Ez Ozel: Prologue to Perdition

by Dave Oliver

  “Wardens, please. There’s nothing untoward here. We were just having a disagreement on price.” The thin man fished around in his purse and pulled out a five-ire coin. “Here, I’ll pay your requested price.” He flipped the coin over to the merchant. It hit him on the chest and clanked down on the boardwalk.

  “I don’t want your money. Just leave me alone.” The merchant gently set down the box he’d been holding and turned to the Wardens. “You see this? Someone on his payroll snuck it on my ship when I was leaving Halcyon Bay. Now this guy came to take it.”

  Casselle raised an eyebrow. “Smuggling, eh? Why don’t we just have a look inside?”

  The thin man moved to stop her, but Elress stepped into his path and placed her hand on the hilt of her falchion.

  Casselle grabbed an old, rusted crowbar from inside the merchant’s stall and pried open the top of the crate. She grabbed a handful of packing straw and flung it aside. She gaped at what she saw. “What…is this?”

  The thin man sighed. “It’s a new amberarm from the Amalgam. They’re working with this new exploding powder that supposedly doesn’t risk blowing you up when you shoot the thing. I wanted to check it out for myself.”

  Casselle slowly reached in and picked it up. It was the smallest and lightest amberarm she’d ever seen. Most were as tall as a person or more, but this was about as long as her leg. Not that she’d seen many up close. Nobody carried them since they were so unreliable and were just as likely to kill the user as the victim. But if the Amalgam was really making a usable version…

  “We need to take this to the captain. This is serious if it’s true.”

  Elress nodded.

  “Well,” the thin man said, “that’s not going to be possible. I paid good money for that.”

  “Your money’s on the ground.” Casselle gazed down at the five-ire coin lying on the planks.

  “No, not that. It took a lot of money to get that out of Provenance. And I need to figure out how it works.”

  “Don’t worry. We’re bringing you too.”

  Elress took the cue and moved forward with her restraints. The man jumped backward and grabbed a dagger that was tucked in the waist of his pants. He lunged past Elress at Casselle.

  Casselle tossed the amberarm into her left hand and drew her rapier as she spun away from the attack. With a quick stroke, she opened a small gash on the man’s knife hand. He swore before tossing it to the other hand and striking again. Casselle readied a parry, but she didn’t need it. Elress elbowed him hard in the jaw and he fell clumsily to the ground. She knelt and restrained him while he was down.

  The merchant stared at the humbled assailant and swallowed hard. “Am I in trouble too? I swear I didn’t know that thing was on my vessel.”

  Casselle smiled at him. “You’re fine. This guy’s into some particularly nasty smuggling, and you were just caught in the middle.”

  Elress finished restraining him and hauled him up on his unsteady feet. She looked over at the merchant. “If these guys approach you again, ask for Lieutenant Cressian up at the barracks. She’ll get it sorted for you.”

  With that, they took the thin man away while the merchant continued to unpack his goods for sale.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The cacophony of sound and smell that tore through the manor as a result of Merrik’s irritated bowels drew to a close. He sat, mouth agape, chest heaving, in a state of recovery. His bony knees were red from his hands squeezing them tight. His vision swam as blood started rushing back to his head. He swallowed hard, finished his business, and stood up. He put his robes back on and stumbled out into the conservatory.

  The sun was high and its shine through the glass overhead felt warm and comforting. Being a sickly sack of skin and bone made life quite a cold affair, and heat was precious, even in Ryten’s burning summers. He couldn’t bring himself to appreciate the rare pleasant feeling. He was too frustrated and angry. He walked through the large conservatory where all manner of color and aroma filled the air, attempting to tickle his senses with the wide array of summer blooms. Something drew his attention to a particularly vibrant patch of redolais, and he almost stopped a moment to appreciate a small cluster of the rarest flower in the Commonwealth. But he moved on and trudged past the reflecting pool with its gentle waterfall that was intended to promote peace and inner thought. He burst through the doors opposite where he’d come in, walked past the foyer, and headed straight for his study.

