Salvation (Scars of the Sundering Book 3)

by Hans Cummings

  To keep his thoughts from wandering into dark places, Kale continued installing the shelves under the counter with Kali’s assistance. They finished just before Delilah entered the shop.

  She locked the door behind her. “I think we should go downstairs.”

  “Ori’s not here.” Kale took his mate’s hand.

  “I feel safer talking about this in the cavern.” Delilah led them downstairs. Wind whistled through the cavern below the shop, fresh breeze blowing in from the chasm that bisected Muncifer. The sconces flared to life as Delilah passed them, an effect that always fascinated Kale. I wish they’d light up for me.

  After ensuring the defenses they erected were active, Delilah turned to her brother and his mate. “The archmage has cracked.”

  “What happened?” Kali squeezed Kale’s hand. He glanced at the dragon egg, still safe and sound where he secured it. I wish she wouldn’t say cracked.

  “He sent a letter to the archduke telling him he was going to eradicate all the draks in the city.” The drak sorceress leaned her staff against the wall near the egg, clasped her hands behind her back, and paced. Her tail lashed with each step.

  “What? Why would he do that? What did we… they do?” Kale scratched his head. Muncifer wasn’t the best place for a drak to live, but he sensed the general population didn’t want to run them in their entirety out of town.

  “I don’t know, Kale. But the archduke and I agree—we can’t let him do it.” She pulled the torn, wadded-up scroll from one of her pouches. “I’m going to confront him about it and challenge him.”

  Kali put her hand on Delilah’s arm. “Are you sure about this? He’s the archmage. Won’t the entire Arcane University back him up?”

  The drak sorceress shook her head. “It will be nice and legal according to the rules of the Arcane University and Mages Guild. I’ve been doing a lot of research about it. He’ll have no choice but to face me properly.”

  “I hope you’re right, Deli.” Kale pulled his wings in tight. “If you fail…”

  “If I fail, he’ll round up and kill every drak in Muncifer.” Delilah picked up her staff and glanced at her brother and his mate as she climbed the stairs. “So, I can’t fail. I’ll let you know when and where. When you hear from me, go to Grimstone Keep. Tell them who you are; the archduke should keep you safe until I’ve dealt with Archmage Manless.”

  Kali rested her head on Kale’s shoulder. “I hope she’s right.”

  “I have faith in my sister.” Kale took a deep breath. “She’s a good fighter, but maybe we should have a plan in case she loses.” The drak hated to consider the prospect of his sister losing but needed to consider his mate and the dragon egg’s safety. Both Delilah and Terrakaptis counted on him.

  ***

  On her way to see Archmage Vilkan, Delilah stopped at the Arcane University’s tavern, the Enchanter’s Focus, for a dose of liquid courage. For all her talk about the justification for her challenge, she honestly did not know if the high wizards would support her. If they didn’t, she stood a chance of being disintegrated right there in the Court of Wizardry.

  After quaffing a mug of strong ale, she strode across the common area toward the council chambers. Several students called out to her, but the drak waved to them without stopping.

  As always, the university’s seneschal, Lyov, manned his podium outside of the Court of Wizardry’s chambers. The old seneschal peered over the rims of his spectacles at the drak sorceress. “The court session hasn’t started yet.” He furrowed his brow. “I don’t recall the archmage sending for you, Apprentice.”

  She held up the scroll she had taken to the archduke. “He didn’t. I have urgent news—a response from the archduke.”

  The seneschal’s expression remained unchanged. “And this response merits the interruption of the Court of Wizardry?”

  Delilah resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the old man. “Can’t interrupt a meeting that hasn’t started.”

  The barest hint of a smile crept onto Lyov’s face. “Fair point. Go on in.”

  The drak sorceress nodded her appreciation and entered the court. To her dismay, most of the wizards were in attendance. Archmage Vilkan was engaged in a quiet, yet heated conversation with the violet-robed wizard. Though she could not see their faces behind their impassive masks, Delilah felt the eyes of several of the high wizards upon her. The gaze of the Brown, Red, and Yellow Wizards in particular followed her as she approached the archmage.

