“Well, this is quite the turnout, eh, Myrick?”
The armored bodyguard nodded, and they stepped into the room towards the table where several men remained patient. Belarian Cross wore a silken white gown with a matching button up double-breasted coat. Gleaming gold pauldrons adorned each shoulder with similar chains that draped down and fastening to the polished buttons on her suit. Her blue-silver hair pulled into a tight bun, with wisps drifting around her pointed elven ears.
A group of Sills awaited her at the conference table, carrying conversations with each other. She rapped on the surface with an exquisite ivory cane. “Excuse me, gentlemen?” Their conversation winded down and their attention was on her. “Welcome to my home, Brightbane Keep. I trust my staff has taken excellent care of you?” Each of the men nodded and seemed content. She could still sense their restlessness as to the reason they were here.
She stared at the six faces in front of her, important men. Mayors of the largest cities in the Deepwater Elven Territory. She realized they were curious why their Governor would invite them here, but they shouldn’t have to wait much longer. These elves wanted little from life except to keep filling their pockets with money. Money equated to more power, and who wouldn’t want that?
Deep down in her heart, she despised them. They’ve all bowed to the will of the human kingdoms more than her. Of course, a person has to make back-room deals, bend your ethics a bit, but for her, it showed more about timing than subservience. Since her election, her resolve remained consistent as she kept her eye on her prize. Returning glory to her people. These lazy, soft-willed men were still Sills, so they remained a part of her legacy. “Thank you all for coming here. I’ve seen many of you at the Kingship, yet none have you have ever addressed the council. Why is that?”
A man near the rear of the table huffed and rolled his eyes behind his gold-rimmed spectacles. Brushing a hand through wispy brown hair to cover his growing bald spot. “Well, Belarian, hardly a word gets spoken through Kingship meetings without you blathering on.”
She glared at his impetuous tone, but maintained her smile. “Thank you for your candidness, Mayor Byrnside.”
He fidgeted in his chair. “Why have you kept us waiting?” He inhaled an extended drag of sweet tobacco from an ornate ivory pipe he cradled in his fingers. The man in the seat close to him brushed away the annoying remnant of smoke wafting in his face.
“So glad you asked.” Diplomacy, Bel. But damn, I would love to choke this guy and toss his body to the helwolves. She took her chair and rubbed her hands on the glossy surface of the table. “You have each made a lot of money because of your ambitions, and now I call on you to broaden your horizons. I have an opportunity for you to consider that will make you seriously rich.”
While each of them chuckled at her bold statement, one spoke up. A slim gray-haired man with a pink scar running down his cheek cleared his throat. “My dear, we are already extremely wealthy. What else can you offer us?”
A thin smile curled on her lips. “Mayor Dahn Pyoters of Salien. Tell me. How many mages do you have left in your fishing village? A few, maybe?”
He brought his hand up to his long golden hair, controlled by bronze chains reminiscent of a fisher’s net. Gold and silver designs of the ocean, ships, and anchors adorned his navy coat. “We have two. The other three lost their right to practice for using spells not approved by the Cabinet.”
She nodded and glanced at another man, a rotund fellow with bristly gray mutton chops framing his pudgy features. Thick hands rested on a bloated belly. “Mayor Meracroix Philson?” He focused his gaze on her, his mouth relaxed in a permanent scowl. “What about you? Have you lost any mages to the Cabinet’s iron rule?”
He acknowledged her but remained silent. The redness in his cheeks gave her the answer.
She threw her palms out to the group as if to embrace them. A shepherd to a flock of sheep. Sheep, yes. These men believe they are the captains of industry, but I’ll show them what true power is! “Gentlemen, for thousands of years, Sills controlled magic. We didn’t appreciate where it came from, but our scholars and maesters learned to wield it. Make it bend to our will and serve us.” She got up and walked, studying each man. “Then, the humans became more organized. Our people believed we were the stewards of all life in Sialdrad. We did the right thing, helped them and it only took them a half a century to turn it around and screw us. They brokered deals and made our people believe they only had an interest in living in unity. Instead, they played the long game and put edicts that would eventually place a golden noose across our thin necks!”
Byrnside slapped his hand on the surface and wagged a finger at her. “Get to it, Belarian! You have our attention, but what are you getting at?”
She stood and placed her palms on the table, feeling the cool glossy lacquer beneath her fingers. “Magical freedom.” She took delight in seeing their mouths open and jaws drop. Her ambrosia faded as a deep-throated chortle sounded from the rear, then another. Finally, they all laughed at her, giving red-faced looks to each other. Her forehead throbbed with the heat of anger peaking at their insolence.
Mayor Philson was the first to speak. “Again, with this? The Cabinet will never allow that! We all witnessed that at the last Kingship!”
