“Well? Can it be fixed?” Nera anxiously shifted from one foot to the other as she watched Nihad examine the Bracer of Fellraven. The old elf hunched over his counter, studying the device. He wore a lens over one eye, attached by a leather strap around his head, which made his eye look as large as a dinner plate. Nera had nearly laughed at the comical sight of the surly mage when he had attached the lens and glowered at her. Nihad continued to studiously ignore her, gently lining up the links of a broken finger piece with the rest of the bracer, using a pointed metal instrument.
Nera sighed, realizing the grumpy wizard wouldn’t appreciate being pestered. She walked over to the front of the shop and looked out the window. Magical wards cast around the windows and door thrummed with power, protecting the store from the civil unrest. Only those welcomed inside could enter. Or anyone with a magical stone, as Nera and Endira carried in their pockets. They could come and go as they pleased—all they had to do was walk through the ward, and it would safely part. A second suit of magical armor was standing guard beside the first, eerily silent, but she knew they were animated and would attack any unwelcome visitors. The strong magic made her nose itch.
Outside the shop, the streets of Nexus were largely still. Dawn had broken several hours earlier, yet most industry had halted as citizens were afraid to venture out unless absolutely necessary. Everyone was hunkered down, awaiting whatever was going to happen, whether the Machine and foundry would be restored to working order or not. She hated to think of what would happen if they weren’t.
Now everyone is expecting me to do something about it. Cursed visions and dreams—what a giant load of arrvak shite. I’m a nobody—a simple rogue! Malek… Now, that one could do great things, if only he were here. But he’s not, nor is Arron, nor Wyat. All her friends were gone, leaving her with her motley group of companions and the uneasy alliance thereof. What happens once we save Malek? They want me to lead them to save Nexus, but they know not what that entails. The only path to salvation for Nexus leads into the Abyss—the Abyss—and freeing the Engineer. My father. How ridiculous it all sounded, and she’d never believe any of it in a hundred years, had it not been happening to her. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, trying to stave off the inevitable stress headache that had been plaguing her since the battle with the Pale Lord.
After the last night’s adventure, she’d returned with Endira while the others went back to their own quarters after she’d advised them to meet that evening back at the Zombie once again. Her nerves had been on edge, hence she’d managed little better than tossing and turning the rest of the night.
“Nera?”
She opened her eyes.
Endira stood a few feet away, concerned. “Are you well?”
She nodded. “Aye. Too much happening too fast is all.” She glanced at Nihad pointedly. “Did he say if he can fix it?”
The elf shook her head. “Nihad didn’t say anything to me, and I thought it best not to interrupt him. When he’s ready, he’ll tell us. I came to ask if you’d humor my master for a moment.”
Nera raised her eyebrows. “Is he…?” She knew the old Seer had little time remaining.
Endira smiled gently. “He has wakened, yet his condition hasn’t improved, if that’s what you are asking. But he asked to see you.”
“See me? Why?” More visions and dire warnings came to mind.
“Perhaps he is curious about the one who will save Nexus and wishes to see you before he passes.” Her lips were curled in her usual slight smile.
Nera couldn’t tell if she was teasing or not. She had come to rely on the elf’s calming presence. Once, she had seen Endira as a rival, but after all that had happened over the past few days, Nera was happy for her companionship.
Nihad was still busy studying the bracer and seemingly hadn’t moved for several minutes.
“I suppose there’s time for a chat,” she said, not wanting to disappoint Endira since her master meant so much to her.
“Oh, thank you, Nera. If seeing you will give him some peace of mind, then that makes me happy.”
Nera nodded, and they went to the back of the shop. Entering the Seer’s chamber, she wrinkled her nose. It smelled of sickness and death, much as the Beggars’ Temple had when she had gone to find Arron following his accident at the foundry. The room was stifling hot due to the stoked brazier near the bed. The old man looked little more than a shriveled husk where he lay propped up by pillows on his bed. His eyes were closed, and his breath rattled like dry leaves. He obviously didn’t have much time remaining among the living. She stepped up beside the bed, unsure if the old man was sleeping or not.
