The Whetstone Fist 2

by Brian K Declan

  “But nothing, you tell how you cheated me,” said Grimm.

  “My son,” said Flint then one of his eyes blinked shut. Lock knew what to do. His eyes flicked to and space directly behind his dad then he slammed them shut and Slid, “He’s the tricky one.”

  Grimm blurted some unintelligible complaint but the only sound that Lock heard was his dad drawing his blade.

  “I’m fine,” said Lock as he spun around on his heel to see Grimm’s reaction.

  “Cover your ears,” said Flint.

  Lock clamped his hands over his ears before his dad’s words even register in his conscious mind. The moment he did his dad drew his sword. He drew it so fast that the air cracked. A heartbeat later Grimm was thrown to the end of the tunnel and crashed through the gate into the alley.

  “Stay close to me, and don’t jump again unless I say so,” said Flint then he marched out of the tunnels, “Ears.”

  Lock rushed to cover his ears again. This time he was a half second too late and the sound his dad made when he swung his sword was deafening. If the sound wasn’t enough to scare Grimm away the blast that followed sure as hell did. Twenty feet away the cobblestones at Grimm’s feet shattered and peppered him with debris.

  “You have no idea what’s possible,” said Flint, “I could have sliced you into a thousand pieces in the time it takes you to blink.”

  “Impossible,” said Grimm as he brushed some of the debris off his face, “Impossible, there’s no way.”

  “Uncommon sure, difficult extremely, but not impossible,” said Flint then sprinted across the alley and pressed the tip of his sword against Grimm’s neck. The movement was fast but not so fast that Lock wasn’t able to keep up. He did need Flash Step but he didn’t need to push himself to stay close.

  Unlike before Grimm showed genuine fear, and despite the cool night air beads of sweat caused dirt to cling to his forehead, “But the boy, he… he.”

  Grimm was cut off as Flint pressed the tip of his sword into his neck, “Listen well, you piece of shit. This is the only warning you get, ever,” then he lifted his blade a fraction of an inch, “Say you understand.”

  “I… I understand,” said Grimm as he started to nod, then stopped as the motion sliced a thin line across his neck.

  “If I hear so much as a whisper about you causing trouble. If you even look at my son again, I’ll chop your fucking hands off and strangle you with them,” said Flint.

  Flint was about to lift his sword but stopped when Lock placed a hand on his shoulder, “Cliff.”

  Flint’s stare only deepened and Lock saw the tightness in his dad’s lips. He was a hair’s breadth from losing his temper, “Your son did well tonight. He was outmatched and still managed to win his fight. Remember that next time you think to raise a hand to that boy.”

  While the two of them stared at each other the distant voices turned into echoing footsteps, then in an instant the footsteps cut off and Bruno’s voice filled the alley, “Block the exit, and secure the street. I don’t want anyone seeing this.”

  “Nothing left to see,” said Flint then he lifted the tip of his sword from Grimm’s neck and lowered his voice, “Disappear.”

  Whatever Grimm did to get away Lock never saw it, his image just faded away and he was gone. Even though the fight was over Bruno’s enforcers continued to spread out and secure the alley.

  “You know I don’t like unsanctioned fighting around my place,” said Bruno.

  Flint cracked his neck and turned around, “I don’t like threats. You have something for me.”

  “No threat,” said Bruno as he heaved the sword Flint used to make their bet, “That’s yours.”

  “And?” said Flint.

  One of Bruno’s enforcers pulled a small pouch off his belt and handed it to his boss. Bruno didn’t spare a glance as he bounced the pouch in his hand, “We’ll get to this, in a moment.”

  “No moment,” said Flint as he flicked his sword at Bruno, “Pay what’s do or we have a problem,” then his eyes twitched to Lock, “Go home.”

  That meant now but by the time Lock even looked up Bruno’s enforcers blocked off the end of the alley.

  “Dad,” said Lock, more as a question than any sort of concern. Bruno wasn’t the kind of person anyone would want to make an enemy, but Lock had more trust in his father than he had fear for Bruno. If he said to leave, he was going to leave.

