Chapter 15

“The Isle of Vand is a quiet refuge governed by its own people. Every fifty or so years, someone tries to take it over and fails. Any boats that get near are besieged by fireballs, and any man who swims there, never returns.”

—Quote from the book Little Known Tribes and Kingdoms

Reyn noticed a man standing at the doorway from the floor above.

“Hey! Is anyone down there!” the man shouted.

Holding a bright lantern, the man could be seen, peering into the well-lit, fiery gloom of the basement. He put the lantern down onto the railing and pulled out his bow as he caught a glimpse of Reyn looking at him.

“Hey, you there, halt or I’ll shoot,” the man pointed.

Reyn said nothing as he ducked behind a wall of crates and boxes. As he did so, he got much closer to the fire and started coughing.

“Seff, shield me,” shouted Reyn.

Seff was making his way up the ladder to save Natali while in the process of casting another shielding spell for her.

“You’re going to have to wait,” said Seff.

“There’s a guy up there with a bow who’s going to shoot us.”

“Just hold on.”

Seff adjusted the newly aflame ladder against the shelf and finished the second shielding spell, casting it on Natali.

“Get down from there, Natali,” said Seff. “You’re shielded.”

“You could have shielded the ladder too,” Natali said as she started climbing down.

Seff groaned and ran over to the far end of the wall of crates and boxes, peeking his head around the corner. He could see the man change the direction the bow was aimed. As Seff eased his head back, an arrow cut through the space where his head had just been. He felt the breeze pass by his cheek and heard the crunching thud of it impacting wood. He began casting a lightning bolt spell as he looked back at Natali. He had forgotten to fill his wand with spells after stacking everything he had onto the iron door. His father would have been disappointed.

Natali was slowly climbing down from the ladder when he remembered that Reyn wasn’t shielded.

“Hold on, Reyn,” said Seff, “Going to shield you from the smoke and fire.”

“Hey,” shouted Reyn. “I don’t know who you are but could you put the bow away?”

“You ran, so now you’re dead; along with your buddy,” shouted the guard. “You shouldn’t have broken in.”

Seff rolled his eyes hoping it wouldn’t affect the spell too much and cast it onto Reyn. He then resumed the lightning bolt spell. Reyn hurried through the fire to him. Natali was close behind. Seff peered out from behind the crate to see what the guard was doing. The guard crept slowly towards the boxes, his bow drawn.

Reyn poked Seff in his neck and asked, “What are you going to do?”

Seff lost his concentration and the spell fizzled. Seff shot a glance to Reyn, “Don’t poke me in the neck. Tap me on the shoulder next time. Damn. We need to get out of here. Just be quiet so I can finish this spell,” Seff answered. He started casting again.

Natali finally reached them and only overheard ‘finish this spell’, so she asked with a moment’s hesitation, seeing as neither were talking, “What are we doing?”

“Dammit, be quiet. Let me finish the spell!” shouted Seff, an edge to his voice.

* * *

Woss Bilen’s nickname was Cardman.

His wife had left him years ago, and he blamed himself for it. A professional gambler, he played cards like an artist. His wife hadn’t minded at first, but after a while, his long absences had bothered her.

After she left, he quit playing cards and instead took up a night watchman job. He told his friends that he gave up cards since there was nobody to greet him when he came home after his triumphs. The hallways were empty as was the bedroom, and he had loved to tell grandiose stories of himself outfoxing the other players at the table to his wife.

But the truth was that, he had not quit because she had left him. Instead, within a few months of her leaving him, he lost his entire bankroll. Affecting his patience, mood, and timing, she had ruined his mental aptitude for the game.

He told his friends, all gamblers, that he had lost his love for the game. They pushed him all the same, unaware he had no money. One evening, they gave him chips, knowing that he would be good for it.

He lost those chips within an hour of being dealt his first hand. When he left, he said he would pay them back. He did, eventually, as he always had. He was honest and paid his debts. His friends continued to ask him to play with them. And each time, he declined. He told himself that it wasn’t that he was afraid to lose, but instead, that he didn’t find fun in it. He was sure he could get back into it, but his passion for the game had left him.

Holding a lantern up, he turned left around a counter. Every thirty minutes he would take a walk around. He knew he could hear if anything happened, but some burglars were quieter than others. He’d rather not be stabbed in the back.

He always brought cards with him to work and played with them occasionally. He’d play tricks with them, getting better at hiding the cards. At cheating. He imagined grand strategies and plays that would render him the winner over his competitors with a stone face, yet in reality, he would be cheating. Or maybe not, but it was good to have options.

