by Matthew Wolf
DARIUS RUSHED TO GRAY’S SIDE, HELPING him to his feet. Ayva stood as well. They were both beaten up—Ayva had a bruise upon her cheek, and cuts and scrapes marred Gray’s arm as if he’d just been tossed down a rocky hillside, but all in all, it was nothing serious. How did we survive that?
Faye, Darius remembered, turning. She still sat at the bar, sipping her drink and puffing smoke from his pipe as if nothing had happened. She had turned around now and was sizing up the room.
Both the Devari and the stranger had engaged in some sort of epic angry staring contest, and both seemed to be winning and losing. Darius looked towards the backdoor, wanting more than anything to not be involved in that. Quietly, he tugged on Gray’s arm. “Let’s get out of here before…”
“No one else leaves,” the Devari declared.
“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” Faye replied coolly. “But I am curious as to why a Devari is in this cursed place. The Citadel’s presence, sadly, does not extend to Shadow’s Corner. You are a far away from your home. Perhaps even more so than those three,” she said, nodding in their direction. “And they at least are fools who don’t know any better.”
Darius wanted to be angry, but a part of him agreed with her. They were over their heads. Far over their heads, and he was the one who had got them into it. Great, now I’m playing the dicing hero. Darius saw Gray. He looked as if in a trance, gazing at the Devari.
“You let them all get away…” the copper-eyed young man seethed. “I needed that fool, Adorry, and you released him without even a care.”
“He was not yours to keep,” the Devari said.
“Nor yours to send away!”
“I see your pain, but your anger is blinding you. Or do you really think that man would have aided you? He would have led you to The Lair of the Beast and then fed you to the beast itself. If you think otherwise, then you are a fool.”
The stranger still shook with anger, but he seemed to see reason. At last he gave a thin, hard sigh. “It was my only chance…”
“Your only chance for what?” Gray asked suddenly.
All turned to him.
The stranger eyed him curiously, his copper eyes narrowing. “To save a life.”
“Whose life?” Ayva asked gently.
“What’s it to you?” he replied, without turning.
“Please, perhaps we can help,” Ayva insisted.
Raising a dubious brow, Darius tugged on her sleeve, but she didn’t flinch. Ayva! What are you thinking? he growled inwardly. Isn’t one impossible mission enough?
The stranger looked to Ayva, and some of his fire seemed to visibly dissipate, but his voice was still cold. “My sister’s.” Darius dropped his hand and swallowed. The others looked uncertain as well. That explains his anger.
“We can still save your sister, Zane,” the Devari answered.
“How… How do you know my name?”
Slowly, the Devari pulled back his hood. Darius winced, repressing the urge to look away. Sharp blue eyes were the only true feature on the Devari’s face. The rest of it was hideously scarred. It shone in the inn’s pitiful light, bone-white. Some parts were smooth and taut, looking almost unharmed, while others were twisted and overlapping like tight strands of rope.
Zane gasped. “You…”
“Victasys,” he said, nodding his scarred head in introduction.
The fiery young man looked rattled by the Devari before him. “How did you survive?”
“It’s a long story,” Victasys replied.
“I’d be willing to hear it,” Faye called casually from the bar, puffing smoke.
Darius’ head swiveled in confusion. “Wait, you two know each other?”
“He saved my life,” Zane stated.
“At nearly the cost of my own,” the Devari replied.
“I…” Zane hesitated, the fury in his eyes faltering. He held the man’s gaze with difficulty. “I’m sorry for whatever you had to endure, but I never asked for it.”
Victasys’ eyes hardened. “I didn’t do it for you.”
“Then why?”
“I saved your life because Sithel was wrong. You just happened to be in the center of it,” the man answered matter-of-factly. “And I did not say it to garner sympathy or to guilt you. But if I had to choose again, I would do the same. That it nearly cost me my life was simply the truth.”
“And they just let you go after all of that?” Zane asked.
“No, I’m no longer a part of the Citadel, nor truly a Devari.”
Faye laughed, amused. “Then that was a grand bluff indeed, ‘might of the Citadel!’ I never knew Devari had a sense of humor.”
