Mystic: A Book of Underrealm

by Garrett Robinson

  “Let me go!” said Annis.

  Xain tightened his arm around her throat to silence the girl.

  Loren said, “You have gone mad, Xain. You would threaten the life of a child? Her parents love her no less than you love your own son.”

  “Her parents are serpents who kill without blinking. How many others have they robbed of fathers, mothers, daughters, and sons? Taking their child is fair play. Even so I will not do it—unless you force me. If I suspect your pursuit, the girl dies and I keep the stones for myself.”

  Loren stomped the ground hard enough to hurt her foot. A useless gesture, but she was at her end. “You will not leave again! You abandoned me on the King’s road and tried to leave again in Cabrus. I will not let you disappear a third time, nor do I believe you would kill her.”

  “You doubt my resolve?”

  “I doubt you are heartless.” Loren knew it was a risk, and yet she stepped closer. The wizard tensed but did not move. “You are callous and a terrible liar. And incredibly, stupidly stubborn, yes. But you would not harm a child. You are not a murderer, and I know it to be true. Please, Xain, end this madness.”

  He slowly shook his head. “You know little, believe easily, and assume so very much. A dangerous brew. Did you take my tale for true when I told you what happened on the High King’s Seat? I did not stir up some mage’s duel, Loren of the family Nelda. The constables hunted me for murder.”

  Loren felt her heart stop. “No. You said . . .”

  “I told you a lie. And you believed it. If you still doubt my conviction—“

  His eyes glowed as he whispered a word. Glowing white flames came to life on his finger. He pressed the finger to the side of Annis neck, and Loren heard the sizzle of flesh.

  Annis screamed, her legs kicking. Still, Xain held her up with an arm wrapped around her throat.

  “Stop!” screamed Loren. “Stop it, Xain!”

  Xain withdrew his finger, and Annis fell whimpering into his arms. “If you follow me, I will not hesitate. Goodbye, Loren of the family Nelda, and may we never meet again.”

  Xain backed slowly away, and Loren could only watch him go. He vanished around the corner.

  The wizard was gone, and Annis with him.

  twenty-eight

  LOREN TURNED BACK, WANTING TO ask Gem for directions, hoping someone could tell her what to do in this impossible situation. Instead, she saw Vivien struggling to her feet, shaking her head and looking around.

  “What happened?” Vivien’s words were slightly slurred. “Where did he go?”

  “He vanished,” said Loren, her voice shaking. “And he has taken Annis.”

  Vivien walked to Loren’s side and looked down the street to where the wizard had fled. “Nonsense. Even a firemage as powerful as Xain cannot disappear. That magic does not exist, and that means we can find him.”

  “But how? He holds Annis hostage. He said if he catches me following him, he will kill her.”

  Vivien’s lips pursed, as though she had bitten into a lemon. “And do you believe him?”

  Loren nodded. “He pressed a finger of fire into her neck. She screamed as I have never heard her.”

  “Still, we may take him unawares. Sky above, where is Jordel?”

  “Loren!” Gem ran up to them, seizing Loren’s arms he shook her. Small as he was, it had little effect. “Loren, we must save her. The wizard has gone mad.”

  “We will,” said Loren, resting a calming hand on his shoulder. “I promise. I will not rest until we do.”

  Gem’s lip trembled, and for a moment she feared the boy might cry. After a moment, he steeled himself and nodded.

  “Loren,” Vivien said. “Where is Jordel?”

  “I know not. We lost him in the battle.”

  “Then we should return to your inn. He will look for us there now that the fighting is done. Jordel has pursued the wizard across a kingdom. He will know best how to find him again.”

  “And Annis as well,” said Loren, glaring. “I doubt your friends in the family Yerrin would be pleased if she were harmed or remained in Xain’s care.”

  “Do not lecture me on the family Yerrin,” hissed Vivien. “We have enjoyed a long friendship while you have only stirred their ire since they met you. I heard of your deeds in Cabrus, girl. Your inn. Now.”

