Questing Sucks! Book II (15 page)

He practically shoved the Champion out of the doors leading to the estate’s entrance, while Rina chided him and waved a scolding finger, rambling about how he should show more “patience.” This, of course, was nonsense. Nero had plenty of patience—at least under normal circumstances, but these were far from normal. Nero had convinced himself that there was exactly one single toy left in all of Hahl—if not the entire world—only moments from having a rich, greedy noble’s child snatch it away forever.

Once outside, Nero noted that the streets of Hahl were back to their full activity. Nero, Wolly, Cah’lia, and Rina had been one of the first groups to reenter the city after it’d been declared safe, following the official surrender by the black-armored soldiers. Now, Hahl was as Nero remembered it upon entering; large, horse-led wagons loaded to full capacity struggled to travel down the packed roads. Annoyed riders shouted down at equally annoyed pedestrians, who reluctantly stood aside after having whips threateningly crackle in the air above them.

The estate was located on the highest-income block in the political district, or whatever that meant—Nero didn’t understand things like politics, but he remembered Patrick explaining it to his sister before their trip to the zoo.

Nero followed behind Rina. He stretched his arms behind his neck and took slow breaths, trying to calm his nerves and the desire to run off. It wasn’t that Nero wanted to disobey Champy—he really didn’t—but sometimes his impulses were too hard to ignore. Cah’lia had always said he was a free spirit, and Nero tended to agree.

His mood brightened as they made their way through a narrow underpass, letting out into a wide, square-shaped shopping plaza with merchant kiosks around all four corners and arrayed within mere inches of one another. Some had red banners with large letters advertising their wares, while others went so far as to offer free product samples of everything from food, to soaps and scented napkins. Nero resisted the urge to dash off at the first sight of toys; it wasn’t easy. As if expecting him to flee, Rina grabbed his wrist and squeezed.

“You better not run way,” she said. “Cah’lia told Rina she can beat you up if you act
bad
.”

Nero tugged his arm free and glared at her. “Na-uh. She didn’t say that.”

“Yes she did.”

“Well…even if she did, it doesn’t matter. I’m being good.” Nero swallowed a nervous lump in his throat. “But just to make sure, you should hold my hand again anyway.”

Rina blushed. “Y-you’re right. But just to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

The Champion came to an abrupt halt. He pointed towards a booth in the bottom-left corner of the square. When he spoke, his voice was in his usual dark whisper. “I think…that’s what you’re looking for, boy.”

Nero looked to where he pointed. He felt his eyes widen and his heart drum against his chest. There wasn’t just one or two left—there were hundreds of them; the rare, dwarven-made toy that rumors said were only created in a limited edition and so hard to get that only a hundred kids in the entire world had them, and yet here they were, so many of them packed away into little boxes that it was possible not even half of them would sell out. Oh well. He still wanted them. In fact, he drooled as if the little plastic figurines were roasted pork.

“Buy them—buy all of them!” he shouted.

The Champion’s bottom lip twitched in what Nero knew was the closest he allowed himself to come to a smile. “You can have two, Nero. And Rina can have one as well.”

Nero was shocked. Not because he was also going to buy Rina one instead of buying Nero three—something that Sehn would most certainly hear about later—but because he’d used their names. Except for a few rare occasions, he usually called them “boy” or “girl.”

Nero skipped over to the booth with Rina.
Life isn’t so bad
,
he thought, feeling Rina’s hand in his own. Things were finally looking up for Nero. He had his toys, his human girl, and Sehn’s new super-powerful minion as a friend. Though he did notice the way Rina crossed one foot over the other and twiddled her thumbs whenever she looked at Champy. He also bitterly recalled the two playing with the dwarven throw and catch.

I’m gonna have to talk to him later about messing with my girl
,
Nero thought.
Only I’m allowed to play games with Rina
.
Not him
!

Before anyone could spot him, Ghell pulled the curtains closed around the inn window overlooking one of Hahl’s shopping plazas. He felt the intensity of his assassins’ eyes burning into his back. He spun around.

“They’re here. They’re actually here!”

This would be a glorious day for Ghell. Not only would he redeem himself in the eyes of his master, but he’d get to slowly, sensually, and carefully torture the loved ones of the elf who’d sent him to his grave.
Or tried to
,
he amended. Try as she might, that elven woman, Cah’lia, she had
not
sent Ghell to his death—at least not for long.

