Questing Sucks! Book II (34 page)

Sehn wasn’t sure what was going on, but his head began to lighten as air refused to enter his oxygen-starved lungs. Powerful feelings of
need
began seeping into him. He took massive, heaving gasps while nausea rolled into his stomach. And why? What was the cause of all of this sickness?

“Master!” the Champion shouted; it was one of the first times Sehn had heard him raise his voice. “Stop this at once!”

“The…the curse,” Sehn wheezed, losing his footing and tumbling to his knees. He was barely able to hold himself up. He was dying; emotions poured into him and his head grew fuzzy. “The curse…it’s killing me.”

“No,” the Champion said, firmly, “this is not the curse. Master, you…you are having a panic attack.”

“A…a what?”

“Stop trying to breathe so heavily,” his minion ordered. “Listen to me…Filter out all other thoughts.”

Sehn was in too much agony to care that the Champion had given him an order. His arms gave, and he fell onto his stomach. He rolled onto his back, staring up into the night sky, struggling for air. Why was this happening to him? Through it all, he couldn’t shake the overwhelming notion that this was somehow all of his fault—that if he hadn’t left Nero and Rina behind, none of this would have happened.

“Wh-wh-why?” he managed to croak, desperate for air. “Why?”

“Because,” the Champion whispered, “you have lost control. Ask yourself, master: whom do you fear for more? Yourself or…or the children?”

Immediately, Sehn understood this pain, and the realization nearly crushed his soul. Throughout his life, he’d done countless stupid things and fought with an untold number of people for an untold number of ridiculous reasons. In the first twenty seasons of his life, he’d come close to killing himself more than a dozen times. But through it all, the only one who ever stood to lose was himself. And that, he could handle.

But Nero? Rina? No, not them. Let the world rip out his throat and leave him to bleed to death, but not the children. Sehn knew that, no matter what the world sent his way, he could bear it as long as his two little disciples were okay.

But they were both gone, and he, who was supposed to protect them, had no idea where they were. He was powerless, unable to keep them safe. He had struggled for all he was worth to suppress this fear, but he could no longer deny the facts: Nero had been missing for days, and now Rina was gone, too.

And he didn’t know how to get them back.

“You’re panicking,” the Champion whispered. “You’re…worried you’ll never find them. Or that they are dead. I have not…known you long, master, but in the time we have shared, you have always known what to do next. And now?”

“I don’t know,” Sehn whimpered, wiping his eyes. He grunted when he felt the dampness in his hand. How low would he fall before this was over? He wiped his eyes a second time and managed to meet the Champion’s catlike eyes.

“I don’t know where they are,” he said. “I don’t know who has taken them. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do anymore to get them back. What if…what if they have died? What if they’re not alive anymore?”

“You won’t find out on the floor, master.”

“Can’t you do something?” Sehn pleaded. “Don’t you have some magic for this?”

The Champion shook his head. “I don’t.”

“Please?” Sehn asked again. “Are you sure?”

“You cannot…bargain with me, master. Had I the power to return to you the children…you would have them. Now you must accept that you have lost them—for now.”

“No!” Sehn shouted. “Rina! Nero!”

“Breathe,” the Champion whispered. “Breathe and you might see them again.”

Sehn shook violently while he attempted to calm himself enough to regain his breath. He never imagined something could reduce him to this state—make him feel this vulnerable. Never had he known this fear; at least not for his own life.

“I have to get them back. What if Nero dies? He’s just a little boy. Don’t you understand? He’s only a little boy and they have him, and they will kill him. And Rina is just a small girl. They are innocent. They’re not involved in any of this, and yet they will be killed!”

“You don’t know that. Those are…your fears made into words.”

“What do you know of fear?” Sehn snapped. “You’re not even a person! You’re a fucking…” He stopped. He had gone too far. “I didn’t mean that.”

“I know,” the Champion whispered. “But you are correct: I am not a person. I don’t know what I am.”

Sehn wiped his eyes one last time and awkwardly fought to get back on his feet. After a few failed attempts, he was able to push himself to his knees, and then rise into a standing position. He looked at the Champion, and of all things, he let out a quick, uncontrollable chuckle.

“I’ve just realized something, my minion.”

“Oh?”

Sehn waited for his body to cease shaking before continuing. “I don’t know what I am either.”

“Do you…wish to find out?”

“I do.”

