52 – Deputy
Ward looked around the circle—they’d all stepped away from the campfire, and the travelers, Haley, and the marshal stood around Ward as he looked at the contract written in dense script on thick, beige paper. “Listen, you all might want to stand back a little more. I don’t know what kind of secrets this contract might reveal, but it can be a little unsettling.”
“If you’ve never heard a spell spoken, you may want to cover your ears,” Aldiss added, leading by example, stuffing his thick pinkies into his ears. Haley nodded, covering her ears and taking a step back. Ward waited a few seconds, watching as some of the others followed suit. When he felt like he’d given them a generous enough warning, he focused on the documents in his hands and then looked inward to the sharp, dangerous-looking words that hung in his mind’s eye. They were eager to be let loose, and they looked like they’d take a piece of him with them on their way out.
Ward clutched a healing tonic much like the one he’d drunk back in the inn after using the spell, but it didn’t make it any easier to find the nerve to say them. In his mind, he compared it to someone having to poke a knife through their hand, knowing they could be healed immediately after—it probably wouldn’t make that initial thrust of the blade any easier. Still, he gritted his teeth, cleared his throat, and said, “Shrovak gnyrath!”
The words burst from his lips like windblown splinters. They cracked through the air, stabbing into the contract and then howling away into the darkness, sending each and every witness reeling. Tarn fell to his knees, belatedly slapping his hands to his ears. His sister gripped his shoulder, clearly struggling to remain upright. Despite his injuries, the marshal held his ground, only taking a single step back while he watched the weird effects of the spell.
Ward immediately tasted blood and felt hot tears on his cheeks, so he didn’t waste time quaffing the tonic. As the warm, healing magic spread through him, he, too, watched the secrets of the contract unfold. Shadows, illuminated by sourceless, purple light, began to stream from the documents in his hand, swirling in the air and falling to the grass where they gathered and pooled, shifting and writhing.
When the cold, almost fluid-like stuff stopped flowing from the documents, Ward backed up several steps to watch what the luminescent, purple-hued shadowy stuff would reveal. It began to separate into two distinct shapes. As they elongated, solidifying into faintly glowing figures, details began to emerge, and soon Ward and everyone else could see that two spectral men were standing in the circle facing each other.
“That’s my cousin!” Haley cried, pointing to the one on the right.
“And that’s the leader of them mercenaries,” Aldiss grunted, jerking his thumb at the other.
As the phantom Haley had identified as Sonder Yates began to speak, she hissed, “Shh!” Everyone stared in rapt fascination as the two figures held a conversation.
“This is of great urgency!” Sonder’s specter said, waving a shadowy sheaf of papers. His voice followed the movement of his lips after a slight delay, like an echo from down in a well or a long stone corridor.
“Well,” Despite the strange echoing nature of the sound, it was the same, unmistakable voice Ward, Haley, and Aldiss had heard Rask Leverne use earlier that day, “you’ve certainly fucked the hog on this one. I thought you said she was dead.”
Sonder snarled and stuffed the contract against Rask’s chest. “She was supposed to be—somehow came out of the catacombs weeks after the others.”
“And she killed your assassin?” Rask snorted.
“Killed him, and now she’s here in the valley, raiding her parent’s country home. I want that damn sword! Take your men and hurry!”
“You have her on theft, then, yes? You want me to bring her back for a trial?”
Sonder’s specter had begun to turn away, but he whirled on Rask. “No, fool! I don’t want my contract with her father scrutinized! Ensure she has an accident or resists or whatever you do in such a case.”
“Ah! Tut-tut, Sonder, my boy. This one will cost you a bit more—”
“Take the extra fee out of her hide if you want. Teach that bitch what happens to those who meddle with what’s mine!”
As though the spell knew the secrets had been spilled, the specters began to soften at the edges, and the gentle evening breeze blew them away like wisps of smoke from the nearby campfire. “That horrible, evil, dirty little—” Haley’s face was red with fury, and her hands were clenched to the point that heat was starting to shimmer in the air around them. She cut herself off and stomped away from the group toward the road.
“Great Gods!” Desra slumped to the ground, shaking her head in wonder as she watched the faint wisps of purple, smoky shadows dissipate.
“I ain’t never seen anything like that,” Tarn groaned, still holding his hands over his ears. The others started babbling, but Ward tuned them out, eyes on the marshal, who stared at the compass-like truth artifact in his hand. When he saw Ward’s softly glowing eyes on him, he nodded.
