Tears of Liscor, page 58
part #9 of The Wandering Inn Series
“Zel Shivertail. [Lieutenant].”
Olesm whispered the words. He looked at the report and then a map of Liscor’s dungeon. His claws traced the parchment, and he thought long and hard about what might happen if—if.
There were so many things to keep track of. Olesm’s head hurt. He lowered his head onto the desk and fell asleep, though he’d only meant to rest for a second. He had worked so hard. After the last Pallassian [Soldier] had come through for the day, he’d tried to extract the door to Liscor, but he couldn’t get Lyonette to budge, and the Horns, the Halfseekers, Griffon Hunt, and the Silver Swords were all there. So Olesm had given up. Gold-ranks were better than regular guards, anyways.
But he hadn’t entrusted it to just them. A dozen of Embria’s [Soldiers] and a [Captain] were standing watch in the inn, as were a group of [Guardsmen]. Sentries on Liscor’s walls were watching the Wandering Inn, and no one was allowed in or out, magic door or otherwise. Olesm had left nothing to chance. He’d done everything right, in short. Even Relc was there, grumbling about a lack of free drinks and looking more alert than usual.
No one would be able to get in or out. Unless they had been waiting inside the inn all night, waiting for this moment. Embria’s [Soldiers] were standing by the windows, not speaking and glancing with irritation at Relc as he talked with the other members of the City Watch. One of the [Soldiers] began to yawn and caught himself. The [Captain] on duty turned to shout at the [Soldier]—
And all the Drakes toppled to the ground. Relc looked around wildly. He got to his feet unsteadily and growled.
“Aw, hell—”
He toppled over before he could grab the potion at his belt pouch. The inn went silent. Not a creature stirred, not even Apista. And then a figure popped open the trap door to Erin’s basement. He stumbled out, grumbling about dead Raskghar corpses, and walked over to the magic door, staff in hand. He bent to fumble with the mana stones in the bowl and stopped as someone else stepped out from the shadows where he had been perfectly hidden.
Typhenous slowly turned around. The old [Mage]’s beard caught the light glowing from the tip of his staff. He turned and locked eyes with a smiling [Magician] who held a wand in his hand.
“Ah. I thought I might be running into someone else.”
“A neat spell. I was impressed that you got even the big Drake. May I ask what spell it was? Some kind of empowered [Sleep] spell?”
Eltistiman walked forwards, wand held casually in one hand. Typhenous smiled and tugged his beard as he turned, putting his back to the door.
“Not [Sleep]. A higher-Tier variation on the spell that involves a living vector. [Mites of Slumber]. A fine spell to use on the unwary. Even Gold-rank adventurers are not unsusceptible to its effects. Although I imagine Halrac might have noticed even in his sleep.”
Eltistiman nodded.
“Few prepare against actual living creatures as vectors. I imagine the soporific effect is only partially magical and partially a magically-induced sickness?”
Typhenous looked surprised.
“Exactly. It’s a pleasure to meet a fellow mage of the craft, aside from young Pisces and Falene, who are quite insufferable. Ceria and Moore are far more pleasant company, although they’re hardly avid students. Merely practitioners.”
“It is a fine line between mages who study theory and simply cast spells without understanding the full effects.”
Eltistiman nodded, smiling. He regarded Relc’s sleeping form.
“I’m impressed you got the Drake, again. The mites must have labored hard to get into his skin.”
Typhenous smiled.
“I didn’t bother with that. I just had him eat some with his food.”
“As one would expect of the Plague Mage, Typhenous.”
Eltistiman nodded politely, and Typhenous tipped his own chin. The two stared at each other. Typhenous sighed and glanced back at the door behind him.
“I don’t suppose we’ve come here for the same reason?”
Eltistiman smiled ruefully. He stood casually, his wand pointed at the ground. But the light tone and relaxed posture were betrayed by his watchful eyes. Typhenous leaned on his staff, eying Eltistiman.
“I’m afraid not. You see, my client would prefer that door stay here. She sent me here to make sure that it did and to aid Liscor in any small way I could. Oh, and also to investigate these ‘plays’ she’s heard about. She’s quite taken with the idea.”