Endira stood just inside the doorway as though not wanting to interrupt. She nodded encouragingly to Nera.
Nera opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment the Seer’s eyelids opened to reveal milky-white orbs. His head swiveled to regard her, and she knew instinctively that he could see her very well indeed. A shiver ran down her spine at the sensation of having her soul laid bare before the man.
“Ah, look at you, child… What a lovely vessel the gods have chosen. You are no plane-cursed. Instead, you are a blessing… to all of us.” He smiled, revealing a toothless mouth. “You have been hidden well. Only now upon my deathbed have they seen fit to lift the veil for a brief glimpse at your role.”
The Seer broke into a coughing fit. Nera looked at Endira, feeling helpless and not knowing how to help the old man. Endira brought over a cup of water and held it so the Seer could drink deeply.
He finished the water and leaned back again. “Child, you are a vessel without a spark. You must regain your spark if you are to become yourself… your whole self. For now, you are but a shell of what you can become.”
More cryptic talk, as expected. Can nobody ever provide a straight answer?
“What does that mean? I am a vessel without a spark? What spark? I am just me, a simple rogue,” Nera said in frustration. The Seer’s words brought to mind something an old monk had told her years ago about drawing the ire of a vengeful spirit because of her spark.
The Seer looked toward Endira. “I was mistaken. The gods are clever to not reveal too much. Neratiri is the one whose destiny will affect all, and not the corruptor as I initially suspected. Lend your strength to her—she will need staunch allies in the dark times ahead.”
“As you wish, master,” Endira replied. She looked at Nera with a new sense of respect, it seemed.
“The time will come soon when you will stand at a crossroads and have to make a grave decision,” the Seer continued, his blind eyes locked onto Nera’s with more force than any seeing gaze could have. “One path leads to a normal life as you are now—a life with many possibilities, most ending in death and failure, but a few paths could lead to a life of contentment, whatever that may be. But certainly, none of those include salvation for Nexus. The other path—that one culminates in greatness. It will require immense sacrifice yet yield tremendous reward. Some will die that others might live. That path leads to the salvation of Nexus and your true destiny. Beware, for others will attempt to gain your alliance with lies and deceit. Whichever path you decide to take, choose wisely.”
Nera opened her mouth to speak but didn’t know what to say. This again—salvation of Nexus? I just want to be me—to have an ordinary life.
The Seer closed his eyes again and lay back heavily. “If that is what you truly want, child, then by all means choose that path. You only have one life, and who are we, or even the gods, to dictate to you which life to live?”
Nera started, realizing he had read her thoughts. “Thank you. I will take your counsel under consideration.” She turned away and was about to leave when another question came to mind. “Does Malek yet live? Will I be able to save him?”
The Seer glanced at her again, his face sad. “A high price is required to save the one you seek. It is possible you may yet do so, but death requires its toll for any that pass through that dark doorway. Remember these words, child. I hope t
hey provide you with some small amount of wisdom to aid you on your arduous path.”
He coughed weakly and looked at Endira. “Fetch Nihad will you, young one? The time is upon me—Xoares is calling me away from this life.”
Nera stepped outside into the hall, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. She leaned against the wall, mind racing again at what the Seer had said. Endira squeezed her shoulder before going to fetch Nihad from the shop.
Indeed, who are they to try to impose their will over my life? Idrimel and Athyzon, the Engineer, even the strange dreams in the ebon temple were all pushing her toward a destiny she didn’t want. I want to remain Nera the Rogue and keep my simple life. I’ll try my best to save Malek, and then I will decide further. All this talk of destiny and duty be damned.
Memories of Mathilda and Wilford being robbed and beaten surfaced, and she felt guilty for her selfishness. She remembered how, in that moment, she’d wished for the power to do something to bring justice upon those who preyed on the weak and helpless, and to restore some semblance of order to her city.
Endira returned with Nihad, interrupting her conflicted thoughts. The wizard had removed the silly lens, but his face looked ill-tempered as ever. He shoved the bracer into Nera’s hand.
