Freelance Heroics (41 page)

“—but there’s nothing that proves he knew anything about what his wife was doing. We’re not sure how to proceed.”

“Does that mean General Ordwinn is going to be released?”

Gavi shook her head. “I don’t think so. We haven’t found any evidence that he’s
innocent
, either. I think he’s going to be kept there until someone can prove it one way or the other, or the situation changes.”

“That’s too bad. I find it hard to believe the general would do anything like this.” Hyra sighed. “Then again, I would have said the same about Rhea . . .”

While they were talking, a group of unfamiliar faces, led by Chief Boern and Knapp, approached the kennel. They could hear Chief Boern speaking as the group drew closer.

“—training. And speaking of, here’s our lead trainer, Hyra Effami.” The chief bowed to Hyra, then patted Mazik on the shoulder. “And these are two of the adventurers who have been helping us. They’ve been of great help in the past few days. Thank you again.”

Mazik squeezed the hand on his shoulder just long enough to make it awkward. “No problem.”

“Actually, we’ll get out of your way,” said Gavi, stepping to the side. She turned to Hyra. “Do you mind if we do some training out back while we’re waiting for our shift to begin?”

“Be my guest.”

Once Gavi managed to pull Mazik away from his spellhound friend, the two of them excused themselves. On their way to the back of the kennel, they passed Raedren, who was speaking with several of the kennel guards. Mazik slapped him on the back as they passed. “We’re going to do some training. Come get us if we’re needed.”

Raedren glanced at Hyra and Chief Boern’s group. He didn’t appear to be in a hurry. “All right. I’ll be protecting any spellhounds that are training outside.”

“
And
personnel,” added one of the Nijāst, a young woman. “It’s important that our trainers in particular have plenty of protection.”

Raedren’s expression remained the same. “Of course.”

“Don’t let ’em eat you alive,” said Mazik.

Gavi glanced back at Raedren, feeling bad for him. Ever since the first day, Hyra had been pursuing Raedren heavily. The two of them got along, and at first Raedren had been happy—until he learned that, as one of the Nijāst’s top spellhound trainers, Hyra
couldn’t
leave the village, even if she wanted to. The knowledge she possessed was too important.

Since then, Raedren had been trying to discourage Hyra. It hadn’t been going well.

“He’s too weak to pressure,” said Mazik, as if he could sense what she was thinking about. Probably because she was still looking over her shoulder, she realized.

“I thought you liked that about him.” Gavi jabbed him in the side. “That’s how you get him to go along on your crazy schemes.”

“That’s entirely different!” Mazik swatted at her hand, but Gavi kept at it. “I only rope him into things he might like, but would never initiate himself. Besides, he’ll tell me if I go way over the line, which he has.” He glanced behind them. “Still, it’s obvious he’s not interested anymore, but she’s still pressing. That’s rough.”

“Mmm,” said Gavi as she unhooked her sword belt. “Though it’s not always easy to see that when you’re one of the people involved.”

Mazik grunted. “True. Think we should step in yet?”

They rounded the corner. Several benches had been set up behind the kennel, opposite three man-sized targets set against the wall. Both the stone targets and the wall behind them were crusted and burned where evocation spells had been cast at them over and over, yet the fortified stone looked no worse for the disfiguration. It was as solid as ever, even when it looked extra crispy.

Gavi shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think I can do anything personally, at least. She might think I want him for myself.”

“Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think Raedren is your type.”

Gavi flashed him a lopsided grin. “You know, I think you’re right. The beard would have to go, at least. It would be like kissing a rug.”

Mazik pantomimed writing on his hand. “Mental note: never grow a beard.”

Gavi froze in the middle of putting her sword belt down.

“The next time I see Kalenia, I don’t want her first thought to be ‘tastes like rug.’”

I almost thought—
Gavi willed her heart to slow down as she sat, laying her sword behind her. “Hey, some women like it,” she added jovially.

Mazik shrugged out of his robes and sat in front of her, his back to her. “Hyra, for instance.”

The two of them laughed.

Mazik laid his robes on the bench next to them, then flexed his shoulders, loosening up. Even through his slate gray tunic, Gavi could see his muscles clearly. He wasn’t overly muscular, but he definitely had definition, and even more so now than before they started adventuring, which was—
and I should stop thinking about this if I ever want to get any training done.

