by Mike Truk
She was so surprised that she nearly fumbled it. Caught it up, raised it and inspected it carefully, obviously expecting it to be a fake. “This is it? Gremond’s artifact?”
“It technically belonged to the White Sun,” I said, “but yes, that’s what he was using to control the swamp goblins.”
She handed it over to Baleric, who studied it with a frown. As long as none of them tried to use it, they shouldn’t be able to realize it was broken.
“And Gremond?” Elsa asked.
“Dead,” I said.
She let out a soft grunt, though whether due to surprise or pleasure I couldn’t tell. “I never really thought you’d pull it off. Guess I’ve underestimated you from the beginning. My apologies. I guess Naveric will ascend now. With Gremond gone, it’s almost enough to make me reconsider my options. But no. Thank you, Kellik, for doing all the hard lifting for us. You stupid, arrogant idiot. We’ll be going now. Take care.”
I could sense her confusion. I wasn’t getting mad. Her insult was an attempt to get a rise from me, coerce me into playing the part she’d expected, could understand. I should have been furious at being double-crossed and robbed, but with the Eye dead, my whole system still in shock, and after all we had just gone through? I was past caring.
“Sure thing, Elsa. Enjoy the Eye.” I looked over to the somber exemplar. “Baleric, I’ll be seeing you around, I’m sure.”
He slid the Eye into a large pouch and pulled the drawstrings shut. “Kellik.”
The rest of his crew - the massive city troll, the pale sister, the red-haired youth and the muscled lady with the big sword - all stepped aside. Elsa was the last to do so. I could have sworn that was regret that flashed across her face - a desire, perhaps, to leave with me - but I didn’t wait. She’d chosen her friends. I led the way across the temple floor, my friends behind me, and through an archway, down the curving hallway, out a side tunnel and to a door that let us out into the street.
It was still morning. The sun was glorious and almost right overhead, the air humid and heavy, the sounds of Port Lusander normal and busy as always.
For now.
I took a deep breath, flashed a smile at my friends, and led the way down the sloping streets to the docks. It was like walking through a ghost city that didn’t know it had died yet. Eerie, surreal, and causing me endless spikes of guilt. Watching shopkeepers hawk their goods from doorways, the trundle of carts laden with Nautilus-stamped crates heading down to the docks, the racing groups of dirty children who could have been gentlefingers if back home - all of it normal, prosaic, and doomed.
The avenue opened up onto the multi-level docks, and I gazed over the ships that bobbed at anchor or were tied to the piers. The company ships were resplendent along their private port, while of the Bonegwayne nothing remained but the scorched and warped planks of its former pier. The docks were alive with activity, everything normal and busy as always, with flocks of seagulls hovering and darting down at the decks of ships or fighting over fish intestines where they gleamed in piles on the boards, men mending nets, others loading crates or lobster traps, sailors shouting out commands or questions from their decks, costermongers crying out their wares, the slap of waves mingling with laughter, cries of anger, and all the general cacophony of a busy dock.
And there floated the Filthy Spume, looking as disreputable and dangerous as any ship that had once been owned by Elias. The deck was quiet, and I espied just one lookout up in the rigging.
On impulse I turned back to my friends. They bunched before me, Pony looming at the back, everyone haggard and worn despite having spent only a few hours in the ruins.
“Pogo, time to press that claim on the Filthy Spume. Doctor the deed however you think best to make it look like Elias signed it over to us. Yashara, Pony, why don’t you go with him to make sure nobody objects too strenuously. Cerys, want to go ring that lampetraman bell and arrange for an escort? Maybe see if Anacoana is available to help expedite the process. Tamara, Netherys, can you come with me? There’s a couple of friends I want to chat with before we leave.”
“Friends?” asked Tamara, falling in with me as I walked toward the Mermaid. “You have friends?”
“Ha, ha,” I said, but smiling nonetheless. “You’d be surprised. My charming, rugged ways are appreciated by many -”
“I’ll go help Pogo,” said Netherys, “if you insist on telling bald-faced lies.”
Tamara laughed. “And that from your most fervent follower, Kellik!”
“Not so fervent any longer,” said Netherys, looking away.
“Oh, come on,” I said, taking her arm and giving her a grin. “The odds of my bringing mass destruction and chaos to the world are still pretty good, right? I’m sure Mama Maggie will want you to stay with me.”
“Mama Maggie?” asked Netherys, genuinely shocked. “You’re not referring to Mother Magrathaar, the witch queen of the dark elves who rides the winds of the Maelstrom, in such manner?”
“Ah, Mama Maggie and I are best friends. I cause destruction, she claps her hands and giggles. Aaaand sends demons shaped from black ichor to make things more interesting. You know.”
