Mercenary wizard 3 a pro.., p.11
Mercenary Wizard 3: A Progression Fantasy Saga, page 11
His hand moved to the back of his neck, coming away slick with his own blood. Then he coughed, spraying the red slick before him in a fine mist.
An attack like that wouldn't kill him immediately, and I was already readying another blood-soaked barb. But to my surprise, he fell to his knees, and then toppled forward, face down in the road, sending a huge cloud of dust up around him.
I barely had time to register that it was an unusual occurrence before the giant who had gone wide around the waterwheel turned towards us.
True to form, he was too big to adjust swiftly, but I hadn't accounted for the stoutness of the trees. He slapped one hand around a towering oak and pivoted around it like it was a post built for the purpose. Then he charged us, too.
“Well, two down!” I shouted. But this one was moving faster than any of the others, and my blood-soaked mud barb was still little more than an egg shape.
With his speed, he'd be on us before we could do anything about it.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, one of the low huts' doors banged open and a boy of no more than twelve or thirteen ran out, a gleaming metal pick held tightly in his grip.
“For the king!” the boy shouted as he hefted the pickaxe to the side and swung it hard directly into the giant's onrushing shin.
Metal met flesh and sunk in. The force of the impact jerked the pick’s handle from the boy's grip and sent him spinning in a tumble, where he fell in a heap in the middle of the road.
The rushing giant roared in agony as he halted his advance and bent down to remove the pick from his shin. It didn't take long for him to pick out from the small wound. It was clear that it hadn't done the sort of damage that the boy had intended. Still, I saw a bit of white bone gleaming from where he had pulled the metal from his shin.
But I wasn't wasting time. The small pause in the action had let me form my next barb even better than the last.
And as the giant held the pickaxe up to the light to examine it, he found his vision oddly changed.
I hurled the barb through the air and it whizzed like an angry hornet as it slipped through the giant's right eye, smashed through the soft bone of his cranial cavity, and buried itself in his brain.
My barb didn't have enough strength to pop out the back of his skull, but it had done its job.
At once the lights in the giant's eyes went out, and he collapsed in a heap. One arm crashed hard on the boy's back, making a sickening crunch. I hoped he still lived.
“Three down!” I shouted, as I swiftly sought to reorient myself to the changing situation.
And yet all the effort that we'd undergone left me feeling trapped and drained. I was unsteady on my feet for a moment, as I realized how much effort it had taken to do what I had done instinctively.
I had no power over the soil itself, only the rocks. And yet I had instinctively transfigured dirt into stone. I'd had the help of blood, though, and I wondered whether that was a crucial element of this new development.
Weariness dragged at my limbs as I reached inside my robes and felt for a Cold Forest gem. I found one, and sucked the magic into me. My eyes had started to go bleary before the magic rejuvenated them, and what I suddenly saw amazed me.
The jack of so many elements and the master of none had proved herself to be quick-witted. The babbling brook leading down the mountainside into the water wheel house leapt its banks and turned into a raging torrent as Seraphine poured her magic into it.
A huge rush of water snapped tree limbs as it went, lifted rocks from their very foundations, and chittered with the sounds of the small animals that it had sucked up in itself. All this crashed into the water wheel full on, straining its mooring beyond its ability to cope.
A huge crack rent the village’s air as the wheel snapped at its axle and clattered downstream, along with the water. The first crunch of its axle snapping was swiftly joined by a second crack, as it bounced full onto the back of the next giant's head and stained the water with its blood.
Avril proved herself no less useful.
The giant in the smith's forge still screamed, and I saw flames licking up its leather armor.
The huge beast looked wildly around and saw the raging river, no doubt thinking that it was a salve for its wounds. It raced off, trailing hot flames behind it, and dove into the waters.
A loud crunch told me that an uprooted tree had turned its pleasant swim into an unfortunate dive, and as the water coursed over the cliff's edge, I caught a glimpse of its body spinning in tumbles.
The splash that followed was so loud I couldn't tell whether it was from the increased water volume or from the giant's body. Nor did I wait to find out.
With my legs rejuvenated enough at least to move swiftly, I raced to the boy's side and felt at the narrow part of his neck for a pulse.
At first, I was distracted by the sound of birds from the disturbed trees as they screeched into the air, and then I felt it—a small, irregular pulse.
I turned back to Avril and shouted, “Help me with the giant's arm!”
