Malediction (Scars of the Sundering Book 1) (4 page)

He raised
his mug. "Welcome home! How did helping the dwarves work out for
you?"

"You
remember Zarach, don't you Kale?" Delilah smiled at her brother and took
his hand. With his free hand, Kale reached over to the plate of sausages and
grabbed one.

"Watch
out! They're hot!" Delilah tried to smack Kale's hand away, but he snatched
up a sausage before she could.

"They're
not so hot." Kale barely felt any heat coming from the sausage and bit
into it. Grease spurted out of the end of the sausage and ran down his chin,
dripping onto the table.

He felt
Delilah's eyes on him. Zarach waved one of the servers over and pushed a mug of
ale toward Kale. "Are you all right?"

Kale
shrugged, chewing on the savory meat. "Watched Pancras kill hundreds of
ghouls, ran from a demon, got tossed through a chaos rift, you know, just
regular, boring day."

His sister
stared at him. "You… were tossed through a chaos rift? What
happened?"

Kale regaled
them with the story of finding the rift and fighting off the aberrations as
Pancras closed the rift and killed the bloodmaw. "We never did find out
what happened to the shadow demon. Maybe it got sucked back through the
rift."

Delilah
nodded. "That's possible. Maybe it's out there still, pestering the
dwarves."

"Maybe."
Kale hoped it didn't follow them home. He grimaced and arched his back. He felt
sore and stiff, probably from hitting the wall.
At least the food is good.
He examined the mug of ale Zarach gave him. He sniffed it and then took a sip.
To his surprise, it was not dwarven ale; rather, it tasted like ale humans
brewed. Years of drinking that fermented mushroom juice, reminiscent of soggy,
moldy paper which the dwarves called ale, pained his palate so that indulging
in something that tasted crisp, bready, and refreshing was like seeing rays of
sunshine after a week-long storm.

Stabbing
pain shot through Kale's head. He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered,
stifling his reaction in front of Zarach. He felt his sister grab his hand
again.

"Kale,
are you sure you're okay? What's wrong?"

He shook his
head. "It's nothing. Nothing. Just sore from getting tossed around."
When he opened his eyes, the auras were gone, but his throat and lungs burned
as he inhaled.

"Nothing,
my butt. You're ashen and panting." Delilah grabbed her staff. Wisps of
blue aether swirled around her. "
Ageliofedros
." A fuzzy blue
boggin, little more than an orb of teeth with legs, popped into existence on
the table. Delilah snapped her fingers in front of it. "Fetch Jared. Tell
him my brother is sick."

The boggin
yipped, hopped off the table, and ran out of the pub. Kale shook his head.
"I don't need a healer. I just need to rest. And food. More food." He
grabbed another sausage.

Kale decided
to change the subject. His sister's favorite topic was often herself. "So,
what's with you two?"

"We're
just enjoying a drink together." Delilah set down her staff.

"And
sausages, huh?" Kale ate another one. "Was this your idea,
Zarach?"

Zarach's
eyes flicked from Kale to Delilah. His mouth opened and closed and then opened
and closed again wordlessly. He seemed unsure what to say. Delilah reached over
and grabbed Kale's arm. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Why?
Why?" Kale felt a flash of anger toward his sister. "I… you—"
Another pain lanced through his head. He dropped the sausage and clutched at
his face. It felt as if someone drove a sword into his skull. Then, as quickly
as it was upon him, the pain disappeared. Kale found himself panting and stared
up from the floor at his sister, who crouched over him.

"Hey."

"Kale!"
Delilah picked up his head and cradled it.

"Get
off me! Help me up!" Kale struggled to his feet. Zarach and Delilah helped
him into the chair. The Bloody Spike was quieter than he remembered, and he
looked around, noticing for the first time he was the center of attention.

"I'm
okay. The pain's gone. Sorry about that. I don't know what's happening."

