Stealing Sorcery (29 page)

Her right hand grasped the wooden shaft of the banner before The Wandering War reacted, deliberately placing her hand above his. Next, she put her left hand on his chest.

Push.

The force of the blast would have been sufficient to send any ordinary person flying – but he didn’t budge in the slightest, and gave no indication of having used any sorcery to block the strike.

The shaft of the banner, however, was far less resilient. It snapped apart – with Velas’ hand on the section carrying the banner itself.

He reached for the banner, but Velas danced backward, grinning. “Too slow, wanderer.”

Surge.
She blasted herself backward across the ground, sliding a dozen yards away, spinning around as the force dissipated. The strain on her muscles was beginning to slow her movements, but nevertheless she began to sprint around the lake. Glancing over her shoulder, she expected to see The Wandering War right behind her – but he was still standing where he had been, holding the broken remains of the bottom of the banner in his hand.

Guess he’s not much of a runner – or he pushed himself too much by redirecting my spells.

Nevertheless, she ran as fast as she could. Fortunately, she didn’t have to circle the entire lake – there were bridges crossing it on both sides, and she barreled past another pair of candidates as she crossed back to the side where she had started. One of them made a weak grab for the flag as she passed, but she easily avoided it.

As she arrived on the other side of the shore, Velas slowed, inspecting the flag. It still looked dry – apparently The Wandering War’s effort to block her earlier attack had succeeded just in the way she had hoped.

She slowed to an exhausted jog, flares of pain rippling through her legs as she arrived at the starting point and handed her flag to Lieutenant Morris.

“Well.” He frowned, taking the broken shaft, “I suppose it’s not wet.”

Velas let out a choking laugh. “Good enough, I hope?”

“Good enough,” he agreed. “Quite a show you made back there, too.”

“Thanks. Mind if I sit down for a minute?”

The world spun briefly before Velas found herself lying on the ground.

***

An hour later, Velas was still resting her head on Landen’s lap. He was applying another cold compress to her forehead.

Her newly-acquired sigil of Eratar was pinned to her shirt. Fortunately, the dawnfire’s heat had been sufficient to swiftly dry her off.

“You really should get out of here,” she told him for what felt like the hundredth time. He still only had a single pin – the one he had started with. And waiting with her had just cost him his chance at earning a pin from Colonel Wyndam – his appointment was minutes away and he had no chance to get there in time.

“When you’re back on your feet, sure.”

Velas frowned. “Could be a while. I’m not good at feet right now.”

“You really pushed yourself too much back there.” He shook his head, turning the cloth over and wiping her forehead with the opposite side. “Would have been easier for you to just grab the other banner. No one else got there for minutes. The Wandering War ended up taking it, of course, after you left him in the dust – but you could have easily grabbed it and just walked away rather than skirmishing with him.”

“Well, yeah, but that wouldn’t have been fun, Landen. Gods.”

Landen rubbed his forehead with his free hand. “Right. Fun. Of course.”

“Look, if you’re feeling too burdened by my mistakes, you can get going at any time.”

“Nah. I’m exactly where I need to be.”

“Whatever you say.”

The other candidates had left the area long before. Lieutenant Morris had stayed a few moments to make sure that she was intact, but when she explained that it was just overuse of motion sorcery, he had shrugged and gone on his way as well.

The Wandering War had stared at her a long time as he departed. She had grinned cheerfully right back at him.

“Well, if you think you’re up for it, we’ve still got a chance to make it to Sterling’s little challenge. Maybe we’ll win you a pin there.”

Landen nodded silently.

It was another half hour before Velas managed to regain enough feeling in her legs for Landen to drag her to her feet. Once she was standing, the pain intensified, but she grit her teeth and began her stretches. It was, in her experience, the best way to get her body working again.

Several minutes later, the pair limped further away from the paladin compound – and toward the Perfect Stranger, where Sterling had announced his competition would be taking place.

They found Sterling sitting with a pair of other candidates at a round table outside of the tavern.

“Hey, welcome!” Sterling stood and waved as they approached. Velas recognized Eridus as one of the other two applicants with him, but once again Eridus just looked away as they approached. The other man was all bulk – he looked like he had more muscle than Velas’ entire platoon. He had chalk-white skin, tattoos resembling a deer’s antlers running up his arms, and a shaved head. He gave a simple nod as they walked closer.

“You need a hand there?” The muscular man asked.

“Nah. Wouldn’t mind if you wanted to pull up some chairs for us, though.”

“Take mine, I’ll go get another couple,” Sterling offered, turning and heading inside the tavern.

Landen led Velas over to the open chair and set her down. She winced as she half-collapsed into the seat, leaning down to rub her left leg, which was aching the most.

“Any idea what we’re up to here?” Landen asked the table, standing nearby.

“Sterling hasn’t told us much of anything yet. Think we’re starting in a minute, though.”

“Quite right!” Sterling said, carrying a chair under each arm as he exited the tavern. He nodded to Landen as the other man grabbed one of the chairs from his hand and set it down next to Velas.

Sterling set his own chair down on the opposite side of the table and folded his hands together. “Excellent. I think this will probably be all of us. Shall we begin?”

The tattooed man reached across the table toward Landen. “First, introductions. I’m Alden Stone. From Sythus. I’m in Platoon Three with Jon.” He gave a toothy grin, displaying impressively pristine teeth.

Stone? It’s a common name, but that might mean he’s related to the Arbiter of Koranir. That could give him a significant advantage in the competition.

Landen shook his hand. “Landen. Platoon two. From Orlyn, most recently at least.”