  He outstretched his hand when she stopped alongside him. She raised an eyebrow at it and cleared her throat.

  “Give me the archduke’s response, Apprentice.” He presented his hand again and glanced at the paper she carried.

  “His response was verbal, and he requested I deliver it to you before the court.” That wasn’t exactly what the archduke said. Delilah gambled on the fact that the archmage did not have spies or magical scrying devices located in the archduke’s private chambers.

  “Very well. If the archduke wishes to play games, I will indulge him for now.” He motioned to the Violet Wizard, and they took their respective seats on the dais. Delilah moved to the center of the assembly, licking her lips and trying to quell the flutter in her stomach.

  “In response to your letter”—Delilah held up the torn scroll—“the archduke has respectfully responded that he will do what he must.”

  She let the words hang in the air for a moment. The drak opened her mouth to continue.

  “That’s it?” Archmage Vilkan stood, clenching his fists. “That is all you came to tell me?”

  “Not at all, Archmage.” Delilah bowed her head. “He shared the contents of the letter with me.” She threw the scroll to the ground and impaled it with the butt of her staff. “I will not permit you to exterminate my people.”

  The archmage threw back his head and laughed. Delilah noted the high wizards in attendance directed their attention toward him, not her. “You will not?”

  “Draks are descendants of the Firstborne, the children of Gaia and Rannos Dragonsire. We are not ‘little more than vermin.’”

  “Be gone, Apprentice.” The archmage’s hand dropped to the wand at his waist. “I will discipline you in private.”

  She drew the broken wand from a pouch and cast it on the floor. “Look familiar? We found it in the lair of Pyraclannaseous. A Firstborne. She was dead, but the signs that a wizard had been there were clear. How curious the wand resembles yours.”

  Strands of aether flowed toward Archmage’s Vilkan’s wand as he drew it. Delilah raised her staff. “I challenge you, Archmage, to the Rite of Combat as enacted by Archmage Gerald the Craven in Arcane Rules: Civilized Magickry. I challenge you for crimes against draks and the murder of a Firstborne dragon!”

  “Renegade!” The blast from Archmage Vilkan’s wand stopped short, splashing against a shield erected around the drak by several of the high wizards simultaneously. They all stood, holding various arcane foci as they faced the archmage.

  “A challenge has been issued.”

  “Antiquated rules, but still effective and enforceable.”

  “Your apprentice has adhered to protocol. Will you break that covenant?”

  Archmage Vilkan drew himself up and slid his wand into his belt. He clenched his jaw as he glared at the assembled wizards before settling his hate-filled gaze on Delilah.

  “The Iron Crossroads. Tomorrow.” He gestured toward the door. “Be gone from university grounds. I declare you a renegade and hereby banish you from the Arcane University.”

  The Violet Wizard turned to Delilah. “You must confine yourself to the city.”

  The Brown Wizard nodded in concurrence. “Slayers will hunt you down should you now flee.”

  “Use your time wisely. Prepare… in whatever manner you choose.” The Red Wizard stepped down from the dais and approached Delilah. The high wizard picked up the torn scroll and read it.

  “This will be archived and entered into evidence.” The Red Wizard held
aloft the letter. “Should Archmage Vilkan emerge from the challenge victorious, I will call an inquiry into this matter.”

  From the corner of her eye, Delilah saw the Yellow Wizard gesture to her, encouraging her to leave. Delilah bowed to the Court of Wizardry, turned on her heels, and exited. Once the doors of the court shut behind her, she ran.

  As she crossed the university grounds, she scanned for Katka. The girl stood in the practice yard, destroying training dummies with lightning. She put her wand away when she saw the drak sorceress approaching.

  “Come to practice with me?”

  Delilah panted to catch her breath and shook her head. “I just challenged Manless to the Rite of Combat. Tomorrow at the Iron Crossroads.”

  Katka covered her mouth with her hands. Her eyes grew wide. “Tomorrow?”

  “Make yourself scarce. If I lose…” Delilah suspected Vilkan’s wrath would be as widespread as it was merciless.