The inn room was small, but it mattered little to Ghell. His five Shinsarian assassins had been tracking the little ones for two days, careful to remain hidden while waiting for the opportunity to strike. Now they had it. It was close to nightfall, and by Ghell’s estimation, his assassins would have the perfect moment to make their move as the two little ones—and their traitorous dog of a guardian!—ventured back to the idiot mayor’s home.

Ghell took in the five Shinsarians. They were a coldblooded bunch, concealed beneath their black robes, their eyes filled with nothing but emptiness. There was something odd about them, something Ghell couldn’t put a finger on. Despite being right in front of him, the men seemed somewhat transparent, like mist.

“As much as I’d like to kill him myself, I want you five to kill the Champion,” Ghell said. “But please, make every attempt to bring the children to me alive. The Hawk needs them.” He sighed. “But, of course, if it’s between killing them or letting them escape, I want you to make the kill. I’ll deal with the consequences of failure if I must.”

The Shinsarian murderers were men of few words, but when they did speak, Ghell could never be sure of who said what.

“As you wish,” one of them said. Ghell wanted to guess that this time it was the middle of the five who was the speaker, but it could just have easily been the leftmost. The voice was soft, but firm. “Please close your eyes and count to three.”

Ghell did as instructed, knowing better than to argue with his hired men. “One…two…”

Ghell didn’t bother going past two. Truthfully, there was no point in continuing past one. All it took was the blink of the eye, and the five men would vanish. It was said that the Shinsarians killed any who witnessed them engage in their mystic shadow arts, and with the fingers of a literal death God already wrapped around his neck, Ghell had no desire to add world-class assassins to the list of men threatening his life.

A small puff of smoke remained in the spot where the five men had vanished. Ghell felt a powerful sensation in his loins. Revenge was bitterer than the blackest coffee, and sweeter than the kiss of a wench, and it was far past time Ghell had some of both—along with some revenge.

Rina stood in front of Nero as he again tried to slip by her. He stepped to the left, attempting to go around, so she held out her arms and refused to let him pass. Rina reflected on the way Mistress Cah’lia handled Sehn, and now she figured it was her job to do the same with Nero. She wouldn’t let him go until he showed some basic manners.

She cleared her throat. “What does Nero say for his new things?”

Nero grumbled to himself and then whispered, “Thank you, Champy.”

The Champion nodded, but said nothing. Nero set his eyes back on Rina. “
Now
can we go so I can play with my new stuff?”

Rina lowered her arms and stepped aside. Since Mistress Cah’lia wasn’t around, Rina felt it was her job to make sure Nero didn’t misbehave. That included showing proper manners, not getting into trouble, and—most importantly—not running off to play with another little human girl their age. Several minutes prior, Nero’s eyes had lit up when he spotted a young curly-haired girl walking alongside her mother on the other end of the square.

Rina knows she is definitely a spy
.
That’s the only reason she doesn’t want Nero to say hi to her
.

Cah’lia meant everything to Rina; Sehn did too, but Mistress Cah’lia was the one whom Rina wanted to be like when she got older. So she’d taken to acting like the elven woman, who she now considered her friend, sister, and mother—all in one.

After Nero had bought his toys, the Champion had taken the three of them for an afternoon meal at a small shop that sold fresh fruit. They were still in the market square, the sky mostly dark save for a streak of orange, which dimmed as the day ended. The temperature cooled, adding a breezy comfort to the air.

Most of the businesses were closing for the night. The majority of merchants were locking up their wares and preparing to go home. Unlike what Rina remembered of Koringrath, the city of Hahl was secure enough that many left their merchandise on their booths at night, entrusting the safety of their valuables to the city guard.

“Come,” the Champion whispered, “the Prince will be expecting us back soon.”

Nero, who at the time was rifling through his toy-filled bag, gave the Champion a sour look. “Gimme a minute, okay? I wanna make sure they gave me the right toys.”

“Nero has done that several times now,” Rina said. “And he can do it more when he gets back.”

Nero curled his lips but followed along as the Champion led them out of the square and through the connecting street that ran halfway back to the mayor’s home. This particular marketplace wasn’t far from the mayor’s estate, but it was still a nice walk, and Rina enjoyed the fresh air; it invigorated her.

