Rise of the Retics (11 page)

“What you say girl name is?” Jin asked, having already forgot.

“Tyranna Wolfskin,” replied both Gnemo and Tyranna in unison, both their patience beginning to fade.

Jin studied the list very carefully for what seemed to Tyranna to be an eternity. He looked at it close up to his face and then pushed it further away. He turned it sideways, upside down and backward, but still could not find her name.

“I no see her on the list. You look and tell me if you see name.” Jin took to one knee and handed the paper to Gnemo.

Tyranna glanced over his shoulder and saw that it only had one name on the entire thing and it was hers “Oh, there it is! That one is me.” She pointed to the only name on the list.

“Oh. You right. It was hard to see. You can go in now.” Jin and Tonix each moved to the side, finally allowing the two weary travelers access into the city. Gnemo tipped his tall blue-green hat to them as he passed.

As the two guards separated, a whole new world appeared in front of Tyranna’s eyes. Everywhere she looked creatures of all shapes, sizes and colors hustled through. There were numerous gray stone shops lined up on either side of the cobbled pathway, with hundreds of customers happily haggling prices and bartering for the goods they needed. Never once in her life had Tyranna seen so many creatures at one time, not even back at the harbor. Her heart raced with excitement as she darted her eyes from one side of the path to the other, trying to take everything in at one time.

“Ah, quiet this afternoon,” remarked Gnemo as he sniffed the air. “And it smells like old Flak is roasting pig today. We’re lucky; it’s one of his specialties. We should definitely have lunch right after we see Lord Laszlo.

The wafting smell of roasting meat and freshly baking breads sent a pang of hunger through her stomach. All she’d had since yesterday was a few nuts and berries, plus the snack that had been left for her in Gnemo’s room. She nodded her agreement to Gnemo’s suggestion of lunch..

“If you’re alright with it, after that we can visit my family. I have a cousin just about your age who I think you’ll love. She’s a bit of a unique young lady, but she’s very sweet.”

Tyranna had never had a girl for a friend before. Or for that matter been friends with anyone her own age. She was delighted by the suggestion.

“Allow me to be your guide, Tyranna,” said Gnemo in a loud and proud voice as they continued their trek down the busy cobbled path. “The large open building on your left is the blacksmith. The Greybeards run that place, a very large dwarf family. It’s very easy to tell a Greybeard kin because each one of them looks like a tornado full of soot just hit them. Rumor has it that when they’re clean most of them actually have red hair, but that’s never been proven since no one alive has ever seen one clean. The older dwarf in there hammering is Angus Greybeard. He’s the master smith and the patriarch of the family. If you ever need metal working done, doesn’t matter what kind—steel, gold, silver—he can do it all. He keeps the
Rover
busy with supply requests, that’s for sure.”

Tyranna peered inside the smith and saw that Gnemo wasn’t exaggerating. Angus was an older dwarf, barking orders to his younger apprentices like they were his servants. He was the perfect image of filth, sweating buckets from the intense heat of the forge. His hair, face, and body were covered with soot, ash, and smoke. His long beard was so disheveled it look like each individual hair picked a direction and tried to escape from his face but just couldn’t get far enough away to make it to freedom. Tyranna saw that Gnemo had waved a hello, but Angus was too engrossed in his work to notice the little Gnome’s gesture.

“And over to your right,” Gnemo continued, “just past the guard tower, you’ll see Flak’s Fire Roasted Meats, that’s where that nice smoky pork odor is coming from. You’re going to love that place. Nothing locks in flavor better than meat cooked with dragon’s fire.”

“Did you say . . . dragon’s fire?” asked Tyranna excitedly. “There are dragons here?”

“Yea, there are a few. Most of the dragons left in the world preferred to live on their own after the war, but a few moved here to make their lives.” Gnemo leaned close to Tyranna’s ear before continuing “You know . . . the little ones. The ones that couldn’t really protect themselves. But never say that to their faces, or they’ll burn your eyebrows right off with one breath.”