“We don’t.”
Darius almost laughed, but his mirth perished at the look in the man’s eyes. His scarred face hadn’t shifted. His laughter died in his throat. No one in the room moved. He looked around, confused, as Victasys eyed Faye like a viper. She merely sat upon her stool, legs crossed, puffing quietly. “You still have yet to answer me,” she pressed. “Why did you enter Maris’ Luck, Devari? Do you have a death wish?”
He snorted. “No one would kill a Devari.”
“They might try.”
“Not if they value their lives.”
She sniffed. “Ah, but many don’t.”
Zane stepped forward, gripping the Devari’s arm, interrupting the two. “Enough bickering. Victasys, you said you know a way to save Hannah… to save my sister. Please, what is it?”
The Devari sheathed his blade, the fire winking out as he slammed it home. “The Lair of the Beast is a breeding ground for evil. It is the home of Darkeye’s Clan. That you attempt to venture there is tantamount to suicide.”
“Then you’re of no use and I go alone.” Zane moved to the door.
Victasys moved, seizing Zane’s shoulder, stopping him. “I did not say I would not go. But walking into the The Lair of the Beast without a plan will be certain death. I’ve already been brought back from the brink once—I do not wish it again.”
“How did you survive?” Zane asked.
Victasys’ eyes seemed to glaze in memory. “I owe my life to one man, a wielder of the spark the likes I’ve never seen before. He saved me when I was but a breath from the grave. His name was Ezrah.”
Gray choked, stepping forward. “Ezrah? Are you sure?”
“Why do you ask? And who are you?” the Devari questioned gruffly.
“My name is Gray, and please,” he insisted.
“I’m certain,” Victasys said. “I would never forget a man like that.”
“Isn’t that…?” Ayva whispered, casting a subtle look to Darius.
Darius nodded mutely. Gray’s grandfather, he thought in astonishment.
“Where is he?” Gray asked, having crossed the distance between the two.
“How do you know him?”
“He is my grandfather.”
Victasys looked astounded, though it was difficult to tell on his face.
“He’s your grandfather?” Zane repeated.
Gray nodded.
“He saved me too,” the blond-haired man confessed, “I got myself into a bit of trouble after stealing gold from Darkeye’s men. To avoid them, I jumped into a procession of Devari and Reavers. Looking back, it was a fool’s move, but my hide was saved when a man came forward claiming to be my father. It was your grandfather. He makes a strong impression.” The heat in his voice went from anger to admiration.
Gray smiled. “I don’t know him well, but I’ve a feeling that sounds about right.”
“I’m going to make a guess,” Faye said. “That this man, this Ezrah, is how a Devari ended up in this abysmal place.”
“A good guess,” Victasys said.
“It was less of a guess I suppose and more of an elimination of possibilities,” Faye replied. “I’ve never seen a Devari down here, nor had those men, which by the way was likely the only reason your little stunt worked.”
Victasys smiled for the first time, taut skin
twisting. “The power of confusion is never to be underestimated.” Darius grunted agreeably to himself, knowing that all too well from his gambling misadventures.
Gray touched the Devari’s arm, turning him. “Please, what did Ezrah say to you?”
“Very little. We met in secret. He healed me, and then helped me escape before Sithel returned to finish what he’d started. I was under constant watch from Jian, so it wasn’t easy, but Ezrah knew exactly where to go. With the use of a hidden transporter, I escaped.” Transporter? Jian? Sithel? What is he talking about? Darius wondered. The man continued, “Once we got out of the Citadel, he gave me strict orders to visit an inn called Maris’ Luck and stop what he named ‘a battle of wind and fire’. He didn’t know when, only that something would happen. I sensed that he was entrusting me with the lives of those he cared about. I sensed his compassion, and that is why I am here, answering your questions…” Victasys scratched his jaw and growled, “Of course, the next time you can tell your grandfather a timeline would be nice. For days I’ve been coming here, dealing with these foul folk.”
“Wind and fire…” Gray repeated, “Those words sound like prophecy.”
