Forge the Path of Sorcery

by NAK Baldron

  "Nine for me," Captain Kaito offered. "You're special boy. Those diplomats may have known what they were saying when they sent you on this trip."

  "Aye," Tomoko added.

  * * *

  Ren spent the rest of the day resting in his quarters while the crew prepared crates in the hold. They'd unload several tons of cargo crates once docked.

  "Lower sails," Captain Kaito called out over the sounds of creaking wood.

  Ren stored his portable terminal in his trunk and locked its clasps for security. After a quick double-check to ensure he packed all of his belongings—what little they were—Ren hoisted the trunk from under his cot and made his way to the deck. During his four days at sea, he'd earned his sea legs through and through. So he had no problem carrying his trunk through the hold and up the stairs, in spite of the ship rocking against the waves.

  Ren stopped at the top of the stairs, struck by the beauty of the Sapphire Nation's capital city. He'd always been impressed by the Pearl Nation's docks back home, but they were tiny by comparison. Over thirty large cargo ships like the one he was on floated comfortably in the bay. An uncountable number of smaller fishing boats easily slipped between the ships as they came and went.

  The island had beautiful beaches with sand as white as the permafrost on the Ice Plains. A stone wall set back from the beach showed weathering from centuries of the tide coming in, with an occasional repaired stone amongst the older ones. Atop the stone wall were long stretches of wooden stalls connected to one another, where merchants offered goods to sailors.

  "Salt and Gold," a voice cried out from the ocean below the deck rails.

  "Fish and Rain," Captain Kaito called back from atop the quarterdeck.

  Ren rushed forward to the rails to see who greeted them. A small boat with four men, cloaked in royal-blue robes, floated near the port side of the ship.

  Tomoko stepped beside Ren and called, "Heads up."

  A rope ladder dropped from its curled-up, stored position alongside the hull, and two of the men climbed aboard the ship with an air of owning it.

  "Imperial Customs," Tomoko whispered. "Watch your tongue."

  Ren gave him a curt nod. He had zero intention of speaking.

  One man made his way to the hold while the other climbed the stairs on the starboard side to the quarterdeck to meet with Captain Kaito. Tomoko gestured for Ren to follow. Ren kept back a few paces.

  "Where are you sailing from?" the customs officer asked.

  "Pearl Nation," Captain Kaito said. "Short trip there and back."

  "Papers?"

  The captain pulled a set of papers from a pocket inside his linen vest and offered them up for inspection.

  "Says here you took on a passenger?"

  "Aye." Captain Kaito pointed to Ren. "There he is."

  Ren felt like a fool standing behind Tomoko with his trunk in tow.

  "What brings you to the Sapphire Nation?" the customs officer asked.

  "I'm here for the examination."

  The man's eyes widened at Ren's response. He walked to Ren and looked him over closely. Unlike Captain Kaito, this man was a foot taller than Ren and paper-thin. If not for the robes, Ren thought a strong breeze might blow him away.

  "Pearl Nation hasn't attended an examination in several years. You must be a national hero."

  "No, sir," Ren said before he could think better of it.

  "Oh?" The man's eyes narrowed as if he knew of Ren's troubles. "Why not?"

  Seeing no way out of it, Ren continued. "Everyone back home has turned away from magic. They're all concerned with science and technology. My mentor saw to it that I come for the test because no one else cares. If I pass, I'll be the first in over three hundred years."

  "If . . ." The man agreed and turned back to Captain Kaito. "Your papers are in order. You're cleared to dock at East Dock Fifteen."

  "Thank you, sir." The captain bowed his head as he reclaimed his ship's papers.

  "Sueun guide your course."

  "And yours," Captain Kaito said, and both he and Tomoko bowed to the customs officer as he left.

  The second customs officer waited on deck as the first climbed back down the stairs. "All clear."

  "Excellent, they're clear to dock."

