The Twilight City Page 10

  Malek shifted uncomfortably, trying to wrap his mind around all the Seer had spoken of. Somehow, he felt more confused than enlightened.

  The Seer smiled gently in understanding. “Trust your instincts and your heart, and you may yet find your way safely down the shadowy path. Let me leave you with one last warning, lad: you must seek to control your powers, especially while here in Nexus. Dark forces are at work. The city is on the verge of falling, and you do not want to nudge it over the edge. The Pale Lord is a harsh, jealous ruler who won’t tolerate uncontrolled magic, especially any to rival his own in power. Beware.”

  ***

  “Master, I do not think we should write Malek off so easily,” Endira argued.

  The young man had departed a short time before, deep in his thoughts.

  “My people have a saying: ‘The garden will die if left untended. It takes nurturing and support to thrive.’ That’s what we should be doing—helping and providing guidance for Malek.”

  “You have a gentle heart, young one. Perhaps your well-meaning influence is just what the boy needs. But I warn you, he can destroy us all.”

  Endira sat in silence, contemplating all that had been said. “Perhaps I can aid him on his quest, and once he is on his way, then it is my hope we will all be safe.”

  “I hope you are right, child. You just don’t realize the enormity of sacrifice that will be required,” the Seer said sadly. He patted Endira’s hand. “His fate has been set since the birth of Nexus. The schemes of the gods span long millennia. He is alone and in need of friends to guide him. If you are willing to help him, then do so with my blessing. Just take care that you do not lose your own way during the journey.”

  Endira let out a slow breath and nodded with conviction. “I accept this task and will see to it at once.”

  “Patience, lass. Just observe him for now, but don’t interfere yet. When he needs your aid, you will know and be there.” The Seer rose from his chair, and a shudder ran through his frail form. “I need to rest now. Will you put on a kettle of hot tea? I fear that I am catching cold.”

  Endira quickly moved to support the old man and help him to his chambers. The air in the room suddenly seemed quite chilly.

  Ill tidings, she thought.

  Chapter 12

  Nera wiped the sweat off her brow before putting her leather jerkin back on. She bade Gurn a good evening and stepped outside the foundry, relishing the fresher air. Once the heavy door closed behind her, muffling the sounds of the foundry a bit, she could hear the clang of hammers on steel ringing out from the smithies below in the Industrial District.

  Her back was sore, but she was in good spirits, having avoided the lash for nearly a week straight. Although she didn’t want to admit it to herself, she was looking forward to meeting Malek.

  “Just so he pays me my clink,” she said aloud. “Once I squeeze that ripe fruit dry, then I’m that much closer to getting my sentence reduced.” She whistled quietly as she lengthened her stride and joined the crowds crossing the bridge over the Molten Canal. The smell of roasting meat from a vendor’s food cart made her stomach rumble.

  Good thing I’m meeting that green fool for dinner. A lass can’t be expected to do all this work on an empty stomach even if his clink is good.

  A familiar figure darted through the crowd just off to her left.

  “Oi, Osric!” she called.

  The boy turned, looking startled, but his face lit up for a moment when he saw her. “Hullo, Nera.” Despite his smile, nervousness was as plain in the boy’s body language as pain would have been had he been smacked on the arse with a switch.

  Nera cuffed him on the shoulder as he fell in beside her. “What’s with the gloomy face, kid?”

  Osric shrugged. “Just have a uh… message to deliver. I’d best not keep them waiting.” His eyes darted over the crowd.

  She wondered why he was lying but didn’t press the issue. “Well, don’t let me keep you from such important tasks, luv.”

  Osric smiled in gratitude. “Aye. See you later, then.” He disappeared into the crowd like a spooked rabbit.

  Nera glanced at the nearest chroniker mast. She was a few minutes early, which didn’t suit her. After all, I have better things to do than be at Malek’s beck and call. As she entered the Merchant District, she paused to peruse a couple merchant stalls to drag out the time a bit longer.

  A gaunt Torumel merchant flapped his feathered arms at her as he hopped forward, having seen her pause at a box of charms on his counter. His head bobbed and darted in the peculiar mannerism all members of that avian race seemed to have.

  “Looking for a particular charm?” he asked, his voice a raspy squawk. “I’ve got magic trinkets from all over Torum here.” His yellow beak clacked together, clipping off his words sharply. The merchant’s sharp, beady eyes watched her warily for any signs of pilfering.

  Nera gave him a smile. “Not unless you can do something about getting rid of these.” She gestured at her horns.

  The merchant tilted his head at her and took a hop closer. “Aye, verily. This stone here can provide you with an illusion of whatever you wish to be.” He pointed a yellow clawed finger at a pale-blue stone with a leather band tied to it.

  “Illusion, eh? I was looking for a more… permanent fix.” Nera sighed. “I can already muster up an illusion if need be.”

  The birdman shrugged, a strange-looking mannerism on the Torumel. “Apologies, miss, but I haven’t got anything like that. Try Nihad’s or one of the other magic emporiums.”

