by S. M. Boyce
The memory of the sadness in Victoria’s eyes snapped Audrey out of her daze. She lay on the bed, exhausted and aching, wondering what on earth she had gotten herself—and Victoria—into.
Chapter 10
Victoria followed Fyrn closely as he led her down a dark alleyway in a seedy corner of Fairhaven. These streets reminded her of the first time Fyrn had come to her defense, all those weeks ago. An elf had attacked her in the street because he knew she was a Rhazdon host. Now that she had been exposed to the whole city as a Rhazdon host, she didn’t have to worry about being recognized. Still, the seedy back streets made Victoria nervous, and she couldn't wait to leave.
She wondered what on Earth she and Fyrn were there for.
“There is something you need to know,” Fyrn said, eyes scanning every alley they passed. So far they were alone, but Victoria had the feeling that wouldn't last.
“What is it?”
Fyrn hesitated. “I meant what I said about Atlanteans having specific personality traits. You need to be careful. Even though Audrey is your friend, the more she learns about her Atlantean heritage, the less like herself she will become. The more she reconnects with what she really is, the more careful you will need to be.”
Victoria shook her head. “You don’t know Audrey like I do. We’ve had disagreements and she’s said mean shit about me before, but we always get over it in the end. We always make up.”
“You don't understand,” Fyrn said. He paused, turning on his heel so that Victoria had no choice but look him dead in the eye. “Audrey doesn’t have control over this part of herself. The more Atlantean magic she touches, the more she will have to choose between being the person you know and surrendering herself to the Atlantean voice in her head. I haven't seen that many human hybrids of any race, much less Atlantean, but the magical side of them has always won in the end. This is bad news, Victoria. Very bad.”
It took a moment for Victoria to understand the expression on his face—deep concern. Maybe even fear. He was legitimately worried, and that shook Victoria's confidence, however slightly.
But in the end, this was Audrey. In middle school, Audrey had bitch-slapped the school’s Queen Bee at lunch to protect Victoria. In high school, she had pantsed a jock who had publicly shamed Victoria for having a crush on him. No one had dared fuck with Victoria, because in the end they hadn’t dared fuck with Audrey.
When push came to shove, Audrey always chose Victoria. Audrey would never let her down.
When Victoria didn't respond, Fyrn mumbled something unintelligible and started searching the alleyways again. They passed a few crumbling brick ruins with boarded-up doors before Fyrn knocked his walking stick against a door with an ogre's head painted on it.
The ogre’s head came to life, pivoting on an invisible neck to scan the empty street. It finally settled its gaze on Fyrn. “What's the password?”
Fyrn groaned and rubbed his face, cussing silently to himself.
“The password!" the ogre’s head shouted.
“I’m a tense bastard and need to lighten up,” Fyrn said through gritted teeth.
The ogre's head chuckled, bouncing a bit as it flashed a rotting smile. “Yeah, you do. Enter, Fyrn.”
“Idiot thinks he's a damn comedian,” Fyrn muttered under his breath. The door swung open, and he gestured for Victoria to follow him.
Somehow it was it even darker inside the building than on the gloomy streets. The only light came from a few glowing lamps in the corners, which cast a dim glow over a floor littered with stained red and gold pillows. Every now and then she saw a body lying among the cushions, immobile and silent. Horrified, Victoria squinted to get a better look, but they were thankfully breathing.
The longer she looked, the more sprawled bodies she saw. A couple of beautiful elvish women stroked the hair of a man lying across their laps, his eyes glazed as he stared at the ceiling. If Victoria didn't know better she would think they were all high, but there weren't any hookahs or needles in sight.
“What is this place?" Victoria whispered to Fyrn.
Fyrn cast a weary glance at the person lying closest to him. “In Fairhaven, we don't have heroin or cocaine. We have something deadlier.”
He pointed to a young elf in the corner, who lifted one of the small crystals they used as currency in Fairhaven. He held it to the light, examining it and spinning it in his fingers for a moment before putting it into a small pipe and bringing the pipe to his lips. He inhaled, and the crystal glowed green. When he opened his eyes, the whites and irises and pupil had been replaced by a green glow.
