CHAPTER SIXTEEN

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Alaric

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19th of Decepter, 935 PC

Six purple crystals tumbled across the battered table top as the coin purse was emptied. A thin white residue coated their smooth faces, their edges crisp. A faint scent of a lotus flower crept into Alaric’s nostrils. It made him grit his teeth. A gorgeous little package for a filthy little substance. The wobbly chair creaked and shifted as Alaric leaned back. The rain played an all too familiar tune on the roof of the inn. It’s presence added a certain ominous feeling to the dim room that he appreciated. He listened to it intently, enjoyed the eerie ambiance it provided.

He placed his in front of the trail of blood matriculating across the uneven table and directed it away from himself. It caught a new line and charged toward the edge. He looked at Richard Danfield across the table, his hands bound to the chair, his head slouched forward, throat slashed. Elgar and the others had found the informant in Blue Lakes while hunting down his real target, bringing him along like good soldiers should. But Danfield was useless. He had barely been working for Alaric for less than a moon. In the end, he had been nothing more than something for Alaric to unleash his anger on. There was no argument that Nathaniel Ames was the one that deserved his wrath but he didn’t want valuable information dying with the more seasoned traitor. He fixed his gaze on the trembling coward beside the corpse, bound to his own chair, waiting to explain himself. The sweat on his forehead glistened in the candlelight. Calm down. I’ve proven my point. Now get the information.

Only a handful of the candles Therrin had set out for him still remained lit, the others extinguished by the brisk gusts of wind that periodically chilled the room. Their flames flickered and danced now as one such gust swept through. He glanced at the broken window, rain drops sprinkled the warped floorboards beneath it. Ending just at the head of two shadows being cast from the table. I really should board that thing up better. Wouldn’t want to come down with The Frost Mother’s Freeze. On either side of the window were two tall bookshelves, one had no books at all, the other had half as many as it should. The images of the books laying in the mud below flashed through his mind. The rage Capricia had induced with her news about his informants was still boiling inside him when King’s message arrived from Steppe. He had lost control of himself and taken it out on anything and everything in his path. Including the books. What had happened to the people in Steppe was awful, but it bothered him less than the thought of his plan unraveling all across the empire. Then there was The Hounds in Blue Lakes. What in the three hells did they want in Blue Lakes? Just to send a message? It was all too much. How could they do this to me? He wanted to scream. He may have, had Nathaniel not tried to speak.

“Alaric, I-” A single finger silenced the captive. His chin dropped to his chest as if he was a scolded child. He was a small man with an unimpressive physique. There was an open wound in his arm that no one had taken credit for. Nor had they bandaged. Its grotesque look went well with the rest of Nathanial’s hideous appearance. For years Alaric believed his friend’s crooked nose and missing teeth gave him a certain sense of character, now Nathaniel just looked like a scoundrel.

The soft scraping sound inside his breast pocket helped to alleviate a sliver of the tension in the room. Just enough to remind him all the eyes were on him, the eyes he had so quickly forgotten after his angry outburst. It was then that he could feel his heart racing, hear his heavy breathing. Therrin was laying on the bed in the corner, propped up on his elbow, eyes still wide. His bodyguard, Garth, stood by the door, arms folded, a stoic look on his face as if nothing had happened. Belvedere sat at the table with him, wiping the blood from her face and dabbing at her clothes with a handkerchief.

The hard candy opened with a quick twist, the wrapper landed inches from the trail of blood, now dripping off the side of the table. The sweet, woody flavor of the cinnamon made him grin. Nothing calms your nerves like candy.

“Belvedere,” he said.

“Yes, Alaric.”

He turned his focus to the crystals on the table. “What do I owe you for the lotus?” She waved her hand, the handkerchief flapping.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re too kind.” He examined her. “Sorry about that.” He nodded at the blood on her clothes. Streaks of crimson dotted her tan tunic. She shrugged.

“I’ll buy a new one when we get back,” she said with a smile.

He leaned over the table and wiped a few drops of blood from her chin. “There you are, that’s better.” They exchanged an intimate stare for a moment before he leaned back. “You can leave now… If you don’t want to see what happens next.” He turned his gaze to his captive. Nathaniel swallowed hard.