He felt in his heart that a comeback into life and cards was inevitable for him. Soon. His mind had been feeling better recently. Her face had begun to blur, and he thought of her less frequently. The quiet nature of his work during those black hours of close had helped him.

He sat back down.

Quiet and safety. His hobby had been archery for the past five years. Had it been five? Or six? He couldn’t remember. The years ran together. He had even won some competitions with the bow. He could pick a man off, reliably, at a hundred paces.

Any thief who broke into Goff’s would be a dead thief. He chuckled at the thought.

Although he had gained a sagging round belly through the effortless guard work, he had grown to tolerate his new job. As much as he enjoyed the edge and thrill of the different card games, his sober nights bled exotic adventures and travel, something he had never experienced firsthand.

In the blackest corners of the world—and, in Cardman’s case, boxes and crates at Goff’s—rested some of the best and rarest of treasures. When no one else was awake, Cardman would explore some of the less-secure packages. He would peruse the shipping manifests, looking for interesting items. Occasionally, he would explore without looking anything up and disappoint himself. So many packages contained boring items. Hardly ever was there an animal, weapon or jewelry.

Cardman enjoyed this dangerous liberty often but never took anything and always resealed everything when he was done. He liked to gamble. It would cost him his job if anyone found out.

He was perusing the shipping logs when he heard something and then a scream. He cursed.

Shouldering the bow, he made sure he was ready. He had his sword, arrows, everything. First time in five years, maybe six, and he was going to kill someone. Unless they gave themselves up. But what thief gives up after being caught? They always run. He’d run, and he wasn’t even a thief.

He chuckled to himself at the excitement. He ran down a flight of stairs expecting someone to be on the ground floor. Nothing. He cursed again. The basement? Really? He wondered how they had gotten in. Maybe they had broken into the ground floor, very quietly, and walked down to the basement?

He grimaced. Goff’s would not be happy. He cursed again as he went down another flight and opened the door.

“Hey! Is anyone down there!” he shouted, panting. The sprinting, he wasn’t used to it. He took a deep breath.

The back of the basement was ablaze. He glimpsed something.

“Hey, you there, stay there or I’ll shoot.”

The thing moved, but he shot too late and missed. Barely.

There were a few muffled shouts and talking, but he couldn’t see anything, even with half the basement lit up in a celebration of lanterns and fire—what bold burglars. The entire building was going to burn down. However, the men upstairs could slow it down if he killed the burglars. They were trapped with no way out, he thought.

“Hey,” shouted someone. “I don’t know who you are but could you put the bow away?”

“You ran, so now you’re dead along with your buddy,” he said. “You shouldn’t have broken in.” He hoped they would give themselves up or try to flee or hide. He could shoot them in the back, just like practice. Or, he could aim lower. Maybe only wound them. He didn’t know what they were armed with.

He heard more talking, so he crept closer, his bow drawn. The fire had spread across the back walls, and the floor was an inferno in places.

“Dammit, be quiet. Let me finish the spell!” shouted a different voice.

He was too far away from the stairs to run. A sorcerer was behind the box, a single one he was sure, as sorcerers were rare. He pulled out his sword and ran towards the edge of the crate wall. His plan was to sprint from the end of the wall and kill whoever had the wand or staff; they would be the sorcerer.

He thought about charging around the corner with his bow, but what if they were right there. They could just take it away from him or pounce upon him. He would have to run and hope he reached them before the sorcerer killed him.

“Run!” he heard them shout.

It made him angry that he had gained so much weight. Don’t run. He cursed.

He turned the corner running and could see them right there. Just a few yards away. They were slow. Praise the gods! He sprinted after them with renewed vigor. They were almost within swiping distance. He continued to gain until they began pulling away. They all skidded around a corner. He almost had them, but he slid too far. He almost fell, but kept pursuit.

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He choked on the smoke and coughed. His lungs burned, and his arms felt weak. Surely, he couldn’t be faulted for letting a quick sorcerer and his friends get away. He turned around and lost his balance. His sword clanged into the wood floor. He slipped, recovered and started running away.

He heard the crack and felt a jolt of pain. He fell and slid. Pinned beneath his body, his left arm scraped across the floorboards. He lost consciousness.

* * *

When he heard the clattering sound of the claymore, Seff panicked, thinking the man was directly behind him.

Seff’s spell had only needed a few more seconds. The distance gained by running had afforded him the extra time. However, he had found it harder to cast the spell on the run, so it had taken longer than he had expected. Still though, he knew the man was behind him and he needed to act or die.

