“Sorry, sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll pay for the dish.” I say towards the bartender. He scowls at me, glaring at me from behind his bar. The rest of the room has gone silent, some people stare at me and other stare at the man on the floor. Caius isn’t going to be happy about this. Surprised gasps draw my attention back to my attacker. He’s risen from the floor, and now has a rather large pistol in his hands.
“Careful boy, you’ll only get one shot.” I tell him, staring straight into the wildly shaking barrel. He gulps nervously, a sheen of sweat coats his face.
“Put it down, pay for my meal and I promise I won’t throw you out that window.” I say in a dangerous tone. “I mean it, I won’t tell you again.”
Boom!
He squeezes the trigger, and in a blast of smoke a ball of lead comes screaming out towards me. It stops in a crackling display of green sparks an inch from my face, the ball hovering for a long second, buzzing as it begins to vibrate. Bit by bit it moves forward, coming through the wall of sparks. That’s not good. It gets halfway through, glowing white hot, before finally dropping where it begins scorching the wooden floor. I glare at the little man in front of me.
“You shot me!” I shout, more surprised that it got as close to me as it did than I am angry. You take too many risks Kearika.
The common room is deafeningly quiet, the other patrons frozen in place. A woman’s shrill scream shatters that silence and the patrons snap back into motion. Some run screaming out the door, others flatten themselves on the ground and a few stay frozen in shock. I need to make sure no one gets hurt. Well, no one who doesn’t deserve it at least. The wiry little man’s gaze shifts rapidly between the gun and me, a horrified expression crawling across his face.
“You shot me!” I repeat, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck. I start dragging him across the room, pulling him as he struggles. None of the other people try to stop me, even as the man pleads for them to help.
“I told you to pay for my meal and walk away, but no! You couldn’t do that. So now it’s out the window with you!” I yell, readying myself to hurl him through the glass. He flails wildly in my grip, alternating between pulling wildly at my wrists and trying to hit me.
“Kearika!” Dammit. I half turn my head to see Caius at the other end of the common room, arms akimbo. I’m in for it now. “You cannot just throw him out the window! We are at a respectable inn, not one of your dives!” He shouts.
“Caius, as much as I love it when you get all assertive, he has this coming.” I say over my shoulder, preparing to throw the wiry man through the window. I’m already in trouble, might as well dig myself deeper.
“Kearika!” Dammit! “You cannot throw him through that window, because we need to know what he knows first.” Caius suggests exasperatedly.
“It’s your lucky day, you get to come back to my room with me.” I say, giving my captive a cold grin. I hoist him over a shoulder, easily lifting his slight build. Walking through the common area is a bit difficult with him kicking and wriggling but it’s not a problem. Caius walks over to the bartender, digging for something in one of his pouches, as I head upstairs. Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.
Chapter XII - Caius
Duras - The Town of Ba’tshish
10th of Telod, 1873 MD
“I am terribly sorry for the disturbance. Is anyone injured?” I ask the barkeep as Kearika carries the man up to our room. I fish around in my pouch for my symbol of office. Where did I put that thing? I really need to keep better track of it.
“A pistol was fired in my bar! Someone could have been killed! Give me one reason why it shouldn’t be you!” He shouts, his thick mustache quivering as he does. Aha! My hand closes around my symbol, a collection of a dozen quartz crystals tied on a string.
I hold it in my hand, palm up as the barkeep starts to splutter “Just what do you think that’s going to change! If that’s a bribe it-”
The crystals quiver in my hand, sparks of blue and green jumping from crystal to crystal as it slowly floats upwards. The largest of them floats upright in the center of a circle formed by the others, radiating from away it like the rays of the sun.
“It...it, I’m terribly sorry master mage! Please, forgive my haste in yelling at you!” He pleads, bowing his head to the wood of the bar. My badge of office bobs up and down above my hand, the crystals now showing a flickering display of blue and green.
