by Jeff Kish
Fire brandishes her dagger once again. “You want to see uncivilized? I’ll slice you open if you don’t get me the money. Is that uncivilized enough for you!?”
“Fire!” Era yells. “Calm down!”
His words fall on deaf ears. The cold hunter’s blue eyes penetrate deep into the professor’s soul. Harsh as she has been, even the dean can tell that something has snapped within her, and he instantly knows that the wrong words will put the dagger through his neck. “I-I’ll get you the money.”
Fire’s eyes narrow to slits as her feral demeanor wanes. “Then go get it,” she grunts, releasing him with a shove.
The overweight academic stumbles backward and retreats. His footsteps echo as he climbs the lengthy staircase to the ground level.
Era doesn’t wait for Marris to exit the library before unloading on his ally. “What in the world are you thinking, Fire? And here I thought I would be the one to screw this up for us!”
Fire uncharacteristically shrinks back. “We need to go to Alleria. The military can’t follow us across the border, so it’s naturally the safest place for us to go.”
“Then why wasn’t that the plan from the beginning?” Era argues, his patience draining.
“It was my plan from the beginning. I just didn’t mention it.”
Era laughs aloud. “Seems our relationship is still the same. Why did I expect this would be any different?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You never let me in,” he says. “You won’t let me know what you’re doing or why you’re doing it. Here I thought we were working together, but nope! The brilliant wisdom of a Merc Market expert brings salvation to the incompetent duo.”
Fire rolls her eyes. “You really want me to comment on that?”
“We were supposed to get in and get out without raising suspicion. Now they’re bound to report this to the military!” He sits at the table and scratches the back of his head. “Jem’s going to be furious.”
The hunter twirls her dagger to calm herself. “It is what it is. Let’s get outside and in the open. It’s not safe down in this dungeon.”
“Not anymore, at least,” Era says as he closes the book. He tries to lift it with his only arm but is unable to gain the needed leverage.
“Leave it and come!” Fire barks as she ascends the stairs with Jem’s satchel in hand.
Era fixates forlornly on his find. “I wanted to take it with me.”
“Why? What’s so important about it?”
“I need to know!” he answers too loudly. “Runoids had no free will. They were made to be killing machines. I need to know if…” He pounds the book in frustration and follows his ally. “The dean would have let me study it if you hadn’t gone crazy, you know?”
“If we make it to Alleria, you can interview the author himself,” she offers.
His face lights up at the thought. “That’s not a bad point.” Intently, he whispers in an attempt to memorize, “Corpit Luk… Corpit Luk…”
As the two climb the stone stairs, a sizable crowd of black robes emerges from the doorway above. Their leader sports long, gray locks and thick spectacles, and he marches as energetically as the rest despite his age. Era glances nervously to Fire, but she plants her feet and crosses her arms, not the least bit intimidated by the mass.
The most elderly professor points with his gnarled staff. “I take it you’re the ones with the rune?” he asks in a raspy voice.
The experienced assassin is bored by the display. “I’m not in the mood for games, old man. Did you bring my money or not?”
“I am Headmaster Laffel,” the principal responds with disdain. “This is quite the fascinating scenario. Two laypersons appearing in our institution who not only claim to have a runoid fragment, but also spouting ancient secrets even my ears have only recently heard.”
Era slowly deciphers his words. “You mean the runics? The dean didn’t seem to know what we meant.”
“The crown is restricting the propagation of this knowledge,” he replies, “so I must know how two lowlifes would have heard such a thing.”
Fire clenches her fist. “Insult me one more time, you feeble old-”
“Look, we just want to leave peacefully,” Era calls out, stepping in front of Fire. “If half a million is too much for the Academy, we can-”
The headmaster cackles. “Such a sum is mere pocket change, especially for something as valuable as you claim to possess.”
Era frowns. “So why not just pay us?”
