Forge the Path of Sorcery

by NAK Baldron

  "I've seen your currency before. You're from the Pearl Nation?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Go from here." He pointed to the door. "Two blocks down, take a right, at the end of that corner is Mr. Sato's shop. He'll exchange your currency for our local coinage. When you're done, come back and have a meal, but like I said, the room is unavailable."

  The bartender handed back Ren's credit, and he slipped it into his wallet. Ren grabbed his trunk and rolled himself out of the bar with what dignity he could muster. A business owner had never treated him so rudely. Even though he was an orphan, businesses of the Pearl Nation gave him the same basic respect as any other guest.

  * * *

  Mr. Sato's shop was easy to find, with a window twice as tall as Ren displaying elegant jewelry made from precious gems mined throughout Fencura. The wooden front door was reinforced with iron. The extra weight made it difficult for Ren to push it open.

  Mr. Sato looked up from his desk behind a counter which displayed more finely crafted jewelry. "Currency exchange?"

  "Yes, sir."

  He gestured for Ren to come closer. They met at the far end of the shop where a solid metal table stood upon the bedrock foundation of the building. A series of three scales sat on the desk, from one large enough for Ren to sit in to one so small his wallet wouldn't fit on top.

  "How much would you like to exchange?"

  Mr. Sato gestured for Ren to place his currency on the metal table, but all the precious gems spread throughout the shop distracted him.

  This must be the safest part of the city. A thief could retire with one heist.

  Mr. Sato snapped his fingers and recalled Ren's attention to the conversation at hand. From his wallet Ren laid out every credit Brandon gave him, 1,820.

  "Pearl Credits. And will you be wanting that in Sapphire Coinage?"

  "Yes, sir."

  With two quick turns, Mr. Sato produced a small trunk upon the desk. Inside the box, metal walls stretched from the lip to the bottom, dividing the trunk into a checkerboard pattern. Four sections held various sized gold coins, two held silver coins, and the other six contained weights Ren recognized as true-steel. They reflected the light as a white sheen. Mr. Sato gave Ren's stack of credits a quick swipe to fan them out and, with his right hand, stacked weights on the middle scale. Using an array of gold and silver coins he balanced the exchange rate.

  Mr. Sato took two of the larger silver coins from the pile and displayed it in his palm, "My fee," before placing them back in the trunk. He pulled a sheet of hemp from the lid of the trunk, and with a charcoal pencil tallied up a receipt for Ren.

  BILL OF EXCHANGE

  1,820 Peal Nation Credits

  Transmuted into

  1 Half Mark

  1 Quarter

  4 Half-Quarters

  5 Silver Marks

  20 Silver Quarters

  Total

  11oz hard coinage

  X_________________________

  "Sign on the 'X' and I'll bag these up for you."

  Ren read the receipt. "I'm sorry sir. I don't understand your currency."

  Mr. Sato gave a small bow. "Apologies." He held up the larger of the two square silver coins. "This is a Silver Mark, and it is worth one-eightieth of a Mark." He pulled a large square gold coin from the trunk as an example, before placing it back.

  "Now, I've given you one Half Mark." He held up a rectangular gold coin. "Which would be worth forty Silver Marks. Your Quarter," he held up a smaller square gold coin, "not to be confused with a Silver Quarter, is worth twenty Silver Marks." He laid the Quarter next to a Silver Quarter.

  "I've given you four Half-Quarters, each worth ten Silver Marks." He pointed to the smallest rectangular gold coin. "Silver Marks I've explained, and finally you have your Silver Quarter. I've given you twenty, since they're the most common coinage used amongst the local merchants."

  Ren could tell Mr. Sato thought him simple. After hearing the explanation, it was clear why, the coinage was easy to understand. "But wait. What is one of my credits worth compared to your coinage?"

  "Last I checked, the true rate was about fifteen and a half credits to one Silver Mark, and I charged an extra credit per Silver Mark."