“Everything rang true, both to my senses and this artifact. I’m going to accept this as evidence, Ward. See to your friend while I write my report. You can assure her that justice will find Sonder Yates.”
Ward nodded and walked away without another word. He found Haley sitting about halfway between the road and the graves they’d dug earlier. As he approached, he paused momentarily to look at the burial site; in the darkness, he could see the clouds of mana gathering above the low dirt mounds they’d packed atop the holes. “What?” Grace asked, noting his gaze.
“Mana.”
“You should try to gather some!”
“Yeah. Let me talk to Haley first. I should probably memorize my spells, too. Even the true strike spell is almost gone from my head. I might be able to get one more use out of it.” Grace didn’t reply, which Ward took to mean she agreed with him. He walked over to his young friend and plopped down on the grass beside her.
Before he could say anything, Haley looked at him and smiled. “I heard you talking to Grace.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t seem worried about the marshal anymore.”
“She was worried about him?”
“Worried he might have a way to see her. She’s afraid some folks will react badly to her.”
Haley snorted, shaking her head. “If I didn’t believe your story about her, I’d have to point out that you sound positively mad.”
Ward laughed. “I can see that. Hey, you all right? You seemed pretty pissed a minute ago.”
“I’m furious, but at least I have someone to be angry at. You know, I think I’d felt guilty about my parents before. I mean, back when we thought Nevkin had killed them in his attempts to get at us. Now I know it was my scheming cousin all along, and I can only wonder what else he might have tried if he hadn’t thought Fost and I were dead. What did the marshal say?”
“Aldiss? He believes the spell. He said he’ll take it as evidence and that your cousin will face justice.”
“Really?” Haley leaned closer and grabbed Ward’s coat lapel, squeezing and tugging it excitedly. “I thought sure he’d say he couldn’t trust the magic or something along those lines!”
“Nope. He used that little device of his.” Ward shrugged. “Guess a marshal gets to determine if the evidence is good or not. Things aren’t so straightforward back in my world. They’re a lot more complicated, and the legal system is spread through a lot more people, but I’m not sure that complicated is always better.” Ward frowned. “Eh, things seem good in this case because it’s working in our favor, but if Aldiss were corrupt? I think that’s a lot of power in one person’s hands.”
“He has to make his report to Primus. I’m sure people are overlooking his cases. Even if he arrests Sonder, he’ll have to take him before a magistrate.” Haley sighed and leaned back, resting her elbows in the grass. “I guess I could go home and challenge him to a duel. That would take out any guesswork.”
“You don’t want to do that.”
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“Oh? Don’t I?” Haley narrowed her eyes at him, and Ward felt like he was on shaky ground.
“Maybe ‘want’ is the wrong word. I suppose it would feel good to beat the life out of that bastard for what he did. After that, whenever you think of your parents, that’ll lead to the thoughts of Sonder and how he had them killed. That, of course, will lead to memories of you killing your cousin in vengeance. At first, that’ll feel good, but later, when you’re lying down at night trying to sleep, and that unquiet corner of your mind starts digging for things to mull over, you’re going to remember Sonder as a kid. You’ll remember how you played and celebrated holidays together, and then you’ll remember how you killed him. It’s not worth it—killing family. Let someone like Aldiss bring him justice.”
“Gods, Ward.” Haley’s voice was small and quiet. “Did you kill a family member?”
“Me? No, but in my old line of work, I spoke to a lot of people who did awful things. I spoke to some truly haunted souls.”
Haley fully reclined, folding her arms behind her head. “I don’t want to be a haunted soul.”
“Good, ‘cause I don’t want that for you, either.” Ward stood up with a grunt. “I’m going over to those graves for a minute. Gonna try to gather some mana, then I’ll memorize my spells again. After that, what do you say we sit around the fire for a while?”
“Okay. Pick me up when you're done. I’ll be right here.”
Ward made an affirmative sound and then meandered over to the graves. He spent a good twenty minutes trying to coax as much mana as possible out of the little clouds lingering over the dead mercenaries, but the influx wasn’t exactly massive—he figured a few dozen motes sank into his hand and coursed into his body. It was clear that he’d have to spend a lot of time—years—with slow, steady, gradual growth of his mana potential, or he’d need another treasure like the refinement elixir he’d consumed in the catacombs.
As much as the thought still gave him an involuntary shudder, he was starting to think he and Haley would, indeed, have to seek out more challenges; now that he’d tasted magic and seen what it could do, he wasn’t going to be content with the two spells he had—not to mention his need to keep walking “the Road,” in order to learn more about his missing anima.
