Descent Into Darkness (Book 2) (18 page)

"I'm glad you enjoyed my first tale, but I fear I've made a mistake!"

The immediate response of the crowd was a resounding "No!" and chants of "Tremain!" started up. Of course, the Sparkteller allowed it to continue for a bit before raising his hands to silence the crowd once again.

"Yes, yes, despite your confidence in me, I did make a mistake. My mistake was to start off with such a gripping and exciting tale. How could anyone top the story of Dayson and the Beast? I should have started out with a lesser story, maybe the heart-wrenching story of ill-fated lovers Ramone and Isabelle or the darkly humorous tale of The Vengeful Water Spirit."

"I am so sorry, my friends, to have started so strong and not planned ahead. Such a large mistake should not come from a Sparkteller with so many years of experience. I feel like a common storyteller, who, even without my abilities, could have at least planned out their stories to slowly build in excitement over the night. Perhaps this is a sign that I should retire and give the younger Sparktellers a chance to shock and amaze you."

Again, yells of "No!" and "Tremain!" filled the common room. Tremain himself ducked his head, shoulders slumping, and tried to wave them off as he shook his head. To most in the room he probably looked defeated, but being up front Ean got a good view of the man's face. Tremain was wearing an enormous grin. It was all part of the show.

The Sparkteller let the chants go on a little longer and finally raised his head and hands, silencing the crowd once more. The smile was gone from his face, replaced by heavy eyes and downturned lips. Ean couldn't decide if he disliked the man for all of the theatrics or if he enjoyed them.

"Thank you," Tremain continued once the crowd had grown silent. "I have always appreciated the support of the people. For you, I will still continue on this night and give you a show, although it will be a poorer one than you deserve. I simply hope that you still think fondly of me as I retell the fateful story of...Jamirian and the Living Blade!"

The explosion of cheering and applause that erupted from the crowd made Ean jump. Clearly this next story was greater than the first, going by the crowd's reaction. The dejected look, of course, was gone from the Sparkteller, and he lifted his hands as the sparks of multicolor light flew from his fingertips.

This time, a much smaller man appeared, his face a blur, as well. He was clothed in a simple shirt and pants, in a similar fashion to many of the people in the room. What really caught Ean's eye was the sword in his hand. The blade, half as long as the man wielding it, shone with a dark blue light and was more detailed than any of the other images the Sparkteller had created so far. Intricate designs covered the blade itself, its hilt a mesh of twisting yellow lines that could have been gold. The image of the man periodically twirled the blade around as the crowd continued to cheer.

Ean sat back and marveled at the Sparkteller's ability to control the crowd. If Ean could control the creatures he summoned half as well as Tremain could control the people in the room, he would be happy. Taking a sip from his somehow freshly filled mug, Ean couldn't help but smile as the Sparkteller began his second story.

Jamirian had been a farmer who one day was digging in his fields and found a sword. The sword turned out to be magical and imbued with intelligence. Some dark force found out about the blade and this put Jamirian on the run as he tried to learn more about his new companion. The story ended with Jamirian just barely escaping from a cult army and continuing his quest to learn more about his blade.

Jamirian's story was more impressive than the previous one, with a great deal of suspense and quite a few battles. When the story finally came to a close, the crowd again bathed the Sparkteller in applause. Tremain let the crowd applaud for a bit longer than last time, and again began to complain about how he could not top that story. He put on another show of being disappointed in himself before finally revealing the next story, which did end up being even more impressive. This back and forth continued for five more stories, each one more thrilling than the last, until the Sparkteller gave his final bows and left the stage.

THE CROWD ROSE TO their feet as he left, clapping and yelling out compliments, the women sometimes more vocal than the men. Ean heard quite a few offers from a variety of women that flushed his cheeks. He tried to stand and applaud as well, but ended up becoming dizzy and sitting back down. Maybe it wasn't the brash words that made his face flush.