“I can well imagine. I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me who hired you?”
The [Magician] waved a finger.
“Ah, you know the rules. Let’s just say a [Lady] with a fine taste in horticulture hired me.”
Typhenous raised his eyebrows.
“Indeed? That is quite the important employer. Myself, I was hired by the Smiling Man.”
Eltistiman’s lips quirked.
“Oh, him? Well, I can’t imagine he was pleased by today’s events. Still, he’d be quite pleased if you completed your mission. Which you will not, by the way. Cast a spell and I will kill you. Throw your staff down, sir.”
Typhenous eyed Eltistiman. The [Magician] hadn’t even raised his wand. For a second, the air hummed, and then Typhenous sighed. He slowly lowered his staff. He tossed it to the ground. Eltistiman, who’d tensed, nodded.
“Thank you, sir. And now, move to the side and retrieve a pair of cuffs from that Gnoll there. The one with the stripes on her ears. She has a pair of cuffs for magic users.”
“Well thought out, aren’t you?”
Typhenous grumbled as he slowly walked over, deliberately not making any sudden moves. Eltistiman was still watching him. He slowly bent and searched for the cuffs. Eltistiman nodded.
“It does pay to be prepared, and I had an inkling my opponent was you. Those in the business, you know.”
“Yes, yes.”
“What I can’t understand is why you would do this. Surely you owe the charming young lady who owns this inn more than betrayal.”
Typhenous looked up sharply. He stared coldly up at Eltistiman.
“I owe Erin Solstice a great deal, young man. And I do not forget my debts.”
The [Magician] frowned. He lifted his wand warily, but Typhenous made no move.
“Why, then?”
The old Gold-rank adventurer sighed. He bent and looked around the Gnoll’s waist and finally found the cuffs.
“Simple. For money and the favors I am owed for doing this, of course. I owe Erin Solstice a great deal, but I owe my team more. You know why?”
“Naturally.”
“Just so.”
Typhenous untangled the cuffs. He smiled at Eltistiman.
“I caused a great deal of trouble for my team. And they didn’t abandon me. I owe them a lot. This will be my last team, I think. And I’d like to repay them. And—one more thing.”
“What’s that? Put the cuffs on, by the way. I’m not falling for a trick if you fake putting them on or throw them at me.”
The old [Mage] sighed as he opened the cuffs.
“Perish the thought. The reason is that if I failed, the Smiling Man and…others would not stop with just me. You know that. They’d send [Assassins] next.”
“True. But my employer has a way with [Assassins]. As do I.”
“I suppose so. You wouldn’t care to let me go, by any chance?”
Eltistiman raised his wand for the first time.
“Not a chance. Cuffs on, now.”
He stared at Typhenous. The [Mage] put one hand through the cuffs, but Eltistiman was on alert now. Typhenous was moving slowly. Something was up. But he could blast Typhenous in a second. The [Magician]’s eyes flicked around the room. The basement? No. Typhenous? It would be suicide unless he had a ring that could block a spell. Was it the staircase? The door?
And then Eltistiman glanced towards the magic door. It was sitting against the wall, energy depleted after a day of use. It was closed obviously, and Pallass’ yellow mana stone had been taken off. But another mana stone had replaced it. A green, glowing gem. Eltistiman stared at it. And then he noticed that the door was open a crack—
Eltistiman whirled too late. The door blew open, and a man rushed through. Fast. He leapt across the room, Eltistiman’s wand raised, but the man knocked him to the ground, and his spell went wide. The dark-clothed man had a cudgel in hand. Eltistiman turned his wand, aiming for his chest—
The man with the cudgel swung into his ribs and then broke the [Magician]’s fingers on his wand with a series of precise strikes. The [Mage] jerked, but he still tried to cast the spell. Quick as a flash, the cudgel danced a rhythm on his head. The [Magician]’s head jerked, and he went still.
“Oh dear. I don’t suppose he’s dead. Is he?”
