The Merchant of Nevra Coil (Legends of Windemere Book 8)

by Charles E Yallowitz

  The merman spits a jet of saltwater at the captain’s face, causing her to sputter. “Never question my courage. Carrying this one will be much easier than hauling your oversized frame across the seas. Though I’m not a fool. I won’t stay near the battling goddesses, so you’re on your own to survive and get home.”

  “Good because I don’t want to have to protect someone while fighting,” the champion calmly replies, crossing her arms to match Yarly’s posture. She sidesteps the stream of water from the merman and grabs a nearby waterskin. With a loud clap, she sends the leather-tasting liquid into his face.

  “I like her,” the scaly man claims, taking Claria’s hand to kiss. “Until we meet again, my little land lily.”

  The captain blushes and growls at her laughing crew while the merman pulls himself over the railing. He dives into the ocean and disappears among the normal sharks that have been attracted by the sweet blood. With a gull-like call, Yarly breaks the surface alongside a small boat that is covered in barnacles. The vessel looks like it was once a lifeboat that he salvaged from the ocean floor and enchanted to suit his purposes. He has a harness around his shoulders and back with a leather cord connected to a sparkling hook of gold on the tiny boat’s bow.

  “Good luck, daughter of Zaria,” Claria says, shaking the woman’s hand. A wry smirk is on her face, which exposes one of her pointed incisors. “If you ever need another ride, don’t hesitate to ask someone else. Though maybe I’ll agree to having a friendly drink with you.”

  “I don’t drink.”

  “Then you’ll always be paying.”

  Dariana smiles and steps off the Ghost Pegasus to gracefully land on the smaller boat. She holds the gunwales tightly when Yarly blasts ahead, the merman cutting a swath through the waves. As the champion gets further away from the damaged vessel, she gets a taste of the raw power that is beneath the surface of the ocean. The dizzying sensation fills her with dread and she prays that her other self will be victorious in time to help against the goddesses.

  12

  Delvin keeps his body stiff as it cartwheels through the air and lands on the floor with a solid crack. He holds his tongue when he sees his arm snap off and skitter a few inches away, the limb having broken several times over the last few days. As with the previous injuries, it will be reattached with a sloppy spell and fall off in the morning. More figurines land around him as his destructive owner and a black-haired boy revel in tossing their toys into the air and watching them plummet. The startling sight of another Delvin doll’s head popping off on impact makes the trapped warrior nauseous and angry. It also makes him wonder if he is going to die at the hands of these delinquents, which would be a truly embarrassing end for a destined champion. Both of the teenagers take a quick break to devour a plate of snacks, the pair practically racing to see who can get back to their silly game first.

  “You’re right, Jenny. This is a lot of fun,” the boy claims as he spins a Hellfire Elf figure over the bed. It lands on the pillow and bounces toward the floor, but the blonde girl whispers a spell to cushion its landing. “Why do you keep protecting some of them? Part of the fun is hearing them break.”

  “The others do tricks, but the Delvin toys are worthless,” the short girl says, casting a spell that brings all of the figurines to a nearby table. She changes the Luke doll into a griffin and summons a wind spirit to fly it around the room. “I don’t know why they bothered to make Delvin. I know he’s a champion too, but there’s nothing special about him. Former mercenary, talented swordsman, tactician, and that’s really it. He doesn’t have magic, impressive strength, or an alternate form like the others. Even Nimby is more interesting, but I’ve always been curious about thieves. What do you think, Henry?”

  “It’s possible that he’s a fodder hero,” the scrawny boy replies with a mouth full of food. He swallows the snacks and belches, receiving a pillow to the head for not covering his mouth. “I remember a few bard tales where there’s a character who is nothing special. He or she dies at some point, which rallies the superior heroes to win.”

  “Never considered that, but adventurer history isn’t a big subject at the academy,” Jenny says in an attempt to save face. She takes Delvin and his broken arm, muttering a spell to fuse the limb back together. “It’s getting late and I have a summoning test tomorrow. This one requires a medium, so I’ll bring a Delvin toy in case I make a mistake. Not that I will, but I don’t want to lose something I care about. Four other kids are competing with me for the top spot. The students with the highest grade in each class get to duel a Rainbow Tower apprentice of the same level.”