  “Go home, they can’t keep up,” said Flint with a wink.

  That meant Slide or as his dad put it Jump.

  Great idea except Lock knew he could only go about ten meters. So instead of Sliding, he triggered Flash Step sprinted with as much speed as he could muster then at the last moment he Slid to the middle of the street beyond the alley. For a split second he glanced back at the alley.

  The enforcers reaction was painfully slow, they were still in the process of shifting their weapons to block his exit. If they had trouble keeping up with that, they had no chance against his dad. Still Bruno’s enforcers outnumbered him twenty to one. That wasn’t reassuring odds but if he had to bet. Still Flint would come out on top nine times out of ten. Regardless he didn’t stick around to see what happen.

  Chapter 15:

  At a normal pace Lock could make it home in about an hour but with Flash Step and Temporal Slide he was able to cut down that time by more than half. The real trick of it was to not Slide so often that he got sick but often enough that he didn’t burn through all of his stamina. It was a tricky balance to find but after his rushed exit from the Santi estate, he had gotten a good feel for his limits.

  As long as he waited forty-five seconds between Slides and only used Flash Step to clear obstacles he did not need to stop to rest or worse puke his brains out.

  Eventually he’d run out of stamina or mana but that could take a couple hours. The biggest hurdle was his own mind. It felt good to traverse the city with such speed and grace. He wanted to go faster, he wanted to Slide over and over. It was no wonder anyone with a Blessing seemed to look down on everyone who didn’t have one. It made you feel powerful in a way that the majority of the world would never understand.

  When he approached his neighborhood, he almost didn’t stop himself. Night was in full effect and getting stopped by some lowlife was the last thing he needed. For the most part he could handle any one off troublemaker but the gangs. They could be trouble and running around at night was a quick way to catch their attention. The locals would probably recognize him and not make trouble but that was no reason to tempt them.

  Lock dropped to the street with as much grace someone his size could manage then he continued on his way at a steady walk. His head stayed straight but his eyes darted back and forth. His ears tuned to pick up any whispers or whistles.

  Two blocks into his neighborhood and he heard whispers, nothing he could make out but there was someone out there. Lookouts maybe. A block later he heard them again. Then there they were again half a block farther. This time the moment he heard them he cut between two buildings and jogged to the next street over. Once there he continued at a steady walk.

  A block later he cut between buildings again, jogged to the next street over and continued walking. The route was a bit of a zig zag, but it only added a minute or two before he made the last turn to their place. It was only a single room in the back of an old carpenter’s workshop but it was home.

  “Paranoid much,” he said to himself but as he caught sight of their front door, he pulled up short.

  Leaning against the side of the door was a muscular man about the same size as Lock. Big enough to intimidate but what was more unsettling was his cloths. Pure black pants and an immaculate white button down shirt. On top of that he had one of the finest looking spellrod’s tucked under his arm.

  “Matlock Sharp?” asked the man.

  “Who wants to know?” asked Lock as he mentally prepared himself for a fight.

  “My name is Gregory, here on behalf of my Lord,” said Gregory.

/>   The fuck does that mean, did they figure out Ronnie was cheating that fast. Maybe they thought since Lock made all those bets at the tournament, that he was working with him.

  “What Lord is that?” asked Lock.

  “He likes his anonymity, but you may refer to him as Lord Star,” said Gregory.

  “He what?” asked Lock then he shook his head, “What do you want?”

  Gregory pushed himself away from the building and caught the spellrod as it fell from under his arm. Without thinking Lock triggered Flash Step, covered the distance between them, kicked the spellrod out of Gregory’s hand and shoved him clean through the front door. Gregory wasn’t expecting it but when he hit the floor he tucked his legs and rolled back onto all fours. Lock was about to rush him again but Gregory raised a hand, “Hang on, I’m just here to give you a few things and a message.”

  Lock controlled his breathing incase the fight continued, “You better start making sense.”

