Merchants and Mages (Highmage's Plight Book 2) (20 page)

Question of Commitment

Chapter 34

K
atrin looked into Dustin’s glowing eyes and scried… a pool bereft of its rippling waters. Dustin half turned away, saying, “Katrin, I need your help.”

 
“You know what could happen! We could be trapped here forever!”

 
“I know,” he muttered.

 
“You don’t love me – and you’d risk this?”

 
“Katrin!”

 
“I love you, why can’t you love me?” she cried, her seemingly endless tears filling the bowl before her.

 
Dustin turned and faced her. There was something wrong with his face, then she realized that he was wearing makeup. Why was he wearing cosmetics?

 
“I can’t!” he rasped.

 
“You will,” she sobbed, demanded, as she felt the link break.

The sword blazed with blue light as Fri’il began to slump forward. George and Se’and grabbed her before she could fall. Se’and carefully reached for the hilt as it swung downward, her fingers closing over Fri’il’s. She let out a gasp.

 
She stood facing seemingly a hundred mother shamans. “So, you have come before us at last.”

 
“What?”

 
“Se’and Ryff’s daughter,” another said. “Yours is not an easy path.”

 
“Where am I?”

 
“This is the place outside of time where mother shamen meet upon our deaths. It is here we discuss the world we knew and learn of the world yet to be,” a third said.

 
“Why am I here?”

 
“Because, you are the crux…”

 
“One of the cruxes,” another said and others echoed.

 
“Of the Prophecy?” Se’and asked.

 
“Of Prophecies and prophecies… which fate decrees lays in the lap of your House.”

 
Se’and frowned. “What are you asking of me.”

 
“What is most difficult… One day you must give up everything you love. Can you do this?”

 
She lowered her head, “Everything?”

 
“Everything.”

 
Se’and nodded.

 
“Will any gainsay her commitment, Sisters?”

 
“I do.”

 
There was a hiss of wind.

 
“You do not believe her commitment?”

 
Se’and turned and saw a blonde–haired woman striding forth with a glowing sword. “I forbid this!”

 
The mother shamen stepped back.

 
The face was familiar, yet not. The voice seemed one she should know, but did not.

 
“I’ll take her place.”

 
“You?” the speaker leaned forward, “Who are you?”

 
“Everyone keeps asking me that,” she muttered. “Well, consider me the Mother Shaman of the future!”

 
“You have no right to be here.”

 
“Really?” she set her blade point first upon the darkness that was the ethereal floor. “I’ve every right. I’ve played –– or from her perspective have yet to play my role in the prophecies… You will not take everything from her.”

 
“The prophecy is clear…”

 
“Se’and, I give you this gift –– hope.”

 
A voice screamed, “SE’AND!”

 
The shades of the mother shamen vanished in seeming fright.

All save the other woman, who raised her sword and laughed, “I give you Hope, Sister.”

 
“SE’AND!”

 
“Je’orj?” Se’and rasped, feeling faint.

“Je’orj?” Se’and cried, almost whimpering his name.

 
“I’ve, uh, got you both,” George said, now trying to support both women

at once, as Raven hurried forward and helped steady them.

  “Je–– a” Fri’il blinked, “Uh, Master Jeo, what happened?”

 
That’s when there was a scream of: “YOU WILL!”

Everyone was now staring as Katrin screamed again tearing her gaze away from Dustin’s, pulling herself out of the elfblood mage’s arms yelling, “You will!”

 
“Huh?” the journeyman muttered.

 
Katrin slapped his face, then ran from the Hall. The watching mages made no move to stop her. They were too busy staring at the sword whose tip clove the floor. It vibrated ever so slightly.

Galt said, “Well, Master Jeo, it seems we’ve succeeded a bit too well.”

  George shook his head as Se’and and Fri’il leaned closer to him. Fri’il was breathing rather hard and staring at the sword in her hand.

“It seems we fulfilled our commission for a bane sword.”

  “That sword was silver before, wasn’t it?” Se’and said.

 
“It was. Now it is something else,” Galt agreed. “And it’s keyed to young Farrel here.”

 
“Keyed?” George and Fri’il echoed.

 
“Congratulations, you’ve your very own bane sword, young man.

And we, my friends, have to start all over again. Oh, excellent work, Dustin.”

  “Uh, thank you, Master.”
I think,
he thought, trying not to glance at the door Katrin had stormed out of. His face still burned where she slapped him.

Bane Sword

Chapter 35

“W
e’ll never get another sword,” one of the Faeryn masters whispered.

 
“The Mage Guild will see to that – certain we’ll try again after wot they done t’other,” another said.

 
Dustin stared at the sword keyed to the servant lad. “What have I done?”

 
“You repaired the sword,” George said. “That is quite the accomplishment.”

 
Fri’il half whispered, “It’s – it’s beautiful.”

 
“Sadly it is also damned dangerous,” Master Galt said. Fri’il glanced at him in concern. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. Whatever that is, however the enchantment twisted its making that is not a sword for a stripling such as yourself.”

 
Se’and frowned, “It’s Farrel’s sword, Master… and it is Master Jeo’s commission, is it not?”

 
“Certainly, but – if it weren’t keyed to the lad, it would be perfect for the Lyai. But keyed to your servant’s hand as it is? It will corrupt him. It is no longer meant for an elfblooded hand, but a human one. Please forgive me, but to be blunt, you need a soul to wield such a thing.”

 
George frowned, “Is that so? I had hoped that Faeryn mages might not suffer that particular prejudice.”

