“I’ve had good teachers,” he admitted with a grin. “And an astute mother.”
Jazai stood and stretched nonchalantly. “Devol, we need to talk about the trials while we have a breather,” he stated and moved down the alley. “Come with me.”
He pushed quickly to his feet and looked at his friend in confusion. “Huh? All right.” He caught up to the diviner and they stepped into the fog-infested town on the other side of the alley. “What are you thinking about?”
“Him,” his friend said in a low tone and peered through the alley as if to make sure no one was watching. “There’s something off about him.”
“Merri? He seems nice enough,” Devol replied carefully but looked in the same direction as his friend did. “Although it does seem odd to simply hang around here, especially if he knows what’s happening with the trials.”
“That’s my point. I think he might have given himself away.” Jazai frowned and looked warily around them. “When he mentioned that magi he healed who had been attacked, it wasn’t something I considered but it is so obvious.”
“That we could be attacked before the trials?” he asked and folded his arms. “My father mentioned that there have been more muggings than usual in Monleans and the areas around there. He said people claimed that black signets were stolen.”
The diviner nodded. “It’s not a bad strategy to eliminate your competition before they even arrive and everyone is on their guard.”
“But what makes you think Merri is taking part? I didn’t see a signet on him.”
Jazai took his signet out and brushed it with his thumb. “You only need a signet to enter. He could have taken someone else’s and simply have hidden it. It would be easy enough to use his ruse as a traveling healer to catch other magi who come through here.”
Devol frowned as he considered this. “I guess so, but he seems so nice. And if what he says is true about his healing ability, it’s remarkable.”
“That’s also suspicious,” the other boy contested as he slid his signet into his pocket. “I won’t lie that there are scholars and the like who are somehow both very selective about what is considered of ‘great interest’ and simultaneously dismissive of anything that could shake the foundations of their standing. Gatekeeping is a bitch like that.” He glanced furtively down the alley. “But if even half of what he is saying is true, numerous places would take him in and even more would at least give him a chance to prove it. If he hasn’t been accepted by any academy or any scholar guilds, there must be another component to it.”
“So you think he’s merely a yarn-spinner?” The swordsman scratched the back of his head. “I guess that sounds likely but he seems so nice.”
“Hopefully, that’s all he is,” Jazai replied and turned to him again. “I’ve felt something in the air—traces of mana—but now that I have a feel for his, I know it can’t be him I’m tapping into.”
“We are outside the caves,” Devol pointed out. “More magi could be coming through on their way to the trials.”
“Maybe,” his friend agreed with a nod and squinted into the fog. “But I doubt that any magi who couldn’t hide their mana efficiently would be able to make it far enough to be considered for the trials or take the signet of another magi who had. Something is off and I plan to take a look around.”
He studied the diviner for a moment and realized that he might be too lax given the situation they were in. Any magi could be considered an enemy from this point on, even one who seemed as welcoming as Merri. “Do you need me to go with you?”
Jazai shook his head. “Keep an eye on him and be alert while I hunt around a little. We have the a-stones to stay in contact and I’ll let you know if there’s a problem.”
Devol nodded and tapped the pouch that held his stone. “All right but be back soon.”
The other boy held his thumb and middle finger up. “That’s the plan.” With a snap, he blinked away.
The swordsman walked through the alley to where Asla and Merri chatted easily, apparently about wildkin biology. “Welcome back,” the man said and leaned forward to look around him. “Where’s your scholarly friend?”
“He wanted to stretch his legs. His nerves were getting to him as he’s anxious about the trials,” he lied and sat beside Asla. He looked furtively at her to try to see any signs that she was as suspicious as Jazai. She looked calm for the most part but he realized she was crouched rather than seated, ready to move at a moment’s notice if need be.
“Is that so? He hides it well.” Merri took another mouthful of stew and nodded approvingly. “It’s almost ready and there’s more than enough to go around. How much would you like?”
Devol settled his gaze on the stew and his inner caution took hold. “I think something about this fog is messing with me,” he replied and held a hand out. “I’m not that hungry.”
“Neither am I,” Asla agreed with a suspicious glance at the pot.
The man frowned but shrugged. “Is that so? It’s a pity but at least I’ll have leftovers.”
Jazai was now several blocks away but he had not forgotten the location of the camp. He still felt the strange magic in the air but it seemed that no matter which direction he moved in, it didn’t grow stronger or weaker and he couldn’t decide if it was below or above him.
As he prepared to blink down another street, he heard the moaning again and this time, it didn’t echo through the air. It was almost too quiet to hear but it came from his left. He looked toward a large building that appeared to be a blacksmith or perhaps a repair shop for the mining equipment at one time. Cautiously, he approached it and listened intently for another noise, and as he began to ascend the stairs to the front door, he heard it again very clearly from within the structure.
He grasped the handle and turned it as quietly as he could while he prepared his enchanted rings. The door opened into an empty lobby. He moved deeper in and followed the halls and the sounds of the moaning that almost certainly indicated someone in pain. It sounded like they were trying to form words but they couldn’t muster the energy to do so and a moment later, the noise ceased entirely.