My wife rushed over, and then I muttered to the child, “Sorry kid, this is going to be mighty uncomfortable.”
I consoled myself with the fact that a kid brave enough to charge out and drive a pickaxe head into a lumbering giant would probably be brave enough to handle the pain that came in the aftermath. That was what I told myself, at least.
Chapter 12
Destruction
Holus, Mereley Capital City -- Collecting a Contract
Day 191 of the Crane’s Year
Several hours later, we stood in the grand ballroom of the Royal Castle.
The knight who had escorted us and showed us such discourtesy, Sir Varren, was now drawing a deep purple veil over an old man's eyes as he lay dead on the cold stone floor.
Nearby, a golden crown lay on its side. Loose jewels shimmered green, purple, and red on the floor around it, where they'd been knocked off in its tumble.
Seraphine's face was a confusion of emotions.
I put my hand on her shoulder and said, “I can't say that I know what it is to lose a father. I never knew mine. But I've lost many a friend along the way. It gets easier with time, even if you'd rather it didn't.”
Seraphine sniffled and nodded heavily.
The knight's deep green tunic was shadowed where the armor beneath was dented in several places, and it creaked as he rose to his feet solemnly. At my back, I felt Avril place her hand on my back and give me a small, comforting rub.
Seraphine remained stock still and glared down at the man with narrowed eyes. Finally, she gave the dead body a small kick.
A noise of surprise caught in the knight's throat, as though he wasn't sure whether he was able to chastise the princess.
“Your Highness,” he said softly. “I...”
Whatever he was about to say was cut off when Seraphine raised her nose haughtily and snorted.
“What a damned fool you are, Father,” she said. “Or were. All that money spent on finery, instead of protecting your people… I'd rather you not needed this comeuppance, Father, but it seems only fair and just that you should have it.” When she stepped back from the body, the knight looked relieved.
He bowed his head to Seraphine and said, “My Queen. His Royal Highness had seemed to hit old age swiftly. Never before in my life have I seen a man shrink so fast, even when his hair grays. It was as though ten years had passed in the span of one. Without a doubt, he missed his daughter.”
Though the knight's words were solemn and sure, I could tell that he was pleased Seraphine had stepped back from the royal body.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure he did,” Seraphine muttered dubiously. “But I am the queen now, aren't I? Tell me, where is the royal treasury?”
The knight swallowed hard and I could tell that he was loath to give out that information. There was little doubt that the treasury was greatly reduced from what it should have been. I suspected that he feared Seraphine's wrath when she discovered just how spend-happy her father had been on things that did not include the good of his people or of protection of his kingdom.
The new queen snapped her fingers and the knight's face jerked to hers. “I have been gone many long days, Varren,” she said. “And I do not doubt that the situation here is dire. I will not hold it against you. I merely intend to complete a contract.”
Her eyes traveled to me and I swiftly undid the cords binding the scroll to my arm. When I went to hand it to her, she smiled.
“If you think my father kept his own quill in any better condition than our knight here, you are sorely mistaken. I know the amount. You needn't worry about that. But to mark it completed, I think you'll have to go learn the scroll it’s written on. I won’t have an unpaid contract come back to haunt me. Not when I’ll have to offer so many more, just to get the kingdom back in order.”
Her eyes twinkled maliciously, and I had a sudden uncomfortable feeling. Learning a scroll was a painful experience at the best of times. The gods always intended for it to be that way, so that young wizards, or at least those new to the profession, would seek out training in one of the various academies instead.
This let the gods keep a better eye on their chosen powerful. But still, the gods weren't able to fully block us from learning things the hard way, as with so much else in magic. The payment one took for a shortcut was pain.
“You never told me whether you studied at the academies, Seraphine,” I said simply.
The sound of metal scraping told me that the knight had drawn his blade before I saw the flash, with a light streaming in through the broken windows, caught on it.
“You will address my lady as Your Majesty, sir, or you will know why she keeps us to protect her.” The man pointed his sword at me and fixed me with a deadly glare that I met with an easy smile.
The knight was far too familiar to me to be intimidating now. And anyway, I'd just slain three giants.
On the way up to the castle, I did the smart thing and armed myself. My hand was in my robe's hidden pocket in an instant, and I felt the reassuring hardness of rock meet my touch.
To my surprise, Seraphine stepped between us, turned to the knight, raised her hand, and slapped him hard across the face. The strike was so unexpected that the knight reeled.
