Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2) (12 page)

“Kale and I have something to
tell you, Delilah.” Kali opened her arms.

Delilah scoffed and shoved Kali
out of the way. “Yeah, congratulations.” She slammed the door behind her.

Kali let her arms drop. Kale
wrapped her in a hug from behind. “Don’t worry about her. I told you she
wouldn’t be happy, but she’ll get over it. I think she had kind of a bad
morning, you know?” He didn’t much blame Delilah for her jealousy. He wasn’t
the nicest drak when he thought she gave Zarach Stoneclaw too much attention
back home. Maybe he’d be waiting there for her still… if they ever returned to
Drak-Anor.

“She hates me, Kale. She always
has.”

“No, she doesn’t. She’s just—”

Kali turned to face him and
nuzzled his neck. “Shh… it doesn’t matter. I only care what you think about
me.”

Kale grinned. “Well, I think we
established that earlier, huh?”

“Mm. So, what happened with her
at the Arcane University? Did she have a chance to tell you before you blurted
out the news? ‘Cause I can imagine her spending that entire time berating you
for slumming with someone like me.”

Kale pulled back, holding Kali at
arm’s length. “Slumming?”

“You’re a Child of Destiny.
Clearly, you’re too good for the likes of me, she thinks.”

Pressing his lips together, Kale
narrowed his eyes. “You said you didn’t care what she thinks. Besides, I know
for a fact that neither one of us buys into that special destiny stuff.”

“Yeah, why not?”

“A dragon told me it was
nonsense.” Kale had a fuzzy memory of Terrakaptis telling him prophecies were
just vague stories invented by old sages and had no bearing on the real world.
He had been recovering from falling into a chasm and was half-dead at the time,
but Kale was fairly certain what he recalled was a real conversation.

“Am I ever going to meet this
dragon of yours?” Kali smiled and ran a clawed finger down to the tip of his
snout.

“Of course—” He’d been about to
tell Kali he would introduce them when they returned home, but he realized he
didn’t know when that would be. “I mean, eventually. We’re going to be here a
while now, I think.”

“Why?”

“Delilah has to stay here. The
archmage made her an initiate. If she leaves, he’ll make her a renegade, and
those slayer people will hunt her down. I’m not leaving her, Kali.”

Kali wrapped her arms around him
and nibbled at his ear. “I understand. I wouldn’t ask you to. I wanted to
explore this city, anyway. Now we’ll have plenty of time for that.”

* * *

Pancras swirled the mead in his
goblet before drinking the last gulp. “So, Edric. Are you coming with me, or
staying?”

The dwarf slurped the foam from
his mug of ale and then consulted his money pouch. “I don’t fancy staying with
the draks, so I reckon I’ll come with you. Ain’t had no luck here anyway.”

“You’re under no obligation.”

Edric shrugged. “One city’s much
like the next, but this one”—he glanced at his surroundings—“reminds me too
much of home, but without my kinfolk. Maybe I’ll find someplace better along
the way. Until then, I’ll tag along, I reckon.”

Pancras traced his finger along a
stain on the table. His head was clear now, and he realized the archmage placed
a spell of compulsion on him. Waves of nausea assaulted him every time he
thought of going anywhere except Vlorey. Even if there was a way to defeat
Vilkan’s charm, in his heart, he wasn’t sure he should even try.

He regretted having to abandon
Delilah. The draks, Kale and Delilah, at least, were like family. He felt responsible
for their well-being, even though they were fully capable of caring for
themselves.

“Well, I guess I should figure
out the best way to get there.”

“What’s to figure?” Edric took a
swig of his ale. “Follow the trade roads north until you run out of road and
into the ocean. That’s where Vlorey will be, right?”

“So it seems. Back through
Etrunia, past Almeria and Maritropa to Cardoba, then Vlorey.” He blew out a
long breath. “It’s a long way.”

“I have a suggestion.” Gisella,
the Golden Slayer, pulled up a chair. Edric gave her a sidelong glance and then
returned his attention to his ale.

“By all means, have a seat.”
Pancras regarded the Golden Slayer in the common room of the Granite Anvil.
What
does the archmage want now?
“Do you always keep your helmet on when walking
around town?”

“There are men foolish enough to
assume all women are prey in this part of town, particularly if they appear to
be foreigners.” She adjusted her helm and then placed her hands in front of her
on the table. “I have assigned myself as the slayer who will accompany you to
Vlorey, and I know a faster way than taking the roads.”