Victoria jumped and stumbled backward, bumping into a support pillar. “But they’re literally burning money! You use these crystals to buy things, and…they’re smoking them?”
Fyrn nodded. “We use the denni for currency because they're powerful. People crave power, and the magic high this gives makes you feel immortal and important, as though the universe revolves around you. It’s addictive, and only a fool would try this even once.”
“Have you tried it?”
He chuckled. “Of course. Wizards go to college, too.”
She frowned and scanned the faces on the floor. She recognized one of them, and it took a moment to realize she was mere feet away from the thief she had chased down on Main Street not too long ago. “Hey, that’s the guy who keeps stealing shit around Bertha’s shop.”
“Stay focused, Victoria.”
“Can’t I punch him? Just a little bit.”
Fyrn frowned, watching her as though he were testing her. “Victoria, come. We have a long night ahead of us.”
Her jaw tightened. She longed to discuss it further, but she obeyed. In the end, Audrey mattered more than some asshole thief in a drug den deep in the heart of Fairhaven.
At the end of the long row of pillows and bodies was a massive wooden door. Two ogres guarded it, arms crossed in front of their bodies in a way that reminded Victoria of the bouncers she had seen outside the Seattle clubs she had always wanted to go to. The ogres’ beady eyes never left Victoria, and she tensed.
These fellas didn’t look friendly.
As she neared, the taller one bent toward the doorknob and opened the door for them.
She gave him a sarcastic salute. “Thanks, buddy.”
The ogre grunted in response.
Inside was a lavish office that contrasted starkly with the drug den out front. A mahogany desk sat in the middle of the room, with a luxurious red carpet beneath it and a roaring fireplace behind. Despite the fire the room seemed cool and comfortable, as though the heat couldn’t reach them.
Victoria paused at the entry, feeling guilt at the thought of crossing such a beautiful floor in her filthy mud-covered boots. The office could have easily been in a mansion, and Victoria half-wondered if the door was a portal to another part of the world. The ornate office didn’t match the drug den at all.
A short gnome-like creature sat in the chair, his seat raised so high that Victoria could see the leather cushion. He was dressed in a suit, and his ears poked out on either side of the chair. He was a small creature, maybe three feet tall, but something in his wicked sneer told Victoria she shouldn’t mess with him.
“Welcome,” he said, his voice grating like a file on metal. She flinched.
“I see you still haven’t changed that password,” Fyrn said with a frown.
The gremlin laughed. “I would think you’d enjoy having your own special password to speak to the most powerful gremlin in Fairhaven any time you wish. It’s an honor.”
“Uh huh.” Fyrn quirked an eyebrow.
The gremlin set his fingertips together and leaned back in the chair. “So, old friend, I can only assume you need something. You never come to chat.”
From the depths of his sleeves, Fyrn summoned a bag brimming with small crystals and threw it on the gremlin’s desk. “I have questions, and I need answers.”
The gremlin lazily glanced at the bag without reaching for it. “What sort
of questions?”
“Very difficult ones to answer, Drefus.”
The gremlin sighed and rubbed his ears, pulling on an earlobe. His ears fluttered like wings that wouldn't lift him. “You know I hate this vague shit you pull, Fyrn, but you do it every time. I'm not taking your money without knowing what you want. Give me details.”
Fyrn hesitated, and Victoria studied the old wizard. His lips had tightened into a hard line, and he didn't flinch. He wasn't going to give in.
In the ensuing silence, Victoria glanced between Fyrn and the gremlin at the massive desk. This was a negotiation, apparently. Audrey had told her once that in business the first person to offer a price lost, but that didn't seem to be true in Fairhaven. Here information was more important, and Fyrn wanted a blanket agreement before he told the other a word of what he wanted.
Weird. Every time she thought she had started to understand this city, the situation changed and she learned something new that altered everything.
