A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos) (46 page)

“Daylra.” Eric interrupted. Basilard was so surprised he let
him finish. “If a glove has a sealing rune on the inside, can it be removed?”

“Of course,” Basilard replied. “What made you think
otherwise?”

 The silence in Eric's head was so profound it was audible.

Basilard explained that Motsuc the Customizer could remove
any rune easily. It was simple, quick, and cheap, but he didn't have time for
it: Team Four had a mission. Eric looked to Annala with trepidation. For her
own sake, she needed to get those things off as soon as possible. True healing
couldn't begin if she was still shackled to the incident.

“You can have my cut of the fee and you don't have to train
me until after the next mission. I'll study from the text instead.”

“Not so fast, Novice Eric. You ditched once before and now
you're going to a second time?”

“Oh come on! I was rescuing Princess Kasile! Doesn't that
count as an excused absence?”

Basilard placed a hand on his hilt. “Aaloon will have a fit
if he gets another report that's one mage short. Captain Quando will have to
take action. Leader Ridley will be notified. If you don't want to do a mission,
that's fine, but you need to notify Mia in advance so she can find someone to
fill in.”

Annala averted her eyes and said, “It . . . it's all right,
Eric. I . . . I can wait.”

Eric took hold of her chin to make her look him in the eyes.
“No, I'll worry about you. I won't be able to concentrate.” Still holding her
chin, he turned to Basilard. “I'll catch up with you.”

“The mission is Across the Sea. They've asked for escorts
and battle mages will be needed.”

“What about you!?” He dropped his hand and made a fist. “You
sleep
! Or read your smut!”

“Adventure novel for adults,” Basilard corrected. “Besides,
I'm not all-powerful. Remember our
last
escort mission?”

The memories rushed forward: dying screams, cave walls
shaking, hot breath on his neck, Aio's dying words. “Without you, this team
wouldn't exist.”

“Eric, I-I can get there o-on my own,” Annala gulped. “I
can, believe me.”

Eric was torn.

On one hand, Annala needed him. She was scarred. Her magic
was sealed. There were muggers and lunatics, and worst of all, other rapists.
They might know the command for the runes. It was a long shot, but it was
possible and that's what mattered.

On the other hand, his team needed him. He'd read about sea
monsters and they were more dangerous than their land counterparts. They could
attack without revealing themselves and their prey had nowhere to run. His team
could lose their lives. They were more likely to need his help. Then he noticed
Annala fidgeting. She tugged on the pointed end of her ear. Her other hand
twitched.

Fear! Protect!

“Daylra, I'd like to hire Team Four.”

“Really?” Basilard asked, and a corner of his mouth quirked.
“What might the mission be?”

“Escorting Ms. Annala Enaz to Motsuc's Customization shop.
Your fee will be forty gold coins. The mission will begin right now.”

“No, it won't because I'm not accepting it and
they
are busy training.”

“What? Why!?”

“I don't have to give a reason. I don't like it so I'm not
doing it.”

“Then you'll have to go without me,
Daylra
. Come on,
Annala.”

“Eric, you are on thin ice. Ditching a mission twice is a
serious offense. If you leave now, it will be grounds for termination.” Annala
gasped and raised her gloved hands to her lips.

Eric shrugged and pulled out his badge. “If you really want
it you can have it.”

“Eric!” Annals shouted, then turned to Basilard. “He doesn't
mean that!” she said urgently. “He's just worried about me!”

“Why is he so worried, Ms. Enaz?”

“Because . . .” Annala trailed off and averted her gaze. “Because
. . .” She looked to Eric.

“Because I killed Tahart, Daylra.” Nolien whirled with such
force his patient shouted in pain. “I killed him because he tried to rape
Annala.” Tiza paused her shadowing boxing.

“Eric, we need to talk.”

“I know! I killed a wealthy client who gave easy missions!
But I don't regret it! So punish me and get it over with!”

 Silence fell in the training hall. No one moved or said a
word.

Conflict raced in Nolien's mind. For once, his emotions were
easy to read: shock, confusion, disgust. Tiza was unabashedly impressed. Her
emotions were always easy to read: surprise, respect, admiration. The platypus
patient, for a third point of view, had a wide smile on his face and his eyes
darted from one human to the next. Only one emotion showed on his face: This is
better than cable!