“Your—Your Majesty,” he sputtered, as he turned to face Seraphine's glare.
“I see you're a slow learner as well,” she said with a head raise. “Go, get out of my sight. See to the clearing crews and the workmen. I will not have the giants’ attack destroy my people's spirit, and you will oversee the rebuilding of their homes and workplaces. Go, now.”
The knight sputtered but did as he was bid. His steel-clad feet clacked hard on the throne room's stone flagstones as he left the castle and headed down into the town.
Seraphine turned to me with a smile. “In answer to your question, do you really think that the princess of a kingdom would be allowed to suffer the pain of scroll learning?” She scoffed. “Even a princess of this kingdom is not afforded such easy shortcuts. Though I do admit, the prospect of enduring a few days' pain is preferable to a few months' boredom. Come on, I'll show you to our scrollmage. Avril here can collect your payment once I figure out where my dearly-departed father kept his probably meager funds.”
With that, the new queen strode out of the throne room. I followed close at her heels, eager to see what new spell this scroll contained. Soon, we left the royal castle entirely and made our way into the royal city instead.
The king's own city was evidently much like the small town that had sprung up around the gondola station. Like that town, the streets here were paved with cobbles, not left as barren dirt tracks as they were in the village.
The buildings were made of good, hard-seeming river stone, and had quaint, picturesque second stories that extended over the first, providing some shade to the people below.
The early afternoon sun shone hot and hard down upon us, and I was thankful to be able to walk beneath these overhangs.
Still, the signs of struggle were everywhere. It wasn’t just the village that had been attacked by giants. Seemingly every town in the kingdom had suffered such a fate.
The bodies of knights in gleaming armor lay with breastplates caved in or helmets crushed, propped against some of the low walls like they were only taking naps. Shards of glass skittered underfoot as we walked, evidence of the fight. And down this alley or that one, a stone wall was cracked to reveal a large bare foot sticking out of it.
I was sorry to see the damage; not that I cared overly much for the rich citizens who dwelt in the main town, but more because of the way Avril's hands clenched around my wrist when we came to the market square.
My wife gasped in surprised delight at the sight of the quaint circular fountain in the center of the market, and at the various shops that lined the square. I chuckled at the thought that the market square was actually circular in shape, just before Avril gasped and pointed up a road leading higher into the mountain’s forest.
Somewhere up that cobbled street, I saw a waterfall leaping down a huge rock edifice. Set just beside the waterfall was a large stone house, undamaged from the fighting. The sunlight gleamed on its many glass windows; even from this distance, the glare was nearly blinding. I had to squint to keep it from burning holes into my retinas.
“Now that's a house,” Avril sighed pleasantly, slipping her fingers between my own.
Seraphine absentmindedly glanced where she pointed and chuckled. “My father's royal getaway,” she said, with a wave of her hand. “Not where we're going right now. But are you in the market?”
I nodded, stroking my chin and feeling the light beard that had grown up there after so long without a razor. “Something like that,” I said. “Is it for sale?”
The princess laughed lightly and said, “It all depends on the state of the royal coffers, I suppose.” When I turned to her, I saw her face darken. “When my father wasn't at court, we would spend a good deal of time there. Just me, him, and the servants, of course. That was back before he found those damned books. Back before…” She shook her head and turned away to head down a deeply-shaded side street. “Come on. The scrollmage is down this way. Can't have all that blood upsetting the market browsers.” She laughed at her own joke, and we followed her.
The shadowed market street she led us down was nearly as different from the wide, airy square as the Mountain biome was from the Ocean one.
Suddenly, the wide, easily-walkable streets narrowed to something much closer to alleyways. The stone walls on my right and left were covered in green, slimy moss and algae, and the air smelled rank and stale.
There was probably enough space for someone coming the other way to pass me, but we would have to both turn aside if we wanted to not bump shoulders. Arguments had been started over less. And there was something about the stale, damp air that prickled a sense of warning on my arms.
On our left, we passed by an old bookshop. A single candle burned in the window, illuminating titles that I could not read, written in a language I couldn't discern.
Many of the letters appeared to be written in a dark red ink that I hadn't come across before.
Avril, however, jumped excitedly at the sight of them.
Pressing her face to the glass, she exclaimed, “I haven't seen a history of Arden Evermore since I was a girl. And yet here's a copy of one, out in a distant biome. The title looks to be done in a different ink, though. Must have been another scribe who translated it. Do you know how it came to be here, Seraphine?”