  It seemed reasonable, but Ren was blind to the ways of money and the market. One downside to growing up an orphan, no one taught him the intricacies of commerce like so many other young men of the Pearl Nation. He signed his name without complaint, and Mr. Sato placed the bill onto another blank sheet face down. Using a large roller—the kind bakers prefer for rolling sweets—Mr. Sato pressed the two sheets together six times. When he finished, they were mirror reflections of each other.

  Ren took the original while Mr. Sato kept the copy and rolled it up to prevent smudging. "Sueun's blessing."

  Ren bowed in gratitude.

  "If you're looking for a place to stay, you'll best be served on the east side of the city. None of the establishments around here will rent to you."

  "I just found that out, before a bartender sent me to you."

  Mr. Sato offered a half-smile. "You're welcome in my shop any time." He handed Ren two leather pouches. One containing the Silver Quarters and the other the remaining coinage.

  With his business concluded—and a walk ahead of him—Ren ignored his urge to look around the shop and said goodbye after thanking him.

  Following the road north, he soon found himself butted up against the outer palace walls. Standing sixty feet high, they cast a dark shadow upon the street below where Ren stood. The road ran east and west along the stone wall leading to both ends of the island. With the northern three-quarters of the island blocked off as the private estate of the emperor and his family.

  Ren's legs burned from walking all day, but he kept putting one foot in front of the other as he pulled his trunk east in search of a place to sleep and a hot meal.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Pearl Nation, Fencura

  Brandon hovered high enough over the city to see the double spiral pattern formed by the street layout. One spiral emanated from the port, and the other from the new heart of the city. Where the top companies established themselves.

  In the new city core, five buildings stood above the rest. Towering over their competitors to show off their wealth and prestige. The largest of these buildings belonged to Pearl Power, where Brandon had a morning meeting. Brandon reduced the RPMs of his hoverpod's motor, slowing its six rotating propellers and bringing the craft into a controlled descent. The hoverpod jerked slightly as he leveled off atop Pearl Power. Once landed, he parked in the designated area next to several others.

  An egg-shaped vehicle powered by a liquid mercury core, hoverpods were the most efficient means of travel but financially prohibitive to most citizens. Since they were a means of travel for only the wealthiest of the Pearl Nation's citizenry, Brandon preferred to keep his hidden on his roof underneath a tarp.

  Brandon took the stairs down to the executive floor. He was taken aback by the sheer grandeur of the building. Solid panes of glass wrapped around all four walls, giving the impression of floating in midair. To the right of the stairs was an elevator that didn't obstruct his view of the city, spiraling out to the point where it met the Ice Plains. He could even make out the research outpost he visited to hunt for new artifacts.

  A receptionist wearing a skintight red dress greeted him. "Welcome, Mr. Everly. If you'll follow me, the other board members are awaiting you."

  Brandon followed her and rolled his eyes at the sway of her hips. Knowing Belfry, Brandon suspected it was the reason for hiring her. On the far side of the floor sat a table made of a solid piece of polished cedar, long enough to accommodate twenty people. Today it only sat four.

  A middle-aged man, with a thin frame and balding gray hair stood to greet him. "Welcome Mr. Everly. Please join us." He wore a well-tailored three-piece suit. Brandon assumed him to be Henry Velden. The man he had messaged, indicating he knew how to recover the lost prototype.
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  Brandon took a seat on the side closest to where he stood. A woman he didn't recognize—younger than himself—sat on his side of the table, while the other board members sat across.

  "Mr. Belfry won't be joining us today," Henry continued. "We felt it would be best to discuss your proposal without him."

  "You and Mrs. Monty are our first new board members in nearly five years." Henry and the two other board members bowed their heads in a way of acknowledgment.

  The scantily dressed receptionist returned, carrying a tray of glasses and drink options. Brandon pondered what the appeal of having such a receptionist might be as she took a seat five down from Mrs. Monty, produced a portable terminal, and began to take notes. She was more than a receptionist.

  Records of our meeting?

  Henry nodded toward his left. "This is Jennifer and Jeremy Kolstad. They've been with us since their father passed. Combined they control twenty-five percent of Pearl Power."

  "Twenty-seven percent," Jennifer interjected. "I acquired the shares yesterday when I heard we'd have new board members." She gave Brandon and Mrs. Monty an evaluating look that reminded him of a frost-wolf sizing up an invader to its den. Mrs. Monty fidgeted under the pressure of her stare.

