Zane Halloway: Omnibus Edition

by P. T. Hylton

  “Ah, here we are,” Nicholas said as he reached the top of the stairs. He put his hands on his hips and looked out at a view Zane could not yet see. “Look, Ferox Halloway, at my countrymen. Have you ever seen such luxury?”

  Zane climbed the last few steps and joined Nicholas on the platform. He told himself it was the view, not the hundreds of steps he’d just climbed, that was making it difficult to catch his breath. And it was quite the view.

  They stood on a stone platform looking out over the city of Sicar. A few homes, including Gullins’s palace, were above them, but most were built into the sides of the mountains below. And Zane had to admit, the luxury was on display was impressive. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a city so clean. The roads wound serpentine up the mountains, with frequent switchbacks to ease the ascent. Despite the harsh climate here, the roads were made of brick, and Zane saw no potholes or gaps. They were in immaculate condition.

  “Every house you see belongs to a wealthy family,” Nicholas said. “The riches in this city…they are difficult to believe. Most of these families made their fortunes in spices generations ago and are still living off the proceeds. Some still farm, but most had their fill of the violence involved in running a modern, producing spice farm.”

  “And how about you?” Zane asked. Nicholas had the air of someone who’d grown up rich.

  “I was raised not far from here. I come from a farming family. The social status you’re born with doesn’t matter as much with our countrymen as it does with yours. All children are taken away from their parents at the age of five to begin their training. Once they’ve successfully finished training and have proven themselves as warriors, their parents can take them back into the family if they feel they’ve earned their place.”

  “And did yours? Before you threw it all away on a duel, I mean.” It was standard operating procedure for Zane to needle his potential clients a bit. Learning what upset them, how far they could be pushed, and how they’d respond helped him better understand them. It was part of what helped him decide whether he wanted to take the job. But with Nicholas, it was a bit easier. Every time Zane saw that diamond shimmer hanging from the chain on his neck, it wasn’t hard to muster the vitriol to insult the man.

  Nicholas chuckled. “You don’t understand much about Craggish culture, do you? It wasn’t me who agreed to the duel. It was my parents.”

  Zane raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised.

  “It started innocently enough, I’d imagine. My parents had a competitive, but not violent, feud with another farming family. Things escalated over time. Eventually, blood was spilled by one side or the other. There was retribution…” His voice trailed off for a moment. Then he continued. “When both families had sons within the same year, it seemed like a convenient way to settle things. It was decided the two of us would duel when we came of age. The winning family would take possession of a portion of the losing family’s farms. I trained next to my promised enemy for sixteen years before the battle.”

  Zane shifted his weight to his other foot. He’d assumed Nicholas was some hothead who’d agreed to a duel over a slight. He’d never imagined it would be something like this.

  “The funny part is that it didn’t even matter in the end,” Nicholas said. “Six months after my duel, our families were squabbling about something new. I’m banished to the nether regions of the city for life, and it didn’t even buy my family peace.”

  “That must have been…difficult,” Zane said. He was usually better at showing compassion, even when he had to fake it. In this case, he genuinely pitied Nicholas. But the fact that the Cragsman had that shimmer around his neck placed a limit on how far Zane’s empathy went.

  Nicholas nodded. “It was difficult. But it wasn’t unique.” He turned and gestured down the staircase behind them. “Every man and woman in the underneath has a story like that. Some more dramatic, some more mundane, but they all end in the same place.”

  “What about their children?” Zane asked. “Are they banished, too?”

  “That is the one hope most of these people have. When their children are five years old, they’re taken to train with the rest of the children. Then their future depends on their ability to learn to fight. They have the same chances as anyone else. It’s a true meritocracy.” He turned back toward the city. “Or so the people up here would say. In truth, the children of the underneath are often malnourished. They are prone to sickness and have less access to balms and doctors when they are ill. They are starting out so far behind their wealthier peers that it’s impossible for most of them to catch up. There have been a few from the underneath that have made good, but it’s rare. Of course, these people up here say it’s because we are lazy. Or stupid. I ask you, Ferox, in a city so filled with wealth, should it be this way? Should some starve while others have so much?”

  Zane scratched his chin. On the one hand, he was seeing an aspect of the Crags that was never discussed in Opel. The dark side of their supposedly invincible warrior culture. On the other hand, he was here to do a job, and he wasn’t learning much about it. “As much as I am loathe to admit it, I am not all-powerful, Nicholas. Restructuring your society for better treatment of the poor is not a task I am prepared to take on.”

  Nicholas chuckled. “No. That’s my job.”

  Zane felt his hackles raise a bit at that. He nodded toward the shimmer hanging at Nicholas’s throat. “One you’ll accomplish by manipulating the emotions of your people?”

  Nicholas frowned. “Yes. I make no excuses or apologies for that. When I came to the underneath, they were practically feral, fighting for every scrap the rich threw them. Minor leaders would spring up, each reigning for a brief period of time before someone stuck a knife in his back and took the power.”

  “And how did you take power?”

  He looked at Zane sharply. “I did what I needed to do. My hands are not clean of blood. I’ve killed before and I likely will again. But always for the good of my people. I needed them focused. I needed them to get behind me.”

