A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos)

by Wilkerson, Brian

  “Well . . .” Eric said sheepishly. “I did say it was a steal . . .”

  By the time he finished his story, the library was in sight. It looked like the Temple of Language because its clergy founded the library at the same time. A popular joke called it their “practical temple.” The pair found an unused card catalog and Eric made sure to exclude anything written by Dengel, since “runes weren’t his specialty.” The greater mage was not amused.

  From the library, Eric led her to the border between Red Town and Orange Town, Cutlass Bridge. There weren't any houses nearby, so when Annala asked, he pointed to a flight of stairs.

  “You live under a bridge?” Annala asked. “Do you have a troll for a roommate?”

  “Not yet,” Eric muttered as he hesitantly dug for his key. For the first time, he was embarrassed for his home. It wasn't made, or kept, with the idea that it would entertain company. He laughed nervously as Annala entered and inspected.

  “It's not as bad as I thought; a teenage boy living the life of a mercenary. I expected a mess.”

  “If you want a mess, you should see Tiza's. I think she tries to make it messy.”

  “She sounds fun to work with.”

  Eric could only rub his forehead. “It's definitely not dull.”

  His humble home was so humble it never expected guests. There wasn’t even a place for Annala to sit. “Uhh . . . make yourself at home. You're welcome to whatever’s in those bags.” Annala thanked him and picked one. Reaching inside, she pulled out a beanbag bigger than the trash bag. She tilted her head, then shrugged and sat on it

  “Comfy. What are the odds I’ll find a rune remover?”

  Eric shrugged. “The secrets of the universe are in there as far as I know. I'm sure I'll find a way to get those things off by tomorrow.”

  “All right . . . Eric . . . thanks . . .You were a true friend today.”

  “Hey, I wouldn't kill for anyone else.”

  His attempt at humor failed miserably. He killed someone; a murderer now. He sighed and sat down. For now, he needed to help Annala.

  While he dove into the books, Annala dove into the bags. First there was the beanbag . . . the exact thing she needed. Then she pulled out books on runes . . . After finding more of the same, she chose a different bag. This one had nothing but random junk.

  Sorting the junk from the still useable items gave her something to do. Her thoughts about the bags from earlier disappeared as she found random items or useless junk. Soon she was bored. She'd much rather be reading that novel she started the other day, but it was at home and she didn't feel comfortable alone. She reached into a new bag and felt a book. It didn't feel like a scholarly text. She pulled it out and gasped. It was the very novel she was thinking about! She squealed in delight.

  “Find something?” Eric asked, eyes glued to his current text.

  “Yep,” Annala said. She sat crossed legged on her beanbag and opened the book.

  The next morning, she awoke to an endearing sight. Eric was asleep at his desk with a book as a pillow. Each and every other book they checked out was stacked to either side. She tiptoed to his chair and gently shook him.

  “Stupid book . . .” Eric moaned in his sleep. “Useless . . .” He shifted into a more comfortable position. Annala giggled and shook him harder.

  “Eric, wake up, it's morning.”

  Eric rubbed his eyes. “Really? . . . I'm sorry, Annala, the books didn't have—”

  “I know.” Annala smiled again. “You were talking in your sleep.”

  “Oh . . .uh . . . ” Eric blushed and looked away. “Did I say anything else?” Annala shook her head. “Well, I know another way.”

  Hand in hand, they walked to the Dragon's Lair where Alf and Meg were still hanging from the doorway. Even unconscious, they tried to out snore each other. Eric parted their dangling feet like jungle vines and guided Annala inside.

  Mia was missing. For the first time, Eric saw the front desk without its perky receptionist. This worried him. Then he saw mercenaries squeezed under the common table and dived for it just as a dozen cardboard boxes flew out of nowhere. His huddled fellows said Basilard was downstairs and he crawled out with Annala.

  In the Training Hall, Tiza practiced a new battle dance and Nolien treated a platypus' broken tail. When the fighter saw the couple, she paused for a bout of teasing. Both human and elf blushed and let go of the other's hand. Tiza chuckled and Nolien jerked in such a way that the Platypus complained. Basilard sent her a warning glance and she continued practicing.