Typhenous tossed the cuffs to the ground. The [Thug] carefully felt at Eltistiman’s pulse and then laid the [Magician] down. He walked back over to the door, rapped twice on it, then bent to pick up Typhenous’ staff and handed it to the [Mage].
“Here, sir. Don’t worry about the wand fellow. He’ll wake up with more lumps than I’d care to think on, but a healing potion will do him right up.”
“Thank you.”
Typhenous accepted the staff and leaned on it. The man with the cudgel looked back to the door as it opened. Three more men slipped in, all wearing dark leather armor concealed by dark cloth. The thing about these men was that despite the fact that all were [Thugs], they were quite snappily dressed. Dark cloth and leather didn’t have to look bad, and these four stood straight and nodded to each other as they stepped into the inn.
They didn’t even bother with masks; instead, each wore a ring that would make anyone who saw their faces forget it in moments after seeing them. Besides the man with the cudgel, the other three carried a billy club, a swordbreaker dagger and a sap, and a pair of brass knuckles. No edged weapons of any kind except for the dagger, and it wouldn’t be covered in blood if the men had anything to say about it. They nodded to Typhenous, and the man with the cudgel cleared his throat.
“The Brothers of Serendipitous Meetings present their regards, sir. Saw you had a spot of bother there and was choosing my moment.”
“I noticed. Thank you, sir. And who do we have here?”
The door had opened, and five shapes had slipped into the room, almost unnoticed. Almost, since Typhenous had been looking for them. One of the masked women turned towards him as the others spread out, bows and daggers in hand.
“We are the Sisters of Chell. You know why we are here.”
“I do indeed.”
The Brothers clustered around the door as the Sisters inspected the slumbering Drakes and Gnolls. The man with the cudgel looked at Typhenous.
“This is the target, sir?”
“Yes. And the mana stones. Here.”
Typhenous pointed to the bowl. The men eyed them, and then one of them pulled out a disguised bag of holding as small as two fingers. He whisked the stones into the sack.
“Do we have details on how they work? For the client.”
“The green stone leads to Celum. Blue to Liscor. Yellow for Pallass…there’s a red stone in there as well, but I wouldn’t activate that.”
“Why not?”
Typhenous smiled.
“It leads to a cave full of Goblins. They’re quite friendly to the owner of this inn.”
“Goblins? Now I know I’ve gone mad.”
The [Thug] shook his head and twirled his cudgel. He looked sharply at Typhenous.
“Very well. What are our obstacles?”
He didn’t waste time. One of the Sisters of Chell came over as Typhenous described what he’d seen and heard.
“You’ll encounter sentries watching the inn. They’re armed with bows, but I doubt Liscor has many of its [Mages] on the walls. They’re exhausted from casting [Message] spells all day. The waters are placid and draining—you may run your boat aground on some of the larger hills. Watch out for Rock Crabs and other fish species.”
“Lovely. And pursuit?”
“If it comes, it will be by boat. There is a Courier in the city, but he doesn’t engage in combat from what I’ve heard. And there is a Gold-rank Garuda—”
One of the Sisters mumbled a curse, and a Brother gave her a reproving glance. Typhenous went on smoothly.
“—but she should be locked in the prison. Oh, and there are several hundred Goblins camped in a cave along the northern road, but none of them are Hobs.”
“Well, that’s a relief. We’ll see what occurs as it may. Goblins, you said? Not a problem, sir, even by the hundreds. We’ve expertise in dealing with Goblin Tribes. Now, you said you had a boat? Enough for all of us or must we swim? I apologize that we didn’t inform you of the numbers, but we had no idea this was going down tonight until word came in.”
The [Thug] looked apologetic. The Sisters rolled their eyes, but said nothing. Typhenous nodded politely. Each underworld organization had its quirks, and it had to be said that the Brothers of Serendipitous Meetings had built a reputation on being, well, polite.
The Brothers of Serendipitous Meetings and the Sisters of Chell weren’t the biggest of the underworld groups that worked out of the various cities of Izril, but the two largest local players in the region by far, certainly. And they’d clearly brought some of their veteran members for this job.
“It was a trick and a half bringing together enough of the fellows for this job. And no one warned us there’d be another group sharing our case.”
