Mastering the Elements: Elwin Escari Chronicles: Volume 2

by David Ekrut

  And he could have none of it.

  Not that the copper winnings would bring much in the way of real wealth, but the games would be richer in other ways. As much joy as it was to take coins away from nobles, there was no sport in it. Gamblers with more to lose played with increased cunning and skill.

  In the chair next to him, Daren sat similarly crouched over his ale. His tan nose stuck out of the hood. It must have taken an entire bull to craft the oversized cloak, and still, the bulk of muscles were impossible to miss. He’d grown a short beard, but anyone looking closely would recognize the man from the sketches. The drawings had improved in quality as they came closer to Metoic.

  He hadn’t been back here since killing Penthrop and his father’s men. Brinnon had likely been the one to commission the bounty postings. He’d probably used the painting of Jax that hung over the fireplace in his mother’s study to make the sketches.

  Even if any of the regulars recognized them, few of the patrons here would be likely to call the guards. Thieves and cutthroats frequented this particular tavern as much as dockhands or miners, and they were none too friendly with the local patrolmen. The Drunken Roost was too far from the inner city to attract many nobles, so none of his father’s cronies were likely to see him. If anything, a bounty hunter might try to collect them, but that was a constant regardless of location.

  “Where in the abyss is she?” Jax muttered.

  “Must you always speak with vulgarities?”

  “Yes. I must. Does it bother you?”

  Daren shrugged. “I just do not see the purpose. And aside from potentially offending people, it makes you sound less intelligent.”

  “I disagree on every point. First, colorful language allows me to be more succinct. For example, if I say, ‘where is she?’, I am conveying impatience. But if I say, ‘where the thump is she?’, I am also expressing my displeasure at the woman’s tardiness. I can add more ‘vulgarities’ to further demonstrate anger and agitation. So, when I say, ‘where in the abyss is that thumping wanker?’, you know how I feel about the situation and the person without the need to further elaborate.”

  Jax took a sip from his ale with his pinky up the way nobles drank tea.

  “Yes,” Daren said, “but those around you might take offense.”

  “I can’t be responsible for what other people choose to be offended by, now can I? Who told them to take offense at these words? I sure as the abyss didn’t. And brevity is more important to me than social propriety.”

  “But people might perceive you as a dullard or vagrant.”

  “Has it ever occurred to you that I might wish for my enemies to underestimate my abilities?”

  “You are hopeless.”

  “See. It even works on my closest friends. And you know better.”

  Daren rolled his eyes.

  An obnoxious laugh erupted from the table in front of him, making Jax jump. Two men in tattered clothes sat alone with several empty tankards on their table.

  “You’d join the guardians?” the larger of the two asked. “You? Oh, Ludrin, you’d stick yourself with a sword just picking one up. What’d the guardians need with the likes of you?”

  “Would not. Besides, they’re offering training and protection from the dragons. And what else can I do for coin? Fewer ships are sailing these days.”

  “I tell you what we can do. Have you heard of the conclave of the Red Moon? They call themselves magi, and they have deep pockets.”

  “Do they now?’

  Jax noticed several of the other men at nearby tables perk up. He did as well. Likely this fool was speaking from the bottom of his cups, but he’d take any chance he could not to indenture himself to Carpeci. Where was the thumping contact?

  “Aye, they do,” the man continued. “And they’ll open their coffers wide for anyone with an artifact of power or anything else made by the Elements.”

  “Oh. Is that all? Where are you figuring to get one of those?”

  “Have you heard of Abadaria?” he said in a lower voice. “From what I hear, artifacts have remained untouched in their vaults for all these years. I know someone who acquired a book telling how to get past the locks. Bought it from a woman calling herself Coin.”

  “The ruins? Are you mad? Thumping minotaurs live there. No one who’s gone in has come out alive. That is why the treasures are still there.”

  “Children’s stories.” The man waved a dismissive hand. “There’s no such thing as a half-man, half-bull creature. And if there were, they are long gone from the city.”

  “Yeah? A month ago, dragons were fairy tales. And why else would treasure remain untouched for three thousand years? Eh? Have you thought of that?”

  “Bah. You don’t have the stones for this. I should have known better than to even bring it up.” The man took a long pull on his drink then gave a look of disgust at the bottom of his empty tankard.

  “Say what you want, Brant, but I like my stones right where they are.”

  A cloaked figure obscured Jax’s view of the table. “Jaxton Fliste?”

  “Who wants to know?” Daren answered.

  The woman pushed back her hood, revealing a pale face. Just beside her eye was a thin scar. Her hair was cut short like a page. She sat. “I am Tessaryn of house Carpeci.”

  “Yes,” he said. “I am Jaxton Fliste. Thank you for meeting with me.”

  “I’m here at the behest of my father. He says you want a job, but I had to see this for myself. The high and mighty lordling deigning to work with criminals.”

  “Do you have something for me or not?”

  “I do. But there is a finder’s fee of ten thousand roses.”

  “Dragons take me. Is that all? I can see I’ve wasted my time.” He started to stand.

  “You haven’t heard the value of the item you will retrieve.”