Glancing behind him at the three empty mugs, Ean tried his best to remember how much he had consumed during the Sparkteller's performance. It had to be more than those three mugs, as he vaguely remembered his cup being refilled a few times while it was still in his hand. Now that he thought about it--as well as he could considering his condition--Azalea had poured her mug into his quite a few times during the night as well. At the time Ean had thought the gesture had been nice coming from the Yulari, but now as his head became heavy and his vision blurry, he wasn't entirely sure.

Looking around, Ean wasn't able to spot the Yulari anywhere in the crowd. Had she left his side before the last story or had she gotten up before the story before that? Shaking his head to try and clear it up a bit, he stretched his senses to see if she was still close by. It took him a while to feel anything, and surprisingly he felt the smaller form of Zin above him first. Feeling out for a bit longer, he finally felt her over in the direction of the bar.

Pushing himself up on wobbly legs, Ean walked his hands along the table as he moved. Once he reached the end of the table, his legs felt strong enough to support him on their own and he carefully began to make his way through the crowd towards the bar. Quite a few of the other patrons Ean passed seemed to be in just as bad of condition as he was, making him feel slightly less embarrassed. He really had to watch how much he drank in the future.

The bar was still packed as Ean reached the end closest to the stage. Most of those sitting at the bar were talking with the people in the immediate vicinity, sharing drinks and a few still having a bite to eat. Down at the end of the bar, though a great deal of people, from common workers to nicely dressed merchants, were all gathered in a circle around one person. Ean would have known that one person was Azalea even if he couldn't feel her.

Moving next to the gathering of people, Ean tried to push his way through but was just as quickly pushed right back.

"You don't have a chance, boy," one man dressed in a fancy looking green coat and pants said as he sneered at Ean.

"You're a little young for this one, I think," another man who could not have had more than a few years on Ean said.

When a third man simply growled at him while placing a hand on his shoulder and shoving him back, Ean had had enough. His head was already half filled with alcohol and now the rest was filled with contempt. Contempt for these weak individuals that were falling all over each other just to get the tiniest bit of attention from Azalea.

Taking in the energy from the Abyss, Ean grabbed the man's hand with a gloved one of his own. Ean's initial instinct was to unleash his energy into the man, forever altering him in some way. That would certainly get the others attention. But that was the alcohol thinking, not his own desires. Deforming the man would probably get him killed by everyone else in the room, and if not, it would certainly bring the Seekers down on him.

So instead, he simply began to squeeze. At first the man just sneered at him, neither intimidated nor impressed. But as Ean applied more and more pressure, the energy of the Abyss increasing his strength, the man's expression changed first to confusion, then fear, and ended with panic and pain as the bones in his hand started to grind together in Ean's grip. Ean kept up the pressure, almost positive that if he tightened even the slightest bit more he would hear the crack of broken bones. When the man's face started to go pale, Ean finally released him, giving the man as cold of a stare as he could manage.

The man, now nursing his hand, quickly got up and moved away without another word. Those around him took one look at his face and cleared a path for him to Azalea as well. Ean had no idea whether it was because they had watched what he had done or because of his expression, but either way he didn't care. He moved quickly through the opening and was not surprised by what he saw.

Azalea was sitting on one man's lap, her hand caressing another man's face while she spoke to a third. All three did not even bother to hide the jealous looks they shot at each other before sending all smiles at the Yulari. Whenever Azalea moved her attention to the rest of the men gathered around her, the three closest would simply glare at the rest, as if their stares alone could make the other men disappear. When she finally noticed Ean pushing his way through, she gave a squeal of delight and hopped off of the man's lap.

"Ean, you're still awake! How wonderful that you chose not to pass out again and have me carry you off to bed. Is my little brother finally able to handle more than one drink?"

