Plague Arcanist (Frith Chronicles Book 4)

by Shami Stovall

  “What’re you suggesting?” I asked. I tucked my flask into my coat. “He doesn’t wander off alone. Your best bet is to wait for your ship to be built and then meet him on the open ocean.”

  “That’ll be years from now.”

  I ran a hand down my face and exhaled. “Let it go. It’s been years since you sailed with the man. What does it matter? This blood plague is more important.”

  A piece of me wondered if Zelfree had understood Calisto’s obsession. I’d seen Calisto go savage on Redbeard—he had obviously had some pent-up rage. Had that not been apparent to Zelfree? How could he tell Calisto to just let it go?

  “Killing Redbeard is important to me,” Calisto growled. “More than whatever this blood disease is.”

  “Look, I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  Calisto shook his head. “The guildmaster of the Frith Guild was killed, wasn’t he?”

  “That’s right,” I replied. “Captain Eventide will be taking his place.”

  “A lot of turmoil in the guild, yeah?”

  I shot him a sideways glance. “I suppose.”

  “Those Frith arcanists trust you.” Calisto stepped close, his arms crossed, the grip on his sleeves tight. “Get one of them alone, and we could use them as bait for Redbeard. You know the bastard will come out if he thinks he can fell someone with an interesting eldrin.”

  “I won’t do that,” I said. “I’ve told you before—my loyalties are to the guild first. I’m not going to risk someone for your petty revenge.”

  Cold winds rushed between us. A shiver ran down my spine. The tension had become so thick, I feared I might choke on it.

  “I’ve never asked you for anything, Everett.”

  I didn’t know why, but I hated the sound in his voice. It was different than before. Not hateful or angry or disturbed. Genuine—perhaps even sad.

  But it was gone when Calisto spoke again.

  “I’ve done everything you’ve wanted and then some. I’ve been there for you—and what have you done in return?”

  I pushed away from the railing and put distance between us by pacing the deck of the ship. “We’ll talk about this in the morning when you’re sober.”

  “I haven’t been drinking.”

  “Still. We should talk about it later. I’m not in the mood to argue this with you.”

  “We’ll talk about it now.”

  That was more like the Calisto I knew—something in that moment seemed to change him. Zelfree must have sensed it, too. I stopped walking and gave Calisto my undivided attention.

  “I won’t risk someone from the Frith Guild,” I said. “Redbeard is a reaper arcanist. Accidently killing him, without a real plan, will result in someone’s death. You know about the king’s revenge.”

  “When you wanted to leave our hometown, I was the one who helped you do it,” Calisto stated, his demeanor and words cold. “When you wanted to become an arcanist, I was the one who took you to the woods. When you wanted to fight alongside pirates and you needed an in—that was me, too.” He walked around the main mast and then toward me. “Or have you forgotten all that?”

  “And what?” I snapped. “You want to run off chasing everyone and everything that’s ever wronged you? Let me clue you in on a secret—you’ll always have someone doin’ you wrong. That’s life.”

  “I’m through letting you call the shots. You always have some reason to keep with your own plans and schemes. At this point, it’s not life wronging me, it’s you.”

  “If you’d stop obsessing about certain things, you’d see that we have it pretty good.” I shook my head. “That’s why you’re so damn pessimistic, ya know. You never let things go.”

  “Enough.” Calisto gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists. “All I want is this favor. Help me kill Redbeard. I don’t need any more of your lectures.”

  “I’m not going to do that,” I said, no hesitation.

  Although I didn’t know the exact time frame, it seemed as though Zelfree had traveled for years with the Frith Guild. Of course he wouldn’t betray them now. This entire conversation almost felt like bad timing on Calisto’s part—if only he had asked for something like this before the arcane plague had been discovered or before Zelfree had grown to enjoy his time with the guild arcanists.

  “This is my ship,” Calisto said. “And I’ll be the one calling the shots from now on.”

  I scoffed.

  “I’m done. We’re done.”

  “Calm down.”

