A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos) (17 page)

Two soldiers guarded the drawbridge. “State your business,
sir.”

Basilard handed them the bill. “We are Team Four of the
Dragon's Lair and we're here on a job for the Royal Apothecary.”

 One guard ran a crystal over it then signaled her
counterpart on the other side. “Proceed.”

Basilard led his team across the drawbridge to the opened
iron gate at the base of the curtain wall, where he showed another soldier the
mission bill. After another inspection, he signaled his counterpart on the wall
and waved the mercenaries forward.

Between the curtain wall and the castle itself were
microcosms of the city: residential houses, an orchard, a blacksmith, a
boutique, a bakery, and a brewery. Each was marked with the royal crest.
They
must be government owned . . . maybe in case of a siege.

 Up close, Eric saw that there was indeed nothing wrong with
the castle. It was magnificent; a grand structure as tall as a skyscraper made
from granite, marble, and steel. From its walls to its towers to its drawbridge,
intricate designs were engraved in gold and silver. At first, he thought they
were runes, but they could be decoration. At the gate to the castle proper,
Basilard showed the mission bill to a third guard, whose gender Eric couldn't
determine.

On the first three floors, the royal's castle resembled the
mercenary's guild: warriors going to and fro in partial armor or casual
clothing, the walls were almost bare of ornamentation, and the floor was
somewhat dirty. Basilard even waved and clasped hands. The only difference Eric
could see was the royal seal engraved in iron plaques on walls and doors. The
only extravagance was in the entrance hall and the stairs to the higher levels.

On the next three floors, the change began; the people were
smartly dressed and carried books instead of swords. Pictures hung and suits of
armor stood between them. Eric felt uneasy; the atmosphere was vaguely
uncomfortable. He glanced at Tiza and Nolien; she gagged, he fidgeted.

 Eric realized he truly was in a royal castle on the seventh
floor; rich carpets and delicate engravings of gold and silver and all of them
stylized after the royal seal. Instead of suits of armor, marble statues graced
the halls. The people they passed dressed in jewelry and silk, especially a
gaggle of noble girls and their leader.

She was slender, elegant, and wore her hair in ringlets. The
crest of the Noble House of Heleti adorned her bodice; a griffin carrying a
staff and a sword. Nolien subtly slid behind his mentor to escape her sight.
The girl saw him anyway, but pretended she didn't. Indeed, she pretended not to
notice any of them and instead talked about the price of peas in Persephone.
Nolien sighed in relief.

The people of this floor seemed to shout, “You aren't
welcome here. We will tolerate your presence only so long.” They didn't say
this, but the way they walked on the other side of the hall spoke for them. The
fact that Team Four needed an escort spoke volumes as well.

The soldier pair stopped. “The Office of the Royal
Apothecary.”

The back wall was entirely windows with velvet curtains. A
carpet was spread on the floor and golden braziers hung from the ceiling. To
either side were shelves with exotic bottles. The Apothecary herself sat behind
a fine wood desk and was more elaborately dressed than the room itself.

She was an old shrew; a shrew whose fur had greyed with age.
It was thick and shiny, as if old age had only changed the color. It puzzled
Eric until he realized it could be magic as opposed to shampoo . . . Unless it
was magic shampoo.
How would one make magic shampoo?
He was brought out
of his thoughts by a pinch on the arm.

“Pay attention,” Nolien whispered.

“We are Team Four of the Dragon's Lair, ma'am,” Basilard
said, “What can we do for you?”

“With the upcoming joust, I am in need of special medicine.
Special medicine requires special ingredients, hard-to-get ingredients, which
is why I called you.”

“You want us to do your errands?” Tiza asked.

“Collecting medicinal supplies is hardly running to a
convenience store,” the healer said with her nose high. “I require material
from the Isle of Tsiaq. You may obtain it from the Tsiaq pigeons.”

“As I thought,” Basilard said. “And our pay?”

“50 gold per bottle and it has to be full. Understand?”

“I understand, ma'am,” Basilard said. “I guarantee you will
get full bottles.”

The shrew straightened in her chair. “Good, I expect you
back tomorrow.” Her attendant handed each novice a case.

“We'll be here by then, ma'am.”