“You’d be surprised by what I’ve seen.” she said. “I think I’ll stay.” She tucked the cloth away.

Nathaniel panicked. Words flooded from his mouth. “Alaric, I’m sorry. I admit it! I knew what was going to happen in Steppe. Urman told me all about it! Told all of us about it! Said he needed some of us to help him get in touch with a Lotus officer, a captain. But he also told me he’d kill LeighAnne and my pups if I mentioned it to you. Threatened all of us! Please show mercy! Please! You know how important my pups are to me. He had the best of me.” He squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. Then yanked at his restraints wildly.

“Garth,” said Alaric calmly. He pulled the behemoth across the room with a gentle wave of his fingers.

Heavy footsteps crossed the room. The floorboards creaked and whined beneath the brute’s weight. Nathaniel looked at the beast with every ounce of fear Garth deserved.

“Garth. Garth. Please Garth. Please don’t hurt me. Please. We drink together! Good friends, me and you!”

Nathaniel’s desperate squirming stopped abruptly. His shoulders nearly disappeared beneath the guard’s massive hands.

Garth stood just over six and half feet tall, his hair was pulled back tight and tied with a black cord. His tight black shirt hugged his full chest, outlined the abdominal muscles beneath it. A physical specimen. Though Elgar made Shade and Diedro sound quite impressive as well.

“Where is Urman now?” asked Alaric.

“I dunno! I really don’t!” said Nathaniel. I don’t have time for this fool.

A sense of urgency had been weighing down on him since his discussion with Capricia. The plan he had laid out no longer looked like it was going to work. Not with so many loose ends and questionable helpers along the way. But reorganizing everything sounded like a nightmare to him. Luckily, he had a woman named Narah Loe, Shade’s sister, that lived and breathed efficiency and planning. She was in her own room just then, working on every detail necessary to move their departure date up. Hopefully the traitors haven’t gotten to all of my connections. He had no way of knowing, not with so little time available. If they did not strike by year’s end the Lotus Army would simply be too powerful to defeat. Too large. Too mobile. Too fierce.

“Untie him.” Alaric could tell everyone in the room believed he had misspoken. “Go ahead,” he said calmly. “Untie him.”

Nathaniel was smiling as he rubbed his raw wrists. “Thank you Alaric! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I will do anything for-”

“Eat one,” said Alaric.

Nathaniel’s smile melted instantly, replaced with a hanging jaw and petrified eyes. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“No, Please,” said Nathaniel pathetically. “I’ll do anything you ask of me. I’ll hunt Urman down. Kill him with my bare hands!”

Alaric nodded at Garth. The brute leaned down. His beard nearly rubbed the informant’s cheek. “Ya got three seconds to be chompin’ on one of them pretty litt’l things.” When Nathaniel didn’t move Garth began his countdown, each word drawn out in a low growl. “Three… Two…”

The sound of the crystalling capsule crunching between Nathaniel’s teeth was music to Alaric’s ears. Now he suffers.

“Belvedere, are you privy to how lotus magic works?” Alaric asked.

The woman sat up in her chair a little straighter. “Of course.” She looked at Nathaniel. “Made by the Lotus Queen herself. As I’m sure you’re well aware.” Nathaniel didn’t acknowledge her. She frowned. “Anyway… It will mix with your blood. Make it so thin it feels like you have five times as much as usual. Or so they say.” She looked at Alaric. “I don’t actually know if that much is true, but I know it thins the blood. Makes them feel strange and euphoric.” Alaric stoically tilted his head toward Nathaniel. Belvedere stopped. “Right.”

She looked back at Nathaniel. “When it’s done mixing with your blood, your fingers will turn purple. Then, your new magic will slither into your fingertips and live there, waiting to be thrown at whatever you want to kill or destroy… typically Purists.” Suddenly she smiled. “Your fingernails will glow purple too. The only good part in my opinion. Then of course, there’s deprivation, oh yes, and the drying out part… both just horrible to witness. Worse to experience I suppose.”

“Thank you Belvedere,” said Alaric. “He clearly isn’t listening though.”