  "With the pleasantries handled," Henry proceeded as if Jennifer hadn't spoken. "Perhaps you'll be so kind as to explain why you think you're in a position to return an allegedly missing prototype."

  "I'd like to know why you've taken a ten-percent stake in our company?" Jeremy asked.

  Brandon returned his stare. There was nothing they could do to intimidate him, and he was perfectly happy to let them know it. "You're mistaken. I control fourteen percent of Pearl Power outright. And suspect I'll be able to sway an additional two percent for voting purposes if needed."

  He took a glass of water from the tray, taking a slow sip to draw out the tension. Jeremy and Jennifer sat uncomfortably in their seats, each playing with their hands. Henry didn't move or give any hint of his emotional state. Either he was fully aware of how powerful Brandon was or indifferent to the outcome.

  "As for your lost prototype," Brandon began. "It's not 'allegedly' lost. It was stolen by a small team. I'm in a position to return the prototype because I've met with the head thief. Turns out Pearl Power has enemies willing to pay for the theft of your technology but unwilling to buy it after the fact. Meaning it was likely a ploy to ruin public trust in Pearl Power.

  "I bought into Pearl Power because I see the value in the company and thought the market would try to overcorrect itself at the news of your loss. I was right. I acquired my position for a fraction of the actual value. I suspect I stand to make a two hundred percent return on my investment by the end of the year."

  Brandon took another drink of water, and the four other board members drank from their own glasses. All five of them were likely thinking the same thing. If Brandon expected to see a ten-fold return on his shares, they too were poised to make a fortune—or rather grow their already considerable fortunes. There were no poor citizens on the boards of the top five companies.

  Henry broke the silence. "What assurance can you make that you weren't the person behind the heist in the first place?"

  "So, we're in agreement, the heist did take place?"

  "Yes." Henry winced, showing real emotion for the first time.

  "Excellent, then I don't feel like such a fool." Brandon tugged at his chin. "I've given a small upfront payment for the device and promised half a million credits for its safe delivery."

  "Why?" Jennifer nearly yelled her question in surprise.

  "Obviously, I believe the device to be the key to our fortune."

  "You were in no position to negotiate with thieves on behalf of Pearl Power—" Henry said.

  "Quite right!" Mr. Belfry stormed across the floor. The glow of the source-light rising to its early morning position cast a long shadow behind him. Actors in plays didn't make such dramatic entrances. "As CEO I alone am able to negotiate on behalf of Pearl Power."

  Mr. Belfry took his seat at the head of the table and slammed his fist an inch shy of Henry's resting hand. "What is the meaning of this? You thought you'd be able to keep this meeting from me?"

  Henry recomposed himself after the shock of his hand nearly being smashed. "It was at the request of our newest board member Mr. Everly, that this meeting take place without you. He claims to have access to our lost prototype."

  If that's how he wants to proceed.

  "Is that so?" Mr. Belfry turned his glare upon Brandon.

  Brandon raised his head to look down upon Mr. Belfry. The man was beaten but didn't know it. "To answer the previous question, I didn't negotiate on behalf of Pearl Power. I bought the prototype myself. I'm here to sell it back to Pearl Power."

  Henry pulled out a portable terminal from underneath the table. Brandon reached under his section of the table and felt where there was a portable terminal for his use.

  "We'd be willing to offer 562,500 credits for the return of the device," Henry said. "A nice profit if I say so myself for passing along information."

  "Now wait a minute." Mr. Belfry said. "I'm not agreeing to pay for my stolen property."

  "As CFO, I'm able to override your vanity in this matter," Henry said. "I call a vote. All in favor of paying Mr. Everly?"

  Henry, Brandon, Jennifer, and Jeremy all voted in the affirmative.

  "Against?" Henry asked.

  Only Mr. Belfry raised his hand. Mrs. Monty abstained from the vote, but her shares weren't needed on either side.

  "I'll accept," Brandon said. "On one condition. Upon the return of the prototype, or failing that, the thieves responsible. Mr. Belfry is stripped of his position as CEO, and a new head is promoted."

