A Dead God's Tear (The Netherwalker Trilogy) (6 page)

Chasten
ed, he mumbled an apology, which she promptly waved away. “No need. You have every right to be suspicious. Just talk to him, please. I would be most grateful.”

“
I’ll do what I can. I can’t promise you anything. I must say it feels weird that you came all this way to get a piece of paper signed. . . even it is magical. Now, if I may take my leave, I’ve a rather early morning appointment tomorrow. But before I go, may I ask a favor? A test of faith per say?”

She raised an eyebrow, “
Let me see your familiar before I go.”

The look on her face turned stiff, but gradually grew softer, “
Alright, but this is a major leap of faith,” she said after a few agonizing moments.

A black as coal raven suddenly fluttered to her soft ashen shoulder, he regarded Marcius imperi
ally with blood red eyes before quickly vanishing into thin air again with a shrill squawk. “Satisfied?”

A little taken aback by the speed of the encounter with the familiar, Marcius simply nodded. He stood up, stretching a bit to get the feeling back into
his legs and backside. He paused at the door. “Good night, Alicia, I wi-.”

A hand stopped him as he turned; she was unexpectedly close to him, face to face. He hadn
’t even heard her move. She had to crane her neck to look at him since he was taller. Her teeth met behind her parted lips as she considered him, head askew, eyes black in the shade of the doorway.

He could feel her hand splayed against his chest to hold him in place, still warm through his shirt; the heat of her body tangible by her proximity.
His feet felt rooted to the floor, and he prayed that she couldn’t feel the rapid beating of his heart pounding against his chest. The scent of her tickled his nose.

“
Next time we meet Marc,” she whispered, finally shattering the silence with the softest of voices, “I have a test of faith for you. Until then, may whatever god you worship watch over you.” At that, she pushed the contract in his hand and gave him a little nudge the rest of the way through the door, which she then shut with a sense of finality.

He clutched his hand to his chest as he sought refuge against the hard stone wall, waiting for his still thumping heart to calm down. Only then realized he had been holding his breath. Never before had the quiet life of a trade prince looked so appealin
g. He wasn’t sure if he could handle situations such as the ones throughout this day, constantly. Getting into a bar fight, dealing with Freddy, and then hanging around in a very complicated woman’s bedroom. The latter felt the most life threatening, as luck would have it. To think, he was only an apprentice, what was in store for him when, and if, he became a full wizard
?

Once his breathing had returned to normal, he ventured outside and hailed a coach. Before long he was at the entrance to his family esta
te. He threw the driver a bit extra for his troubles, and doggedly made his way through the cold night into his estate.

It was late, so he had to let himself in the back way typically reserved for the now sleeping servants. Tiptoeing, he eventually snuck i
nto his room. Deciding that he wasted enough time, he flopped onto the bed without changing his clothing or taking off his boots, pausing only to throw the contract onto his dresser. He could mull over events in the morning.

Chapter 04

A
licia stared at the hard wooden door after she had closed it, and her eyes had achieved the glassy appearance of one who was looking but not really seeing. She ran through the conversation with the rogue wizard’s apprentice in her head, barely acknowledging the now recognizable black raven that appeared once again, perched on her shoulder.

He interests you. Despite the warnings the Academy gave, you find him and his family likable
.

The bird gave her an affectionate nibble on the ear. She absentmindedly stro
ked the plumage on its neck as she mulled over the familiar’s words.
Aye, Karhol, they’re a mystery, I wish I could have met them under different circumstances. Not often that you meet someone with honest eyes, someone who doesn’t seem to have a hidden agenda. Maybe I have been at the Academy too long.

The familiar arched his head up to redirect the scratching, his dark red eyes coming to rest upon her face.
Then why did you lie to him, Aly?

She stopped scratching the bird as she thought over the question, which caused Karhol to flap his wings crossly. She ignored it. It always surprised her how much like herself the black bird sounded in her head. With a small sigh she responded,
I have no choice. Anyway, I told the truth about everything. Everything but the tracking spells. I doubt as an apprentice that he knows one must have physical contact for an extended period of time.
She rubbed the fingers that had held Marcius in place.
It’s not a big deal. The Academy just wants a location in case he ever does go awry, right? Just because I tricked him into allowing me to place a tracking spell, doesn’t mean I betrayed them does it?
The words sounded hollow in her head, unconvincing even to her.