Our former ward stopped in her tracks and turned to face us, giving the glass window display full of strange old books an uneasy gaze.
“The owner came with the scrollmage,” she said with narrowed eyes. “I pleaded and pleaded with Father to send him away, but he wouldn't leave without his companion. Scrollmages might be good to keep off the main track, but they're useful for a city. You get the most daring kinds of wizards coming around for their services when you've got one. And daring wizards can be useful.”
I nodded at that and gestured to the book's spine. “What's going on with that ink, though?” I asked. “It looks almost like blood. Hardly an appropriate color for a daring adventure book, wouldn't you say?”
Now Seraphine's face lightened a bit, and a smile creased her lips. “Many believe wizard blood to have special powers,” she explained. “I'm not one of them. I've seen enough of my own blood to know that it's just the same as anyone else's. But there's a reason the scrollmage and the bookseller came as a matched pair. You need a lot of blood if you're going to sell your mundane books to unsuspecting rubes. Now, come on. He's just next door.”
Avril gave me a dark look as we went one shop over. To an inexperienced eye, the many white sheets, rags, and towels might have given the impression that this was a store that dealt with cleaning products.
I'd seen enough scrollmages to know better.
A bell above the door clanked loudly as we entered it, and a bushy-haired man popped his head from behind a desk, his snores stopping suddenly.
“What?” the man exclaimed. “Damned giants.”
The scrollmage went from sleeping to sitting in the space of a blink, and from sitting to examining us in the space of two. He leaned forward over the desk and fixed me with a gaze.
“You're a tall one,” he said, barking out a laugh. “But you are no giant. Come in and let me know what I can do for you. I'll warn you now, my prices are steep. You look like a man who knows what he's about, though. Robes and all that.” A smile crept up his face. “Wizards, mages, and... wait. Princess Seraphine?”
The man shoved his chair roughly back from his desk. As his eyes fell upon the new queen, he bowed fervently several times, sputtering all the while. Seraphine strode towards him, passing the piles of white, clean towels, sheets, and the like, until she stood across the desk from him and offered him her hand to kiss.
As though he couldn't move swiftly enough, the scrollmage clasped her fingers in his own and planted a wet, sloppy kiss upon her digits before releasing her hand. When he had, Seraphine turned aside and gestured to Avril and me.
An attack like that wouldn't kill him immediately, and I was already readying another blood-soaked barb. But to my surprise, he fell to his knees, and then toppled forward, face down in the road, sending a huge cloud of dust up around him.
I barely had time to register that it was an unusual occurrence before the giant who had gone wide around the waterwheel turned towards us.
True to form, he was too big to adjust swiftly, but I hadn't accounted for the stoutness of the trees. He slapped one hand around a towering oak and pivoted around it like it was a post built for the purpose. Then he charged us, too.
“Well, two down!” I shouted. But this one was moving faster than any of the others, and my blood-soaked mud barb was still little more than an egg shape.
With his speed, he'd be on us before we could do anything about it.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, one of the low huts' doors banged open and a boy of no more than twelve or thirteen ran out, a gleaming metal pick held tightly in his grip.
“For the king!” the boy shouted as he hefted the pickaxe to the side and swung it hard directly into the giant's onrushing shin.
Metal met flesh and sunk in. The force of the impact jerked the pick’s handle from the boy's grip and sent him spinning in a tumble, where he fell in a heap in the middle of the road.
The rushing giant roared in agony as he halted his advance and bent down to remove the pick from his shin. It didn't take long for him to pick out from the small wound. It was clear that it hadn't done the sort of damage that the boy had intended. Still, I saw a bit of white bone gleaming from where he had pulled the metal from his shin.
But I wasn't wasting time. The small pause in the action had let me form my next barb even better than the last.
And as the giant held the pickaxe up to the light to examine it, he found his vision oddly changed.
I hurled the barb through the air and it whizzed like an angry hornet as it slipped through the giant's right eye, smashed through the soft bone of his cranial cavity, and buried itself in his brain.
My barb didn't have enough strength to pop out the back of his skull, but it had done its job.
At once the lights in the giant's eyes went out, and he collapsed in a heap. One arm crashed hard on the boy's back, making a sickening crunch. I hoped he still lived.
“Three down!” I shouted, as I swiftly sought to reorient myself to the changing situation.