Tamara covered her mouth as she gave an incredulous laugh, and Netherys could only shake her head in amazement as she stared at me from beneath her hood.
“You are utterly mad,” she said.
“Yeah, so I’ve been told. Probably why you like me so much.”
She arched a brow. “Don’t be so sure.”
“Oh, come on. Admit it.” The sun on my face felt great. Having almost four hundred thousand gold crowns in my possession felt great. Having survived that massive shit-show felt amazing. So maybe I was being a little bold with my bantering. “Admit you care for me beyond the potential for Khansalon-wide slaughter and anarchy.”
Netherys actually blushed and looked away.
“See?” I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Room for love even in that twisted dark elf heart of yours.”
“I - I’ve never heard such foolishness. If you think I am at all infatuated with your crude human ways, your imbecilic grasp of reality, your lack of impulse control, your fatuous optimism that goes beyond being juvenile and straight into the deluded -”
“Yep,” I said, turning to grin at Tamara. “She definitely likes me.”
Netherys drew a deep breath, and I saw purple flames begin to flicker over her hands.
I released her shoulders. “Luckily! We’re here.”
I led them into the Mermaid before she could protest any further, and there saw Matteo as usual behind the bar, chin propped on one hand as he sketched out a mermaid with a slender stick of charcoal upon an expanse of parchment. The Mermaid was quite full for the hour, and I immediately saw why: Maestria’s crew was taking up all the tables at the back, half of them asleep, Maestria spinning a dagger as it lay on the table before her so that it blurred as it revolved, turning upon a small gem embedded in the hilt.
“Kellik!” Matteo straightened, a worried smile on his face. “My patrons aren’t going to be happy you’re here. I’ve heard nothing but -”
“Kellik?” Maestria raised an eyebrow and turned to glare at me. “Blind Fortuna be praised. I was wondering why I didn’t gut you last night, but now I see I have a chance. A chance to gut you.” Her voice was slurry with drink. “Jonas?”
“Captain?” The voice was sleepy, the first mate raising his head from his crossed arms.
“Get the crew on their feet. We’re going to see how many pieces we can cut Kellik into.”
All right. So Maestria and her crew were still nursing a grudge. Not that I could blame them.
I walked up to the bar, ignoring the rumble of chairs being pushed back and angry sailors growling at the sight of me to beam at Matteo. “So. About that goblin riddle.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You solve it?”
“No. But fuck goblin riddles. I can do one better. Netherys? The sack?”
She hesi
tated for but a second then handed it over. I opened it, peered inside and saw a strange, vasty darkness in which everything hovered as if on shelves of pure midnight. I reached in, plucked out the original sack of gold with which Kzzgt had intended to purchase Netherys, and dropped it on the bar.
It landed with an audible thump.
Matteo stared down at it, wide-eyed, then back up at me. “I don’t understand.”
“You helped me out, Matteo, when nobody else would. You were a friend despite obviously wanting me to stop making life incredibly dangerous for you. So, it’s the least I can do. I don’t know exactly how much is in there, but I’m guessing it’s close to a thousand crowns of solid gold. What are the odds your family fortune would be bigger than that?”
“A thousand… my family… I…” He shook his head, looking as shocked as a man who had just received an unexpected thousand gold crowns. “Bigger than that? I doubt it?”
I reached over to clap him on the shoulder. “Then there you go. You’re a free man. Sell the Mermaid, or rent it out, and get about your life. You’ve only got the one. No sense in wasting it doing something you’re not passionate about.”
Maestria had rounded the bar, her crew bunched up behind her, weapons drawn, all of them looking as mean and vicious as you’d expect.
“That’s rich,” said Maestria. “You ruin my life, burn my ship to the ribs, and give him a thousand crowns? Oh, as if I weren’t mad enough already. At least this morning is going to provide the right kind of entertainment.”
“Maestria.” I turned to face her full on, sack still in hand. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m in need of a captain and a capable crew. Are you available for work?”
That drew her up short, and then she shook her head in obvious wonder. “Even now I find it hard to believe how recklessly stupid you can be, Kellik. You really want us to make your death as excruciating and slow as possible? Very well. Boys? Seize him and take him ‘round back.”
“Because I’ve just acquired a ship called the Filthy Spume - not the best name, I know - and it needs a captain and crew I can trust. We’re heading out, well, now. Also, I believe I owe you for the loss of the Bonegwayne. What do you think that comes out to? Around nine thousand gold?”
She and her crew had only managed to take a couple of steps before my question drew her up short once more. “What are you on about, Kellik?” Her voice had grown wary, as if she suspected a greater joke was being played at her expense than she had realized. “Don’t mess with me. Not now. Not after all you’ve done.”
