Chapter 11

Desari withdrew her spells and slipped her crystal away.

Cinderstein weaved up the side of the volcano. Its base had been left rough and treacherous. Creating a natural barrier. The only way into the city were through several maintained and watched gates. Now within them, roads spiralled up the volcano on a slight grade, trams of a kind ran up and down. Buildings lay along the roads, jutting up straight.

And there were baths, everywhere . The heat of the volcano used in full force for various bathing facilities.

Desari stepped out between crates she’d been using as cover and headed deeper into the city till there were less Infernists and flittering Embers moving around.

She diverted her path to a bathing house, tossing the ember at the desk several coins from a purse she’d liberated into the city. She swiped a towel and stepped into the humid facility, into the women’s changing rooms she found a stall and switched out her clothes to the armor and weapons of a lavawalker.

She drew out a mirror, checking her tattoo. With a flex of her will the lines shifted into a new form.

Her face tattoos marked her as one of the Lava Walkers—the Cinderborn’s warrior caste. Her altered clothing, a gift from Mya denoted her as someone from the supply branch with a high enough rank to be left alone.

Everything went into her storage and she left, passing her towel through a running shower to wet it before throwing it into a wash bag and exiting the facility.

Other Infernists disregarded her, while the Embers continued to show the same level of deference.

Does them no harm to be worried about everyone.

The Infernists numbers dropped away as she passed into one of the Lavawalker regions. Soldiers marched through the roads in their full gear, heading off to their shifts or coming back from them.

Doors opened, letting the noise of bars spill into the street.

She picked out her location with a careful eye, somewhere that was quiet enough for a drink and to hear others, but comfortable enough to loosen lips.

She checked the street was clear, before crossing. Several lavawalkers diverted around her as she opened the door to the bar.

A low rumble filled the place. It was carved from the volcano itself. Above the bar was an obsidian backsplash, chipped mirror smooth, distorting the reflections caught on it.

Woven carpets depicted various battles and there were several plaques on the wall remembering events and people.

She walked up to the bar.

“What can I get for yah?” The woman behind the beer asked.

Desari pointed at an amber liquid in a glass container.

The woman nodded and turned to get it. Desari settled in a stool, taking in the room. Lots of middle-aged officers. Those that dealt with the orders from on high and the complaints from below.

Some were with their husbands and wives who were also lavawalkers. She bent the wind with a simple weave. Watch rotations, complaining about troops, about knees.

The woman poured the liquid into a small glass and stoppered it.

“Got something to eat as well?” Desari asked.

“Chilled magma snappers with string roots and bread.”

“I’ll take that,” Desari said.

The woman nodded and put the drink on the bar. Desari leaned forward on her elbows and brought the drink up to her lips as if savoring the burn running down her throat as she found a conversation worth listening too.

“I swear that Ravst spends more time in his damn bath than he does in the training fields.” One officer said.

“Watch where you say that,” Another officer muttered.

“Who’s going to care in here? They all know how those upper lot are. At least some of them come down and train. Ravst just stays in his home, or at his parties. Sends his orders by letter.”

“Most of them do. Got more important things like sucking wine off one another’s feet.”

Desari found the trio sitting in a corner at a table with beers.

Two were horned, one bald, one not, the last had dark black hair.

The horned one with the hair glared at his companions. “Alright, well it’s the Magmaists role to look good, its ours to do the job. What orders are he sending down and more importantly. Is there anything that you can do to make sure they’re not the kind that will ruin you and your troops?”

“Well we’re apparently heading out down to help the Molten Fist to attack Ilus.” The one with dark hair said.

“Oh, that sounds like a fun outing.” The bald one shrugged. “At least you’re going to get some action. We’re sitting on defense again.”

“I made quiet inquiries and he wants to keep on sending his orders by letter. He isn’t coming to the field,” The dark haired man said.

“How much wiggle room?”

“Not much, I think he sees us like some damn chess move. We’ve got marching orders to the front, by the hour .”

All of them drank at that.

“You been keeping them right?” The horned and haired one asked.

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“Yeah, let him set his own noose,” the black haired one said.

“Well if its any consolation you’re not the only one. I hear that there are several of the magamists that are pushing off being in the field. I don’t think they like the idea of rough living.” The bald one said.

Desari’s food arrived as she listened to officers complain. About messengers, about the Molten Fist, their own supply issues moving from the mountain.

She finished off her food and used spells to remove the alcohol from her drinks as people came in and left.

She paid up as closing time came around, her mind full of information. Her footsteps were steady, the streets quieter in the early hours.

The bathhouses were still operating, she stepped down a passageway, shadows spreading over her and obscuring her from view as she moved to a wall against the bathhouses.

