The Dragonspire Chronicles Omnibus 1

by James E. Wisher

  Just save Brigid and get out of the city. They had the information they needed so there was no reason to linger.

  “How do you want to handle the door guards?” Silas asked, jogging him out of his thoughts.

  “Directly. We take them out fast and drag them inside. Can you use enough magic to take out one enemy without drawing unwanted attention?”

  Silas chewed his lip for a second then nodded.

  “I’ll take the right, you take the left.”

  Silas nodded again. “Your plan was pretty brutal. Is that why you didn’t tell me ahead of time?”

  “No. There was no point discussing it. My mind was made up. This was the best method I could come up with for guaranteeing either Brigid’s freedom or the guild master’s misery. I need the former, but if I can’t get it, I want him to suffer the most horrible pain imaginable.”

  “What happened to the nice Yaz that spouted random facts and didn’t threaten to burn people alive?”

  “He’s locked in a closet. I am Wrath now. I have no other emotion without her.” Yaz stopped. “We’re here.”

  Across the street a pair of men in shining silk tunics mounted the steps to the guild house. The guards stopped them and a brief conversation ensued. A couple of minutes later the guards appeared satisfied and let the men enter.

  “Customers will make things harder,” Silas said.

  “No, I suspect they’ll be eager to leave when we arrive. Sticking your nose into other people’s business doesn’t pay.” Yaz took a breath to steady his nerves. “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  Yaz led the way across the street. He strode up the stairs like he had every right to be there. At the top, the two guards held up their hands. Up close they were bigger than Yaz expected. Not so big that a solid strike to the throat wouldn’t put them down, but still big enough.

  “Name and business,” the left-hand guard said.

  “Yazgrim Yeager to see the guild master.”

  Their eyes widened in shock when they recognized his name.

  That was when Yaz struck.

  His staff shot tip first into his man’s throat, crushing his larynx and sending him gasping to the ground.

  Lightning crackled and the second guard landed beside his partner.

  Yaz twisted the knob and shoved the door open. He grabbed his man by the collar and Silas did the same. Together they dragged the two guards inside. This was why Yaz would have preferred a smaller man. It was all he could do to budge the still-thrashing guard.

  When they were finally inside, Yaz looked up to see the two merchants staring at him with wide eyes.

  “Get lost and close the door behind you,” Yaz said.

  They hastened to obey.

  Yaz straightened and had his first real look around. Beyond the door was a waiting room with four fine leather-covered chairs. Further in waited a currently unoccupied desk. A hall to the desk’s right ran deeper into the building.

  His guard finally stopped thrashing which helped Yaz think. According to Silas the guild master’s office was upstairs. Hopefully he was in. It was a place to start looking anyway.

  “I have your tea, gentlemen.” A woman in her early twenties dressed in a crisp, black dress came down the hall with a loaded tray in her hands.

  When she spotted Yaz and Silas the tray crashed to the floor spilling tea everywhere. She drew a deep breath.

  Yaz sprinted toward her.

  His hand clapped across her mouth an instant before the scream. “Shh. We’re here to see the guild master. Is he in his office?”

  He took his hand slowly away, ready to slap it back in place at the first sign of another scream.

  “Yes. Please don’t hurt me.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I’m going to tie you to your chair and gag you just to be safe. You seem like a screamer. We shouldn’t be long then you can get back to your regular activities.”

  Yaz tied her up with a couple of spare ropes from his pack and stuffed a wadded-up handkerchief in her mouth. That done he led the way down the hall where they found a staircase with a polished hardwood rail. Yaz took the steps two at a time and in short order reached the top. He turned right and went to a closed door.

  Before reaching for the door Yaz took a moment to center himself and make sure he had Wrath under firm control. Satisfying as killing the man might be, it wouldn’t serve his needs at the moment. All that mattered was getting Brigid back.

  “Yaz?” Silas touched his shoulder.

  “I’m ready.”