  He eased back into his seat and gave her a look of impatience.

  “It is an artifact of power, worth at least one hundred thousand roses.” She smiled as he sat up straighter. “I thought that might get your attention.”

  Carpeci wanted the elementalists’ trinkets too. What in the abyss for? Did it matter? Soon, his stash of coins would be depleted. Without gold, he couldn’t stay ahead of the bounty hunters, let alone buy the muscle he needed to defeat his father.

  “Say I believe you,” Jax said. “Where would I find this bauble?”

  She gave him a half-smile. “Slightly more powerful than a child’s toy. Are you familiar with the lords in Wiltshire?”

  “I might have been through there a few times. Who has it?”

  “You agree to pay our fee?”

  “Only if this item truly exists. I have my doubts.”

  “It’s real. I assure you. Once you retrieve the artifact, you pay up. Do we have a deal?”

  “Once I sell the artifact, I pay no more than ten percent of the total. If this trinket is worth what you say, you’ll get your ten thousand. Agreed?”

  “Deal.” She offered her hand. Once he shook it, she said. “Welcome to our crew.”

  “No,” he said, pulling his hand back. “This is a onetime job. Consider me a mercenary. Once I pay you, we are done.”

  “Of course. Whatever you say.” She pushed a sealed scroll across to him. “This has the details of the item you will procure.”

  He took the rolled up parchment and tucked it away. “Good day to you.”

  As he made to stand, she placed a hand on his arm. “There is something more you should know about Brinnon Fliste. But it’s going to cost you. Paid directly to me.”

  “How much?”

  “Another two percent of the artifact’s value.”

  “One.”

  “One and a half.”

  “Fine,” he said. “What do you know?”

  “Bain Solsec ha
s come out of hiding. He, too, is searching for artifacts of power, under the name Mardic of Mansworth. Rather, he will be.”

  “What do you mean, ‘he will be?’ How can you know what he will do?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “We have our ways.”

  “What does this have to do with Brinnon Fliste?”

  “Fliste is Bain’s man, is he not?”

  “You know he is.”

  “Maybe the dragons returning have changed his mind about his liege-lord. What would it take for the Lord Fliste to sell his mines? Could it be possible he has grown a conscience in his older years?”

  “He wouldn’t. If it meant losing profits, Brinnon Fliste would sooner throw a gaggle of babies in a river to drown. He has no conscience.”

  “Such a strong opinion of your own father,” she laughed. “Are you so certain? What if I told you Brinnon has left his business here in Alcoa? Would you give up your quest to see him ruined?”

  “This game isn’t worth fifteen hundred gold. Do you have something to tell me or not?”

  “You are no fun at all, Jaxton. Brinnon Fliste has placed his mines up for sale, and he has acquired estates in Turney Fay.”

  Turney Fay was closer to Kalicodon. Brinnon could not return to the desert kingdom without being enslaved himself. But if the man no longer had his mines, why would he need slavas?

  “I see the wagon wheels spinning in your eyes.” She laughed. “Have you not figured it out? I heard you were the clever one.”

  “If he has given up his mines, I can’t see a reason for him to want slavas. Your father said he was amassing several hundred in the deserts. Besides, I am paying you to tell me information, not give me a puzzle.”

  She huffed out a discontented sigh. “Since the fall of the Ironclad, Brinnon has been acquiring any gladiator slave who can use a weapon.”

  “Slavas gladus,” Jax corrected. “And I know this, already. Your father already gifted me with this information.”

  “What we did not know at the time is that Brinnon Fliste now has close to five thousand or more of the arena fighters, plus another ten thousand of the Ironclad warriors who had gone into hiding. And their hunger for domination is much larger than we assumed. What do you suppose will sate their appetites?”

  “Eriden of the Ironclad is going to take back Eoiasis.”

  “No. They have already succeeded in this. They are looking to the west.”

  “To where? Here? That is madness.”

  “With the tamers cowed, there is no better chance than now. But they are not moving with Bain’s good grace in mind. They are taking what they can for themselves.”

  This changed everything. He would need much more gold than just a single artifact would bring. A hundred thousand would barely get him started. He would need his own thumping army.

  “Is that all?” he asked.

  She inclined her head.

  “Come on, Daren,” he said, standing. “I want to be gone from here before the guards close the gate for the night.”

  As he always did, the huge man drew several stares as he rose. His head came short of the low ceiling, but he still had to slouch to keep the pommel of his massive sword from scraping along as he moved. Tessaryn did not hide her perusal of Daren’s body.

  “Are the stories true?” she asked. “Is this one truly your slave?”

  “Not at all. His freedom is his own. Unlike present company, his father no longer owns him.”

  Her smile faded. Jax did not give her a chance to retort. After backing up several steps, he pivoted and exited. He knew better than to insult a person of her stature then turn his back to her.

  Once he reached the cobbled road, he pulled his cowl lower. He was just another traveler keeping the sun from his eyes and avoiding the fall breeze. There was nothing to see here. He carried his saber on him at all times now, but since the waking of the dragons, most people carried weapons, even if few could actually use them. Daren’s size drew some notice, but even he was less of an anomaly with the winged lizards frequently appearing in the sky.