“Don’t be absurd,” he huffs. “The prestigious Three Pillars Academy caving to the extortion of uncouth rapscallions? Our reputation must be kept clean.”
Fire’s anger is now boiling. “Get me my money before I shove your prestigious tails over the edge!”
“Hand over the purported runoid and submit yourselves to interrogation,” he says matter-of-factly. “The crown will be most interested to learn what it can from you.”
“We can’t do that,” Era declares. “Please just let us leave.”
The headmaster sighs. “I’d hoped to avoid a mess.” He signals to the professors behind him, who open their palms and take aim.
Though Fire seems intent on challenging them all at once, Era grabs her hand and leaps from the stone staircase just as the group unleashes a blast of wind that would have sent them flying. They land hard on their feet and manage to stumble away as the elemental manipulators hurry to give chase.
“What’d you do that for?” Fire shouts.
Era rolls his eyes. “You’re welcome.”
“This way!” she barks, cutting into an aisle and making a break for the back of the library. “That backstabbing dean showed up from over here somewhere.”
Era rushes to keep up. “Can’t blame him for backstabbing us after what you pulled!”
“Shut up!” she snaps as she makes another turn and comes face-to-face with an angry air maker, though the winds barely make it to his fingertips before Fire disposes of him with an elbow to the gut. They shove past him only to reveal themselves to a pair of fire shapers. With the flames already dancing in their hands, the two spin and run the opposite direction.
“They’re over here!”
“Get them, get them!”
“GOT THEM!” an obese professor screams as he appears in front of Era and Fire with a brilliant light shining from his palm. His victims shield their eyes from the burning intensity and turn back to their foes chasing from behind, who are equally blinded by the light, making it easy for Era and Fire to shove their way past and retreat into another aisle.
As they round a corner, Fire brings her dagger up to intercept a water blade clumsily swung at her. Era fumbles at his waist to open his pouch while Fire easily kicks the robed shaper’s weapon from his hand and shoves him down. She yanks Era’s wrist and pulls him along. “You can’t open it with one hand yet?”
“I haven’t practiced it under duress!” he complains. They charge down another aisle, only to find the fire shapers again. This time, the two unleash a blast at their targets, who dive to avoid it, and the fireball careens into a wooden bookshelf.
The blazing impact instantaneously roars to an inferno. The robed professors shove their precious few water makers to the front in a desperate attempt to save their collection of tomes, and the chaos makes it easy for the two fugitives to slip into the back stairwell.
* * *
“The library is ablaze!?” Marris cries at the report. “We’re guarding the front entrance, so they must still be in the tower. Find them!” he barks to a group of students. As they scramble away, the dean rubs his temples and groans aloud as he begins his own search of the classrooms.
As he rounds a corner, a hand reaches from the shadows and slams the dean’s forehead into the stone wall. He’s spun around and shoved to his knees, where he finds a dagger inches from his face. “Bad choice, Dean,” Fire says as Era keeps watch in the hallway behind her.
The dazed Marris throw
s his hands in the air. “I-It’s not my fault! When the headmaster learned of the runoid fragment, he started rallying the other professors! I swear, if your request was more judicious then the exchange would have transpired without repudiation!”
Fire screams with rage as she gashes the dean’s thick robe with her dagger. “I’m sick and tired of your big words and your big heads! Now take me to your treasury or vault or whatever and get me my money.”
“Fear not, professor! I’ll save you!” a voice cries from down the hallway. Caught slacking in his watchman duties, Era is surprised to find a golden-haired student in a green robe challenging the duo. He appears unarmed, yet he approaches aggressively.
“Ospif!” Marris shouts. “Stay your bravado! These barbaric ruffians will slit your throat without hesitation!”
Fire resists the urge to prove the professor right as she points her dagger at the newcomer. “Back away, Green Robe. No reason for you to die.”
The tall student removes his garb and withdraws a cylindrical stone from his pocket, which prompts Marris to shout, “Ospif, you incompetent dolt! What are you doing with Crystalblade? That rune is still undergoing research and development!”
