by S. M. Boyce
“No. I’m starting to enjoy your reaction,” he said, examining his cuticles. Faster than she could complain, he disappeared.
That damn ghost.
The adrenaline fading, she once again surveyed the dark tunnel. Ears straining for any sign of the slithering entity, she heard only the steady drip of water hitting the floor somewhere close by. Her body lit up with nerves, and she didn't fully understand why. Whatever it was, whatever had just passed, she knew in her gut it was bad news.
“Victoria, let's go,” Fyrn said sharply, his voice echoing a bit.
She jogged over to him. “I saw something slither by.”
“Not surprising. That's why you need to stay close. Lots of things live down here. These monsters keep everyone else away, which makes this a prime place for you to train safely.” He continued walking down the tunnel toward his cabin, and Victoria spent most of the trek looking over her shoulder.
The dread that clung to her didn’t make sense. She didn’t care what Fyrn said; whatever that thing had been, it was more than just another animal living in the tunnels. Every fiber of her being told her that she never, ever wanted to see it again.
***
Victoria sat on her bed, staring at the ceiling as night fell outside. She couldn't shake the image of the slithering tail, and the more she thought about it, the more she panicked. She did her best to alleviate the anxiety with lots of deep breaths, but it only got worse.
“Chill the hell out,” Audrey said from her spot by the window. “You're starting to freak me out, and I don't even know what you’re upset about.”
Victoria rubbed her face. “I was trying to be subtle. Is it that bad?”
Audrey laughed. “You only sigh this much when something's wrong. You're as transparent as glass.”
Victoria blew a raspberry. “I saw something in the tunnels. Something bad.”
Audrey sat on Victoria's bed, frowning. “What was it?”
Victoria shook her head. “That's the problem. I'm not sure yet.”
“What if—”
The stairs creaked heavily, sighing and cracking under the weight of someone rather large. Bertha, probably.
Sure enough, a few seconds later Bertha opened the door with a smile and a handful of crystals. “Audrey, you've been doing so well that I wanted to give you a little something so you two could buy yourselves something nice. It’s good to treat yourself to the finer things on occasion.”
Victoria smiled. “Thank you, Bertha.”
“You're very kind,” Audrey said, giving her mentor a hug as she retrieved the denni. Victoria grabbed the pouch her parents had given her out of Audrey's bag and set it on the bed. She untied the string and opened it for Audrey to slide them inside, exposing the contents to Bertha in the process.
Before Audrey could add the new crystals, the ogre seemed to choke, eyes wide as she stared at the bag. “Good heavens, little humans, why are you working for me?”
Victoria’s gaze shifted between the ogre and the money. “Is it a lot?”
“I—is it—yes!”
“Oh, sorry. We didn't know,” Audrey set Bertha's payment back in her massive hand.
“Why are you running around with that much money in a backpack?” Bertha snapped.
“Bertha, we don't understand the value of your currency yet,” Victoria said.
Audrey shrugged. “I've been starting to get a feel for what prices are on food, but that's about it. Think about it. We haven’t even bought our own clothes yet. We’re still wearing what your friend made us. We didn’t know how far this bag would take us in terms of housing, clothing, and everything else we need. We also didn’t know how long you would let us stay here. Besides, what is there, a bank we could put this in?”
“Yes!” Bertha shouted.
“Oh,” Victoria and Audrey said in unison.
Bertha set the money in Audrey's palm and clicked her tongue in disapproval when she tried to protest. The great big ogre lifted a massive finger and waved it in her face. “First thing tomorrow, we're going to the bank. I'll teach you how to be proper citizens of Fairhaven yet!”
