Fate of Wizardoms Boxed Set

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

“This woman is going to just take me on my word?”

  He grinned. “Say ‘He’ll pay you next week. He promises.’ You do that, and she’ll know it’s me.”

  He hurried around the corner, entered the alley, and almost tripped over someone on the ground.

  “Sorry, Urlan,” Jace said to the homeless man.

  “Ah… Is no problem, Jace.” Urlan waved from his sitting position against the wall, an empty brandy bottle lying beside him.

  Continuing down the alley, Jace walked beneath clotheslines strung between the two buildings, the lines sagging with damp clothing. Two running steps and a leap allowed him to catch the end of a broken line hanging from his own building. Hand over hand, he climbed the line. Once high enough, he braced his feet against the wall and pushed, scrambling to a second story window, hooking his feet on a ledge to keep from swinging outward. Gripping the rope with one hand, he drew his knife and slipped it between the upper and lower pane, flipping the latch open before sheathing the blade again. He lifted the window and stuck a leg in before releasing the rope.

  His living room appeared just as he had left it – clean, organized, and empty save for furniture. He slid in, careful to step to the side rather than on the open bear trap beneath the window. He then went from room to room, disarming the other traps he had left for unwary thieves – the one in his bedroom, the one in the spare bedroom, the one in front of the apartment door. He imagined Narine attempting to enter the apartment via the clothesline. The image spurred a grin and a chuckle.

  In the living room, he approached the fireplace and gripped a gray block that appeared no different from any other. The stone came loose to reveal a dark recess behind it. He pulled the coin purse from the hiding place and replaced the stone. Opening the purse, he counted out three gold pieces, four silver, and a dozen coppers. Gripping the silver pieces and a few coppers, he pocketed the purse and hurried out the back door, locking it before descending the stairs to the alley. He returned to the carriage and exchanged one silver and two coppers for the amulet before bidding the man farewell. The carriage continued down the busy street as Jace turned toward the tavern entrance.

  The Blue Hen hadn’t changed. It never did, which was among its charms. Dark and quiet, there were only three occupied tables and two patrons sitting at the bar. For a midafternoon, the place was busy, but Jace knew it would become far busier when night claimed the city. He spotted Frella emerging from the kitchen with two steaming bowls of chicken soup. He met her beside the table where Narine and Adyn sat.

  “Good day, Frella,” Jace said.

  “Don’t Good day me, Jerrell. You owe me rent.” She placed the bowls onto the table.

  With his hand against his chest, Jace did his best to appear wounded. “Is that all I am to you, Frella? A tenant, nothing more?”

  The woman smiled. “You know better than that.” She held her arms wide, and he embraced her. When she released him, she scrutinized his face. “You need to shave. A bath wouldn’t hurt, either.”

  “I’ll work on it.” He cocked his head. “Did you miss me?”

  “Perhaps.” She shrugged. “You come and go so often I’ve grown used to it.”

  He held his hand out, three silvers sitting on his palm. “My gift to you.”

  She snorted, scooping up the coins. “It’s not a gift when you owe someone, Jerrell. Why three?”

  “I’m paying ahead.” He gave the woman the rest of his coppers before gesturing toward Narine and Adyn. “It’ll also cover their meals. The soup smells wonderful.”

  “I’ll get you a bowl and an ale,” Frella said.

  “Make it two ales,” Adyn said.

  Frella looked at Narine. “What about you?”

  “Do you have any tea?”

  The woman snorted and spun on her heel. “Three ales, coming up.”

  Jace chuckled as he sat across from Narine. “Tea. She thinks you were making a joke.”

  Narine nodded slowly. “I see. So the options here are ale and…”

  A shrug was Jace’s response.

  Frella returned with the soup and ale. The three of them ate in silence. Jace then downed his ale and stood, rubbing his stomach.

  “I need to see a man about a contract. Let me show you to my room so I can be off.”

  He led them outside and down the alley to the back stairwell. “Careful,” he said while climbing the stairs. “Whatever you do, don’t step on the third stair from the top.”

