Mystic: A Book of Underrealm

by Garrett Robinson

  “I had already planned to comb the city for you both when I arrived. The search will be narrower now.”

  “Very well,” said Loren. “When do you mean to start?”

  “Now. For if Xain escapes the city, we may lose him entirely.”

  “Then let us be off,” Vivien said.

  “You misunderstand me.” Jordel looked at her coldly. “I mean to take Loren in my company while you return to the constables’ station and coordinate their search.”

  Vivien stiffened, her gaze dropping from his, hands clenching on the table. “Have I displeased you, my captain?”

  “You have only made me displeased with myself. For I should have known your lengths to protect this city. It was not the mayor who threatened to hang the men at the north gate if they opened it, Vivien.”

  Her eyes grew hooded, but Vivien did not respond.

  “By your counsel alone did Xain fight upon the wall, and because of that we lost him. Were it not for you, we should be riding hard for the north in retreat to Feldemar where we could plan our next step. Now, our schemes may be lost.”

  “I did not mean for this to happen, Captain. Allow me to rectify my mistake.”

  “I shall. But from the constables’ station, and not at my side. Use all your wit and cunning in aid of the search, and I shall call you forgiven. But if I should find that you take any further steps to keep the wizard from me—“

  He slammed his hand on the table. A terrible wrath flashed in his eyes, and then it was gone, and he was only Jordel again.

  “I understand,” whispered Vivien. “I will not betray your faith again, my captain.”

  “I believe you. Now come, Loren. Wellmont is a wide city with many nooks and crannies for our wizard to hide.”

  Together, they left the inn and set upon the streets. Nearly everyone had gone home, with only a few scattered passersby to give them curious looks. Jordel cut an impressive figure in his crimson cloak, and Loren felt small beside him in her midnight black.

  “I may have made an error in placing my faith in that one,” said Jordel heavily. “If any great harm comes from it, I will not forgive myself.”

  “Vivien, you mean? She seems . . . strange. It is as though she is a walking secret, with another mind behind the face she chooses to show.”

  “And never is such a mind more dangerous. I can admire her focus and resourcefulness in pursuit of her goals, but her actions sit ill in my stomach. I wonder what it may portend, for us and especially for the Yerrin girl.”

  Jordel stopped and turned to Loren. He placed a hand on her shoulder and spun her towards him.

  Softly, he said, “Above all, I worry what it might mean for you.” He glanced over his shoulder and leaned in to murmur. “I have warned you already not to reveal the dagger, not to anyone but me or your friends. You must be doubly sure not to let Vivien see so much as a glimmer. You would spell your doom and the death of your friends. Even me, though I doubt you hold me as such.”

  “Why her?” Loren said behind a flutter of terror. “What is it you fear?”

  “’Tis not her but those I suspect she is in thrall to. I have told you some within my order would wish your death simply for holding the dagger. Unless I miss my guess by a berth, Vivien would report you directly in exchange for their favor. It seems within her character.”

  “I will remember. And . . . I would not so hastily excuse yourself from the company of my friends.”

  Jordel looked to Loren, and though he did not smile, she caught a softening in his eyes. Then he turned with a whirl of his cloak. She followed him towards the docks, her hand resting on the dagger’s hilt.

  “Often have I visited Wellmont, and its captains are well known to me. With Vivien’s command, Xain will not leave the city by any gate—not, at least, without blasting it open, and then we shall hear of it quickly. He may think he can escape by the river, though, and so there we start our search. There are scant hours until dawn, and the captains will be awake.”

  Loren thought of the way they had passed beneath the rivergate but dismissed it. Xain would not have Bubble’s skill at crafting a bowl of air. He would go by boat or not at all.

  “One thing has troubled me,” Loren said. “What do you mean to do with the wizard once we find him?”

  “I will not kill him, if that is your meaning. He has done nothing to earn such a punishment, and his powers are too valuable besides.”

