Lightfoot

by Joe Kuster

  He reached to scoop it back into his robes, but blue-gray fingers snatched it up. She’d approached without him hearing her.

  “What’s this?” Serina asked.

  TJ stammered, “Uhm… I… well.”

  She pursed her lips and gave him a mischievous look. “Is this for me?”

  “No, I… uh… well, maybe. Yes, but… it’s nothing, really. Just this thing I found on the river bluff,” he said awkwardly.

  Her fingers unwound the small piece of grass that held the closure in place. Opening it, her eyes fixed on the dark red stone.

  She drew in a long, slow breath, and the air itself seemed to grow heavy around them. Her lips moved, but TJ didn’t hear any words. Shadows bent and flexed, seeming disconnected from the rest of reality. An oppressive haze settled over the pair as she continued to wordlessly chant. TJ’s ears began to hurt from the pressure, and the room began to grow dark.

  The next thing TJ knew, Serina was gently shaking him. She’d placed a pillow under his head as he lay sprawled out on the floor. He blinked away his disorientation just in time for her to smash her lips to his as she settled her hips astride him.

  “Do you have any idea what this is?” she cried out as she pushed the red rock to his face.

  TJ only managed to blink dumbly.

  “You found a channeling crystal. Not a very big one, but it’s a nearly flawless bloodstone and really powerful,” she said with a happy grin.

  “Uh… great?” TJ tried.

  She smacked his shoulder. “Better than great. My instructors say I can’t have one for another few hundred years. With this, I could try all sorts of things I couldn’t normally do. I… I can have this, right? Pleeeeeease?”

  TJ worked his way up onto his elbows and gave her a tender kiss. “Of course. I was just afraid you wouldn’t like it. You can keep it as a gift from me, I swear.”

  There was a strange pressure in the air as he said those words, but Serina didn’t seem to notice.

  Instead, she bounded to her feet and began staring at the stone as she placed it upon her dresser. She seemed to be admiring it from every angle and imagining the possibilities. “I can’t wait to show this off tonight. Even those uptight bitches are gonna be jelly of this beauty.”

  “Ah… right. The revel. I’ve gotta get ready,” TJ said.

  Serina glanced out the window to the darkening sky, then cursed. “Yeah, me too. My aunt wanted to make it a formal thing tonight. The same old stuck-up theater and dance followed by as much thrusty-thrusty as possible. She’s such a hypocritical cunt.”

  Serina dashed over to give him an excited peck on both cheeks, then scurried back over to her changing area. Serina clapped, overjoyed, as she gazed longingly at the stone, before pulling herself away and grabbing a dress box from the corner. She then slid behind the privacy screen where she kept her makeup.

  He wasn’t sure what he should be feeling right now. He was thrilled she liked the shiny rock, but his heart hurt with the thought he’d probably never get to see her use it.

  Seeing that she was far too busy getting ready, he saw himself out. He had nothing nicer or cleaner than what he was wearing, so there wasn’t any point in returning home.

  He whispered to himself, “Well, off to the slaughter.”

  Chapter 3

  TJ fussed with his robes, trying to get the folds perfect. The random assortment of thick yellowish metal chains and various sized disks that someone had told him to wear over his shoulders jingled as he shifted. The disks were interwoven with the matching chain and slipped down to the bottom of his rib cage. Long loops of the metal were worked over it in a design like sunrays. It was astonishingly heavy, at least thirty pounds or more, but gave his otherwise generic gray robes an exotic feel.

  A few of the bards not providing the night’s entertainment had been kind enough to set up a series of magical mirrors to help the entertainers prepare their outfits and costumes. Stationed just behind the performance tent, the magical musicians mingled around trays of food and sipped at their beers while they waited to be needed.

  “Looking good, son!” his father quipped as he eased out from behind the makeshift bar.

  He slapped him on the shoulder, then his nimble hands slipped the familiar weight of his silver flask into TJ’s inside pocket.

  TJ gave a forced smile and nodded. “Thanks, Dad.” He patted the spot where the container now resided. “And uh, thanks, I guess.”