 
Galt shook his head, “Prejudice?”

 
Glancing first at Se’and, then Fri’il, George announced, “The sword

is yours, my dear, uh, friend… Farrel’s sword recognizes the soul of

its wielder, even a true human.”

 
“Its name is ‘True,’” Fri’il replied with a wry smile.

 
Se’and put gold coins on the damaged dais table.

 
“Perfect, good day to you. I leave the matter of a Faeryn bane sword to you. I’ll inform the factor.”

 
“But…” Galt muttered as the merchant, his lady, and two servants left

with the sword without another word.

  Dustin couldn’t help but grin as the Faeryn mages stared at each other.

“Master, the Faeryn have been seen searching throughout the city.”

 
“For what?” he said, smiling, “another sword?”

 
“The Lyai lent them the four oath talismans. They’ve approached families who have key talismans.”

 
“They must think they know of a spell to undo our agent’s damage. But they’d need our five to accomplish it.” Archmage Constandine laughed, placing his hand on the warded box on his desk. Its lock fell open. “What?!” He flung open the box and stared at its empty contents.

 
His agent blanched, “Master.”

 
“GET OUT!”

 
The elfblood fled.

They returned to their rooms and Raven closed the door behind them.

 
“Level three rapport,” George muttered and the staff in his hands flared to brilliance. “Engage deflector.”

 
:Engaging camouflage mode.:

 
“Thank you,” George muttered, then sat down on the couch. “Okay, ladies, I think I need to know a lot more about Sire Erone and that, uh, lovely new sword. Fri’il, set it down there, please.”

 
Hesitantly, she did so.

 
George peeled the insulating hide wrapping from around the tip of

his computer staff and muttered, “Scan.”

  A blue light flared from the crystalline tip and played back and forth over the length of the sword. George closed his eyes and just stood there holding the staff.

 
Se’and and Fri’il glanced at each other. “You’ll need to spar with it,” Se’and half whispered, not wanting to disturb the human mage at his arcane work. “I just don’t fancy it cutting my sword in half.”

 
“You think it could?”

 
“It’s a bane sword, Fri’il… All of us protecting Vyss were warned not to cross swords with one,” Se’and said.

 
“How do you fight against one, then?”

 
Se’and smiled, “Well, that’s the trick of it. Throw enough daggers at its

bearer and you’re bound to kill the fellow. Understand?”

  “Uh, in other words a bane sword doesn’t make you invisible.”

 
“No sword does, Fri’il. It’s skill that matters; sometimes luck. So you’ll do the forms during your every free moment, not just early morning and evening as Cle’or told you to.”

 
“Yes, Lady Se’and.”

 
Se’and glanced at Raven. “I take it you’ve resistance to bane swords.”

 
Raven grinned.

 
“Of course you do. Make sure Fri’il gets really good with that sword.”

 
Nodding, Raven glanced at Fri’il, who paled and muttered, “Uh, Se’and…”

 
“Oh, think nothing of it.”

 
The blue light deactivated and George opened his eyes. “Well, that sword is now a variant of titanium. It’s extremely strong and has some very interesting properties. Fri’il, you won’t need to sharpen it, ever… So do be careful. Bal would be better at helping you regrow fingers than me.”

 
“I’ll, uh, keep that in mind,” she replied.

 
“Now, Fri’il, pick it up, I’ve a few questions for it.”

 
The young woman in the guise of a male servant frowned as she retrieved it. “You’ve got questions for it?”

 
“I did say it’s some interesting properties, didn’t I?  Well, it seems to have, well, a rudimentary mind of its own.”

 
Fri’il hefted the sword.

 
“Close your eyes, Fri’il,” George suggested. “Just let your mind wander.”

 
She frowned and closed her eyes, wondering if this is what George did when he went into rapport with staff.

 
The hilt grew warm beneath her fingertips. The sigil of House Erone glowed. Fri’il heard herself say as if from a distance, “True’s previous owner was sent on a suicide mission to save an elf lord.”

 
“Master Ebrim, I presume.”

 
She shook her head, her eyelids fluttering, “No, someone else. Someone named Llewellyn.”

 
:George,:
Staff whispered in his mind.
:Llewellyn is…:

 
“The name of the ruling family of the north western province of the same name,” George said.

 
Fri’il gripped the sword hilt. “She failed. She couldn’t reach him in time…

but… but she accomplished something, nonetheless.”

  Se’and asked, “What?”

 
The young woman swallowed and replied, “There was an old woman and a child… She saved them, and another elf lord who got in the way of the assassin.”

 
“Ebrim,” George suggested.

 
Fri’il paused, then said almost woodenly, “Yes, he who took me. I waited, and now we are together.”

 
“You will protect her?”

 
“I am stronger than before. I will not fail my wielder again. Together we are stronger than any enemy will suspect. This one has the heart of a lioness.”

 
George nodded, “I don’t doubt it.”

 
Se’and stared at them.

 
“Fri’il, you can open your eyes now.”

 
She blinked, “Milord?”

 
“Hell of sword you have there. Do be careful with it.”

 
“Uh, yes, milord.”

Keira found the innkeeper’s body in the alley, then went inside and checked the rooms the healer had recently occupied and clearly abandoned. She came down the stairs and saw a mother and child arrive. The child was coughing.

 
“The healer… Is the healer still here?” the mother asked, hopeful.

 
“No, he’s gone.”

 
“Where?”

 
She shook her head and walked outside. She stared as more of the sick and infirm trudged toward the inn.

 
“What have I done?” she muttered.