Rina shrugged.
“I know what I'm supposed to do. I'm the striker.”
“Yes,” said Uigara, “and if you don't hit the governor on time, you may not make it out before Deckard Hadrian returns.”
“I can fly as well as Deckard can,” said Rina.
“I doubt that,” said Folt. “The immortal is a master of the wind.”
“He’s right,” said Uigara. “You must be careful, Rina, or you won't escape.”
“I'll do what I must and I won't let any old immortal catch me.” Rina grinned.
“Remember, he fears fire,” said Folt.
“Why is that?” asked Heen.
“Not many know,” said Folt. “And I'm one of them.
“I will be more than happy to attack Deckard my self if we can’t distract him,” said Saben. “I owe that man a duel.”
Folt rolled his eyes.
“You don't owe him anything, boy,” he said.
Ben grimaced at him.
“Don’t like I called you boy?” Folt said. “Well, I’m the one leading the mission.”
“For now,” said Uigara.
Folt shrugged.
“I'm glad to have you all on board but gold rides. That means taking the governor down takes priority. If we disrupt things enough, we should get plentiful rewards. Rina's job is to take care of the governor. The rest of us make that possible.”
“Quite,” said Uigara.
They all looked at Rina. She bounced the ball off the wall one more time, then smiled. Her teeth looked inhumanly vicious.
“I'll take care of her.”
“Take magic from the governor,” said Folt. “That’s the heart of our mission. Take out as many mages as possible but don't slow down until we reach the governor. Then, everyone leave as quickly as you can.”
“Understood,” said Uigara.
Saben nodded, feeling grim.
Folt grinned.
“The night can't come soon enough.”
Melissa
She went with Lord Tanlos to look for Elaine in the study. When they arrived, the room was empty. Neither Lady Nasibron or Elaine was inside. Books and scrolls everywhere told of a room well-used since Lady Nasibron’s arrival.
Lord Tanlos glanced at Melissa. She shrugged.
“Forgive me,” she said, “I thought they’d be here.”
“We need to find them,” said the knight.
“Perhaps the governor can help us,” said Melissa.” She seems to know everything that goes on within these walls.”
“A good idea,” said Lord Tanlos. “Let’s find her.”
“She's in her council hall waiting on petitions.”
“Petitions,” said Lord Tanlos. “Lead on.”
They moved toward the central halls, descending to the ground floor. The palace was built like a wheel with just a few spokes. On the outside the walls were circular, but within, different wings of the palace spread from the center. Those wings never quite touched the outer wall, except for the bell tower on the southeast wing.
Melissa and Lord Tanlos found the governor in the council hall. She sat upon her throne, watching the servants and petitioners below her. The governorship of Lowenrane and the princedoms to the north were not always friendly to travelers but armies rarely marched so far south, leaving these districts relatively isolated. Most princes did not appreciate armies marching through their land, even Mother Mercy's forces. Thus, the governor remained a vital position in adjudicating disputes across the southlands.
Mother Mercy rules all of Tancuon but who rules below her is who commands physical power.
The governor nodded to a petitioner who had been speaking. The petitioner backed away, bowed, and then left the room. She held a hand to stop the next man from coming forward, then ushered Lord Tanlos and Melissa closer with a wave of her hand. She allowed them close to the throne.
Governor Lokoth turned toward them.
“You are Lord Tanlos if I’m not mistaken,” she said.
He nodded.
“I have the honor of holding that title.”
“If you're looking for your daughter,” said the governor, “you may be out of luck for the moment. Lasy Nasibron and Elaine went into the city.”
Lord Tanlos bowed.
“Thank you, governor.”
“Of course,” said the governor. “Lady Nasibron told me they were looking for supplies for training.” She turned Melissa. “Elaine has been demanding more tools for practice.”
Melissa smiled and bowed her head.
“The better to serve you, governor.”
“I appreciate that. Commendable.” Governor Lokoth said.
“Mages,” said Lord Tanlos. “I will never understand how you twist the laws of the sprites and banes the way you do. Even Lady Nasibron, though I've known her for many years, still surprises me with her powers.”
“Don’t dismiss non-mages.” Governor Lokoth’s lip curled in a slight smile.
“I do not,” he said. “Though, with my order’s insistence on training our sprites to enhance muscles and fortitude, I am more studied than most in their application.”
“I gave up my studies,” said the governor. “I remember little of them now.”
“That’s so?” said Melissa.
The governor nodded to her.
“Have you learned much so far?”
“Yes, governor.”
“Lady Nasibron is a fine teacher.”
“She is,” said Melissa. “And I’ve received much help from her niece as well.”
“Elaine is a skilled, more than I ever was,” said Governor Lokoth.
Lord Tanlos beamed at the governor.
“Thank you. Many need their petitions heard today. Thank you for accepting me as a guest in these blessed halls.”
The governor nodded to him and Melissa.
“Thank you for the brief diversion.”
Lord Tanlos turned with Melissa and left the council hall. They went out to the palace grounds and watched for Elaine and Lady Nasibron to return.