Nathaniel’s eyes were closed, his lips curled toward the floor slightly as the substance coursed through his body. Alaric grabbed one of the crystals. The scent of a lotus flower filled his nostrils, much more than before. His blood felt like it was simmering, as if anxious to mix with the false magic. It sickens me to think Iris gave the entire empire access to superiority. White powder and purple shards fell to the table as he crushed the capsule between his fingers.

Suddenly, a chill shook Nathaniel hard, then again every few seconds after that. His breathing became rapid. He clenched his fists tight then opened his hands as wide as they could stretch. Over and over he did this until the dry heaves began. They made him look like a gagging hound.

Alaric’s chair scraped against the floor and tipped over as he rushed around the table, knife in hand.

“Hold his wrists,” he said to Garth.

“There!” said Belvedere. “His smallest finger!”

“Step back,” Alaric said to her. She moved from her chair quickly.

Nathaniel’s fingers each began to turn purple. Then the first faded back to its pale white as the magic crawled toward his fingertips. A moment later the first nail was glowing bright. One by one each finger repeated the process.

“Therrin, bring the boy!” said Alaric.

Therrin rolled toward the wall and nudged Coyne, who to this point had been distracting himself with a quill he had found on their ride home. His small, shadowy outline appeared in the dim corner as he sat up. He crawled over Therrin and dropped to the floor. His bare feet made a padding sound as he scurried toward Alaric.

“We’re going to need your magic soon,” he said. Coyne shook his head and grabbed Alaric’s pants tight as he tucked himself behind the man.

There was a pitiful mumble from the table. Nathaniel’s head leaned forward, Garth stood beside him, his hands still wrapped around the man’s wrists. “I’m sorry Alaric. I really am. Urman made us do it. But I won’t mess up again. I swear. You guys are all that matters to me. Truly.”

“Touching, Nathaniel. But I can’t trust you anymore. Maybe if it had only been Steppe. Just maybe. I know Urman is a smooth-talking manipulator. He could easily put you in a bind and make you work his angle. But Blue Lakes too. No. I know Urman has no information about Blue Lakes.”

“No. No one knows! They just burned down the village! Ask Elgar!”

“Elgar has told me plenty.” Alaric approached the table. He looked at Nathaniel’s fingers. “Besides, you’re my enemy now.”

Nathaniel looked up. “No! No I’m not. I love you, all of you. I’ll do anything you ask of me! I promise! I’ll never betray your trust again!”

“I have a more reliable alternative,” Alaric said. He pulled Coyne out from behind himself. “You can use your magic now.”

The young boy pulled a chair around the corner of the table and positioned it behind Nathaniel. He climbed up carefully and stood, the wobbly chair making Alaric wonder if it would collapse.

“Find out if Nathaniel knows where Urman Gant is located,” Alaric said..

Coyne placed his hands on Nathaniel’s head.

“What’s he doing?!” asked the captive nervously. No one answered him.

At first, only the boy’s eyes were closed, then Nathaniel’s slammed shut. His head jerked backward, his muscles tensed. They stayed like that for several seconds as the boy probed every inch of Nathaniel’s mind to find the information he had been asked to steal. Suddenly, Coyne’s hands burst from the man’s head and grabbed onto the back of the chair to keep from falling. He looked at Alaric.

“Does he know?” Alaric asked.

Coyne nodded his head. Lying son of a bitch.

“And do you know where he is?” Again, Coyne nodded.

Alaric stepped to the table, fury raging inside him. Nathaniel screamed.

“Help!” He tried desperately to escape Garth’s grasp but failed. “Help!”

“Do you honestly think anyone in The Black Boar Inn cares what’s happening here?” asked Alaric angrily. The inn’s reputation for allowing anything and everything to happen inside its walls was exactly why he had the room permanently reserved.

Alaric laid his knife across one of Nathaniel’s glowing fingers. Suddenly, a purple flash of lightning streaked across the room, originating at Nathaniel’s fingertips. As much as Alaric hated the false mages and their magic, it was difficult not to be awe-struck by the incredible spectacle; bright and glowing, powerful and deadly. When it came to a stop a singed black ring appeared on the wall around a destroyed section of wood. They could see the rain falling outside from through the hole. Alaric , who had retracted his hand in shock upon Nathaniel’s blast, laid his blade down again. Another blast. This time, Alaric simply glared at the Lotus then let the blade do its work.