  She stalked off, leaving Loren little choice but to follow. She wanted Vivien’s company even less than Xain’s, but their belongings remained at the inn. And without Jordel’s help, how could she hope to find Annis? So Loren fell into step with Gem beside her.

  The city bustled with a hurried melancholy as workers bore torches from building to building, hoping to repair what damage they could. Many homes would surely have to be torn down and rebuilt. Amidst so many soot-covered faces, shining in torchlight and aimlessly wandering, Loren felt a bottomless sorrow.

  At last, they reached the inn, where they found many people seated at tables around the common room. The innkeeper bustled by but stopped when Vivien seized her arm.

  “I will have a bath,” Vivien snapped. “For while you cowered in fear, I fought to defend your home. Make it fast, and if you think I will pay you are mistaken.”

  Her words were so silky and venomous that the innkeeper herself ran red faced to prepare a tub. Vivien turned and motioned to someone behind Loren. A figure in a red cloak appeared from nowhere—one of the other Mystics from Jordel’s company.

  “Find our captain. He may be in the south where the fires burnt or mayhap not. But he must come here as quickly as he can, for much has happened.”

  The Mystic nodded and retreated through the front door. The innkeeper reappeared with several nervous glances at Vivien.

  She looked to Loren a final time. “If Jordel comes, fetch me immediately. Wait here in the meantime, and do not eat. The shock will not have worn off yet, and you might lose anything you manage to swallow.”

  With a whirl of her cloak, Vivien retreated into the back, leaving Loren and Gem in the common room.

  “So much for her gratitude,” Gem grumbled. “She was more courteous when she wanted Xain to help in the city’s defense.”

  “Shush,” said Loren. “Let us take a seat, or I will collapse.”

  They looked but could not easily find a seat; patrons sat at all the tables, each looking as weary and soot blackened as Loren herself. It seemed as though everyone present only wanted to lose themselves in wine and ale until the following morrow or the next Dorsean attack—whichever came first. Not a single table was empty.

  Loren approached a table with six chairs, but sat by only two men. One wore a smudged blue vest and had arms like thick branches covered with scars. Around his forehead was tied a long blue cloth stained with sweat and something darker—blood or wine, Loren could not be sure. By his side sat a thinner, sharper man in a trim purple coat, his fingers slim and dexterous, eyes glinting in firelight.

  “May we take a seat?” said Loren, too tired for proper manners.

  “Always,” said the thinner man, “especially for eyes like those.”

  Another time Loren might have answered that, but now she was too weary. She slumped into a seat with Gem beside her. When a server came, she ordered a flagon of wine and a cup.

  “Two cups,” said Gem. “I have earned one today, I think.”

  Loren gave him a long look but could find no heart to refuse him. “Two cups,” she said, and reached for her coin.

  “I won’t hear of it,” said the slim man. “You look as though you have been trampled by a horse.” His hand flashed into his coat, and he handed the server a few silver pennies.

  Loren nodded her gratitude. No words were spoken until the wine’s arrival. Loren and Gem poured. She drank deep, and Gem tried to follow, but his mouth twisted with the sour taste, and he decided to sip more slowly. The large man in the blue vest seemed content to ignore them. His slim companion, however, studied them with glittering eyes.

  “City dwellers, are you?” Though he spoke to
them both, his eyes stayed on Loren. “And friends of a Mystic, or so I guess the woman in the red cloak to be.”

  “I would not use the word friend,” said Loren.

  “Smarter than you seem, then,” said the man. “As smart as your eyes are entrancing.”

  “Leave off,” said the other man, giving the thinner man a dirty look.

  “Don’t be silly.” The thin man laughed. “Words are harmless.”

  “Not with you.” The big man turned to Loren. “Those are wisest who say the least to this one. His words hold a greater power than most.”

  Loren thought of Xain. She looked at the thin man with renewed interest. “Are you a . . .” She did not know how to ask—was it considered rude?

  “A what, lovely?” The man’s smile widened. “Only say the word.”

  “A firemage,” whispered Loren.