A soft footfall alerted him to Grace’s presence before she spoke. “You should see what changed.”
He grunted in the affirmative. “I’ll look at it before I sleep.”
Ward tuned her out, trying to forget she was there, and then forced himself to focus on the forms of his two spells, working through the meditations, building the words in his mind again. It felt like the whole process took less time than before, and he figured it had a lot to do with him finding his center faster, listening to his heartbeat almost effortlessly, and snapping his arms and legs into the different meditative positions more perfectly.
All in all, he and Haley were only gone from the fire for an hour or so. Still, when they sat back down, leaning close to the warmth of the fire, they only found Aldiss and Gail sitting there. The others had all retired for the night, though Ward was pretty sure he heard soft grunts and sighs coming from the wagon where Desra and Rollo were “sleeping.” Haley grabbed another bottle of cider, took a long drink, then handed it to Ward. “I don’t want more; I’ll feel sick in the morning.” Ward nodded and took a drink. He was starting to love the stuff—tart, spicy, and strong enough to bring a flush to his cheeks.
“Ward?” Gail leaned toward him as he tucked the half-empty bottle between his knees.
“Yeah?”
“That spell was incredible. Aldiss and I have been talking about it while you were gone. Can you imagine how helpful that would be to a marshal or a magistrate? Have you ever thought of taking up the badge?”
“Bah! She beat me to it! I was going to say I’d write you an introductory letter to the Assembly. Should help you get a foot through the door at the Citadel.” Aldiss slurred a little in his enthusiasm, and when he leaned back against his pack, he burped and wiped his mouth with a chuckle.
Ward sighed and smiled ruefully, shaking his head. “I’ve done my fair share of hunting criminals, and, to be honest, I was looking forward to a break from all that. I’m curious, though—what’s the Citadel?”
“He’s talking about the Citadel of Measure,” Haley said. “It’s a mythical place on Primus where marshals and magistrates are trained.”
“Hah!” Aldiss slapped his knee, his voice wheezing as he took a deep breath, then confidently rebutted Haley. “It ain’t a myth, sweetie. I went there, didn’t I? And training is the small part, the big part is the testing. Anyway, Ward, I can respect your words. I’ll write an introduction for you anyway. I’ll do it in my book, and it’ll go into the master record. If you ever change your mind, tell the clerk at the Citadel to look for it.”
“Well, thanks, Marshal.” Ward smiled and took another swig of cider. After that, they chatted about the road ahead, the weather, and the business Gail and her companions were in—spices and herbal remedies.
“Well, I can attest to the quality of your mixtures!” Aldiss laughed after they’d gotten the rundown on the sorts of things Desra concocted for the business. “I was sure I was done for with that wound to my lung.”
Ward frowned at the comment, remembering how the healing potion he’d gotten in the catacombs had repaired some massive hemorrhaging and, doubtless, internal injuries—wounds he’d taken when he used Nevkin’s spell before his body could handle it. Apparently, that kind of healing wasn’t easy to come by on Cinder.
They sat quietly for a little while, everyone mulling over their thoughts, enjoying the fire, and then Gail stood up and slapped her hands on her thighs, brushing off some dust. She looked around the fire for a while, her gaze lingering on Haley, then Ward, then back again, before she said, “I’m off to bed.” She gave Ward a strange look, kind of a cocked eyebrow, and he had a good idea what she was getting at. He smiled at her and very subtly shook his head. She was attractive, and his body was certainly willing, but he wasn’t really in the mood, not after fighting, killing, and burying corpses all afternoon.
“Night, Gail,” he said. She sighed heavily but shrugged and offered a smile as she turned and made her way over to a tent near the wagon.
Haley stretched, yawning. “I’m off, too.”
Ward nodded. “I’ll join you shortly.” She hopped up and walked over to where they’d laid out their saddles and packs, and he could see her spreading out her bed roll.
“Listen, Ward,” Aldiss said softly, suddenly sounding much more sober. “I’d like to make you a proposition.”
“Oh?” The fire had burned down to embers, so Aldiss’s face was sort of shadowy, highlighted by the orange glow of the coals. The night was quiet, but in the distance, he could hear strange bird calls and, even more distant, a dog barking.