  Yaz pushed the doors open. Behind them waited a lavish office done in cherry and gold. Ignoring the finery, Yaz had eyes for only one thing, the slim, middle-aged man in red behind a sprawling desk. His gaze locked with the guild master’s.

  He rose and nodded. “You would be Yaz. I knew you’d show up if I held on to the girl. I admit I thought you’d be here earlier. You’re very quiet. I assumed you’d make threats and demand I let her go or else. A complete waste of time I assure you. You may have forced your way in, but you won’t be leaving.”

  “No?” Yaz asked.

  “No.” The guild master reached up and grasped a rope dangling beside his desk. “When I pull this, ten guards armed with crossbows will be here in seconds. It was very foolish of you to come here.”

  “This wasn’t my first stop. See, I had to drop in and meet Mrs. Saint and Nicole. Jens was kind enough to let us in. Jaques was rather put out at having his poetry lesson interrupted.”

  As Yaz spoke, the guild master’s hand began to tremble. “What have you done?”

  “I tied your family and servants up and doused them with lamp oil.” Yaz spoke calmly, as if discussing the weather. “Then I set a candle to burning with an oil-soaked string tied around it. In about an hour and a half, the flame will reach that string, light it ablaze, and turn your family and your lovely home into a funeral pyre. Now, if you let Brigid go, you’ll have plenty of time to rescue them. If you pull that rope, I’ll cross the room, take you hostage, and we’ll all wait together for the fire. The next time you see your family will be when you try and identify their burned corpses. Your choice.”

  “You’re lying, trying to save yourself.” His voice trembled when he spoke.

  “I thought you might not take my word for it.” Yaz tossed the finger and earring on his desk. “Those look familiar?”

  “You monster.” The guild master lowered his hand and touched his wife’s ring.

  “Monster? You sent thugs to attack Brigid and me and when I killed one of them in self-defense you put a bounty on us. Did you think I’d just accept that?” Yaz cocked his head. “Maybe you did. I bet people like you aren’t used to being the victim. Well get used to it. Now, do you want to keep talking or do you want to get Brigid so you can rescue your family?”

  “Let’s go,” the guild master said.

  “Wait. I’ll need a letter stating the bounty’s been lifted. You’ll need to spread the word as fast as possible as well.”

  The muscle at the corner of the guild master’s jaw bunched as he pulled a sheet of paper from a pile on his desk and started writing. When he finished, he sanded it and blew off the excess. “Satisfied?”

  Yaz took the letter, read it, and nodded. “This will do fine. After you.”

  Brigid’s arms felt like they were going to rip free of their sockets. She’d been chained to the basement ceiling for what felt like ages but was probably only a day. Her face throbbed where one of the guards had struck her when she asked for a drink. The bounty hunters that caught her had brought her to this little side room and locked her up before getting their scale and leaving. The guild master had given her a brief examination before leaving without a word. That was the last she saw of the man.

  Despite the discomfort, Brigid refused to let the pain show on her face. She wouldn’t give the bastards the satisfaction. Not that the two guards on duty were overly interested in her. They were sitting at a table playing cards. If
hate was enough to kill, they’d have both been dead long ago.

  She’d been racking her brain trying to think of a way to escape, but bound as she was, she had no way out on her own. The only thing keeping her from a complete breakdown was the knowledge that Yaz and Silas would be coming for her. She didn’t doubt that for a second. How they’d break in was beyond her, but they’d do it somehow.

  Someone knocked on the room’s door. It couldn’t be the shift change. The current clowns had only been here for a few hours.

  One of them grumbled, tossed his cards down, and answered it. When the door opened her heart leapt. Yaz and Silas stood beside the guild master and they weren’t in chains.

  “Free the prisoner,” the guild master said.

  “Yes, sir.” The second guard got up and unlocked her manacles.