  He tilted his head forward, looking at her from under his brows. “Not as far as anyone on the south wall knows.” He snapped his fingers, and a few small sparks sprang forth. For a moment, Loren saw the glow of white in his eyes. “But then, things in the nine kingdoms are not always what they seem.”

  “Is that all you can do?” said Gem scornfully. “We know a firemage who could light the whole city ablaze if he wished.”

  The wizard’s look soured as he glared at Gem. “Then we must count ourselves lucky the Dorseans have not hired him.”

  “You are sellswords, then?” said Loren. “I had not thought Wellmont hired its own company.”

  “We are, after a fashion,” said the wizard. “We happened to be here when the Dorseans arrived. The mayor’s call to arms promised pay without contract to any man who would lift a sword on the wall. I have lifted many by now, and the coin is not half bad. The city’s coffers have grown fat with many years of peace and plenty.”

  “But why not tell them of your gift?” said Gem. “I am sure they would pay better for a proper wizard.”

  The man’s eyes hardened, and though the smile never left his lips it became something twisted. “Be not so hasty to call magic a gift, boy. Nor is it always wise for others to know you command it, for it raises a certain . . . expectation that many are unable to fulfill.”

  Loren thought again of Xain, of the look in his eyes as he dragged Annis away. Suddenly, she did not feel so kindly towards the wizard before her, and she dropped her eyes to the wine cup.

  “But I am mercenary by trade, and there is no doubt it is a hard life.” Again the wizard turned to Loren. He leaned forwards earnestly to fold his hands on the table before her. “We grow lonely, marching back and forth across the nine lands. Who knows whence may come the bolt to end our lives? Who knows which swordsman will at last plant his blade in my—“

  His words cut off abruptly as his muscled companion seized his arm and hauled him up.

  “That is quite enough. Let us find comforts more pricey, yet honestly bought.”

  “Who calls me dishonest?” said the wizard in mock protest. But he did not raise a finger to stop his friend. “Farewell, sweet maid! I will remember your eyes ever until I see them again! Farewell!”

  Loren and Gem watched until the men had vanished through the inn’s front door, and then stared at the threshold for several long moments afterwards.

  “What an imbecile,” mumbled Gem, his words thick with wine.

  Just then, Jordel stepped inside the inn. He saw Loren immediately, and his grave look said he knew something was wrong.

  He swiftly approached and sat on the other side of their table. Loren snatched Gem’s cup and shoved it towards Jordel, but the Mystic waved it away.

  “What has happened? Vivien’s messenger seemed to think it most urgent that I get here quickly. Where are the others?”

  “Vivien is bathing. Gem, go and fetch her.”

  Gem paled. “But . . . but she is bathing.”

  “Do not be a child, nor open the door if it bothers you so.”

  Still he hesitated, but Loren shoved Gem off his chair and prodded him to the room’s rear, where he soon disappeared.

  “That is only one,” said Jordel. “Tell me: Where are Xain and Annis?”

  Loren opened her mouth, but words would not come. She felt a hard stinging at the back of her eyes. All her shock at Xain’s actions seemed to descend upon her at once, and she felt her throat constricting.

  Jordel’s eyes softened as he studied her face. “Speak, child. Hard words are yet better when spoken, and I will think no ill if you weep.”

  Loren’s hesitation vanished, and she gave Jordel an evil stare. “Do not speak to me as a child. I do not need your sympathy or condescension but your aid, if truly offered.”

  With that, she explained all that had transpired with Xain and Annis in the streets of Wellmont. She spoke of what had happened during the battle and after, though Loren did not tell Jordel all that Xain had said. Vivien arrived in the middle of her story, hair braided and still dripping from her bath. Gem stood red faced beside her, staring at the floor. All listened silently until Loren had told the full tale, and were quiet many long minutes afterward.

  “I see,” Jordel said at last. “This is grievous news yet not so terrible as I had feared. At least they are both alive.”

  “So far as we know,” said Loren. “Xain may have killed her to dispose of his inconvenience. He told me what happened upon the High King’s Seat, Jordel. That the King’s law pursues him for murder.”

  Jordel’s eyes narrowed. “He told you that?”