  “That is not what I mean. His powers are the problem. I gather you mean to subdue him. But how? He is a wizard, after all. Though I am glad for her absence, would it not be wiser to hunt Xain with Vivien by our side? She at least might stand a chance against him.”

  “Anyone is vulnerable when surprised, and a wizard may be knocked senseless like any other. But you strike upon an important truth. I joined the Mystics as a mage hunter. A special force, well trained and with a single purpose: to subdue wizards who threaten the nine lands, either through magic or lust for power.”

  “Are such services often required?” said Loren, surprised. “Wizards are few and far between, it seems. How often do they pose a danger?”

  “Not often, and yet when they do it is awful indeed. Hence we must be ever ready, for Only in Watchfulness Lies Safety. Those are the words of our order, though many have left them forgotten.” Jordel’s eyes looked troubled. “But as I say, I spent my early years in that company. One of the first things we learn is to subdue the four types of wizardry. You know of the branches, yes?”

  “I have heard. I know of firemages and mindmages. And weremages,” she added, thinking of Auntie.

  “You have forgotten Alchemy—though of course any wizard would shake their heads and grouse at our use of such common terms. Amongst the learned, they are called Elementalism, Mentalism, Therianthropy and Transmutation. But no matter. Each type of magic relies upon a certain something, and each type of wizard may be cut from the source of their power. You have seen Xain cast his spells?”

  “I have,” said Loren.

  “What does he do?” said Jordel, his eyes careful upon her.

  Loren felt a test and was determined to pass.

  “He speaks words, and his eyes glow white. Then he moves his hands, and his fingers twist in just such a way.”

  She tried to imitate one of Xain’s signs, but it was hard to remember. His fingers were always so quick.

  “That is close to the sign for wind. But yes, his words are the true source. Thus by gagging an elementalist—a firemage, you would call them—they are rendered powerless until the gag is removed.”

  Astounded, she said, “You mean you could tie a cloth in Xain’s mouth, and he would be like any other man?”

  “Just so. Mindmages must envision their magic, and so a blindfold will do the trick. They cannot see the thing they wish to move or strike. Alchemists must touch the things they change, and so you may use gloves to subdue them. Weremages are most difficult. They can become whatever they imagine, within the limits of their power, and so their thoughts you must constrain. Keeping them unconscious will do it, as will some herbs that muddy the mind.”

  “But weremages seem the least dangerous. They cannot unleash bolts of flame nor throw a man through the air. That, at least, is a blessing.”

  “They are not always,” Jordel almost whispered, his eyes drifting far. “I know one more fearsome than Xain even at his mightiest, but that is a story for another time. Suffice it to say that each type of wizard bears their own danger, and none must be trifled with lightly.”

  “Nor do I wish to. Once Annis is rescued, I will be quite content to never deal with a wizard again.”

  “I do not think that is your fate,” said Jordel. “But come. We approach the docks with much to do.”

  The Wellmont docks were no more than half-full—any captain able to leave had done so when word first came of the Dorsean attack. And no more had arrived since the river blockade was raised. Jordel studied the boats, their lashings creaking as they strained
in the current. He saw one he must have known, for he quickly approached it. A thin rat of a man looked up and rose as the Mystic’s boots landed on his deck.

  “Jordel,” said the captain. “Well met, though I would it were in happier times.”

  “And I as well. I have a favor to ask.”

  Jordel described Xain and Annis and told the captain to keep a watch for them. The man swore his oath. Then Jordel pulled forth a gold weight and placed it into his palm. The captain tried to refuse, but Jordel waved him off and left the boat, rejoining Loren on the dock.

  “He gave me passage down the Dragon’s Tail to Wavemouth once. And on the journey I saved his life from brigands who tried to rob him.”

  “His life? Surely that debt cannot be repaid. Why, then, did you need to bribe his lookout?”

  “It was not a bribe,” said Jordel solemnly. “It was a gift, one friend to another. My order has no shortage of wealth. If I may bestow it upon those who rarely have an extra coin to their name, it will do my masters no harm—and will earn that much more loyalty besides.”

