Savants of Humanity (The Scholar's Legacy Book 2)

by Joshua Buller

  He fumbled, eyes narrowing. “I snapped. Something inside me broke, and I grew unbearably hot. That heat rolled through my whole body, and the only thought on my mind was that no punishment was too severe, no horrors too brutal for anyone who would threaten Winter and the baby. I heard someone cry out, but my vision was going red. I couldn't see anything clearly. There was a wet sound, and something splashed across me. When I came to,” he looked around the room, “I was here. Winter had bandaged me up and wouldn't talk about what had happened out there.”

  I looked back to Winter, only to see she had disappeared. I wondered where she had run off to, but after only a few seconds she walked back in through the door. She held a few sheets of paper in her trembling hands.

  “Hawke, can you look at this for me, please?” she asked, holding out the papers to him. He snatched them, his eyes flying over the pages. I crept over and started reading over his shoulder.

  It looked to be some sort of letter. I recognized the handwriting as the same one I'd seen on all the documents around the house, so it had to have been written by Luke. Most of the letter was a rambling mess, filled with accusations leveled at someone I didn't know.

  Hawke let out a sharp breath and placed his finger over one of the last passages on the last page. I leaned in close and took a good look. It read:

  DO NOT TRY ME ON THIS. IF YOU, OR ANYONE ELSE, EVER SO MUCH AS THINKS ABOUT HARASSING OR HARMING MY WIFE, I WILL MAKE YOUR LIFE AS SHORT AND PAINFUL AS POSSIBLE. THE MESS I MAKE OF YOUR BODY WILL LEAVE YOU UNRECOGNIZABLE. THEY WILL BE PICKING PIECES OUT OF THE STREET FOR WEEKS. OF THAT, I ASSURE YOU.

  “What are you reading over there so intently?” asked Luke. Winter gave him a guilty look.

  “It's that old letter of yours I kept. The one to that skeezy guy we met before we moved here,” she said. I had to give Luke credit: his face could go from pale to purple faster than anyone else I'd met.

  “You still have that old thing!?” he moaned. “You're always telling me to get rid of this mess, but you keep the one thing I actually wanted to burn!”

  “I thought it was sweet,” she said with a hint of defiance. “But that's beside the point. You noticed it too, Hawke.”

  My companion nodded. “I assume you brought this to my attention for a reason.”

  “When the killer whirled on me, I felt a surge of essence. A really strong one. I was sure it was killer using his power on me,” she said. “Then he gurgled and turned into…ugh,” she winced. “You saw the body, right?”

  “If it could be called that anymore,” said Hawke.

  “Well, I was too shocked at the time to make heads or tails of it,” she continued. “Luke was passed out behind him, covered in blood, and I managed to drag him home. We didn't get seen, by some miracle. After I treated him as best I could, I started trying to figure out what had happened. That's when I remembered this letter.” She eyed the papers like they were a dangerous weapon. “I've read it a dozen times, at least. I couldn't get that part out of my head.”

  Hawke stared at the letter for a long time, then at Luke. The writer shifted uneasily in bed.

  “I don't like the way you're acting, Scholar,” he said. “Come on, say something stupid. Say anything.”

  Hawke ignored his request, handing the letter back to Winter. “We'll be back soon,” he said, starting towards the door and waving for me to follow. I trailed hot on his heels, back out onto the soot covered streets of Liturgy. The haze of smoke still clung to the air, dampening the sunlight.

  We retraced our steps from the day before back to the square. I asked Hawke what he had figured out, but he kept silent.

  When we reached the main square, we found Uraj speaking to a soldier that looked to be some high-ranking officer. He saw us approaching and dismissed the man, rushing to meet us.

  “Sorry I haven't been by, the cleanup effort is still a mess,” he said. “I already heard back from a rider. There's a caravan about two days out that's heading this way, doctor in tow. How's Luke doing?”

  “I think he'll manage two days,” said Hawke. Uraj look pleased, but Hawke cut him off before he could say anything. “I think we have a major problem, though. It looks like Luke has awoken.”

  “I would think him being awake is a good thing,” said Uraj.

