Still, holding onto the formula was the best idea. He knew the moment he told them how to create the potions, they’d beat him to death with a bag full of bricks. At least, that was the worst case scenario. The best case scenario was that they’d walk off with his proprietary blend, leaving him without the profits and Fredlin would rather be dead than poor again.
As he began to work on creating a new batch, the door to his prison slightly opened and a head popped in. It was Gregory, the man responsible for giving Fredlin supplies and motivating the wizard through a series of highly inspirational beatings.
“Hey, your special order finally came in,” Gregory grunted. “Where do you want it?”
Fredlin smiled at the news. “Over here, I can actually use it right now,” he replied. He stood from his seat and motioned to the table.
“Okay,” Gregory said as he kicked the door open with his leg. He was carrying a large crate containing an order of supplies that Fredlin had been quite insistent that he needed in order to create a stronger variety of potions. The man walked over and placed the box on the table. “What’s in here, anyway?”
“I’ll show you, if you’re curious,” Fredlin said. Gregory nodded. It was painfully obvious that Gregory had been trying to spy on Fredlin in the last few days, as if he would be able to gather enough information to make the potions himself. No doubt his masters would be very pleased at that.
Fredlin opened the crate containing tiny yellow crystals. “This should increase the potency quite a bit,” Fredlin said as he ground the crystals up and gathered a few elements from his work table together. He carefully blended them into a single beaker. Gregory was standing right behind him, watching with an irritating intensity. Fredlin could feel the man’s hot breath on his neck.
“So, this, when combined with the crushed up crystal, will cause a catalytic reaction,” Fredlin said. “Do you know what that means?”
“No,” Gregory said.
“It means that the potency will increase tenfold,” Fredlin said. He carefully poured clear alcohol into the blended beaker. As he had theorized, the chemicals all began to bubble and fizz, turning the solution pitch black. Fredlin held it up high. “Do me a favor and grab my notes on the bed, will you?” He asked.
Gregory complied, walked over to the bed and looked down. “I don’t see anything.”
Fredlin shook the compound vigorously, causing the bubbles to increase even more. “Here, catch!” he shouted. Gregory turned around in time as Fredlin threw the beaker to Gregory. The man was swift, however, and caught it with ease.
“You really think that would work?” he asked, holding the violently bubbling container up. “What is this some kind of acid?”
“One of my alchemist colleagues called it Cratermaker.”
“The hell kind of name is – “ Gregory’s words were interrupted as the vial of highly explosion formula erupted into a ball of fire, creating not only a crater where Gregory had been, but as a gigantic hole in the side of the wall, where the sunlight poured in.
Fredlin chuckled to himself as he grabbed a few of the stamina and speed crystals from the crate. A whole guild full of a thieves and not a single alchemist to double check his supply orders. Shame on them.
Chapter 33:
The glove felt a little too tight, almost painfully so. But Cimir did not mind the sensation, because it meant that he finally had feeling back into his hands again. He was sitting upright, at the dinner table in the safehouse, working diligently to grab a fork off the table. Lady Mira and Prestin were gone, having needed to attend to their own affairs. Elias had given the order to return to their posts. Erice had been the only one to watch after Cimir, but he mostly just instructed her to keep up with her magical practices. The poison had just about left his system and he was able to do most activities, although the simplest of task required heavy concentration.
As he worked to eat his simple meal, a banging came on the front door. “Cimir!” Samuel’s voice shouted. “It’s me, let me in.”
Cimir stretched his hand out and focused, willing the door’s lock to slide, but nothing happened. He sighed and instead set about the slow and miserable task of getting to his feet and opening the door manually.
“Hang on, I’m coming,” Cimir said. After a few minutes of work, he was able to get the lock open. He slightly pulled the door ajar to see the face of his old friend. For a moment, he felt a sensation of happiness, to see his best friend after all these weeks, but remembered the anger between them. There was little doubt the purpose of this visit was for anything but business.
“Let me in,” Samuel said. “I think some guys were following me.”
Cimir limped aside, allowing for the man to enter. Samuel hurried inside. He was quick to slam the door shut and bolt it back up.
“So, this is where you’ve been holed up?” Samuel asked as he inspected the modest interior. The safehouse’s first floor was a large room, with a table, some cooking supplies and two chairs. There was little else. “I figured you’d pick somewhere that at least had some books.”
“Well, this wasn’t my first pick, Samuel,” Cimir said as he limped over to the chair and sat down. Standing was rather exhausting.
“I heard that you were poisoned. I wish I could have come by sooner, but there’s been a lot going on,” Samuel said, sitting in the chair across from Cimir.
“What do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Cimir asked.
Samuel’s expression was grim. “I need to know what happened to Freckles and Charles. Elias has been tight lipped about it. I fairly positive you know the truth. Someone killed the pair of them, and I’m concerned.”