  He entered and gave a sharp glance around. His disheveled tomes were lying where he’d left them, the fire in the hearth still gave a dim glow, and his pet finch, Pod, looked his way curiously. He swiped at the air to his right and it took a few futile waves before he managed to grab his cane. He ignored the soft cries of his pet bird welcoming him and walked over to the far end of the room, leaning heavily on his cane.

  He hobbled past his experiments, his salves, his elixirs, and his journals. He headed straight for the large hole in the rear wall. He slunk inside and settled in where he always did—on the horribly uncomfortable stool in front of the ancient altar. He pulled a remarkably large book from the shelves on the wall and opened to the page he had bookmarked with a quill.

  “Let’s see,” he to himself, pondering. “It’s clearly referencing a triangular dial, but that was hidden behind the side plate seven moves ago.” He set the book on the floor in front of him and leaned in close to the base of the altar. For the most part, the strange shrine looked like one of those large carved-stone memorials that were found all around the Grand Gardens. But this one was hollow, and the inside contained a hodgepodge of knobs, hinges, slides, and twists. It was the most complicated puzzle he’d ever seen, and he hated puzzles. He sighed. Maybe he’d fucked this up in the beginning. After finding this thing a couple years ago, he’d fiddled with it on his own. He’d managed to get the white, black, and gray runes on top to glow without any sort of assistance. Now that he was working from Senrigal’s notes, maybe that first foray into this bullshit was affecting the instructions.

  He sat there a moment and traced one of the spiraling coils. As obnoxious as it was to solve, it really was an incredible thing. Most puzzle boxes were made of wood, carved ever so precisely to fit and snap together in ways meant to befuddle the user, and even then it still took some force to shove things into the right places. Standard wooden puzzle boxes were more throwaway novelty than noteworthy elegance. But this was beautifully carved completely from stone, and it was more masochistic than challenging. Whereas most of these puzzle devices were made to be opened only by a person who knew how, this felt more like nobody was supposed to solve it at all.

  He poked at a few different pieces to see what was set in place and what could still be moved. He felt the dial the book wanted him to move firmly set against the plate near the back. He had two options at this point. He could move forward and figure out his own way, or he could try to work backward and reset the whole thing. He’d rather have driven nails through his eyes than done either of those.

  “Master?” Alregon called, having just stepped across the threshold of the study.

  Merrik startled and bumped his head on the altar as he stood. “What is it, Al?”

  “You have a visitor.”

  “A visitor?” Merrik asked. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Lady Asra,” Alregon responded.

  He peeked out of his hole in the wall and gave Alregon a blank stare across the room. “And? What does she want?”

  “I didn’t ask. She just said she wished to speak with you.”

  Merrik looked at the stone bastard of a puzzle in front of him and then back to Alregon. “Oh, all right. I need to take my mind off this awhile anyway. Now come help me up.”

  Alregon walked over as Merrik rose to his feet. He attempted to help Merrik with his cane and to straighten his robes, but Merrik slapped his hands away.

  “Stop fussing over me,” Merrik said. “You’re a servant, not a wife.” Merrik made his way to the foyer
.

  As he walked there, his mind raced. He did his best to forget about the altar and the confounding pieces underneath, but he found it impossible. He had to wonder what Asra was doing here though. He hadn’t seen her in, what, three years now? They’d only seen each other sporadically for a year or so before that too. He wasn’t sure what she might want, but here was hoping it was something that could actually distract him.

  Merrik reached the foyer and saw Lady Asra standing there, gazing about the estate with a look of comfortable nostalgia. He pulled his sleeves down as far as they’d go to hide the dark purple spots that had formed on his arms of late.

  “Hey, Asra,” Merrik called as he limped into the room. “What brings you to this old pile?” He indicated the estate with a tilt of his head.