Pancras rubbed his right horn and
held his goblet up for a refill. “You? Why?”

“I have business there, so it is
a matter of convenience.”

“So what’s this other way?” Edric
drained his mug and slammed it on the table.

“Due east… well, east and
slightly south.” She unrolled a map onto the table and traced a route with her
finger. “Past Curton, to Cliffport. Buy passage on a trading vessel and sail up
the coast. Much faster than horses.”

Pancras noticed the color drain
from Edric’s face.

“I ain’t getting on no ship.”

With the trouble they had
convincing him to ford a river on horseback, Pancras didn’t want to contemplate
how they’d coax the dwarf onto a ship. That, however, was a challenge they
would address later.

“I don’t really need an escort.
The spell—”

“The archmage has issued a
decree. It’s not your place to challenge it.” Gisella rolled up her map.
“Besides, what I said was true. I have business in Vlorey. There’s no reason
not to travel together.”

The dwarf pointed at Curton’s
marker on the map. “Dwegerthon’s near there, I reckon. Have you heard anything
about the dwarf-folk there?”

Gisella tore her eyes away from
Pancras for a moment to shake her head. “Little of import—”

“What if I don’t like you?” He
had no real opinion about the woman, but he disliked being under control of a
compulsory enchantment. He liked it even less that the archmage added insult to
injury and employed the slayer as escort to guarantee he’d arrive at his end
destination.

Gisella reached over and patted
his hand. “You’re only saying that because you don’t know me.”

Sighing, Pancras rubbed his eyes
and resigned himself to traveling with Gisella as his escort.
Things always
become worse before they improve
.

Chapter 7

Delilah stomped into the inn’s
common room, stopping short when she saw the Golden Slayer sitting with Pancras
and Edric. She hoped to catch Pancras alone. He perked up when he saw her and
gestured for her to join them. Delilah girded herself and pulled up a chair.

“I’m glad you’re here. I have a
list of things you need to bring with you tomorrow when you report to the
archmage.” Gisella reached into her pouch and pulled out a scrap of parchment.
She passed it to Delilah.

She looked it over, thankful she
spent so much time while traveling to learn the common trade language. The list
seemed innocuous enough: a quill pen and ink, a codex of blank pages, a small
cauldron, a mortar and pestle, a sharp knife suitable for chopping, and an
object to be attuned into an arcane focus. The list provided quite a lot of
detail on the last item. Either a staff or stick to be used as a wand, a
trinket to be made into an amulet, or affixed to a larger object.

“I already have an arcane focus.
Where am I supposed to get this stuff?” She handed the list to Pancras. Delilah
had no money; to this point, Pancras handled all the expenses.

“I’m sure there are shops that
sell these things. I’ll leave my mortar and pestle with you, if you like. I can
replace it when we arrive in Vlorey.” He passed the list back to Delilah.

“She should buy her own. She’ll
make a better impression on the potions master with new equipment. She can be
very finicky.”

Edric pushed himself away from
the table. “I’m going to see what’s around. Don’t leave without me.”

Pancras looked up. “Not to
worry.”

“So, he’s going with you?”
Delilah figured the dwarf would stay in Muncifer, since it used to be a dwarven
city.

“Yes, he says it reminds him too
much of home to stay here.”

Delilah looked over the list
again. She furrowed her brow as she tried to guess how much each item might
cost. The worry must have shown on her face.

“It’s just for a little while,
Delilah. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have enough money to get you started.”
He looked at Gisella. “Students still receive a stipend, yes?”

“It’s not much, but if you take
your meals at the university and live there, it’ll be enough to get by.”

It was not an ideal situation.
At
least if I live alone, I won’t have to put up with that other drak.
Her
thoughts turned to ways of evading slayers like Gisella.
If I flee into the
mountains, they might not follow, not with all the local trouble with giants.
Maybe Kale and I can find a drak village on the other side. I’ll bet they don’t
send slayers into the Western Wastes.

“Delilah?”

She realized Pancras had spoken
to her. She looked up at him as he tapped his finger on the table gain her
attention. “Go retrieve your things, and we’ll see about shopping for those
items on the list. You will have a busy day tomorrow.”

Gisella nodded in agreement. “The
first few days will be constant, but they should slow down a bit after your
Initiate Trials.”

Delilah’s lip curled. “If he ever
lets me take them.” She had no expectation of fair treatment. She perceived
Manless would hold her back and have her perform meaningless, pointless,
degrading tasks until she escaped or died doing them.