  “Aye, perhaps I might.” She turned and walked off. “Perhaps someday I can afford a magical fix if one exists. That’s if I ever get out of this damn sentence and somehow manage to amass a small fortune.” She briefly wondered why the thought of her appearance had crossed her mind, but then she pictured Malek’s shocked reaction to her features at the Zombie when they’d first met. That first impression is the killer.

  She turned in the direction of the tavern she had told the mage to meet her at. The crowd parted briefly, and she caught sight of a boy she thought was Osric. He was speaking to a figure in a sand-colored cloak. The scene made her think of the demonic figure who had confronted her several days before and tried to bribe her with gems to deliver a vial to the foundry.

  “Out of the way, fiend!” Somebody jostled her rudely aside.

  A pair of drunk humans laughed, and one gave her an obscene gesture. She retaliated with a stream of curses while automatically checking to make sure she hadn’t been pickpocketed.

  Nera moved away from them, looking again for Osric, but she had lost him in the crowd. Perhaps it hadn’t been him, after all. As it was, she realized she was running late to meet Malek and forgot about the brief glimpse of the boy.

  ***

  “Tell me what you know about these Magehunters.” Malek regarded his companion across the oak table at a tavern in the Merchant District. After his foretelling earlier, his mind was like a hive of angry bees—thoughts flitted this way and that, faster than he could snatch them and put them into any semblance of order.

  After hearing the Seer’s unnerving words, Malek had wandered Nexus for a time, lost in his thoughts. Surprised at how quickly the day had passed, he had gone to meet Nera at a tavern near the High Market for dinner.

  Nera took a sip of her ale and considered the question. She looked weary after the long day and smelled faintly of smoke. “Well, luv, the Lord of Nexus maintains a very tight grip on unsanctioned magic in his city. All resident mages are required to register with the Special Judiciary. Visiting mages are required to obtain temporary documents upon entry to Nexus. I reckon you got tagged with those?”

  Malek nodded. “No class-three or higher magic authorized under any circumstance. In the event spells of that level are required for self-defense, and only self-defense, it must be reported immediately after to the Nexus Watch, I believe. There was something in there about reporting unsanctioned use of magic, or you could be found liable
for negligence.”

  “Aye, you got it. If you get caught breaking the restrictions, the Magehunters will be sent after you. They are a specially trained group of warriors and mages that hunt their own.” Nera slurped a large spoonful of the greasy stew. “You don’t want to cross them, mageling.”

  Malek picked at his bowl of salty broth as he considered the information. The vegetables were rubbery, and he didn’t want to know what the source of the meat was. The bread was as hard as the sole of a shoe, but when softened up in the gravy, it tasted tolerable. The wine seemed a bit watered down but palatable.

  “What’s this Special Judiciary you mentioned?” he asked.

  Nera gestured with her spoon, spattering drops of gravy on the table. “Ah, that’s just the fancy bureaucratic name for the faction that runs the city’s protective functions. First, you have the Nexus Watch, then you got the Magehunters and retrieval officers for the city and I suppose magistrates and ink fingers and whatnot.” She shrugged and swigged some more ale.

  “Retrieval officers?”

  “Bounty hunters. They are worse than the criminals they go after, a lot of times. They’re authorized to plane hop in order to bring back their quarry.” Nera pointed at her collar, a metal-and-leather construction that held strong magic. “They got special collars, with special knobs or something on them that allow them to plane hop. Don’t ask me how all that magic stuff works.” She looked around nervously and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Thing about those whoresons is they don’t care if they bring back a living soul or a corpse. Just numbers in a ledger is what they care about. Not sure if you’d be better off with them or the Magehunters after you… at least the Magehunters might give you a chance to make a case for yourself in front of a magistrate. Those bloody retrieval officers are crazy bastards that would just as soon kill you and drag your corpse back.”

  “What about the ruler of Nexus? This Pale Lord—”

  “Shhhh… speak not his name,” Nera warned, eyes wide. “Many claim just invoking his name draws his unwanted eye.” She hurriedly took another gulp of ale, followed by a nervous glance around the tavern before continuing in an even lower voice. “It is said he sits upon a great skeletal throne fashioned from the bones of some infernal creature and sleeps in a state of torpor as time passes, months or even years at a time. But his mind wanders—he senses and sees all. If you draw his ire, he can banish you to the Abyss or anywhere of his choosing, really. That is if he doesn’t merely destroy you outright with his powerful sorcery. And then there are his Warders…” She trailed off, obviously unnerved.

  Good thing I have my ring, then. Malek adjusted the heavy silver band on his finger. The ring provided some manner of magical protection, including invisibility to all forms of magical scrying. My magic would draw this Pale Lord’s attention even if he can’t see me directly. His underlings will investigate, and eventually they will find me. More reason to keep as low a profile as possible.

  Malek forced a smile to try to put Nera at ease. “Best to not draw the wrong type of attention, then. Shall we go visit the administration building?” Malek pushed his half-finished stew aside and drank the rest of his wine.

  “As my lord wishes,” Nera replied sarcastically. Evidently not a picky eater, Nera had emptied her bowl of stew. She knocked back the last of her ale, and they left the tavern.