“The device is whole again. Its magic is restored. Whether there is a variance in calibration, that I know not. You will find that out when you attempt to use it.”
Nera could’ve sworn he had an amused look on his face before turning toward the door of the Seer’s chamber.
“Thank you, Nihad. What do I owe you?”
The old wizard stopped, turning to catch her eye over his shoulder. He slowly shook his head before replying. “All is even. My uncle has a high opinion of you and your importance. I would just ask you not let him and the whole of Nexus down.” He turned and went inside the Seer’s room with Endira. The door closed behind them with finality.
Nera blinked. “His uncle? I didn’t know.”
She examined the Bracer of Fellraven. The ugly device was restored as it had been before. This thing had better work, or we are all going to be buggered in a spectacularly unpleasant way.
Chapter 11
“Planning an adventure somewhere? I never received my invitation.”
Nera froze upon hearing the familiar voice. A chill ran down her spine, and she felt herself tremble but couldn’t bring herself to look up, for fear her ears were playing tricks on her. Her companions glanced up questioningly at the speaker.
Waresh grunted. “Heard ye were dead. Guess the rumors are shite, like the rest of the city these days.”
“I knew I’d find you here eventually. What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy to see your brother?” A boot scuffed faintly, and the floor creaked as the speaker came up behind Nera.
She turned in her chair and saw her wild hope was indeed true. Arron stood before her, green eyes glinting mischievously as they caught the light from the hearth. His mouth was curled into that familiar crooked smile.
“It can’t be,” she breathed. “By the gods… I watched you die. That bastard Lassiter cut you down in front of my eyes.”
Arron shrugged. “I’ve always been tougher than anyone gave me credit for. You know that.”
Nera knew her brother was remarkably tough, often shrugging off blows that would have claimed others. The burning he’d received at the foundry was just the most recent example—until the battle with the Magehunters.
She got up slowly from her chair, afraid Arron would disappear like a dispelled illusion. Her legs didn’t seem to want to hold her upright. She gingerly stepped forward, and Arron caught her in a tight embrace when she wobbled.
“Damn you, don’t you do that to me ever again!” Nera growled fiercely in his ear. Arron didn’t reply but simply held her. She was aware of the curious looks of her companions and finally broke the embrace. “How in the Abyss did you recover and escape from the Magehunters?” She backed away, frowning at the half-elf.
“Sven, can I get an ale over here, mate?” Arron asked the barkeep before pulling up a chair and placing it at the end of the table beside Nera’s chair. “Well, it seems they wanted me alive, for shortly after the fight when you escaped, they had a priest tend to my wounds. I was almost gone, I’ll admit it—that arsehole nicked me pretty good.”
“Pretty good? He damn well ran you straight through! I watched the sword poke outta your back!”
Arron grinned. “Aye, like I said, he got me pretty good… just not good enough. So, anyway, they tossed me in the dungeons for a few days and questioned me, wanting to know about Malek mostly—why the two of you tried to break into the prison and also about you and your relationship to the mage. I didn’t tell them much, just enough to throw them off the trail. Ah, thanks, mate,” he said as Sven set a foaming tankard down in front of him. He drank half the ale in one draught then wiped his mouth on his sleeve and gave a satisfied belch. “As to my escape, well… let us just say the bards will be singing of my legendary escape as I fought off a whole cohort of Magehunters and the Watch!” He grinned at Nera’s dubious look. “Actually, it wasn’t quite so exciting. I found a loose brick in the floor and smashed the gaoler over the head when he unlocked the cell. The pair of Magehunters who had come to question me were surprised, so I fought them, eventually getting the upper hand. After I took them down, I donned their armor and walked right out the front door… after reclaiming my gear, of course.” He patted the pommel of his short sword fondly.
“Hmph. Sounds like they got novices running the dungeons these days,” Yosrick chimed in. “Never heard of anyone escaping the Magehunter dungeons so easily. Come to think of it, haven’t heard of anyone ever escaping from those bastards’ clutches.”
Waresh was nodding in agreement but was more focused on his ale. The others didn’t seem to have an opinion, at least any they made known.