  At the next boat, Jordel told Loren he had served as the captain’s first mate for two months while hunting a rogue wizard. At the next, Jordel recounted how he had met the captain—a woman—as they drank together in a tavern on the docks of Redbrook. Jordel grew somewhat red in the face and spoke curtly of her, offering no further explanation.

  “Do you know every riverboat captain in all the nine lands?”

  “Not quite but enough to serve my purpose. In Selvan especially, riverboats are the land’s lifeline. Rarely does word travel more swiftly than the water will carry it, and those who steer these boats have seen more of the world than most who dwell here in Wellmont. It pays to know such folk. Indeed, the more people one knows, the more one can learn about any land where they might wish to travel.”

  “I feel as though you are giving me a lesson.”

  “One you should take to heart. If you would travel from kingdom to kingdom, make friends wherever you may. One never knows when such friendships might be repaid, and the rewards may be great when they do.”

  Loren thought of the men she had met in the bar that afternoon. “I made two friends today. Sellswords who fought on the southern wall when the Dorseans struck.”

  “That is good,” Jordel nodded approval. “Mercenaries, too, often roam far and gather knowledge. Though they are more prone to die than a riverboat captain.”

  They continued down the docks, with Jordel stopping at boats even where he did not know the captain. But plenty of vessels gave him no pause, and when Loren looked closer they appeared to be empty.

  “What of these ones?” She pointed. “Xain could be hiding in any one of these empty boats, holding Annis captive.”

  “He might,” said Jordel, looking troubled. “But we cannot simply step aboard and search any boat we please. At least not yet.”

  “If it is time you need, I could start. You hardly need me to speak with these fishermen.”

  “Not unless we can find them no other way. This is a river city, Loren. To many who live here, their boats are more precious than their lives. It is not wise, whether it be for the King’s law or otherwise, to step aboard their vessels without permission or cause.”

  “Do you think Xain will hold to the same rule?” said Loren, growing angry. “He could be sitting on the other side of that door, laughing as he hears you speak of propriety.”

  “If he is, we will find him. No doubt Vivien has already sent word to the mayor, requesting his help. Word will find every captain, and the constables and my men will search the boats stem to stern. But it will be properly done and will spark no ire.”

  “But what if they hide here now? You have spoken to nearly every captain in Wellmont, and Vivien has sent us no word that your men have found him elsewhere. It seems we have scant few places to search beyond the empty boats.”

  “And there you should have searched from the start,” said a voice.

  Gem slid out from the shadows of a nearby building. His nose was as red as when Loren had last seen him, his speech still too thick. But his jaw was set, and his eyes burnt with determination.

  “I have found your wizard, Mystic, and his captive. Come, and make your claim before I kill him myself.”

  thirty

  “GEM,” SAID LOREN. “HOW DID you . . .”

  “I guessed from the first that the wizard might look to the boats. We arrived by the river, and so it seems he means to leave. There is an empty green vessel, practically rotting at the west end of the docks. Xain waits there and with him Annis.”

  Jordel said, “You went aboard without leave? That was perilously done. You could have been brought to the constables.”

  “None saw me. Certainly not Xain.”

  “Is Annis alive?” Loren asked. “Is she whole?”

  “She is, or I would not stand before you. For if he had hurt her more, I would have killed the wizard and fled Wellmont a murderer. But Xain is . . . acting oddly.”

  “How?” said Loren. “What do you mean?”

  “He moves and sounds like a man in great pain, though I can find no sympathy for him.”

  “You did well,” said Jordel, clearly troubled. “But now you must leave it in our hands. Show us to this boat.”

  Gem gestured off into the darkness and turned to walk. He had a slight stumble in his step, but other than that the boy did not falter while guiding them towards Wellmont’s west end.

  Loren spied the boat before Gem showed them—she had seen the thing’s ugly, chipped green paint while passing the first time. They hung far back to keep their voices from being heard and from the darkness of a narrow alley surveyed the boat. It sat low and listing in the river. It hardly seemed the thing could keep water out. The boards were mostly rotted, and its masts were naked of sails.

