Malediction (Scars of the Sundering Book 1) (13 page)

BOOK: Malediction (Scars of the Sundering Book 1)
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As they ate,
Pancras considered what they would do. Money wasn't an issue with the boon he
received from Sarvesh before leaving Drak-Anor. "We need a plan. We're
going to be here until the snows thaw. I think it would be unwise for us to do
nothing but sit around our inn or wander the streets aimlessly."

Edric nodded
in agreement. "Aye, maybe I can find a gambling house or something."

"That
doesn't sound like a very good idea. You might need that coin for the trip to
Muncifer." Pancras chomped down on a steaming tuber. "Unless you plan
to stay here."

"I
could. I might." Edric looked around and shrugged. "No offense to you
three, but there's no reason for me to keep dogging your heels."

"I
think we should spend a few days looking around town, seeing what's here."
Kale paused to finish his mug of ale. He swayed a bit as he set his mug down.
Pancras felt a bit lightheaded and fuzzy; the ale was stronger than the brew
served in Drak-Anor. "Maybe an opportunity will present itself."

Delilah
waved down Janek and ordered another round of ale. "We should definitely
try to find a nicer inn. The bed is okay, but Scarface has the personality of a
rock. Not a nice rock, the nasty kind you overturn and find all sorts of gross,
crawly things under."

Pancras
managed to turn his laugh into a chuckle. He didn't want to judge Scar too
harshly. He didn't know what perils the minotaur had seen.

"Maybe
we should try to find that other inn tomorrow, the one the guard
mentioned," Kale stifled a belch, a belch which seemed to burn in his
throat. He coughed to clear his throat. "What was it called? The Grand
Duchy?"

"Grand
Duchess." Pancras nodded. "It's a good idea. I don't hold out hope
for that one, though. With a name like that, it must be very expensive."

"I
think we should split up." Delilah looked around the table. "We can
cover more ground that way. We can meet up here for dinner again and share what
we've learned."

Edric pushed
himself away from the table. "I'm going to go learn right now. See you
tomorrow. I'll be here at sundown." He tossed a talon on the table and
left the tavern.

"Do you
think he'll really come back?" Kale watched Edric go.

Delilah
shook her head. "He'll probably find a bunch of dwarves in town and stay
with them. He doesn't fit in with us." She looked around the room.
"And we don't fit in anywhere."

Pancras
wasn't entirely sure he agreed with that sentiment. Just because they hadn't
seen many draks and minotaurs didn't mean belong. They hadn't seen enough of
Almeria to know whether or not they would be outcasts the entire winter.

"I
think tomorrow we should stick together. None of us know this city well enough
to not become lost. It would be very easy to wander into a dangerous area.
We'll need each other's strengths." Pancras pushed away his now-empty
plate.

"Maybe
the grump can give us some pointers." Kale reached over to Edric's
abandoned plate and pulled it toward him. The dwarf ate all the meat, but
barely touched his vegetables. Kale ate them with gusto.

"It's
worth a shot, I suppose." Pancras didn't hold out hope of obtaining useful
information from Scar. He merely hoped they could make it through the winter
without any unfortunate encounters like the one at the inn several weeks
earlier. Pancras decided to start by going straight to bed and hoped the night
would pass without incident.

 

Chapter 7

 

As Pancras
slept, strange images entered his mind. He knew he was dreaming but was
powerless to do anything but watch the scenes unfold. Darkness seeped into the
room, and the shadows seemed to dance, although there wasn't any music. Kale
stood in the doorway, mouthing words Pancras could not hear.

The darkness
crept toward Kale. The drak, oblivious to the danger, advanced into the shadow
and emerged a skeleton, crumbling as Pancras reached for him, surprised that
his own hand was a shadowy talon.

Delilah
entered the room next. She saw the crumbling form of her brother and screamed
as her eyes melted from her face and ran down her cheeks. The scales flaked off
her body, leaving raw, wet muscle behind, before it, too, melted into a puddle
in Pancras's room.

He awoke
with a start. The soft glow of dawn poured through the window, drawing his eyes
to the dust on top of the chest of drawers. Gasping for breath, Pancras threw
open the sash without bothering to put on his robes. The cold air hit him like
a fist to his chest but helped clear his head. He stepped over to the basin and
pitcher atop the chest of drawers.
Naturally, it's empty. I don't know what
I expected.

Yawning,
Pancras rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He grabbed his malachite robes. For a
moment, he thought he saw movement in the shadow he cast on the floor, but
shook his head to clear his sleep-addled mind of lingering dream images.

Pancras
didn't think Scar would have anything to offer to break their fast in the
morning, and when he wandered downstairs, he saw his suspicions were correct.
Scar was not in the kitchen, nor had he left out any bread. Snores from the
common room indicated they were no longer the sole tenants of The Sleeping
Viper. Pancras peeked inside the doorway and saw Scar, leaning back in a chair,
snoring with his mouth agape and oozing drool, as well as two humans slumped
over the tables, asleep. Rather than disturb the innkeeper and risk his ire,
Pancras returned upstairs and roused Kale and Delilah.