  “I should have known better,” said Loren. “I should have known he spun a tale before, for who would flee so ardently from constables only for some mage’s duel? After all he has done to me, I should not have been so surprised to—“

  “Be still,” said Jordel. “Xain has deceived you indeed, but that does not mean you should be ashamed of your trust. For the lie was in his words today when he named himself a murderer. Xain took no life upon the High King’s Seat.”

  Loren stared, speechless.

  Gem said, “Why would he lie now? Who would willingly take the title of murderer? I have done wrong in my life but would fight anyone who accused me of that.”

  “One who wanted to escape, and quickly,” said Vivien, her voice full of scorn. “You were a fool to believe him.”

  “I had no reason not to,” said Loren angrily. “You might have told me the truth had you not slept through the ordeal.”

  Jordel raised a hand, and Vivien’s violent response died on her lips. “It is done in any case. Arguments will not help us now. We must find the wizard, and quickly, before he devises some way to escape the city.”

  Loren considered telling Jordel about the magestones, but Vivien’s presence would not permit the risk. She had heard the Mystic woman when she told Jordel about the wizards over the wall; she had said they ate the black stones and had called them abominations. What, then, would she think if she knew Loren had provided Xain with the stones?

  “We would do well to rescue the Yerrin girl whole, if we can,” said Vivien. “Else I fear the family Yerrin will blame us for any harm that befalls her. Our presence here has not gone unremarked, and if her body is found in this city they will soon learn the truth.”

  “We should rescue her because she is blameless,” said Jordel. “And we will. I do not believe for a moment that Xain would harm her, whatever he may have done to convince you in the moment.”

  “Yet you do not know.” Gem’s words were angry, his cheeks flushed and eyes dark. The wine might have been a mistake.

  “We will find her, boy,” said Vivien. “And faster without your help, I would guess. You look as though you need a nap.”

  “You and yours may visit the darkness below for all I care,” said Gem, and there was no mistaking it now—the boy was drunk. “I will not leave Annis to her own with a wizard gone mad.”

  Jordel said, “We will do all we can to see her safe.”

  “Not fast enough.” Gem stood, shaking off Loren’s hand when she tried to
steady him. “I shall find her myself, and sod the lot of you.”

  “I wish you the best of luck, little master,” said Vivien, her voice sickly sweet. “Do come and tell us once you have finished.”

  “Be silent,” snapped Jordel. “Gem, I think it would be best for you to stay.”

  “I never asked you what you think,” said Gem. “Farewell.”

  He bumped the table as he left but made steadily for the door. Loren ran after him. She seized his shoulder and spun him around before he stepped outside.

  “Do not be an idiot. You are in no state to find her.”

  “And what shall I do? Stay here and sit on my thumbs?”

  “Stay and help us,” said Loren.

  “You have no need of my help,” he muttered. “The Mystics seem to have everything well in hand.”

  “You will not go out on those streets in this condition,” said Loren. “I will not allow it.”

  Gem scowled, unmoving.

  In the common room’s firelight, she saw his angry mask crack, the pieces crumbling to reveal a frightened child.

  “I must do something, Loren. I keep seeing the flames and the buildings, and that woman . . .”

  Loren shuddered, for Gem’s words brought to her mind the burning woman as they left her dying in the street.

  “I see them too, Gem.”

  “And she helped me, in the middle of it. How can I sit here and wait or tag along at your heels? Let me go. Let me try and find her, to help her as she helped me.”

  Loren could think of no way to refuse him, so she slowly drew aside. “Very well. But if you fall drunk into the river and drown, I will slap you. And if you do find them, come and tell me. Do not try and rescue Annis yourself. Will you promise me that?”

  “Of course,” he said with a smile. “Pickpocket’s promise.” Then Gem vanished through the inn’s front door and into the black of night.

  twenty-nine

  LOREN RETURNED TO THE TABLE and found Jordel had already devised a plan of action; together he and Loren would search the city for Annis and Xain. Jordel seemed to have many contacts behind the gate and felt confident he could uncover the wizard without too much trouble.