  Henry scratches his head, the workings of magic beyond his understanding. “I have a numbers test to study for and the students with the highest grades get out of being yelled at by our parents. We’ll meet up at the docks tomorrow. Don’t forget that it’s your turn to bring the snacks and fake beer. Night, Jenny.”

  The two friends hug and Henry slips out the first story window, the boy cursing when he trips over the thick bushes. The pretty girl shakes her head and closes the curtains before gathering the figurines into her lithe arms. She gently places most of them on a shelf alongside the Nyx and Trinity replicas that she treats with tender care. She kisses her fingers to press them on the forehead of each channeler before making a silent prayer that she will grow up to be as strong as her idols. Jenny callously tosses the Delvin toys into a crate that she keeps in her closet, which is also home to old shoes and broken spell targets. The girl is about to change for bed when she stops and rummages through the wooden box, pulling out the possessed toy.

  “You’re more durable than the others, so I’ll use you for the test,” Jenny tells the figurine while testing its arm. The fragile limb snaps off in her fingers and she flicks it into a nearby trash can. “I’ll put that back on tomorrow morning if I feel like it. Can’t believe I’m talking to a toy and not even one of the interesting heroes.”

  The girl puts Delvin in her orange satchel, which is hanging on a hook next to her bedroom door. Once he is out of sight, the warrior touches the hole in his shoulder and silently worries that he will return to his body without the use of his arm. The smell of perfume and chocolates gives him a headache, so he climbs to the top of a colorful notebook to get some fresh air. He falls back into the mess of quills, pencils, and jewelry when Jenny opens the door and slams it shut. Too stressed and frustrated to continue fighting, Delvin passes the time listening to the distant sounds of the city. He can hear gulls and the occasional shout of those outside, none of the words clear enough for him to even guess at the conversation. When the flickering candlelight disappears and he is plunged into total darkness, the warrior still refuses to move or speak for fear that his condition will be discovered.

  Hours pass before the satchel is violently yanked off the hook and all of its contents are dumped on the ground. The warrior’s surroundings are framed by a faint aura of white light, giving the room an eerie atmosphere. Jenny continues to sleep, unaware that her belongings are sitting at the feet of Gabriel. The god shrinks to match Delvin’s size as the champion stands and bows his head in respect. It is an act that betrays his hope that he will soon be free from his cruel owner and restored to his real body.

  “Why are you still with this child?” Gabriel asks, kicking a hairbrush out from between him and the warrior. “I understand why the barbarian is trapped and the others are being pursued. Yet you remain with a girl who is on a path to becoming a spoiled caster with an interest in torturing fairies. An entertaining destiny if I do say so myself.”

  “She’s kept me locked in the house and I’m too weak to open a window,” Delvin explains while searching for his gear. He finds the shield that she had given him after one of his replicas was launched off the roof and damaged beyond repair. “The one time I got out of her room, she blamed her little brother and destroyed his favorite doll. I worry that she’ll do that again. I might not be as amazing as my friends, but I can’t cause trouble for oth
er people by leaving. Dariana or Nyx will find me before it’s too late.”

  “Good that you have faith in them,” the god says. He hears Jenny stir and whistles a spell to put her into a deeper slumber. “Still, I never saw you as the type to wait for rescue. Especially after all the times you have jumped into the fray to defend others. Even as a mercenary, you had many moments of loyalty and honor. The only one who trumps you is the barbarian and that is not by much. It is a shame that this mess has revealed the truth about you.”

  Delvin suspiciously eyes the god, an act that makes him turn his head backwards to avoid the terrifying gaze he gets in return. “Forgive me for being a foolish mortal, but I don’t know what you’re insinuating. Are you able to explain or have you appeared to poke at me like a caged lion? If you’re bored then I’m sure Sari or Luke are much more entertaining.”

