The Gods' Games Volume 1 & 2: Graphic Edition (The Gods' Games Series)

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The Gods' Games Volume 1 & 2: Graphic Edition (The Gods' Games Series) Page 94

by Quil Carter


  Malagant chuckled and nodded. He took a few steps and glanced in to see the old crones and his brother arguing over a couple kippins. A few moments later Josiah had his bag in his hand and was walking out the door.

  “Oh, hello, brother. How did it go?” Josiah asked.

  “You bring evil here, Malagant Ahris!” one of the old ladies, Opil, said angrily. She pointed a withered finger at him. “He’s a smoke breather! You are both smoke breathers! The evils of Shol burn in your chests like fire! You bring evil to this town, smoke breather!”

  Malagant rolled his eyes and started walking away from the two identical shops. “Yes, we both are. Hear our wrath and cower before us… you old bats.”

  Josiah gasped at him and pushed him towards the stone street as he and Teal started laughing.

  “You laugh! You laugh but just wait! Evil stalks your heels! Black flames close in on you and those joined to you.”

  “Tell us something we don’t know,” Malagant called back to her as Josiah kept pushing him towards the street corner, away from the view of the crazy old ladies.

  When they were out of sight Josiah gave him a venomous glare. “You might think it’s funny, but now I need to deal with them when you leave.”

  Malagant scoffed and waved him off. “I’ve had enough misery in the last year. Let me have a bit of fun before I go back to sleeping in muddy ditches.”

  Josiah opened his mouth to retort but he closed it; he looked past Malagant to where Teal was. “He’ll find shelter, Teal. There are many dens, caves, and overhangs in the plains. There are even hot springs.”

  Malagant looked over to see Teal staring at the rain-soaked street, his face downcast and his shoulders slumped. Everything was setting Teal off, ever since he had woken up this morning. The first thing had been the bad weather, then the mention of the search party, and even Anagin asking them questions about Ben. They could manage for brief moments to snap Teal out of it and get a smile on his face, but it wasn’t for long. His thoughts always went back to Ben. Malagant wasn’t any different, but Teal had been strong for him when he was weak. Knowing he had to be strong for Teal gave him strength needed to push his emotions down.

  “I talked to Pontis,” Malagant said. He glanced down the tree-lined street he knew Ros’s house was on, but he wanted to go back to his house for a bit first. One thing at a time. “They’re already organizing search parties. We have thirteen elves right now in total,” Malagant said, hoping it would help lift Teal’s spirits. “We can drop this stuff off, grab some food for the day, and go to the guard tower to meet up with the others.”

  Teal looked up at him, his dark green eyes big. “Thirteen? Really?”

  Malagant gave him a nod; they started down the road leading away from the main area of Birch, and towards his home. “Three to each party, four to the flooded areas farther west. Pontis has maps, markers, all this fancy stuff to help us scour every inch of the plains. If we don’t find Ben there, we’ll head back to the canyons.”

  Malagant heard Teal take in a deep breath, and with an exhale he nodded but didn’t say anything back.

  Malagant watched as Teal’s hands clenched his pack straps. He looked so different dressed in town garb, not travelling clothes with his twin swords strapped to his back. He was wearing one of Malagant’s old doublets, a green one lined with gold with gold clasps down the front and leather-lined pockets. It had been his favourite doublet when he was a teenager so he had kept it hoping Josiah would one day mend it to fit him. Hibrids in all truths weren’t that much shorter than regular elves, a half a foot maybe, it was Teal’s build that had made his and Josiah’s clothing too loose. Malagant had almost smacked him right upside the head when he had woken up to Teal looking through his clothing dresser, wearing nothing but his skivs. Malagant could count every single notch in Teal’s spine and every rib. He was skin and bones, and in terrible health. Malagant had been angry at himself for not noticing it sooner; they had both been bundled in cloaks and jerkins for the last month. He hadn’t even realized how badly Teal had been looking after himself.

  He had already sold Teal out to his brother though, who had vowed on Kelakheva’s staff to nurse Teal back to health, at all costs. Josiah’s eyes had lit up at the chance; he had immediately taken a liking to Teal. Any elf with a nurturing bone in his body would have. The kid was a sore sight but he was also cute and easy on the eyes, and that was a dangerous but alluring combination to Josiah, who loved nursing cute things back to health.