Alden quickly exchanged introductions with the others – everyone else seemed to know each other to some extent already.

“All right, now that we all know each other, let’s get started. First, the rules. Quite simple, really. We drink until we can’t drink anymore. Everyone drinks at the same time – unless they can’t. We’ll take a mug about every five minutes. I’ll order us all the same drinks, so no one gets to drink water while the rest of us are ailing.”

He winked at the last word. Velas rolled her eyes at the pun.

“Any questions?”

Velas folded her arms and quirked an eyebrow. “The prize?”

“Oh, yes, that. Each of us is going to throw in a pin. Winner gets the pot.”

Landen stood up. “Sorry, all. I’m out, then. Can’t take the risk.” He looked down at Velas. “You going to be okay to get back without me?

Velas waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. A few drinks will do me good. You sure you don’t want to stay? I could buy you in.”

He shook his head. “No, wouldn’t want to risk you losing two pins.”

“You think I could lose?”

He ruffled her hair. “Of course not. I’ll see you back at camp.”

Sterling tipped his hat as Landen walked away. “A shame – I was looking forward to seeing what he was capable of.”

“I’m sure you’ve got more than enough competition right here. Shall we begin?”

The participants each put a single pin in the center of the table. Velas, after some thought, put the Sytira pin that Asphodel had given her in the center.
I’d be no good in the Sytira branch. Maybe this competition is why Asphodel gave it to me?

Sterling ordered the first round of drinks. It was heavy ale, and after downing the mug Velas felt like she had just eaten an extra lunch.

Eridus looked green in the face after the first few sips. He stirred his finger in the mug for a few moments, then frowned and took another drink.

Both Sterling and Alden downed the beverages with no trouble at all.

Three drinks later, Eridus was leaning heavily against the table. Velas rubbed at her head, trying to chase away the blur that was covering her vision.

Sterling and Alden were bantering playfully, still barely seeming affected.

“So, Velas,” Alden started, turning toward her. “You’re a woman!”

Velas held a hand to her chest as if shocked. “Who told you?”

Alden let out a loud, echoing laugh. “It is obvious! But what, why are you in this?”

“You mean the competition? There are plenty of female paladins. Like, you know, the colonel.”

Alden shook his head. “No, no! Female paladins are good. I mean the drinking game – not to offend, but you are much smaller than we are, yes?”

She shrugged. He wasn’t entirely wrong – Alden looked like he had about two or three times her mass. Maybe more like five times her mass when he was sufficiently blurry.

“That’s not all that matters,” she mumbled. “’sides, it’s fun.”

“Ah, you are quite right! More drinks, Jon.”

Sterling shook his head at the exchange, but waved at a nearby attendant for another round of drinks.

Okay, I’m starting to feel this pretty hard. Looks like Eridus is getting hit harder than I am – or wait, is he?

Eridus wasn’t slouching quite as much as he had been a few minutes before. Velas frowned.

He was stirring his finger in his drink again.

Oh, that little bastard.

She pondered his strategy for a moment – could Sterling or Alden be doing the same thing? Could she do anything analogous herself?

My “sorcery resistance” might be applicable here…if I can find the alcohol in my body, maybe I could expel it somehow. It’s liquid, though – how could I get rid of it without making a mess?

As she debated that, Sterling returned with more drinks, and the world grew a little bit heavier with each sip.

Need to think. World uncooperative.

She raised a hand to her forehead, wiping it off, and noticed Eridus standing and rushing inside the tavern.

“One out,” Sterling noted with a grin. He raised a hand and tilted his hat toward the tavern.

Guess Eridus’ bladder wasn’t cooperating - even if he was purifying his alcohol into water, it wouldn’t help with that.

We’ll all have to deal with that at some point, I suppose. If I can keep my head up that long.

As Sterling put his hand back down on the table, Velas noted a glint of metal – a simple silver band, turned around with a clear gemstone facing inward toward his palm.

Well, well. Guess Sterling has a little trick, too.

Alden yawned and stretched loudly, cracking his back. “It is good drinking. We should do more of this.”

Velas nodded weakly, pressing a hand against the table and closing her eyes.
Okay, alcohol. Where do you live?

She tried to focus, picturing the dominions in her body as auras of shimmering light, but the mixture of inebriation and the remaining pain in her legs made it difficult to focus.

Okay, not good enough, too muddled. Take another drink.

She raised her mug and drank, focusing on the liquid as it poured down her throat. This made it easier to envision, a stream of green fluid passing into her body. She could sense similar components already within her stomach, small intestines, bladder, liver, and blood.

Locking on to the parts that were alcoholic was more difficult. She knew her liver would already be at work on trying to break some of the alcohol down, but she had no way of discerning which components of the alcohol had already been metabolized. Without a common characteristic to search for, she couldn’t concentrate sufficiently to identify which parts of the alcohol were toxic to her and separate it from the raw water.

“You all right there, Jaldin? Still with us?” Sterling was grinning at her when she opened her eyes.

“Just savoring the drink,” she said. “More.”

“We cannot argue with the woman!” Alden pronounced. “More!”

Sterling chuckled and nodded, ordering more drinks.

Need to think. Can’t handle much more of this. Tired.

She laid her head down on her arms, closing her eyes for a moment. The sound of a mug slamming against the table jarred her back into alertness.

“More!” Alden pronounced, turning to Sterling. “I will see you drunk yet, my friend.”

“Yes, keep dreaming, Alden. It’s good to keep your spirit alive, even as your strength falters.”

“Oh, you’re taunting, it will do you no good!’