With a frown, he continued to sneak through the hall but still heard nothing to guide his progress, although he noticed claw marks gouged into doors and along a few of the walls. These weren’t from the wood rotting away. They looked like they were scratched in although he couldn’t tell if it was recently or well in the past.
Finally, he reached a pair of double doors. They each had a window in the middle that was partially broken, and one stood ajar. He stepped inside and noticed the remnants of titling above. The faded lettering on it indicated that this was the main work floor of some kind of assembly plant.
A few lanterns were lit and cast a dim light, the only signs thus far of activity or that someone was there. His gaze drifted over a couple of small belt lines still within, worn and rusted, and he almost looked past them but noticed something hanging off one of them. From where he stood, it appeared to be an arm and it looked human.
“Who’s there?” Jazai demanded, extended a hand, and summoned a low-level light. His jaw dropped when he confirmed that it was indeed an arm—decayed, gray-skinned, and full of dark spots—that was not attached to anyone. He moved to retrieve his a-stone when he heard the wailing again.
Startled, he spun toward a cabinet he hadn’t noticed before. Chains had been wound around the handles but it was slightly open and the voice came from within. The diviner dismissed the light and pointed to the chains. “Liquify.” They turned to mush and fell off the doors. Almost as soon as they did, both doors burst open and two bodies fell out but only one moved.
The man’s skin was ragged and dark spots were visible on his face and hands. He looked like he hadn’t eaten in months but flailed at the boy and tried to speak, while saliva dripped out of his mouth. “Geee… Heeelll… Ruuuun!”
Jazai held his ringed hand out in shock and his eyes widened when he saw, peeking from beneath the ring
on his index finger, a dark spot that seemed to grow.
Chapter Sixteen
Asla sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose in distaste.
“Is something wrong?” Devol asked and looked around to see if he could identify the source of her discomfort because he certainly couldn’t smell it.
“A foul smell is coming from deeper in the town,” she said and glanced at her friend. “Where’s Jazai? I would think he would be back by now.”
He shrugged and dug in his pouch for his a-stone. “I’m not entirely sure but he did say he wouldn’t be long.”
“Do you think your friend is in trouble?” Merri asked as he raised a spoonful of stew to his lips. “It could it be that he ran into another magi while looking around the town.”
The a-stone glowed as it activated. He called to his friend telepathically but heard nothing in response. Although he knew it wasn’t necessary, he sent the tiniest amount of mana into it in the hope that this might help to establish a connection and tried again. “That’s strange,” he remarked and turned to the wildkin. “These worked before we left the castle.”
Asla retrieved her stone and repeated what he had done. “I get no response either, so I doubt the stones aren’t working. There must be something blocking them.” She frowned, stood hastily, and put the stone away. “I’ll go to look for him.”
He pushed to his feet, ready to follow. “Wait, Asla. I’ll go with—”
“It’s all right,” she said, turned, and held a hand out to stop him. “If there is someone here who means to do us harm, you should remain behind to watch Mister Giovannini.” She cast a knowing glance at him, which he accepted with a nod. “If anything goes wrong, I’ll find a way to let you know. I’ll be back soon.” With that, she hurried away and disappeared into the fog.
Devol sighed and sat again. “Jazai said the same thing,” he muttered and tapped his fingers nervously against his knee.
“I hope I’m not a bother,” Merri said and placed his bowl down. “It’s kind of you to remain behind to look after me.”
The boy looked up and grinned halfheartedly. “It’s no trouble and it’s probably the smart thing to do. If someone out there is picking us off for whatever reason, it’s better to not all be in one place and let them surprise us.”
“That is certainly true.” The healer glanced at the still-warm pot. “Are you certain I can’t interest you in any stew? There’s a great deal left and I’m sure this sudden development makes you anxious. You should have something in you to be at your best. Even novice healers can give that advice.”
He shook his head. “Thank you, but I’m good,”
“How about an examination? I can look you over and make sure nothing is wrong. Perhaps you were tricked earlier or have contracted something while walking around the town.”
Devol looked speculatively at the man, who had suddenly become quite pushy. True, he could simply be trying to be kind given the circumstances, but both his teammates seemed suspicious of him. While he wasn’t as concerned as the two of them, perhaps he could use the opportunity to make some discoveries himself.
“No, thank you,” he responded politely, straightened, and looked the healer in the eyes. “Merri, tell me. The magi who brought you here—what happened to her?”
“Hmm?” Merri muttered and scratched his chin. “Well, she went into the caves. That’s where the trials are being held, correct?”
“That’s right.” He nodded and took care to hide his growing concern. “And you’ve been here since then? About a week or so?”
“More or less,” the healer said with a nod, picked his bowl up again, and took another mouthful. “I have no desire to attempt the challenges myself but I can help those who do.”
“Still, as noble as that sentiment is, it is also a dangerous idea. You should know that,” Devol replied. “If one of them were hostile, how would you be able to deal with them?”
