City of the Dead Read online

  “Five thousand gold?” Forian said in surprise. He hadn’t been expected that kind of a number.

  “Magic equipment, Master Mage,” Isor replied. “You stunned three mages. The lixes didn’t have time to destroy their clothes, and the all-seeing god valued them highly.”

  “Master Isor, Tailyn Vlashich is here to see you.” At that moment, the office door opened, and the elder’s aide peeked in. He paled when he saw the mages.

  “Tell him to come back later,” Isor snapped.

  “Let him in,” said the mage with a nod at the piece of paper. “It looks like he earned himself a reward, too. Hm… One thousand, three hundred gold. Not bad at all for ten years old.”

  “Master Mage, come on, what does he need a reward for?” Isor asked nervously. He’d already spent the boy’s money in his head. “The kid just happened to be passing by, and he got lucky to be protected by the temple. Don’t worry, I’ll pay him what he deserves.”

  Forian very nearly lost his temper. The worm was daring question the wisdom of the god’s decision? The lix spawn wasn’t aware that the god never made a mistake? As long as it decided that Tailyn influenced the course of the battle, it wasn’t for him to disagree!

  “Have Tailyn brought in, otherwise, I’m going to assume that you’re refusing my student his rightful reward!” Forian shot back coldly. It was done. The word had been said, and the rest of Tailyn’s journey to become a student was merely a formality.

  Isor’s skin turned whiter than Forian’s mantle. Tailyn was studying under a mage? And not just any mage, but a second-class investigator, a favorite of a department dean? That was impossible! What could the useless clod have done to grab the eye of someone like that? Forian’s power was not Isor’s to dispute—the elder had seen for himself how the mage had immobilized an entire army of lixes with a single blow. But Tailyn was different. He was a stupid ten-year-old from a tiny village! What could the academy want from him?!

  But there was a reason why Isor was the town elder. He know how to deal with emotions. Tailyn would get his reward, but the guards could kiss theirs goodbye. After all, they only ever drank it away in the taverns.

  “Of course, Master Investigator. By all means, call in Tailyn.”

  The boy walked into the room and paused when he saw the mages, having assumed they’d already left town. Bursting to show off his new skill, he jumped right in.

  “I followed your instructions, Master Forian. Even more! I—”

  “You’re here to report back to me?” Forian barked roughly.

  “Oh, I’m sorry… I… No, not that…” The boy was taken aback, though the correction was a fair one. “The god told me I earned eight percent of the loot. I’m here to collect it.”

  A twinge of greed swept through Isor, though the mages’ intent gaze made it clear that he wasn’t going to be let off the hook. Instead, he handed Tailyn the list of loot and a coin. The god would add the right sum.

  Nothing was going the way Isor had planned it. Once again, the investigator mage was ruining things for him.

  “I’d say giving that kind of amount to a ten-year-old child would be foolish and unwise,” the mage said. The city elder’s breath caught in his throat—was Forian really going to suggest they cut the reward, leaving a pittance for the boy? How had he not thought to suggest a share for the mage himself? Berating himself for missing that trick, the town elder made a mental note to pull it with the guards.

  “Like I was saying, this loafer doesn’t deserve—” Isor started, though Forian cut in, continuing his thought.

  “It strikes me that Tailyn would be better off with the loot you received from the lixes rather than the money. That would be smarter. After all, where else is my student going to find magic items in this hole? Esteemed God, I ask you to recalculate Tailyn’s reward!”

  Isor watched, his mouth gaping wide, as the list of loot changed in front of him. Never before had he witnessed firsthand the workings of the divine will. Of course, everyone got messages and went through an initiation, but for the god to respond to a summons by someone who was still just human, well, that was new. Isor would have tossed the piece of paper away like a poisonous viper if that had been an option. But the god might have been offended.

  “A ring and a hundred and five gold,” Isor said, reading off the changes. The ring appeared right there next to the coin. In a hurry to get rid of it all, he held it out to the boy. “Here’s your reward. Take it!”

  Tailyn accepted the god’s gift with thanks. He’d seen for himself how the ring had appeared, and he still couldn’t believe what was going on in his life. After ten years of meaning nothing to anyone, one thing after another was happening. It was enough to make anyone wonder.

  “I don’t think there’s anything else for us to do here. Just don’t forget my letters—the baron had better get them no later than tomorrow. Tailyn, let’s go. You can check your reward out later,” Forian said, stepping out of the room. The boy hurried after him like a well-trained puppy. Finally, Isor could wipe his brow, shakily pour himself some wine, and down it in a single gulp without so much as a grimace. Never again did he want anything to do with mages. And he needed to be done with the crystals, too—they were getting more and more dangerous each time. The whole thing had even cost him Dort. Although, the elder had never really cared much for his son, who had been yet another mouth to feed. They were practically innumerable, everyone wanting something from him.

  “Master, the guards are here for their reward,” his aide said, peeking through the door once again.

  “Get rid of them!” Isor exploded, cutting loose his pent-up rage. “I’m not seeing anyone else today! They can come back tomorrow, or better yet, in a week. I’m not here! Where is the damage report? And send those damn letters to the baron. Why are they still on my desk?”