Silence spells covered the area, an alarm spell weaving its web across the area. A smile sprouted on her face, her powers were nearly back at their peak.

She weaved a summoning spell and reached through her bonds to Freddie.

He accepted the connection and the summoning.

She pressed her hands to the ground, a spell circle appeared on the ground and Freddie’s hands reached out to the sides as he pulled himself up.

“Different look,” Freddie cocked his head to the side.

“It was much easier to summon you this time,” Desari quirked an eyebrow.

“Less distance to cover,” He grinned.

She clamped down on further questions, knowing it would be nearly useless. Instead she took out the plate she’d made with Valter.

“Could you take this into the heart of the volcano? Put it in the middle of the flow of the magma. Some place where it wont’ get dislodged.”

He took the square plate, holding it by the corners and spun it between his hands.

“Easy,” his smile spread wide. He stored the plate away and turned to face the mountain.

He held up a finger that turned blue, he poked it through where the ground turned into volcanic wall. It melted through the ground as he drew a circle and then tapped the middle. It sunk and melted.

“I’ll banish myself once its done.” He dove into the molten circle, turning into a living flame. It didn’t ripple as he disappeared out of sight. Returning to stone.

Looks like he was working on his spellcasting at least . Desari smiled to herself, casting a spell that shifted the ground back to what it had looked like, instead of the liquid smoothness Freddie left behind.

She withdrew her spells and wandered to the roads that would take her higher up to the Magmaist’s districts.

Bells started to ring out as her hand grabbed the hilt of her sword.

How the hell did they find out this quickly?

A lizard mounted rider rode like the devil was chasing.

“Ilus is attacking Dragon Falls!”

People rushed out of the messengers way and then started running for their equipment.

***

***

High Captain Sarnai Hellfire looked over her flagship the Seared Lady . It was ovaloid shaped with a flat top that the crew moved upon and four decks below.

The side masts were half open, catching the heat of the molten sea below, keeping them aloft. The below and over sails a mixture of open and not to pull the vast ship along.

Around them, riding the heat vapors of the sea was her main flotilla, fourteen ships in total moving on the molten sea’s airs, heading for their next port.

One of seven she had built up. Everything had been calm along the trip.

No damn Emberclaw to piss around. Her thoughts brought a grimace to her face. She’d worked with the Molten Fist before, they followed her rules and were professional. Didn’t even try to renegotiate the price halfway through.

“Went and settled down,” She let out a sigh. Emberclaw were a spikey bunch, the least thing would set them of and make you an enemy for life. They loved to raid others, then go complaining back to their clan, who’d take whatever excuse they had and turn it into a campaign to wear down others.

They’d been a constant pain in her ass. They controlled a large region near Dragon Falls and they traded with the ports there, holding a commanding position that few could work against. She had to pay for the docks and repairs, they owned theirs.

Thankfully the fighting with Ilus took up all their attention and it had sent a good number of their ships down into the sea’s molten embrace, leaving her flotillas largely unmolested as they plied their trade.

“Captain,” Olva broke her from her thoughts with that one word layered with confusion.

“What can I help you with?” She turned to the signal master.

“Well, some captain walked up to one of our contacts, and she gave him a packet of information on the Emberclaw Clan. Told him that she’d like to talk to you.”

“The information?” Sarnai raised an eyebrow.

Olva handed over the sheets she was holding. “I checked it already, the information, its all on the Emberclaw clan. There’s actually more information there than we know about.”

Harnai read the sheets. Emberclaw Clan positioning .

The first page was a map with markers. The following pages having those markers and listing out ships, strengths, positions, as well as current orders.

She stacked the papers together. This kind of information was invaluable, it was also dangerous.

If they have enough information we could remove the Ember claws as a threat. they were engaged int fighting that magical city that had appeared. If she did it right she could sweep in and open up those costal locations.

Though they were working with Molten Fist and Cinderstein. In another situation they wouldn’t mind. Heck the Molten Fist might be eager to work with them. They had those two trader leaders after all. Cinderstein wanted to just lord over people. Stay out of their way, buy their stuff and sell it and they’d be happy.

Right now taking out one of their allies could be a big issue.

She rolled up the papers and hit them off of her thigh, looking at the flotilla. How many chances and half guesses had she made to get to this point?

“This Captain, they have any allegiances here?”

“No, she says she’s not of this world.”

“Not of this world. Could be lip service.” She tapped the rolled papers on her leg. “Could be with that magical city Ilus.”

She took in a breath and let it go with a smile. “Set up the meeting, I’ll transfer over to the Cold Flow and head off to meet with them.”

“I’ll send the messages.”