“You mean to say that your grandfather knew this battle was going to happen all along?” Darius whistled through his teeth. “Why do I have the feeling that every bit of this was set up? Like a card game, and Ezrah knows all the hands…”
Gray’s eyes grew cold. “You’d be right, Darius, save for the fact that he is in chains and being tortured.”
Darius cleared his throat.
Nearby, the others tensed.
“How do you know this?” Zane asked fervently.
“I’ve seen it,” Gray answered, his gaze distant. “I saw him held captive by a group of Reavers within the Citadel.”
“Then someone is one step ahead of Ezrah, pulling the strings,” Ayva declared, moving to stand at Gray’s side.
“Perhaps it’s Sithel,” Zane said, looking to Victasys.
“Who is this Sithel character anyway?” Darius questioned, flipping over a nearby chair that wasn’t broken and sitting on it backwards. He sheathed his sword and stuffed his dagger away, resting his arms on the chair’s back.
“I’m not sure where he came from,” Victasys said. “He just showed up recently and started commanding others. Reavers listen to him, and so do many Devari. I couldn’t sense the spark on him, but he seems powerful.”
Zane made a disgruntled sound.
“What is it?” Gray asked.
“Are you sure you saw what you saw?” Zane replied. “That your grandfather is in danger?
“I only wish I was wrong. Why do you doubt it?”
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?” he asked curiously.
“Ezrah, your grandfather, he is an Arbiter,” Zane said.
Darius was just confused, watching the others’ reactions of confusion and awe. Victasys seemed thoughtful, nodding, while Ayva’s eyes split wide as if she’d been bitten by a snake.
Faye was more adamant than all. She strode forward. “Who told you this?” she asked.
“A friend,” Zane said, emotion wracking his voice. “He’s dead. But before he died, he told me Ezrah was an Arbiter. He was old. His mother as a girl had watched the man’s promotion to the rank of Arbiter. How did you not know this?” he asked, looking to the Devari.
“Aside the fact that I’m new in town, the identity of Arbiter is generally kept a mystery. All know that the Patriarch is the most powerful and highest ranking, and only recently, with the kidnapping of young boys, has Arbiter Fera revealed herself. But the identity of the rank two Arbiter has always been a mystery. But when he saved me I should have known. There was an aura about him… I’ve never seen such power. That he is taken…” Even the Devari looked fearful, and that scared Darius more than the rest.
“Mind filling us in on what an Arbiter actually is for those who aren’t from Farbs?” Darius voiced.
Ayva answered. “Arbiters are the most powerful wielders of the spark. The Citadel is split up into ranks of those who wield magic. Neophytes, then Reavers, and finally Arbiters—there are only three Arbiters in existence.” He thanked Ayva, glad someone was filling in the blanks.
“This is ominous news…” Victasys whispered.
Darius looked to Faye. She seemed oddly silent now, watching the others.
“Why isn’t the whole Citadel in an uproar if the second most powerful wielder of the spark is missing?” Gray asked.
“Precisely because only a rare handful even know of his identity, let alone know where he is or how to reach him,” Victasys explained. “It is a means of protection for the most powerful against those who would attempt to seize their place.”
“What do you mean?” Gray asked.
The Devari waved the matter off. “We do not have time to give you three a whole lesson on the Citadel and its division of hierarchies. Suffice it to say that power is everything within the black walls.”
Ayva spoke, “You mean to say that, if one were to gain more power in the spark than even the Patriarch, then he or she would become an Arbiter of the highest rank?”
“She catches on quick,” Victasys said in admiration.
“Of course,” Faye replied. “Ayva is—or was—my pupil. My Diaon.” The way she said it, sounded like Victasys’ compliment was meant for Faye rather than Ayva. Ayva’s jaw grit, and she stared daggers at the woman, but she said nothing.
Gray spoke. “That makes sense why the Citadel isn’t in an upheaval at least, but still, who could take down the second most powerful man in all of Farhaven?”