Karho
l gave a small squawk, flitting to land on the table next to the doorway where she still stood, and sauntered over to the edge. Amazingly for an animal, he somehow managed to work a bemused expression on his face. Alicia wondered if it was merely a trick of the lighting
. I know not much about the habits of humans, besides you Aly.
He always said the nickname as a term of endearment, something that always tugged a vestige of a smile on her lips.
But what little I can gather, particularly about this family, they are quick to trust, but even quicker to hold a grudge. Even if everything else about your proclaimed admiration is true, I doubt that will be the first thing he looks to when he learns of your deceit. I sense doubts in you about the honesty of the Academy’s motives?

The disclosure had caught her by surprise. One of the uncanny abilities Karhol had was a symbiotic relationship with her, and this included knowing what she was feeling and thinking; even when the thoughts were something she sought to hide.

The bird had ruffled its feathers and was now preening itself with wild abandon. Alicia’s legs were getting stiff, and she sat down at the edge of the bed, working to take off her boots as she tried to figure out a way to relay her concerns to the familiar. Most likely the familiar already knew about it, but it made her feel better to get it off her chest anyway.

Yes Karhol, you know they sent me on this mission expecting me to fail. Even so, they were insistent about me finding out the wizard
’s location. It's an odd assignment for someone who hasn’t even worn the title of Mage for a year. As Marcius said, it is also weird for me to have to travel so much just to get a rogue wizard to sign a piece of paper, not sure what magic it even contains either. Not to mention the question of why they waited so long to request the contract, or why are they are so up in arms over it now.

If there is one thing that I have learned while being apprenticed at the Academy, it is that ambition is the one thing that is in no s
hort supply. Everyone has their hidden motives it seems. This wouldn’t be the first time they had gotten rid of someone they deemed inappropriate to the Academy by sending them on an impossible assignment.

She flexed her toes, now gratefully free of the le
ather boots. Placing them next to her bed, she happily buried herself under the covers, away from the pervading night chill that had begun its way into her room. Goosebumps were already crawling their way up her arm. The fire was nearly out now; only smoldering embers remained, struggling to stay lit. She gave a flick of her wrist and the sole candle burning rebelliously by her bedstand gave a halfhearted flicker, and then went out, smothered by the simple can-trip. Snugly secure under the warm quilt, she finished her explanation.

It wouldn
’t surprise me if some overzealous
wizard got it into his head that he’d gain Denician’s favor by routing a major, if problematic, rogue wizard. Then by sending me, they might get rid of two perceived blemishes upon the Academy. Despite what I told Marc, I really can’t guarantee that they won’t send a squad of Inquisitors to kill the dwarf once they learn his location.

Inquisitors were a sect of Academy wizards sp
ecially trained to excel on the fast paced battlefield of magic, among other less reputable areas which the name implied. Armed with a usually potent bag of conflict oriented quick cast spells, they were an exercise in the deadly application of magic. They were particularly good at killing other magic users, which is what they were used for, serving as enforcers to those who were declared to have gone against the canon of the Academy. Typically, wizards treated them as one would expect a wolf among sheep to be received.

As powerful as the dwarf was reported to be, Alicia couldn
’t ignore the danger a squad of Inquisitors would present him, especially if he was caught unawares. She felt disturbed at the thought. A bit surprised, she hastily put it out of her mind.

The raven had taken his customary position on her bed post, his form a dark outline in the rapidly diminishing illumination from the fireplace; crimson eyes mere pinpricks in the dark.

The wheels have been set into motion, Aly. There is naught you ca
n do but see the results.
The familiar obviously meant for it to be comforting, but for some reason it unsettled her. She flipped over to her side and buried her face in the crook of her arm.

Tell me Karhol, why are wizards so self destructive? You would t
hink a group of educated men. . . and one woman,
she added sullenly,
would be able to get along. Instead we argue and plot behind each other’s backs. Even I’ve done some. . . unsavory things in my quest for recognition. We could do so much good for the people of this world.

There was a long stretch of silence before the raven responded, and Alicia was almost relieved when the voice once again glimmered within the depths of her mind.

We are all held prisoners by the life we chose to lead, Aly. The results of our choices cannot be fought against. A willow bends with the wind, while a proud tree will splinter before it. Wizards are beings of power, perhaps it is a law of nature, something to regulate those who in reality are above most nuisances of normal life? With your skills, the necessities of life are easy to acquire, what else is left?