***
Victoria wouldn’t make her training with Fyrn today. She had tried to sneak out in the morning, but Bertha had awakened early, likely to stop Victoria from bailing on the bank visit. No amount of protest had worked on the ogre, who said she would lose her mind if all that denni remained upstairs in her guest room. It apparently made them a target for bandits or even murderers, and Bertha wasn't having it. To top it all off, she demanded they buy a proper wardrobe and—gag—a gown or two while they were out. Out of respect for her host, Victoria obeyed. At least Bertha had sent a cryptic message via a mail clerk to let Fyrn know Victoria would be unavailable, so he wouldn’t wonder.
Skipping practice to bank and shop. Fyrn wouldn’t like it, but Victoria had to admit that a moment or two of relaxation sounded nice.
Bertha led the way through Fairhaven’s streets, Victoria and Audrey in tow. This was a section of town they hadn’t seen before, filled with ornate red and black buildings that towered far overhead. The bricks pulsated with a pale glow, and immense stained-glass windows let in light.
“Ah, this is it,” Bertha said, gesturing to a tall silver building. “The only bank worth using.”
They entered to find a massive main hall with a central crystal chandelier as large as an RV. Aside from the three of them, there was no one in the building.
“I guess others don’t find it as wonderful as you,” Audrey said.
Bertha lightly smacked Audrey on the back of the head. “Hush. There are magical protections in place so that no one knows who enters and who leaves. It allows you to protect your valuables and wealth.”
Victoria grinned. “Nifty.”
Two footprints glowed on the floor. Underneath, a row of symbols kept changing, fading in and out until finally they said, “Stand here.”
“Which of you has the pouch?” Bertha asked.
“Me,” Victoria said with a gentle wave of her hand, the pouch in her palm.
“You first, then,” Bertha said.
Victoria set her feet on the moss-green footprints, her size-eight shoes dwarfed by the massive outline that told her where to stand. She waited, expecting something to happen, but nothing did. Confused, she peeked over her shoulder to ask Bertha what else to do.
No one was there.
In the blink of an eye, the brilliant white foyer faded to black. One by one, pinpricks of green light appeared in the darkness, surrounding her until a gentle light revealed that she was now in a small room, perhaps ten feet by ten feet at the most. She bit back her panic, not altogether happy with the idea of being transported somewhere without her knowledge or permission, but she gritted her teeth and stood a little taller to make herself feel braver.
A glowing handprint appeared in front of her, easily four times the size of hers.
“Verify your identity,” a woman's voice said. It was as beautiful and melodic as a song, and Victoria was momentarily mesmerized by the mere sound of it.
It took a moment for her to regain her composure. “How?”
“Set your palm against the handprint,” the voice said.
Well, Victoria was already in it this far. She might as well go all in. With a shrug, she obeyed.
“Hmmm,” the voice said.
The handprint disappeared. Behind the wall, several gears clunked and ground against each other. The heavy rush of wood sliding over metal, muffled by the wall, suggested something would burst through any minute. Victoria waited, not altogether certain she would like whatever happened next.
Where the handprint had been, a silver door appeared. It slid open, and a wooden treasure chest came through. It rotated, as if handled by invisible hands, and the top popped open.
The chest was filled to the brim with crystals. Large and small, there were more than she could count. If Bertha thought the pouch had been full of riches, she would probably lose her shit ju
st from looking at this trunk.
“I think this must be a mistake,” Victoria said to the mysterious woman helping her.
“You are listed as an accessor of the account for Michael and Alison Brie. Do you know these humans?”
“Yes,” she said softly, staring at the chest in bewilderment.
“Then there is no mistake. You have four more chests available to you. Would you like to see them?”
“Fuck, yes,” she said, grinning.
More muffled clinks and whirs bled through the wall. Victoria waited, her smile broadening with every second. Sure enough, the four chests slid out of the wall and opened for her. Aside from a blank journal, a diamond amulet, and two more empty pouches, every chest was filled with crystals.
Victoria set her hands on her head, speechless as she stared at the chests. Holy shit. Rich in both worlds.
She emptied about half of what she had brought with her into one of the chests, but her smile began to fade as the crystals clinked against each other. Her parents had hidden so much. They had lied to her, blackmailed wizards, and lived secret lives.
