So why had he done it? He felt there was something important—some kind of edge he had overlooked. Perhaps it was not to kill the Templars but to observe them? That sounded right. After all, it was not knowing about the Templars’ powers that almost cost him last time, so why did it escape him? He slid his hand to the box attached to his waist and tapped it absently. Was it already getting to him?
Salvo shook his head and sighed, walked out of the cave, and observed the sky. What did it matter if the plan failed? This would be better. All that tricky, subterfuge crap was Koli’s specialty and why did he try to do this like Koli? This was his mission and he would do it like he wanted to do it.
He looked at the tracks. The train would pull into the city any moment now. There wasn’t much chance that he could reach them and strike while they were sightseeing. It would probably cause satisfying chaos, but Levirei’s guards were no joke and there were at least a dozen guilds in the city. He wouldn’t last long, even if he abandoned the ghouls. Dammit, he might have made the attempt if he had a team of the big ones, but he was left with the freaks’ scraps.
His gaze was drawn away from the city to the east, where in the distance, he could faintly see a dark patch of sky, something strange enough to make someone suspicious. That was where they would eventually go and it seemed the best place to intercept them or at least catch up. The ghouls weren’t as fast as he was and a part of him knew he would want to be prepared this time, even if he would not admit that to anyone.
When he snapped his fingers, his undead servants stood as one and stalked behind him as he ran a hand over the dark box. The contents hummed and he could hear it growl, wanting release. This time, he would be prepared and nothing they could do would prepare them for it.
“Arriving in Levirei!” a conductor announced over the box speakers in the cars. “Also, it appears there was a mishap in one of the luggage cars. We are quickly righting this oddity but there may be a slight delay. Our deepest apologies.”
“Did you hear that, Wulfsun?” Jazai chuckled and stretched as the train slowed. “You bumbling around the luggage knocked their schedule off a little. It’s not very professional.”
Devol shifted in his seat and glanced at the diviner with what he hoped was sufficient warning for him to keep it down “You still haven’t told us what happened when you left.”
The large Templar shrugged. “I told you. I went looking for the guys in robes, found them, and took care of them. What more do you need?”
“Well, you could have told us that was your plan,” the boy remarked as the train came to a complete stop. “From what you told us, we could have dealt with them.”
“I didn’t know that at the time.” The man pushed to his feet as the doors to the train car opened. “Besides, it would have looked more suspicious with all of us walking around.”
“At least we would have had something to do,” Jazai muttered and straightened his jacket as he and the others stood to follow. “Seriously, what kind of line was that? Planning for when we get to the city? You have all the plans.”
“We could have at least helped to clean the mess you made,” Asla added.
“You’re gonna keep harpin’ on that, are ye?” Wulfsun sighed, ducked through the smaller doorway so he could debark, and stretched his arms with a yawn. “I cleaned up something far more disgusting than they would want to deal with. It’s even, now go and wait for the bags and meet me at the exit.”
Devol and Asla nodded and moved to the luggage cart while Jazai shook his head and followed. The first action on the trip and they didn’t see any of it, the diviner thought morosely. When they reached the cart, the young swordsman handed one of the attendants a ticket and they searched for their bags. Asla tugged on his shirt and pointed to two conductors examining something that looked like a dagger.
The three wandered closer and Asla asked what they were doing with her dagger, which successfully confused them. Her two companions remained relaxed with neutral expressions as she explained that it was an heirloom she valued too much to ever leave home without it in her possession, although she hardly ever used it. The conductors apologized, handed it to her, and surmised that it must have fallen out of her luggage when everything collapsed. They added that she needed to keep it hidden while in the city as it could cause problems with the local guard.
She agreed and thanked them and the group remained silent as the two men walked away to prepare the train. When they were far enough away to not notice, the three friends studied the dagger. “It looks like the ones Wulfsun said they attacked with,” Devol pointed out.
