Chapter 25: Sorcery and Flames

Chapter 25: Sorcery and Flames

Maluhk peered sideways Alcar as they continued through the Katresburg streets on their way back to the tower. “Golgrasanna? Oh, you’re talking about the southern assassin.”

“Yeah, sir, of course. I thought you weren’t going to hand her to the city authorities.”

Maluhk nodded thoughtfully, looking towards the pavement. “Indeed. I’d rather not attract any more Imperial attention. And besides, she may have betrayed us, but the treatment of prisoners under Duke Frage...” He shuddered.

“That reminds me,” said Alcar. “There were two Khranulian barbarians. They had Brutus before me, but they were arrested. I wonder if there is a way of helping them to get out...?”

“You’ll have two new friends for life if you do,” said Maluhk, “because Khranulians are notoriously loyal, as well as being volatile drunkards in the main. But I’m afraid that the doors of Duke Frage’s prisons only go one way. If they have been arrested, you won’t see them again. At least...” The sorcerer glanced around, looking over his shoulder, before continuing in a quieter voice. “At least, not until we get rid of that noble asshole and install the princess in his place.”

Alcar nodded, and then took a moment to shift the heavy sacks of equipment to his right hand, awkwardly swapping the staff to his left as he did so. “So where did you take Golgrasanna?”

Maluhk chuckled. “As it happened, I took her to the same place that I am taking this bracelet. I think I previously mentioned the warrior Mac Shinter? He’s a shadow knight – one of the best fighters in the realm, even if the years are starting to catch up with him now.”

“A shadow knight... they are elite, yeah? How rare are they?”

“Hard to say. But there can’t be more than ten or twenty in the whole empire. I am pretty sure that my old companion Gellan has reached that level now. But unlike him, Mac Shinter has retained his soul along the way. He’s almost invincible, and as such, a safe person to look after this priceless artefact.”

“Got it.” Alcar nodded. “By the way, I was going to ask about accommodation. It is looking like it’s about to become a lot harder to move around the city, thanks to the damn Imperials.”

“This is true. Well, you and the others should set out in a day or so, after a little more training. When I get back, Warlik and I will give you more details on the route that you will need to take.”

“Right. So, where exactly are we going?”

“We have three leads. The Great Swamp, the Ironrock Mountains, and the Trollbone Hills. But we can look at the maps and such very soon. There is absolutely no point in setting out without being fully prepared.”

They were now approaching Maluhk’s tower once again, and as they turned a corner, Alcar saw that Lox’aar and Olynka were still busy practising their archery in the distance, by the targets at the foot of the city wall. “Mac Shinter’s place is not especially close,” said Maluhk, pausing. “So I will make my way there alone. You should take some time to practice what I showed you. Conjure up the energy between your fingertips and throw it, just like you did outside the store. This time, though, throw it at those archery targets. You need to learn to use mana as a spirit weapon.”

“I... I’ll try.” Alcar was not feeling confident that he could repeat the trick. “What was the phrase again?”

Maluhk was just about to walk away, but now he paused again. ”It’s rac al manuhka. But this time you should try saying rac et weimannia. It will give a bit more punch to the attack. We can go over all of these in good time, and learn to shape the energy too, into daggers and the like.”

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Alcar smiled. “And my new staff – is there some way of using that to focus my energy, like Xian said?”

Maluhk raised one eyebrow and looked at it. “It’s just a stick, kid. And an expensive one, too. I already told you – don’t believe everything a merchant tells you.”

As Master Maluhk walked away, Alcar hurried on over to the tower, and made his way up the steps. The door was unlocked, and Warlik and Etienne were sitting in the lounge. Brutus got up and bounded towards Alcar as he flung down the heavy sacks of adventuring equipment. Alcar leaned down and rubbed at the dog’s ears as the bloodhound licked his face. “Brutus! Are you keeping an eye on these two for me?”

“Nice robes,” said Etienne from the lounge, at which he and Warlik both burst out laughing.