  The man leaned over and gave a conspiratorial whisper, “It’s the good stuff. Mages topped off the charge on the cherrywood barrels every week for forty years. I just tapped them today. It’s mighty fine bourbon, even by my standards. Just don’t let anyone catch you with it. It’s from the reserved batch. The stuff absorbed enough mana that it actually glows.”

  TJ dipped his head in appreciation. As the Master of Casks, his father could occasionally slip out some of the more exquisite alcohol from the distillery. Anything from the reserved lines was exclusively meant for Deva lips. However, as the one who tested the spirits for purity and taste, his father was one of the incredibly few exceptions to that rule.

  His father’s continued smuggling of magical liquor out of the distillery was a bit of a family secret. It had also led to TJ and his mother building an impossibly high tolerance to strong alcohol. TJ himself had all but given up on trying to get drunk unless it was from his father’s stash or the rare special occasion when he’d managed to horde a few week's pay.

  If he were willing to skip buying food, he could down enough shots at the tavern to get the job done, but since he had to drink enough to put four dwarves under the table, it was incredibly expensive. Aside from occasionally splurging, he didn’t have the funds to get more than buzzed, especially not on good liquor. While much more economical, beer simply didn’t have enough kick to get the job done. Instead, it only made him urinate.

  As TJ pulled a stray wisp of light-colored hair back once more, his father lined up next to him in the mirror. The older man pulled at his braided blond ponytail for a moment to check that all the metal crimps that denoted his station were still in place, then tossed it over his shoulder. His father was nearly a head shorter than TJ but had a much broader build with a fair bit of thickness around the middle. His mother liked to joke that he was an oversized dwarf that had stolen some wings.

  Leaning into the look, his father had started growing out a beard. It wasn’t quite the magnificent, bushy thing like he’d seen on the dwarves of the village, but it was slowly getting there. The man’s muscles gave proof of the hard labor of towing casks all day, and the red tinge to his cherub-like cheeks attested to the amount of booze he consumed, both on the job and off.

  His father nodded to the reflection, then turned to scrutinize TJ’s expressionless gaze.

  He scrunched up his face, then whispered, “Ya look like you’re nervous and trying to hide it. What do they have you doing, anyway?”

  TJ fingered the gold ornamentation draped over his shoulders, then nodded his head toward the back room where rugs had been hung to create a divider in the tent.

  “Ah, shit, son…” his father hissed.

  TJ blew out a long breath, then nodded.

  His father chewed on his lip, but there wasn’t much else to be said about the situation, especially not where they might be overheard. Anyone working near their patrons ran the risk. They all did, his father included.

  Both men tensed as a flash of magic caused a thunderclap. As the roar quieted, there was riotous laughter from the backroom. The Deva warriors were well into their celebration and had already begun showing off to each other. Whatever had just happened, it had almost certainly added to the casualty list.

  A woman that TJ recognized from the tavern’s waitstaff walked stiffly through a slit in the fabric. Her hazel eyes were wide with terror, and her hands were shaking. As she stumbled, TJ could see the blood dripping from the woman’s ears.

  TJ started to dart forward, but his father held
him back, making room for the nearby attendants who rushed forward.

  “Send another one in, we need more wine!” a cold female voice shouted.

  A moment later, a man’s rough voice added, “And make sure she’s pretty!”

  One of the attendants scooped up the injured woman in a bridal carry and quickly began walking away. A nearby bard jumped from their stool and jerked open the partition to a stand-alone tent nearby. A light haze of magic surrounded it, which TJ guessed was to dampen the sound coming from within.

  As soon as the attendee had the woman inside, the bard began playing his flute softly. A soft blue haze began forming around the server as she was eased to a mat. Her panic eased as her eyelids fluttered. In moments, she was asleep.

  Others in various states of injury and agony lay nearby as an apothecary dabbed a poultice of herbs onto another woman’s facial burns. It only took a glance to know this would be a very long night for the healers and bards alike.