Elaine
Lady Nasibron and Elaine made their way through the mage market, a darker side of Soucot’s repression by the magister’s guild. Despite the tension with Kanor, the magic trade from the East remained strong in the city thanks to the guild’s control overtraining. Elaine spotted more than one strange device from distant nations like Tenok and Edede.
Indeed, Elaine had not suspected such magical treasure was traded under the nose of the governor, the guild, and the temple. The Church of Mercy did not approve the sale of devices from other lands. Those devices, infused with sprites and banes could be used by ordinary mortals, even without much magic training. They could accomplish almost any task a mage could as a group, though each one was specialized.
Trained sprites and banes in cages, books and scrolls covered in spell text, artifacts from the distant lands, and everything a mage might imagine to become more powerful adorned the building on the floor beneath the street. The basement made for an uncommon site in Soucot, given the local water table’s height. The shopkeeper’s wares here were less than legal in most parts of Tancuon.
Lady Nasibron moved deftly among the display tables of artifacts and magical texts. Her hands never touched anything unless she picked up a device to examine more closely. She stayed studiously clear of nearly everything in the building but the books she approached to peruse before asking a price. Elaine followed her aunt dutifully, not recognizing nearly as many artifacts as her aunt must. Despite studying the scrolls and texts of mage craft, she was more nervous about the foreign artifacts.
In the lands of mercy, magic was the purview of anyone who could afford it. In the far the east, who could say what went into crafting those devices?
Elaine followed the small lantern lights above as they entered a small room at the end of the basement. Lady Nasibron took the shopkeeper aside for a moment to talk privately. She motioned for Elaine to stay back.
She wait
ed patiently outside the little room, looking at would-be mages moving among the collection of knowledge and power. Her gaze lingered on one man with the half-moon mask haloed by a pair of sprite circled his head. He was built large, more thickly muscled than Deckard Hadrian, but more stocky. His frame was covered by heavy metal and robe.
She could see little of the man beyond his build but could sense his sprites’ songs. How ostentatious, while in secret to extend one’s sprites beyond one's body. Could he be doing that for show?
Elaine wondered if the strange man was indeed simply out to prove something, or was lighting his way with sprites. The room was dimly lit and some mages preferred to see by the luminescence of their essence.
Elaine heard of such mages before. What Elaine had never heard before was the dissonant song within him. Every step he took he dislodged some magical residue. Artifacts he passed flickered with their silvery metallic sides or flared gemstones. Something must be off in his magic.
Elaine frowned as she watched the man. His face, almost entirely hidden behind the crescent moon mask clearly could not be an ordinary human, but she suspected he must be a mage. She sensed many sprites and banes singing within him, and everything she detected resonated as taut and trained as any she essence she ever encountered before. Even Deckard, Hadrian lacked this kind of strange symphony. What kind of man, especially a mortal man, could display that kind of power within?
Elaine’s curiosity made her take a step forward. She hesitated. I’m only waiting for my aunt.
She watched as the man-made his way slowly through the room, agitating every device as he passed. He approached the curtain to door to the small room where Lady Nasibron was talking with the shopkeeper. He stopped beside Elaine.
She turned to the man.
“It'll be just a little while, my aunt is talking with the shopkeeper inside.”
“Is that so?”
His voice was unctuous and warm. He glowed with energy, but not the kind she expected from a man in a mask. He seemed magnetic, perhaps electric lightning caught in human form. His eyes roved to see her, gray, almost silvery like the metal used to craft magical instruments. Within the center of each eye, glowed a yellowish hue resembling the shape of crescents.
“Excuse me,” said Elaine, face heating up. “The shopkeeper and my aunt are speaking privately.”
“I understand,” said the man. “And who are you?”
Elaine’s breath caught. She stared at the man, though might as well lack a form from what she could see, her attraction to him grew with each pulse in her veins. He was a storm from his build, powerful and consuming and as mysterious as the moon with his mask and his beautiful eyes.
“Who are you, first?” she asked.
The man smiled.
“My name is Lakses.”
“Lakses?” Elaine said, “is that a foreign name?”
“Indeed it is,” said Lakses. “I've come from far away. I traded a camel to a shipping company in Naje to travel here.”
“A camel,” said Elaine, “Why a camel?”
Lakses’ smile stretched beyond the edge of his crescent mask.
“I only traded it because it was all I had. I hope they treat the animal as well as the beast served me,” he said. “As you can tell, I have traveled long to reach this place once more.”
“Have you been to Soucot before?”
Lakses nodded.
“I have seen many shores, the world over, but the shores of Charin are among the finest in the world, especially by moonlight.”
“Moonlight?”
“Indeed. I am, after a fashion, a creature who enjoys a good evening out.” Lakses smiled. “You look like a woman who understands what she wants,” he said. “Is your aunt the same?”
“Not today. She seems to be more drifting and browsing at the moment.”
“I thought as much.”
“Do you know my aunt?”
“Only by reputation,” said Lakses. “She is a witch heralded across the lands of mercy.”
Elaine smiled, unable to speak.
Lakses’ gleaming magnetism, his lunar electrical current, became overpowering. He appeared so unlike the men and boys Elaine found herself attracted to before. He only looked at her.
