Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2) (37 page)

BOOK: Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2)
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Pancras swallowed and put away
his money. “Twenty? So far?” He sighed and drank from his tankard of ale.

“I’m also not willing to just let
him walk away.”

Gisella observed the conflict in
Pancras’s eyes as he stared into his tankard of ale. He rubbed his right horn
again as he shook his head and muttered to himself. She reached over and
touched his arm. “We may have to leave him to his fate.”

“I’ll leave you to your
decisions.” Lady Aveline stood. “You’re welcome to come visit your friends at
the jail now.”

Abandoning Edric to Curton
justice wasn’t Gisella’s first choice, but planning a jailbreak was not an
option. Qaliah had potential, however, and that the fiendling would be
permitted to go free assuaged some of her guilt at abandoning one member of
their fellowship. She hoped Pancras saw reason in leaving Edric behind.

 

 

Chapter 20

 

Surprised by the number of high
wizards in attendance, Delilah entered the Court of Wizardry. Whatever the
archmage planned for her, he obviously wanted to make a big show of it.

The rainbow of wizards sitting to
the left and right of Archmage Vilkan observed Delilah as she stepped across
the court, the claws on her feet clicking against the stone floor. She adjusted
her harness and straightened her apprentice’s seal, thankful to be rid of the
robes that plagued her since she became involved with the university.

“Ah, Apprentice Drak. Punctual
for once.”

Delilah resisted the urge to blow
him a raspberry. She spent the last hour in the outer chambers waiting for
permission to enter the court. “Delilah.”

“Excuse me?”

Delilah stopped and bowed to the
assembled wizards. “My name is Delilah, not ‘Drak,’ Master.” She added the last
to appease the archmage.

The high wizard garbed in brown
robes nodded. “The master should respect the apprentice if he expects the same
in return.”

“Yes, yes.” Archmage Vilkan held
up his hand to silence the murmurs from the other high wizards. Delilah
adjusted her grip on her staff and suppressed a grin. She found it interesting
one of the high wizards supported her defiance of the archmage.

“I have informed the court that
you are now my apprentice.” The archmage drummed his fingers on the arms of his
chair and glanced to his left and then to his right at the seated high wizards.

“His actions are unorthodox but
permitted under Arcane University rules.”

“Clever separation of guild
duties and headmaster responsibilities.”

“Surprised it was this long in
coming.”

Archmage Vilkan glared at the
wizard who last spoke. Delilah wasn’t sure which one of them said it, and by
the archmage’s expression, she suspected he could not determine by voice alone
which high wizard spoke.

“Yes, I am your apprentice now,
Archmage.” Delilah tilted her head to hide her sneer. “What would you have me
do?”

“My sources report the giants are
amassing an army in the mountains.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Recent
events, however, have given me reason to doubt my sources. I want fresh
intelligence. Follow the west road. Two days into the mountains, there is a
valley in which the giants make their home. You will be my spy, Apprentice
Dra—Delilah. They are rumored to have a dragon pet, as well.”

“A dragon?” Delilah made a show
of swallowing and shuffling her feet. “I can’t take on a dragon alone.”

“I understand draks and dragons
have a special relationship.” A predatory smile overtook his face. “I know you
live with one in Drak-Anor.”

Archmage Vilkan sat back and sneered
at her. “If the dragon is there, you will befriend it. You will convince it
that we wizards are its allies, not the giants.”

Delilah leaned on her staff and
chuckled. “You want me to sneak into a giant-filled valley and steal their
dragon? I don’t know where you got your information about draks and dragons—”

He stood, slashing the air with
his hand. “This is no laughing matter! Even now, the archduke seeks a truce
with those brutes in the mountain.” He pointed behind him, in the general
direction of the mountains. “They are treacherous and stupid. They will destroy
our crops, and they will ruin our lands! You will pledge yourself to this
dragon and poison its mind against the giants. Wipe them out. All of them!”

“A mighty task to entrust to an
apprentice.”

“Moving so openly against the
archduke—”

“A dragon’s knowledge and
treasure would be most valuable—”

The high wizards spoke over one
another. Delilah shook her head. It was true the archduke wanted peace with the
giants. Despite his mania, the archmage was right about that. Sending her to
turn their dragon against them seemed like a suicide mission.