Cimir shrugged at that. At first, he would play it cool, to gauge Samuel’s reaction. “Why are you worried?”
“Elias used me to send a message to the two. He wanted them to go to a tavern and meet with some business prospect. Then they both end up dead in the river the next morning. He claims it was just a coincidence, but I’m not an idiot.”
“You chose to leave the inner circle,” Cimir replied. “I don’t see a reason why that should change now.”
“I just need to know if my people are going to be safe. If Elias has gotten us into some kind of trouble, I’d prefer a heads up, so we can double security in the business ventures I’m running.”
Cimir said nothing. Samuel did deserve to know the truth, but it would certainly upset the man. Perhaps enough so to spur him to make a dangerous decision without thinking of the consequences. If Samuel had been wringing his hands at the execution of a murderous man who was actively aiding the enemies of Glimmer, what would he say to the blood sacrifice?
“You know the truth,” Samuel said, shaking his head. “I can see it in your eyes. You’ve got no capacity for hiding things from me, you know that?”
“I’m sorry, but I think you’d be better off not knowing,” Cimir said. “I can assure you that everyone is safe now.”
“Now being the keyword,” Samuel replied. “But we weren’t at some point. Was it the guys who attacked our headquarters? Did they come after us again?”
Cimir merely said nothing. He hung his head low, avoiding eye contact with the man.
“You owe the truth to me,” Samuel said, slamming his fist on the table.
“I don’t owe you a thing,” Cimir replied. Despite the anger of his colleague, Cimir didn’t feel any sense of frustration with the man. Rather, he felt a pang of guilt. This was the first time they had spoken to one another since the Prax incident. He didn’t want the conversation to be yet another fight.
“You know full well that you do,” Samuel said. “But if you don’t want to give me any answers, that’s fine. I’ll figure this out on my own.” He stood to his feet and began to walk towards the door.
“Wait,” Cimir said. “Samuel, I don’t want to fight with you. But I need you to believe me when I say that what actually happened is far more unpleasant than you could handle.”
Samuel turned around. �
��I said I wanted to be out of the loop, so I could work with a clean conscience. Not because I’m too much of a bitch to deal with the truth. Something big went down and I need to know. If you can’t tell me that, well, I guess you’re really just leaving me out on my own here.”
Cimir let out a long sigh. Against his better judgement, perhaps as a way to make amends with Samuel, he shared the whole of the story. Every last detail. Of course, he also emphasized the danger that everyone had been in, highlighting that Sali of all people would have certainly been murdered. Maybe that would help soften the blow.
Samuel listened intently. He seemed to take it all in stride, although Cimir could see the distress on the man’s face. “So, this Thieves Guild,” Samuel asked, “are you going to kill them all?”
Cimir chuckled at that. “What makes you ask that?”
“Because I know you well enough, Cimir,” Samuel said. “Elias might just let those assholes push us around, but not you.”
“I’ve been studying rituals, ways to chain magic together,” Cimir replied, gesturing to the stairs. “I can show you my notes, if you’d like.”
“Yeah, like I’d understand what anything you wrote meant,” Samuel said. He rubbed his chin as he pondered the situation at hand. “Did you agree with Elias’ actions?”
“It was an unfortunate situation,” Cimir replied. “But…no. Not in the least. I’d rather die fighting than give in to cowardice.”
Samuel slowly nodded. “Loyal to the end, eh?”
“We don’t betray our own,” Cimir said. “Ever.” He paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “I was wrong, you know.”
“Don’t, don’t start about our friendship now,” Samuel said. “It’s not the right time.”
“No, it is!” Cimir insisted. “Listen, we’re different men. We come from different worlds and we have incredibly different philosophies, but I should have respected you. I could have simply killed Prax in secret, with a spell when he was long out of your mind. But I chose not to, because you deserved to know where I stood.”
Samuel laughed a little at that. “So what? I should be grateful that you respect me enough to murder a guy in front of me rather than in secret?”
Cimir shrugged. “No, of course not. I just… I regret how I acted.”
“Is this an apology?” Samuel asked. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.
Cimir looked at the table and sighed. “Yes. I’m sorry, Samuel. I wronged you and for that I am sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” Samuel said. “Sorry that I couldn’t be enough of a bastard to run the show. But look at Elias. You become too much of a bastard and you end up sending your own people as blood sacrifices.”
There was truth in those words. “Can we move forward?” Cimir asked. “Can we go back to the way things were? I want to keep this operation going, but it’s clear Elias isn’t fit for the job.”
“You want to replace the boss man?” Samuel asked, laughing a little.
“He’s not our boss, he’s a partner. And one that we can’t trust,” Cimir replied. “He needs to go.”