“Yeah. I’m on the mend and could surely travel with you some more come the morrow, but I’m feeling stretched mighty thin. I need to get down to Tarnish sooner than later; that Yates fellow needs to be dealt with. You’re already on your way to confront this warlock situation. How about I deputize you and offer you payment for handling him? If I understand you correctly, you mean to put a stop to him anyway, and, well, after what I saw today, I figure you might have what it takes.”
“Deputize? That’s a thing here?”
“Sure! I can give you an official warrant; you carry it out, and I’ll reward you. In this case, I’ll pay you in advance, ‘cause I’m not sure when we’ll meet again. I think I can trust you with that.”
“You sure you’re feeling okay? You’re not putting on a brave face so you can crawl into a ditch and die in peace, are you?” Ward chuckled to show he wasn’t being serious, but Aldiss didn’t exactly laugh with him.
“I’m not feeling great; I’ll tell you that much. Desra said I’d have some side effects from the vapors she gave me. I’ll be weak and a little light-headed for a while, maybe as much as a month.”
“Shit, really?”
Aldiss cleared his throat and spat on the coals. As the spittle sizzled, he spoke gravely, “Yeah. I figure I’ll ride to the crossing with these folks, stay a few days, and then make my way nice and leisurely to Tarnish. If you can handle this other outlaw, that really takes a load off.”
Ward shrugged. “All right. Fair enough. What kind of bounty you offering?”
“I could pay you in glories, write you a claim note that any bank would cash out. I have a better idea for you, though.” With a grunt, he shifted and pulled his pack around before him. “Came upon this on a fellow I had to put down a few years back. I won’t go into the details, but I’m fairly sure he couldn’t use it any more than I can. I’ve been holding onto it ‘cause I know it’s valuable. Figured I might try to trade it away the next time I was back on Primus. ‘Course that doesn’t happen too often, and, well, meeting you like this, asking you for help—it just feels kinda right to offer it up to you.” He continued rifling through the pack, dragging out the suspense. Ward wanted to ask him what “it” was, but he could tell the older man was trying to get him to do so, and he didn’t want to bite.
He forced himself to relax, leaning back and sipping the dregs of his cider. “Yeah?”
“Ah! Here it is!” The marshal pulled a small book out of his pack, bound in leather and packed with dense pages. He thumbed through the pages, fanning them out and stopping near the middle, where he pulled out a folded sheet of much darker, yellowed paper. He held the folded page between his thumb and forefinger. “Pretty sure this is a spell. The handwritten part makes that clear, but the words and symbols—I can’t puzzle ‘em out. They confound my eyes, making me dizzy and queasy if I stare at ‘em too long.”
“Oh?” Ward’s interest was more than piqued; he leaned forward, eagerly holding out his hand.
“Wait a moment, Ward. I’m going to put it in my book that I’ve handed off this warlock situation to you. You agree?”
Ward didn’t hesitate; he was going after Nevkin anyway. Even so, that wasn’t what made him agree—he could feel his heart racing at the prospect of reading that page Aldiss held in his hand. “Yeah, I agree.”
“Good!” Aldiss smiled, and it looked sinister in the orange light of the coals. Still, he flicked the folded page over the fire pit. Ward snatched it out of the air and immediately started unfolding it. He saw the harsh, angular script outlining forms, just like his other spells, and beneath them were sharp, dark lines that formed a phrase using words of power. Ward was sure of it because when he tried to read them, his mind ached like someone was squeezing it in their fist. As he stared, his heartbeat making his eyes jostle in their sockets, they began to come into focus. Despite the pain forming in the center of his brow, Ward whispered the words, getting a feel for them on his tongue, “Bryve, Spirvak, Dhravek, Prakhun, Dhravek, Vrothun.”
Blood dripped onto his hand, and he coughed, shaking his head to clear it. He spat a gob of bloody saliva into the coals and chuckled. “Damn, this is a harsh one! Just reading the words burst some vessels. Gonna take some getting used to.” Ward pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Oof. Never read so many of the words at once.”
Aldiss shook his head. “Better than I could do. Twisted my eyes every which way but never made any sense of those letters. Stuff’s beyond me, I suppose.”
“You idiot,” Grace hissed in Ward’s ear, leaning very close behind him, obviously trying to avoid the marshal’s direct gaze. “Read what it does before you give yourself an aneurism.”
Ward sighed and unfolded the page further, revealing a paragraph of tightly spaced cursive, clearly written by a different hand. He sniffed, wiping his bloody nose, and, by the light of the stars and the soft glow of the coals, read about the spell.