  Meanwhile, the author of the letters was just leaving the elder’s palace, having long since forgotten about Isor. One thing they taught you at the academy was to clear your head of everything that didn’t need to be there.

  “So, what trouble did you get yourself into this time?” Forian asked the boy. For some reason, he suspected that was precisely what had happened.

  “No, nothing like that,” Tailyn replied hurriedly. “I did everything exactly the way you told me to. I unlocked the attributes, asked the god not to complete the initiation…and then I asked for the ability to recharge cards.”

  “Obviously, the god refused,” Keran said, an invisible shadow flitting behind his partner. The mage couldn’t wait to get out of the city, finish the job the dean had given them, and get back to the academy. Nothing about the arguments, children, and other nonsense in the town interested him in the least. Although, getting a good look at the boy would have been interesting. Only partially initiated… Keran had never heard of that.

  “I’m afraid the god actually agreed,” a frowning Forian replied before the boy could say anything. “Tell us everything that happened word for word.”

  Tailyn was stunned to see something other than a positive reaction. He’d been expecting to be praised for his initiative, maybe even rewarded, but definitely not reprimanded. Still, he recalled everything that had been said, everything that had been done.

  We can’t leave him here! We have to take him with us. Keran’s indifference was gone, and he began speaking to Forian using the healer connection. The fate of the academy is at stake!

  You want to take him with us into the Gray Lands? He won’t last a week.

  He’s going to die regardless, so he might as will die under our care. Can you even imagine what will happen if Crobar finds out you can get a skill outside the academy?

  You and I are the only two who know how to get the first initiation stage. Crobar is far away, and they couldn’t care less about some kid. After he joins the academy, everything will be fine, so don’t get carried away. I don’t want to bring him with us. He has potential, and I’m not about to waste that. The dean is already in the loop.
If the god decides we’re unworthy to return, the dean will get the boy himself. But we do need to rein him in a little—that attitude is going to get him in trouble.

  Out loud, Forian had a different message.

  “You were instructed to spend four thousand gold on attributes and the other four thousand on clothing. But you didn’t listen. Yet again. I don’t know that I’m going to have time to deal with you, and I certainly don’t want to listen to your excuses.” The mage saw the boy about to say something. “Orders are orders! As a punishment, I’m going to take your ring. You’ll get it back if you make it to the academy. Okay, we’re done here. Keep getting into trouble, and the academy will be nothing more than a pipe dream for you.”

  Tailyn watched wide-eyed as the ring evaporated in his hand and appeared in Forian’s. The god had recognized the mage’s right to punish him.

  Not far away, a luxurious carriage was waiting. And with nothing left for them to do there, the mages settled into it, Keran took up the reins, and the horses started off. Their pace was slow, as they were anxious to avoid trampling anyone. To be fair, that would have been difficult to pull off. Regardless of the fact that the square was packed, the people in front of the carriage cleared a path, filling back in as soon as the mages were gone. Hammers pounded, saws buzzed, and the delicious aroma of freshly baked bread filled the air. The city was getting back to normalcy following the invasion. And nobody had time for a stupid young boy.

  Tailyn stood there amid the bustle, unsure of what to do with himself. A couple hours before, he’d been a hero, but everyday life was already beginning to close in. The same everyday life that had kept him busy for each of his ten years. Nobody was about to offer him a job; there was nothing he could do on his own to be useful to the city. Of course, he could have hauled a few boards or helped someone else hold them, but nobody wanted to get him involved. That would have just led to a conversation with Master Isor about why a boy with a mana bar was doing primitive labor. No, no good. The kid was better off minding his own business out of everyone else’s way. The sooner the inveterate idler left everybody alone, the better…

  The only thought that crossed Tailyn’s mind was to go see Mistress Valanil. His ring had been taken away from him, but the herbalist presumably knew where he could find something else with magic power.

  But his hopes were in vain. As soon as Tailyn got to where her stand had been, he found it had been reduced to ruins the neighbors were picking through. And they weren’t even trying to get to the bottom of what had happened. They were looking for whatever they could use themselves.

  “What are you doing?” Tailyn asked indignantly, trying to stop the thieves.

  “She won’t be needing any of this,” a man shaking loose a thick beam said. “The lixes got the herbalist—Master Isor’s going to have to find a new one. We can’t not have an herbalist! Hey, could you go let him know? Ah, forget it. You’re useless—we’ll go ourselves. Wait, where are you going? This is my spot! Find your own!”

  The last few phrases were yelled at someone else looking for free wood. It was always that way, wasn’t it? One person’s catastrophe was another’s opportunity. Tailyn saw how excited the man’s kids got when he finally worked the beam free, and that gave him an idea.

  “Where’s the alchemy table? Did someone already take it?” he asked someone picking through the ruins.

  “No, what are we going to do with it?” came the reply. “Check that pile over there, the one we’ve been tossing trash into. If something catches your eye, it’s yours. Everything’s getting thrown out, anyway.”