  With the paperwork covered, both men climbed back down the rope ladder, and four sailors used the attached rope lines to pull it back up against the bow. While the other men hurried about to get the ship prepared to dock. Down in the hold, a team of men rowed through the gun ports, where cannons could be rolled out if they encountered pirates. They moved at a gruelingly slow pace as they made their way to the east side of the island for docking.

  * * *

  Once docked, Ren rushed to disembark, but Tomoko pulled him aside before he could.

  "I wish you all the luck and hope you pass the examination," Tomoko said.

  "Thank you," Ren said. "I hope you get your ship soon."

  Tomoko smiled. "When the time is right. Captain Kaito would be lost without me."

  "Would I now?" The captain leaned over the rail on the quarterdeck to look down on them.

  Tomoko straightened his stance and drew his shoulders back. "Aye, sir."

  Captain Kaito unleashed one of his deep laughs, and the tension melted away. "Perhaps. Is the boy ready?"

  "Yes, sir," Ren called up to him.

  "Did you warn him?"

  "Not yet," Tomoko said. "You've never been to the Sapphire Nation?"

  It took Ren a moment to realize it was a question. "No. I've never left home."

  "Our people are not like your people," Tomoko spoke in a voice used to explain obvious things to children. "We're a nation of caste and honor. As I understand it, the Pearl Nation ignores birth rank. But everyone here is subordinate to someone else from the day they're born. Keep this in mind when dealing with the merchants and traders."

  "What's the difference?" Ren thought the terms meant the same thing.

  "Merchants own shops and rank higher than traders, much like us. We trade between islands and merchants. But, the most important thing to know is our cities are full of thieves and beggars. They make up the fourth and fifth castes. Don't trade with them and avoid the areas of the city they own."

  "Okay," Ren agreed but didn't understand what Tomoko meant. Obviously, he'd avoid thieves, but beggars? Either way, he intended to mind his own business, pass the examination, and join the Amethyst Nation.

  "Perhaps our paths will cross again."

  "I hope so." Ren offered his hand, and Tomoko clasped his forearm and gave it a strong squeeze.

  "Sueun guide your course."

  Ren didn't know how to respond so he tilted his head in acknowledgment, which seemed to be correct. Because Tomoko smiled at him one last time before letting go of his arm and returning to his work unloading the ship.

  Ren was halfway down the ramp when Captain Kaito grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. "Where do you think you're going?"

  "To find out where the examination is happening?"

  "Without saying goodbye?" Captain Kaito chuckled his usual laugh, obviously finding his own jokes funny. "I like you, boy. You've got focus and salt. If half my men had your daring, I'd own the ocean."

  Ren smiled and offered his hand. "Thank you, Captain Kaito, for getting me to the Sapphire Nation in one piece."

  The captain shook Ren's arm in the same manner Tomoko had. "If you need passage back home, ask for me at any dock and they'll be able to tell you when I'm expected back. I make the run down to Pearl Nation every other trip. I'd be glad to have you aboard. I hope it's not needed though. You'll pass that examination."

  "Me too," Ren said, more to himself than to the captain.

  "Take care," Captain Kaito said. "And if you need a room for the night, don't stay in a dockside inn. Try for the center of the city, near the nobles' quarter."

  "Thank you," Ren said. Then thinking of it added, "And may the winds be true."

  Captain Kaito let out a lou
d laugh and waved him off as he walked back on deck to watch over his men hoisting crates out of his hold.

  Ren found a city watchman at the end of the docks and asked, "Where is the Amethyst Nation examination being held?"

  "At the Royal Palace, of course." The watchman looked Ren over like he was a simpleton and added, "But it's not for nine days."

  Ren tried to ask where the palace was, but the man shooed him off.

  Heeding Captain Kaito's advice, Ren passed up the dockside inns in search of a place to wait out nine long days.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Pearl Nation, Fencura

  Cold winds off the Ice Plains blew in from the south. Turning the humid air of the port city into ice and snow. Brandon bundled himself tighter into his coat and pulled the heavy hood over his wool knit hat, which already protected his ears. It was nights like this that killed men in the streets.