Samuel shook his head. “You want to kill him?”
“Among other people,” Cimir said. “I am devising a method to eliminate the Thieves Guild in one shot. An entire organization dead within seconds of casting the spell.”
“That’s awful cruel,” Samuel said. “They can’t all be evil.”
“I don’t particularly care about their moral compass. They are predators, pure and simple. They mistook us for prey,” Cimir said. “We have to show them and the rest of Glimmer that we are not prey.”
Samuel said nothing. He looked worn and defeated. “You know, I had tea with Freckles when I gave her the message. She was perfectly pleasant, a real nice woman. We sat and chatted, she shared some stories with me, mostly about her stint in the hospital. I kinda got the impression she might have liked me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cimir said.
“And now she’s dead,” Samuel continued. “All because two groups of people can’t play nice with each other. If you want to kill every last one of these guys, I won’t argue with you. I’ve got other things to worry about. Why cry about some murderers and thieves when I’ll build orphanages over their ruins?”
“That’s a practical way of looking at it,” Cimir said. “So you vote yes?”
“I told you, I’m not voting on these things,” Samuel said.
“What about replacing Elias?” Cimir asked. He tapped his fingers impatiently.
“Maybe to replacing him, hell no to killing him,” Samuel said. “He didn’t have much of a choice.”
“But he still had two options,” Cimir insisted. “He picked the one that would save his life.”
“And coincidentally, every last one of our lives too,” Samuel said. “I couldn’t say that I would have made a different decision. I suggest you spare him. For now.”
Cimir laughed at that. “You suggest? Why not just demand that I don’t?”
“I don’t like the guy that much,” Samuel replied. “Besides, you’ll do what you think is best. And in time, you’ll see it’s better to let him live. He wasn’t malicious towards his own.”
“Intent doesn’t change results,” Cimir said.
“Yeah, but it does determine our mercies,” Samuel replied. “Because things rarely, if ever, go as intended.”
Cimir said nothing but took the point and considered it. “Fine, I’ll think about it. But if I do remove him from power…what then?”
“We put out a help wanted sign on the front of Koli’s shop,” Samuel said. He took out a pad of paper. “Give me a list of books you need from your workshop. I’ll bring them here.”
Cimir nodded and began to give a list of all the books he was sorely lacking. After that, the two shared the rest of the evening together, talking, catching up and sharing their unique visions for the future. It was just like old times, and for a brief moment, Cimir forgot all about the hundreds of wolves within the city, waiting for the chance to pounce upon their prey.
Elias watched with mild curiosity as Krissaw, the Snake Ambassador, ate his dinner. The towering, green monster-man did not need to sit on a chair, rather he was comfortable resting upright on his tail, digging into the pile of meat with both hands, eating ravenously.
“Your meats are quite delectable,” Krissaw said. “Such flavorings. The East Mion harbors no affinity for spices and herbs like these.”
“I’m glad you are taking a liking to our cuisine,” Elias replied. He looked down at the prime rib on his own plate. He didn’t feel hungry, but not on the account of his guest. Watching Krissaw eat was more interesting than disgusting. No, Elias’ loss of appetite came from the gift basket he had received that morning. Left on his doorstep, the basket had contained several bars of solid gold, two bottles of fine wine and a note of thanks from the Thieves Guild. As if the small payment had been the reason why Elias had sent those two to their deaths.
“I smell your sadness,” Krissaw said. “Why are you in pain?”
Elias looked up at the snake man. “Excuse me?”
“Humans emit many interesting odors, easy to detect in my race. Your emotions ooze from you,” Krissaw replied as he tore another hunk of meat off of the rib bone and threw it into his mouth, gnashing on it violently.
There was no harm in speaking to this stranger, perhaps a foreigner’s perspective would help Elias process his feelings. “I recently was forced to make a difficult decision. People died because of me, but if I didn’t act, even more would be dead.”
“And you did not wish them dead?” Krissaw asked. He stopped gorging himself and turned his attention to Elias.
“No, not at all. They…well, they weren’t my friends but still. They worked for me.”
“They will return, as all do. When death comes, they are spirited away and brought to a great sieve. Their souls will pour into the sieve, back onto this land. Their impurities and failures torn from them, they
reincarnate with greater souls. Stronger souls,” Krissaw said. “Death is not to regret. We always come back, greater than before.”
“I was raised to believe we went to the afterlife,” Elias replied. “Somewhere safe and warm, where our gods would look after us.”
Krissaw laughed at that. “That is an option, yes. But why waste your life away by passing on? No, return! Return and be greater still! That is best for all of us.”
There was little else Elias could say to that. It was an interesting take, but he was unsure about the validity of this belief.
Theft, Murder, and Crystals Page 32