  “Or what?” asked Gregory as he stood up, “You’ll hurt me? An untrained, child. No. Put your hands down, accept the gifts that have been offered, and I will leave you to destroy this… place on your own,” then he cracked his neck. That wouldn’t have been anything out of the ordinary except as he straightened his neck a cloud of shadows burst out of him and filled the room.

  “Easy now, my dad will be home any second,” said Lock, “and I don’t think he’s in the best mood already.”

  “Ah yes Flint Sharp,” said Gregory then with a snap of his fingers the shadow’s disappeared, “I would like to meet him but I’m afraid not tonight,” then he motioned to the table where a solid lacquered box now sat, “Tonight I deliver a gift and a message.”

  “From Lord Star,” said Lock.

  “So you were listening,” said Gregory with a pleased smile and tipped his head, “Lord Star was impressed with your performance today. With proper training and supplies you shall make an excellent addition to the household. Should you choose of course.”

  “Thank you,” said Lock with hesitation.

  “Accept this spellrod, and auraband as a gift for your exceptional performance. Both have been calibrated for you but you may adjust them as you wish. Good luck and may they serve you well.”

  Lock opened his mouth to say something, anything but no words came out. He was so shocked he didn’t even notice Gregory move until he patted him on the shoulder, “I believe your life is about to change quite a lot. Be careful who you pick a fight with next time, they won’t all be as understanding as me.”

  “Sorry, about the door,” said Lock.

  Gregory shrugged, “Not my door,” then he clapped Lock on the shoulder and took a step out of the room, “Take care.”

  “Um,” said Lock, “Thanks Gregory.”

  “Auditore,” said Gregory, “Gregory Auditore,” then he disappeared into the night.

  Shit. Auditore, that made him what the father or uncle of Alexis Auditore. The shadow mage that was in the tournament. Clare said they were a family that served as retainers to almost every house in the country. That meant Lord Star could be some no name local lord, or Lord Santi himself. Neither of those made sense, it was either one of the Stanford’s or Lord Stanwick himself.

  Did he want to serve either of those? Stanwick, hell no. But Stanford lived on the other end of the country, no way he had some personal reason to invest in Lock.

  Questions without answers, no point in worrying over them now. Whoever Star was didn’t matter. He gave a gift without asking for anything in return, not yet anyway. If he did in the future he could be denied and gifts returned. The risk was all on him, not Lock.

  Lock was still lost in thought when his dad poked his head through the doorway, “I’m going to hope that I missed something entertaining.”

  “Huh,” said Lock then he remembered the broken door, “Yeah, sorry that was me.”

  “Girl?” asked Flint.

  “What? No, not a girl,” said Lock in a rush.

  “Ronnie?” asked Flint as he raised an eyebrow.

  Lock wrapped a finger on the lacquered box, “No not Ronnie, someone was waiting here when I got back. Sort of panicked and shoved him through the door by accident.”

  “Someone?” asked Flint with concern.

  “Gregory Auditore,” answered Lock, “He was rather polite, considering my welcome.”

  “I’ll say,” said Flint as he picked up the broken door and placed it back in its frame. As best as he could anyway, “What’d he want?”

  “Nothing,” said Lock, “He says a lord Star wants to fund my education. He left some gifts.”

  Flint froze and searched his face, “Did you say Star?”

  “Yeah, you know him,” asked Lock.

  His dad blinked several times then shook his head, “No, but I guess you did better than you thought. That’s fortunate,” said Flint as he shrugged the sword off his shoulder and tossed it onto the table next to Lock’s lacquered box, “cause the money I won don’t even come close.”

  “But you beat Grimm,” said Lock.

  “Doesn’t matter, the ugly side of Bruno’s business showed up. Wanted him to claim the money and the sword,” said Flint as he tossed a sadly light pouch onto the table, “I convinced him otherwise.”

  “How’d you do that? Do we have a target on our back?” asked Lock.

  “Nothing you need to worry about, not tonight anyway,” said Flint, “Point is we have just under two silvers. So I hope that box has everything you need.”