  ***

  “That will be twenty silver for the processing fee.” The clerk squinted at Malek expectantly.

  “Very well.” Malek dug into his diminishing coin purse and pulled out the required payment. Before dropping the coin in the clerk’s pale, bony hand, he looked him hard in the eye. “And when will I receive an answer to my inquiry?”

  The clerk sighed as if greatly put upon by the question. “You should have an answer to your query in approximately thirty days. In the unlikely event you don’t hear anything regarding your inquiry after thirty-five days, feel free to return and request another appointment.”

  These bureaucrats are bigger thieves than those cutpurses in the markets, Malek thought in disgust. “Thirty days? But my master was abducted by your Magehunters a month ago, already! He might not have thirty more days.”

  “The Special Judiciary is occupied with matters of great consequence,” the clerk answered, condescension dripping from his tone. “It takes time to sort through the backlog of every scofflaw and petty lawbreaker taken in.”

  “Never mind. I’ll continue looking into it on my own.” Malek pocketed the coins and walked out in disgust. His hand was on the door handle when the clerk’s voice caused him to pause.

  “Suit yourself. Just keep in mind that interfering with matters of the Special Judiciary can result in serious punitive measures, including imprisonment and possible execution.” The clerk graced him with a smug smile and turned back to his ledger.

  Malek left the dusty office, considering himself fortunate to have not throttled the bastard. Outside in the hallway, Nera sat on a wooden bench, apparently engaged in some type of staring contest with one of the guards.

  She hopped to her feet and fell in beside Malek. “Didn’t go as well as you had planned?” She shot a venomous glance over her shoulder at the guard before they exited to the courtyard.

  Malek briefly wondered what he had missed. The rogue never seemed to pass up a chance to get into a spat with someone, he noticed. “No, it didn’t. The crooked thief wanted me to pay twenty silver, and if I hadn’t heard anything after thirty-five days, I’d have to return.”

  Nera slapped him on the back. “Hah! Those arseholes make us thieves look quite lawful by compare. Told you there’d be no answers from them.”

  The two of them passed through the sparsely populated courtyard of the town hall. Most people seemed to be heading out as the day grew late, but a few still were entering, rushing to appointments.

  “I’m worried about my master. I don’t believe he has thirty days… What am I going to do now?”

  Nera eyed him appraisingly, a gleam in her rust-colored eyes. “Well… against my better judgement, I’d suggest a bit of thievery might be in order—later tonight, after respectable folk are either in bed or deep in their cups. That is gonna cost ya more, of course, since special assistance like this is above and beyond what a city guide would be expected to provide.”

  “Oh great, this coming from the girl that’s serving a sentence for thievery? What in the Abyss am I getting myself into?” Malek just shook his head.

  Nera bumped him with her hip and gave him a wink. “Don’t worry, luv. We’ll just try to get a peek inside the prison and see what’s going on inside. Stick with me, and I’ll show you how it’s done.”

  Oh great, what could possibly go wrong?

  Chapter 13

  The Nexus prison was an imposing fortress surrounded by a twenty-foot-high wall tipped with spikes. A pair of stony-faced guards stood outside the main gate, armed with sword and crossbow.

  Sweat ran down Malek’s back as he and Nera approached the main gate of the prison. This is a terrible idea. Their destination, the Magehunters’ section, was enclosed within an inner ring and separated from the regular cell blocks used by the Nexus Watch.

  Nera swaggered along at his side as if she were the warden. After disappearing for a couple hours to visit some of her unsavory guild contacts, Nera had reappeared later with a prison map and a pair of guard uniforms. She also wore some type of glamour that obscured her features. She looked like a human version of herself: gone were the horns and collar. Her hair and eyes were a honey brown and her skin paler, with less of the bronze tone.

  Malek thought she looked quite attractive in her new guise. They had quickly changed into the uniforms behind some thorny hedges a few blocks away and now were marching up to the main gates.

  Guess it’s a better idea than trying to scale the walls and sneak our way inside. Malek adjusted the heavy helm and the sword hanging at his waist. The mail was uncomfortable, chafing his shoulders and hips. The guards were
eyeing them curiously from ten paces away.

  “Let me do the talking,” Nera hissed as they approached. She looked comfortable in the mail and livery, as if she really were a member of the Watch.

  “Evening, lads,” she called. “Anything happening tonight?”

  The pair looked at each other. “Same old shite,” the younger guard replied. “Barristal’s in a right pisser of a mood—don’t cross him.”

  “When’s that old crusty bastard not in a mood?” Nera replied smoothly. “His wife must’ve told him his cock is too small again. Or maybe it was his mistress this time.”

  The guards chuckled.

  “Aye, could be,” the younger man replied.

  Malek noticed how the guard looked at Nera. Her outfit fit as if tailored just for her, managing to show some curves despite the tabard and mail.

  “You two new to this district?” the older guard asked. He had the hard look of a veteran and eyed them dubiously.

  “Aye, just transferred over from the Merchant District. Hopefully, we get to see some real action for a change besides bickering merchants and noblewomen with sticks up their arses.” Nera favored them with a winning smile.