  A rush of warm comforting air and baking bread filled Malagant’s nostrils as Josiah pushed the door open.

  They all walked inside to see Anagin sitting by the windowsill, with his cup of smoke tea and his book on his lap. It was the book he had written of his adventures with Cruz during the Black War and his life before and after. Malagant had grown up on the stories in that book, even if he’d never gotten a chance to read it himself.

  It was a book that Anagin kept in his locked drawer, only he was allowed to read from it. Malagant had always wondered what other stories were in that book, ones that his father would never let him read.

  Perhaps Anagin admitting how much he and Cruz had loved each other during the war was in there… though Malagant had a feeling that if it was, Anagin would’ve torn those parts out.

  “We’re going to have about thirteen,” Malagant said, walking over to the kitchen table. In the background Josiah was already starting to bottle the ingredients he had bought. “I’m supposed to talk to Ros, see if Kindell wants to go. Suana is getting her kids, Pontis can spare five. Together with Josiah, Teal and I, we’re hoping to cover a few leagues in every direction.”

  Anagin nodded in approval, but he looked distracted. He was sitting more rigid than usual, and he had his hand on his hip like it had been bothering him. Usually he only felt it in the evening. “Put a mage in each party, or one that can at least send a signal if you find him.”

  Malagant sat down on the other end of the table and took a drink of his father’s tea mug. The mug itself was older than he was, a ceramic mug with little silver foxes on it. Apparently an old friend of his had made it in Evercove. “Teal and I can communicate with the pendants. I’ll send him out with Pontis and one of the guards,” Malagant said, setting the cup down.

  “Teal will be staying with me,” Anagin said simply but firmly.

  “No, please, I… I want to go!” Teal’s desperate voice sounded behind him, before Malagant even had a chance to speak. “I’m well-enough. Please. I have to go.”

  Anagin glanced up at Malagant, though he spoke to Teal. “I need to discuss some things with you, Teal. Alone and in private.”

  Malagant cringed and looked over to Teal.

  Teal was giving Anagin a look of anxiety and fear. Everything around him was silent, even Josiah had paused in the middle of jarring some grey powder.

  “Okay,” Teal whispered, not making eye contact.

  Anagin nodded and picked his teacup up again. Malagant knew that was the end of the discussion but he felt a knot in his stomach. He had hoped that he had stressed enough to his father how unstable Teal was at the moment. He felt the urge to reiterate that to him, but he couldn’t do it with Teal right there. Instead he looked at his father and made it front and center in his head.

  His father’s amber eyes found his and he mouthed I know to him, then said out loud:

  “Trust me.”

  Teal did hear that and it only made his worried expression worse. Teal, without a word, turned around and started helping Josiah put away their ingredients. Malagant took another drink of his father’s tea and watched him as he read. The sound of corks being popped from jars and vials filled the air, and the fire crackling in the double-sided hearth. Malagant didn’t speak; he knew there was no need to. Anagin could hear him, as usual, and he trusted that he wouldn’t hurt Teal or damage him mentally… more than he already was. Malagant had to trust him.

  However from the way his father’s fingers dug into the
back of the book as he read… he wondered if his father trusted himself.

  After a quick lunch and a change of clothes, Malagant left a clingy Teal behind and headed back into the heart of the town. He didn’t want to leave his friend, he felt like he was abandoning him to the wolves in leaving him with Anagin; but once again he forced himself to trust his father. Anagin knew more about Throateater and what was going wrong in Teal’s head. That was his father’s specialty, head stuff, and Teal needed a head physician.

  As he and Josiah parted ways, heading down opposite streets, Malagant remembered back to the Serpents Teal had massacred and all the throats he had torn out on their journey thus far.

  Well, if anything, the creature inside of Teal sure knew how to name himself properly.

  At least his father will help Teal, cure him perhaps. Malagant wished Teal didn’t have to do it alone though, he was used to being with Teal through everything they encountered, Ben too. But Anagin had been close to Cruz, and Teal was Cruz’s son. He would take care of him, better than anyone would. He would help Teal.