  “Eric, where—”

  “Daylra.” Eric interrupted. Basilard was so surprised he let him finish. “If a glove has a sealing rune on the inside, can it be removed?”

  “Of course,” Basilard replied. “What made you think otherwise?”

  The silence in Eric's head was so profound it was audible.

  Basilard explained that Motsuc the Customizer could remove any rune easily. It was simple, quick, and cheap, but he didn't have time for it: Team Four had a mission. Eric looked to Annala with trepidation. For her own sake, she needed to get those things off as soon as possible. True healing couldn't begin if she was still shackled to the incident.

  “You can have my cut of the fee and you don't have to train me until after the next mission. I'll study from the text instead.”

  “Not so fast, Novice Eric. You ditched once before and now you're going to a second time?”

  “Oh come on! I was rescuing Princess Kasile! Doesn't that count as an excused absence?”

  Basilard placed a hand on his hilt. “Aaloon will have a fit if he gets another report that's one mage short. Captain Quando will have to take action. Leader Ridley will be notified. If you don't want to do a mission, that's fine, but you need to notify Mia in advance so she can find someone to fill in.”

  Annala averted her eyes and said, “It . . . it's all right, Eric. I . . . I can wait.”

  Eric took hold of her chin to make her look him in the eyes. “No, I'll worry about you. I won't be able to concentrate.” Still holding her chin, he turned to Basilard. “I'll catch up with you.”

  “The mission is Across the Sea. They've asked for escorts and battle mages will be needed.”

  “What about you!?” He dropped his hand and made a fist. “You sleep! Or read your smut!”

  “Adventure novel for adults,” Basilard corrected. “Besides, I'm not all-powerful. Remember our last escort mission?”

  The memories rushed forward: dying screams, cave walls shaking, hot breath on his neck, Aio's dying words. “Without you, this team wouldn't exist.”

  “Eric, I-I can get there o-on my own,” Annala gulped. “I can, believe me.”

  Eric was torn.

  On one hand, Annala needed him. She was scarred. Her magic was sealed. There were muggers and lunatics, and worst of all, other rapists. They might know the command for the runes. It was a long shot, but it was possible and that's what mattered.

  On the other hand, his team needed him. He'd read about sea monsters and they were more dangerous than their land counterparts. They could attack without revealing themselves and their prey had nowhere to run. His team could lose their lives. They were more likely to need his help. Then he noticed Annala fidgeting. She tugged on the pointed end of her ear. Her other hand twitched.

  Fear! Protect!

  “Daylra, I'd like to hire Team Four.”

  “Really?” Basilard asked, and a corner of his mouth quirked. “What might the mission be?”

  “Escorting Ms. Annala Enaz to Motsuc's Customization shop. Your fee will be forty gold coins. The mission will begin right now.”

  “No, it won't because I'm not accepting it and they are busy training.”

  “What? Why!?”

  “I don't have to give a reason. I don't like it so I'm not doing it.”

  “Then you'll have to go without me, Daylra. Come on, Annala.”

  “Eric, you are on thin ice. Ditching a mission twice is a serio
us offense. If you leave now, it will be grounds for termination.” Annala gasped and raised her gloved hands to her lips.

  Eric shrugged and pulled out his badge. “If you really want it you can have it.”

  “Eric!” Annals shouted, then turned to Basilard. “He doesn't mean that!” she said urgently. “He's just worried about me!”

  “Why is he so worried, Ms. Enaz?”

  “Because . . .” Annala trailed off and averted her gaze. “Because . . .” She looked to Eric.

  “Because I killed Tahart, Daylra.” Nolien whirled with such force his patient shouted in pain. “I killed him because he tried to rape Annala.” Tiza paused her shadowing boxing.

  “Eric, we need to talk.”

  “I know! I killed a wealthy client who gave easy missions! But I don't regret it! So punish me and get it over with!”

  Silence fell in the training hall. No one moved or said a word.

  Conflict raced in Nolien's mind. For once, his emotions were easy to read: shock, confusion, disgust. Tiza was unabashedly impressed. Her emotions were always easy to read: surprise, respect, admiration. The platypus patient, for a third point of view, had a wide smile on his face and his eyes darted from one human to the next. Only one emotion showed on his face: This is better than cable!