“By this badge of office, I proclaim myself a Mage of the Tower. The previous altercation was Tower business. We will, of course, compensate you and your customers for any damages. You are not out of line to be worried.” I finish softly, giving him a small smile.
“T-thank you Sir! Anything you need, anything at all, please just tell me!” He says. The lights from my badge play on the bar and his face as he stares at me. I dislike being so overt, but it cannot be helped.
“I will be returning to my room. I do not want to be disturbed, for any reason. Also, you may hear some, ah, unpleasant sounds. Please do not be alarmed. Finally, I may leave suddenly, I hope you will understand if I do.” I tell him, letting the aether return from my badge back to me. It sinks back down into my hand, once again nothing more than a collection of clear quartz.
“Of course, I understand Sir. Please don’t trouble yourself with anything. Especially not that filth, no one will be missing him.” He says as he comes around the bar and tends to the other patrons. It is so nice to be in a normal town, where people are understanding. I turn and walk back upstairs to my room. As I near the door I hear a quiet thump, when I pull the door open Kearika has her fist drawn back.
“Stop.” I tell her, turning to close the door behind me. When I turn back Kearika is rifling through her pack, muttering under her breath. The man from down stairs has blood splattered all over his fine silk jacket, and I can see the bruises forming on his face form here. I hope he is not someone too important.
Kearika has him bound with quite a bit of rope, his hands and feet individually tied to the arms and legs of the chair. He’s breathing heavily, sweat soaking through his clothes. He looks like he walked through a rainstorm. I walk up to him and raise a hand, he flinches away with a whimper. Even I am not that bad. I would have had the dignity to faint already.
I will a little bit of aether down my finger and into his cheek, the bleeding slows and then stops. Ice cold thorns dig into my mind as I do, pulling at my thoughts. The aether has yet to calm down since we fled Hurendale. The torn skin closes, but the whole time he clenches his teeth and groans. This should not be hurting him.
“Now, tell me why you are here and who sent you?” I ask, speaking slowly. Listen to my words. He glares at me, trying to set his face in a resolute mask.
“Kearika, what are you looking for?” I ask without looking away from him. I hope this loosens his tongue, I would prefer Kearika not have to pummel it out of him.
“I’m trying to find my fishing hooks. I was taught about this thing you can do with a hook. I’ve always wanted to try it.” She says in a happy voice, pulling several small items out of her pack. I spare her a glance, she’s laying out more than just her fishing hooks on the floor.
“Why do you need your sewing kit?” I ask. The bound man is nervously glancing back and forth between the two of us but otherwise stays silent. Tell me what you know. He squirms uncomfortably in the chair, but his mouth remains clenched shut.
“Well, he’s going to bleed quite a bit and I don’t want you wasting your magic on him. Also, there’s this thing you can do with a needle and thread to some of the, uh, softer bits of skin.” She says, turning around to give us both a wide grin. The tied-up man and I both shudder at her expression.
“How, pleasant.” I say, giving the man a wan smile. “Those must hurt, let me make you feel better.” I say, letting more aether heal his wounds shut. I grimace at the aether’s touch, but press on until the damage is repaired. His face looks almost unmarred now, only some slight bruising remains.
�
��Now, who are you? Why are you here? What do you want?” I ask again, staring deep into his eyes and focusing my will on him. You want to listen to my words. He makes a strange choking noise, gritting his teeth but he finally speaks.
“I-I am Laroc, second son of the Viscount.” Laroc’s voice cracks as he says so, the tendons on his neck standing out in stark relief. He’s resisting. I cannot afford to give him anymore aether though. The small amount I’ve used to heal him has left my hand feeling numb and shaking. I could feel the pull to use more aether, to let it flow through me and never let it stop flowing. To let those thorns tear my mind to shreds.
“Good, keep going.” I coo. Keep speaking, keep listening.
