The Unwilling Accomplice (Book 5) (9 page)

BOOK: The Unwilling Accomplice (Book 5)
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CHAPTER 10

 

While Ned and Fred had their conversation with Martley, Percy retread the road they had taken from the port. He strode down the cart path and back to Captain Lee's ship. There was a large pile of bee boxes on the dock, two dozen in total, and Captain Lee himself stood beside his cargo.

The captain turned at the sound of Percy's boots on the dock boards and smiled at the young man. "What can I do for you, young Percy?" he wondered.

Percy's face was grave. "You know why I've come here," he returned.

Captain Lee chuckled. "Perhaps I do, but wouldn't you want to speak it over a glass of ale? The elves aren't great at making liquor, but the imports that come off these ships are some of the finest in the world."

"Very well," Percy grudgingly agreed.

The captain threw his arm over Percy's shoulders and turned them toward the row of buildings along the peers. "Come, Percy, and let us enjoy the bountiful harvest that is the drink of Crutchen," the captain invited him.

Percy smiled and bowed his head. "I am your student in the art of drinking," he returned.

"Good, then let us to class!"

The captain guided Percy to one of the bars, a building hardly better than a shack. There were a few front windows on both its ground and upper floors, but those were covered in dust from the cart traffic that passed by continuously. The paint was peeled from the wooden slats that made up the walls, and there was a worn sign above the centered door. It read The Wild Mermaid.

"I'm surprised the elves allow such an establishment," Percy commented.

"Ransan turns a blind eye when he takes a profit," Captain Lee explained. He led Percy inside, and the interior was as rough as the exterior.

The walls were blackened with countless decades of smoke, and the round tables were covered in grimy clothes. The single room was poorly lit with candles, and the captain took a table in a corner so dark Percy had trouble finding a chair. He fumbled for the top of a chair and seated himself, but his stiff manner showed he wasn't looking forward to this conversation.

The captain leaned back in his own chair and chuckled. "You're as tense as a freshly-hewn board. I won't tell your secret to anyone," he promised.

"My secret?" Percy questioned him.

The captain nodded. "That you have done more than touch the Region Stones. Even now you have several pieces of different stones on your person. I can feel their power pulsing around you," the captain told him.

Percy's lips pursed together and he leaned away from the man. "And what might I have to trade for this secret keeping?"

"Your allegiance, as your father did before you," the captain replied.

"My father? What do you know of him?" Percy asked him.

The captain smirked and set his hand on the table. The ring on his finger glistened even in the weak light. "Is that familiar to you? I'm sure you have the one that belonged to your father," the captain commented. Percy smirked and pulled out the ring he had pulled from his father's severed hand after the battle at Tramadore. He gripped it tightly in his hand, and the captain chuckled. "There's little use holding onto it as anything other than a memento. The power is gone, destroyed with the army beneath Tramadore," he told the young man.

Percy sneered at the worthless trinket and tossed the ring. It clattered beside the captain's ring and he leaned forward. "So I may safely assume your master is-" The captain clapped his hand over the young man's mouth and scowled at him.

"Don't speak his name so easily, boy," the captain warned him. He slid his hand off and the smile slipped back onto his face. "But as for your question, he is my master, and yours, if you hope to find your answers."

"And what are my questions?" Percy wondered.

"You want to know if those stones still have power, and if that power can still be used," the captain mused. Percy's lips turned down, and the captain chuckled. "You're a simple book to read like your father. The Master saw through him easily enough."

"I am not my father. I will succeed in my plans to rule the southern regions," Percy objected.

The captain smirked. "Not without those stones, and nobody can tell you how to work them except the Master. That is, unless you're going to ask your friends. I'm sure Edwin would be interested to know you've been keeping secrets from him, and does your moralistic assassin know of your deceit?"

Percy frowned. "He suspects, but he won't act until he's confident something is amiss." His eyes brushed over the captain's smiling face, and he leaned forward. "But what of the stones? I have read in books that magical items retain at least a small portion of their magic after they are broken, and the elves suspect as much themselves. Are these an exception?"

"Show me one," the captain demanded. Percy cautiously pulled the piece of the Caston Region Stone from his pocket and handed it to his companion. The captain turned the rock over in his hands and smirked. "This is no exception. On the contrary, the elves have every reason to fear these stones. There is quite a bit of magic left in it, though with such original power that isn't surprising." As though to prove his point the stone glowed softly in his hand, but the light was quickly extinguished to avoid attracting attention. "See? It reacts to what little magic I contain."

"But can it be used in any way by a person with no castoring abilities?" Percy asked him.

"Yes, with the right skill and incantations," the captain replied. He handed back the stone and Percy discreetly pocketed the item.

Percy smirked. "I may have just the book with the incantations, but do you care to share the secret of the skill?" he wondered.

The captain laid his arms on the table and grinned at the eager young man. "Yes, for a price."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "What is this price?"

"A distraction, and your fealty to my Master," the captain told him.

Percy frowned, leaned back and shook his head. "No, I will not swear loyalty to anyone but myself. My father gave his loyalty to your Master and he now lies crushed beneath several tons of stone."

The captain chuckled and leaned back. "Then what you have in your pocket will remain a rock, and you will end your days as nothing more than an outcast, the cursed son of a traitor. Despised by your enemies and pitied by your friends."

"I have no friends, only those with whom I travel," Percy sneered.

"All the more pitiable, but it does not get you any closer to your dreams of power," the captain commented.

Percy narrowed his eyes. "What assurance do I have that I can trust your Master's favor?" he wondered.