And yet all the effort that we'd undergone left me feeling trapped and drained. I was unsteady on my feet for a moment, as I realized how much effort it had taken to do what I had done instinctively.
I had no power over the soil itself, only the rocks. And yet I had instinctively transfigured dirt into stone. I'd had the help of blood, though, and I wondered whether that was a crucial element of this new development.
Weariness dragged at my limbs as I reached inside my robes and felt for a Cold Forest gem. I found one, and sucked the magic into me. My eyes had started to go bleary before the magic rejuvenated them, and what I suddenly saw amazed me.
The jack of so many elements and the master of none had proved herself to be quick-witted. The babbling brook leading down the mountainside into the water wheel house leapt its banks and turned into a raging torrent as Seraphine poured her magic into it.
A huge rush of water snapped tree limbs as it went, lifted rocks from their very foundations, and chittered with the sounds of the small animals that it had sucked up in itself. All this crashed into the water wheel full on, straining its mooring beyond its ability to cope.
A huge crack rent the village’s air as the wheel snapped at its axle and clattered downstream, along with the water. The first crunch of its axle snapping was swiftly joined by a second crack, as it bounced full onto the back of the next giant's head and stained the water with its blood.
Avril proved herself no less useful.
The giant in the smith's forge still screamed, and I saw flames licking up its leather armor.
The huge beast looked wildly around and saw the raging river, no doubt thinking that it was a salve for its wounds. It raced off, trailing hot flames behind it, and dove into the waters.
A loud crunch told me that an uprooted tree had turned its pleasant swim into an unfortunate dive, and as the water coursed over the cliff's edge, I caught a glimpse of its body spinning in tumbles.
The splash that followed was so loud I couldn't tell whether it was from the increased water volume or from the giant's body. Nor did I wait to find out.
With my legs rejuvenated enough at least to move swiftly, I raced to the boy's side and felt at the narrow part of his neck for a pulse.
At first, I was distracted by the sound of birds from the disturbed trees as they screeched into the air, and then I felt it—a small, irregular pulse.
I turned back to Avril and shouted, “Help me with the giant's arm!”
My wife rushed over, and then I muttered to the child, “Sorry kid, this is going to be mighty uncomfortable.”
I consoled myself with the fact that a kid brave enough to charge out and drive a pickaxe head into a lumbering giant would probably be brave enough to handle the pain that came in the aftermath. That was what I told myself, at least.
Chapter 12
Destruction
Holus, Mereley Capital City -- Collecting a Contract
Day 191 of the Crane’s Year
Several hours later, we stood in the grand ballroom of the Royal Castle.
The knight who had escorted us and showed us such discourtesy, Sir Varren, was now drawing a deep purple veil over an old man's eyes as he lay dead on the cold stone floor.
Nearby, a golden crown lay on its side. Loose jewels shimmered green, purple, and red on the floor around it, where they'd been knocked off in its tumble.
Seraphine's face was a confusion of emotions.
I put my hand on her shoulder and said, “I can't say that I know what it is to lose a father. I never knew mine. But I've lost many a friend along the way. It gets easier with time, even if you'd rather it didn't.”
Seraphine sniffled and nodded heavily.
The knight's deep green tunic was shadowed where the armor beneath was dented in several places, and it creaked as he rose to his feet solemnly. At my back, I felt Avril place her hand on my back and give me a small, comforting rub.
Seraphine remained stock still and glared down at the man with narrowed eyes. Finally, she gave the dead body a small kick.
A noise of surprise caught in the knight's throat, as though he wasn't sure whether he was able to chastise the princess.
“Your Highness,” he said softly. “I...”
Whatever he was about to say was cut off when Seraphine raised her nose haughtily and snorted.
“What a damned fool you are, Father,” she said. “Or were. All that money spent on finery, instead of protecting your people… I'd rather you not needed this comeuppance, Father, but it seems only fair and just that you should have it.” When she stepped back from the body, the knight looked relieved.
He bowed his head to Seraphine and said, “My Queen. His Royal Highness had seemed to hit old age swiftly. Never before in my life have I seen a man shrink so fast, even when his hair grays. It was as though ten years had passed in the span of one. Without a doubt, he missed his daughter.”
Though the knight's words were solemn and sure, I could tell that he was pleased Seraphine had stepped back from the royal body.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure he did,” Seraphine muttered dubiously. “But I am the queen now, aren't I? Tell me, where is the royal treasury?”