  That wasn’t a real answer but it was the best he was going to get. Pushing for more information was just stupid. Even the great Flint Sharp couldn’t out run a secret on the street. But that was a mystery for another day.

  “Let’s find out,” said Lock as he sat down and pulled the box over to him.

  After a quick nod from his dad, Lock spun the box around and ran his finger’s around its surface to find the best way to open it. The box was hard and smooth but beneath the lacquer it was beautiful. Like some sort of inner light ran just under the surface. When he flipped the box open that same light pulsed once then wink out. If it came down to it they could at least sell the box for a decent chunk of coin.

  “Fancy box for something so plain,” said Flint.

  “Dad,” said Lock but his dad was right. The spellrod had no engravings, it looked like little more than a thin metal rod. Even the leather wrappings were simple.

  “What’s this?” asked Flint as he picked up a clear long rectangular strip.

  “Auraband, but I’ve never seen one like this. Usually they’re metallic,” said Lock as he plucked the auraband out of Flint’s hand.

  “Looks like glass,” said Flint, “How’s it work?”

  Lock held up the auraband then with a flick he slapped it onto his left wrist. The moment it touched his skin it snaked around his wrist and tightened until it was almost imperceptible. Lock held up his arm to inspect it and found that unlike the last time he wore an auraband this one expanded and contracted as he flexed his muscle.

  “What’s it do?” asked Flint.

  Lock tapped the auraband with a single finger. Instantly a series of black words streamed across the back of his hand.

  Lvl. 5 Human Male: MattLock Sharp

  Exp. 2,134/2,441

  211/211 Health.

  46/80 Mana.

  152/184 Stamina.

  Temporal Blessing

  Mana type – Spirit

  Inherent Ability – Temporal Slide

  Intrinsic Ability – Flash Step

  Skills

  Blink Strike

  Spellwork

  -

  “It tells you about you,” said Flint with a low whistle, “That’s pointless.”

  “What were you expecting?” said Lock as he shoved his dad.

  “I don’t know a shield or something to detect monsters,” said Flint, “Not a bunch of numbers.”

  “Just because it’s not a weapon, doesn’t make it useless,” said Lock
.

  “Pointless,” corrected Flint as he raised a finger, “Not useless. It tells you all sorts of pointless information.”

  “You’re pointless,” said Lock, “besides not everything revolves around how useful it is in a fight.”

  “Give me one example,” said Flint just for the sake of being a pain.

  No matter, Lock knew his dad’s games and was ready with an answer, even if it was bullshit, “A blanket keeps you warm on a cold night.”

  “You can trap a man with a blanket if he’s slow, tie him up,” said Flint.

  “Parchment,” said Lock, “To document your thoughts if you every have any.”

  “Thoughts are better left in the past,” said Flint.

  “Yeah,” said Lock, “Yours maybe.”

  As a welcome surprise Flint took a moment to consider that and hopefully give a reasonable reply, “Probably right. What’s this thing? Kinda dull compared to the others.”

  Haha, I win, “A tube of parchment,” said Lock with the widest grin he could manage.

  “Seriously?” asked Flint as he held it up to inspect the ends.

  “Yes,” said Lock as he snatched the tube from his dad, “Lord Stanwick offered similar ones to everyone who earned a Blessing.”

  “What’s parchment got to do with learning magic?” asked Flint.

  “It’s a school dad,” said Lock, “Even the guard documents everything. You avoid it but I know they do.”

  “Bah,” said Flint as he brushed that off and flopped down on the bottom bunkbed, “That’s for the scouts.”

  “Didn’t you used to scout?” asked Lock as he sat down and began unravelling his enrollment forms.

  “I used to live in blessed silence too. But the world changes every day,” said Flint as he rolled on his side and tucked a pillow under his head, “Who am I to argue,” then he let out an overtly loud yawn.

  Point taken and good riddance. It would be much easier to fill out his enrollment forms in blessed silence.