  And I’ll help Teal by bringing our Ben home.

  Malagant pulled his cloak over his head, feeling his boots go from packed dirt to cobblestone.

  He glanced up, the streets were practically empty. The drizzle had turned into a rain shower, but the sun was still shining above them. They might even get a rainbow today with the sun beaming down.

  Around him he could hear the many sounds of the rain. Pittering on the rooftops, and draining off of the awnings onto the streets below. Holes were worn where the rain would fall, and mismatch brick could be seen from old and new repairs. The town was new when he had arrived, founded by Calin himself after the war. But now age was showing in the corners of the town. The tin roofs were rimmed with red rust, and the wood lightened from the elements. The fire trees, only saplings when they had first come to Birch, were tall and glorious now, displaying their crimson red leaves with pride, stretching out towards the sun as if showing them off to Anea himself. The black bark was still dark, though no longer all black, bits of moss and thin green vines twisted their way up most of the trees. The Lazarius Plains always had to leave their emerald mark, even pushing through the cracks in the cobblestone.

  As Malagant walked on, the memories came back to him. A deck with a rocking chair, which meant old Halin was still alive. On the other side of the street, a small wooden home with smoke billowing out of the chimney. A carved wooden soldier and a tin horse had been left out on the wood pile, which meant Jessen must be walking and talking now. The last time he had been in swaddling clothes, paraded around the square by his friends Gellert and Lendyn, who had just brought him home. Their chayling ceremony had lasted two days, Malagant only remembered the first day.

  The clouds opened up for a second. Malagant looked to the sky to see a few rays of sun stream down on the dreary town. It did nothing for the ache in his stomach as he approached Tiercel’s old house.

  Tiercel Starwren, his old friend. Even thinking of him now made Malagant’s throat tight.

  Malagant looked down at his feet as he made his way to Ros’s gate, soon his boots stepped onto soggy grass. In front of him was his friend’s house.

  Malagant looked up. The two-storey house was lit; he could see oil lamps in the window, and chimes and gems hanging down for the light to catch. Tiercel’s mother had always loved metal work, gem work, and things to keep her busy. After Tiercel was lost to them she seemed to go a bit overboard, but she ended up opening a shop to sell all the extras.

  Malagant’s throat tightened even more. In his head, he could see the elf, taller than he was by several inches, with short black hair, a trimmed beard on his chin and a moustache. Black Evercovian eyes, but flecked with red, from a Dashavian grandmother he had once said. He was a mutt, as they had called him. Sometimes they would sit him down and point out every race in Al’Anea they could see on him, down to having claws like a hibrid. Tiercel was a mangy mutt or best of all races as he had told them.

  Malagant looked at the door, a simple brown door, stained with mud and scratched from his old dog always wanting in and out. He could see Tiercel standing there, garbed in his new knight uniform, proud to fight for Alcove.

  Always with a kind word, and an outstretched hand. He had arrived a year before Malagant had gone off to become a knight, but it wasn’t until they were in Greybane that they had become close. There had been six of them: Kale the ladyelf from Azoria, Tiercel, Thierry, himself, and, of course, Duck and Goose the hibrid twins from the Malachite Isles.

  He missed his old friends. He missed Tiercel.

  Now Tiercel would look at me with cold regard, with a sword drawn and a sneer to his lips. He would know me, he would talk to me, but he wouldn’t be Tiercel. He would be the brainwashed monster the priests had created. Tiercel was dead… just a walking corpse now. All of them were… though most of them probably were dead. Rotted and gone by now.

  With a vice restricting his heart, Malagant turned and started walking away. He knew he had told Suana he would… but he couldn’t, not today.

  Malagant drew his cloak further over his head. It blocked out most of his vision, but he didn’t want to be recognized.

  Silently, but quickly, Malagant made his way to the guard tower. He hated himself for being a coward, but not enough to knock on that door. Ros would understand, and the weather was too cold and rainy for Kindell anyway. Tiercel’s younger brother was weak of body, always sick and suffering from shakes, being out on the plains in the rain and cold would be too much for him.