“Hopefully, it is. If not, we stole someone else’s,” Jazai responded and ran his hand over the handle. “It’s enchanted, but not an exotic. The spell makes it more durable and it loses its edge at a slower rate.”
Asla lifted it to her nose, sniffed it, and gasped. She moved it away and wafted a hand around her nose. “It’s poisoned, although little remains. My nose tells me it’s a mixture of black caps, vantalace, and death root.”
“That last one is no surprise.” Devol folded his arms. “I’m not sure if there is a fatal poison that doesn’t use at least a little death root.”
“Most top-graded assassin recipes call for it but it doesn’t make it plentiful, though,” Jazai commented and looked at Asla. “Liquid or powder?”
“Liquid. There isn’t enough residue for it to be powder, and it left…” She looked around, picked up a small pebble, and rubbed the blade to bring up a dark, inky gunk webbing. “Grime?”
“Baggage 1S!” an attendant called and startled Devol.
“That is us. I’ll be right back!” he stated as he jogged to the cart. “Head to Wulfsun. I’ll catch up!”
“Got it!” Jazai shouted as he and Asla began to head out of the station. She held the dagger by the handle, careful to avoid the blade. “Illusion,” he whispered and distorted the weapon to look like a wand-shaped curio. “It won’t last long but we won’t be stopped unless someone is watching us closely.”
She nodded and slid it under her shawl. “That might be a possibility given that assassins were sent after us.”
The diviner shrugged. “Agreed, but hey, that means we’re making our way in the world now, right? People have to care if they are trying to kill us.”
The wildkin frowned but a small chuckle escaped as they proceeded through the crowd. “That might be the most optimistic interpretation I’ve ever heard you put on something.”
“It’s nice to potentially have fans out there, right?” Jazai quipped with a devious smirk. “I only hope we get to meet them soon. I’d like to return the favor.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Oy, over here!” Wulfsun shouted to Jazai and Asla from the western archway. “I’m glad to see you finally. Where’s Devol?”
The diviner pointed to the train. “He offered to get the luggage. While we were waiting, we found this.” Asla brought the knife out, still camouflaged as the curio.
“A wand.” The Templar looked at them in confusion. “Are you collecting souvenirs or something?”
Jazai chuckled, then muttered, “It seems simple tricks can work on veterans as well.”
“Touch it,” Asla said and held it up handle-first so he wouldn’t brush against the blade. The Templar touched the wand and frowned. “Metal—is this one of those knives?”
“Most likely. A couple of the conductors found it in the luggage area,” Jazai explained and motioned for the Templar to lower the item. “I’ll release the illusion but keep it out of sight.” He snapped his fingers and the illusion dropped and the wand transformed into the jagged blade.
Wulfsun nodded as soon as he had examined it. “No doubt about it, this is one of the daggers those ghouls had on ʼem.” He frowned and resisted the urge to run a finger over the blade. “I should have made sure I tossed them all out, but the other one disappeared inside the goop.”
“I’m not sure if it tells us much.” Asla sighed. “It doesn�
��t appear unique enough to give us any indication of what it could have been made of. Jazai said it was enchanted, I suppose for durability or sharpness, and the poison coating it is made of black caps, vantalace, and death root.”
Even though his hands were protected by his gauntlets, Wulfsun flinched and made a disgusted face. “That’s the mixture for basilisk venom. It causes your body to freeze before it eventually shuts down—nasty stuff.” He took out one of the small pouches on his belt, opened it, and slid the knife in, although the hilt still protruded a little. “Maybe our correspondent can tell us about anyone who might have targeted the client and gotten us mixed up in this. Otherwise, it seems the most likely reason behind this is these were assassins sent by those who created the disturbance we’re investigating.”
“I’ll go with the second idea,” Jazai said quietly. “If someone wanted to kill the count or lord or whoever hired us, there’s no reason to include us unless they are simply spiteful.”
“I still don’t see how they would know who we are,” Asla continued. “I would imagine the client received our details several hours ago. It seems too short a short a time to discover our mission, make a plan, and find people to try to assassinate us—unless they were expecting the Templars to send someone.”