  "And I presume you mean yourself?" Jeremy asked in a condescending tone.

  The company needs a man who will place the fiduciary responsibilities first. Mr. Velden has been CFO for most of its existence. "Not at all." Brandon cleared his throat. "I have no interest in overseeing any company. I suggest we elect Mr. Velden. He seems an honorable man and clearly hasn't lost his head during these troubled times. I think he might be just the man to lead Pearl Power into the future."

  "Wait, a damn minute!" Mr. Belfry slammed his fist on the table again. "I built this company from the ground up. This is my company."

  "Correction." Henry grinned from ear to ear. "You control twenty-one percent and vote in proxy of your son for an additional three percent. Unless I've miscalculated, that's a total ownership of twenty-four percent."

  Jennifer snickered under her breath, and Mrs. Monty gasped.

  "I call a second vote for the approval of Mr. Everly's conditions regarding the return of our lost prototype. All in favor?"

  Again Henry, Brandon, Jennifer, and Jeremy voted in the affirmative. Mrs. Monty added her name to their cause—clearly smart enough to see the winds had changed in her newly acquired company.

  "Against?"

  "Damn you! Damn you all!" Mr. Belfry threw his chair to the floor and stormed away from the table.

  "None, against," Henry added as a final jab. "Motion carried."

  "I'll need our deal in writing."

  "Done," Henry said.

  "Excellent," Brandon said. "Well, ladies, gentlemen. I have business to attend to. I'll contact you as soon as the time for the trade has been set."

  CHAPTER TEN

  Texas, Eearth

  Sunday, September 4th

  Again, the unfamiliar ringtone woke Kandice, and she answered the phone on the second ring. "Hello?"

  "Kandice?" Lance asked.

  "Yes?" Kandice whispered.

  "Are you awake?"

  "Not really."

  She sat up and shook her head. The desk clock read 6:37 PM.

  "Are we still on for tonight?" Lance asked.

  "What? Oh yeah, sorry. Let me shower and wake up. I'll meet you at your place?"

  "Yeah," Lance said. "Wear something dark. We might have to get out
of the car. Don't bring your phone. Only the burner."

  "All right." She hung up to get dressed.

  * * *

  The door opened before Kandice was off her moped. Lance stood wearing a black beanie, a dark-blue long-sleeve shirt, and dark blue-jeans. Inside the living room, Slava sat on the couch, but there was no vodka.

  Unexpected.

  Slava handed Kandice a small bottle. "Do not take this unless you are in a life or death situation."

  "Okay." Kandice looked at the bottle—inside were two neon green pills.

  "What are these?" she asked.

  "You take both," Slava spoke with the demeanor of a stern parent—not unlike her own father had. "They will give you the strength and speed to run away."

  "What do you mean, run away?" Kandice looked up from the pills.

  "You will not fight under any circumstance," Lance said, like a parental figure. "That's the first rule. If something goes wrong, you run to the car and drive away. I'll stay behind and protect you."

  "I will not." Kandice crossed her arms in defiance. "There's no way I would just leave you to fight."

  "He is strong," Slava assured her. "He can shift and has the experience needed to succeed. Besides, neither of you should be fighting."

  The look he gave Lance told her there was more they weren't letting her in on. Kandice uncrossed her arms.

  I'm not a child.

  Lance handed her a small black gym bag. "Inside are a few things we'll need to track him."

  She wore the bag on her shoulder—across her chest—and Lance wore a matching one. He gave Slava a hug so quick that she would have missed it if she'd blinked.

  "Good luck." Slava's words seemed to stick in his throat as if it was the first time he had used the expression.

  The car was more spacious than expected. The seats were leather, and the AC worked well enough that she forgot it was the middle of summer. The comfort amused her since they were on their way to stalk a deadly Aether Walker. And by the time they reached the mayor's neighborhood, Kandice was cold.

  Lance found the house they thought was the mayor's. It was just after 9:00 PM. He pulled out his phone and opened the map, showing Kandice where they were and the park across the river that might work as a spying area.