using magic so near the freshly forged konuses. The slightest miscasting and it could have been a catastrophe. But in the heat of the moment he had forgotten Niallik’s warnings.

  “Help me with this annoying wench,” he said.

  “Help you what? You knocked her out.”

  “Help me put her in the chair.”

  “Oh.”

  The two men picked up Henni’s immobile form and carefully secured her to the sturdy, magic-imbued chair that Visla Jinnik had become so familiar with as his power was stolen from him day after day.

  It was a brutal process, and one that left him utterly drained. But as he was not charging the konuses of his own free will, it was the only way his captors could use his power.

  Henni sat slumped in the chair, her arms and legs fastened in place. A small table was placed in front of her, likewise imbued with the same power-funneling magic the chair possessed. An uncharged konus was set on the table, warm and waiting. The Tslavar in charge flashed a cruel smile.