By the time
they left the inn, Scar had not yet risen, and although the sun was still low
in the sky, the blacksmiths were already hard at work. Their cacophonous
clanging was enough to cause his head to throb, and Pancras was eager to search
for other lodging in a quieter part of the city.

"Do you
think our stuff will be okay?" Delilah looked back at The Sleeping Viper.
Already, the streets teemed with people going about their daily routine.

"Should
be, if you locked the door to your room." Pancras patted his pocket to
ensure the key was still in it. They followed the street until they reached a
large thoroughfare. Pancras made a few inquiries of a nearby guard, and soon
they were headed back toward the Commerce District.

Over the din
of the crowd, a clarion called folk to worship. From the tight streets of the
Foundry District, Pancras couldn't see which temple summoned its devoted. Most
people around them seemed to ignore its call. The rumble of distant thunder
promised to put a damper on the morning, so Pancras urged Kale and Delilah to
move faster, although they did not know where they were headed, exactly.

Despite the
crowds, Pancras was pleased to be back in civilization. The wilderness was no
place for a minotaur like him. He always felt more comfortable around buildings
and shops and vendors hawking their wares than he did sleeping under the open
sky and fending off swarms of midges.

I hope there
are shops with reasonably-priced clothes in my size.
He glanced
down at the hems of his robes. They were stiff with soaked-in mud and ragged
from the long trip. He tried to limit what he wore during their travels so at
least one set of robes remained in decent condition, and now that the prospect
of obtaining horses or a cart to take them to Muncifer come spring seemed
likely, he figured a few extra pounds of clothing would not unduly burden him.

Streets in
the Commerce District all ran toward the city market. The market itself was a
large building-free area with its own gate. Farmers from the surrounding
farmlands brought their wares, produce, and livestock to sell. The market was
open every day, and therefore, foot traffic was always heavy past nearby shops.
Merchants who owned shops in the city preferred locations closer to the actual
market, and many merchant families maintained ownership of their properties
from generation to generation.

Towering,
gilded gates marked the entrance to the city market. Within the vertical
supports were statues of Dolios and Anetha, the god and goddess of commerce and
civilization, respectively. Pancras led the two draks into the market. Vendors
selling everything from weapons and armor to fine clothing, baked goods,
cheeses, fresh vegetables, livestock, and more filled the market.

Pancras
reached into his pouch and handed Kale and Delilah a handful of coins.
"Let's do some shopping while we're here. We'll meet at that pie vendor
over yonder when we're finished."

* * *

 

Kale looked
around in wonder as he put the money Pancras gave him in his pouch. "Have
you ever seen anything like this, Deli?"

A human's
pack smacked Delilah across the snout. She rubbed it as she glared daggers at
the oblivious man. "No. We're the smallest things here, Kale. We'd better
move it before we get squashed!"

Dodging a
different human, who rushed past carrying a basket of small, red fruit, Kale
splashed in a puddle. He hoped it was water. Delilah grabbed his hand and
pulled him through the crowd. They paused in a covered stall filled with jars
and urns.

The shaggy,
bearded man tending the stall held out an earthenware jar toward them, tilting
the lid. "Black lotus? Stygian, the best!"

Delilah held
up her hand and shook her hand. "Perhaps later. Look over there,
Kale!" She pointed to a stall selling cloaks and robes.

They dashed
across the street and into the cloak seller's stall. Kale looked around at the
mountains of cloth arranged by color and type of fabric. The merchant dozed on
a stool nearby and awoke with a start when Delilah tapped her leg with her
staff. She held up the fraying hem of her cloak. "Got anything in our
size? Ours are getting a little threadbare."

Rubbing the
sleep out of her eyes, the woman nodded. "I have some cut for
children." Her eyes narrowed. "You can pay, yes?"

Kale jingled
his coin purse. "Of course we can!"

Satisfied,
the woman described how her cloaks were the finest in the city. Her performance
was similar to that of all the merchants around her. Kale found a hooded,
dark-brown wool cloak that suited him and watched passersby as Delilah spent
what seemed like hours trying on various fabrics and colors until she ended up
with a fur-trimmed forest-green mantle. Supposedly, it was made especially for
a nobleman's daughter who tragically died in a runaway cart accident. In his
mind Kale questioned the veracity of her story, but Delilah nodded
sympathetically as the merchant told the tale.

"Are
you ready to go? We need to meet up with Pancras, and I'm getting hungry
again."

Delilah
twirled around. "This is fantastic. Now I'll be warm all winter!"

By the time
they found their way back to the pie vendor, they found Pancras waiting for
them. He chatted with the baker as he pulled a steaming, golden brown pie out
of the small, brick oven set up in front of his stall. Pancras dropped a silver
talon on the counter.

"Svarog
here says these are the best meat pies in the city."