She shook her head. Calmly, she spoke. “I realize that. I was there, remember? But I saw something the rest of you didn’t. Fear clouded Speaker Gantry’s eyes. They know that using Aire Nexbridge to control magic is controlling us. We only need to show them we aren’t a threat. I wanted to start a new facility for mages, but they said no. An academy that would bring not only honor back to the Sills, but money. The humans might have helped Sills understand how riverium works, but that shouldn’t give them jurisdiction over it.”
“Okay, so what happens if you establish a school without permission? King Grayvine still commands the army to come in and shut it down! If they have to do that, they will take more land. Is that what you want?” Byrnside grew more and more agitated.
“I agree, and no one wants that.” She motioned to Myrick, who brought an easel from the end of the room over to her and placed it in front of the table. Tacked to the board was an intricate world map of Sialdrad. On the wooden frame, she touched two crimson gems, and the picture lit up with thin azure lines criss-crossing over the surface. “This is a graph of riverium fluotha, ‘Rivers of Magic’. It was our people who named it that, but the humans seemed to have forgotten that. Anyway, you can see points where the paths intersect with each other.” She pointed to different areas. “Port Behlego to the south, Marchenne, Leatherspine in the dwarven territory, Arioford, and, of course, Brightbane. That is why I’ve set up my home here and not in Vilsomme. These positions are important, as the magic is more powerful here.”
“You aren’t a mage. What do you have to gain from that?”
“You’re right. I’m not a wizard, but I am an idealist and entrepreneur. I’ve been moving on a project to control the riverium lines. We’re nearing our goals, but I’ll not continue into considerable detail about that.
“Who is ‘we’?” Mayor Philson rested his elbows on the table.
“Again, I won’t discuss those details, but I have some dazzling minds working on this with me and we are close to unveiling it.”
“So, if your plan succeeds, then what? You see yourself as some dictator giving magic to whomever pays you?”
“No, I only want to give options to those who deserve it. You are all here because you should be first in line. We are building devices that can divert the lines to whatever point on the map I choose.”
Byrnside delivered a slow clap and rolled his eyes, while the other elves mumbled among themselves. “And there it is, gentlemen. ‘I choose.’ she says. Marvelous, Belarian. Thank you for the magical theory lesson. We’re quite impressed, but are even more so very busy.”
The Governor shook her finger at him. The men didn’t to notice a subtle curl of white light at the tip of her glove. “Please don’t interrupt me again.” Byrnside fell silent and lowered his head.
Philson came across slightly convinced, but she hadn’t won the battle yet. “Alright. I presume we’re here because you lack money?”
“Yes. I need investors, but what is most important, I require powerful allies to help me convince others.” She slammed her hands on the table. “Gentlemen! We are on the precipice of fresh magical opportunities! I’m not trying to make enemies or start a war. I only want freedom for the Sills to continue to practice magic the way Shaysha Ti’nor would have wanted it! Why wouldn’t you wish to be a part of that?”
After another lengthy pause, Mayor Byrnside, her biggest hurdle in this meeting, stood. He ran his hands over his brown silk suit and said, “Governor Cross, I think that you have wasted our time. I can’t, no, I won’t get behind you in this. My community, Roliem, doesn’t have the resources to spare for this… folly.”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Calm yourself, Bel. “Folly? So, the freedom of magic isn’t attractive to you? There will be money involved if that is all you care about. If people subscribe, we can move the lines to wherever they want them.” His resistance wore on her. “Listen, each of you. I understand this is hard to swallow. I assure you, with all your involvement, I promise your cities are the first to benefit from this amazing opportunity. For five years, you’ll have devices in your towns without the burden of paying for them. After that, you’ll be charged twenty percent of what everyone else will pay.”
“And if we don’t?” Mayor Byrnside looked at the rest of his group. “What then? You going to cut us out? Be just like the humans and not let us use riverium?”
She shook her head at him. “No. That is not what I’m after.” She stared at everyone. “If you choose not to be involved, then fine. You’ll fall under the same conditions as the rest, that’s all. The price will be the same for you as what their cost will be.”
The others in the room didn’t appear as hesitant as Byrnside, and she took advantage of this. “Take the weekend to think about it. I’m hosting a party tomorrow evening and would like you to remain my guests. Food, dancing, women. Whatever your heart desires. You’re here now, so please enjoy yourselves at my expense. After two days, if you choose not to accept a part in this healthy investment, no hard feelings.”
“I can’t speak for the rest of these fine men, but I must go back. Thank you for your hospitality and best of luck in your venture, Cross.” She realized Byrnside wouldn’t budge on his decision. Unfortunately, he had heard too much information, and the encroaching snowstorm might be a way for her to get rid of him forever.
