Fire Mage (17 page)

She climbed over the stump and stormed off, her dress swishing back and forth.

“We’ll need to watch her,” Mara said. “She’s a witch. All those tears for her father…now it’s as if she’s forgotten about him completely.”

“Now she’s gone to Rikar…she’s talking to him.“

“Flirting with him is more like it, and it’s working. Why do girls resort to such trickery?” Mara scowled, then blinked as if remembering something.
 

“This morning, I woke up and heard Rikar mumbling to himself. It didn’t make sense. He said, ‘I obey, master, to Darkov…under the temple, Zagros commands.’ What does that mean?”

“I’ve never heard of Darkov, a city perhaps?”

“Look on the map. You can read the runes, right?”

Talis glanced back at camp, making sure they were all there. He withdrew the map from the case and stretched it out. Immediately the map lit up, symbols and markers glowing as if on fire. All over his body, his skin tingled from holding the map.
 

“There’s Lorello,” Mara pointed. “But the island is so small on the map…”

“I wish we could see more detail.” As if responding to his desire, the map changed, and now displayed a larger view of the island. New markers appeared. “This one says ‘Seraka’, along the coast.“

“And this one, over here?” To the south and east lay an immense marker, and within, a shimmering golden triangle.

“Urgar…and this one is the Temple of the Goddess Nacrea, our destination.”

“What about this?” She tapped a city to the north, shrouded in mist.
 

“Darkov…”

After three days of hard riding, Talis and the others gazed over the city of Khael. The city was nestled in the side of a cleft overlooking the mystical Melovian Sea. The ocean glimmered as if enchanted by the Goddess Nacrea. Talis had dreamed about seeing the ocean ever since his father told him bedtime stories of his youth along the fair seas of Onair. How he missed his family and his home…

High above the city of Khael, sandstone spires ran along the mountain ridgeline like a dragon's spine. The sun lingered low on the horizon, painting the countryside in shades of violet and gold. A tower rose from the highest point in Khael, next to the cliffs, part of a palace that glimmered from the last rays of sunlight. He caught sight of a shadow cast from a low cloud floating over the harbor, a shadow that sent crooked fingers spidering across the rooftops. He gripped his reins tighter and prodded his horse on.

“I don’t like how it looks,” Mara said. Other than the palace and the surrounding compound, the rest of the city was a dark hovel. The difference between the two areas was startling. Along the docks and leading up towards the hills, old dilapidated buildings and crumbling earthen homes were crammed in so close together, Talis could hardly spot any streets. The town was heavily guarded with soldiers marching in many places throughout the city, with a large contingent stationed near the palace. Outside, no guard posts or walls or patrols of any kind protected Khael. It was as if the government had no interest in keeping people out. This struck Talis odd, a stark contrast with Naru’s enormous walls and regular patrols.

They reached what appeared to be a town gate: the broken down remains of two old stone guardhouses. A man’s body hung from a guardhouse, a noose cinched around his neck. His eyes were gone and the rest of him was being torn asunder by a gang of crows working mightily on his flesh. The stench was nauseating and Talis forced himself to look away.
 

Long shadows knifed their way down the main street past the guardhouse. The air inside smelled of burned meat and moldy bread. Women scowled at the party, slamming their shutters closed as they approached. Past the town square, down narrow, winding streets, the way opened up to the docks, and beyond, the sea. It went on forever. So this was the sea father had talked about so much. Where you could spend an eternity on those wild waves, drifting from island to island, alongside whales and dolphins and sharks, hoping and praying to reach a friendly port.
 

A breeze whipped up and filled Talis’s nostrils with the smell of fish and other pungent smells he didn’t recognize. A sudden craving struck him, to eat the bounty of the sea. He glanced around, hoping to find an inn or a tavern. The docks were thronging with people in tattered clothes. Ship’s hands, beggars, thieves with shifty eyes, and dotted here and there, soldiers harassing well-dressed sea captains and traders. Ladies of obvious poor-reputation sauntered amongst the crowd, looking for victims with coin. Talis spotted an inn, “The Rusty Harpoon,” and decided it the best choice. Fewer drunks littered the steps outside.

He motioned the others towards the inn. Rikar grunted and guided his horse to the stables, Lenora trotting next to him.
 

Mara chuckled. “She’s been cuddling up close to him for days.”

“Young love.” Nikulo flashed his teeth. “Catch me if I start to swoon.”

“Our uncle will never approve,” Nuella said, and frowned. “I don’t know what she’s thinking.”

“Love’s a mystery.” Nikulo stuck his finger in his mouth, as if pretending to barf.

“She’s not in love,” Mara said. “She’s just using him.”

Nikulo laughed at that. “Let me say, for the record, Rikar has no problem being used in this situation.”

Inside the inn was packed and noisy, smelling of smoke and ale and garlic. Ladies danced with drunken sailors in uniform, older officers sat drinking, eating, scheming. Talis followed Rikar and Lenora to a rickety table in the far corner under the stairs. Dust spilled down on them as people stormed up and down.
 

“No wonder the table was available.” Mara waved away the dust.

“It’s the only free table…stop complaining,” Rikar said, and motioned to a barmaid.

“Always liked a layer of dust with pork roast.” Nikulo brushed off the table with his hat.

“Do you have coin?” The barmaid frowned at them suspiciously.

Rikar flourished a silver coin. “Food and ale…and a room for the night.”

“A room?” Nuella said. “Aren’t we to have a room of our own?”