  Calisto motioned to the gangplank. “I won’t be your dog anymore, Everett. Don’t you know that old saying? Wolves live hard lives, but they never have to beg on command. You won’t help me? Fine. I’m in control now. I’ll take my ship, do whatever it takes to get strong enough to kill Redbeard, and I’ll do it myself.”

  “And do what, exactly? Become an actual pirate?”

  “I said, whatever it takes.”

  “Just wait,” I said. “Give me time.”

  “You’re a smart man—why’re you having such a hard time understanding what I’m saying?” He gestured with an aggressive wave of his arm. “Get off my ship. I don’t need you anymore.”

  “Dammit,” I growled. “You don’t get it. I’m self-aware enough to ask for help when I need it, but you act on impulse—if I weren’t here guiding you along, you’d be another cutthroat floating in the bay, killed by his own men in a mutiny. I’ve helped you plenty.”

  Calisto stepped up close, grabbed the collar of my coat, and then shoved me away with enough force that I hit the deck winded. It took me a moment to gulp down air. My chest felt bruised from where he had slammed me.

  “And now you’re gonna talk down to me?” Calisto asked, darkly amused. “I don’t think so.”

  I got to my feet, a powerful ache running through my body. “Curse the abyssal hells,” I muttered through shallow breaths.

  “You’re the same as all the other blackhearts in the world, even if you’re a bit more cunning about it. Get off my ship. Or I’ll run you through.”

  In all these dream-memories, Calisto had never threatened Zelfree. I almost couldn’t believe it.

  Perhaps neither could Zelfree, because he didn’t get off the ship.

  “Don’t test me,” Calisto whispered.

  “Listen,” I said. “We can talk through this.”

  Although there had been a good fifteen feet between us, Calisto cleared that distance in an instant. He withdrew a dagger and stabbed it straight into my side, slicing through my coat and shirt and sinking it deep into the soft flesh just below the ribs. The metal cutting through my insides stung, but the shock of the manticore venom afterward hurt more.

  Calisto slammed me back on the deck, his whole body shaking, his breathing ragged.

  I tried to stand, but he knelt over me, pinning one arm down as he reached for his pistol with the other. Without magic, my options for retaliation were limited. I tried to reach for my own firearm, but Calisto ripped it off my person a moment later.

  Injured and prone, I didn’t know if there was much more to do. “Are you going to kill me, Lynus?” I asked.

  That question dulled Calisto’s anger. He tensed afterward, as though he had suddenly awoken from a dream and realized what he was doing. Still, he didn’t move, his visible dilemma apparent in the way he stared down at me, his dark eyes searching mine.

  Calisto combed his copper hair back with an unsteady hand. Then he stood. “Don’t ever call me that again.” He holstered his pistol and turned his back to me. “We had a good run, but now it’s over. Whenever we meet again, we’ll be enemies.”

  The colors and images faded away.

  Zelfree had once told me that he had fought with Calisto on several occasions, and I’d never forget rescuing Zelfree from the Third Abyss after Calisto had tortured him. A small part of me wanted to see that memory specifically.

  Another part of me didn’t want to know more about Calisto. It was easier to hate the man when all I knew a
bout him were his pirate deeds. One day, Illia would kill him. That was all that mattered.

  I awoke a moment later, someone shaking my shoulder.

  How long had I been asleep? It had been several days, I knew that much, but I didn’t have the exact time. I had slept for far too long.

  Now that I was free of sleep-prison, relief overwhelmed me. I wanted to laugh and thank whoever it was for freeing me from the dream. Then I realized a few facts that brought my panic back in full force.

  First off, I couldn’t move. Although I had fluttered my eyelids open, the rest of my body remained unresponsive. No matter how I tried to lift my arm or leg, nothing happened.

  Secondly, the person who had woken me wasn’t from the Frith Guild or the Sun Chaser or even Theasin or Luthair.

  It was the Dread Pirate Calisto.

  45

  The Leader Of The Second Ascension

  Where was I?

  I was lying on a table near the nullstone cages, unable to turn my head. With some effort, I used my peripheral vision to take in my surroundings.