At last Basilard spoke. “Who said I was going to punish you?”

“You're not?” Eric asked in confusion.

“You're not?” Nolien repeated.

Basilard fingered his hilt. “Eric, do you know why our guild
is called 'The Dragon's Lair'?”

“Isn't that a long story?”

“Yes, but I'll make it as short as I can. Now's as good a
time as any.”

The Mother Dragon lived in a time of prolonged war. There
was a lot of killing and a lot of orphans. She found these children of war and
raised them as her own. However, she knew they couldn't stay on her apron strings
forever. They had to support themselves, but she didn't want to split them up.
She decided on a guild of mercenaries: good fighters would fight, good mages
would cast, any who were literate could record—

“Uh . . .This is very interesting . . . but . . . ” Eric
interrupted. “Do you have a point in here somewhere?”

“Getting to it!” Basilard snapped. “Anyway . . . let's see .
. .where was I? Oh yes . . .”

The Founder was protective of her children. They joked that
she was a dragon guarding treasure.
That
is how she became known as the
Mother Dragon. Everyone has their own lair and inside is their greatest
treasure. It could be as selfish as one's own life or as noble as the life of a
friend.

Basilard drew the sword at his side and gently swung it back
and forth. It sang.

“This is BloodDrinker. It was created by the founder of my
clan and has been passed down from chief to chief ever since. Not only that, it
carries the accumulated power of every bearer since the founder. It is the
Bladi Clan's legacy. To us it is worth more than all the gold in Tariatla.”

He returned the sword to its sheath. “In Laharg's lair is
his pride as an orc and his partner Maliz; he would never betray either of
them. If I looked into
your
lair, I imagine I'd see Ms. Enaz.”

Annala blushed to the roots of her hair and hid her face
with her hands. Eric blushed just hard and insisted his concern was as a
friend. Tiza chuckled and Eric face-palmed.
I'll never hear the end of this!
She might change his nickname from “Dimwit” to “Loverboy.”

“Eric, my point is that you discovered something about
yourself. Tahart offered you hush money didn't he? And despite being a 'sell
staff,' you refused it. There is no such thing as a 'true mercenary.' The
person who will do absolutely anything for the right price does not exist.”

Eric's shuddered with relief. He
had
been offered a
bribe to ignore Tahart and he
had
given Annala pricey loot. He could
have made a lot of gold, but his friend was more important.

“Don't get me wrong. There are people in this guild that
would have taken Tahart's offer. Romanticized views of us annoy me. There was
this one guy that—” Basilard chuckled. “Tried out because . . .” More chuckles.
“ . . .
Heroes
for Hahaha
!” He was unable to continue due to
intense laughter.

When he recovered, he instructed Tiza and Nolien to continue,
then waved Eric and Annala to the surface. As soon as Mia saw Annala's pendant
she fell in love with it and
demanded
to know where she got it. Annala
proudly said it was a gift. Eric blushed and scratched the back of his neck.
They introduced themselves and exchanged scry numbers. Then they talked about
shoes and Eric was lost.

“Don't worry, we have time to kill.”

“I thought no one liked waiting for escorts.”

“That's true, but the restaurant isn't open yet.”

“Did you just say 'restaurant'?”

Basilard replied with mock innocence. “You haven't heard of
it? There's a restaurant a block from the bridge called 'Across the Sea.' It
sells exotic food and they call their waiters 'escorts' because it sounds
adventurous. You
really
didn't know what I was talking about?”

Eric glared. “I thought my test concerned
runes
, not
character
.”

The grin he'd been suppressing finally broke loose. “You'll
have that one later.”

Annala scowled. “So you're
not
crossing any seas and
you're not really escorts.”

“Exactly. Why else do you think we were in the Training
Hall?”

“Then why'd you threaten to fire me?”

“I wouldn't, but Aaloon would. The old man will jump at any
opportunity to see you suffer.”

“Who?” Annala asked.

“Aaloon,” Eric said wearily. “A nutcase in Archives that
thinks I'm a scroll thief.”

“Don't worry,” Mia said brightly. “The guildhead has the
final say in the dismissal of members. Leader Ridley, in her long tenure, has
only done it once.”

“Who was it?” Eric asked.

“Ohh . . . what was his name?” Mia gave her head a few light
pats. “Think, think, think.”