  Brandon doubted George would turn up. It had already been fifteen minutes. He was just about to leave when a short man limped out of the shadows of an alley.

  "Had to make sure we weren't being watched," George offered in lieu of a greeting.

  "I understand, but it's damn cold. Let's talk quickly."

  George's coat-hood barely reached Brandon's chin, and as he stepped closer, Brandon smelled the pungent odor of a man who didn't bathe.

  "How much are you offering for the reactor?"

  In the lamplight, Brandon could see that George's teeth had turned black from decay. His breath reeked worse than his body. Brandon looked up to the complete blackness of the night sky and breathed what fresh air he could to clear his nose of the stench.

  "Three-hundred thousand credits. Provided the reactor hasn't been damaged."

  George twitched at the price, and his hood slipped back enough to give Brandon a clear view of his eyes—powder pink. There was no doubt—George was a dust head. Brandon knew all too well about the harms of "spirit dust," as addicts called it. In truth, it was a slurry of cleaning chemicals and electronic sludge. A powerful cocktail that offered the user a euphoric experience and, in higher doses, complete hallucinations.

  While illegal to sell, there were no regulations about consuming spirit dust. Every citizen was free to ruin their lives as they saw fit. The average spirit dust user was dead within five years.

  George seemed to regain control of himself and pulled his hood up. "Three hundred isn't enough. We were offered seven hundred from the man who set up the heist."

  An inside job?

  "Who set up the heist?"

  "Don't know." George never stopped fidgeting. "We never met him. He sent us coded messages and a small upfront payment. He provided all the details. We were the bodies."

  "How many of you were involved?"

  "I'm no rat!"

  Brandon raised his hands in apology. "Just curious. Like I said, if the reactor is intact, I'll pay. I can go as high as Five hundred thousand."

  George's eyes bounced left to right repetitively, as he weighed Brandon's offer. One of the worst side effects of spirit dust—or lack thereof—was addicts never lost the use of their intellect. If anything, dust heightened it. A common duster story claimed spirit dust was developed by a mathematician attempting to make a clean stimulant he could use to focus for days at a time. Technically, spirit dust would allow the user to focus for days. But addiction quickly set in, and they lost nearly all impulse control.

  "I think we can accept that," George whispered.

  Brandon couldn't tell if the statement was meant for him. "Do we have a deal?" He reached his gloved hand out to shake.

  "I have to run it by my crew, but I think we have a deal." He shook Brandon's hand, and for a moment George looked like any other upstanding citizen. "Damn fucker left us with no option. Hasn't responded to our messages since the heist. We ran out of credits today. Any chance we can get an advance? A sign of good faith?"

  Brandon weighed his options. There was a good chance this was a scam and George didn't have the reactor, but on the off chance he had stolen it, Brandon needed to keep him happy. He unzipped his coat and pulled out a wallet from his inner pocket. Inside were three translucent, plastic sheets, worth five hundred credits each. He handed all three to George and made sure to let him see the wallet was empty, before putting it away and zipping his coat back up. He breathed hot air into the top of his coat to push out the cold that slipped in during the exchange.

  Pull this off, and I'll be the most powerful man in the city.

  "When can I pick up the reactor?"

  George's pink eyes locked on Brandon's and for a moment it looked like he'd attack. "I'll message you in a day or two if the others agree to sell."

  "You'll not get a better offer."

  George stepped closer, and his odor accosted Brandon again. "Are you threatening me?"

  "Of course not." Brandon stepped back, hands held up. "I'm just telling you that I can't go any higher. Five hundred thousand is everything I have. I'll probably have to take a loan out to come up with that." A lie, but a necessary one. The meeting needed to end.

  "Two, three days max, you'll hear from me."

  George didn't wait for him to respond. Twitching his head left to right, he slipped back into the shadows of the alley he'd come from.