Did she really know them?
A knot formed again her throat, and she didn't try to push it back. She desperately wanted to cry. Grief would be welcome at this point, but every time she tried the delve into her sorrow, her fearsome anger bubbled forth instead. She grimaced at the surge of hatred for Luak, glaring at the nearest chest without even seeing it.
Her mother and father had always cared for her and loved her. Whatever mistakes they had made in life, they had not deserved to die the way they did.
She grabbed her much lighter pouch and tucked the diamond amulet inside. With her anger fresh and hot once more, she was determined not to spend the entire day shopping. This afternoon she would once more stand in the training cave so that she could continue to learn to defeat Luak. The elvish bastard would pay with his life for what he had done to her, and now Victoria had the riches of a small country to help her beat him.
He didn't stand a chance.
Chapter 24
It only took twelve hours to buy a new house.
Alone in the massive dwelling, Audrey threw a jab at a handmade punching bag in the basement gym. She now shared a four-story townhouse with Victoria in what Bertha assured them was Fairhaven's safest district. She couldn't lie—she had been impressed that they were able to close on a house so quickly. It helped that Bertha seemed to know everyone and had a few favors to cash in, and it probably hadn’t hurt that Victoria now had the wealth of an oil baron. Jingling crystals had exchanged hands, and before much time had passed she and Victoria had been given keys.
Audrey paused, wiping the sweat from her forehead as she took a quick break. At least her bestie was sharing the wealth.
The first game of the Berserk season was coming up, so Edgar had helped her set up the makeshift gym in the basement. They would add more equipment soon. In fact, the entire Berserk team might come over and do their weight training here if she decked it out enough, and the thought made her happy. It didn’t offer much in the way of natural lighting, though, so she would need to find some gas lamps or candles for her nighttime workouts. For now, thin rays of light poured through the small windows that ran along the walls close to the ceiling. There wasn't much in the house yet, and even her little punching bag had been handmade with some sawdust and a feed satchel she had borrowed from Bertha. But now that she didn't have to work, she needed to occupy herself somehow.
Thus, she would practice until she couldn’t hold her arms up anymore.
A bit of her energy back now, Audrey threw a cross, and her homemade punching bag sailed backward on the metal chain that suspended it from a support beam. She coiled her body as she launched a roundhouse kick, and her ankle smacked against the bag, knocking it backward once again.
Bertha had promised more sword training later, and if Audrey learned that skill, they would also practice with daggers. Hell, maybe she should leave early and help Bertha with the store, just for old time’s sake. She actually missed it a little.
She threw a combo at the bag, frowning as she focused all her strength, attention, and—if she were being honest with herself—jealousy into every blow.
***
A blast of green light assaulted Victoria, and it took everything in her, every ounce of focus, to maintain her massive shield. She gritted her teeth, straining every muscle in her body to hold the shield up, but it was so damn heavy.
She and Fyrn fought once more in the training tunnel, and every day they visited, she improved in spades. She could now keep the shield going long enough to protect herself and summon a sword long enough to use it. Not at the same time, of course, but she would get there.
She could taste revenge. It was so close.
“Good!” Fyrn shouted.
The blast of light stopped, and she peeked over her shield to find Fyrn smirking a bit as he watched her. Styx applauded, squeaking loudly as he clapped.
She stood up straight, silently commanding the shield in her hand to get a little smaller so that she could hold it. It obeyed, shrinking ever so slightly, and her shoulder relaxed a bit in relief. She grinned. “How long until you think I'm ready?”
Fyrn shook his head. “Don't get cocky. Luak is much better than you.”
“For now,” she said, grinning.
He clicked his tongue, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You have way too much to learn to be thinking about revenge, Victoria. Focus on your studies, and revenge will come.”
Her smile faded. Patience wasn't one of her strengths.