She never imagined she’d be able to do so many exciting things with so many fun people. Rina had hope now; she had dreams, and things she wanted to do with her life. As they walked down a wide street—mostly empty now that the sun had set—Rina glanced up at a woman knitting under the moonlight on the balcony of her two-story home. The elderly woman smiled down at Rina, who returned a wave.

Rina can have a home too
,
she realized.
If she makes money
,
she can have her own things like everyone else
.

Even having spent months away from her slaver, the thought still seemed foreign to her: homes, clothing, and everything in between—these were things that a person could call their own if they were free to do so. The idea of a future was both shocking and comforting. Rina pictured herself in one of the many homes that lined both sides of the street. It would be her own little castle, and no one could tell her what to do.

“Champy?” Rina asked.

He glanced down at her from where she walked at his side. “Yes?”

“Are you free like Rina?”

The Champion stopped short, and Nero growled as he bumped into him. The Champion paused, as if considering the question, while Rina worried she’d upset him. Finally, he said, “I’m only as free as the world lets me be.”

“What’s that mean?” asked Nero, rubbing his head. “I thought you had to do whatever Sehn tells you to.”

“No. I do as the master wishes only out of tradition, but in practicality, he has set me free. When I served my last master, the Hawk, I obeyed through force of will, much as I have for many who’ve come before. But when the elf, Sehn, defeated me in combat, he broke more than just my nose—he destroyed the bonds that rob me of my will. He has that power, and though I believe he acted subconsciously, it was his choice to set me free. Yet, having been created by the Gods themselves to serve, I find myself lost at what to do with my newfound freedom.”

A thought came to Rina. Cah’lia had taught her to be observant and careful, and something about Champy being free bothered her.

“Does that mean you don’t really have to protect us? Rina knows you hurt lots of people once before, but you’d…you’d never hurt Rina and Nero, right?”

As if in answer to her question, the Champion’s eyes widened and he drew his sword, so quickly that the sound of his blade leaving the sheath caused Rina’s heart to skip a beat. Nero took a reflexive step backwards and fell on his butt. The Champion let out a violent growl, and he raised his blade as if to strike.

“H-hey, stop fooling around,” Nero said. “That isn’t funny.”

The Champion gave Rina a rough shove, sending her to the ground next to Nero. But why? What was happening? Rina tried to ask, but the Champion, deviating from his usual whisper, shouted, “Stay low to the ground, children!”

Why is Champy asking us to—
?

The Champion swung his blade five times in rapid succession. The blade lit up as five sparks danced around the tip of his weapon, followed by a loud ring as something bounced against his sword. Rina saw objects falling off the blade—they were circular, pointy, and looked capable of serious harm if they hit the neck.

Nero tried to stand up, but Rina, sensing danger, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back down.

“What’s happening, Rina?”

“Rina doesn’t know. Shh, Nero! Do as Champy says.”

There was a stretch of silence that seemed to last forever. During this time, the Champion held his blade high and protectively circled around Nero and Rina, darting his head in every direction, likely searching for whoever had thrown the circular, sharp objects. The only sounds were the chirp of crickets, the light patter from a water fountain across the street, and the occasional click as the Champion’s boot touched down on the pavement while he circled Rina and Nero. There were a few citizens still on the street, but the moment they caught sight of the Champion they were quick to vacate the area, leaving the street desolate save for a few curious onlookers from second-story balconies.

Rina held Nero close, fearing the elven boy would do something stupid, like try to help Champy and put himself in danger. Rina hoped the city guard would arrive soon. Where were they, anyway?

The Champion inhaled sharply, and then with the same impressive speed, he swung his blade again, deflecting more of the thrown weapons that traveled too fast for Rina to follow their movement. There was another series of clangs and sparks, followed by a softer thud as the projectiles were again deflected and harmlessly settled on the ground.

“Who attacks us?” the Champion whispered. “Show yourself.”

For a moment, Rina thought she was hallucinating. A violent flash of light lit up the surrounding area. Then, five pillars of smoke, each the size and width of an adult male, formed in a semicircle around the Champion.

The smoke solidified, its misty appearance taking the form of cloth before fading entirely, leaving only five men covered from head to toe by black robes standing in place of where the smoke had been. They carried curved swords, which they leveled against the Champion.

Rina had no idea who these people were, but she knew one thing—they meant trouble, and much like the Champion, they preferred to take action rather than speak, because neither he nor the black-clad strangers bothered to mouth a single word before going at it.