“Well, if they are using ghouls, they probably have enough bodies,” Wulfsun reasoned before he sighed and shook his head. “Sorry. That wasn’t meant to be a pun or anything like that.”
Jazai shrugged again and tapped his foot. “What the hells is taking Devol so long?”
“I’m here!” the swordsman shouted and followed it with a grunt of effort. They all looked to where the boy struggled with several different bags and satchels. They dangled from his back and arms and a smaller one was even slung across his neck. “I forgot how much we brought.”
“You can push those two heavy doors in the order hall open but can’t manage a few bags?” Jazai teased.
“It’s not the weight. They are awkward to carry,” Devol explained with a faint frown. “Do you want to try to carry all of this?”
“Yeah, sure.” The diviner waved a hand and all the bags glowed with a faint blue light. All but Devol’s bags elevated off him and moved to their respective owners.
The swordsman’s frown deepened. “Show off,” he mumbled and tightened his pack. “Next time, you’re the bag carrier.”
“It’s probably wise,” the other boy remarked with a smug grin and glanced at their leader. “Are we off now?”
“Aye, to the Red Wolves Den,” Wulfsun stated. “It’s a tavern in the city where we are meeting our contact.”
“The lord?” Devol asked.
The Templar shook his head. “One of his bodyguards or something is gonna meet us and give us a briefing before we head to the boss. It’s a safety procedure.”
“Do they think the Templar would have reason to threaten his life?” Asla asked as the group began to walk down the large flight of stairs to the bottom of the station and onto the road to the interior of the city.
“Nah. Many may not be thrilled with us but I don’t think most believe us to be malicious, merely fools at worst,” Wulfsun stated. “Not this fellow, though. Still, people in his position can be paranoid. It could be there are some who have targeted him and he merely wants to cover his bases.”
“How will we recognize the contact?” Devol asked.
The Templar felt in one of his satchels and retrieved a golden coin with the Templar insignia. “She’s holding a table for us in a private room. When we arrive, we show her this coin to prove we are the Templars her lord sent for.”
The boy nodded and shifted his gaze to take in the sight of Levirei. It was not the size of Monleans but it was still a large, beautiful city. The central spires of the council building gleamed under the sunlight and the sun inched closer to the mountains in the distance. It would be dark soon and by that time, they might be in battle. He placed a hand on the hilt of his majestic. Even if he had an idea of what they were going against, they still had no real clue where it came from and what it was. That would not change his mind now, but as they drew closer to facing it, anxious anticipation began to gnaw at him.
Wulfsun opened the door to the Red Wolves Den, where they were greeted by the sight of large tables around which tradesmen, adventurers, and guards drank and dined, talking amongst each other. Lit dark metal chandeliers swung above. The group was dressed and armed better than most of the patrons there and so turned a few heads, but the one who drew most of the attention was the giant armored Templar who strode through, looking around for assistance.
“Welcome to Red Wolves,” a barkeep shouted they turned to approach him. “What can I get you, sir? No alcohol for the young ones.”
“Well, there goes my evening,” Jazai quipped quietly and drew a chuckle from Devol.
Wulfsun leaned over the bar and his large arms almost slid off. “I’m looking for…Farah Malik. She should have a private room waiting for us.”
The man nodded and beckoned to a hovering waitress. “Indeed. She got here a while ago. Follow Abby. She’ll take you to the room.”
“This way, sir,” the short, blonde woman called to them over the loud conversations. Wulfsun nodded and gestured for the others to follow. They ascended the stairs of the tavern and walked into a short hall, where two guards stood watch and turned their heads to look at them.
“Good evening. This group is here for Ms. Malik.” Abby said and motioned to the team.
“Identification?” one of the guards asked coldly as he turned fully toward them to block their path. Wulfsun produced the coin and handed it to him. He checked it carefully, then nodded at his comrade and Wulfsun. “She’s waiting inside. Thank you for arriving on such short notice.”