Ospif presses on the side of the small rock, and a nearly-invisible blade extends from its end. He slices the air and says, “Don’t worry, Professor. You and I both know something these uneducated louts couldn’t begin to understand.”
The dean’s expression relaxes as his eyes fall to his aggressor’s metal dagger.
“A blade made from air?” Era gasps as a flood of emotions overwhelm him. Even Fire’s breathing seems to race as her mind takes her back to her battle with Di and the plunge from the sky boat.
As Ospif charges, Era again scrambles for his pouch of dirt, but Fire just shoves him aside with her dagger drawn. “I’m sick of this,” she mumbles as she raises her blade. The dean gleefully watches as Ospif brings the elemental weapon down, fully expecting the sharpened rune-blade to slice cleanly through his opponent. However, contrary to his anticipation, Fire’s dagger shatters Ospif’s blade. The stunned student has no time to react as Fire slams her knee into his gut and throws him to the floor. What’s left of the solidified air dissipates as the rune bounces off the ground and rolls away.
The dean is in utter shock at what he just witnessed. Era smirks at his reaction, having barely noticed himself as Fire applied a thin yet sturdy layer of ice to her blade. He glances to the floor but can’t locate any ice fragments; the elementalist has improved her technique since her bout in the cargo hold.
Fire stoops and retrieves the small rune the student had dropped, then flips it to Era. “That thing’s got nothing on Di,” she mutters.
“Di?” the frazzled student asks in astonishment. “As in, Di Venelli?”
Era finds the activation button on the rune and marvels at the construction of the air blade. “Yep, we’re friends of Di. This definitely reminds me of her.”
Fire turns back to the dean. “Now, as we were saying?”
Marris slams his fist on the ground. “Return that rune this instant! It would take us a year to reproduce-”
“What were we saying about the MONEY,” Fire barks.
The dean remains resolute. “This prestigious Academy cannot allow itself to be ransacked by hooligans! We will never meet your demands.”
The assassin shoves her dagger to the student on the ground. “And what would happen to your reputation if you let one of your students get sliced to pieces?”
Ospif’s eyes widen as Marris stutters, “D-Don’t touch a hair on his head, you ignorant simpleton! That lad is royalty!”
“Dean!” cries the student. “That information was to remain strictly confidential!”
Marris ignores him and insists, “If you so much as ruffle his clothes further, you will be hunted like a dog by the military! Surely you scum have better sense than to bring such a fate upon yourselves.”
Era scratches his head. “Little late for that.”
Fire looks to Ospif with a smug grin. “Seeing as we can’t make the military hunt us any more than they already are, your royal hide will be coming with us. You’ll make a fine hostage.”
The royal student is horrified. Era pats his shoulder and says, “Sorry we didn’t ask nicely. Or really ask at all.”
The dean’s head spins. “Y-Y-You cannot be serious!”
“No harm will come to him as long as you get me my money,” Fire growls.
Marris hangs his head in defeat. “Very well, then. I’ll get you the half-million.”
“That’s more like it,” Fire says as she yanks him to his feet. “Now lead the way.”
* * *
The crowd of professors is abuzz as they guard the entrance to the tower. The air is thick with a hazy smog as smoke continues to rise from the basement entryway. Headmaster Laffel marches among the group and shouts, “They can’t have made it far! Recruit the students into search parties. We must secure that rune at all-”
The headmaster is interrupted by a professor’s shriek as she tumbles down the main stairs and lands at its base. Each combatant raises a palm or aims a rune at the stairwell, waiting in anticipation as loud footsteps echo from above. Finally, Ospif reveals himself, one hand in the air and the other gripping a hefty bag. Fire shadows him, holding her blade to his neck where all can see, and the cloaked Era takes the rear.
The headmaster steps forward and sneers. “Let him go, you filthy rapscallions!”