  It was… a room. Not the warehouse on the edge of the Excavation Site, but a new location I was unfamiliar with. The color-drained wood of the walls told me I wasn’t far from the excavation, though. Unlike the warehouse, this new room reeked like a butcher’s shop. Nullstone cages filled one corner, and an assortment of carcasses hanging from hooks mounted to the ceiling filled another. I couldn’t tell what kind of animals they were. They ranged in size from rabbit to horse, some with many legs, others with none. They had been skinned, which removed most identifying features.

  Linen had been thrown across the floor, most of it stained crimson with blood.

  “Looks like you’re not dead,” Calisto said.

  I had almost forgotten he had been the one to wake me. Although I wanted to speak, I couldn’t. Even my breathing seemed restricted. I took in breath, but I didn’t control the rate. It just continued, despite me focusing on slowing or speeding the process.

  Calisto straightened his coat and brushed the red lion’s mane he had stitched around the collar. Then he grabbed my jaw and tilted my head to the side, allowing me to see the rest of the room. I hadn’t realized how large it was. The area around me was more a nook, a storage space without a door. The vast center of the room had black bones, tables, and hundreds of glowing crystals scattered over every surface—star shards.

  No windows, just lamplight. No air flow. This place had all the comfort of a coffin.

  To my shock, Theasin worked at one of the tables, picking up hand-sized fragments of bone and placing them together as though solving a puzzle. He worked without resting, his focus intense, his lips pressed into a tight line.

  The only other person in this massive room was Spider. She stood next to my table, one hand on her hip, most of her weight on the opposite foot. With narrowed eyes, she stared down at me.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Spider asked, keeping her voice low. Did she fear disturbing Theasin’s work?

  “Relickeeper magic,” Calisto replied, his voice equally as low. “It’ll keep him fresh for weeks.”

  Spider snorted and half-smiled. “Fresh? That’s a funny way to put it.” She ran a hand through my black hair, her nails scraping my scalp. “Was the sleeping part of it?”

  “No. Relickeepers don’t do that. I suspect it was the ethereal whelk.”

  “Is the kid gonna get ground up and put into one of Theasin’s trinkets?” Spider asked with a cruel smile.

  Calisto shrugged. “Probably.”

  His casual indifference fed into my panic. Was it possible to use arcanists in item creation? I hadn’t thought so, but I honestly didn’t know for sure. Theasin would probably know, which didn’t help my ever-growing fears.

  He had given Adelgis his word that he’d help me. Or had that all been a lie?

  Spider moved her hand down my neck, over my shoulders, and onto my chest. I hadn’t realized until then, but I wasn’t wearing my shirt or wootz cotton, just a pair of trousers without a belt or boots.

  “Where’s his equipment?” Spider asked. “He had some interesting magical items crafted by Jozé.”

  Calisto walked away from my table. “I don’t know.”

  “Think they’re in here?”

  “I said I don’t know.”

  He sauntered over to a giant thing wrapped in white linen cloth. Ropes—and nullstone chains—had been used to secure the rough cloth in place, giving the linen a lumpy and bizarre silhouette, like a disturbing birthday present. What was underneath the cloth? An elephant? Multiple creatures piled on top of one another? Or was it a mutilated beast missing parts of its body?

  Calisto touched the side of the linen, and blood bloomed across the white fabric.

  “What’re you doing?” Theasin growled. He stopped his work and rushed around the table, his robes billowing out as he hurried across the room. “Don’t touch that.”

  Calisto moved away from the bizarrely wrapped creature, chuckling to himself as he went. “I thought I could take something from the room as payment.”

  “Not this,” Theasin snapped as he got close to the beast hidden underneath the rough cloth. With gentle motions, he patted the bloodied spot and examined it closely. “Look what you’ve done, you lummox.”

  Calisto crossed his arms and tilted his head. “What is it?”

  “The Mother of Shapeshifters.” Seemingly content with his findings, Theasin stepped away from it. “A rare and powerful creature that must remain undisturbed.”