  “Why not?” Narine asked.

  “The step is loose. Extremely loose.”

  “Why not fix it?”

  He stopped at the top, looking down at her standing one stair below the loose one. “I prefer to leave it as a deterrent for unwanted guests.”

  Narine leaned over the edge and looked down. “Someone could get hurt or killed.”

  “I know. Just step over it and you’ll be fine. Oh, and don’t lean on the outer railing.” He turned toward the door and fished his key from an inside coat pocket.

  Opening the door, Jace stepped aside to allow the two women past him. Before Narine could enter, Adyn gripped the princess’ shoulder, stopping her.

  “I go first.”

  With a sigh, Narine waved her past.

  The bodyguard entered, her head on a swivel. She stopped and eyed the rack of crossbows aimed at the door, arching a brow. “What’s this?”

  Jace shrugged. “Just a welcome present for any visitors while I am away. Don’t worry. I disconnected the trigger mechanism.”

  Apparently accepting his explanation, she waved Narine in. “Looks safe. In fact, this is a nice place.”

  Narine stepped inside and looked around while Jace closed the door. He turned to find her meandering across the room, touching a chair, running her finger along the sofa, then stopping to look at the small kitchen and table at the far end.

  “I know it’s not much,” Jace said, “but it suits me well enough.” He reached over and activated the enchanted lamp, bringing a blue nimbus of light to the room.

  “This is much nicer than I expected,” Narine said, turning toward him. “Did you steal all of this?”

  He chuckled. “Hardly. Outside of coin, I rarely keep things I steal. If you aren’t caught possessing a stolen item, you can’t very well be arrested for stealing it.”

  She nodded. “True.”

  He walked down the corridor, stopping beside the first door. “If you wish to wash, there is a tub and soap in here. I paid dearly to install a pump in this room. The water is from the springs beneath the city. It’s cold, but it’ll clean you just the same.”

  Adyn peered into the room and nodded. “A bath is just the thing I need.” She grinned. “Narine may need to take two after the climb in Shear.”

  Narine stopped beside Adyn, her eyes flicking toward Jace. “It’s not as if I can help it. Some of us perspire more than others.”

  “While I would truly enjoy bathing with you ladies, I need to see a man about some gold.” He walked past the women and paused, looking back. “The room at the end is mine. One of you can sleep on the sofa, the other in the chair…unless someone wants to sleep with me.” He grinned hopefully.

  Narine gave him a flat look. “While depraved, you are persistent.”

  He shrugged. “What can I say? I am an overachiever.”

  Jace stepped outside, locked the door, and hurried down the stairs. When he reached the alley, he realized Urlan was gone. He must have left to beg at the square, Jace thought. That nasty brandy he drinks is cheap but not free.

  His hand went to his chest, feeling the amulet beneath his tunic. With it and the death of Taladain, he was due two hundred fifty gold. A grin spread across his face as he imagined what he could do with such wealth.

  Jace unlocked the door, opened it, and slammed it closed, causing Narine to jump from her seat on the sofa.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I am being worked over,” Jace grumbled.

  “Worked over?” Adyn
frowned.

  “The man who hired me to get this…” He held the amulet in his fist, shaking it in anger, “can’t be found and hasn’t been seen in over a week.”

  “You fear something happened to him?” Narine asked.

  “By the gods, I hope not. I just figured he was in hiding because the situation had grown dangerous. If something has happened to him, I’ll never see payment.”

  He then noticed Narine’s hair was wet and she wore the blue dress he had purchased in Shear. The dress matched her eyes, making them pop even in the dimly lit room.

  “What will you do?” she asked.

  Jace sighed. “In this case, I guess I’ll try to track him down. However, I’ve tried in the past, and he has been frustratingly elusive.”

  “What’s this man’s name?”

  “The Whispering Man.”

  “His name is The Whispering Man?”

  Waving his hands in frustration, Jace said, “Of course not. It’s just the name he uses to hide his true identity.”

  He began to pace, considering his next step, when a crack sounded outside, followed by a cry. Jace ran to the door, yanked it open, and stepped onto the landing.