“Ready?” Mazik was facing the wall, his right hand raised and the blue gemstone in his Telman class ring glowing faintly.

Gavi closed her eyes and rested her hand on Mazik’s back. It was large, and warm, and firm—and she banished those thoughts as well. For keen training, she had to sense exactly how Mazik created each spell, paying attention to how his mana moved so she could duplicate it. That required intense concentration, and she
would
have focus.

After several moments of silence, she nodded. “Ready.”

Her awareness of her surroundings had already faded. With her hand resting within Mazik’s personal mana barrier, she could peer past his defenses and sense what was happening beneath. His mana pool was a bright warmth, a swirling hum that mimicked the larger mana winds that brushed their skins. She swam through it, searching for the strong current of a spell being prepared. She found it, and followed it to its source.

Roiling, spitting discord greeted her. Mazik was casting an evocation spell, and at first blush it felt like chaos. There seemed to be no rhythm or rhyme to the churning anarchy, the threads snapping and tearing as they folded in on themselves, folding over and over, the mana snarling as it grew agitated, building to a fever pitch. Gavi looked for patterns, but it was all light and sound, noise and motion, and none of it made sense.

“
Mazik Missile.
”

The mana rushed to a point as if it were air being inhaled, and then it shot away like a loosed arrow. Gavi could hear the spell sizzle against one of the stone targets.

“Again?” asked Mazik.

Gavi’s eyes remained closed, her attention sharp, her face set in a determined line. “Again.”

Gavi didn’t know how much time passed. But after several more spells, a voice penetrated her meditative fog.

She opened her eyes, blinking against the light. She found Caspian approaching them from the perimeter fence. He was wearing his usual green vest, though the clothes beneath it were rumpled. There were also bags under his eyes, and he was sporting a scratchy moss of facial hair that he could not pull off. He waved cheerfully when Gavi looked up.

“What did you say?” she asked muzzily. She swung her legs to one side of the bench to face him.

“I asked if evocation was what you had decided to focus on.” Caspian took a seat on the bench parallel to Gavi and Mazik’s.

Gavi had been wondering that herself. She knew there were two schools of thought when it came to teaching magick, beyond keen training versus traditional. Some teachers preferred to focus on a single school of magick until the student was comfortable with it, whereas others preferred to teach every school at once, to give the students a solid foundation, before going deep on the ones they’re best at. In her casting career, Gavi had tried both, to little avail. She still sucked at everything but enhancement.

Right now she was testing out keen training with every school, to see if she had an affinity with one more than the others. The results had been predictably disappointing, which meant it was up to her. If she wanted to get better as quickly as possible—and she did—she had to specialize. The question was in what.

“No, I don’t think so,” she said finally. She thought back to Hectre, one of their allies from the New Lyfe Gang quest. While she hadn’t been interested in him, no matter how much he flirted—though to his credit, he had taken the hint—she
had
been interested in the way he fought. She saw him use force magick—alteration—to bat aside projectiles, close the gap between himself and enemies, and push opponents off balance. If Gavi could get better at any school, it would be protection, but since she was absolutely abysmal at that, alteration seemed like a good second choice.

She said as much. Caspian nodded his agreement. “I know what you mean! I’m the same way—totally lousy at protection.” He laughed. “I put a lot of effort into getting better at alteration precisely because it’s so flexible. Plus”—he rattled his quiver—“a little push is good for keeping enemies far enough away for me to shoot ’em.”

“I, for one, approve of this idea,” interjected Mazik. “If you get good at force magick, then we won’t have to slow down for you when we’re traveling.”

Gavi swatted at him, and Mazik ducked. She got him on the backswing.

While Mazik was sniggering, Gavi crossed her arms. “So yeah, that’s my plan. I’ll probably knuckle down and focus on alteration after this.”

“Want help?” The younger man shrugged out of his quiver and bow. He smiled, though it looked tired. “I could use something simple to focus on.”

Gavi didn’t hesitate. “That would be great.”

Two hours later, Mazik and Caspian flopped onto the benches. “That’s enough for me,” said Caspian. He pulled at his shirt, trying to cool himself. “I’m tired.”