  “Not like that,” said Hawke in a low tone. “He's awoken to his essence. Luke is a savant.”

  Chapter 14: The Best Laid Plans

  Hawke and I spent the next couple of days taking care of Luke and Winter, helping them until the doctor could arrive. Neither of them seemed keen on staying in Liturgy and announced they were going to pack up and head out with the caravan to look for somewhere else to lay low. The sanctity of their little hideaway had been compromised, and they didn't want to stick around when the town's delegators started investigating the town to assess the damages.

  So, most of our time with the Kamsons was helping them pack up what few of their belongings they were going to take along. I was surprised that they were going to leave most of their possessions behind, but Winter told me it was hardly a concern.

  “I've got a lot of money set aside from my old job,” she explained, “and Luke holds stakes in every publication company in the country. He doesn't write much anymore, except for when something's really bothering him, but he basically helped build modern journalism in his heyday. He makes quite a tidy sum without having to do a thing.”

  It was his writing that bothered me. I had gathered that Luke manifested a power when he told us about his encounter with Bojangles, but I hadn't been able to figure it out myself. It was only after Hawke told Uraj and me about his suspicions that I grasped what Luke had done, and it chilled me to the bone.

  * * *

  Hawke, Uraj, and I ate dinner together the night the Kamsons told us their recount. Uraj was a simple man, but as a king he had to make a show of things (against his will most times, he claimed). So, in spite of the state of the town, our meal was practically a small feast. It made for a good excuse for Uraj to dismiss his retainers and soldiers, giving us ample privacy to talk in his personal pavilion.

  “So, you think Luke killed Bojangles himself?” Uraj started as soon as we were reasonably alone. He dove into his plate of baked ham and potatoes, likely to keep himself from the temptation of interrupting Hawke.

  “I'm almost certain,” said Hawke. He hadn't taken a single portion of anything. He had looked like little was on his mind other than our talk with Luke ever since he saw that letter.

  “What's his power?” I asked around a mouthful of potatoes. I was glad not to have the same anxiety as Hawke; the food was superb. “I figured it had something to do with the letter, but I can't quite place it.”

  “Well, let's look at the facts,” said Hawke. “Bojangles threatens Winter, and Luke's rage boils over. In that instance, his essence awakens.”

  Uraj nodded and took a sip of wine to clear his throat. “It happens fairly often with savants. A surge of strong emotion can bring out latent power.”

  “Exactly,” Hawke agreed. “So, his power manifests, and in that moment, Bojangles is reduced to a pile of jelly, to be generous.”

  Uraj froze with a forkful of ham halfway to his mouth and put it down. Apparently, just the thought of what had been hidden under that tarp was enough to dampen his appetite. I thanked the Almighty that I hadn't taken a peek as I helped myself to some more ham.

  “Now, let's go back to the letter,” Hawke said. “There was a line in that letter that matches the description of Bojangles's fate disturbingly well. Basically, anyone who threatens Winter in any way would come to a short and bloody end.”

  “So, you think his power is like the one Bojangles had, except he can control someone by writing about them?” said Uraj.

  “I think it's something far more dangerous than that,” Hawke said gravely. “Bojangles could only affect people who listened to him. Luke had written that letter years ago, addressing someone who had nothing to do with Bojangles. Yet
it still came to pass, just as he wrote.”

  “Then…Luke's power is to make what he writes come true?” I asked.

  “It makes sense. Luke wrote for decades, all of it informational articles. He was always a man trying to get the truth out to people,” said Hawke.

  “A person who can make anything he writes the absolute truth.” Uraj contemplated that for a bit, his face growing even sicker than it had before. “I see why you're so concerned, Hawke.”

  “Indeed,” Hawke replied. “Who knows what he's written over the years? What secret thoughts he's misplaced? What might happen if his power comes unbidden again, bringing them to fruit? What if he realizes his power and starts trying to make active use of it?”

  I could see what he was getting at. Inexperienced though he might have been, Luke's new ability was potentially the most dangerous power ever known.

  “I'll need to talk with him,” said Uraj. “If he can harness that power for our cause, he would be an ally without peer.” He chuckled darkly. “Hell, if he learns to control it properly, I dare say he'd be stronger than either of us.”