He turned around and shot the man in the back with a lightning bolt. Natali, still running, looked back when she heard the lightning crack, and they both saw the man crumple face first, skidding along the sawdust covered floor, sliding away from them.

Natali stopped and ran back to Seff, shoving him with all her might onto the floor. She screamed, “What the hell was that? He was running away, you heartless, cutthroat, murdering bastard!”

Seff fell backwards hard onto the ground. His fall was only cushioned by his hands and forearms. The fire was nearly upon them. Flames licked the ceiling.

“I don’t know,” said Seff. “I didn’t know. I thought he was about to kill us.”

“He’s fat!” pointed Natali. “He’s a tub. He couldn’t catch us if he wanted to.”

“I heard a sound behind us—” started Seff.

“Did you kill him?” interrupted Reyn.

Simultaneously, Seff and Natali answered with ‘I hope so’ and ‘I hope not’, respectively. Natali responded with a kick to Seff’s leg as hard as she could while he lay on the ground. She glowered over Seff even as he tried to scoot away from her.

He was thankful that Natali did not have a sword.

Then her facial expression changed and then flashed back to what it had been, all within a moment—almost unnoticeable. But he saw it in her eyes and lips. It betrayed her, but, it couldn’t be. Natali wasn’t a sorceress, Seff knew.

That flash of a different facial expression--it was so similar to what he’d sometimes seen from his adopted father who was a fantastically skilled sorcerer. While casting spells, facial expressions—purposely kept hidden by skilled sorcerers for strategic reasons—would occasionally exhibit themselves externally before disappearing again. Even the best of sorcerers would sometimes let an expression slip for an instant. Swapping between different emotional states to ‘lock’ in the runes was necessary for sorcery, and if a sorcerer saw their expression, they could guess at what they were casting (and thus giving them an edge).

It had only been a flash and her face had returned to normal. Was she a sorceress? Seff’s heart skipped a beat.

Seff glanced to her hands—both visible, and Seff thanked the gods. No wand in her hand meant the spell would be ‘hot’, not stored. But he wondered if that was a good thing. Seff again panicked, knowing that if it was hot, she’d be able to cast it whenever she wanted. If she knew how, she didn’t need a wand to funnel the spell, only her hand or finger held in the general direction of where she wanted to cast it.

But what had happened, Seff wondered. She still stood over him. She could be casting the last spell, and his eyes focused on her lips, hoping to not see them move. If they moved, he was going to run as far away as he could as fast as he could. And maybe, just die.

The fiery warehouse raged around them, lighting Natali’s face for Seff to see.

He waited and an uneasy silence—what had it been, a few seconds?—developed.

He was not shielded. If she was a sorceress with a spell half-cast, she could kill him before he could do anything. His breathing stopped with pure fear and panic. Time seemed to slow. He was helpless. He almost cried out for help from Reyn, but he had no time. Even if he did, he feared his voice would not work.

To cast a full shielding spell took far more time than either a common lightning bolt or fireball.

And then, inexplicably, she turned and walked to Reyn, even as Seff scooted further away from her.

Seff was mistaken. She wasn’t a sorceress. She wasn’t casting a spell. She was just angry and maybe too emotional. And he was safe.

He breathed in with unbound exhilaration, saved from Natali’s wrath only by her unlucky fate.

She kicked Reyn in the shin. He heard her foot impact Reyn, and he winced. It took Reyn down to a knee on that one leg.

“You guys, we can’t just kill people,” she shouted in frustration, surrounded by smoke. Her voice echoed loud throughout the burning warehouse. After, she gave a blood-curdling scream and kicked Reyn in the other shin.

Reyn fell onto his side in pain. Reyn yelled at her, “He shot at us. He almost killed me. But it doesn’t matter. We need to leave, if I can stand.”

“It does matter. He was running away,” Natali pointed at the body, ignoring Reyn’s pleas. “He had charged us so that Seff wouldn’t kill him, but then he knew he couldn’t catch us so he ran. What the hell is the matter with you guys.” Natali crumpled onto the ground sobbing with her hands held up to her face.

Seff got up, and Reyn and Seff watched Natali on the ground crying with her hands covering her face, smoke swirling around them. Reyn coughed and wobbled up onto his feet.

“I hope he’s not dead,” Reyn said to him. “Seff, isn’t there a different spell you used?”

“No?”

A loud pop was heard in the warehouse, and both Seff and Reyn stepped back from the sound. It was the fire having exploded a crate or something.

“Nothing that stuns?” Reyn asked.

“I don’t think there is a stunning spell.”

“What happens if you don’t want to kill someone?” Reyn asked.