“All trials are scheduled and
frequent. He won’t be able to stop you, not with the whole university watching
a new drak student. Once you earn your novice’s robes, you’ll have a bit of
autonomy.”

“He’s going to be watching me
like a hawk!”

“He’s the archmage.” Gisella offered
her a smile. “He’ll be too busy to give you that kind of personal attention all
the time.”

“If he does, he’s neglecting his
duties as archmage.” Pancras scratched his chin. “And once you’re a novice,
you’ll be out and about frequently.”

“The masters take perverse
delight in sending novices all over the place on pointless errands. You’ll be
sent all over the city, possibly to some of the nearby villages as well. The
archmage will be too busy running the guild to worry about where you are.”

Delilah doubted that.
Nevertheless, she didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. She returned to
her room, creeping past Kale’s room. The last thing she wanted was a
confrontation with her brother and that other drak. After grabbing her staff
and her pouches, she returned to the common area where Pancras waited for her,
alone.

Together, they ventured into the
heart of the city and down into the undercity. “Gisella says the best prices on
the items you need can be found here.”

Delilah didn’t care what Gisella
thought and almost told Pancras that before remembering he planned to pay for
her supplies. The undercity was even more like Ironkrag than the rest of
Muncifer. Avenues and streets were completely encased in stone, a legacy of
their dwarven architecture. Stairs cut from rock led deeper into the chasm
bisecting the city, and bridges allowed access to shops on both sides of the
rift.

The people of Muncifer paid no
mind to Pancras or Delilah as they made their way down, looking for shops that
sold the supplies she needed. She noticed more draks and fewer minotaurs the
deeper they went. Most of the archways separating plazas and streets were low
enough that Pancras had to duck underneath them, though most of the humans did
not. The air was close and smelled of soot from the myriad of open flames
providing light.

“You’d think the wizards would
create lanterns or something, like we did in Drak-Anor.” She stopped in front
of a stall that sold a variety of tankards and mugs.

“Most people up top don’t care
much for what goes on down here. Certainly not enough to enchant street lights
for them.” Pancras pointed to a shop across the way. “That place looks like it
has cauldrons.”

The shop not only sold potion
brewing supplies, but was, in fact, also a fully stocked apothecary. Despite
the ever-present tang of soot, the shop had a warm, spicy fragrance layered on
top of the undercurrent of unpleasantness. It was run by an older minotaur. Her
black fur was streaked with white, and a part of her left horn was missing. She
smiled when Pancras entered.

“Ah, a strapping male entering my
shop. Not looking for virility potions, I hope? You’re far too young for that.”

Pancras cleared his throat and
pulled Delilah to stand before him. “No, we need a cauldron. A sharp knife too,
for reagent chopping?” He patted Delilah’s shoulders and pushed her toward the
minotaur.

“Sounds like an initiate’s
getting ready to start at the Arcane University.” She shuffled around behind
her counter and pulled out a short-bladed knife and sheath. After laying it on
the counter, she stepped over to a rack of shelves and examined the various
cauldrons.

“That one. I want that one.”
Delilah pointed to a silvery-grey cauldron with three clawed feet on the
bottom.
If I’m going to be forced to listen to wizards prattle on and on
about magic, I might as well have the nicest equipment.

“A fine choice, but it’s not
really a beginner’s cauldron. How about this one?” The minotaur held up a plain
black cauldron with a ring base.

“I want the other one. I’m only
an initiate because that Manless bastard is making me start at the bottom
because he hates draks.”

“Oh, ho, ho, someone is a little
bitter. Not my business, no, it isn’t.” She brought the cauldron Delilah
selected over to the counter and leaned, letting her tunic fall forward a bit
to give Pancras a view. She smiled at him.

“Are you one of the masters
there? A new one, maybe? I’ve not seen you around.”

Pancras made a point of looking
away from her. “No. No, I’m just passing through. Delilah here is the student,
and I’m just helping with expenses. How much?”

The minotaur reached over and
stroked the back of Pancras’s hand. “So rare to see an intelligent male in
these parts. How long are you passing through for? Maybe looking for some company,
hm?”

Delilah pushed Pancras’s hand out
of the way and stood on tiptoes to peer across the counter. “Don’t get out
much, do you? How much? We have other shops to hit before they close for the
night.”

“Two crowns for all this. I’ll
take six and a half talons if you want the other cauldron instead.”