  Asra turned to look at Merrik. Her hair was more beautiful than he remembered. It was a straightened, dark black, and it hung just below her shoulders. It fell smoothly as she turned toward him. Her face was a deep bronze without blemish and with a grand smile on it. Merrik could smell her favorite cinnamon perfume playing in the air around her. Her smile was genuine, but it gained a hint of sadness after taking in Merrik’s appearance.

  “It’s so good to see you,” she said. “It’s been some time. I wanted to see if you were well. You haven’t been to cotillion in years now, and there’s been gossip that you generally haven’t been seen much at all outside the estate. Are things well?”

  Merrik tried, poorly, to protect his vulnerable pride with joviality. “Things are wonderful! I managed to make it to the toilet earlier, so I haven’t shit myself yet today. That’s always good news.”

  Asra forced a smile. “That’s great,” she said. “Perhaps you’d dine with me later this week, then? Perhaps on Cotjur evening? Or we could try for Senjur if that works better. We can catch up and also celebrate your accomplishment.”

  Merrik smirked. He’d forgotten what an easy friend Asra was. She could joke about the unpleasantness without a hint of pity. “Why not? I need a proper break from my work anyway. Cotjur will be fine.”

  “Great!” she exclaimed. “Come shortly after dusk, and I’ll make sure dinner is prepared by the time of your arrival.”

  Merrik raised his hand in concern.

  “Don’t worry,” she said with a grin. “I’ll make sure my chef prepares simple, bland foods.”

  Merrik’s hand fell and he smiled, this time genuinely and without thought or effort.

  “I’ll see you tonight, seigneur,” she said with a playful bow. And with that, she left.

  Alregon stood in the doorway to the study. “Shall I send for some new vestments for your visit?”

  “Yes, please,” Merrik replied, not bothering to turn and face him. “And draw me a bath if you would.” He stood still in a bit of shock. She truly was quite beautiful now. Although, why was she inviting him to dinner? Just catching up? Not likely. The two of them had both been close friends as children ten or fifteen years ago, but they were still both patrons. Nearly every action among the patronage had an ulterior motive, and this one was likely no different.

  “I’ll get things prepared immediately,” Alregon said, and he walked through the conservatory.

  Merrik returned to his study and grabbed the tome with the deep-blue binding from the alcove he’d been working in earlier. He sat down at one of his worktables and rifled through its many pages. Every time he looked at any of the books he’d found in that rear room, he marveled at their age. It was rare to see a book over a few hundred years old in any decent condition, even at Ryten’s historic library, which was easily the greatest library in all of the Commonwealth. But this book here was over a thousand years old. The original journals of Senrigal the Realmwalker himself. The origin of all the fairy tales putting kids to bed and teaching them morals all over the Commonwealth was from these very tomes sitting on his shelf. It was simply astounding.

  He remembered reading this for the first time in that dark alcove he’d accidentally created with one of his less successful chemical experiments. To read about Senrigal’s traversing worlds, getting into adventures, and displaying impeccable ethical fortitude was one thing, but to read a firsthand account of the worlds he visited and how he got there was something entirely different. Sitting here reading a master’s words speaking on portals to different worlds so eloquently… It didn’t sound real. But this journal had caught Merrik’s interest enough to provoke a profound obsession. He opened the book to the page he’d marked earlier with a feather.

  “I came to a most revered fellow in the lower citadel. I remembered what the ladies at the salicetum taught me, and I was most certain this individual was male. I gave him a grand hello, and he reluctantly saw to my wounds. He eyed the gash in my leg and poked at it with those little tendril arms of his. It didn’t feel good, but then he stopped poking and laid his arms over the cut. In just a few moments, my leg was like new. I gave a triumphant call of great pleasure, and I think I spooked him. I’d like to learn more about his craft, so I’m going to head back over there tomorrow and try to become fast friends with him.”

  He closed the book and sighed. As he stewed over how close yet how far he was, Alregon stepped across the threshold to inform him that his bath was prepared. He carefully closed the volume and grabbed his cane. He made his way to the conservatory, which led to his bathing room. In his attempt to forget about the altar for a while, he actually found himself appreciating the tranquility of his conservatory space. He quite forgot who tended to it these days—if Alregon cared for it himself or if he’d hired staff to do it—but it really was quite impressive. Perhaps once he could dig in the dirt without taking ill or being struck with allergies he would try fiddling around in here.