“Let us leave unharmed and his safety is guaranteed,” Fire counters.
“You’ll pay dearly for attacking this defenseless institution of knowledge.”
“Defenseless!? You attacked us!”
“Do not compare our justified actions to those of despicable societal outcasts,” he spouts back. “We are the civilized ones, here. We are the elites of our society! It is your privilege that we even let you step foot into this prestigious institu-”
“STOP SAYING PRESTIGIOUS!” she screams, red in the face.
Era steps forward with his hand raised. “We just want to leave. We’ll even give you the rune if you let us pass.”
Fire balks. “Idiot! We will NOT-”
“We will,” he calmly says. “It’s no longer valuable to us.”
The headmaster gives a glance to Ospif, as if weighing the value of his royal student to that of the artifact. Ultimately, he extends a hand and says, “Prove yourself.”
Era reaches into Fire’s bag and withdraws the half-piece of the rune. Strange as it is, he feels a sadness at parting with a memento of their journey with Di, especially so soon after reclaiming it. He runs his finger once more along the gash he inflicted to slay the menacing monstrosity before setting the rock on the marble floor and kicking it to the headmaster.
The old man stoops to pick it up, and the professors around him lose their focus to peer over his shoulder. “Incredible…” he mumbles as he passes his hand over the rings of indecipherable symbols.
“Now let us pass!” Fire shouts.
The headmaster raises a hand, already only half-caring about the health of his royal student. Her knife in his back, Fire leads Ospif around the assembly and to the front door as the professors crowd around their prize, but Marris stumbles into the foyer and proclaims, “They took half a million venni from the treasury!”
With several dozen eyes shifting their focus to the bag in Ospif’s hands, Fire prods her hostage forward and shouts, “RUN!” A knife at his neck, Ospif obeys as the three make a mad dash from the tower and into the open courtyard. The robed mob pours out after them, each elemental maker volleying off rounds of whatever element he or she controls. However, there’s little that a spray of water or a shower of sand can do from their distance.
“What happened to tying him down?” Fire screams as she watches the unhealthy professors grow winded and fall behind.
“I told you I only have one hand,” Era says. “You said ‘use your teeth’, so I did!”
“
Next time complain louder!”
Though most have stopped pursuit, Era finds several younger professors and students are still giving chase. “Want me to get rid of the stubborn ones?”
“Be my guest,” Fire says as Era stops and digs his fingers into the ground. He waits patiently as their angry pursuers get closer.
Ospif watches his captor with disdainful curiosity. “You intend to fight off so many? You underestimate my colleagues.”
“Shut up and watch,” Fire retorts.
Just as the pursuers come within a stone’s throw, the ground beneath their feet gives way. Though they only fall to their shins, each step suddenly becomes an imbalanced one. One of the pursuers falls flat on his face as his boot sinks.
With immense satisfaction, Era brushes his hand off on his shirt. “That’s my widespread assault! Most everywhere they step will give out a half-foot.”
Ospif is in disbelief at the breadth of Era’s technique. “Y-You accomplished that by shaping the ground!?”
“Come on,” Fire grunts as she prods her hostage along. “Admire his handiwork from a distance.”
“Why must I still come?”
“Because that bag looks heavy,” she says, waving her dagger in his face.
He groans in disapproval but obeys. As Era follows, he absorbs the chaos of the scene, from the half-dozen professors still giving chase to the billows of smoke pouring from the Academy tower, and he finds himself troubled that Fire would create such tracks in her rage. If the military didn’t know their whereabouts before today, they certainly will now.
Chapter 3
The escaping fugitives charge through the brush, seeking the safety of the woods, but Era eventually succumbs to the throbbing in his legs and stoops to catch his breath. “Fire… I don’t think… they’re following us! I need a break.”
Her hostage still in tow, Fire turns back to her ally in exasperation. “Really, Era? Aren’t you literally built better than that? Even this Academy buffoon is in better shape than you are.”