Nera took a swig of ale and considered. “I must admit—it does sound awfully easy, Brother. You sure they didn’t let you go? If they’re so interested in Malek and me… well, Malek’s… gone, but you could’ve led them right here…” she trailed off and glanced at the door of the tavern nervously.
Arron looked offended. “I wasn’t weaned from the teat yesterday. Course I made sure to take a roundabout way to get here. No way anybody followed me.”
“They could be using magical means,” Yosrick suggested.
“There is that, I suppose,” Arron allowed. “And you are…?”
“Oh, let me introduce you,” Nera said. “This is Yosrick, the Solites are Idrimel and Athyzon, Endira is the elf, and Waresh the retrieval officer. Everyone, this is my adopted brother, Arron.”
Arron’s brows rose higher with every introduction, and they all exchanged pleasantries. “You’ve been busy making friends, I see. So where are we off to?” He glanced pointedly at the packs stacked against the wall beside their table.
“Found a way to get off plane. We are going to rescue Malek first. Once that’s done, well, there’s some disagreement… mostly about us being responsible for saving Nexus or some such madness, but I’m not convinced yet. One thing at a time, I say.”
Arron barked laughter. “Saving Nexus? Isn’t that best left to the authorities? Surely the Lord of Nexus has it well in hand?”
“I’m afraid that doesn’t seem to be the case,” Idrimel spoke up. She was staring at Arron with a puzzled look on her face. When Arron boldly met her gaze with a raised eyebrow, she blushed, quickly averting her eyes to look at Yosrick. “Fill them in on what your uncle told you, Yosrick.”
The gnome belched after quaffing some ale. “Aye, my Uncle Flurbinger is employed at the City Works department. He is the chief engineer tending to the Machine. The reason those portals kept randomly appearing is because the Machine was running out of alignment or some such. Once the foundry went kaboom, the Machine took some heavy damage and stopped altogether.”
“Can’t the Lord of Nexus use his magic to fix it?” Arron asked.
&nbs
p; “Nay. My uncle says the ruler himself came to look at the damage and has been trying to use his magic to get it running again, but so far, it’s not lookin’ so good. It’s well beyond my uncle’s and his people’s skills to fix also. These two good folks”—he nodded at Idrimel and Athyzon—“came here to help, so they’ve been signed up.”
“I received some guidance from Sol that Nera will be instrumental in restoring Nexus,” Idrimel said.
“The Seer believes so as well,” Endira added.
Nera smiled and shook her head slowly. “That’s where the disagreement comes in. I don’t have the necessary skills to help with this problem. I’m but a simple rogue.” She ignored the thoughts in the back of her head, pointing out the dreams she’d had.
“My sister is never mistaken about a true vision sent from Sol,” Athyzon argued.
“And I don’t follow your sun god—his light doesn’t shine here in the Twilight City, if you haven’t noticed,” Nera retorted.
“His light shines in one’s heart no matter how deep the darkness, so long as you welcome him in,” Idrimel said softly.
“So we’re at a bit of an impasse,” Waresh interrupted. “What say ye, Arron?”
Arron stroked his chin. “I stick with my sister—her decision.”
Nera snorted. “Like always, leave it up to me to stick my finger in the trap first, eh Brother?” She gave him a playful grin, happy for his support as always. “Anyway, these three offered to aid us in finding Malek in return that we help them find a way to fix Nexus.”
“And we are going to find Malek how, exactly?” Arron asked.
“The Bracer of Fellraven. We recovered it from that bastard Zaefir and burned his undead arse to cinders in the process.” She patted the pouch on her belt containing the artifact and gave her brother a satisfied smirk.
“You’ve been busy.” He gave her a salute with his tankard of ale, which he promptly attacked again.
Yosrick cleared his throat. “We don’t know for sure if we can reach the Gray Lands since it was supposedly sealed off after becoming a dead world. If the magic is gone, it is possible the artifact will be unable to take us there.” They had spoken of the possibility earlier and had a backup plan in case it didn’t work.
Doors of the Dark Page 10