In a fraction of the time it took them to get the
Apothecary’s office, Team Four was back on the street. Eric told himself it was
because Basilard didn't have to show the bill to every soldier he met. Back in
the Red Town of the Sword and Staff, Basilard explained the details of their
mission.

“We're collecting
bird poop?
” Nolien shouted
incredulously. Eric was just as shocked as Nolien, but Tiza didn't bat an
eyelash, though she did seem disappointed.

“Yes, it can make potent medicine,” Basilard said
conversationally.

“You've got to be kidding,” Nolien said.

“What do you expect? You're novices,” Basilard said. “The
guild gets work from escorting royals to picking up garbage. While you continue
to develop your skills, your missions will be E and D rank. In other words, grunt
work. You should be happy; this one pays pretty well for a D rank.”

“I wonder why,” Nolien muttered.

Tiza let out a loud breath. “I should have stayed home. This
mission sounds like a bore.”

“Relax; you'll get to fight monsters,” Basilard reassured.

“Really?” Tiza asked eagerly.
She wants to fight monsters
?

“Of course, that's the reason mercenaries are hired to get
the stuff; monsters. The stuff itself is just an unpleasantness; if you breathe
through your mouth, you can hardly smell it.”

 Tiza swung her arms. “I'm not worried about that. As long
as I get some action, I'm happy.”

“Surely there's a better use for our time.” Nolien
protested. “I'm a healer, not an errand boy.”

Basilard beckoned with a hand. “Nolien, come here.” He
smacked the back of the boy's head.“You. Are. A. Novice. The big kids get the
big jobs. Make sense?”

Nolien grudgingly nodded. Basilard then asked Eric if he had
any objections. The battle mage shook his head and said, “If it's my job, I'll
do it.”

Their first stop was the Dragon's Lair. The guild stored
supplies for out-of-town missions in the Dragon's Horde. Basilard exchanged
pleasantries with the dragon Thomas while his novices collected food and tents.
On their way to South Gate, they passed Eric's old school.
They should be in
math right about now
. . . Near the gate a horse left its stable and
neighed. To Eric's delight, he understood it.

“Wherever you're going, you'll get there faster with us. Three
gold a mile. Whaddya say?”

“No thanks,” Basilard said.

Horses that run their own stables . . . I wonder if farm
animals have unions
.

“If you're sure, then safe journey to you,” the horse said. “Come
again.”

“Thank you, see you again soon.” The horse made his pitch to
the next group.

“We're walking?” Nolien asked.

“Of course,” Basilard said as they left Roalt. “It's good
exercise.”

“
This
is exercise? It's ten miles away!” Nolien
protested.

“You should've seen his training,” Eric muttered. “This
would be a warm-up.”

“Geez, you guys sound like tents!” Tiza sneered. The boys and
Basilard blinked.

“Tents?” they all asked.

“Yeah, 'tents.' You know, those ladies that wear huge
dresses with more fabric in them than
real
tents.” Her body tensed like
a spring trap and her face contorted into a hateful scowl. “I doubt the lot of
them have done anything harder than feed themselves—and they could pay someone
for that too!”

“You're not like that, of course,” Nolien said casually. “I
bet you could walk the whole way without getting tired.”

Tiza instantly relaxed and grinned. “You bet I can!” She
took the lead and waved back to her teammates. “Come on, already! The sooner we
get there, the sooner I can fight a monster!”

“That was skillfully done,” Basilard whispered to Nolien.

“It was nothing,” Nolien said, “You should see my sister
when she gets worked up. It takes a lot more than flattery to calm
her
down.”

South Gate's farmland was small despite the fertile soil.
The bulk of it was open land used only for grazing. The people here were ranchers
and nonhuman hunter-gathers.
Not wild life, not wild life, not wild life . .
.
Most of the city's produce came from East Gate. Compared to that area,
this was true wilderness. Tiza loved crossing the creeks and sprinting across
the plans and hiking up the hills and killing the monsters. The latter were
disappointingly easy.

Most of them were small fry and they gathered in certain
places: one or two bubbling pits that smelled of bubble gum, sea coral that
grew bananas, a towering purple and orange tree with black leather leaves.
Basilard explained that the ranchers controlled the populations to protect
their employees.
Not livestock, not livestock, not livestock . . .