"That's
right." The baker broke the talon in half and returned half to Pancras.
"Only the finest chickens and lambs go in my pies."

Kale
couldn't deny it smelled delicious. The aroma of spiced chicken with fresh
herbs wafted past his nose. "Everyone here says their wares are the finest
in the city."

Svarog
laughed. "That's right. Everyone is the best! All our wares are better
than everyone else’s, but my pies are better than that pig Yuri's!" He
made an obscene gesture at a tavern across the street.

"Well,
it's a good thing we purchased yours, then." Pancras grabbed the pie with
the edge of his cloak and led Kale and Delilah over to a nearby stoop. "I
see you two purchased new cloaks and robes. Anything else?"

"We
didn't have time. It took Deli all that time just to find the right robe. She
tried on everything that woman had. Twice!"

Delilah
stuck her tongue out at Kale. "Some of us are more discerning than others.
I wasn't going to be satisfied with the first ratty cloak I came across."

"It's
not ratty!"

His sister
did not indulge her vanity very often, and Kale liked her new cloak, so he let
the matter drop. When they finished eating, the three set off together. They
still needed to find a better inn. That task proved challenging. The inns that
catered to minotaurs were unwilling to accommodate draks. The inns that
accommodated draks did not have beds large enough for minotaurs. A few inns
demanded they leave as soon as they entered their doors, and they still had not
found The Grand Duchess or The Manticore & Dragon Inn.

Kale wasn't
sure he wanted to go look for the latter two, since it would mean sleeping in
separate inns. He agreed with Pancras that they should stick together for
safety.

As the
afternoon waned, they decided to return to The Assassin's Dagger, eat, and plan
for tomorrow.

"Hopefully,
Edric will have some good news for us." Kale gathered up his new cloak as
he tiptoed through a puddle.

"If he
even shows up." Delilah pulled Kale to a stop in front of their inn.
"Go on ahead, Pancras. I want to check on our stuff."

The minotaur
nodded and proceeded into the tavern.

"I just
have a funny feeling, Kale. Like we've been robbed." Delilah entered the
inn. They heard Scar arguing with another customer about lumpy beds in the
common room. Scar's roar was followed by a heavy thump. Kale hurried upstairs
after his sister.

I hope she's
wrong
.

 

* * *

 

Delilah
approached the door with trepidation. She pulled the key out of her pouch and
unlocked it. To her surprise, her pack was where she left it on the bed. She
ran over and jumped up on the bed. The pack bounced, nearing the edge of the
mattress. Delilah lunged to grab it before it fell. She felt a twitch in her
back as the book-laden pack lurched to a stop.

The new pain
in her back was proof enough of the pack's contents. She groaned and hauled it
back on the bed. She heard Kale approaching and looked up as her brother
entered their room.

"Are
you coming? Pancras is waiting for us next door." He leaned against the
door, lifting a foot to pick at his heel. Delilah sympathized. Walking on the
cobbles all day made her feet hurt, too, and she was pretty sure there were
pebbles embedded between some of her scales.

"I just
wanted to check on my books. It doesn't look like anyone disturbed our
stuff." She moved the pack to the center of the bed and hopped off onto
the floor. She grabbed her staff and looked at it.
It's just dinner.
She
tossed it on the bed.

"Who
would? They'd have to contend with Scar. He'd probably gore them and grind
their bones to bake into bread." As he said it, Kale's face fell and he
turned around. He breathed an audible sigh of relief when he saw no one was
behind him.

Delilah
looked out into the hallway. "Expecting Scar to be there?"

"Yeah,
I'm a little jumpy all of a sudden. My scales are crawling, like someone is
watching me." Kale shivered and rubbed his arms. "Let's go eat. I'm
hungry."

"Good
idea." Delilah pulled the door shut and locked it. Together they went next
door to The Assassin's Dagger. Pancras was already seated at the same table
they used the night before. Tankards of ale awaited Kale and Delilah. Several
other tables were occupied by patrons, but the raucous crowd had yet to arrive.

"I got
us a pork roast to share." Pancras raised his mug to the draks. "It
should be out soon."

Kale clinked
his tankard against Delilah's. "I have to admit, the fare is better than
what we get at home."

"Maybe
you should learn how to cook." Delilah grinned at her brother. "I'm
sure Suri would give you job."

"I like
what I do." Kale worked on keeping the siege engine defenses working
properly. Delilah helped with that, too, but now that fighting with the
neighboring dwarves was no longer a regular occurrence, they didn't have to
perform as much upkeep.

"Where's
Edric?" Delilah looked around the tavern, but didn't see their dwarven
companion.

"He
hasn't shown up yet." Pancras glanced at the window. Waning light foretold
dusk's approach.

Lenka,
Janek's rotund wife, weaved her way through customers milling around the bar
and brought their roast. Her stringy hair was tied back under a kerchief to
keep it out of the food she served, and her weathered skin told of a life of
hard work. "Here you go, dearies. One leg roast with all the
trimmings."

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