Playfully grabbing his side, she smirked at him. Despite himself Ean found a smile starting to touch his lips and quickly tried to squash it. The Yulari had tried to get him drunk, probably so he would be out of her way and wouldn't try to stop her from playing. Her words though were missing their usual scorn and sarcasm...

"Azalea, I think we should probably call it a night," Ean said in as serious a tone as he could muster. "We have to get up early tomorrow and have a lot of planning to do."

"Not at all! By pure luck I met the one person you need to see." Gesturing a hand towards the man that had until recently been her seat, Azalea flashed the older gentleman a smile before returning her attention to Ean. "This happens to be Meganan Ciantar, patriarch of the Ciantar Hawkpurse family. We've been becoming close friends, haven't we, Meg?"

As the man rose to his feet, Ean took a closer look at him. Standing almost a head taller than Ean, Meganan was in his later years with a face that contained more lines and wrinkles than an unmade bed. His white hair was cut short and neat, which matched his closely trimmed eyebrows and small mustache of similar color. His clothing was less impressive than Ean expected for the man who ran one of the most powerful trading families in the land. He wore a simple black tunic and matching pants that had seen better years, and his boots looked as though they had seen their fair share of travels.

The coldness in his eyes was reflected in his voice when he spoke.

"And who is this young gentleman, Azalea? A servant of yours perhaps?"

"No, Meg, you jealous old man," Azalea replied with a short laugh. "This is my older brother, Ean. He'll be joining me on your caravan as well."

"Brother?" Meganan seemed to taste the word at first, then apparently content with it, offered Ean a hand and a slightly warmer smile. "Pleasure to meet you, lad. Your sister is quite the interesting woman, but I'm sure you already know that."

"Yes, well--" Ean started but Meganan just kept talking right over him, the older man's attention back on Azalea.

"Very sneaky of you not mention your brother before. I may have promised you a free ride into the Deadlands, but that same offer doesn't apply to your brother. For him to come, he either has to pay the traveler's fee or work, and going by what you have told me about your family, I doubt you will be able to pay."

"This is true," Azalea replied with a heavy sigh. "With our parents gone and our farm nothing but ashes, we have little money. Thankfully my brother has always worked hard to keep us alive. I'm sure he will be happy to work at whatever job you need filled. Isn't that right, Ean?"

"That's right, whatever I can do to pay OUR way," Ean said through clenched teeth. He shot Azalea a look that hopefully left no doubt about how he felt about the situation. The Yulari probably could have gotten them both a free ride on the caravan, but she just loved to make his life difficult.

"See?" Azalea said, wrapping an arm around Meganan to the chagrin of the other men gathered around. "Everything always works out when I'm around. Now why don't you go get some sleep, brother? We have a long few days ahead of us and you should get plenty of rest. Who knows what fun jobs you'll be performing on the trip?"

"Shouldn't you be going to bed then too, sister?"

"Oh no, not yet," she said, winking at him. "I think there are still a few things that Meg and I need to discuss about the trip. Plus I believe a few of these other gentlemen did promise me a couple of drinks. Isn't that right, boys?"

The resounding "Yes!" from the men around them drowned out Ean's protest. He tried to make a grab for her arm, but the surrounding men quickly moved into the space that had been created and muscled him back to the outside of the crowd. For the briefest moment he considered trying to fight his way back to the center, but he gave up on that idea. If she wanted to stay up and toy with the men here, he might as well let her. There was no real harm in it, as long as no one was found dead the following morning.

With the ale making his eyes heavy, Ean decided that sleep was a good idea. Not because Azalea had suggested it, he was just thinking of how difficult it would be to get up the following morning and make the caravan if he stayed up much later. So with legs still not completely under his control, Ean climbed his way up the back stairs to his room.

Zin was waiting for him as he entered the room, but Ean waved off whatever the imp was trying to say and collapsed onto his bed. He heard Zin mumble something, but the imp eventually grew quiet. With the room silent and his eyes closed, it was only a matter of time before Ean drifted away to a peaceful sleep.