by Mike Truk
I felt as if I’d been dealt a blow to the back of the head. It was hard to concentrate on any one thing, and kept blinking in an attempt to focus on faces. A ringing was sounding in my ears, and I was supremely aware of my pulse which seemed to be roaring through my head like surf into a coastal cave.
They gathered around me, expressions ranging from triumph to horror. Pogo was staring through the shattered window and down at where Gremond lay. Pony loomed over us all, his fists no longer radiant. Everyone else was staring at me, I realized. Waiting for me to explain myself.
I struggled to pull my thoughts together. It felt like trying to catch cats while wading through mud.
“The Eye,” I managed at last, pulling it up over my head. “It expanded my thoughts. My power. Allowed me to sense… everyone. For miles around.”
Netherys let out a low, appreciative whistle. “A potent artifact indeed.”
“Was,” I said, giving her a rueful smile. I tipped it back and forth so that it caught the light then tossed it on the floor. “I think I broke it.”
Netherys’ smile died on her face. “Broke it?”
“I pushed too hard. I… I don’t really know what I did. Or how I did it.” Already those last memories were fading into a feverish blur. “I gave the swamp goblins - as many as I could find, in every direction, for dozens if not hundreds of miles, a single order. To destroy the xanthan vines. And then I released them and the Eye… broke.”
“You broke it?” said Netherys, horrified.
Pogo spun around. “You ordered them to destroy the vines?” He frowned at me, and then his brows shot up. “Because!”
“Because,” I said, feeling giddy, weak, delirious. “Because that’s what Nautilus feeds on, isn’t it? The whole bloody trade? Without vines, they’ve no gold. No gold, no reason to be here.”
“You…” Cerys trailed off, wrestling with the idea. “You broke the Eye? To free the swamp goblins?”
I leaned my head back against Yashara’s thigh. “I know. Uncharacteristically virtuous of me, right?”
Nobody spoke for a good four or five heartbeats.
“That would work,” said Pogo, voice clipped with excitement. “Gremond only theorized through top-down attacks. Attacks upon the corpus of Nautilus itself, which, as he pointed out, is an idea, and thus resistant to physical attacks. But its roots drink from the vines themselves, and without that nourishment…”
“The idea withers,” said Tamara, voice soft with wonder. “How completely will the goblins destroy the vines?”
“I made the command pretty damn imperative,” I said. “I think they’ll be at it for some time. Maybe they’ll catch on, too, and keep going at it once the injunction wears off. Griffin and the other one won’t have a leg to stand on, either. They’ll have nothing to harvest.”
Pogo’s eyes gleamed as he smacked one fist into the other palm. “And without a source of income, they’ll be unable to justify their continued presence in Port Lusander! The compounds will close!”
“Which…” said Tamara, slowly working it through, “will result in their leaving and taking all their jobs with them.”
Everyone considered this.
“How many people do the companies employ?” she asked.
“I thought it was almost half the town,” said Cerys, voice quiet.
“That’s a lot of unemployment,” said Tamara.
I forced myself to sit up. “Then they’ll leave, find work elsewhere. Lusander will adapt. Even if that means shrinking to half its size.”
“It’s worse than that,” said Cerys. “Most of the remaining people in the city catered to the company employees. Tavern owners like Matteo. Dock hands. And the rest sustained those people in turn. If the companies fold, it won’t just be half the city that becomes unemployed. It’ll be most of the city, falling like dominoes.”
Nobody spoke as that sank in.
“So…” I began, not really wanting to follow her line of reasoning to its logical conclusion. “What you’re saying is… I might have just killed Port Lusander?”
“Good,” said Pogo. “Excellent, I say. This city is cursed. Built by king trolls in ages past for inscrutable reasons, and then maintained by wages of blood and sin, kept afloat by the slavery and pain of my brothers and sisters. Let the city sink into oblivion. Let the swamp claim the streets, the harbor be devoured by coral, the ruins molder amongst the vines. I say: good! If every man, woman, and child lives here off the sweat of my brethren, then the city deserves to fall.”
“Can’t argue with that,” I said.