“Shut up,” sobbed Natali, rubbing her eyes. “He’s dead, and we need to go.” Natali sat up.

Seff said to Reyn, “Well, then I think, you just don’t shoot them if you don’t want them dead.”

“Guys…” Natali said.

“Well, go check on him,” Reyn pointed. “Maybe you didn’t kill him.”

“Fine, you guys run,” Seff said. “Everyone in town is going to be here soon, because that lightning bolt—if you didn’t notice—makes a lot of noise. And everything’s on fire and popping off. Run.”

“You’re the guy with the spells,” sniffled Natali, standing up, her face red and shiny with tears. “We need you with us.”

While sprinting over to the man, Seff said, “Fine, let me just make sure this guy isn’t going to burn to death—or something.” Seff reached him and rolled him over. He turned to Natali and paused. He didn’t want to tell her, but there was nothing else to say except, “He’s dead.”

“Dammit,” said Natali. “He was running away. There was no reason. No reason at all.” Reyn backed away from Natali just as she swung a right fist through where he had been. “Let’s go,” Natali said, sniffling.

They all went out through the melted door. The few pieces of loot that they had moved to the door to collect were left, forgotten. The fire behind them roared and crackled as it grew. When Reyn, Seff and Natali emerged from the tunnel into the barn, the barn was empty. They could hear the burning building, but more importantly, voices outside shouting.

“People are outside already,” said Reyn, looking through a crack.

“Hold on,” said Seff. “They don’t know what caused the fire, but we can’t be here, and that door is the only way out. They’re not even going to check in the barn for the next few minutes, because the main building is on fire. And if they do check, we can ambush them. We just need to find a way out.”

“Can’t we just pick the lock and sneak out?” said Natali.

“Out through the front? There are a lot of people out there making a lot of noise,” said Seff. “I think it’s safer to just knock a hole in the barn if we can and escape through there. Or, or do something. Hm, look for axes real fast, and if needed, I’ll coach Reyn what he needs to cast the spell to blast a hole in the barn.”

The three of them split up scouring the barn for any axe or similar tool that could be used. Between the narrowest of cracks in the barn, glimpses of yellow and orange could be seen. The fire could be seen to the left, and by the street, they could see the flicker of candles and lanterns.

Smoke eased up through the passageway, lit by thin daggers of light sifting through the wood panels. All the while, the fire’s roar intensified. Shouts came from the street.

“I found an axe,” shouted Natali, holding it up.

“Shhh,” said Reyn.

“Give it here,” waved Seff.

Natali handed the axe to Seff, who started chopping away. After only a few swings, Seff took off his shirt and handed it to Reyn. The axe dug into the wood boards, snapping them where it hit. Sometimes the axe got wedged tightly, and Seff would lever the axe up and down, freeing it. Seff’s swings were fast and fluid.

Soon, there was a workable hole in the barn, and they escaped into the grass lot surrounding the barn. A tall brick wall stood in front of them.

“Any ideas?” asked Natali.

Reyn and Seff eyed Natali before Seff ran back into the barn, only to appear again. He waved at them to come. He had found a heavy, tall ladder in the barn. The three of them dragged it to the wall, escaping into the streets.

They took a circuitous route back to their apartment hoping no one would remember them after the authorities found the ladder and traced which way they had gone. Seff didn’t entirely think it was necessary, but Reyn had thought of going around, and Seff was not going to argue. The three of them made it back to the apartment. Seff shut the door, and Natali slumped against the wall.

Before the bedside lantern was even lit, Natali squeaked out, “This smell is making me sick. We need somewhere else to meet.”

Seff choked out, “Sure, but it’s only this bad because the door has been closed all day.”

Reyn coughed.

Ignoring the excuse, Natali said, “Let’s meet at Nobbola Park at midnight. Bye.” Without waiting for a response, she left.

“Do you think I should go after her and make sure she’s alright?” asked Reyn.

“No, leave her alone. She’s upset that we killed the guard,” said Seff, lighting the lantern.

“And we didn’t get any loot.”

“She’s definitely angry at me, and then she probably feels a bit helpless at how the situation deteriorated.”

“She knocked over the lantern. It’s her own fault,” Reyn said.

“Which just adds to her guilt.”

“But that could have been any of us.”

“No, it’s definitely her fault the guard died. She set fire to the place.”

Opening the door, Reyn said, “This place stinks. I gotta go too.”

With that, Reyn left before Seff could say anything.

* * *

He was waiting for her.

Natali came home silently, creeping along the side of the house. She was dressed in her soot-covered dark purple sweater and brown pants. Her face looked like a dark smudgy mess while her hair was frazzled and burnt. Her sandals were scorched black with ash.