“You’re cracked. You’ve turned
like milk left in the sun.” Delilah wasn’t sure what that meant, but she heard
it when Katka insulted an obnoxious novice and thought it amusing.

“Silence!” Archmage Vilkan’s
voice reverberated throughout the room. “I have seen our doom. Fiery wings
flying above an army of giants. I will not allow it to happen.”

He stepped down from the dais and
circled the room, pointing at the high wizards. “I am archmage. The unholy
alliance of the giants and their pet dragon must be broken. An army could not
do it. I could not do it. None of you could do it. But a drak”—he stopped and
pointed a trembling finger at Delilah—“a single drak versed in magic and dragon
lore could gain its confidence. Convince it we are no threat. Convince it we
will serve in atonement for the slaying of Rannos Dragonsire and the
Sundering.”

“You seek to control this
dragon?”

“You would deceive this dragon?”

“A dangerous game.”

“A bold ploy.”

The comments from the high
wizards flew fast, and Delilah labored to keep up with them. The more she heard
of the archmage’s plan, the more she became convinced he had gone utterly mad.
The archduke sought to live in harmony with the giants, and if they were
guardians of a slumbering Firstborne, he wanted peace with her, as well. She
couldn’t fathom why the archmage would want to destroy the giants.
Even a
drakling knows it’s best to let sleeping dragons lie.

The Violet Wizard tapped his
staff on the floor, drawing everyone’s attention. “Your apprentice should have
a say in this. It is a most dangerous assignment.”

“She will do as I say.”

Delilah cleared her throat. The
archmage might silence her, but she anticipated the other high wizards would
allow her to speak. “I know nothing about negotiating with dragons. Terrakaptis
sleeps most of the time. Muncifer doesn’t need a war with these giants. I can
spy on them for you. I can deliver a message for you. But I tell you this with
all honesty—if there is a dragon in that valley, you have nothing that can
tempt it.”

She felt the eyes of the high
wizards on her through their masks. Archmage Vilkan clenched his teeth and then
seated himself, gripping the arms of his chair with white knuckles. “What,
then, do you suggest, Apprentice?”

Delilah’s mind raced as she
worked through the possibilities. If Terrakaptis’s sister lived with the
giants, she felt she owed it to the Earth Dragon and her brother to find out.
She didn’t want to be the instrument by which the archmage incited a war
between the giants and Muncifer, though. In all likelihood, the giants were
content to stay in their mountains and trade with Muncifer, just like the archduke
wanted.

“I have known a few giants, and
I’ve read more about them than dragons.” Delilah hoped no one would see through
the lie. She actually hadn’t read anything about either one of them; the only
giant she’d even known personally was a brutish thug, just like the archmage
claimed they all were. “I bet they prefer to be left in peace. I’ll deliver a
message, a request to meet with them to discuss terms, to clear up recent
misunderstandings.”

She tapped the butt of her staff
on the stone floor. “I’m not stupid enough to mess with a dragon, though. If
they have one as an ally, we need to make nice. A dragon half of Terrakaptis’s
size could lay waste to this city without breaking a sweat.”

The drak sorceress swallowed. It
wasn’t that far from the archmage’s plan, but it was a more sensible approach.

The archmage leaned forward and
sneered. “This stinks of the archduke.”

“The archduke rules Muncifer.”

“No wizard has fought a dragon in
this age; the drak speaks sense.”

“Your apprentice has wis—”

“Silence!” The archmage stood,
scowling at the high wizards. “The drak will deliver a message of peace to the
giant. We will meet at the Well of the Willow on Midsummer’s Day to discuss a
truce… and peace.” He turned to face Delilah. “You will learn as much as you
can about their strengths, their weaknesses, and the truth of this dragon, and
you will report back to me.”

He flipped his robes and stomped
past Delilah. “If they are no threat, so be it. If they do pose a threat, we
will wipe them out at the Well of the Willow.” He exited the Court of Wizardry,
slamming the doors behind him.