“Then discover your worth. We must…find the children.”

“You’re right.” Slowly, Sehn began to feel more like himself. He hobbled over to the Champion and kicked his minion in the knee. The Champion didn’t
so
much as grunt. His only reaction was a tilt of the head.

“What was…that for?” he asked.

“What do you think, fool? That was punishment for all that body heat of yours, which has made the Great Sehn’s eyes sweat.”

“Oh, that,” his minion whispered. “Right.” More seriously, he asked, “Are you okay now, master?”

“I am. I’m also afraid. But I think I can actually live with that.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.” Sehn took a slow breath. “I just want them to be okay, and every time I think of something happening to them…I can’t handle it.”

“So don’t,” the Champion said.

“I won’t. I will personally devour the souls of anyone who harms Nero or Rina. I know they are out there, and I will find them.”

“What if it means killing the people who have taken her?” the Champion asked. “Are you…ready for that, master?”

Sehn barked a laugh. “What do you take me for? I have destroyed the lives of millions.”

“Let me repeat the question.” The Champion’s voice became a whisper that Sehn had to struggle to hear. “
What if you must kill them
?”

Sehn spoke back in an even quieter whisper; it wasn’t to prevent others from hearing his words, but to prevent himself.

“
It won’t come to that
.”

The Champion bowed his head. “Perhaps you will find…not all convictions hold true.”

With that, he turned around and began walking towards the mayor’s home as if expecting Sehn to follow. To Sehn’s own surprise, he did.

Patrick took a single step into the mayor’s room before swearing loudly. Then he covered his mouth to prevent any more disgusting language from escaping his lips. Too many emotions struck him at once, and he found himself with the sudden urge to sit down. He was exhausted, having been on his feet with little chance to rest in what seemed like days, and now, as he saw the bloodied mess of Mayor Rumpus lying cold on his fancy carpets, Patrick finally allowed himself to snap. Without regard for the soldiers flanking him or those guarding the entrance, he removed his hand and shouted out the sort of vulgarities that only someone like Sehn would use.

“How was this allowed to happen?” he asked when he’d finished, taking a breath. “How did one man slip past an entire regiment of armed guards?”

None of the guards answered, which didn’t surprise Patrick. He didn’t blame them; how could they possibly have any idea? They weren’t trained to defend against magic-based attacks. No, this wasn’t their fault.

Still, Patrick had needed to vent, but with the rush of anger out of his system, he straightened his sweat-stained dress shirt and trousers, then resumed an upright posture. He was a prince, and he needed to look and behave like one, although the “looking” part would require a change of clothing—and hopefully soon.

“So,” said Cah’lia’s voice from behind him. “It’s true: the mayor is dead.” Patrick looked over his shoulder. He nodded at the four guards, who then stepped aside and allowed her and the mage-boy, Kellar, to enter. “I didn’t know him well, but…he didn’t deserve this.”

“No,” Patrick agreed, “he didn’t.”

Patrick bit his lip to keep his anger in check; there was too much at stake for him to give in to his emotions. Nothing seemed to be going his way lately, and things were showing no sign of improving. First, they’d lost the elven boy, and now the human girl was gone as well. Patrick felt lost, no longer able to seize control of even the simplest of things. As a result of his own incompetence, the life of a good man had been lost.

I’m sorry
,
Rumpus
.
I won’t let your death be without reason
.
The kingdom will be saved
.
I promise you this
.

Patrick looked around the room. A pool of blood surrounded the mayor’s body, but the place was otherwise clean and tidy, save for a cabinet that housed weapons, which had been torn open; the various swords and axes were disheveled, as if someone had been sorting through them in a hurry. The window had been destroyed, and there was no sign of Rina in the mansion. Patrick didn’t need to hear any of his guards’ reports to draw a more-or-less accurate picture of what had taken place. His memory of Ghell, combined with a quick, cursory glance of his surroundings was all he needed to see the treachery that had been played on the poor mayor.

It seems that
,
these days
,
honor is a thing for lesser men
,
Patrick thought sadly.

Rumpus was an odd man: no one would dispute such a thing. But, as Patrick had learned during the battle for Hahl, he was also a noble man. He was brave, strong, and he carried himself with honor and dignity. Patrick would see to it that his name would be engraved in the city’s center, and that his family would be provided for until the end of days.