“Wait, what’s that around your neck?” Fyrn pointed his staff at Victoria’s chest.
She looked down to see the diamond amulet her parents had left her. “Oh, something I discovered at the bank. My parents left it for me.”
“May I examine it?”
With a slight limp to her step from the training, Victoria crossed the distance between them and set it in his palm. He examined it, eyes crossing a little as he inspected the gemstone.
“Victoria, this is no trinket. It’s a powerful object.”
Her brows shot up her forehead. “Is it?”
He nodded and pointed to the dagger in her arm. “That is a Rhazdon Artifact, obviously, but there are other magical artifacts as well. Not all are filled with dark magic. Most are created for a single purpose, but they need to be powered by something. Think of artifacts as flashlights—they need batteries to work. In Oriceran, those batteries are called relics. Do you follow?”
“I think so,” she said hesitantly.
“This diamond is both artifact and relic, meaning they’re packaged together. You will never have to power this with your own magic. It will simply work for you, always.”
“What does it do?”
“Ordinarily, I couldn’t tell you what an artifact does without intense study and research. This one, however, I’ve seen before. It warns its owner of danger. You must wear it for it to work, but if you do, it will begin to glow if there’s someone nearby who wishes to hurt you. I have no idea how your parents found it, though. Last I heard, it was lost.”
Victoria chuckled. “That sounds like something they’d go after, no question.”
He handed it back to her. “Keep that close. It’s priceless.”
Victoria smiled, studying the necklace with newfound admiration.
“Now, back to work. Again!” he said, lifting his staff and pointing the crystal toward her.
She hefted her shield to cover her face, willing it larger as she prepared for another onslaught. She didn’t care what Fyrn said—she was getting better every day, learning to control her gifts more quickly than she had ever learned anything in her life. It was natural, like breathing.
She wouldn’t have to wait long.
Chapter 25
As Victoria emerged from the training cave, the light from the crystals above dimmed to twilight, casting shadows across the ground. Fyrn still led the way, his staf
f tapping the ground as he led them back to his cottage to plan the next day’s strategy.
Somewhere nearby, a soft and familiar sound tugged on Victoria's ear. She paused, craning her neck as she listened. It grew louder and louder, until she could finally recognize it.
Crying.
“Fyrn, wait,” she said, taking a few steps toward the sound. She craned her ears again, and the noise became clearer. It sounded like a little girl sobbing.
“Victoria, what—”
She bolted toward the sound, not caring if Fyrn told her to ignore it. She ran through an immaculate street lined with lavish homes, and the crying grew louder with every step. As she passed the mansions’ elaborate gardens filled with colorful succulents and mosses, her eyes scanned every yard as she tried to find the little girl who was crying.
Victoria rounded a corner in the road only to find a little goblin girl hunched over a body. The child cried, her ears flapping like wings, her hands covering her eyes. Between sobs, she mumbled something unintelligible.
Victoria knelt beside her, glancing fleetingly at the corpse on the ground. She did a double take when she recognized him—it was the grouchy goblin who sometimes visited Bertha’s shop. She lifted the girl’s chin, and sure enough, this was the little goblin who had given Victoria the flower all those weeks ago. With a flare of recognition in the girl’s eyes, the little goblin wrapped her tiny arms as far as they would go around Victoria's waist.
The girl said something again, but it wasn't in a language Victoria could understand. She held the goblin close, studying the corpse on the ground. She didn't even know where to look for a pulse.
Green blood oozed from large gashes in his shoulder. From the crescent-moon pattern, it looked like the bite of a massive animal. The marks curved around his torso, his arm, his neck, even his face. His nose had been flattened, and his ears were still. From the looks of it, he wasn't breathing.
Victoria held the girl tighter and looked around, desperate to get her to safety and simultaneously in a panic to figure out what could have done something like this. It took a moment, but her eyes eventually settled on the entrance to a tunnel not unlike the one she and Fyrn used to get to their training cave.