“Did a mana storm drop here?” Eric asked.

“Mana storms drop
everywhere
,” Basilard replied. “Except
the cities, usually.”

One hadn't fallen near the Isle, for it was unimpressive.
Eric expected something unusual for the dwelling of monsters, but it was just a
mound of dirt surrounded by water with trees sticking out if it.

“Are we swimming?” Nolien asked sarcastically.

“Nah, no good will come from that.” Basilard raised his
palm. “Our supplies will get wet.”

A shock wave dwarfed Laharg's shot from his hand and cut the
water. From bank to bank, it was pushed aside and held in place. There was now
a path to the island.

“Teach me how to do that!” Tiza said, awestruck.

“I will when you're ready.” Basilard lowered his hand.
Ignoring Tiza's scowl, he jumped onto the path. “Come on. It won't last
forever!”

Walking that path made up for the boring journey. Walls of
water provided a perfect view of marine life; a natural aquarium. Eric could
reach out and touch a fish if he wanted to.
Are there aquariums like this on
Tariatla? I should check . . .

Rather than look at the fish, Tiza looked at the trees and
the strange birds flying from them. Their necks were long, their bodies were
fat, and their legs were scaled. They had jagged beaks and long tails. Oddest
of all, their wings looked too short to allow flight.
Turigos, from the . .
. what was it . . .?

They flew right over Eric's head and away into the distance.
Nolien admired them until they flew out of sight. Tiza ignored them; she hoped
for bigger game on the island. She jumped and flipped over the boulders in
their path.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Nolien advised. “You'll
trip.”

Tiza struck the landing and glared daggers at Nolien. “Bite
me!”

“That wasn't a lady-like thing to say.” Tiza stomped on
Nolien's foot, earning a groan of pain.

He should give up.
His older brother said it was
dangerous to be on a girl's bad side.

Eric was the last to cross. He climbed the rocky bank and
joined his teammates. Seconds later, the walls broke and the gap collapsed.
Basilard found a shady tree away from the bank, pulled a book out, and sat
down.

“What are you doing?” Nolien asked.

“Reading,” Basilard answered as he opened to a marked page.

“Why?” Nolien asked through gritted teeth.

“To see what happens,” Basilard answered.

“We're on a mission!” Nolien shouted.

“So?” A vein poked out on Nolien's forehead. He opened his
mouth, but Tiza beat him to it.

“'
So'?
” she shrieked. “Why aren't you helping!?”

Basilard sighed, put his book down, and pulled off one of
his gloves. All five fingers were covered in scars; too small for any blade,
but just the right size for a beak. “When your hand looks like mine, and you're
a senior, you wouldn't have to either.” He put his glove back on and picked up
his book. “I earn my pay teaching and keeping you out of trouble.”

“What kind of book is that, anyway?” Eric asked.

“It's an action-adventure novel,” Basilard replied.

Nolien read the book's title. “I've heard of this series:
it's smut!”

 “It's an action-adventure novel for adults.”

Nolien sighed. “Don't worry about the mission, Tiza. Eric
and I will handle it.”

“What!?” she shrieked again.

“A lady like yourself shouldn't have to take part in such
labor.”

Tiza grabbed his collar and glared pointblank. “Call me ‘a
lady’ again and I'll snap your neck.”

“Why don't you like being called ‘a lady’?” Nolien asked. He
was so calm, Eric wondered if he knew he was being threatened.

“That's none of your business.” She let go, pushed him away,
and walked away.

“And all this secrecy; we're supposed to be a team!” Nolien
called to her back.

“Yeah, and that means respecting my privacy!” Tiza shouted
back mid-stride. She paused.

“Why are you calling me that, anyways? I'm just an alley cat
with no family but the guild.”

“I was raised to treat all women as if they were nobility.”

Tiza's mouth flapped silently before shutting. Eric guessed
she wasn't expecting that answer. She turned back around and dashed. A confused
Nolien turned to Eric, who shrugged. He didn't understand girls in his own
world; he wouldn't have a clue about the ones here.

Bottles in tow, Eric and Nolien roamed the island, looking
for poop. The nests were under bushes and nestled between tree roots and every
one had a small feathery guardian that screeched and bit anything that got too
close. Eric couldn't understand them, which convinced him they were monsters.