“We've spoken of your aunt,” he said. “Perhaps we should talk more about you later.”
She flushed.
“I don't know what you mean.”
“I think you do,” he said.
Her faced burned.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Again,” he said, “I think you know. Meet me at the docks when the moon is out in full.”
“Tonight?” asked Elaine.
“Tomorrow night,” said Lakses. “The moon will be full tonight as the month reaches its zenith.”
“So.” Elaine breathed. “Tomorrow?”
“Moonlight provides the most romantic atmosphere cast upon the world.”
“You think that?”
“I know it. You could probably guess my proclivities for the moon, given my attire.”
She nodded, flushed and excited. This magnetic man gazed at her, and not just looked but talked and probed.
“I'll try to meet you there.”
Lakses nodded.
“I think you will.”
He tapped the side of the table near them with one hand. The magical Kanori device lit up and jumped half a span off the table. The mystic device settled on the curtain of air.
Elaine caught the floating instrument, then set it on the table. When she looked up, Lakses was gone.
Melissa
Elaine and Lady Nasibron returned to the palace, bearing scrolls and books. All of the texts were new to Melissa, but she could tell by the scroll cases that something was different about them, more than their recent acquisition.
Lady Nassibron nodded to Lord Tanlos. When Elaine saw her father, she ran forward to greet him. She held her scrolls close to her chest as she reached him. She pushed the cases toward Melissa. Melissa took the scrolls from her with a smile. Her friend wrapped her arms around the knight’s neck.
“Father,” Elaine said, “you traveled so far. And so fast.”
“I brought news to the governor,” said Lord Tanlos. “And I wanted to see you.”
“I wondered when I would receive your next letter,” said Elaine.
Melissa laughed.
“He preferred to come himself.”
“I sent Caferis ahead of us,” said the knight. He smiled at Elaine, then touched her cheek gently with his hand.
“You and your new friend are going to make excellent mages, but for the moment we must be careful about the vakari across the bay.”
Lady Nasibron approached them, holding a book under each arm. They were large and heavy tomes, filled by scrolls, rather than ordinary pages.
She turned to Lord Tanlos, smiling.
“Your daughter has indeed been an able assistant, as well as a fine student of late.”
Elaine glanced at lady Nasibron, cheeks reddening.
“Thank you, teacher, but I'm only doing my best.”
“Of course but you're doing better than ever.”
Melissa helped Lady Nasibron take one of the books from under her arm. She offered the book to Lord Tanlos as Elaine released the knight.
“Sorry for treating you as a beast of burden, my lord,” said Melissa. “But, I'm somewhat weighed down.”
Lord Tanlos took the book from her with a smile.
“It’s no issue.”
The three of them went into the palace, and joined Lord Tanlos’ squadron of knights, all from his order who had arrived from the north that day. They and the mages of the governor ate in the governor's feast hall that night.
Deckard
Deckard followed the trail, tracing the merchant’s dealings by day and his acquisitions by night.
He spotted the man with the glasses more than once. The skinny mortal seemed intent on annoying him. The local Souco
t man never looked at him but Deckard suspected he didn’t need to, as a mage.
The man’s name Deckard had yet to hear. His lack of presence made him a difficult one to track. Deckard suspected the man helped bring the dog demon, Baor, to the surface. The hound demon told Deckard more earlier in the afternoon. Baor insisted that the boat leaking near the docks was the home of a dangerous crew without ever directly saying as much. He continuously pointed back to the boat and mentioned a man with glasses throughout their conversation.
The man with the glasses stood on the corner, waiting in the gathering gloom. The street lamps sent his glasses glimmering with reflections. The shapes of people moving in the night passed before his concealed eyes. Deckard gliding in circles over the street. He could maintain his altitude, almost indefinitely with a proper breeze. Tonight, the air was cloying and still except when manipulated. He would be more noticeable than usual.
The man below, was a fierce wielder of magic, judging by his suppressed song. Most wizards never bother learning to suppress so well. The song of sprites, could not often be hidden from a trained ear.
Their light, their presence, their scents could all be hidden. Their distinctive songs proved more challenging to conceal.
Deckard descended, circling, and then landed on the rooftop near the man’s corner, shifting his weight to touch down silently. The man continued to wait. Deckard watched him as he would until the man grew tired. The advantages of being an immortal who never slept were many. The advantage his nature provided while prowling was the ability to wait.
The man, having abused a weak demon, could be a threat to the city. Deckard didn’t yet know why, but he knew to look for interlopers. Though the man with the glasses appeared to be a local he also appeared suspicious.
Smoke wafted from the chimneys of the blacksmith to the east, choking the air overhead. So far from the docks, a blacksmith operating late at night was unusual. Someone must have a rush order, a sword or piece of armor, had to be forged before daylight.
Deckard turned his face from the clouds of smoke. He gazed to the west, where the palace loomed across the river. Despite all the problems that in Soucot he’d begun to like the place again. Memories of the war with Kanor seemed less vivid in the dark.
Soucot was not the Chos Valley and nowhere near Well Country. Deckard found relief in being far from the region he considered home and the people he considered enemies
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