  Tailyn went over and sighed bitterly. The implements were crushed, bent, or otherwise ruined. After checking a few of them, he couldn’t find a single one in working condition. It was all useless.

  “Hey, Tailyn, get over here!” called the man who’d grabbed the beam for himself. “You might like this.”

  He was pulling a heavy box out of the rubble, and something was clinking inside it. Pulling back the lid, Tailyn saw a mountain of broken glass as well as a dozen flasks that had somehow remained intact. The god told him immediately that they were alchemical retorts.

  “Can I have them?” the boy asked, looking over at the man. The latter nodded.

  “Go for it! I don’t even know what they are, anyway.”

  Tailyn quickly pulled the intact retorts out of the box and hid them in his virtual inventory. Just like the flowers, they only took up one spot. The trick didn’t go unnoticed, however, as the man took a step back.

  “Wait a second. Where…? What…? Okay… Tailyn, is it true that you fought off the lixes along with the guards? You got a reward?”

  Tailyn noticed in surprise as silence fell over the area—everyone was waiting to hear his answer. Embarrassed, he nodded.

  “All I did was stand on the temple stairs and use my magic cards. The guards killed the lixes.”

  “Tell us all about it! We’re all dying to know what happened,” said someone in the group. A dozen heads bobbed. They were indeed intrigued.

  Sitting down, Tailyn told the story, highlighting the best parts without embellishing or lying about them. There wasn’t any point in that, as the people gathered around wanted the truth. They weren’t there to hear tall tales.

  By the time the boy finished, there was a veritable crowd surrounding him. Nobody said a word for a little while as they paid their respects to those who had fallen or been dragged off by the lixes, though regular life slowly returned. A saw got to work. Axes began hacking away. Everyone went back to scavenging for wood among the rubble of the demolished building. Life went on, with no time to grief the lost. As he watched everyone begin working, it suddenly hit Tailyn what he needed to do.

  There was no time for him to grieve or cry, either. He had a mission that needed to be done in the coming year and a half, which meant he had to find a long ladder, a pick, and a shovel. There was going to be a lot of digging. That reminded him—he needed torches, too. It was awfully dark down in the cave with the strange name of metro tunnel.

  Lavr Nalin had given him a job to do.

  Chapter 6

  THEY WEREN’T LETTING anyone out of the city. For three days, Baron Equire’s guards swept the area in search of the escaped lixes. And of the twenty-two that had gotten away, they were able to find and take out twenty-one, the last one gone without a trace. It was almost as if it had disappeared into the ground. The farmers were nervous, refusing to head out into their fields for fear of the toothy beast finding and shredding them in seconds. None of them had a shield capable of standing up to it for long. Of course, the guards led by Motar and Tekhor did their best to assist the troops, but they still came up empty-handed.

  “This is pointless,” Darod Bifo, the commander of the baron’s troops, announced after yet another fruitless raid. “We’re just wasting time—the animal already headed back home. Let’s go! Motar, the defense of the city is on your shoulders. I’ll be expecting a report in a week.”

  Their horses squealed as spurs dug into their sides, the detachment galloping out of the city and leaving the townsfolk to look at each other. The same question was plastered across all their faces: what if the lix hadn’t gone home and was actually hiding somewhere?

  “What are you all waiting for? Let’s go! It’s our job to defend the city!” Motar was the first to come to his senses. Boots tramped dully across the pavement as the guards rushed off, and the commander twirled his mustache in satisfaction before turning to Tailyn.

  “Hey, kid, don’t go too far. I want you to be visible from the wall at all times, got it?”

  Tailyn nodded, still completely out of his element. Over the previous three days, he’d become a town legend complete with all the fables that came with the title. The guards didn’t help; instead, they threw in their own embellishments. In fact, it got to the point that everyone considered Tailyn the hero of the battle, having completely forgotten about the mages. Gone and more feared than respected, they were bett
er scrubbed right out of the picture. But Tailyn was there and one of their own. They could give him a cuff or a slap if he didn’t listen, and who doesn’t like giving it to a town legend?

  Motar’s order completely derailed Tailyn’s plans. He’d already asked the plumber to make him a ten-meter ladder, the guy having been taken aback by the unusual request until he’d been handed a nice, little coin. That had been enough for him to get to work. By the time the finished product was ready for Tailyn to pick up, an enormous crowd had gathered to mock the kid. Being a hero certainly didn’t mean they were going to let him live his life in peace. No, everyone wanted to feel just a bit superior, and so there they were to laugh at the absurdly long piece of equipment. The boy was surprised and embarrassed to see everybody there. Not understanding what was going on and without thinking twice, he dropped the ladder in his virtual inventory. There, it joined enough food for two weeks, a few large bottles of water, a shovel, a pick, a sleeping back, coils of rope, torches, and even a few bundles of firewood. The cave presumably didn’t have anything to burn in it, and the boy was definitely going to be looking to warm up during the cold nights. The expedition was going to be a long one. At least, Tailyn was planning on staying down there until he’d dug far enough to reach the tunnel.