The captain smiled and held out his hand. "May I see that stone once more?" he requested. Percy hesitated, but handed over one of the stones. Lee set the stone in the center of his palm and the stone pulsed with a white light that signified the color of the Caston region. The light focused into a band, and the band traced itself across the surface of the table and cut a small path through the wood. Percy's eyes widened and he reached out for the stone, but the moment he touched the rock the glow was extinguished. Lee chuckled at Percy's confused and irritated face. He put the rock on the table and slid it over to Percy. "Just a rock, but we can offer so much more," he commented.

"An interesting assurance," Percy commented.

"Then do we have an agreement?" the captain wondered.

Percy pursed his lips together, but nodded. "Very well. What must I do?"

CHAPTER 11

 

"Ya don't have ta be following me," Canto growled at Sins as they climbed the stairs to the terrace that held the Dueling Grounds. Sins didn't deign to answer, and the dwarf's look grew darker. "If yer going ta be being that way ya may as well leave. If Ah find trouble Ah can get out of it by myself."

"My being here is to keep you from trouble," Sins reminded him.

Canto scoffed. "Then yer wasting yer time. Nobody's been able to do that yet except my mum, and ya don't remind me of her."

"I accept the compliment," Sins replied.

Canto stopped and spun around with ax in hand. "My mum was twice the man ya are," he argued.

"I have no doubt," Sins returned.

Canto tightened his grip on his ax handle. "Are ya meaning to insult me mum?" he growled.

"You need any assistance," Sins answered.

The short dwarf stalked up to the tall assassin and tapped the pointed end of hit ax against Sins' coat. "All right, Ah've had enough of ya. Why don't we go about using those Dueling Grounds and settle our differences with a blood match? First one to cause blood wins," he challenged him.

"I do not shed blood needlessly," Sins argued.

Canto snorted. "No, only when there's a coin ta be had."

Sins stiffened. "I kill only those who deserve death," he countered.

"And who are ya to be deciding that, eh? Ya've got a lot of bloods on yer hands to be thinking other men deserve to die by them," Canto pointed out. Sins' eyes narrowed, but he didn't reply. Canto grumbled and shouldered his ax. "Ya know, Ah think ya might have a point about trouble and me. Ah've been looking for it too much lately. Maybe it's all this magic hereabouts, or maybe it's being dragged from one place to the next. Ah haven't felt this edgy since being tossed out of Dirth," he mused. Canto waited for some snarky comment, but Sins remained silent. "Ah guess ya don't really know what that's like, do ya? Wanting to call a place a home and not being able to."

"My sister is my home," Sins told him.

Canto's eyes flickered to his face and he raised an eyebrow. "That's some pretty deep words coming from ya, but fer once Ah have to agree with ya. Family's a good place ta call home if'n ya got 'em."

"Or friends," Sins replied.

"Aye," Canto drawled. He leaned toward Sins and narrowed his eyes. "Ya don't get to visiting yer sister much, do ya?"

"Why?" was Sins' paranoid response.

"Because yer changed after seeing her. She's done a good job telling ya what ya needed ta hear in that short time we were there," he commented. Sins stiffed and made as though to speak, but Canto waved off any argument. "Don't go fooling with me. Ah'm a sight older than ya and don't believe a lie when it's told ta me, but if'n ya don't want to be talking about it then let's get moving. Ah want to see if any of these fancy young elves knows what the sight of blood looks like."

The pair proceeded on their way up the stairs in the same silence, but with a little more respect for the person by their side.

 

 

While the men of the group explored the sights and intrigues of the city, Ruth and Pat ventured to the library. The building lay near the top of the hill, and halfway around the arch of the terrace on the left side of the stairs. It was a large, domed, rectangular building hewn from the same white stones as the castle and similar in appearance to the Senex building of Kite where the dome lay in the center of the roof. There was a portico on the front with thick columns that kept up the porch roof, and the front doors were tall and narrow. Outside the library was a large courtyard with a circular fountain in the center and curved benches around the periphery. The women found the square crowded with elves discussing ideas and books borrowed from the library.

"Nakedness does not disappear with clothing. We remain naked with our clothes, one cannot simply see our nakedness," one scholar pompously argued with his friend.

"You have changed the definition of nakedness to suit your argument," he countered.

"I have merely expanded it," the first elf insisted.

"Do you challenge my judgment?"

"Yes."

"Then it is with a heavy heart I must challenge you to a duel," his friend demanded.

"Very well, swords at dawn tomorrow," the first elf agreed.

The other elf appeared disappointed. "Why not now? I already have a duel scheduled for the afternoon of the morrow."

His friend sighed. "Very well. Let us go forth."

The pair passed Pat and Ruth on the way to their duel at the Dueling Grounds. The women stood dumbfounded by the quick rush to duel one another.

Ruth leaned in close to her companion. "Their customs are certainly strange," she whispered to Pat.

"Shh!" Pat hissed as her eyes flickered over the crowd. None seemed to have overheard Ruth's words. "Be careful what you say. They may consider any comment an insult," she warned her friend.

The friends passed through the crowds and the large doors. The tall, wide square entrance hall was filled with bookcases set in neat rows from wall to wall. Those that were free-standing in the center of the room were eight feet tall, but the ones along the walls were twice that height. The highest shelves were accessed by elven magic. The elves used their magic to pull the books from their positions on the high shelf and float the books down to them. Long, wide wooden tables broke up the uniform lengths of the rows of bookcases, and the chairs were crowded with people perusing through the books.

Among the colorful citizens were elves robed in white cloaks. They meandered through the crowds pausing and speaking in whispered voices to the patrons and one another. To the left of the entrance was a small desk behind which was seated another of the robed elves. He bowed to the two young women, and Pat walked over to the desk.

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