"That's
why I called Jared." Delilah pulled her chair next to Kale's, keeping a
firm hold on his arm. Kale nodded.
Was I mad at her? Why was I mad at her?

"You
don't look well." Zarach stood next to Delilah. "Maybe I should go
see what's keeping Jared."

Kale shook
his head. "No, it's only been a few minutes. Sit down. I'm sorry if I said
anything that—"

"No,
it's fine. I know you and your sister are close."

"What's
all this then?" Speaking Drak, a human voice, cut through the silence of
The Bloody Spike. Kale was relieved everyone's attention turned toward the
entrance. Two robed, bearded humans approached them, one's beard grey-streaked
blond, the other shaggy and brown.

Delilah
reached for her staff, but it was out of reach. Zarach grabbed it and passed it
to her. "What are humans doing here?"

"We're
from the Arcane University. We saw your messenger, a clever, if unorthodox
conjuration." The brown-bearded human scratched his chin and narrowed his
eyes. "Where did you learn it?"

"Not
from the Arcane University, hmm?" The other human learned forward and
stared at Delilah.

"No,
I've lived here all my life." The eye sockets of Delilah's staff glowed
blue, and Kale noticed thin tendrils of aether forming around it. "I
learned from books, scrolls, and relics left behind by people like you who used
to invade our homes and slaughter our people."

"Natural
talent?" Brown Beard cocked an eyebrow and glanced at Blond Beard.
"Impressive but not unheard of among draks."

"It
falls under the third statute of the Rose Concordat as enacted by Gerold the
Craven. You know, The Manless will want his code enforced."

Kale looked
from human to human. He had neither heard of the Rose Concordat nor the Craven
Mage. He glanced over at his sister. She watched the men through narrowed eyes,
her teeth bared.

"We're
not beholden to your laws, no matter where you're from."

Blond Beard
shook his head. "All practitioners of the arcane arts are beholden to the
Rose Concordat. It is what enables us to coexist with the Slayers. To be a
renegade, is to always be hunted."

Brown Beard
nodded in agreement. "The archmage will show lenience toward you, of
course, since your ability is natural and he has a soft spot for dragon
kin." He ran his fingers through his beard. "Why, I bet he would
allow this drak to simply begin paying dues from this point forward and take
the oath."

Delilah
tapped the butt of her staff on the ground. "I'm not taking any
oath."

"Indeed?"
Brown Beard cocked his eyebrow. "Do you know the minotaur Pancras?"

Kale
regarded his sister. She nodded.
What does Pancras have to do with all this?

"Speak
to him. He will be traveling to Muncifer very soon to face his tribunal for
negligence of his oath. I suggest you accompany him."

Blond Beard
stood up straight and nodded. "It would be most unfortunate if we had to
enter you into the rolls of the renegades. Once the Slayers hunt you, there are
no second chances."

Kale heard
the sound of leathery scales sliding across the floor behind him. Suri, the
medusa who ran The Bloody Spike and snake-haired consort of Sarvesh, slithered
up to the two men.

"How
dare you come into my establishment and threaten one of my customers!" She
reached up and toyed with the chain holding her veil in place, a subtle threat
Kale knew from experience she carried out on unruly patrons.

The two men
bowed to Suri. Brown Beard spread his hands. "We offer no threat. We
suspected this drak was unaware of the Slayers and the Arcane University's
renewed position on renegades. We sought to educate and encourage, not
threaten."

Blond Beard
nodded at his companion and then at Delilah. "As we said, if you present
yourself at Pancras's tribunal, we can resolve this with a minimum of fuss. We
are all comrades, we who weave the mystical fabric of the arcane. There is no
reason for hostility between us."

Brown Beard
bowed again. "We shall take our leave. We must be on our way to Celtangate
in the morning."

They turned
in unison and left. Suri shook her head. "What was that all about,
anyway?"

Kale slumped
in his chair as Jared jogged into The Bloody Spike, carrying his satchel of
herbs and medicines.
This relaxing evening is anything but.