“My prince,” one of his guards called. Patrick could hear the chink of the guard’s armor as the man scrambled into the room.

“What is it?”

“We’ve searched the perimeter again. There’s no sign of the children or the assassin.”

Patrick sighed. “I didn’t expect there would be. There’s no doubt they have made off with both children and are now in hiding, though I think it’s highly unlikely they’ve been able to leave Hahl. I suspect they’re someplace underground, where they will wait until I’m inevitably forced to reopen the city.”

“Then we’ll find them,” Cah’lia said, her voice surprisingly calm. “No matter what, I won’t let anyone hurt Nero or Rina.”

Patrick nodded. He knew what he said next would be critically important. He had to phrase his words with absolute care and caution. If he upset Cah’lia, he was sure that the powerful elven woman wouldn’t hesitate to slit his throat—not when it came to the lives of the children.

“I agree,” Patrick said. “Rescuing the children is now one of my top priorities. But I will need your help to do so.”

“My…help?” Cah’lia asked, frowning. “What kind of request is that? Of course I’ll help. Tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

Patrick held himself still a moment then drew a breath. “What I need is for you and Sehn to continue on to the Pillar of Therril, and from there, I need you to continue making your way to the Pillar of Hope to retrieve the Item we seek.”

Patrick refrained from flinching as Cah’lia’s face darkened and the lids of her eyes lowered. “You’re not asking me what I think you are, are
you?
I hope not, good Prince.”

“Please, listen to me,” Patrick said. “The best way you can help them—the
only
way you can help them—is to continue on to the capital and finish what we have already started. That frees me up to commit all the available resources at my disposal towards finding and rescuing the two children.”

“And I’m supposed to trust that?” Cah’lia asked, a growing heat sliding into her words. “I’m supposed to trust that your people can find them and bring them back?” She pointed at the mayor’s dead body. “So far, I’m not impressed with the results.”

Patrick steadied himself. His knees felt weak, and his eyes begged at him to close and allow his body some rest. But no—there was too much left to be done.

“We will find them, Cah’lia.”

“I hope so. Because until you do, I won’t stop looking. And I have a feeling Sehn will agree with me on that point.”

“Same goes for me,” Kellar said. The boy placed his arm on Cah’lia’s shoulder. “I’m gonna help search, too.”

Patrick walked over to the mayor’s former desk, pulled out a chair, and then took a seat. It was a demonstration of weakness, but it was still far less so than if he’d collapsed mid-conversation. He recited a silent prayer to the Gods and begged forgiveness of them for sitting in the deceased mayor’s chair as though he were taking the man’s place not a day after his death.

Cah’lia walked across the room, heading towards Patrick. She stopped when she passed the mayor, as if forgetting something. Then she knelt down, kissed two of her fingers, and touched them against Mayor Rumpus’s forehead before crossing the rest of the distance over to Patrick. She rested her palms against the desk’s surface, inches from where his own hands rested. To his distress, she dug her nails into the wood while fixing him with a hard, threatening glare.

“Let me make something clear to you right now,” Cah’lia said. She spoke in a whisper, but rather than take the fire out of her words, the softness only managed to add a sense of lethality to her voice. “Understand me and understand me correctly: I am not doing
anything
until I’ve taken my brother and Rina back, and there’s nothing you or anyone else can say to convince me otherwise.”

Patrick met her gaze, refusing to back down. “That’s what they want you to do. For the sake of all that is good, Cah’lia, don’t you see? Don’t you understand?”

“Understand what?”

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

Patrick massaged his face, circling his hands over his eyes, nose, and mouth. Gods, his body needed rest. But he couldn’t allow his focus to dwindle—not when dealing with such an important matter. If it came to it, he would not shy away from using force to bring Sehn to the capital. He would do everything possible to avoid killing Cah’lia in the process, but even that, too, he would see done if the situation called for it. But for now, he would not give up on trying to talk sense into the woman and avoiding all the guilt and nastiness that came with the alternative measure.

It all depends on Cah’lia and Cah’lia alone
.

Patrick understood the practical truth of things. Even if he were not just the prince of the Kingdom of the Seven Pillars but also the prince of the entire world, one thing would not change: he, personally, had less than no chance of convincing Sehn to continue with him towards the Item. Hell, in a life-or-death situation, Patrick doubted he could convince Sehn just to pass him a cup of water.