Mazik grunted as he rubbed his shoulder. He could feel the dull edge of casting exhaustion. It was like hunger combined with muscle fatigue, only distributed throughout his entire body. “Seconded.”

Gavi didn’t respond. She stood with her back to them, her concentration focused inward. Her shoulders rose as she took a deep breath, then she lifted her hand and aimed. “
Gust.
”

Nothing happened. Mazik could feel her mana moving, but it wasn’t quite right. It was close, though. Closer than earlier today, and much closer than before they had arrived. Gavi had been practicing magick for nearly as long as Mazik had, and with far less success. He had always wondered whether he would have kept at it as long as she had.

Maybe. I’d like to think so, but I don’t know
, he decided as she tried again. The spell fizzled. She set her feet, took a deep breath, and tried again.

“Is she always like this?” asked Caspian.

“Only when she gets determined,” said Mazik as he stood. “So yes, all the time.”

Once Mazik had convinced Gavi to take a break, they reassembled inside the kennel. Raedren and Hyra, who were already there, joined them.

While Hyra was brewing a pot of tea, Raedren passed out rations. Mazik took several of the biscuits, which had been stuffed with cured meats and mushrooms, and immediately devoured them.

Caspian—who, as the youngest, had instinctively opted to sit on the floor—let out a long sigh. “Gods, I wish I didn’t have to go back to work soon.”

“I hear that,” said Mazik between bites.

“Guard duty or investigation?” asked Hyra. Her back was turned to the group.

“Investigation,” said Caspian.

Hyra’s voice was lightly teasing. “Weren’t you the one who offered to help with that?”

Caspian grumbled, staring up at the ceiling. After a few moments of noncommittal muttering, he lurched forward and slapped the ground. “Okay. Let’s think about where we go from here.”

They all fell silent, eyes turned away as they scoured their brains. Even Raedren and Hyra, who weren’t involved in the investigation, considered the situation.

Mazik tapped his chin. He was beginning to wish he had taken the time to befriend some of their new guildmates back in Houk, or even some of the guards they had worked with, so they would have someone to call and ask for advice. He tried to think of where else they could get guidance.

“Hey, Rae,” said Mazik after a long pause. “You ever read any mystery books?”

Raedren immediately leapt to the correct assumption. “Are you looking to mystery novels for how to investigate a real crime?”

“I’m trying to.”

Caspian frowned. “I thought you said you’d done this before?”

“It’s brainstorming, kid,” said Mazik, not missing a beat. “Sometimes ideas from weird places lead to an unexpected insight.”

Raedren sighed. “Yes, I’ve read mystery novels.”

“I have too,” said Hyra. She shuffled over to the group, her tray of teacups wobbling dangerously.

“Here, let me get that,” said Gavi, smoothly rescuing their drinks.

“So, tell me what you think. So far, we have no evidence that General Ordwinn knew anything.” Mazik nodded his thanks as Gavi handed him a teacup. “It’s hard to believe he wouldn’t have known about his wife collaborating with their enemies, but we can’t find any evidence that he knew, either. We also don’t know what Rhea’s motives were, so it’s hard to know why General Ordwinn might have helped her—though, if he did, I don’t know why he stayed behind, since he can’t do much while under house arrest.”

“Do you think he was in on it?” asked Raedren.

Mazik shrugged. “I dunno. I’m thinking he wasn’t, but we don’t have any other leads. Plus, they’re not gonna let him go until we know one way or the other.”

Gavi finished handing out the tea and held the tray to her chest. “I agree. I’m leaning toward him not having known, but I’m still not sure.”

Mazik nodded. “So, where would your mystery book people go from here?”

Raedren scratched his beard. “Well, there’s an old saying: follow the money. Who stands to gain from the Noble Hunt recreating the Nijāst breeding program?”

“Other than the Noble Hunt?” asked Mazik. “And assumedly Rhea.”

“Obviously.”

Gavi handed the tray back to Hyra and sat down. “There may be groups outside the village who would benefit from a more powerful Noble Hunt—their allies, if they have any, or customers who would benefit from your monopoly being broken—but they wouldn’t know how to get here. So you mean people inside the village, right?”