  “You needed them to love you.”

  “Aye, that too,” Nicholas said. “And they need me. My time is limited and the job is large. I’ll take any shortcut I can get, and I won’t apologize for it. Not to you, an abditus-turned-ferox.”

  Zane’s clients often felt the need to rationalize their behavior, to explain to him why what they were doing was right, why it was necessary. He knew they wanted him to voice his agreement, to pardon them of their crimes. As if he was some sort of priest. As if he had any moral authority at all. He never did it. It was his job to find things, to break into people’s homes, sometimes to kill. He wouldn’t excuse himself for the things he’d done and he certainly wasn’t going to excuse his clients. Especially not Nicholas.

  He decided he’d had enough rationalization for one day. “Tell me about the job.”

  Nicholas nodded, then turned toward the palace. “You say restructuring society is no easy task, and indeed it is so. But in the Crags, unlike in your nation, it is at least possible. Gullins rules by virtue of his status as the supreme warrior. Anyone who defeats him in single combat takes his place.”

  “I don’t think I’m the ruling type,” Zane said dryly.

  Nicholas ignored the comment. “He can accept a challenge at any time, but he is required to do so at least once every five years.”

  “So challenge him.”

  “You are indeed a master strategist,” Nicholas said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “The problem is two-fold. Firstly, he bested his last challenger only two years ago, and he has made it clear he won’t be fighting again until he’s required to do so. He says it’s so he has time to rule rather than constantly having to train and fight, but I have my doubts. I believe he may have lost his warrior’s spirit. He’s nearly thirty-five. I’d rather not wait three years to have my next opportunity. Secondly, when the five years are up, there will be a plethora of challengers. He’ll select another noble, likely a friend.
He would never consider someone from the underneath, someone who has already lost a duel with a lesser opponent. Even if he won the fight, the people would grumble that he’d selected an unworthy opponent so he could keep his throne.”

  “I see the problem. What do we do about it?”

  Nicholas smiled. “We give him motivation. Gullins comes from a distinguished family, some would say the most distinguished family in the Crags. They were the owners of the first elevated spice farm three centuries ago. And on that farmland, they unearthed a sizable ruby, supposedly the largest ever found in the Crags. The ruby has become a symbol of their family and their heritage.”

  Zane sighed. “May I assume this is the ruby you wish me to steal?”

  Nicholas clapped him on the back. “Again, you show your powers of perception. We need to give Gullins a reason to accept my challenge. If I were to have his family’s heirloom, and if I were to offer it back to him in exchange for dueling me, he would have no choice but to comply.”

  Zane took a deep breath at looked at the lofty heights of the palace. When Nicholas had told him the ruby was in that place, a twinge of excitement had raced through him. It was a unique opportunity. The best warriors in the Crags, likely in the world, called that palace home. To sneak in and steal a ruby, one that certainly would be guarded by Gullins’s most trusted allies, would be a challenge bordering on the impossible. The very thought thrilled him.

  Sometimes, Zane wondered if there might be something wrong with him.

  But he couldn’t accept the job simply because it was a challenge. The future of a nation was at stake.

  “You have the money to pay me?” Zane asked.

  Nicholas nodded. “Twenty-five Opelean thrones. It will be the second time I’ve paid you that sum, if I recall correctly.”

  Zane wondered how an outcast living in the underneath had that kind of coin, but he didn’t ask. He didn’t want to complicate the morals of this situation any further.

  “I have a few additional conditions,” Zane said.

  Nicholas didn’t even pause. “Name them.”

  “I want your word that, if you defeat Gullins, you’ll send at least one-third of your army to assist Opel in the war against Tavel.”

  Nicholas thought for a moment. “In return, we’d need access to the trade routes—”

  “This isn’t a negotiation,” Zane said. “I have neither the authority nor the inclination. I’ll be giving you your chance at the crown, and that’s worth more than the coin you’re paying. Take it or leave it.”

  The Cragsman nodded. “Done. I’ll send them directly east. Make Tavel fight a two-front war.”

  “I’m not interested in the details. Next, when I have the ruby, I will trade it to you in exchange for the shimmer you received from Jacob Von Ridden.”

  Zane could see frustration in the creases on the Cragsman’s face.

  “You should not press me, Ferox.”

  “If it makes you feel better, you can destroy it instead of giving it to me,” Zane said. “I won’t be a part of helping you win the crown if you keep that shimmer.”

  Nicholas grunted. “Fine. Once you have the ruby, I’ll destroy the shimmer. Now if there are no other conditions—”

  “There is one other condition.” Zane paused, drawing out the tension. “Caleb Longstrain is here in Sicar. I have reason to believe you’ve had some dealing with him. Am I wrong?”

  “You are not,” Nicholas said carefully.

  “I need you to tell me everything you know about what he’s up to before I begin. And when I come into possession of the ruby, I’ll require you to help me find him. I’ll give you the ruby when you have done so. Not before.”

  Nicholas looked at Zane. “You are not of this culture, so you don’t understand how the things you are asking are perceived. You ask for concession after concession, as if I am weak.”