  Gem pointed. “There he waits. If he has not fled.”

  “We must have him out,” said Jordel. “This must be cautiously done. Loren, you should—“

  “She should slit his throat. She has a dagger, after all, and can move without being heard when she so wishes.”

  “Gem!” said Loren.

  “What?” he barked. “Is your precious rule more valuable than the life of a friend? She lies within that boat, unable to escape for the wizard who might kill her. Did you see him press his flames into her neck? Did you hear her scream, as I did?”

  Loren had heard her, and the sight of Xain pressing his finger into her flesh would not leave her mind’s eye. Of its own accord, her hand sneaked to the dagger.

  Were someone to place a blade at her throat and force Loren to choose between Xain and Annis, she would have chosen the girl in an instant. The wizard had tried to leave her too many times, had lied to her, and had harmed Annis besides. And certainly if he were dead, Annis’s safety would no longer be in question. They could all travel to the north of Dorsea and search for Xain’s contact or find somewhere else to sell the magestones.

  Loren saw herself crouched over Xain, his lifeblood seeping from a gash in his neck, her blood-covered dagger in hand. She saw his dead eyes staring up at her, and her mind recoiled. She shook her head and shivered, though the night was muggy and warm.

  “We will not kill the wizard,” said Jordel. “No more blood need be spilt. Wellmont has seen quite enough today.”

  “What do you know of need?” said Gem. “You said you came to protect us, but you were not there when the wizard took her. His eyes were mad, I tell you, and his face like a skeleton’s. Kill him, I say, or he will murder us all and more besides.”

  “He has killed no one yet,” said Jordel.

  “And you need him for your precious war,” Gem sneered.

  “Jordel is right, Gem. We will not kill him. Certainly not me. And you should be less quick to wish such a judgment, lest it finds you yourself.”

  “As you say then, Nightblade.” Gem stood tall as he could, glaring at Loren. “But know this. I meant to deal my own justic
e to Xain. If you fail to do the same, and Annis comes to harm because of it, that justice will fall upon you.”

  Loren almost laughed, but she realized how great a mistake that would be. Instead, she solemnly nodded. “I have heard you. And will keep your promise in mind. Annis shall not come to harm while I live.”

  She turned to Jordel. “I have an idea for how she might be recovered but need your help.”

  “Let me hear your plan. If it is good, you will have my help and more besides. I shall have my men brought.”

  “No, no others,” said Loren. “There is no time. If he should try to escape before their arrival, then my plan is foiled—and I will need Gem as well. You used to hunt mages. Do you know more than how to restrain them? Can you fight?”

  “You saw me in the tavern.”

  When Xain had thought the Mystics were attacking, Jordel had summoned his magic. He had struck like a serpent to stop Xain cold.

  “Good enough,” said Loren. “I will catch the wizard’s attention and draw him out, away from the boat. Once he is gone, the two of you may come aboard and rescue Annis. He will return to the boat once he loses me. Jordel will lie in ambush, waiting to take him captive.”

  “That is a dangerous course,” said Gem. “For it pits you alone against the wizard.”

  “I can escape from Xain on the streets easily enough. A wizard he may be, but he has poor wisdom when it comes to pursuit. And besides, I do not think him a killer—not after what Jordel told us at the inn.”

  “I can save the girl myself,” said Jordel. “Send Gem to gather the others from my order. They can help us if your plan goes ill.”

  “Gem must go with you. Annis is no doubt terrified and does not hold you in great esteem. She might fight if she sees you and draw Xain’s return too early. Gem will calm her.”

  Jordel looked troubled and did not answer immediately. “Still, you must be careful,” he finally said. “And if it grows too perilous, you must withdraw. I would not have you come to harm on my account. Mayhap it would be better if I were to draw him away. He might pursue me more readily, and the two of you can save Annis as easily as I might.”