  Urlan lay on the alley below, writhing in pain. The upper portion of the railing and third step from the top were missing, and broken boards lay beside the beggar.

  Narine stopped beside Jace and carefully leaned over the rail. “He’s hurt. We should help him.” She turned toward the stairs.

  Jace gripped her shoulder, stopping her, while calling down to the homeless man. “What were you doing up here, Urlan?”

  “I was…” He groaned. “I was sent to give you a message.”

  “A message from who?”

  Narine elbowed Jace. “Whom.”

  “What?” He looked at her with a furrowed brow.

  “The proper way to say it is whom, not who.”

  He looked at Adyn. “Is she serious?”

  Adyn snorted. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  Shaking his head, Jace shouted down, “A message from whom?”

  “From The Whispering Man.”

  Excited, Jace darted down the stairs, slowing as he reached Urlan’s side. The man clutched his leg, hidden beneath baggy, tattered trousers slick with blood.

  “What is the message?” Jace asked.

  Through a clenched jaw, Urlan said, “You are to meet him at the palace. Tonight. After Devotion.”

  “The palace?” he asked as Narine and Adyn reached them.

  “Yes. Just tell the guards he sent you. They will escort you to him.”

  Blinking, Jace considered the message and the man’s presence at the palace. Things began to click into place.

  I now know how he rose so swiftly and uncontested.

  Narine knelt beside Urlan and pulled his pant leg up. The man’s leg was broken, a shin bone piercing the skin. “I need to heal him or he may never walk again.”

  “You do realize he is a homeless drunk,” Jace said.

  The princess looked up at him with a fiery glare. “Does that make him less human?” she snapped. “Perhaps there are reasons behind his condition. Have you ever asked him?”

  Jace blinked at the heat of her response. “I guess not.”

  “If you have no further objections, I will heal him.”

  “Yes. Of course.” He shrugged, still unsure why it was so important to her.

  “You must help me reset the bone first.”

  “Me? I thought you were healing him.”

  “I am not quite so skilled. It is much more difficult to heal a wound where body parts are not aligned, and don’t even get me started with how difficult it is to repair internal injuries.”

  “Fine,” he sighed. “What should I do?”

  “Pull on his ankle while I press the bone back into place.”

  “What?” Urlan exclaimed in panic.

  “Adyn, hold him down,” Narine said.

  The bodyguard put her hands on the man’s chest, pushing him to the ground.

  Narine nodded toward Jace. “Pull.”

  Jace did as she asked, pulling on the man’s ankle while she pushed on the bone. Urlan screamed as the bone snapped into place. The man lay panting, whimpering, and covered in sweat.

  Narine’s gaze became distant as she held her open hand above Urlan’s leg. Jace felt a chill, his hair standing on end as it did any time he was near someone performing magic. Before his eyes, the man’s torn tissue wove back together, leaving nothing but dried blood as a reminder of the injury. Urlan screamed again, then passed out.

  “It is done.” Narine wearily rose to her feet and wiped her brow.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. It just requires much effort.”

  Without a word, Jace turned and walked back to the stairwell, climbing it while lost in contemplation. He stepped over the missing stair, thinking he needed to find another board to replace it before his mind returned to the looming problem. Returning to his apartment, he settled on the chair and stared at the fireplace.

  For some time, he had suspected The Whispering Man was a wizard. The man requesting they meet at the palace reaffirmed the notion, yet added another layer of concern. Any wizard at the palace would be highly connected and could be working for Malvorian himself.

  Why would a wizard pay such a sum to kill the wizard lord of another nation? The conclusion left him cold.

  He blinked and noticed Narine and Adyn sitting on the sofa, the two women staring at him in concern. How long have they been sitting there?

  “Are you all right?” Narine asked.

  “I hate to ask this, but I…” He struggled for the words.

  The princess reached out and put her hand on his. “Yes, Jace?”

  “I wish to ask a favor. A real one.”

  “Anything,” Narine said without hesitation. “I owe you so much at this point and would prefer to begin paying back my debts before they get beyond my control.”

