Looming Shadow: Journey to Chaos book 2 (16 page)

Shadow Dengel disappeared in a cloud of
darkness and reappeared at Eric's side, patting his head.
You remembered my
lecture! You have touched my heart, my dear student.

Eric's fists clenched, and again, he
struggled not to lash out. Rationally, he knew he wouldn't hit anything, but
smacking that
smug bastard
would be emotionally gratifying!

Kasile, what do you make of this?

Either King Epideus of Latrot wants to
kill you for some unfathomable reason or that troll acquired black market ordercraft
from Latrot's civil war years ago. My money is on the latter, but I can't rule
out the former. My ordercraft team is on their way and they will determine the
truth.

There's one more possibility.

Yes?

Nulso Xialin A.K.A Harry Butchin. He
stalked a friend of mine and almost killed me when I defended her. Could he and
Gruffle be working together?

Possibly. Ordercrafters can charm
objects for use by non-ordercrafters. This fact is –

The
sound of five pairs of boots distracted Eric. A group of five young women tore
down the hallway and into main hall. They wore light armor made from silver-grey
metal and studded with red-gold emblems. Their chest plates, gauntlets, and
greaves were decorated with the royal Ataidar Crest. Around their waists were
segmented skirts made of four plates with each plate representing an animal
from the Avatar Alliance. Around their foreheads was a circlet bearing an Eye
of Order crossed out with red-gold. Each of them had a different hair color,
yet all of them had strands of silver-grey mixed in; they reminded him of
Kallen's strands of golden-brown. When they saw him, they stopped and said, “Trickster's
Choice.”

He
slouched. “Yes...What about these guys?”

One of
them stepped forward. Eric assumed she was the leader by her more ornate armor.
She also had the least grey hair among the five and the rest was a shade
lighter than the golden-brown of elves. It was shoulder length and covered by a
transparent red veil held in place by the circlet. She produced a badge that
depicted the Eye of Order imprisoned in the claws of Ataidar’s Crowned Tiger.

“I am
Kimberly Johnson, leader of Her Majesty’s Ordercraft Security and Compliance
Team. Please step aside and allow us to perform our jobs.”

“Sure.”
He turned around and Kimberly spoke up again.

“Please
stand by because I will need to debrief you. Also, don’t try to cloak yourself
because I will still be able to see you.”

“Sure.”

Kimberly
turned to address the other four. “Taylor Jones, Daniela Cranston, Thuy Kwan,
and Jasmine St. John, you know your specialties. I want to know everything
about these armors in five minutes. Understand?”

“Yes,
ma’am!”

They
dispersed to check each body. They ran a scanning device over them and jotted
down the readings. They traced with their hands and eyes for reasons that Eric
could only guess. Only sparingly did they use the eldritch light of Order. When
they finished with one suit, they switched to another. The fifth kept watch
over Eric. She sized him up with a mixture of suspicion, curiosity, and disappointment.

“Your
hair is solid red.” Not sure what else to do, Eric nodded. “He'll change that
soon enough.”

Tasio wants to change my hair color?

An
ethereal hand descended on his shoulder and another settled on his head. Shadow
Dengel stood behind him and his shroud draped over him.
I have
figured it out. You never will.

Order's power leaches the color out of
their hair as it does everything.
Eric
answered to remind himself and not because an arrogant figment of his
imagination challenged him to.
Chaos' power stains what it
touches golden-brown because that's what chaos looks like inside a world fruit.
Kallen has it because she was in the Siduban Chaos Explosion.

The
four ordercrafters consulted with each other, then stood and returned to their
leader's side like planets orbiting a sun.

The
black-haired one, Taylor Jones, stepped forward. Eric noted that her hair was
unusually long for a soldier, down her back. He also noticed that her bangs
were as even as a ruler, and two side locks came down to her shoulders. She
saluted and said, “This humble one traced the metal to a mine in Anich and it
was likely processed in Liclis before being shipped elsewhere. There are no
identifying marks other than the runes.”