  Five hundred thousand was negligible compared to what Brandon invested in shares of Pearl Power. Though it was enough to buy two or three more houses. He took a deep breath, savoring the clean salt air. Billows of steam engulfed his head as he exhaled, and the wind died, leaving behind an icy sauna.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Texas, Earth

  Saturday, September 3rd

  The unfamiliar ringtone brought Kandice out of her deep sleep and sent her heart thumping.

  "Hello?"

  "Did I wake you?" Lance's voice echoed through her phone, and she held it away from her ear.

  "No . . ." she lied and paused to shake the sleepiness from her voice, "it's okay. What's up?"

  "Can you meet? Slava said you stopped by yesterday. We have some things to discuss."

  "Where do you want to meet?"

  "You pick," Lance said.

  She debated on her aunt's house but ruled it out as impossible. "I can come back over there."

  "That works. Can you be here in an hour?"

  "Let me get dressed." Kandice rolled out from under the covers into a sitting position. "I'll head over there right after."

  "See you then." Lance hung up.

  The phone also had a text message and a missed call.

  Lance: Can you meet?

  It must be important.

  Kandice tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes—the long nights and early mornings were wearing on her.

  I'm too young to feel this old.

  After a quick shower and putting her hair up in a towel to dry, she took fifteen minutes to decide on an outfit. She wanted something that could accentuate her curves, but not scream "Open for Business."

  Kandice's hair was still damp—thank goodness it didn't need to be a no frizz kind of day. Her hair routine took up the majority of her mornings. Why couldn't she have been blessed with messy bun hair? Blake was still asleep, and her aunt was in the living room as she walked downstairs. Kandice said hi and bye as she went into the garage for her moped.

  As she closed the garage door, her aunt walked out the front door, but there was no point in stopping to chat. It would only end in an interrogation. Kandice was willing to accept any apartment. Anything to leave her aunt's bullshit behind. The constant disrespect from treating her like a child was too much.

  * * *

  The small truck Lance drove was in the driveway—next to the Honda—when Kandice pulled up to her old house. It was surprising to see the same cars twice. She assumed they hunted 24/7 and traded out as often, but realized they must only trade out after they kill an Aether Walker.

  Before she could knock, Slava opened the door. "Hello Kandice. Please, come in. Lance is in the living room."


  "Thank you." Kandice walked in and took her usual seat on the sofa.

  "Can I offer you a drink?" Lance asked.

  "No, thank you. No offense, but you two seem to drink a lot."

  "Yes," Slava said. "It helps with the pains."

  "What pains?"

  "When I shift," Lance began. "It drains my energy. Sometimes, if I stay in that form for too long, I'll lose consciousness. The vodka helps fortify us against it."

  "So, you're just drunk all the time?"

  Their alcohol consumption was becoming worrisome. With each visit the tension built in her chest more. If they were as bad as her father, there was no way for them to be allies.

  Drunks can't be trusted.

  "Not exactly," Lance said. "It's true we have alcohol in us all the time. But, it doesn't affect us the same as others.

  "Slava can never shift again. It took too much out of him. We use vodka to prolong the effects. Without it, I would end up like Slava much sooner."

  Kandice weighed his words. Alcoholics justify their drinking to themselves and others with ease. Her father had a list of justifications as long as the UT Tower, but he never fooled her. Yet, something about Lance and Slava assured her they were genuine in their reasons.

  Am I deluding myself?

  "Will I have to drink to shift?" she asked.

  "We do not know if we will teach you yet," Slava said.

  "What my grandfather means," Lance gave Slava a stern look, "is we still have questions for you before we can trust you. And, there is always the chance you won't be able to become an oboroten. Not everyone can."

  "At some point, we have to agree to trust each other," Kandice said. "I'll never not stop fighting. This is my life!"

  Kandice tried to stay calm. The do-we-trust-each-other dance was overdramatic. They could all see the Aether Walkers. What more was there? They needed each other. It was time to trust one another and move on. If they didn't, it would kill her hope for revenge.

  Slava nodded and pulled out a folder from inside the coffee table. He laid it out next to the vodka.

  "This is our target," Slava said.