She motioned to her trusted guard at the door. “Lieutenant Myrick, will you escort the gentleman to his coach? With the storm approaching, the journey to Roliem may become too perilous for him.” She turned to him. “Mayor, I’m afraid you are missing out on a wonderful opportunity.”
“It doesn’t appear I am missing anything, Belarian. Good day to you.”
“It’s going to be great for one of us. Goodbye Armahn.” Her hushed voice was soft and cold. She noticed beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, despite the cool mountain air that had filled the room.
He caught her tone and tilted his head with a perception of suspicion. “Yes, indeed.”
Myrick opened the door and escorted the nervous man into the darkened hallway.
Once they left the chamber, Mayor Philson stood. “Governor Cross. We’ve discussed it and, while skeptical, we agree it is worth hearing more about. Before we invest, we would like to see evidence your riverium control is possible. It is possible, yes?”
Her demeanor shifted from distressed to ecstatic. Excitement filled her voice, “Absolutely! It’s been successful on a tiny scale, but the amount of power needed for advanced manipulation is where your help will come in.” She moved to a door in the back of the room where a servant waited. “Gentlemen! Enjoy your drinks and talk among yourselves. I’ll prepare a demonstration for you!” She looked at her man. “Go get the mage ready in the lab!”
***
The musty stench of the lower levels of the Keep was less inviting that the rest of the home. The drip-drip-drip of water and a scurrying rat here or there made the men wish for the comfortable warmth of their homes. “Governor Cross, I hope you won’t seal us in a wall?” He caught himself on a slick iron banister as his foot slipped on the moistened steps.
“Hah!” She led the way down the stairs. “No, of course not! The laboratory is down here where my engineers have toiled away. Now gentlemen, understand that this represents our capability and proves the technology exists. I trust that will be enough to persuade you?”
“We’ll be the judge of that.”
“I’m sure you will.” She led them down a hall to a single heavy steel door and stopped. “Alright. Before we go in, I must caution you that a few of my engineers aren’t what you would expect. Keep a receptive mind please, and remember why you are here, yes?”
She inserted a black key deep into the ancient iron lock affixed to the door. The locking mechanism clanked as her wrist turned. With a huff, she pushed the entrance open. A colossal room cluttered with workshop tables opened up before them. Shelves containing a variety of odds and ends. Dirty straw littered the floor, and the only windows in the chamber were narrow slits near the vaulted ceiling. Giant magical lanterns hung from the rafters and bathed the area in a warm yellow light. The unfortunate stink of unwashed people lingered down here and made the wealthy men more uncomfortable.
Five or six subhuman figures moved around the lab, not paying attention to the recent arrivals in their workshop. Their tiny humanoid bodies hoisted crates and boxes away from the visitors. A guttural gibberish skittered from their mouths to each other beneath tattered hoods.
“Are those…gnomes?” Mayor Pyoters was astonished. He hadn’t seen these creatures since before, the Tinkers Uprising, which saw an end to their kind. Or so he thought.
Governor Cross puffed her chest out and beamed with pride. “They are! They’re the last surviving gnomes on the planet, and they work for me!”
“Do you know what the kingdoms would do to you if they found out you have them here?” Pyoters was stunned. “How can you even figure out what they’re saying?”
They heard a louder voice coming from a dark corner of the room, speaking gnomish. It didn’t have the same squeaky, high-pitched tone as the other gnomes. Cross smiled and looked at the man. “I don’t have to understand them. He does.” She pointed to the human walking from the shadows. Shaggy, filthy blond curls draped his head. Thin wisps of yellow whiskers sprouted from his face, framing enormous buck teeth.
He spoke again to a larger gnome, its visage concealed by a brown leather hood, who chattered back to him. A thick, dirty beard bobbed as the guttural voice gurgled out unintelligible words. Once finished, then they left the room. “Hello, Governor Cross. It’s a... um pleasure, mum.” He was void of sincerity and appeared as if he hadn’t slept in days.
“Gentlemen, may I introduce my director of research, Mage Marcrumm Dial. He’s been the brains behind this endeavor.” She walked over and took the mage’s hand in hers. “I trust we are ready to display this marvel to these fine men?”
Marcrumm still held Cross’ grip and gave his best attempt at a smile. “It is mum, we have set up the… Ambry but haven’t activated it.”
“Wonderful! That sounds like perfect timing, then!” She gestured to a row of chairs for each of the men to sit. “Now, allow me to reiterate that this is only a demonstration. The finished device will be far more aesthetically pleasing and quite massive. We’ve already begun placing inactive devices across the globe. As soon as we figure out various logistics and with your financial help, we’ll unveil their power.” Cross waved her hand at the disheveled mage. “Mage Dial, whenever you are ready?”