  Brigid nearly collapsed. Before she knew it Yaz was beside her. “I’ve got you. Are you okay? Your face…”

  “I’m fine.” She put her arm around his neck and together they stood. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Excellent idea.”

  She limped toward the door. When they passed the guild master he said, “You’re in the clear now. But when my family’s safe I’m going to put the biggest bounty in history on you two. You’ll be dead in weeks.”

  “Silas,” Yaz said. “Could you take her for a moment?”

  Yaz shifted her arm to Silas and walked over to the guild master. He leaned in and whispered something. Brigid couldn’t make out what he said, but the blood slowly drained from the guild master’s face and he shook his head.

  Yaz stepped back. “I’m glad we understand each other. It is my most sincere hope to never have to look at you again. By the way, when you open the door to your home, open it slowly. There’s a string running from the door to the candle. Open it all the way and poof. I recommend you take scissors.”

  “What was that about?” Brigid murmured.

  “He’s been different since you got captured,” Silas said. “Not in a good way. He scared me and I’m not easy to scare.”

  Yaz left the guild master and rejoined them. He took her free arm and the three of them made their way upstairs. A tied-up secretary watched them step over a pair of guards lying on the entry hall floor. Once they were outside Brigid breathed a sigh of relief. She’d never been so glad to get out into the fresh air. Even fresh air as smelly as the air of Port Steel.

  She tried her best not to think about the two hopefully unconscious men she had to step over to escape.

  Chapter 16

  A day of rest did wonders for Moz’s aching body. He sat up and rotated his shoulder, still sore, but tolerable. Dim light streaked in from the lone window in Bernard’s living room. Moz had collapsed on a cot in Bernard’s house after telling the villagers to burn El-Kalim’s body. His bizarre healing ability was something Moz had never encountered. Though he looked dead, Moz had no intention of risking the giant waking up and going on another rampage. If he could regenerate from ashes, they were doomed.

  A delightful smell wafted in from the kitchen. His stomach grumbling, Moz headed that way. Ella stood at the iron stove tending a pan of bacon while biscuits cooled on the counter nearby. She wore a white apron over a blue dress. Her hair was pulled back in a neat bun at the base of her neck.

  She looked his way and smiled. “Morning. Did you sleep well?”

  “Like the dead.”

  “If not for you, we all would have been dead.” She nodded toward the small table where she and Bernard no doubt took their meals. “Sit, breakfast is almost ready.”

  He didn’t have to be asked twice. “Where is Bernard?”

  “Overseeing the cleanup. He left at first light.” She plated the last strip of bacon, added a pair of biscuits, and set the food in front of Moz. “There, I’ll get you a glass of milk.”

  She poured his drink from a jug kept in a small wooden box.

  Moz took a sip and raised his eyebrow. “Goat?”

  “Afraid so. We don’t have a pasture for cattle yet. That’s a project for next spring.”

  He ate some more, savoring the salty meat and flaky biscuits. It was the best meal he’d had in days. When he paused for breath she asked, “Will you be leaving soon?”

  Moz nodded. “Soon as I finish eating. I’ve got my own mission and I’m behind schedule.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m glad I could lend a hand. What you people are doing here is a good thing. Whether it’ll make a difference in the long term, I have no idea, but anyone trying to stop the war is someone I want to help.” He ate the last of his food and stood. “Thank you for the meal. I wish you the best of luck. Hopefully the Dark Sages won’t want to expend any more resources trying to drive you out. At the very least, you should be okay until next year.”

  Ella sighed and looked tired for a moment before bouncing back. “It’s always one season at a time. None of us had any illusions about this being an easy thing. But worthwhile things seldom are. I hope you’ll come and see us again. There’ll always be a spot for you at our table.”

  Moz grinned. “If you’re making more of those biscuits, I might just take you up on that offer.”

  She hugged him and Moz marched out of the house. Time to collect his horses and prisoner and get back on track. After this, his desire to see the Dark Sages dealt with had gone up a notch. The bastards were nothing but trouble so far that he’d seen. No way could he let them get away with doing whatever they wanted without regard to the consequences.