There was something about a gnome calling any dragon little that made Tyranna chuckle. Dragons had always fascinated her as far back as she could remember. Almost every traveler that visited Lipkos had a story about one. Usually in their stories knights slayed them and always proved victorious, but in her head every now and then, the dragon would win. She figured there was no way all dragons were evil, and certainly not all knights were good. It would just be far too convenient that way.

“Back over on your left is the produce store, called Flavors of the Forest. You can buy most of your fruits and vegetables there. Berries, nuts and seeds too.”

Tyranna noticed a plump green-skinned woman singing to the apples. She appeared very happy, but her voice was so shrill that it was painful to listen to. 

Next to that was the bakery, owned by a group of elves, and an apothecary, run by Gnemo’s aunt, Gnaomi.

While she knew Gnemo pointed out far more stores than that, she was feeling a bit overwhelmed and couldn’t remember what each one was. Everything was just so much bigger and crazier than she had ever experienced before. Her biggest concern was not getting run over by all the creatures rushing up and down the road past them.  She figured she would have plenty of time to learn where everything was after she had settled in a bit.

After about a half hour of walking through the gigantic city with Tyranna desperately trying not to stare at the more unique looking retics, they arrived at the Alabaster Tower, home of Lord Laszlo. It was an impressive white marble building, centered directly on a piece of land that sat in the middle of a small, crystal clear lake. The building stood far taller than the city walls and the guard towers, peering out over the entire island. Coming from each direction, four stone bridges connected the city to their main government building, where the singular entrance was guarded by two small, furry gray creatures, each with gigantic bushy tails. Both guards wore a long white tabard with a symbol Tyranna had never seen before—two silver handled rapiers, crossing through a large brown acorn.

“Those are Florensians, but we call them squirrel-kin. They serve as Lord Laszlo’s personal bodyguards. Be careful around them, they are a proud people and are quick to anger. Whatever you do, make sure you don’t make any rodent jokes . . . they’ve been known to kill for that.”

The guards stood stoically at their post, paying little attention to the two visitors until Tyranna took a step too far. Just before her foot came down on the stone bridge that led across, Gnemo grabbed Tyranna and yanked her back. Both of the Florensians were now staring with their paws resting tensely upon their swords.

“I probably should have told you, we’re not allowed to step on the bridge before we present ourselves. Please, keep in mind before we continue that the Florensians are not like the guards we met at the entrance. They are smarter, faster, and a lot more dangerous. Not to mention that they take their job very, very seriously. They stab first, second, and third, and if they have time, ask questions fourth.” Gnemo turned his attention back to the guards, who were eagerly waiting to draw their blades. “No need for violence gentlemen. I’m Gnemo Gnogglebottom from the
Wild Rover
. Admiral Brownstache sent me in his place. I bring with me Tyranna Wolfskin, a new citizen of Rosehaven. We were not due in for several weeks, but we are expected.”

The Florensians relaxed their muscles before the taller of the two squirrels responded. “You may enter. Lord Laszlo is already aware of your arrival. All weapons stay here.” Tyranna raised her hands to show she carried nothing on her. She was surprised to see her companion removing a variety of knives from hidden places around his body—inside pockets, boots, even one under his hat. He handed them over to the shorter guard, while the taller one patted them both down to ensure that all had been relinquished.

“Follow me,” said the shorter one, as he handed Gnemo’s cache of daggers over to his partner. He turned and walked into the tower. Tyranna followed, trying hard to keep the fur from the guard’s tail from hitting her in the face. He seemed to either not notice or not to care.

The first floor of the alabaster building was sparse—no furniture, tapestries, or people. All Tyranna could see was a set of winding stone stairs leading up into higher levels of the tower. The Florensian guard led them up the stairs, his hand noticeably close to his sword hilt at all times.

Tyranna felt as nervous as she had at any point since boarding the
Rover
, and that was including the few minutes cannon balls were flying right at her and when gargoyles were trying to claw her face off. The most important person she had ever met in life was the abbot at the monastery, and all he did was lead a group of monks. Today she was going to meet the ruler of an entire civilization!