  Hawke didn't seem as amused at the thought as Uraj was. I wasn't either, for that matter. Luke had always been a staunch friend to me, and a loving husband to Winter, if nothing else. I didn't want to see him pulled into the world of violence and mistrust I'd grown so desensitized to.

  * * *

  Luke was thankfully looking better over the couple of days since we arrived. I talked to him when he was awake, telling him about what Hawke and I had encountered after we left Liturgy. He wasn't pleased with Hawke “throwing me in peril's way,” but he did laugh when I described how I subdued the soldiers. He found it fascinating that a talent as simple as toying with locks could lead to clamping two people's heads together.

  I was careful not to discuss his own possible power with him. Winter looked terribly worried, even with his steady recovery. I guessed she had an idea of what happened to him, or else Hawke had already talked about it with her. Best to save that discussion for after he was properly treated.

  The caravan rolled into town on a frigid morning, four days after we arrived. Four large, canvas-topped wagons were pulled through the cobblestone streets by pairs of massive horses with shaggy coats. The soldiers, with Uraj's direction, steered them right to the Kamsons' front door.

  The drivers were a peculiar lot, decked out in mismatching clothes of vibrant color. The driver of the leading wagon was the oddest, a young woman with flowing light brown hair wearing several layers of satin scarves draped all over her body. She seemed terribly familiar.

  I was waiting by the door with Winter as they reined up. The woman looked at me, her face deadpan.

  “Micasa?” she said, her tone flat. That's when I recognized her.

  “Chestnut!” I exclaimed. She was one of the first gypsies I had met, a member of Rouge's old troupe.

  “I didn't expect to find you here. What a pleasant surprise,” she said. She didn't sound pleased at all, but she never sounded like anything affected her. Not until she got a few drinks in her, at least.

  “Li'l Chestnut!” Winter cried, shuffling forward with her arms outstretched. Chestnut stepped off the wagon and into Winter's arms with casual grace. “Did Grandpa come too!?”

  Chestnut stepped back, though kept her hands on Winter's shoulders. “Nope. I set out from Mirth's a ways back to start my own troupe. Got a message from the Mother saying you and your prince were in trouble.”

  She had to mean the Goodmother. The old lady had said she worked closely with the gypsies, but apparently, they held her in higher regard than I thought.

  “When the runner came looking for a doctor, we got worried. Sorry we're so late.” Chestnut looked at Winter's belly and blinked. “That's definitely new.”

  “The baby isn't the problem,” said Winter. “Well, this baby isn't. My other baby has some nasty scratches, though.”

  Chestnut nodded. “I'll get Sawbones to fix that right up.”

  I didn't like the sound of that.

  We had been treating Luke's cuts regularly with boiling wine and frequent rebandaging, and they'd already started to close a bit. When I led a pair of burly wagoners to the bedroom to get him, he tried to insist that he could walk to the wagons himself. Neither of them appeared to have heard him, and hoisted him by his shoulders and legs outside. He spun curses like gold the whole time.

  Winter was still talking with Chestnut when I got back outside. “Are you sure? I don't want to put you guys out,” she said.

  “Gypsies are family for life,” said Chestnut. “We go where we will. And we will go where you will.”

  “But I don't know where we want to go yet,” said Winter.

  “Perhaps I can make a suggestion.”

  Uraj arrived, Hawke close behind him. They'd been talking all night and refused to let me in on the discussion. I was still irritated for that and brushed off Hawke's greeting with an icy shoulder.

  Winter gave an icy stare of her own to Uraj, one worthy of her namesake. Still, she answered. “Fine, I'm listening.”

  “You know what's happened to Luke, I take it,” Uraj said. Winter said nothing, but her refusal to meet his eye was as good as a confession. “Well, I thought it'd be best if you two would be my guests in Damkarei. There are a lot of things I'd like to discuss with you and your associates.” He nodded towards the caravans.

  “I don't think Luke would like that very much,” said Winter. “For that matter, I wouldn't be thrilled either.”