The
redhead, Jasmine St. Jones, stepped forward. Her hair was short enough to be a
crew cut. She saluted and said, “
I
determined the runes to be standard ordercraft for
creating automatons with extra for deflecting or negating mana. Absorbing runes
are not present. If someone wanted to make anti-mage weapons, these would be
effective.”

The
brunette, Daniela Cranston, stepped forward. Her hair was in a braided tail. By
now, Eric was putting a puzzle together. This was the fourth distinctive
hairstyle and hair color. She saluted and said, “
As for me, I
can’t find any trace of necro or soulcraft. They’re purely automatons.
The only thing animating them was their control crystal. It is unlikely that
anyone has worn any of these suits.”

Is it deliberate? Let’s
see…Ordercrafter means Order philosophy which means….

The
blunette, Thuy Kwan, stepped forward. Her hair was in a bun. She saluted and
said, “My evaluation can confirm that because I sense no hostility in these
suits. Nor do I not see a connection to Epideus or his lieutenants. They were
either enchanted by an impersonal force like Latrot’s Grand Obelisk or an
unregistered and stoic ordercrafter.”

 “I see,”
Kimberly said. “The fact that a common thug had access to this technology will
assist Her Majesty and Abbott Tolis in their media war against King Epideus. My
thanks to you all.”

They
put their hands over their hearts and said, “We only seek to fulfill Her
Majesty’s will.”

“Mr. Watley,
have you encountered ordercrafters before?” Kimberly asked.

“Yes. I
fought one working for a slaver in Acemo and he was killed by an orc. I also
fought one right here in Roalt – Nulso Xialin/Harry Butchin, whatever you want
to call him. He is still at large because The Trickster didn’t kill him.”

“D
o
you know of any reason why Mr. Gruffle would want to kill you badly enough to
sneak into the castle with ordercraft contrabands?”

Eric shook his head. “He tried to kill me
as soon as we met.”

“It could be your status as Trickster's
Choice. There are accounts of your kind being scapegoated for the misfortune of
others because of their association with the Overturner of Fortune.”

The
scene in the training yard played out again in Eric's mind; the drill sergeant
immediately assumed he was responsible because he was there at the time. Other
scenes spun themselves out of whole cloth: a girl locked in stocks because
clothes were missing or a boy beaten because of a failed hunt.
It's
Tasio's fault, but his chosen are the ones punished. If one isn't around, then
make one. A social convention born out of frustration and the amusement of
tricksters....

“Can I
go now?”

“You
may
go, yes,” she replied.

He
decided to check the infirmary for his teammates. It
was on the
same floor, but he got lost all the same. Fortunately, passing soldiers and
servants were happy to give him directions. They were wary of him, but it was
more of a “he's gonna tie my shoe laces together” kind of wary than a “dirty
mercenary” kind of wary. Shadow Dengel insisted it was both. It floated ahead
of him and blocked the doorway.
They don't want to see you.

Eric closed his eyes, inhaled, exhaled, and
opened his eyes. He saw a door marked by a pair of crossed white staves. Unlike
the one in his guild, this one was topped by an overlooking Crowned Tiger. He
opened the door and it was like looking into another world.

It was a pristine room with white walls and
plenty of window light. It smelled of mint and antiseptic instead of dirt or
sweat. He stepped inside and the healer on duty made sure he wasn't carrying
pranks in his pockets. Then she allowed him inside.

Every cot had a stack of trainee armor next
to it, crisp sheets spread over it, and a teenager lying on top of it. Compared
to the outside hustle and bustle, this room had only peaceful chatter. It was
about either an “amazing fighter” or an “arrogant mercenary.” After rounding
the corner, he found the former. She sported a black eye, a busted lip, and was
holding an ice pack to her left leg.

“Can't stay out of
trouble, can you, Tiza?”

She smirked in
response.