“When weird things happen…well, it is our job to deal with them.” The Templar chuckled, took the coin, and placed it securely in his satchel. The other guard opened the door while the first one resumed his original position. They let them pass and enter the room.
The interior was rather sparse but cozy with a nicer round table than those below and a couple of paintings of Levirei hanging on the wall. On the table were plates of meat, cheeses, and fruits, a large container of ale, and two pitchers of different juices.
At the far side of the table sat a woman in a silver chest plate with a red silk shirt beneath. She had white hair bound in a small ponytail, her skin was tanned, and she had piercing hazel eyes with curved oil markings on the side. Her chin rested on her hands as she studied the group when they all walked in and took seats on the opposite side of the table.
“Farah Malik?” Wulfsun asked and placed a hand on his chest plate. “Baio Wulfsun. I’m one of the captains of the Templar Order.” He raised a hand to gesture toward Devol and his friends. “These are my soldiers, Devol, Asla, and Jazai.”
“They seem quite young to be Templars,” Farah noted, her voice calm but frank. “Or to be handling a mission such as this.”
“I have a feeling this will be a long discussion,” Asla muttered quietly, almost to herself, but Devol caught it and nodded. He had the same feeling himself.
“They are young but they have proven themselves skilled enough to be here,” Wulfsun replied, his tone firm. “Besides, what your lord is paying for is me.”
The woman nodded. “I’ll take you at your word, Captain. I can see they all have majestics so they have to be skilled enough to wield those, at least.”
“Do you have one?” Devol asked and looked curiously at her garb to see if anything stood out.
She shook her head, reached under the table, and produced a sword in a scabbard. “I do not but my exotic can stand up to any majestic.”
“I’m sure it can,” Jazai commented, reading his tome. He felt a glare from Asla and turned to look at her. “What? I’m serious. According to her memories, she has fought against majestics and won a couple of times too.”
“Are you reading my mind?” Farah asked with a sly smirk. �
�I suppose I can’t be too upset. This can be considered your way of checking me.”
“That was the idea, yes,” the diviner replied with a sly smirk.
“I’ve dealt with diviners before so if you have what you need, let me take a guess as to how to deal with that.” She flared her anima. It was yellow, similar to Wulfson’s but a few shades paler.
Jazai raised an eyebrow and looked at his tome, now reading only her current thoughts. His smirk disappeared as he pursed his lips at what he read, then looked at her. “Well, that is unnecessarily hurtful.”
“But it is amusing.” Asla snickered as she read the tome over his shoulder.
He moved the book away and scowled. “Would you mind your own business?”
“Ha-ha! I like her wit,” Wulfsun declared, also reading the book as the boy had moved it close to him when he tried to get it away from the wildkin.
“Oh, come on now!” Jazai sighed and the Templar snatched the book from him.
“If you can serve it you should be able to take it, Jazai.” The man chortled as he flipped the pages back. “Let’s see here…ah, I was right.” He pointed toward the guard. “You are Osiran.”
“I am.” She nodded and put her sword down. “And before you ask, yes I was born and raised there. I joined my lord’s employ after I assisted in defeating a bandit raid during a visit. He offered me a better position and pay.”
“Do you miss it?” Asla asked and her ears flattened slightly.
“Sometimes,” she responded casually. “I prefer the temperature here. You grow accustomed to the dry climate in Osira but I was born in Rokati, which is more tropical. The food is better there as well. We prefer more varied spices than you do here in Renaissance.”
“We had some of our order headed to Osira,” Devol mentioned and a metal hand slapped the back of his head which made him hit the table. “Ah!”
“It’s not the kind of thing you mention casually, boy!” Wulfsun folded his arms in disapproval. “Well, now that it’s been mentioned, there has been a sighting of something similar to what you described in your homeland.”
Bloodflowers Bloom (The Astral Wanderer Book 2) Page 10