  “Would you do it for me, then?” said Hawke. “I'd feel safer knowing you two were someplace well protected. Plus, Uraj insists that his stewardess is one of the best midwives in Astra. That alone would be worth having on hand.”

  Winter bit her lip. “Okay, if you really insist,” she agreed. “But only because I owe you for all the help.”

  “Thank you,” said Hawke, smiling.

  “Hey, you guys aren't talking about me out there, are you!?” Luke shouted from the back of the wagon. “I can't hear what you're saying! You better not be planning anything funny!”

  “I'm sure Luke will be thrilled with our plans,” said Uraj. “The beach is lovely this time of year.”

  That perked Winter up a bit. “I suppose a little time away at a cozy beach house would do wonders for us,” she said.

  Uraj chuckled. “I think that can be arranged.”

  We finished loading up the last of the few possessions they couldn't bear to part with, and Hawke took some time to catch up with Chestnut and her fellow gypsies. Winter came to give me a last farewell hug.

  “I'm guessing I can't convince you guys to join us?” she said.

  “Sorry. No rest for us. We still have to hunt down that last nullstone,” I said. I wouldn't have minded a little beachtime myself.

  “Oh, Hawke showed me that ugly rock from Mr. Crazy Nose. A journey to demon country sounds like fun. I kinda wish I could go.”

  “I wish you could too,” I said. “But first we have to find this Giant's Shadow guy before we can think about who we're bringing.”

  Winter blinked. “Giant's Shadow? You talking about my buddy Snaggletooth?”

  I was caught dumb. “I don't know,” I said. I waved Hawke over from where he was talking with one of the gypsies. He jogged over to join us.

  “What's up?” he said.

  “Hawke, what is the Giant's Shadow supposed to look like?” I asked.

  “Huh?” He looked confused. “Never met him, but Uraj says he's about a foot taller than me, with tan skin tinted greenish. Two big tusks in his mouth.”

  “Yeah, that's Snaggletooth, all right!” piped Winter. Hawke rocked back.

  “Winter, you know the Giant's Shadow?” he said, aghast.

  “Of course. He's an assassin. We all liked to get to know each other. You know,” she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “gotta make sure we didn't cross each other's paths on the job. Bad for business if two of us ended up getting the sa
me target.”

  “I don't suppose you'd know where he is, then?” I asked, half-joking.

  “Oh, he came to visit just last year. He said he was still prowling his old stomping grounds,” she said. She furrowed her brow, looking around, and eventually pointed northeast of town. “Some city called Happay or Hadday or something like that.”

  “Hafwei?” Hawke suggested numbly.

  “Yeah, that's the one!” Winter said. “If you see him, tell him I say hi!”

  Hawke and I looked at each other. I had said before that we should use a thief to catch a thief. I should have at least thought to try the same with assassins.

  “That's a huge help, Winter. Thanks,” I said. I gave another last farewell hug, and she gave one to Hawke. Then, she returned to the wagon where Luke was, and a few gypsies helped lift her into the back.

  With everything loaded up, Chestnut climbed into the driver's seat of her wagon, flashing us a salute. She didn't so much as touch the reins, but with a single whistle, the caravan started rolling out. I caught one last glimpse of Winter poking her head out of the back of the wagon, waving. Then the horses rounded the corner of the street and trundled out of sight.

  We made our way back to the square to meet up with Uraj. He waited for us, alongside a few soldiers who had brought out Sir Brown Horse and Restless for us. Another familiar horse with a glossy black coat waited by Uraj's side.

  “Need to head out too, or else they'll leave me in the dust,” he said. I wanted to talk with him a bit, but we'd already spent too much of our limited time in Liturgy as it was. We all had tasks to get to.

  “That's fine, we just got an unexpected lead,” said Hawke. “We know where to look for the Giant's Shadow.”

  Uraj raised an eyebrow. “How did you—wait. It was Winter, wasn't it? I'm an idiot. I never even thought to ask her.”

  “Neither did I,” said Hawke with a shrug. “I'll take what I can get, though. Hold things down on your end. Hopefully, we'll be back in Damkarei in a couple weeks tops with the nullstone. Then we can start figuring out what to do with our lordly friend.”