  At last Basilard spoke. “Who said I was going to punish you?”

  “You're not?” Eric asked in confusion.

  “You're not?” Nolien repeated.

  Basilard fingered his hilt. “Eric, do you know why our guild is called 'The Dragon's Lair'?”

  “Isn't that a long story?”

  “Yes, but I'll make it as short as I can. Now's as good a time as any.”

  The Mother Dragon lived in a time of prolonged war. There was a lot of killing and a lot of orphans. She found these children of war and raised them as her own. However, she knew they couldn't stay on her apron strings forever. They had to support themselves, but she didn't want to split them up. She decided on a guild of mercenaries: good fighters would fight, good mages would cast, any who were literate could record—

  “Uh . . .This is very interesting . . . but . . . ” Eric interrupted. “Do you have a point in here somewhere?”

  “Getting to it!” Basilard snapped. “Anyway . . . let's see . . .where was I? Oh yes . . .”

  The Founder was protective of her children. They joked that she was a dragon guarding treasure. That is how she became known as the Mother Dragon. Everyone has their own lair and inside is their greatest treasure. It could be as selfish as one's own life or as noble as the life of a friend.

  Basilard drew the sword at his side and gently swung it back and forth. It sang.

  “This is BloodDrinker. It was created by the founder of my clan and has been passed down from chief to chief ever since. Not only that, it carries the accumulated power of every bearer since the founder. It is the Bladi Clan's legacy. To us it is worth more than all the gold in Tariatla.”

  He returned the sword to its sheath. “In Laharg's lair is his pride as an orc and his partner Maliz; he would never betray either of them. If I looked into your lair, I imagine I'd see Ms. Enaz.”

  Annala blushed to the roots of her hair and hid her face with her hands. Eric blushed just hard and insisted his concern was as a friend. Tiza chuckled and Eric face-palmed. I'll never hear the end of this! She might change his nickname from “Dimwit” to “Loverboy.”

  “Eric, my point is that you discovered something about yourself. Tahart offered you hush money didn't he? And despite being a 'sell staff,' you refused it. There is no such thing as a 'true mercenary.' The person who will do absolutely anything for the right price does not exist.”

  Eric's shuddered with relief. He had been offered a bribe to ignore Tahart and he had given Annala pricey loot. He could have made a lot of gold, but his friend was more important.

  “Don't get me wrong. There are people in this guild that would have taken Tahart's offer. Romanticized views of us annoy me. There was this one guy that—” Basilard chuckled. “Tried out because . . .” More chuckles. “ . . .Heroes for Hahaha!” He was unable to continue due to intense laughter.

  When he recovered, he instructed Tiza and Nolien to continue, then waved Eric and Annala to the surface. As soon as Mia saw Annala's pendant she fell in love with it and demanded to know where she got it. Annala proudly said it was a gift. Eric blushed and scratched the back of his neck. They introduced themselves and exchanged scry numbers. Then they talked about shoes and Eric was lost.

  “Don't worry, we have time to kill.”

  “I thought no one liked waiting for escorts.”

  “That's true, but the restaurant isn't open yet.”

  “Did you just say 'restaurant'?”

  Basilard replied with mock innocence. “You haven't heard of it? There's a restaurant a block from the bridge called 'Across the Sea.' It sells exotic food and they call their waiters 'escorts' because it sounds adventurous. You really didn't know what I was talking about?”

  Eric glared. “I thought my test concerned runes, not character.”

  The grin he'd been suppressing finally broke loose. “You'll have that one later.”

  Annala scowled. “So you're not crossing any seas and you're not really escorts.”

  “Exactly. Why else do you think we were in the Training Hall?”

  “Then why'd you threaten to fire me?”

  “I wouldn't, but Aaloon would. The old man will jump at any opportunity to see you suffer.”

  “Who?” Annala asked.

  “Aaloon,” Eric said wearily. “A nutcase in Archives that thinks I'm a scroll thief.”

  “Don't worry,” Mia said brightly. “The guildhead has the final say in the dismissal of members. Leader Ridley, in her long tenure, has only done it once.”

  “Who was it?” Eric asked.

  “Ohh . . . what was his name?” Mia gave her head a few light pats. “Think, think, think.”