Just like the trainees,
her gear was stacked next to her bed and, without her gauntlets on, Eric could
see her scar. It was two jagged red lines running down both sides of her lower
left arm. Memories flashed in his mind: xethras rushing, Tiza's shield
breaking, hearing her scream.

“How's that scar feeling?”

“Oh, this?” Tiza traced
the lines with her fingertips. “Great! All these tents in armor went mad with
jealousy when they realized I've seen real action.”

“It's what caused the
brawl,” Nolien said.

He was sitting on the
cot next door, tending to a female recruit. She looked to be Tiza's age, but
Eric got the impression that she was younger. He chalked it up to the fan-girlish
glee with which she chatted with Tiza. Like her, she was bruised and battered,
but one of her legs was elevated.

“Tenderfoot, I was just
doing what Queen Tent Burner hired me to: Ease their burden by showing them how
easy their training is.”

“You were
mocking
us!” said a boy from across the aisle; he too had a black eye, his nose was
patched, and he held an ice bag to his waist. “You called us 'cowardly, weak-armed,
and dickless.'”

“That last one is
entirely justified. When I kicked you there, you screamed like a girl.”

The boy winced in
remembrance. “That was a cheap shot!”

Tiza sent him a smug
look. “
Mercenary.
”

“You're horrible.” 

“No, she's amazing!” the
fan-girl recruit said. “She kicked your ass and two other guys’ at the same
time
with her eyes closed
! She can even kill xethras!”

“
Kill
a
xethras?”
We barely got out of there alive!

“Don't you remember?”
Tiza asked her teammate. “That one shattered my shield and I shattered its jaw.
Then it died.”

That's technically
true…

Tiza held up her arm so
everyone could see. Up in the light, it looked even nastier. The recruits
nearby gazed upon it in awe while those further away moved closer. They all
wanted to hear its story again. With a smile, Tiza complied and Eric rubbed his
eyes.

The number of times
he'd seen Tiza smile – really smile – he could count on one hand. Beaming, she
told the story of her journey through the Yacian Caverns and her audience paid
rapt attention. “
It'll be a great story to tell,”
she said while they
were still in the caverns and still in danger.
Apparently with creative
license.

The only boy not
entranced was Daven, the boy she kicked in the balls earlier. While Tiza was
describing their “strategic withdrawal,” he shouted. “One of these days, I'm
gonna kill an S class!” All eyes turned to him, including Tiza's fan-girl.
Emboldened, he went on to say, “Yeah, I'll do it and bring back more proof than
it bit me! I'll bring back its head and present it to Her Majesty!”

“Do that and you'll be
carrying your own,” Tiza said. “You're a thousand years away from S class.
Stick to the training yard.”

“I swear to The
Trickster I'll do it!”

A tricksterish grin
bloomed on Eric's face. “If you're so confident, then say his name.”

The boy paled.

“Yes, I'm his choice.
I'll make sure he gets the message. Say it!” The shadows under the boy's bed
stirred and spooked the other candidates. “He'll make your life so interesting,
a C class monster will be the least of your worries. Say it! Say it three
times!” The boy shifted in his comfortable bed and looked down. “That's good.
You won't run headlong into danger like her.”

He jerked his thumb at
Tiza. The warrior arose from her cot, smacked him upside the head, and returned
in mid-step. Then she continued her story and everyone forgot his warning while
listening to her talk about diving headlong into a monster pack and routing the
lot of them. Their only thoughts were about their turn for action and glory and
adventure.

Tasio, are you
listening to this? Perhaps they need a stronger warning.

By the time Tiza retold
her duel with Tej (the version where she did not have to wear a skirt), Daven
had slipped out of the room, saying he needed a bathroom break. Knowing what
the kid was really up to, Eric followed him.

To make sure he wasn't
spotted, Eric wrapped himself in Dark Veil. After that, no one noticed him; not
the soldiers, not the servants, and not the
other
hidden invisible
people in the hallways. The Trickster's Choice moved among them unseen as he
pursued the troublesome boy to the courtyard.