He nodded and spoke to the bearded gnome again, in his native tongue. The creature waddled near a table and pulled a white sheet from an object concealed. The device stood three feet tall, crafted from black iron and steel. Gears spun, surrounded by purple gems which pulsed with a soothing lavender brilliance. A slight hum emanated from within the curiosity and thin trails of violet light traveled towards a clear crystal orb placed on its zenith. Inside the sphere was a glimmering point of radiance that drifted in its glass prison.
“What is that?” Pyoters narrowed his eyes before wearing his gold-rimmed glasses to aid his sight.
Marcrumm cleared his throat. “This is called a So-” Governor Cross glared and shook her head. He began again. “It is a battery of sorts. We call it the Ambry. This is the device that’ll manipulate the lines.” He spoke in guttural gnomish and the creature approached a crude control panel crafted from brass and copper plates.
“How many paths will converge?”
“Depends on the size of the Ambry, but the larger devices will merge several lines.”
“Is it dangerous?” Pyoters motioned to the obelisk, admiring the craftsmanship.
“We don’t believe so and have experienced no accidents, but we are still in the testing phase.”
Each of the men appeared satisfied, although the unsure tone in his voice caused minor discomfort. Pyoters folded his palms in his lap. “Well, get on with it then.”
“Of course, sir.” Marcrumm walked to the Ambry, put on a curious pair of glasses, and placed his hands on the fist-sized violet stones on the control panel. He spoke to the gnome, who used his spanner to make slight adjustments to the mechanism.
Governor Cross approached the financiers with a wooden box. Inside were goggles where the lenses had been black with thin slits. “Put these on. You’ll need them to see the process better.”
The men turned the spectacles and examined them before placing them over their eyes.
Marcrumm whispered in an arcane tongue as he gripped the Ambry. The hum from the machine became louder and evened out. Bright trails of violet lightning crackled from a series of protrusions towards the tip of the device. A sterile smell of ozone reached their noses, and some placed their hands over their faces to avoid the stench. He stepped back. “Everyone pay attention. I’m going to cast a simple light spell. Once the apparatus reaches its potential, keep your glasses on.” A thin orb of white radiance appeared in his open palm and bounced up and down. The brilliant light illuminated the surrounding area with a soft, warm glow.
The iron and stone obelisk began with a hum that increased as the gems pulsed with a vibrancy. The rock floor below them trembled as the soles of their thick leather boots vibrated from the energy. Cross looked at Marcrumm and bobbed her head, which he returned. The purple fog held captive in the crystal at the top, spread out and connected to all the corners of its diamond shape. Slowly, the glow in his hand swelled brighter, with streams of light shining in every dark corner of the dank laboratory. It grew so intense they turned their heads away, even with the glasses on. Finally, the Ambry shut off, and the light went back to normal before he canceled the spell.
“Huzzah! It works!” Pyoters and the other men stood and clapped. “That was fascinating!” The chamber grew quieter as the humming became a whisper, and the gears on the machines fell silent. He removed his glasses and rushed to the mage and examined his palms. “Did it burn you? The light I mean?”
“No sir, it was the same light spell, only intensified by the Ambry’s power.”
“Amazing, my boy.” His hand went to his mouth as he stared at the device. “Simply amazing.”
Marcrumm stood up straight. He placed his palm on the crystal and felt the warmth of the stone. The energy in the glass on the top of the Ambry faded, then disappeared. “I’m sorry.” He kept his voice low so the Governor wouldn’t hear his lamentation.
“So, gentlemen. Are you impressed?” Cross walked to the men. Her stride was confident.
Pyoters took her hand in his and gave it a gentle kiss. “Governor Cross, honestly, I was reluctant to even make the trip here. I apologize for doubting you. While I can’t speak for the rest of these men, my treasurer and lawyers will contact you shortly regarding our investment in your project!”
The other elves made their commitment to her, and she smiled at the group. “You won’t be sorry. Yesterday, you were rich. You’ll be Kings when you implement this brave new opportunity to further magic!”
She instructed Myrick to show them to their quarters and delighted in hearing them speak to each other about the miracle they witnessed.
Marcrumm took an apprehensive step towards her. “Ma’am, when can I leave? Your… solution to the energy problem is a bandage. It isn’t sustainable.”
Cross glared and gritted her teeth at him. “I need more money, and then I’ll solve that obstacle. As for you, I’ll release you once this project is complete.” She clutched his shirt collar and leaned into his ear. “I should kill you after that stunt you pulled at the bar in town. Now, shut up, fix the energy issue, and make me proud, boy.”