“Aren’t you bound for Uncle’s house?” Lenora spat, shifting her chair closer to Rikar’s.

“And you aren’t?”

Lenora shook her head, then glanced at Rikar. “I’ll not set foot in that drunk’s house.”

“But the plan was to live with Uncle and—”

“Plans change, sister. It’s hard for me to leave you, but I imagine you’ll manage somehow.”

The barmaid cast a disapproving glance at them, and swiped the coin from Rikar’s hand, storming off.

“You’ve scared her.” Rikar grinned. “You sisters shouldn’t fight. We’ll find your uncle tomorrow, and reunite you
both
with your family.”

“But you said!”

Rikar put up his hand as if to silence Lenora. “Eat first, your hunger is affecting your mood.”

“This seems a good place to ask…for ship’s passage to Lorello.” Nikulo flicked his eyes towards the seamen at the other tables.

“The crooked lot of them…the whole town included.”

“Be vague then,” Talis said. “Ask where they trade, home ports.“

Mara sighed. “That’s not how it’s done. Ask what trade garners the most coin. Pretend like you’re interested in signing up as a ship hand.”

The barmaid slapped down a large plate with a haunch of pork, roasted potatoes oozing in oil, and a whole cod. “Now there’s a feast.” Nikulo rubbed his hands together and sampled a potato.

“And ale?”

“Save your mouth for the food,” the barmaid said. “Ale’s coming soon enough. And you owe another silver for the room. That foreign coin of yours needs more weight.”

Nikulo handed her another coin, and gave Rikar a look as if trying to pacify him. “This is not Naru…prices are different.“

“More like robbery once they saw the foreign mint.”

“The
inland
mint…most people in this room are sailors…except us. Our coin gives us away.” Talis noticed the barmaid whispering to the innkeeper.

“We’ll see about changing coins in the morning.” Nikulo’s eyes brightened as the barmaid sauntered up, carrying a tray with six mugs of ale.
 

“Father complains from the grave,” Lenora said, and raised the mug to her lips.

“Your father walks the Grim March in the Underworld.” Rikar scowled at his hands. “Begging mercy from Zagros.”

Lenora paled, eyes widening. Instead of protesting, she bit her lip and drank half her ale.

“You cruel bastard…” Mara said. “Have you no feelings at all?”

Rikar shook his head slowly. “Not in many years…I’ve no need for them. You’ve enough emotions for the two of us. Wear them with pride.” He gulped down his ale in one go.

Talis wanted to kill him. He glared at Rikar, and gripped his sword.

“What do you want, oh you of royal blood? Do you want to murder me? You’re all just dripping with tender
feelings
. Plump morsels for the Master. Do you all realize how insignificant you are?”

Nikulo coughed. “Indeed we are…next to an ego such as yours… That’s right, I forgot to bow down and worship your lordship’s arse.”

“Go ahead, laugh until your fat face turns red. We’ll see how well your wit serves you on that island.”

“Promises and threats, my favorite bedtime stories. Is there something you know that we don’t?”

“Volumes, my old friend, volumes.”

“Who pray tell invited you on this quest? Am I missing something here? All this talk of Zagros, and mystery on the island. We arrive at Khael—a ship’s journey away—and
my old friend
shows his true colors?”

Lenora stared at Talis, as if begging him to say something. Talis cleared his throat. “Rikar here is in league with a dark sorcerer—”

“Say another word and I’ll slice your head off.” Rikar smiled madly. “I told you he will explain himself when he sees fit. Until then keep those words to yourself.”
 

“Are we to understand that this
master
of yours will explain everything once you lead us to the city of Darkov?” Mara scoffed.

“Who told you about Darkov?” Rikar’s face paled.

“You did, you stupid fool.”

Rikar woke early to take Lenora and Nuella to their uncle, ignoring Lenora’s final protests. Talis said goodbye to them, noticing the look of sadness in Lenora’s eyes. He didn’t buy it for a moment. She wanted to stay with them and continue on to Lorello, but everyone had agreed they had no interest in having her along.

Talis and Mara were to scour the docks in search of a ship bound for Lorello, and Nikulo mumbled something about finding rare ingredients. They split up. The air was cold and clammy from a dense mist and the ships in the harbor bobbed listlessly, their sails disappearing into the fog.
 

“Trade mostly in seal furs from the Isle of Tarasen,” an old salty sailor barked in response to Talis’s question.
 

They moved on, trying a broken-down tavern so close to the sea, Talis was sure it would soon fall in.

“Salt…salt from the salt flats of Douraman…we stay close to the coast. Yonder sea is vicious out in the open.” The barrel-chested hairy sailor puffed on a pipe, blowing rings of smoke thoughtfully. “Talk to Captain Calfour. He might know a thing or two about adventure on the high seas. Oldest and craziest dog amongst us.”

They tried the Captain and got a sour stare and plenty of grunts. He didn’t want their ale and wasn’t interested in speaking a word. As they were leaving the tavern, a man tapped Talis in the shoulder, and motioned them outside, down a dark alley.
 

“So you’re looking to join up on the Captain’s ship?” The man wore a white cap, and had two front missing teeth. “I’m his first mate, anything you want to say to the Captain has to go through me.”

“And where does your ship sail?” Mara said.

“Quite a lip on this one.” The first mate frowned at Mara. “We sail where there’s money in the wind.”

“Such as?” Talis said.

“Well if you must know, south to Tsenga, north to Blighter’s Bay, and if the need arises, east, far out to sea, to Seraka.”