“Mia, we came here to see Reywall,” Basilard said, his voice
cold and his hand on his hilt. “Not to discuss guild history.” Mia gave him a
knowing look and said Reywall was in his office.

Which was to the right of the reception desk. Its door was
emblazoned with a sign of a gavel and book and marked with a sign:

Reywall Esne,
Professional Advocate

If you fight outside the
Court, I'll fight for you inside it.

Inside was a desk flanked by lockable filing cabinets. In
front were two chairs and behind were two sapients: a human and an owl. The owl
was looking into a crystal ball and the human had its head stuck in one of the
cabinets.
Let me guess . . .

 “Hey, Reywall. What's up?”

The owl didn't look up from his crystal. “Hopefully a good
deal on that new Sam Drive movie. You can get them cheap on Cmarket but someone
always outbids me at the last second.”

Basilard leaned on the desk. “I've got an interesting case; wanna
hear it?”

“Does it involve Hasina?” Reywall asked with dread.

“No.”

“Good, because that woman is fu—”

“Eric Watley . . . I'd like you to meet Reywall Esne, the
guild's advocate.”

The owl finally looked away from his computer. “Pleased to
meet you, Mr. Watley.” He flew to Eric, hovered in midair, and offered a claw.

“The pleasure's all mine . . .” Eric awkwardly shook the
claw.
I don't think I'll ever get used to this.
“So you work solely for
the Dragon's Lair?”

“I don't have time for anyone else—kidding! Seriously, I do
make a living defending the members of this guild. Usually it's Hasina or one
of the other captains, so a young thing like yourself is a refreshing change of
pace. What kind of trouble are you in?”

Eric told his side: from first seeing Annala in Tahart's
apartment to leaving with Annala. Then Annala told her side, from how she was
hired to leaving with Eric.

“I see . . . Hmm . . .I don't believe this will be a
problem.”

“Really!?” two voices chorused.

The owl counted off pinion feathers. “With both of your
testimony, the witnesses who saw your wind-powered dash, the physical evidence
of the pictures, gloves, socks and collar, it'll be a breeze. Sound-proof runes
have been tamper-proof since the Magical Privacy Act of 1548, and as you are an
Otherworlder, we can say the Founder of Practical Jokes tampered with them.
The
'Trickster made me do it' defense will work wonders.”

Reywall flapped to his computer and calculated. “Not only
will I get Mr. Watley acquitted of all charges, I'll get Ms. Enaz compensated
for her suffering—with a cut for myself, of course.”

Accessing Ataidar's branch of the Justice Station website he
scheduled a meeting and continued, “Sam, drop everything! We have a new case!” he
said with a wave of his wing. “One that doesn't involve any of the guild's
lunatics!”

Sam was so excited, his scream of joy made the cabinet
vibrate. Then he yanked his head out, jumped over the desk, and shook hands
with Eric, Annala, and Basilard for good measure; thanking them for freeing him
from the case of experimental cough drops.

I guess the hospital took action after all.
Sam
accepted the camera from Annala and danced out of the room, singing her
praises. She and Eric sweat dropped.

 “Rest assured he is skilled in Advocate Martial Arts—kidding!
Seriously, I don't think you'll need to appear in court. The judge will see
this evidence and your written testimony, say 'it was self-defense; Statutory
Provision.' BANG!” Reywall imitated swinging a judge's mallet. “And that will
be it.”

“What about the gloves and all?” Annala asked. “Can I take
them off?”

“I'd rather you didn't so the judge can see, but if you
really want to . . .” He shrugged.

“It will have to wait until after the mission,” Basilard
said. “Or we'll be late.”

“But Daylra—”

“Mr. Bladi,” Annala said. “I'd like to come with you, if
that's all right. I need a new job and if they're hiring you, they may have a
permanent opening.”

Chapter 17
Summer
Jobs

There was indeed a restaurant called Across the Sea and they
did serve exotic cuisine. The building itself was a conglomeration of foreign
landmarks: the Dragon Tower of Anich stood next to the Many Headed Ox of
Mahican; the Statue of Tasio's defiance in Rlawader mooned the Circles of
Harmony in Liclis. Inside trinkets from these places hung, stood, and swayed in
all directions. Eric stood beneath a Mithran branch on the stage.