Merri chuckled and waved his spoon at the swordsman. “I appreciate your concern, young lad, but I am not so feeble as to fall to an overly aggressive wandering magi. If I have a run-in with a hostile traveler, I can take care of myself.”
“How’s that?” he questioned. “You told us earlier that you spent so much of your time focused on your particular style of magic that any other school was well beyond you.”
The man stiffened and looked at him, momentarily surprised, but eased quickly into a relaxed slouch. “Oh, well, you are right there, but I’ve had to learn a few tricks as I travel all over the realm for my occupation and practice. As a result, I do have a few abilities up my sleeve.”
“I see,” Devol muttered. “I have a couple of other questions, Merri.”
“Certainly.” The healer dug his spoon into the stew, preparing for another scoop. “What would you like to know?”
“Why have you lied to us so far?” he asked, his voice stern as he accused the jolly healer.
Merri paused for a second before he placed the spoon into his mouth and looked at him. “What are you talking about?”
“The magi you said you helped—you referred to them as a ‘he,’” the boy recalled and his eyes narrowed. “And you said he went back to his village and didn’t continue into the caves. For a gifted healer such as yourself, I don’t think your memory is so inefficient as to forget something you said a half-hour earlier. My guess is you relied on me to remember the details of your lies for you.”
The man frowned slightly but not in anger or shock, more in disappointment or contemplation. He sighed and emptied the next uneaten spoonful of stew into the pot before he looked to the side as if trying to see something through the fog and the buildings.
“He’s probably at least begun dealing with the other two,” he murmured.
The other two? The young swordsman tensed. Is he talking about Asla and Jazai?
“What’s going on, Merri?” he demanded and pushed to his feet. “Who’s he?”
“A friend of mine,” the man answered and scratched the back of his head. “I did think of continuing the lie for a while longer. I could probably have made something up but I’m not that gifted when it comes to deceit.” He laughed before he stood as well. “You seemed so kind, I didn’t think you would try to catch me out like that.”
Devol reached back for his majestic. “Did anything you say have even a grain of truth in it?”
“Oh, most was completely true, I assure you,” he promised. “As I said, I’m not a gifted liar. You caught most of the outright lies and almost everything else was exaggeration or half-truth. I am indeed a healer and a traveling one at that, but I have been employed in a couple of academies.”
For a moment, the boy could see a spark of anger in his eyes. “Ones that were more than eager to help in my research when it benefitted them until my ideas became too much of a liability, despite the promise they showed. At that point, they decided it was better to be rid of me.” He looked at the boy and the hint of anger turned to sympathy. “I suppose I know what they were thinking, given that I’m thinking it’s better to be rid of you now.”
Devol drew Achroma and held it in front of him. “Stand down, Merri!”
The healer sighed as he drew out the small blade he had used to cut the vegetables as well as a vial containing a clear liquid that was hidden up his sleeve. “This would have been much more convenient if you had simply had some stew.”
As Asla leapt across the buildings, following the rancid odor, she discerned another. This one was more familiar and earthy, a warm scent that contained a tinge of ink and dusty scrolls—Jazai’s scent.
She landed on a rusted weathervane that snapped under her weight and forced her to flip and land on the edge of the roof. When she’d regained her balance, she sniffed the air. Jazai was close and her gaze settled on a large building with an open door. Quickly, she bounded off the roof and raced up the stairs.
The wildkin pushed through the open doors and into an empty lobby, and the smell struck her like a punch from angr
y daemoni. This was the smell of death—one that left the body to waste away long before the light in the eyes departed. Two sets of halls stretched before her and she prepared to move down one when she noticed a large tome on a table between them. It wouldn’t usually have caught her attention given the situation, but this one was familiar. She knew immediately that it was Jazai’s majestic.
Her heart began to race as she wondered what had happened to him. He wouldn’t simply leave it alone like this. The thought made her fearful that he perhaps wasn’t conscious. She approached the book and in response, it opened suddenly of its own accord and words began to write on the blank page. They were addressed to her.
Asla, I can sense you. Stay where you are for now.
She hesitated. Her friend was still alive as he was the only one who could use the book in such a fashion. One option was that he was writing under duress but she immediately discarded that. Knowing how brash and willful he was, she was sure he wouldn’t do anything demanded of him by another no matter what they threatened him with.
Before she could consider any other options, the writing continued and her heart went from beating rapidly to sinking at the words that followed.
There is an enemy here, Asla, and we need to finish him quickly. They tricked us from the start. We have been dying from the moment we stepped foot in this town.
Chapter Seventeen
Merri doused his knife with the clear liquid, most likely some kind of poison. Devol struck immediately while he was distracted. He swung his blade at the liar but his target blinked and vanished. Instinctively, he spun to where the man now stood behind him and seemed surprised by his swift reaction.
The swordsman slashed at him but the portly man was much faster than one would believe when looking at him. He backed away from the strike although the tip of the long blade was able to cut through his shirt and slightly into his chest. Blood welled but the wound sealed almost immediately. It seemed he had indeed told the truth about his healing ability.
The Oblivion Trials (The Astral Wanderer Book 3) Page 9