  “There is the bite that I was hoping to see again. It is unfortunate that you can no longer maintain it,” Gabriel claims, taking the warrior by the hand. The god grows to his full height and holds the figurine in his palm. “I sense jealousy, confusion, fear, and pain within your aura, Delvin Cunningham. These weaknesses have always been there, but now they are coming to the surface. I wonder what has corrupted your spirit.”

  The warrior turns away, feeling ridiculous since he is still standing on the deity’s gloved hand. He stares at the shelf where the replicas of his friends and enemies have been tenderly positioned. There is no Delvin figurine among the displayed toys, all of them having been tossed into the crate. He can only imagine the treatment that his facsimiles are getting throughout Ralian. If people were only uninterested in him then it would be easy for him to accept and go on with his life. Yet Delvin has spent the last few days hearing people wonder what role he plays among the champions and guessing at how he will inevitably die. It has been made very clear to the warrior that most of Ralian sees him as expendable, which has brought up emotions that he thought he buried during his training days.

  Ignoring the impatient growl from Gabriel, the champion jumps to the floor and goes about putting Jenny’s belongings back into the orange satchel. He tries his best to stall while he sorts his inner turmoil and come up with a mature response. The only thing Delvin can think about is that he has a gap in his life that his friends do not share. All of them have a lifelong identity that they have cherished and nurtured while he is nothing more than a void tucked within the façade of a simple warrior.

  “Strip me of my gear and what am I left with?” Delvin asks, briefly forgetting that he is not alone. He shivers at the god’s chuckle and takes a seat on the satchel, his fake knees clicking as they bend. “I was the last one to be bought in the marketplace, so I got to hear a lot of opinions on the champions. Everyone looks at the others with some level of awe because there’s something unique about them. All they see in me is a warrior who isn’t as flashy as Luke or as powerful as Timoran. Compared to Nyx and Sari, I’m worthless because I lack magic. It got me wondering about myself and all I see is a blank. I live in the now and the future, but I rarely consider the past.”

  “And by doing so, you have made yourself into a bland figure that is overshadowed by his friends,” Gabriel interrupts, a hint of frustration in his voice. “Being a champion is not about fame, but I guess it was inevitable considering the scope of your destiny. Even so, I truly do not care if you accept your past or run from it. All I want you to do is stop wasting time with this girl and return to your body.”

  “Why forge a painful past for me if it doesn’t matter?” the warrior inquires. An invisible force picks him up and jams him into the satchel, which floats back to its hook. “I’m sorry if the question offended you, but look what you did with Nyx and Sari. Why did their suffering enhance their reputation while mine stays a faded memory? I’ve been trying to figure that out for days.”

  “Because they used their suffering to become stronger. You ran away from your past and never looked back. If you need me to tell you that then maybe you truly are nothing more than fodder.”

  Delvin loses his voice at the cruel words of the god, who sinks into the emerald moonlight that pours through a space between the closed curtains. For the rest of the night, the warrior stays within the cluttered satchel and fights to remember his early childhood. To his horror, he cannot recall the details of his parents’ faces or the names of fellow tribesmen. After all of these years, Delvin’s past is nothing more than fractured memories that feel like they belong to a scared boy who perished long ago.

  *****

  The ivy-covered wall around Sparkflag Academy is topped with cherubs that have been enchanted to eject anyone who tries to climb onto the school grounds. The solitary building is a brown stone triangle with a corkscrew-shaped tower of white at each corner. While there are windows all over the building, only a single door can be seen at the end of the wide, cobblestone entryway. Griffin-shaped bushes line the stone road while a coiling dragon-like hedge runs along the rest of the perfectly maintained grounds. Smoke wafts from the fake beast’s nostrils, stirring a rumor among the students that it is a real dragon that has been transformed by a curse. It is because of this story that many ambitious apprentices try to animate the hedge, resulting in a magical backlash thanks to the protective spells around the academy.