  Horror replaced my dread. Theasin had somehow captured the Mother of Shapeshifters? What did he have planned for it? If this was anything like the khepera, I knew it wouldn’t end well.

  “Your relickeeper magic isn’t fully working on it, is it?” Calisto asked. “You’re afraid it’s going to break free of your paralysis. It probably will if you just keep it here.”

  Theasin glowered. “Don’t speak as though you have any idea what’s happening. A dullard sea rat like you can’t comprehend the magics involved in this situation.”

  The look Calisto gave Theasin could’ve killed. A small piece of me hoped Calisto would lose control, rip Theasin into bits, and then proceed to smash this whole dig site into oblivion.

  Unfortunately for me, Calisto sneered and turned away, seemingly uninterested in the Mother of Shapeshifters.

  Spider, on the other hand, moved closer to the bundled beast. “What’re you gonna do with this mother?”

  “I’ll take it apart, piece by piece,” Theasin replied. He pushed his robes to one side, fluttering them as he turned to face her. “A flake of this creature’s skin is more valuable than your life. Keep that in mind when you traipse around here.”

  “I doubt that,” Spider growled under her breath. Then she turned and reached for something beyond my sight. “And what’s this?”

  Theasin stormed over to her and snatched the object away—something so tiny, it fit into his fist, hiding it from my view. “Refrain from moving anything,” Theasin said. “You can’t comprehend what you’re dealing with.”

  Without warning, Calisto grabbed Theasin by the shoulder and jerked him away from Spider. With his grip tight on Theasin’s robes, Calisto hefted him close. “Touch her again, and I’ll feed you to Hellion.” It wasn’t a loud threat, but the ice of his words stung.

  Theasin didn’t bother trying to free himself, no doubt aware manticore arcanists were incredibly strong. Instead, he forced a tight smile. “Of course. Where are my manners? In the meantime, why don’t you both demonstrate the ability to follow directions by kindly keeping your hands to yourself? Or should I use smaller words and shorter sentences to get my demands across? Pirates have such limited vocabularies.”

  With the charismatic prowess of a cockroach, Theasin had made enemies of both Calisto and Spider. The two of them didn’t lash out, though.

  Instead, Calisto released Theasin and smoothed the robes over his shoulder. Then Calisto resumed his meandering
, glancing at the carcasses hanging from the ceiling and then turning his attention to the nullstone cages—tiny prisons that no doubt held smaller mystical creatures, though I couldn’t move my head enough to see the contents.

  “Take something useful,” Theasin said, curt. “I know the Autarch thinks you deserve a reward for bringing him a piece of the world serpent, but I’m still waiting for the Occult Compass. Perhaps, if you thought more than five seconds into the future, you would realize that there are many things here that could help you retrieve that compass.”

  Calisto rubbed at the stubble on his jaw. He didn’t reply as he walked back over to my table.

  “Quickly,” Theasin stated. “I have work to finish before the Autarch arrives.”

  Calisto placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll take this.”

  Me? Why? Because I had connections to Illia and Master Zelfree? It had to be. What other reason was there?

  “You can’t have that one,” Theasin said. “He’s under my protection until the plague is purged from his body. Once that happens, I don’t care what his fate is.”

  A small piece of me thanked the lucky stars that Theasin planned on keeping his word. Even if I couldn’t escape the situation, at least I would be rid of the plague by the end of it.

  “Where’s his knightmare?” Calisto asked.

  “His eldrin is with my son and also not an option.”

  Calisto tightened his grip on my shoulder. “A pity.”

  A door opened and closed, but I couldn’t see where. Everyone went quiet, their attention immediately on whoever had entered.

  A short moment after, a series of popping sounds echoed throughout the room. Puffs of white glittering light appeared in my line of vision, and I recognized the effects of rizzel teleportation. More than a dozen individuals appeared within the room, each with an arcanist mark on their forehead, each with their eldrin. Before they had appeared, there had been plenty of space, but now it was a crowded room of arcanists with creatures ranging in size.