Yashara’s face hung above mine, her thick hair falling over her green shoulders, her brow creased with worry. “Kellik. Thank you. You… you did what nobody else could do. You freed my cousins. What you’ve done here… it may not be a deed that will be sung across Khansalon - few of the ‘higher’ races as Gremond put it will see cause for celebration, but amongst my people, amongst my cousins, this is a victory that shall be celebrated for centuries.”
“Decades,” said Pogo, “at the very least.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, wanting to close my eyes and turn my cheek upon her muscled thigh.
“But… I’ll understand if you want to part ways with me now,” she continued. “I betrayed you by accepting Gremond’s offer. If -”
“No betrayal,” I said. “Nothing to apologize for.” I probably should have been more careful in my response, but by the Hanged God I was tired. “We’re good. You’re amazing and I love you. Please stick around.”
“You…?” I’d never seen Yashara blush before, the skin over her cheeks turning a darker shade of green. “You… I mean - ?”
I took her hand and brought it to my lips, kissing her callused palm. “You heard me. I love you, I love all of you. You’re…” I tried to find the right word. If only my head didn’t feel like a bell that had been rung with a hammer. “You’re my family. My friends. I love you. I need you. I want you to stay with me.”
Pogo stepped up and saluted. “For the deeds you have performed for my people, I shall follow your lead wherever it may take us! Which, if I were to perform an educated guess, will most likely be Port Gloom, which I don’t find objectionable, though -”
“Pogo,” said Yashara kindly.
“Ahem. Yes. I’m in.”
“As am I,” said Yashara, reaching down to cup my cheek, eyes glimmering with emotion.
“I still can’t believe it,” said Cerys, shaking her head slowly. “You sacrificed the Eye to destroy Nautilus? To free… the swamp goblins? Who have no bearing on your quest in Port Gloom?”
“I know,” I said. “Didn’t say I’d always be a genius.” But despite my words I watched her carefully, trying to read the emotions that flickered behind her eyes like slender fish darting between lily pads.
She put her hand to her brow, and took a step back. “I… I don’t understand. I thought… what you wanted…”
I struggled to sit up, “I do want revenge against my father and the Family, but not at any cost. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you from the beginning. I’m a flawed individual. Not because of my blood, but because I’m mortal, human - well, kind of - like anyone else. I’ll make mistakes along the way. But when given a chance, I’ll do my best to do the right thing. Maybe that’s Tamara’s influence on me. But for whatever reason, I care, Cerys. I won’t become a monster.” And you won’t either, I thought fiercely at her.
Her eyes filled with tears and she gave me a jerky nod. “OK. All right. I - I don’t know what to make of that yet, but - I’m still in. I’ll follow you.”
And my heart leaped within my chest. I wanted to reach for her hand, to pull her into a close hug, but something fragile and distant about her expression kept me at bay. No, not yet. Maybe not for a long time.
“Tamara?” I turned to consider her where she crouched by my side, face grave, eyes still that eerie, platinum gold. “You in?”
“I don’t know.” Simply said, without gui
le or emotion. A statement of fact. “I feel like I’ve got a responsibility now. To the White Sun. But what that might be, or what the White Sun might want of me… I don’t know.”
“He’s going up against a true king troll,” said Yashara. “The enemy of your order.”
Pogo gave a brisk nod. “And he just saved an entire people from slavery. That is eminently commendable, is it not?”
“It is,” she said, almost unwillingly, and then bit her lower lip in a manner that was truly her own, and I felt a gush of relief. Tamara wasn’t gone, not completely; she’d changed, to be sure, but she was still there. “I just… this is a lot to process, as Cerys said. But - yes. Given what I just saw here. How I… feel about you, still. I’ll stay. For now.”
I squeezed her hand and grinned tiredly at her. “Thank you.”
Iris inclined her head. “I don’t think my debt to you is yet repaid, Kellik, and besides, working alongside you is providing me with many interesting opportunities. I’ll remain.”
“Thank you, Iris,” I said, voice more grave.
Pony reached down to pat my shoulder with his huge hand. “Stay.”