Drefus eventually laughed. “You certainly like playing hard to get, you old fart.”
Fyrn shrugged, doing a great job of feigning indifference. “I'm overpaying you, frankly, for what I want to ask.”
“I doubt that.”
With a chuckle, Fyrn nodded to the bag of denni. “Is it a deal?”
The gremlin clicked his tongue in apparent disappointment and, without moving a muscle, shifted his gaze toward Victoria. “I want her.”
“Absolutely not!" Fyrn's voice thundered in the office, shaking the very walls. The glass in a nearby window continued to rattle, and one of the ogre bodyguards had to set a hand on it to calm the tremor.
Instead of showing fear, the gremlin smiled. His eyes narrowed as if something in Fyrn's outburst had told him all he needed to know. “Now, hold on, Fyrn. Hear me out.”
“There's nothing to hear. I don't barter lives. I have offered you more than enough money to cover what I need to know.”
Drefus shook his head. “I don't need money. I have plenty. What I need is muscle, namely muscle the people fear. And she"—the gremlin nodded toward Victoria once more—"is a certified Rhazdon host. With her in my employ, my security detail would be complete.”
“Your army, you mean,” Fyrn said, scowling.
The gremlin chuckled. “You think so poorly of me, my friend.”
Fyrn gestured to the bag of denni on the desk, and his hands glowed green. The bag lifted into the air and slowly floated back to him. “I think we're done.”
Drefus set his index fingers on his nose, tapping them on the protuberance as he studied the wizard before him. “Fyrn, I must confess... Every time you come to me to ask for information or assistance, it's because you need it. I know for a fact that you cannot walk out of here, because you have no other way of getting what you need. You showed your cards, old man. You always do in the end.”
“I'll go without if your price is Victoria.”
The gremlin's eyes shifted to Victoria, and she tensed a bit under his gaze. He gave her a very slow onceover, the kind that made her feel as though she weren’t wearing clothes. When guys did this to her at school she slapped them, but she probably wouldn’t get away with that here. As his eyes roamed her, she felt like a piece of meat. Gritting her teeth, ready to attack this motherfucker even though she knew it was a bad idea, she set her hands on her hips and glared at him.
After what felt like an eternity he leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk, shoulders scrunching up by his ears. “Ask your question, and I will give you the price.”
The wizard grabbed the bag of denni out of the air. “You can't have—”
“Yes, yes, Victoria is off limits. Fine. Ask.”
Apparently backed into a corner, Fyrn complied. “I need the location of Atlantis.”
The gremlin laughed. His shoulders shook, his ears fluttered, and he held his head as though he had never heard anything funnier. “You never cease to amaze me, Fyrn. What trouble have you gotten yourself into now?”
“Never mind that. I need coordinates.”
The laughter eventually died down, but he still wiped away a tear. “This won't be cheap.”
“I figured.”
“If you had come to anyone else, they would've told you it was impossible and laughed you out of the room. Anyone else would've thought you had finally gone insane and thrown you out, but I know more than most people. I can do better than coordinates. I can get you a map, complete with access passwords and hidden traps.”
Fyrn scoffed. “Now I know you're lying. A full map? Where could you possibly have found one?”
“There are many people who owe me debts, and a certain treasure hunter I know took his sweet time repaying me. I made it a point to find him and ensure he gave me what was owed. He didn't have the money, but he did have a few interesting items on him. I, shall we say, encouraged him to part with them.”
Victoria crossed her arms. “Did you kill him?”
The gremlin shifted his beady gaze to her and smiled. “Does it matter?”
“It does to me.”
“Victoria, pick your battles,” Fyrn said under his breath.
She hesitated, lifting her chin as she stared at the grinning crime boss in front of her. True, she didn’t know he was a crime boss, but everything she had seen so far screamed magical mafia. The bodyguards. The drug den. The army. The hidden doorway to get in. He must have an empire to run. Her intuition warned her he and Fyrn weren't really friends, and she would be wise to treat him with caution.