The Champion attacked first. He dashed forward and swung his blade down on the one closest to him. The robed man raised his own weapon up high to block, and then twisted his wrist, attempting to use the curved nature of the blade to pry the Champion’s own weapon free.

Rina grabbed Nero’s arm and pulled. “We need to go!”

“But what about Champy?”

“Nero must know he can handle himself. But Rina and Nero must go before we get hurt.”

“Listen to her!” the Champion shouted, struggling with the first robed man. He brought up his foot and kicked his attacker in the chest, just as the other four surrounded him and tried to score a killing blow.

Rina held Nero’s hand and ran with him to the end of the street. She knew that the mayor’s home would only be a few minutes’ sprint. She almost stumbled over a loose stone brick in the pavement, but she quickly regained her footing, thanks to Nero, who steadied her.

Oddly, all the torches on the street had been extinguished, making it difficult to navigate in the dark. Rina ran as fast as her legs would carry her, panting as homes and small businesses whirled by her on each side of the street.

As she dragged Nero away from the fight, she peeked behind her at the other end of the street, where the Champion attempted to stave off the attackers. He was on the defensive, blocking each strike aimed at him from the black-robed men, whoever they were. One thing was certain: Champy was fast—faster than all of them. Despite being outnumbered four to one, he managed to raise his blade for a parry each time one of the four robed men took a swing at him.

The Champion whispered something, audible even from so far away. The ground cracked underneath the feet of each of the four black-clad men. Rocklike objects in the shape of a human hand exploded out of the ground like rising corpses. They grabbed at the feet of the attackers, holding the four in place.

Four
?
Rina thought.
Rina remembers there being five
.

Her heart drummed in her chest as another flash of light lit the area in front of her, followed by a pillar of smoke that resolved itself into the form of one of the missing black-robed men. His curved sword was already in hand, and he took a threatening step towards them.

Rina tried to scream, but her voice refused to work. “Move!” Nero shouted. He pushed her out of the way, and as Rina fell, she spotted Nero, his hand extended, aiming at the robed man.

“
Remmos Salas
!”

Nero wailed in agony as the fireball left his hand, scorching his fingers. The robed man’s eyes were the only visible portion of his face, and Rina saw them widen in surprise as the little elven boy hurled magic at him.

The robed man whispered something, loudly enough to hear his gravelly voice, but not enough to make out the words. Nero’s ball of flame approached to within an inch of the robed man’s face and then stopped. For a brief instant, a blue, wall-like field of electricity appeared just in front of the man’s eyes. It buzzed and crackled, and then the flame vanished in place of a quickly fading puff of smoke. The assassin leapt towards Nero and raised his blade to strike.

Rina managed to find her voice. “Champy!” she cried. “Over here!”

The Champion, who was only a moment away from killing one of the rock-shackled men, let out a thundering roar. It was a loud, dragon-like cry that caused the robed man in front of Nero to hesitate. Without a doubt, every citizen in Hahl would’ve both heard and remembered the Champion’s stomach-churning wail. Rina recalled hearing it from all the way down the muddy road leading to the Kingdom’s Pillar of Therril. Back then, it had terrified her; now, it was the battle cry of their savior.

The Champion shouted words Rina didn’t know, and again the pavement under the robed man’s feet cracked. This time, rather than a hand, a sharp pike burst forth from the ground, one that would impale Nero’s attacker and leave him skewered like a piece of meat on a stick.

The pike connected, but rather than die in a bloody mess, there was the now familiar flash of light as the robed man grabbed Nero and disappeared, taking the elven boy with him. He reappeared next to his four identical friends, who were now standing together on the complete opposite end of the block near the water fountain.

“Nero!” both Rina and the Champion shouted in unison.

It was hard to tell from this distance, but one of the men seemed to be grinning. A voice, spoken in an ever-present whisper, much as the Champion was capable, said, “We’re coming back for you, girl.”

The Champion rushed forward. He only made it a quarter of the way before, in one final flash of light, the five black-clad assassins vanished, leaving nothing to remember them by save for a rapidly vanishing column of smoke and a shopping bag filled with toys.

“N-Nero!” Rina cried. “Nero!”

The Champion continued to rush towards the smoke, as frantic as Rina had ever seen him. He dashed around the water fountain, circling it several times, but Rina knew it was useless. Whoever those men were, they had taken Nero. He was gone.

“Nero,” she moaned.