  “I know you are not weak,” Zane said, “and I’m not asking for concessions. I’m merely stating my price. Will you pay it?”

  The Cragsman took a long look up at the palace. “I will.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lily followed Calond and the others up a staircase and out onto a flat roof. It was a huge open space, and she was reminded of the end of her ferox placement exam. That had been on a flat roof, too, and it was there she’d met her first Cragsman. And, she reminded herself, defeated him. Of course, she now knew he’d probably been an outcast, the loser of a duel who’d fled his own nation to avoid the fate of living in the underneath. But how that man had moved. The strength and the speed. The sheer ferocity. It was unlike anything Lily had ever seen. If that was how a loser fought in this society, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see how the winners did it.

  When they reached the center of the roof, the three abditus stopped and turned toward Lily. A stiff wind was blowing, and a chill ran through her.

  Calond must have seen Lily shiver, because he said, “I apologize for the location. I know our temperatures are cooler than those to which you lowlanders are accustomed. Some of the items we wish to show you require…space.”

  Lily did her best to steel herself against the cold. She silently vowed not to shiver again. She couldn’t afford to show even the slightest weakness in front of these people. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  Calond smiled thinly. “Good.” He clapped his hands together. “This is a rare opportunity, Miss Rhodes, rare for all of us. I assume you know about the differences in philosophy between your Abditus Society and our own?”

  Lily said, “I know that your Society is secretive. Unlike the Tavel Society, you don’t share advancements and discoveries with us. And we’re at war with Tavel.”

  His smile dropped slightly. “That’s not exactly accurate. It’s just that our approaches to magic are so different, trying to explain our advancements to your Society would be like explaining a mounted weak arm shot to a boy who had yet to break his first colt.”

  Bernard and Marcus laughed loudly as if Calond had just told a great joke. Lily had no idea what her host was talking about.

  “Lily, may I speak freely?” Calond asked.

  She nodded. If he hadn’t been speaking freely so far, she was almost afraid to hear what he’d say next.

  “We’ve studied the magical devices of Opel, and we’ve found them a bit…well, comical.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Is that so?” She noticed her hand had unconsciously drifted to the hilt of her sword.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Calond said. “You have so many brilliant minds. Our Society is quite envious. We haven’t implemented anything nearly as effective as your Tens test, so I believe many of those with magical potential in the Crags go undetected and untrained. What we don’t understand is why there is so much emphasis on different types of devices. Tangles, shimmers, glides, on and on it goes.”

  “Are you saying you don’t have those things?” Lily asked.

  “I’m saying we don’t need them. And I struggle to see why anyone does. So much energy is put toward creating a thousand subtle and crafty variations of each type of device, each with its own strange way of behaving. I assume you’ve studied the work of Irving Farns?”

  Lily nodded. She didn’t feel the need to tell these Cragsmen about the role she’d played in the famed abditus’s demise. Or that of his daughter.

  “He’s the perfect example of the wasted potential I’m talking about!” Calond said. He was getting excited as he spoke, and his gestures were getting larger. “The complicated tangles he made! And the dozens of different variations. Why do you have so many varieties? We can’t figure it out.”

  “If our devices are so comical, why do you want to hear about them? Why even bring me out here?”

  Bernard, the Cragsman with the spectacles, looked at Calond, as if he were asking for permission to speak. Calond gave him a quick nod.

  Bernard turned to Lily. “To be honest, we weren’t sure we would bring you out here. Our past experiences with Opelean abditus have not be
en productive. But when we saw the dagger you enchanted, it changed our minds. We understand that applying magics to weapons is not a common practice in Opel.”

  “No,” she said. “It isn’t.” That wasn’t entirely true. There were many swords with some type of thorn built into them, and many soldiers carried shields embedded with tangles. But she wasn’t about to tell these Cragsmen that. Not while they were still in the negotiation phase. It was true that she hadn’t seen anyone else use a glide on a sword.

  Calond and his two silent cohorts were watching her intently, as if what she was about to say would solve all their problems. But how much should she tell them?

  She looked at Calond. “If I explain the nature of our devices, you’ll tell me about yours?”

  Calond nodded.

  “All right.” She took a deep breath and tried to remember the way Jacob had explained it to her when she’d known nothing about magic. “All magical devices use the same pool of energy. It’s like a well. Think of the different types of devices as different shaped buckets. Let’s look at thorns and tangles, since they are diametrically opposed. Thorns take the energy and focus it in a specific way to a specific end. The materials used and the way they are formed can cause dramatic shifts in the way thorns direct magic. A minor change could change a fire thorn into an ice thorn.”

  She saw the Cragsmen were all trying to hide smiles. She got the feeling she was talking way below their level. She ignored their expressions and continued.

  “Tangles gather energy and hold it in place. A tangle might be built to protect against a wide variety of thorns, but in that case it will be fairly ineffective against all of them. However, a tangle specifically designed to stop a particular thorn can be fine-tuned to be very powerful indeed, sometimes even making it so that thorn doesn’t function at all.” She thought back to the tangles she’d used to deactivate the Cull Flames back on The Empire pirate ship.