Fyrn tapped his staff against the floor to recapture everyone’s attention. “How do we know this map is legitimate? It could easily be a fake.”
“Ordinarily I would agree, but he had in his possession several fascinating items that led me to believe he had actually been there. From our conversation it was clear he barely made it out with his life, and intended to return with an army. Unfortunately for him, he had debts to pay.”
“What items?" Fyrn asked.
The gremlin snapped his fingers, and one of the masked guards by the door reached into a cabinet on the far wall. He pulled out a white stone, not unlike the one Audrey had hidden in her pocket. It was dead and lifeless in his hands, but Victoria imagined it would spring to life if Audrey touched it.
The gremlin grabbed the stone out of his minion’s hands and tossed it between his palms. “I've managed to sell these to a few vendors around the city, and fools who like shiny things buy them. Few know that these are actually incredibly powerful artifacts. Look for yourself, Fyrn.”
The gremlin chucked the white stone toward Fyrn, who caught it and studied its many facets. His thumb brushed something Victoria couldn't see, and he tilted it toward her. An ornate “A” had been carved on the largest facet, and the lines of the letter glowed as though it had iridescent ink embedded within it.
“Legitimate,” Fyrn said.
Drefus nodded. “I had big plans for this map, Fyrn. There are said to be riches unlike anything we've ever seen in the vaults of Atlantis, and as you've already mentioned, I have an army of my own. It wouldn’t be easy or fun, but I could find this place. I could make a fortune. Why should I give this map to you for anything less than a Rhazdon host?”
“Because I’m not for sale,” Victoria snapped.
“Pick your battles, little one.” The gremlin echoed what Fyrn had said earlier, but his voice had dropped to a growl. It was a threat. A warning. She walked a line with every word she spoke, and it was clear this gremlin was powerful. He had wealth and muscle on his side.
But she had ancient dark magic in her blood. He had apparently forgotten she was more than an object to barter.
“Oh, I’m picking my battles quite carefully,” she said, her voice sharp and fierce. She took a step forward, squaring her shoulders as she stared him down. “You can try to buy me, but even if you succeeded it would backfire. If you tried to control me even once, I would turn on you. I would break the things you love. I would destroy you and every
thing you have built from the inside out, and it would be easy for me. Effortless.”
For full effect, she summoned her sword. The guards flinched and stepped backward, hands reaching for their own blades.
She grinned, narrowing her eyes and showing a bit of wicked glee. “You forget that I’m not an object. I’m not a toy. I’m a force to be reckoned with, and I will make your life a living hell if you fuck with me.”
To his credit, Fyrn didn't say a word. Perhaps he was picking his own battles as well, but he didn't interject and he didn't undermine her. She could see him in her peripheral vision, and he was as still as stone, his attention focused one hundred percent on the gremlin in the massive chair by the fireplace.
The gremlin leaned back, tapping his finger on his chin as he studied Victoria's face. “Very well. I have a new price, then. One that still involves you, but not in the way you expect.”
She quirked an eyebrow without saying a thing, implying she was listening without indulging him further.
“You will owe me one favor, to be used at any time I wish. If you agree, I will give you the map.” He snapped his fingers, and the guard who had originally retrieved the crystal now reached into a different cabinet and pulled out a scroll.
“Not a chance,” Fyrn snapped.
Victoria hesitated. A favor didn’t sound terrible.
“I won’t go lower,” the gremlin said, scowling. The wrinkles in his cheeks and forehead exaggerated the frown.
“You ask too much.”
“Fine. I’ll go to Atlantis myself, some other day.” the crime boss gestured with his hand, and the thug to his left picked up the scroll and returned it to the cabinet.
Victoria nodded to the door. “Fyrn, can I have a word?”
“Victoria, don’t—”
“A word, please,” she said with a glare.
He pursed his lips and grumbled, but begrudgingly gestured toward the door. Head held high, Victoria stepped into the hall with her mentor in tow. He slammed the door behind them and snapped his fingers. A yellow bubble popped to life around them, shimmering and glowing as though it were made of sunbeams.