Alcar frowned. “What about them?” he asked, now looking himself up and down self-consciously. Now that he came to look at them more closely – and without the enhancement to his vision – he realizes that they were very green – the colour of a fresh cabbage, and that the fabric was quite shiny, too.

Alcar grunted in annoyance, and then patted Brutus again. “What do you think of my new gear, boy?”

“Wuff!” Brutus licked at the robes, and then sniffed at the staff, wagging his tail.

“I agree entirely! And they have pockets. Now, let’s go check on Olynka.”

Holding the leash again, Alcar led Brutus outside, and after the dog had urinated against the railings of the outside step, they crossed over towards the archery targets beyond. He noticed that Lox’aar and Olynka both had bows, now, and that since he had been away, Olynka had somehow obtained a set of leather armor that covered her torso and shoulders. She also now wore a machete at her hip.

“How are things?” he asked, as he approached the two archers.

Olynka didn’t reply at first. She had her bow drawn, and was holding it perfectly steady, her face a model of focus. Then she released, and the arrow thunked into the target just two inches from the center. She looked around at Alcar and beamed. “Couldn’t be better. What a great morning with my amazing teacher, here!”

Lox’aar chuckled. “Good work, Olynka. You can take a break now. I’ll see you in an hour.” With that, the lizardwoman began to walk back towards the tower.

Olynka looked Alcar up and down. “Hey – nice robes, man. You’re starting to look like a proper apprentice.”

“Thanks! I’m glad someone thinks so. I like your leather armor, too. We are starting to look almost like real adventurers.” He patted his pockets. “I got a load of other cool stuff, too. Chalk, vials, and suchlike. There’s also a rope and grappling hook in the tower. It weighs a goddam ton, actually!”

“I bet. I wonder what we’ll need rope for?”

“Caves and dungeons, perhaps?”

“I guess.”

As Olynka shouldered her bow, Alcar decided that it was time to show off his new sorcery abilities.

”Rac et weimannia,” he said, making the hand gesture. At first, nothing happened, but on a third attempt, he succeeded in summoning a small orb of energy between his fingertips again – this time a darker, streaky blue light, almost purple.”

“Nice,” said Olynka, watching on. “You’ve learned a spell.”

“It’s not a spell,” said Alcar sharply. “Sorcerers don’t do spells. We re-shape reality.”

“Well, I don’t think you want to reshape Brutus, do you? Pass me his leash.”

As Olynka took charge of the dog, Alcar focused hard on the tiny ball of light between his fingertips. He pulled it back until it was level with his cheek and then threw... only for it to bash off the edge of his palm unexpectedly, and fly towards the tower. He had visions of it sailing through a window and igniting his master’s home... but no. The ball fell to the ground well before that point, fizzled, and went out.

“Damn. I really need to practice this,” he said, focusing on his fingertips again.

On his second attempt to summon the ball of light, he did so much more quickly. This time the thrown magical missile arced almost directly upwards, much straighter than before but higher than he had intended. It flew towards a pair of city guards who were standing on the city wall above. Fortunately, neither were looking in his direction. The ball of energy bounced on the top of the wall, hissed, and then dropped down to the target below. This then caught fire, and soon both target and arrow were flaming merrily.”

“Shit – that’s one of my new arrows!” cried Olynka. “Lox’aar will kill me. She was just telling me that I always need to look after them.”

Wincing, Alcar looked in the direction of the tower, expecting to be scolded by Lox’aar, Warlik or both.

What he saw was very different, however.

Etienne was running towards them, a backpack over his shoulders, and one of Alcar’s sacks in either hand. Beyond, Lox’aar was standing just outside the tower door with an arrow nocked. Warlik was beside her, sword in hand.

Further on towards the city, the imposingly muscular figure of General Tung was approaching, twenty of her soldiers with brown tabards just behind. And she had her sword drawn.

“Stop that one!” she cried, pointing at Etienne. “All of these revolutionaries must be rounded up!”