  The thought of making a crass request crossed his mind but was chased away by worry. “Will you please accompany me to the palace? Meeting this man on uneven ground would place me at a disadvantage, and I fear what that entails. Worse, it feels like a trap.”

  Sighing, Narine sat back and glanced at Adyn, who gave a firm nod. “It will be dangerous for me, as well, but you have risked much to get me this far.” She nodded resolutely. “I will do it.”

  He felt relieved, yet also worried. In the past, his preference to work alone was driven by the fear that someone else’s blunder would lead to failure or even his own demise. He was now met with a fear he had never before considered.

  Please, don’t allow anything to happen to her because of me.

  15

  Temptation

  Time had passed, undoubtedly, but while locked in an internal battle between his people’s beliefs and the immoral nature of his needs, Rawk had lost awareness of such things. From the moment the cell door had closed, he had done nothing but hum, his eyes clenched, hands over his ears, body rocking back and forth. In such a state, he didn’t hear Rhoa’s call until it became a shout.

  Lowering his hands, he asked, “Rhoa?”

  “Yes,” came her muffled voice. “Are you all right?”

  “I…” Am twisted. Disgusting. Corrupted. “I don’t know.”

  “The guard… He has fallen asleep. I believe it is late. Perhaps the middle of the night.”

  Rawk was unsure. The song continued, flooding his mind and clouding his thoughts.

  “Can you use your, um…magic?” She sounded hopeful. “Can you get us out?”

  Blinking at the thought, Rawk put his hand on the wall between them. It would be easy. Beyond Rhoa’s cell, he sensed Salvon in another. Beyond that, a corridor. His breath caught as he considered answering the siren’s call.

  I mustn’t, he told himself.

  Another part of him said, You must save Rhoa and Salvon. When you do, you can lead them to the cave. It is for your friends. All w
ill be well.

  He knew better. The song continued to beckon.

  “Stand back,” he said, digging his fingers into the stone.

  Willing the rock to give, to separate, to crumble, he dug handfuls of stone out and tossed them aside. In moments, his hand broke through into Rhoa’s cell. A few breaths later, a section of the wall broke free. He stepped through and looked at her.

  Rhoa’s vision was not as good as his, so she stared into space a step to his side, appearing as fierce, brave, and beautiful, as always.

  “That was quick,” she said. “Let’s free Salvon and get out of here.”

  “The best route is beyond his cell. Follow me once I break through.”

  “I will.” Rhoa put her hand on Rawk’s shoulder, her tone softening. “I am here for you, Rawk. Remember, I am your friend. If something is wrong, you can tell me.”

  I am infected and impure, he screamed in his head. “I’m fine. Now, stand aside. I don’t wish to hurt you while I fashion the opening.”

  She did as requested, and he turned to the wall. The stone was smooth and cold beneath his palms, but he felt every striation, each fissure ready to be exploited. The stone submitted to his will, as it always did. In moments, he had crafted an opening.

  “Salvon?” he said.

  “Yes. I am here.” The man’s voice came from near the cell door.

  “Stay where you are.”

  Without waiting, Rawk formed a crack below the hole, shaping the door before pushing it into the opposing cell, the rock crashing to the dirt floor.

  “What was that?” the guard exclaimed from outside the cell.

  “He is awake,” Rhoa whispered in alarm.

  “I have an idea,” Salvon said. “Rhoa, remain in your cell for a moment.” In a weak voice, he cried out, “Help! A block from the ceiling fell in. I can’t move my legs.” Salvon then turned to Rawk and lowered his voice. “Pick up a stone, hide in the corner near the door, and bash him over the head when he enters.”

  Rawk did as the old man asked, using both hands to lift a big chunk of stone while Rhoa hid in her own cell. He pressed his back against the front corner of the cell, just beside the doorway. The sound of a key sliding into the lock had his heart pounding. It clicked, and the door swung open. Light bled into the cell, revealing Salvon in the far corner, his legs seemingly covered by a big section of stone. Salvon put on a convincing act, groaning and writhing in pain.