  “I’m scheduled for my Novice Trials tomorrow. I can’t leave town.” The human’s voice trembled. “If I miss it, it could be months before they let me take it again.”

  “If I win, I’ll be archmage, and I’ll excuse you.” The drak put her hand on Katka’s arm. “If I lose, he’s going to come after you because you went with me to see the giants. At least make the slayers work for it.”

  Katka fell to her knees and pulled Delilah into a hug. “Don’t lose.”

  Chapter 5

  “I have good news, and I have bad news.” Delilah announced her presence as she entered Kale’s shop. She swore under her breath when she saw the storefront was empty and strode through it to the rear of the building where Kale and Kali made their home. Seated at the table in the kitchen, they examined Kale’s puzzle box. A cauldron sat near the hearth, bubbling and sizzling. The aroma of roasting meat wafted from it.

  “You should lock your door when you’re back here and that other drak’s not around.”

  “Ori.” Kali continued her examination of the box unabated. “Sorry, we forgot. We’ve gotten used to having him up front watching the store during the day.”

  “Did you say something when you came in, Deli?” Kale glanced up at his sister.

  “I said I have good news and bad news.” She pulled over the spare chair with her staff and joined them at the table. Since her last visit to their kitchen, Kale and Kali replaced the old chairs with furniture specifically designed to accommodate draks’ tails.

  “I issued the challenge.” The drak sorceress rested her chin on her hands as she eyed her brother. Better look at him all I can now; it might be my last chance. She glanced around the kitchen. Homey. This is really a home now. She felt a pang of envy and homesickness for Drak-Anor.

  “Is that the good news, or the bad?” Kali eyed Delilah over the top of the puzzle box.

  “That’s the bad news.”

  Kale scratched his head. “Well, we knew you were going to do that. What’s the good news?”

  “They didn’t kill me outright.” Delilah threw up her hands and smiled. “In fact, the high wizards made him stand down when he tried to murder me right there in front of all the assembled wizards of the Court of Wizardry. It happens tomorrow at the Iron Crossroads”

  “Oh, that’s… good?” A range of emotions crossed Kale’s face, and his sister understood he was confused whether he should be happy for her or worried. The drak sorceress wished she felt the mirth she wore on her face.

  “We’ve been busy while you were away.” Kali slid the puzzle box to the side so it didn’t block anyone’s view. “We scouted the quickest route to Grimstone Keep and to the nearest city gate from there.”

  “We’re packing up everything we can’t live without before we go there to watch the duel tomorrow.” Kale took his mate’s hand. “You know, in case you lose and we have to flee the city.”

  The orange drak turned her head toward her mate but turned her eyes toward Delilah. “Don’t lose. I like him how he is.”

  Kale’s eyes darted back and forth from his mate to his sister. “What do you mean?”

  Delilah understood. She reached across the table and took their hands in hers. “I think she’s worried about how you’ll react if I die, Kale. You know you’ll be a wreck.”

  “I… I wouldn’t… I…” Kale stared at the table. “Well, I might be.” He stared at his sister, tears welling in his eyes. “Don’t lose, Deli.”

  The drak sorceress squeezed her brother’s hand. “Don’t worry, Kale. You won’t have to have that conversation with Pancras and Sarvesh.” She pushed herself away from the table. “I need to prepare. I’ll see you after.”

  ***

  Kale found sorting through his possessions focused his mind away from Delilah’s impending peril. He believed his sister could win, but he was not immune to feelings of dread. Images of her twisted, burned, and dead body intruded into his idle thoughts. In the end, he found his daggers and his puzzle box were all that he really wanted, although Kali insisted he keep his hat with him.

  “It makes you look dashing.” She adjusted it on his head. “And makes you easy to pick out in a crowd of draks.”

  Kale spread his wings. “These don’t?”

  His mate smiled and nuzzled his cheek. “Sure, if you want to be obvious.”

  “I can’t really hide them.” To illustrate his point, Kale folded his wings in as close to his body as he could.

  Kali stroked his cheek. “Silly.” She nuzzled his neck again. “I know you’re worried. We’ll handle this together. No matter what happens.”