The [Thug] looked mildly reproachful as he gestured at the Sisters.
“Not my fault. You know how these things go.”
Typhenous raised his hands. The man with the cudgel nodded. He spotted one of the Sisters bending over a Drake, furtively rummaging around for valuables. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly as another reached for Eltistiman’s wand.
“Please, ladies. Have some class.”
The Sisters of Chell gave him a look that promised blood, but they reluctantly abandoned the goods. Two of the men wrestled the door from the wall and began to move to the actual door to the inn. Typhenous and the cudgel wielder were finishing their business. A bag of holding passed hands, and Typhenous checked the money. He smiled at the glint of gold and other items.
“There’s more in the drop off point, but this is our part. Big E sends his regards.”
The [Thug] touched a finger to his head. Typhenous frowned for the first time. The man noticed.
“What?”
“You are aware there is an [Emperor] in Izril, now, aren’t you? I assume you’re referring to our mutual client, but I feel I should check.”
The [Thug] wavered. He glanced at his companions, then he moved forwards and whispered to Typhenous for a second. At last, he nodded.
“What? Really? Okay, fine. Yeah, it’s Erill. One of his, quote unquote, secret intermediaries gave us the job. Not any newcomer.”
He seemed annoyed by the lapse in professionalism and adjusted his clothes as he stepped back. The leader of the Sisters of Chell leaned forwards and hissed.
“Lady Spellcraft gave us our job. I take it there’s no question of her identity?”
“None, Ma’am.”
Typhenous nodded. He looked at the [Thug].
“I do apologize. It’s just that you never know…”
The man nodded.
“We’ll bear it in mind for future jobs. Now, about that boat…we will need it. The report indicated we’d be traveling via boat until we clear Liscor’s lakes.”
“Outside. Several of them, in fact. The adventurers tie them up. Take whichever you wish. And once you reach the shore, I take it you have ample transportation?”
The [Thug] froze. He turned back to Typhenous and scowled, for the first time visibly upset.
“It’s covered. You know better than to ask questions.”
“I apologize.”
Chastened, Typhenous looked down. The Brothers shifted. One of them glanced ahead.
“All set?”
“We are clear for now. Go at your ready.”
The Sisters tensed by the door. The [Thug] took his position next to the two men holding the magic door, nodded, and then thrust open the door. The men and women shot out of the inn like a flash. Typhenous heard nothing until, nearly thirty seconds later, someone blew a horn from the top of Liscor’s walls.
“Ah, and there we go.”
Typhenous sighed. He walked over and closed the door, then walked over to Eltistiman. He began tugging the [Magician] towards the basement. With any luck, no one would check for him and the [Magician] would get away. He did have a rather nice concealment spell. Typhenous wasn’t worried about reprisals; he had done his job and so had Eltistiman. That was how it worked, although Typhenous would have to be careful if they ever ran up against each other again. The young man was quick.
——
Two boats skimmed across the water as Liscor went into full-alert for the umpteenth time that month. People on the walls fired arrows, but by the time more arrived and the enchantments on the wall were ready to be activated, both boats were long out of range. The Brothers of Serendipitous Greetings and the Sisters of Chell moved fast; their Skills made the boats fly across the water. Only when they were well out of range did they slow and take a stealthier tack.
The rain had abandoned Liscor, which was a pity since that would have covered their trail perfectly, but the clouds were still lingering, and so the rogues moved in shadows. They were headed north, and a fast wagon was waiting to take them even further still once they hit land.
None of the men or women talked. They were professionals. They kept an eye on the waters and on Liscor in case of pursuit—and an eye ahead for good measure. They were reaching land when they heard a strange sound.
“Hold up. You hear that?”
The [Thug] with the cudgel raised a hand. He turned around in his boat, seeking the strange melody that was playing across the waters. The Sisters instantly raised their bows. The sound was coming from ahead of them. Warily, both boats moved closer to shore. It would be easier to fight on the ground if it was a fight they were up against. If it was a [Shepherd] of some kind, well, they’d be unconscious faster than they could blink. Or dead if the Sisters got to them first.