  “Mia, we came here to see Reywall,” Basilard said, his voice cold and his hand on his hilt. “Not to discuss guild history.” Mia gave him a knowing look and said Reywall was in his office.

  Which was to the right of the reception desk. Its door was emblazoned with a sign of a gavel and book and marked with a sign:

  Reywall Esne, Professional Advocate

  If you fight outside the Court, I'll fight for you inside it.

  Inside was a desk flanked by lockable filing cabinets. In front were two chairs and behind were two sapients: a human and an owl. The owl was looking into a crystal ball and the human had its head stuck in one of the cabinets. Let me guess . . .

  “Hey, Reywall. What's up?”

  The owl didn't look up from his crystal. “Hopefully a good deal on that new Sam Drive movie. You can get them cheap on Cmarket but someone always outbids me at the last second.”

  Basilard leaned on the desk. “I've got an interesting case; wanna hear it?”

  “Does it involve Hasina?” Reywall asked with dread.

  “No.”

  “Good, because that woman is fu—”

  “Eric Watley . . . I'd like you to meet Reywall Esne, the guild's advocate.”

  The owl finally looked away from his computer. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Watley.” He flew to Eric, hovered in midair, and offered a claw.

  “The pleasure's all mine . . .” Eric awkwardly shook the claw. I don't think I'll ever get used to this. “So you work solely for the Dragon's Lair?”

  “I don't have time for anyone else—kidding! Seriously, I do make a living defending the members of this guild. Usually it's Hasina or one of the other captains, so a young thing like yourself is a refreshing change of pace. What kind of trouble are you in?”

  Eric told his side: from first seeing Annala in Tahart's apartment to leaving with Annala. Then Annala told her side, from how she was hired to leaving with Eric.

  “I see . . . Hmm . . .I don't believe this will be a problem.”

  “Really!?”
two voices chorused.

  The owl counted off pinion feathers. “With both of your testimony, the witnesses who saw your wind-powered dash, the physical evidence of the pictures, gloves, socks and collar, it'll be a breeze. Sound-proof runes have been tamper-proof since the Magical Privacy Act of 1548, and as you are an Otherworlder, we can say the Founder of Practical Jokes tampered with them. The 'Trickster made me do it' defense will work wonders.”

  Reywall flapped to his computer and calculated. “Not only will I get Mr. Watley acquitted of all charges, I'll get Ms. Enaz compensated for her suffering—with a cut for myself, of course.”

  Accessing Ataidar's branch of the Justice Station website he scheduled a meeting and continued, “Sam, drop everything! We have a new case!” he said with a wave of his wing. “One that doesn't involve any of the guild's lunatics!”

  Sam was so excited, his scream of joy made the cabinet vibrate. Then he yanked his head out, jumped over the desk, and shook hands with Eric, Annala, and Basilard for good measure; thanking them for freeing him from the case of experimental cough drops.

  I guess the hospital took action after all. Sam accepted the camera from Annala and danced out of the room, singing her praises. She and Eric sweat dropped.

  “Rest assured he is skilled in Advocate Martial Arts—kidding! Seriously, I don't think you'll need to appear in court. The judge will see this evidence and your written testimony, say 'it was self-defense; Statutory Provision.' BANG!” Reywall imitated swinging a judge's mallet. “And that will be it.”

  “What about the gloves and all?” Annala asked. “Can I take them off?”

  “I'd rather you didn't so the judge can see, but if you really want to . . .” He shrugged.

  “It will have to wait until after the mission,” Basilard said. “Or we'll be late.”

  “But Daylra—”

  “Mr. Bladi,” Annala said. “I'd like to come with you, if that's all right. I need a new job and if they're hiring you, they may have a permanent opening.”

  Chapter 17 Summer Jobs

  There was indeed a restaurant called Across the Sea and they did serve exotic cuisine. The building itself was a conglomeration of foreign landmarks: the Dragon Tower of Anich stood next to the Many Headed Ox of Mahican; the Statue of Tasio's defiance in Rlawader mooned the Circles of Harmony in Liclis. Inside trinkets from these places hung, stood, and swayed in all directions. Eric stood beneath a Mithran branch on the stage.