  TJ’s father busied himself preparing a tray of wine glasses, then passed it off to one of the elven serving girls that was waiting in the wings. Picking it up, she stiffly lifted her chin as though she was pulling on every stray piece of willpower she had. An approximation of a smile was carved into her face as she slid into the backroom.

  In only moments, the elf returned without her tray, but lips pressed into a thin hard line.

  “I said pretty!” the same gruff voice from before called out. He then added, “Someone had better start sucking my dick, or I’ll come out there and make them.”

  A stern female voice shouted, “Sariel, shut your mouth this instant! I put up with this on campaign, but you will not talk like that in my family’s presence. My niece is barely of age.”

  “Fine… fine. I’ll wait for later, but I’m bored,” the man gruffed.

  In response, a bell chimed.

  TJ knew that bell.

  It was what he’d been dreading the entire evening.

  Without really processing what he was doing, TJ straightened his robes and began walking down the small corridor of fabric hanging from a simple wooden frame.

  Reaching the opening, he slipped in.

  The room was dimly lit, but he quickly made out Serina sitting next to her mother in the front row. Around them, spread out at a handful of tables, were thirty Devas. Most were clad in formalwear. Elegant gowns and handsome suits shimmered with magic and were adorned with gems. However, a few were still wearing their armor, as though they’d just ridden in from the bloody fields of battle. In the back of the room, a dozen musicians sat, instruments poised and at the ready.

  The room itself was a bit of a slapdash affair. It was as if someone had taken every single ornament, vase, or work of art and tried to cram it all together to somehow make the village’s abject poverty somehow less intense.

  Layers of rugs lined the ground. Overhead, the tent fabric flapped softly. Small golden magical lights had been placed at the far corners and caused flickering reflections in the hammered gold items that rested nearby.

  TJ took his spot at the center of the space reserved at the front of the room. As he bowed, Serina’s eyes went wide.

  He could tell she knew exactly what was going to happen. He saw wheels spinning as she put it all together. The Deva woman looked to have pieced together his visit and how this had likely come about. She might be young and prone to frivolity, but she had an incredibly sharp mind. She also seemed to understand him startlingly well.

  Holding his bow for the prescribed duration, TJ did as he’d been instructed and grasped the chains holding two of the little gold disks hanging from his shoulders. Carefully smacking them together, they rang with an eerie sound that resonated for a surprisingly long time.

  He eased into the beginning pose of Breeze Upon a Summer’s Night, and the musicians in the back of the room began to play. His movements were jerky, but no one called out. He pivoted, his robes sweeping across the floor. The metal adornments jingled and swayed, emphasizing the hitch in his steps. He paused at the wrong spot, missing the musical cue, but there was no burst of painful magic.

  As he shifted through the moves, he glanced up and realized that Serina had taken that moment to show off her newest treasure. As he made an elegant sweeping gesture with his hand, he realized that no eyes were on him. Not a one.

  “Serina, I fucking love you,” he whispered.

  A strange pressure grew in his mind, and he tried to blink his way through it. As though the presence realized it had about made him fall over, it shifted and eased.

  TJ moved from one pose to the next, trying to ignore the suddenly quite loud conversation around him. There were a few pops of simple magic being thrown around as someone held up her crystal. Probably testing its amplification capacity.

  TJ tried to focus on his movements; he was nearly complete with the first act. If he could somehow get through the third, he might live through the night.

  “I said, give it back!” Serina screamed.

  TJ spun, returning to the center of the stage as the first song concluded. When he had eyes back on the crowd, one of the silver-skinned men in armor with long black hair had her stone and looked like he was going to pocket it.

  Serina’s mother looked pale and shocked while another figure engulfed in such a blinding glow that he assumed had to be Saphinium held a sword of golden light aimed at the other man.

  Serina shouted something angrily and then pointed to TJ.

  TJ groaned internally, “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shi—”

  A burst of magic slammed him to the floor. A hand smashed into the back of his neck, grabbed a fistful of his robes, and then lifted him into the air like he weighed nothing more than a loaf of bread.