  “Yes.” Overcome with longing for days past, Kale recalled a time when he and his sister enjoyed no responsibilities apart from ensuring Drak-Anor’s defenses were maintained. No secret dragon eggs. No wizard duels. No minotaur crime bosses looking over their shoulders.

  “I’m ready, love.” Kali hugged him.

  Kale scanned the home they built. He and his mate put a lot of work into the old house over the last several months, and it felt like a home they built together, even if that wasn’t literally true. He found himself hoping that his sister was victorious more so that he wouldn’t have to leave behind all he’d built.

  The guilt at that thought gnawed at him. His thoughts were interrupted by a pounding at the front door. He glanced down the hallway, but could only discern irregular shapes through the shop window.

  When he answered the door, Boss Steelhand bowed in greeting, crossing his steel hand across his chest. “Good afternoon. May I come in?”

  The drak furrowed his brow and stepped aside to let the minotaur pass. “What do you want?”

  “Can’t I stop by for a visit while I’m in the neighborhood?” The black-furred minotaur glanced around the shop. “I’m surprised you’re closed.”

  “Ori…”—Kale stopped himself from lying outright to the minotaur—“my mate and I wanted some privacy, so we told Ori to take the rest of the day off.”

  “Ah… making little drakling, eh?” Boss Steelhand elbowed Kale in the ribs.

  “What? No, that’s not—”

  “No matter.” The minotaur tapped the top of the counter. “I actually have a message for you.”

  Kali entered from the back rooms. “I find it hard to believe you’re a messenger now.”

  Boss Steelhand spread his arms. “Just because I run the undercity doesn’t mean I don’t have other responsibilities. People think it’s all knocking heads and collecting kickbacks. They’re wrong.”

  Kale crossed his arms over his chest and spread his wings as Kali came to stand beside him. “So, what’s the message?”

  “Word of your sister’s machinations has spread, as well as her reason for challenging the archmage.”

  Kale’s heart sank. I never told him about Delilah. “I don’t… have—”

  “Oh, please.” Boss Steelhand tapped his temple with a metal finger. “I have eyes and ears all over town. Furthermore, I don’t care that you kept her from me. The ins and outs of your family aren’t my concern.” />
  “So, you know about Kale’s sister. So, what?” Kali tapped her foot, her claws clicking on the wood floor.

  “You may find this hard to believe, but I don’t want the draks run out of town. If the humans succeed at that, there is no doubt my folk will be next. We’ll all be rooting for your sister.”

  “That’s very nice, thank you.” Kale doubted the minotaur came all this way just to deliver that message.

  “If she fails, don’t do anything hasty.” Boss Steelhand clasped Kale and Kali’s shoulders. “The archduke won’t allow the archmage to have his way with us.”

  The minotaur winced as Kali gripped his hand. Kale noticed the point of her dagger pressed into the underside of Steelhand’s wrist. Her lips curled in a derisive snarl. “What’s your game?”

  Boss Steelhand’s eyes flicked to Kale’s mate. “You think a dagger at my wrist is going to kill me?”

  “I think I can bleed you enough that you’ll be stumbling around while my mate roasts you alive. That’s what I think.”

  The minotaur chuckled and then broke into an uproarious laugh. He lifted his hands away from the draks and kept them in the air as he stepped backward.

  Kali stepped forward, brandishing her dagger. “Think we’re funny, do you?”

  “You misunderstand. As outsiders, you don’t know what the undercity was like just five years ago. Crime ran rampant, and the streets ran red with minotaur and drak blood on a daily basis. It was civil war. Vilkan came in and cleaned up. Killed all the old bosses and put me in charge, with the archduke’s blessing, of course.”

  Kale rubbed the sigil on his chest. He pulled Kali toward him, and she lowered her weapon.

  The minotaur lowered his hands. “I have a reputation, even though Vilkan was responsible for most of it. Now, I don’t agree that draks need to be relegated to the undercity. It was a bad time, for lots of reasons, but those bad apples are gone. Vilkan seems to think he didn’t go far enough. I disagree, the archduke disagrees, and your sister disagrees. The archduke and I support her.”