“I was sent here to deliver a message to you, or your companion. That you are to leave town by tonight, or suffer the consequences.” He finishes through gritted teeth. His neck flushes a deep red and veins are bulging out of his neck. He is going to have a heart attack if he does not calm down.
“Try to relax. Who sent you?” I ask. Tell me what I want to know.
“I-I won’t tell you, you can’t make me!” Laroc grinds out, tugging at his bonds. His breathing is growing heavier and more panicked as he fights my control.
UNACCEPTABLE.
“It’s just a simple question. Just tell me who sent you, we’ll let you leave.” I say and Kearika gives me a strange look. I struggle to maintain a calm facade, I can hear the voices again, coming from everywhere. Just like the swamp.
Laroc squirms in his seat, tossing his head back and forth like a horse. His fists clench, the rope and chair make small noises as he strains against them. He begins to yell, furiously pulling against his restraints. This is taking too long. Someone is going to wonder what happened to their messenger.
MAKE HIM SPEAK!
The voices are shouting now, a painful chorus that bombards me from every direction. Among them I can hear my own voice, telling me to listen to the others.
I lean forward, until our faces are almost touching. I need to make him tell me what he knows. Just a little more aether, I can handle it. I place a hand on the side of Laroc’s head, he redoubles his struggling and tries to pull his away from me. Keeping my hand in place I let the aether flow through me, forcing it into Laroc. I have no plan for how to use it, no spell to weave or anything else. Just raw power, to make him speak. Laroc lets out an unearthly howl, his struggles cease and are replaced by spastic jerks.
“Tell me what I wish to know.” I hiss at him, sparks of red light fizzling behind his eyes. Laroc begins to sob, throwing his head back and forth as he spasms. With this much aether moving through me, my senses have sharpened. I can hear his heart slamming in his chest, the frantic pumping of his blood as his will crumbles. The alluring smell of the aether buried deep in veins sings to me, calling out for release.
“TELL ME!” I shout, driving even more aether into him. His breathing has a wet, sucking quality to it now. His body is beginning to come apart under my continued assault, I can almost taste the information I want. Just a little more!
Crack!
I lurch to the right, a sharp pain filling my head. Everything is blurry as I tumble to the ground, the voices grow quiet and fade until they become whispers again. Everything fades in and out, my vision dimming as I lay there. A gentle ringing fills my head, and the pressure of the aether vanishes in an instant.
Where am I? What is going on? Why am I on the floor?
I look up and see Kearika standing over me, the Zauberei knife in one shaking hand. Blood glistens on the hilt of her knife and her knuckles. She hit me?
“Kearika, what are you doing?” I ask, starting to get up.
I feel unsteady, I can’t remember the last time I was hit this hard. I do not think I have ever been hit this hard. The link between Kearika and I is completely closed, I can’t sense her at all. Everything feels empty. Being cut off from Kearika is like having my eyes torn out, a part of me is missing.
“Stay down Caius! I don’t want to hit you again!” She shouts, a note of panic in her voice.
I stop and slump to the floor again. What did I do? I look over at Laroc, whose head hangs limply as smoke rises from it. What happened to him? Kearika leans down, the point of the knife shaking back and forth between my eyes.
“What did you do Caius? You just went crazy and killed him!” She shouts in a wavering voice, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Killed him? I was asking him a question!
“Kearika, I do not know what you are talking about. All I did was ask him who sent him and then you knocked me to the ground, I have not done anything!” I finish on a rising note, struggling to stay calm. I begin to panic, and I clench my hands together to keep them from shaking too badly.
“Kearika, it is me, Caius.” I say, staring up into the red flecked eyes of hers. I start to rise again, slowly pulling myself to my feet. I keep my back pressed against the wall as I do, my hands firmly planted against it.
“I don’t believe you.” She replies softly, pulling the knife back to strike. The whole world has gone mad. I cannot have killed Laroc, I have never killed someone before. Never. I did not mean to hurt him!