As they climbed the endless stone steps, Tyranna’s legs began to ache. She assumed the exhausting steps were another defense against any armored men getting up here. They would pass out and roll back down long before reaching the lord protector. Tyranna looked over at Gnemo and saw that he was struggling with the steps even more than she was. His short legs had to battle to complete each level. The Florensian seemed to be having no trouble at all, bounding lightly from step to step like it was flat ground. 

After a grueling few minutes of climbing, they arrived at the top floor. As Tyranna entered the room she noticed there were no walls, just an array of white marble pillars holding the roof up and exposing the room to a flood of sunlight, a light breeze, and a breathtaking view. As she looked out she could see for miles—the busy city surrounding the tower, a large dense forest to the North, farmlands to the west, the harbor in the south, and a rocky hilled area to the east. Each was surrounded by the clear blue water of the ocean as far as the eye could see. As she looked down at Market Row, the retics she had just passed looked like ants scurrying around the ground. Heights had never bothered her, as she had shown on Melvin’s back, but this was a different feeling. Her heart pounded with a strong yearning to fly out into the open air and soar across the beautiful island nation.

“Jaxon Miniheart, what are we to do with you?” The words grabbed Tyranna’s attention from the view. She peered over at four men talking among a ring of stone chairs. Two of the men stood up. The first, a small one with red skin and a long pointy tail. and the second, a much larger creature with short powerful legs covered in fur. She couldn’t see either of their faces from where she was standing. The third man was sitting in one of the stone chairs, on a raised semi-circle platform in the center of the room. The platform was made of the same white marble that the pillars and floor had been constructed from.

“That’s Lord Laszlo,” whispered Gnemo. The man he indicated was quite tall with clean chiseled features. His skin was light, though not quite as pale as hers. His hair was long and draped over his shoulders, grayed to sharp silver that glinted in the sunlight. He wore a long, well-groomed beard, its silvery color a perfect match to the hair on top of his head.  The three men appeared to be in a serious discussion.

“I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to return to Sir William’s home.”

“But, Lord Laszlo, the boy only took a few oranges. Surely—” Lord Laszlo raised his hand for silence and Sir William cut off his own words mid-sentence.

“This is not a punishment, Billy. I believe you have done as good a job raising Jaxon as anyone on this island could have. Circumstances have changed though. The boy has powers that you cannot possibly hope to control or to teach him to use responsibly. It has been many years since Rosehaven has been blessed with a child with the ability to control the elements. It is a rare gift indeed, and one that cannot be left unchecked. For that reason, I have decided that the best place for him is at Thales.”

The looks on Sir William, the red-skinned boy, and the Florensian guard all turned to shock. 

“School! You’re gonna make me go to school?!” Jaxon screamed his words at the lord protector. Upon seeing the angry outburst, Laszlo’s guard jumped from behind the stone chair to position himself between the riled young boy and his lord. The gray fur on the Florensian bodyguard stood at attention.

“Relax please, Alastar. The boy’s just letting off some steam. I did the same thing often when I was his age, many, many years ago. The instructors at Thales will help him work on that temper.” Sir William placed his large hand over the boy’s shoulder, half as a comfort and half as a restraint.

“It’s for the best, Jaxon,” whispered Sir William. Though his words said otherwise, his eyes showed that he wasn’t sure he agreed with his own advice. “Respectfully, Lord Laszlo,” Sir William began, “the students that attend Thales have been training for years. They have gone through numerous interviews and tests. Think of the backlash if Jaxon is accepted because he bested another child in the arena after being accused of a crime!” The Florensian guard sneered at Sir William as he spoke. Tyranna wondered why.

“Sir William, one of the benefits and burdens of being in charge for so long is that sometimes I must make decisions that will upset some people for the good of the nation. This is one of those times. Jaxon will be a much greater benefit to Rosehaven after he has learned to control his emotions and his abilities. Without that training, he might be a danger to everyone.” The lord protector looked directly at Jaxon before he continued. “Young man, when we took you in more than a decade ago I made a promise to your mother that you would be safe. I’m not about to let that promise go unfulfilled.” Jaxon looked quite upset, but didn’t respond to Laszlo’s words. He kept his head pointed toward the floor.