The knight swallowed hard and I could tell that he was loath to give out that information. There was little doubt that the treasury was greatly reduced from what it should have been. I suspected that he feared Seraphine's wrath when she discovered just how spend-happy her father had been on things that did not include the good of his people or of protection of his kingdom.
The new queen snapped her fingers and the knight's face jerked to hers. “I have been gone many long days, Varren,” she said. “And I do not doubt that the situation here is dire. I will not hold it against you. I merely intend to complete a contract.”
Her eyes traveled to me and I swiftly undid the cords binding the scroll to my arm. When I went to hand it to her, she smiled.
“If you think my father kept his own quill in any better condition than our knight here, you are sorely mistaken. I know the amount. You needn't worry about that. But to mark it completed, I think you'll have to go learn the scroll it’s written on. I won’t have an unpaid contract come back to haunt me. Not when I’ll have to offer so many more, just to get the kingdom back in order.”
Her eyes twinkled maliciously, and I had a sudden uncomfortable feeling. Learning a scroll was a painful experience at the best of times. The gods always intended for it to be that way, so that young wizards, or at least those new to the profession, would seek out training in one of the various academies instead.
This let the gods keep a better eye on their chosen powerful. But still, the gods weren't able to fully block us from learning things the hard way, as with so much else in magic. The payment one took for a shortcut was pain.
“You never told me whether you studied at the academies, Seraphine,” I said simply.
The sound of metal scraping told me that the knight had drawn his blade before I saw the flash, with a light streaming in through the broken windows, caught on it.
“You will address my lady as Your Majesty, sir, or you will know why she keeps us to protect her.” The man pointed his sword at me and fixed me with a deadly glare that I met with an easy smile.
The knight was far too familiar to me to be intimidating now. And anyway, I'd just slain three giants.
On the way up to the castle, I did the smart thing and armed myself. My hand was in my robe's hidden pocket in an instant, and I felt the reassuring hardness of rock meet my touch.
To my surprise, Seraphine stepped between us, turned to the knight, raised her hand, and slapped him hard across the face. The strike was so unexpected that the knight reeled.
“Your—Your Majesty,” he sputtered, as he turned to face Seraphine's glare.
“I see you're a slow learner as well,” she said with a head raise. “Go, get out of my sight. See to the clearing crews and the workmen. I will not have the giants’ attack destroy my people's spirit, and you will oversee the rebuilding of their homes and workplaces. Go, now.”
The knight sputtered but did as he was bid. His steel-clad feet clacked hard on the throne room's stone flagstones as he left the castle and headed down into the town.
Seraphine turned to me with a smile. “In answer to your question, do you really think that the princess of a kingdom would be allowed to suffer the pain of scroll learning?” She scoffed. “Even a princess of this kingdom is not afforded such easy shortcuts. Though I do admit, the prospect of enduring a few days' pain is preferable to a few months' boredom. Come on, I'll show you to our scrollmage. Avril here can collect your payment once I figure out where my dearly-departed father kept his probably meager funds.”
With that, the new queen strode out of the throne room. I followed close at her heels, eager to see what new spell this scroll contained. Soon, we left the royal castle entirely and made our way into the royal city instead.
The king's own city was evidently much like the small town that had sprung up around the gondola station. Like that town, the streets here were paved with cobbles, not left as barren dirt tracks as they were in the village.
The buildings were made of good, hard-seeming river stone, and had quaint, picturesque second stories that extended over the first, providing some shade to the people below.
The early afternoon sun shone hot and hard down upon us, and I was thankful to be able to walk beneath these overhangs.
Still, the signs of struggle were everywhere. It wasn’t just the village that had been attacked by giants. Seemingly every town in the kingdom had suffered such a fate.
The bodies of knights in gleaming armor lay with breastplates caved in or helmets crushed, propped against some of the low walls like they were only taking naps. Shards of glass skittered underfoot as we walked, evidence of the fight. And down this alley or that one, a stone wall was cracked to reveal a large bare foot sticking out of it.
I was sorry to see the damage; not that I cared overly much for the rich citizens who dwelt in the main town, but more because of the way Avril's hands clenched around my wrist when we came to the market square.
My wife gasped in surprised delight at the sight of the quaint circular fountain in the center of the market, and at the various shops that lined the square. I chuckled at the thought that the market square was actually circular in shape, just before Avril gasped and pointed up a road leading higher into the mountain’s forest.