“I am sorry.” I whisper. She gives a small cry as she thrusts the knife at me, and I screw my eyes shut as she does.
***
Smack!
I open my eyes slowly, Kearika is kneeling over me, her hand raised for another smack.
“I am awake.” I say slowly. Kearika leans in, giving me a piercing stare. There’s no warmth in her eyes, just the steady look of the hunter over her prey.
“Are you, you, again?” She asks softly, the dagger still clenched in her other hand. It’s tip rests above my throat, no longer shaking in her hand.
“I think so. What happened?” I ask, deciding that laying on the ground is the wisest choice. The whispers are back, and the feeling of pressure, but so is the faintest feeling of our bond.
“I was going to kill you, but you fainted dead away as I struck. I figured if you did that, you must really be back to normal.” She says, finally putting the knife away.
“Is Laroc really dead?” I ask, fearful of the answer.
“I think so.” Kearika replies.
Smack! She slaps me again across the face, watching my reaction as she does. I give her a pained glare and rub my stinging cheek. She nods once and stands slowly, offering her arm, and helps me to my feet. As I get up, she pulls me in close.
“You really scared me Caius. Please, don’t do that ever again. You don’t kill in cold blood.” She whispers. Her hug, normally full of warmth, feels more like a drowning woman clinging to driftwood. I woodenly try to return the embrace, but she shies away from my touch. I feel alone.
I glance over at Laroc, seeing his body sitting limply in its bonds. I am a murderer now. I shudder, the aether suddenly washing over me like it used too. It feels like I’m being smothered by a warm blanket, an all-encompassing sensation. What a change from its normal ice-cold touch.
“I am sorry Kearika.” I reply. I know I should feel regret or shame for what I did, but all I feel is alive. The aether races through me, singing its praises and filling me with warmth. I feel invigorated, every inch of me buzzing with power. It pushes aside my shame for what I did, and already my memory of the event is growing cloudy. I must make note of this in my log book.
“I think we should get going, it is no longer safe in this town.” I say, and start collecting my books and supplies. Kearika nods and does the same. We pack in silence for several minutes.
“Caius, how did you make him talk? Before you, well, you know.” She asks lamely.
This is going to be awkward. Maybe I can just gloss over it.
“Well, it is a simple ability really, nothing all that interesting.” I reply, trying to look busy as I sort my things. Smooth Caius.
“Humor me Caius, how did you do it?” She asks, a stubborn note in her voice. She’s stopped packing and has turned to face me. She is focusing in again, like a h
awk.
“When I healed him, I had to use the aether to do so.” I say, buttoning up my pack as I do.
“I know that Caius, and stop giving me the shortest answer possible. You aren’t going to get out of answering my question, and if I think you’re shortchanging me with your answer, well you won’t like it.” She trails off, staring at me with her hands on her hips.
Her fingers rap against the handle of her silver dagger. She would not, would she? The link between us is still almost completely closed off, so I couldn’t be sure. I feel blind without the ability to see what she is thinking. I certainly feel lonely without her presence.
I clear my throat before saying “Very well. Non-mages tend to think of aether as just an energy, a force that mages use. This is not entirely accurate. Aether is a force, but it is a personal force. You may have seen that when I work my magic there is usually a blue color, yes?” Kearika looks up from untying Laroc’s corpse and nods once.
I continue with my explanation “When mages draw in aether to use for magic, we draw it in from an outside source.”
“I know that already Caius, when I began my training. Don’t patronize me.” Kearika interrupts.
I roll my eyes as I reply, “If you would let me finish my explanation, please?” Kearika makes a little wave with her hand and I press on. At least her hand is off that knife.
“As I was saying, mages all draw power from the same source. However, when we use that power, it does not look the same. The same effects, produced by different mages displays different colors, sounds and signs. During my training, the master who taught me healing was from a tribe of who lived deep in the forests to the east. Her healing always smelled like wet mud and herbal compresses. What does it feel like when I heal you?”
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