Darius had pulled out his dagger and was spinning it in his palm as he listened. But at Gray’s words, the dagger wavered, nearly falling. Even Darius didn’t know what all this Reaver-Arbiter-Devari business meant in full. Sure he was quick to gather whom to fear, and wisely so, but the second most powerful man in all of Farhaven? He shivered.
“This news means more than you know,” Victasys proclaimed, his scarred hand tightening around his sword’s pommel. “I’ve been hearing dark rumors of the Citadel breaking, of Reavers turning to the dark. This Sithel and the Reavers whom he keeps as pets are the beginning. I fear that the Citadel, my home, is on the verge of war.”
“With whom?” Darius asked.
“Itself,” Victasys said.
“Then how can no one see it, this rising darkness?” Gray asked.
“Others see it,” he admitted. “Many of my order are worried. But it’s been building slowly for years. Reavers growing darker, learning more forbidden arts, Devari ignoring the codes, and more—the whole keep, despite its dark façade, was once a shining bastion of peace, Reavers meant peace; now Devari are dreaded, and Reavers are demons. The Citadel has become a den of iniquity.”
There was a silence as it sunk in. Darius scratched at the hairs on his arm that stood on end. “It’s true…” Zane said. “I’ve seen the darkness spreading.”
“It’s just like what we heard in every inn and tavern,” Gray said, hand tightening on Morrowil. “The world is darkening.”
“The Patriarch must be warned,” Victasys announced abruptly.
“And who would tell him? A banished Devari? A thief? Me?” Darius questioned, gripping his dagger tighter. “Not to mention, if this Patriarch is as grand as you all make him sound, I very much doubt a single one of us could even get close enough to touch his highness’ bathwater.”
“Interesting way of putting it,” Faye remarked, nose wrinkling. “But I’m in agreement with the rogue for once. Ezrah must be saved first. Only he can undo the darkness of the Citadel, and from the inside out. At the very least, he may be able to warn the Patriarch.”
“Then what must we do?” Ayva asked.
“We have to save him,” Gray said.
Zane rumbled, shaking his head as if breaking a spell. “No, your grandfather can wait.” He looked to Victasys. “How do I get into The Lair of the Beast, Devari?”
>
Victasys grimaced. “Sadly, I do not know a way in, but I will help you if I can. But the truth is they will likely kill us as soon as we enter their borders. A Devari can still hold sway within the Shadow’s Corner, but the Citadel holds no sway in The Lair of the Beast. Not unless we bear the bloodshot eye.”
Gray spoke, “Wait, you can steal those badges, can’t you?”
“That’s easy,” Zane said, smiling at last.
“A start,” Victasys admitted.
“I can gather them. I know where to look without drumming up any questions about missing members of their order. Any other good ideas?” Zane asked.
“Perhaps we can gain entrance as newcomers seeking to join Darkeye’s clan,” Gray posed. “With a thief name and a decent background…”
Zane looked hopeful and Victasys rubbed his chin, nodding.
Darius scratched his head. It sounded feasible, but could it really be that easy?
“It won’t work,” Faye said. “It’s a start—but that’s all it is. Breaching The Lair of the Beast is no simple feat. Darkeye is many things, but he is not a fool.”
“How would you know? It could work,” Ayva insisted.
“It won’t. First off, there are passcodes, secret tunnels, and a hundred other traps that none but an initiated clan member would know. And even if you get past those, to get to where you want to go—the heart of the Lair—you would need officer clearance, and no silly badge will work for that. You’ll need Darkeye’s Mark. Besides, those men aren’t brainless pawns like the rest. You saw Adorry Droverson. They’re smart and deadly, and he’s the runt of the litter. They’ll see through your ruse before you can bat an eye and kill you before you draw a drop of blood.
“And even then, if by some cursed miracle you get through all that, you’ve forgotten the best part! If your sister is held within the prison, you’ll have to confront Darkeye himself, for that is the heart of his home.”
Victasys gave a breath, looking troubled. “She speaks the truth.”
“Of course I do. I’m not a nitwit like all of you,” Faye said with a final huff.
“I can take Darkeye,” Zane announced.
Faye laughed, but Zane flashed her a fiery look, and she merely rolled her eyes.