“Let’s say nine thousand, and round it up to ten to share with your crew.” I reached into the bag and pulled out a gold bar. It was stamped with a Nautilus symbol, beneath which was written ‘400 ounces.’”
I looked around the room. “Anybody know how many ounces in a gold coin?”
Havatier pushed his way to the front, scratching at his sideburns. His face was streaked with soot, his eyes red, and he glared at me sourly. “A Carneheim sun weighs seven grams. Four suns to an ounce of gold.”
“Simple enough,” I said, and threw the bar up so it spun and landed back in my palm with a meaty thwap. “This bar’s worth about… what’s four times four hundred?”
“Sixteen hundred,” said Havatier, eyes locked on the bar.
“Sixteen hundred Carneheim suns. Which means we need - how many bars do we need to reach ten thousand?”
“Six,” said Havatier, voice dropping to a whisper. “That comes out to nine thousand six hundred suns.”
I dug into the sack and pulled out five more bars, handed the sack back to Netherys, then stepped up to Maestria.
“Six bars of Nautilus-stamped gold, which comes out to nine thousand six hundred suns. I’ll give you the rest in coins once we’re aboard the Spume. What do you say, Captain?”
She reached forward with shaking hands and took the bars. Hefted them, then handed one over her shoulder to Havatier, who muttered something under his breath and passed his fingers over the gold.
Havatier gulped audibly.
“This, ah. This is the, ah.” He coughed into his fist, and tried again. “This is the real thing, Captain. Solid gold. Highest quality.”
Maestria’s lone eye filled with tears as she shook her head in wonder. The bars trembled in her grip, and she lowered her head as she took a sharp breath. Gathered herself, squared her shoulders and raised her head once more to stare at me full on. Her voice, when she spoke, was its old authoritative self. “The Bonegwayne was worth more than this, but it’s a start. We can negotiate the particulars, including damage to my reputation, loss of papers and cargo, later. For now… for now, this will do.”
And she turned to hand the bars to Jonas, how slowly and with the utmost reverence slid them into a large sack that he had belted to his side.
“Captain,” said Samel the boatswain, “this - is this for real? What just happened?”
“What just happened,” said Maestria, voice calm and clear and commanding once more, “is that we’re back in business, boys. This Spume,” she said, turning to me. “That would be the two-masted frigate out on the dock?”
“I believe so, yes. Can you sail her?”
“Can we sail her?” she asked derisively, and her crew chuckled darkly. “Of course we can sail her. She’s yours? Did you just purchase her? You have the papers?”
“You can say we inherited her a month or so ago,” I said. “Took her off the hands of a less deserving owner. The papers are with Pogo who’s claiming the ship right now.”
“Very well. I’d ask you more questions but seeing as you don’t know the mizzen mast from the fore, I’ll not waste anyone’s time. All right, boys, we’re heading down to the docks. Looks like we’ve got a new ship to sail.”
And with that the crew let out a ragged cheer, so full of life and heart that it actually brought a knot to my throat. Maestria led them to the front door of the Mermaid, and there stopped to look back at me.
“Kellik! Where we sailing to?”
My smile was dark and dangerous, and the words lit a fire in my gut and set my heart to racing before I even spoke them.
“Port Gloom, Captain. Port Gloom. We’re going home.”
THE END
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The Five Trials (ebook and audiobook)
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My name's Noah Kilmartin. I'm from Ruddock, Ohio, and I'm absolutely, 100% unqualified to save the universe from the slavering demonic hordes of the super evil bitch queen Lilith.
Too bad nobody asked my opinion.
All I've got to do is pass five lethal trials that'll prove I'm the universe's last chance at salvation. To do so I'll have to lean hard on those three years of Okinawan jiu-jutsu classes I took in high school, learn to wield my new magic sword, and oh yeah - select five women to flesh out my team, bonding with each one for arcane purposes and desperately trying to stay alive in the process.
Piece of cake. Right?
Warning and minor spoilers: "The Five Trials" is an 18+ book intended for mature readers. It contains graphic sex, medieval violence, and nudity. People curse, piss their pants, hack off heads, get a little dizzy, tortured, seduce each other, try to seduce each other, and scared witless by horrors from the darkest dimensions. Most importantly, you'll meet gorgeous, powerful women, some capable for hurling lightning, others of swinging battle-axes, and one that's Noah's unrequited crush from high school. All of them are willing to enter unconventional, polyamorous, harem relationships if it means saving the universe, and luckily for Noah, this time it actually does. Read at your own risk.
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