  “Where did you find this!” the man demanded.

  Disoriented from the stunning spell, all TJ could do was slosh his head from side to side.

  “He fucking stole it from the armory, that’s what!” a voice in the back yelled.

  “Just burn the thief and be done with it!” another yelled.

  As the blinding light subsided, the silver-skinned woman that had been sitting with Serina shoved her way forward. “I’ll hear him speak, then we’ll know the truth of it.”

  There was a murmur of agreement across most of the crowd.

  Rather than wait for him to get his bearings, she slapped him hard enough that his lip split with a spray of blood.

  “Speak, you insolent dog! Where did you get this?” Saphinium demanded.

  TJ coughed and pushed a pool of blood out of his mouth. He sputtered, “River. On the cliffs.”

  There was swearing across the room. Each of those with the gift of truthseeing shuffled uncomfortably. Most of them nodded slowly.

  “You gave it to my niece. Why?” she asked. “Why not give it to one of the village elders to hand over?”

  The arm holding him slowly lowered him to the floor, but the angry-looking man didn’t move back.

  TJ took a moment to try to rub his thoughts together as he pressed a hand to his split lip, trying to staunch the bleeding. As he pushed his fingers in, he could feel a tooth missing. He worked his jaw as his mind spun. No matter what he said here, he was probably dead.

  If he lied, or even tried to stretch the truth, they’d see right through it. Nothing but honesty would work, but that put Serina at risk. He pondered that for a moment, then realized that maybe it didn’t. If he leaned into what the Devas thought they were versus how most people felt, he might have some wiggle room.

  “I’m a fool in love. I hoped it would impress her,” he said. He then added carefully, “I wished to remain her consort for as long as possible, but I didn’t know it was valuable. It just reminded me of her eyes.”

  Saphinium’s gaze narrowed. “You attempt to hide in truths. Wait… there’s a tether to you. How do you have a tether?”

  “I have no idea what that means, your holiness,” TJ panted out, blood still pouring from his mouth.

  Now it was Serina
’s turn to look panicked as eyes turned to her.

  Serina gave a formal bow. “Your holiness, I wish to discuss the matter in private.”

  “No,” she replied coldly. “I’ll have my answers now. What exactly is going on here? Who is he to you, and what have you done to him?”

  Serina approached slowly, easing next to TJ. She lifted her hand, and it began to glow. She gently touched his shoulder, and the bloody hole in his lip sealed shut. There was a disturbing sliding sensation in his mouth as his tooth was regrown.

  “If I may have my crystal back, I’ll gladly show you. It’s something better witnessed than spoken,” Serina said smoothly.

  With that, most of the Devas straightened. It seemed that the threat had passed, and all that remained was a family matter.

  They’d validated that TJ wasn’t a thief, and perhaps found something more interesting than watching someone dance. The man who had been holding onto TJ reached into his pocket. He hesitated, but eventually placed the red stone into Serina’s hand.

  TJ had never really noticed how childlike Serina seemed until this moment. Even though Devas didn’t age beyond a certain point, she stood meekly in the center of thirty Devas as though she was a scolded youth whose hand was caught in the cookie jar.

  “Back up, if you would. I’ll need some space. Your seats would work best,” she said, much as though she were in her magical instruction class.

  TJ suspected that Serina was choosing her words carefully, just as he had. He knew that passively sensing lies was a common trait among the Devas, but Serina had told him that not all of them had it. Instead, many used spells or items to fill in that gap, but most required them to be actively checking if that were the case.

  Once the crowd had returned to their chairs, Serina drew a line with her finger across the floor. She then repeated the motion, making a circle around her and TJ. Instantly, the sound of the others was distorted.

  TJ worried they might expect a problem, but none of those watching seemed concerned. Perhaps they thought it was the common spell barrier that novices put around themselves in case of a spell going awry or to isolate them from outside influences. TJ knew that Serina was far beyond such needs, but it seemed the others didn’t know that.