It seems, from my observations, that once the basics are met, people often pick extraneous goals for life. Be it power, an ideal, or even love, they need something to striv
e for. Being one who can use the craft gives you power, and those with power usually seek more power to fill that void of emptiness. They seek the company of their kin, but end up trying to usurp each other in the end.

It is a vicious cycle.

“When did you become so smart, Karhol?” She whispered out loud, her voice awkward in the quiet room. The answer had unnerved her, but she did her best to try and hide it, pulling the blanket tighter around her.

Your concerns are my concerns, Aly. I just have more time
to dwell upon them. As you learn, I too learn. We are bonded together by the pact you forged four years ago.

She tried closing her eyes, but sleep eluded her, for one part of what Karhol had said stuck in her mind.
What’s my purpose in life? Is it merely the acquisition of power? Is it right to ensnare others within the web of my goals? Is that the emptiness I feel?

The thoughts formed an uneasy knot in her stomach, a feeling of dissatisfaction that stayed with her as she sought the freedom that only sleep
would deliver.

❧　❧　❧

Marcius groaned, flopping around in his bed. Sunlight was pouring in through his windows, which were wet from the morning dew, forming annoyingly distorted patterns of light and dark across his face.

With a single open eye from the depths of his pillow, he briefly watched a spider traverse the dangerous web of early morning condensation, carefully picking the safest route to a dry spot closest to the window. Watching the ordeal was a pretty good excus
e to forestall leaving the sanctuary of the bed for a bit longer.

With another grunt, he swung himself to a sitting position. A quick glance at his pocket watch told him it was a few minutes past eleven. His body felt physically drained, even though he had
done little physical work, and his brain just felt downright lethargic.

His body complained the entire way as he dragged himself out of bed to the washbasin, where he tried to rid himself of the grime and dust that had accumulated from the day before. Fee
ling better after most of the filth had been washed away, he threw on a deep royal purple silk shirt and a pair of comfortable green britches.

The smell of succulent cooking had already made its way upstairs, doing much to alleviate the tension that was le
ft over from previous day. As he fastened the last of the straps on his pants, the events of yesterday stuck out in his mind. He really hoped that today was less confusing. Everywhere he turned only seemed to lead to more questions. In particular, the events at the inn bothered him for some reason.

He glanced over to the magical contract discarded haphazardly on the dresser.  Marcius wondered what the Mage had meant when saying that his father had willing gave her information on the dwarven wizard. It didn
’t make sense. How could he hide a fugitive by letting everybody know what was going on? He resolved to ask his that particular question the next time he saw him, but first his stomach demanded his immediate attention.

"Master Marcius," Clarissa greeted him
as he entered the kitchen. She was already putting away the dishes.

"Good morning, Son!" A surprise welcomed him in the form of his father. By this time of day he was usually off working at the docks. "I decided to take a late breakfast today. I was looki
ng forward to talking to you a bit, and to find out how your quest for familiar items went," he explained as if reading Marcius's thoughts.

As Marcius sat down, Clarissa was quick to serve him a steaming bowl of potato soup along with a cool pitcher of win
e, before tactfully excusing herself from the room. The soup was still hot; it trailed pleasant warmth down his throat as he ate.

Marcius went through the entirety of the proceedings from the day b
efore, leaving no fact unsaid as Lian quietly listened. As Marcius finished, Lian took a large swig of his wine, smacking his lips in appreciation, before speaking. "So that would explain that lovely creature and two kegs of beer that arrived early this morning, eh? They are both out in the stables. Take a look after we’re done here." Lian's face noticeably sobered, "Now two things concern me. First is the bar fight. I can't stress how important it is to keep your magical orientation quiet around this town. Unlike Lars and Clarissa, they would be far less understanding of your passion."

"But father
. . . " Marcius
began
.

Lian quickly held up a hand to forestall any explanations. "I understand why you did it, but do you understand the consequences of your acti
ons? The regulars of the tavern might easily forget what happened because of the free beer, but what about the barkeep and most likely that dwarf? It wouldn't take much to blackmail us under threat of taking their tale to the Sheriff or the Duke."

He held
up his hand as Marcius again started to deny the accusations. "You know how this town and the Duke feel about magic. It wouldn't take much for them to trump up some false charges just to jail us. Just be more careful okay? If it wasn’t for the Duke being scared of angering the Academy, that wizard that visited us would probably already be clapped in chains. He doesn’t share the King’s open views of people, and neither does that warmongering oggron of a Sheriff either."