  Each floor has a single, tan-colored hallway that runs around the entire structure with only three stairwells connecting them. Spectral guards wander the stairs and wail if they come across a student who is skipping class. Hanging from every other crossbeam is the academy’s symbol and namesake, a blue flag with the orange emblem of a spark. Many of these silken decorations are dotted with burn marks from years of students attempting to enchant them with permanent electricity spells. Due to the danger of such a stunt, every staff member has been taught a spell to eliminate such a prank. Not a single employee has ever made it through a tenure at Sparkflag Academy without having to cast the dispeller at least twice.

  Students push and jostle each other as they either rush to their morning class or procrastinate at the edge of the mob. The younger students travel together to protect themselves from getting trampled, the outer members of the groups ready with minor protection spells. Some of the older kids fling harmless balls of light into these packs to startle the children and send them stumbling into other people. Occasionally, these pranks are met with a swarm of weak force spells that knock the more experienced apprentices on their back. Such incidents are handled quickly because time is always being counted and watched in the school. Being late is seen as a student’s failure of character and dedication, which is why winged bells fly above the students’ heads between class sessions. To keep the day moving smoothly, these enchanted objects release an irritating five-minute warning that shatters all conversations.

  “Are you ready for the summoning test?” an Elven girl asks Jenny as they hang their satchels on hooks in the closet.

  “It’s going to be so easy, Amelia,” the blonde replies while bending down to fix her boot laces. “I wish they made it in the morning though. Waiting until after lunch is ridiculous. There’s no way I can concentrate on my studies and this gives my competition time to improve. Some of them might even try to take my focus object.”

  “That’s why I’m using my favorite bracelet,” Amelia proudly declares, showing off her gaudy jewelry. The cloudy, yellow gems are hideous against the gold ring. “I heard you’re going to use a Delvin figurine. That’s a strange choice.”

  Jenny wipes some dirt from her knee and puts a condescending hand on her friend’s shoulder. “The less you care about something, the easier it is to sacrifice. I can summon something a lot stronger than you because you want to keep your bracelet intact. As far as I’m concerned, this stupid toy can become a melted puddle after I’m done with it. If I can get the creature I want then that’s exactly what will happen.”

  “Excuse me,” whispers a bald dwarf with a tattered backpack. He has the bare beginnings of a beard, which is nothing more than
dark stubble. “I need to put my stuff away.”

  “Go away, Robert. We’re talking,” the golden-haired elf snaps at the boy. She glares at him in the hopes of scaring him away, but he merely holds his bag in front of his face. “Fine. Put that thing over there. Don’t let it touch our stuff. It looks filthy.”

  Without looking at his classmates, the steel-eyed dwarf hangs his belongings next to Jenny’s orange satchel. He hurries out of the closet while the girls mutter with just enough volume that he knows they are talking about him. They wait for Robert to take his seat before Amelia hisses a spell that snaps the hook that his backpack is on. The bag lands with a small crack as something fragile breaks from the impact. Neither of them bother to check or tell Robert about it as they take their seats in the front row. The girls make themselves comfortable while putting on their best smiles for their friendly instructor.

  Delvin peeks out of the satchel to make sure nobody is watching and he is thankful that none of the students can see his side of the closet. The distance to the floor makes him nervous since he will be trapped if his legs snap off. Not wanting to leave evidence of his escape, the warrior dangles from the edge of his canvas prison and aims for the fallen backpack. With a rushed prayer to Cessia, he kicks off the satchel and plummets toward the patch-covered bag. He hits his target, but something hard inside causes his shoulder to crack along the seam. At the same time, Delvin hears something grunt from inside the backpack.

  “Sorry,” he whispers out of habit.

  “It is not a problem, my friend,” Timoran replies, his voice slightly muffled by the fabric. “It is a relief to hear your voice again.”

  “By the gods, you have no idea how happy I am to run into you,” Delvin excitedly says a little too loudly. He ducks behind the backpack when the teacher steps into the doorway to see if a student is hiding in the closet. The woman’s eyes sparkle to see through invisibility spells, but she leaves when a loud crash brings her back to her students. “Get out of the backpack and let’s get out of here. Gabriel mentioned you were trapped, so I’m guessing you were stuck in a house like I was. Cessia must really be on our side today.”