  A terror-filled scream pierced the air.

  Before he was fully aware of his actions, Jax had pulled his saber and a dagger. He darted toward the square, where a robed figure faced off against two men with swords. By the glowing javelin in his upraised hand, the man was taming Air. Both of his attackers wore the crest of the guardians on their breastplate and cloak. One guardian was already dead at the elementalist’s feet.

  The market was crowded, but they now gave the elementalist a wide berth. Some of the market-goers ran, while others simply gawked. Jax pushed past the crowd, not completely sure why in the abyss he was even trying to help. But he did know why. The sooner these guardians were dealt with, the sooner the thumping fool would stop taming.

  But he was too late.

  A dragon materialized above the skirmish. The two remaining attackers dropped their weapons and sprinted away. The dragon didn’t bother with the guardians, never tearing its eyes away from the elementalist.

  Without pause, the robed figure flew backward between two wagons. The dragon gave chase, ripping through the wood and horses like a child striking down toys. The shattered cart hurtled toward Jax and the crowd around him.

  Not even aware of the little boy beside him until that moment, Jax grabbed him and dove to the ground, using his own body as a shield. Cries of pain and surprise erupted around him.

  Once the sounds of the crash ended, Jax looked up in time to see the dragon seize the doomed elementalist. Sing-song words filled the air, followed by a sucking sound. The elementalist screamed. He looked so small in the dragon’s claws. Once done with the robed figure, the dragon turned his claw as if dropping a gnat to the cobbles.

  More words sounded, then the dragon vanished.

  Jax raised to his knees, but the little boy clung to him, his whole body trembling. Jax embraced him until the boy calmed. He turned the boy’s chin, so he could only see Jax instead of the massacre at his back. The kid couldn’t have been more then nine or ten.

  “Are your parents here?” Jax asked.

  “No. They are at home.”

  “Can you get there on your own?”

  He nodded.

  “Run. Understand?”

  “I just wanted some taffy.”

  “Here,” Jax said, fishing his last silver coin from his purse. “Get some tomorrow. For now, your parents will want to know you are all right.”

  Tears filled the kid’s eyes as he took the coin. Then, he turned and ran without a backwards glance.

  “Will he be okay?” Daren offered Jax his hand.

  He took the help and stood. “No. I don’t think any of us will be okay ever again. Come on. It’s time to go.”

  As they ran for the gate, Jax wondered if he was wasting his time fighting his father in a world where dragons now ruled. He shook away the thought. Brinnon Fliste was a murderer and traitor. The Awakening did not change this.

  Passing through the gate, Jax saw some unattended horses tethered outside a small inn. With all the guards going the other way, he took this opportunity to procure their ride to Wiltshire. After all, Jax was a thief now, planning a heist from one of the most renowned lords of Alcoa on behalf of the most infamous criminal. What was a couple of horses when compared to that?

  Despite his dickering with Tessaryn, Carpeci would consider Jax indebted to him now. The sooner he found that artifact, the better.

  “Are you sure about this?” Daren asked, as Jax handed him the reins of the first horse.

  “No. But what choice do we have?”

  Frowning, Daren climbed into the saddle. “You gave our last coin to that kid.”

  “I still have a gold piece in my boot. If we find a card game in Disputon, I can earn us enough to eat all the way to Wiltshire.”

  “H
ey!” A woman called from the steps of the inn. “Get away from my horses!”

  “Go,” Jax said, leaping atop his new mount.

  “No! They are all I have! Please, come back!”

  Once he sold the artifact, he would return her horses with interest. She would report the theft with the guards, so he could find her through them.

  As he kicked the horse into a gallop, the woman gave chase on foot. He tried to ignore her desperate pleas, but the voice chased him for several miles.

  Chapter 14

  Sacrifice

  Dear Anetia,

  I knew you would ascertain my location eventually, but I beseech you not to mention the activity here to anyone. Though my influence has grown enough to recruit the protection of the incanters, I’d not cause my family any further hardships. As you have reminded me, my first death was difficult enough for them to countenance.

  As you also deduced, your objections have come too late. Due to the pressures of my overseers, I had little choice but to continue. However, I did read your arguments several times over. I will gladly send my logs to you for moral accountability. If it ever appears I am slipping beyond the realm of reasonability, please do let me know. A copy of my first log is on the next parchment.

  ~R., 2994 A.S.

  ~

  Elwin watched in disbelief as Daki drew his blades. He flipped his weapons as he knelt, aiming both tips at his own midsection.

  “Wait!” Elwin shouted. “What in the abyss are you doing?”

  “I am purifying the path so that you may walk in my stead. My life will purchase your place amongst my people. They will provide the knowledge you seek, but there is a cost.”

  “This is madness,” Elwin said, looking into the face of the elder for support. He only saw resolve in the woman’s stony expressions.

  “This is our way,” Daki explained. “Only by my sacrifice can I demonstrate my faith in your worth.”

  “For Life’s sake. Can’t they just look into the future and see that for themselves?”