I gave a relieved chuckle and patted his hand in turn. “Music to my ears, big guy.”
“Why did Pony’s hands catch fire?” asked Yashara, suddenly concerned.
“One second,” I said. Only one person hadn’t spoke. “Netherys?”
The dark elf stood off to the side, arms tightly crossed over her chest, frowning at me.
“Netherys?” I canted my head to one side. “You still with me?”
“You broke the Eye,” she said accusingly, “and for what? No offense, Pogo, but for the fate of a few goblin tribes out in the muck, whose fate would probably have righted itself within a century or two? You threw away a priceless artifact that could have made you a god.”
“Yeah,” I said, “that’s about the long and short of it.”
“That’s not the action of the man I thought you were,” said Netherys, voice tight. “You squandered an incalculable treasure for… good will?” Her voice was distraught. Tears, I saw, stood out in her eyes. “What madness was this, Kellik? I thought you had the strength to walk your path true. To go after true power, whatever the cost. To put aside scruples so as to master the world. This? All we’ve done to get here, and you throw it away?”
“You mistake me,” I said, forcing myself to sit up. “What I saved here was priceless. Not your fault you don’t get it. But here. Something that’ll make you feel better. I can sense… on some deeper, untapped level… that this experience, what I went through with the Eye… it’s unlocked something within me. I don’t yet know exactly what it means, but my power. I can feel it, just under the surface, pulsing, waiting, more pliant. We may have lost the Eye, but the power it promised would have destroyed me even as it lifted me amongst the clouds. No. What I’ve gained instead is my own power, I’m coming into my own abilities. So, no, Netherys. I didn’t squander anything. I’ve kept the people I love by my side and accomplished the goal that brought me to Port Lusander. I’m now more myself. More in control of my potential. I’m ready to return to Port Gloom.”
Netherys stared down the length of her nose at me. “So you say. But my own feelings aside, the choice is not mine to make. I will consult with Mother Magrathaar. She will determine whether I should abandon you.”
“Fair enough,” I said, grunting as I slowly stood. “Fair enough. Now, it’s time we got back to the White Sun temple and the hell out of Port Lusander before it all comes crashing down.”
“One second,” said Yashara. “Before we go, there’s something you should see.” And she also rose, to cross the room to where the large iron door was set in the wall. “Gloom key?”
I walked over and unlocked the door. Yashara pulled it open, muscles writhing across her shoulders and back as she did so, to reveal that not only was the door several inches thick, but that beyond it lay a windowless vault filled with - well.
Gold.
Bars of gold stacked high. Sacks of gold crowns, their necks tied off with tickets on which seals were affixed. More bars of gold on shelves. More sacks.
I tried to calculate how much wealth was in that small room. Failed. Tried again. Couldn’t begin to guess.
“One of my duties was going to be overseeing the loading of this season’s profits onto the Nautilus flagship,” said Yashara. “Unlike the Griffin and Ram companies, Nautilus abandoned shipping the vines themselves and sold here in Port Lusander at wholesale prices. This is the accumulated profit they’ve accrued over the past six months.”
“Half a year,” said Pogo, voice soft with wonder. “The year before he said they profited more than seven hundred thousand crowns.”
“That’s…” I shook my head. “That’s at least… what? A hundred and fifty thousand crowns?”
“No, Kellik.” Pogo’s voice dripped with disdain. “More like three hundred and fifty thousand.”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “Three hundred and fifty thousand?” I couldn’t help it. I gave a weak laugh and turned to look at my other friends. “We can buy everyone lunch with that much.”
Cerys and Tamara both raised their eyebrows.
“No, I mean, that was a joke, right?” I felt giddy. “Obviously, we can buy more than lunch. That’s why it was… never mind. I’m going to erect a personal shrine to Blind Fortuna when we get home. Oh, damn!”
“How do we get it out?” asked Cerys.
“Nautilus was going to perform a three-day operation to bring it to the docks,” said Yashara. “A complex procedure involving all their guards.”