  The bath was still very hot when he arrived, which was perfect. He slipped into the water and relaxed. He imagined himself wielding wondrous power. He saw a man of great physical vigor, standing tall with a muscular chest and a full head of fantastic hair. He imagined himself a new pillar the Commonwealth could rally behind, even greater than Senrigal. Merrik would be the new household name.

  It was an exciting vision, and Merrik lost himself in it. As he lay in the tub, he sneezed hard. He noticed momentarily that the sneeze had caused his bowels to release in the tub. He knew he’d have to call for Alregon to change the bathwater again, but he couldn’t bring himself to fret just now. He was too lost in his daydream about finally ending these problems.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Fierd knelt near a tree and unpacked an old bow with some homemade arrows. He checked the string and tightened it before rubbing the wood a bit. It was such a simple invention, but it really was a beautiful thing. He tied a small makeshift quiver around his waist and dropped the arrows in it. “You wait here and I’ll hunt us some dinner. Game seems more plentiful this side of the Irenic, and I’m curious to bite into some new animals.”

  Karedess looked up at him curiously. “Can…can I come with you?”

  Fierd raised an eyebrow at her. “You want to come hunt? It’s bloody business. You sure you’re up for seeing a poor, defenseless animal killed and butchered?”

  “I’m not scared,” Karedess said, getting to her feet.

  He pursed his lips and gave her a hard look. “Ain’t a matter of fear. Killing something changes a piece of you, some more than others. Shouldn’t be something you look forward to.”

  Her determined expression wavered a bit.

  “Still, it’s a useful skill to know. Come on then.” Fierd rose and beckoned her to follow. “Take this bow. You want to hunt, you’ll be the one to shoot.”

  She took the bow and fiddled with it. It was a bit large and unwieldy for someone her size. She held it and experimented with her aim. It was going to be interesting to see her try it.

  “We’re not going to fight any bears, are we?”

  Fierd took a deep breath and gazed around them. “I sure hope not. We’ve got to be extra vigilant for them. At least all the great-bears live far to t
he north. Monstrous things, those.”

  They walked down the hill and trudged through the ankle-high mud. There wasn’t much snow around anymore, though there were still patches here and there. Fierd noticed there was a lot more foliage though. The trees had leaves and didn’t look like husks, and there were plants so bright and fragrant that sometimes he forgot how dirty and tired he was for just a moment. There were a lot more critters this far south, too. Rabbits and qinders were everywhere, and they even saw a wild ment or two. Karedess remarked on those, surprised at how different they looked from the one she kept as a pet at home.

  Fierd motioned for her to stop and get down close to the ground. He pointed ahead and whispered, “Big buck ahead.”

  Karedess looked around and squinted, trying to get a view of it.

  “Stay low. Stay quiet. We’ll sneak up a bit closer.” They stayed crouched as they rounded tree after tree.

  Karedess watched her feet and moved carefully. She was impressively cognizant of what they were doing. Maybe she’d do better on this hunt than he expected. Could she keep her composure when it came to taking down an animal though?

  Fierd stopped next to a tree and signaled her to stop as well. “Ready that bow and be prepared. Only get one shot before they run off.”

  “Here?” Karedess asked. “But we’re still so far away. Can’t we get a little closer?”

  “Any closer and we spook ‘em. Going to have to put him down from here.” He handed her an arrow from the quiver around his waist.

  She clumsily nocked it in the bow, her hand shaking quite a bit. She got low to the ground and aimed carefully. She drew the bow back and lined up the shot to hit the buck. She didn’t rush it, which was good. Too many beginners were eager to shoot quickly. She took deep breath after deep breath and then let loose the arrow. It flew at high speed right into the trunk of a tree not ten feet away from the two of them. The buck looked up, frightened, and began to take off into the woods.