But Cah’lia? Now
that
was a different story. The elven woman was the key to this, which was why Patrick had asked Chief Suhn to grant her leave to come along in the first place. If she declined to assist him, then Patrick would have to use force to get Sehn to cooperate, and with that would come an additional host of problems. No, he needed to get Cah’lia to see reason. It was the best way to move forward.

“Cah’lia,” Patrick began, “why do you think the children have been kidnapped?”

Cah’lia shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do. You
do
know, but you refuse to say it because you know it will mean I’m right.”

“That’s not true!”

“Then tell me: why do you think they have kidnapped the children?”

Patrick watched as a lump formed in Cah’lia’s throat. She swallowed and then grimaced as if tasting poison. “It’s most likely to make us cooperate,” she admitted. “It’s to have leverage over us, obviously.”

“Yes, but why?” Patrick asked. “What do you possibly have that they could even want?”

“Our lives. If Sehn is what you say he is, then our enemies want him out of the way. The children will be used to lure him out so they can kill him.”

Patrick opened his mouth to respond, but Kellar surprised him and beat him to it. “No, Cah’lia,” the mage-boy said. “Patrick’s got a point.”

“What do you mean?” Cah’lia asked, spinning her head around to look in his direction.

Kellar scratched his hair. “Well, just from what we saw ourselves, Archmage Duncan and the others obviously don’t want him dead. Think about it: Duncan could’ve killed you two at any time while he had us locked up, and we heard that Ghell guy say he needed Sehn alive.”

Patrick concealed a smile. He didn’t count on the boy aiding him in making his point. Perhaps if all else failed, Kellar could be the one to convince Cah’lia that the right choice was to retrieve the Item in the Pillar of Hope.

“I’m sure you can connect the dots here,” Patrick said after a moment of quiet. “They need Sehn for something. As for what, your guess is as good as mine is. But it’s clear that Sehn’s not the cooperating type, and the enemy must realize this. They will no doubt resort to any means to make him cooperate. If their only goal was to see him dead, I have a feeling that he’d already
be
dead.”

Cah’lia trembled, her shoulder muscles tightening. “So they’re going to use the children to force Sehn into doing their bidding?”

Patrick nodded. “Exactly, which is the reason why you two need to leave Hahl at once and allow me to handle rescuing the children. I’ll use my own resources to get them back.”

Patrick prayed his words had sunk in. He could see by the look in Cah’lia’s eyes that her mind was hard at work processing everything he had told her. But his hopes were dashed when, after a few seconds of silence, she shook her head.

“I can’t do that. I’m sorry, but I just can’t. We’re not going anywhere until we find them.”

This was not something Patrick wanted to hear. He bit his own lip to prevent himself from shouting. “You’re being a fool. You’re making a mistake. If the Hawk gets his hands on—”

Patrick held his tongue as he spotted a group of priests from Raurum’s temple entering the room. The white-robed men said a few prayers, retrieved the mayor’s body, and then carried him outside. Patrick had forgotten he’d summoned them, but he said nothing while they saw to the mayor’s body. He waited for them to leave before allowing the discussion to resume.

Before he could continue where he’d left off, Mistress Orellia showed up with Shina trailing anxiously behind her. The two had apparently found time to change clothing, and now both wore fresh robes emblazoned with the deceased-mayor’s emblem on the cufflinks: two swords crossed together over a pit of fire. Orellia cast Patrick a bemused look.

“You two don’t seem to be getting along very well,” she said. “Is everything all right?”

Patrick wasn’t sure what she meant, but then he realized that Cah’lia was still leaning over the desk with her nails dug into the wood, and Patrick was still sitting on the edge of his chair, unflinching.

“Ah, that.”

Patrick tried to answer, but Cah’lia lifted her hands off the desk, spun around, and began recounting a highly biased version of the tale to Orellia and Shina. In her version, Patrick was some heartless coward who cared more about achieving power than saving the lives of children. It was difficult for Patrick to listen to her skewed retelling of events, but he was too exhausted to interrupt her.

“And
that’s
why I’m furious,” Cah’lia said, pointing behind her at Patrick. “He wants us to forget about the children and move on.”

“That is
not
what I said!” Patrick snapped, unable to stop himself from raising his voice. “I’m merely suggesting that the best course of action is to keep the Hawk from getting his hands on either of the final two Items. If we don’t, we’re all dead anyway.”