* * *

The next
morning, Delilah visited Pancras to tell of her encounter with the two wizards.
She berated him for not letting Kale and her know about his predicament.
"When were you going to tell us? Or were you just going to leave without
saying goodbye?"

The
necromancer puttered about his laboratory, organizing the things he wanted to
take with him on his journey and figuring out what to do with the things he
must leave behind. He always dabbled in alchemy, but since he stopped creating
undead all those years ago, his collection of instruments and reagents more
than doubled. Most of it was not suitable for travel, and he wasn't sure if
bringing any of it at all would even be worthwhile.

Sighing,
Pancras leafed through his scrolls. "It was late. I was tired, tapped out.
After telling Sarvesh about what happened under Ironkrag and dealing with those
humans, I came straight back here and went to sleep." He smiled at
Delilah. "Believe me. It never crossed my mind to leave without saying
goodbye. Anything I can do to delay my departure is welcome."

Delilah
placed a hand on her hip and pointed her staff at Pancras. "Ever thought
of not going?"

Yes. For a
moment.
"Not really, no. It's not worth the trouble the Slayers would
bring here were I branded a renegade."

"The
city would band together for you." Delilah tapped the butt of her staff
against the floor. "For us. We wouldn't stand alone."

"And
they would die for us because we didn't pay a fine." Pancras shook his
head and pulled three scrolls out of the pile. He carried them over to a small
chest and placed them inside. "No, no, I will not ask anyone to do that
for me. Nor should you. It is unfortunate they discovered you. I hoped you
would be spared the petty tribulations of the Arcane University and the Mage’s
Guild, but what is done is done. We must deal with it."

"Do you
really think they would send these Slayers after us? Just for a bit of
coin?"

"There
was a time when I would have said no. That's why I haven't paid in so long. I
don't know anything about this Manless chap, the new archmage. I am not willing
to call his bluff."

Delilah
sighed. "I guess I need to go with you, then. How far away is Muncifer?"

Digging
around in a trunk, Pancras located an object that would help him on his
journey: a teardrop-shaped lodestone suspended from a string. "A long way.
A couple of months over land if we can secure some horses or mules. If we have
to walk the entire way?" He shook his head. "We'll never get there on
time."

"When
are we leaving then? Today?"

Pancras
shook his head. "No, I need to get my affairs in order. Probably
tomorrow." He sighed. He did not want to set a departure date. It seemed
too final.

"I'll
be ready." Delilah left her friend to his packing. He took stock of his
beakers and decanters, his jars of reagents, boxes of scrolls, and his
wardrobe. He would have to leave behind all of it. He shuffled through his
robes. They were heavy enough that he wouldn't be able to bring more than one
or two extra sets. Fingering the gold trim on his purple robes, he decided to
take the dark malachite robes with silver trim for daily wear. The black and
silver and purple and gold ones would do for more formal occasions.
Will I
ever see my possessions again? It's a long way to go.

* * *

Delilah
stomped past the guards at the entrance of the minotaur labyrinth where Pancras
lived.
Stupid humans and their stupid rules. Who are they to dictate rules
to us?
She understood his point of view, though. He was right; the guards
and warriors of Drak-Anor would fight Slayers who came for the two of them, and
neither one of them had the right to ask them to risk death for them. She
thought they could evade these Slayers indefinitely but decided to defer to
Pancras's judgment.

Her brother
was her more immediate concern. His erratic behavior and pallid scales were the
obvious result of being tossed through a chaos rift, but she wanted to make
sure he would be all right before she left him.

Delilah and
Kale did not spend much time apart, and the thought of leaving her brother for
months twisted her stomach into knots. She moved toward the city market, past
The Bloody Spike, and past the series of caverns where the draks made their
homes, although the twins had not lived with the other draks for most of their
lives. They were cast out of their own clan for superstitious nonsense
regarding their status as twins hatched from the same egg.