  With his legs moving to a small jog, Malagant sprinted down the street to the guard tower, holding his hand over his cloak hood to keep it on his head. He could see Josiah in front of him, almost at the tower. He was wearing a thick black cloak, which covered his entire body, but Malagant could tell it was him.

  “Jo,” Malagant called.

  Josiah turned around, he looked surprised. “I thought you were going to see Ros?”

  Malagant slowed down his pace until he was right beside his brother. “I couldn’t.”

  “I understand,” Josiah said gently. Malagant loved his brother for that. Josiah seemed to be able to read and understand him, even without their father’s seer abilities.

  They both walked into the guard tower. Malagant was immediately relieved to see it full of elves, most looking over a map as Pontis talked to them.

  He recognized a lot of faces and a lot of faces smiled when they saw him walk in.

  “Malagant. Excellent,” Pontis said. He picked through a few pieces of parchment and handed one of them to him.

  “You’re red. I have you, Daesy, and Fenton going southeast. It’s marked on your map, and the area I want you to explore is marked as well. These marks should take everyone here the next eight hours to scour, giving you enough time to make it back before nightfall,” the guard explained, sounding every bit an Greybane-trained knight. Malagant felt like he was back in training; he found his mind automatically falling back to his old ways.

  “Yes, sir.” Malagant nodded. He looked at everyone else and cleared his throat.

  “Ben is a hibrid of nineteen years,” Malagant began. “He has wavy black hair, streaked with dark blue. He has a look to him where he looks ill even when he’s healthy, dark circles, thin face, though chances are… he’s already sick. He has on a black travelling jerkin, trousers, and boots with silver clasps. He talks different and may use strange words. As soon as you spot him, the first thing you need to do is tell him Malagant and Teal are looking for him and you are from Birch. He will be wary of strangers. Does everyone have a way to signal?”

  Pontis nodded. He started handing out the pieces of parchment to the other elves. “The only non-mage team we have going out is Hegor, Gospree, and Drend, but they’ll be able to make a signalling fire.”

  Malagant glanced down at his paper, he felt his brother pat his shoulder in support. The paper was a map of the area, his team’s area marked in
red. It seemed too small, but Pontis was a perfectionist, he wanted everyone to look in every crevice and behind every rock. This made Malagant feel better, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to be everywhere at once. Never before did he wish he had a dragon or something to fly over the plains. He wanted Ben to come back to them so badly it hurt.

  This couldn’t all be in vain… he had to be alive.

  “Who-whoever finds him, well, the party that finds him. I’m putting up a reward of twenty gold covis.”

  Malagant was surprised to hear everyone in the room let out scoffs of annoyance and grunts.

  “We’re practically your kin, you stupid elf. Don’t insult us by trying to buy our help!” Gospree said annoyed.

  “You think we’re here for the coin? We’re here because we stick together and help each other,” Drend said, looking behind him for support. All the other elves nodded and murmured agreeance.

  Malagant smiled, swelling with pride. It was good to be home.

  After a few more pointers from Pontis, Malagant walked outside with Daesy, Suana’s adult daughter, and Fenton a young guard still green but strong-looking. Behind him Josiah was with Suana and Melesch who were taking the south direction near them; their colour was orange.

  “I’ll see you in the evening then,” Malagant said quietly, trying to shake the feeling of dread and foreboding. It was harder to stay positive when Teal wasn’t around to keep him on it. His thoughts were just as dark as his were.

  “We’ll find him, brother.” Josiah gave him a reassuring smile, his blue eyes soft and caring.

  He seemed genuine, like he actually does think we will find him. Why does he have hope, when mine was dripping away from me like the rains around us? Where was my hope? I think I lost mine years ago, when I stopped seeing my reflections in my fellow knights’ eyes one by one.

  “It-it’s been weeks, Josiah.” Malagant didn’t even recognize his voice; it sounded hollow and hopeless. “You saw what those weeks did to my hands. The bridge… it was such a long ways down. He doesn’t have his cloak… he’s–” Malagant glanced at the others trailing behind them. “He’s not from here, Jos. He’s learned fast, but… he’s still…”

 

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