Somewhere up that cobbled street, I saw a waterfall leaping down a huge rock edifice. Set just beside the waterfall was a large stone house, undamaged from the fighting. The sunlight gleamed on its many glass windows; even from this distance, the glare was nearly blinding. I had to squint to keep it from burning holes into my retinas.
“Now that's a house,” Avril sighed pleasantly, slipping her fingers between my own.
Seraphine absentmindedly glanced where she pointed and chuckled. “My father's royal getaway,” she said, with a wave of her hand. “Not where we're going right now. But are you in the market?”
I nodded, stroking my chin and feeling the light beard that had grown up there after so long without a razor. “Something like that,” I said. “Is it for sale?”
The princess laughed lightly and said, “It all depends on the state of the royal coffers, I suppose.” When I turned to her, I saw her face darken. “When my father wasn't at court, we would spend a good deal of time there. Just me, him, and the servants, of course. That was back before he found those damned books. Back before…” She shook her head and turned away to head down a deeply-shaded side street. “Come on. The scrollmage is down this way. Can't have all that blood upsetting the market browsers.” She laughed at her own joke, and we followed her.
The shadowed market street she led us down was nearly as different from the wide, airy square as the Mountain biome was from the Ocean one.
Suddenly, the wide, easily-walkable streets narrowed to something much closer to alleyways. The stone walls on my right and left were covered in green, slimy moss and algae, and the air smelled rank and stale.
There was probably enough space for someone coming the other way to pass me, but we would have to both turn aside if we wanted to not bump shoulders. Arguments had been started over less. And there was something about the stale, damp air that prickled a sense of warning on my arms.
On our left, we passed by an old bookshop. A single candle burned in the window, illuminating titles that I could not read, written in a language I couldn't discern.
Many of the letters appeared to be written in a dark red ink that I hadn't come across before.
Avril, however, jumped excitedly at the sight of them.
Pressing her face to the glass, she exclaimed, “I haven't seen a history of Arden Evermore since I was a girl. And yet here's a copy of one, out in a distant biome. The title looks to be done in a different ink, though. Must have been another scribe who translated it. Do you know how it came to be here, Seraphine?”
Our former ward stopped in her tracks and turned to face us, giving the glass window display full of strange old books an uneasy gaze.
“The owner came with the scrollmage,” she said with narrowed eyes. “I pleaded and pleaded with Father to send him away, but he wouldn't leave without his companion. Scrollmages might be good to keep off the main track, but they're useful for a city. You get the most daring kinds of wizards coming around for their services when you've got one. And daring wizards can be useful.”
I nodded at that and gestured to the book's spine. “What's going on with that ink, though?” I asked. “It looks almost like blood. Hardly an appropriate color for a daring adventure book, wouldn't you say?”
Now Seraphine's face lightened a bit, and a smile creased her lips. “Many believe wizard blood to have special powers,” she explained. “I'm not one of them. I've seen enough of my own blood to know that it's just the same as anyone else's. But there's a reason the scrollmage and the bookseller came as a matched pair. You need a lot of blood if you're going to sell your mundane books to unsuspecting rubes. Now, come on. He's just next door.”
Avril gave me a dark look as we went one shop over. To an inexperienced eye, the many white sheets, rags, and towels might have given the impression that this was a store that dealt with cleaning products.
I'd seen enough scrollmages to know better.
A bell above the door clanked loudly as we entered it, and a bushy-haired man popped his head from behind a desk, his snores stopping suddenly.
“What?” the man exclaimed. “Damned giants.”
The scrollmage went from sleeping to sitting in the space of a blink, and from sitting to examining us in the space of two. He leaned forward over the desk and fixed me with a gaze.
“You're a tall one,” he said, barking out a laugh. “But you are no giant. Come in and let me know what I can do for you. I'll warn you now, my prices are steep. You look like a man who knows what he's about, though. Robes and all that.” A smile crept up his face. “Wizards, mages, and... wait. Princess Seraphine?”
The man shoved his chair roughly back from his desk. As his eyes fell upon the new queen, he bowed fervently several times, sputtering all the while. Seraphine strode towards him, passing the piles of white, clean towels, sheets, and the like, until she stood across the desk from him and offered him her hand to kiss.
As though he couldn't move swiftly enough, the scrollmage clasped her fingers in his own and planted a wet, sloppy kiss upon her digits before releasing her hand. When he had, Seraphine turned aside and gestured to Avril and me.
