Dragon Sacrifice (The First Realm Book 3) (9 page)

The boy blushed. “I carry bricks, is all.”

“I thought elven buildings were constructed in one piece,” Cruix said.

Greg shook his head. “Not in the Old Quarter. Too expensive.”

Elrond’s nephew came by again.

“All right, all right, let the birthday boy have his pint,” Sandahl said.

“Happy birthday, kid.” Jodo patted Greg on the back. Jodo’s brothers murmured agreement.

Someone touched Cruix’s arm. We turned and a beautiful halfling woman pulled her hand back. I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and take her back to my ship.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Cruix asked.

“Sorry. I thought we did,” she said.

“Mother!” Greg said. He had a beer moustache.

“This is your mother?” I asked, and mentally kicked myself. Sir Obvious, that’s me.

Introductions again. Mariel was a roofer. She had wavy auburn hair, which I like, and a magnificent cleavage, which I liked even better. It was hard to keep my eyes on her face.

“I didn’t know there were women in construction,” Cruix said.

“We do the shit jobs, mostly,” Mariel said. “Carry water, dig ditches, that sort of thing. I was lucky to be good at thatching roofs, and it just went from there. I work with copper now.”

“She’s quite in demand,” Sandahl said. She had an arm around Mariel.

“That’s great!” I said. Halflings had trouble learning a trade. Because their lives were so short it didn’t seem like a wise investment. Why teach someone a skill that they’ll never get really good at it?

“Plus, she’s got an edge,” Sandahl said. “Show them, luv.”

Mariel picked up a fork from her plate. The tines waggled like fingers and the whole thing curled in on itself. It straightened, then twisted like a noodle.

“It’s magic,” I said. A halfling was doing magic. “Impossible!”

“And yet she’s doing it,” Cruix said. He had that intense look that meant he was using his Sight.

“So… how…?” Lodo asked.

“It started after I had Greg,” Mariel said. “It’s like part of him stayed with me.”

“Awwww,” the dwarf brothers said.

“She’s got an aura,” Cruix said. “It’s a close match with her son’s, although not as strong.”

“So having a magical baby makes you magic?!” Sandahl said. “How can I get in on this?”

“Technically, you’re already magical,” Jodo said.

I leaned closer to Cruix. “Exactly how does this work?” I asked.

“What she said. Her entire body is full of traces of Greg’s foetal tissue. It’s in her blood, her brain—everywhere!”

“I actually understood that,” I said.

“I used the smallest words possible.”

Greg was talking with the dwarves about his plans. He was going to join the builder’s guild, work his way up to master. He grinned a familiar grin when he talked about eventually putting himself through mage school.

“I know it’s going to take a while,” he said. “I might be well into my second century before they let me into their club. But this is what life gave me.”

I coughed and stood up. “Would you take some air with me, Sandahl?”

Chapter 8

We walked out of the pub and sidestepped under the awning. It had started to rain.

“Smoke?” she asked, offering a cigar.

“Thanks, but no,” I said.

We were silent while she lit up. When she spoke, it was in the Norse tongue.

“It is good to speak our mother tongue,”
she said.
“The alfr language is beautiful, but I am not at ease with it.”

“You speak it well,”
I said.
“I often am teased. They say to me, Heronimo, how can you still sound like that after all these years? I tell them I take lessons to keep my accent.”

Sandahl laughed.
“Where would I go for such lessons? It seems every year I become less a Northlander.”

“Do you miss the fatherland?”

“Parts of it. But overall, I like where I am. The Alfr is arrogant but peace-loving. The Dvergar is a stout drinking companion, as you see.”

I laughed.
“They work as hard as they play. I am fond of them.”

“Your girlfriend is a dvergar,”
she said.
“Can I trust you, given who your friends are?”

“I merely wished to ask if Greg knew his father. It is well known that alfr reward women who give them heirs, and that the children lack for nothing. The boy and his mother may not need to work so hard.”

Sandahl frowned. Thunder rolled in from the distance. The rain fell in torrents.

“First, she is not certain who the father is,”
Sandahl said.
“If she contacted one of her ex-lovers, there is a chance the others would find out. She wants no blood on her hands.”

“Oof,” I said. Heirs were serious business. Elves would fight to the death over the custody of a baby.

Sandahl went on.
“Second, she does not want her son taken from her. In these situations, how often will a halfling mother raise her own child?”

If the elf was married he’d raise the baby as his wife’s. If he wasn’t, he still wasn’t likely to keep the mother around. That would advertise the kid’s half-elf status.

“Then can I trust you?”
she asked.

I nodded.
“But call on me if the boy needs something.”

“Agreed,”
she said.
“Also, there is a third reason. She did not want Greg to grow up into an arsehole.”

I laughed.
“They are not all like that!”

“What’s this I hear? Is it the snarling of wild dogs?”

Four elves had stepped up to the door. They looked like university students.

The elf-woman spoke again. “I am mistaken: These are not dogs. Dogs would know to come out of the rain.”

“Now, listen here—” Sandahl started. I put a hand on her arm to stop her.

“Let’s just go inside,” I said.

They followed us in, though. I could smell the alcohol on their breath. They were very drunk. I pulled Sandahl to our table and sat down to watch.