“There’s a simpler method,” said Netherys, some of her good cheer clearly restored. She held up the sack we’d acquired at the Fever Dream. “Let’s see just how bottomless this pocket dimension really is.”
* * *
After perhaps twenty minutes of concerted gold-shoveling, we determined that the sack’s pocket realm was sufficiently capacious to encapsulate over three hundred and fifty thousand gold crowns’ worth of Nautilus treasure, and turned back to the portal that led to the temple of the White Sun.
Weary, overwhelmed, mind numb from the pain, emotional trauma, and the king troll power expansion I’d undergone over the past hour, I took a deep breath, drew my blade, and stepped back through.
I’d been prepared for his holiness to be there awaiting us, perhaps with every priest in the temple behind him, but was completely taken aback by who I saw instead:
Elsa.
With Baleric and the Port Gloom crew by her side.
“Hello Kellik,” she said, forcing a confident grin that didn’t quite convince me. “Have fun at Gremond’s?”
I moved forward a few feet, giving Pony room to step through behind me, and shook my head, too exhausted to feel much of anything other than dull surprise. “Make new friends, Elsa?”
“Old friends, actually.” She pushed her shoulders back and turned to Baleric, looking as if she might pat him on the arm in mock affection, only to quickly reconsider. “We’ve been coordinating this for some time. And now it’s all coming to sweet fruition.”
The others were still spilling through, quickly assessing the situation, moving out to the sides, hands on their weapons.
“You’ve been working with Baleric from the get-go? Cerys, looks like you were right.”
“Told you so,” said Cerys, gloom bow at the ready, arrow at the string but not yet pulled back.
Elsa grimaced apologetically. “It was nothing personal. Blind Fortuna saw fit to send you at precisely the moment you were needed. Originally, Baleric was going to fight his way through to the compound, using the delve as the perfect cover for his break-in and escape, but when we saw you were eager to do so yourself, why. It’s all so much easier this way.”
“The Eye,” said Baleric, voice almost respectful. “Please hand it over.”
I took the relic from around my head and bounced it on my palm. “You came all the way
from Port Gloom for this? Let me guess. You were hired by the Family. Someone at the top.”
Baleric raised an eyebrow. “The Eye, Kellik.”
I looked over at my friends. “He can’t have been sent because of us. So I’m guessing my father set this little mission in motion before I was even betrayed by Jack. Makes sense I guess. Hearing about king troll ruins in Port Gloom. He’d want a piece. Send out feelers. Connect with conniving, backstabbing ladies intent on turning a profit, no matter who they had to work with.” I looked back at Elsa, who’s frown was deepening by the moment. “How much of your sob story was real? Your wanting to get out of here and start a new life?”
“That part was completely authentic,” she said, voice flat. “Once I receive my payment for this operation, I’m leaving Port Lusander and never looking back. But you don’t seem to understand the predicament you’re in, Kellik.”
“Actually, I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand.” I felt something akin to pity. Compassion? I wasn’t sure. Had I grown fond of Elsa during our brief time together? “You’ve thrown in with Port Gloom, right? Do you know who you’re really working for?”
“The Family,” said Elsa, raising her chin defiantly.
“And who leads the Family, exactly? The Aunts? The Uncles? Who has the clout to hire an examplar like Baleric?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“The Eye,” said Baleric, voice growing hard. “And enough of this talk.”
“You’d best start asking questions, Elsa. You’d best learn who you’re really working for. Or maybe you should just start running and never look back. Mendev, Paruko, the Heshaman Isles. Somewhere really far.”
I could tell my words were getting to her. A band of muscle appeared over the joint of her jaw as she glanced again at Baleric. The sight of the exemplar steadied her.
“We have the upper hand here, Kellik. My friends are completely fresh and unhurt, whereas you and your crew are about to fall apart. Quit with the idle threats, hand over the Eye, and we’ll let you walk.”
I bounced the Eye on my palm again. “You’d be surprised, Elsa. I think we could still pack a punch. But, to be honest? I think we’re all tired of fighting. So sure. Here you go. Catch.” And I tossed the dead Eye over to her, an easy underhand sling.