She opened the window she had left unlocked, looked both ways and stepped through. She turned around and shut the window behind her.

He coughed.

Natali squeaked and cursed, jumping in fright, turning around and pulling out her wand.

“Where were you?” her father, Falahgo, asked. Falahgo lit a lantern, adjusting it.

“At a friend’s house,” Natali answered, putting her wand back in a concealed pouch in the small of her back.

Falahgo smiled at the wreck in front of him, as if he had finally caught the last big one in a pond.

“Doing?” Falahgo asked.

Natali knew she looked as though she had been through a forest fire. Natali rolled her eyes calmly at her father and said, “Well, I was in charge of lighting the fire in the fireplace, and I didn’t open the flue. I didn’t realize it until the fire was going pretty heavily. I was in the kitchen with the others when we smelled smoke. By then it was a nice roaring fire. So, I stuck my head up there and opened the flue.”

“Hm. Did they wonder why you weren’t burnt?”

“Of course not. They don’t really notice stuff that well,” Natali said, trying to side-step her father.

“Who’s they?” her father asked, blocking Natali with his body.

“They are two boys who are very much gentlemen. One is a bit…hm…how can I say this? He’s an ass. He’s an ass who I don’t like much anymore. The other one just follows the ass around. I don’t know what their problem is, but sometimes I feel like killing both of them.”

“And?”

Natali frowned, “And what? Will I see them again? Will they ever see me ever again? I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. I’m going to bed. Can we talk tomorrow morning? I’m really tired.”

“Natali, I don’t think this can wait. You left a window unlocked, and I’ve been checking the house recently—locks and everything—and I noticed an unlocked window. I’m not trying to spy on you. What happened tonight? The truth.”

“I set a fire. I almost got burned, and the boys didn’t do anything to make it better. I don’t think I like either of them anymore. I’m really tired, father. Can I just go to sleep?”

“No. Why were you there? Are you romantically involved with one of them?”

“No. I was there just to talk. I have trouble sleeping.”

“Do you need my help?”

“No, I’m fine,” Natali said, wiping away tears before they could fall down her face.

He paused before speaking, looking at her closely. “If you’re fine, then why are you crying?”

“I—I’m just upset about everything tonight with the fire and just everything. Why are you selling everything? Are you in trouble?” Natali asked.

“Nothing I can’t handle, or at least, I think I’m alright, Natali. You’ll be the first one to know if I need help, but you’re changing the subject. You don’t cry. What happened? You can tell me.”

“The fire and the way they treated me like I was dumb. I’m not dumb, and they don’t treat me right half the time, and then I do one stupid thing, and they blame everything on me—I know they do. They blame everything on me.”

“Everything?”

“The fire, smoke, the yelling, me yelling at them, and everything else. It was a mess.”

“All because of a flue?”

Natali paused before saying, “Yes.”

“Did you help the fire along?”

Natali rolled her eyes and smiled while letting her shoulders and body sag in a relaxed and relieved way. “You know me; I, uh, do what I can.”

“It’s not your fault, Natali. They should have reminded you.”

“Well, it’s not really my fault entirely, but all the smoke and other, I guess, shouting just made me frustrated and angry. I know it’s not like me to cry about something silly, but it’s really late. I’m sorry I lied about hanging out with a girlfriend—I knew if I told you they were boys, you’d ask way too many questions. I’m sorry I left a window unlocked.”

“So, you’re going out again tomorrow?”

“At midnight. I need to talk to them.”

“Mind if I tag along to… teach them a lesson?” Falahgo said, pulling out a wand.

“Father!”

“You shouldn’t have friends who make you cry.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry. I just hate to see you cry, and there’s no reason for you to be crying unless they treated you badly. Why not hang out with a few girls instead? A couple of teenage boys are probably a whole lot of trouble.”

“Can I just sleep, please? We’ll talk tomorrow all about how much you want to confront them, and then maybe we can come to an agreement about when and where, alright?”

“They could be escaping this instant,” said Falahgo, smiling. “Can’t you just give me the address?”

“Father! You’re terrible. Stop teasing me. I’m going to sleep. Good night,” Natali finished as she pushed and squeezed by her father.

“Remember—just tell me an address and they’re taken care of, Natali.”

“They’re fine, father,” Natali said while turning back towards him. She kept climbing the stairs backwards as she finished with, “If they need to be dealt with, I’ll do it myself. Don’t worry. We just need to have a talk tomorrow. I’ll let you know how it goes, alright? I’ll be fine, promise.”