Pancras fumbled in his pouch.
“Two crowns is fine.” He tossed two of the gold coins on the counter, turned,
and left Delilah to gather her new cauldron and knife.

“If he changes his mind, I’m
Alecta, little drak.” The minotaur grabbed Delilah’s hand and pulled her up
against the counter. “And take care who you mouth off to about the archmage,
hm? He has ears everywhere and very long arms.”

Delilah took her purchases,
exited the shop, and joined Pancras in the street. He stood at a railing
overlooking the chasm. “Geez, what was her problem?”

Pancras chuckled. “She’s lonely,
I guess.”

“Her name’s Alecta if you change
your mind. I didn’t have the heart to tell her you won’t.”

“Thanks.” Pancras rubbed the back
of his neck. “I never have the heart to tell the females I’m just not
interested in them, and the older they are, the more aggressive they become.”

Talk of courtship brought back
feelings Delilah didn’t want to think about at the moment. She pushed images of
her brother and his mate out of her head. “Where to now? I still need paper and
ink.”

Pancras led her down another
flight of stairs and across a wooden bridge. “I think I saw a place over this
way.”

The shop was not a bookshop, as
Delilah expected, and seemed to have no merchandise at all. At the back of the
boutique, some sort of machine made rhythmic pounding noises. A drak at a desk
in one corner of the shop reclined in his chair with his feet propped up on the
desk. He sat up when Pancras and Delilah entered, nearly falling out of his
chair in his haste to sit properly.

“Oh, hey, customers. I’m Jairo.
What can I do for you?” He stumbled out of his chair, wiping his hands on a
dirty apron. “Jairo’s Printing, for all your”—he stared at Delilah—“umm…desti…
umm… printing needs.”

“We need a blank codex, quill,
and ink.” Pancras fished within his pouch for money.

“Right. Scribes?”

“Student.” Pancras sorted through
a handful of coins.

Delilah cringed to hear herself
described as a student. The drak fumbled as he searched for the items Pancras
mentioned while he stared almost entirely at Delilah.

“I didn’t… I didn’t know there
were… umm… Children of Destiny here. In Muncifer, I mean. I hadn’t heard.
That’s umm… that’s something. And you’re learning magic, huh? Yeah…”

Delilah cleared her throat and
thumped the butt of her staff against the floor. “I already know magic, and I’m
not from Muncifer. We’re from Drak-Anor.”

Jairo stopped and stared, his
body a statue as the candlelight flickered on his dusty-grey scales. Finally,
he regained his wits. “I’ve heard of that.” He pointed a shaking finger at
Delilah. “You, the draks, drove out the dwarves and oroqs and claimed a whole
mountain kingdom for yourselves!”

Pancras glanced at Delilah. “Our
legend grows.”

“That’s not how it happened.”

Jairo ran to his desk. He dipped
a quill pen in ink and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment. “Oh, I must hear
all about this.”

Delilah tapped the butt of her
staff against the floor again. “Supplies. Customers. We’re buying or walking.”

Pancras pursed his lips and shook
his head as he laid a hand on Delilah’s shoulders. “I’m sure there will be
another time Delilah can set the record straight. Jairo, is it? We have a busy
afternoon, so if you would, please gather ink, a quill, and a black codex?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” He laid
down his pen and gathered the supplies. He offered them to Delilah. “If, if you
would promise to spend some time with me, set the record straight, you can have
these, no charge. The draks here need to know about Drak-Anor. The true story.”
He looked up at Pancras and then back at Delilah. “There are so many humans,
oroqs, even minotaurs, who treat us like vermin, some draks are starting to
believe it of themselves. We need good news.”

“What are you going to do with
the story of Drak-Anor?” Pancras helped Delilah stow her supplies.

“I print a weekly broadsheet. A
penny for all the goings on in Muncifer and more.” He chuckled. “Well, when I
can find more. Advertise for services, that sort of thing. I would print the
stories in the broadsheet. Most of my customers are draks, some minotaurs.
They’re generally nicer to us than humans. It’s important for them to hear these
things.”

Delilah thought of the stories
she could tell Jairo. The story of how she and Kale were trapped in a cave-in.
He found the Earth Dragon, Terrakaptis, while she traveled to break the ice
between the dwarves of Ironkrag and the residents of Drak-Anor. How Drak-Anor
won its freedom from the oroqs, and how she and Kale freed the slaves in
Almeria. A grin appeared on her face, unbidden, and she nodded.