The assembled high wizards
murmured to themselves and then disappeared in puffs of smoke matching the
colors of their robes. All departed, save for the Violet Wizard. He, or she, strode
over to Delilah and met her eyes. It felt as if the black eyes of the colorless
mask bored into her soul.

“An interesting approach,
Apprentice. Take care you do not underestimate your foes.”

She eyed the impassive mask.
“Usually, it is they who underestimate me.”

 

* * *

 

Pancras drained the ale from his
tankard. None of the options he considered appealed to him.

“Even if the magistrate is
lenient with Edric, I doubt he will avoid paying the fines and damages.”
Gisella tapped on the table in front of Pancras to gain his attention.

“I know. I’m not paying that for
him.” His tone conveyed his certainty. Had it been Kale or Delilah, perhaps his
feelings would be different.

“Then we have no choice: we must
collect Qaliah and leave Edric to his fate. If Dolios intervenes and the dwarf
is freed, he can catch up to us, but I tell you now, I will have no part in
helping him escape.”

Pancras didn’t need to meet her
eyes to see Gisella’s expression. The ice in her voice told him all he needed
to know. He shook his head. “The thought never entered my mind. I think it
would be best to leave first thing in the morning. It’s already too late for us
to make any progress toward Cliffport today.”

Gisella covered her mouth and
nodded. “I expected more of an argument from you.”

“I’m nothing if not practical.”
He tossed a couple of silver talons on the table. “Let’s break the news to
Qaliah and Edric. Let’s be done with this.”

The inevitable confrontation with
Edric gnawed at Pancras’s gut like a boggin. He imagined the verbal abuse the
dwarf would hurl at him. Qaliah would likely not be happy either.
Perhaps
they will both remain here.

Pancras felt apathetic about
Edric. He didn’t mind the dwarf’s company, but he hardly considered him a
friend. He’d grown fond of the fiendling since they left Muncifer, even though
she shot him in the chest and killed him. He rubbed the scar through his robes.
In a way, she reminded him of Delilah, and Pancras hoped she would continue to travel
with them to Vlorey, for no other reason than that.

The sun hung low in the sky by
the time they reached the jail. Thin clouds were wisps of pink and crimson in
the western sky, backlit by a fiery orb. A light breeze blew the earthy odors
of nearby pottery kilns through the air. He paused to scrape accumulated mud
from his hooves before entering the building. The constant filth served as a
bitter reminder of the lack of such in Drak-Anor.

Lady Aveline distributed evening
assignments to guardsmen gathered in the front room of the prison. After
checking their equipment, they left one by one and headed out to Mudder’s Gate,
the marketplace, or Vineyard Hill, the district where all the wealthier
citizens of Curton lived. She noticed Gisella and Pancras standing near the
door and nodded an acknowledgement as she distributed a final assignment.

“Patrol the metalworking
district. I’ve heard some grumbling in the drak community about unfair
treatment by a few of the smiths. We’ve had to break up some fights in the
square at Copper Street and Iron Way over the last few days. Disperse any
unruly crowds, but don’t bother arresting anyone until blood is spilled. The
draks’ grievances are just. All right?”

“Understood, mi’lady.” The guard
saluted Lady Aveline, turned on his heel and left.

“Here to collect your fiendling?”

Pancras crossed his hand over his
chest and bowed. “To talk to her at least. We’re not resuming our journey until
the morning.”

“Fine. Follow me.” She grabbed a
ring of keys from a hook on her desk and led them down the stairs at the back
of the jail. Lanterns sputtered in the damp darkness, casting dim, yellow light
into the stone corridor. Stopping before the first cell, she unlocked it. She
held the door open for Pancras and Gisella. After they entered the cell, she
locked it behind them.

“Let me know when you want out.
I’ll be just down the hall.”

Qaliah lay on the cot with her
fingers interlaced behind her head. She glanced at Gisella and Pancras as they
entered. “I guess you heard the news, huh?”

“Yes. We’re leaving tomorrow.”
Pancras stood at the end of the cot. Gisella offered a hand to Qaliah.

The fiendling ignored the helping
hand. “Edric’s hearing with the magistrate isn’t for a few days.”

“That’s right. Could be nearly a
week, we hear.” Gisella nodded. “After which he’ll be indentured, and maybe put
into stocks.”

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