  A few people on their way to work on the gate waved to him as he passed. The settlement’s stable was little more than a long, open shed filled with hay. Moz and the bandit’s horses kept two mules and a donkey company. Their saddles sat in a corner on a neat tarp. It took twenty minutes to get both mounts ready.

  The prison shed was on the opposite side of the village from the stable. When Moz arrived, he found his prisoner resting with his back against the wall, an empty plate on the ground beside him.

  “So you’ve been fed, good. It’s time to get moving.”

  “Can’t say I’m looking forward to traveling no man’s land, but anything’s better than another day in this shack.”

  “Give me any trouble and I’ll make you wish you were still locked in the shed. I killed El-Kalim, I doubt a rat like you will be a problem. Now hold still.”

  Moz unlocked Alva’s shackle and left the key in the lock. He left the former bandit’s arms manacled, it was tricky since one of his hands was gone, but Moz tightened one enough that it bit into the flesh of his forearm and wouldn’t come loose. After a short walk to his horse, a bit of heaving got him mounted before Moz swung up into his own saddle.

  Everyone waved as they passed through the gate. Some of the damage had already been repaired. Outside, all the bodies were gone, burned up on a single pyre. Good riddance to all of them. The area would be safer without the bandits.

  There’d be more of course. There were always desperate people willing to take rather than work for their scale. At this point, Moz no longer gave that unpleasant truth more than a passing thought. Bandits were like rats. You killed them when you saw them, but you never forgot that plenty more were hiding in the shadows.

  They rode silently through the morning sunlight. Moz was relaxed, happy to be back on the trail. When they reached the main road he asked, “Which way?”

  “North and a little east,” Alva said. “A good three days if we ride hard and don’t run into any… problems.”

  There were plenty of problems in no man’s land, but contrary to popular belief, the land wasn’t crawling with monsters. And what there were could be avoided if you knew how. Knowing how was part of Moz’s training.

  They should be fine.

  Chapter 17

  As they rode out of Port Steel, Yaz could barely keep his emotions contained. He could feel them pounding on the door in his mind trying to get out. Now that Brigid was safe, Wrath’s black ice had begun to melt.
Eager as he was to return to normal, Yaz knew he wouldn’t be worth much once those emotions struck. He’d be overwhelmed, reduced to little more than a blubbering heap. It always went that way when he forced his emotions to do what he wanted but he’d pay the price gladly to have Brigid back.

  He glanced over his shoulder at the rapidly diminishing city. If he never had to visit the wretched place again it would be too soon. The stink, the evil, and the mass of humanity were too much for him. He preferred the quiet of the forest or library.

  “Where to now?” Silas asked.

  “As far away from the city as we can get before dark,” Yaz said. “Did you get all the supplies we needed?”

  “Yeah, no problem,” Silas said. “There was a merchant right next to the stables that specialized in travel supplies. I think he must have a deal with the stable master. Still, the prices weren’t that bad and he had everything we wanted. We should be set for a couple weeks.”

  The group fell silent as they rode past a line of three heavily laden merchant wagons. The caravan guards fingered their weapons and gave them long looks as they rode past, but otherwise made no moves to bother them.

  When they were alone on the road again Brigid asked, “Did you figure out where my parents are?”

  “Haven’t had a chance,” Yaz said. “I’m not familiar with the names, but I’m sure we can find the farms easily enough if we ask around.”

  Yaz made no mention of the fact that his own parents appeared nowhere in the records. There’d be time enough to deal with that later. And if he was honest, he just didn’t want to think about where they might have ended up. No one would have a warrior like his father or a sage like his mother working on a farm.

  They rode for the rest of the day in silence. No one seemed to know what to say. The craziness of the past two days had left them overwhelmed. At least Yaz felt overwhelmed. He wanted to sleep for a week, not that he had the time to spare.