“Barkeep!” The elf-woman waved a banknote. “A bottle of your finest!”

“You look like you’ve had a few already,” Elrond said.

“It’s my birthday. My
fiftieth
birthday. And I want a fucking drink!”

“That’s enough, young lady. You may sit, but the only drink you’ll get is coffee.”

She stamped her foot. “So our money’s not good enough, but theirs is?” She pointed at us.

I realized that our table was the most diverse, with three dwarves and two humans. Everyone else in the pub was either an elf or a half-elf. They all kept their heads low.

“It’s not fair.” The elf-woman said. She wore her hair long, but the front half of her scalp was shaved, giving her an extremely high forehead. On it was tattooed a snake, or a thunderbolt.

“This is an elven city! This is an elven pub! Why can’t I get a drink when these foreigners can?”

“Vergaran,” Jodo whispered. “Probably an air mage.”

“I say, what is that you’re saying?” she said. “Talking behind my back? Behind my
back?!
”

“We meant no insult.” I put up my hands, but she was already red in the face.

“That is it!” She stamped her foot. “Outside! I challenge you to a duel!”

“All of us?” Lodo asked.

“What kind of duel?” Kodo asked. “Wait, don’t we get to choose the weapons?”

“This isn’t necessary,” I said. “We haven’t done anything wrong. Nobody’s done anything to warrant a duel.”

“It’s not like they killed your family,” Cruix said.

“That hurt my feelings,” I told him.

The elf-woman laughed. “And here I thought all Northlanders were brave. Is that why you left? Couldn’t hack it in your native land? Are you a chicken, then? Do you have an arse full of feathers?”

“Maybe that’s why he’s got chicken legs,” said one of the other elves, he looked like her boyfriend.

“Yeah! Chicken legs! Like a side of beef on stilts!”

“Shut up!” I said. “I do legs twice a week! I’m perfectly proportionate!”

“Sit down, meathead,” Cruix said. “You’re letting her get to you.”

“I will not fight,” I told the elf-woman. “Insult me all you like, but I refuse to draw blood for no good reason.”

She whipped her hand over her head. A wind swirled through the pub, rattling bottles and overturning drinks. The wagon-wheel chandeliers chimed. The lights flickered. Cruix’s hair blew over his face. The woman’s boyfriend extended his fingers and slashed them back. Every spilled drink leaped into his hand, flowing and twisting into a watery whip. With a crack, he cut through my pitcher of beer.

Elrond said. “For once you’ve gone too far!” Elrond said.

The elf-woman sneered. “I go where I please!”

Another elf lifted his foot and brought it down, hard. The ground shook. Dust fell from the rafters. Another elf-woman stepped forward and lit her hands on fire.

“Either you meet us outside, or we pull this place down around your ears,” said the first elf-woman.

“I’ll call the watch!” Elrond said.

I stood up. “That won’t be necessary.”

I stepped onto the street and was instantly drenched. Sandahl was right behind me, and so were the dwarves. I looked behind me.

Cruix opened the door and sauntered into the storm. It was winter and the water was cold, even for me. He seemed unaffected, however.

“It was getting boring in there,” he said.

We faced our opponents. They stood in the rain as well, but they were casting a spell that deflected the rain above them. They were dry, and smug about it.

“Gods, but they’re annoying,” Sandahl said.

“I’m glad we left our weapons inside,” I said. “This is an elven city, after all.”

The fire mage lit up her hands like flares. We were separated by thirty feet of falling water and I still felt the heat.

“Still glad you’re unarmed?” Cruix asked. “She’s mine.” And he dashed forward.

The air mage shot a ball of air at me. It parted the rain and slammed into my chest. I stepped back. She dashed forward.
Whap
. A solid slap to my face. I admit, I was rocked, it was that fast. I got my guard up and swung. She dodged and got me with a kick that came out of nowhere. I tried to grapple but she hit me with an uppercut and opened her hand.
Boom
I was lifted off my feet by a blast of air.

Sandahl faced the earth mage.

“Yah!” The earth mage was stomping and punching. “Yah! Yah!
Yaaaugh!
”

A paving stone broke off the sidewalk and started hovering. The earth mage stomped, stomped, and punched. Three straight punches and the stone floated slowly toward Sandahl, tapping her in the chest.

“Ouch?”

“Fuck!” the earth mage said. He slammed his fists into the ground. “I still have my strength!”

Sandahl smiled and closed the distance. Instead of meeting him head-on she grabbed his wrist and and threw him to the ground. I would have cheered—but the air mage was on me like a whirlwind. She leaped and kicked. There was a flash.

I woke up on the ground. My legs wouldn’t move. She was still coming, so I pushed off the cobbles and rolled just as she stomped the ground.

The fire mage punched and punched, shooting fireballs at Cruix. Cruix sidestepped, ducked, then took one in the face. His eyebrows weren’t scorched.

“You just attacked a dragon with fire,” he said. “I may be shapeshifted, but that doesn’t change who I am.” He slapped her. “Learn your place!”

The fire mage attacked with fiery fists but Cruix met her with hands like claws. They rolled to the ground, slashing and pummelling.

The air mage threw another air ball. I ducked and threw out a fist. To my surprise, it actually connected. “Ow!” she said.